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comphy-and-cozy · 10 months ago

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love it if we made it - mat barzal

Pairing: Mat Barzal x OC (f)

Summary: Aurora Foster and Mat Barzal are friends. Sometimes with benefits, sometimes with unspoken feelings, but always with a little something extra. When they have the opportunity to close the cross-country gap between them, will they be able to overcome the skinny love and take their relationship to the next level?

Word Count: 9.2K

Author's Note: My first ever Barzal fic written for @thewintersoldierdisaster for @wyattjohnston's Winter Fic Exchange! You are such a talented writer and I really wanted to make this a good one - I hope I managed to get the Garden City details covered correctly. 😉 It was a blast to write for someone new even though I am still reluctantly slowly joining the Barzy train. Enjoy, my dear! Thank you to @smileysvech, @pyotrkochetkov, @jostystyles, and @Demi for all of your help in brainstorming, editing, sending inspirational Barzy pics, and the usual general insanity. Couldn’t do it without y’all. Also, just for the record, Mat has hair in this entire fic. No bald Barzy allowed.

Warnings: Mutual pining, angst, alcohol use (characters get drunk), Mat being a bit of a fuckboy. Smut (18+ ONLY); unprotected sex, general sexual tension/sexual themes. Masterlist

July 2013 - Vancouver, British Columbia

The crackling of the fire melds with the gentle splash of waves on the shoreline, crickets chirping happily amid the cool summer breeze. Smoke billows up, wafting to a deep sky sparkling with stars, not a cloud in sight.

Aurora Foster watches the flames, absorbing the warmth on her legs. There’s a blue koozie on the armrest of her Adirondack chair, holding a Diet Coke. She allows herself to sink into the warm, worn cotton of her Burnaby Winter Club sweatshirt, sighing contentedly.

“Anyone want more pizza? I’ve gotta rock a piss.”

Rolling her eyes, Aurora scoffs as the rest of the group murmurs no’s. “Charming, Fabbs.”

The next voice that rings out is clear. “Anyone wanna go for a late night dip?”

“Yeah, I’ll go.” This time of night is Aurora’s favorite time for a swim, when the lake is all but glass and the water feels like a lukewarm bath; not warm, but certainly not cold after spending a day baking under a bright British Columbia sun.

There are no other takers, so she looks expectantly across the fire. His dark hair is shaggy, unkempt, air-dried after a day in the lake. His brown eyes lock with hers, and he jerks his head toward the dock with a grin. “Race you.”

Mat Barzal.

A name that holds the burden of promise. He’s going to be drafted in a few years, to the Show—and he’s going to be good. Not I’m just saying that because he’s my friend and I’m supposed to say that—no, he’s going to be good, potentially even great.

Here, though, he’s just Mat. He feels weird about the weight his name is starting to hold, not really knowing what to do with the slight level of fame. He’s made a vow to himself that whatever happens, he won’t let it get to him, won’t let it change the fabric of who he is—this guy, right here, feeling the warm breeze through his hair as sprints down the wooden dock, two smaller feet pattering rapidly behind him.

“You first,” he grins, gesturing toward the ladder.

“What if there’s a big monster waiting right there and it eats me?”

“I’ll jump in and save you,” he says, like there’s no hesitation. He glances down to double check that there is no actual sign of danger. Aurora doesn’t notice, her eyes also on the dark water, illuminated only slightly by the brightness of the moon.

“You promise?”

“I promise.” The way he says it is so sure that it actually comforts her for a split second, enough time for her confidence to reach the appropriate level to jump in with a splash.

Her body is immersed in cold for the briefest of seconds before she’s enveloped in warmth. The splash next to her tells her that Mat has joined her beneath the water. He rises to the surface a few moments later, letting out a scoff as he shakes out his hair.

“Shit. You like this?” he asks, swimming out toward the trampoline floating a few meters away.

“It’s nice!” she says, following him. “Refreshing.”

“It’s cold.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a big macho hockey player?”

He ignores her with a roll of his eyes, rising back out of the water to climb the ladder to the trampoline. Aurora opts to swim around a while longer, feeling the weight of the water gliding over her skin. It’s nice, heavenly even, how the water makes her weightless.

When she approaches the trampoline, the blast of cool air against her wet skin makes her shiver, goosebumps instantly covering her body. Mat glances at her, sees the way her arms have wrapped around herself in an attempt to warm herself. He extends an arm, his own skin almost dry. “C’mere.”

His arm curls around her frame, warmth of him already heating her skin. He’s not sure if it’s his heart or hers that he can feel beating—maybe it’s both, beating in a steady, sure rhythm next to one another.

Aurora’s toes nudge his, the gesture comfortable and affectionate; a silent thank you.

June 2018 – Vancouver, British Columbia

By all accounts, it’s a normal Thursday evening in June; Aurora’s housemates are getting ready to go out to the bar—there are plugged-in curling irons, loose cans of hairspray, scattered makeup brushes all over the counter alongside an assortment of cups in varying stages of empty. A half-full fifth of Smirnoff is there too, the cap misplaced somewhere.

On any other occasion, Aurora would be right there with them, blasting Taylor Swift and chattering about if Brad will finally make a move on Carley. Tonight, though, she’s opted out in favor of spending the night on the couch in her favorite sweatpants. Just not feeling a bar tonight, she’d said.

The silence when the door finally closes behind her friends is almost deafening; she hadn’t realized how loud it was in the chaos of the pre-night-out ritual. With a contented sigh, Aurora plops down on the couch and tugs a blanket over her legs, opening Netflix and starting an episode of New Girl.

She's part way through her second episode and her first glass of wine when she gets the text.

[Mat:] what’s the play tn

Mat. Of course. He’s home for the summer now, back after his first year in Long Island, and recently returned from winning the Calder trophy. Aurora still had a hard time connecting that this Mat, the one that she’s known since they were 12, the one who she grew up hearing make stupid dick jokes with his friends, is the same one that just won Rookie of the Year in the National Hockey League.

Instead of typing out a message, Aurora snaps a photo of the wine glass in her hand and blanket in her lap with the TV in the background. It doesn’t take long for the response bubble to pop back up, and soon enough the whoosh of an incoming text sounds.

[Mat:] want some company?

