#im just tagging everyone as common courtesy
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y'all know what time it is!!!! twitter doodle crosspost to tumblr. for context of the last image: someone over on twitter posted a headcanon that bobby fulbright and sebastian debeste were brothers, and i couldn't help but draw it
#ace attorney#my art#fuck this is a lot of characters#simon blackquill#uendo toneido#klavier gavin#ema skye#aura blackquill#nahyuta sahdmadhi#phoenix wright#miles edgeworth#mia fey#maya fey#franziska von karma#sebastian debeste#bobby fulbright#sorry for the people who wanted to see more of anyone#im just tagging everyone as common courtesy
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just saw another one of those "gif makers ere essential to society" esque posts and it has 18k notes 💀🤘 (8k rbs, 10k likes)
#if im being honest i dont care that much for myself but it's a part of a bigger issue#im pretty sure 99% of us do this for fun/for free so it's not like we're living off of rbs but but it's common courtesy to acknowledge#someone's hard work w a rb#and on a site with little algorithm it's crucial to spread things that you like#not saying to rb every single gifset u see regardless of the fandom or if u like it but definitely do rb things u like. tags are icing on#the cake but not required tbh. but i do really like them <3 i read every tag#i try to reply to people with funny tags. it makes tumblr more fun for everyone bc of the engagement (like... remember booping? and how muc#fun we had?)#i think im preaching to the choir atp or am just saying common knowledge but i just think it's a little funny yet again one of those all#hail gifmaker posts are being spread around... while most of us are dying likely due to decreased engagement anyway#apple lady words
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Undertale Fandom and Crediting Creators
Why is the Undertale Fandom so obscenely bad at crediting people when they use their characters? I'm not saying you have to tag the creator everytime a sketch of their character makes it into their post, but general Fandom etiqette says: 'if you want to draw my character, at least credit back to me', and this Fandom just decided nope, never going to happen. I've seen AUs based on other people's AUs that do not once, anywhere on the blog, credit the original AU. I've seen alternate characters of AU characters not breathe a single word of the original creator.
'It's because theyre popular' so? I talk with people constantly who don't know the original creators of aus. Who don't know their blog names. Who have never laid eyes on the original material. And the fact 90% of art I see of these characters is completely uncredited, not only contributes to that, but is just such a basic disregard for other creators in a Fandom space that it's upsetting to think you couldn't take the 2 extra seconds to put 'character by ___ 'at the end of a post
I've never been in a fandom that thinks using other people's stuff should be done without credit. It's just common place. It's common knowledge. Here's an indie creator online, in the same fan base as me, when I use their chatacter, I credit back to them, because I as another indie creator in this fandom would want the same. But nope.
I did a little test, a little experiment, I scrolled through the undertale au tag and counted how many people credited while using a character that didnt belong to them
3/20 had credit.
Absolutely abysmal.
Now again, Im not saying to @ the creators every time a character is used, but simple acknolwedgement of their blog or other social media is all you need, so that if anyone wants to find that character off of your post, they can do so, without having to spend 20 minutes trying to find the 1 post that took the 2 seconds to credit another fandom creator with their own character.
This isn't even mentioning the countless times AUs have been purposefully targeted to be stripped of ownership by people that think they should either own the au, or that the au should not belong to the original creators. Ie x au belongs to the community (when it doesn't). A thing that was/is actively defended by a lot of people. Also abysmal.
There are some creators exempt from this criticism, but for the most part, I think just about everyone still actively posting content does it. And its a terrible habit the au fandom got itself into, and one of by biggest pet peeves about the content made for it.
If you want to use someone else's character, in the fandom, it's the most basic courtesy to say who made that character no matter how popular you think they are, because I know for a fact you'd want them to do the same for you.
So maybe we could start doing that again?
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way to take things out of context <33 lemme show u some things i said in the actual post that aren't taken out of the connotations i meant to imply them with?
"they also are popular bc they're seen as Better than other creators and put on a pedestal. which is both uncomfortable for them and Highly discouraging for others." this was the whole sentence. way to take things out of context huh.
"many people just disregard other rlly talented creators in favor of the already popular ones (who are popular for a reason. their art / fics / wtv Are really good and i read their stuff too! not trying to put them down here, just trying to lift other people up)" so where in this sentence do u see me saying that they aren't good writers?
"also bragging rights? babe nobody's bragging abt how they get more interaction. that's rude asf and entirely out of the question. and those popular writers ur talking abt who Could brag if they wanted to DON'T. bc they aren't despicable human beings who love to put others down." so did i or did i not clarify that i think the people byler tumblr puts on a pedestal handle it gracefully.
also the way u phrased this is Exactly what's wrong with this fandom. have u ever read anything that wasn't be the 10 writers u idolized? i've found some AMAZING, FREAKISHLY TALENTED, SWEET AND ALL-ROUND LOVELY writers in fandom whom i never would've found if i didn't Specifically try to broaden my horizons. the way you phrased this implies that there is simply nobody who compares to the writers with most engagement and like... how would u know? isn't this exactly the kind of behavior i was saying was Not It? ur putting them on a pedestal and refusing to acknowledge other people, no matter how talented they may or may not be. i'm not saying everybody is an amazing writer right off the bat and that these writers aren't amazing; i'm saying that others may be just as good. i know Several amazing writers eho dont get half the recognition as mediocre writers in other fandoms (NOT! TALKING! ABT! BYLER! HERE!) based on luck and when exactly they post. u guys will never branch out and Try to support these other fic writers who are helping keep this fandom alive and contributing Beautiful fics and then say that the tag is dying just bc UR personal favorite creators aren't creating as much. this doesn't in any way diminish the obvious prowess and skill of the Big writers, bc they're amazing writers and people, but u suggesting that nobody else even comes close? this is NOT nyt bestsellers this is FANDOM. its common courtesy to atleast respect people who write these fics for free and if u can't provide basic respect by trashing others' writing that u haven't even read bc its not one of the Big writer's writing... ur part of the problem.
and im going to say it for the last Fucking time. dont bring my fics or engagement into this. im speaking for so many other people and im trying to demand support for Everyone. this was never just abt me. i said this previously too, but i made a whole ass EVENT to shine light on less popular writers. bylerficrecweek was made for a reason. if it was just abt me and my engagement i never would've wholeheartedly put my whole heart into that project. and don't u Fucking dare insult my writing. "maybe you're not as good at it as you think"? im fucking tired of u coming on my blog, claiming im saying a bunch of BULLSHIT and recontextualizing everything i say and insulting my writing on top of that. you won't see this bc ive blocked u now but. im genuinely so fucking tired. im turning off anon. clearly who ever is sending these has a problem with me personally; so say it with your whole pussy to my face now. ok thx and im Really Fucking Tired please read the post for what its meant to be before mindlessly accusing me of shit.
#sara says#discourse#all of u just shut up fr. theres only sm a girl can handle before i just start telling u all to kys 🥰
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re: Goncharov and unreality.
Right so as someone for who similar topics effect me greatly, I want to explain why people are tagging it for some of the other anons.
I want to make this clear- you dont have to tag for anything you dont want to. Its within your right to tag only what you want to tag, even is someone asks you to tag it. Its your blog. TBF original-posting things in community tags its common courtesy to tag certain common warnings, and people might think you're an ass if you dont, but you dont HAVE to tag unreality or spiders or whatever when its fully your own space.
Now, I have seen a lot of people specifically ask for Goncharov to be tagged for a great many reasons. Its not JUST people ~infantilizing the crazies~. Real people are upset by it like any other thing.
Heres the list of reasons:
Psychosis trigger for things that arent real but are being treated like they are. Its a personal reality vs apparent shared reality mismatch and it can cause someone to think they are having a psychotic episode when so may people seem to be treating it as real, or trigger one outright.
Disassociation trigger for things you remember vs things you dont. Its a 'oh no did I forget something important' thing and a bit of a reality mismatch that can cause people to spiral. Unreality is something that both some dissociative and some psychotic people appreciate being tagged because of this. Im heavy dissociative but I dont need it personally- though I know people who do want unreality tagged for this.
Gaslighting ptsd trigger. This is my problem with similar posts like 'smoothsharking'. It feels like you are being gaslit if you ask someone 'hey serious question is this Goncharov thing real' and they stick to the bit and insist it is or if you say 'hey this isnt real?' not getting the joke and they insist it is at you and mock you for it. If you are very sensitive it can feel like every post is gaslighting you, even if its not the intention to do so. I know we all love making gaslighting jokes on this website, but its a real serious thing actually and people do have triggers for it they appreciate getting tagged.
Autistic and dont get jokes sometimes. If you dont already know its a funny lie people like telling and you correct them and get mocked for it, it fucking sucks actually! Letting people know its Just Jokes helps avoid this. Ive checked the notes for unreality/joke explanations many times for this reason. And people do that 'joyless asshole who hates fun and has to correct you being wrong' screenshot at you when you didnt even know they were doing a joke and just wanted to help and its mean as all hell and similar jokes can upset you thereafter because you remember getting mocked for days about it.
They just find it Fucking Annoying and are asking to tag it because of that. Their dash is just filled with shit they dont care about. Its courteous to tag the fandoms of things you post, as least do that.
Not everyone who dissociate or is autistic or has gaslighting related ptsd is going to need it tagged, but some do, and thats why.
Still up to you to tag, but its not completely without reason for someone to decide to tag it. Some of us crazies DO appreciate it.
--
Explaining a joke kills it. That's the main reason a lot of people are never going to do so, but also, somebody else always will.
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just as a gentle reminder: please do not assume anything MY batman portrayal. the things i joke about on the dash might make you assume he’s one way or the other.. clarify it with me. i’ll have to showcase bruce’s true personality through more formal methods (ie. metas), but that’s obviously going to take time. so for now, i ask that before you guys come to plot, throw out most of what you know about whatever comics you’ve read. there’s exceptions, but more often that not--- people are accustomed to dceu/cartoons/newer comics; i don’t always follow those. come with an open mind!
#(this is not a vague!! no one's actions sparked this please dont worry omg i forgot to make this disclaimer. you're fine!!)#but also im nice about it omg you dont have to feel like you have to walk around eggshells#just extend basic common courtesy and we're all good!#i understand that the most everyone knows about bruce is that he's solemn and an asshole#and while you aren't completely wrong.. he is also my wittle bwaby boy#🤭🥰😁#LMAO.. im not even joking#as i keep writing and making small or big metas.. im sure you'll get a grasp for my bruce#those of you who have been here since i've been using the hot pink circa 2018.. y'all get me#y'all know who my baby boy is 😁#i'll have to go on long-winded rants about the common sayings about batman one day#the shit from the nolan trilogy.. AND batman v superman#JESUS please do NOT TAKE THE NOLAN TRILOGY AND BRING IT TO MY BLOG#i liked it as a kid but after reading comics.. bro#anyways we wont talk about that rn! i always make my tags so long#hope you're all having a safe and nice day! <333#OOC.
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Kill My Lonely Nights - Tyson Jost
a/n: after plotting and replotting this fic for over a month its finally here. my baby and definitely my most favorite thing ive ever written. hope everyone enjoys it as much as i do.
tagging @bqstqnbruin thanks for being my beta and for bouncing ideas around with me and also my fav josty whores 😇 @justjosty @hookingminor @farbutnevergone
Synopsis: tyson finally meets jt’s neighbor — and he’ll stick by her side through her ‘i’m a single and independent woman’ phase as long as jt doesn’t find out
songs: im so tired - lauv, troye sivan; better than heaven - slander; cherry on top - olmos, kyle reynolds
words: 20k+
warnings: alcohol, smut, unprotected sex
“Tyson, you know my neighbor right?”
You roll your eyes at JT’s way of introducing the two of you, because, no, you did not know the curly-headed brunette in front of you. You had seen him in passing a few times when he was over at JT’s but you never learned his name. In fact, the only thing you knew about him was that they were teammates and you got that from deductive reasoning since he was always dressed in some sort of Avalanche merch.
“I’m y/n,” you smile, sticking out your hand for the stranger to shake.
“Tyson,” the no longer nameless stranger responds, a quirky smile on his lips.
“It’s nice to finally put a name to the face,” you respond, your cheeks heating up as you look over him. He’s cute in that quirky way where his head’s a mess of curls, his eyes full of joy, and his shoulders filling out the grey Avs hoodie quite nicely.
“Same here,” Tyson agrees, shoving his hands into his sweatpants pockets. You continued to gather the few things in the living room that were yours before finding your phone charger and giving JT a hug.
“I’ll see you when you get back from Chicago yeah?”
“Yep, have a good birthday!” JT cheers, from his spot on the couch.
With that you bid Tyson and JT a goodbye, choosing to wave at Tyson instead of showing an outright affection towards the stranger. The door shuts behind you as you walk a few feet down the carpeted hallway to your own door.
“Dude,” Tyson starts, turning his attention back on his buddy from where it was lingering on the now-closed door.
“No-”
“You don’t even know what I’m gonna say!” Tyson incredulously interrupts.
“You’re gonna tell me she’s hot because, yeah, anyone can see that. She’s going through this thing she’s been calling a ‘guy cleanse’,” JT explains, putting finger quotes around guy cleanse. Tyson brushes the comment aside, not bothering to ask any more questions. If he’d want to get to know you, he knows he’d have to do it without JT’s help. JT always had this thing of being overprotective over the women in his life, especially being a guy that grew up in hockey with three little sisters.
Another week or so passes before Tyson sees you again. It’s when he’s getting into the elevator after getting dinner with his JT, and you’re just getting home from what Tyson presumes is work and maybe even the liquor store with the purse and lunch box hanging in the crease of your elbow as well as the case of Truly’s in your other hand.
“Hey, it’s y/n, right?” Tyson says in lieu of a greeting. He holds the elevator open for you as you step out, thinking of ways to keep the conversation longer than a simple greeting.
“Yeah,” you smile, warmly at him. He can see that your hands are full as you try to shovel through your bag in search of your keys as you take another step towards your door towards the end of the hallway. “Well, uh, have a good night Tyson.”
Tyson watches as you turn away with a small smile, and suddenly he’s stumbling over his words, trying to make the moment last longer. He’s rarely ever seen you around, most times in passing in this very hallway and the occasional time JT talked to you on the phone when they were on the road. You didn’t go to games, you didn’t hang out with the team, and you were never over at JT’s when Tyson would show up.
But when he had officially met you the other week when you were leaving JT’s apartment, he was transfixed and curious about the girl JT always talked about but never brought around.
“Do you wanna come in for a drink?” You ask, nodding to the case in your hand. You’re asking as more of a common courtesy than anything else, but you can tell that he’s waiting for you to make the next move regarding this run-in with him. The peachiness of his cheeks and his hands shoved into his jacket pockets are proof of that.
“You sure?”
“Any friend of JT is a friend of mine,” you smile, opening your front door and gesturing for Tyson to go in before you.
“Yeah, okay,” Tyson smiles, taking another step towards you and reaching out for the box of Truly’s. “Let me take that for you.”
Tyson graciously takes the case from you and steps through the doorway of your apartment, suddenly losing any train of thought he once had now that he’s in an apartment he’s never been in. He sees the fridge across the way and decides he’ll just stick the drinks in there. There’s thankfully space in the fridge for them and he watches you shred your raincoat and heels by the door. “So, uh, how do you know JT? Like, I know you guys are neighbors but he’s always referring to you as his best friend. I honestly didn’t even know that you lived next to him until the other week.”
You laugh, thinking back to how you even met JT. It was nowhere near being a typical introduction between neighbors, it was honestly pretty far from that. “So, whenever he first moved here like two years ago, I was sitting in my car in the parking garage on the phone with my dad, and this car parks next to me and the driver gets out and completely dings my car. I’m talking a paint scratch that’s starting to rust now.”
“He’s pretty unaware of his space,” Tyson laughs, knowing all too well that his friend did something like that.
“And so, I get out of my car, and I confront him about it, and he apologizes and whatever, not a big deal. But then he gets off the elevator with me and I’m thinking this guy’s gotta be a creep since he’s barely talking to me but then he pulls out his keys and is unlocking the door next to mine, and now he bugs me all the time,” you smile, Tyson making space for you to go into the fridge he’s currently standing in front of.
“You see that picture frame over there?” you nod your head to the wall your TV is mounted on. Tyson walks over to it, inspecting it and noting that neither of the people in it are you or JT. “There’s paint missing behind it because when he was helping me mount my TV he hit the wall with the drill. He got me the frame to cover it but I still haven’t gotten around to putting a picture there.”
