⋆✴︎˚。⋆ 𝙳𝚁𝙰𝙵𝚃𝙿𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙴𝙳 a private hyperfixation fueled low activity chicago based hockey oc 𝚁𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙽 𝙱𝚈𝚁𝙽𝙴. created by byron ( he/they , 25+ )
𝐈. rules 𝐈𝐈. bio 𝐈𝐈𝐈. memes 𝐈𝐕. blogroll ⌗ ┆ affiliates : rushplay / icegods ﹠ reborns

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@draftpicked
⋆✴︎˚。⋆ 𝙳𝚁𝙰𝙵𝚃𝙿𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙴𝙳 a private hyperfixation fueled low activity chicago based hockey oc 𝚁𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙽 𝙱𝚈𝚁𝙽𝙴. created by byron ( he/they , 25+ )
𝐈. rules 𝐈𝐈. bio 𝐈𝐈𝐈. memes 𝐈𝐕. blogroll ⌗ ┆ affiliates : rushplay / icegods ﹠ reborns
remove the separator reblogs / likes thing
this is not going to remove the functionality of this weird feature, but it will remove the ugliness that comes with it, as you'll see in the screenshots provided below .
to make the required changes, you will need to get the stylus extension that you can grab at the following links : chrome , firefox , opera , github .
firstly, you must write a new style by clicking on the plus sign . name it tumblr or something similar, just so you know what it's for . then, change the code 1 dropdown to urls on the domain - in the box type : tumblr.com .
copy & paste the following code into the big box below & then click on save next to the beautify button on the left-hand side .
._Krz6 { display: none!important; }
once you've done that, refresh your tumblr & you should see that the weird separators are now gone .
if anything changes & i need to make an update or help you out in some other way, send an ask to let me know !
okay , things are finally slowing down and i be here. who wants memes in their inbox ?
like for some memes !
RONAN BYRNE'S FAMILY
Brian & Sara Byrne are Ronan's parents. They grew up in the city, his mom in Back of the Yards and his dad in the Uptown neighborhood. They moved to suburbs to raise a family. The support all of their children's interests.
Lorcan Byrne is the oldest sibling and two to Sinead. They use they/she pronouns and went college at DePaul. They are mostly into art and music these days, but they figure skated and played soccer when they were younger. They are 30 years old and lives in Log.an S.quare.
Sinead Byrne is the second oldest sibling and twin to Lorcan. She uses she/they pronouns. She studied biochemical engineering at Northwestern. She is now going for her Phd and lives in Oak Park.
Kieran Byrne is 28 years old and middle sibling. He played baseball and hockey for a few years but lost interest around the start of high school. He went to Loyola University works in accounting, and lives in the West Loop.
Ronan is youngest, with an 8+ year age gap between him and his other siblings. He's the only siblings with a long lasting interest interest in sports. Because his siblings lived at home or nearby, he was almost never without them. The siblings group chat is always active.
𓈒 ◌ ✶ He denies that they are together, that he and Stella are dating. Whether or not people believe him is up to them. It doesn't help that he smiles and blushes every time she is brought up doesn't help. That he searches for her in every crowd, she's his date to every event, and his arm constantly around her does nothing but convince everyone around them that they are dating. I'm touchy with everyone, is his only defense.
❝ Come on, I won't let anything bad happen to you, ❞ he promised her as he held onto her, her fingers digging into him clauses light an air of laughter to leave his lips. ❝ I've got you, always. ❞ He promises her, his blue eyes full of nothing but truth and adoration. He leans to whisper, ❝ And I just said that because I wanted to see you smile, but I will kiss you, ❞ and winks.
@stilloves , continued.
› TENSION LINER PROMPTS & THE FIRST SIGN OF INTIMACY
"Was that your hand, or did I imagine it?"
"You didn’t pull away."
"That wasn’t just a glance."
"You felt that too, didn’t you?"
"Your breath just hitched."
“Are you alright?”
“You look out of breath”
“You were looking for me?”
"I noticed the way you said my name."
"That’s the first time you’ve touched me like that."
"Don’t pretend you didn’t lean in."
"You’re closer than you were a minute ago."
"Say it’s not just me feeling this."
"Your fingers just brushed mine."
"We’ve never stood this close before."
“This is new territory.”
"I felt your hand pause there."
"Your voice changes when you're near me."
