#i signed the thing i reblogged this morning asking them to not put lgbtq people behind a cw

[isa-ah]

watching twitch go back on their new regulations on content warning streams that discuss "politically sensitive topics" to say it won't affect "lived experiences" and is only applicable if it's the "focus" of the stream ..... I'm sure nothing could possibly go wrong with that. 👍

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

part vii

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi

Welcome back, friends! I know it’s been a long time since I updated, and I’m sorry for that - I just finished up my junior year of college, and combined with all of the protesting an unrest going on in the US (where I’m from) it’s been hard to write on schedule. On that note, I want to say that as a person and a writer I unequivocally stand with the Black Lives Matter movement and those protesting for an end to police brutality, the demilitarization and downsizing of the police, and equal rights for all - noting especially that these issues particularly affect LGBTQ+ people of color, particularly Black trans women. I am always striving to keep myself as educated and informed on how to be an antiracist, and encourage everyone to take a look at https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/ for resources to educate yourself, donation links if you’re able, and petitions to sign. Breonna Taylor’s murderers still have not been arrested. I love writing, and I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations. Please reblog as always, and pop into my inbox and let me know what you think!

part vii

February 14

Dress like I’m going to a diner? Cass was more than a little confused as she pulled one leg through the pair of her good jeans (the ones without ripped knees, she wore them out with Mat and to less-important meetings and even to church once or twice when she was feeling particularly daring) as she slipped into her pea coat, toying with the button by her wrist as she opened the door to the crisp February air. It wasn’t snowing, but it was cold enough that her hands were still jammed firmly in her coat pockets. She could see her breath when she breathed out. Matt pulled up a few minutes, an apologetic look on his face as he slammed his hazards on and scrambled over the chair to push her door open. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Mat said breathlessly. “Parkway was backed up.”

Cass waved him off. “It’s not a big deal, just crank the heat up.”

“I know you said you didn’t want anything too fancy, so I hope you like it,” he added hesitantly, looking in between her and the road as he turned a corner. 

Cass squeezed his hand that was hovering just above the gear shift. “I’m sure I’ll love it, Mat.”

It really had been hard for Mat to figure out what to do for Valentine’s. He was leaving the next day for a weeklong road trip, but it was still, you know, Valentine’s, and he wanted so badly to get it right. So he tapped Jordan, called Tito, even somehow got ahold of her roommates to ask them what they thought she might be interested in. He wouldn’t admit it, but there also might have been a text or two back home to his sister for a second (third? fourth?) opinion. He wanted it to be perfect, but even more than that, he wanted it to be her. Dinner at a Michelin-starred restaurant and a Tiffany’s necklace might be all well and good, but it didn’t really matter if the proverbial shoe didn’t fit. The handful of Valentine’s dates he’d gone on in the past had mostly been the standard roses-and-chocolates type, and while Cass did love chocolate, this evening meant so much more to him than any previous attempt. 

He didn’t want to do anything to mess it up, anything to jeopardize what was hands-down the most meaningful and serious relationship he’d ever been in. He’d dated girls for longer, sure, but there was something about what he had with Cass that made him feel like she had been in his life forever, like she was already a permanent fixture who made everything else make sense. They drove down the island of Manhattan, his thumb running back and forth over the palm of her hand until he pulled into a hotel parking lot. Cass looked at him quizzically. “Easiest place to park,” Mat said by way of an answer. 

He parked, opening Cass’s door and helping her out. “Where are you taking me?” Cass said with a small laugh, looking across the street at the dozens of couples taking an early dinner. 

Mat held up a finger. “It should be...right up here,” he said, double-checking his phone. “Ah-ha!”

A dusty green awning and flyer-covered window greeted the couple. It was a pizzeria, and it was perfect. It wasn’t just the fact that, like any sane person, Cass loved pizza, but the fact he knew what she wanted and prioritized that over any expectation or preconception about what the “right” way to celebrate was. And she could really go for a dollar slice. 

They squeezed into a two-top table in the corner. Cass hung her bag on the back of her chair, scooping back to go order at the counter. When it came to food, Mat was a simple man with simple tastes. He liked pepperoni. “I got us garlic knots because it’s Valentine’s day and I love you,” she said, setting down the trays, “and also because I’d willingly murder a man for garlic.”

