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#if someone is like. really bad at catching it I do unfollow but usually it’s more a cumalitive thing
raskies456 · 2 years
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like I get that these things are subtle and that everyone makes mistakes, but when you go out of your way to avoid exclusionists it really sucks to see people unwittingly putting their rhetoric on your dash
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heartnanase · 7 months
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it’s a privilege to be ignorant
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Angst cuz i’m silly like that sorry guys basically xinyan threatens to tell childe you like him and you were like no hahah stop then backflip
they/them pronouns used once
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“childe asks why you unfollowed him on instagram..” xinyan catches up to you, couldn’t she take the hint? you were walking as fast as you could.. kinda….. you had a feeling she would ask. her and childe are bestfriends, they tell eachother everything. you chuckle to yourself as she glares at you in disgust. what? did his ego get wounded? “cause he sucks.” you mumble. really you only unfollowed him because, you were upset by his teasing when he said he was going to delete the photos of you and him for storage on his phone. lame isn’t.. it… you actually… liked him.
never. in. a. million. years. would you imagine liking childe. it’s pretty simple how you fell for him, when he first gave you advice seriously. it was like seeing a side of him that you never did before. when you went home that night you were circling your room figuring out ways to not fall for someone the thing is, before you fell for childe you already knew he liked someone else. actually you already knew who it was. that’s why you SWORE to yourself you wouldn’t let him find out. xinyan grabbed your phone, “hey stop day dreaming, why do you keep shutting childe out!” you look at her.
“listen xinyan..” you grabbed back your phone as she stops trying to fight for it back after hearing you speak. “everything’s fine i’m fine me and childe are fine.” she didn’t look very convinced, you hated people like this. ones who act like they can see right through you, because xinyan will never understand how you feel. “i won’t leave you alone til you tell me what’s-“ you groan to shut her up. “i like him. i like him okay now can you leave me alone!” she smiles in excitement jumping up and down planning how you should tell him and that she could set you up with him. this was exactly how you thought she’d act. “this is so cute how are you going to confess!” you raised your eye brows as she clings onto you yapping and blabbing oh my goodness “no this was a bad idea let’s just forget about this”
“fine if you won’t tell him i will.” she was about to walk away and you grab her wrists as you stumble on your words. you sigh, “wait! i will! but only because i will never let my feelings be said from someone other than me.” you walked away from her as you tried to find childe, and when you did you gulped. you guys were already on awkward terms and now it’s going to be even worse. you tapped on his shoulder “i like you” he pretended not to hear you and turned around and offered you a dumpling, it broke your heart. “are you seriously going to ignore what i said you did everything to not tear up. “i-i just don’t know what to say look i’m sorry i’m not ready for a relationship.. maybe in the future?” bullshit bullshit bullshit. you already knew he wouldn’t like you in the future he’s just being nice. you already knew what he was going to say, you already knew he was going to reject you. but it still hurts.
for months your bestfriend has been telling you to get revenge on xinyan for driving you confess, but if you did get revenge. you would’ve been the reason he doesn’t have a bestfriend anymore. so you never told childe about it, how you never actually wanted to confess. well you and childe haven’t spoken since. usually you just send him glares and insult him when he tries to make conversation. you were only doing this so he’d think you hate him and so that maybe he can hate you too, it’s beneficial to him. the more you pretend to hate him, the faster he hates you then forgets about you.
a year later and you can’t forget about how you ended. it wasn’t easy for you, it was eating you alive when you saw childe. you turned your back to a wall and listened on him, you overheard him saying “i just don’t get how you could let go of someone close to you so easily? it took me 3 months to get over it and it took them a day.” you smile as you look down because you were still deep into it a year later, and the thing is you cant even blame him for being angry about it because he doesn’t know that you risked your reputation all so he doesn’t think you care. does he know people have been staring at you like a heartless creature?
at the same time you’re happy because, at least he got over it. there was nothing in this world that you wanted more was to be selfish, to tell him everything you’ve been dying to admit. but if he found out the truth he’d feel guilty. so you stayed silent. it’s better this way anyways, he’s happy.. he’s moved on. and you’re…. yk. you.
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i love xinyan
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mariahmarie13 · 6 months
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i’ve been feeling quite anxious recently, my meds are not working as strongly as they usually would, so i have started relying on myself to make myself feel better. here are some things i’ve done recently to make myself feel even a tiny bit better. 🪴
• i’ve started journaling ATLEAST once a day. wether that be morning or night, i try not to force myself to write positively but just let whatever thoughts flow on the page. sometimes i draw cute little pictures. sometimes i doodle. it gets my mind off things.
• deep breathing. i’ve been doing this ALOT recently and it really helps push those anxious tummy tuning feelings away. it feels like i can finally catch my breath again. close your eyes. breathe in, then out. picture something peaceful too, or something comforting.
• don’t deprive yourself of snacks. if you don’t have an appetite but haven’t eaten anything all day but your craving some chocolate, then eat that chocolate!it’s better than not eating nothing. don’t feel guilty, you deserve a little treat!
• going to bed at a reasonable hour. do not stay up into the ams.. that is literally my motto. going to bed before 12 you are more likely to get at least 7/8 hours of sleep. my thoughts tend to get worse at night so I prefer to sleep earlier and then feel refreshed tomorrow.
• watch your comfort tv show or movie. watching something we have seen before usually can bring us a sense of comfort, because we know what’s going to happen and we know how it’s going to end. this will stop us from watching anything possibly triggering to us.
• unfollow people online that don’t reflect your life. wether that be appearance or body wise, financial and budget wise, etc. we tend to compare ourselves to others online so it’s much better to have them be people that can positively impact our lives instead.
• adding to the reading - put your phone away at bed time, pick up a book instead, ive found recently that reading helps me fall asleep a lot quicker than scrolling online.
• reply to people in your own time. don’t feel obligated to respond to texts and calls straight away.
• i will read atleast one chapter of a book, even if I don’t want to, sometimes i find pushing myself to do this i can really get stuck into the book and finally let my mind rest while i read.
• it’s okay to have a bad day. don’t punish yourself for feeling down. it’s normal, it’s not the end of the world. you’ve gotten through days like this before. remind yourself that this too shall pass.
• take yourself on a date. wether that be to a coffee shop for your fave drink and desert, to your local thrift store with your headphones and podcast on or even just to the beach to watch the waves and journal. spending time by yourself is so important.
• stay hydrated. make sure your drinking plenty of water. i drink sparkling flavoured water because it makes drinking water more enjoyable for me so it doesn’t feel like this awful task.
• stuffed animals and teddies are a lifesaver for me. specially one that smells like someone i love. inhaling that scent and cuddling when your loved one isn’t there is so comforting, and makes me feel so at ease and comforted.
• get outside. atleast once a day!wether that’s on the way to work, to walk to the shop, anything!being outside, letting the sun hit your face or even the breeze on your skin, is so uplifting..put on some music or a podcast and just walk.
• pick up a budget friendly hobby. something that’s fun that doesn’t cost too much money, preferably something that doesn’t involve screen-time. ex: knitting, painting, journaling, colouring, upcycling old clothes, etc.
• light an incense & some candles. turn off the big light in the room & leave only the lamp on. this usually relaxes me whilst reading, watching tv etc. i get overstimulated a lot, especially when it comes to lighting. soft lighting really helps.
• clean your space. i feel absolutely awful if my space is a mess. i try and set a target for myself to do at least one act of cleaning a day, that way i’m not overwhelmed, im doing it at my own pace & i can feel accomplished and proud of myself.
• eat atleast three meals a day. do not skip breakfast! even if it’s only a little bowl of cereal or a granola bar and some coffee, trust me you will thank yourself later when you actually don’t feel like passing out.
• learn to appreciate the things you already have, such as clothes, gadgets, games, etc!you have so much to be grateful for, you really don’t need anything else. you’re so lucky to own a tv to watch your fave show or a laptop to play your fave game. remember that.
• put a positive podcast on in the background whilst doing other tasks. i find this actually helps me think positively even when I’m not actually focused on the podcast. i was shocked at how well this actually works.
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xxlovelynovaxx · 9 months
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Just a reminder that this blog is kff-safe because we've never seen a movement based on gatekeeping identity/labels (rather than focused on shutting down actual bad behavior) that wasn't toxic, prescriptivist, and ultimately rooted in some of the same bigotry it claims to fight.
I don't care if some people who used the label were shitty. I supremely don't ever want to hear whining about "that's not what [label] MEANS". I'm otherkin as in "I literally am these identities", both spiritually and psychologically, alongside linktypes and constels and related identities. I'm endel and alterhuman and so many other things. I'll still defend kff'ers having the right to exist.
Also for the people we saw saying "see otherlinkers and stuff actually made their OWN terms and didn't steal ours or try to pretend they were actual kin": L + you sound like every pathetic exclusionist ever but especially like biphobic lesbians/gays + I hope otherkin catches on even more as an umbrella term so linkers and such can call themselves kin and you choke on your own words + those are your alterhuman siblings and it doesn't fucking matter what they call themselves because that's who they ARE.
And yes I know kff usually means "people who relate to rather than are". How many of us before we realized our kintypes just thought we really related to them? Is keeping out the "bad fakers and kintrenders" really worth hurting actual otherkin by delaying their egg cracking or even fakeclaiming them because they just haven't realized yet? Because telling them they're not kin if they only relate to something won't make them realize "oh it's more than relating" it's just going to shut down their questioning of their identity and drive them into denial.
"Oh noooo someone is using a secondary definition for a term we use. I've never opened a dictionary so I think words can only ever have one meaning and therefore they're stealing it and also harming me by relating to the creature or object or concept or character/person that I innately am." /s
"Words have meanings" oh so are you a te/rf, a sys/med, an anti-mspec-lesbian, or a run of the mill exclusionist, bigot, or abuser? Because those are the groups I've heard use that argument. I've heard it about everything from "people who've been in this community longer than I've been alive can't use the label I just realized fits me too" to "you're not actually experiencing abuse/bigotry, those words have meaning and what I'm doing isn't that". So like, great company you keep. /s
This is a hardline stance for us. Anti-kff fuck off. Block or unfollow or whatever but DNFI.
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islandofmuses · 1 year
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This is a low activity blog
*Hello* everyone, my name is Sandra, you can call me Sandy or by my full name, as you wish, I’m 34 and I’ve Rplaying on tumblr since 2012, took a break around 2016 as my real life got in the way, and I’ve been back since late 2020.
I like to think of myself as a friendly person, I’m always willing to chat.
My ask is always open, I’m willing to do cross-overs and fandomless threads for my muses, I’m more than willing to write with ocs, everyone is welcomed! never be afraid to poke me of you wanna write, also if we’ve been interacting for a while feel free to ask for my discord!
Rules under the cut!! 
Muses & Muses
Open Starters
Rules under the cut!
Frist of all, I’m a very opened person so never be scared to ask me for plots, even if you think they don’t fit, I’m sure we’ll be able to come up with something.
I’m of age and so are all my characters but I will not write smut. If our characters are in a relatioship, I’m okay with the leading up to, but there’s a point I’m going to ask you to fade to black, please respect that, I do not like to write full on sexual scenes do not push me into this. Goes without saying, if you’re a minor then, I’m sorry but as 34 year old person, I’d rather not write with you.
If you have any questions, want to chat, want to plot ALWAYS feel free to reach out.
Replies will be slow, I am adult with a job and other hobbies and blogs, so sometimes its going to be hard to catch up, feel free to poke me if I’ve gone too long without replying.
I am willing to do Discord RP, but I need to have interacted with you, at least ooc a couple of times to feel comfortable doing so
It goes without saying : NO FORCE SHIPPING!!!!
English is not my main language, please understand and excuse me if I make any mistakes, as much as I put in the efford sometimes it happens.
My opens are mutuals and non-mutual unless stated otherwise. And always opened to be picked up at any time.
As for following, I’m not that selective, usually I always follow back, however if I don’t, please don’t take it personaly, it’s either me not wanting to approach certain plots, or wanting to take myself away from certain things for my own sake. If I follow you and than unfollow after a while, it simply means we probaly never interacted and I want to keep my dash clean, which leads me to the next point, I will unfollow if you don’t cut post and I have to scroll trough a lot, I’m sorry, its nothing personal, but its a bit annoying to me. However this doesn’t mean I won’t write with you.
Regarding Fcs, as long as you’re not using someone under 18, someone who asked not to be used, or has done some really bad things then its fine. You should be able to pick whoever you want, and I don’t chery pick fcs, I care about your character not the FC you use for them. If you have low resources or none at all, its not really my place to not write you over that, I’m okay with not using GIFs, icons etc. In the end we’re here to write, right? 😁❤️
I also ask of you not chery pick my fcs either. I understand if you’re a fan of someone I’m using, and of course I will write that character with you, but please look at the character not their face. I’ve had some bad experiences with this, which is probably why I like to stick with mostly underused fcs for my characters.
I’ll do my best to TW anything I see that can cause triggers to other, but if you see anything in my content that I’ve forgeten to, pease feel free to tell me.
I like ships as much as everyone, but I don’t usually plan ships, unless with my closest RP friends, I usually go with chemistry.
Goes without saying I do not tolarate any kind of drama, I’m only here to write and have fun, so please be respectful!
That is all, thank you so much for reading all this, the rules as mainly for you to know what I’m opened to, so there’s no confusion on any of the parts, have a good day and happy writting!!
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matwith1t · 3 years
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A/N: A part two!! As much as I love angst…I couldn’t leave the first part like that 🥴 You don’t have to read the first part to understand this fic, but you’ll definitely catch some little call backs!! If you have any feedback, I’d love to hear it all!! I hope you’re all having a wonderful morning/afternoon/evening !
Summary: Nearly a year since the break up with Mat, your life slowly started to revert back to life before him. But all of that progress goes away when you keep crossing paths.
MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂 | Mat Barzal x Reader
Warnings: swearing, drinking // WC: 15K // Angst & Fluff
With the sun shining down, and no clouds in the sky to cover up its hard rays, it felt a bit warmer than the usual October day in New York. It was neither an excruciating humid day like the summers, nor a brutally frigid winter day. It just felt…average. But something in the air made the average day feel abnormal.
Maybe forgetting to set your alarm, and rushing to get ready, had something to do with why you felt on edge. Or maybe it had something to do with finding a crinkled polaroid picture of you and Mat––him laughing and you looking up at him––that you found in your sock drawer last night.
Maybe it was the picture.
But you definitely knew your sour mood could be traced back to this morning––seven minutes ago to be exact––when you ordered a coffee and the barista informed you that they were out of an ingredient for the drink you wanted.
“It’s not that bad,” your friend, Kennady, came up to stand beside you after she finished ordering her drink, “Worse things could happen.”
With a deep breath through your nose, you crossed your arms over your chest, “I know…”
And you knew things could be worse. There had been days in the past ten months that were definitely worse than a coffee shop being out of an ingredient to send you into a spiral. But this minute detail in the beginning of your day felt too mundane compared to everything you had felt in the past. And for some reason, it bothered you more than it should have.
Was it a sign that you were getting over him?
With a quiet laugh to yourself and a slight shake of your head at that thought, you quickly buried the idea. Not a chance, you thought to yourself.
