#mattie´s random ramblings

[therubberotter]

It's been a loooong week, and the weather was so rainy and cold...Alma and I decided that a sleepover was the answer to chase those Sunday scaries away!! ✨

[god-has-entered-my-body]

Do you see me? - Matty Healy

A/N: okay it's sort of short and a bit shit and i played around with the dynamic so it might seem off xx thanks @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff you absolute legend for finding the titles for my blurbs by scouring the 1975's discography based off my extremely vague parameters❤️

wc: 3.5k

content warnings: matty in lingerie (again), mpind typical cursing, bondage (handcuffs), thigh riding, cumplay, begging, switch! Matty, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, matty being a knob as per use

Your head is throbbing, the beat of the shitty house music still echoing in your skull even twenty minutes later. Matty is hanging on your arm, weighing you down as he rambles on about how shit the drinks were, and that you shouldn't have bothered going out in the first place. He was right, the diluted alcohol and trashy EDM ruining a perfectly good sunday night, better spent at an actual club instead of some random blokes house. 

Matty’s hands grip your back as you push the front door open, keeping his balance as the platform boots he had borrowed from you made it quite difficult to walk normally. The light in the foyer automatically comes on, the fancy motion sensors painting the space in a warm glow, casting a shadow over the unorganized pile of shoes on the floor.  

His hands run up your sides as you toe your heels off, tugging your dress down when it rides up, lace scratching the skin of your thighs. Your choice of attire this evening was a tight bodycon dress, red lace details adorning the neckline and bottom hem, a pretty contrast against the black fabric, clinging to your body like a second skin. Matty’s mouth fell open when he saw you slip it on, adjusting its straps in the floor length mirror in your bedroom. 

“Look so pretty tonight, love this dress on you.” he mumbled as his eyes raked up and down your body, drinking you in. 

The party was a flop, both of you promising never to go to that specific house ever again, also deciding to better stay clear of the friend that had extended the invite. 

Since you arrived, his hands were always on some part of your body, whether they were wrapped around your waist, resting on your lower back, or intertwined with yours, his thumb rubbing small circles into the back of your hand. 

Matty leans down to press a kiss to your glossed lips, a peck quickly transforming into his fingers weaving into your hair, pulling you against him. You give into his touch, your bodies flush as he pushes you backwards in the direction of the living room, your knees hitting something wooden. 

“Just- yeah, this is better.” he says as he seats you down onto his posh little decorative chair, the wood smooth against the back of your thighs. Matty’s favorite piece of furniture was a oak wood sitting room chair, the armrests cared to look like trees and flowers, painted in pretty pastels. You always found it a bit morbid, seeing as a tree had died to create it, and painting its living counterpart onto a corpse wasn't really to your taste. 

His lips are hot against yours, tongue licking into your mouth with fervor as you sigh into the kiss, letting your eyes droop closed. Your breathing is heavy, chest heaving against his as he leans over you, dominating the kiss. It felt odd, him above you while you let him kiss you, not the other way around. Lost in your thoughts, you don't even notice one of his hands stop touching you. 

The click is impossible loud as you feel a cool sensation on the skin of your wrist. Your eyes snap open, landing on Matty first before dragging down to your left hand, a pair of handcuffs coming into view. It takes a few seconds for it to actually click. Handcuffs. Matty had handcuffs, and they were on you, also on the armrest. Wait, what? 

Matty chuckles at your confusion, taking the opportunity to reach into his back pocket, pulling out another pair, snapping them onto your right wrist before you could even react properly.   

“What the fuck- Matty?” you sound a bit panicked, tugging at the restraints, not really understanding the purpose of his actions. That was, until you see a filthy smirk spread onto your boyfriend's face.

“Let me out, I swear to fucking god. I don't care what you are playing at.” you resort to immediately throwing around threats, the feeling of being trapped overwhelming you. All he does is watch you struggle, a mischievous expression on his face. 

He presses a finger to your lips, shushing you condescending as cures spill from your lips, the metal of the handcuffs harshly digging into your skin.

“In a bind?” he taunts, his hand stroking your face as you glare at him, not liking the lack of control you possessed. It felt strange, your eyes searching his for a hint of humor, maybe this was a prank? A crude joke to rile you up, his incessant need for attention always finding new, innovative ways to get it from you.

“Fuck you, what do you want?” you spit, eyes narrowing in suspicion. 

“There's so many things I want, but let's start with a simple task first.” he twirls a strand of his hair around his finger, pouting at you. Annoyance bubbles up inside of you, threatening to overflow.

“Be nice to me, won't you? I’ve put in so much effort into your seduction, give me some credit.” His definition of effort was distracting you long enough to snap two pairs of expensive looking handcuffs onto your wrists, but it was more elaborate than his usual routine, which was constantly being nuisance until you gave in. 

“Seduction? More like trickery, you dickhead.” he winces at your insult, clutching his chest over his heart, playing up his offense. 

He tuts at you, mimicking exactly what you did whenever he mouthed off at you. The lightbulb in your head finally clicks on. 

“You could have just told me you wanted attention.” your expression darkens as his eyes dart around, acting caught. That couldn't really be it, right? This was way to much extravagance, even for Matty 

“That's it, isn't it?” he waves a hand to dismiss your words and you scoff, bewildered and intrigued, wondering how long he was going to keep this up for until he finally gave up, letting you free. He spins around on the heel of his foot, hips swaying as took a few steps away from you 

“Watch me.” His voice is thick, sultry, different.

He faces you, his whole body shamelessly on display for you to gawk at. A thin white button down covers his chest, the first four buttons already open, showing traces of his tattoos. The leather trousers he wears look painted onto him, clinging to his legs, the waist of them so low it was obscene.

His fingers work at the remaining buttons as you drink him in, unabashedly staring at his lower half, the leather barely concealing his growing erection. 

The faint trail of hair under his belly button becomes visible as the shirt slips down his shoulders, pooling onto the ground next to his feet. His hands run over his skin, feeling himself up while you sit exactly three feet away, unable to do anything about it but watch, the sight driving you insane. 

He had never denied you like this before, always being ready and willing for you to touch him, feel him, graze your nails over his cock as his back arched into you, begging for relief. It had always been the other way around, Matty on his knees, pleading for your hands, mouth, anything. 

“You're so rough with me.” His voice is whiny as he makes eye contact with you, trailing his fingers over the myriad of hickeys and bite marks that littered his neck, all various shades of purple and red, some faded more than others.

“So aggressive, turns me on.” he breathes harshly, pressing down onto a particularly prominent mark, hissing at the pain that radiated from it. 

“Does it now?” you say, fighting to keep your composure.  

“Yeah.” he parts his lips provocatively, throwing his head back as his hands leave his throat, running through his tangled mess of curls instead.

“Is that why you wouldn't leave me alone at the party?” you try to keep your answers short and simple, attempting to conceal the blatant arousal clouding your mind. Your thighs clench together, your dress riding up slightly. 

“Among other things.” 

You swallow as he takes two steps towards you, his movements fluid and sensual, the look in his eye unrecognizable.

His hand suddenly grabs your face, squeezing it harshly between his fingers. Your lips pucker, a bit of drool falling onto his digits, and you can't do anything but take it, a foreign feeling taking over your body.

“Gorgeous.” he mutters, slipping his thumb past your parted lips. Breathless, you let him explore your mouth, saliva pooling on your tongue as he presses down. 

It all feels surreal, the way Matty just does, not once asking for permission. You can see that familiar glimmer in his eye, an unconscious urge to submit, to serve still present, even if his actions tell a completely different story.

“Do not take your eyes off me.” you nod mindlessly, like you’d ever dream of missing a second of what was happening in front of you. 

His slender fingers toy with the zipper of his trousers, and he smirks at the way you lunge forward, promptly hindered by the cuffs still around your wrists. You seem to keep forgetting that fact, your entire body on fire as he makes delicious eye contact with you, unbuttoning the leather. 

