#and frankly im not sure how to respond

[huskersbooze]

Helloo! Can i Request an alastor x reader angst? (I love angst im sorry😭) where reader n alastor are good friends, but soon alastor starts catching feelings, he didn’t like that so he starts ignoring reader hoping it’ll go away, but when alastor realizes it doesn’t, he wanted to apologize for ignoring reader and maybe confessing, but he couldn’t cause he found out reader got redeemed into heaven? Please and thank you!!

A/N : Oh fuck yes I'm a sucker for angst. This is actually a really interesting concept! Completely opposite to my other fic where Reader ignores Al. Thank you for the ask <3

Alastor Doesn't Do Feelings

Alastor x Reader

Pairing : Alastor x F!Reader (M!Reader here, Gn!Reader here)

Warnings : Cusing(what do you expect? It's Hazbin Hotel)

Additional Tags : Angst, no use of (Y/n), use of dear/darling

Word count : 1.25k

It was never supposed to turn out this way. Alastor, the fucking Radio Demon, doesn't do feelings.

But here he was, finding himself getting flustered, his cheeks red, ears pinned back and his smile faltering.

And it was all because of you.

"-and so I told him to back the heck away, but I swear his brain can't seem to comprehend simple words! He-"

You went on and on about your day, but Alastor could only focus on the close proximity between the two of you and your hand came so close to brushing his every minute or so.

"Alastor! Freaking hell!" He snapped out of his trance when he heard you yell his name.

He cleared his throat, quickly gathering himself once more, "Yes, darling?"

"Were you even listening to me?"

"Of course, I was." Which, frankly, was a lie.

"Just go to bed, dipshit."

"I don't need sleep."

"Your brain is hijacked, Al." You try to give his ears a scratch. Alastor attempts a dodge but fails. "See? You can't even dodge a simple pet on the head."

"I let you do that."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Darling, you know I don't sleep."

"It was an expression, babe."

He knew you meant it as a joke, a light-humoured name you called him; like how he called you "dear" or "darling".

But he couldn't help the blush that found a way to his face.

"Alastor! You're doing it again!"

"I beg your pardon?" He snaps out from his trance.

"You're dozing off again. Are your radio parts radio-ing properly?"

"I'm not an actual radio, my dear."

"Well, you sure act like a broken down machine." You let out a giggle, him doing the same, but it ultimately sounded like he was buffering.

"You need help." You get up and give him another ruffle behind the ears, catching him off guard. "G'night, Al."

He doesn't respond.

He's too busy screaming internally.

-----

Alastor doesn't do feelings. Yet, here he was a broken mess because of you.

No, this was unacceptable. All he'd work for. His reputation. The danger it'd put you in.

He couldn't afford any of that gone — especially not you.

How was he to get rid of this weird churning he gets in his stomach when you near, though? How was he to stop loving you?

-----

Alastor doesn’t do feelings. He nearly did, once, because of you. But he’d found a way to stop it.

Or so, he thought.

“Good morning, Al.”

Out of everyone in the hotel, you were the one person he could tolerate. Despite your polar interests and behaviour, Alastor actually found it quite enjoyable to be by your side.

Sure, you rarely cursed, was so sweet and couldn’t bare the thought of killing, but Alastor never minded. You were the one person he looked forward to seeing everyday. He would usually only talk to you.

“Husker, may I have a word?” Yet, here Alastor was, completely ignoring your existence like you were some irrelevant imp a few rings down.

“Uh, sure, boss.” Husk sends you a questioning stare as you return the favour.

He didn’t actually have anything to say to him; it just hurt to see you. The feelings still lingered and he couldn’t do jackshit about it. 

Staying away from you was only supposed to get rid of his feelings, not intensify them.

“Alastor?” Yet, your voice captivated him in every way possible and his desire to be yours increased.

He simply left the room, and the two of you never spoke after that.

-----

“Alastor doesn’t do feelings, honey.”

“I know, Rosie! But we’re just friends and he knows that.” You take a sip from the tea Rosie prepared for you. “Though, lately, he’s been completely disregarding my presence like I’m the bane of his existence.”

“Don’t look too much into it! I’m sure it’s nothing. It’s just Alastor being Alastor.”

“But it’s not.” You sigh. “Something’s changed between us and I’m not sure what it is.”

“Well, did anything specific happen?”

“I.. I don’t know.” Your voice cracks at the agony. “I just.. Everything was fine that night. I just told him to sleep and the next morning it’s like I never existed.”

“Hm. That does sound odd.”

“Exactly! And I’m not sure what to do or if- if I’ve angered him- or- or maybe he’s sick of me-”

“Honey, breathe.” Rosie’s hand finds yours across the table as she rubs soothing circles on the back of your palm. “It’s in his nature to be sending mixed signals. Just give him time. He’ll come to terms with you eventually.”

“Are.. Are you sure?”

“You came to me for a reason.” She jokes, though her warm smile never left her face.

“Thank you, Rosie.”

-----

Alastor, your beloved strawberry pimp, doesn’t do feelings. He didn’t, he doesn’t and he won’t.

At least, that was before he realised he was catching feelings for you.

He’s tried so hard to ignore it. He’s done everything he could to ignore you, but despite his best efforts, you still found a way to float straight back into his mind.

“Alastor?”

“Yes, darling?” It took him a while to comprehend the fact he accidentally called Husk “darling”. His mind was just filled with thoughts of you.

“Uh.. anyways.” Husk cleared his throat. “You were close with the kid, right?”

“I suppose.” He shrugs, saying it as a matter of fact-ly. “Nothing serious.”

Alastor nearly flinched as he said it himself. 

Nothing serious.

But in fact, it was starting to get serious. He was in love with you, head-over-heels obsessed, but he couldn’t come to terms with the fact and decided to push you away.

Fuck. What was he thinking?

“Yes, well I just.. wanted to let ya’ know she’s-”

“In a minute, Husker.” He says, taking off and trying to find you. He had to apologize. He had to talk to you and explain himself. But then, that would mean he had to confess.

Confess. Alastor’s smile widened as he thought of the idea. Blush crept from his face all the way down to his neck and his tail was uncontrollably wagging under his coat.

He loved you.

Turns out, Alastor does, and will do feelings.

-----

“Husker, have you seen her?” After a whole day of looking around the hotel, he couldn’t seem to find you anywhere. 

“Her?” He asks, then immediately realising there could only be one her. “I was trying to tell you, boss. The kid.. The kid passed.”

“What?” His smile falters, eyes twitching, but still keeping his composure.

“Some drunk ass dude got hold of an angelic weapon from the last extermination. She was stabbed on her way back from cannibal town.”

The static in his ears were ringing louder by the second. This wasn’t supposed to happen. No, it wasn’t supposed to end like this. He was only supposed to get rid of his feelings, not you.

This whole plan backfired. It was a mistake. He kept what he hadn’t wanted, and lost what he desired.

-----

Alastor doesn’t do feelings.

He does, but only for you. He keeps his heart closed in hopes you’re still somewhere out there.

Any other demon who tries to get with him, ultimately gets turned down.

Alastor doesn’t do feelings, no; but he does feelings. He saves the romantic kind for you. The platonic ones, however, are open doors now because of you.

Alastor didn’t do feelings, but he does now — in hopes he gets redeemed and can find you in heaven.

———[ End. ]———

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #alastor #hazbin hotel season 1 #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel 2024 #alastor hazbin #alastor altruist #alastor fluff #alastor headcanons #alastor x reader #alastor x you #radio demon #alastor angst #hazbin hotel rosie #angel reader #alastor has a tail #alastor has a heart

[kenzisthings]

𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 (𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐲 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

it’s hard to be in a relationship when your siblings don’t like your boyfriend. especially your older sister mindy. being the youngest meeks-martin had its ups and down. and one of the downs is trying to get your sister to like ethan, your boyfriend.

“i don’t get it chad, she acts like ethan is going to slice me up and kill me.” chad hits you with a “really” look, making you sigh. “ok bad wording, but you know him! he’s your roommate. the dorky roommate who couldn’t even talk to me.” you flop down next to your brother on sam and tara’s couch. chad nudges you and grabs your hand. “look y/n, you have too understand why mindy feels this way. you’re our little sister. we can’t lose you.” you were just about to respond until your phone goes off. you pull it out you pocket and smile when you see ethan’s name and a picture of him anf you on your first date.

“answer loverboy, i’m going to go see if they need any help in the kitchen.” chad gets up and walks towards the kitchen where the rest of the gang was. you slide accept on the phone. “hey e, i was just about to call you. are you close?” you ask, you can hear the busy streets of new york in the background. “yeah i’m like five minutes away, uh i just called to make sure it’s okay im still coming over.” you giggle at your boyfriend. “of course it is why wouldn’t you think so?” you hear ethan sigh and take a breath, “well y/n it’s no secret that mindy doesn’t like me, and quite frankly i’m scared of her.” that makes you laugh. “hey it’s not funny. she can be mean.” you can hear the pout through the phone. “it’s going to be all good, i promise.” ethan reluctantly sighs, “ ok, i’ll see you soon.” you smile even if he can’t see it. “ok bye sweets.”

you hang up the phone and walk towards to kitchen, to see the sam, mindy, chad and tara looking at you in silence. “god who died in here.” you joke which receives a smack on the arm from chad. “oh nothing just talking about you and your romantic lover.” tara says in a sing songish way, making you giggle. you sit down and look at your sister who just glares at you. “oh come on mindy you still can’t be mad i invited ethan.” she scoffs and rolls her eyes. “y/n what have i told you. never trust the love interest!” you shake your head especially because she being hypocritical about this. “oh yeah how about you and your girlfriend, huh?” you retaliate. “ hey my girlfriend isn’t a werid, antisocial, nerdy boy who could be a killer.”

“who’s a killer?” you all turn around to see your boyfriend standing there awkwardly. “nobody’s a killer ethan, although i’d kill for this conversation to be over.” sam jokes but nobody laughs. you look at mindy who’s just staring at ethan and it makes you angry. angry that your own sister can’t trust your boyfriend or you. standing up put the attention on you, “hey tara can me and ethan talk in your room?” tara smiles at you and shakes her head yes. you start walking towards ethan and towards tara’s room. “make sure you keep the door open i don’t want any funny business!” mindy tells you making you give her the middle finger in return. “you don’t think there fucking do you?” mindy asks the group but their silent. “oh they are definitely sleeping together.” chad whispers underneath his breath shuddering as he remembers what he walked into last week going back to his dorm.

you lead ethan through tara’s and go to the door and lock it. you then go and sit on her bed and pat the spot next to you offering it too ethan. which he accepts and sits next to you. “how much did you hear.” ethan shrugs, “oh you know that i’m a werid, antisocial freak who’s also a killer. the usual from mindy.” you sigh and lean your head on his shoulder, to which he puts his arms around your waist. “i’m sorry e, i really am.” he kisses the crown of your head. “it’s ok y/n. she’s just trying to keep you safe.” you laugh how could he be so understanding and sticking up for a women who hates him.

you lay your head on his chest and listen to his heart beat for a few moments. “i know it’s hard for her to accept that i’m an adult now but it’s hard when your sister doesn’t like the boy you love.” you can feel ethan’s heart start to pick up as you said that, making you wonder if you said something wrong. you raise up from his chest to see him looking at you with those brown puppy dog eyes you love so much. “you love me?” you giggle and lean into his face to where your just mere centimeter from his lips. “of course i love you. i love the way you stutter when your flustered or the way you can go on about your favorite tv show. how i can be stuck on any subject and you always help me. i love the way you look at me like i’m the only person in the world, like it’s only us.”

ethan leans in closing the small gap in between you and kisses you. it’s a soft reassuring kiss. a kiss you want to last for ever but sadly it can’t. you pull away and rest your head against ethan’s. “i love you too and i would never hurt you.” he whisperes. you find it weird that he would say he wouldn’t hurt you but you brush it aside not to ruin the moment.

because of course he would never hurt you.

right?

