#grace anders

[germesthegenie]

Did some doodles of the Chicago Wards spending their time out of costume! Because they are still my favs despite not only Wildbow but the fanfic writers forsaking me on more content of them! So guess I’m filling the void myself!

Jokes aside, wanted to do some practice on character designs and a bit of background/foreground and decided to take the opportunity to do some more drawings of these guys. Designs and stuff are I think like 75% canon compliant and 25% headcanon / personal intepretation of the characters

[sky-fire-forever]

I was listening to a YouTube video of Dragon Age: Inquisition party banter and there's a bit with Cole and Varric where Cole describes Isabela cheating at cards while Anders is sulking and feeling angry and I just...

They were friends.

[crewofthecreek]

Jessica's Big Little World - Main Titles Created by Matt Burnett, Tiffany Ford & Ben Levin

Here's the high quality version of the main titles for Jessica's Big Little World. Check out the series when it premieres this fall! Art Direction by Benjamin Anders Composited by W. Scott Forbes Song by Grace Hayes

[aces-to-apples]

Crying and throwing up at the VG crew's reaction and treatment of Spite vs. the KW crew's reaction and treatment of Justice. I love their mean little asses but mean little asses they were...

[stereoversion]

Workaholics 7.02 Weed the People

[trevisos]

i think the funniest part of the isabela/allegra/fenris casual sex situation is that fenbela Do start catching feelings at some point and it evolves into a sort of unicorn situation with this couple fucking a bisexual girl but the unicorn started it. this was all allegra’s idea. she becomes a unicorn by association

[breadedsinner]

Like I really do want to lay off and be more chill, I don’t actually hate Anders, he’s fine to me. He does not resonate with me personally but I do see his value.

But it’s really hard to hear how Sebastian is the worst and everything about him should be re written, meanwhile I see posts like “it’s good that Anders is racist, actually,”.

[abs0luteb4stard]

W A T C H I N G

[mikimeiko]

Grace of My Heart | Dir. Allison Anders (1996)

[mel-rhodes-place]

MUSLIMS MURDER 12 PEOPLE, BEHEADING THEM WITH MACHETES

Beheadings in DRC are common. In Kinshasa, June 13 (IANS) there were at least 46 people were killed in an attack by militias on a camp for the displaced persons in the eastern region of Congo (https://www.sakshipost.com/news/46-killed-militia-attack-congo-198832) DRC:  Muslims murder 12 people, beheading many with hatchets and machetes “When you meet the unbelievers, strike the necks…” (Qur’an…

[explodingchantry]

biased writing is Anders being called crazy several times during dragon age 2, including by a Hawke who romanced him. Biased writing is a Hawke who romanced Anders implying in Inquisition that Anders is a monster, and that those who believe him to be a monster are only partly mistaken. Only partly. That he is complicated in the way he is monstruous. Even a Hawke who romanced Anders. Even a Hawke who supported him.

Biased writing is Cullen being written as a beautiful, charming, big dicked commander in Inquisition. Biased writing is no one - not even Varric, who was there when Cullen said mages were "not people" - commenting on his negative bias against mages, or about him siding with Meredith up until she tried to kill Hawke. He sided with Meredith when she enacted the right of annulment of her own against the Circle of Kirkwall. He was okay with killing innocents because they were mages, and only questioned her because she tried to kill the Champion of Kirkwall. No one mentions that. No one questions it. Instead, people at the Winter palace fawn over him. Instead, he gets invited to wicked grace with the Inquisitor's entourage and is given an extended scene where everyone laughs at how funny he and his stories about being a templar is. Instead, the cunt gets a fucking dog. Even when you're given an option to say "Cullen is boring", what comes out of the Inquisitor's mouth is "Cullen is too dignified".

Meanwhile Varric openly vents about Anders. Meanwhile even Hawke denounces Anders' actions as extreme even when you specifically input them as supportive of his actions in the tapestry.