When a barista called out your name for your americano, you politely excused yourself around other customers until you got to the counter. With a tight smile, and a small thanks, you picked up your coffee and went over to a little station where you could fix the drink to your liking.
You were in the middle of opening a sugar packet when you heard someone questionably call out your name.
It was an accent you hadn’t heard in quite sometime…A friendly French-Canadian accent that always reassured you of Mat’s feelings whenever he wasn’t in the room. After all, it’s what any best friend would do.
Not expecting to run into anyone during your little outing, your hand jerked back in surprise––sugar flying out of the packet––as you spun around in shock.
“Oh, I––Wow, Tito––I’m so sorry,” you tried to laugh, tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest as you met his blue eyes, but you hadn’t seen him––or a picture of him––since you unfollowed him on every social media platform you had him on.
Like every time you found yourself in his presence, he smiled, “Don’t worry about it, really,” he brushed off the sugar from his sweatshirt, “Shouldn't have snuck up on you.”
You shook your head and waved him off, a ball of anxiety slowly brewing in the pit of your stomach. Because you knew if Tito was here, then Mat would be too. The two of them always traveled in a pair; you learned that they were a package deal early on in your relationship. And you could pray all you wanted that Tito was on a solo coffee run, but by his freshly showered look and Islanders athletic wear…You knew he had just come from a practice.
“It’s okay,” you closed the lid on your americano, forgetting all about adding sugar or creamer in it, “How’re you?”
“I’ve been good,” He smiled, eyes glancing down to your foot tapping against the hardwood floor, “Yeah, just busy playing a lot of…Hockey.” His voice trailed off at the end of his sentence, as if he thought hockey might still be a sore spot for you.
And in a way, it was.
Tito cleared his throat, “And you?” He politely turned the question to you, “How…How’s the job?”
Relieved he didn’t ask you how you’ve been, you smiled softly, “It’s really great, I’ve had a lot more time to concentrate on it.” You looked over his shoulder to see if you could see Mat anywhere in the coffee shop, “I’ve been given more responsibilities.”
“That’s great to hear,” Tito sounded genuine, “I don’t want to hold you up, but it was really great to see you.”
Tito had always been very emotionally intelligent with identifying others feelings, and you had no doubt he picked up on your uneasiness.
You offered him a smile, “It was good to see––“
“Did you grab my coffee?”
The smile dropped from your face and instead of feeling the anxiety in your stomach churn, you felt nauseous.
Tito looked at Mat with the same hung open mouth and wide eyes that you had. Mat came up next to him so nonchalantly––so casually––as if he didn’t know he was in front of the person whose heart he knowingly wrecked nearly a year ago.
Still unable to form a sentence, Tito’s eyes briefly glanced over at you, standing frozen, “Yeah I––yeah.”
As if Mat sensed some tension in the air, he followed Tito’s vision. He had to do a double take, seemingly not trusting his vision that you were right in front of him. And in an instant, just like you and Tito, his eyes slightly widened and his mouth hung open. You knew that he was thinking the same thing as you…that you had gone nearly ten months of living in the same city and had not run into each other once.
But now that streak was broken.
Your breathing stopped as you looked at him for the first time since that unfortunate day in December where the air felt a little colder than the rest of the month.
As usual during the season, he was clean shaven, but you saw a few small pimples littered on his chin. He looked more tired than usual, but had a slight glow to his skin from a recent shower. The ends of his hair flicked out under his baseball hat, just above his ear. You always used to tell him how cute those flecks of hair looked as he tried to push them behind his ear.
But the one thing that made your heart shatter was the sweatshirt he was wearing. It was the navy blue Islanders sweatshirt from a few seasons ago that you had found stuffed away in the back of your closet last year.
The one you broke down into as your mother held you.
The one that Kennady took away when she saw that you still held on to it after you said you’d donate it. It caused quite the argument between the two of you…You wanted to keep the sweatshirt because––while it was delusional for you to think––maybe Mat would notice it was missing, then he would reach out, and you would talk again. Kennady didn’t think that was very healthy and said she would pass it along to Tito.
And pass it along she had.
With a shaky breath, and one last look at the man who you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with, you spun around with your coffee and walked away.
You had only gotten a few steps away when you felt a burning hand catch onto your elbow, “Y/N…”
His hand hadn’t left your elbow, and you stood stiff in the middle of the coffee shop,“I have somewhere to be,” you said to him without turning around.
“Can we talk?”
His voice was barely audible––a plea––a whisper that should’ve easily been lost in the chaos of the coffee shop, but whenever he was around, all you did was solely pay attention to him.
You gulped, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Not here,” he was quick to follow up, knowing he shouldn’t be this lucky to get this much time with you, “I just––I want––How’re you?”
With an irritated sigh through your nostrils, and clenched jaw, you spun around to face him. Half of you melted at his wide and pleading eyes, a mix of uncertainty and care, but the other half of you wanted to leave him standing alone without an answer; much like he did with you when he broke your heart.
“Do you need something?”
He looked taken aback by your bluntness, “I…” Nervously, he took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair, “I scored a hat trick last week.”
You despised the way your heart fluttered with pride at his accomplishment.
Instead of focusing on the unconventional feeling of your heart soaring with pride, but simultaneously feeling crushed in his presence, you tried your best to respond with a monotone voice.
“So, a start to a good season?”
Again, he looked confused at your short phrases and general disinterest in what he had to say, “We…Yeah, looks like a good season. Last season was good too..” His eyes briefly left yours to look at your slightly shaking hand that was holding the coffee cup, “Did you…Have you caught any games?”
“I don’t watch hockey anymore.”
Unlike his sentences that wavered with doubt, your sentences were sharp and unremorseful.
But you knew your stoic demeanor came closer to breaking with every second you stood in front of him. It had been ten months since the break up, you should be fine, you kept telling yourself. But seeing him and not being able to mutter an inside joke under your breath and hear him gently laugh, not being able to reach across the inches between you two and give his hand a squeeze, and not being able to muster up the smallest of smiles in front of the one person who could coax a smile out of you with just their presence…You felt the exhaustion catch up to you.
And like everyone else who asked if you watched any hockey lately, he looked stunned at your answer. Because when you were together, you never missed a game. While you weren’t always physically at a game; you either kept up with it by following social media updates, watching it on television, or listening to the radio broadcasts of the game while walking to the subway or in a cab.
“You…You don’t watch hockey?”
You could’ve given him the long answer. How you unfollowed everyone and everything related to Islanders hockey, blocked every variation of the Islanders team name from social media to keep any news from popping up, muted his name on Twitter, deleted the NHL app, and if you were at a restaurant with friends and a television had a hockey game on, you always requested to sit at the furthest table away from the game.
Instead, you shook your head, “No.”
The longer you stood in front of him, the more you felt your composure slip. You didn't like feeling out of control of a situation, and standing so close to him only reminded you of what you didn’t have anymore.
“I have to go.”
But again, he took a step forward and tried to stop you from leaving, “Please, can we just––”
If only he had fought this hard ten months ago to keep your relationship alive; you wouldn’t be running away and he wouldn’t be begging for a basic conversation.
You could feel the tears well up behind your eyes and the familiar sting as you shrugged off his touch, “Mat, I really can’t do this right now––”
“It doesn’t have to be now––”
“Mathew,” Kennady’s harsh voice ripped through Mat’s desperate one.
His arm fell to his side, accepting defeat, as he kept his pleading eyes on your frame, “Ken, hey––”
“We’re late for something,” she took the shaking coffee cup from your hand and looped an arm around your bicep, “We’re leaving.”
And with her direct tone, and guidance of turning you around to exit the coffee shop, she kept a strong hold on your arm for support. Your breathing became more irregular, because out of all the coffee shops in the area, how did you manage to run into him. Maybe you were meant to run into him…Maybe it was the universe’s way of telling you that maybe you should talk to him.
“Don’t turn around,” Kennady whispered in your ear as you came up to the door, “I know you want to, but don’t.”
The first tear fell when she opened the door and you so badly wanted to get one last look at him. One more look at the one person you would still love no matter how much time passed. The second tear fell when you were waiting for the light to change at a crosswalk, as Kennady whispered encouraging words. The third tear fell when the two of you made it to a park and sat down on a bench.
She handed your coffee back to you, “You did great,” and gave your shoulder an encouraging squeeze, “So great.”
You tried to take a sip of coffee, but your hand shook too much. You tried to swallow down the scratchiness at the back of your throat, but it only came back stronger, “Why…” Another single tear fell as your voice cracked, “Why wouldn’t you let me turn around?”
She offered you a sympathetic smile, “Because I know how much you still love him.”
A small pathetic laugh escaped your lips at her honest answer, and you tried your best to mirror her smile, but it was as everything had just caught up to you. You had felt his comforting touch on you again. Heard his soothing voice again. You were with him again.
With how persistent he was to talk with you, it felt like he wanted to be with you.
The tears welling up in your eyes caused your eyebrows to pull together as you cupped a hand to your mouth and over your nose. Slowly, you leaned your head onto Kennady’s shoulder as she placed a comforting arm around your shoulders that shook slightly.
––––
The next time you saw Mat was another coincidence.
You were in the living room of a house in Garden City, softly chatting with friends in the corner, when a sudden roar of cheers from the front of the house interrupted your conversation. You and your friends laughed it off as more drunk antics of other guests, but then you heard his name.
“The person who absolutely crushed tonight’s game and that we’re forever grateful is an Islander; Mat Barzal!”
More cheers of agreement.
The plastic of the red solo cup in your hand easily cracked under your grip.
Deep breath in, he won’t come into this room…Deep breath out, who does he even know here…Deep breath in, did he come alone…Deep breath out, or was he here with teammates since it was after a game…Deep breath in––Oh my God, Tito just walked in.
He caught your eye immediately, and just like at the coffee shop, his eyes widened along with yours. But unlike the coffee shop, he didn’t come over to greet you. Instead, he offered you a slight nod of his head and turned around on his heel. Vaguely, you heard him speak over the music and talk of the party, but all your ears could pick up was ‘let’s go to the kitchen…’
A sigh of relief passed through your lips as you felt your shoulders relax. The small group you had been part of for the better portion of the night all gave you knowing looks, eyebrows raised high.
“I’m alright,” You took a sip of your drink. None of them looked convinced, Kennady specifically, but you stifled out a laugh before you took another, much longer, sip of your drink, “Really! I’m alright. It’s been over a year…” You gulped and locked eyes with Kennady, “I’m alright.”
She didn’t look convinced, but restarted the previous conversation, diverting the attention away from you.
It was January, three months since you saw Mat at the coffee shop, and you were fine. At least you thought you were capable of not breaking down in front of him. While you still were without much––if any––closure after your relationship ended, seeing him at the coffee shop felt like turning a page. Not necessarily a whole chapter, but just enough to start feeling a little better.
You both lived around the same area and still had a few mutual friends. To think you would never see him ever again would be foolish, so you had to make the best of this situation. Although, part of you hoped not to run into him ever again.
There had been times where you overhead a ‘Barzy’ or a ‘Beau,’ an Islanders chant, or someone complimenting Mat on his goals of the game. But for the most part, it felt as if he wasn’t there. You enjoyed the rest of the night, but a few hours later, his laugh caught your ear and you saw him tilt his head back from your peripheral vision.
You hadn’t even realized he was in the same room.
Progress, you smiled into your red solo cup as you went to take a drink, small steps of progress.
But your tiny smile disappeared when you saw you were all out of alcohol. With a frown, you quietly excused yourself from your group and walked into the kitchen. You waved at people you recognized, and felt great up until this point of the night. With every genuine smile you offered a friend, they returned it with a sympathetic smile, assuming you were overcompensating happiness by being in the same place with your ex-boyfriend.
And in turn, it caused doubts to float through your mind.
Were you really feeling alright being so close in proximity to him? Were you really starting to feel the process of mending your broken heart, or were you lying to yourself? Would you break down if he were to cross paths with him?
Repeating your breathing exercise from earlier, you calmed yourself down as you weaved through more people to get to the kitchen. You weren’t sure if you wanted to have the same drink, or something different, so you stood still for a few moments debating in your head. You were far from coming to a decision, but when you heard a familiar voice say your name, you quickly came to a decision that you needed to be sober.
You spun around and came face to face with Mat.
Unlike the athletic wear you saw him in the last time, he was currently dressed in a white button up shirt tucked into a pair of navy slacks. The top two buttons of his shirt undone, his sleeves cuffed up, and a small wisp of hair rested against the side of his forehead.
You felt your heart erratically beat against your ribcage as you stood in front of him. He looked as if he didn’t expect you to turn around for him, and the two of you stood in silence. His brain failed at forming a thought, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.
“You got a haircut.”
Mat’s cheeks went red as he ducked his chin into his chest, letting out a small laugh, “Yeah,” he looked up at you with the faintest of smiles, “I did.”
Silence.
He brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, “Uh…What’re you drinking?”
Snapping back to reality, and to why you were in the kitchen in the first place, you blinked your eyes a few times, “Water.”
“There’s some––I can, here,” Mat stumbled over his feet, like he did with his words, as he walked past you and to the fridge. You followed him toward the fridge, and watched him lean forward to grab a water from the back. You only had a few seconds to admire his side profile before he stood up straight and uncapped the water bottle for you.
“Thanks,” you uneasily said as you took the water from him, making sure you didn’t brush your fingers against his.
Mat took a deep breath, looked away from you, and ran a hand through his hair. You could now hear your heartbeat in your ears, knowing exactly what he was about to ask.
“Can we talk?”
This was exactly why you wanted water.
You took a long sip of water, and watched as Mat anxiously fiddled with his fingers. You brought the bottle away from your lips and offered him a tight lipped smile, “Not now.”
He looked like he wanted to say more; like he wanted to push you to your limits in order to get any type of reaction from you, but he knew that you wouldn’t play into that, especially in public. So he took your words as a cliffhanger––not an outright no––that you would revisit the topic of conversation he wanted to discuss.
But in actuality, you planned to dodge the conversation if he ever brought it up again.
Mat stuffed his hands in his front pockets and rocked back on his heels, still not knowing how to direct the conversation, even though he was the one who approached you.
As you stood in silence with Mat, little by little, you began to overthink.
It was in a kitchen where you and Mat had first met. You were at a different mutual friend’s house, but it was eerily similar to how you met the first time…talking over drinks. Except this time, there was so much history between the two of you that it was hard to find some common ground to talk about without feeling like you were walking on eggshells.
The first time you met him, you had only heard his name in passing from occasionally tuning into Islanders games or hearing your friends talk about their friend Mat. The conversation flowed easily, laughter was present nearly every minute the two of you talked, and he slowly moved toward you thinking you didn’t notice him trying.
But you noticed everything.
Like now; you noticed there was no conversation, no laughter present, and how Mat leaned slightly away from you. There were too many memories that couldn’t be forgotten. Too many nights where the two of you were at a friends house like this, but would ride home together with fingers intertwined, instead of leaving separately which would happen tonight. Too many nights where there was an extra set of clothes on his bedroom floor that looked like they belonged.
Too many feelings involved.
You wanted to believe that you were strong enough not to break down in front of him again. You wanted to think that you were alright; wanted to think that you weren’t moments away from shutting down and having your heart wrecked all over again. But you didn’t want to leave his presence just yet. You weren’t at your tipping point yet.