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #jack champion imagine #jack champion x reader #ethan landry #jack champion #scream iv

[lostarchivesoforpheus]

Hello! Could you do Pure Vanilla Cookie x Fem! Ancient reader, whose kingdom is like a spiritual kingdom and The Reader Is just very stressed?? Like, very little time to eat, sleep, ect. How could PV maybe comfort her?? Have a nice day!!

`•- Time for Yourself

pure vanilla cookie x fem reader

summary: pure vanilla notices you haven't been acting like yourself lately. how does he help you feel better?

warnings: physical touch, pure vanilla is kind of a worry wart, also im not super proud of the writing on this one so im sorry if it's not as good as my other stuff :((

a/n: is it bad that when i went to the store today and saw pure vanilla extract on the shelf i thought of pure vanilla cookie

Pure Vanilla Cookie has noticed the lack of letters you've been sending him recently.

Of course, he knows that ruling a kingdom is no simple ordeal, and, of course, there's no way you would be able to send him a letter every day. However, despite that, you've always made sure to send him letters frequently and inform him of every nifty little thing going on in your life.

That is, up until roughly three and a half weeks ago.

You used to send him letters every four or five days to keep him updated on everything going on in your kingdom, and he always wrote back when he received your letters. However, when he responded to a letter you sent about three and a half weeks ago, you hadn't written anything back to him.

He found this behavior very strange, as you were always enthusiastic about being able to talk with him whenever you got the chance. Pure Vanilla Cookie was, frankly, getting rather worried about you and how you were doing. So, he decided to take a trip over to your kingdom to see for himself what was wrong.

When he finally arrived, Pure Vanilla Cookie was quick to stride towards your castle, making haste towards your office, where you spent most of your time. Gently knocking on the door, he quietly entered the room, as to not disturb you too much. He immediately notices your eyebags, the empty coffee mugs littered around your desk, and the way you don't even glance at him when he enters the room, thinking it was just some servant needing to ask a quick question or something of the like. Needless to say, when he spoke up, you immediately turned and stared at him in surprise.

"My Dear, has everything been okay lately?" He gently asks. "Ah! Pure Vanilla Cookie? What are you doing here?" You respond, shocked. You had no idea he was coming, you had no time to prepare, you didn't want him to see you like this.

"Are you alright?" He slowly walks toward you before draping his cloak over your shoulders, "You haven't responded to my letter for weeks, and you look awfully tired. How long have you been sitting here working today?" He looks at you with worry swirling in his eyes.

As you sit there failing to answer his question, he gently places a hand on your head and caresses your hair, sighing, "You need to remember to take care of yourself, you know. You can hardly handle this much work in the state that you're in. Why don't you rest for a bit?"

You look at him with tired eyes, attempting to provide a counter-argument, "I know, I know, but-" "No buts. You're going to go lay in bed and read a nice book to help you de-stress. I'll also fetch you some tea. Then, perhaps you can take a nap. You'll feel a lot better when you wake up," He suddenly picked you up, carrying you back to your bedroom before you can even say anything. Perhaps he was right though, as you were indeed doing a lot better the next morning. Perhaps self-care really is important after all.

a/n: not me writing a fic about self-care at 2 am when i haven't slept and i am in fact not taking care of myself lmao uhhhhhh i promise ill get some sleep once i finish up the rest of the requests i swear i pinky promise i swear

thanks for reading, and remember to take care of yourself! don't be like me lmao

#`•- side hall in the archives: hurt/comfort #fanfic #fanfic author #fanfiction #fanfiction author #x reader #cookie run #cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom #cookie run kingdom x reader #crk #crk x reader #pure vanilla cookie #pure vanilla x reader #pure vanilla cookie x reader #pure vanilla cookie run #pure vanilla cookie run kingdom #pure vanilla crk

[yelenasdog]

vibrant, saccharine, his ☼ (fwb!mat barzal x fwb!fem reader) 

genre: filthy smut, fluff, angst with happy ending

summary: pretending is getting harder, for both of them. and after a hard roadie, mat’s not sure if he wants to pretend anymore.

words: 8.7k (WOAH)

warnings: cursing, excessive use of parentheses, friends with benefits arrangement, smut, unprotected piv, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, blood (reader bit lip too hard oops!), pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty boy), reader is described as having sisters and a dog, food mention, idiots to lovers, misunderstood situation, reader uses she/her pronouns, and i think that’s it.

a/n: when i started this, i originally was just writing a blurb and then it turned into a full ass fic with a plot?? and fwb??? idk man, im nervy to post this since ive never published for nhlers before but oh whale! and ty to @eminems-skittles for reading this for me and checking it over 🤍 love u

“You played so good, baby.” She breathed, welcoming him home with open arms.

“Not good enough, apparently.” He responded, letting her fingers card through his raven locks. Soft, freshly cut. She loved when he grew it out, but yet again it was him, so anything worked.

She sighed, letting her thumb fall to his cheekbone, knowing what he was referring to. It had been the last stop of the road trip, he’d had a hatty and despite making it to OT, it wasn’t enough in the shootout.

He’d had to wait an entire flight and car ride afterwards to see her, only giving her a brief text when he got off the ice (“We lost. Had a hatty. Fucking Toronto.”) (like she hadn’t stayed up to watch the game) and another when he landed.

And after so long of whatever the two of them had going on, she’d known better than to try to send him some long and winded attempt at a pick me up message. She settled for just responding “I’ll be here.” She didn’t need to say it though, he knew she’d be there.

She always was.

To anyone else it would’ve been sad, how she waited up for him, late nights spent lonely with just her and her dog, as he jetted around North America. In her mind, he was no doubt giving himself away to whatever random puck bunny threw herself his way.

Despite this, she was loyal, even though she had her suspicions about what he did when they were apart. And frankly, it wasn’t a part of the “deal” that they had to be exclusive, and it was none of her business. But truthfully, after so long, she couldn’t count on some washed up juniors player to give her even a fraction of the satisfaction he had.

So, she did this whole routine, whatever this was. She stayed up late watching his games, sitting on her couch in his sweatshirt he left. She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but whenever she wore it, she liked to pretend.

Pretend that she was an obedient girlfriend wearing her loving boyfriends sweater. That as she sat curled up waiting on the corner of the beat up black sofa, 3 coffees in at approximately 1:37 am, she would be rewarded for her efforts come morning time.

That her and said loving boyfriend would lounge around together in bed (after he woke her up in the best way he knew how, showing her how grateful he was. Like I said, she loved when his hair was long enough to tug on, and even though she endlessly made fun of his patchy stubble, she couldn’t deny how delicious it felt burning between her thighs. Especially after they’d spent so long apart.) Then they’d go and grab late brunch, holding hands under the table as they sipped mimosas, which were Mat’s guilty pleasure only her and the waiter knew about, before heading home.

Maybe then they’d FaceTime his mom back in Coquitlam, an early riser with the 3 hour time difference. Mat had felt bad interrupting her morning routine, but she’d never pass up an opportunity to talk to her boy and the girl who she hoped was her future daughter in law.

After they got off the phone, she’d tell him how much she loved his mom, how her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. He’d tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, watching as she leaned into his touch.

“Missed you, Mat.” She’d say, closing her eyes.

“I missed you more.” He’d respond, his voice nearly a whisper. Her eyes would flutter open, and he’d recognize the look in them immediately. He felt his blood rush, and suddenly their proximity, which he’d never get used to, was very obvious.

“Oh yeah?” She asked. “I doubt that.”

He swallowed, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. Her eyes hungrily swept over them, wanting nothing more than to lean forward and capture them with her own.

But patience is a virtue, she supposed.

“Want me to prove it, pretty boy?”

Words failed him, and all he could do was nod. He relaxed into the sofa, watching as she dropped to her knees in front of him. Her hands were on either thigh as he fought the urge to lay his tired head back onto the beat up pleather behind him. It had been too long, he thought. And he’d be damned if he was going to miss out on seeing her do what he’d only imagined in the shower, or over the phone for the past 16 days.

She reached her hands up from the muscle of his thigh up to his tummy, her cold hands shocking him as she reached under his sweatshirt- the same one she’d been wearing before.

Her hands drifted, down, down, down, to the waistband of those damn Lululemon shorts she’d got him for Christmas. He held his breath, watching as they danced around where he needed her most and then-

The doorknob turns, and she’s brought back to reality. Sleep had almost claimed her, iced coffee left abandoned on the coffee table, a ring of condensation already drying on the glass. She attempts to smooth out her hair, hoping that her brief almost-nap hadn’t left her too disheveled.

Not that he’d care.

She stood to greet him as he opened the door, hockey bag, and garment bag, and duffle bag, and backpack, and- God, did he really need all that- and suitcase, dropped unceremoniously as he entered the threshold. He kicked the huge bag to the side, and it landed right under where her keys and her leash for her old mutt, Warrior, hung from the wall.

Above the leash hung a picture of her and her sisters, with her running shoes on the floor beneath it for easy access. They were nearly squished by the gear, and if it had been anyone else’s shit crushing her 160 dollar sneakers, she’d be angry. But the sight of his bag near her shoes was so weirdly domestic, she could’ve cried.

She, yet again, was snapped out of her fantasy by the closing of the heavy door, watching as the man in front of her shuffled forward, immediately allowing himself to be held by her. His head fell to her shoulder, and rather than the usual clash of teeth and shoving to get to her room, (they never went to never his place after a roadie. He needed to be away from the constant reminders of it all for awhile, just to be surrounded by her) she simply dropped a chaste kiss to his temple, letting her arm drop from his hair to his broad shoulders, squeezing once, twice, three times, on either one.

He stood up, and she led him to her room, though he knew the way well enough. Her hand in his felt nice, comforting, even, and he wasn’t going to complain. In the beginning of the arrangement the two of them had, touches like that had been normal. But as time went on, the barely there brushes and gentle caresses stopped all together.

He wanted to say something, wanted to ask her what was wrong, if it was something he did. But when he was off the ice, Mathew Barzal was not a man who liked to push his luck. So he didn’t. He let the touches slip away, and took what he could get from her.

Which right now, was toeing off his shoes, and crawling onto the plush comforter of her bed. It smelled like that sparkly ”fairy dust” shit from Lush he saw sitting on her bathroom counter once, cotton candy and bubblegum infiltrating his senses. That, and her favorite floral perfume he was all too familiar with on her pillow. A combination of scents he usually would find too much, sickly-sweet. But it was her, and that alone made it the most soothing aroma he’d ever known.

Initially when he’d gotten off the ice, the adrenaline had been pumping, and his anger had been rampant. All he’d wanted was to get home to her, have his way with her. To have an outcome he could control.

He’d kept himself relatively calm in the locker room, not having any outbursts towards Ilya, or anyone for that matter. If any of the guys had noticed he was uncharacteristically quiet, they didn’t say anything.

That is, until the bus ride to the airport.

He had been typing out his text to her, (Hatty, lost in OT, Toronto, you know the one), when he had felt a pair of peering eyes. Sitting in the back of the bus, he’d thought he’d done well to avoid such glances, but apparently not.