Mat picked one up, biting in and nearly moaning. God, these are good. “Babe, you’re going to be a lawyer. You can’t just go around getting yourself arrested for murder. I don’t think your garlic defense would go over well with the judge.”

Cass shrugged. “I can get myself off.” Mat raised an eyebrow. “Ew!” She threw a packet of red pepper at Mat, promptly hitting him square in the chest. “Get your mind out of the gutter. There are children present.” To be fair, aside from them the restaurant was filled mostly with high school students, nervously holding hands and sipping each others’ Cokes while they tried desperately to make small talk. And to be fair, she could get herself off. 

“Are you finally going to tell me what we’re doing?” Cass asked, biting into the last bit of her crust. 

“In a minute,” Mat said, twisting around to rustle through the pocket of his leather jacket. He pulled out a small, flat square box, sliding it over the table to her. Cass traced the edges delicately with a finger. 

Mat smiled softly at her. “Open it.” 

Cass tapped the box against her palm until the bottom fell softly into her hand. Inside, nestled in a cloud of cotton, was a beautiful silver bar necklace. It was simple, elegant, not too flashy. But it was her, and it was hers. 

“I know you don’t like me spending money on you,” Mat shrugged, “but you deserve nice things. You deserve to be treated well.” He reached over the table to tuck a curl behind her ear. 

She picked it up, touching the chain, clasp, pendant. “Turn it over,” Mat said pointedly, with a smile on his face. Cass flipped it. There was an engraving on the back — well, two, really. 10-28-20. That one she knew. That one was their anniversary. WWRD. That one she didn’t know. Glancing back up towards Mat with a confused look on her face, she raised an eyebrow. “What would Ruth do,” Mat supplied. It took Cass a moment, and once she realized, she almost fell over, dissolving into peals of laughter. What would Ruth do? “I know I’m nothing but a filthy Canadian,” Mat started, “but I also know you love her and look up to her. You don’t just have a mug with someone’s face on it for no reason.” That was true. For Secret Santa last Christmas, Ryanne had 100% gotten Cass a mug with Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s face on it. And she 100% used it every day for her morning tea. 

“Plus, I read on Wikipedia that before she was a judge, she was a lawyer and did a lot for women’s rights and stuff. Which is really cool.” Cass nodded. That’s sweet, she thought, he actually did his homework. 

It was Cass’s turn to turn to Mat, leaning forward and cupping his cheek gently. He leaned into her touch. “It’s beautiful, Mat. I love it.”

“Let me put it on for you?” Mat asked. Cass nodded, he stood up and shuffled behind her, delicately grabbing the necklace and brushing her hair to one side. Cass shivered at the touch of his fingertips. After a few seconds, he managed to clasp it, leaning down and brushing a kiss on her shoulder before walking back to his side and grabbing his jacket. “You ready to take off?” His eyes flickered down towards his watch. It was nearing 7:30. “We’ve got to be somewhere by 8, but they said to get there early.”

“Who’s ‘they’?” Cass asked curiously.

Mat cracked a grin, sliding her hand into his as they walked out of the restaurant. “You’ll see.”

Two minutes of walking later and Cass was staring into the lights of Broadway. Even living only a few hours away, she had only been once before. The Lion King, in 5th grade. Her little sister Eliana was more of a theatre kid than Cass; field hockey and lacrosse kept her too busy in high school, any spare time she had between sports and work study was spent spending time with friends or reading old books. Eliana was four years younger than her, and when she got the lead in Heathers, Cass had never been happier to live only twenty minutes away from home. El killed it, she got to have a night at home, and was able to make pancakes with her mom in the morning. It was a win-win-win scenario. But Cass still loved musicals, listened to soundtracks while she studied, tried to make the drive once a year to Boston  — Eliana was at BU — to see a winter or spring show.