Aurora’s heart freezes in her chest. She hasn’t spent any time alone with him since that sorority formal her sophomore year, the one she bribed him to attend with her so she wasn’t the only girl without a date. It was platonic—that didn’t even need to be discussed—and it had been nice to have a familiar figure by her side; it didn’t hurt that he was starting to make a name for himself in the hockey world as a top draft pick headed for the NHL.

What started as a simple, friendly night ended with her leg wrapped around his waist, leaning against the bathroom door of the venue, moaning his name. She didn’t know how they ended up there, but what she did know was that it was passionate, mind-boggling, life-altering sex.

At least, to her it was. He’d never mentioned it since.

At first, it lingered on the tip of her tongue every time he was around, waiting to be blurted out when the sinking confusion became too much to bear. But one month, two months, three months passed, with no recognition or acknowledgement that anything happened between them.

For a while, she began to believe that she’d dreamt it; that her mind conjured the hottest, dizziest, most viscerally real dream possible. But then she’d see his eyes flick to hers during the sex scene in a movie and feel the spark of electricity when his hand would brush hers. Just briefly, but enough for her to confirm that no, she didn’t imagine it all.

Needless to say, Aurora can’t help the rising suspicion at the seemingly random text. Surely, he couldn’t be thinking about one night years ago when he had the pick of any girl he wanted at his fingertips.

Before she can stop herself, she's typing ‘bring chocolate’ and soon, she hears her front door open. There’s a shuffle, the sound of shoes being shrugged off, before that handsome face is rounding the corner. His eyes land on her in an instant, a predatory gaze simmering behind an unassuming smile. In his hand is a plastic bag from which he fishes out a pack of peanut M&M’s, tossing them at her.

Aurora squeals, eagerly tearing open the packet and immediately tossing three into her mouth. After an expectant eyebrow raise from him, she heaves herself off the couch with a dramatic sigh and runs the short distance to him before launching into his arms.

“Thank you, Matty,” she says, voice muffled by the black Acme sweatshirt he’s wearing. He’s warm. And big—bigger than he was before he left for New York. “And congratulations.”

He hums a response, following her as she resumes her spot, this time making room for him beside her. “You didn’t want to go out tonight? Celebrate that enormous trophy?”

Mat shrugs, placing her feet in his lap and securing the blanket over both. “Could take it or leave it. Can’t leave you to be home alone and bored.”

She rolls her eyes and nudges his leg with her foot. “Shut up. You didn’t have to come over.”

“Honestly, I need a break after that media circus,” he confesses. “So much press, so many questions, so many pictures. It’s exhausting.”

Aurora nods understandingly, though she can only imagine being put on public display the way he is day in and day out, the attention only heightened now that he’s won the Calder. She’s seen the pictures, the articles, all of the buzz, feeling a slight tinge of jealousy—not of him, but that she has to share him with the rest of the world now.

Mat settles in, and casual conversation filters in amidst the episode, pausing at moments to hear the dialogue before another one of them is adding commentary or snorting at someone’s Instagram story. It’s so casual, so normal, his place beside her on the couch; like finally finding that one pivotal puzzle piece she’s been looking for for hours. He’s calm, relaxed, and once again she begins to wonder if she’s been creating something out of nothing this entire time. If the flood of nerves in her chest is an overreaction.

“You still seeing that frat guy? Tim, or whatever his name is?”

The question comes out of nowhere. Aurora can’t help but wonder if she detects a hint of jealousy.

“Was never really seeing him,” she replies, leaving a heavy pause, enough time for him to fill in the blanks. It’s true, but maybe she chose her words intentionally, curious to see if that lilt in his tone really was jealousy.

He doesn’t react much outside of a nod and an over-engineered nice, but she sees the very slight tick in his jaw. She resists the urge to roll her eyes, instead supplying, “You really gonna give me shit, Mr. Hot-Shot-NHL rookie?”

“Listen,” he grins, “it’s not my fault there’s a million single girls in New York.”

This time, Aurora does roll her eyes, if only to hide the sting she feels deep in her chest. She wouldn’t say she has feelings for Mat Barzal, but—well, it’s complicated. It’s always been there, buried deep beneath the surface, veiled as fond affection for a friend who’s grown by her side since they were 12.

“But none of them are as pretty as you.”

Aurora has to laugh, can’t help but laugh, rather than feel the discomfort that sinks in when she processes what he said. He’s always like this—these seemingly harmless, flirty comments—but those are the ones that keep his hooks latched into her, keeping her coming back for more, dangling by a single thread of hope.

“Don’t be a dick.”

“M’not. You’re so pretty it hurts.”

She moves to kick him—playfully, mostly—but his hand catches her foot in an instant. Before she has a chance to protest, barely processing the evil grin that hatches on his face, he’s tickling her arch. Aurora shrieks, legs flailing in protest, doing her best to scramble out of his grasp. Mat’s laugh is mirthful as his strong arms easily overpower her, hands moving to her hips to pin her to the couch.

“You’re gonna—” he pauses to wrestle her down, “—hurt yourself.”

“Fuck off,” she shouts playfully, hands shoving wildly at his hands in a weak attempt to stop him from tickling at her sides. “I—I hate you!”

In a flash, Aurora finds her arms pinned above her head, large hands pressed into her wrists. She shrieks again, but the laughter dies in her throat when she realizes he’s paused, hovering over her. Her legs stop their thrashing, breath caught in her throat while her heart thumps in her chest. She isn’t sure how long they sit like that, frozen in time, staring at one another; she wonders if he’s thinking the same thing she is, flashing back to the night spent inside the dimly lit bar bathroom.

And then he’s kissing her, desperate, his open mouth pressed against hers. It consumes her, the feeling of his lips, in a way that makes her wonder how she’s survived the last two years without his touch. The thought of stopping is unthinkable, unfathomable, unbearable.

Mat’s hand slides down her arm to cup her jaw, thumb brushing against her cheekbone while his tongue finds hers. With her now free hand, Aurora instinctively moves to run her fingers through his hair, soft and smooth. It’s long, long enough that she can wrap the locks around her knuckles, offering a firm hold that has him exhaling lowly against her mouth.