“Y’know, you shouldn’t be sulking so much.” A certain French-Canadian spoke, the brunette man’s tired eyes lingering over Mat’s hunched over form.

If there was one thing he didn’t need right now, it was more pep talks from Tito. He’d had more than his fill in the locker room. And though he loved the guy, he didn’t need to be told again how he “did everything right” and had a ”killer game”.

Because he knows, and that’s partly why he’s so mad.

Partly. As the other part is the fact that he wants more than anything to come back to NY to her arms. He was exhausted at this point, and rather than having his way with her, he now just wanted to be welcomed home into those ridiculously cozy sheets. He wanted her to light up all those overpriced candles she loved so much from Bath and Bodyworks, and for Warrior to snuggle up by him, stinky dog breath be damned. He wanted her to turn on ”Miracle” in the back as white noise, and laugh as she repeated all the lines from memory. (He may be Canadian, but he can appreciate a heart warming story told by Kurt Russell when he sees one.)

More than anything, though, he wanted her. And not just for an hour or two before he inevitably dragged himself out of those silky sheets that felt heavenly on his back, leaving her sleeping beside him. She looked peaceful in those moments, and he often wondered what she dreamt of. If she was dreaming of him as he did of her.

Bottom line was, Mathew was the victim of a series of unfortunate events. And the man to his left could recognize that it wasn’t just the hockey that was bothering him. (Though, that whole situation did suck pretty bad, he’d admit.)

So when Anthony told him he shouldn’t be sulking, he flashed him a tight lipped smile and a nod, before looking out the window at the Toronto sunset. The oranges and pinks were stunning, and more than anything their vibrancy reminded him of her. The smile she’d give him in her post-orgasm glow, or of the orange blossom on the bottle of perfume on her vanity. Beauvillier’s gaze never faltered, though, recognizing the deep train of thought his close friend was experiencing.

The screen of his phone had begun to darken, the draft of his message just barely visible. Tito’s eyes quickly shifted from the screen and back up to Barzy, opening his mouth and pausing momentarily.

“Who’re you texting?”

Mat quickly turned off the device, the “click” sounding out in the quiet bus cabin, most of the Islanders players catching some shut eye or watching that new Game of Thrones spin off.

Personally, Mat didn’t get the appeal.

“Nobody, just… a friend I’m visiting tonight when we get back.”

Anthony’s eyebrows went up, making a face of understanding as he slowly nodded three times.

“A friend, huh?”

Mathew nods, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and letting it go. “Yup.” He adds softly for good measure, popping the p.

“You visiting a friend after a game like that, this late, hm?” Another pause. ”Must be an important friend.”

“Yeah.” His voice is soft again, compassion coming across his features and he thinks of her again.

“Well“, Anthony starts, popping in his earbuds and opening his phone to his Music app. “I’d say whatever’s going on with this friend seems worth talking to her about.”

Mat‘s head snaps up, and he scoffs, shaking his head.

“I didn’t say that it was a she-“

“You didn’t have to, buddy.” Tito winks in the most annoyingly-Tito way, and chuckles to himself. He then lays his head back onto the navy material behind him. Mat “hmph”s to himself, doing the same. He turns his phone back on again, going to the chat between the two of them. The still blinking cursor seems like it’s mocking him as he runs a hand over his face, hitting send.

If there’s gonna be any deep, emotional shit, it can wait until he’s not 2500 miles away.

7 hours later when he finally crashes through her front door, he swears the relief he feels mixed with the sense of dread it all might be over in an hour, gives him whiplash. But nonetheless, she welcomes him in, and she feels like home.

Warrior watches from the couch, his tail lazily wagging as he observes his owner greeting the man who occasionally slips him bacon from his Starbucks sandwich. His old man (old dog?) body doesn’t find the arrival of the hockey player worthy of leaving his nest on the sofa, as to him that’s all Mathew Barzal is. The bringer of bacon.

To Warrior’s owner, though, he was so much more.

The trek to the bedroom felt like it took an eternity, and as he laid on her bed, he couldn’t help but wonder if it would be a bad idea to push his luck for once. Risk ending it all to gain everything.

She laid down next to him, and he shifted, going from laying with his arms crossed under his head, to one next to her head, the other keeping him stable from his position on top of her.

Her hand crept up to push an unruly lock out of his eyes, and she leaned forward, and he met her halfway. They paused briefly, taking each other in after so long, before finally closing to distance.

He tasted warm, like cinnamon and something she couldn’t place, and she wondered if at the airport he’d gotten one of those pretzels she knew he liked so much. To compliment his psychopath reminiscent black coffee, of course.

His hand went from where it had been cradling her face down to rest on her hip. The soft touch elicited a whimper, and at that he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers.

She recognized that something was off, swimming around in that pretty little head of his. A small frown etched its way onto her face, and she lifted his chin up so he had no choice but to look at her.

“What’s wrong, Mat?”

He took in a shaky breath, looking over to his left, where the TV was on some random wallpaper, a sunset, he realizes. He scoffs, looking back at her.

“Can you just- can we- can I- fuck.” He mutters, slowly falling down so his body weight is nearly on top of her.

“Can you just… hold me?”

She swears she’s never heard him sound so broken.

“Yeah, baby, ’course. C’mere.” She replies softly, allowing him to fully rest on her. It was a miracle that he didn’t fully break down right there, at the feeling of her fingertips dancing over his skin, under his pushed up shirt. His nose was cold against her neck as he dragged it up against her to come to her cheek, pressing a kiss there. His eyes never opened, afraid that if they did, it would all just be another elaborate fantasy he’d created to pass the time.

“Is this a good idea?” Came her voice, cutting through the silence.

He sniffles. “What do you mean?”

“This. Us.” She says, not able to meet his gaze where he’s lifted his head.

“We’re going to get hurt. More than we already have.”

Oh. Oh, fuck this was happening right now. Mat sat up, feeling like a scared teenage boy. Damn you and the way you read people, Beauvillier. Maybe this would’ve been easier from 2500 miles away.

“We don’t have to.”

“What other option do we have?” She said, sounding defeated, like she already knows her answer and she doesn’t like it. “I-I can’t keep doing this no strings attached shit. Not when you do this. Not when you come here all beat up like some sad puppy.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. And he was.

“Don’t be. I should’ve known this would happen.” Her voice was soft, her eyes distant.

“That what would happen?” He questioned. She looked at him like he had two heads.

“That you’d leave, Mat. That this whole pretending bullshit wouldn’t be enough for me.”

He leaned forward again, catching her off guard.

“I’m not leaving you. I’d never leave you.”

She looked away briefly, mentally cursing herself for being so emotional as tears began to well up in her eyes. He fell to her side, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“Do you really want this?” She asked, the tears rolling down her face illuminated a hue of pink from the salt lamp on the bedside table. Mathew reached out a hand, dragging his thumb over the droplet. He hated that she was crying, but fuck, she sure looked pretty while doing it.

His answer came without thought, he’d done enough of that on his way over.

“Yes. I want you in every way, if you’ll have me.”

A small smile came onto the corners of her face, and she nodded, shortly at first, but more exaggerated as they started laughing, a small “yeah?” escaping from Mathew. She responded with the same, and he took that as his sign to reach forward, closing the distance between them.

And like all the times before, they fell into their routine, her hands going down to his hips, lifting the gray material of his shirt over his head. He returned the favor, the two of them moving in sync as she lifted her hips and he gently slid off her shorts. He ran his palms along her bare thighs and she shivered at the feeling, a reaction that didn’t go unnoticed by Mathew.

“I missed you, y/n.” He admitted, running a hand through his, now, unruly hair.

Another vibrant smile came across her face, easing whatever nerves Mat had left over from his confession.

“I missed you more, Mathew.”

He shook his head, dipping down to leave sloppy kisses on her neck. Taken aback, she let a shaky breath escape. He pulled back, satisfied with the response he’d pulled from her.

“Not possible.”

In a moment of boldness (and a slight hope to allow a fantasy to come to life) she challenged him.

“Prove it, then.”

His eyes darkened, then, and he surged forward. Her remaining clothes, which was just his sweatshirt and a flimsy cami, were gone in an instant. She was left in just a pair of black undies, Mat nearly cumming on the spot at the sight, like he’s some horny teenager. His apparel soon joined the growing pile on the floor, as she made a remark about how it wasn’t fair he was still so covered.

She shamelessly raked over his naked form, save for the black boxers, with his firm muscles, sore from the roadie, prominent as ever. She might’ve been drooling, she wasn’t sure. He smirked, the effect he had on her not lost to him.

The two began to kiss again, and there was no other way to describe it other than that it just felt right.

Mathew wasted no time, allowing his hand to trail down and cup her clothed heat, his thumb passing over her clit and past her entrance with a feather light touch. She shivered, her hips lifting up to chase the brief sensation. He pulled her panties to the side, teasing her entrance with his middle finger.

It was immediately covered in her slick, as was the black fabric he’d moved aside. It made him groan just from the sensation alone, making her chuckle at his behavior. Her laugh soon was cut off as he sunk the finger in, giving her no time to adjust, not that she needed it with how ready she was for it, before adding another.

His palm just barely grazed her begging clit as he pumped in and out slowly. And as she continued to lift her hips trying to feel him deeper, push his hand closer to her clit, she fully expected him to push her down and put her in her place.

But this whole thing was about showing him how much he missed her, how much he appreciated her. To show her that he was staying. And him staying meant that he’d have plenty of chances in the future to be an insufferable tease, but right now wasn’t one of those times.

“Matty, please-“ it was more of a breathy whine, not intelligible to an untrained ear. But thankfully for her, that wasn’t Mat.

“You want more, baby?” He questioned, knowing the answer. She nodded, hair splayed around her like a halo on the pillow. She was still illuminated from the TV screen and the salt lamp, making her look like an angel of sorts, not of this world.

“Look at me then, sweetheart. Wanna see that I’m makin’ you feel good.”

Her eyes that met his were glazed over and doe like, and it melted Mat’s insides at just one look. He did his best to push down the mushy feeling that arose, before realizing he didn’t have to anymore. He could feel as sickeningly in love as he wanted, no consequences.

“You’re so beautiful, baby. So needy, fuckin’ perfect girl.” He remarked, adding in a third finger. She let out a borderline pornographic cry, and Mat picked up his pace. His gaze only faltered from her face, contorting in pleasure, back to where he was pumping in and out of her, unable to resist the urge to watch in amazement.

Though her legs were flailing, going from propped up to sliding down and spread, rustling the comforter, she somehow had enough mind to reach a hand down. She attempted to run tight circles around her clit, but not before her hand was pinned to her side by the center above her,

“No, baby. Lemme.”

His range of motion was wider and his thrusts harder as he curled his fingers to perfectly hit that spot inside her that made her see stars, fully trailing his hand over her sex. He repeated the action again, and again, and again- and fuck, she didn’t know how long she’d go on like this but she never wanted the feeling to stop.

He felt her tighten around him, and he picked up his pace, knowing she was almost there.

“Mat!” she managed to get out between strangled moans and panting breaths. He leaned down, kissing below her ear on the one spot he knew drives her crazy. She was halfway thinking, well, less than halfway with her state at the moment, that he would cruelly pull his hand away as she reached her peak. So she clamped her thighs together in an attempt to trap him, subconsciously more than not.

It didn’t stop him from grinding his palm against her like he had been, leaning down to capture her lips with his in a searing kiss.