“You had a game tonight?”
Mat nodded his head rapidly, taking in any interaction and conversation he could get with you. He seemed to also not want to leave your presence just yet.
“It was a good game,” he easily smiled with a shrug of his shoulders.
You let out a small laugh and rolled your eyes, “Stop being modest,” if you were closer to him, and felt more comfortable, you would’ve shoved his shoulder, “People were cheering your name when you arrived.”
His eyebrows rose with excitement, “You heard all of that?”
“Now tell me how you really played,” you tilted your head back slightly to take a sip of water.
There was a smile toying on your face, but the grin on Mat’s face stretched from ear to ear, “Really fucking good,” he let out a breathy laugh, “I scored twice, had some really nice plays, a couple of assists…” his eyes held a certain gleam to them whenever he talked about hockey, something you never saw even when he talked about you.
You swallowed the lump in your throat and smiled, “That’s amazing. Only one short of another hat trick.” Both of you let out a small laugh at the attempt of your joke. There was more silence, and you could tell you were about to hit your tipping point soon, no matter how many times you scolded yourself not to cry, but you spoke up.
“If you keep playing this well I might have to watch a game.”
The way his face lit up was different than anything you had seen before, even with what you saw just seconds ago when he was talking about hockey. There was a difference in the way the corners of his eyes crinkled, his eyebrows arched in an excited way, his smile showcased all of his teeth, and there was a different spark in his eyes.
“Yeah that’s––You should,” he cleared his throat, but still had a grin on his face, “If you watch you’ll have to let me know.”
“I’ll do that––”
“Barzal!”
Both of your attentions were pulled away by the shout of his name. And when you saw that the person who called out his name held up a ping pong ball, and Mat turned his head to look at you with a small smile––one similar to the night you first met, but a little less devilish––you knew that this was your tipping point.
While it would be fun to pretend like you barely knew Mat, partner up with him for beer pong, and relive the moment how your relationship first started…It was too much.
You smiled apologetically, clenching your jaw tight to keep your chin from wobbling, “My sister texted saying she needs a little motivational talk.”
He hid his disappointment well, but you saw that spark in his eyes fade away when he nodded his head in understanding. But he still held a small smile on his face for you, “You were always the best at those.”
“Mhm,” you hummed, not trusting yourself with words as memories of you motivating Mat before a game or cheering him up after a hard loss came flooding into your mind. You silently sniffled and picked your water up, “I’ll see you later, Mat.”
“Yeah…” he sounded like he was in a daydream, “See you later.”
You kept your eyes glued to the floor and texted Kennady asking if she could meet you out back, as you weaved through people. This time as you made your way through the crowd, you didn’t smile at anyone.
The first tear fell when you heard someone cheer Mat on by saying he should play basketball instead of hockey. The single tear slowly slid down your cheek as you heard his laughter echo around the house. The second tear fell as you replayed the similarities of the night you first met in your head compared to tonight. Everything almost lined up the same way, everything almost felt like that night.
Except this night…there were less smiles, more silences, and instead of your heart fluttering with butterflies because a boy you thought was cute talked to you at a party, you felt your heart drop down into your stomach like a broken elevator.
Your phone buzzed when your hand reached out to open the back door; Kennady saying she was making her way to you.
And the third tear fell when you turned your head to look back at Mat one last time.
You should’ve known he was already looking at you.
His eyebrows were pinched together in concern, head slightly tilted to the side, as he looked straight at you and mouthed “are you okay?” Sometimes you forgot that he knew you just as well as you knew him. And this moment made it clear to you that he didn’t believe the lie you told to get out of being his beer pong partner.
Your chin wobbled as you tried your best to smile––which you were sure looked more like a grimace––and you mouthed back, “I’m fine.”
You didn’t wait for him to either repeat his question or ditch the game to comfort you. And in a matter of seconds, you were out the door, the cold January air prickled your scorching hot skin, as you saw Kennady already waiting outside.
She looked up from her phone, and when she saw the deep frown on your face and silent tears falling down your cheeks, her shoulders dropped as she opened her arms. Hastily, you made a few long strides over to her and collapsed in her arms. She held you tightly as one hand trailed her finger tips up and down your spine to sooth your quiet cries.
“I––I still love him,” you hiccuped.
“I know.”
––––
January passed slowly as ever, and you didn’t see Mat for the rest of the month.
You tried to watch an Islanders game, but when the camera panned to Mat, and the announcers praised him for how amazing of a season he was having, you shut it off. You had a plan to watch the game, send him a text after, and then maybe it would lead into a conversation…but it was too soon for you. Even after over a year of not seeing him play, it was too soon.
So you tried again in the first week of February. It was an away game, and while Mat rarely ever showed it, you knew from previous experience that he was always more nervous playing those than a home game. And to hold yourself accountable to actually watch the game, you texted Mat a few hours before puck drop.
He never claimed to have any superstitions about looking at his phone before a game, but you knew he always kept it away to lessen distractions. So, after composing a few different variations of a message, you sent a small good luck tonight!! And then set your phone face down on the coffee table.
Your heart was beating more than it should have for just sending a simple text. You felt bile churning in your stomach as you buried your face into your clammy hands. It’s a text message, you scolded yourself, no need to overthink everything. But overthinking was what you did best.  
Maybe you shouldn’t have used two exclamation marks. Maybe you should’ve said your name in case he deleted your number. Maybe you shouldn’t have prematurely sent a text message, because what if you couldn’t make it through a whole game? What if your text messed up his pre-game ritual? What if he lied when he told you he wanted to know if you watched a game?
What if he changed his number and didn’t tell you?
But your phone vibrated against the coffee table, snapping you out from your inner-turmoil. And with a deep breath, you flipped it over and saw his contact name: Mathew Barzal.
And from his message, you knew that he knew it was you; Are you watching tonight?!
A small laugh escaped your lips as you sent back a simple, yeah!
Stop using exclamation marks, you scolded yourself.
But before you could overthink the one word you sent him, he responded instantly: Guess I’ll have to step up my game.
You bit your bottom lip to conceal your smile as you typed a message back to him. And for the next half hour, the two of you messaged back and forth about your days, Mat expressed his nervousness, you sent him a little motivational message, and then he said he had to go put his uniform on for warm ups.
There was still some time before puck drop, so you tried your best to busy yourself with tasks. You cleaned the kitchen, made a grocery list, and reorganized the books on your bookshelf. But no matter what you did, your thoughts circled back to Mat. And this time, you didn’t try to block them out, because you came to peace that he would always linger in the back of your mind.
He was there when you put away a mug––one that never rested evenly on a flat surface, due to a chip on the bottom, caused by Mat accidentally dropping it when hot water spilled over the top and burned his hand. There when you made the grocery list––because he would always leave it behind when you two would go to the store together. And there on your bookshelf––when you moved the hockey book he got you for your birthday.
His presence would always be tangled with yours, like a stubborn knot in a necklace that was impossible to disentangle.
You busied yourself by making tea, using the chipped mug, and turned on the game. The players were in their starting positions, and you saw Mat at the face off. Holding your breath, you said a little prayer, because you knew how nervous Mat got during a face off. He always said that he would turn the nerves into excitement to give him adrenaline, but you knew there was a tiny white lie in that.
But you watched the game, with your cup of tea to try and lessen the anxiety you felt, but it was of no use. While Mat was playing a fantastic game; you still cringed when he got smashed into the boards too rough, bounced your leg whenever he had the puck and an opposing defenseman came up on him, and shut one eye when he brought his stick back to shoot a goal.
Sixty minutes of hockey went by excruciatingly slow, but it was worth it, with the Islanders winning by two.
You shut the TV off, placed the mug on its side in the sink, and went to grab your phone off the charger. The game had not even ended fifteen minutes ago but there was a text from a Mathew Barzal on your screen.
With a deep breath, you unlocked your phone and read his message: Did the game meet your standards?
You let out a chuckle as you walked into your room while typing out your message; Nice goal.
The comment was going to inflate his ego, you could picture his wide smile and raised eyebrows in the locker room reading your message. And like how you messaged before the game, it lasted for quite some time; with Mat admitting he was more nervous with you watching, and you reassuring him he played an excellent game. When he finally had to shower, you wished him a safe ride home and he wished you a good night sleep.
While you still tossed and turned under your covers, you managed to get more sleep that night than you had in the last year.
–––
Two weeks later, Mat called you.
It was after a home game, one that the Islanders lost, and a game where Mat wracked up a few penalties. Like every hockey game of his you’d watched since you promised him that one night, he texted you not even fifteen minutes of being off the ice.
Can I call you?
You paced around in the living area of your apartment thinking of what to respond. You wanted to talk to him…You felt ready to talk to him, but there was still some hesitation. The two of you had branched out to texting each other even when there wasn’t a game scheduled, and he had yet to bring up wanting to talk about your relationship again. So part of you had an inkling he would try it over the phone if you agreed. But then there was the other part of you that knew he just wanted cheering up.
To have a little more time to psych yourself up for a phone call with him, you responded: Sure! But why don’t you shower and head home first.
He sent you––sounds good. I’ll call you––And you prepared yourself for Mat to take the fastest shower possible and to maybe break a few traffic laws to get back to his place.
The assumption you made turned out correct, because in just under an hour of Mat officially off the ice, there was an incoming call from a Mathew Barzal.
The phone vibrated in your hand a few times as you breathed in and out. But before his call went to your voicemail, you clicked accept, “Mat…” you started off slowly, “Hey.”
“Hi,” his voice was low as you heard his door shut. Neither one of you said anything, but you heard movements from his end. You heard him put his keys in the bowl by his front door, fling off his shoes, open another door––presumably his bedroom door––and heard the sound of blankets shifting. You imagined he was sitting on his bed, as he let out a deep sigh, “I played like shit.”
“No you didn’t,” your automatic instinct was to reassure him, “Everyone has their off days, it doesn’t mean that you’re a shit player.”
He groaned, and you heard a soft thump. You imagined he fell back on his mattress, staring up at the ceiling, “I just––Some of those calls they made on me––and how I tripped over my skates and ate shit with no one around me?” He let another deep sigh, “It was embarrassing.”
Thankfully, you had done your nighttime routine during the second period intermission. So while you listened to Mat list out all of the things he thought he had done wrong during the game, you slipped under the covers of your own bed.
“And then when I thought I scored a goal, but the puck hit the crossbar, and it came back to hit me in the face––”
“Mat, that’s an honest mistake––”
“But it was embarrassing!” He raised his voice out of irritation. And this time, you knew for a fact he wasn’t irritated with you…He was irritated at hockey, the one thing he loved most in the world. “I swear I could hear people laughing at me. And I just know that the media is going to write how I should be a better player because I was a first round draft pick and with how much money my contract is––”
“Mat,” his sentences were strung along, and you don’t think he took a single breath during his rant, so you cut him off, “You can’t always be a perfect player, but you were a first round pick for a reason. It might not have been the outcome you wanted, you played the best you could tonight.”
“But it wasn’t good enough.”
His negative self talk sounded eerily similar to the thoughts that swirled around your mind after the break up.
“How many other twenty-three year olds do you know that play professional hockey?”
“There’s Beau, Mitch Marner, Carter Hart, Matthew Tkachuk, Tyson––”
“Stop,” you harshly cut him off as you sat up in bed, taking a pillow and hugging it to your chest, “They don’t count because they’re like the one percent of people who make it to the NHL.” You tried to stress your point, “Like you, they’ve trained an insane amount to get where they are. But how many other people do that? And how many people do train for most of their life and still don’t get to play in the league you do?”
He was silent.
“The average twenty-three year old isn’t playing professional hockey,” you shut your eyes, because no matter how great of a hockey player you thought Mat was, he never had the same faith in himself, “The average person isn’t playing professional hockey. Mat, you’re an incredible player; honestly one of the best in the league right now. And it’s not just me saying that to make you feel better, just look at the Islanders stats from before and after you came along.”
Again, he stayed silent.
“You came into this league so young, but so talented. Sure, you still have things to learn, but you’re the best version of yourself you can be right now. And there’s still so much time for you to grow to be an even better player,” you let out a small breath, “It blows my mind how good you are. And some people might talk shit and say you played poorly, but if they were to be on the ice with you?”
You waited to see if he had anything to say, but when he stayed mute, you let out a soft chuckle, “If they––an average person––was on the ice with you they wouldn’t stand a chance.”
Mat let out a small laugh, and you imagined that he had one hand covering his eyes as he still laid on his back on top of his duvet, “Thank you.”
Unclenching the pillow you hugged closely to your chest, you slid down your headboard, and made yourself comfortable under the covers. You laid on your side, staring out your window at the same night sky he was under, and whispered, “I just wish you saw yourself the way I see you.”
You imagined he sat up, elbows resting on his knees as he pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and index finger, as his interest piqued, “And how’s that?”
“As someone who’s great at everything they do.”
It was silent on his end. But you expected that with how honest and instantaneous your answer came.
He cleared his throat, “Are you in bed?”
“Yeah,” you answered as you pulled the sheets up under your chin.
“I…” he let out a shaky breath, but whatever he wanted to say, he didn’t say it, “I still have to get ready for bed.”
“I won’t keep you.”
“We…” he started off slowly, and you imagined he stared at the wall in full concentration, and this time, he said half of whatever he wanted to say, “We should do this again.”
A small smile tugged the corners of your lips upward, “Talk?”
“Yeah, um, talk,” he let out a nervous laugh, and you imagined him rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, “On the phone…In person…”
You reciprocated his nervous laughter, but it wasn’t the bad kind of nerves you had felt in your stomach over the last year…this feeling reminded you of the excited nerves you had when you first met him, “You must really need more motivational talks,” you joked with him. But his answer, his honest and instantaneous answer, was not a joke.
“I feel like a better person around you.”
You were the silent one now.
“I’ll let you get to sleep,” his voice was soft and light, yet he sounded like he didn’t want to let you go, “Night, Y/N.”
“Goodnight, Mat.”
After he hung up, you imagined he slept with a smile on his face, just like you.
–––
February might be the shortest calendar month in the year, but it felt impossibly long.
Between late night phone calls with Mat after a game and texting whenever you had a free chance at work, your nerves never disappeared. They were a mix of an excited spark with a dash of anxiety that festered in the pit of your stomach, and only intensified when you saw his contact name pop up on your phone. Yet, the more you communicated with him, the more relaxed you felt. Laughter came more easily between you two, awkward pauses were few and far between, and you smiled more.
But part of you was still hesitant that he would leave unexpectedly like he did nearly a year and a half ago.
After phone calls and texts, March was the month you saw Mat in person for the first time since January. It was in a group setting, but it was planned with the intention of seeing each other. It was a group lunch––you sat next to him––and he occasionally knocked his knee against yours. He apologized every time, but you didn’t think his movements were an accident.
March had more group outings, more texts, and a lot more phone calls randomly throughout the day.
April was a little more different.
The spring air sent a chill down your spine as you walked toward the entrance of a sports bar with Kennady and a few other friends. It was another group outing, another pre-planned meeting where you would see Mat. Weaving your way through tables and standing patrons, you finally got to the high rise table your group was at. A mix of average twenty-something year-olds and hockey players; but Mat caught your eye first.