With just the simplest, subtlest move, Aurora’s flipped the switch inside of Mat that transforms him from doting, passionate lover to desperate and unrestrained. His lips pivot to nip at the base of her jaw, offering a subtle bite on his way down to her neck.

She can hear his heavy breath, feels it hot against her skin. His palm draws warmth up her side, rucking up her t-shirt to expose her bare stomach before his hand dives beneath the hem of the cotton to press flat against her ribcage. It’s shameful how quickly Mat can render her little more than a lolling, whimpering mess, back arched eagerly to chase his touch; she wants to kick herself for giving in so easily.

His hands move in tandem with his mouth, caressing, kneading, aiding her slow descent into madness. When he tugs the cotton over her head, grateful there’s no bra impeding his view, Mat swoops down to her breasts like a starving man getting his first taste of food; with a groan, his tongue swipes over a pebbled nipple.

Aurora’s afraid to say his name, afraid that if she calls attention to the moment, he’ll snap out of it and stop.

And she can’t have that.

Hands roam, chased by hot breath and wet kisses, until she’s all but naked on her living room couch, as if she lives alone and doesn’t have roommates that could come home at any given moment.

He doesn’t even bother to take her panties off, instead ripping them to the side and wetting his tip with her slick, teasing her folds for just a moment.

Mat pauses at her entrance, breath heavy in his chest. His eyes trail up to hers, and Aurora’s heartbeat ticks, afraid he’s going to change his mind right now, when she needs him more than she’s ever needed anything in her life.

And then his eyes slink over her body with a smirk, admiring her breasts, her curves, the way her legs have wrapped around his hips—when did that happen? Mat’s dick twitches when he realizes he has nowhere to go but inside the dripping wet cunt in front of him, perfect and tempting and waiting to be filled up. He lets the low groan rumble in his chest while his lips return to the spot he sucked into her neck.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty like this,” he murmurs against her skin. “Always think of you like this.”

Mat waits for only a moment, so brief that it flits by almost unnoticed, before he’s pushing in with a low groan. Aurora gasps at the sensation, infinitely better than everything her imagination conjures when her fingers slip between her thighs at night. Nothing replicates the feeling of him buried to the hilt inside her wet heat.

“How long you been thinkin’ ‘bout this, sweetheart?” he rasps once he grows accustomed to the way she squeezes him. “Been thinkin’ ‘bout you for a long time.”

Aurora’s fingers settle into the dip of his shoulders, breasts pressed into his chest. She tries to answer, but all that comes out is a moan. How can he expect her to speak when his hips are punching into her like they’re getting paid for it?

He’s smug at the way he’s rendered her speechless, entranced by the way she feels. Sensing he might not make it long, Mat focuses on his rhythm, finding the one that has her nails scratching down his back so he’ll have a perfect reminder of her wrapped around his dick.

When her moans escalate, he brings a hand between their bodies, watching the way her eyes flutter shut when he rubs at her clit. “Bein’ so good and so pretty for me, ‘Ror. Wanna feel you squeezin’ me while you come.”

She likes when he talks, judging by the way her breath hitches and her cunt tightens, so he keeps talking, muttering pretty, filthy somethings in her ear while he circles her clit. Before long, his whispers are covered by the sound of her crying out his name—she sounds the same as she did two years ago, sweeter this time now that he knows what she feels like when she comes.

Later, when he slips out into the night, Aurora presses her fingers against the hickey on her neck, memorizing the feeling of his lips against her skin.

July 2019 - Vancouver, British Columbia

Aurora takes a seat in the chiavari chair beside Gina, offering Dante a wave. A string quartet plays softly, ushering in wedding guests taking their seats before the ceremony. She’s there more out of obligation to the Fabbros, the bride a cousin of theirs that she’d grown up with, too.

Mat sidles in far too close to the start of the ceremony, plopping himself into the seat next to Aurora. He bumps shoulders with her, offering a grin when she mouths “hi” as the precessional begins.

The ceremony is sweet, the food is excellent, and Aurora can’t help but tear up at the best man’s speech during dinner. Afterwards, everyone is on the dance floor, moving and grooving to a Bruno Mars mashup.

Everyone except two people.

Outside of the tent, Mat and Aurora are sitting on a bench, watching the sunset. Not feeling this song, Mat had murmured to her before jerking his head toward the tent opening, and who was she to say no to accompanying her friend to take in a Vancouver sunset?

“You think you’ll do all this?” The question is abrupt but curious, like his mind had been wandering and he blurted it out as soon as it appeared in his head.

“What? A wedding?”

He nods, gesturing around. “Yeah. You know, the flowers, the fuckin’… doilies, and shit.”

Aurora’s eyebrow raises as she hides a smile. “Do you even know what a doily is?”

“No, but it feels like something that would be here,” he says with a shrug. Dante’s loud laughter echoes from inside, piercing the quiet reprieve from the music.

A few moments pass, the silence comfortable. “Yeah, I think I’d like to get married someday. Do the whole thing. No doilies, though.”

Mat snorts, nudging her knee with his. “Wonder what the guy's gonna be like.”

Aurora considers for a moment. In the few minutes they’ve been outside, the sun has slipped beneath the horizon, its dim, fading light still splaying out from behind the trees. Dusk looks good on him, she thinks. “He’s gonna get me flowers. And take care of me when I’m drunk. And he’s gonna be really, really good looking.”

Mat hums, impressed. “Damn. Sounds like a catch.”

“Duh. I’m a catch,” she says, to which Mat nods in agreement. “How about you?”

“She’s gonna have a great rack,” he replies, grinning so wide he almost ruins the delivery of the joke before he’s doubling over. Aurora snorts but joins him in laughter with a playful smack to the shoulder.

Inside the tent, the DJ makes some announcement that Aurora only half hears—something about grabbing a loved one. Mat extends a hand, smiles wide, and she ignores the thump of her chest as she slips her fingers against his palm.

The anticipation pangs in her chest as he leads her to the dance floor. She feels a sliver of apprehension as he turns to face her, placing his hands respectfully on her waist. Instantly, there’s a flash of the night on the couch, of his lips against her skin; if he’s thinking about it, too, he doesn’t show any outward indication.