So when she was suddenly looking up at the ten-foot-tall poster for Waitress, her mouth kept opening and closing like a fish. “Do you like it?” Mat asked hesitantly. “We can find something else to do if you’re not into it, I know —”

Cass cut him off, squeezing his hand tightly and standing on her tippy toes to press a kiss to his jaw. “It’s amazing, Mat. I just didn’t know what to say. I still don’t, really. This is such an...unexpected gift. But I love it.” Mat relaxed. He genuinely was nervous about the choice; her roommates had told him that she liked the soundtrack and she had recommended that Sara Bareilles album to him way back in October, but he didn’t want to assume that meant she’d want to see it live. Mat was glad that he was wrong. 

Mat gently pulled the tickets out of his coat pocket, flashing them to the usher and handing Cass’s to her. “You ready for a show?”

---

“So, what did you think?” Cass asked as they walked out of the theater. 

“I liked it!” Mat said. And he really had liked it. Some of the music definitely confused him, and he didn’t understand how quick changes were physically possible, but it was good. “Earl’s a class-A dick, though. Jenna’s much better off without him.”

Cass nodded. “Correct.”

 March 4 (thurs)

 Cass glanced down at her watch, making sure it was a good time to call. It was just after 6 in New York, which would mean it was...5 in Winnipeg? Was that right? Mat probably hadn’t gotten to the arena yet, or if he did, it was more likely dinner than training or warmups. Clicking on his contact, it rang for less than ten seconds before Mat picked up. 

“Hey babe! You good?” It wasn't per se unusual for them to call each other — especially during road trips, they tried to talk or FaceTime every day — but it was usually Mat who called first, and usually just after games. So it was understandable that he was a little confused. 

Cass giggled. “I’m good, really good. Got some good news, just wanted to hear your voice.” 

“Awww,” Mat teased, “you loooove me.”

Cass didn’t really blush, but if she did, her cheeks would be scarlet. “Yes. I do. Shut up.”

Mat let out a laugh. “Just teasing you, babe. Good news, eh? What kind? Did you hear back from any of the places you applied yet?”

“No,” Cass huffed. “Not that.” She had sent out her résumé to somewhere around ten different firms and nonprofits, mostly in New York, but some as far south as D.C. and as far north as Boston. She had also sent in an application for a clerkship at the Supreme Court months back as some sort of pipe dream, but hadn’t heard anything back and had long since abandoned it as a lost cause. “I’ve done a few interviews, but nothing permanent. It’s still pretty early, though.” And that part was true  —  out of everyone in her circles back at school, there were maybe a handful who already had jobs lined up after graduation, most of them having evolved from summer associate positions they’d taken with some highbrow firm in Manhattan. Or D.C. One was even going to London to do something very intellectual-sounding with trade negotiations. 

“I know you’re probably a little nervous, and I totally get that. But don’t worry, Cass. You’re incredible and so smart and so qualified and someone’s going to see that, even if it takes a little longer than expected.” 

“Thanks,” Cass said, breathing out deeply and smiling softly. Mat was getting good at reading her, so good that he could tell when something was bothering her even without being face-to-face. And he gave damn fine pep talks. 

Mat cleared his throat. “So. Good news?”

Cass screwed up her face. “Good news. Right. I just got out of the office, and you know how I said I was almost done with my hours?” It had taken Cass longer than usual to finish her experiential requirement, since nearly all of her peers got it knocked out in a summer and she, obviously, was a little more busy when it actually came to term time. “Mhm,” Mat responded. “I just got done with the last of them today!”

Mat was confused. “So...your good news is that you’re finished? I thought you liked working with Chris?”

“Right, yeah, I do.” Cass tried to backtrack. I should have explained. “Chris told me I’m welcome to stay on, and I’m going to. I genuinely like what I’m doing. Since I’m not doing it for school anymore, he put in a request for a status change with HR, and it just got approved. So,” she paused for dramatic effect, “the good news is that now I’m getting PAID.” 

“Awesome!” Mat said. “You’re going to be the one making the big bucks now.”

“I’m making 16 dollars an hour. It’s barely above minimum wage, but it’s nice to finally get something back.” 