You saw him sitting on the barstool, hands wrapped around his beer glass as his index finger anxiously tapped the sweating glass. While he softly laughed along with friends who boisterously laughed, he didn’t look too enthralled with the conversation around him. But then he picked his head up and saw you.
A wide grin slowly spread across his face as he straightened out his slumped shoulders.
Everyone greeted each other with hugs, while you settled for waving. When people took their seats, coincidentally the only open seat was next to Mat. Easily, you slid in as he slid a drink in front of you.
“When you texted saying you were almost here, I ordered you a drink,” Mat whispered with a small smile, “I hope that’s alright.”
You picked up the glass with a tight lipped smile, “Yeah, of course, thank you,” you took a sip as he let out a nervous breath through his nose. You set the glass down on the table and angled your body in the chair to face him, “How was practice?”
“Got my ass handed to me,” he let out a breathy laugh, head hanging low as he shrugged his shoulders, “It was alright.”
While Mat had played excellent hockey since you started tuning in again, the past few games were rough. He kept missing easy plays, his shots went wide, he talked back to the referees more than usual, and had more penalties called on him. From your phone calls, you knew he felt uneasy––he admitted that to you––but whenever you pressed the topic further, he brushed it under the rug.
His avoidance of communicating his feelings gave you a sense of deja vu.
You picked a french fry off his plate, “You scored a nice goal last game though, surely Barry couldn’t have beaten you down that much.”
“I just need to get out of my head,” his eyes were far off, staring off into the distance over your shoulder. You wanted to press him further, wanted to know what was causing him distress in his head, but he changed the conversation. He completely changed his demeanor with a smile, as he swatted your hand away from his plate, “Stop stealing my fries.”
As a few fries dropped from your hand, you successfully managed to keep hold of a single fry. And with a proud smile, you popped it in your mouth, “You could’ve ordered me fries, but instead you bought me a drink.”
He gently laughed next to you as he inched toward the edge of his seat, his knees knocking against yours. “Sorry.” he lied with a smile he couldn’t contain.
You raised your eyebrows and purposefully knocked your knee against his in retaliation, “No you’re not.”
He picked up a fry and threw it at you.
The night continued as it had, conversing with friends, and also going back into your own little world with Mat. Throughout the evening, while he held steady conversation with people from across the table, he occasionally knocked his knee into yours. And when you bumped him back, a smile stretched across his face as he maintained eye contact with whoever he talked to.
Everything about the night felt easy until the first hiccup happened.
You and Mat were off in your own little world again, facing each other on your barstools, knees knocking against each other, as he talked about an article that reminded him of you.
“I have to send it to you,” he shook his head with laughter, as he scrolled through his phone, “Just by the title I knew I had to show you, but wanted to wait until I saw you in person to see your reaction.”
You felt your stomach flip at his admission. He wanted to see your reaction. And based on how giddy he looked as he searched for the article to text it to you, he thought your reaction would be similar to his. He wanted to see you smile.
Your phone vibrated on the table as it lit up with his contact name; Mathew Barzal.
When you opened your phone, you let out a laugh when you saw the article populate with an image. It was definitely an article you would enjoy, and when you brought your gaze back up to Mat, a smile wide on your face, you noticed his giddy look was gone. It was replaced with a more contemplative look with his eyes locked in on your phone screen.
Your smile slowly faded away as you knocked your knee against his, “What’s up?”
He left you unanswered as he kept his stare on your phone until the screen turned black. He picked his head up to look at you, a frown on his face, “You changed my contact name,” you sat frozen in your seat, “and took away the  picture.”
His words registered with you, but all you heard was ringing in your ears.
Because yes, you changed his contact name and removed the picture of him. His name went from just Mat, with a hockey stick emoji, to his full name after the breakup. And his contact picture, one Tito took of him in lounge wear in a hotel room at an away game on the phone––talking to you––with his head tipped back in laughter, was now just MB in a gray circle.
Did he still have your contact name and picture the same in his phone?
“I––”
“It’s no big deal,” he shrugged his shoulders and tried his best to smile. But the corners of his lips barely turned upward, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
You didn’t know how to respond to his observation, so you stared at him with your lips slightly parted and eyes wide. Mat tried to show another smile, but his lips just formed a straight line. You wanted to tell him you were sorry; that you had to change those details or else you would cry whenever you looked at your phone. But you didn’t know how to verbalize that without breaking down in front of him as the painful memories of stripping Mat away from your life replayed in your mind.
This was the longest silence you sat in with him since January.
Mat slowly shifted his knees away from yours and as you continued to stare at his side profile. He joined in on a conversation with Tito and someone else, but you had no idea what they were talking about. All you thought about were Mat's forehead creases, his glossy eyes full of despair, and the frown still present on his face.
Reluctantly, you turned away from him and found yourself listening in to a different conversation, but all you could pay attention to was Mat’s slumped posture in your peripheral vision.
An hour later, another round of drinks were bought, and everyone was still having a good time with lots of laughter and smiles present. Except your smile was forced and you couldn’t hear Mat’s laugh.
But then you felt someone knock their knee against yours.
You dropped your vision down and saw Mat’s knee an inch away from yours. Thinking that this time, he knocked his knee against yours on accident, you kept quiet. But then you saw him knock his knee against yours again, with his knee resting against yours for an extra few seconds, you looked up at him.
A small hopeful smile was on Mat’s face.
Mirroring his shy smile, you ducked your chin into your chest as you felt butterflies in your stomach.
You knocked your knee against his.
Both of your smiles brightened, and just when Mat opened his mouth to say something, someone clapped a hand on Mat’s shoulder. He looked surprised at the contact, but when you heard the TV behind your table report on the top hockey highlights of the week––with the announcer commenting on Mathew Barzal’s goal––the table erupted into obnoxious cheers. Mat’s face went beet red as he shied away from the praise his friends offered.
After the rowdiness at the table calmed down, you knocked your knee against Mat’s as he picked up his beer. He raised his eyes up to look at you, a small smile making its way onto his face as he took a sip of his drink. When he placed his glass back on the wooden table, he knocked his knee against yours.
“Why are you acting so shy,” you let out a small laugh, because in all of the time you’d known Mat, he craved the attention and praise that came with being a hockey player.
He shrugged his shoulders, tapping his fingers against the table, “The compliments get to be too much sometimes.”
You shut your eyes tight as you tilted your head back in laughter. And when you opened your eyes, Mat was looking at you with gentle eyes full of fondness, “Stop lying.”
There were still some small laughs coming from you, but when Mat took your statement literally, your laughter ceased.
“I like the compliments more when they come from you,” he said with a serious facial expression, “Your words mean the most to me.”
You looked into his eyes; ones that were full of regret as it looked like he was retracing the steps of how your relationship came to this point. How it went from two people who were so in love with each other, in the most idyllic relationship…to people who painfully avoided each other for nearly a year, people whose voices wavered with skepticism when they spoke to each other, and to people who still loved each other but didn’t know how to reconcile.
Sometimes you thought it would be easier not to know him, in turn that you could forget about the heartbreak he caused you. But that thought was always easily diminished; the love you felt when you were with him were the most joyous moments of your life that you wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.
Well…Maybe one thing.
If you could trade those early days of happiness to fall in love with him all over again––and not experience any heartbreak––you would do it in a heartbeat.  
Mat cleared his throat, “You don’t…” he offered you a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to let you know how I felt.”
With a nod of your head, you bit the inside of your cheek as you felt your throat tighten up. To alleviate some of the tension in the air, you took a sip of your drink. And when you tore your eyes away from Mat to look at the table, you saw that the table was empty, save for you and Mat.
You didn’t know the last time just the two of you sat at the same table alone.
“Where did everyone go?” You turned your head to face Mat with a tilt of your head.
He shrugged his shoulders, “I think they’re off getting more drinks.”
You chuckled and faked offense, “And they didn’t ask us what we wanted?”
Again, he shrugged his shoulders, as he turned his head over to look at the bar where everyone stood. When he turned back to look in your eyes, you could see the wheels turning behind his head as he thought.
“We could get our own drinks…” He said slowly, eyes shining full of hope as he leaned in toward you, “Somewhere else…” and the next word he added, voice dangerously low in a whisper, sent more shivers down your spine than the spring breeze, “Alone.”
It wasn’t the first time Mat took your breath away, and without thinking of any possible consequence, you nodded your head once, “Yeah.”
“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow at you, the signature grin on his face was contagious as you smiled back, nodding your head even more rapidly. He quickly looked over his shoulder to see where your friends were, and then when he turned back to you, he smirked, “I think we have less than thirty seconds before they come back.”
As if the two of you communicated telepathically, you jumped off the barstools at the same time and walked at a brisk pace toward the doors. Once the two of you were safely outside and at the street corner, both of you doubled over in laughter.
“Did we ditch our friends?” You looked up at Mat who clutched his stomach.
He nodded his head, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Instead of painfully remembering all the times the two of you would duck out early from a party to spend time together, you remembered them with a smile and a laugh.
Once your laughter subsided, you straightened your posture and slid your hands in to your jacket pockets, “Where to?”
“Hadn’t thought that far ahead yet,” he apologetically smiled, “There are some bars a few blocks down.” He suggested as he raised his wrist to look at his watch. His eyes widened slightly, “Shit, it’s late. We’ll either make it right before last call or miss it entirely.”
You stood in silence as you saw the wheels behind his head turning in thought again. It looked like he had come up with another place to walk to, but he looked uneasy as he suggested it, “There is…another place.”
Your curiosity sounded too hopeful, “Where?”
Mat looked down at his shoes, scuffing them against the pavement, before looking back up at you in uncertainty. He took a deep breath, “My apartment.”
Your eyes widened at his suggestion. 
His apartment.
The apartment where you had your last moments as a couple right before he broke up with you. Were you ready to go back? Did you want to go back? Because there was no doubt in your mind that going there would unlock more memories of when you were the happiest with Mat. But if you wanted to progress in anything––in a friendship––with Mat, you needed to get over the little fears you overdramatized in your head.
“We don’t have to,” Mat was quick to backtrack the offer of his apartment, “I know that’s where we––But I––I have drinks there. It’s not a far walk, and we won’t have to worry about getting into a place. But I understand if you don’t want to––”
“Let’s go,” you sucked in a deep breath and nodded your head the same time Mat’s eyes widened with shock, “It’ll be easier.”
“Are you sure?”
You took another deep breath and lied, “Positive.”
Mat didn’t look convinced, but he wasn't going to press you any further. So, with a nod of his head, he gestured toward the way of his apartment like you didn’t already know, “This way.”
The walk to his place wasn’t far at all, in fact, it was most likely closer than any of the bars you would definitely not make it to in time. So his apartment was a safe option as the two of you walked in silence. It wasn’t an awkward silence, but the two of you were replaying the last time you were both in his apartment.
Once you arrived at the building, Mat waved at the doorman––whose eyes brightened at you with recognition––as he hit the up button on the elevator. The ride up was just as silent as the walk to his place, and when you stood in front of the door to his place, your palms began to sweat.
Maybe this wasn’t the best idea.
But you stuck it through, and when Mat unlocked the door and let you in first, a wave of nostalgia hit you like a ton of bricks. Everything was the same, albeit a bit messier, but it felt almost like you were back in a home again.
“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone to come over,” Mat let out a nervous laugh as he walked past you and picked some of his belongings up that were strewn across the floor.
You waved him off, heading over to the living room area, and folded a blanket for him, “Don’t worry about it.”
You heard Mat let out an anxious deep breath as you watched him turn around and head into the kitchen. He seemed just as nervous as you. When he was out of sight, you set the unevenly folded blanket down on the ottoman and walked over to the couch. You sunk down and let out a shaky breath that you had been holding in since you walked through the front door.
You didn’t have much time to dwell in your thoughts, because you heard Mat’s footsteps, and sat up straight on the couch. He came around the other side of the couch with a beer bottle in one hand for him, and then a wine glass and a wine bottle, for you. He set his beer and wine glass down on the coffee table as he took a seat next to you.
“As your bartender for the night,” he sarcastically said as he took the wine opener and screwed it into the cork of the bottle, “I expect a very nice tip for bringing your drink to you.” You laughed at his comment to lighten the mood, but all you could focus on was the way his arms flexed when he twisted the corkscrew around a few times, “I even provided you with a whole bottle of wine just for yourself.”
You let out a small laugh, “Lucky me,” you whispered just as Mat looked up at you through his eyelashes.
He offered you a small smile, and then went back to concentrating on opening the wine. When the corkscrew was in the center of the cork, he pressed his hands down on the miniature levers, and the bottle opened with pop.
He looked up at you with a proud smile and eyebrows raised proudly, “Eh?” He asked you as he poured you a glass, “You should be impressed.”
You snorted, “That you opened a wine bottle?”
“Mhm,” Mat hummed as he handed you the glass. You offered him a smile as a thanks, as he grabbed his beer and rested an arm on the back of the couch, “And that I didn’t spill any of it.”
With a roll of your eyes, you took a sip of wine, as your mind pieced together that you were drinking your favorite type of wine. That led to a flurry of questions in your mind because why––after all this time––would he still keep your favorite bottle of wine at his place?
But Mat asked you about how your presentation at work went before you were able to bring it up.
Much like the time spent at the sports bar earlier, it was all laughter and smiles, except this time you weren’t under the scrutinizing gaze of Kennady or the hesitant glances of Tito. It was just you and Mat, alone in his apartment, as if no time had passed. With every twenty minutes that went by, it felt as if Mat would move a tiny bit closer to you. You didn’t mind at all, and when he was close enough, you knocked your knee against his.
It was well past midnight, and you were still enjoying yourself the same as you did when you first walked in. The bottle of wine was nearly empty; Mat joining in on the wine drinking after he finished his beer.
Everything about the time spent at Mat’s place felt easy until the second hiccup of the night happened.
Mat placed his empty wine glass down on the coffee table and let out a deep breath through his nose. His face looked serious; eyebrows pinched together that caused a crease to form between his eyes, mouth pressed in a straight line, with his eyes firmly concentrated on you. The look made your stomach uneasy, so you finished off the last of your wine, and sat it down next to Mat’s empty glass.
You let out an apprehensive laugh as you leaned your side into the back of the couch, just below where Mat’s hand rested, “What’s on your mind, hockey player?”
With his hand so close to your shoulder, he stretched out his fingers and lightly grazed your shoulder. He gently moved his fingertips along your shoulder blade a few times before he gulped, “Can I tell you something?”
“Of course,” you breathed out as a chill ran down your spine.
Both of your bodies were facing each other as he moved an inch closer to you. While his fingertips withdrew from your shoulder, he knocked his knee against yours. But instead of retracting it like he had done all night, he kept his knee against yours. With another deep breath through his nostrils, he inched closer to you again, his thigh pressing against yours.
You held your breath as you stared into his yearning eyes, and like he was telling you a secret, he whispered, “Sometimes you feel like a stranger.”
Your eyes widened, stunned at his confession. You were at a loss for words, but luckily you didn’t have to respond, because he expounded upon his admission.
