5 Second Challenge

The NHL Number Quiz

Im so serious when I say Charlie bushnell deserves an Oscar or smth for that scene bc literally gutwreching

oh my god what on earth is this (x)

my top five favourite and three least favourite drivers, except i don't use their names.

Top five:

Bottom three (don't hate me):

last one might get me killed, but it had to be said.

ofc this child ate playdoh

Oh wow lando guanyu oscar under the same umbrella😍

Oscar Piastri doing a very serious and important This or That

based on Sue’s announcement, it wouldn’t surprise me if Megan retired after the World Cup next year

bringing this back because I was 100% correct

um

↳ SABRES RATE THEIR ALL-STAR BREAK LOOKS | 2.10.23

God this cup final is going to kill me. Eich's whole narrative. And Chucky's whole season. I literally just want them to all be thriving. At the end of it all, one of my boys will be devastated, and one will be euphoric.

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Mitch Marner x Reader

Requested ✨

Word Count: 3.5k

Warning(s): I don’t think it’s a warning, but the reader has ADHD and Autism. Reader is overwhelmed, and nonverbal as a result.

I left this one vague in certain areas for all types to interpret and see through their own eyes! If that makes sense. I tried to make it personal to the request, but also loose enough for others with these two disorders to see themselves in as well!

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ADHD and Autism is like cold and hot. Sweet and sour. Excited and bored. Energetic and tired.

Having those two disorders, is something that can cause great deals of mental exhaustion.

I never knew for sure what it was, which disorder was taking the lead or which was bothering me on a particular day. I hated it. I especially hated it, on the days I had to go into work, and my brain was practically arguing with itself. One half wanted to take a new road and see new sights, but the other part of me wanted to keep things the same knowing it was efficient. My mind argued over playing music or basking in silence. Changing my sheets or keeping the same ones, trying new clothes and remaining secure in knowing the old ones worked.

I faced many challenges with those two disorders. Some worse than others. Like moving away from home and into my first apartment. Meeting people at work for the first time, and having to meet new ones when people were hired. Opening up in social atmospheres when people didn’t understand why I chose not to. And meeting my boyfriend.

Mitch was something else, and with him, my mind could never make a decision.

When we met, impulse control decided to fly out the window. He paid for my coffee at a diner, and I had gone to thank him, only to end up at a table with him for an hour. He was sweet. He was really sweet. He had beautiful eyes, and a light soul. He had a few flaws. A little too much energy for my taste, and maybe a little too fidgety.

Aside from those factors, he had gotten my phone number.

On our first date, I struggled between choosing a blue or white dress to wear. The symbolisms of both colors had me uncertain. In the end, I chose red, because it brought out my complexion nicely.

It was a simple dinner, but I found myself interviewing Mitch like he was trying to get a job. There were many pros, and a handful of cons. It stressed me out that certain words I used, he did not understand. I also hated the way he would clench his hands into fists every so often. I learned later, it was a nervous habit of his. I also learned, that he’d done it so much on that date, because I intimidated him immensely.

Mitch told me of his dog, which I was iffy on, and in love with at the same time. He ran his hands through his hair a few times, displacing the brown locks with each pass of his hand. He told me of his career and his friends. Then we had gone out for dessert. Something as simple as ice cream, but I struggled to make a decision. When I’d asked him, “can I get two?” He looked at me with a smile and a questioning expression, but nodded nonetheless.

I had to explain to him, that I wanted to try something new, but needed a backup plan if it backfired. So the second flavor was my go-to. My favorite one. It was on that date that I realized I didn’t have a backup plan if whatever Mitch was to me went south.

That frightened me away from him for a while. He tried to reach out, so much so that I hated how sporadic his texts could be. I hated that he couldn’t just choose one time of day to be a bother. It was only when my coworker spotted the messages, and helped talk me into it, that I decided to go on another date with him.

Mitch might have been a little lacking in common sense, but he wasn’t a complete lost cause. He often commented things like, “you’re weird,” or “that’s different,” when it came to my behaviors. Those words were always spoken with giggles and smiles, so I never took them to heart. But I knew he was right, and I knew he knew I was different. But for once, he made me feel like ‘different’ didn’t have to be a bad thing.

Mitch and I had odd ways of getting to know each other. I asked him endless strict questions, ones that often branched off whatever the answer was to a previous question. And Mitch often listened. He didn’t have to ask as many questions as I did, because he learned I always explained things in depth or I did things with no reason at all. He liked to call me, “unpredictably predictable.”