Everything at once was just so much, the obscene sounds coming from both their mouths and her wet heat, the feeling of Mathew’s bare skin on top of her, the feeling of warmth radiating from his body, and oh my God, after so long it’s fucking finally happening-

He felt as her chest seized and she pulled away from the kiss, her head slamming back before falling to the side. She cried out, her orgasm hitting her like nothing had before.

He found her lips in the chaos beneath him, his hand parting her thighs as she went lax, lazily pumping in and out as she rode out her high. Her slick coated the inside of her thighs, and Mat pulled away momentarily and she whined, like the little brat she was allowing herself to be.

He only smirked, leaning down to kiss on her collarbone, letting his tongue sweep over the seemingly shimmering expanse of skin before him. He moved further down, savoring the taste of her, how it felt to be so close to her. No guards up, no shields, no screening involved.

She moved her ring clad hands to run fingers through his locks, that fucking smile coming across her face. He looked up from where his hands were holding either side of her waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh just enough to not make it hurt, but to say “I’m here. I’m not leaving.” His chin rested above her bellybutton, and he felt suddenly seen, bashful almost. He continued his trail down in a half assed attempt to hide his face, her breath hitching when he made it to her mound.

Her breath barely returned to her as he skipped over where she thought he was headed, instead opting to take her right leg over his shoulder, moving down the expanse of it to her ankle. He brought his eyes to meet hers, and a tender hand ran up and down the distance of it. He kissed the inside of her ankle, making his way up to the skin where her thigh met her already aching sex.

He lightly nudged his nose against the area, before attaching his lips. He started sucking on the skin there, licking her clean. Satisfied, he moved to the other side, beginning his good work.

“Mat,” she broke her silence, her voice splintered and low, “don’t tease. Please.”

He raised his eyebrows, seemingly in jest.

“I think we’re a little far gone from teasing, eh?” He asked, and truthfully, one mind blowing orgasm later, they were.

She chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever hotshot.”

“New nickname?” He questioned. “I like it.” He huffed, returning to his place between her legs. “But I fucking love this pussy, baby.”

And with that, he dove in. He immediately groaned at what he had found. (Which, obviously, caused her to tug at that perfect head of hair, eliciting another groan.)

If possible, she had become even wetter with the mix of his spit and her nectarine juices. It dripped down his chin, and he wanted to stay there forever. He’d found solace there, he thought. No Maple Leafs, no Tito, no hatty that meant jackshit in the end.

Just her and her consummate being. Vibrant, saccharine. His.

He wasn’t sure how long he spent drawing her closer and closer to the edge, but somewhere between repeated chants of praises and whatnot, he’d slipped.

“Fucking love this cunt, fucking love you-“

He hadn’t realized what he said, and if he had, he didn’t seem to care. But his words alone were enough to rip an unassuming orgasm from her. She didn’t allow herself long enough to think about if he meant to say it or not, or even to ride out the aftershocks rolling through her nerves. She grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him away from her glistening cunt and up to where she connected their lips.

A small sound of surprise, not reluctance, escaped from where they were joined. Her hands came to cradle either side of his face, and Mat thinks that he might’ve cried from the tender action. He wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t going to ask. Hey, it’d been a long day.

“You mean it?”

He realized what he had said, then, eyes wide and somehow his face even more flushed than before. He considered lying, like when Tito had asked who he was texting and he’d said a friend.

But where would that leave him, he wondered?

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I did.” He added after a beat of silence.

And in those few moments nothing had seemed scarier.

Not when he was 18, getting skipped over by teams in the draft, and that voice in the back of his head had told him that, somehow, everyone had collectively decided to skip Mathew Barzal. Not when he was 19 playing in his first game for the Isles, having to follow up Auston Matthews first NHL game where he had four goals. Four. Fuck.

No, all that was topped by this. By the same fear he’d had earlier when he’d been on the bus, or when he’d arrived at her apartment.

But all of that fear was dissolved in a second after her laugh sounded out in the small bedroom, her eyes crinkling at the edges. She pulled him down towards her, and the sound of her laughter pulled a radiant smile from the hockey player that he felt like hadn’t seen the light of day in a long time.

She rolled over on top of his chest, leaning forward and throwing her arms around his neck. His chain was glinting, now, in the light she had previously been bathed in, and it caught her eye as it rested against his milky complexion.

“You looooove me.” She regarded in a sing-song voice, and Mat rolled his eyes despite the smile growing on his face. She leaned down, and Mathew’s grip on her bare hips tightened, all too aware of the wet spot left on his stomach from her leaking sex.

She mirrored his previous movements down his chiseled body, a regular Adonis in his own right. She left open mouthed kisses, the wet patches from them adding to the thin sheen that covered his body. She made her way down to his boxers, the obvious tent making her stifle a laugh. He caught it though, of course, and rolled his eyes for what seemed like the millionth time.

“Laugh it up, babe. Laugh at my misery.” He commented, to which she only shook her head.

“Patience is a virtue, Mathew.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Well, he had a point there.

So rather than talk, she decided she’d put her mouth to good use. She pulled down his boxers at a painstakingly slow rate, watching as his cock slapped up against his stomach. Her mouth watered at the sight, the tip red and weeping, begging to be attended to. He kicked off the boxers, paying no mind to how they slipped onto the floor, forgotten. She didn’t either, as she was sure he had to have some extra in one of his gazillion bags sitting in her entry way.

Her nails scratched down his stomach, angry red lines puffing up and decorating around the expanse of his skin. They were accompanied by freckles and marks and scars that she could have mapped together with her eyes closed. She knew Mathew like the back of her hand. And with that, came knowing how to make him come undone in her hands.

She started leaving small kisses at the base of his shaft, before swiping the bead of precum from his head down to the rest of him. She pumped her hand a few times, and Mathew let out a strangled moan. She thought he couldn’t get any louder, feeling bad for her neighbors at whatever hour in the night it was, but she was quickly proven wrong.

She licked a long stripe from the bottom to his tip, before taking as much of him into her mouth as she could. She bobbed her head a few times, jacking off whatever she couldn’t fit with her hands. She hollowed her cheeks, and the rise and fall of Mathew’s chest quickened. The sound he let out was animalistic, and it sent another wave of arousal through her body. She moaned involuntarily, and the feeling caused Mathew to buck his hips.

“You’re doing so good, baby. ‘M not gonna last with you going at me- shit- like that.”

He brought a large hand down to the side of her face, lightly stroking her cheek. It was a moment of wholesomeness that reminded them what they were now, what he had said.

Mat could tell she was tired, her pace decreasing. The look in her eyes never changed, though. And as he went to speak to tell her it was okay, and she didn’t have to (and because since it had been so long, he was scared he’d bust his load if she wasn’t careful), she pulled off.

A string of saliva followed, and the sight looked like a thumbnail of a shitty porno. Her eyes were droopy and glazed over, and Mat’s hypothesis was proven correct.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to finish. Let me take care of you.” He repeated his sentiment from earlier. She only shook her head, continuing to jack him off with her hand. Oh. He thought. That’s not what I was expecting.

“S’okay, Matty. Wanna make you feel good.”

She ran her thumb over his tip again, her glassy and swollen bottom lip hanging ajar as she concentrated. The moans he was letting slip free could only be described as pathetic, the 190 pound hockey player putty in her hands.

“I’m gonna cum if you don’t, God, baby, shit! I-If you don’t stop.”

And then she pulled her hand off, and he let out a quick breath at the momentary relief, if that was even the right word. But it was short lived, and she managed to hoist herself up, dragging her folds along his cock, before stabilizing herself with hands on his chest. He slid inside of her, and the sounds they both let out echoed off her walls.

She started moving, and then it was “You’re fuckin’ amazing, you know that? So fuckin’ amazing. My girl, my perfect girl.” He rambled, the events of just that day alone scrambling his mind trying to keep up. Similarly to how she felt earlier, everything was just too much for the poor man. She felt like Heaven around him, and he watched in awe from below her as she moved, enamored by the woman he loves.

As she became more and more tired, her movement slowed, reduced to her grinding herself down on his cock. Mat was barely hanging on, trying to make it last as long as possible. He could tell she was close too, as she squeezed him like a vice, and put her energy into picking up her pace.

“Fuck, Matty. Feels s’good. Love you- shit! I love you so much, baby.” She told him, her eyes closed and her face screwed up as she chased her high. But something snapped in Mathew at her confession, and with a quick “fuck” under his breath, he flipped the two of them without ever leaving her.

He was relentless.

He slammed in and out, and at the sudden change in position and pace, she was blindsided. She thrashed around him, her hands everywhere at once. Her hair, his hair, grasping at his shoulders, scratching down his back. She settled for his biceps, as his hands were planted. One on the right side of her head, the other gripping her hip bone so hard, she was sure it’d bruise.

“It’s only ever been you, baby. I promise you.”

“Shit, Mat!” She cried, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She loosely draped her legs around his middle, allowing him to reach new depths within her. He was fucking her senseless, and they fucking loved it.

“It’ll only ever be you. I love you. Fuck, I love you so much, Y/n.” His hair hung in his eyes as he fought to keep them open. He shook it out of his eyes, wanting to see her as she came in all her glory.

“Love you, Mat. So much, baby. You have no idea.”

His pelvis snapped harder against her, just barely reaching up and grazing her clit in the most exquisite way. The rope in her stomach began to tighten for the third time that night, so close to breaking she could almost taste it.

Actually, she could taste it, she realized. She had been biting down so hard on her bottom lip she could taste the metallic tang on her tongue, and fuck, it was all the more delectable.

“Mat!” It was another exclamation, followed by more babbles. “‘S too much, Matty, can’t do it.” Her voice was small, and despite the nature of the statement, Mat felt his heart flutter.

He shook his head. “Yes, you can, baby. I know you’re tired, but you can do it, Y/n. You’ve got another one in you sweetheart, pull through for me. I’ve got you.”

And never one to disappoint, especially not her Mathew, she did.

She came, and she came hard. But it wasn’t dramatic the way you’d think it’d be, at least not outwardly. Her breathing stopped, her toes curled, and her nails dug into the skin on Barzy’s arms. It wasn’t accompanied by a loud scream, or a drawn out, high pitched moan. It was a breath of relief that left her when she came, her head falling to the side and her eyes closing. A quiet moan of Mat’s name, and she was clamping down on him.

The sweet way his name fell off her tongue, mixed with how she was so damn tight around him as she came, and he was done for. It triggered his own orgasm, and he felt the same feeling of peace wash over him that she had as he spilled into her. He fucked her through it, soft thrusts calming whatever aftershocks they both were experiencing. She had gone limp under him, her eyes opening as she gave him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.

He stayed in her, lowering himself onto his side, then maneuvering them so she was laying on him. They were a cliché and they knew it, but they couldn’t seem to care. A few moments passed in comfortable silence, before it was broken by Mathew’s scratchy post-sex voice. Swoon.

“So,” he started. She raised a brow, wondering where he was going with this.

“You looooove me, too, then?” He mimicked her tone from earlier, and they broke out in a fit of laughter as she slapped his arm and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I guess you’re alright.” She feigned annoyance, propping herself up on her right arm as she faced the man she loved. Mat scoffed, blowing a strand of hair from his forehead. “Just alright? You’re crazy, lady.”

“But you love me.”

Not a beat passed before “I do.”

She smiled softly, lifting up a hand to run a finger along his jaw. He caught it with his own, never breaking eye contact as he kissed her palm. Again, swoon.

“I know.” She responded, wanting to stay in that moment forever. But, she knew that if she stayed where she was too long, she’d more than likely fall asleep in record time. So, she pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, which he turned to catch before she could go, pulling her back for a “real” kiss at his protest.