“And it…It’s so frustrating,” his voice was low as he maintained eye contact with you; his soft eyes full of longing stared into your wide and timid eyes as his fingertips reached back down to touch your shoulders. But instead of just staying in one place, his fingertips trailed down to your collarbone, “I know how you relax after a stressful day,” his fingers slowly moved to the side of your neck as he let out a soft chuckle, “I know how you organize a closet.” HIs fingers moved painfully slow up your neck, “I know the facial expressions you make when you’re nervous…”
You clenched your jaw, as your breathing hitched, and you slightly tilted your head to the side to give his fingers more room to wander.
Mat traced his fingers along your jawline as he leaned his face closer to you, “I know what makes you happy,” you felt his breath fan against your face as his fingers caressed your cheek, “What pisses you off.” He kept his mouth in a straight line, jaw slightly clenched, as he moved his fingers to the back of your neck, cupping your cheek. He kept quiet, the only noise in the apartment that could be heard was your own heartbeat and Mat’s breathing.
Finally, he rested his forehead against yours as he slightly brushed the tip of his nose against yours. You kept your eyes wide open in anticipation, as Mat closed his eyes for a moment. He let out a shaky breath before slowly opening his eyes to look at you with an amount of adoration you’d never seen before, “How to love you.”
“We’re friends.”
“No we’re not,” his voice was strained with irritation. But this time, the irritation in his voice wasn’t directed at either you or hockey…his irritation was at himself, “All I want is to love you again but you’re so far away.” He let out a self-deprecating laugh and muttered, “You’re a stranger who I know better than anyone else.”
You brushed your nose against his, eyes glancing down at his lips, before looking back into his wistful eyes, “I’m right here.”
With your lips parted and breath shallow; the tone of your voice hinted at what you wanted to come next.
“If I were to kiss you,” Mat’s low voice murmured as he laid out his intentions, “Would you stay?”
“Yes.”
There was no wavering hesitation in your voice, only desire for the person in front of you who you’d spent too much time without. But Mat…Mat blinked a few times as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, staring at you as if he didn’t believe this was real life. The pull you felt toward him was stronger than any pull you felt toward anyone else. There was something in him that made him irresistible, he felt it in you as well, and he couldn’t wait any longer.
Eyes closed, Mat pressed his lips against yours, desperate but chaste as you tasted the wine off him, both of you holding yourselves back for each other's sake. He rubbed his lips against yours, urging you to tip your head back. You leaned into his direction as your fingers carefully crept toward his stomach, clutching his shirt into a small fist.
The tip of his tongue peeked out in a quick stripe across your lower lip, and a strangled whimper in the back of your throat involuntarily left your lips. With his nose against your cheek, he took his hand that cupped your cheek, and ran it down your back. His palm and the tips of his fingers gliding across the expanse of your back; feeling every ridge of your spine, every bone, every dip, and every curve.
Ever so slowly, his hand trailed up your back, over your neck, as he cupped your cheek again. He deepened the kiss, tongues meeting with soft strokes, mouths hot with anticipation and need.
You had kissed Mat more times than you could count, but both of your movements were timid. While he had a hand on your cheek, his other hand laid stiff on the couch. And while your hands gripped his shirt, they weren’t physically touching him. There were so many thoughts circling your mind; how you never thought you’d be in this position again with Mat––having him want you again.
That’s when the first tear fell.
It had officially been a year and a half since your break up with Mat. A year and a half since you felt any sort of honest affection from a person. And it had only been about three months since you started to openly communicate with him again. It had taken you longer to watch a hockey game than it took for you to speak to him regularly again; longer to gain the courage to watch him skate in circles with a smile on his face because you knew he was happiest on the ice.
Happier there than he could ever be with you.
You broke away from his kiss with a sniffle.
Mat delicately pecked your lips one last time before pulling away. Your eyes were still shut tight, but you felt his burning stare on your face as his thumb wiped away the single tear from your cheek.
The second tear fell when he repeated the sentence that you didn’t know held any truth.
“You know I’d do anything for you.”
As if you were transported in time, you smelled the April air of two years ago seeping through the open car windows as Mat whispered that promise to you as he kissed your hand. But the other memory…The cruel and poignant memory that overshadowed the good memory of that sentence took over. Instead of the sweet April air, your mind fast forwarded to the month of December where the air was frigid and eliminated your relationship.
You sucked in another deep breath as you opened your eyes to get you out of the headspace of that bitter December day. Mat’s eyes were desperate––silently begging you not to go––as if he knew you were planning an escape.
“I can’t do this,” you dropped your hands from his shirt and moved away from him on the couch.
“Will you ever be ready to do this?” Mat’s voice shook, but he was withstanding from surrendering. You could now see the athlete in him––the dedication he used to train to attain all of his goals––coming out as he fought to mend your relationship, “I want to talk.”
Your hands shook just as bad as your voice, “I can’t.”
For the countless time tonight, Mat let out an irritated breath through his nostrils, “When will you be ready?”
“I don’t know.”
Mat leaned his head against the back of the couch as he rubbed his temples, “Don’t you miss this?” He turned his head to look at you, his bloodshot eyes noticeable in the dim lighting of his living room, “Don’t you miss us?”
“You broke up with me,” you reminded him as you flared your nostrils in annoyance, “You gave up on us.”
“I was confused!” Mat sat up and angled his body toward you as he threw his hands in the air, “I wanted to be with you––Still want to be with you––But something was off and I had to––”
The deja vu of Mat listing off reasons why something in the relationship wasn’t right––and how his judgement convinced himself that getting away from you would solve everything––caused bile to churn in your stomach.
You placed both hands on the cushions as you pushed yourself up, “I’m not doing this again.”
With your back to him, you itched the bridge of your nose as you sniffled away your runny nose. But even with your back to him, you could still hear the desperation and utter heartache behind his wavering voice.
“You told me I would end up alone and unloved,” you heard him inhale a shaky breath, all the confidence from his previous tone of voice gone, as he choked out his next words, “The one person who I love most in the world told me that––The person who I thought loved me––”
“I do––”
“Told me I would be unloved? That not even you could love me again if I didn’t put more effort into the right things?” You spun around on your heel to see a silent path of tears easily falling down his face, “Do you know how much that messed me up?”
“You told me I wasn’t enough,” you counteracted with just as desperate of a voice, “You told me––”
“We just didn’t see each other enough,” Mat’s words continued to cut you like a knife, “But I never said you would end up alone and––”
“Because I don’t want anyone else to love you!” your devastated tone matched his raised voice. His mouth slowly dropped open, “I loved you so much and you tore me apart.” You felt your throat tighten up, but you held back your tears as your voice cracked, “I wanted to be the last person to love you.”
Mat sat in silence on the couch as you stood a few feet away from him. Silences were never common in your relationship, but they were definitely more common now. Coming to terms in your head that he wasn’t going to say anything, you were about to turn around and make your way out of his apartment for the final time.
“Stay,” Mat stood up from the couch. His hand barely raised from his side, as if he wanted to reach out to keep you from leaving him, but his arm stayed stiff at his side, “It’s after two in the morning, I’ll take the couch and you can sleep in my bed.”
“I’m not far from here,” you crossed your arms over your chest, “I can get an Uber.”
“Then I’ll take the Uber with you to your place.”
You let out a deep breath at his persistence, “That’s unnecessary––”
“Believe it or not,” Mat started his sentence out strong, but he took a pause and let his shoulders deflate as his tone softened, “I still really care for you and don’t want you in an Uber alone this late or walking up to your place alone. So please,” you hated the way your heart melted at his words, “Stay.”
You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as you thought about his proposal. He had a point…Ubers alone at night in New York wasn’t the most ideal situation in the world. And you knew he would hop in the car with you; he always held your safety high on his priority list.
With a defeated sigh, you nodded your head, “Okay.”
Mat let out a relieved breath, “You can…You know where everything is,” Mat awkwardly rubbed a hand behind his neck, “Everything’s the same.”
Except us, you thought to yourself.
You asked Mat if he had to get anything from his room, but he said he had some stuff stored in the spare bedroom where he would get ready for bed. And for what may be the last time, you wished each other goodnight as the two of you walked to separate ends of his apartment.
You blocked out every memory that swirled around your head as you entered his room and got ready for bed. Everything was going fine until you opened the cabinet under the sink and saw that he still had an unopened bottle of your shampoo that you always kept at his place. But you were done crying. Done crying over Mat. So you closed the cabinet, regretfully changed into one of Mat’s oversized t-shirts for pajamas, and slid under his covers.
With the sheets pulled up right under your chin, you laid on your side in a fetal position, as you stared out his window. There weren’t any stars in the sky, but instead of being in your bed and thinking about what Mat was up to when you couldn’t sleep, all you had to do was walk down the hall.
You tried everything you could to fall asleep, but none of the methods you usually used worked. Even when you stayed in separate bedrooms when Mat met your family for the first time, similarly down the hall from each other, you didn’t have any trouble sleeping like tonight. But back then, you and Mat were together in love. And this time…you and Mat were somehow still in love, but further apart than ever.
Fed up with not being able to get a decent night’s sleep in over a year, you flung the covers off and stepped out of bed, because you knew the cure to your insomnia was just a few feet away. Slowly, you opened the bedroom door and snuck out. You quietly closed the door and made your way to the living area where Mat said he was.
And in a few seconds you saw Mat, whose face was illuminated by his phone from above head as he scrolled. The single blanket he had only came up about halfway to his bare stomach.
As if he sensed another presence in the room, he turned his head. With an empathetic smile, because you imagined he had the same trouble falling asleep in this past year as well, he shut his phone off and placed it on the coffee table. Without a word, he lifted the blanket up, inviting you to sleep next to him.
You crawled in next to him, the side of your face pressed up against the crook of his neck. You let out a silent, uneven, breath as you felt his warmth spread across your body. And when he lowered the blanket, he curled a tight arm around waist, drawing shapes on your back as he held you close to him.
And the third tear fell when Mat pressed a firm kiss to your forehead and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
A year and a half of sobbing didn’t compare to the flood gates that opened up in this moment. Your senses were in overdrive, everything screamed Mat, and that one little forehead kiss paired with a simple apology tipped you over the edge. He held you tight as you cried into his chest, taking responsibility for the suffering he had put you through the past year and a half.
One of your arms was tucked under you, but your other arm was stretched across Mat’s chest as you clung to his bicep. Your shoulders violently shook as you muttered incoherent words out through choppy breaths.
You hurt me, you said. I know, he answered.
I never wanted to see you again, you said. I know, he answered.
I missed you so much, you said. I know, he answered.
I still love you, you said. And as your cries began to soften, he cradled you into his chest more as he pressed another gentle kiss to your forehead; I still love you too, he answered.
It was the first night both of you slept soundly through the night, missing all of your alarms.
–––
New York in August was unbearably hot.
Between the larger than life gray skyscrapers and dark concrete that paved the city, the heat of the sun always got trapped in the most unpleasant way. With crowded sidewalks of people pressed shoulder to shoulder, the heat attached itself to sweaty bodies. With sewers that always smelled, but reeked even worse in the summer, the heat attached itself to the polluted water.
But if you paid close enough attention, there was a certain aroma in the air that always drew people into the city. And like how the skyscrapers and concrete trapped the heat in the most unpleasant way, the sweet smell of new beginnings that New York offered trapped people in the same way.
Walking down the sidewalk, with your fingers intertwined with Mat’s, you breathed in the captivating smell of New York.
The smell of new beginnings.
“Are you nervous or is the heat getting to you,” You looked up at Mat’s side profile with a smile as you pointed out his sweaty hand.
With black sunglasses covering his eyes, he kept his head forward as he chewed on his bottom lip, “It’s your family.”
You rolled your eyes as you came to the end of the sidewalk, waiting at the corner for the light to change, “You know them already.”
“Yeah, but––”
His words were cut off when the light changed and a mass amount of people crossed the street. You tugged him along with the crowd, “No buts,” you squeezed his hand, “They still love you.”
Mat shrugged his shoulders.
He knew the pain he caused when he broke up with you. And he knew that your mom, dad, and sister all witnessed the aftermath of what he put you through. There was part of him that would never forgive himself for acting so immature, and he was still working through his insecurities. But after that night of confrontation where you slept peacefully in his arms, he promised to always be upfront with his feelings.
You had been officially back together for four months, and made changes from the first time you were in a relationship, but Mat’s nerves surrounding your family were still present.
Your sister was the first to find out that you and Mat were back together. You hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell her before she figured it out not even a month into your rekindled relationship. She called you out of the blue, and before you could greet her, she went straight to the point; Are you back together with Mat? You were a stuttering mess, not prepared to tell your family; You liked Tito’s most recent Instagram picture, your username came up next to the heart, and I know you unfollowed him after you weren’t with Mat.
Her sleuthing wasn’t that impressive, but you couldn’t lie to your sister. She warned you that a few more jokes would come at his expense to turn him red.
You told your mom in June. You had let it casually slip that you were going out with Mat for the day, and she was silent on the other end for a few moments. Like any mother who held their child as they openly sobbed after the end of a relationship, she was skeptical. But you reassured her that changes were made, and continue to be made, so it wouldn't end like the last time…So your relationship wouldn’t end at all.
She said as long as you were happy, she was happy.
You also told your dad in June, a week after you told your mom, because you knew she wouldn’t be able to hold onto that secret for long. It took a bit more planning and practicing on your end to tell him. You saw the way his jaw clenched and eyes full of hurt whenever he saw you cry. And when you told him, he sounded stiff, and reminded you that you were too good for him. But like your mom, you reassured him that things had changed; Mat had changed.
He reminded you that he never liked Mat that much to begin with.
When you and Mat reached the restaurant you were set to meet your family at, Mat opened the door for you. A breeze of air conditioning and the smell of clean air brought you out of your thoughts.
"Your dad’s already glaring at me and we’re not at the table yet.”
You let out a laugh and rested your forehead against Mat’s bicep briefly as you looked up at him with a smile, “Don’t worry, I talked to him plenty before this and told him to be on his best behavior.”
Mat took his sunglasses off, and as he stared down at you, you finally caught a look at his hazel eyes that shined bright with admiration for you, “Surprisingly, that doesn’t make me feel better.”
You dropped his hand and elbowed him at his sarcastic comment.
“Finally, you’re here,” your sister was the first one up from her seat to greet you with a hug.
You hugged her back tightly, “We’re on time, you guys got here early.”
She held you at arms length away and gave you a knowing look saying that of course they were going to show up early. It was the re-meeting the boyfriend lunch. She slightly gazed over your shoulder at Mat, who was politely talking with your mom, and you rolled your eyes silently telling her he was more nervous than the first time. She deviously smirked.
With a stiff handshake and a curt, Mathew, from your dad, you knew Mat felt as if he was drowning.
Appetizers and a bottle of wine were ordered for the table before you and Mat were present, so they arrived shortly after the two of you were seated next to each other. Like the first time Mat was around your family, he sat with perfect posture as he rapidly tapped his index finger against his thigh.
You discreetly scooted your chair closer to his.
Mat had just finished his first glass of water when your mom brought up hockey, “How did this season go, Mat?”
“It went well,” he answered as he took the water pitcher from the center of the table and poured himself another glass, “There were a few times we went up and down in ranking, but all in all, it was a strong season.”
“I watched a few highlights,” your dad said after he finished swallowing an appetizer, “You played well, especially towards the end of the season.”