You stare, entranced by his movements, slow and deliberate, yet still never letting you get used to one singular thing. He pushes the trouser down, a hint of his underwear visible over the waistband.

Green catches your eye, and it's not until his fingers reach to snap the fabric against his skin that you realize what he’s wearing.  

“Let me out.” you warn, breathless. The panties you had eyed at that store, the ones he had put into the basket and paid for with a wink.

“No.”

“LET ME OUT.” you pull violently, yanking at the metal, hoping it would snap off or break or something, anything to get your hands on Matty. He chuckles at your reaction, raising his eyebrows as you cease your struggle 

“Where's the fun in that?” he says, palming himself through the underwear, moaning at the relief. You whine, rapidly tapping your foot against the floor when you realize that your efforts are futile. Leave it to Matty to buy handcuffs made out of titanium, even if the pink color of them made them look cheap. 

“Matty, let me out- you can't just- not when you look like that.” you choke, not knowing where to look as he sets his hands on your shoulders, grinning wildly, the expression on your face satisfying him.

“Relax, let it happen.” he coos into your ear, his legs moving to straddle you in the spacious chair.

His lips catch yours in a passionate kiss, your teeth clashing against each other in a mess of spit and tongue. You moan pathetically into his mouth, your mind clouded in lust and desperation, begging him to uncuff you.

You let yourself be kissed, his mouth slowly moving down your jaw, nipping the skin with his teeth, leaving light scratch marks in their wake. 

He alternates between sucking and biting your neck, the sensation making you dizzy with need, your thighs squeezing together in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure.

“What do you feel?” he asks, pulling away to get a good look at your face. His eyes dart over your face, drinking in the mess he’d reduced you to. 

“What?”

“You’re not in control, I have you. What do you feel?” he breathes against your ear, sucking the lobe between his teeth. Your breath hitches, a familiar heat spreading throughout your body, your nipples hardening under your dress as he cups your tits.

“It’s-” you gasp, being cut off by his erection grinding down onto your bare thigh.

“Good?” he finishes, the words dragged out as the pleasure blooms inside of him, all the blood in his head rushing south. 

“Amazing.” you know he cant help himself, and you tense your leg under him, feeling his cock twitch against you.

His arms wrap around your neck as he ruts against your thigh, moaning into your ear, holding nothing back. You whisper small praises back, encouraging him even if you don't want to, the blissed out look on his face making you crack a prideful smile. 

“Feels so good taking you like this, can't even put me in my place, can you?” he mumbles as the wet patch on the front of his panties grows larger, precum leaking onto your skin.

“You're fucking finished once I get out of this.” you threaten, fists clenching and unclenching around the armrests. 

“Is that a threat or a promise?” he deliberately pitches his voice, letting out performative moans as his hips stutter, the tip of his cock brushing against a rough bit of lace.

“God- fuck, you were onto something with these.” he snaps the waistband of his panties, hissing at the sting.

“Feels amazing, especially if it's you I'm rubbing up against.” his hand strokes your face, his chest and cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink as you eye him up and down, your lips slightly parted.  

“It’d feel so much better if you’d let me go.” you try, knowing it's futile to fight him. He pretends to ponder, stilling against your thigh as his eyes narrow in deep thought. You knew better than to believe it was a genuine debate, his filthy smirk returning when you realize he wasn't going to release you anytime soon. 

He laughs in your face, borderline delirious as he grinds against you, whimpering dirty strings of curses into your ear, his breath hot and intoxicating.

He uses you to get himself off, feeding off of the undivided attention you give him, your eyes never leaving his body. 

His moans grow louder as his cock leaks all over you, his panties completely ruined by now.

“F-fuck, i’m so close. Wanna watch me cum? See how good you make me feel- shit.”

Your pupils are blown out, eyes wide as you watch him cum with a choked groan, spilling all over your thigh, sullying the bottom part of your pretty dress.

Matty’s breathing is erratic, curses falling from his lips as he shakes from the force of his orgasm, his face buried into the crook of your neck as you squirm desperately.

“Are you satisfied?” you mumble, slightly fucked off at the fact that you hadn’t been able to touch him at all, that he had gotten there all on his own.

“Very.” his voice is muffled by your hair, his hands trailing up to cup your tits, groping them with a glint in his eye. You shiver under his touch, pleasure blooming from your chest.

“I could've done it better.” he chuckles at your words, pressing a sweet kiss to the side of your mouth.

“I know, but it was worth it seeing you all riled up.” you roll your eyes in annoyance, hips bucking upwards against the weight of him, searching for any sort of relief.

“Are you desperate?” he coos into your ear, his breath hot against your cheek as his fingers toy with the hem of your dress, covered in his cum.

You scoff at him, trying to calm down and steady your breath as he drops to his knees, nuzzling his face into your lap, peering up at you. 

He parts his lips, tongue lapping up the remnants of his orgasm, licking you clean. You feel the world spin around you, every single part of you screaming at him to you fucking do something.

“Please.” you force out, his hand parting your legs further.

“Oh?” there's a hint of victory in his voice, knowing he’s won. You were giving in, scooting to the edge of your seat, anything to get closer to him. 

His fingers push the lacey hem of your dress, your damp underwear visible against your aching cunt.

“You’re so wet, I can see it from here.” you blush, moving to close your legs. He stops your attempt, digging his nails into your skin.

“Keep them spread, m’gonna make you feel so good.” 

“I need you, please Matty fuck-” his palms grip your thighs as he mouths at your cunt, licking the fabric of your panties, occasionally grazing his teeth other your clothed clit. 

You whimper and moan, bucking into his mouth as he slips them off with his teeth, winking at you when you make eye contact. 

He balls your underwear up and throws it off to the side, forgotten, in the corner. Faced with your glistening core, he licks up your slit, relishing in the way you clench your walls around his tongue, getting lost in the taste of you. 

“It tastes so good, I could spend my whole life right here.” you can only whimper in response, the metal of the handcuffs around your wrists digging into your skin, the dull pain only amplifying the pleasure of Matty sucking your clit between his lips. 

Wet sounds fill the room as he lets you grind against his face, taking back a sliver of the control he had ripped away from you. You feel lightheaded, waves of pleasure washing over you as he doubles his efforts, almost as if trying to apologize for everything he had done to you up until this point. 

A particularly loud moan spills from your lips as he latches onto your clit once again, letting his teeth into the mix. It's slightly painful, but only adds to the overwhelming sensation, the elastic band in your core tightening more and more. He smirks and you feel it on your cunt, a filthy look on his face when he realizes you're close, only needing a little push to get you over that delicious edge. 

“Gonna cum for me? Make my face all dirty?” His voice is muffled, but you hear him loud and clear, his nails digging deep as he buries his tongue into your cunt, feeling you twitch and convulse, your orgasm so close you could taste it. 

“Oh god, i’m so close- fuck.”

“Cum all over my face, paint me yours.” he moans, sucking your clit between his wet lips, feeling you tense up, fingers clutching the armrests they were bound to for dear life. 

Your vision whites out for a few moments as you violently cum, thrashing and gasping for air as the pleasure washes over you in stages, Matty working you through it.

It takes a few moments for you to regain your position, Matty’s eyes peering up at you from his position on the ground, his mouth and chin covered in your slick. He licks his lips provocatively, moaning as the remnants of you hits his tongue, sickly sweet.  

He moves to uncuff you, your wrists an angry red from the fight you had put up earlier in the night. His mouth peppers light kisses over the bruises, quote un-quote “kissing it better”. It was endearing, watching him take such good care of you, even if you did insist that you were perfectly fine. 

“See how good it feels to let go?” he asks, trailing his fingers up your bare arm.

You nod, your hair sticking to your forehead as you breathe shallowly, completely exhausted. His expression is one of love, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“You’re so pretty like this, all fucked out. Finally I get to see the other perspective.” you chuckle, his words ringing true 

This was the first time in your relationship the roles had been even slightly reversed, him restraining you instead of the other way round. His cocky and confident nature, one that usually crumbled after skilled touches and a few whispered words, stayed present the entire way through, stripping you of the control you were used to. 