Any trace of discomfort dissipates once she gives in to his gravitational pull, hands lacing together behind his neck. He’s strong, sturdy, solid—the way he’s always been, ever-present and a constant in her life since she was 12. His eyes are warm, enveloping Aurora in his gaze until she forgets that there’s anyone else around.

They sway through the remainder of the song, and when notes begin to slow, she finds herself wishing it would last longer. Fortunately, almost like the DJ is privy to her thoughts, the beat picks up, slow song melding into something more upbeat. Mat blinks, the bubble surrounding them popping unceremoniously. He can’t bring himself to let Aurora go, not when she feels so right in his arms.

With a dramatic pull, Mat spins her around, hand supporting her back as he dips her backwards. Aurora squeals, hand clutching onto his as her footing almost loses balance. Laughter bubbles out of her throat as Mat pulls her back upright, his eyes glowing with amusement. Suddenly, he’s looking to do anything to keep hearing that sound.

It takes a truly revolting love song for them to finally leave the dance floor, beelining toward the bar in search of liquid refreshment and a break. The rest of the evening is easy, full of elation and conviviality, the kind of night that makes your cup overflow and runneth over.

That night, when Aurora slips into bed tipsy at 2AM with a contented sigh, she falls asleep dreaming of brown eyes and a crooked smile.

December 2022 – New York, New York

When Mat saw the text informing him that Aurora had a job interview for a Software Engineering Lead at TekStack in New York, he offered up his spare bedroom before she could even tell him the date. It would be a waste of money to stay at a hotel when he had an apartment he barely used, he said, and she could make a long weekend out of it and he’d show her around Long Island.

The grin on Mat’s face grows the instant he sees her, a gray coat draped over her arm as she wheels her carry-on behind her. He opens his arms and she falls into them, the way she has a hundred times. “Welcome to New York.”

“—it’s been waiting for you!”

“Set you up for that on purpose,” he says, offering to take her bag. “You hungry?”

“Starving,” she replies. “But I really want to get the airplane off me first. Maybe takeout for tonight?”

Mat smiles. “Say no more. I know exactly the place.”

A few hours later, Aurora is seated at Mat’s counter, a spread of styrofoam across the quartz. Her suit is hanging in a garment bag on the back of the door to the guest bedroom, waiting to be pressed before her interview. It’s so familiar, the fondness, the sense of comfort, the shared laughter over a plate—or several—of food, but it’s no longer Dante’s family’s lakehouse or the Barzal family’s finished basement. This time, it’s Mat’s fancy apartment in Garden City, the rent alone more than what Aurora makes in a month.

But it’s still the same Mat sitting across from her. Same crooked smile, same easy laughter, same silly, unabashed personality. Admittedly, she was anxious wondering about how things would be; they’d hung out plenty over the summer, kept in touch via the group chat, but their one-on-one time had been limited the last few years.

Despite the apprehension, Aurora is surprised at how quickly they shake off the rust, barely needing any recoil time before it feels like old times. Of course, the camaraderie and pleasantries aren’t nearly enough to build up an immunity to his gray Lululemon sweatpants or the peek of his sculpted Adonis belt when he raises his arms in a lazy stretch. She wasn’t sure how she’d feel when she saw him, but she reluctantly accepts the steady beat of her heart in her chest that tells her her crush is, in fact, still holding strong.

They stay up chatting far longer than Mat anticipated, bedtime delayed even further when he offers to help her prepare for her interview, shrugging with a, I’m not tired anyway—anything to spend just a little more time with her. He Googles ‘Top Interview Questions’ and spends over an hour posing them to her, letting her work through how she’d answer each. Admittedly, he had never really had much practice in the way of a job interview outside of the pre-draft conversations he’d had with various NHL GM’s, but he had more than enough experience at preparing for an onslaught of questions—and how to shake off the nerves beforehand.

“The thing I’ve learned most is to be concise,” he says, thinking back to when he first did NHL-mandated media training. “Don’t be afraid to take a few seconds after the question to think through what you want to say. That helps so you don’t ramble.”

“Don’t ramble. Got it.”

“And listen to some boss bitch music that hypes you up on your way in. It makes a difference. I promise.”

Aurora raises an eyebrow. “I’m gonna need to know what type of ‘boss bitch’ music you’re listening to pre-game, Barzal.”

“Megan Thee Stallion is my top preference,” he says with a grin, “but if you tell anyone that, I’ll deny it and say Drake.”

“Any last expert advice for me?”

“Get a good night’s sleep,” he says, then glances at his phone at the mention of the time. “Which means we’re about two hours behind schedule. Let’s get you to bed.”

Mat offers to carry her bag to the guest bedroom—decorated straight out of a West Elm catalog—and Aurora thanks him before bidding him good night. After changing into her pajamas, she quickly shakes off the urge to pad down the hallway and slip into Mat’s bed with him, reminding herself that that isn’t why she’s here.

Instead, she settles into the soft sheets, feeling herself slipping right back into the old, familiar flutter in her chest.

—

Serendipitously, the scheduling worked out perfectly: the interview was Friday at 1PM, and the Islanders hosted the Predators on Friday night at 7PM, which meant Dante would be in New York and around for post-game dinner, drinks, and a little mid-season reunion for the trio of friends. Aurora shook away the feeling that fate was somehow intervening.

Friday morning arrives, and Mat has morning skate, so he wishes her good luck with a tight hug before he shoves a protein bar in his mouth on his way out the door. For good measure, he sends a string of emojis (💪👩🏽‍💼✅💰) once he arrives at the rink, hoping they’ll give her an extra boost of confidence.

Practice is relatively easy, more of the opportunity to move his body and run through some plays—nothing intense, preserving energy for the actual game. He’s thankful for a pretty painless practice as his mind continually floats to Aurora, wondering how her interview went. Mat isn’t quite sure why he feels so invested in her landing this role until he realizes that if she gets it, she’ll be moving to New York.

“Barzy, you trying to go out after the game?” Oliver asks across the locker room. Mat’s tugging on a pair of sweatpants, fresh from his post-practice shower.

“He can’t,” Matt pipes in with a lopsided grin. “His girl is here.”

Mat groans, pressing a hand to his face as he points a middle finger in Marty’s direction. Next thing he knows, the chirps and wolf whistles fill the room and he feels Pierre aggressively nudge his shoulder.

