#beaulieber

Hi I'm Emma! Requests are open! Masterlist Asks are not limited to requests! (formally: nhlwriting)

[tyson-berry-blog]

Oh my gosh part two of harden my heart was outstanding!!

Thank you so so much for saying that! Coming back to this account nearly a year later was a bit more daunting than I thought it would be. A part three isn’t entirely out of the question but I suppose it depends on what else people want to see. 

I hope you’re having a lovely day anon!

[tyson-berry-blog]

Auston Matthews #4.2 - “Harden My Heart”

Anon 1 asked: I loved the Auston Matthews “Harden My Heart” imagine. Part 2 if you’re not busy? Thank you!

Anon 2 asked: Oh my gosh I just read harden my heart Auston Matthews and I know you wrote it awhile ago but oh my gosh please can you make a part two of it please! Like if you did maybe the relationship with the girl and Aus turns out terrible like her cheating on Auston and him like finding out and is upset and all and like she spots her with him because she lied she needed to be like somewhere and maybe y/n is on a date with a guy when that happens? And he calls all mad and sad.

Part 1

Somehow it has been just over a year since my last post on this account and I don’t know how that is possible. I’m so so sorry for that but I wanted to post something and hopefully end my writer’s block. This was a quick write as I just wanted to get this out to you guys. It’s been so long I don’t know if I remember how to properly link anything anymore. Well, anyway, here you go. I love all of you and hope this 2019 is everything you hoped it would be. 

---------------------

It’s been two months since you moved out of Auston’s place and you’ve seen him exactly five times. You still text sure, and occasionally he’ll call you but if not for all the Maple Leaf posters around the area, you’d have forgotten what he looked like. Hell, you’ve seen Mitch more than you’ve seen Auston.

It hurts yeah, but at this point you’re working hard to fully move on from your feelings about him. It doesn’t seem to be working.

Mitch, bless his soul, is the only one who knew exactly how you felt about Auston, having picked up on it within two meetings. How Auston didn’t realize is beyond your comprehension.

This is why you find yourself in a stuffy bar on a Thursday night when you’d rather be home burrowed in your bed with a pint of ice cream and Netflix. Mitch mentioned he had a friend, a non-hockey playing friend, that he thought would be perfect for you. Reluctantly you agreed and your roommates shoved you into a pair of jeans they insisted made your ass look amazing and made you do something with your hair for once. You had to admit, it was nice getting dressed up.

And Tyler was nice. He was a perfect gentleman, holding the door for you and pulling out your chair and asking about your interests. He’s nice but it really isn’t working for you and you’re frustrated at yourself for it not working.

Tyler seemed to get that you aren’t feeling it because when you part ways at the end, he just gives you a hug and wishes you the best. Instead of getting into your car and going home, you go back inside and order yourself a beer. You hate beer but don’t feel like getting shit-faced off of hard liquor so, beer it is.

You’re halfway into your second beer when your phone starts ringing. Auston’s face flashes on the screen and for a second you think you’re drunker than you thought because no way is he calling. He hasn’t called in weeks. The call cuts before you can get to it but immediately starts ringing again so you step outside to where it’s quieter and answer.

“Auston?”

“Hey, um, are you busy?” his voice is quiet.

“I was just on a date but –“

He cuts you off, “oh shit, I’m sorry. I can go.”

“But, it ended thirty minutes ago and I’m at the bar by myself.”

“What bar?”

You rattle off the name and he is silent for a second.

“Can I meet you?” he asks.

“Uh, sure.”

He promises he’ll be there in ten and you hang up. You return to your seat and this time do order a shot for yourself. Anything to help prepare you for seeing Auston in person for the first time in three weeks.

Ten minutes later just like he promised, Auston is pushing into the bar and makes eye contact with you from the door. His eyes never leave yours, not until he drops heavily into the seat you saved for him. He doesn’t say anything besides ordering himself a Coke. He doesn’t even take a sip, just swirls the straw through the dark liquid.

“Auston, what’s going on?” you finally ask.

“She was cheating on me?”

“What?”

He sighs, “for almost our whole relationship.”

“Oh, Auston,” you go to put your hand on his arm just pull it away at the last second.

“I found out yesterday.”

“How?”

“I was out with some of the guys,” he leans back in his seat. “She said she was going to be out of town to visit a friend and instead she’s making out with some guy in a club.” You’re speechless.

“And,” he continues. “She didn’t even have the decency to be sorry about it. I think she was sorrier about getting caught.”

“I’m really sorry Auston.”

“After it happened I didn’t want to talk to anyone but you but then when I went to call you I saw our last call was weeks ago. And I thought ‘that can’t be right,’ but it was.”

“It has been a while.”