You were never opposed to him taking on the more dominant role, it was just that neither the situation, nor the opportunity had ever presented itself, with Matty always being more naturally submissive, dropping to his knees in front of you at the flip of a switch. 

You smile at him fondly, delicate fingers reach out to cup his face softly, mindlessly swiping at the skin

“You’ll be seeing a lot more of it if it feels like that.” he sniggers, his eyes crinkling up as laughter fills your ears.

“Does this mean I get to take pictures too?” he sounds so hopeful, making it impossible to just say ‘no’. You huff instead, a smile spreading onto your face, telling him all he needed to know. 

[didyoulookforme]

pov: you go to one of their gigs

old ramble written last year.

warning: 18+. follows no timeline. not proofread, so grammatical errors and typos.

masterlist here

not. this. again.

no matter how fucking hard you tried to keep it together, you somehow always found yourself crying over the same idiot, tall boy. for nearly three years now, you’d tried to shake off your feelings for george but at this point it honestly seemed impossible. you always fell for his attention even though you knew it was a sick, toxic cycle. sigh. you couldn't do this to yourself anymore.

it was mid october. you were at a venue in london waiting for the band to take the stage. george had asked (well, more like begged actually) over the phone for you to come to their gig that night even though you were drained and exhausted. "please. i miss you." you didn't know if his plea was sincere or not, but it made your heart beat faster. you hated to admit you missed him, too.

"fine, but don't count on me for anything after." you had worked 12 consecutive shifts to stash away some money as you wanted to do some travelling around europe. you were in your early 20's. you were supposed to have fun, get lost in random cities, take drugs with strangers, all of those things you saw on films and tv. while you loved london, you wanted to visit some places with a bit more colour to them and try to forget about him for at least a few weeks or so. it wasn't too much to ask for, right?

after he convinced you to show up, you figured you might as well try to make the most of your night out. you stumbled upon him and ross when they were out for a quick smoke, george quick to plant a kiss on your cheek followed by a tight embrace that lingered longer than expected. he was warm and, to your dismay, it made you feel warm inside, too. it seemed that every chance he got, he would touch you in some way, whether a brush of your arm, a hand on your lower back, a gentle grip on your hip. you tried to not think much of it knowing you couldn't afford to get tangled up in this mess all over again. you loved him (to some extent) but the sleepless nights and ongoing fights were not worth it anymore.

when the opening band finished, you made your way to the front to watch them perform from a closer spot. you had attended many of their gigs at this point and you genuinely fell in love with their music, albeit you wouldn't tell them directly. you had too much pride for such confession.

the gig started, the fangirl in you waking up and getting excited to sing along, forgetting about your exhaustion and lack of sleep. matty noticed you, giving a small wave and blowing a kiss in your direction before diving into the next song. while george was the one who unfortunately held your heart, you had a soft spot for the front boy, even having made out with him several times before just for the hell of it. alcohol and weed might have been involved, though...

after a few more songs, you couldn't help but notice the way george effortlessly played on stage, arms moving in calculated motions, messy hair swaying from side to side. he would look straight at you, wink and bite his bottom lip, which just made you laugh. he hadn't changed one bit. you remembered him doing this same routine at your place whenever he craved your attention. and george did it because he knew it worked like a charm. you had to admit it felt nice to have his focus on you, making you wonder if maybe, just maybe, the two of you could work it out again.

when the show ended and the boys went backstage, you managed to sneak yourself back there after 20 minutes or so, in hopes of finding them and saying your goodbyes. you kept opening every door to check if it was their dressing room, but you had no luck for a while.

you twisted another handle, opening the door and your heart sank to your stomach, making you feel instantly sick. in front of you happened to be your dear drummer with another girl's head between his legs. you were not quite sure which words left your lips, but they must've been loud enough for the both of them to turn around and take notice of you. this couldn't be happening. not. again.

you shut the door and quickly walked through the corridor, trying to find the nearest exit to get some fresh air in your lungs. not again, not again is all you could repeat in your head. you couldn't believe that somewhere deep inside your gut, you hoped that this could be the time that george and you kissed once more and went back to your flat together. why did you even think that would happen? and most importantly, why did you even want it to happen? not. again.

"fuck. i'm—i'm sorry." you were staring down at the floor which made you bump into someone. "i'm sorry." you kept apologizing as you made an effort to step away without looking up. you knew there were tears streaming down your face and didn't want anyone to see the mess you were at that moment. but you felt a tight grip on your arm and heard a familiar, warm voice call your name.

this is what finally made you turn around. "i'm sorry, matty. i can't..." you tried to break free from his grasp but he continued to hold on. "what's going on, darling? are you okay?" there was genuine concern embracing his words which made you cry ever more. not right now for fuck's sake.

you looked away, embarrassed at your state and not wanting to admit to him (or yourself) why you were uncontrollably sobbing. "hey. what happened, what is—" his voice trailed off as someone else seemed to be hurrying in your direction, calling your name, too. an exasperated george now stood besides you, breathing heavily. from running or coming in that girl's mouth, you didn't want to know.

"i've been looking for you everywhere. i can explain that," he pointed behind him, "back there." he was still catching his breath and it made you feel sick once more, taking every ounce of control to not vomit at that very second. the colour drained from your face as you started to shake, the tips of your fingers and jaw numb from a dangerous mix of anger and anxiety. he tried to grab your hand but you instantly recoiled, not wanting him to be near you, let alone touch you. "george, don’t.”

you saw as he nervously ran his long fingers through his hair thinking of what to say next. nothing. no words that came out of his mouth could provide any comfort, you were sure of that. you walked away, still trying to find the damn exit out of this hellish place. fuck george. fuck him for always pulling you in so close only to break you into one million pieces.

you finally managed to step outside, feeling lightheaded, heart still pounding in your ears. you found a dimly lit patch of grass and sat down, doing your best to focus on the cold air against your skin to try and keep him out of your mind. you felt so stupid. why did you think tonight would be any different?

great. someone was walking towards you. you stood up to leave. “please talk to me.” you turned to look at him. “please.”

“what do you want me to say, matty?” your hands covered your face as you continued to cry, not caring anymore if he heard you. you felt him inch closer, eventually putting his arms around you, holding you. “why does he always do this to me? why do i always hold on to his every word hoping that things will change? that he will actually want me.”

you felt his grip tighten around your shoulders. “he’s not worth it. he’s my best mate and i care for him deeply, but he’s not worth it,” he whispered into your hair. “please trust me on this one.”

all you could do was wrap your arms around him, yearning to hold someone close, to make you feel like you were for once safe and loved.

[raysofcrosby]

NOW THAT I FOUND YOU – M. BARZAL

requested: yes | no

warning(s): cursing, slight mentions of sex, but other than that, nothing.

word count: 5,868

authors note: welcome to my new series :) i have no idea how long this is going to last, but i’m pretty excited for it. so, first things first, considering what i have planned for the character of jeremy, i didn’t want to use a real rangers player. so jeremy is a fictional dude on the team. i think that’s it for now, i’m not really sure what else i can think of about this series. so, oh well, enjoy :)

my masterlist | stuff i have planned | who i’ll write for | requests

"I can't take it anymore!" Tito said, storming into the locker room and stomping his way over to his cubby. "I am literally going to take her to the Brooklyn bridge and throw her into the Hudson."

Mat looked up from his skates and over at his best friend as he plopped down into his cubby, huffing, and puffing as he got undressed. He looked over at Anders, who was looking at Brass...the three of them all sharing confused looks at their locker neighbor. "Uh, you okay over there Tito?" Anders asked, looking at Mat for at least the slightest hint as to what he could be rambling on about.

"No clue," Mat mouthed, shrugging his shoulders and looking back down as he continued to tie his skate.