Tyson’s eyebrows quirk up, “and how long has it been there?”
“Uh, maybe a year?” you answer, your tone making it sound more like a question as you blush. Tyson only laughs at you, fully understanding how something like that can slip from your mind. You offer him a Truly at that, him not missing an opportunity to chirp you since your flavor of choice was lime, even though his was black cherry, which in your mind was the most basic flavor there was.
He sits across from you at the island while you stand opposite of him, leaning on the granite in front of you. He can’t get enough of your laughter, finding it’s something you do quite often as the two of you share stories. You, on the other hand, have to stop yourself from blushing since he doesn’t break eye contact with you once. It’s starting to get late and you still haven’t eaten dinner, so with an empty Truly in hand, Tyson is reluctantly getting up to head home to prepare for his early practice and flight tomorrow. He doesn’t want to impose on you any further, considering you were essentially strangers an hour ago.
You wave goodbye at him as he walks down the hallway to the elevator, a smile on your face as he nearly runs into Mr. Harter, the man that lives at the end of the hallway. You laugh as he apologizes profusely, something you amount to his Canadian upbringing.
Tyson curses himself over the next few days for not getting your number, and there’s no way in hell he’s asking JT for it. He doesn’t know how he’ll go about getting it, and the possibility of him running into you to get it is slim, with the fact that the Avs have a nine-day roadie on the upper East Coast. He figures he’ll try to ask JT more about you over the course of the trip, and then hopefully weasel his way into getting it.
It’s three days into the roadie and they’re sitting next to each other on the flight from Ottawa to Toronto. JT is busy on his iPad, and Tyson looks around him, seeing Cale and Gravy reading books, and G is passed out behind him. Tyson nudges JT’s shoulder with his, JT pulls out his AirPod and looks towards his buddy.
“So, y/n, eh?” He jumps right in, watching as JT rolls his eyes and moves to put his AirPod back in. “You said she doesn’t date?”
“Correct.”
“Why’s that? She seems like she wouldn’t have any issue in that department.”
“First off, that’s gross. Secondly, even if she was dating, you aren’t allowed to try anything,” Tyson chooses to ignore that part but continues to listen anyway. “She’s just like focused on herself, I don’t know. She knows her worth and knows what she deserves. She’s been single for as long as I’ve known her. It’s no bullshit with her, in every aspect of her life.” JT shrugs his shoulders as he talks. He’s not an expert on the topic because it’s not one you really talk about with him considering it’s just not really a huge part of your life.
Tyson hums along as he listens to JT talk, trying his best not to show why he’s even asking these questions in the first place. He takes what his friend says in stride, not being one to have gone through a phase like the one you’re going through. In fact, Tyson’s never been someone to say no to a date, fully taking advantage of the pro-athlete lifestyle he’s been living for years now. JT knows this, knows what it’s like to be 22, and all eyes on you.
He was there once, but he’s been with Sydney for over two years now. JT knows the locker room talk that goes on within hockey teams, he’s been living it his whole life. Yeah, the Denver room has been the best and the calmest when it comes to comments about guys’ dating lives, but the occasional whistle and chirp is made when one of the single guys has a story to share. The last thing he wants is to hear your name in one of those scenarios.
He doesn’t get your number during that road trip, can’t even find you on social media so he puts his efforts on pause. He even went through the list of people JT followed, your name not coming up once. Come to think of it, he doesn’t even know your last name.
Soon January is ending and February is starting, the season kicking into high gear as the all-star breaks ends and the playoff push truly begins. Tyson still hasn’t seen you around other than the occasional run-in, and you honestly haven’t given him much thought since that night in late January. Your life has always been chaotic, but still in the most organized way, and you’ve barely seen JT with the way his game schedule is laid out. But the middle of February brings Sydney to town and brings too many parties while she’s around.
It’s at Andre’s place where you see Tyson again, warm pleasantries shared between the two of you. He’s a little confused as he watches you chat with almost everyone there, the weird feeling coming from the fact that most people filling the apartment are on the Avalanche roster. He wonders if you’ve already met most of them or if you’re just that outgoing.
Tyson finally makes his way over to you, two cans in hand as he offers you the one with green lettering with a smile.
“A lime White Claw? That’s the way to my heart,” you joke, placing your hand over your heart before taking his offering.
“I was asking around to see if there were any Truly’s,” Tyson laughs, waving his hand around. “But I hope the White Claw is okay.”
“A White Claw definitely isn’t as good as a Truly but it’s a close second, thank you.”
“Right!” Tyson agrees, “People think they all taste the same but there’s a clear hierarchy of which seltzers are better than others.” You laugh along with Tyson at his comment in complete agreement. You tell him your own tier list of seltzers, starting with Truly’s and ranking the Bud Light ones as the worst.
“I’ve only had a few of them, but I’ll take your word for it,” The laughter between the two of you dies down before JT finds you, saying he’s been looking for you for a little bit.
“It’s not my fault I’m hidden by all these huge men,” you roll your eyes, pointing around the room that’s filled with men all over six feet tall.
“Did you know your neighbor was a hard seltzer connoisseur?” Tyson asks with a quirk of his eyebrow, causing you to scoff. You were nowhere being a ‘connoisseur’ of sorts.
JT takes a sip of his drink, “She’s an alcohol connoisseur period, bud.” WIth that JT disappears to go find his girlfriend, leaving the two of you alone. Tyson’s face is filled with confusion at JT’s comment, not entirely sure what his comment even meant.
“I used to bartend in college,” you answer his silent question. “Which makes me JT’s personal bartender most nights.”
“Maybe I’ll have to get you to make me a drink sometime then,” Tyson suggests. It’s a little too forward for his liking but it just slips out, and you giggle at his attempt at flirting. His tan cheeks have a pink flush to them, and you’re sure it’s not from the alcohol since most people have only been here for an hour or so.
“C’mon,” you nod your head in the direction of the kitchen. Tyson silently follows you, weaving between the people and the furniture. “I can get you that drink right now.”
Once you make it to the kitchen you look around the counters, taking note of the different types of liquors laid out. Tyson watches you as your hands move around, picking up and setting down various bottles. When you’re satisfied with your concoction, you hand him a shot glass, one in your own hand to match his.
“It’s a shooter,” you inform him. He puts trust in you, clinging your glass with his own and bringing the glass to his lips as he tips his head back. Your eyes stay on him as his tongue pokes out to swipe the extra liquid off his lips before you realize you haven’t even taken yours yet. His eyes stay locked on you as you throw your own shot back, your eyes reconnecting when you set the glass on the counter next to you.
A shiver runs through you as his eyes watch your every move. You hadn’t noticed it with any of your other previous run-ins with him but he’s intimidating in that way where his presence is radiating that good kind of confidence. You watched him, unbeknownst to him, as he made his way around the room before ever making it to you.
“So what was that you just gave me?” He asks, crossing his ankles and leaning further on the counter behind him. You move to stand next to him, your shoulder brushing his cotton-covered bicep.
“It’s called a lemon drop shot, it’s just vodka and lemon juice so nothing too special,” you shrug, turning to look up at him. “Maybe I’ll get around to making you more drinks.”
Tyson smirks lightly at your comment, his hands gripping the counter behind him. He remembers what JT told him not too long ago about you, and how you’re someone that doesn’t put up with bullshit when it comes to relationships and his heart deflates a bit. He’d much rather keep talking to you and eventually kiss you, but he knows deep down that’s not what he wants with you either. He can tell from your brief encounters that this could be way more than just a few dates, so he holds back and instead bites his lip before pulling his phone out of his pocket.
He passes it over to you, and you hesitate taking it as you look between the black phone and his brown eyes, “so we can plan a time for you to make me drinks.”
“Ah, I see, I see,” you quip back, taking the phone from his hands and opening a new message and typing in your phone number. You respond back to him on your phone, showing that you got the text and opening up the contact to save his information. “Should I put in some funny name for your contact or is Tyson good enough?”
Tyson laughs fully at that, his chest rumbling for a moment before he calms down and tells you his name is just fine for now, “but I won’t complain if you find a better name for me.” Tyson scratches the back of his head for a moment as he places his phone onto the counter next to him, trying to find the words to keep the conversation going.
You leave not too long after that, catching an Uber with JT and Sydney back to your place. Tyson stays near your side most of the night, giving you a full hug as you leave and a promise of texting you soon.
You see Tyson the next morning at brunch with JT and Sydney, his strong, muscular thighs touching yours in the small booth. You get some fancy french toast, Sydney eyeing you from where she sits across from you. She’s been a close friend of yours ever since JT introduced the two of you whenever she first visited. Her eyes keep flicking between you and Tyson and you give her a stern look, silently telling her to knock it off.
“So, y/n,” she starts, a smirk forming on her lips. “How’s the dating life?”
You scoff with a laugh at her question. She knows well enough how that aspect of your life is doing considering you text her on a pretty regular basis. You choose not to answer, the scoff you let out being enough.
“Besides, no guy is good enough for her, right?” JT asks, looking over at you continuing his girlfriend’s train of thought. His eyes glance over at Tyson sitting next to you and Tyson ignores the look his teammate gives him.
“You mean the idiots you always try to set me up with? The ones that don’t live in Denver?” You quip back with a raise of your eyebrows. It’s more of a joke than anything else, but Tyson doesn’t quite understand your tone and mannerisms yet.
His heartbeat speeds up momentarily, thinking that if you hadn’t had any interest in any of JT’s other friends, you definitely wouldn’t have an interest in him. Besides, he may live in Denver now, but that’s not even the whole year when you account for traveling and the offseason.
You miss it, but Tyson changes the subject anyways, which is something you’re grateful for. Brunch passes by and when the waitress comes back with two checks, you knit your eyebrows.
“Actually, could I have my own check? We aren’t together,” you stumble, cheeks heating up at the misinterpretation of yours and Tyson’s relationship.
Tyson takes the check from your outstretched hand, “it’s fine, I got it.”
He’s talking more to you than to the waitress as he smiles warmly at you. You thank him quickly, but not before saying you have enough cash to take care of the tip. He doesn’t argue, following the three of you out of the restaurant and to your car. The two of you linger a little further back than JT and Sydney, both of you reveling in the comfortable silence.
“Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” You ask.
“Not really, I was probably gonna call my mom and maybe do my laundry,” Tyson answers.
“Do you want to come over and hang out instead? I’m just gonna third wheel the two of them but maybe we can find something to do that’s more interesting than laundry.”
Tyson laughs at the third wheeling comment you make, being all too familiar with being the third wheel around most of his friends. “Sure, yeah, I’ll just follow you all then?”
“That sounds good. I’ll see you in a few,” you say goodbye with a smile and a shy wave, hopping into the backseat of JT’s SUV.
Once you get home, Tyson’s knocking on your door a few minutes later with the same warm smile he seems to always have. He sheds his winter coat as he enters your apartment, throwing it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. He notes the change in clothes, as you’re now wearing an olive green crewneck instead of the wrap top with flowy sleeves you were wearing at the restaurant a few moments prior.
“You a big reader?” He asks, picking up and inspecting the book that’s laid out on the kitchen island. The Power of Now, it reads on the cover. He flips through the first few pages and goes to the back cover to read the reviews.
“Sometimes, it depends on what it is, but I usually just go through phases where I read in all of my free time and then I won’t touch a book again for the next few months,” you admit with a small laugh. “That one’s really good so far though. It’s just about how to live more presently and in the moment.”
Tyson nods his head as he listens, his eyes on you as you speak, “Cale really likes reading this kind of stuff, I should tell him about it.”
“Which one is Cale, again?” You ask, mentally going through the Colorado roster.
This causes Tyson to laugh, “JT really doesn’t bring you around much, eh.”
You laugh along with him, “not really, but that’s on me sometimes. I go to bed too early for my own liking.”
Tyson’s confused as to why he’s never really seen you before at anything. Guys on the team are always bringing their friends around if they can. At first he thought he just always missed you, but he knows he wouldn’t miss someone as carefree and beautiful as you. Nevertheless, he’s glad he’s sitting in your kitchen right now, and to top it all off, he didn't even have to ask you to hang out first.
“Do you read at all?” You ask curiously. You really knew next to nothing about the man in front of you other than that he was Canadian, played hockey, and preferred Truly’s over White Claws (his favorite flavor was still to be unknown to you).
Tyson chokes out a laugh at your question, “No. When we travel I usually play random games with Sammy and he’s been teaching me French. I still don’t know much so don’t go asking me to say anything.”
“Duly noted,” you nod. You move to the pantry, looking for a few things as you continue to respond. “Like I said, my interest in reading comes in waves and you barely speaking French is better than me only knowing English.”
You continue rifling through your pantry, pulling out everything you know you need. You’ve just finished setting all of the dry ingredients you’d need to make brownies when Tyson asks you what the hell you’re doing.
“I was thinking we could make brownies,” you respond, opening your fridge and pulling out the milk, butter, and eggs. You hear the island chair scratch against the hardwood, indicating Tyson getting up.
“Wait a second,” Tyson says causing you to turn around with a confused look on your face. “Are these the brownies Comph always bringing around that his friend makes?”
“They very much are,” you chuckle. He compliments the baked good one more time before you’re putting him to work. The two of you move seamlessly through your small kitchen, both of you sharing smiles and stories to fill the time. There’s a moment where you see a certain glimmer in his eyes paired with a small smirk and you think he’s about to pull one of his infamous Jost pranks that JT was always telling you about. He doesn’t though, and instead just nudges your hip with his. It seems like you’re looking more at him more than focusing on the flexing of his forearms as he mixes the dry ingredients.
Once it’s time to mix the dry and wet ingredients, Tyson all but misses half the bowl, causing a good chunk of it to land on your crewneck and jeans. The brown powder covered the ‘Disney World’ logo across your chest.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Tyson rushes out, holding back a laugh, because of course he would embarrass himself in front of you and mess up something as simple as that. You move to the sink, shaking off the loose contents into it to help alleviate any sort of mess.
“You’re fine, I promise,” you reassure, turning around to give him a smile. He smiles nervously back at you, not fully knowing your statement was genuine or if you were trying to spare his feelings. He glanced at your chest, trying to see the damage he had done before realizing he was staring directly at your chest and his cheeks flushed. You walked back over to where he was standing, giving him another smile as you began mixing everything together.
“Would you, uh, ever wanna grab dinner with me some time?” He asks, voice higher than normal as he speaks, his heart beating nervously for your answer. Your face falls as you hear the question and you slowly turn around to face the curly headed brunette. Tyson is a great guy, it’s obvious to everyone, and you’re not oblivious to the fact that there’s physical attraction between the two of you. It’s that Tyson is best friends with your best friend who also happens to be your neighbor.
You laugh nervously at the question, the question seemingly coming out of nowhere, before you respond, “Sure, it’s not like it’s a date or anything.”
You brush it off, even though you’re pretty sure he was explicitly asking you out on a date. You turn your focus back to the brownies, popping them in the oven before wandering down your hallway to change into something clean. As Tyson walks over to take a seat on the couch, he sees your retreating figure as you pull your sweatshirt over your head. He stops in his tracks momentarily, seeing your bare back, the skin between your shoulder blades covered by your lacy bralette. He blinks a few too many times as he shakes any thoughts from his head and continues his path to the couch.
Your guys’ friendship quickly develops after that. The two of you starting a snapchat streak and having a long string of text messages involving various TikTok’s and memes alongside the more serious stuff. You seem to be spending more time at JT’s place when Tyson is also there and soon enough Tyson’s leaving JT’s and going the few extra feet to your place instead of home like he says he’s doing.
It’s one of those rare nights where it’s the three of you at JT’s place and you’re all catching up on the latest episode of Hell’s Kitchen. You’re pretty sure JT cheated and watched the new episode already with how quiet he’s being and how absorbed he is in his phone.
“JT, did you already fucking watch this?” You ask, whipping your head to look at the ginger in question. He’s sitting across the room from you in what he claims as ‘his chair’ while you’re sharing the sectional with Tyson, your feet in his lap. “And you wonder why I never watch shows with you. Tyson and I are going to start watching it without you.”