It's fucking . it drives me insane brother

[cinemedios]

Teaser oficial de 'That 90's Show'

Teaser oficial de ‘That 90’s Show’

[triviareads]

What is your favourite " widower finds love again" novels?

ooh ok I have a loooot of those:

Wicked Again by Kathleen Ayers: Haddon is a widower and Marissa a widow thrice-over (#1 and #3 were most likely murdered by her dad for mistreating her, and #2 was murdered by the family she's trying to take down in this book), and they hook up during a house party, but she's very intent on leaving it as a fling while he wants more. She's 49 and he's 40, I believe.

A Recipe for a Rogue by Kathleen Ayers: Hero is a twice-widowed, silver fox who likes to cook, and he slowly seduces the heroine by recipe by recipe from a rare cooking book. The heroine is plus sized and the hero is allllll about that.

The Duke Who Knew Too Much by Grace Callaway: First wife drowned on a boat with their son, and there was some(?) suspicion that the hero caused this to happen but tbh that's kinda overshadowed when the heroine accuses him of murdering his lover... which is how they meet.

Olivia and the Masked Duke by Grace Callaway: First wife was an cheater and an opium addict who also got the hero into it. After she died, the hero went into rehab and got himself clean and became dedicated to fighting drug on the streets, and the heroine was a (much younger) friend during the entire time as she developed a crush on him.

Fiona and the Enigmatic Earl by Grace Callaway: Hawk isn't looking to marry again but agrees to Fiona's proposed marriage of convenience and both of them intend on keeping their secret spy/investigator identities hidden.

What I Did For a Duke by Julie Anne Long: This one's actually really poignant because the hero has so much genuine grief over his first wife passing, but it's a quiet grief that he hides under this snarky, tormentor-ish facade.

Rules for a Proper Governess by Jennifer Ashley: Another hero who has a lot of grief for his wife passing to the point where he's juuuuust reconciling himself to the idea of moving on and possibly marrying someone else when he meets the pickpocket heroine who becomes his children's governess.

When the Duke Was Wicked by Lorraine Heath: Lovingdon is very intent upon not remarrying because he considers his first wife the love of his life and doesn't think there will be anyone else like that, but he slowly starts to fall for his younger family friend Grace, who asks him to help with her suitors.

Duke of Pleasure by Elizabeth Hoyt: Another widower with kids, Hugh is rescued on the streets by Alf, who's pretending to be a boy who's pretending to be The Ghost of St. Giles, and they work together to take down the villains of this book while Hugh continues to believe Alf is a boy.

The Viper by Monica McCarty: There's no love lost between Lachlan MacRuairi and his traitor dead wife, but it takes a while for him and Bella MacDuff to warm up to each other, especially after his prior failed rescue of her. Bella is also actually married for a portion of the book but we don't count her bitchass first husband for much.

In Which Matilda Halifax Learns the Value of Restraint Alexandra Vasti: Everyone thinks Ashford murdered his first wife but he didn't, not that it stops Matilda from being super attracted to him and coming to his remote home to give his sister art lessons.

The Rakess by Scarlett Peckham: The hero is a widower with kids, while the heroine is a free-spirited, sexually open type.

Earl of Every Sin by Scarlett Scott: Alessandro's first wife died during the Peninsular War and refuses to love again, and also refuses to kiss Catriona because "kissing is for his first wife only".

Accidentally Compromising the Duke by Stacy Reid: This man's so traumatized by his first wife dying of childbirth he's like, fingering the heroine to ensure "he did NOT release inside [her]" (which.... insane; basically a reverse breeding kink lolol) and refuses to see her once he finds out she's pregnant.

The Ivy Leavold books by Sierra Simone: Look Sierra herself said this is basically Jane Eyre That Fucks, and Mr. Markham here was married twice and both times the women died under mysterious circumstances. He meets Ivy, who was his late second wife's cousin, when she comes to live with him at his estate.

Contemporary Romance:

Hunted by Adriana Anders: The hero is still grieving his first wife's death and the kink camp they started together reminds him too much of her for him to venture down, until someone answers his ad looking for someone he can do primal play with.