A petulant child, that’s what he is.

She pressed one more to his lips for good measure, before pulling himself off of him. They both let out disgruntled sounds at the sudden losses, and it took all her energy to sit up on the edge of her bed. She felt a strong jaw on her shoulder, and she leaned into it.

“Where you goin’? Leaving me all alone isn’t very nice.” She could hear the frown in his voice, and even though she knew he was joking, it tugged on her heartstrings that little bit.

“Gotta pee.” She said, standing up and walking towards the connecting bathroom. “Sorry baby, no UTIs for me.”

The frown stayed cemented on his face.

“You should be grateful,” she threw over her shoulder, shutting the door. “No UTIs, more fucking, yeah?”

He chuckled at her bluntness, deciding to go and get her some water and maybe a snack. Shit, he didn’t know. What was he supposed to do? Usually when they fucked before, her or Mat would be out the door as soon as possible, still trying to ward off those pesky feelings. But now, he was allowed to feel said pesky feelings, and he’d be damned if he fucked it up.

So, snack. And water? Yeah, water, for sure. He was hungry and thirsty, why wouldn’t she be. He had no idea the way around her kitchen, nor how to, er, actually make anything, so this would be rough. But, first, a pit stop.

He would have walked butt-ass naked into her kitchen, really, but then he remembered Warrior was out there and he didn’t have a need to traumatize that dog any further than he already was.

(It was one time, okay? He didn’t know she had a dog, he’d been asleep on his bed by the TV when they’d gotten to her place. And at the time, Mat was too preoccupied to notice.)

He looked around on the floor for the offending clothing item, slightly grossed out when he did finally find them. It was only for a minute, tops, is what he told himself, as he pulled on the boxers from earlier in the night.

He tiptoed, for literally no apparent reason, through the dark apartment until he found the bag he was looking for. He grabbed what he needed from it, struggling with the zipper while trying to close it, before giving up. On his way back to her room, he gave Warrior a nod and smile, and he swore the mutt gave one back. Okay, actually, on second thought, he remembered the clock on her microwave saying it was 3:18 AM, so, maybe he didn’t.

It was late and he just had the best sex of his life with the woman he loves. Give him a break. So what if he’s delusional and thinks he can communicate with dogs? At least he’s pretty.

When he gets to her room, he pulls on the newer, clean, pair of boxers, setting the other pair he grabbed from his bag on the bed for her when she got out of the bathroom, along with an Islanders shirt that he’d secretly always wanted to see her in. Too soon? Maybe. But after so long yearning for everything domestic and wholesome and good that he was convinced he didn’t deserve with her, he was indulging a little bit. So sue him.

His next stop, snacks. And water, can’t forget the water.

The water was easy enough, he got lucky. He grabbed her “emotional support cup” as she’d called it before when she thought he wasn’t listening, and went over to the fridge. He got a few ice cubes and put them in, and then went over to her Brita. He stood there, pressing down on the little lever, watching the steady stream of water into the cup. It was almost laughable, how he stood there in the dead silence, concentrating so hard. He was determined not to somehow do something wrong, even though it was just pouring a cup of water. Cute.

He checked the pantry once the cup was full, with the lid safely screwed on top. The rustling about caught the attention of Warrior, who hopped down from where he’d been on the couch, moseying on over.

Mat, who still was slightly wary of Warrior, despite the fact the dog would cause him no harm, shook his head at the mutt.

“Sorry, buddy. I don’t have anything for you.”

He turned his head and gave him puppy dog eyes, pulling out all the stops. Mat sighed, looking back to the pantry. He saw a box of Milkbones, and looked back to Warrior, who was egging him on. (They’re telepathically connected, remember?)

He reached in the box, pulling one out, and tossing it down. Warrior gratefully accepted, taking his treat and waltzing off to his bed to chow down. Mat looked in the pantry, going to close the box, when he sees it, his saving grace.

White bread, hallelujah.

He can do toast. Mathew Barzal is a totally capable 25 year old man who can make toast. So, he takes the bag, going over to the toaster. And-

One look at all those fancy buttons, and he’s tapped out.

Okay, it’s okay, he can remember seeing a vending machine on his way into her apartment. Yeah, he remembers her telling him about having to sign off on some HOA form for it, even though she was just renting. Apparently, her landlord hadn’t signed, which made it her job. Whatever, that’s irrelevant.

He figured that there wouldn’t be anybody out in her hallway at 3:23 AM, so he grabbed his coat with his wallet, shrugging it on over his bare back. His slides were somewhere in his hockey bag and the last thing he wanted to do was stink up her whole place by opening that Pandora’s box. So, barefoot it is.

He does his best to sneak out the apartment, leaving the door ajar as he makes the short walk to the vending machine, grateful his search was over. He let out a long sigh as he stood, wondering what to get her.

For himself he decided on a bag of cool ranch Doritos, and a bag of those tiny cookies. For her, he racked every corner of his brain for potential options, before realizing how long he’s taking, and how long he’d been gone. So, not wanting to waste any more time, he elected for one of everything.

He punched in the numbers and paid, attempting to grab them from the machine. Trying to pick up the few that had fallen, he leaned down. His attention was called elsewhere by the ”click!” of a door a few units down. His head snapped to the source of the sound.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” He muttered under his breath upon what he saw.

A man probably not much older than himself, suitcase and backpack in tow, donned in, you guessed it, a New York Islanders hoodie a lá number 13.

The man had yet to notice the star player down the hall from him, and Mat was considering just making a run for Y/n’s place. But either way, he would have to go past the man, or the man would have to go past Mat to get to the elevator. Maybe he’d take the stairs? He hoped. Shit, who was he kidding, he’s not taking the stairs.

Starting his walk over, the unnamed Islanders fan lifted his head, stopping in his tracks. His jaw dropped, and if it wasn’t purely because of being in the presence of Mat Barzal, he had a hunch what it was.

Said hunch, was that it was due to the fact Mat Barzal was standing in front of him, in an apartment complex definitely not boujee enough for him to be living in, at 3:25 in the morning, naked, except for boxers and some fancy trench coat, holding several bags of snacks.

Mat would’ve laughed at the guys face, but he thought he wasn’t quite in the position to do so.

“Hey, man. How’s it going?” And a stupid bro nod, was all Mathew could manage.

-

While he was facing that debacle, Y/n was having one of her own.

After she’d gone to the bathroom, she decided to try to do her nighttime routine, too. She put on her robe from where it had been hanging in her bathroom, beginning her little routine.

When she emerged 10 minutes later, Mat was nowhere to be seen.

His bags were still by the door, albeit one of them hastily thrown open. Was he leaving and had gotten some clothes and an Uber? Did he have last minute regrets? The door to her place was left open, and an overwhelming sadness began to take over her system. As the tears began to well up, she looked over to Warrior, only to notice him chewing on… a milkbone? How the hell did he get a milkbone?

She sniffled, wiping her sleeve under her nose. She sat down on her couch, looking at where her iced coffee from earlier was still sitting, ¾ of the way empty. The tears started to flow freely again after that, and she stood up, deciding that she should at least shut the door. She didn’t need to deal with a robbery, too.

As she stood and turned, she was met with a very discombobulated and very underdressed Mat trying to shove his way through the door.

“Have a good flight, man. Enjoy Miami!” Mat called over his shoulder to what sounded like her neighbor Gian, based off of the “Thanks bro, good luck this season!” she heard back.

She slapped a hand over her mouth, trying to not bust out laughing at the sight in front of her. Hearing her snickering, he looked up gesturing to the bags in his arms.

“Hungry?” He asked, the smile on his face falling when he saw the red around her eyes. He dropped all the snacks on the couch to his right, making his way over to where she stood.

“Hey, hey, why’re you crying? What’s wrong sweetheart?” He questioned, and his sincerity made her smile widely.

“Nah, I’m all good, don’t worry about it. Just thought you’d left, that’s all…” A pause. “But I see now that you just had a case of munchies, apparently.”

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders pulling her towards his chest. His chin rested on her head, and she closed her eyes, inhaling his scent.

“No, baby. God, no, I’m not leaving. I just wanted to do this whole thing right, and I thought you might be hungry, and I tried to make toast- your toaster is really complex by the way,”

She pulled away from him as he rambled, her smile reaching her eyes.

“And I filled your water and set out clothes for you and I really did try, baby. I didn’t mean to fuck anything up, really.”

She giggled again, taking hold of the shoulders of his jacket, shrugging it off. She folded it over the back of a barstool, then turned back towards Mat.

“And Gian?”

“Oh yeah, he’s cool. Ran into him in the hallway and introduced myself. Going to visit some family in Miami.”

She raised an eyebrow, nodding her head in understanding. She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his middle.

“So, am I gonna have to compete with him for your attention now whenever you come over?”

He reciprocated the action, one hand coming up to rest on her chin.

“I mean, he’s gonna be gone for two weeks, but after that…” he shrugged, trailing off. She hummed, and he smiled at her, leaning forward. He searched her eyes for any remaining upset, unable to find any, before he pressed his lips to hers. It was sweet and gentle, with not a hint of rush or fervor.

When they pulled apart, she was smiling again. Her hands found their way back to his neck.

“And baby, you’re amazing. You didn’t fuck up anything at all, I promise.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” She whispered, leaning in again to connect their lips. She let her tongue sweep over his bottom lip, biting down just barely before pulling away. She pushed down the sleeves of her robe just a bit, exposing her shoulders. Y/n took his hand, and started walking backwards, letting it slowly slip out of hers as she did.

“Come on, hotshot. Come to bed. Snacks will still be there in the morning.”

She smiled again briefly, before walking towards her room, the robe slipping down as she went. Mat stood watching her in total awe, glued in place, until he was knocked out of his trance.

“Hurry up! And lock the door, too, please!”

He had never obliged to anything quicker in his life.

(And as for the snacks, they were not still there in the morning, thanks to a certain mutt who managed to rip open all the packets on the couch. The next morning was spent at the vet, who had told them Warrior would be fine, just fat. The vet had only said this, though, after Mat had consoled a crying Y/n, who was under the impression he was going to be poisoned.

The rest of the day after that? Making up for lost time.)

FIN.

YO idk if that was good or not i kind of feel like i imagined writing the entire thing and it was a fever dream. but. anyway! if you liked it, be sure to reblog <3 thank u i love u! go eat some protein and drink some water. 

xx, hj

#mat barzal x reader #mat barzal smut #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader smut #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal comfort #mat barzal x reader fluff #mat barzal x fem reader #mat barzal x y/n #mathew barzal x reader #mathew barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fan fiction #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #nhl smut #bro i fr fr projected abt my ex bf in this SO HARD #LMFAOAOOA #but. anyway.

[ilovebadgirlriri]

Neva End-Onykapon

Warnings: failed talking stage,virgin reader,lowkey based on true events (cameron imy bby)ps im not a writer m just boreddd

It’s like he manifested you,or maybe you had attachment issues,either way you couldn’t stop thinking about what could’ve been.It’s been what 3 months and yet you still couldn’t stop thinking about him,someone you only knew for a little while.You’ve never felt so drawn to a man before like he was your calling.

An attempted talking stage had you in deep thought for a while.Imagining just what could’ve happened if you both were taking each other seriously.All it took was one “hey”text for you to be out of your mind again you were just clearing your head of him but he just had to come back and claim a unholy hold on you.He always came back and you always entertained it because quite frankly you couldn’t get enough of him.