"No, I'm not okay," Tito tossed his sweatshirt into his cubby and stepped out of his joggers. "Does anyone want a newly 22-year-old female college student? Because I have one and I'm not opposed to passing her off before I result to murder."

"I'm pretty sure that is illegal, buddy," Jordan said, walking by and patting him on the shoulder. "Both are, actually. Like, highly illegal."

"Oh, God Tito," Matt said, coming out from the bathrooms. "What are you bitching about now?"

"She ironed my underwear." Tito tugged on his pants over his compression shorts and sighed, shaking his head.

"What?" Mat laughed, reaching behind him and grabbing his compression shirt.

"Y/N...she ironed my underwear," he stood up and turned towards his cubby, pulling a pair of ironed boxers out of the duffle he had carried in with him and turned back towards the guys. "I went to grab a pair this morning and I was greeted with this! They're stiff, feel powdery and quite frankly smell like shit–"

"Are you sure that's the soap and not just your horrible hygiene?" Matt joked, tossing a water bottle at him.

"Manchuk...Matty," Tito smiled, turning in their direction. "How do you two feel about having a live-in nanny? Her cooking skills are subpar unless even worse if the recipe comes off of Pinterest. She consumes more wine than water– but she's great with kids."

"I'm just finding it hard to believe your only problem with Y/N is the fact she ironed your underwear," Jordan said, shaking his head. "What's the catch?"

"Yeah, there's got to be something else that has you considering pre-meditated murder," Matt chimed in with a loud laugh.

"I NEED TO GET LAID, all right?!" Tito yelled, tossing his ironed pair of boxers back into the duffle bag. "I need to have hot, drunken sex with a stranger who lets herself out in the morning! I need to get laid so fucking bad, but I can't do it with my sister in the room across from mine! It's gross."

The locker room was silent as his teammates just stared at him. Mat wanted to laugh at his best friend but didn't want to do it at his expense. Sure, he'd been there a time or two, what young guy in his 20's hasn't. But never had he yelled about it to his teammates in such an exaggerated fashion. "Have you thought about telling her that?" Mat asked, grabbing his practice jersey and sliding it on over his head. "Y/N's pretty reasonable, I'm sure she'd agree to go to a friends or something for the night."

"Oh yeah, let me just go ahead and tell my little sister, 'hey, do you mind getting out of the apartment for the night? I need to get my dick sucked. Thanks, don't tell mom!'" Tito sat down to put on his skates, giving Mat a sarcastic look. "Does that sound good to you, Barzy?"

"I don't know about Barzy, but that sounds great to me," Matt laughed as he tied his pants. "Why is she staying at your place? I thought she was in Uni? Doesn't she have a dorm?"

"Nope, she followed her doucheface of a boyfriend down here and he convinced her to stay in his apartment instead of getting a dorm." He stood up and reached into his locker, grabbing his practice jersey. "Next thing I know, she shows up at my door crying, saying they broke up and she's been at my place ever since."

Mat remembered that night. He and Tito were pre-gaming, finishing off their drinks, and waiting for the uber to arrive. They were coming off of a high, absolutely destroying the Maple Leafs 5-0 and that high followed them home. Everyone on the team was going out– it was a well called for a celebration, even the guys with families at home. Normally, the team would pregame together before taking ubers over to whatever club or bar they decided to take over for the night. But those who did have kids at home wanted to stop at home and say goodnight to their wives and kids before heading out.

They were talking about whether or not they wanted to wait up here for the uber or wait down on the street when a knock barely made noise about Tito's playlist. Mat thought he had heard something but wasn't sure if he had confused it with the bass or not. So, he brushed it off. It wasn't until a small break in the song when the two of them could hear three rapid knocks, followed by the sound of your voice coming from the other side of the door, did they know that you were there.

Mat was closest to the door, so he was the one who walked over and looked through the peephole. He knew it was you just based on the sound of your voice from when you knocked, but, it didn't hurt to be safe and check to see who was at the door– that way Tito couldn't blame him if he let a random into his apartment. He recognized the hoodie you were wearing, it was the Beauvillier Islanders hoodie that Tito had gotten you for your birthday just this past summer. Mat told him it was a stupid gift, but Tito laughed, saying that it was his way of tricking you into finally wearing something in support of him since you had stopped wearing Islanders gear the moment you started dating Jeremy last fall. A Rangers player you had met on a girls' night out in the city. "A mix of interests" as your excuse, and Tito was bothered that his sister wouldn't wear his team's logo anymore– but instead, the logo on their top rival.

It was a mess, but one that Mat never, ever wanted to get involved with.

But there you were, dripping wet from the thunderstorm that had been hovering over the city from the moment he walked into Barclay to play. You had the hood on your head and you were avoiding eye-contact with the door– but he knew it was you. So, he opened the door with no hesitations, barely getting out a simple hi before you brushed by him and darted down the hallway, a door slamming behind you.

Tito, in true fashion, paused his music and stomped after you, mumbling about how you were just going to stroll into his apartment, that he pays for, and slam his doors without even saying hello. Mat remembered laughing, just because the Beauvillier sibling dynamic was an interesting one. He came back a few moments later, shoving his phone into his pocket and walked over to Mat. He said that he couldn't get much out of you but the fact that you and Jeremy had broken up and he needed to pay the cab driver downstairs $40 for driving you from Manhattan.

Tito was a good brother. He could be a huge pain in the ass, sure. You and he had had more than your fair shares of endless, rigorous chirping fights that most of the time, left Mat standing there just looking between the two of you like he was watching a match. But still to this day, Mat could never understand why Tito didn't seem all that bothered about how abruptly you had walked into his apartment. Tito had you and Francis, and more often than not, always brushed you off as one of the guys thanks to your tomboy upbringing. Mat had a sister and she's dated one too many assholes for his liking, so he could spot it from a mile away.

Your face was swollen and red and he was more than positive that you had cried the entire car ride there.

And you've been living at Tito's ever since.

"I'm serious, I need her to leave," Tito was following behind him as they left the locker room to head out to the rink. "And I can't just kick her out."

"You literally just talked about shoving her into the Hudson," Jordan laughed, shaking his head. "I think you can do something as simple as, 'hey, maybe you should find someone to stay with for a while.'"

Tito just rolled his eyes as he stepped out onto the ice, skating beside Matt. "I'm serious Barzy, I think she's driving me insane."

"It was one incident, Tito," Mat said, shaking his head. "Y/N isn't that bad."

"It wasn't just one incident," they cut the corner, Mat pushing himself ahead. "She almost burnt down my kitchen trying to make breakup cupcakes. She's redecorated my bathroom with bath bombs and make-up, she even got rid of my Shrek shower curtain!"

"To be fair, that's your guest bathroom and that Shrek shower curtain was hideous"

"Regardless! She's slowly taking over my entire apartment and turning it into her...her...her stupid lovesick breakup reno project!" He tossed his arms up in the air, letting them fall back down and almost hitting Brass in the head. "Oops, sorry bud!"

Mat laughed as they cut another corner, shaking his head. "Have you ever tried talking to her?"

"No, because then she'd get her puppy eyes all going and I'd feel like even more of a douche for wanting her out." He huffed, shaking his head. "I need an excuse, something to just...get her out for a few weeks until I can find her someplace to stay for the rest of the year. Then plead with her housing office to find her a dorm."

"I don't know what to tell you, man." Mat said, skating ahead.

"I'll come up with something, I'm sure I can cash in a favor somewhere." Tito sighed, as the two of them joined the rest of their team at center ice for stretching.

Mat just laughed, shaking his head at his best friend. Sure, if he was in the same position, it wouldn't exactly be his ideal living situation to have his sister living across the hall– but he definitely wouldn't be as against it. At least, he didn't think so.

~

"I've figured it out."

Mat felt his foot slip against the wet tile and his heart practically jumped out of his chest as the slipping feeling. He held his right arm out, holding himself steady against the tile before ducking his head beneath the shower head, letting the conditioner rinse from his hair. He looked over his shoulder to see Tito standing at the opening of the shower area, freshly showered with a towel wrapped around his waist. "Yeah, can we not talk about this right now?"