New Camelot trilogy by Sierra Simone: I forgot Ash (King Arthur) was married then widowed between the first time he met Greer (Guinevere) and when they actually get together.

Mickey Chambers Shakes It Up by Charish Reid: Hero is still grieving his first wife, whose bar he takes over, and he also signs up to finish his degree like she would have wanted, which is how he meets the heroine. She's his professor, and she gets hired at his bar without realizing he's her boss.

The Secret She Kept in Bollywood by Tara Pammi: The hero's first wife was a Bollywood actress, and they unknowingly adopted the heroine's biological child that she gave up at birth. Fast forward a decade and a half later, Simon's daughter is about to make her acting debut, and Simon and Anya hook up without realizing who the other person is. ale

Mafia Mistress, Mafia Darling, and Mafia Madman by Mila Finelli: Fausto and Enzo are both widowers but they married their first wives out of duty so them falling for Frankie and Gia is really the first time they're falling in love.

[notebooks-and-laptops]

I've seen a few posts going around about how it's bad writing and unfair that Varric still considers himself a friend of Solas, but had such vicious hate of Anders in Inquisiton.

And these posts are right to an extent; it is very clear the writers of inquisition had no intention of portraying Anders in a positive light. Even a Hawke who romanced Anders and approved of his actions in the chantry sounds kinda on the fence when you actually talk to them about Anders, and implies that Anders constantly needs watching now which. Okay.

But I actually think the whole Varric thing makes a kind of sense to me. And I don't actually necessarily think it's down to 'growth'.

Solas is fundamentally responsible for a whole swath of awful things and far more death than Anders. The explosion of the divine conclave, for example which killed far more people than the chantry explosion in Kirkwall. And then arguably every rift that came after that and all the death associated, as well as the planned death of millions across thedas when he tears down the veil.

But there's a difference between Solas and Anders to Varric. And I think that line is very much how close they are.

Solas and Varric are obviously friends if you listen to their banter, but they're not friends like Varric was friends with the Kirkwall Crew. Varric was at the heart of a friendship group in Kirkwall who were a true found family for SEVEN YEARS. Not only that, but Varric is the reason those people came together to a large extent, especially the reason Anders and Hawke and himself came together for the deep roads expedition.

Varric knew solas for a year in which solas kept himself purposefully distant (not coming to wicked grace night for example) at a time when varric was ALSO keeping himself purposefully distant from making bonds like he had in Kirkwall.

Solas also did a lot of destruction, sure but it's almost...abstracted. it's easier to blame the whole thing on someone else, on Corphyeus. And it's not KIRKWALL. Maybe there are rifts in Kirkwall but we never go there, we never see it. And Kirkwall is the beating heart of Varric Tethras.

Anders, for Varric, destroyed not only the chantry that killed a bunch of people but also their found family, and the city of Kirkwall itself. After Anders act nothing could go back to the way it was before, not even the city itself and that's...that's kinda unforgivable to varric. It's personal and twisted and so so bitter it hurts. He was way more invested and emotionally caught up in the whole thing. Add a sprinkle of self-blame to the entire narrative with Anders that doesn't exist with Solas and of course Varric is way more likely to 'forgive' and try and redeem solas than he was Anders. Of course he is.

[v6quewrlds]

Can you write a fic about Mat getting into a fight on the ice because an opponent said something about you

❝ guilty conscience, m. barzal. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: experimenting with how much i like posting in 3rd person. literally wrote this in my 2 hr philosophy lecture this morning because fuck thomas hobbes. somehow i write all day for my major and minors, yet somehow i still find the will to write these fics lmao.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: a little angsty. established couple argument. language warnings i think. mat is very mat in this one. short and sweet <3

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: mathew barzal x fem!oc (malia).

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 3.6k.

Malia took a sip of her overpriced soda, the fizz tickling her nose as she surveyed the bustling arena. The smell of popcorn and the distant sound of skates slicing ice filled the air. It was her second time watching Mat play a home game for the New York Islanders, and she still felt like the new kid on the block. She wore her navy blue team jersey with "Barzal" emblazoned across the back, a gift from Mat for their two-month anniversary. She'd studied the rules and lingo, eager to fit in, but the pace of the sport still left her breathless.

