#first real assignment of the semester and i'm right back to pushing myself into the fight or flight zone to get ANYTHING done at all

[halfstayed]

"pray" by ashley loren on loop tonight

[generallybarzy]

☆star☆

an: ahhh! my semester ends in 3 days so i should be doing missing assignments but instead i’m writing a fic about the isles won tonight!!!! Almosy 2k in 2hours I'm proud of myself!!! But mostly proud of the isles let’s go my babies i’m so proud!!!!!!!! Here's a fic about rewarding barzy with some soft sweet lovin after his game!!

tagging: @selenophileangel @deleausvp @dunnwithlyfe @smit41 @softboybarzal @fallinallincurls @matbaerzal @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows @hockeyhughes11 @folkloreflyers @nazdaddy @shawnsreputation @comphybiscuit @aboveaveragehockeyboys @canadianheaters @ifiwasshawnmendesidslapmyself @baby-cat-nol-pat

word count: 1.9k

warning: smut 

Mat missed this.

No matter how many times he stepped on the ice over the off season to stay in shape, or how many hockey games he played just for fun with his buddies in B.C., nothing could compare to the adrenaline of the real game. And certain games especially- such as playoff games and opening night. Opening night always set a precedent for the rest of the season; a good opening night was a great way to predict the season, and a great opening night… well, that was a great sign. Mat had missed this so much.

But, more than he missed the game, there was something he missed much, much more. Something almost better than the thrill of the game itself- coming home. Getting to come home after a win and seeing you. His girl. 

For a long time, Mat dreaded coming home alone after games. He’d stay out with his buddies as long as he could to revel in the excitement of the win and to feel the glory, maybe find some girls that would spend the night talking about how amazing he is, how much of a star he is, before he brought them to his apartment for the night and had them leaving before he even woke, early in the morning. But now, he didn’t have to do that anymore. No, he loved to come home. Because you were there. If you weren’t at the game with him, you were always there, waiting and ready to jump in his arms and congratulate him the second he stepped in the door.

The second the elevator opened on his floor of the building, he could see you standing in the doorway to his apartment, donned in his jersey and a pair of sweats, eyes locked on your phone. Your eyes shot up at the ding of the elevator that marked Mat’s arrival, and immediately, a smile brightened your face. Oh, how Mat loved the way he could always make you smile. 

“Baby!”

“Baby!” he mimicked with a smile as bright as yours, holding out his arms for you as you bounced over to him, giddy and excited.

“Baby!!!” With one last laugh, you tossed yourself onto him, and Mat caught you with ease, familiar with this post-game routine. His arms tightened around your back and tugged you close, and your legs wrapped around his waist. “You were amazing! My star!! My baby!!” His beautiful little giggles escaped his lips as you peppered kisses all over his cheeks, and soon he was setting you down. 

“Let’s get inside.” 

You grabbed his hand and nearly dashed inside, leaving Mat to chuckle and follow quickly, closing the door behind himself and dropping his backpack at the door before being pulled back down into you. Your arms came up to wrap around his shoulder, holding him tight and curling your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. You stayed like that for a moment, tangled up in each other in the entrance to his apartment, his hands on your waist and his nose in your hair, just enjoying each other’s presence, the comfort of your bodies touching in such a wholesome way, before you tugged his face down by his hair and lay your lips on him in congratulations.

“You’re so amazing, Maty. You did amazing tonight. It was crazy to watch.” You continued to pepper kisses across his face, his cheeks, the little cut he’d gotten during training, his cute chin, his nose, there wasn’t a part of him you didn't love. “You’re such a star baby, God. First it was your new contract and now tonight’s opener? God, I’m so proud of you. Couldn’t be more proud. I love you so much.”

He pulled back, a smile in his eyes when he saw the honesty in yours. His heart throbbed at the thought of making you proud. “I love you. Thank you for watching.”

“I always watch.” 

“Yeah? You’re my good luck charm.” 

“Yeah?” 

He gripped your waist tighter, sliding his big hands up the back of the jersey you were wearing, over his number, over his name- the name you wore so proudly. “Yeah.” 