Tyson chuckles at that, his thighs rumbling under your ankles, his hands coming to rest atop of your shins. JT scoffs at you, unaware of your two’s newfound friendship. To him, the only time you ever saw or even talked to Tyson was when he was also around. Besides, he didn’t need to know the ins and outs of every single thing you did in a day, even if Tyson was involved in a good portion of those things.
You let JT’s previous actions of watching your show ahead slide since the episode was finally wrapping up. JT goes back to the Hulu home screen with an exaggerated yawn followed by stretching his arms above his head. It’s then he turns to his two best friends, letting them know he’s going to start heading to bed and that the two of you are more than welcome to hang out for a little while longer. He doesn’t think much of his offering, but it’s one Tyson’s thankful for if it means he gets uninterrupted time with you that isn’t revolving around the team or drinking.
It’s then he remembers how he never found you on social media, something that had bewildered him in the moment but one he forgot about once he got your phone number and snapchat.
“So, this is gonna sound totally weird but do you have an Instagram?” He asks, infliction in his voice and ears turning pink at the question. He remembers how not too long ago he did some heavy duty deep dives into JT’s social media to see if he could find your name only to come up empty handed. Your stomach tightens and the thought of him looking for you, and you definitely don’t take it the weird way he’s insinuating.
“No, I don’t,” you respond, sitting up further in the corner of the couch, Tyson bravely holding onto your ankles. “Which definitely makes me the outlier of our generation. I had it for a while but then I kinda just got sick of it and how fake it was starting to get, so I deleted my account. I have not missed even once, too.”
He nods his head in understanding, he’s been there, especially with being a professional athlete. “I’ve been there. I deleted my twitter a while ago because every time I got on there some nobody would be in my notifications about how I was playing. I really didn’t need that, ya know? Like, I play hockey for a living and I’m very aware of when I’m underperforming. So, it was hard when I would get on my phone and see other people telling me the same things.”
Tyson’s fingers began to brush comfortably over your shins and ankles as he spoke, causing you to start slouching back into the couch.
“I’ve gone back and forth with deleting Instagram but I just can’t seem to make a decision. Besides, I only follow my friends and musicians I like.”
“It’s definitely not for everyone,” you agree with a hum. “The biggest plus is that it gets me off my phone and I’m more absorbed with the real world. It’s all in that book I was reading a while ago that you asked about.”
Tyson remembers that conversation, a smile falling on his lips as he hands rub higher and higher on your calf. The movements are causing you to yawn not a minute later, but you try hard to keep your eyes open to continue to hang out with Tyson. “You a big music guy then?”
Tyson scoffs with a small, playful grip on your leg, “I get the aux in the locker room, so I’d say so. Not a big deal.”
You laugh at his joking manner, snuggling deeper into JT’s couch. Tyson notices how sleepy you’re becoming and he gives your leg another squeeze.
“C’mon, I’ll walk you home,” Tyson suggests as he slips from underneath you to his feet.
You chuckle at that, considering you're more than capable to walk the few feet from JT’s door to your own. Before you can respond saying just that, Tyson’s reaching his hand for yours to help you off the couch.
“My mom raised me to be a gentleman, so I’m walking you home even if it is down the hall.”
You accept his offer, the two of you walking in silence until you’re pushing your key into the lock. You turn back to Tyson once you’ve cracked your door open, wanting to take in the silent, all-too-relationship-like feeling this scenario is. Tyson’s eyes drift from where they’re focused on your eyes to your lips, before he’s scratching the back of his head, a sign of nervousness you’ve quickly caught on to.
“Goodnight, Tyson,” you smile softly, leaning up on your sock clad toes to wrap your arms around his neck and give him a hug. His arms wrap around your middle; his back bending over at an awkward angle to properly reach you. You breathe in his musky scent as his hands spread out over the small of your back. The scruffiness of his beard against the side of your face has you giggling as you pull away.
“Goodnight, y/n,” Tyson reciprocates your smile, walking a few steps backwards before finally turning around and heading to the elevator. Your eyes linger on his toned thighs and maybe even his butt under the cotton of his joggers as he walks the all too familiar way hockey players walk, before finally entering your apartment.
JT’s sitting on your couch this time around, rather than you sitting on his, a too large glass of wine perched in his hand as the two of you catch up. He’s been busy with morning skates and a string of back-to-backs with a road game sprinkled in the middle. It’s getting to be that part of the season where it’s ‘all gas, no breaks’ as he likes to say. They had an earlier than normal game today due to it being a national broadcast on a Sunday, so the two of you ordered take out from one of your usual spots and parked your asses on your couch for the night.
“I feel like we haven’t had best friend time in so long,” JT groans, sipping down the remnants of his wine before standing up for a refill.
“Not all of us can travel the continent on a regular basis,” you chirp with a laugh, one JT matches. The tv show murmurs in the background, it’s one you completely forgot about as JT relates stories and updates on his sisters to you.
“I still can’t believe Jesse graduates soon,” JT starts. “Like, soon when we go to Boston it won’t be the annual family trip since two of the kids are actually in the same city for a change.”
“But that’s so awesome for her, you have to remember that. How’s her season going?”
“They’re doing good, winning games and taking names, she’s really stepped into her captaincy role.” The smile on JT’s face is contagious, causing you to mirror it. You had only met his family a handful of times, only whenever they made the trip out to Denver every now and then. His sister’s, even if you didn’t talk to them regularly, were like your own at this point. JT loved to joke that you were the third sister he never wanted but still somehow ended up with. It was part of the reason he was always trying to set you up with his friends, because to him, if he already knew them, then he knew he trusted them with you. It was more of a joke when it first started over a year ago, but the guy’s he mentioned started to become more serious considerations on your end before you ended up always telling him no.
You were more than okay with being single, being independent, being a woman that never looked for male validation and instead lived life purely for yourself and the people you choose to include with you in that life. JT understood that more than anyone else, that’s why the thoughts you consistently had about Tyson were being shoved deep down inside of you in fear that JT would laugh at the idea and tell you not a chance in hell. It’s why those times you caught each other staring you never did anything about it, or how JT was still unbeknownst to the close friendship you started with him.
It’s why now there’s a silence between the two of you as you take a too-long sip of your wine, a way to stall before opening your mouth and getting JT’s opinion on all of this. You set your glass down on your thigh, your spare hand running along the stem of the glass as you start to speak, avoiding looking over at JT as you do so,
“You know how I don’t date or whatever,” you start, your lip caught between your teeth. You glance over at the redhead on the other couch, seeing him knit his eyebrows as he sets his phone down next to him.
“Yeah,” he draws out, confusion laced in his tone
“Well, I was thinking of maybe getting back out there or something,” you shrug your shoulders, unsure of how to really continue this conversation so you end up on the topic of Tyson being that someone you get back out there with.
“Did someone ask you out?” JT immediately asks with a shake of his head, wondering where all of this is coming from. His full attention is on you now and there’s no way to avoid his eyes as you respond.
“No, I was just thinking about it, I don’t know.”
“Did you, like, have someone in mind?” JT asks, the definitive knit in his forehead still there.
You purse your lips in thought. This would be the time to drop his teammate’s name you think to yourself. His name is heavy on your tongue as you take one more sip of your drink, “Tyson’s kinda cute.”
You say it simply, with a shrug in your shoulders, hoping the ease of your posture radiates towards JT. It doesn’t, just as you expect, a choked out cackle leaving his lips, before he says a harsh ‘no’. The comment deflates you, the knot in your stomach only tightening, mainly because you weren’t really asking him a question and just trying to get that thought out into the open for the first time. JT doesn’t read that as you respond back, telling him was just a thought anyways.
You drop it at that, thoughts running through your head of your close friendship with his teammate, one that’s very close to blurring that line between just friends and something more. It's a problem for another day you think, shoving the thought to the back of your mind as Tyson’s name flashes across your phone screen.
A few more weeks pass of Tyson and you hanging out at JT’s apartment, only for Tyson to follow you to your own apartment before he’d leave for the rink for his game. He slowly began going through his pre-game routine at your place, only to leave with JT under the guise that they would carpool together since his apartment building was on his way to Ball Arena.
Tyson’s cooking his pregame meal in your kitchen, something he had yet to do but when you had told him you had never eaten squash the other day, he made a point to make it his favorite way, even if it meant eating dinner at 4:30. His game day suit was hanging by his coat in your coat closet, you wouldn’t tell him but it was your favorite suit of his. The navy cashmere made the highlights in his dark brown hair pop out and was a nice contrast to his tan skin. He was taking the squash out of the oven, laughing as you made yet another comment on not knowing that was how a squash was cooked.
“What does a squash even taste like?” You ask, peering over the kitchen table to watch him as he places the pan onto the oven to cool down. The bright yellow and oranges of the fruit freak you out a bit, but the smell of garlic and parmesan cheese brings a smile to your face.
“It’s like earthy and nutty, I don’t know. I’m not a Food Network chef.”
The comment has you rolling your eyes with a laugh as you stand up from your chair to retrieve plates and silverware.
“What are you doing?” Tyson asks with a whip of his head as his eyes follow your movements.
You look at him quizzically, pausing your movements on your tippy toes as you reach for the dinner plates, “setting the table?”
“I can do that,” Tyson starts, reaching out for the plates in your hand and setting them on the counter in front of you. “I’m the one cooking.”
“Exactly,” you reason, “And this is my apartment so I know where everything is.”
“I’m wining and dining you, well minus the wine since I have a game.” Tyson shrugs, tending to the squash on the pan and the veggies surrounding it. “That reminds me, the guys are going out after the game, you should come.”
You move around the kitchen as he speaks, filling up two glasses of water to set on the table. He plates the food as he finishes speaking and sets them on the table. It looks colorful and delicious and you’re shocked he can cook something that seems so complicated, especially since you know JT can only cook a burger and some random pasta dish.
“Well, I am going to the game so I don’t see why not,” you finally answer. You hadn’t gone out in weeks it seemed like, mainly due to your earlier than normal mornings and that you were the only single one out of most of your friends. All of your coworkers lived with their partners and were usually the type to bail on a night out so they could stay home. The few single friends you did have lived on completely different schedules than you, so they were either getting home late from work which was around the same time you’d need to call it a night, or were like you and too worried about early mornings to do anything.
But it was a Thursday, and you had taken the weekend off so it was a perfect time to catch your first Avs game of the season, even if it was already a few days into March and the season was halfway over. The both of you eat your dinner with a few laughs, Tyson telling you about how he forced himself to learn to cook over the past two years of living by himself. He even shared a few horror stories of when he lived with JT and Kerf, giving you plenty of dirt to use as blackmail if necessary.
“Dinner was really good, thank you,” you acknowledge standing up and grabbing his plate from him.
“You liked the squash, eh?”
“It wasn’t too bad,” you reply playfully. He knew you liked it with how quickly you scarfed it down and the profuse compliments you offered him. As you clear off the dishes and load the dishwasher, Tyson disappears down the hall only to reappear dressed in his suit, save for the jacket and tie.
“Who are you sitting with tonight? I never asked.” Tyson speaks, making the job of tying his tie look easy as he’s not even looking in the mirror to do so.
“Oh, my coworker, Amelia, and her girlfriend, Gabby,” you respond, leaning back against the counter as you watch Tyson finish up with the details of his suit like putting his cufflinks on and checking his hair in the mirror by your front door.
For a reason Tyson knows too well but ignores, a weight falling off his shoulders as he hears you saying you’re not going with a potential date. But then again, he knows you’re not dating and you more than likely would’ve declined his offer to go out afterward if that were the case. Tyson checks his watch for the time, seeing it’s about time to knock on JT’s door to grab him.
“So, I’ll see you after the game, yeah?”
“Yep, I’ll meet you and JT down by the locker rooms so we can all head out together. Maybe I’ll finally get to meet the infamous Cale.”
The Avs scoot by with a tough division win, one that’s needed to put them in first place in the Central by two points. You’re standing in the hallway of the locker rooms among the other WAG’s that you don’t really recognize due to your lack of knowledge on who’s who. Your nose is buried deep in your phone as you shoot off a text to Amelia telling her to let you know when she gets home safely when you recognize Tyson’s familiar Canadian accent followed by JT’s booming laughter. The two of them reach you, both of them giving you quick hugs before walking to the parking garage.
“Who’s jersey you got on there?” Tyson asks with a nudge of his shoulder into yours. You look down at the 19 stitched into your shoulder with a smirk.
“Only the best Av to ever play the game,” you respond, to which JT rolls his eyes. Tyson’s look of confusion doesn’t change as you answer, still pretty keen to the fact that you’ve never really talked hockey with him besides the stories about practices he’d share with you. “Never told you I didn’t like hockey, just said I never went to games.”
“I’ve tried to get her one of my jerseys and she literally told me she’d return it,” JT interrupts before Tyson can respond. You open your mouth to chirp him back but before you can, JT is calling shotgun once Tyson’s car is in view.
The bar isn’t as packed as you thought it would be, given half of the Avalanche roster was occupying more than a few booths. Andre takes a seat across from where you’re sandwiched between JT and Tyson - a seating arrangement you’re not sure how you got in.
The first round of drinks slowly turns into the third, and you’re no longer squished between two bruly hockey players since JT has found a home at the pool table with Nate and Naz. You had finally met Cale, the blush on cheeks matching Tyson’s description of them. You shared book recommendations with one another while Tyson had wandered off to the bar. It’s then you learn that Tyson’s kind of taken him under his wing, despite the very small age gap and that they live in the same building. Your eyes catch him as he chats with the bartender and a dirty blonde that’s close to his height that you very much did not recognize.
She’s all legs and has an award winning smile from what you see from fifteen away. Tyson’s turned away from you, his back facing you, and if you could see his face filled with that smile that’s showing he’s just trying to be polite to the stranger.
It’s then that you start to fully allow yourself to notice not only the physical attraction you feel towards your new friend, but the emotional one as well. It’s not overwhelming by any means, but the pit in your stomach can only be described as jealousy — a feeling you don’t have much experience with.
You see two new glasses being set in front of them at the same time, assuming that Tyson had bought the stranger a drink. That pit in your stomach only tightens, the smile on your face from Cale’s story falling as you continue to watch them interact.
The pair only talk for a few minutes before the girl walks away, a defeated look on her face. With he departure, you make your way across the hardwood floor to meet him at the bar, nudging his side lightly as you mirrored his stance. He smiled as you greeted him, noting that this was the first time in hours he got you all to himself. You were just as outgoing as he and JT were, always butting into conversations when you had something to say.
“I never asked if you had fun at the game,” he asks, voice somehow still soft even in the loudness of the bar. His voice raises goosebumps on your arms, as you hum before responding.
“It was fun, definitely a good game, just a little too much third wheeling for my liking but I’ll take what I can get.”
The comment is a nod to the feeling Tyson knows all too well, one the two of you seem to always share funny stories about with a dramatic use of eye rolls. You ignore the fact that not even a few minutes prior you were plotting that girl’s death, too busy and entranced with Tyson’s presence.
The night continues to pass with just the two of you in your own little world. You find yourself up on your tiptoes, an arm resting on his muscular bicep as you lean up to speak into his ear. His lips move alongside your temple as he speaks, the scruff of his beard against your forehead causing you to giggle. You’re not even sure if JT or any of the other guys are even still around, but your bubble pops as JT calls your name. You turn your body towards the ginger, your hand on Tyson’s bicep not moving as he says that you two should find an Uber soon.
“Okay, yeah, sure. I’ll be out in a sec, Tyson was just telling me a story,” you let him know. JT knits his eyebrows at the comment but walks outside with a few of the other guys all heading home.
“How are you getting home?” You ask Tyson once you’re face to face with him again.
“Cale and I are gonna Uber back, too,” Tyson answers, his tongue swiping over his lips slowly. Your eyes watch his movement as time seems to slow down as the two of you keep your eyes focused on the others. His eyes are squintier than normal from the alcohol and you’re yours match his in that regard. You’re pretty sure he’s about to kiss you and for once, you’re actually going to let that person kiss you.
Tyson’s eyes flick behind you momentarily before you see his body semi-deflate. He steps away, your hand falling off his bicep for the first time in at least an hour as he picks up his blazer that’s draped over the stool next to him and nods towards the door.
“I think JT’s looking for you.”
Sure enough when you turn around, JT is in the doorway waving his phone in the air and pointing at it, silently telling you that the Uber is almost here. Your shoulders fall as the moment you were sure was about to happen is ruined. Tyson walks you out of the bar, into the brisk start of Spring air. You’re too busy thinking about how you most definitely would’ve let Tyson kiss you and next thing you know, your foot is slipping on the ice and you’re yelping in surprise.