Mat shyly smiled, his eyes glancing at you, because toward the end of the season was when you started communicating more, “Yeah, the end of the season was the best.”
You knocked your knee against Mat’s.
“And almost made it to the Cup again,” your dad shook his head with a light smile, “How’s the team looking this season?”
Mat took a sip of water, “We’re looking good. A few changes to the roster, but all for the best.” He fiddled with the white cloth napkin on his lap, “If you guys––I don’t know the next time you’re in town, but just let me know if you want to go to a game.” Mat smiled at your dad, and then turned to your mom, “I know my family wants to come down for a game.”
Your mom’s eyes lit up, “Oh, that would be wonderful!”
“Thanks, Mat,” your dad easily smiled, “I appreciate that.”
Mat shrugged his shoulders, a smile slowly growing on his face as your dad called him by his nickname, “I know how much you all like hockey, might as well use me for what I’m good for.”
Your parents laughed at his comment right as the waiter came up to take everyone’s order for their main course. You, Mat, and your sister had ordered, so your parents weren’t paying attention to your little trio.
“So, Mat,” your sister stretched out the lone vowel in his name, “Looks like you won the girl back before your franchise could win the Stanley Cup.”
Your eyes widened at her bluntness. It was always hard for a team to be so close to clinching that championship title––and well deserved praise as they lifted the Cup above their heads––only for it to be ripped away from them. And for the Islanders to be in that position another year, losing in the final round, it only aided in more salt to the wound.  
Mat’s face still turned red at her unapologetic comment, but he recovered quickly, and wasn’t nearly as blindsided by her words like he was the first time. Instead, Mat offered your sister an easy smile, as he quickly made eye contact with you. His smile widened, “I think I won something better.”
Mat knocked his knee against yours.
373 notes · View notes
love-amihan · 3 years
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*I wanted to press the ask button but it made me unfollow you sorry ;A;*
oooo, for your 400/500 followers event (which, btw, congrats 🥳 ), could I request Suga (ofc hehe) forgetting s/o’s birthday but with a fluff and cute ending pls?
it's okay bae, i do that sometimes too 😭😭 ahhh thank u!! <33 since u don't have any specific date in mind, i kinda went wild and hope that'll you'll like it 🤧🤧🤧 here u go <33
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NOW PLAYING...
hey stupid, i love you by jp saxe
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koushi feels his heart dropping to his stomach after realizing what date it is today. it's given that he can be forgetful sometimes but he cannot believe how he forgot your special day. he takes a few labored breaths, looking at your cheerful and glowing appearance, 'calm down, you got this. panic won't do anything,' he encourages himself.
"where will we go, hon?" you ask while hugging his arm, koushi looks back at you, his usual smile present on his lips, panic nowhere to be seen. for someone who's screaming on the inside, he's strangely composed and calm on the outside. "that's a surprise," he brings a finger up to tap the tip of your nose as you scrunch them up cutely.
you hum, your steps having a lil skip in them. overall happy with just the presence of the boy next to you, his presence that's enough to make your day, contented with affection and attention more than material things.
'you got this, nothing better to start of than a bouquet of flowers' he thought to himself, nodding in agreement, he leads the two of you where the nearest flower shop is.
you look back at him then at the shop, "well you gotta pick, baby" he chuckles and gestures at the flowers. you feel the familiar warmth spreading inside you, it's always the simple things he does that makes you feel full and complete. after getting your bouquet of flowers, he takes you to a rental bike, "kou.. you know i ca-" he shakes his head and gets on the bike.
fixing his long coat, he looks over his shoulder and pats the seat behind him, "hop on, what do i always tell you?" you look back at him with skeptic eyes, "...you got me and you're always there to catch me when i fall." he smiles and pats the seat once again, "exactly," you purse your lips before giving in, "fine."
before ending the simple but intimate date, koushi carefully lays his coat down on the sand and dust off some that manages to get on top. the two of you stares off in a distance, the calm ocean waves making you both feel at serene. you lean on his shoulder, holding the flowers closer to you.
he's the first to break the silence, "i'm sorry," he mumbles while playing with your fingers, "for what?" your voice coming out a whisper, "i forgot it's your birthday today..." he takes a deep breath, "'m such a bad boyfriend."
you shake your head to this, "you are and will never be a bad boyfriend," you say while looking up at him as he keeps staring ahead. "so what if you forgot? it's just like any other day, nothing special. just me getting a year older really," you lightheartedly joke, however koushi's lips turns to a pout, "but it's the day you're born."
you lean up to kiss the underside of his jaw and hum, nestling impossibly closer to him as he wraps his arm around you. "it's nothing... i'm serious, don't you dare blame yourself," you say while squeezing his hand for assurance, "i forgive you," you bring up the hand you're holding and kiss the back of it, his lips slowly turning up to a smile.
finally looking back at you, he imitates your gesture, his lips lingering on the back of your hand, "thank you for always doing so, i love you" he mumbles against your hand, "love you.. always" you reply as he leaves a kiss on your forehead also.
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mini-event masterlist
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copyright © 2021 by love-amihan all rights reserved. do not repost in other platforms. reblogs are welcome and highly appreciated! <33
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anislandfullofmuses · 2 years
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Sem-Hiatus (30/12/2022) This is a low activity blog *Hello* everyone, my name is Sandra, you can call me Sandy or by my full name, as you wish, I’m 33 and I’ve Rplaying on tumblr since 2012, took a break around 2016 as my real life got in the way, and I’ve been back since late 2020. 
I like to think of myself as a friendly person, I’m always willing to chat, this blog used to be a part of a group I started years ago with the help of a RP buddy, so I’m going to keep the old posts and I count them for Lucien’s back story. 
My ask is always open, I’m willing to do cross-overs and fandomless threads for my muses, I’m more than willing to write with ocs, everyone is welcomed! never be afraid to poke me of you wanna write, also if we’ve been interacting for a while feel free to ask for my discord!
Muses
Muses only played upon request
Open Starters
Wanted connections
Rules under the cut! 
Frist of all, I’m a very opened person so never be scared to ask me for plots, even if you think they don’t fit, I’m sure we’ll be able to come up with something.
I’m of age and so are all my characters but I will not write smut. If our characters are in a relatioship, I’m okay with the leading up to, but there’s a point I’m going to ask you to fade to black, please respect that, I do not like to write full on sexual scenes do not push me into this. Goes without saying, if you're a minor then, I'm sorry but as 33 year old person, I'd rather not write with you.
Unless its needed to fit the RP scenario, a crossover or a fandomless verse so our muses can intereact, this will mainly be a single verse blog. Most of my muses are human, but I can and am willing to do supernatural verses.
If you have any questions, want to chat, want to plot ALWAYS feel free to reach out.
Replies will be slow, I am adult with a job and other hobbies and blogs, so sometimes its going to be hard to catch up, feel free to poke me if I’ve gone too long without replying.
I am willing to do Discord RP, but I need to have interacted with you, at least ooc a couple of times to feel comfortable doing so
It goes without saying : NO FORCE SHIPPING!!!!
English is not my main language, please understand and excuse me if I make any mistakes, as much as I put in the efford sometimes it happens.
My opens are mutuals and non-mutual unless stated otherwise. And always opened to be picked up at any time.
As for following, I’m not that selective, usually I always follow back, however if I don’t, please don’t take it personaly, it’s either me not wanting to approach certain plots, or wanting to take myself away from certain things for my own sake. If I follow you and than unfollow after a while, it simply means we probaly never interacted and I want to keep my dash clean, which leads me to the next point, I will unfollow if you don't cut post and I have to scroll trough a lot, I'm sorry, its nothing personal, but its a bit annoying to me. However this doesn't mean I won't write with you.
Regarding Fcs, as long as you're not using someone under 18, someone who asked not to be used, or has done some really bad things then its fine. You should be able to pick whoever you want, and I don't chery pick fcs, I care about your character not the FC you use for them. If you have low resources or none at all, its not really my place to not write you over that, I'm okay with not using GIFs, icons etc. In the end we're here to write, right? 😁❤️
I also ask of you not chery pick my fcs either. I understand if you're a fan of someone I'm using, and of course I will write that character with you, but please look at the character not their face. I've had some bad experiences with this, which is probably why I like to stick with mostly underused fcs for my characters.
I’ll do my best to TW anything I see that can cause triggers to other, but if you see anything in my content that I’ve forgeten to, pease feel free to tell me.
I like ships as much as everyone, but I don’t usually plan ships, unless with my closest RP friends, I usually go with chemistry. 
Goes without saying I do not tolarate any kind of drama, I’m only here to write and have fun, so please be respectful! 
That is all, thank you so much for reading all this, the rules as mainly for you to know what I’m opened to, so there’s no confusion on any of the parts, have a good day and happy writting!!
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mysimsloveaffair · 3 years
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Check In Tag ✔️
I was tagged by @mellindi. Thanks so much! 
Why did you choose your url?
I’m a sim gameplay/storyteller so that’s pretty obvious. 🥰
Any side blogs? If you have them name them and why you have them.
My entire simblr started out as a side blog, but I eventually moved everything over to a main blog and deleted those old posts. I still have the side blog, it is simsloveaffairreblogs. I use my side blog to reblog posts from all over the simblr community (sims 1, 2, 3 and 4). 
Why don’t I reblog to my main? Because I post a lot of original content (up to 20 or so posts a week) and I reblog a lot. Combining my original posts and my reblogs would be a nightmare for my mutuals who come once a week (or 2 weeks) trying to play catch up. I try to make my simblr as reader friendly as possible, but I hope those who follow my main will also follow my side blog because I put love into both of them. 
How long have you been on tumblr?
10 years
Do you have a queue tag?
Almost everything I post is queued, so I don’t feel the need to use a special tag.
Why did you start your blog in the first place?
I really enjoy coming up with stories for my sims. I was running a natural hair tumblr and stumbled across a simblr for the first time. I was excited to finally have a place to share my sim stories. 
Why did you choose your icon/pfp?
It’s my simself. I use it on my WordPress blog and where ever I post sim stuff. 
Why did you choose your header?
My header will always be the heir of whatever generation I’m playing.
What’s your post with the most notes?
I get a lot more notes on my builds, so whatever it is - I’m sure it’s a build. 
How many mutuals do you have?
I have enough that I’m having a hard time keeping up with everyone’s posts. I feel bad about that, because I don’t want anyone to think that I’m no longer interested in their posts. 😭 (Darn you xkit for not updating the Blog Tracker extension. Any one know of any alternatives?).
How many followers do you have?
About what you’d expect after being around for 10 years, but I’m sure most are inactive or porn bots. 
How many people do you follow?
Less than above, but only because I can actually unfollow inactive blogs (although there are some I will NEVER unfollow). 
Have you ever made a shitpost?
Not really, unless someone out there considers everything I do a shitpost 🤣
How often do you use tumblr each day?
I check my activity page several times a day so I can check replies and know what I need to respond to when I have the time. 
Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?
No, and I can’t imagine doing so. 
How do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?
I hate them. I don’t like when people try to guilt trip others. I ignore them and keep doing what I do.
Do you like tag games?
I enjoy them, because they usually offer a good challenge. 
Do you like ask games?
Not as much as tag games because I don’t really get that many asks. But I appreciate those who do send asks that much more 🥰
Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?
Not sure, but there are some that I really admire for their creativity. 
Do you have a crush on a mutual?
I may have a serious crush on some people’s sims and storytelling skills. I’ll never say who because I don’t want anyone to feel left out. Oh...and I definitely have crushes on those who take the time to reply, reblog and/or play “catch-up” on my posts. I see you and I appreciate you all so much! 🥰
Let’s see...I’ll tag some the first few people on dash so I can get to know some new people. Feel free to ignore! @moocha-muses |  @nikatyler |  @igglemouse |  @penig  and @simdaisies
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alcxandros · 3 years
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20, 21,22 for be honest meme~
Have you ever felt pressured to write something you weren’t comfortable with?
Absolutely have. And I was slow to catch on exactly what was happening that basically, an antagonist that I was writing in a mobile game called Mystic Messenger was being used among the fandom and my peers as basically a fetish play. That’s probably one of the more disgusting examples I can think of off the top of my head and when it finally clicked that was what was going on ( because these people would have triggers against what they were trying to corner me into roleplaying ) - it didn’t ruin the character for me, but it woke me up to people can be really deceptive ~ and I would end up leaving because I wasn’t playing that game anymore and owe and behold, suddenly people weren’t interested anymore.
Write what you want; I honestly don’t care. But I do not write villains and antagonists personally for fetish, romanization and sexualization. If I’m writing a villain, I want to make people feel ( consensually ) uncomfortable - such as when you go to watch a horror movie, you watch it to be scared, disturbed, and thirlled, and what have you. Usually not to get  your rocks off. I’ve since put up firmer boundaries and step away if you start smelling like bullshit. 
Have you ever followed someone because you felt like you had to, not because you wanted to?
Hmmm, yeah, I’d say I have been guilty of this, as silly as it is. No one should follow anyone they don’t want to. I can’t say I can think of examples of where this has come up though - just that I know it’s happened. Usually this results in me unfollowing or black-listing their URL and forgetting they’re there. 
What would make you block someone?
The number one thing is comparing real life trauma as being ‘just as bad’ as fiction. Full stop, fuck off, no it’s not. This tends to be a dramatic trigger for me to the point I am actually legitmently worried of being sent to the hospital on account of how badly my heart starts acting up and my body starts shaking. I’m sure these people have the best of intentions, but I also find they don’t actually listen to survivors who’s narratives don’t fit their own. If you’re a danger to my health, mental or physical, you have to go.
Content policing. No one owes a reason why they want to write something and it isn’t your blog to determine if someone should or shouldn’t. You’re allowed to not like something, even hate it; trying to act like an authoritarian over freedom of expression isn’t it. Also purity culture is extremely gross and cult like and eeh - keep it over there. I honestly feel bad for people in those circles. 
Public humiliation. I don’t see it often anymore ( I’m sure it’s still a thing ), but Tumblr used to be really bad about someone making a mistake, and pulling them on full blast for their dashboard to humiliate and ridicule and harass. As someone with a processing disorder, this is nightmare fuel because I do not retain memory very well and I probably will make mistakes. I just see it as needlessly cruel and bullying. And yeah, fuck being a bully. If you can’t talk to someone like a human being, don’t talk to them at all - block and bedone. 
Sometimes I may block people who’ve unfollowed / soft blocked me, not out of ill will but just so I don’t end up refollowing them at a later time and potentially making them uncomfortable. 
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Tagged by @shinkimiope thank u <333
1. Why did you choose your url?
I've had it since my deviantart days. I was getting frustrated that all of my ideas for usernames were already taken (I was starting to think the site was bugged lol) so in a fit of anger I typed it just because. It ended up not being taken so I just used it lol
2. Any side blogs?
I have an art sideblog @slavhew because i didn't want to terminally bore people with posting tons of memes in between art
an old gravity falls sideblog I don't use, it's more like an archive now.
Two defunct really old blogs that I should delete but don't want to
A hidden side for "riskier" reblogs which means anything I deem too edgy or explicit for my main lol
3. How long have you been on tumblr?
Joined at the tail end of 2015 to enjoy the Undertale fandom at the time
4. Do you have a queue tag?
I do, it's #q
5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?