Grace, the wife of the Islanders' captain Anders, leaned over and tapped her arm. "What do you think, so far?" she said with a knowing smile.

Malia smiled unconvincingly, trying to hide her nerves. Grace had been kind to her, but the other wives and girlfriends were a tougher nut to crack. They all had their own history, their own jokes, and Malia felt like she was trying to catch up on a TV show she'd started mid-season.

"Mat's really got his head in the game tonight," Malia said, hoping to steer the conversation away from her novice status. She watched as he zipped across the ice, stick handling the puck with ease, a blur of motion and concentration.

"Oh, absolutely," Grace agreed, her eyes glued to the action. "When he gets like that, it's like he's in a whole different world. They're all like that, really. Once they find their groove, it's like nothing else exists."

The game grew intense as the period neared its end. Malia felt the excitement of the crowd building like pressure in a pot. Mat's broke away down the ice, and Malia found herself leaning forward in her seat, heart racing. He was so fast, so graceful. It was easy to get lost in the flow of the game when he played. That's when it happened. The opponent, a burly player from the other team, had a smirk on his face as he checked Mat hard into the boards without warning. Malia's breath caught in her throat as Mat pushed himself back up, fists clenched. The smirk grew wider, and the other player opened his mouth to say something. Malia couldn't hear the words, but she saw Mat's face contort in anger.

Her eyes widened as she watched the scene unfold, a mix of horror and disbelief. The opponent had said something to set Mat off, something that made the usually disciplined player see red. Before she could even process what was happening, Mat had thrown his gloves to the ice and was throwing punches. The roar of the crowd grew to a crescendo as the two players grappled, their movements a violent shock. Malia's mind raced as she tried to understand why this was happening, why Mat was fighting.

It was all so raw, so primal.

Grace's grip on her arm tightened, her voice a low murmur. "It's okay, this is just part of the game."

But Malia felt anything but okay. Her heart pounded in her chest, a drumbeat of fear and confusion. The other wives and girlfriends around her remained stoic, but she could see the concern flickering in their eyes. They knew the drill, had probably seen this a hundred times before, but for Malia, it was a jolting reality check.

Mat's fury was a living, breathing entity on the ice, a stark contrast to the loud, carefree persona he was around her. It was a complete shock to the system for Malia. The sight was both terrifying and mesmerizing. She couldn't look away as players from both teams swarmed around them, trying to separate the combatants.

The referees eventually stepped in, breaking up the fight with a flurry of whistles and gestures. Mat was escorted to the penalty box, his teammates patting him on the back in a strange display of support. Malia's eyes remained glued to the ice, her mind racing with questions and fears she didn't know how to voice.

"You okay?" Alexa, Noah Dobson's girlfriend, leaned over, her eyes filled with empathy.

Malia nodded, her eyes not leaving Mat's figure in the penalty box. "I just... I didn't expect that."

Alexa chuckled softly. "Welcome to the league, hon. It's all part of the show."

Malia forced a smile, not sure if she was ready for this kind of drama. As the game resumed, she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd just seen a side of Mat she didn't know or particularly like either. The atmosphere in the arena had shifted, the electric tension of the fight still palpable. Despite the Islanders' lead, the air was thick with unspoken concern.

When the buzzer finally rang, signaling the end of the period, Malia's nerves had her jumping out of her skin. The players skated off the ice, and she took the opportunity to excuse herself to the bathroom, needing a moment to breathe. The cold air greeted her as a departure from the sticky anxiousness of the rink. As she stared into the mirror, she wondered if she was cut out for this life, if the love she had for Mat was enough to handle the darker, more intense moments of his career.

Malia returned to her seat, the game still in progress, and found that Mat had been benched. She watched as he paced back and forth behind the glass, his eyes scanning the stands until they drifted to the Jumbotron after being nudged by a few guys Malia had not met yet.