“And you’re my star. My gleaming, beautiful star.” 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Now, let’s get you out of this suit, okay? Then I can really reward you for how amazing you are.” 

“Yes, please.” 

This was something else Mat missed about the season, the way your hands- so small and gentle compared to his own, compared to how he’d been playing all night- traveled across his body as you undressed him, stripped him down to his boxers and laid him out on the bed. He loved the way you kissed down his chest and thighs and told him to lay back and get comfy- you were loving him like he deserved. He loved it so much, the intimacy, the praise, the sweet talk. You had still done this for him over the off season, of course you had, but there was just something about getting back from a game and getting his reward that he had just missed so much. 

God, he’d missed his post-win blow.

He let his eyes slip shut and his head fall back against the pillow as you kissed his legs and tugged the last piece of fabric down this thighs. “I love your legs, Maty. So strong, they make you so fast, so good at what you do… and they’re hot as fuck.” You kissed all the way up his high and over his hip bones. “You’re hips, God, you can set a rhythm, if you know what I mean.” 

He laughed. “You can’t say ‘if you know what i mean’ if you’re literally about to blow me.” 

“Why not?” Mat just smiled again as you kissed up his stomach and chest, mumbling praises as you went. You curled your fingers through his and brought his hand up to your lips, and he opened his eyes slowly to watch you lay a kiss on each knuckle, gentle and soft. “I love your hands, the way you’re so skilled with them, during games you have all these amazing stick maneuvers, like that goal tonight. I know that was all for me. And you’re so skilled at touching me. It’s amazing.” 

“Mmm.” Mat was almost drowsy, the way you touched him and kissed him pulling him into a trance. “I’ll show you some of those skills later.” 

“The ones you use on the stick or on me?”

He laughed again. “Both.”

“After this, baby. I wanna reward you first. My star. My baby, my talented, sweet boy.” You planted one last kiss on his lips before scooting back down to his hips where his desire was aching for you. Your bottom lip tugged between your teeth like it did whenever you saw him, and Mat swore he could’ve come at just the sight. Your fingers rubbed slow circles against his naked hips as you pressed kisses up his length and finally- Mat thought- finally took him into your mouth. A soft moan fell from Mat’s lips, a breath of pleasure, a sigh of relief at the feeling of your lips around him- he would never get over it. You took your time, drawing out his pleasure as much as you could, but never holding anything back from him. This was his night, after all. He deserved this. 

The build up was slow, slow and soft and gentle as ever, starting low in his tummy and growing stronger and stronger by the second. It wasn’t the normal orgasm he’d have when he was on top, where he’d have to work for it, but one that built up and up and up that he got the pleasure of getting to lay back and experience it’s entirety- making it feel even more drawn out. Usually he’d be too busy to notice it until he was practically coming already, but now he could savor it, all the way from the little spark inside him to the rumbling fire that erupted. 

“Baby.” His hand came down to stroke your face.

“Maty,” You pulled back to praise him, laying wet kisses along his length. “I love you. You’re so amazing, so talented. You’re so talented, beautiful, sweet.”

“Baby!”  

“Let go, my sweet boy. Don’t hold back, you deserve it. You deserve it all, the awards, the contract, the 21 million, the star of the game, the attention. God, you deserve it all. And most of all, you deserve to come. Can you do that for me, pretty boy?” 

“Shit. I love you!” His mouth fell open in a string of praises, and his head dropped back again as your lips wrapped around him one last time before he erupted, thighs trembling and hands gripping yours like a life line. The groans that left his lips were some you’d never forget, how needy and desperate they were, how thankful he was to get his relief. He was breathing deeply in the aftermath of his orgasm, listening to your soft praise as you wiped your slick hand on his abdomen, vowing to drag him to the shower later to clean up. 

“C’mere, please.” He urged you to crawl up his body, pushing your hair behind your ear and pulling your down to cuddle against him, holding your body close and letting you feel him clam back to softness- both mentally and physically. He rolled to his side, keeping you tucked against his naked body and laying kisses across your face, just wanting to savor this moment for a few minutes longer. He was always so cuddling after coming, and you always found it so cute. Soon, his whisper broke the warm silence. “Did you mean what you said?”