“A girl?”

“Yeah, the hot brunette. Total smokeshow,” Casey fills in for him.

“Woof woof, Barzy!”

“Get it, Matty B!”

“Fuck off,” Mat huffs, a dismissive hand directed at no one in particular. “She’s not my… girl.”

“She stayin’ at your place?” Dobson asks. “Gonna be at the game tonight?”

Mat nods, earning another chorus of whistles. He rolls his eyes as he tosses his gloves and practice jersey in the bin, ignoring the no pre-game sex jokes (“Can’t play 3 periods if you’ve already played one in the sheets”).

“If she’s not your girl, I’m definitely gonna make a move, then.”

“Fuck off, Dobber.”

—

Aurora arrives home from the interview to find a jersey folded on the bed, along with a handwritten note–thought you might want to have something to rep the home team. She sends back a text to Mat to thank him and respond to his inquiry about the interview before setting off to change and make her way to UBS.

The game is disappointing, if you’re an Islanders fan. But while Aurora is sporting the blue and orange jersey, she’s waiting excitedly for a Nashville Predator to meet her in the designated area Mat directed her to.

When he rounds the corner, hair still wet from his shower, she runs up to him and leaps into his arms. Dante grins as he embraces her in a tight hug. “Feel stupid now for wearing the wrong colors tonight, huh?”

“I have to support my host,” she says with an eye roll.

The host in question appears as if he’s been summoned, moving to hug his old friend, but not before his eyes drag over the 13 on Aurora’s arm. The three of them together just feels right, the dynamic shifted—but complete.

Once they’ve been seated at a high top in a bar in Rockville Centre, Dante turns to Aurora. “‘Ror, how was the interview?”

“It went great,” she grins, accepting the fist bump Dante offers her. “I aced the coding exercise.”

“You’re such a badass. I picture you like one of those hackers in the movies.”

Aurora snorts, shaking her head. She thanks the waiter who places her drink in front of her. “It’s not really like that, but thanks.”

Conversation flows easily amongst the trio–only one comment from Dante razzing Mat for the 4-1 loss–and eventually the food arrives, along with another round of drinks.

“So… you really gonna join us and become a Yank?” Dante probes over his meal.

“To be honest, I don’t even know if I’d accept it,” she says quietly. Mat watches the way her lip disappears between her teeth as she contemplates; he doesn’t envy the gargantuan decision that lies ahead of her. “It’s a big move to make.”

As dense as he knows he can sometimes be, Mat recognizes this as a pivotal opportunity for him to share his own experience moving across the continent. He doesn’t have much in the way of advice, the distance something he just grew accustomed to in time, but he knows what it’s like; feeling the divide between him and the rest of his life like a bruise that won’t quite heal, the precious few-hour window where phone calls and texts make 5,000 kilometers feel like 10.

In so many words, he tells her so, aided by Dante’s supporting murmurs in a rare serious moment. Aurora absorbs it, if nothing else, comforted by the fact that they understand—kind of. It’s a little different moving cross-continent when you’re going to make millions of dollars, but money certainly doesn’t make the distance less of a burden to carry.

“FaceTime is your best friend,” Dante says, and Mat nods in agreement.

“Oh, is that why I get one FaceTime from you every two months?” she sticks her tongue out at Dante. Mat makes a mental note to FaceTime her more often. If she moves to New York, he won’t have to.

“No, that’s ‘cause you’re not my best friend,” Dante jokes, and Aurora scoffs playfully, eyes rolled in annoyance.

Sensing the end of the semi-serious moment, Mat stands up. “Gotta rock a piss.”

“Charming, Barz.”

Dante watches Mat’s retreating figure, eyeing the brown locks until they disappear down the hallway toward the restrooms. His gaze moves to Aurora’s, lowering his head conspiratorially. “Is something happening?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You two. You seem… different.”

Aurora’s eyebrows raise. “Different how?”

“Just… different,” Dante shrugs, then takes another swig of his drink. “It’s not like everyone doesn’t know you’ve been in love with each other forever.”

Jaw dropping in shock, Aurora feels her face suddenly get very hot. “That’s not true!”

“Oh, I didn’t realize we were still in denial,” he says, feigning self-defense and fighting a smile. “My bad. I’ll go back to trying to ignore the way you googly eyes each other.”

“I do not make googly eyes at him!”

“Man, ‘Ror, that acceptance is really buried deep down in there, huh?” Dante grins, dodging the french fry she launches in his direction. Then, he’s back to serious—kind of. “I know it’s a big leap to take when you’ve been friends for so long, but you haven’t been subjected to seeing the way you look at each other. I wish you’d just make out already. It’s disgusting.”

Aurora doesn’t have the heart to tell him they’ve already done far more than make out—multiple times—and part of her is relieved that Mat never divulged that information to his best friend despite every opportunity to. This way, it’s their little secret, something for just the two of them to have.

Mat’s return effectively ends the conversation. They pay their tabs—Aurora ignores Dante’s pointed look when Mat picks hers up without a word—and make their way to the next bar.

Several hours and far too many Palomas later, Mat unlocks the door to his apartment. He struggles slightly under the stumbling weight of Aurora, who’s latched onto him as she drunkenly giggles. He’s not much better off, but the Uber ride sobered him up enough to think to order DoorDash, conveniently arriving a few minutes after they get in the door.

Coaxing her to eat is a bit of a struggle, but he finally manages to get her into a barstool, munching contentedly on chicken tenders.

“C’mon, ‘Ror,” he murmurs once he sees she isn’t going to finish the third tender. He wraps an arm around her waist, helping her out of the seat to stand her up. “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”

“Carry me!”

Without any additional warning, she’s leaping into his arms. Mat lets out an oof but manages to secure her in his arms as he carries her to the guest bedroom. When he places her on the mattress, her legs don’t untangle from his waist, and Mat feels the near instant pulse in his groin. Aurora’s eyes are closed, but her hips move, subtly, and he allows himself to revel in the feeling of her brushing against him. It doesn’t take long for his dick to become hard as steel, aided massively by the soft, sleepy whimpers that leave Aurora’s throat.

“Matty,” she whispers, hands seeking out the dips in his biceps.