Tyson catches your waist before you can even hit the cold pavement, and again, you’ve found yourself in a compromising position as Tyson’s face is mere inches from yours. You blink away the embarrassment as JT’s comment about your almost accident goes unnoticed by the both of you. You regather your stance, muttering a quiet thank you to the brunette before hugging him and waving goodbye with a soft smile.
“Dude,” Cale chastises, “You like her don’t you?”
The comment made by his building-mate has him stuttering over his words, trying to figure out an answer that’s not a straight up lie. Cale takes that as his answer, though, rolling his eyes with a heavy sigh as the two find their Uber.
“Does JT know?”
“No, because nothing’s going to happen,” Tyson answers curtly as he slumps his shoulders in his seat. “JT told me I couldn't try anything and I’m going to try and respect that. Besides, she doesn’t date so it’s not like I have a real shot or anything.”
“I don’t know, man. She seemed to jump out of her seat and end our conversation when she saw you talking to that girl.”
Cale’s comment silences the two of them for the remainder of the ride back to their building. Tyson hadn’t really paid mind to the fact that the second that girl left, you had appeared and stayed by his side for the remainder of the night. He brushes it off, blaming his inebriated mind for the overthinking before asking Cale how they’ll get his car in the morning.
Tyson wakes up to his phone dinging with a string of texts from you, a smile on his face when sees your name across his screen.
y/n: not sure what you did to me last night but this is the most hungover ive been in forever y/n: thank god i dont have work y/n: jt is still sleeping so im thinking of ditching him to go get breakfast y/n: you in? Tyson: im down Tyson: do you think we could swing by to get my car from the bar too? was gonna have cale drive me but if you can that’d be great
Getting ready for breakfast feels all too real as you do your hair and pick out an outfit before finally brushing your teeth. You tap your fingers an obnoxious amount of times against your steering wheel as you drive to Tyson’s apartment, your lip stuck between your teeth as you softly sing along to the songs flowing through your speakers.
Sitting across from him in the diner feels a little bit suffocating, the events of last night replaying in your mind. The path your eyes follow tends to keep going to his lips before you realize what you’re doing and snapping them right back up to his eyes or to the coffee in your hand. Those lips you sure you were close to kissing last night. He orders some obnoxiously healthy omelette bowl with enough eggs and potatoes on it to feed a house of four, while you get classic french toast.
You don’t miss that opportunity to chirp him, the weight finally off your shoulders as you lighten the mood. Tyson never really caught onto your weirdness, thinking it was some side effect of your hangover.
“Is french toast your favorite food or something?” Tyson asks, mouth a little full as he finishes chewing. You knit your eyebrows in confusion, partly because yes, it is your favorite breakfast food, but why would he think that if he’s only ever seen you eat it right now in this very moment? He sees your confusion, answering your question before you can even ask it.
“You got french toast that one time we went out with JT and Sydney.”
“Oh, it is, actually,” it dawns on you then, even though that morning was over a month ago at this point. It’s sweet that he remembers that, your neck warming at his comment.
“It’s not a big deal,” Tyson shrugs, shoving another forkful of egg into his mouth. And shit, did you actually say that out loud to him? That misstep has your neck heating up even further as you take a large swig of your coffee, mainly so the large mug blocks your face from him.
“Besides,” Tyson starts with a heavy laugh. “You just about inhaled that from what I remember, so it has to be your favorite.”
You drop your jaw in shock from his very true accusation, a slight laugh coming out, “You’re a dick.”
“Hey, at least I’m a dick that paid for your meal,” Tyson acknowledges in a lighthearted tone. You smile at him at that, him sending you one right back. “And before you say you can pay for this one, this is that meal I promised you a while back when we made brownies.”
It dawns on you then, was this a date? Did you accidentally on purpose ask Tyson out on a date? Tyson can sense the wheels turning in your head and drops that topic, instead telling you all about this new artist he’s found on Spotify.
That day’s a turning point for your relationship with Tyson. You end up following him back to his place then, a strange sense of deja vu coming through. The rest of the day is spent shaking your respected hangovers on his couch, your feet perched on his lap, his body naturally leaning towards yours.
Your head’s full of what ifs as you drive the short way back to your apartment, thoughts surrounding the feelings you’ve been ignoring when it comes to why Tyson looks at you the way he does or why he’s always sending you Tik Tok’s about your newfound inside jokes. Your friendship with him is easy, he’s an easy guy to catch feelings for and an even easier guy to fully allow yourself to do that with.
The thought of your friendship with JT clouds your thoughts, though. Unsure of what you should even do considering how quickly he shot you down when all you said was that his friend was cute. You don’t think much of it, knowing that the feelings that are starting to show need to be reciprocated for you to even face that next set of problems.
Soon you’re catching yourself focusing on the number 17 jersey skating around the ice instead of 37 when you have the time to watch their games. Tyson’s eyes are the ones you’re always finding in a room and he’s the one always refilling your drink without a thought. He’s the one you text after a particularly rough day, and he does the same when the Avs snap their eight game winning record. He’s slowly taking that spot as your best friend over from his teammate, a spot you’re sure is slowly turning into more.
It’s another one of those nights where he’s the one you're constantly looking for. This time back at Andre’s apartment with the guys and few significant others as you celebrate yet another Avalanche playoff berth.
You’re drinking far less than the crowd surrounding you, fully buzzed on the atmosphere that is clinching the number one seed in the division with still so much time left in the season. Unlike the group of people that have the day off the next day, you have work, but the thought of missing this night for your two best friend’s wasn’t an option when Tyson texted you as soon as he made it to the locker room after the game was won. Tyson’s hand seems to never be empty, but you soon learn he’s been nursing the same beer since he got to Andre’s. There’s a heavy feeling of contentment washing over him as he celebrates his fourth straight playoff appearance, alongside setting a Central Division record for the fastest team to clinch.
The air between you two has that same fuzzy feeling it’s had for a few weeks now, ever since you had gone out to breakfast with him hungover. The high from the win still filling his veins, that same high radiating towards you as you continually find your way back to his side throughout the night.
Tyson catches you slipping out the door as the sun is just about finished setting and follows you a moment later. You’re leaning against the railing with your arms folded atop of it. It’s the easiest thing in the world for Tyson to step in behind you and place his hands on either side of yours, bracketing you against the cool metal.
The wind blows through your hair, causing you to push some strands back behind your ears as you breathe heavily with Tyson’s new presence.
“You doing alright out here?”’ Tyson asks, one of his laying to rest on top of yours, you fingers interlocking with his.
“Yeah, just wanted to take advantage of Andre’s view,” you respond. Andre’s place had everything, the view of downtown Denver, the suburbs stretching outside of the skyscrapers, but he also had the best view of the mountains you had seen from a complex downtown.
The silence continues between the two of you, the sound of the Denver traffic beneath you filling it out. Tyson’s chest moves behind you with a heavy breath before breaking that silence,
“I talked to my mom this morning.”
“Yeah? How is she?”
“She’s good, but, uh, I called her to tell her about this girl,” he trails off, his chest inflating behind you again as the nerves start to tighten in his stomach. You remain silent, there’s an unspoken understanding that this is something he’s been wanting to get off his chest, something that you too feel the weight of.
“I wanted to tell her about this girl and ask her for advice because it’s complicated since she’s best friends with my best friend who’s also my teammate and I didn’t know if I should put my feelings aside for the sake of my friendship or if I shouldn’t let my friend telling me I couldn’t ask her out stand in the way of my feelings for her.”
Your breath hitches in your throat, the sudden knowledge of the weight his words have. His grip around you had tightened as he spoke, causing you to turn around in his arms slower than you would’ve liked to as your eyes find his. His hands move from the railing to rest on your hips, his grip a little tight yet still soft. Your fingers toy with the hem of his cotton t-shirt, one that accentuates his arms more than you’d like to admit.
You’re not naive, you know that this is that tipping point in your friendship that you’ve been avoiding, yet at the same time anxiously waiting for. He’s right there in front of you, all wide eyed with that playful little glimmer in his eyes and that smile that’s always plastered on his face when he’s with you. It’s the confidence in his smile as he speaks that contradicts the doubt in his eyes and the understanding he has where he knows he needs to take this all slow. He’s not just trying to win you over or get you to bed, he’s trying to show you that he’s what you deserve, that the feelings brewing inside your stomach are two sided.
All of those things are conveyed in the little things and how he hasn’t made any unwarranted moves on you and how he’s always reading the situation before trying anything.
It makes you truly let the feelings you have bubble to the surface as you open your mouth to finally respond, “I don’t think you should ignore your feelings.”
It comes out as a whisper, one where the breaths of air hit Tyson in the chin from how close you two are standing. Nothing else needs to be said, your heart racing in your chest at that first admittance of feelings. Tyson searches your eyes for any sense of doubt, making sure he’s interpreting your words correctly. His hand moves to the junction of your neck, his thumb brushing against the hollow of your cheek. Your hands trail up his sides, brushing the stray curl that’s fallen onto his forehead back in place. He leans into your touch, his nose softly brushing against yours as you close your eyes. His breath fans over your mouth and the hair on his upper lip tickles you before his lips are landing on yours. It’s slow and soft and full of fire as you kiss him back.
You pull apart breathless a few moments later, a smile on your face as you bite your lip. His smile is wider than yours, a sense of smugness behind it. His lips find their way to your forehead, placing a soft, lingering kiss there as he wraps his arms around your body and pulls you tightly to him. A few more heavy breaths are shared before his fingers trail back to your jaw, his thumb running over your bottom lip before pulling you in for another kiss.
His touches are welcome and the chill you felt earlier is gone with his presence, your stomach tightening in a million knots at the man standing before you. Everything he feels is portrayed in his soft eyes and those several moments over the past couple of months where it was just the two of you, getting to know one another much more than you thought you ever would with one of JT’s teammates. The space he gave you as he let you explain your fascination with living the life you did, one with no obsession with social media or what other people thought and one where you carefully curated the people you choose to surround yourself with.
Tyson had slowly worked his way into your heart, one that now had his name written all over it. You smile at the thought, still lost in chocolatey, brown eyes and the way he’s looking at you like the gorgeous view of the Smoky Mountains isn’t right behind you.
“We should go back inside,” you say, breaking the little bubble the two of you had just created. Tyson understands, knowing where the two of you were, knowing who’s just on the other side of the door. Neither of you make any moves to go back inside, and you bask in the cool weather, enjoying the other’s warmth before finally opening the door to the rowdiness that is a bunch of professional hockey players.
JT beckons for you when he sees you come back inside, too drunk to ask where you’ve been for the past fifteen minutes. He’s dragging you to the kitchen, begging you with his eyes to make the room a round of drinks. Tyson smiles at you from a few feet away, silently telling you he’ll find you eventually. He does, making his way to you when everyone’s drink needs are met, his presence causing your stomach to tighten even if he is standing a few feet away from you.
Both of you lay off the drinks for the rest of the night, already tipsy enough from your drinks earlier and in a silent agreement that there’s more to talk about between the two of you once the crowd thins and everyone's on their way home. JT disappears into thin air it seems like until he’s practically yelling that he’s called an Uber for you two.
“I think I’m actually gonna stay for a little longer,” you answer, eyes drifting over to where Tyson is talking with Cale and Andre. He sees you glance over at him, sending a smile right back your way causing you to blush before telling JT he’s fine to head home and that you’ll text him when you get home.
The room starts to clear out after that, Andre’s front door opening and closing every few minutes as Uber’s are called and before you know it you’re in the back of a Kia Sorento, laughing at the lie Tyson told Cale that led to him getting an Uber by himself and your hands tightly intertwined on your lap.
You find out a few months later that he didn’t lie, he just told him that he had finally gotten the nerve to kiss you.
The elevator ride up to his apartment is full of giggles, those giggles only continuing as he fumbles through unlocking his front door. He tells you to stop making fun of him under his breath, a blush spreading from the tips of his ears to his nose.
He’s pulling you inside once the door is unlocked, causing you to lose your balance from the pull. Your laughs quiet down as he stares down at you, that smile you're familiar with nowhere to be found as he licks his lips. He’s pulling you in with those big, brown eyes of his and then you’re kissing him wildly, barely a few feet into his home.
“We should talk about this,” you mutter against his lips, not fully wanting to break away from him. He’s connecting your lips before you can continue, too addicted to the feeling of finally having his lips on yours.
“What is there to talk about?”
“Us, what this is,” you respond between kisses.
Tyson pulls away this time, resting his forehead against yours. He knows the logistics of all of this needs to be worked out, but right now he doesn’t want to think about how he’s making out with JT’s neighbor or his inevitable murder if JT finds out before one of you can tell him.
“Let’s worry about the consequences tomorrow, because right now I can’t keep my hands off of you,” he reasons, dipping his head down to place his lips right below your jaw. “And if the way you’re kissing me is any sign, then I’d say we’re on the same page about how we feel.”
You moan as Tyson’s teeth nip at the skin, his tongue poking past his lips out onto your neck and goosebumps are popping up all along your skin.
You give into him then, too intoxicated in his warmth and the taste of Bud Light on his mouth. It’s a conversation for you in the morning when you’re both nursing your hangovers over a cup of coffee. Your lips move along his hungrily, his hands gripping your face before sliding down your sides and squeezing your ass through your jeans. You tug your fingers through the long curls behind his ears, him pushing you against the nearest wall with a thud and a rattle of a picture frame.
Your lips move along his softly, the passion and fire laced in it enough to cause a wave of electricity through your veins and down to in between your thighs. He’s towering over you with his big personality and his wide shoulders and you feel like you need to get impossibly closer to him as you pull him in by the fabric of his t-shirt. His hands fall to the wall on either side of your head.
“God, I’m never gonna stop kissing you,” Tyson huffs out, causing a quick chuckle to run through your body. It’s quick because as soon as the words are out of Tyson’s mouth, his lips are already back on yours.
“You’re gonna have to stop kissing me if you want to fuck me,” you mutter out, a sly smirk on your lips as you watch Tyson’s eyes grow darker at the insuination. The hands that were bracketing you against the wall slide down to your jaw, his thumb running over your bottom lip again before pushing past your lips. You keep your eyes on his as you suck on the digit, your tongue swirling around it. His resolve slips away from you for a moment, before his other hand drags down your side until his fingers push under your top, the warm fingers ghosting over the skin of your ribs.
His breath is heavy against you, the growing bulge causing his jeans to tighten around him. You’re feeling bold then, as you feel him against your stomach with his thumb still in your mouth and his hand tight around your jaw. He’s frozen in front of you as he watches your eyes, that stupid smirk finally wiped off his face as your hands move under his shirt, your nails scraping against the tight muscles. You hold back both a comment about his abs and a moan at the feeling, all the hard work he’s put into his body clearly paying off as you push his shirt up his chest and over his head.
Your nails drag back down his chest and torso before looping in the waistband of the boxers peeking out from his jeans. His thumb falls from your mouth, the wet digit leaving a trail of your saliva on your chin as you work on pulling his jeans down. His head tips back with a low groan as his member springs free and you sink down to your knees, his hand finding purchase on the back of your head while the other is used to brace himself against the wall.
Tyson sucks in a breath as your hand reaches out to grip the base of his cock, tugging softly a few times as you lick the tip. His mouth waters at the sight of your lips wrapping around the head, your eyes looking right back up at him. You hum around him as you swallow him down, the vibrations causing a groan to escape from Tyson’s mouth. He feels euphoric, even if you haven’t had your mouth on him for more than 60 seconds. His hips involuntarily thrust forward at the wet feeling your mouth gives as you hollow your cheeks around him.
Tyson continued to moan above you as you moved your mouth along him, both of your hands digging into the flesh of his thighs. Tyson’s hand is heavy on the back of your head, not using it to push you deeper onto him, but to ground him as he starts to see stars embarrassingly fast in his eyes.
He pulls you off him then, pulling you up to your feet to stand in front of him once again. There’s a dribble of saliva mixed with his pre-cum on your chin and he wipes it away with his thumb before pulling you in for another harsh kiss. He pushes the two of them to his bedroom, never breaking the kiss as he sheds your shirt and pushes you down onto his bed. You giggle again, the hunger in his eyes all too real as he crawls over your body until he’s hovering over you.