"That smile… it wasn’t friendly."
“Are we pretending that didn’t just happen?”
"That wasn’t part of the plan, was it?"
"I’m not imagining this anymore, am I?"
"You touched my arm and stayed there."
"When did the way you say my name start sounding like that?"
"Your lips are a lot closer than they should be."
"You didn’t have to whisper it like that."
"That was the first time you hesitated."
"You’re not hiding it very well."
"You looked at me like you wanted to say something else."
"We crossed a line just now, didn’t we?"
"You leaned into the silence."
"I caught the way you looked at my mouth."
"You blinked like I surprised you."
"You didn't let go."
"That wasn’t how friends touch."
“You moved closer, not away.”
"We’re not just standing here, are we?"
"You tilted your head like you wanted more."
"Something just changed, didn’t it?"
"That was the first time you didn’t avoid my eyes."
"You’re looking at me like I’m already yours."
"Your hand brushed mine, and everything stopped."
“I felt your hesitation…”
"You’re not pretending anymore."
"That silence said more than anything else could."
"That look, what does it mean?"
"You almost kissed me just now."
"Tell me that wasn’t nothing."
"You were going to say something, weren’t you?"
"Something’s different this time."
ᝰ🚬 𝚉𝙰𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙿 .ᐟ RANDOM INSTIGATIVE PROMPTS. CHANGE ANY PRONOUNS IF NECESSARY. SOME MATURE THEMES MAY BE PRESENT.
you really don't hear yourself when you talk, do you?
i don't know who you think you are, but it's not impressive.
you love playing the victim when it's convenient.
don't look at me like that. you made this choice.
you always say that, and it's never true.
i'm tired of pretending you don't know exactly what you're doing.
funny how it's always someone else's fault.
you don't get credit for almost doing the right thing.
i trusted you, and that was my mistake.
you don't listen, you just wait for your turn to talk.
say it again, slower this time, maybe you'll hear how stupid it sounds.
you don't get to rewrite what happened just because it hurts.
you're not misunderstood, you're just wrong.
i don't owe you patience.
you love control more than you love honesty.
stop acting so surprised, this was always coming.
you really think that excuses what you did?
you don't get to be angry about consequences.
i expected better from you, and that's on me.
you're exhausting, and it's not charming anymore.
every apology you give sounds rehearsed.
you only care when it affects you.
you don't actually want the truth, you want validation.
don't pretend this is about concern.
you cross lines and call it curiosity.
you never ask how i feel, you just assume.
you're cruel when you're cornered.
i see right through the act.
you confuse confidence with arrogance.
you just don't know when to stop.
you keep pushing until something breaks.
you don't get to play innocent here.
you really thought i wouldn't notice?
you always need an audience.
i don't recognize you when you're like this.
you're not brave, you're reckless.
you say you're honest, but you're just mean.
you enjoy this more than you admit.
don't flatter yourself, i stopped believing you a long time ago.
you don't fight fair, you fight to win.
you're not protecting yourself, you're attacking me.
you keep confusing silence for forgiveness.
why do you make everything a competition?
you don't get to decide what hurts me.
you act like being hurt gives you permission.
you only hear what supports your narrative.
you don't respect boundaries, you tolerate them.
you always push until i snap.
is this the part where i'm supposed to feel sorry for you?
you keep calling it honesty like that makes it noble.
you enjoy being cruel when you think you're justified.
you've been waiting to say that, haven't you?
i know you always choose pride over people.
you don't know how to back down.
you don't listen when the answer isn't what you want.
you treat everyone like they're disposable.
after what you did, you don't get to talk about loyalty.
you always take more than you give.
you never stop to think who gets hurt.
you only care when you're exposed.
you don't know how to sit with discomfort.
you poke until something bleeds.
you love being right more than being kind.
you don't know when enough is enough.
you keep digging and wonder why you're alone.
you don't see people, you see leverage.
no, you don't get to speak for me.
you twist everything until it suits you.
you don't actually care about the truth.
you always need the last word.
you don't know how to be gentle.
you don't care who you hurt if it proves a point.
stop calling it honesty like it absolves you of anything.
you don't know how to lose gracefully.
you don't fight fair, you fight dirty.
you make everything personal.
you don't know how to let things go.
the truth is, you just enjoy tearing people down.
you don't care how this affects anyone else.
how convenient, you only show empathy when it benefits you.
you don't see how far you've crossed the line.
you always think you're justified.
you don't know how to stop hurting people.
don't act like you actually want answers.
you always think you're the smartest one in the room.
you care about winning.
you don't fight for resolution. you fight to hurt and you know it.