“About?”

“Me. What I deserve.” 

“Baby.” You lifted a hand to stroke through his hair, knowing exactly what he needed. “You’re so good at what you do, I’m not kidding. And this new contract, it’s amazing for you. Tonight just showed everyone who doubted you just how great you are. How you’re worth it. And I swear, years from now, you’ll be playing with some new kids on the Islanders who grew up watching you, who grew up wanting to be like you. You’re building a legacy right now.” 

A flush lit up his face at the thought and a hopeful grin broke across his lips. With sleepy-half lidded eyes, he sighed. “I love you.” 

“Hm. Not more than I love you, star.”

“Oh no, much more.” 

“Impossible.” 

He just smiled and shook his head, knowing no one was winning this argument. Both of your loves were unmatched, and he was so, so lucky that was the case. 

“You know what else is great about you, Maty? How you’re still such an amazing person. You’re a hockey star, the isles’ golden boy, you have all this money and this fame in the hockey world, but you’re so humble still. You’re modest, you’re down-to-earth. You’re a guy anyone can talk to. I love that about you. It’s not just how talented you are, but it’s you as a person. You’re really going places, one day.” 

“Yeah?” His throat tightened and his words came out harsh and cracking at the thought of that. It was the future he’d always dreamed of. And to be told of it by the girl of his dreams seemed too good to be true. “You think so?”

“Yeah.”

“I hope. And,” he cleared his throat, a little stuffy, but smiling nonetheless. “I want you there for all of them.” And you couldn’t think of any better outcome.

“I can’t wait.”

[chiserendipity]

Why 2020 has Changed Me Forever - and Why I'm Grateful for That

*Warning, this deals with emotional and physical abuse, trauma and just is really long. Please do not reblog or repost this post.*

I'm just gonna say it. 2020 as a year has been terrible on a global scale with the pandemic, and the oppression of many people across the world. However, 2020 has allowed us to both reflect personally and on the world around us and demand change. I think that makes 2020 a great year for growth and shouldn't be merely dismissed because we couldn't go to concerts, have large parties, or the hot girl summer we hoped for. Real change is happening before our eyes, a movement for equal rights and to end the the endless cycle of oppression and suffering for not only the black community, but minority groups whether that be race, ethnicity, sexuality, gender, religion, those with mental or physical disability, the poor, and so many more. Yes the world is seemingly in shambles. But guess what? We have nothing but time to try and fix it now. To demand better. Both for our communities and ourselves.

Personally, I feel 2020 really pushed pause on my life and asked me "what are doing?" "why are you doing this to yourself?" and "what do you want from life?" I began looking at what I had become and I was disgusted with myself and how I decided to try and cope with past trauma. Before corona, I found myself in a very dark place mentally with seemingly no way out. I would have panic attacks repeatedly and just cry myself to sleep many nights (despite not getting very much). My endometriosis was continually getting worse with every flare up (probably from all my stress). I had no direction and very little motivation to continue.

Then, the virus hit. Once I was sent home and online classes began, I had time to stop and catch my breath. To look around at my life and really ask what I was doing wrong. As young people we tend to give ourselves a pass for poor behavior and bad decisions, or even encourage it. I realized I was falling victim to my own anger, bitterness, anxiety, and depression that had haunted me for years and it was finally rearing its ugly head. I had been suffering from depression and anxiety for years but that spring semester while still on campus was different. My moods began to swing from a hyperactive anxious state to a haunting and chilling depression that made me want to stay in my room and hide. I didn't really get much sleep in either state. But, now back home all alone and with nowhere to go. No class to dive head first into. No parties to dance the night away. No kickbacks to chill at. Just me and my monstrous thoughts. At first my overwhelming thoughts were suffocating. I would question "what is wrong with me? Why can't I get my moods under control? Why must every facet of my being so overwhelmingly broken?" Then as classes began to finish, and with the help of antidepressants, I finally started to feel a shift. I started unpacking my compartmentalized trauma I had shoved away for years in a desperate attempt to leave it the past. People always say the past is the past, but the past will never not be apart of your journey. Without properly dealing with the past, it'll always show up again in your present reeking havoc in your day to day life.