"I'm just letting you know, I figured it out." Tito smiled, nodding before walking away from the shower.

Mat shook his head, spitting out some water before turning off the water and grabbing the towel he had hung up just to the right. He wrapped it around his waist, shaking his head as he ran his fingers through his hair to get all of the excess water out. He almost dreaded making his way back towards the locker room. Tito had been pestering him all practice, trying to make him come up with ways he could kick you out.

Fake an insect infestation? No, then he'd have to leave his apartment too.

Figure out a way to get some flooding in her room? But then he'd have to hire someone to clean up all of the water.

Every outrageous idea possible had crossed his mind and Mat had to listen to it for the entire practice. As if the practice itself hadn't been draining on him, listening to him go on and on was even more.  But, he was playing the best friend role, and did say he would help him on one condition– it didn't involve hurting your feelings.

"Great, you're here, now listen–"

"No to the insects. No to an animal break-in and we already decided that pouring water on her stuff and saying a pipe was leaking wouldn't work," Mat said, sitting down in his locker and looking at Tito. "What in the hell could you have come up with now?"

"Remember how I said I could cash in a favor?"

Mat nodded, standing up and grabbing his street clothes as he turned his back to Tito. "Yeah, did you figure it out?"

"I sure did."

Mat stepped into his boxer briefs and dropped the towel as he picked up his joggers. "All right? And who's the poor sucker?" Tito hadn't replied as fast as he had been and Mat would be lying if he said it wasn't a little concerning. He tugged the waistband of his joggers up before turning to see Tito smiling at him. "What are you looking at?"

"I'm looking at the poor sucker who owes me a favor." He had his classic shit-eating smirk on his face, the kind cameras always zoomed in the moment he checked someone hard.

Mat blinked once, twice, three times before the reality set in. His brain was racing through every recent time he spent with Tito, never once remembering an event where he said that he owed him a favor. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You owe me a–"

"Yeah, yeah, I know what you said," Mat put his arms through his sweatshirt, tugging his down and over his head before running his fingers through his hair again. "But I don't know what you're talking about. When did I ever owe you a favor?"

"When I saved your ass that night at Nest when you were picking up the redhead but that hot tinder girl with blue hair you invited showed up." Tito stood up and walked over to Mat, still smiling. "I performed the perfect, switcharoo maneuver so that the redhead never noticed you took tinder girl home."

"You took the redhead home! How is that helping me?" Mat turned towards his locker and grabbed his phone and Gatorade, shaking his head. "Besides, that was two years ago."

"It was a win for both of us! You didn't get totally bitchslapped in the club and I got laid," Tito followed behind him, staying on his heels. "It may have been two years ago, but you still said, 'Tito, man...I owe you one.'"

"I don't–"

Tito cut him off, standing in front of him as they stood in the hall. He crossed his arms, his smile falling from his face. "And now I'm cashing it in. You're helping me get Y/N out of my apartment."

Mat rolled his eyes, resting his hands on his hips. "And how exactly am I supposed to help you with that? You've literally exhausted every plausible option." When Tito didn't come up with a reply, Mat just shook his head and brushed by him.

"I've got an idea bro, I swear," He jogged up behind him as they walked out of the arena to head towards the parking lot. "But, you're probably not going to like it."

As the crisp fall air greeted them, Mat could hear the voice in the back of his head telling him not to entertain Tito. A gut feeling deep inside that this wasn't going to work out– none of Tito's ideas ever worked out. "What is it?"

Tito hesitated, unsure just how his best friend would reply. Sure, he's had plenty of other crazy ideas before– but this one might just be way out there. But he didn't care, he was a young, physical and thriving man in his early 20's– and at this point, he didn't care about logical reasoning. He just desperately needed to get laid. And if that meant brushing his sister off onto his best friend, he'd do it.

"You're going to pretend you're utterly heartbroken from some break up and can't be alone–"

Mat stopped in his tracks, whipping around to Tito with wide eyes. "Dude what the–"

"Y/N is a total empath and when I tell her all about your emotional turmoil and that I don't know how to help, she'll no doubt step in. Then I'll just figure something out to keep her out of my apartment and boom, problem solved."

"Problem not solved!" Mat yelled, waving his hand at Tito. "Your problem literally has about a million plot holes in it!"

Tito closed his eyes and took a deep breath, sighing before opening them and looking at Mat. "I'm going to need you to hear me out before you say no– which, may I remind you, isn't an option anyway."

Mat took a deep breath and sighed, knowing damn well that somewhere down the line, he'd regret this very moment he even gave Tito the chance to explain. Even his initial explanation seemed so fucking stupid that there was no way it could ever work out. But maybe, if he allowed him to explain, he'd realize just how unrealistic his plan was, and just drop the entire idea then man up and tell Y/N to stay with a friend. "Fine," he stopped at his car, unlocking it so Tito could get into the passenger seat. "But you're buying lunch."

~

This was such a bad idea– he knew it would be. From the moment the suggestion left Tito's mouth the first time, Mat knew it wouldn't work. There's no way it could. Hell, even Liana said it was when he called her for advice after his lunch. And as far as common sense goes, he likes to think that Liana has a lot more

Tito's plan stayed the same– Mat was supposed to play brokenhearted and after lunch, the two of them would go over to his apartment, where you would be home from class. Tito would comment on how Mat 'hasn't been the same' and make a joke about how the two of you should just live together in your misery. You, the empath that you were, would take an interest in Mat's "broken heart" and offer to help in any way. Tito, knowing Mat was actually in the middle of turning the third guest bedroom in his apartment into a man-cave/gaming room and how much you love decorating, I.E. his bathroom, would suggest that maybe you could help him with that too.

It wouldn't work, Mat was convinced of that from the moment the entire idea left Tito's mouth. He'd known you almost as long as he knew Tito, meeting you the summer after the 2015 IIHF World U18 Championship. You were only a year younger than them both and for the three weeks that Mat had stayed with your family, he felt like he got to know you pretty well. You guys weren't best friends by any means, but you were definitely good friends. Your friendship growing when you decided to transfer to Fordham and when you weren't hanging out with Jeremy or your classmates, you were with Tito, Mat, and their teammates.

Needless to say, he was confident walking into the apartment knowing that there was no way that you would fall for this horrible excuse. You wouldn't leave your room in Tito's apartment to come and stay with Mat because he was "too brokenhearted to function." But leave it to Tito to think that you would fall for it. He tried not to break character, he really did. But how the hell was he supposed to pretend to be brokenhearted from a failed relationship, when he's never felt that?

He's had relationships before, sure. Break-ups? Absolutely. But none so bad that he felt like he wanted to drink himself into a slumber or just hide under the covers for the rest of time. He had outlets to get out any negative emotion. He had hockey and he had the boxing classes he attended with Tito every now and again. Besides that, he never had strong feelings for someone to the point where he was feeling what you were feeling.

As predicted, you had agreed to go with Tito and Mat over to Mat's apartment to see just what he had to deal with. He felt a twinge of guilt when you started to ask the simple questions:

How are you feeling?

Do you want to talk about it?

What happened?

He and Tito hadn't gotten that far in the plan– creating a backstory, which should have been another sign that this was never going to end well. So, on the ride to his apartment, he just stuck with short answered replies– "fine" "not yet" "it's still too soon." And he wanted nothing more than to smack Tito in the passenger seat, who was trying his damndest not to laugh.

When they got to the apartment hours later, Mat led you to the third guest room, showing you just everything he had. In a corner on tarps, he had three cans of paint, all unopened and a bunch of painting supplies. In the middle of the room, boxed furniture he'd been too lazy to move. He was barely focused on what you were saying when he felt his phone vibrate and saw Tito nodding at him.

Tito: see? i told u. total diy/renovator. you could get free labor out of this.

Mat: one problem there, bud. she doesn't seem too keen to get out of your apartment. all she's done is offer to take me to lunch for the next week to 'talk about my feelings'

Tito: okay? go talk about your feelings.