𓈒 ◌ ✶ Independence was not all it was cracking up to be. Had ever actually been alone ? That was the question he found himself asking again again. And the answer seemed to be no. He was the youngest child of many, he was always brought around to his sibling's activities and passed around their friends. There was always a standing invite for him to tag along. Then he was on team after team. When he got drafted to the Firebirds, he moved in Marcos ... and just sort of never moved out. Even when @rushplay moved in. Then it was the three of them. It was perfect really, at least for Ronan, there was always someone hang out with. His two favorite people were happier than ever. And Isak knew how to cook. Somehow both Marcos and Ronan had missed that life skill. He pulled out his iPad, rolled back the cover, and stood it up on the counter.
He opened FaceTime and tapped Other Dad - ISAK. The chimes sounded at he waited for an answer on the other end. ❝ Heeeeeyyyyy, Isak. ❞ he lips had a smirk that he was trying to hide. A laugh he was attempting to swallow. ❝ It has recently occurred to me that I do not know how to make breakfast food and that breakfast for every meal has lost its charm. ❞ He was going through a ridiculous amount of eggs. ❝ Can you teach me how to cook ? ❞
@draftpicked asked: let me hold you for a minute.
IN THIS WAN LIGHT, RONAN APPEARS SO UNBEARABLY FRAGILE THAT HE COUNTS IT AS A SMALL MIRACLE THE BOY DOESN’T SPLINTER IN TWO. that look in his eyes, the blunt edge of expectation smothering out hopeful boyishness, is one marcos knows far too well. he could map it blind, trace every frantic thought skittering through ronan’s head as he tries to outrun disappointment in himself before it can settle into his bones. he was his mirror in this way, wasn’t he? always the first to shoulder blame, to gather responsibility into his own hands so no one else would have to carry it. it’s not a feeling that he wants for him, especially so young. marcos had taken on such a mantle so early that he’d forgotten for a long time that playing hockey at the level that they did was no small miracle. meant to be exhilarating as much as it was exhausting, joyful even in its frustration.
it was easy to forget that they were all boys who grew up to live their greatest dreams and it was marcos’ responsibility to remind him of it.
“ hey, now, ” the voice that leaves him is delicate and threadbare, accompanied by him pausing in the parking garage leading up to their penthouse, his car locking shut behind them. “ c’mere. ” he takes his rookie by the nape and draws him in against his side, beneath his arm draped around his shoulders. instinctively, his long fingers furl into the soft strands of dark blonde hair as he tucks ronan under his chin in a warm embrace, one he doesn’t have any inclination to let go of until the boy is ready for it. “ i know it weighs on you, ” he continues, LOW AND EVEN, giving ronan a gentle but grounding squeeze. “ having this many people believe and say such big things about you as a player. ” a pause. “ and for what it’s worth — i more than believe them to be right. ” he shifts him in his arms, leaning back just enough to make sure ronan is listening with a meaningful look. “ but it is not only your responsibility when we lose. ”
there is a distant memory tied to the moment, an echo that rattles through his skull. marcos remembers, dimly at first, then all at once, another parking garage, another long night, his own captain’s hands firm on his shoulders as those same words were given shape and weight. THE VOICE HAD BEEN STEADY THEN, TOO. patient and unshakable. wisdom passed down not in empty platitudes, but lived experience. marcos hadn’t understood at the time how much of leadership lived in that quiet moment. how captaincy wasn’t always about authority or accolades, but about knowing when to hold someone upright until they remembered how to stand on their own. HE CARRIES THAT UNDERSTANDING WITH HIM NOW, worn smooth from use, and offers it forward without hesitation. one day, he knows, ronan will stand exactly where he is now. will recognize that same hollow look in a young player’s eyes and reach out without thinking. one day, his hands will settle on another rookie’s shoulders and he’ll speak these same truths like they were his own — because by then, they will be. that is how it goes. nothing lost, only carried forward to the next generation. it was a lineage not of titles or trophies, but of care — passed down quietly, and meant to endure till it reached the next pair of ears that needed them the most.