Malia's focus on her boyfriend was broken as a few of the other girls tapped her on the shoulder, her wide eyes blasted onto the Jumbotron. She forced a smile, her eyes darting away from her face in embarrassment as she realized that the arena cameramen had noticed her #13 jersey. He offered a weak smile as she turned back to him, his eyes still watching her on the screen. She could see the apology in his eyes. He knew she was still trying her best to wrap her head around the culture and rules of the game she was learning to love for his sake.

The final buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the match. The Islanders had won despite the scuffle, and Malia felt an odd mix of relief and dread as the players started to make their way off the ice. The group of them gathered their things, and she watched as Mat skated over to the bench to exchange a few words with the coach before disappearing into the locker room.

Grace gave her a reassuring pat on the back. "You'll get used to it," she said with a knowing smile. "It's part of the game. They get caught up in the moment."

Malia nodded, not entirely convinced. She knew that fights were a part of hockey, but seeing Mat so consumed by rage was unsettling, so unlike the boyfriend she knew. She sent Mat a short text, telling him she'd wait in the car for him instead of waiting with the others by the locker rooms. The coolness of the night air outside the arena brought air back into her lungs as she stepped into the parking lot. She leaned against the cold metal of the car, her heart still racing from the adrenaline rush of the fight.

When Mat emerged from the arena, his eyes searched the lot until they found her, his expression a completely devoid of any anger or self-awareness. He looked tired but victorious as he approached, his dark, fluffy hair beginning to dry from his shower. He opened the passenger door with his trademark crooked grin. "You didn't wait in the usual spot."

Malia looked at him, confusion evident on her face though she quickly pushed it aside. Maybe she was making too big a deal of it. "I just needed some air," she said, sliding into the car. "How are you feeling?"

Mat shrugged as he closed the door. "Fine. Why?" His tone was light, almost casual as he slid into the driver's seat. It was as if the fight had never happened. He threw his bag into the back and started the car, the engine rumbling to life.

"You know, the fight," Malia said, trying to keep her voice even. "You guys were really going at it."

Mat's eyes darted to her, then back to the road. "Oh, that. Just part of the game, babe. No big deal."

Malia's jaw tightened. "It looked pretty big to me." She couldn't ignore the fear that had gripped her during the fight.

Mat sighed, his eyes still on the road. "Look, it's just the heat of the moment. Sometimes things get intense out there."

Malia stared out the window, the city lights blurring together as they drove. "I guess," she muttered with a quiet sigh. She knew Mat was trying to downplay it, but she couldn't shake the image of his furious expression.

Mat's hand reached over and gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. "You okay?"

Malia took a deep breath and shifted in her seat, his calloused hand falling away from her skin. "Yeah, just tired I guess. Long day."

It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the full truth either. The fight had left her emotionally drained. She'd seen Mat get competitive, sure, but never violent. It was a side of him she didn't know how to reconcile with the man who made her laugh and supported her studies so wholeheartedly.

The silence in the car grew thick as they approached Mat's apartment. Malia felt a knot in her stomach tighten. This wasn't the same playful tension they usually shared; it was heavier, denser, and less fun. When they pulled into the parking lot, Mat turned to her, his jaw set with tension as if he was bracing for something.

"What's up with you?" he asked, his voice a mix of annoyance and genuine concern.

Malia's eyes rolled before she turned to face him. "What's up with me? I don't know Mat, maybe I just didn't like seeing you like that." Her voice was a mix of anger and fear.

Mat looked at her with a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. "Like what? It's just hockey. Shit like that happens all the time."

Malia's voice grew stronger as she turned to face him fully. "But you've never fought before, at least not since we've been together. What even was that?"

Mat's expression grew defensive. "It happened hours ago, Malia. Why are we even talking about this right now?"

Malia's eyes filled with frustration. "Because it's not just 'shit that happens' to me. That was you out there fighting for... what? Some kind of ego trip?" She knew she was being unfair, but she couldn't help the words from spilling out.

Mat's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "It's not like that, and you know it," he snapped. "It was a cheap hit..." He trailed off, his jaw clenching. Malia remained silent, holding back her growing anger as Mat pulled into a parking spot in the garage. They exited the car, stubbornness palpable in the air between them as they rode the elevator to his floor.