“You’re so fucking beautfiul,” he whispers into your ear, causing shivers to shoot down your body. He runs his hands along your bare sides up to your breasts as he kisses down your neck. His hands brush along your lace covered nipples, making you sharply inhale a breath and arch your back against him. He pulls the fabric down to expose your breasts, his lips still nipping at the skin on your collarbone. He looks down at you again, a sensual look in his eyes that you mirror. His lips attach to one of your nipples, the other being tended to by his fingers as twists and pulls the bud between his thumb and forefinger.
Your hands find purchase in the curls atop his head, pulling at the strands as he breathes a huff of cool air onto your npple before switching to the other one. He makes his way down your body painfully slow, a trail of kisses being left down your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your jeans. He tugs them off just as quickly as he stripped you from your shirt, his eyes locking on the sage green thong you’re wearing and the very obvious wet patch between your legs. He’s impatient from the brief blowjob you gave him and the fact that he’s been imaging this exact moment for far too long now. His fingers dip into the strap of your underwear, his eyes finding yours and asking if this is okay. You respond with a resounding yes as he pulls the underwear off of you.
His lips leave kisses along your thighs, throwing them over his shoulders as his mouth finally makes his way to your center. His beard is rough against the skin of your thighs, a sensation only causing you to whine as he breathes over your clit.
“Tyson,” you whine, causing him to smirk before pressing his tongue to your entrance. The cool, wetness of his tongue has you catching your breath and fisting the sheets underneath you. Tyson moaned against you at the taste as he licked over you a few more times. His lips wrap around your clit, this time causing a full, throaty moan to release from your mouth. One of your hands found its way to his head, holding him impossibly closer to you, the other finding his hand as he interlocks your fingers together.
His tongue dives into your opening, fucking into you as his other arm wraps around your thigh so he can rub his thumb at your clit. His tongue licked around you entrance, alternating between that and fucking into you. His thumb stayed on your clit, rubbing circles hoping to get you to that tipping point, the one you felt nearing with every pass of his tongue over you. Your back arched off the bed, your hips pushing further into Tyson’s face as you felt your high near. Tyson continued at the same pace, pushing you over the edge as you moaned out his name.
He continued to lick softly at you, his thumb slowing down on your clit as he lifted his head up to kiss at your collarbone. The kisses he leaves along your inner thighs gives you time to catch your breathing, your chest still heaving from your orgasm. It’s short lived as his thumb on your clit slides down to your entrance, spreading your wetness around before pushing a finger into you.
His lips make their way back to your clit with the same smirk he had on his face a few minutes ago, wrapping his lips around the bud as he moves he added another finger. You clench down him at the feeling, moans and heavy breaths of air escaping your mouth as Tyson worked his fingers against your g-spot and his mouth worked over your clit. Your hand squeezes his, the pressure becoming too much so soon after your first orgasm. It doesn’t take long for you to groan out his name again as you clench down on his fingers, your second orgasm rushing through you.
He stays down there a moment longer, but you pull him up by his hair, just wanting his lips on yours and his body hovering over you. His beard is wet from both his spit and your juices, and it has you licking your lips and craning your neck upwards. You pull him in with both of your hands, licking into his mouth and tasting yourself on him.
The kiss is heavy, his hands running along your body trying to memorize every dip and curve, the heavy weight of his member on your hip. His curls tickled your forehead, the kiss turning soft as he splayed a hand on your cheek to pull you in tighter. The head of his dick brushed over your mound, a shiver running through you at the feelings, your hips bucking up towards his with a small whine.
You reach your hand down between your bodies to tug on him softly, a whine leaving Tyson’s lips, one that’s swallowed by your kisses. It’s unspoken between the two of you as pulls away from you, only to push your hand away from him and give himself a few tugs as he settles heavily between your thighs.
You share a look, one that’s gleeful and full of smiles as he licks his lips and slowly pushes into you. You moan and whimper at the feeling of him inside of you, your hands clawing at his shoulder blades to pull his body flush against your own.
“You good?” He asks, referring to if you’re ready for him to start moving.
“Yeah,” you whine, looking into his eyes smiling, “I’m good.”
There’s a pause as you answer, both of you understanding the double-meaning behind your answer. It’s more than just telling him you feel good physically, but that you feel more than that when he’s with you.
He leans in to kiss you again, starting a slow pace as he thrusts into you. He moaned out at how tight you were, how well you were taking him as he kissed you. He picked up his pace, thrusting into you harder and faster, with more purpose as he rested on his elbows above you, looking into your eyes. You always got lost in those eyes of his, as he hit your g-spot you tilted your head back, your eyes fluttering closed. They weren’t closed for long as Tyson grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him once again.
“I wanna look at you,” he muttered as he leaned back down to kiss you. Your moans filled the room as the layer of sweat started to thicken on your bodies, his chest rubbing against yours. He lifted your thigh and pushed it against your chest, the new angle causing the knots to tighten in your stomach as you felt you high nearing. Your lips found their way to his neck and down to the dips of his collarbone. Biting down into the flesh as you moan out again, Tyson’s pace quickening as he feels you clenching around him.
“I’m so close,” you moan out, Tyson hitting you deeply. He could feel himself getting close too, his hips starting to stutter as he moved inside of you. Your breasts bouncing as he pounds into you, your eyes screwing shut as your orgasm starts to wash over you. Tyson swallows your moans as he kisses you through your third orgasm.
His breaths are heavy as his orgasm comes soon after yours, spilling into you as he slows his pace down and gently lowers his body weight onto yours. You two stay like that for a few moments, catching your breaths and basking in that post-sex afterglow. He removes himself once you’ve both settled, a whimper leaving your mouth at the newfound emptiness. He disappears to his bathroom, coming right back with a washcloth as he cleans you up. You thank him as he runs the cool, wet cloth over the insides of your thighs, pulling him back for another quick kiss before he disappears into the bathroom once more.
When he gets back, he lays down next to you, pulling your body snug against his. His chest is warm and still a little sticky from the sweat. Your fingers draw aimless patterns along his bare chest, his lips leaving a soft kiss on your forehead and you feel the upturn of his lips when he pulls away. You smile up at him then, leaning up and puckering your lips, asking for a kiss. He obliges with a soft hum and rubs your arm gently before you’re falling asleep against him, a few drops of drool falling onto his chest.
The morning rolls around too quickly for your liking, the curls on Tyson’s head ticking the back of your neck. Neither of you are in a rush to move as he smiles against the bare skin of your back, a few kisses being placed there as you hum and hold his arms tighter to your torso. He’s up from bed moments later, a sweet kiss lingering on your lips as you watch his naked form emerge from bed and pull on a pair of sweats. Your eyes watch over the ripples of muscles between his shoulder blades, down his back and over his ass before he’s running around his apartment in search of your thong.
He remerges with it draped over his finger, a smirk on his lips before he flings it at you, causing a giggle to erupt from your stomach. You pull them on, a large t-shirt being tossed your way to drape over your shoulders. You follow him out to his kitchen then, a small pit in your stomach at the realization of the conversation that needs to be had, the small bubble you’re in at its popping point.
You jump onto his island counter, the coolness of the granite sending shivers down your bare legs, his back to you as he starts the coffee pot. He’s just in a pair of sweats, bright red lines on display on his back. You squeeze your legs together as you cross them, the actions of your late night antics running vividly through your mind.
He presses the warm mug into your hands, his now free hand pushing open your legs to step between them. He’s so close then, probably the closest you’ve really been to him with a sober brain. The heat from his torso radiates towards you, warming not only your skin but your insides as well as you smile at him. He’s still got that wide, goofy smile plastered on his face, the one you’ve grown to love and to look forward to seeing.
Tyson’s hands move to rest on the counter on either side of you, the close proximity between your faces causes you to set your mug down and move your hands to his shoulders.
“What’s going through your mind, pretty girl?” The new pet name has you mentally squealing, your chest tightening as your cheeks heat up.
“Just how last night I was so adamant to talk about everything, but now I’m not so sure I want to break our little bubble,” you start, the huff of breath air coming out softly as you avoid his eye contact, even if he is a few inches away from your face.
It’s hard to concentrate on relaying your feelings to him and fully opening up to a man for the first time in a long time with him standing right there in front of you, in all his shirtless glory — the defined lines of his pecs and abs, the veins protruding from his arms, and the few purple bruises you’d left on the dips of his collarbones. It’s always been hard to think straight around him, you realize, with the way his presence gives you a comforting buzz and that warm, fuzzy feeling in your stomach.
Tyson’s quiet as he watches over you, he licks his lips in thought, a silent hum of agreement coming out. He’s in the exact same boat, the outcome of this conversation not one he’s too scared of, knowing that the way he feels is reciprocated, but rather what the next step is with the best friend you two share. He’s leaning closer into you, a small smile as he places another soft kiss on your lips. It’s one you get lost in, gentle and blissful as your lips move slowly against his. He pulls away first, something he wasn’t able to do last night, before finally being able to put his thoughts into words.
“I just want to make sure we’re on the same page with this. We’re taking a big risk doing this behind JT’s back and I want you to know, no matter what, the risk is worth it with you,” he starts, voice soft and still scratchy from the morning. “And I know you don’t date because you put yourself first and if that’s what you want to do then I’m okay with that, too.”
Your heart melts at the words, your hands cradling his face. Tyson’s always been better with words and feelings than you have over your short friendship with him. The metaphorical door is already wide open in front of you, it’s just a matter of taking that one more small step through it with Tyson, or shutting it and never turning back.
“I don’t date because most people don’t like having independent girls as their girlfriend’s. I put time into myself to be the best person I can be, not only for myself but for others and they don’t like that stuff,” you start to explain, your hands falling from his face to hold both of his hands. “I like you, a lot, Tys, and I want to be with you.”
He smiles wildly at that, the doubt draining from his eyes as he opens his mouth to respond.
You interrupt him though, with a huff of air as you continue speaking, “But JT’s my best friend and I don’t want to hurt him either.”
And Tyson fully understands where you’re coming from, because he’s been struggling with that for the past few months ever since he met you. He thinks back to that conversation on the plane all that time ago and how JT firmly told him to not try anything, but now as he really thinks about it, he’s not sure he meant it because of him and that it was more so because he cared for you and didn’t want to see you get hurt in general.
You can see in his eyes that same wide open door you’re thinking about, the one where you get to explore a relationship with the quirky, optimistic, competitive guy in front of you. The guy that matches your level of confidence as you, the guy that lets you be stubborn and lets you live out that stubbornness because he’s the most patient person you’ve ever met.
The decision’s easy as he stands in front of you, putting the ball in your court, your lip caught between your teeth. He’s waiting for you then, waiting for you to walk through that door or close it and walk out of his apartment. He’s hopeful, knowing that last night wasn’t a fluke and that all the kisses you’ve already shared are real and full of passion and those feelings you’ve been dancing around.
That’s when you give in, wrapping your legs around his torso and pulling him into you with that toothy smile of yours as you place your lips on his hungrily. It’s a kiss full of teeth as he smiles against you, his hands coming to cradle your face as you kiss. It’s much more addicting now that you’re sober and you fully agree with Tyson’s comment from last night about how he’s never going to want to stop kissing you.
You decide later that day that there’s no rush in telling JT, instead opting to see how things go between the two of you for a few weeks. Those two weeks are full of plenty of quality time, a coincidental home stand falling during that time meaning you get him to yourself before facing the reality that is how much he travels. You’re sure you can handle everything the new relationship can throw at you, the honeymoon phase lasting long as the two of you skirt around how you’ll tell JT whenever that time comes.
“I need to leave now if I want to leave for the rink and not see JT,” Tyson warns, prying away from your warm body in bed. You whined in response, wanting to have his warmth for just a little while longer. You let him escape from your grasp, only after asking for one too many kisses. You follow him out into your kitchen, watching him as he pulls on his shoes and finds his keys.
“You sure I can’t get you to stay for at least a cup of coffee?” You muse, giving it one more shot to spend time with him before your work week starts. You make your way to where he’s lingering in your entryway, looking extra cozy with his hood over his messy head of curls. You wrap your arms around his middle, slipping your hands under the cotton of his hoodie to feel his skin against yours.
He leans down to place a soft kiss on your lips, giggling when you follow him as he pulls away, “I really need to get going.”
“Fine,” you hum. “I’ll see you when you get back from Dallas?”
Tyson nods his head with a hum in answer, finally pulling open your front door to get to his car downstairs in the garage without running into JT. But luck isn’t on his side this morning and he gives you one more goodbye hug and kiss in the doorway before shutting the door behind him and coming face to face with a certain redheaded teammate a few feet down.
JT’s eyebrows are knitted as he takes his key out of the lock. His mouth opens a few times in confusion before any words come out. “What was that?”
Tyson doesn’t think he’s ever been at such a loss for words as he is right now. He looks between the door he just shut and his friend a few times, trying to wrap his brain around what this scene looks like. It’s not even 8:30 in the morning on Sunday, and to anyone, this looks like the start of a walk of shame.
“Uh, y/n and I were hanging out and we fell asleep so she let me sleep in her guest room,” Tyson lies. He hopes it’s convincing, his voice didn’t waver but his hands flailed around a little more than normal when he talks and he scratched his beard, something he always does when he’s nervous.
“I’m pretty sure I just saw you kiss her,” JT explains, voice stern as he completely turns to look at Tyson. “And you don’t just kiss people goodbye.”
Tyson stumbles over an explanation for that, no logical reason coming to mind.
“You were just kissing y/n!” JT exclaims, a rise in his voice as he starts to fill in the blanks. Now he’s starting to connect the dots of your tendency to bail on him on the nights you’d normally hang out and Tyson’s lack of interest in guys’ night or after game celebrations with the team. The giggling he would hear through the wall late at night, the girly squeals, and the few times he remembered hearing the bedpost hit against your shared wall a little too hard for his liking. “You just fucking kissed my best friend after I told you to not get involved with her!”
Tyson moves to close the distance between him and his best friend, but JT takes one back, effectively cancelling it out. Tyson’s opening and closing his mouth, trying to figure out the best course of action for this premature conversation. The two of you had just figured everything out in the past few days, telling JT about your newfound relationship hadn’t even come up in conversation yet.
“How long has this been going on for?”
“Barely two weeks,” Tyson stutters out, watching as JT’s face fills with more anger. “Comph, just let me explain,” he tries again, but JT just shakes his head and heads for the doorway for the stairwell instead of the elevator. It’s a huge flight of stairs given that he lives on the 11th floor of the building. He wants to follow his friend, but knows that space is what he needs and instead presses the button for the elevator and gets in, leaving him alone in his thoughts.
When he meets up with him at the rink, JT’s still avoiding him which is hard considering their stalls are only separated by one other in the locker room. Cale hadn’t even made it to the rink yet, so someone wasn’t even there to put up a wall between the two. Gabe takes notice as he walks around the room after taping his ankles, his eyebrows knitting at the fact that Tyson, who’s normally cheery even this early in the morning and bugging JT, is putting on his pads and skates with his mouth shut.
It’s something Gabe puts in the back of his mind, just thinking that Tyson had a rough night or morning. It’s during morning skate that Gabe, and almost everyone else, notices something is off between the pair. JT doesn’t chirp him like normal when they take face-offs against one another, he’s not by his side in between drills, and JT sticks his stick out a little too far during a one-on-one, sending Tyson to the ice during a drill that no one should be falling during. Bednar thinks nothing of it, just telling Tyson to stay on his two feet.
Practice eventually ends but the silent treatment between the two continues. JT’s uncharacteristically quiet to everyone that talks to him, something clearly on his mind. Meanwhile Tyson’s nerves are causing him to not shut up as Cale shares a story about his rough commute this morning.
As Tyson and Cale quiet down, Gabe steps in, pointing between the two of them, “What’s up with you two today?”
“Nothing,” Tyson lies quickly, not wanting anyone else to get involved in this. Even if their captain is just trying to help, Tyson’s not sure there’s anything Gabe can say to help.
JT scoffs, tying his shoes before standing up, “He’s fucking my best friend.” Cale, who was taking him leisurely time with getting dressed suddenly stands up and crosses the room to where Gravy was, avoiding any possible conflict.
Gabe’s eyes pop out of his head as Tyson responds, “we’re not fucking.”
“So the banging into my wall last night wasn’t you?” JT asks in an accusatory tone.