“ this is a team game. tonight, they were a better team than us, that is all. detroit are our rivals for a reason. ” he tips his head slightly, voice quiet but unwavering in its sincerity. “ it doesn’t take anything away from the player you are. you are meant to be learning right now. there are going to be off-nights, everyone misses their shot at times. even when it counts the most. ” his thumb moves in a small, reassuring circle where it rests against ronan’s shoulder. “ what makes a great player isn’t never falling short — it’s knowing there’s always another game and another chance to get back up and keep pushing. i don’t wish for you to forget this when you get off the ice and start thinking too long about everything you think you could have or should have done better. you look onward to the next and if you can’t find your way on your own, then look for me instead. ”
𓈒 ◌ ✶ Emotions were always hard for Ronan. They were overwhelming to feel and he often was at a loss for words on how to describe them or how to even ask for help. Loss, devastation, guilt, he felt those so strongly. In ever bone of his body. After the game, after every ounce of his energy had been used up, he had no choice but to let feels have control over him. They dictate his every thought. His arms and legs too tired to move but his brain was far too awake, replaying every mistake made and every missed opportunity to do better. This is what made him such a good player, but it also meant that he hardly ever rested.
He looked over at Marcos with tears in his eyes, the water clogging up vision. And the next thing he felt was a warm arm around him, pulling him in close. He relaxes into the man who doesn't seem to mind that they will be staying like those for a while. He takes deep breaths, trying to steady himself, to stop tears that are determined to fall. He is moderately successful. He nuzzles his face into Marcos' beard, loving the way the rough stubble feels against his skin. He used to do the same thing to his dad when he was kid. ❝ Thank you, ❞ he whispers back, or maybe he just thinks it. He can't tell.
He hopes that Marcos' words stick in head, that he can replay this moment over and over again until he believes it.
Eventually his breath steadies, it matches pace with man's. ❝ I will, ❞ Ronan says, his fingers reaching up to play with man's hair. ❝ I will look for you. ❞ ⸻ In every room, when I am lost, when I know my way, I will always do this.
𝐄𝐌𝐌𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐍 & 𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐘𝐑𝐍𝐄
@ercowboys , this past weekend chicago firebirds star ronan byrne was seen arm in arm with marine life educator, emma langdon, at a fundraising gala for marine life research.
#BEADDIT : hell is empty and the devils are here. a multi-muse of various media and original works. horror and thriller based.
𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐒 𝐃𝐔𝐎𝐅𝐔𝐑 & 𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐘𝐑𝐍𝐄 : 𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞. @reborns
Draft Portraits // Various images // From Eden by Hozier // Albert Camus to Maria Casarès, Correspondance, February 27, 1950 [#217] // Quote by Dr. Nicole Addison. Matthew 11:28 // Saint Jude pendant // Saint Anthony pendant.
SJS vs. CHI (2.2.26)
"You want one?" — CeleBedsy chitchats
CLOCKING IN AT 5'8" RONAN ALWAYS KNEW HE WAS SMALLER THAN MOST OF THE GUYS ON THE ICE. It took him some time to get used to the big leagues, but once he settled in he wasn't scared to push back against the larger dudes. He could trip, shove, pull, and punch like the rest of them. But Norén always had a way of making him feel small. Smaller than he actually was.
No matter what Ronan did when Detroit was around, it always felt like Isak was about to jump out of the shadows with a quip about what he should have done better, where he game was off, and how Isak was better than him. The Norwegian had a way of getting under his skin and staying there. Comments from others rolled off his skin, but everything number 20 said played on a loop in his head.
His face was beet red, full of embarrassment as Isak hoisted the younger player over his shoulder like he was a sack of laundry, a backpack, nothing ... anything but the nearly 200lbs of muscle he was. ❝ put me down, put me down, you fucking Swedish asshole. ❞ he lost all restraint. fists pounded into the player's back. bamp bamp bamp bamp. He kicked his legs int the air trying to throw his weight around and wiggle free. He looked like a toddler being put in time out. ❝ Me !? ❞ his voice cracked, ❝ you're telling me to behave. How many penalties did you get in the last game, huh? Fucking mature my ass. ❞ ⸻ @rushplay ; 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒.
𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐏 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 . . . ( pt 1. the art of touch ) Set the stage for longing glances, lingering touches, and the quiet tension of unspoken words. ✧ ˚₊ Themes: soft, slow burn & a touch of angst
✧ › SOFT & FLUFFY .