“I’ve been such a shitty friend to you. We haven’t talked in so long and I finally call you only when I need something.”

“This isn’t about needing something,” this time you do put your hand on his arm. “I’ll always be here for you.”

“You know, she didn’t like you. I didn’t realize at first, but I think she was threatened by you.”

“Threatened by me?”

He lets out a humorless laugh, “I think she thought she would never measure up to you and then suddenly you weren’t in my life anymore. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

“Well you’re here now.”

“Only took me getting cheated on for me to realize how shitty I was to you.”

“Auston, c’mon let’s get you home. We can talk about this later.”

“I took an Uber here.”

You reach into your purse and pull out your keys, “good thing I drove. You’re driving me home though, I’m not quite sober enough.” That wasn’t entirely true. You weren’t even buzzed at this point but the thought of being in a car with Auston again had you more nervous than you cared to admit.

You walk Auston up to what used to also be your apartment and make sure he gets into his room safe. You’re definitely sober now but as you’re getting ready to leave he calls out to you.

“Can you stay the night?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“I turned your room into a guest room so it’s ready for sleeping.”

“Auston…” you trail off.

“Please. Please I need to know that I’m not alone.”

He sounds absolutely crushed so you find yourself nodding before you can stop yourself. You agree to get breakfast and talk more in the morning and once Auston closes the door to his room you find yourself standing outside of it.

“You’re not alone Auston,” you say quietly, to yourself. “I’ll always be here for you even if it ruins me.”

You continue on to what used to be your room, wondering how the hell this became your life.

[tyson-berry-blog]

Do you perhaps take requests from other leagues?:)

Hi! I’m so sorry to say I have no idea how long this has been in my inbox. If by other leagues you mean other sports, then sure! I don’t see why not!

[tyson-berry-blog]

Tyson Barrie - Ice Cream

Hey guys. This is quite possibly my attempt at making a writing return. I suppose it depends on if you like this or not. I mentioned trying a different style of writing Imagines so please let me know if you like this version better. Hope everyone is doing well!

There is something about grocery shopping late at night that makes it feel like time is nothing but an illusion. The oddities of running errands that late is probably what makes me feel weirdly unbalanced. I mean, what normal human leaves the comfort of their home at 11 o’clock on a week night to spend time under the harsh florescent lights of the nearest grocery store, instead of I don’t know, doing literally anything else? The type of person whose roommate just broke up with their longtime partner, that’s who.

The basket I have tucked into the crook of my elbow is beginning to dig in painfully under the weight of the various desserts I promised to bring back. I yawn and look at the freezer in front of me, stocked to the brim of different types of ice cream. Casey is particular though, when it comes to her frozen treats. She weirdly requests vanilla ice cream and that it be Ben and Jerry’s. To me, all vanilla tastes the same because it’s the plainest flavor but if Ben and Jerry’s is what she wants, it’s what she’ll get.

I’m scanning the aisle for the Ben and Jerry’s section and make awkward eye contact with what has to be the only other person in the whole place.

He’s cute, I think. And then I see him reach for the last pint of Vanilla Ben and Jerry’s and suddenly he becomes my mortal enemy.

“Hey, buddy, I know this sounds weird but I’m going to need that ice cream.” I call out.

The guy looks around for a second, as if I could be talking to anyone else.

“Yeah, you, brown hair.”

I march over and his lip twitches as if trying to restrain a smile when he glances down at my basket.  

“Well now I see why I have to settle for this,” he lifts up the pint. “You bought out the rest of the store.”

“Oh, ha ha. Look, my friend is going through a terrible breakup and she is awful with decisions so I promised to bring home a variety.”

“I can’t tell if you’re kidding.”

“Why would I make it up?” I ask.

“To scam me out of my ice cream, which I’ll have you know, I worked very hard for.”

“Well good for you. Do you want a gold star or something?”

He laughs, “you’re being very snippy towards someone who seems to be holding your life in their hands.” He looks down at the pint. “And vanilla? Seriously?”

“I’m sorry my roommate has the most boring choice in ice cream ever, but if it’s vanilla she wants, it’s vanilla she gets.”

“There are other kinds of vanilla.”

“Yes,” I point towards the other cases. “There are other kinds. Other kinds for you to pick from.”

“But I got here first.”

“Please…” I trail off. I don’t know this guy’s name.

“Tyson,” he fills in for me.

“Please, Tyson. If you pick another kind I will buy it for you.”

“Why ice cream?”

“Because, ice cream is the quintessential post breakup food. You eat it straight from the carton, cry and bitch about how love sucks. That’s how it works.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize there was a system.”