I wanted to have fun online again and my old accounts were full of bad memories. I also wanted to have a more direct source for fan content other than just reposts
6. Why did you choose your icon?
I drew it on my phone as a meme for a friend and ended up having it for too long to change it lol. Pyke says you're (I'm) a heretic.
7. Why did you choose your header?
I like fires I thought it was pretty
8. What’s your post with the most notes?
It's probably the meme I made making fun of my instrument when I was frustrated that it couldn't play low tones jdjfmdmf. It's got a thousand-somethign notes now
9. How many mutuals do you have?
Uuu I really don't keep track. Mostly cause I've had everyone around for a long time and we more often than not passively follow eachother djjcjdx
10. How many followers do you have?
661
11. How many people do you follow?
1215
12. Have you ever made a shitpost?
Many times but rarely takes off. My art shitpost on side are a bit more popular jsbfjdf.
13. How much do you use tumblr every day?
My usage rises proportionally to how much I'm procrastinating and how shit i feel. Its a good distraction and to mitigate that I usually put stuff into queue so people don't get a barrage of posts otherwise I'd consistently be hitting post limit
14. Did you have a fight/ argument with other blog once? Who won?
Every so often I feel like causing problems on purpose. Most arguments dont really have a conclusion. One radfem insisting women can't be evil that deactivated by the end of it, someone trying to mobilize the aro community to stop "problematic content" (it was peppered with 'save the children' and stupid arguments. They said "free blocklist in notes" then hid my reply from them because I called them out on their homophobic myopic arguments). Misc other stuff thru the years. C'est la vie.
15. How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?
We are all tired. We all have actual lives and use social media as an escape. If I catch you reblogging more than one of those I'm straight up going to unfollow, I will not have a wall of text guilt tripping me when I can't do anything to help in the first place. Fuck you.
16. Do you like tag games?
I do but I'm forgetful sometimes and it gets buried in my drafts :[
17. Do you like ask games?
I do but due to the nature of my blog even when I reblog them I don't really get any bdbgnnd
18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?
I know for a fact that at least one of them is Tumblr famous in two fandom circles. It's still kinda funny that they follow me on not one but two blogs even after we don't really share those fandoms and I enjoy seeing them on my dash :)
19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?
I don't do crushes but I am very good friends with a few people outside of Tumblr too and I think it shows from how often I tag them ajndkxmckc.
20. Tags?
@lemonykleonella @its-me-ej @mingominnie @mediasploshion @shroomberton and whoever sees it and wants to feel free to say I tagged you, nobody will know >:)
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bellafarella · 3 years
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Soooo I very obviously don’t know the whole situation with Noel but I read some of your asks and I saw people saying that they wished he would have made a more public statement regarding the “situation” to like apologize (???? Hopefully I’m not confusing you bc I very honestly am still trying to catch up myself lol) And I don’t like to make excuses for anyone but we all know he’s not active on social media unless he’s promoting his jobs and also I think that his age plays a factor in why he didn’t feel the need to make a big to-do or announcement. I doubt he’s following any young influencers who make notes app apologies 24/7 just to settle down their scandals, SOOO I honestly think that him unfollowing the cop was his way of righting his wrongs. I don’t think it even occurred to him that “hey the teens who follow me want me to write an explanation and apology”. I can say for myself that not even I know who I’m following half the time and once I see something on my feed that’s the only way I’m really aware of who I’ve chosen to follow. This year a lot of ppls true colors have been shown based on their political opinions and even their stances on blm and as a black female I took it among myself to unfollow ppl who did not support me and who were overall just not people I want to associate myself with. BUT GOING BACK ON TOPIC (sorry for the rant) with social media we only see what ppl WANT us to see so you’re following wtv image they’ve presented to the world unknowing of who these ppl really are. Once again idk the ins and outs of what happened but as far as I can tell so far is he happened to be following a bad person and when he realized that he unfollowed them. I don’t see why that needs to be hyper analyzed and dragged out. Cancel culture leaves absolutely no room to see both sides of any situation and in situations of blatant racism and homophobia an explanation is not needed but for something as vague as who someone’s following even after they’ve unfollowed them, I truly don’t think that this warrants a big to-do and ESPECIALLY not death threats. (Ik this is long and all over the place so feel free not to post it but I just wanted to get this out bc from the little bit I have learned this seems a bit blown out of proportion and I hope me saying thag doesn’t offend anyone)
All. Of. This.
Thank you! I agree. I think his age and how he's never usually on social media play a huge part in it. He unfollowed when he realized that person was problematic. I don't feel the need to announce every time I unfollow someone because I saw some shit I dont agree with. I get its different cause he's famous and I'm not but like noel doesn't use social media like all of us and influencers do. He uses it to promote his acting and when it was time to vote he promoted getting out there and voting to make a difference.
Cancel culture is very extreme and not always warranted. Yes for known racists, homophobes, antisemites, rapists, etc, cancel them and keep them accountable for their actions, but to wanna cancel someone for someone they followed when we don't know for a fact he even knows this person irl or if he even knew he was problematic.
Unfollowing, muting, and blocking people is the way to go. If you notice someone you're following posting shit you don't agree with or not posting when it comes to issues you care deeply about then please unfollow them, mute them or block them so you don't have to see them pop up again.
I literally cut a friend loose after almost a decade and blocked her on all social media. I didn't agree with anything she said when it came to covid or the BLM protests and then when I had surgery she didn't message me once. She isn't someone I need in my life. If I could cut someone out whos been in my life for that long, you can definitely unfollow some random ass person on social media because you don't agree with their opinions, politics, or whatever.
Anyways now I went off on a tangent LOL all this to say thank you for sharing and I agree with you!
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Survey #323
“dehumanized upon a shell  /  we came to bleed it dry  /  obsessed with divine wealth  /  divide and multiply”
Have you ever drawn on someone’s face while they were sleeping? No. Would you scuba dive in shark infested waters if you had the chance? No thanks. What is your favorite slow song? There are so many, but one of the slowest and most beloved of mine is "Obstacles" by Syd Matters. It gives me goosebumps without fail. It's one song I know I want at my hypothetical wedding. If there were aliens on earth, would you be afraid? I mean, yeah. I'd want to know their intentions. If your best friend died, would you be able to speak at their funeral? It'd be extremely difficult, but if I had any say in it, I absolutely would. Do you enjoy going through old pictures? Sometimes. Other times it causes too much pain, depending on the pictures, of course. Do you tend to have a lot of drama in your life? Definitely not. My life is painfully uneventful. When’s the last time someone was disappointed in you? I don't know. Do you have a house phone? No. Which fast food place do you eat at the most? McDonald's. Have you ever met someone on the Internet in real life? Yep. What’s your favorite color to wear? Black. Do you like being in pictures? No. Do you travel a lot? Essentially never, even though I'd love to. Do you play any sports? No. Do you like pickles? Yesssss. How many times have you been kicked out of a store? Never. Is there things you’ve told someone that you’ve NEVER told anyone else? Probably. When was the last time you had alcohol? My birthday dinner last month. Are you one to often make typos? No, except when I'm texting. I have autocorrect on for a reason. On a hot day, would you rather prefer ice cream or a popsicle? Ice cream. Have you ever wanted to get drunk and get your mind off everything? Yes, but I just didn't want to drink anymore at one point. I'm far from a lightweight, apparently. Have you played cards recently? No. Is there a band you like with amazing music but a bad vocalist? Mother Mother immediately comes to mind, but not the main singer; he's great. The woman who occasionally joins in is fucking horrendous. Like, it hurts my ears. Is there a certain song you like to headbang to? I don't and never have really headbanged, surprisingly. It's a sure-fire way to make me dizzy. Anything you might be giving up on soon? I hope not... Sometimes I feel like it's time with photography, but I just. Can't. Have you ever captured a moth? I've raised a caterpillar into one before, then of course let it go. Is there a band/artist who has strange lyrics but you love them anyway? Otep, noteably. When was the last time you wore earrings? It's been a long time. How many pairs of heels do you own? I don't think I have any. When was the last time you changed your picture on Facebook? Uhhhh it's been at the very least a month, but I know more. Would you consider yourself to be physically strong? Absolutely not, especially my legs. I struggle to fucking walk because they're so weak. Have you ever painted a piece of furniture? Yes, actually. I helped Jason paint his shelf black. Do you have a really fat cat? No, we never have. We've always been good about keeping our pets at a healthy weight. Do your initials spell a word? No. When was the last time you went to a playground? A year or so ago when I was taking pictures of someone's son, as well as just general family photos. That same family just had another baby the other day. Have you ever made a business card for yourself? No. Do you have a favorite curse word in a different language? No. Are there any recipes you have memorized? No. Do you know your multipication times tables? Lol not most of them, no... It's been way too long. Do you have a favorite font on the computer? Of the basic ones, probably Garamond. Are you good at creating logos? *shrugs* I've only ever really made my photography watermarks, and I only JUST made one I like pretty well. How about catch phrases? I don't make those. Have you ever been severely burned? Not severely, no. Did you ever dream that you had a baby? I've actually had numerous dreams where I was pregnant, but I don't THINK I've had one where the baby was born yet. Do you or anyone you know have a rabbit? No. What was the weirdest thing you ever saw cross the road? Hm, nothing too weird, I think. Last song you got stuck in your head? "ALTÆR" by 3TEETH. Last song you listened to? ^ Favorite movie quote? I don't know. Maybe Rafiki's quote about the past hurting, but you should take that opportunity to learn. Favorite lyric? That is impossible. There are so, so very many that just like slather me in goosebumps. What magazine are you an avid reader to? None. Have you ever gone a full day without interacting with another person? I have. How many relationships have you been in that lasted less than a year? Four. Have you ever been significantly more physically fit than you are now? Man, take me the hell back to my WiiFit days. I was pretty damn fit. The last time I did it, it was seriously alarming how much I struggled doing things that were once pretty effortless. When growing up, did you parents keep the house very tidy? "Very" seems a bit too much, but Mom definitely kept it in order. How many watches do you own? None. Should teenagers be allowed to have their cell phones with them in class? Yes. Emergencies happen. Do you have any gay relatives? Yes; my mom has a cousin who's gay. Have you unfollowed, deleted, or blocked anyone on social media recently? Not recently, no. If so, what was the reason? ^ What’s the biggest financial mistake you’ve ever made? Oh, y'know, dropping out of college three fucking times. Once I pay my own bills and I truly understand finances, that's going to fucking wreck me. Do you like metal music? Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck yeah. If so, what sub-genres of metal do you like the best? Heavy and symphonic. Who was the last person you sincerely thanked? My mom for bringing home lunch recently. Have you ever been in a relationship where there was a large difference in maturity levels? No. What’s the longest you’ve ever stayed as a guest at someone’s house? Maybe like a month when I was technically homeless? How bad was your acne when you were a teenager? It was preeeetty rough. Do you like strawberry shortcake? No. What’s the last you got out of the freezer? A microwavable breakfast bowl. Do you go on the computer or watch TV more? Guess. Explain why you are single: Because I'm a very, very underdeveloped "adult" that has very little clue what she's doing. At my age, I and any potential partner should want someone with direction. What feature do you usually get most complimented on? My hair. Has anyone ever accused you of being gay? Well, I'm bi. I had this weird therapist once in middle school though who asked if I was a lesbian... Idk why she did? What Facebook groups have you found the most helpful? I'm in an advanced ball python husbandry group, and while a lot of people there are utter, degrading elitists, they do have valuable information. Did you name all of your stuffed animals and dolls? I sure did as a kid. What would you have your bridesmaids wear? Probably black dresses, and I think it'd be really cool if I were to marry a woman, the bridesmaids wear checkered Converses colored into a rainbow pattern, or something like that. Where do you want to go on your honeymoon? I think Alaska, if it was a good time to see the Northern Lights. Are you sick right now? No, thankfully. Do you feel loved? Yes. Do you like your butt? Why or why not? God no. I have such a flat ass. Are you ashamed of your faith? I'm assuming by this you mean religion, in which case, I don't have one and am not ashamed of that. Has anyone ever tried to force their beliefs on you? Yes. Have you ever personally been a victim of homophobia? Again, I'm bisexual. I have never had a personal act of homophobia inflicted upon me, though. Have you ever been accused of being homophobic? Yes, because I was for most of my life. Fucking repulsive to remember. "Repulsive" is much too gentle a word, but yeah. It is so, so embarrassing to recall myself ever believing it was wrong because my then-religion said no-no. Do you think you’d be happier if you had a pet? I have two pets. I would be so, so lonely without any. :/ I've had pets my entire life. Who was the last person you went on a date with? Sara. How long has it been since that last time you went on a date? Like two or so years. Do you think babies are cute? They can be, but I usually don't find them all that cute, honestly. Especially newborns/very young infants. They're usually hideous. My youngest niece is actually the only newborn that I remember seeing that I thought was absolultely precious. What is your favorite style of pants? Ripped skinny jeans. Were you ever hospitalized as a little kid? No. Who was the last person who broke your heart? Jason. ^Do you still miss this person? I'm sure I always will to some degree. Do you have someone to talk to and share your secrets with? Sara more than anyone, but Mom, too. Is there someone you feel extra shy around? Just men in general. Have you been hurt more by friend break-ups or romantic break-ups? Romantic. Closest living thing to you? My snake's terrarium is against the opposite wall. She's in her hide. Would you rather drown or burn alive? Drown. You go unconscious first, so. And I'd assume it to be faster than burning alive. Also me no like hot. :'''( Who is the last person you got really pissed off with? My stepmother posted some ignorant bullshit on Facebook about how people blow out of proportion our "supposed" environmental crisis. I nearly deleted her right then and there. I take that shit seriously. Most of her beliefs drive me insane, honestly, but she's a wonderful person at heart, so I just bit my tongue. Who was the last member of the opposite sex you laid in a bed with? Girt. What type of sushi do you like to eat? Never tried it, don't want to. Was the last person you kissed physically attractive? Yes. Do you have any flowers in your room? No. Do you know anyone that owns horses? Yes. Well, I took pictures for her family, anyway. Do you know anyone who has road rage? Who? Jesus, yes. My little sister. Is your mom a big health freak or your dad? Or neither? Neither are "big" health freaks, especially not Dad when you consider he smokes and knows it'll be what kills him. My mom is diabetic though, so she's reasonably careful. Do you know anyone who wants to be the president one day? No. What kinds of chips are in the cupboards? We don't have any. Ma tries to keep snacks out of the house for both hers and my sake. If you were going out with your celebrity crush, what would you wear? OH BOY idk. I'd probably spend days planning the "perfect" thing. Do you have any friends who have naturally red hair? I do. Have you ever cried when a teacher retired? Yep, my band teacher. He was incredibly loved by literally everyone. Do you have your mom’s or dad’s eyes? Neither's. They both have brown eyes. What’s the best date movie? We gonna have a problem if you don't watch The Notebook w/ me if I have it on lmao. How long has your current best friend been your best friend? Many years now. (: Do you swear and yell while playing video games? I might swear under my breath, but I don't yell. Would you rather name your daughter Andrea or Eva? Andrea. If you were adopted, would you want to know? Yes. Do you know anyone who has grossly skinny eyebrows? I couldn't care less about someone's eyebrows. Do your pets chase after bugs? Oh yes, Roman certainly does. When’s the last time you were so excited you couldn’t sleep? Why? Hmmm... this actually happened recently, but I don't remember why... What is your mom’s favorite movie? I don't know, actually. I think it's some romance one. What TV family reminds you of your own family? None, really. Do you know anyone who always looks perfect? Who? One of my best high school friends Alon was like... just always pristinely beautiful, it seemed like. I haven't seen many pictures of her lately, but I'm sure that hasn't changed. Has anyone you know ever pulled the fire alarm in school, joking around? I think so once, yes. Who was the main character in the last book you read? A dragon named Sunny. Who are the last people you saw kiss? On the lips, I'm sure it woulda been my sister and her husband. Would you rather look at clouds or stars? Clouds, I think. Well, it would depend on their design, I guess, and time of day. When you get married, who will be the maid of honor/best man? Probably my mom. Does your best friend get along with their parents? She has a wonderful relationship with them. Have you ever been in a wedding? What were you? I was the fat, hideous, crying bridesmaid. ;x; Are you purposely hiding something from someone? No. What’s the most intimate thing you’ve discussed with a stranger? My suicide attempt with doctors. What, if anything, do you substitute for fries? I always get fries. Have you ever been in a building that was on fire? No. Are you in an argument with anyone right now? No. Have you ever written a poem for someone? Yes. Who’s the last person who cussed you out in anger? My grandmother. Who is the person you are closest to that you’ve meet online? Sara. Have you friended your parents on FB? Mom, yes. Dad doesn't have one. What’s the last tourist area you visited? Chicago. Mice or roaches? Mice are precious, meanwhile I hate roaches. Did you give or get any Valentines this year? No. Well, Mom bought me and my sisters each a delicious candy apple, if that counts? What’s your homepage? Google. Is there anyone whose grave you visit? No.