“Well, we’re not like,” Tyson starts, gesturing his hands in front of his body in a way to finish that sentence, soon realizing he doesn’t want to add fuel to fire by saying he was in fact fucking his best friend last night. “It’s not just that, we’re together.”
Gabe, who thought this was probably a misunderstanding of one of Tyson’s pranks or even just JT not winning a stupid bet, is just as shocked as JT was a few hours agao when he saw two of his best friends kissing. The captain isn’t entirely sure of how to navigate this situation, one that hasn’t really happened in any of his locker rooms. He doesn’t have much else to say to the two of them other than to figure it out and that a girl shouldn’t get between two friends that are as close as they are.
With that, Tyson’s trying to apologize to JT, tell him that there’s more to the story but JT wants nothing of it, and is throwing his jacket on and running out the door. Everything in Tyson’s being wants to follow him back to his place and beg for him to hear him out, but instead he’s racing back to your place, ignoring the fact that he still has to pack for their quick road trip.
Tyson all about sprints up the 11 flights of stairs to your door, knocking on your door with urgency until the door swings open. You move to the side as you let him in, clearly seeing how frantic he is with his flushed cheeks and the excessive knocking.
“JT saw me leave this morning,” Tyson lets out, a little out of breath from his run up the stairs. Tyson’s waiting for you to respond but you’re still not getting it. “He saw me kiss you goodbye and then didn’t talk to me all practice then when Landy confronted us he was just like ‘Tyson’s fucking my best friend’ and I tried to explain but-”
“Tys,” you interrupt his rambling, taking a step forward to reach out to him. Your hands grab his in an attempt to ground him, your thumbs rubbing back and forth on the back of his hands. “It’ll be okay.”
“He literally tripped me in practice today!”
“That’s because he can be a petty asshole. He doesn’t hate you, he probably just feels betrayed because he didn't know any of this was going on.” You try to console him, pushing all of your anxieties and paranoia aside to deal with the panicking boy in front of you.
“Let me talk to him, you need to go home and pack for your road trip since I know you haven’t yet.”
“But,”
“I’ll come over right after and update you, I promise.”
WIth that, Tyson kisses you goodbye as you push him to the elevator with a promise that everything is going to be okay before giving yourself a pep talk and bursting into JT’s apartment next to yours.
He spots you before you can greet him and you can see quite a few different feelings crossing over his face.
“Oh, God, are you here to also tell me that you’re not just fucking my best friend, too?” JT scoffs, causing your heart to plummet into your ass. “I really don’t want to listen to any excuses you may have about this.”
“Stop being an asshole for just one second and let me explain,” you reprimand him, already over the fact that your so-called best friend won’t even hear you out. “How is this any different from the countless times you tried to set me up with your friends? Is this not the same thing?”
It’s a genuine question that shuts up JT, because really, it’s not much different in your eyes. For over a year now, JT’s been showing you pictures of buddies he has from back home or from college or even friends of friends that he’d think would suit you. You had always turned him down because to you, dating wasn’t something you wanted other people to really interfere with, even if some of his friends were young, successful, bachelor types.
“Because it’s Tyson,” JT answers simply with a shrug of his shoulders. You look at him, hands clenching at your sides with the vague and uninterested tone. He’s barely even looking at you as he tidies up his kitchen, something he always did when trying to fill silence.
“What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?” You ask incredulously. “You’ve told me a million times he’s one of the best people you’ve ever met.” You bite your tongue from adding a comment about how he is one of the best people you’ve also met.
“The other guys weren’t professional athletes, it’s pretty simple from how I see it.”
“But you could set me up with your friends from Chicago and New York and Michigan but I find one of your friends here in Denver then it’s off limits? Because he plays a sport for a living? If that’s the case then I shouldn’t be friends with you either.” It’s a low blow, you know that, but it finally catches his attention as he drops the cloth he’s wiping the counter with. His eyes finally connect with yours and it’s then he finally notices how hurt you are by the lack of emotion in both his words and his body language. There are tears in your eyes as you look up at the ceiling to try and even your breathing.
“It's an honor for anyone to have a place in my life JT and that includes you,” you continue. “Tyson understands that. He understands that I'm my own person before anything else but he’s still there when I'm stubborn. I've been single for so long and I truly know what I want, what I deserve to feel and I get that with him.”
You often don’t get this deep with the red head, but his lack of wanting to understand you has you emotional as you think of all the benefits of being with Tyson. The few months of being his friend were a perfect build up to the past few weeks of it being more, of sharing a life with someone else.
“You know him better than most people and if you can honestly tell me he’s no good for me right now then I’ll end it,” you suggest, your heart beating fast as you wait for an answer. JT has come to be one of your best friends in your life, even if he is just your neighbor, and at this moment it’s hard to think of putting a guy between you. Even if that guy is the first guy you’ve really felt this way towards.
“I’m not gonna tell you that,” JT admits with a heavy sigh. He makes his way across the room to you before continuing. “He’s my best friend, too, and if there’s anyone that knows everything about both of you, it’s me. I guess I just felt like you were hiding a secret from me and we don’t do that, ya know? I just wish you could’ve told me.”
You laugh snidely at that, “Do you not remember like two months ago when I told you I thought Tyson was cute and you shot that down before I was even done talking?”
The wheels turn and the light bulb goes off in JT’s brain as he remembers that conversation from a while back, “I won’t confirm nor deny that I said that.”
The both of you laugh lightheartedly at that, pulling him in for a much needed hug, both of you apologizing to the other. The weight on your shoulders is liften as he pulls away, thankful for the fact that you have such an understanding person for a best friend.
“You want to watch an episode of Psych? I think we can fit one in before I have to leave.”
You contemplate it, knowing that a few miles away Tyson is in his apartment panicking as he waits for some sort of update from you. You know you need to tell him how your conversation just went, but something inside you is telling you that JT needs you to spend time with him to normalize everything.
“Sure,” you smile, walking over to his couch and laying on it long ways, forcing JT to sit by himself in his chair. You pull out your phone to text Tyson, smiling as you type out an explanation.
y/n: just finished talking to jt y/n: everything’s good but i think i need to just hang out with him to make him feel better about everything tyson: you sure? y/n: yes, ill call you when he leaves for the airport💚
Everything gets sorted out when you call Tyson an hour later, calming his nerves as you give him a detailed play-by-play of everything that was said between you and JT. The comfortable silence before you hang up is almost filled with him telling you he loves you, but he knows he needs to talk to JT first and needs to tell you in person, and not over the phone as he boards a flight.
The flight was filled with awkward air as most of the guys saw what happened with Tyson and JT in the locker room when practice ended that morning, and even if they weren’t there for that, they felt the tension between them. It’s not until a few hours later when Tyson’s doing his hair before the game when he hears a knock on his hotel door.
He swings the door open to see JT, his hands shoved in his short pockets as he stares right back at Tyson.
“Can we talk?”
“Uh, yeah,” he responds nervously, stepping out of the way to let his friend through the door. The two of them awkwardly stand a few feet away, that meme about two straight guys sitting six feet away in a hot tub because they’re not gay going through Tyson’s brain.
“I, uh, wanted to apologize about everything earlier. I’ll admit, I overreacted a bit and I shouldn’t have tripped you in practice. It was just a lot to take in, especially because I didn’t really know that you two were that close. And I feel like a bad friend now for not knowing that.”
JT’s apology is way more than what Tyson thought he would get from his friend. He knew yours and his conversation went well, but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t scared JT was going to punch him or yell at him or literally anything that wasn’t an amicable conversation between two adults.
“It’s fine, man. It’s on us for keeping you in the dark on this one and I’m sorry for that. I think we barely knew what was going on until it was all happening,” Tyson starts to explain. He’s trying not to look at his feet, knowing that JT needs to see the feelings in his face, those feelings that are very much real to him.
“And it’s real for you? It’s not a game? Because I swear to God, Tyson.” JT darts, voice stern.
“God, no, this isn’t a game to me JT,” Tyson answers quickly, head shaking in disgust at the thought. “I’m not just trying to bag her and call it some accomplishment or whatever you think this is. If that was the case I wouldn’t even be having this conversation with you and you’d already hate me,” he shudders at those words, unable to ever think he could do any wrong to you. “You told me a while ago that it’s no bullshit with her and I know that because it isn’t for me either.”
JT takes a seat on the bed in the room as his friend speaks, taking it all in. It’s a lot for him to take in, but Tyson really is one of the best people he’s ever met and he has little to no doubt that he’s telling the truth about how he feels. If the tears brimming your eyes earlier in the day said anything, you feel the exact same way. The room is silent once Tyson is done talking, his nerves causing him to be quiet for once as JT figures out his next move.
“I hear one bad bad thing from y/n, then it’s over,” JT warns, Tyson nodding his head along in agreement. “And if the guys start talking about your sex life I will be cutting your dick off.”
“Got it.”
“Okay, now that that’s out of the way, how’d you get her to go for you? I’ve been trying to get her a guy for forever.”
“Easy, have you seen my charming smile?” Tyson jokes with that crooked smirk of his, happy to see that JT is already moving on from that heavy stuff and onto best friend stuff. JT rolls his eyes heavily at the joke, a light ‘shut up’ coming out as he laughs.
Tyson explains everything then, the same wide smile on his face he had when he scored his first hat trick. He tells JT about how he wined and dined you on more than one occasion, how he learned those little, obscure things about you that you caught you off guard whenever he remembered them, and most importantly, just spent uninterrupted time with you, getting to know the ins and outs of your life. To Tyson, getting you to open up to him was difficult yet still a tranquil thing to do. The latter severely outweighed the former, as the sense of serenity he felt with you would always overpower any of those harder moments.
The team returns to Denver two days later, a quick road trip to Dallas and St Louis in the books with the regular season ending within the week. You can see that it’s that time of the year on both JT and Tyson’s face, their eyes a little more sunken in with the back half push, even if they’ve already clinched the playoffs. There’s only a few more games left to round out March and the beginning of April, the guys’ still waiting on their round one opponent.
Tyson heads straight for your place when the plane touches down late Wednesday night. You’d talked to him every day for the past few days, but not being able to see him much after JT finding out caused a lot of anxiety for the both of you. The problem may be solved with that, but seeing the other would just give you that little extra push that this was the right thing to do.
Tyson enters your apartment quietly, dropping his backpack and suit jacket down onto the nearby couch as he navigates his way through your apartment in the dark. The light of your string lights in your bedroom illuminates the hallway, soft sounds coming from your phone as Tyson walks in on you laying on your side.
“Hey,” he gently greets with a smile, pausing in the doorway to admire you. You set your phone down, turning around to face the man leaning against the door frame.
You smile just as wide as he does, responding with just as gentle of a ‘hey’. That anxiety you felt over the course of the last few days instantly dissolving at the sight of the man in your doorway.
“Why’re you standing all the way over there?” You ask with a pout.
“I can’t just look at you?” Tyson laughs, making his way over to you slowly. He joins you in bed, crawling over you like he’s still not dressed in one of his expensive custom suits.
“Not when I haven’t seen you in a few days,” you complain with a giggle, the same pout still glued to your face. He places a quick kiss on your lips in response, giving into your silent ask while also erasing that puppy dog look from your face. You’d only officially been with Tyson a few weeks now, the butterflies still heavily present in your stomach everytime your lips meet his.
“Do you not have clothes to change into?” You ask, referring to the crisp white button down he’s still wearing. He nods his head no against yours,
“Only what’s dirty from the roadie. Besides, I plan on being naked here pretty soon,” he smirks playfully. The comment has you shoving him off you with a roll of your eyes, only causing him to laugh loudly at your reaction. You know he’s partly kidding, using that as an excuse to get up from bed to go to the bathroom.
When you emerge from the bathroom, he’s finally shed his clothes and is under your covers. He opens his arms for you to snuggle into him. You do, resting your head on his bicep as he wraps both of his arms back around you.
“I missed you,” you let out. “Because I didn’t know what was gonna happen when you got back with everything going on with JT.”
“I missed you, too, but I’ve always missed you when we left for road trips,” he responds, letting you in on a little secret that clues you in once again to how real this is and how long it’s truly been going on for. “He’s fine with everything, he just told me we can’t act too much like a couple around him.”
You chuckle at that because of course that was the part JT focused on when they talked. As you look up at him, your heart is full and your head still has that same fuzzy feeling it always has when you’re around him. With him you’ve never really felt lonely, something you often felt even when you were around people before him. Those love songs you once heard on the radio that annoyed you no longer do, and instead you welcome them when they play spontaneously in the car or at the bar and parties or even at Avalanche games.
The thoughts swimming around in your head have you swinging your leg over him, straddling his hips with his hands on your waist and yours on his ribs. That doe-eyed smile he has is focused on you, a grin spreading over your face at the way everything’s worked out with him. Your heart flutters as he gently squeezes your side, a small squeak coming out. He leans up on his elbows then, admiring the view he has of you. He slowly yet full-heartedly fell for you over the time he’s known you and you can see it in the way his gaze turns soft and as the quirkiness drops from his expression.
You’ve slowly fallen in love with the man underneath you, too, and you lean down to kiss him one more time. It’s slow like they always seem to be with him in scenarios like this, where it’s just the two of you and the sounds of your breathing.
The playoffs fly by quickly with the pace they’re winning at, a WAG jacket wrapped tightly around your shoulders to every game you make it to. A new one is shoved into your hands at the start of the Stanley Cup playoffs, Mel telling you it’s a special occasion that calls for a new jacket, even if it is just for a series and even though you’ve just barely broken in your first one.
You go into that offseason with your newly crowned Stanley Cup Champion of a boyfriend, flying out to Chicago over the summer for JT’s day with the cup and spending a whole week in St. Albert when its Tyson’s turn with it.
And that picture frame you never found a picture for that’s hanging up on your wall by your TV? It’s been occupied now with a photo of you sandwiched between JT and Tyson on the ice after Game 6 against the Tampa Bay Lightning, the Cup on the ice in front of the three of you, faces full of glee with confetti falling around you.
Plus One
The pitter patter of small feet running along the hardwood floors of the hallway, followed by a squeal of ‘daddy’ has you setting your glass down and following after her. Your daughter’s giggle is heard through the house, the familiar sound of your husband dropping his bags by the front door following soon after.
“What’re you still doing up, baby girl?” Tyson chastises the four year old as you round the corner to find the two of them still by the door, your daughter in Tyson’s arms as he gives her a kiss.
“Sage said she wouldn’t go to bed until daddy came home for story time,” you answer for Sage. She only giggles in response.
“How about you go get in bed and mommy and daddy will come tell you a story in a minute?” Tyson asks, playing with her little fingers.
“Okay daddy!” She agrees instantly, running all the way up the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom. The brown curls she got from Tyson bounce as she runs, your heart warming at the heavy resemblance she has to her father.
“How are you doing, baby?” Tyson hums as you give him the usual welcome home kiss, his hand coming to rest on your protruding stomach.
“Good, the back pain is much more manageable now, but I’m still going to the bathroom every hour it seems like,” you shrug as you answer. He’d been on the longest road trip of the season so far, one that means the season is almost over. You’d tried extremely hard this time around to get pregnant at the right time so your next child would arrive during the offseason and not in the middle of the conference finals like your first did a few years ago.
“Soon enough we’ll have her running and occupying all of Sage’s free time,” Tyson muses, the two of you making your way to your bedroom so he could change into comfier clothes. You smile at the thought of Sage finally having a little sister to play with and hopefully become best friends with.
When you don’t get to Sage’s room fast enough, she’s racing into yours and Tyson’s room and plopping down onto your spacious bed. You join her, Tyson following, knowing that she’d much rather be sandwiched between the two of you than in her tiny bed in her own room. She leans into her dad’s side, something she’s always done, but you don’t mind — you love seeing them get so close.
“Did you bring a book, sweetie?” You ask her, taming some of her curls.
“No, tell me the story of how you met daddy again,” she proposes, causing you and Tyson to share a look. It’s her favorite story, one she asks you to relay to her at least once a week, and the one she asks for the most when Tyson’s been gone.
The two of you tell the story to her anyway, taking turns as you tell her how upset Uncle JT was about the two of you dating, all the way to the jokes he made sure to make when he gave a speech at your wedding six years ago now.
