"I'll walk with you" is just an excuse to spend more time with someone before they go and that's romantic as fuck
why did miller... pin luke to the boards... and try to drag him down after... for no reason. the puck wasn't on luke??
You know how to love someone, but you don't know how to believe that someone loves you, and that is your tragedy.
“Because you are empty you hold space. Inescapable, you are always escaping me.”
— Rodger Kamenetz, from “The Poetry Pure,” Yonder (Lavender Ink, 2018)
i can never get over this book
adam silvera must be the most talented writer of the century to be able to trick almost all of his readers into thinking rufus and mateo would survive even though the title of the book is literally ‘they both die at the end’. still can’t believe i fell for that trickery
It’s May 14th where I live
this card will find who needs to hear this
"outcome is positive in thoughts. celebrate and reflect before becoming fool again"
the world is the last major arcana card in tarot deck. and the fool is first. break the cycle. stop the vicious circle. you already have it, accept.
god MAKING OUT?????
LIKE ARE YOU SERIOUS????
starts off slow with light pecks and gentle hands and maybe you get a bit closer. A small neck nibble, a kiss to the throat. A moan in your ear is all it takes to get going. the kisses get heated, and the SOUNDS?? a whimper, a small moan, the smack of their lips against yours? and its so warm and suddenly there’s too much space in between you two and you need to be closer. hands roaming and stroking until they hit a sweet spot and you need to feel their skin theres too much clothing on and just…
making out is so…wow
More controversially young girlfriend x sidney please I beg 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 my fave thing on tumblr rn
Sidney was a lot of things.
Disciplined. Respected. A goddamn adult man with a fully formed brain and a career built on structure.
And yet.
Yet, when it came to you?
He had nothing. No defenses, no strategy, no self-preservation instincts. Nothing except the overwhelming, all-consuming, slightly humiliating urge to make you happy.
And it wasn’t just that you were gorgeous—though, obviously, that was a problem in itself. You had this effortless, natural beauty that made his head spin, sure. But it went so much deeper than that.
It was the way you looked at him. With amusement, with curiosity, with something warm and open and unfiltered. Like he was just Sid—not Sidney Crosby, not the face of a franchise, not a legacy—just your Sid.
It was the way you laughed—loud, unrestrained, with your whole damn body. You were playful, always ready with a joke, always willing to poke at him, never afraid to give him shit when he needed it.
And it was the way you felt beside him, your energy all light and easy, like you could take anything serious and make it a little less heavy.
You made him feel young in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with age.
Not young in the reckless, careless way of twenty-something athletes who had too much money and not enough foresight. No, you made him feel young in a way that was alive. In a way that reminded him that life wasn’t just training schedules and game film and calculated, responsible decisions.
And that was the real reason he couldn’t say no to you.
Because the world saw you as his young, spoiled girlfriend, the girl with the wide eyes and the expensive bags, the one they thought had him wrapped around her finger with a pretty pout and a bat of her lashes.
And, okay—fine. You did have him wrapped around your finger.
But not just because you were pretty.
Because you made him happy.
And Sidney, for all his discipline, for all his control—Sidney liked being happy.
Which was why, despite knowing better, despite all logic and self-restraint, he found himself in the same situation over and over again.
Like right now.
"You are not pouting at me right now," he said, watching you with a raised brow.
You blinked up at him, so falsely innocent it was insulting. "Pouting?" you echoed. "Me?"
Sid gave you a look. "Yes. You. The pout. The eyes. The whole act you’re putting on."
You gasped dramatically. "Are you saying my feelings aren’t genuine?"
"I’m saying," he exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose, "that we both know exactly how this ends, and you are still going through the motions like I have even a fraction of a spine when it comes to you."
Your lips twitched, and he knew—knew—you were thriving off this.
"So," you said sweetly, stepping closer, tilting your head up at him, "*what I’m hearing is… you’re gonna get me the bag?"
Sid sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. "God, I’m a fool."
"You’re a very generous fool," you corrected, standing on your toes to press a quick, teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth. "My favorite kind."
Sid muttered something about being so whipped it was embarrassing as he pulled out his phone, already texting his assistant to make the purchase happen.
And then, before he even hit send—
"Wait!" you gasped, grabbing his wrist. "Oh my God!"
He stilled, immediately on alert, brow furrowing. "What? What happened?"
You placed a hand over your chest, eyes wide and serious. "I think I just realized—"
Sid’s heart actually skipped a beat. "What? What is it?"
You squeezed his wrist. "I might need the matching wallet, too."
Sid groaned, head tilting back as you cackled. "I hate you."
"Liar," you grinned, nuzzling into his chest. "You love me."
And—yeah. Yeah, he did. Like a damn fool.
And Sidney wasn’t proud of how easily he folded for you. But in his defense, you made it really, really hard to say no.
So, of course, despite all his grumbling, despite rolling his eyes and pretending to put up a fight, the second you started up with that sweet, pleading voice and those ridiculously big, unfairly pretty eyes—he caved. Like he always did.
Which was why, less than a day after your little performance, a sleek black shopping bag from Chanel was sitting on the kitchen counter, filled with the bag you wanted (and the matching wallet, because he was so far gone it was pathetic).
And the second you saw it?
"Oh my God," you gasped, dropping your phone onto the couch as you all but floated toward the counter, eyes shining like you just saw heaven itself. "Baby, no way—"
Sidney, already leaning against the counter with a lazy smirk, shrugged. "You really didn’t think I was gonna get it?"
You turned to him, clutching the bag to your chest dramatically. "I hoped," you sighed, "I dreamed—"
Sid chuckled, shaking his head. "Unreal."
But before he could get another word in, you were launching yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck, peppering his face with quick, giddy kisses.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you murmured between kisses, your happiness so damn pure that Sidney actually felt something in his chest clench.
This was the part he could never prepare for.
Yeah, he liked spoiling you. Liked making you happy. But the way you reacted? The way you never took it for granted, the way you always lit up, always made it feel like the best thing in the world? That was what got him.
You pulled back slightly, your nose brushing his, voice softer now. "I love you."
And just like that, he knew.
Knew he’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.
But, of course, he couldn’t let you off that easy.
"Wow," he hummed, lips twitching. "Now you love me?"
You narrowed your eyes. "Shut up."
Sid laughed, his grip tightening around your waist. "You weren’t saying that when you were trying to manipulate me yesterday—"
"Manipulate?" you repeated, scandalized.
"—with your little pout and those fake sad eyes—"
"FAKE?!"
"—and now that you’ve got your bag, it’s all ‘I love you’—"
"Sidney Crosby, you take that back this instant," you demanded, poking his chest.
"Mmm, I don’t know," he mused, enjoying this way too much now. "Maybe I should return it. Can you even appreciate something if you got it through emotional deception?"
Your jaw dropped.
"You are so dramatic," you muttered, pulling away, clutching your bag tighter like you thought he’d actually take it from you.
Sid grinned, tilting his head. "You gonna pout again?"
You glared. "You are the worst."
"And yet," he smirked, leaning down, voice dropping to a low murmur against your lips, "you love me."
You exhaled sharply, your resolve cracking. "Unfortunately."
Sid chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead before wrapping an arm around your shoulders, guiding you toward the couch. "C’mon, princess. Let’s see what other trouble you can get me into."
And just like that, the cycle would start all over again.