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my-one-true-l · 4 years
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for the hc’s can i request how the boys would ask someone out they really like ?
Hello Dear Anon!  Yes! Let’s go!
L would make himself a regular fixture in this person’s life, slowly building a connection with them. He would be very subtle in his affections towards them, the whole time sleuthing out things they like and their interests so he can tailor his conversations with them. He gives them little gifts like candies that he likes and hopes that they catch on to his feelings and ask him out (he doesn’t like uncertainty when it comes to stuff like this). If they don’t, he waits until they’re in a situation together, like eating dinner, and quietly says “One could construe this as a date. Would you like to consider it as such?” and hope that they say yes.
Near is not one for hinting. He appreciates directness so doesn’t so much as someone out as much as he out and out confesses his affections for them. He likes to know exactly how someone feels, good or bad. If they return his love, wonderful. If not, he pretends it didn’t hurt him, but secretly he is crushed (he’ll never show it though.)
Mello falls for someone quickly and hard, one minute not realizing his feelings and the next, everything’s changed. He waits for clues that they feel the same and when he’s confident that they do, he takes them by the hand and says “Do I need to ask or do you already know?” Hopefully he was right.
Matt is subtle. He makes friends with them, inviting them over to hang out and going out with groups and such, but doesn’t wait too long to let them know how he feels. He asks them outright to be his, and if they feel the same, that’s awesome. If not, he’s cool (and honestly a little hurt but he’ll be ok) and makes sure that his feelings won’t affect their friendship.
Beyond approaches them and starts talking in a rambling, almost unfollowable fashion, usually about some random interest he has at the moment. It doesn’t matter how long they’ve known one another. He will eventually interrupt himself and blurt out that he has feelings for them and wants them to be his. If they return his feelings, then it’s time for a rough, wet kiss for them. If not, he’s very hurt and openly shows it. It’s not so much anger as it is actual rejection that he’s feeling and he will do everything he can (without killing them) to never see them again.
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matteredloyaltyaa · 4 years
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                                                       NAV.
                GOOGLE DOC (RULES/ABOUT/VERSES).
                                         PLOTTING FORM.                                             HEADCANONS.                                                   WISHLIST. 
Tumblr mobile friendly version of my rules under the read-more.
DISCLAIMER:
I do not claim to own or have created this character, though the headcanon posts you see here are of my own interpretation of this character and events. I am private and selective, meaning that I only write with mutuals (those who I follow and who follow me in return), and tend to watch who I follow back and/or write with for my own comfort. However, my askbox is open to everybody if you wish to talk to me or the character on this blog, but I may not answer everything put in there.
PASSWORDS:
Due to my social anxiety, I don't have a password in these rules, nor do I send them in. I read everybody's rules and pages before following and usually before interacting.
ACTIVITY:
This is my main blog, which means that I am on it most of the time. However, I do suffer from some mental disorders, namely anxiety, depression, and OCD. These tend to affect how I interact ooc and can make me overly distant sometimes, and it's usually nothing anybody has done to me but my own mind running off on it's own about things. So, I do apologize for that. I may be absent from blogs during bad periods or make a couple posts here and there that I always delete after an hour or two stating that I'm in a bad way. Everything will be tagged.
HIGH HONOR: 
Please note that I base my characterization off my raw play of this game, in which Arthur is HIGH HONOR and you may see more of that toward the end of his main verse. However, I still play him as a morally grey individual, especially as he’s trying to find his own mind on things in a way, but ultimately he leans more toward honorable moral choices (or what are considered honorable for the life he leads). He will do both good and bad things. At his point in time, I’m not exactly leaning towards adding a low honor verse, as his portrayal within the fandom has turned me off completely and after playing that route myself, I don’t really see much reason to. However, that may change if I end up finding a way to put a spin to that.
BLOG & PERSONAL TRIGGERS: 
Please note that I don't have many triggers myself outside of suicide and overly anxiety inducing content (jumpscares, purposely paranoia inducing posts, etc). 
There are some themes that I would like to avoid writing about in detail or at all. Namely, I WILL NOT write out anything like incest (the John/Arthur ship tends to fall into this category for me, along with Arthur/Dutch and Arthur/Hosea, so I will say that it's a NOTP for me), abuse (outside of mentions in regards to backstory, all forms), pedophilia, and rape. Also, I should note on a personal side that pregnancy can make me a little uncomfortable due to some gender stuff with me. I don't mind mentioning it, nor do I mind parental relationships when it comes to Arthur and sometimes outright adopting children in certain verses, but threads and interactions solely based off pregnancy can make me uncomfortable. It's difficult to explain but I would like to avoid it. Really, when in doubt, just ask.
This blog does and may contain triggering material, due to the nature of this game and the character. The biggest ones that will be present here are violence, guns/shooting, crime, and illness. I should also note that, due to the fact that this game takes place in 1899, there may be some triggers related to the views of this time period. Arthur himself is rather progressive and doesn't hold those views himself, but that doesn't mean the people around him don't and may be referenced in threads. Everything will be tagged as I catch it and where needed.
SPOILERS: 
This game has been out for at least a year now. I will not be tagging for spoilers anymore, so please follow or read at your own risk if you are working through the game for the first time.
WRITING, SPEED, and NSFW:
My general writing style is paragraph/paragraphs. I don't mind one-liners but I usually only reserve those for starters that I’m writing and I tend to expand on the length of those as I go. I format my posts, mostly just some minimal spacing, small text (not sub), and all-caps words, bold, and italic usage. If this bothers anybody or makes it hard to read, please let me know and I can continue our thread in a non-formatted way. I also use icons, but I will follow my partner's lead on iconless rps. I can also be a little long-winded with my replies but you aren't obligated to match that. As long as I don't get like three sentences back to five paragraphs, we're all good.
I'm a slow rper. It may take me a day or two to get around to things, both asks, threads, and messages. I don't mind a nudge here and there but if it feels like you're pressuring me, I will warn you and block if it continues.
I'm 24, the muse is 36 in his main verse. We are both over the age in regards to nsfw. Smut is kind of rare for me and I don't do it often on Tumblr, however if we're in a ship and you want to write that over Discord, I may be open to it. That said, too, I will ONLY write nsfw with people and muses who are OVER 18. There is no exception to this. That noted, too, Arthur's in his 30's so a massive age gap may not appeal to him much either.
SHIPPING: 
I’m going to sound like a hardass but: I am a highly selective shipper on here, and the ships that do appear on this blog are ones I have had for quite some time. Everything of a romantic nature will need to be discussed with me and the chemistry has to be there for me to agree to shipping. I’m not an insta-shipper, nor am I accepting to pre-established romantic relationships outside of those in canon. They will need to be discussed with me like every other ship and may be subject to me disagreeing to do it. Otherwise, I am multi-ship, despite being highly selective, and I’m fine with discussing them but please be aware of this.
FOLLOWING, DRAMA, AND DUPLICATES: 
I will usually give someone a day or two of active posting after following before I unfollow if I don't receive one back. I don't mean anything personal by that, I'm simply making sure I don't accidentally like or send anything in if we aren't mutuals. That said, too, I am selective with who I do follow. If you're a sideblog and you don't have that blog easily accessible on your main blog or you don't message me about it, I'm likely going to miss it. I don't follow rp blogs that are run more like personals if only to keep my dash slower. Also, generally, if our writing styles don't mesh, you're rude to me, or you post nasty things, I will likely unfollow/block/or not follow back.
I don’t interact with or reblog callout posts. I don't have great patience with ooc drama and will likely unfollow if there is a lot of it being posted by you.
Following and being followed by duplicates (other Arthurs) is completely fine with me. However, with the mentality sometimes, I won't go out of my way to follow first if only to avoid making anybody uncomfortable by me doing so. I'm also non-exclusive for general interactions, so multiples of the same character I am fine with. I may take mains, however, which means these blogs get priority over plots and focus in headcanons, etc.
CROSSOVERS AND ORIGINAL CHARACTERS: 
I'm crossover friendly so long as I know the character/fandom. That said, if I just can't get into it or make it fit, I won't force it.
I love original characters and you guys are cool with me, however I do need to see at least some stats or a verse we can interact in before I follow/follow back. I'm also fine with your OC knowing Arthur in their backstory but, again, romantic stuff needs to be talked over with me first.
STARTER CALLS: 
I've found that I don't enjoy doing starter calls. I may do them here and there when the urge strikes, but the best way to interact with me is to message me or continuing memes sent or sent to me. I'm also more than happy to like other starter calls, too, if you want to throw them my way.
QUESTIONS?: 
No. Go away. >:(
I’m kidding. Just drop me a message, I’ll get back to you. I also have a Discord available to mutuals, if that’s what you prefer. I promise I’m not as much as a hard ass as these rules make me seem.
ABOUT THE MUN: 
Hey! Thank you for reading these if you do. A little introduction here: my name is Rory, I'm 25, Canadian and operate mostly out of the GMT-7 time zone. Though, I tend to post at odd hours so that may not be too noticeable. I'm nonbinary and I prefer they/them. I'm a full time university student, which means that I may disappear when studies pile up or my time is divided. That said, I do enjoy talking to people when I'm able. My IMs and Discord are always available to mutuals, just drop me a message.
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starthieve · 4 years
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Tagged by : @regalentempire thank you nelly !  Tagging : i’m actually gonna tag some people this time , @shurima-demigod , @fxlgurkinesis , @pantheon-god-of-war , @targonian , @yuhl ,  @januite​  , @moonaspect​  , @sunszenith​ to name a few ovo . 
THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.
fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.
My muse is:   canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless /
Is your character popular in the fandom?  YES / NO.
Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK. 
Is your character considered strong in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK.
Are they underrated?  YES / NO.
Were they relevant for the main story?  YES / NO / MAYBE ?
Were they relevant for the main character?  YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG.
Are they widely known in their world?  YES / NO / MAYBE ? 
How’s their reputation?  GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL. 
How strictly do you follow canon?  — what’s a canon
SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals.  —  A celestial who has traveled far & wide throughout Runeterra healing those who have sought her help & leading the fallen or those lost in their destiny . She can also see the fates of others too so there’s that. 
Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?).  —  She a sad goat ngl , lots of angst & can be a bit melodramatic at times.
What inspired you to rp your muse?  —  Soraka’s always held a special place in my heart for the longest time. I’ve written her before but it didn’t go the way I wanted it to . Though now I got a better idea of what I want out of her as a muse so here I am lmao . On top of that , I wanted to just write a muse that wouldn’t claw out someone’s sense of living in 2 seconds yk ? 
What keeps your inspiration going?  —  The idea of having a character be immortal & a celestial is honestly the smallest bit of fuel that I’ve found very fun to play around with . Of course that’s not the only thing that keeps me going with Soraka , since I really just love how deep of a character she can be , & I’m notorious for seeing how far I can take my characterizations :v
Some more personal questions for the mun.
Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.
Do you think you give your character justice?  YES . . .?  / NO. ( I . . . think ? ngl idk how people think I rp Soraka , so I’m a little unsure on that end ) 
Do you frequently write headcanons?  YES / NO. ( Honestly my blog is like 90% headcanons at this point . All of them straying from fanon Soraka I feel lmao ) 
Do you sometimes write drabbles?  YES / NO. ( I very much do , just haven’t gotten around to it on Soraka yet ) 
Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day?  YES / NO.
Are you confident in your portrayal?   YES / NO. ( Personally , yes. but ahaha )
Are you confident in your writing?  YES / NO. ( I like to think it’s one of my better points , of course there’s always gonna be room to improve , but I think I got Soraka’s voice / tone down ) 
Are you a sensitive person?  YES / NO. ( Yes & no ? I’m 50/50 , but I’ll put no because I tend to be on the more neutral end of things & I like hearing different stuff from different perspectives ) 
Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal?  — Always , always , always . No matter what blog / fanfics I’ve written , I will always be open to constructive criticism to what I write . I know I like to twist a lot of canon & make stuff my own , & I’m also notorious for posting long worldbuilding posts. I know not everyone agrees with that so ye. Gimme that sweet , sweet constructive criticism . 
Do you like questions, which help you explore your character?  — Oh I love them , it helps me flesh out the character 10x more & helps me develop them so much more. 
If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why?  —  Eh if they disagree with my headcanon then they disagree with it , I’ve no qualms with that. To each their own , yeah ? Not everyone is going to like my headcanons about a character & that’s fine ; I don’t hate the portrayal others have either because everyone really has different visions of a muse & that’s fine lmao 
If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it?  —  I’d honestly just tell them to unfollow if they really dislike it , as said before to each their own & that’s ok yk ? But I’d rather not have someone feel angry / upset everytime I literally post anything about the character , so honestly my only answer there is unfollowing .
If someone really hates your character, how do you take it?  — Then . . . don’t follow a roleplaying blog for that character ? I dunno I’d prolly just go on with my day & ignore it lol. I don’t understand why people actively go following a roleplay blog for a character they dislike , only to hate on it. 
Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors?  —  Oh please do. I’m horrible at catching my grammatical mistakes when I’m writing at 2-3 am as if my usual writing hours , please never feel bad about calling me out on it .
Do you think you are easy going as a mun?   — Yeah I think I’m honestly p chill . My rules are fairly lax & my general goal is for people to just feel comfortable around / on this blog , I just take 10 years to replly & I sob over my ships alot ahaha
That’s about it, congrats for filling out!
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