Once inside the apartment, Mat tossed his keys onto the counter and turned to her, his eyes flashing with irritation. "You're overreacting. It's part of the game."

Malia threw her purse onto the couch, her voice rising with frustration. "Maybe for you it is, but I've never seen you like that!" She felt a tremor of fear and anger at his dismissiveness. "What if you had gotten seriously hurt?"

Mat stared at her, his eyes darting over her features as he took a step closer. "That's not going to happen. I know what I'm doing out there."

Malia stepped back, her arms crossing defensively over her chest. "It's not just about you knowing what you're doing. It's about the fact that I don't want to see you like that. It scared me, Mat."

Mat groaned, running a hand through his damp hair. "But I didn't get hurt," he said, his voice still holding on to its edge. "Can we just drop it?"

Malia's eyes narrowed, looking for a hint of understanding. "No, we can't just drop it," she said firmly. "You're not the only one affected by what happens on the ice. You're my boyfriend, and when you're out there fighting like that, it's not just about the game." She turned on her heels, huffing as she stalked off to Mat's bedroom.

Mat followed her, his frustration evident in the heavy thud of his feet on the floor. "What do you want me to say, Malia?" he called after her. "It's not like I was planning on fighting."

Malia spun around in the doorway to the bedroom, her eyes flashing. "I want you to say that you get it. That you understand that I don't want to see you hurt or risking your health over some stupid shit, Mathew." He took a deep breath, his eyes closing as his temper flared again.

Malia turned her back to him, her hands shaking slightly as she unbuttoned her coat. "And for the record," she added, her voice trembling, "The only thing that actually matters to me is that you're okay."

"And I'm completely fine," Mat said, his voice tight as he stepped closer to her. "It's not like it's the first time I've thrown a punch, Malia. I'm not some fragile porcelain doll you have to worry about."

Malia whipped around, her own anger rising to match his. "I don't give a fuck about what you're used to, or what the sport expects from you!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the hallway. "I care about you, and what you do out there affects me! You were a different person out there, and I didn't like it!"

Mat stopped in his tracks, his face a mask of shock. Malia had never raised her voice at him. In fact, the first time they met, he constantly had to ask her to repeat herself with her voice so shy. The sight of her fuming with emotion was enough to make his eyebrows furrow. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his own anger in check.

"What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice low and tight. "I'm out there playing the game I love, trying to win for my team, and for you to sit here and act like it's all about you and what you want..."

"Do you think? Ever?" Malia's voice cracked, the words cutting through the tension like a knife. She didn't mean for it to come out so loud, so harsh, but the fear and frustration had been building up inside her like a pressure cooker. She couldn't stand there any longer, listening to Mat belittle her feelings. She grabbed her bag and stormed out of the bedroom.

Mat followed her, his own anger bubbling to the surface. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded, his voice rising to match hers.

"I'm not doing this with you. If you don't want to talk about it, fine, but don't act like I'm some kind of drama queen," Malia retorted, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and hurt. She couldn't believe that he was making it sound like her fear was unreasonable. Her hands shook as she bit back tears, her straightened hair falling out of place from the stress of the evening.

Mat's face softened a little, and he took a step closer to her. "Malia, come on. You're really gonna leave because of this?"

But Malia was already halfway to the door, her heart racing with the need to get out of the apartment. "I don't know," she said, her voice tight with emotion. "I just can't be here right now."

Mat sighed, hesitating to speak for a moment before he reached out to grab her arm. His grip was firm but not painful. "Don't go. I'm being a dick, I know, I'm sorry. Let's just talk this out."

Malia paused, her hand on the doorknob. She took a deep breath, the cold metal feeling solid and reassuring under her fingertips. She turned to face him, her eyes still shiny with unshed tears. "Mat, I'm not trying to control you. I just want you to understand that it's hard to watch someone you care about lose it like that."

Mat let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, okay," he said, his voice calmer. "I get it. It's just... he said something about you."