Just as I’m about to say, ‘fuck it’ and leave, Tyson holds the pint out to me. A bit shocked that my pestering worked, I take it from him and put it on top of the sizeable pile of sweets. He picks another pint and holds it out to me as well.

“It’s not vanilla but I guess it’ll have to do,” he sighs in fake defeat.

I take it with a huff and he trails after me towards the check out. The cashier doesn’t even bat an eye at the amount I’m buying. She is probably ready for us to leave so they can start closing.

I hand Tyson his ice cream and he heads towards a running car with a blonde guy behind the wheel.

“Good luck with all those cavities,” he calls over his shoulder.

I don’t have a good response and instead just head towards my car, hurrying home before the ice cream melts.

I figured it was highly unlikely I’d ever see Tyson again. I mean, what’re the odds of people being in a very specific location at the same very specific time? Well, I’m proved wrong three days later when I’m sent to pick up ice for a house party after the host freaked about running out.

I’m reaching into the freezers with the bags of ice when I sense someone standing near me. I turn warily, surprised to see a vaguely familiar face.

“Ha no,” I lift up the bag. “Just making an ice run.”

He just hums and clutches the ice cream closer to his chest, as if I was lying about not taking it. 

These bizarre grocery store run-ins continue for far longer than I would have thought. But finally, after three more run ins, they seem to stop. I weirdly miss my brief talks with Tyson and that isn’t because I thought he was cute. After we stopped trying to buy the same thing, he was no longer a threat.

I’m out to lunch with Casey when I finally see him again. She’s ducked off to the bathroom, so I’m fiddling with my phone, taking a Buzzfeed quiz. Someone walks up to the table.

“Wow Casey, that was fast.” I look up. It’s not Casey.

Tyson smiles down at me, “I thought it was you, but because you’re not under the shitty florescent lighting, I wasn’t sure.”

“Tyson, hey. Are you here for lunch too?”

“Just leaving actually,” he jabs a thumb over his shoulder towards a group of mostly blonde and unfairly attractive guys. They don’t even pretend to not be looking at us.

“Right.”

“I actually came over to ask for your number, I was going to the next time I saw you but that didn’t seem to happen.”

“Well, you’re seeing me now.”

I put my number into his phone and send myself a text so I can save it.

“And hopefully, I’ll be seeing you later,” he shoots me a wink.

I groan, “that was awful dude. Get out of here before I regret it.”

Tyson and the hoard of blondes file out just as Casey slides back into the booth.

“Did I miss something?” she asks. “You look like you’re blushing.”

I shake my head and my phone buzzes in my pocket. While Casey’s distracted with the menu I check it.

Are you free this weekend?

Maybe. I respond. What do you have in mind?

Ice cream? This time I’ll buy.

Deal. I send back.

[tyson-berry-blog]

Hi lovelies, through my scouting of the internet, I’ve come across two different styles of imagines. Ones where the writer uses “you” in reference to the readers, and the second kind when they use “I” as if it’s a personal telling of an event. 

Now normally I write in the form of “you” but was thinking of trying my hand at the other form. I don’t know how much you all would care but I thought I’d put this out here to gauge reactions. 

Thanks guys, hopefully I’ll finally have another thing posted soon!

-Em 

[swamphockey]

Roberto Luongo is a popular guy in Canada

[bruins-idiot]

me before opening tylers instastories: please dont be golf please be a selfie please dont be golf please be a selfie please dont be golf please be a selfie please dont be golf please be a selfie

tylers story: ‘look ! grass ! tiger woods ! woo hoo !’

me:

[atonm34-deactivated20220315]

[jordimac33]

It’s that time of year again.

[borealing]

I absolutely hate watching shrek 2 because human shrek looks like evgeni malkin

[arbores--loqui--latine]

turn and face the strange ch-ch-changes…

[omgericzimmermann]

[fpsantangelo]

me, thinking about having to watch another fucking pens/caps series:

[larkin]

zach werenski: unapologetic michigan boy

[captain-furious]

Auston Matthews, precious.

[bitch-marner-deactivated2018032]

someone find me that gif of jamie benn where he looks like the dramatic chipmunk

[bitch-marner-deactivated2018032]

Found it

Originally posted by kuerbisgelb

[bigfriendlybruins]

someone photoshop the stars logo onto theo’s sweatshirt

[punksergeant]

as you wish

[bitch-marner-deactivated2018032]

MULTIPLE PEOPLE HAVE DONE IT NOW AHHH

[cheerbaitromanjosi59]

it got better

[lightynight]

they deleted this so fast

[christa613]

I found this video on YouTube from a few years ago, entitled “Ask the Avs: Cuddling or Long walks on the beach?”

Apparently back then (as now) there were two types of D-men on the Avs. LOL

[samgirard]

the results are in and they’re peer reviewed