Mat wants nothing more than to throw caution to the wind and devour her like he’s been aching to from the moment he saw a glimpse of her in a towel coming out of the shower this morning. He’s got just enough booze in his system to cloud his judgment, hand trailing up her side and savoring the warmth of her body against his palm. His dick twitches in his pants when he glides a hand over Aurora’s breast, yearning to tug the cups of that stupidly sexy corset down to repeat his fantasy.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he summons every single ounce of self-restraint left in his body and tears himself away from her tempting frame. Much to his chagrin, Aurora lets out the most devastating, disappointed mewl and Mat swears he can feel his heart (and dick) shatter at the sound.

“‘Ror,” he whispers. “We can’t.”

“Why not? S’not like we’ve never… done it before,” she slurs, reaching to run her hands across his pecs. He indulges in the feeling for just a brief moment, his resolve fleeting with every second.

“Not like this.”

“Y-you—” she hiccups, then frowns when he gently takes her hands off of him, “—you don’t… want me.”

“No,” Mat says quickly. He’s pretty sure she won’t remember in the morning, but if she does, he wants her to remember this. “I do. But I don’t want it to be like this.”

“Only wore this so you’d take it off,” she murmurs, and Mat groans, the devil on his shoulder whispering very strong reasons why he should give into temptation.

Ultimately, the good guy in him wins the battle, ignoring the throbbing of his dick when he helps Aurora to shimmy off her skintight leather pants. He does his best to avoid staring at the flimsy scrap of fabric between her thighs and pretends not to notice how little it covers. Her body is almost entirely dead weight as he tries to figure out how to remove her corset, eventually tugging it over her head; her breasts fall free, and he chokes on his own spit as he desperately looks around for something to cover her with.

Dashing to his room, he grabs a t-shirt—only a little bit intentionally selecting an Islanders tee in order to see her wearing his colors again; on his way back, he pours a glass of water and grabs a bottle of Advil from the bathroom. When he returns, Aurora’s breathing is heavy and she’s lying in the same position he left her in, finally asleep.

Mat places the water on the nightstand, then notices her phone and plugs it into the charger. Gently, he slides the t-shirt over her head and maneuvers her arms through the sleeves, then situates her and tucks her in before pulling the blanket up to her chin. With a kiss on her forehead, Mat quietly steps back to return to his room, ready to palm himself off, the image of her tiny panties and her tits seared into his brain.

Just before he shuts the door, he hears a quiet whisper of his name, a soft Matty in the darkness. He pauses, waiting for her to speak again.

“Stay.”

Something in her voice makes his heart ache. He stands, frozen in place, hesitant to return to her; afraid that he won’t have the willpower to resist her if she makes a move again. Like an unruly stepchild, his dick throbs as he adjusts himself.

“Please?”

Her voice is so sweet, he can’t help himself. His feet move of their own accord, back to the bed before he’s crawling under the covers beside her. Aurora’s arm immediately wraps around his stomach, snuggling into the crook of his shoulder. As he listens to her dozing off, Mat pretends it’s the alcohol that blankets his heart with warmth and not the girl sleeping soundly in his arms.

—

Bright light wakes her first. There’s a few, beautiful seconds of peace before the throbbing begins.

Aurora groans loudly, hand flying to shield her eyes. Timidly, she stretches her legs out slowly, to avoid the wave of searing pain through her skull. She has a memory of Mat’s hands touching her, dragging their way up her body, but she can’t decide if that was real or just a dream. Judging by the empty space next to her in bed, she assumes it was a dream.

She gropes for her phone on the bedside table—thankful that she had the foresight to plug in her phone in her inebriated state—and opens Instagram. Dante’s green Close Friends story bubble is one of the first she sees. The video that lies within makes her groan: it’s Aurora, illuminated by the dim, disco lights of the bar they ended up at in Rockville Centre, making an absolute fool of herself dancing. If you can even call it dancing. It’s more like a series of unhinged, discombobulated movements that barely follow the pulse of the music playing over the speakers.

But Mat Barzal is in the background, watching her like she put the stars in the sky. His eyes are warm, and the smile on his face is soft, relaxed; a look of adoration. Of love.

[Gina:] Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and Mat? [Gina:] Dude is looking at you like you just birthed his firstborn on Dante’s story [Gina:] Wait, he didn’t knock you up, did he?

Aurora snorts at the texts from her pseudo-sister.

[Aurora:] Funny enough, your brother asked me the same thing [Aurora:] And no, he did not knock me up [Gina:] Still waiting on the answer to my first question

Aurora is halfway through typing a message (“I’ll call you when I get home”) when she hears the front door open and close. A few seconds later, there’s a gentle knock at the door before a messy-haired Mat pokes his head in. “G’morning, sunshine.”

She groans, throwing the blanket over her head in an attempt to shield herself. “Can you stop yelling?”

He laughs, and though it’s lovely, the sound pierces her brain with a fiery stake. “So you don’t want me to tell you there’s bagels in the kitchen?”

Aurora peeks her head out from under the comforter. “Bagels, you say?”

“Bagel sandwiches,” he corrects. “Best on Long Island.”

Contemplating for a moment, Aurora glances at the glass of water on the nightstand, along with the two Advil sitting by it. He must have put them there this morning. She downs then, throws on a sweatshirt, and trudges into the kitchen behind Mat.

Aurora is convinced the bagel sandwiches have magic in them, reinvigorating her brain and hitting just the right spot. The two of them chew in silence for a while, Mat choosing to give her a few minutes to come back to life.

When he senses the medication might have kicked in, he speaks, slowly. He isn’t sure why he’s feeling so nervous. “Are you sure you have to go back today?”

She laughs and nods. “Sadly, I do have to get back to my actual job that I haven’t quit yet.”

“Just saying, you can come and be my roommate–free of charge. You just gotta do the dishes and help with a little laundry.”

Aurora’s eyebrow raises, taking a long sip of the hot mug of coffee he’d placed in front of her ten minutes ago. “So you want a live-in maid?”

“Well, when you say it like that…” Mat trails off with a laugh. “Really though. When are you supposed to hear back?”

“They just said in a couple weeks,” she shrugs. Only a few more weeks before life could change forever.

Something in their goodbye is different; a little bit timid, maybe even hesitant, but neither call it to attention. Mat gives her a squeeze in the departures lane, wishing her a safe flight, and Aurora promises to keep him updated on the job.