It took me some time to warm up to the idea of dating, but once we got together, I saw it through.

Mitch was a guy who liked to live life in the fast lane, but I learned that he often changed those lanes for me. He was willing to slow down and wait when I needed him to.

I attended a few of his hockey games. Depending on which disorder was more prominent those nights, I’d be down by the glass, or in a personal suite. I met his team on a few occasions, but I sometimes struggled to hold conversations with them.

Too many people would want to hold too many conversations, and I’d be in the midst of talking to one, only to derail myself and get lost on a sidetrack, and I’d completely forget what was going on.

I usually found Mitch in those situations, and one instance had been the first time where he realized I tended to just.. not speak, when I was overwhelmed. There was something so safe and secure about not engaging, that I had a habit of sinking into those nonverbal tendencies when there was a lot going on around me, or in my head.

When we moved in together, we experienced a lot of that. The actual moving in process had gone surprisingly smoothly. Despite all the change being such a stressor, I had so much excitement inside, that I managed to remain talkative enough to help Mitch get my things where I wanted them. It was the time after I was officially in, that tended to be difficult. I had to get used to a place that wasn’t my own, and didn’t feel like my own for the longest time. I avoided the throw pillows on the couch because the texture was horrid. I didn’t like the fact that I could see dog hair on things at times, and I certainly hated the way he had his towels organized.

There were days Mitch would come home from games and practices, only to find me on my love seat in the corner, a pair of headphones in staring off into space while I had one of his athletic sweatshirts on. One of which I always enjoyed pulling my knees up into, and hugging them while the arm sleeves hung loosely and unoccupied by my sides.

The first few times it happened, Mitch would think nothing of it, pop the earbuds out of my ears, and start talking about his day. Sometimes it aggravated me, and once it even stressed me out enough to snap at him.

Over time, he learned that it was easier to gesture for me to scoot over so he could squeeze his body in beside me. I would be the first to initiate contact if I wanted it. If not, we would sit in silence until I shared an earbud with him, or until I wanted to talk.

It quickly became a routine between us. Something Mitch also learned that I enjoyed. Routines. On the days he came home and I was talkative and excited, we could live and love smoothly. On other days, we learned how to make things work.

Mitch had an off day after winning the game his team played the night before. It was always a weird occurrence when I had to leave him in the mornings, but I’d done fairly well at adjusting to his horribly unorganized hockey schedule. I never would have expected exposure to so much change, to be so helpful for me. But it truly was.

I had bid my lover goodbye that morning with a smile and a hand through his hair as I kissed his cheek. He flashed his pretty teeth at me, and promised to text on my lunch break, unless I wanted to reach out sooner.

As it turned out, I never reached out before then. And I didn’t answer his messages when he reached out during my lunch hour.

People had been laid off at my workplace. Something that sadly happened in many places sometimes. Losing coworkers and gaining a new workload wasn’t necessarily something I was thrilled about. It meant I’d have to rearrange my whole schedule and the way I handled my work. It meant I’d have to redistribute my work hours so I could fit all of my additional projects in a normal day and successfully finish it.

In short, it meant everything had to change.

Only this time, there was nothing to be excited about.

I played with my hair all day, I lost focus, I blankly stared, I ignored people and any kind advances of small talk. I even ignored Mitch.

I stayed at work well past the time I was scheduled to clock out. I didn’t expect extra pay, I just wanted to efficiently reconstruct my schedule. I only clocked out to go home, after I had that sorted. Which was four hours after five. The end of my usual work day.

I’d only texted Mitch once when he asked if I was okay around six. I told him, ‘I’m fine.’

My stare was blank but my mind was running rampant all the way out of the office and back to our shared home. I ignored anybody and everybody, in the lobby, in the elevator, in the hall. Inevitably, I even ignored Zeus when I stepped through the front door of our modern home.

The poor lab was so excited to see me, but I couldn’t have been bothered to pet him. I kicked my shoes off and lined them up against the edge of the shoe mat by the door. I made sure to lock it before I stepped away.

“Babe?” Mitch’s footsteps fell on selectively deaf ears. I didn’t want to be in his presence. I just wanted to be alone. I slipped down the hall and into the kitchen to escape him, and I thought it had worked when I heard his movement stop.

“Babe?” He repeated. My shoulders fell as he peeked into the kitchen. My intense stare was a telltale sign of my inner turmoil. He looked unfazed. He also looked like he’d just gotten out of bed. His hair was a hot mess, and his eyes had that dazed sort of look that a child has when they’re woken up from the nap of a lifetime. His sleep schedule was absolute shit anyway. That’s what happens when you drink too many energy drinks through the day.