Mat: I DON'T HAVE ANY FEELINGS

Mat: I DON'T HAVE A RECENT EX-GIRLFRIEND

"Are you two okay?" You asked, almost scaring the two boys. Mat shoved his phone back into his jacket pocket, staring at you with wide eyes. You had an eyebrow raised and looked awfully suspicious of them both.

"Do you guys want dinner?" Tito asked, already heading towards the door. "I can order some pizzas from down the street."

"That's okay," You said, following him towards the door. "I've got this new enchilada recipe I wanted to try and–"

"No!" Tito couldn't be any less obvious that he didn't want you to follow him, his raised voice causing you to step back and look at him in shock. "I uh, I mean...I already ordered them. Barzy and I talked about it...right?"

Mat glared at Tito, wishing deep down that this plan would fail, but knowing that he couldn't leave his best friend out to dry. "Yeah...we did." He turned to you, crossing his arms. "Hope that's okay."

"No, it's fine," you replied, nodding. "Pizza is good."

Tito clapped his hands together and smiled. "Great, I'll be right back!"

He couldn't have run out of the apartment any faster, leaving you and Mat there standing in the middle of the room. This wasn't part of the plan and Mat was pissed. He stared at the door, contemplating telling you about your brother's ulterior motive to all of this– but it wouldn't hurt Tito...it would hurt you. So he decided against it and turned to you, sighing. "We can go wait in the living room for him to come back."

You nodded and followed him out of the guest room, walking down the hallway. "Can I have something to drink?"

"Water? Wine?" He asked, waving you over to the couch as he stopped in the kitchen. "Tequila?" God, how he wanted a drink. At least it might alleviate the headache Tito's antics were causing.

"It's Monday," you laughed, leaning against the back of the couch. "I guess I could go for some wine."

"White or Red?"

"You have both?"

He laughed, turning around and placing two unopened bottles– one of each. "My mom likes red, I like white. It's her leftover bottle from when she was here a two weeks ago."

"I'll take a glass of white, thank you."

He nodded, putting the bottle of red back into the fridge before moving towards his cabinets and opening the drinking glasses– reaching up to the top and grabbing two wine glasses. When he turned back around, he looked over at you, ready to say something, but he stopped.

You were still leaning against the back of his couch, left arm draped across your stomach as the other held onto your phone. You were chewing on the inside of your cheek, your eyes glued to the screen. He normally wouldn't think anything of it, except for the look on your face. Even from where he was standing, he could notice the frown and the way that your eyebrows were burrowed towards each other. He noticed your fingers on your left hand were fidgeting, plucking at your Fordham long sleeve. Everything about you standing there was just...small, quiet– radiating energy that said, 'I don't want anyone to see me.' Which, in all of the years that he knew you, was the complete opposite of who you were.

He couldn't help but wonder what the hell Jeremy did to screw you up this bad.

He poured your glasses, putting the cork back into the bottle, and made his way to you. You were so lost in your phone, that it wasn't until he cleared his throat, that you realized he was standing there.

"Oh," you stood up a little straighter, putting your phone into your front pocket before taking the wine glass from him. "Sorry, I was just..."

"No need," he said, waving you off. "I don't need an explanation." He walked around the couch and sat down, nodding at you to join him.

You sighed, taking a sip of your wine before sitting down beside him, sinking back against the cushion. "So, Tito hasn't tried taking you to a strip club to help you out of your breakup funk?"

Mat laughed, his head leaning back against the cushion. "No, he hasn't," he took a sip of the wine, tilting his head to the side. "I don't think he'd leave if he did."

"He tried to offer to drop me off at that knockoff Magic Mike, two days ago." He looked at you like you had two heads, his mind spinning in circles at just how long Tito has been trying to get you out of his apartment. "It didn't work, it's not my scene."

"Male strippers?"

"Male strippers that aren't the cast of Magic Mike," you joked, laughing softly as you stared down into your wine. "I don't know, I just haven't really been in the mood to do anything besides go to class and sleep."

He wasn't sure how to reply. Even with Liana, he'd never really been that open with talking to her about his relationships or hers. That was a no-touch topic in their siblingship– only ever talking about it, just to say that they were seeing someone new. Never what happened during or after. Not to mention, he was supposed to be like you, heartbroken. He tried to copy your mannerisms– slumped into the couch, relaxed face– he even went as far as to try and tell himself to copy the tone in your voice.

But all he felt was guilt for playing into Tito's scheme and a genuine need to talk to you about what happened. He just didn't know how to go about it.

Your phone rang before he could ask you the dreaded 'how are you feeling' question, and you sighed, digging your phone out of your pocket and putting your wine glass down on the table. "What, Anthony?"

Mat held back his laughter as he took a sip of his wine. One thing was for sure, your attitude towards your brother hadn't changed from pre-breakup. He looked at you, your eyebrows knitted together as you brought your hand up to your forehead, rubbing it. "What do you mean? Is my stuff–" you sighed, closing your eyes. "No, you won't get electrocuted if you–"

He reached out, bumping his elbow against yours and raising an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

You looked at him, shaking your head as you pulled your phone away from your ear. "He forgot his wallet at home and went back to the apartment– I guess something leaked and my bathroom and room are flooded."

Mat had to act like he was surprised, but if anything he was pissed. This was the one scenario that they didn't agree on– simply because it wasn't fucking plausible. "Well have you talked to him? Maybe there's–"

Your head fell back against the cushion and you closed your eyes, sighing. "I didn't leave a faucet on, I didn't even go into my bathroom before we– can you stop interrupting me?"

He could hear Tito rambling on through the other side of the phone, no doubt barely giving you time to talk because he didn't want you to fill in the gaps of his fake story. "Well, where am I supposed to go?"

Mat chewed on his bottom lip, bringing the glass up to his lips as he knew this was when Tito was suggesting that you stay with him. He couldn't look at you because the guilt was taking over. He could tell you were stressed and obviously, Tito hadn't been exaggerating at just how bad you were after the breakup with Jeremy. And if he looked at you any longer, the guilt would swallow him up and he'd cave in and tell you everything.

"No, I'm not asking–" you sighed, taking a few deep breaths and exhaling before speaking again. "Because Anthony, it's rude! "

Mat felt like reaching over and grabbing your phone, ending the plan then and there. But again, he knew that the Beauvillier sibling dynamic was a lot different than any other one. Tito knew when to stop pushing, you were his sister after all. So, he sat next to you, sipping on his wine and waited for you to ask the question they'd been pushing you to do all along.

"Can you just...ask, please?" His eyes went wide the moment he heard the emotion in your whispered reply. "I can't just...move everything, I don't even have everything. It's all at Jer–" you stopped yourself, sitting up and hunching over, resting your head in your free hand. "And he said that's all that was available?"

He kept sneaking looks at you from the corner of his eye, trying to gauge whether or not the emotion in your voice was leading to tears. He brought his phone out of his jacket, opening to type a message to Tito.

"Fine, I'll...I'll just ask," he froze as you turned to him, holding your phone away from your ear. "Hey Mat?"

He placed his phone face down and away from your sight of vision you couldn't see that he was about to send a text to Tito. "Yeah?" Yikes, that wasn't casual enough. "What's up?" Better.

You were holding back tears and for the first time, he could see the dark circles beneath your eyes, still peaking out from whatever make-up you had put on that morning. Yeah, this plan wasn't good– this on was definitely a punch in the gut. "Do you think I could stay here? I don't have much and I–"

"Yeah, no," he cleared his throat. "No, I mean yeah...you can. I've got the guest bedroom."

You nodded, looking away from him and brought the phone back up to your ear. "There, happy?"

Oh, you have no idea how happy Tito was, was all that Mat could think as he brought his phone back out. "Can I at least come and get some stuff to– Yeah...okay. Yeah, see you."