#tyson jost imagine#alex writes#nhl imagine#hockey writing#when i post this i’ll be at work lmao i’m really posting it then dipping
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hi! im here to give a passive-aggressive psa on how to fucking tag!
first! ask yourself these questions:
does this post portray a character in a negative light?
is this post literally just saying things that arent true about a character because you dislike them?
if somebody said something similar about YOUR favourite character, and your mutual put it on your dash, would you be upset?
if your answer is YES:
put the fucking "#c![name] critical" tag on it
cop on. its not january anymore. i shouldnt have to say this. just because YOU constantly post about disliking a character so that people who DO stay away, doesnt mean everyone who reblogs your posts does. common fucking courtesy
#IM PISSED OFF IM PISSED OFF IM PISSED OFF I HAVE 50 TAGS BLOCKED HOW DO YOU GET PAST THAT#dsmp#mcyt#tommyinnit#this is directed at inniters if it isnt clear BE NICE TO C!TECHNO OR ILL KILL YOU DEAD
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—sharing a dorm with the mha class 1-a boys (Christmas edition🎄)
MWHAHAHA IM BACK with the hcs I hope y’all enjoy mwah mwah merry Christmas and happy holidays I love you guys
Denki brings you hot cocoa when he thinks you’re working too hard but it’s mostly so he can bribe you into playing video games with him
Iida makes you and the boys gather in the common room every Friday for a “friendship circle” where you can talk about your deepest feelings of the week but it always has the whole group hashing it out with each other about “leaving the stove on when no one’s there” or “fighting too loudly in the halls”
It’s ok though because the harsh honesty eventually becomes a crying fest where everyone hugs it out “like bros” and falls asleep on top of one another with blankets over everyone (courtesy of Iida)
Bakugo isn’t a man of many words, especially affectionate words, so he expresses his care for you through acts of service
Whenever you can’t seem to reach something, he’ll hoist you up onto his shoulders for more height or if you’re struggling with a new training move, he’ll commit hours just to help you perfect it
Most of the time, the boys get jealous of how much time you spend training with the explosive boy and join in with the session
It becomes the biggest game of sparring/tag/manhunt that you’ve ever seen
The boys become extremely protective if you have an injury after the game (which is ironic since they never hold back) and Kirishima instructs everyone to get you to the common room while Koda writes your injured part with bandages and Iida scolds the boys for being so rough
You lowkey hate when they pamper you like this but it’s all worth it when Deku brings out some katsudon (his fave) while Sero and Denki belt out your favourite song with improvised lyrics
Tokoyami let’s you borrow one of his dark cloaks and you’re one of the few people allowed in his room as he recites his sad poetry
Kirishima and Bakugo take turns having you on their back to do push-ups to see who can do the most
You once fell asleep in Todoroki’s room and he made a heated blanket with his fire quirk and draped it over you so it would “feel like a hug”
You spend a lot of time in the kitchen with Aoyama and Sato because Aoyama has the most bedazzling creations in his mind and he trusts you and sato to bring them to life
Everything becomes a competition in the boys dorm, including who can bake the best Christmas cookies with the loser having to list one thing they like about each roommate
Denki lost of course and he genuinely listed so many cute things it resulted in another group hug (yes, lots of group hugs go down in the boys dorm)
You bought everyone matching ugly Christmas sweaters and they all wore theirs until after New Years (yes, EVEN BAKUGO)
At the end of the even through all the fights and unnecessary arguments, there’s no other place that feels like home
#bnha#mha#mha x y/n#todoroki shoto#bakugo katsuki#midoriya izuku#fumikage tokoyami#bnha todoroki#bnha bakugou#bakugou x reader#todoroki x reader#kirishima eijirou#kaminari denki#todoroki headcanons#bakugo headcanons#kaminari headcanons#deku headcanons#kirishima headcanon#mha headcanons#bnha headcanons#iida tenya#kaminari x reader#kirishima x reader
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okokok so its kinda like the consumption of skewed fiction is okay as long as you know the difference between what is and isnt okay in society? i think thats what im getting maybe? but what if someone reads that kind of fiction and like, also agrees that that kind of thing is okay irl? would they be a proshipper or would they be something else?
i think i can understand it, its just a deal of knowing that fiction is, fiction, and its not okay for fucked up fiction to happen irl? like i can read a story about i dunno, a town falling apart due to mysterious murders and enjoy the plot but if i were to say "man, im really wanting dozens and dozens of innocent people to be gruesomely murdered i think thatd be a really neat thing to happen" then thatd be a problem because at that point id think that kinda thing is okay amd id be wanting that kinda fucked up shit inflicted on real people?
OR OR IS IT LIKE TWILIGHT?? people like twilight for lotsa different reasons, some like the movie because its outrageously toxic and badly made, some like it because of the concept of "this is a toxic relationship and its extremely entertaining" and some like it because they idolize the relationship between bella and edward and i guess jacob. the difference between these three is that the first two recognize this relationship as fiction and bad, whereas the last one idolizes the toxic relationship and probably wishes that kind of relationship to be irl. the first two know the relationship is not okay but the last one thinks it is?
IM SORRY IM JUST TRYING TO HET MY HEAD WRAPPED AROUND THIS PLEASE TELL ME IF IVE GOT SOMETHING WRONG
~krabs :]
you grasp this really well dude dont apologize at all!!
what you said at the start - "the consumption of skewed fiction is okay as long as you know the difference between what is and isnt okay in society" - is such a perfect and succinct way of explaining it, or at least how i see it:
a person who is proship/profiction is someone who thinks that bad stuff (mysterious murders! toxic relationships! all the things u mentioned!) is okay in fiction but not in real life! ayyy
not everyone who agrees with that calls themself "proship" (lots of them r just ppl who think its common sense, not a label, lol) and not all proshippers have good views. but thats the basis of the proship community in fandom!!
the reason there are so many antis, or people who think proship is bad, is because people jump to conclusions when taboo stuff is involved. it kinda goes like this: person A ships something with an unhealthy age gap, or whatever -> person B assumes that because A spends time writing or drawing it, they think it is okay irl -> B thus makes a post falsely claiming A is a pedo/abuser/whatever -> person B's followers take this at face value, without checking further.
this spreads like wildfire online! you know how it is.
its also important to know that: 1.) when someone makes content with these dark themes like murder or abuse or so forth, they should be tagging it/otherwise making sure people don't have to see it if they don't want to. its just common courtesy, so that nobody gets triggered. 2.) fiction and reality are different, but fiction still affects reality. writing about a murderer is okay, mentioning someone being transphobic in a story is okay. but trying to incite violence with hate speech, or turning a character into a transphobic caricature, etc, is obviously Not okay. ik ur aware of that! im just sayin that anyone who responds to criticism for bigotry with "fiction =/= reality!!" is misusing that phrase.
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Taking this here so we don't argue pointlessly in OP's notes. We can argue pointlessly here instead! :) Don't tell us how to react to things. You don't know us. Don't act like things are universally experienced the same way for everyone. I didn't attack OP. I didn't tell them they couldn't have their opinion. Hell, I wasn't even the alter that sent the initial message but I still apologized for his outburst! So don't act all high and mighty like you're bestowing some mystical knowledge "It's just a roleplay" because how their take affects us is different from how it affects you. /mad You walk up to the person asking for their trigger to be tagged and go "It's not that big of a deal 😊💙", man how's it feel to be the best person around? /s
Tagging critical posts is a common courtesy in this fandom to protect people who just genuinely cannot mentally handle someone expressing a negative take on their comfort character. Maybe you interact differently, that's perfectly fucking fine, but you do not get to tell us how we prefer to interact. And as for your "Just don't read it" comment, we do not have the self control not to eat the poisoned apple if it is sitting amongst the oranges at this moment. We're working on it, but we will consume that which harms us if it is right out in the open, unless it's filtered through our blacklist. The temptation to look is decreased greatly and if we click it then there's nobody to blame but us.
And in the end, if OP didn't want to tag their post as critical, that's fine and dandy. It's their blog. I'd just block and move on. But don't tell us not to ask someone to tag something that triggers us just because "it's a roleplay." God, fuck off with that. /disgusted
howdy! i thought we were over with the convo, didnt even know you considered it an argument so i apologize if i sounded aggressive because that was not at all my intention D: ! i never said u couldnt ask for them to tag it, i said i didnt read that part of the reply and thought u were just mindlessly getting upset with op for having an opinion. i apologized for that already, and ill apologize again! im very sorry for misreading ur reply, didnt mean to sound rude when i was replying to you and i apologize for that as well! i am someone who definitely has more filtered tags from the normal, and understand how u feel. i only said "it's just a roleplay in the end" because u were unnecessarily being aggressive towards op, and me. only asked for u to try and be a little less rude when asking for someone to tag posts. because people forget. as someone with the worst memory in the world and can barely even remember my own age half the time, its hard trying to remember to tag posts. so a simple "hey could u please remember to tag critical posts :)!" would be alright instead of cussing them out, eatting their dog, and offending their mother haha
moral of the story, dont be unnecessarily aggressive on the internet, life's too short to get upset at every little thing. and try rereading someone's reply to fully understand it in case u misread it, i think both of us need to remember to do that :]
have a lovely day, stay safe! <3 /gen
#i didnt think this was still going to go on i thought everything was resolved i didnt want unneeded anxiety this morning from arguing qwq#ive already had a crappy week so pls can we just end this?#arguments give me extreme anxiety#and long text#im quite literally trying to get ready for school rn#long post#tw long post
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Headcanon about Remus Lupin and sister reader solving a fight after Remus realises that his twin and James are something more than friends ! Thank you 🦕
ooo okay! i think i understand this haha
Being Remus’ sister and him finding out you’re dating James would include...
remus would walk in on the two of you (James) kissing in the gryffindor common room when you thought everyone was in bed
he’d be shocked, and upset that you didn’t tell him.
but angry with James that he’s messing around with his sister
he’d lash out at James telling him to get away and that he’s not good enough for you
he’d lash at you saying that you deserve better and that you aren’t allowed to see him anymore
it would be days before you could look at Remus.
he’d try to make it up to you but you wouldn’t concede.
you missed James like crazy and he missed you
and everything would come pouring out in the common room one day in front of everyone.
James would be glaring at Remus and you’d be looking longingly at him.
James would finally stand up and start shouting
“You have no right to keep us apart Moony! We can make our own choices and- and I LOVE HER!”
everyone would be silent after that, looking between you and James
you’d try and hold your tears back as you stand up next to him, looking at Remus
you’d take James’ hand and say “Rem, i love him,”
and James would be astounded.
Remus would pull the two of you away and apologise. He’d give you his blessing as a courtesy
he knew you didn’t need it but he knew it would make you both feel better
he didn’t want to lose his sister or his best mate and he wanted you to be happy
you’d try and keep the affection to a minimum around Remus
after a while, he’d grow to like the two of you together.
hope you like it boo <3
if you would like to be added to a tag list, just drop me an ask😚
permanent tag list: @kitkatd7 @chaotic-fae-queen @teenagereadersciencenerd @kitkatkl @may-rapp @loki-ismyaesthetic @dearspacepirates @remibarnes22 @little-bit-of-randomness @stripedchickens @serenefreakgeek @thehumanistsdiary @reallyreading @summergoldenrze @shadowsinger11 @mischiefsemimanaged
harry potter tag list: @marauderswhisperer @im-a-writer-right @blackpinkdolan @mayxsx @dreamer821
#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#james potter headcanon#james potter x reader#james potter#harry potter headcanon#marauders headcanon#hp marauders#harry potter marauders
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heya everyone ! i wrote a really long intro / backstory which i’ve linked below, but in case you’re lazy like me i’ve also put a little tl;dr under the cut with the cliffs notes. there’s also a bunch of plot ideas in case anyone is interested ! like this, drop me and IM, or message me on discord ( do you like yuice ?#6373 ) if you want to plot !
⤷ the courts offer bread and salt to jeyne whent née lannister of house whent. many say that the twenty - seven year old ruling lady of harrenhal is known to be lively and insightful, though ill tongues whisper that she is condescending and selfish when her name is uttered , one is reminded of a pretty smile hiding bloodied teeth; the hiss and raised hackles of a cat that thinks itself a lion; a languid and velvety darkness; heartbeat made of war drums. may she be blessed and protected in this war of crowns. ( fc: caitlin stasey )
full backstory / statistics page / development tag .
trigger warnings for ; death & murder, illness, forced marriage, misogyny & misogynistic slurs (1), war.
basics.
name. jeyne whent née lannister. nicknames. the little lioness. age. twenty-seven. traits. + clever, intrepid, lively, protective, insightful, tasteful. - hypocritical, cruel, condescending, proud, selfish, spiteful. titles. ruling lady of harrenhal, heir apparent to lannisport. loyalty. [ lana del rey vc ] money, power, and glory. also the starks of winterfell, i guess.
tl ; dr .
jeyne is the youngest child and only daughter of the lord of lannisport and his wife. well - raised, courtesied, if admittedly spoiled. even as a little girl she plays pretend at being a king. her father teaches her what words like wartime and loyalty and ambition mean ; the sacrifices she must make for their family name, for gold and glory.
the ironborn raids come to the shores of the westerlands and both her brothers are sent to fight. the younger dies first ; there is no body to bury. her mother falls ill with something they can only call grief.
jeyne is married not long after, a rose in bloom at nineteen. when she first hears, she weeps and begs and rages. her father reminds her of her duty, of the joy it would bring her ailing mother. jeyne knows then what must be done, and plans.
when her first husband dies just shy of two years into their marriage, jeyne is irreproachable. he dies in winter, already ill ; goes to sleep coughing and doesn’t wake up. jeyne isn’t even in the castle when it happens, although unfounded rumors fly of witchery and murder.
nine months pass, and she plays the part of mourning widow exceptionally well. it helps her mummer’s farce that news comes from the war : her remaining brother is dead now too, and her mother’s health is failing. without her brothers, she’s the ostensible heir to lannisport ; her father’s displeasure with this is made quite clear to her. he even suggests she isn’t his ; bearing too many of her mother’s features, not enough of his.
she is remarried quickly to lord lucas whent, without a fraction of the pomp and circumstance of her first wedding ; now a widow, with a reputation tarnished by unproven but incessant whispers, the newest match is rushed, necessary but insignificant. she doesn’t cry or beg this time, just goes coldly.
she hates him before she even meets him, hates the harrenhal the moment she sets eyes on it, hates the cold and the rain and the gloom of the castle and its people. spends all her considerable energies complaining and making life generally miserable for anyone around.
word arrives that her mother has died ; her father remarries quickly in the hopes of a new male heir, and draws in his nephews and nieces. weighing his options. jeyne prays to the stranger to take them all.
she resents the lot of them ; her father for using and betraying her, her brother and mothers for leaving her, the ironborn for killing her brothers, the starks for suing for peace and making their deaths worthless, her husband merely for existing. mostly, though, she resents herself, not clever enough to find a way out of the cages she’s been locked in.
plots.
enemies. the very best plot type and you cannot convince me otherwise. gimme intimately plotted hate-your-guts-smile-to-your-face frenemies who overthink everything the other says and press each others buttons incessantly. gimme ‘our houses have fought each other and i blame your family for this or that’. gimme petty jealousies and annoyances and people too much like her for them to get along. gimme people who think she’s a traitorous, murdering bastard and a whore to boot, and aren’t even wrong to think so.
close friends. i don’t imagine she has a lot of these ; those not deterred by her reputation often are dissuaded by her personality. still i love the idea of her having a few lords or ladies with whom she gets along quite well, the kind of people you only need to meet briefly to know you understand each other. can be from pretty much anywhere ; stuck at harrenhal i imagine jeyne to be an avid letter-writer.
cousins. i’m also considering sending in a wc for this, but gimme all the family plots ! could be paternal cousins, potential contenders for inheriting lannisport, & probably childhood companions. could also be maternal cousins ! i listed her mom as being a westerling but i’m more than happy to change that to another house for plot reasons, it doesn’t really matter ! her father could’ve also had sisters who married into other houses, there’s lots of options.
failed betrothals. i can imagine her father made a lot of offers, both when she was first getting married and after she was widowed. and i can imagine a lot of reasons why someone might reject that ; she’s a lannister, she’s not .... great as a person and her reputation isn’t phenomenal either. after the death of her first husband, too, i can imagine her prospects were pretty slim. still, the lannisters are ambitious and would have sought out as good as match as they could have.
family of her late husband. yea, i specifically didn’t pick a house for her first husband to be from because i wanted to leave ‘em open for other applicants but also because i wanted to leave it open in case it’s a plot anyone would like to take up ! most of the story around that is also very vague so as to fit with pretty much any ideas/plots someone has going on. would be really fun, tho ; possibly they can even have been co-conspirators and this person inherited jeyne’s late husband’s title and lands ? or they absolutely hate jeyne and think she’s a murderer which .... she very well might be.
sister in law. the widow of jeyne’s older brother, irwyn ; i hc that they had a daughter but tbh that’s just flavor text and i am open to changing pretty much anything i’ve got going on. i may send in a wc for this at some point too ? anyway, whether she stayed at lannisport or returned to her family home or anything, idk. seems like an unlikely connection to get picked up but it’s definitely out there if it happens to fit for someone.
brothers’ connections. again kind of vague ? would probably work best for men from the northern kingdom who may have known them or trained with them, or else fought alongside them against the ironborn. could also be ladies with pretty much any kind of attachment to either of them idk ; jeyne doesn’t have a whole lot of family left so this is my way of trying to have connections thru her family anyway.
childhood friends. idk how many characters from the westerlands there are around rn, but bring them to me pls. would love some childhood friends for jeyne ; whether they fell out of touch, or still write each other monthly letters. them being a ward at lannisport, or jeyne being a ward at theirs for a time is also a neat option !
allies. not quite friends, but potential partners whose ambitions align with hers. she has connections to the wealth of lannisport and the might and strategic position of harrenhal ( though harrenhal is truly weaker than she’d ever admit ) and honestly would support just about anyone if it meant she got lannisport. she’s power hungry what can i say ?
former flings / secret lovers. firstly these can be of any gender as jeyne is ... peak evil bisexual tbh. yes i’m queercoding my villain and i think that’s very sexy of me. these are also just pretty vague ideas, and absolutely do not need to be particularly romantic ; they could have had a more lengthy affair or just hooked up at a wedding or a tourney or something.
travellers. both lannisport and harrenhal are pretty common places to pass through. on a sea journey on the western coast one is likely to stop by lannisport, and harrenhal stands practically at the center of westeros, which is a fun opportunity for jeyne & your muse to have met even if they live very far way or are unlikely to have met in other ways ! especially considering harrenhal’s size it’s a good stop over for travellers with a larger retinue. idk i just want an excuse to plot with everyone.
