sad eyes

tyce thorsen. no 72 of the la kings.

[thcrsen-blog]

oflink‌:

suddenly, link’s darkened hazel hues were eyeing the muscular abdomen of the man running alongside him. quickly, he glanced away, directing his attention on running a little harder, a little faster. “yeah, yeah. i uh… i might come. may help my tan a little,” link chuckled, now looking down at the pale inner skin of his arms. the veins that you could see running underneath. “’m pretty pale, if you haven’t noticed.” when he was younger, link’s family would occasionally go on vacation to foreign countries all along the equator to blow off steam. but for the most part, he lived in new york city, which is not exactly the sunny capitol of the world. “’m from new york. if that gives me any excuse to be pale.”

     tyce isn’t looking too pale himself, especially for someone who plays a completely INDOOR sport --- but he writes that off it being not so long after the summer and his tan not having time to FADE. he’s always taken the sun pretty easily, tanning effortlessly and rarely burning. still, he cracks a smile. “ try living in ALASKA ---- ” he counters jokingly, “ in the winter --- then you have a reason. but yeah, all the more reason to come --- fresh air won’t HURT either. ” gaze drops down to the timer on his own treadmill, “ ---- how much longer were you thinking of going for? ”

[thcrsen-blog]

eclaircs‌:

her body still functioning on new york time, makes sleeping later then dawn an impossible task. jet lag truly is a cruel mistress. after twisting and turning under her rumbled sheets for a good hour, eclaire reluctantly pulled herself from bed. though the majority of the world was still asleep, a few coffee shops were known to be open with the rising sun. with almost no foot traffic to contend with a no one waiting in line, the trip to the nearest open shop was quicker then she hoped. she rounded the corner to her apartment complex, her focus spit between finding her key buried deep inside her purse and keeping her iced coffee from ruining her top, when she heard his voice. glancing up she found the source easily. “depends on what you need assistance with?” her caramel coloured eyes drift down his tall frame in a quick perusal. meeting his gaze once more she tilted her head slightly, a smile on her lips. “sadly i don’t have a spare shirt on me.”

     “ spare shir--- no, nah. just forgot my card, ” tyce offers in way of explanation, hands going to the pockets of basketball shorts to keep them from fidgeting. he knows what he must look like, barefoot and shirtless and looking slightly crazed or perhaps particularly dejected given his track record with his facial features. “ --- got locked out, considered jumping the fence but i don’t think that would go over too well with our landlord. i do live here --- promise. ”

[celebritiesintheworld]

Neels Visser by Damon Baker.

[favesmen]

c heaintpunk

[thcrsen-blog]

oflink‌:

“yeah, yeah. just st-stretchin’ the legs,” link coughed, deciding to lower his treadmill slightly so that he would have the opportunity to actually chat with tyce. the curly-haired boy often found himself feeling a little intimidated by the hockey player jogging alongside himself. after all, tyce was a professional hockey player. link had every right to feel intimidated by the huge man with excellent skating skills and a handsome face to match. at the mention of running on the beach, link’s thoughts were derailed. “running on the BEACH? isn’t that like, a million times harder? ‘cause of the sand and all that?”

     he tugs at the bottom hem of his shirt, to wipe away sweat beading a bit annoyingly on the bridge of his nose, hardly breaking stride in the process. it’s not like he’s really trying to show off exactly --- there’s not much merit in running someone outside the pro-sports realm into the ground --- but maybe he’s preening a little. ( it’s nice to be looked at positively for once, outside somewhat mediocre point totals ). “ yeah well, ” he tugs his shirt back down, gives another shrug as he glances at the other, “ it’s not so bad, especially if you run by the water; sand’s firmer there --- you should come sometime. ” 

[thcrsen-blog]

scwyvr‌:

      unlike tyce, early mornings weren’t exactly sawyer’s cup of tea. even though the early bird was supposed to catch the worm, it felt like the only thing she was going to be catching was a nap later. she had a job interview this morning though since la wasn’t cheap and she needed to make sure she had some money for next’s month rent. sure, her dad would help her out if she really was in a desperate time, but sawyer didn’t want to rely on him. she was just about to head back to the comfort of her apartment when she heard a plea for help. her eyebrows raised in interest as she approached, the blonde boy in front of her slowly coming back into memory. “you’re uh - tyce, right?” sawyer asked, holding her keys in one hand. she was almost certain he was her brother’s former teammate. the one who temporarily took refuge in her mom’s house after she moved out to la. she teasingly swung her keys around her index finger, pretending to contemplate whether to let him in. “for all i know, you could be an axe murderer,” sawyer hummed, slowly breaking out into a grin. eventually, she opened the gate to allow tyce entry. “you really fit the whole bleached blonde sun-soaked surfer boy vibes. la has never looked so good.” sawyer glanced at him before pressing the button for the elevator. “how long have you been here? in la, i mean,” sawyer corrected.