You hung up the phone and your head fell back against the cushion, eyes closed. Mat looked at you, wondering whether or not he should dare to see if you were okay. He started to reach a hand out to nudge your arm when his phone vibrated.

Tito: IT WORKED! I'M FREE!

Tito: well...at least for the next week i am. i’ll need to figure out another excuse for the extra week i guess.

Mat: dude...i don't think this is a good idea. y/n's like...really emotional right now.

Tito: AND I'M GOING ON A TWO WEEK DRYSPELL.

Mat: okay, get laid tonight and let her come back.

Tito: nope. i'm using all seven days of this time and look on the bright side, now you'll get the guestroom done faster than you planned.

Mat: are you at least coming back with the pizza?

Tito: no, just her clothes. caroline is coming over in an hour.

He laughed in disbelief, shaking his head as he looked at you– still lying in the same position from when you hung up the phone.

Mat: dude, you so owe me one.

Tito: 👍🏻

Mat put his phone back into his jacket pocket and turned to you. He was sure that the movement on the couch would have been enough to get you to open your eyes– but you didn't budge. He reached out and nudged your arm and you opened your eyes and turned to look at him. "What do you think about Chinese?"

"Let me guess, he's not getting the pizza?" You asked, drained of any energy.

Mat bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head. "No, he said they were packed," the lie was a lot better than telling her the truth. "If you're not feeling Chinese, we can go to Chipotle?"

"I don't know," you sighed, picking up the wine glass and taking a long sip. "Do you think we'd miss him?"

Not in a million years. Even if they did, he'd just drop the bag of belongings in front of Mat's door, no doubt.

"I'll buy you a large guac and a large queso," He smiled, shrugging his shoulders. "Free of charge."

"You had me at large guac." You looked at him and then back at your wine glass, downing the rest before placing it back onto the table and turning towards Mat. "Besides, he's the one who didn't bother to offer me the couch in the new 1 bedroom he'd be staying in until everything is fixed. He can wait a few extra minutes if we're not back in time."

Mat just nodded, standing up with you and playing into your mood. "Yeah, fuck that guy."

You laughed, and for the first time since he walked into yours and Tito’s apartment...he saw you smile. He felt proud of himself for being able to cheer you up in some way. And maybe, he thought, if Tito wasn't going to look out for you...he could.

It was only for seven days, how bad could it be?

[2p-stuff-because-i-miss-them]

Heyyy on that nail tech s/o ask i notice u put matts lowkey nosy👀. Can we get some Hcs for matt and his s/o being lowkey nosy together?😜 (i stg gossiping with you own fam member and BF is a WHOLE NEW LEVEL of gossip)

I love you guys for noticing the random shit I say and asking me to write more about it, you guys are so cool, nosy ass matthew coming up babe

Mattie is subtle nosy guy

He wants you to believe that he isn’t listening and doesn’t wanna know, but he really does and its not subtle baby-

He’ll just hear some phone conversation with his s/o involved, and he thinks he’s slick so he’ll slide next to them and go “so what happened” which translates to “some tea sounds nice”

You give him an inch he’ll take a fuckin football field

Somehow, in a matter of 20 minutes, he knows his s/o’s entire family names, what hobbies their parents have, their siblings favorite stores, all of the family reunion drama-

he’ll legit listen to his s/o ramble about this for however long for his own personal knowledge omfg

and he isn’t super silent, he’ll engage and prompt them to speak more like: “what?”, “he sounds like a dumbass” “thats fucking stupid”, ‘what’d she say after that?”, “wait so they did what?”, “no way, so she....and then he...wow”

Like B

if you don’t take your nose-

Mattie and his s/o are the best underground tea providers. Yall two know shit that no one understands why you know-

Flavio is low-key paranoid around yt

Nosy Matt headcanons everyone

[fencesandfrogs]

17qs, 17 people

thank u @babymedicc for tagging me!

nickname: ik my url says mattie but most people call me matthew or mateo. spanish speaking family.

zodiac: aquarius sun, aries moon, pisces rising

height: ur the internet not my real life so i can tell you it’s actually 5′6.5″ but i usually round up to 5′7″

hogwarts house: hufflepuff.

last thing i googled: “pieceis” because i can’t spell pisces lmao. (& then before that “pieces” god my spelling is really trash) but before that “senna league” because senna from league of legends has some damn fine art

song stuck in my head: rn it’s weirdly quiet & i’m not going to jinx it by thinking of a song in particular but i have been listening to a lot of taylor swift

number of followers: 57. i started posting again barely a month ago and i’m up almost 40 followers so i’m kinda surprised but happy! ty guys for apparently liking my inane ramblings enough to follow <3

amount of sleep: rn 4.5 hrs but usually closer to 7. i slept for like 14 hours a few days ago. it’s a wreck.

lucky number: 4. it’s a square. it’s just nice.

dream job: math professor but like, w/ tenure & in such a way i can lead an eccentric & confusing life

wearing: in truth pyjamas because of when i’m writing this but usually jeans tee shirts & beanies. i’m very hard into an aesthetic.

favorite song: uhhhhhh don’t @ me but do you remem8er me from homestuck’s “[S] >Remem8er” because that’s some good art & music & generally compelling & i can’t even recommend listening to it because i like it because of how the music fits with the emotional beats of the art but they fit so well the music alone makes me cry to this day

favorite instrument: piano! i’m not great but i’m decent. not embarrassed to play in front of people if i know what i’m playing.

aesthetic: blog - uhh purple. this is my least Refined space in that sense. fashion - kinda hipster-y? & recently very americana as i inherited some high quality clothing room/general life - i try for minimalist but it does not work the way i want it to. i have both fairy lights & led strip lights so that says something.

favorite author: hmmm this is hard but i’d say catherine m valente. all of her work is good, but space opera’s intended audience is young adults (in the actual, 17-25ish, sense of the words, not the meaning of the phrase) so that would be my recommended starting point.

favorite animal noise: when cats go “BRRP” at you. this is not the sound but it’s a pretty cat so i’m linking it anyway. this is closer, but i used to have a cat who did it with a more solid consonant at the beginning & spontaneously and it was the best thing.

random: oh fuck my entire life is an ecclectic mess depending on which section of the blog you’re in you could have a very different experience (i’m aware you’re prob reading this on the dashboard but it’s for the Emotion) of me but uhhhh i don’t believe birthday celebrations are fundamentally for the person with the birthday because when you try not to have one because that’s what you want people don’t let you and so it can’t be for you because it doesn’t matter what you want.

tagging: @eya-trying-to-function, @yusukesmomjeans, @legowerewolf, @mixedsensations , @quincunx , n anyone else who wants! if u tag me i will check it out. i’m new so i don’t have many mutuals yet but, like, i like making friends? god i’m such a nerd anyway okay bye 

[bagelbright-tok]

Random Writing

I suppose one would refer to this kind of writing as, “drabble.” I would rather call it a, “ramble,” as I wasn’t necessarily going for anything. More of when you ramble about something to someone and they have no idea what you’re talking about.

Word Count: 920+ Definitely one of my shorter writes. Especially when I cut it down for size and word count. Warning(s)(?): -Description of blood, death, and a dead body. -Mentions of sadness and depression. Slight Swearing. This is what I named it when I started writing it on my phone (I think). I did not go back to fix mistakes.

Italicized is “Matt”’s actions/speech. Bold is a past memory. ____

An Intangible Memory.

He'd been walking for some time now. The halls were empty and dark. He wasn't scared. The area was unknown to him. He was not scared. He listened for her. Her calling. “Hey! Matthew!” There it was again. It sounded just right in front of him. But alas, his ears deceived him. There was nothing in front of him. But her voice was coming from it. “C'mon, Matt!” She called out again. He was coming. She was annoying and too emotional for his liking. But he'd be there for her. That's what he promised when they met. “I'll always be there. One call. I'm there.”

It was a friendly promise. One that wouldn't be taken seriously, especially coming from him. But it was serious. Whenever she called, whether she realized it or not, he would come to her. Even if he knew he'd regret it. Even if he knew it was for something dumb.