His smooth brown skin that had tattoos running from his neck down to his upper body.His extremely athletic body,his smile that glistened due to the gold grills lying perfectly on his straight white teeth.His voice the way it made you feel uneasy every time he spoke.

He knows what he does to you how he makes you feel the grip he has on you.You were just to shy to admit,you wanted so bad to just tell him how you really felt,wanted to be more than just a failed talking stage turned stranger.You so believed he had a purpose to you in your life why else would you be so hooked on him he had to mean something right?

wyd? another text caught your attention making you snap out of your thoughts.don’t respond,don’t respond,don’t respond

Before you know it your hands did the thinking picking up your phone responding with a simple “hey,doing homework” “wsup?”It had been a while since he texted you although you were sure you knew why you couldn’t help but to wonder

incoming call-Maybe Onyy💞

Call?He’d never called you before it was always texting and maybe a brief conversation at school before you both split ways.What had changed now?You answered in silence your breathing a little heavy with your nerves high.

“i wanna see you.”ony says over the phone his voice just as you remembered though you briefly heard it a total of 3 times.He wants to see me?You thought that was a odd statement you and him could barely hold a conversation over text let ahold in person.

“huh”You say raising a brow genuinely confused.

“you heard me,can i come get you?”He chuckled lowly.You could hear movement on the other side of the phone.You were speechless was this for real happening or were you in one of your sick fantasies.

“y/n?”he says to see if your still on the phone.Well this was pretty embarrassing.

“oh um yeah i guess”you say trying to hold in your emotions and sound as nonchalantly as possible

“you guess?”he snickers you can hear he was smiling and you cursed yourself for thinking of good he probably looked with his gold custom grills.

“m just a little confused this was kinda random you gotta admit ony.”You said truthfully

“i know but i just wanna see you and talk to you y/n,can i come get you?”he says as you hear the sincerity in his voice.He sounded genuine as if he really needed to speak with you.You waited a little as if you were thinking already knowing your answer.

“y-yea”You respond

“Ill be there in a hour.”He says hanging up the phone.He still had your location so he knew were you were,you never to stop sharing still feeling a bit attached to him.

You got up to get ready throwing on something simple yet decent you fixed your boho island twists so they looked presentable.Examining yourself in the mirror you approved your appearance.To say you were nervous was a understatement.You never linked with boys,never hung out with boys,never talked with boys.Hell you didn’t even do the whole talking stage thing.Ony was the first to be completely truthful.

You never worried about getting with boys too shy to convey.Your confidence was really unbalanced so you liked it better this way.But something about Ony just made you wanna become something much more.

maybe ony💞💞:outside

Your breath got caught reading over the text.You sat up grabbing your tot bag,charger,wallet, vaseline and perfume.You jogged downstairs letting your roommate know you’ll be back as she nodded in approval too focused on her anime on tv.You walked to ony’s red tesla before opening the door to see he was man spread gazing over your appearance.

“hey”you mumbled,you were sure he didn’t here but at least you tried.

“what chu said mama?”he questions smirking using context clues he could figure out what you said but he just wanted to hear you say it again because he knows your shy.

You roll your eyes playfully not able to wipe your smile off your face. “hey ony”you say loud enough for him to hear,and man did he wanna loose it your voice was so angelic it had this sweet tone ghat blessed his ears and he wanted more wanted to hear you talk his head off.

“How you been?”Ony stars off before pulling off from your apartment complex driving off to who knows where.You felt so eery as if this doesn’t feel real.You were really in a boys car.Onys car.

“i’ve been well.”You reply simply

“just well?you don’t gotta be shy with me y/n i wanna know you better.”He says looking over at you at the red light.

You rubbed your palm on your leggings before taking a deep breath in.

“i know.”you respond looking over at him to see he was already looking at you.He pulled up to a huge abandoned mall parking lot.It was empty but had small dim lights everywhere with about two other cars in the parking lot.

“i’ve been thinking about you ,ya know?”He finally says turning his attention towards you. “a lot actually”He continues before waiting for your response.

“me….why?”you say curiously you look up at him batting your lashes.You were also thinking about like all the time you didn’t expect him to do the same.

“i don’t know,you just been on my mind for a while now.”He shrugs.His eyes filled with honesty.You watched him as he looked down at his fingers from your gaze.

“I-I’ve been thinking about you too”you say eyes still on ony as he looks at you.You both shared eye contact for only a few seconds but boy did it feel like eternity. “Ony….I wanna be your girl.”You boldly say shocking yourself and Ony.The determination in your tone surprised you this was the first time you said it out loud and it was to him.”

“we can make that happen.”he smirks before leaning into kiss you.You weren’t sure what to do so you just moved your lips the way ony did before he stuck his tongue in your mouth.You lightly sucked his tongue as he tapped your thigh first you to raise up and sit on his lap.His hands roamed freely all over you causing you to moan.

You begin to grind slowly on his lap,you felt him become hard as you wrapped your small hand around his neck as best you could.The kiss was nasty,you could hear both yours and his mouth moving in sync making slippery popping noises.

Ony pulled away as you both caught your breaths chest rising up and down.

“are you sure want this mama?we can always wait.”He says hush voice at a lower octave turning you full on.You were beyond soaked and couldn’t wait for him to check and see.

“yes ony i want you right now.”you say in his ear,you felt bold and confident you shocked yourself.Ony smiles showing his grill’s before locking the doors turning on some music.

“go to the back baby.”he sats as neva end by future featuring kelly rowland lowly plays in the back

#Spotify #ony x black reader #black women #future #kelly rowland #sexy tease #virgin loser #shygirl

[hall0wedwyrm]

I need comfort after Prime's conclusion

I wrote this kind of quickly last night, but im actually pretty proud of it and i like it lol. Anyway um no spoilers for Prime, i just wanted to write something nice. It's not very long but i had fun writing it :P Enjoy!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another battle against the doctor was concluded. A minimal amount of destruction was achieved once again.

This one was rather tough though. When it was about the Chaos Emeralds, Eggman pulled out his toughest bots and gave it all he had. It was unfortunate that he was up against Sonic, who would also give the battle everything he’d got too. Which happened to make him a tough opponent.

Shadow would always be impressed… he’d obviously never admit that though.

He and Sonic agreed to meet up at their usual post-battle spot, under a secluded tree on a cliff where Shadow used to hang out on his own until he ‘accidently’ invited Sonic along with him. They’d grown a lot closer since doing this, and even if they didn’t talk about anything, it was nice to just enjoy each others company.

Looking over the horizon in thought, Shadow had reflected on his growing appreciation for the blue hedgehog. He found himself doing that a lot more recently, even when he wasn’t completely intending to. He wasn’t quite sure what that meant… but whatever. He knew he cared about Sonic in some way though… Rouge had helped him figure that out.

“Hey!! Faker, is that you?” a voice called. It was Sonic, walking casually towards Shadow.

“Took you long enough.” Shadow responded, in the best joking manner he could muster.

As he approached though, Shadow immediately began to notice a few… differences.

First, the incredibly noticeable gash on his forehead. It was just above his right eye, and had looked like it just about stopped bleeding. He also had a few scuffs on his legs, but nothing as bad as the gash.

“How’s it goin’?” He asked, still keeping his cheery demeanor, despite the slight tiredness in his eyes.

“What…” Shadow hesitated, “What happened to you…?” He whispered. Sonic was stood right in front of him now, and the big gash looked even bigger now.

“Oh…” Sonic looked confused for a second before catching Shadow’s eyeline as he stared up at his forehead wound.

“This thing?” He pointed up to the gash, “It was crazy! Eggman had a huuuge robot and it was throwing a bunch of stuff at us but me and Knux managed to beat it up though and it’s totally not coming back.” He put his hands on his hips triumphantly.

“But… are you alright?” Shadow raised his hand a little, up towards Sonic, who looked a little taken aback by the concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine…? What makes you so worried about it?”

Without really thinking about it, Shadow grabbed him swiftly, pulling him into a close embrace. He held onto Sonic tightly, like if he was to let go, he would be gone forever.

Sonic was completely caught off guard, even making a little gasp noise when Shadow latched onto him. He didn’t really know how to react. He wasn’t much of a hugger, but in this moment it felt… nice.

Before Sonic could even question Shadow on the frankly bizarre gesture, Shadow began to speak first.

“You’re really important… you know that?” He muttered. Sonic was taken aback.

“I… I mean yeah I know,” Sonic says, awkwardly putting his hands on Shadow’s back as his response, “It’s kinda like an extra thing that comes with being a hero.” He lets out a little laugh with his comment.

“You…” Shadow takes a second, giving the hedgehog in his arms a firm squeeze, “You matter to me.”

Some kind of, what he can describe as, honor rushes over Sonic. It was something he’d hear a lot from his friends; Amy said it a lot and Tails did too. Even Knuckles had said it before.

But coming from Shadow? It was definitely significant to him.

Finally, Sonic wrapped his arms around Shadow too, giving him a squeeze back.

“You matter to me too.” He muttered back.

After a few more minutes of holding onto eachother, Shadow finally let Sonic go, but place his hands on his shoulders. There was a tender smile on Shadow’s face. Something that was quite the rare sight, but it was a good one.

“Can I please do something about that on your head now?” Shadow sighed.

Sonic raised an eyebrow, “You can do something about it?”

“I was made to heal, Sonic. Of course I can.”

Shadow pulled Sonic to sit by him under their tree. He pulled out the green chaos emerald from his quills, and held onto it tightly in his hand. It began to glow softly, as Shadow channeled its energy. He then raised his hand up towards the gash on his head. Shadow's hand rested over it for a second, before a slight glow emanated from it.

The slight cold sensation was weird and caused Sonic to react by squeezing his eyes shut, but there was an eventual heat coming from the energy coursing into his head. Sonic was rather amazed. He opened his eyes to peak at Shadow, who remained completely focused on channeling the energy of the emerald.

After a few more seconds, the heat passed and only Shadow's hand remained. He eventually moved his hand away though, as if he was making sure the chaos energy was done flowing.

“There you go.” He kept his voice low, preserving the peace, “It's as if nothing happened…”

Sonic placed his fingertips on the spot where the wound had been, as if he was making sure it was gone.

“Dang…” Sonic muttered, “Why don't you do that more often?” He joked.

“Well I haven't really needed to.” He admitted, putting away the emerald, “I already heal faster, and you've always just got back up again.” Sonic smirked at the remark.

Shadow could immediately see the cogs turning in the others head as he turned to look out at the view. He knew exactly what he was thinking.

“If you're thinking about getting into trouble just so I'll heal you, don't even try.” Shadow folded his arms, giving a smug smile to Sonic. He saw his eyes widen in shock.

“Oh c’mon… I'd never try that.” Sonic replied, with a big grin across his face. Shadow merely rolled his eyes in response, earning a laugh from Sonic.