     head jerks in a nod, " yeah --- THANKS, " he says, stepping through the unlocked gate. the girl who steps to his aid looks FAMILIAR though it takes tyce a bit longer than it probably should to place her. it comes a few seconds later, a gentle lilt of the voice that reminds him of hunter even if the tone itself is wholly different. it's not like he really spent all that much time examining the photos in the fields' household ( and people are always rather DIFFERENT in person than in the photograph or computer screen ). " don't really have anywhere to hide an AX --- sorry to disappoint. besides i wouldn't want to contend with HUNTER too. " gaze slides down to her, blue hues rolling at her jibe at his appearance, on hand trailing through the longish locks of golden hair. he hadn't known that hunter's little sister lived in la --of if he had once known, he'd promptly forgotten; important things, y'know? he shuffles his feet in the grass a little to get rid of the worst of the sand before following her inside, shoulders rising in a nonchalant shrug, " just a month ---month and a half. haven't really been counting it's been going by pretty fast, to be honest. "

[thcrsen-blog]

hey guys!!! LIKE this for a starter ( and plots if we have not already ). tyce’s intro is over HERE and i also have an open starter that needs love over HERE !!

[thcrsen-blog]

     DINER food is probably not the best choice as far as dietary regimes go, but tyce has always been fond of a good diner and a hearty breakfast post-morning run and today is no exception. he slips into his usual booth near the back and types away furiously at his phone in a poor attempt to keep up with the team group chat. tired blue eyes raise at the approach of the other, a weary smile just barely rounding lips, “ hey --- any new SPECIALS? ”

@joeyswrld

[thcrsen-blog]

oflink‌:

closed starter for @thcrsen

“t-thanks for coming with me, tyce,” link huffed, his feet making loud thumps against the treadmill as he jogged alongside the blond. drake blared loudly through the airpods that were lodged inside his ears. “moving to los angeles k-kind of threw me off m-my workout routine,” he admitted, slowing the speed of the equipment slightly so he could talk to his friend. “having someone to go with you kind of… holds you accountable, i think,” link explained, eyeing the hockey player that wasn’t struggling anywhere near as much as he was. 

      “ yeah --- ‘course. doesn’t hurt to stretch the legs. ” his own treadmill is on a more leisurely speed, just enough to break a sweat and heart racing but not high enough for really lose his breath. he bites back an unwarranted laugh at the mention of accountability ( too many times that’s been thrown around the kings dressing room ), shoulders managing a shrug even as he keeps running. “ besides, i’m not too familiar with the gyms around here; always good information to know. been running the BEACH more than anything ---- it’s not really a luxury i’ve hand anywhere else i’ve lived. ”

[ibbyfashion]

Neels Visser by Damon Baker

[thcrsen-blog]

      tyce has always been FOND of early morning ; something about new beginnings and the stillness of a world just waking up. he hasn’t lived on the coast since childhood and certainly not anywhere with beachfront. it’s freeing almost, these morning runs on off days with bare feet in the sand and the tide. the only bearable time, too. he still hates the heat --- that part of the desert he was born in has long rubbed off after the cold winters of alaska and icy sidewalks of saskatchewan. his jog slows to a walk as he approaches the apartments once again, one hand plucking off sunglasses to wipe sweat and saltwater from the bridge of his nose as he approaches the gate to the backyard. only then does he realize that his key card isn’t anywhere on his person. “ crap, ” one hand idly rattles at the locked gate, half considering vaulting the fucking thing, before raising in a half-rueful wave as he spots someone, “ sorry --- mind lending an assist here? ”

OPEN !!