With meditation, therapy, medication, and a lot of self reflection through videos about helping your inner child, I realized I didn't know me. My life had always in some way shape or form been controlled by others. I was assigned the role "golden child" by a narcissistic father who demanded I perform that role perfectly. Even as a child, I was taught to ignore my pain and sadness and push through, because my feelings didn't matter. I was fed, lived in a nice house and had nice clothes and whatever I asked for. That was enough to prove my father’s love for me; in his eyes. I lived merely to please. As I aged this mentality seeped into my romantic life as well. My feelings always came last so I began to simply just turn them off until I became an emotionless shell. Acting as a robot, I went to school and grinded myself to the bone in all my AP and IB classes. Joined all the community based clubs and took leadership roles. At 16 I even got started working 20+ hour weeks. Meanwhile, I had to surgeries courtesy of endometriosis. The first was a emergency surgery due to a ruptured ovarian cyst and the second to dislodge my right ovary from my abdominal wall since the endometrial lining cemented the two together. 

I remember complaining about cramps and my father punched me saying, "Toughen up”. My father said things like that all the time and didn't want to discuss my chronic illness or mental health. When I was 16 I admitted to having suicidal thoughts and a previous attempt a few years back and he responded that was "white girl bullshit". Another time,my father cussed me out in a pizza shop for wanting a margarita pizza calling me a stupid bitch in front of everyone in the restaurant. He constantly mocked my choice for my major and university, saying that majoring in marine science was idiotic and I'd do better in political science and studying at Vanderbilt. Pain wasn't allowed. Feelings wasn't allowed. Choice wasn't allowed. Only thing that was allowed was to do the work expected. To be "perfect".

Finally I was beginning to understand that after being told my entire life that I was nothing more than robot with marching orders, the lack of orders now that I had cut my father out of my life was causing me to feel that I had no purpose at all. I had never known freedom, and it was was now suffocating me. Now knowing this, I was able to start retraining by brain and discover who I wanted to be. My feelings were valid. I wasn't just my report card or my ACT score or my medals and academic awards. My body while it doesn't function like it should, it is still worthy of love and respect. I wasn't insane for my moods fluctuating and I just needed help to get where I needed mentally to function. And that's okay. I had to start being me and living for me, not for the approval of others. Savannah the person, not the robot, matters. I matter.

This was when I had a spiritual awakening of my soul and ego, truly deep diving on how to heal from my past. I spent hours watching videos and discovering how to dismantle the false self I had created to appease those around me and stop acting as a emotional crutch for others whilst ignoring my own emotions. I began to recognize the trauma bonds I formed with exes and current friends. I choose to associate with those who encouraged these negative social responses and bad coping mechanisms. I was merely re-entering patterns that begun in my childhood.

From our earliest years, the ego is formed. Our deepest need is to gain love + approval from our parents + caregivers. The ego, in an attempt to protect creates a concept of self identity in alignment with what we believe will give us this love.We begin to say "I am smart" or "I am strong" or "I am bad at x." We internalize the beliefs of our parents about who we are + who other people are + how the world is. All of this ego identity unconscious. Because we are not taught about our egos, we are unaware they exist. So we operate as if we ARE the ego. This brings us a ton of our own suffering + shame. It makes us feel "stuck" + unable to escape our learned patterns. That's what ego does: keeps us repeating the past. Ego work is the process of questioning the ego stories that are just thoughts + not "reality." Becoming conscious to this allows us to access CHOICE in how we respond.

- @the.holistic.psychologist

Now aware of my ego and really getting to the heart of why I'm bad at sharing my feelings and why in past relationships I was described as "distant" and "inattentive" but also “good listener but won’t open up”.  Today, I can honestly say I'm no longer in that dark place I was before. I'm beginning to relearn the things I loved and truly appreciate them. I'm being the true goofy, silly, marine scientist I always wanted to be. I have friends who do care about me and I've tried to open up more emotionally. Of course I have a long way to go and constant improvement is necessary. 2020 allowed me to return to myself, not the burnt out, bitter and depressed woman I had become. I'm happy 2020 happened and for the first time in years, I'm excited for what the future brings.