#oh this was actually so fun to write #I'm totally gonna do more stuff like this #man i love writing actually i forgot how much i did #i also might jsut do writing for myself??? idk #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #sonic prime #sonadow #i think my next piece will be.... knuxadow? #in a similar vein to this

[gothhabiba]

I make video essays (not frequently but I'm trying to get back into it) and I have wondered about blind accessibility before but I haven't really found much information that isn't VERY general. Do you have any resources or tips? Because frankly, the reason I make video essays and not say podcasts or just blog posts about these topics is because it is both an audio and visual medium. I can show graphs for things, play clips of movies or songs, etc. and I use captions but when I search for how to make it accessible for the blind all the information I find isn't that applicable to content that's as, dynamic I guess. Like the most common things I see are "identify who's speaking" or "read out text" (which I generally do) but what about clips from other media, graphs, things like that? Especially if im talking about a visual topic like set design or something.

n.b. I'm not blind or low-vision & I'm just brainstorming here.

image descriptions & accessibility aren't quite one-size-fits-all, because thoroughness always comes at the expense of time. you have to ask yourself what information you're trying to communicate with an image or clip. if the entire video is an analysis of a visual artwork, for example, you'd want to describe the image in enough detail that people could not only understand your analysis, but also come to their own analytical conclusions. if, on the other hand, you're just pasting in a line graph to compare two of the numbers in it as a smaller part of a larger point, it's not necessary or worth it to state every value of every variable at every point in time on the graph... just give an idea of the trend you're referring to.

some thoughts:

Any image description is better than no description. Briefly describe something rather than allow the thought of describing it thoroughly to overwhelm you such that you end up doing nothing.

Relatedly: don't think of things in terms of "is the exact same amount and type of information available to sighted and blind people watching this," but rather, "without the visual component, does this basically make sense / can I basically follow the main point?"

What this means is that at no point should there be information that is solely visual in nature, like my example of several seconds of silence where you can only assume that there's probably text on the screen but have no idea what that text says and whether it's a clarification, disclaimer, or even a retraction. It would be best to read this text out, but I've also seen a "text on screen" section in the description box of a video that gives the text in full and the time stamps at which the text appears.

Briefly state what it is about a clip or graph you're inserting that makes it useful for your point. Rather than "and you can see the results of that decision here *a few frames of a graph*," say "and you can see the results of that decision in the sharp downward turn in profits starting in 2009 *a few frames of the graph*." If it's available, link the source of a graph or chart in the description box—it may have alt text or be screenreader accessible at the source website.

Inserting a brief image description into the script after introducing e.g. a photo of a set should be feasible enough, but I also think it's possible to fold the image description into the analysis. This just means making sure that there's never a visual component with no audio equivalent—rather than saying "the stuff that's going on back here *circle part of the screen* has a haunting effect," say "the fact that the furniture in the background is jumbled, worn down, and uncomfortable-looking has a haunting effect." I think explicitly pointing out what about a scene you're responding to is just part of good analysis anyway!

Introduce a clip with a rundown of who's speaking in it and what's going on ("you can see [main point] in this clip, in which Elizabeth confronts Darcy about his meddling in Bingley's affairs"). Play the clip, and then describe anything else about it that's relevant to your analysis ("the fact that she's sitting while he paces back and forth indexes the relationship between gender and space in the film" or whatever). Again, this is just good analysis.

If there's something really central that would take a long time to describe, you could use the description box to image describe it (the same way you would write any other image description) and give a timestamp, and say something like "image description in the box below" when you reach that part of the video.

Sometimes at poetry readings, conferences &c. I've seen people give a description of their appearance, what they're wearing &c. before they begin speaking. I'm not sure how necessary this is—probably some blind people find it interesting and others think it's a waste of time, lmao

#Anonymous #questions #accessibility

[katsumiiii]

katsuki loved like rolling fields and orange hues. like sweaty palms and fleeting fingertips. he spoke in soft mutters, lips pursed in continuous pouts and puckers. his voice often rumbled from the depts of his abdomen, deep and bumpy. his love wasn’t complicated, though to others it might’ve come off as such.

“he seems so rough with you.” your dorm mate spoke, rather harshly in your opinion. she shrugged her shoulders as if to show how the comment was in reality lighthearted, but you didn’t take comments about him in jest.

“you must not have well enough eyesight then.” you responded, shuffling in your seat and pointing your eyes to the ceiling. you attempted to distract your building irritation with the wafting smell of the pastries placed in front of you, which lay delicately upon white ceramic. the bakery you were dining at had a multitude of light puffy desserts and flavors ranging from chocolate to strawberry to vanilla. though your appetite plummeted the moment katsuki’s name was uttered, the once rich buttery pastry turning sour on your tongue.

“no need to get hostile. im just speaking what others are thinking.”

“maybe you should think for yourself and stop listening to those around you.” there was an obvious shift in the air once your lips fell in tandem, closing in an unwelcoming snarl.

“whatever, maybe you should—“ a honk interrupted your momentary debate, your head turning abruptly to locate the sound. cherry red is what catches your eye, the color blearing under the light of the sun. blonde is next, a muted ash blonde dancing against pale skin and ruby irises. joy swayed amongst you, goosebumps rising along your skin.

“great conversation! but my ride is here.” you swiftly push out of your chair, gathering your purse and rushing towards the door.

“but you didn’t even finish your pastry…” your company trails off, watching as you excitedly jog to your lovers vehicle, slamming the car door once you’re inside.

“hey baby.” katsuki grumbles, palm clutching his stick shift, placing it in the correct gear.

“how’d y’know i needed you to pick me up?”

“jus’ felt it.” his eyes shift slightly to gaze at your appearance, red confronting brown. “why ya lookin’ at me like that?” he murmurs, taking notice of your shimmering irises which were planted on his own.

“i just ‘preciate you so much suki.” you reach forward to place a single kiss upon his cheek bone, watching curiously as a soft red brushes against his skin.

“yer always so damn sappy.” he bristles, huffing softly as you wiggle cutely in passenger seat.

“you know you love it!”

a stark smirk appears on his face, gums breaking past his slightly chapped lips, “sure baby, whatever you say.”

to others he may seem jarring or hoarse, but to you katsuki loved like the wind, relaxed and unpredictable. to you he loved like warm breakfast and steaming dinners, tasty and filling. to you, katsuki loved the only way he knew how, passionate and complete. and frankly, you wouldn’t change a thing about it.

#katsuki bakugo drabble #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #poc reader #poc friendly #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bnha katsuki x reader

[wormdebut]

Drunk Words—Sober Thoughts

Written for @steddiemicrofic BONUS ROUND. Using @wynnyfryd unhinged prompts from her and her weirdo friends. (It’s me and @messessentialist we are the weirdo friends.) Rated T for alcohol use | Word Count 555 | CW: drinking and ANGST apparently. | Prompt “You’re pretty.” “Huh?” “I said you’re pretty! Im hitting on you.”

Disclaimer: this is NOT how the actual conversation went down 😂

——

Eddie’s not sure why he agreed to come out in the first place. There are so many people in that damn bar and he loves Robin. He’s glad it’s her birthday, of course he is, but there’s people in there, socializing and Eddie quite frankly prefers sitting in their apartment with Robin and Steve and—

Steve. That’s why he’s fucking out with them and all of Robins friends. For stupid Steve Harrington and he pretty hair and his perfect lips and—

“Eds!” Eddies head snaps to the right, following the call. There he is, turning around the corner, with a wide smile on his face. Steve in all his red cheeked, beer drunk glory.

“Hey Stevie.” Eddie calls.

Steve makes his way up to him. Goofy (cute) smile splayed across his features, “What are you doing out here?”

Eddie takes in another puff of his cigarette and blows the smoke upward, away from Steve’s pretty face. He shakes the cigarette and Steve laughs.

“Ah—got it. Dumb question.” Steve replies, red blush crossing his features.

Eddie tuts, “No dumb questions, baby.” Baby? He’s only had two beers. He’s not near drunk enough to shake that one off. He clears his throat. “I’m people watching. As much as I love Rob, sometimes I just need to—be alone. Take some time to breathe, y’know?”

Steve blinks up at him through those ridiculously long lashes. His cheeks are still red with blush and it’s really doing something for Eddie.

“No, I get it. I was out here just trying to call Tommy—he wanted me to keep him updated and he’s not even answering his stupid phone.” Steve grumbles and Eddie tries, he really tries, not to roll his eyes.

“I’m sure Tommy’s fine, Stevie.” Eddie responds and Steve shakes himself out of whatever pitying moments he had found himself in briefly.

“I’m just gonna try one more time.” Steve smiles and Eddie can’t help but smile back at the man. Even when the smiles aren’t real, anything Steve does is contagious.

Eddie watches as Steve walks back down the sidewalk. “If Tommy won’t call you, I will.” Eddie mutters under his breath. Steve didn’t hear him, he had walked too far away.

It would probably be best if Eddie went back inside. He’d been out here far too long, but he hadn’t seen Steve come back yet. Even though he was trying to call his stupid on again/off again poor excuse for a boyfriend—

“You’re pretty.”

Eddie snapped out of his thoughts seeing Steve on his other side. How had even gotten there?

“Huh?” Eddie asked, that was—

Steve slapped at Eddie’s shoulder, laughing. “C’mon Eds! I said you’re pretty! I’m hitting on you.”

Eddie choked out a laugh. Steves words came out slurred. They weren’t real. He didn’t mean it. He never would.

“Sure, Stevie—did Tommy finally answer?”

Steve looked up at him again. Stupid pretty, glossed over hazel eyes, big and gorgeous as always. “Oh no. It’s fine. I’d rather be with Rob and you anyway.”

Eddie swallowed, trying not to say something fucking stupid. “Why don’t we go back inside and get you some water yeah?” He threw his arm around Steve’s shoulder to keep him steady. This was the closest to Steve Eddie would probably ever get and he had to be okay with that.

#steddie #steddiemicrofic #I am…sorry? #this was not the direction I thought this would go #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie drabble #worm brain #steddie angst #my absolute bad

[bloodybreakupscene]

𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐄.

tom holland! peter parker x reader

-> so uh basically flash makes fun of peter and is like "embarassinggg 😳!!" so he runs out the cafeteria like a disney channel character but u comfort him l8r so it's okay

-> wrote this while i was in sugarland texas!! it was so much fun :3 n e ways im so hungry (　；∀；) and i want a fruit smoothie

"peter look! there they are!" ned pointed, hinting peter towards your presence at the table across from theirs.

"shh! keep your voice down, what if they hear you?" peter said, shoving ned's arm down.

"they probably heard you already." mj rolled her eyes.

"no way, we're pretty far. . . right?" he asks, half rhetorical and half serious. mj ignores it and ned laughs. "don't worry pete! I'm sure they love you already, you just don't know it_!"

peter lays his head down on his arm and absentmindedly stares at you, you were talking with your friends sitting at a semi occupied table, hand swirling around a straw that was inside your chocolate milk carton. there was only one person he recognized sitting next to you and it was flash.

"penis parker! something you wanna say to us or what?"

speaking of flash, peter's lovestruck face falters and is replaced with a confused one. he noticed that each and every one of the people in your small friend group were staring at him, including you. his face immediately flushes as you both make eye contact.

"is he gonna say anything?" one of your friends mentions to you.

"how about you leave us alone, flash, he's not hurting you." mj defends, frankly tired of flash's behavior over the years.

"exactly, it's not even you he's staring at!" ned attempts to defend. peter and mj really don't know how to respond to that other than a shocked and 'oh my god i can't believe you just said that what the hell ned' look.

the table collectively goes 'oooo' [ aside from you ] in a childlike manner, which embarrasses him even further. he wanted nothing more than to crawl underground and become one with the moles and dirt.

flash whistles, "damn then, who were you staring at." he eyes you, in which you glare at him, a silent message for him to not say what he's about to say.

"i think i know who it is, but you gotta help me out here man, who's got your—"

"flash shut up." you say, in a light tone, but stern enough for him to know that you were actually kind of serious.

"that confirmed it." he jokes, no one really paying attention to him anymore.

you shoot peter an apologetic look and he stares back at you, an unanalyzable expression painting his face. your group continues to discuss miscellaneous topics as his exponentially smaller trio try to comfort him. you save him the embarrassment by not sparing him any glances.