“Hey. Did they have you on overtime tonight?” He smiled at me. I couldn’t answer. I physically couldn’t force myself to open my mouth. I hated that I did this to him.

“Okay.. I can do this too.” Mitch adapted quickly to the silence. “I figured it was one of those nights.” He voiced as he walked across the kitchen, opening my snack cabinet. “You always text me back, it’s pointless to have a planned hour to text if you’re not going to text.” He wasn’t insulting me, he was restating sentences I said once. Reasons I gave for why I always responded to him. He was backing up his theory on why I’d had a bad day.

Mitch pulled out a bag of chips and pushed the cabinet shut before he made his way over to the fridge. He pulled out one of my favorite cold drinks, and went about the kitchen grabbing a few other options to snack on. He knew me so well, I almost thought it unfair.

“Will you come lay in bed with me?” His question was asked with a set of puppy eyes I had to roll my own eyes at. But I gave in nonetheless.

Mitch led me back to our room, and I was surprised to find the dark area lit up with the orange glow from our bedside lamp. My weighted blanket was already laid out on my side, and one of my favorite books was on the nightstand.

“I know you don’t want to talk, and that’s fine,” Mitch made his way around the bed to set the snacks on my nightstand, as well as the drink he grabbed. “But was it a really bad night, or just.. just a little overwhelming?”

He remained tentative, only pursing his lips and letting out a sigh when I stared him down.

“Not even gonna give me a nod?” He pried with a hopeful smile. I decided I was done with the eye contact too, my gaze met the floor. “Alright. Why don’t you just come lay down then.” He pulled back the weighted blanket, and I met him on my side of the bed. I reached for Mitch’s hand as I climbed into bed, and he held mine, keeping me steady as I got in. I was quick to break the contact after I decided I no longer needed it.

Mitch slipped his way back around to his own side of the bed, and climbed in next to me. He leaned over the edge of the bed, and his actions caught my attention momentarily.

“Zeus wants up.” Mitch looked back to me for approval. I gave a curt nod.

Soon enough, I heard him tapping his thigh, and the whole bed shake when the big dog hopped up. Zeus tried to quickly step over Mitch to get to me, but my lover was swift in tucking a finger beneath the dog’s collar to stop him.

I never minded Zeus cuddles on bad days. Well sometimes I did. But I never enjoyed him in my face. Mitch only let the dog go once Zeus settled. I slowly shifted to lay down, and the lab found his place by my feet, his head rested on top of my ankles.

“Good boy.” Mitch praised before he slipped his phone from his pocket. He checked the time, then set the device on his own nightstand.

I rolled onto my side and grabbed my book, opening to the page I had marked. I felt my weighted blanket shift, only to realize Mitch was pulling it up over my body. So caring. So gentle. I’d watched him hit guys and cross check them. I’d watched him let teammates’ bodies crash into him for pregame rituals. Mitch was such a rambunctious guy, that I sometimes liked to playfully question if he had an alter ego at home.

I don’t know how long I laid there, reading and flipping through pages. What I did know, was that my lover had not once left my side. Nor did he make any noise. He had the tv on, playing old episodes of Friends, but the sound was muted and the captions were on.

I slowly rested my book on the bedside table, turning on my back to peek at the tv before I looked up at Mitch. I sighed. Before I wanted to be left alone. Now, I wanted him.

I shimmied to his side and carefully rested my head in his lap. Mitch looked down at me, a smile slow to form on his lips. His hands found my hair, gently carding through and scratching at my scalp.

My eyes focused on the tv, one of my hands tucked up close to my chest while the other rested on Mitch’s leg.

“Can I lay down with you?” His soft voice earned a nod from me. I lifted my head and moved away while he pulled his shirt off and slipped beneath the weighted blanket with me. Our bodies faced one another, and he was hesitant at first to reach for me. So I instead, reached for him.

I tucked myself into Mitch’s chest, and he wrapped an arm around me. I felt his chest heave with a sigh, and I rested one of my hands there to feel his heartbeat. He pressed kisses to my head and temple, gently ran his hand up and down my back.

Sometimes life could be overwhelming, but one thing I never minded being overwhelmed by was Mitch. He wasn’t like a hurricane, or some devastating storm. No, he was the ocean, coming in waves. Some harsher than others, but if one knew how to face those waves, and surf them, they could stay afloat.