Ten minutes later, after they had hung up, Mat leaned back in his hotel bed. He really was proud of Cass, unbelievably so, but hadn’t yet admitted to himself just how nervous he was. Not about their relationship, really, but about where things were headed. He absolutely saw them together as a long-term thing and at least from what Cass made it seem like, so did she. But they hadn’t really spoken about where they saw this whole thing going, or what it would look like, or really anything beyond vaguely discussed plans for the summer after her graduation. The uncertainty wasn’t really concerning him. Mat’s new contract locked him in through 2026, so he wasn’t leaving anytime soon. And he wouldn’t want to, he loved hockey and loved New York and loved his team. 

Cass was a whole different story. She was probably the smartest person he’d ever met, and Mat knew that she could and would be able to go just about anywhere for a position. She didn’t have to stay in New York if she didn’t want to. And sure, New York was a pretty good place to be a lawyer — it didn’t take a genius to know that — but the worry kept popping up in the back of his mind that she’d get an incredible offer somewhere like California or Chicago or even somewhere international and would leave the city. Leave him. Mat would never dream of holding Cass back from her dreams. It would be a dick move and she’d worked way too hard to let everything go to waste. But the idea of doing something long distance, like true long distance, scared the shit out of him. It wasn’t just that he’d miss the sex or seeing her in the stands at games or early morning coffee dates, but Mat thrived on closeness, he thrived on intimacy of all kinds. It would terrify him to have to be away from someone who meant so much to him for so long. But this was Cass, his Cass, and if he’d go through it for anyone, it would be for her. 

I’m overthinking this, Mat thought, as he flipped his phone over and over in his hands. Don’t make up problems where there are none. 

 March 13 (sat)

Cass tapped her fingers nervously as she walked through the doors of the Islander’s practice rink. It was family skate, and Cass couldn’t help but feel like she didn’t quite belong. 

“There you are!” Mat said, his bag slung over one shoulder as he greeted her with a kiss. “You ready? I know Tito and Paige are already down there and they’re starting to get on the ice.”

“Yep!” Cass said brightly, forcing a smile and grabbing his hand a little too quickly. 

Mat raised one eyebrow. “Alright, what is it?”

Cass dropped the face. “It’s just...this seems different than all of the other things I’ve gone to. It’s not like when I’m in the box at games or we go out with the team or I hang out with the girls when you guys are on a road trip. It’s like,” she let out a huff, “this is small. This is close. This is meant for family, wives and kids, and I’m not...I’m not family. I’m your girlfriend, sure, but…” She trailed off. 

Mat squeezed her hand. “I plan on keeping you around for a long time, Cass. You’d better get used to it. And besides,” he said, looking at her softly, “wives have to start somewhere.”

Luckily, Cass didn’t have time to get too into her head, because she was suddenly engulfed in a bear hug from Paige. “I know we got coffee on Monday, but it’s been too long, Cass. I swear, you’re working too hard.”

Mat chimed in. “Tell me about it.” Cass swatted at him. “She’s been studying and editing and sending in her résumé to every office she can get her hands on.” He sat his chin on top of her head, arms crossing in front of her chest to hold her hands. 

“Alright, Mr. Clingy,” Cass giggled, twisting her head to look up at Mat. 

“But you looove your clingy boyfriend,” Mat whined, leaning down and softly kissing Cass. 

She scrunched her nose. “Regrettably so.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “You ready to go out on the ice?”

“Yeah.” Cass nodded, taking a pair of skates from the rack. By the time she had unlaced her boots and set them to the side, Mat had already tied his hockey skates, an extra pair he kept in his practice bag. 

“Let me,” Mat said, gently taking the skates and kneeling down in front of her. 

Cass rolled her eyes, but her cheeks heated all the same. “If you insist,” she said, holding her left leg out. 

“Okay, Cinderella,” Mat chuckled, holding her ankle for support as he wiggled her foot in, pulling the laces tight and tying them. “Double knots are more secure,” he said, blushing, as he finished the second skate. 

“You’re cute when you blush,” Cass said, pinching Mat’s cheeks, which only made him go more scarlet. 

He straightened out the knot, reaching out a hand so Cass could stand up. She steadied herself on the skates. “How much skating have you done?” Mat asked as he led her to the door. 