"it wasn't that bad of an interaction! at least they defended you."

"ned! it was your fault this happened in the first place!"

"nuh uh."

"it's okay guys, not that big of a deal." peter brushed off, "gonna do the restroom really quick, yeah." they look at him unconvinced but inevitably let him go. he sits outside the restroom near a water fountain.

embarrassing, is all he found that interaction to be. he just needed to be alone for a bit. what pissed him off was that it was a joke, he wasn't supposed to take it this seriously. it was worse that he walked out of the cafeteria feeling and looking stupid, at least in his mind.

"hi."

he looks up; oh shit it's you.

"oh, uh, hey."

"sorry about. .you know. .flash."

"it's fine, nothing i'm not used to!" he laughs slightly, ignoring the fact that he is most definitely not used to flash's bullying just yet.

"well uh, whatcha' listening to?" you sit next to him on the floor.

"oh just, generic stuff, i guess, here." he hands you one of his earbuds, blush apparent on his face. you smile as you put in your ear as you guys share your different tastes in music, eventually spending your whole lunch period together.

#fanfic #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel x y/n #marvel

[sushiwriterhere]

flight path (teaser)

summary: "Flight path: the actual or planned course of an aircraft."  pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x f!reader [enemies to lovers!] notes: this series idea came to me in a fever dream and im very excited for it thank you a million times over to @waklman and @sebsxphia for encouraging me <3 tagging: @roosterbruiser @gretagerwigsmuse @joaquinwhorres @sometimesanalice @seresinsweetie @bobfloyds @theharddeck tagging people who i think might enjoy pls let me know if you'd like to be added/removed

But in that moment, you met your nemesis. Really, it felt childish to say it like that, but Jake Seresin seemed to derive a special sense of pleasure from tormenting you. 

He’d introduced himself on that bright August morning with a winning smile, an extended hand, and a gentle Texan twang, “Jake Seresin. Nice to meet ‘ya.”

You shook his hand firmly, remembering the importance of men taking you seriously, and responded with your name. 

His response made clear exactly what his personality was, “Think you’ll survive the weed out? I’ve heard this professor’s a real hard ass, and I’m planning to be top of our class.”

“He’s perfectly reasonable in the lab; and I’m sure he will be here too.” You had sniffed, not exactly trying to sound haughty but not trying to be subtle about the fact that you’d already gotten a head start on the resume work already.

The smile that spread across his lips was poisonous, as if he’d figured you out just in that instance, “I see my competition has my work cut out for me.”

And with that, he turned back to his friends, ignoring the way your face seemed to warm a thousand degrees. You weren’t his competition, you were sure you were leagues ahead of him. The stereotypes about hot-headed, ignorant, frat boys traveled, and you weren’t a fool.

That light tension in your initial interaction had, frankly, spiraled into something drastically out of proportion and lightly legendary. Every class you had with him, you fought for who was going to set the curve, whose in-class answers were better. And at some point, the details of the first interaction faded and were replaced simply by how he had made you feel: like a bug under a microscope, but also like he was pulling your pigtails and taunting you.

So that was the beginning of a long saga in which you now find yourself facing the cruel reality of an entire semester where your grade depends on the very person whose entire life mission seems to be to take you down a peg. Which, frankly, you consider to be ironic because if there is anyone with an ego the size of the planet, that is Jake.

#top gun: maverick #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman x you #no use of y/n #flight path universe

[citygirlyuno305]

Responding to the major arguments I’ve seen about Amane being guilty

TW for a lot of reasons

1. If you’re guiltying for her threats to shidou

Overly myopic and frankly lame view. Even if I assume she is actually going to follow through on this Kazui is available to stop her and help Shidou, and the threat of Shidou needing to tend to other injuries is countered by guiltying Kotoko and Mikoto. No new injuries means he will be less likely to be caught off guard.

Plus the plot shock of having a prisoner injure others has lost appeal, and Shidou’s popularity means that she is very unlikely to kill him off. Sorry, but thats the way it goes.

Also, the overly Machiavellian approach to guiltying her on this basis is illogical and, honestly, borderline stupid. Do the ends of protecting Shidou based on a broken victim’s threats really justify the means of breaking her even more? Especially when we have no idea if she will actually follow through, and when we consider the implications (see below) of voting her guilty twice in a row?

They don’t. This isn’t a question of whether you forgive her current mindset. It’s whether you forgive her for her previously committed crimes. And it seems MOST of you do. Conflating her current mindset towards Shidou with the justifications for her actual murder is clouding her analysis and we know the result is far from good.

2. if its because you want to discourage her mindset

That didn’t work last time and I have NO idea why you’d think it would this time. At this point a double guilty would reaffirm her belief that the only people who have ever forgiven her is the cult.

Plus, it would likely just make her more violent. So we see in her MV that her murder was precipitated by what she saw as hypocrisy with her victim’s compliance with the cult covenants- they abuse amane for interfering with fate by helping the cat, but then they themselves tamper with fate by killing the cat, which leads amane to say “well shit if youre gonna break your vow im gonna punish you exactly the same.” And she’s pointed out our own hypocrisy before with respect to voting. So to vote her guilty would, in all likelihood, make her more violent against us and everyone else. She will literally be confined and restrained, only accompanied by her own thoughts, our voices of disapproval, and her current mindset.

And, in the broad scheme, it’s mentioned that a t2 guilty will bring higher levels of restraints for guilty prisoners. Her MV already shows that she was heavily abused and that was a large part of her mentality when she chose to kill. If you think of amane as a real person instead of a character, it would make no sense to subject someone to further restraints if we are trying to break her of the mindset that she has. We would literally be treating her the same way her cult treated her, subjecting her to overly cruel and not AT ALL helpful punishment and physical restraint, and allowing other prisoners who do the same thing and present the same dangers (Fuuta and Kazui beef, Kotoko/Mikoto potentially) to walk around like nothing.

3. if its because you want to disavow the cult

I mean, see above under explanation 2. It doesn’t work that way. We have a baseline understanding of what a guilty vote does to her: it pushes her further in the cult. It is beyond me how anyone believes a double guilty could at all help her. We don’t know what an innocent vote would do, but we sure as shit know what a guilty vote does.

Plus being that she will be restrained and alone with her own thoughts, it’s fairly unlikely that she will have some miraculous change of heart with respect to her beliefs if we guilty her.

Those are the major arguments I’ve seen. Feel free to comment any other points influencing your decision.

#the milgram project #amane momose milgram #amane momose #amane milgram #amane purge march #purge march

[morbiderotica]

Hello, I love your writing! Sorry if my request is kinda weird. Could your write about how the reader used to be close with Mello and Matt when they were at Wammy's. When they got older the reader seemed to have completely disappear, untill they randomly run into Mello and Matt on the street. How would they react?

─ ★ run in ... gn!reader

you were out of breath. running from the mafia because of a dumb mistake your friend made. he was probably dead by now and your legs were close to giving out. you didn't know how to get out of this mess, you knew you were dead if you looked back or stopped even for just a second. your life was flashing before your eyes. every memory or decision you'd ever made, good and bad.

you turned a corner and were met with a wall "no, no, no!" you desperately tried to find a way to escape this dead end. "don't move." some man with a gun threatened and you reluctantly followed his orders, lifting your hands above your head when he told you to. "boss is going to have fun with you." he evilly grinned and you swallowed a lump in your throat.

─ ★

you were thrown into a cold and dark room. it looked like some kind of basement. you didn't know what was going to happen next. and when you heard the door open and footsteps coming toward you, you felt like you were about to have a heart attack. "Y/N?" your head shot up when you heard the familiar voice call your name.

you were in too much shock to respond and he was quick to notice. he bent down to see your face better, and after confirming it really was you he sat in front of you, on his knees, making sure no one hurt you, well, too badly at least. "matt?" you finally croaked. "hey." he smiled and it comforted you. "whatcha doing down here?" he asked, hoping he didn't have to kill you.

you didn't know how to explain the situation, and quite frankly you were embarrassed. "my friend- he- i-" you paused and took a deep breath and matt rested his hand on your shoulder. "my friend did a drug run for, what im assuming, was one of your guys but he pocketed the money or something, i don't know. he kept it vague." you hoped matt believed you. "dumbass." he muttered under his breath before getting up and walking out of the room.

you began to panic. was he calling you a dumbass? did he not believe you? was he going to kill you? all the memories that you and matt shared, he was just going to kill you after all of it? you guys had spent your adolescent years together at wammy's and now he was just disregarding you? you were angry, but no more than you were scared.

"what is it matt? why can't you just fucking tell me?" you heard the distinctive voice that belonged to mello as the door opened again. "oh." mello stopped in his tracks when he saw you, his every question suddenly answered. "hi." you smiled awkwardly, hoping that if matt wouldn't save you, maybe mello would. "now, what were you and your friend doing messing with the mafia?" he scolded and you just shrugged.

"you're paying us back." mello stated and matt looked a little shocked. "and be grateful we aren't killing you." he sounded harsh but you couldn't miss his eyes scanning you for any signs of pain or blood and the hint of some weird tone in his voice that he didn't have before he saw you sitting there.

"how am i going to pay you back?" you questioned when matt started to undo the ropes that held your wrists and feet together. "wouldn't you like to find out?" he cockily responded before he began to walk out of the room. "uh yes that's why i asked!" you yelled after him and matt laughed. "he's always like this, you should get used to it." he smiled and helped you to your feet, hugging you promptly before leading you to mello.

i reread the request after i wrote this and it sounds like you might want headcanons so lmk if that's what you meant so i can properly do your request!

#─ ♡ death note #death note #death note x reader #matt death note #mello death note #matt x reader #mello x reader #mail jeevas #mihael keehl #mail jeevas x reader #mihael kheel x reader

[coldresolve]

im with the anti-purity brigade on principle but honestly, despite feeling like i get around pretty broadly on tumblr, i just dont see a lot of genuine puritans out there. i can't for the life of me recall seeing a single post that said anything to the effect of "you can't write x under any circumstances" - and sure, no doubt people like that do exist... but are they that prevalent and influential? really? do we really need a new "its okay to write x" post every other day? what hoardes are we fighting here?

i bring this up because, as my followers know, i've made some media-critical posts about torture apologia over the past week, and the people who have been on my ass about it have widely implied i'm being a puritan. me, a guy who is currently 110k words deep in a book about red room torture, being met with countless responses of "depiction isn't endorsement"/"fiction isn't reality" - as if i don't know that already

it makes me feel like a substantial number of the anti-purity "its okay to write x" posters might not be responding to puritans, but instead to the media-critical posts that circulate basically going "these specific ideas/stereotypes/myths around x fuel real-world harm in these specific ways, so if you write about x, you should be mindful of how you portray it", which, to be perfectly clear, are not puritanical, they are critical. puritanism targets broad topics and calls them off-limits no matter what - media-critical folks like yours truly want you to think about how you portray these topics. they are asking you to beware of your own bias. to conflate the two would be disingenouous as hell, frankly

idk, the lack of seeing actual puritans just makes me doubt where those "its okay to write x" posts are coming from. if they're coming from genuine anti-puritanism, or if they're appealing to this anti-critical fantasy land where literary themes and author bias no longer exist, where criticism can be sufficiently hand-waved away with an "it's just fiction"

i guess my point is that i don't trust anybody with anything lol

#other #idk #maybe i just havent seen those giant hoards of puritans that definitely do exist out there #it just feels. kinda off to me ngl lol #me browsing the writblr tag not trusting a single bitch on there