I had Mitch figured out like an intricate word problem. I knew every variable and obstacle, and every possible solution. I got used to his predictable behaviors, and learned to cope with the unpredictable ones. I was always thankful that Mitch was such an open book when it came to anything. His communication helped me and our relationship.

“I know you had a really bad day.. and just- just let me know if you don’t want me to talk..” he paused, and gave me enough time to protest. I didn’t. The sound of his voice was soothing.

“You’re doing so good, you know that? Every day you’re conquering something new, and I am so proud of you. I know it seems big, but right now it’s just a bump in the road. Whatever you’re going through.” His words of encouragement fell from his lips in faint whispers. I buried my head further into Mitch’s chest. His embrace tightened around me.

“And I’m always here. Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’m ready to listen.” Mitch carded his hand through my hair once again. “I love the sound of your voice.” I could hear the coaxing tone- the smirk on his lips, the way he tried subtly to get me to open up.

It almost worked.

“I love your laugh too.” He pressed a kiss to my head once more. His hand left my hair, and I soon felt it tickle my side. I gasped and reached down to swat his hand away.

“No.”

When I looked up toward him, I could tell that singular word lit him up like a Christmas tree.

So Mitch brought his hand back to my side, and I wasn’t swift enough to push him away before he earned a quiet giggle from my lips. An involuntary giggle. But it did distract me from my own brooding. I couldn’t decide if I was mad at him for disrespecting my boundary, or mad that he knew me well enough to test those limits because sometimes it worked.

“Yeah.. that laugh right there.” Mitch winced when I grabbed his hand, perhaps a bit harsher than I meant to. I pushed his hand away and turned back over, simply to escape his contagious happiness.

He didn’t let me go very easily. He was quick to shimmy his body up against my own, his arm wrapping around my hip again. I tensed in anticipation.

“I’m done.. I’m done. I promise.” I nodded very slowly, and eventually melted into his embrace.

Sometimes I had trouble communicating it, but Mitch was easily my favorite person to be with. My favorite person, period.

I basked in our silence and the occasional sound of Mitch’s soft giggles. I assumed he was laughing at the tv, but my lack of knowing for sure, had me turning in his arms and onto my back. I just had to know what it was. Sure enough, I found his eyes glued to the screen. I rested my hands by his own on my stomach, and gently hooked my fingers beneath the rubber wristband he wore. I ran my thumbs against it and felt the smoothness on one side, likewise the divots of words on the outside.

My eyes settled on the tv, and when Mitch caught on, he reached for the remote to unmute it, but still kept the volume quiet enough to not bother me. Zeus seemed to have enough of all the moving and shifting, as he hopped onto the floor and curled up in his own bed near the corner of the room. The dog bed poor Zeus had to be evicted to when I moved in.

I heard Mitch yawn, and it only took moments before my body returned the gesture. He smiled at me.

“I love you.” Mitch pressed one last kiss to the corner of my lips, then pulled away. I didn’t have to respond. We’d been through this enough times for him to know I felt the same.

I always knew he could tell, because there was a sincere look of fondness that followed the hopefulness after he spoke. He was never disappointed on nights when I didn’t say it back. Instead he was simply happy to know I heard him. To know I felt loved.

Nevertheless, I liked to try. I felt he always deserved that after being so patient and loving.

I leaned forward and pressed a hand to his chest. I opened my mouth to say the words, but my breath fell short.

“It’s okay.” Mitch met me halfway, his gaze dropped to my lips as his nose bumped mine. He pressed a chaste kiss to my lips, one that was soft and smooth. One that had me melting into his embrace as he rolled onto his back and slipped an arm beneath me. I curled into his side and rested my head on his chest. Seconds, minutes, a few episodes of Friends passed, before my breathing slowed and my consciousness escaped me. The last thing I heard before I fell asleep, was the faint sound of Chandler’s sarcastic laughter, and Mitch whispering another,

“I love you.”

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Come on Barbie, let's go party

so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

okay so i just got my dream job??? a week after applying to it?? and now i’m thinking….maybe this is the good luck post

…..not even six hours later i got an offer of a well paying full time long-term job with free room and board in queens in nyc, allowing me independence and a way to escape an abusive situation and an unhealthy environment

likes charge reblogs cast, folks, this is the good luck post

i need all the help i can get for finals

Hey so

the last time I reblogged this post right before I got a great job, in a permanent work-from-home position, with benefits, retirement, and a salary literally 3x what I was making before, doing something I really like. 

So you know. 

This might be the real one, y’all.