Cass shrugged. “A little? I went a few times as a kid and the girls and I go to Rockefeller Center around Christmas every year, but not a ton. Skating’s an expensive enough sport as it is, and my parents were already having to deal with coming up with the fees for Noah before he started working.”

Mat grimaced. “Yeah, I get that. I hate it, how cost prohibitive the sport is, and I try to help out back home when I can, but knowing that there’s so many kids who love the sport and could be so good,” he took a tense breath, “but aren’t able to because their families don’t have the means. It’s really shi—” He cut himself off, noticing his teammates’ children skating around. “It sucks.”

“It does.” Cass nodded. “But I know you have a good heart, and I know you’re helping where you can.” She gave a half-smile as they stepped onto the ice, her hand gripping his forearm as she tried to find her balance on the slick surface, which had been passed over by a zamboni right before the group’s arrival. “Wipe that smile off of your face,” she said, sticking her tongue out. 

“Yes ma’am,” Mat said with a grin, pulling her along. 

---

After an hour or so of skating, Cass had gotten the hang of it enough to where Mat was good to step off the ice for a few minutes and talk to some of the boys. “They have goldfish,” he had mentioned. “I think the snack table’s supposed to be for the kids, but I’m not above theft in situations like these.” So Cass skated around with Paige, Lauren, and some of the other WAGs, nearly all of whom were much, much better skaters than herself. 

“For someone who grew up on hockey, you’d think this would be way easier for me than it is,” Cass grumbled, tentatively pushing off from the sideboards. 

“You’ll get it eventually. I believe in you,” Paige said, poking her cheek. 

She grimaced. “Hopefully. I can see the Athletic’s morning headline now: ‘Cassidy Cabrera Shaw, Girlfriend of 2018 Calder Trophy Winner Mat Barzal, Falls on Face While Attempting to Skate.” 

“Sue them,” Paige suggested.

Cass laughed. “That’d be nice, wouldn’t it? Wish I could.” She stuck her hands in her jacket pockets. “No grounds for defamation if it’s true.”

“Laws are dumb.” 

“They can be,” Cass admitted, looking over to the bleachers. “You want to go get drinks? I think I saw Whiteclaws in the adult’s cooler, and I know how you feel about those.”

Paige was already halfway across the rink. “Only if all the limes haven’t been taken!”

Cass shook her head, turning like Mat had taught her and skating over to the benches. Paige had gone over to sit with Anthony, a lime Whiteclaw successfully in her hand, and it took Cass no time to find Mat. He was sitting in the second row next to some of the other guys, and he was holding a baby. A very cute, very small baby. She gingerly made her way over to the group, catching Mat’s eye. He beamed at her as she took a seat next to him. 

“And who’s this little cutie?” She asked, smiling at him. 

“This is Milo,”  Mat said softly, turning him slightly so she could wave at him.

Cass absentmindedly remembered asking whose son it was — an offseason trade from Colorado, she vaguely recalled processing the contract at work — but she really couldn’t say which one. But she stroked Milo’s face with one finger, puffed out her cheeks at him, and suddenly he was in her arms and everything else fell away. She bounced him for a few minutes, easily falling back into her old routine — she was an older sister, after all — before handing him back to Mat, who was clearly having some separation anxiety. 

Lauren sat on the edge of the bench, gently touching Cass’ shoulder with Collins on her hip. “He looks really good like that, doesn’t he?” She asked. Cass’ cheeks burned. She didn’t know anyone had seen her looking over at Mat and Milo. “Yeah, he does,” she said, a soft smile crossing over her face.

 March 26 (fri)

 A steaming cup of tea in her hands, Cass threw her head back against the couch, knocking her reading glasses askew. She straightened them with a huff. There were two days until the deadline for the law review, and she still had two articles to get through for last-minute edits and spelling checks. It was just past 11, which normally wouldn’t have been all that late for her, but she had been staring at her computer for hours and it was beginning to take a toll. She had been at the library until 8 or so, making more than one trip to the coffee cart in the lobby before she realized that she wasn’t going to get anywhere sequestered away in a cubicle on the fourth floor. The Islanders were playing that night, so Cass shot Mat a text that she was headed over, packed up her bags, and headed over. 