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rules: code of conduct.
BEGIN.
Before we start, I would like you to have certain things in mind when approaching me ooc. I am very shy and quite awkward, which results in me not being much of a talker; however, I will always try my best to be friendly to whoever wants to approach. I dislike pet names so please do not use them with me unless we are very close. There will be times when I'm just exhausted, so my wording could sound rude/aggressive, to which I apologize in advance -I never mean to hurt people’s feelings. I also reserve the right to interact with WHOEVER I want, and pestering me about it will only get you blocked.
Updates will be made as required.
I. BASIC.
A. This blog is: Selective / Independent / Canon Divergent / NSFW / Mutuals only / Singleship / Mostly iconless / Multiverse / AU, Crossover, OC, and Multimuse friendly / Vaguely affiliated with the OP RP fandom.
B. I am a very slow rper for many reasons —school, family, my ever-fluctuating mood —and I would appreciate it if you refrained from pestering me for replies. In return I offer as much patience as necessary. Think of this blog as low activity please.
C. English is not my mother language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes made.
D. I track the tag #iinfortunii, although mentioning me works just as fine.
E. Constructive criticism is always welcome but anon hate will be immediately deleted. I have no problems if you disagree with my portrayal, but it doesn't give you the right to harass me.
F. Mun and muse are both over 18, so there are chances that heavy content will be present; however I won't be writing smut. I can roleplay anything before or after the act if requested, but the moment things get far too explicit, I'll do a fade-to-black. I ask of you to not lie about your age or else you’ll be blocked indefinitely.
G. This is a heavily headcanon-based blog, and changes are likely to be made as more information is revealed about him, though I reserve the right to adjust the new information according to my interpretation of Deuce or simply ignore it, which is why I’m canon divergent.
H. If you'd like to turn an ask into a thread, you can turn it into a new post, or reblog from me, as I won't be using the Tumblr asks anymore due to the problems that come with formatting and such.
I. Ask box is open for everyone ic or ooc, but you aren't allowed to turn it into a thread and nor I will reply to it if we’re not mutuals. Please don't push me, because I won't hesitate to block.
J. No godmoding —only a minor is allowed if it moves a thread forward —or metagaming, please. Don't kill Deuce either, unless plotted beforehand, and most importantly, don't hold your muse back.
K. Discord is available for mutuals upon request.
L. Just because I write something it does not mean I condone it. Please have this in mind and again, do not pester me about it. Any and all nsfw matters will be tagged accordingly. There will be triggering topics present, and you can know more about this on the section below.
M. DO NOT involve me in drama or call-out posts. I’m heavily against both things. On this note, you’ll never see me rebloging a call-out post. This culture is so damaging and toxic, and I firmly believe no one should play the role of the judge for the good of the community just because you had issues with someone or don’t agree with the things they roleplay. Talk things privately, be mature about it, hard-block the person and move on. I am also very aware that a lot of people have done things that can’t be excused, but I like to believe that people can change for the better. If you try to drag me into it, I'll hard block any and all people involved indefinitely.
II. TRIGGERS.
A. They will be tagged as trigger tw, trigger / and trigger cw.
B. I do my best to stay up to date with my mutuals triggers. Your comfort is way more important to me than you might think, so never be hesitant to approach me via IM, (anonymous) ask or stop following me.
C. Triggers that are likely to appear, although some more than others: violence || blood || death || drugs || abuse || knives || body image || medical equipment || suggestive content || etc
D. I have no triggers, so you are free to go wild with your content. I only ask you remember to tag your nsfw (both written and visual), please.
III. INTERACTIONS.
A. Deuce won't like everyone. He might/will make wrong assumptions about your character. He will insult and bite back. He won't always be nice to those he likes. He does many things that serve his interests. You, as the mun, have no reason to take it personal, because I'm won't follow someone I don't like; if you DO take it personal however, and decide to rouse drama, then I'll be hard-blocking you. Goes for me as well —I have no reason to get angry for any of the things noted above.
B. My bonds page displays the relationships that have been built over time, not necessarily through interaction alone but over plotting as well. Refer to it for more information.
C. Interactions with OCs related to canon characters will only take place as long as said OCs have a detailed about page. Personally, I'm not interested in the idea of an OC being blood-related to my portrayal, so I apologize in advance.
D. Formatting isn’t a big thing across my blogs, save for the small text. Please don’t mix either sup/sub with small text when writing with me, as I have eyesight problems. Don’t use colored text either.
E. Non-romantic pre-established relationships are allowed! Just make sure to talk it out with me first, yeah?
01. Spade / Whitebeard pirates (canon and original characters alike that i am MUTUALS with) will have a pre-established relationship as long as the other mun is comfortable with such idea, though that relationship will be limited to merely crewmates, unless discussed otherwise.
F. You don’t need to match my writing length as long as I’m given enough to work with. If something about my reply bothers or doesn’t work with you, let me know and I’ll re-work it.
G. I really enjoy plotting scenarios or talking out about the relationships my muse could have with other muses, so hit me up if you’ve got any ideas! I’ll try to do the same!
H. Mun does not equal muse, so don’t go assuming I’m a jerk simply because Deuce is an asshole from time to time. I’m set on the idea that I’ll give people the same treatment they give me —which is always nice and kind. Kudos to everyone for this ♡
I. I don’t use a threadtracker because I rely on my memory (terrible mistake, I know), but I try to draft people’s replies as soon as I see them. If by any reason it seems like I lost it, then please let me know / send me a link with it and I’ll be deeply grateful.
J. I don’t do nor reply to greetings starters for matters of my own comfort, so I ask of you to never expect a starter or a reply from them.
IV. SHIPPING.
A. Singleship, with the spot taken by daadzi, which means Deuce is no longer open for romantic relationships.
01. Under no circumstances, I will accept more romantic relationships once the spot is taken. That being said, I won’t discourage your muse from falling for / hitting on him, although I ask you to understand he will never respond with the same interest or will never react gently if he’s pushed too far.
02. If my shipping partner is comfortable enough, I'll interact with duplicates with the condition that the relationship is strictly platonic.
B. Constant interaction, mutual interest, and chemistry are a must for the sake of better communication (both ic and ooc, preferably).
C. Please do not approach me if you wish our characters to have either a: one night stand or friends with benefits type of relationships. It won’t work out due to the nature of Deuce’s personality, and for that I apologize.
E. My ship has its own tag so you're free to block it if you don't want to see it on your dashboard. In addition, I'll also tag those posts with only the ship name for this very purpose.
F. Please do not force ships on me.
V. CELEBRATIONS.
A. First off, I am absolutely terrible at keeping up with dates, and to be frank, I am not the biggest fan of celebrating, which is why I think it’s necessary to say I won’t be partaking in any holidays, not even Deuce’s birthday (not that he has one, to begin with). Obviously I will still reply to any gifts received, and will send out things in return —you know, common courtesy.
B. I won't be sending out birthday gifts every year, and I might write drabbles for people once in a blue moon; it doesn’t mean they will be done for the specific date though, so please be patient.
VI. REASONS TO NOT FOLLOW BACK / UNFOLLOW.
A. Too much drama / call-outs / vague posts / sexual content.
B. Content makes me uncomfortable.
C. You are a personal blog without a visible rp sideblog. Please make sure it's easy to find.
D. You do not have a proper tag system.
E. Your blog doesn’t have a rules and about pages.
F. You lack the manners to deal with people respectfully.
G. I have no interest / lost interest.
H. I'm constantly / only used as a meme archive.
I. Other reasons may apply. I will soft block so we can both cease following each other and avoid any potential awkward situations. I won’t make a fuss if you decide to unfollow so I expect the same courtesy.
VII. ABOUT BEATRICE.
She is not a real person. Her concept as Deuce’s (toxic) pseudolover is my creation and was somewhat inspired from the real life Beatrice Portinari. Do have in mind that Deuce doesn’t talk about her so your muse can’t simply approach him and ask about her unless they can go through his memories / read his mind / any capability alike or he speaks about her, though it won't take a genius to figure out that she's a product of his imagination.
You can read about her by clicking here -link to be added.
She serves as a lie to shield himself from the internalized homophobia he deals with up until meeting Ace.
NOTE: As stated previously, Mun =/= muse, but I too have been dealing with compulsory heterosexuality for far too long, so I'd like to apologize in advance for projecting a bit of that into my portrayal. I'll work so that this part makes sense with what we've been given from Ace's novel.
VIII. MISCELLANEOUS.
A. I will never force people to follow me, so if by any reason you have to unfollow/block me, please go ahead. Your comfort matters and have every right to do what you must to ensure your wellbeing. With that said, I will not tolerate and will immediately hard block if you try to police my content.
B. I do not follow back immediately, and it can take me from a few hours to several days to follow back. Do not take it personally if I choose not to.
C. If I follow it’s because I am interested in interacting. I only ask you to be patient because it might take me a while to gather the courage to send something to your inbox or talk to you.
D. I have. ZERO knowledge about medicine. Don’t expect me to go full force and try to be 100% accurate, because I won’t.
E. I practice reblog karma (send a meme to someone if I’m rebloging it from them). If you see something you’d like to reblog but have no intention in sending something yourself, then please reblog from the source.
IX. FINISH.
Thank you for taking the time to read this! As you might have noticed, there’s no password to send. Make sure to check the psa tag for any updates, or don’t hesitate to send an ask if there’s anything unclear! I do my best so as not to post too much OOC posts, but sometimes it just happens. If it's nothing important, then I'll erase it whenever I have the chance/remember.
Keanu Reeves vc: You’re all breathtaking!
#pinned post.#long post#❝ —talking nonsense ; ooc#❝ —off to new adventures ; queue#ooc.#queue.#[ this is a very long post btw ]
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Rules
When sending in asks please specific in some way which muse it’s for. If you don’t I’ll pick whoever I feel like or who best fits the ask.
Feel free to turn an ask into a thread
Feel free to reblog memes from me but only if we are mutuals! If I don’t follow you back please don’t reblog memes from me! Reblog from source! Same with various other posts such as art, gif, quotes, ect.
No goddmodding, no reblogging stuff you aren’t a part of, no reblogging ooc stuff, personals don’t reblog anything at all, ect. Follow common rp courtesy.
I have no triggers and tag all common triggers as needed. If you need something tagged let me know!
Anyone including non-mutuals are welcome to send in random asks and memes Please do! However, I prefer to thread with mutuals. This is due to how busy I can get. Limits keep me sane, ya know?
Crossover, OC, duplicate, ect friendly. A multi-ship, multi-verse, multi-everything blog.
I will be slow to reply, please do not pressure me into replying. But please feel free to politely ask me if things are taking too long, and you want to make sure I’ve got it or what not! Also know I can be bad at answering IMs! Nothing against you! I’m just slow and forgetful or tumblr doesn’t notify me!
Mun is 24 years old! So while sexual NSFW is technically possible, I just don’t prefer writing it and likely won’t do nsfw here. Sometimes an ask might dip into some sensitive matter but threads with sex aren’t my thing. That being said other content that can be considered sensitive will be here. Things like violence, and dark content. Everything will be tagged appropriately.
I’m currently loosely open for shipping. To ship I need to know my rp partner and I will only ship based on how two characters interact. We need to talk, plot, have our muses interact. Chemistry! Slow burn! Also a small note I overall prefer a friendship or family relationship with most characters.
I don’t mind if you don’t have icons or do, or what style you use! I don’t care at all about formatting. As long as I can read your reply you’re fine!
Any questions about my rules, myself, my blog, my muses, ect just send an ask or IM me. I’ll be happy to clear things up or whatever. Just want to talk ooc? Message me! Want to plot? Message me. Need to talk? Need love? Need company? Message me. Message me when ever! I love to get to know my writing partners, love to make friends, and love to be an open and safe place for all!
Lastly, I always read everyone’s rules before following. A follow from me means I have read your rules. And honesty I’ll likely look over them again and again due to my anxiety so rest assure I know your rules! I try to send passwords if you have them but I might forget to. My rules might be changed, added, edited, ect as I feel/find the need. I will make a post informing everyone of this when/if it happens
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mobile friendly info:
Mun
Nickname: Kat Age: 24 Pronouns: She/Her RP experience: 6+ on various platforms. This is my first time rping on tumblr so please don’t mind my learning.
Rules
Everyone be nice and respectful! If you are respectful then I’ll be fine with you! General roleplay etiquette, common courtesy, common sense, and rules apply. Multi-ship, multi-verse, pretty much multi-everything. Crossover and OC friendly. Just give me something to know about your character and their world/canon if I don’t know it and OCs need to have an about page. Anyone is welcome to send in memes and random asks. Anyone is welcome to message me to plot or chat. I am sorta selective. If you seem nice, I know your character’s canon (or have something to go off of for it) and I enjoy your writing then I will likely write with you I am very laid back but do suffer from anxiety and depression so please bear with me when it comes to replies to threads, inbox messages/asks, IMs, ect. I will likely not use icons, at least to start. But I do not mind if you use them! Feel free to format your posts/replies how ever you want and I’ll roll with it. If I for whatever reason need you to change your formatting for my replies I’ll let you know. I enjoy angst and like to write it but I am pretty much up for anything! I also like cute moment and tender moments. A mix of these in a thread is the best! Hit me up if you want to plot. I will use tags cw: (warning) and or tw: (trigger) on all common triggers and needed warnings. If you need something tagged please let me know. Please know that there will be dark themes written here as well as possible NSFW. I don’t do well with mannequins, statures or androids without their skin. I also can’t do close ups of eyes, eye gore, sexual assault, or rape. Please tag these things. No NSFW/smut with anyone under 18. Minors will be blocked. Shipping: I ship based on how things feel between two muses. I’m always up to discuss ships so if you ship your muse with mine hit me up to see if we can start something! I’m pretty open. Keep in mind that I see Hank and Connor as more of father and son than lovers. Feel free to turn meme answers into threads I will be slow to reply sometimes due to being in real life. I often work 11 or 12 hour shifts at work which leaves little time or energy for other things. This is just a fun hobby. Please do not pressure or guilt me for replies. But if it’s been a week or more please feel free to politely ask me about where your reply is! These rules can be changed at any time as needed. A post will be made to notify everyone of this if this happens
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