Malia froze. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice low and cold.

Mat sighed heavily, his grip on her arm loosening. "He made a joke, some dumbass, weird joke about you. It pissed me off, and I couldn't just ignore it 'cause he kept goin’." His eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of understanding.

Malia's heart skipped a beat. She had never thought that someone would say something so disrespectful about her, especially not to Mat's face. "What did he say?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Mat's eyes grew dark with anger. "It doesn't matter. It was just a stupid comment, but it hit a nerve."

Malia felt a twist in her stomach. She didn't know what was worse: the fact that Mat had gotten into a fight for her or that someone had talked about her in such a way. "Mat, you can't fight every battle for me," she said softly, turning to face him. "I'm not on the ice, those guys will say whatever they think is gonna rile you up. They don’t know me. I’m just some girl to them. It’s not worth it.”

Mat's expression grew serious as he stepped closer to her, his hand dropping from her arm to cradle her face instead. "You're not just some girl, Malia. You're everything to me. And when someone disrespects you like that..." His voice trailed off, the intensity of his emotions clear in his eyes. "I couldn't just let it go. That's the least I can do for you."

Malia's gaze searched his, the anger in her heart slowly giving way to the love she had for him. She knew he didn't mean to downplay her strength, but the thought of him fighting over her hurt more than she cared to admit. She leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand grounding her. "I love you," she whispered. "But I don't want you to get hurt because of me."

Mat's expression softened, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her cheek. "I love you too," he murmured. "And I'll do my best to keep my cool out there if that's what you want."

Malia took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the night's events start to lift. "Don't 'if you want' me Mathew Barzal, do it because it's the right thing to do," she said with a hint of a smile.

Mat chuckled, his own smile spreading across his face. "Okay, okay," he conceded, leaning in to kiss her forehead gently. "But you know how competitive I am."

Malia rolled her eyes but couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through her at his touch. "I know," she said, her voice softer. "Just remember that I'm not just some prize to be won or lost out there. I'm your girlfriend, and I chose you."

Mat nodded, his thumb still caressing her cheek. "I know," he murmured. "And I'm sorry that I made it seem like that. It won't happen again." He spoke decisively before bending down to connect their lips.

Malia leaned into the kiss, feeling some of the tension in her shoulders melt away. "I just want you to be safe," she said, her voice muffled against his lips.

Mat pulled back, his eyes searching hers. "I know," he murmured. "And I promise, I'll keep that in mind. I don't want to scare you."

Malia's eyes met his, the fear and anger slowly receding as she saw the sincerity in his gaze. She took another deep breath and nodded. "Okay."

Mat's arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a tight hug. She melted into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart against her chest. They stood there for a moment, the tension in the room slowly dissipating.

"I know this isn't easy for you," he murmured into her hair. "But you gotta trust me out there."

Malia leaned into his embrace, the smell of his post-game musk mixing with the faint scent of his cologne. It was a familiar scent, one that brought comfort amidst the chaos of her emotions. "I will," she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder.

They stood there for a few moments longer before they both pulled away. Mat smiled down at her, the tension in his face slowly receding. "Now that that's over, do I get a reward for the win tonight?" he asked playfully, his eyes lightening.

Malia couldn't help but roll her eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Maybe," she said, her voice teasing.

"Only maybe?" Malia heard the playful challenge in Mat's voice as she walked away from him. She glanced over her shoulder and gave him a look that was part glare, part smile.

"You're lucky you scored that winning goal." She brushed past her boyfriend with a swish of her hips, heading towards the bedroom. The bold 'Barzal' stuck out across her back, a symbol of her commitment to supporting him. Mat caught himself staring as Malia turned to him with a flourish of her hair.

"Are you coming?" Malia called over her shoulder, her voice a mix of tease and challenge.

Mat's eyes nearly popped out of his head as he watched her retreating form, his playfulness momentarily forgotten. He hurried after her, trying to match her pace as they entered the bedroom.

"I'm about to be," he quipped, his voice filled with affection, drawing a “Gross!” and a giggle from Malia.