He had just given her a key the week prior, and it was her first time using it. Even though he constantly told her she was welcome to go over, whether he was there or not, she had more than her fair share of nerves as she jingled her keychain, thumbing over her apartment key and mail key and car key and key to the house back in Connecticut before she opened the door. She set the kettle to boil and grabbed the little-used box of English Breakfast from the cabinet before crashing on the couch, where she had been pretty much ever since, save for a bathroom break after a thrilling review of a paper on recent intellectual property rulings of the 2nd Circuit Court. 

The doorknob turned and Mat walked in, shower-damp hair, still clad in his gameday suit with his duffel slung over his left shoulder. “Hey, babe,” he said, dropping the bag and walking over to the couch to plant a gentle kiss on the top of her head. “Still at it?”

She nodded ruefully, rubbing her eyes. “Yeah. I ordered takeout earlier in case you’re hungry, there’s an extra gyro in the kitchen,” she pointed to a bag on the counter, “and they threw in free baklava if you’re still hungry.”

His eyebrows perked. “Baklava?” Cass had discovered early on in their relationship that hidden beneath his curated meal plans from the team nutritionist and smoothie kits was a surprisingly committed sweet tooth. She was a stress-baker, and Mat had been more than willing over the past few months to serve as her taste tester for cookies, pies, and anything in between. 

Cass giggled. “Yeah. Better get it before I steal the last piece, though.” 

Mat returned later with the pastry on a napkin, shrugging off his suit jacket and collapsing onto the cushion beside her. “Anything else interesting happen today?”

Cass shrugged her shoulders. “I had yoga in the morning like usual, which was fun. I tried a hot yoga class today, though, and you would not believe how much I sweat. It hurt my soul.”

“No pain no gain, baby,” Mat chimed in. Cass rolled her eyes at him. 

“But then I had law review and my Entertainment Law seminar before I headed over to the office. Pretty normal, they had me looking over some leasing agreements for the next season. Called my grandma, she’s shipping my serape stole over next week and needed my address,” Cass added.

“Serape stole?”

Cass adjusted her position on the couch so she was facing Mat. “It’s a Mexican thing. You know how graduation gowns usually have stoles for the school or whatever?” Mat nodded. “It’s pretty common to have cultural ones too, Black students will often wear what’s called a kente cloth stole and Mexican and some other Latinx students have serape stoles. Give me a sec,” she said, grabbing her phone and scrolling through her photos. “Here’s a graduation photo of me and the girls from UConn, Ryanne’s in her kente stole and I have mine.”

Mat looked bewildered. “Why are you wearing so many of them?”

Cass laughed, realizing which photo she pulled up. “Okay, fair enough. So there’s the normal school one on the bottom, then I had one for the honors program, then on top of that is the one from my sorority, then on top of that is the serape. Most of the other photos it’s just one or two, like in the ones when I’m with the sorority or the Mexican Student Association or whoever. We thought it would be fun to take one where we’re just drowning in stoles and leis. Made us feel fancy.”

“You do look very fancy,” Mat said, leaning his head on her shoulder. “You also look very tired, Cass. You need to go to sleep.”

Cass scrunched up her nose. “I’ve only got the two papers left to look over, and I’d really like to get them done before I head back. Get them all knocked out, y’know?”

“Stay here,” Mat said easily, as if it wasn’t even a question. “Stay here, you can finish reviewing them in the morning. Plus, I’d feel a lot better if you weren’t taking the subway alone at half past 11.”

Cass sighed. He had a point. “Fine,” she said slowly, “but you have to promise to wake me up if I don’t get out of bed by 8. Okay?”

Mat gently took her laptop, setting it on the coffee table. “Okay. Now go take a shower and hop into bed, pretty girl. You’ve had a long day.”

“Thanks,” Cass said, smiling gratefully and padding down the hall to the bathroom. Shedding her clothes, Cass stepped into the shower, expecting to use Mat’s Old Spice shampoo — which, to be fair, didn’t smell half bad — when a white floral bottle caught her eye. She had mentioned offhand once that she was picking up a new bottle of shampoo, and Mat must have been listening more than she gave him credit for. Because, without asking, he had gotten one too.