“Oi! Matt! Look! Those two birds are definitely fucking.”

Sigh

He chuckled. Did he regret not laughing that time? There were bizarre things that she spotted. But there were the good bizarre things. A hummingbird taking nectar from a beautiful flower. Beetles building a home for themselves. Squirrels making decoy acorn holes to trick other squirrels. Small things no one would ever pay mind to. Except for her of course. That's what interested him about her. Her keen eye for nature and what it had to bring in life. Sometimes he would sit with her and just watch the trees move with the subtle breeze. It was boring to others. It was fascinating to her. It was calming to him.

“Whoa! Matti! Come here already, you're gonna miss it!”

He was getting closer. He could tell. Her volume remained the same. Yet her presence was obvious. Her aura could be described as sweet as a cherry. Even as bright as one.

He stopped. She was right there. Only a metre away. “What did you want to show me?”

He asked her, resulting in her grinning happily. Instead of pointing out any nature she wanted him to see, she ran to him. This was so familiar. She was running to him to hug him. He opened his arms this time. He accepted her hug. He wanted to, at least.

The moment the impact was to set, nothing happened. He felt her phase right through him. It caused him to stumble a step back. It left a nauseating feeling. He turned around to see where she went. All he could see was what remained.

The smoke of her soul leaving. It drifted upward into the nothing of the ceiling. He could only watch. He couldn't reach her anymore. Had he broken his promise? He was to always be there when she needed him. Yet, he wasn't there when she was murdered. 

Her dull bubble gum and purple hair was stained with her own blood. Her once white button down shirt with cherry red buttons was now dyed a blood red and a disgusting dried brown. Her light skin could barely be seen. Whatever was left of her skin, it was drenched in blood. Her lavender eyes were dulled into a faint pink. What hurt more was the fact she was motionless, cold, and lifeless. The spark in her eyes had been killed by the merciless waves of the sea.

It was so much colder without the fire to keep him warm.

Her smile was wiped, her energy was taken, his heart was shattered. It left a stabbing pain in his chest. One that made him want to vomit. It made a frog creep into his throat. With the frog, came the creek. The creek wanted to escape his eyes and travel his face to the floor or onto his sleeve. These mixture of emotions pushed him. One pushed him left, the one on the left pushed him right, the one on the right pushed him right again. 

He felt like a kindergartner getting bullied by the older kids. Like a beach ball being passed back and force. He couldn't stop the forces and he couldn't stop himself from moving. The pain with each push made him weaker.

His eyes were filled with sorrow and regret. It was stupid. They all knew this would be dangerous. Why didn't she leave? Why didn't he stop her from trying to continue? Why was she stubborn? Why? Why do I have to feel this way?

He had asked her to stop. He didn't want to admit it but he didn't want to see her get hurt. He asked her to go back home. He and the others could handle it from here. She laughed in his face and walked through him. She had a drive to continue. They all did. 

Maybe that's what impressed him too. Her stubbornness to give up. The spite that kept her going. Her drive. It was one that challenged everyone else. She had the most reason to be there. The most reason to help. That's why he hadn't stopped her. That's why she continued. That's why he felt this way. He was confident in her as she was confident in him. Only one was placed well. He ended up winning.

He won. Right? He had won, but lost so much more. He lost her. The pain was more prominent than the victory and relief. He didn't win. He lost. In this story, no one truly won. A win was everyone celebrating a victory. This, a lonesome victor, was not a win.

[therubberotter]

My summer course students are the cutest gremlins ever.

Yes, they’re a bunch of confused teenagers, loud and akward (and so am I!!!). But the things they do really warm my heart. Some of those little golden moments:

- They squeal when I bring my Sylvanians to class and make up cute little scenes with them (like really… they set up a classroom so they could learn, too 🥹).

-One of my girls is obsessed with writing the weirdest scary stories that end in the dumbest way possible (endearing). She also loves cats and 60% of her writings feature them in one way or another (the zombie-fighting kitty will always hold a special place in my heart).

-That same girl and her bestie drew the sweetest handmade birthday card for me, and alongside their sisters sang happy birthday to me as soon as they arrived on that day.

-Another one is just your typical scene teenager, but in the best way possible!! You go girl!! You rock!!! Never stop being awesome and making me feel like the 2000s weren’t really gone.

-I’ve got this older guy who is very shy and doesn’t talk much in class, but always draws little emojis with his comments on his writings ;_;

-snorts, chortles, chuckles… so many of them…

-Also, the usually quiet girl that never shuts up when it comes to talking about her pet hamsters.

-Whenever they cheer and fist bump when I confirm to them that I’ll be their teacher next year.

-Last but not least, I told them I was going on a trip this weekend to attend a wedding… one the boys, the military-wannabe, wrote on his homework: “Hope you have a great time at the wedding “ I melted and drew him a thank you picture next to his note.

So yes, they might be gremlins, but they are MY gremlins. I love them and I will always cheer them on :,)

[therubberotter]

Had to go to a checkup with my GI. He says I need to wait some more months until we can be sure the methotrexate is not working properly and he can change me to a different drug...oh well, I'm already used to being nauseous all the time anyway 🙃

I went for breakfast at my old faculty after that...it made me unbelievably happy. That place brings me peace.

They were holding a congress about high capacities and education. Wish I could have been there! From on now, I will keep an eye out for more events like this. I told my boss afterwards and she told me that next time, she will give me some time off so I can attend. I'm so lucky I have a boss that thinks my education is so important!

[therubberotter]

My aesthetic is to start a goodreads reading challenge, complete it in real life but never update it in the app, and start all over the following year.

[therubberotter]

Let's play a game! Did I get the rotavirus that's been doing the rounds lately, or is it my Crohn's flaring? Or maybe it was the virus that has caused a flare up... Fun Crohn's times! 🙃

Btw, shouldn't have had that bite of a muffin...now I feel full and bloated...again...

[therubberotter]

Not me, feeling nauseous after having eaten all week like the goblin that I am (ate meat ONCE and had one (1) slice of cake).

...

Crohn's sucks :')

[therubberotter]

As I was leaving the Chemist's where I teach English, we heard the girls that were working their shift make quite a commotion... turns out a pigeon had entered the shop and was hiding behind one of the counters!!!

It was not a wild one, it was a tame sweet thing. All white. Poor birb seemed to be very tired (it has been very windy and rainy today!

They were too scared to go near it, but I put her inside a cardboard box, tucked it neatly inside, and closed the lid so it wouldn't escape.

The initial plan was to take it to the animal shelter, but they wouldn't hear any of it 😒💨 in the end, everything was fine because they knew a man who really likes birds, and he took it in.

And this is the story of how we saved a pigeon's life 😂

[therubberotter]

It is super late for this, but I wanted to show off the cool presents that I got for Christmas and three kings.

As I've said before, we don't do Christmas at home, and do it the Spanish way and celebrate three kings instead. However, my boss is English, so she gave me presents for Christmas as well 🥰 (1st picture).

Then, from my mum, dad and bf I got the rest of my awesome presents!!! (I've been sooooo spoiled!!!).

Mum gave me lots of artsy stuff she made herself (2nd picture), and then the rest are from the bf and dad. Shout-out to the MasterChef book, the Narnia book (🦁 ❤️), my new smartwatch, fantastic beasts tamagotchi (that's a friend's present) and kite!! Pancake plushie was my half of a present I got for the BF.

Oh! And I got a promise ring on New Year's 🤭✨

[therubberotter]

My Crohn's is flaring. My tummy hurts, but I'm hungry...oh, the wonders of this 😐

[therubberotter]

Our teacher gave us an assignment on the debate about homework/no homework, and he said that there is a correct answer, one that the public examiners will like, but refuses to tell us. He wants us to think...Dammit, J.!!! >:( We even tried to get some clues asking him whether he gave homework to his students or not xD

Buuuuut! I think I have a good answer...now I feel as if I had cracked a secret code only public school teachers now or something xD