He watches her slip between the sliding doors, watching her figure retreat until he can’t see her anymore.

January 2023 — Vancouver, British Columbia

Aurora huffs, blowing the hair out of her eyes as she concentrates on her phone in her hand. She types, deletes, then re-types her message.

I got the job.

Her finger hovers over the button to send, heart pounding. She doesn’t know why she’s nervous, not exactly, but she knows there’s a lot of weight behind those four words, knows that they have the potential to change everything. For her. For him. Everything.

[Mat:] Congratulations! Told you you’d kill it. 😊

The text is followed by a gif of Buddy the Elf, and Aurora almost snorts at the stupidity of it. She takes a breath, almost… disappointed? If nothing else, she was expecting a bit more excitement, more fanfare.

Aurora presses down on the message and gives it a thumbs up.

Three hours later, she’s on the phone with Gina, gushing over the excitement of her job offer. She hasn’t even accepted it, but she’s still wistfully dreaming of how she might decorate her Manhattan apartment, anticipating the charm—among other things—of being in the greatest city in the world.

Gina senses Aurora’s hesitation before she even says anything. “But…”

“…but if I go, I’m pretty sure I’m going to get my heart broken.” She can hear Gina contemplating on the other line, probably debating how to deliver her latest blow of hard-hitting advice.

Gina’s next sentence is quiet, but confident. “You just need to talk to him, ‘Ror.”

“I know.”

Aurora’s phone buzzes, but it isn’t until she gets off the phone with Gina a few minutes later that she sees the second text appear on her screen.

[Mat:] so, we gonna do this? [Aurora:] do what?

She watches the text bubbles appear, then disappear. The seconds feel like an eternity before a FaceTime call is popping up, a photo of 17-year-old Mat with upside down sunglasses on. Sliding to answer, she’s greeted by the sight of Mat, arm resting behind his head, silver chain peeking out of the hem of his white t-shirt. His hair is ruffled, and he’s looking at the camera with a knowing smirk.

“You and me,” he says simply. It takes Aurora a few moments to realize he’s responding to her text—and a few more before she realizes what he’s saying.

“You–are you—what?”

“You know, give it the old college try.” He offers a cheeky shrug of his shoulders, a flash of his charming smile.

“Mat, are you asking me out?”

“Were you expecting a grand proposal with roses and champagne?”

She ignores his snigger, too frenzied to acknowledge his sarcastic quip. Instead, she opts to get to the real question she has burning a hole in her chest. “Where is this coming from?”

“I’ve been waiting for a chance with you since we were 15, ‘Rora. Jus’ never had one ‘til right now.”

Aurora’s jaw drops, words completely absent from her brain. This was everything she’d wanted to hear for the better part of a decade, and here he is, as casual as if he was asking her to pass the salt at the dinner table.

Mat’s waiting for a response, so she shakes off the surprise and does her best to gather her composure. She isn’t sure what to feel: elated, irritated, and skeptical, and everything in between. “And you never thought to tell me you felt this way?”

He shrugs. “Jus’ did, didn’t I?”

Aurora resists the laugh at the simplicity of his Boy Brain. “Mathew Michael Paul Barzal, if you are fucking with me and this is some shit idea of a joke—”

“Why would I joke about something like that?” he says, then a glint takes over in his eyes. “I would like to be fucking you, though.”

An exasperated sigh leaves her throat, though she begrudgingly notes the way her stomach flips at his statement. “Can you not do—that—for five minutes, please? This is a lot of information to take in.”

Mat hums an apology, not really sorry. He watches the way she puts her phone down, his view now the slowly spinning ceiling fan in her apartment bedroom. He can hear the sigh, the sound of her feet padding slowly on the hardwood floor–pacing.

“I’m serious, Aurora.” He announces it out, loudly, maybe a little more formally than he expected.

Her forehead peeks over the camera, frizzy, unstyled post-shower waves falling over her face. “Fuck, Mat.”

“You could come live with me in Garden City,” he says. “Take the subway in on the days you go into work. Could set up an office for you in the den.”

“Mat, I’m not fucking moving in with you when I don’t even know what this is,” she says, exasperated, ignoring the thought he’s clearly put into it all. She hears the words he’s saying, but after almost a decade of missed connections, crushed hopes, and mixed messages, she’s hesitant to really take them to heart. It’s a defense mechanism, not willing to trust him even though she’s pretty sure he’s serious. “Do you realize how insane you sound?”

“M’not,” he says, shakes his head for emphasis. “It’s always been you, Ror.”

At that, Aurora has to sit down, the weight of the words smacking her clean in the chest. She can feel the magic, the warmth, the fuzzies enveloping her heart, ready to soar into the clouds at what he’s saying. At the same time, she’s confused, uncertain, maybe a little angry. More frustrated than mad, really, but she knows she deserves an explanation all the same.

“Why haven’t you said anything this entire time? It’s been years, Mat. I’ve loved you since we were fifteen—waiting this whole time to hear you say this, to give me any fucking clue that maybe you felt the same way.”

He looks like a puppy who has been scolded for destroying a roll of toilet paper. Then, “You think I don’t want to be with you?”

“You never gave a sign. You never even acknowledged what happened between us.”

It’s the first sign of any remorse when Mat sighs, his eyes cast down from the camera. “I—I thought it was casual. We’ve lived so far apart I just thought—”

“—thought it wasn’t worth it?”

“No,” he says quickly, looking up to meet her gaze. “I thought you wouldn’t want to do it. The distance.”

“Thought you regretted it,” she admits. Her voice is so quiet Mat barely hears it.

“Regret sleeping with the girl I’ve been in love with since I was in high school? Yeah, okay,” he snorts. “My only regret is that we haven’t been doing it all this time.”

Aurora hums, overwhelmed by his confession—if you can call it that—and the influx of feelings that have inundated her chest. What he’s saying makes sense, in a twisted, boy-math kind of way.

“What does being—” she swallows the word girlfriend like a disgusting cough syrup. “—together look like?”

“Whatever you want it to look like.”

“What do you want it to look like?”