[thcrsen-blog]

superscnic‌:

‘   i bet.   just my luck.   ’   he crinkles his nose in a sort of frustrated fashion.   ‘   i’m HOPING they won’t be too long back but   …   who knows really.   i might have to just go for a walk for like   …   and hour or so.   ’   he chuckles at his own misfortune   ,   ‘   sitting around is giving me cramp.   ’

     fingers run absentmindedly through his hair as he takes in clem’s apparent dejected frame. he’s a TIRED but he’s not so heartless as too leave someone cramping up on the stairwell for an additional unknown amount of time. “ tell you what --- ” he says, half-turning to step down another step or too, chin tipping upwards as height difference becomes less evident between them, “ if you’re still here when i get back, you can chill on my couch. ”

[thcrsen-blog]

ohophcila‌:

ophelia huffed softly, clearly frustrated at the fact that she could not reach the mac and cheese box that was stuck far back on the shelf. when the male approached her she jumped in surprise slightly. “i uh… yeah… i just can’t seem to reach it…” she tilted her head in order to look at him better. “but i’m guessing you can.” she couldn’t help but giggle a little.

      “ yeah --- guess so, ” tyce says in agreement, easily grabbing the box in question and handing it over to her, “ --- been grabbing things off shelves since i was born. ” it’s ALMOST true, honestly ; he passed his elder brother in height at age 12 ( much to the OTHER’S chagrin ) and since then has only recently halted his every upward trajectory --- a RELIEF, if anyone asked him. “ anything else? ”

[mizworldofrandom]

[thcrsen-blog]

if we haven’t started plotting yet and would like to plot with my sad hockey boi please like this!! ( tyce’s intro is here )

[thcrsen-blog]

superscnic‌:

he takes a proper look at the other   ,   taken aback for a moment at the sight of the guy in just briefs and a hoodie.   it’s a few moments before he notices that he’s staring and hasn’t said anything so he forces his gaze back up to meet his with a sheepish smile   ,   hoping he HASN’T been caught.   ‘   i was just waiting.   i   ,   uh   ,   left my key somewhere.   probably in a cab or something.   i don’t remember.   ’   he furrows his brows in frustration at himself.   it’s typical   ,   really.   luck is rarely on his side.   he nods towards tyce’s attire   ,   ‘   were you planning on going outside like that   ?   because you’ve forgotten an essential item of clothing.   ’   he tries to joke playfully.

     it’s silent for a beat too long, sending long fingers picking at the navy fabric of his hoodie as tyce chooses to ignore it, shoulders rising in a shrug instead when the other finally breaks it. “ well i hope you find it --- heard lost keys are a bitch to replace ‘round here. ” something about having the replace the entire LOCK too or something. who knows. the stairwell is dirty and honestly he probably should have gone through the trouble of finding where he last kicked off his slides instead of running out barefoot. mouth flickers into a half-smile, “ nah --- just getting mail and some package from downstairs...” head tilts back up toward the direction he came, “ your roommate close or are you destined for another few hours on the stairwell? ”

[thcrsen-blog]

superscnic‌:

unruly hair nearly covers his eyes   ,   his head hanging low as he picks at the skin of his nail in a sort of intense daze.   trust HIM to lose his key   ,   one month into living in the apartments.   he’s been sat on the staircase for some time now   ,   waiting for his roommate to come home   —   however long that will take.   it’s then that he hears the sound of footsteps and he prays that they don’t head this way   —   but clem as faithfully as ever attracts bad luck   ,   and is soon sat face to    …   legs with another person.   ‘   i-i lost my key  ,   i’m not like   ,   illegally squatting here.   ’   he knows he probably looks like it   ,   seeing as he’s dressed in a threadbare hoodie and has dark bags under his faraway eyes.   ‘   i’ll   ,   uh   ,   move.   sorry.   ’   he clambers to his feet quickly   ,   a sheepish   (   awkward   )   smile on his lips.

      living on the second floor means he rarely feels the need to take the elevator and today is hardly any different. the plan is to get his delivery, retreat back upstairs and not see a soul in the entire process --- it’s certainly late enough, though tyce really OUGHT to know by now that la hours are twenty-four / seven as are the moreau’s. perhaps he’s just a bit TIRED after a long day, tired enough that he gives a small double take as he nearly trips over someone on the stairwell ( gaze directed elsewhere that wasn’t DOWN ). he supposes he’s lucky he pulled a hoodie on before he stepped outside to get his mail so he’s only spotted out in his briefs and a hoodie in a less than ideal outfit that still covers enough skin to be considered MODEST. brow quirks in a small motion, a flicker of something like amusement sparking in normally morose blue eyes. “ i didn’t think anyone took the STAIRS anymore --- ”