My muse tucks a loose strand of hair behind your muse’s ear, their fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary.
My muse falls asleep on your muse’s shoulder during a long ride.
My muse surprises your muse with breakfast in bed, complete with a handwritten note.
My muse pulls your muse under their umbrella during a sudden downpour.
My muse gently wipes away a tear from your muse’s cheek, their touch tender and careful.
My muse laces their fingers with your muse’s absentmindedly, only realizing it after a few seconds.
✧ › TENSION & SLOW BURN .
My muse fixes your muse’s tie/dress/jacket, their hands brushing against their skin for just a moment.
My muse leans in as if to whisper something, their lips dangerously close to your muse’s ear.
My muse catches your muse’s wrist before they can leave, their grip tightening just slightly.
My muse watches your muse from across the room, their gaze lingering even when caught.
My muse challenges your muse to a bet, knowing exactly what they’ll ask for if they win.
My muse absentmindedly plays with your muse’s fingers while they talk, not even realizing they’re doing it.
✧ › ANGST & EMOTIONAL .
My muse pulls your muse into a tight hug, as if afraid to let go.
My muse wipes away the blood from your muse’s face, their hands trembling.
My muse shows up at your muse’s doorstep in the rain, eyes filled with something unspoken.
My muse gently cups your muse’s face, whispering, “Why do you always have to make things so difficult?”
My muse kisses your muse like it’s the last time they’ll ever get the chance.
My muse lets your muse go, even though it’s the last thing they want to do.
✧ › TEASING .
My muse corners your muse against a wall, a smirk playing on their lips.
My muse whispers something in your muse’s ear that makes them blush.
My muse pulls your muse onto their lap with zero warning.
My muse playfully steals a bite of your muse’s food, then grins as they lock eyes.
My muse deliberately leans in closer just to see your muse’s reaction.
My muse drags their fingers slowly down your muse’s arm, pretending it was unintentional.
a tender glimpse beneath the surface
❝ i'll always protect you. ❞
❝ i never meant to get this close, but now that i have i can't let you go. ❞
❝ i live for the moments when you look at me. the rest of the time i'm just existing. ❞
❝ i don't like how you make me feel. but i like not being around you even less. ❞
❝ i wish you wouldn't look at me like that. when you look at me like that i...it makes me wanna do things i shouldn't ❞
❝ there's no line i wouldn't cross for you. don't you realize that? ❞
❝ i did this for you. no one else. ❞
❝ i don't like it, but i'll do it for you. ❞
❝ i wonder how much of myself i'll have to give to you—how much i have to lay bare—before you realize how much you're taking. ❞
❝ i'm not trying to fix you. i'm just trying to be your friend. ❞
❝ i'm not um, real good at thank yous. or sorry's. but if you ever need me, i'm there. i owe you one. ❞
❝ i've seen you at your worst and i'm still standing here. ❞
❝ you've seen me at my worst but you're still here... ❞
❝ you can be mad at me, i can take it. i'd rather you be angry than shut me out. ❞
❝ i'm not angry, i'm just scared. ❞
❝ i know you love me, but do you like me? ❞
❝ do you think i'm a good person? ❞
❝ do you think i care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference? of course i'm helping you. ❞
❝ tell me what i can do to show you how i love you. i will give you anything you ask for. ❞
❝ you don't have to keep apologizing. just be here. day in and day out and prove that you're gonna keep showing up. that's all you have to do. ❞
❝ i only sleep well when you're next to me. ❞
❝ i don't want an apology i just want to understand. ❞
❝ i could actually use a hug right now. ❞
❝ i want everyone else to go away, but you can stay. ❞
❝ i actually do care what you think about. you're probably one of the only people whose opinion matters to me. ❞
❝ you always seem to know what i need. ❞
❝ you always seem to know just what i need to hear. ❞
❝ i want you to call me when you need someone. i want to be here for you. ❞
❝ you're the one i wanna call when i need someone. ❞
❝ seems like i always want you around when everything feels all fucked up. guess that means something. ❞
⸻ ⋆✴︎˚。⋆ ♯ 𝟗𝟖 RONAN BYRNE , scores another goal for CHICAGO. a low activity hockey oc set in a fictionalized version of chicago. coached by byron ( he/they , 25+ ). template by gloomglimmer.