Mat hums. He thinks, envisions what calling Aurora his girl—for real, not just when he’s getting razzed by his teammates–would look like. A picture of waking up with her in his arms, sleepy and smiling. Eating takeout on the couch, her feet in his lap, sporting one of his t-shirts while they catch up on Succession. Seeing her in the stands at UBS, wearing his number on her back. Laughter, comfort, happiness. Home.

In other words, the entire weekend he spent with her.

“Don’t say something stupid like, ‘unlimited sex’,” she adds, the dreamy smile on his face alerting her to the idea that some of his thoughts may, perhaps, be unsavory.

“Wasn’t gonna,” he replies, “but now that you mention it…”

“I’m going to hang up.”

“I’m just joking, ‘Ror. I mean, don’t get me wrong, that would be top of my list. But you gotta know that you’re way more to me than just great tits and a fat ass.”

“Mat!”

“Okay, okay, sorry,” he says, holding a hand up as if to defend himself from her scathing tone. Aurora’s eyes roll and she scoffs, though Mat swears he sees the corner of her lip turn up just slightly. “I’d… want it to look exactly like this.”

Aurora blinks, not expecting such a simple answer—not that she had any idea of what to expect out of his mouth, ever. The concept that they’re already there, minus the labels, is… overwhelming. A little bit unnerving, because everything that flicks through her mind just feels like more and more evidence that he’s right. Dante, Gina, everyone else saw it—she’d just been blind to it the whole time.

“So,” he says slowly, afraid to pop her thought bubble. “What d’you say?”

“Wish you were here and not on FaceTime,” she mumbles, embarrassed at the vulnerability that slips out.

“I’ll get a flight to Vancouver right now, if it helps.”

Aurora smiles melancholy, and it tastes bittersweet. She knows he’s serious, would be by her side as soon as humanly possible, if she asked. But she also knows his influence will only sway her in one direction, and she needs to make sure she’s making an unbiased decision.

“Ror?”

“I–I need some space, okay?”

“I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

—

The next week is a blur, a mess of emotions and running through the same scenarios in her head over and over again. Aurora sits at the countertop on FaceTime with Gina, dissecting the options for what feels like the thousandth time.

“I don’t know what he doesn’t understand about space but this sure isn’t it,” she says, glancing at the bouquet of flowers sitting in a pretty—and expensive—glass vase.

“I think it’s sweet,” Gina insists. “Besides, we all know he isn’t the smartest.”

“It feels like he’s pressuring me, Gin,” Aurora says.

Gina rolls her eyes. “So he wants to show you he cares after years of burying his feelings. Sue the guy, why don’t you?”

Dusting a crumb off of the kitchen counter, scrolling through the relocation document TekStack had sent her along with her offer, Aurora sighs. Gina’s right; other than the flowers, he’d cooled it on everything else, and she missed it—the stupid memes, the goofy texts, the random (and gross) Snapchat series of him peeing in different cities. Missed him.

“Can’t wait to visit you. Keep the sex to a minimum while I’m in the guest bedroom, ‘kay?”

“Shut up!”

February 2023 — New York, New York

Mat fidgets, wiping his hands on his sides before glancing at his watch for the 16th time in five minutes. 3:17pm. Any minute now.

When he sees her coming down the catwalk, he doesn’t think twice; his strides quicken, along with the tick of his heart, and his fingers itch in anticipation. When he reaches her, he ignores the look of surprise on her face, hands cupping her jaw and pulling her mouth to his in a kiss that takes her breath away.

“I love you,” he says breathlessly when she pulls away, an expression of pure shock on her face. “Should’ve been telling you that for years. Please, please, please be mine. For real.”

The corners of Aurora’s lips twitch before they curl into a smile, and Mat has to resist the urge to kiss her again before she can even answer.

“Thought you said you weren’t gonna do an elaborate proposal,” she says with a laugh.

“Would, if that’s what it took,” he mumbles. He knows he’s being a simp, but he’s not missing this chance now that it’s right in front of him, so close he can taste it—literally. Her chapstick lingers on his lips, subtle but enough that he knows it’s all her.

“Lucky for you, Barzy, I think an airport love confession is the perfect amount of elaborate.”

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lemotmo · 4 months ago

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Hi!! First, I just wanted to say I always enjoy checking out your posts because you have such great takes and treat every single ask with such respect. Even when it’s something that you may disagree with, you always take the time to ensure everyone that it’s just your opinion and respect the other person’s point of view! :) It’s so refreshing to see because I feel like over hiatus especially the fandom has become somewhat of a dumpster fire…lol.

Also, I agree completely about Oliver. He always says that he trusts Tim and his writing so I don’t think he would necessarily ask to have Lou leave or for BT to end abruptly or anything. And as much as we all say “oh he hates that man” we truly don’t know. What we do know, at least by his tweets at the time, was there was some tension in his friendship with Ryan several years back. Like it’s crazy to think during the shooting arc and will scene and Eddie breakdown arc in s5 that there was so much tension offscreen. It just goes to show how much of a professional he is! I also don’t think the other side is true either where Oliver is apparently purposely not promoting BT or interacting with Lou on social media to “protect him from the buddie fans.” I just think Oliver isn’t super active on social media for his own reasons and people look waaayyyy too much into things. Anyway, sorry this was so long winded LOL I just wanted to point out that we truly don’t know Oliver or his thoughts and feelings and some people making these inferences sound almost more like headcanons and it’s giving parasocial.

First of all, thank you Nonny. That means a lot to me. I always do my very best to try to stay respectful towards people and ships on my blog. That doesn’t mean that I don’t give my very honest opinions and critical takes on certain topics, but I don’t feel the need to yell over it and use more explicit language. I also avoid specific shipping tags for ships I don’t like and character tags for characters I don't like. I find that being respectful like that ultimately gets you further.

Now, that also doesn’t mean that I don’t get frustrated with some takes in fandom. But I mostly -and wisely- choose to rant about that to some of my Tumblr mutuals/friends in private. Throwing out all of my more hateful frustrations in public would only generate more hate and I try to avoid that. My inbox is so much more interesting when I get positive asks. I admit that I get so many asks these days that it has become impossible to answer them all.

Now, I do want to reply to your ask because you talk about a few topics that are near and dear to my heart and -of course- I have some opinions about. 😊

I first want to address The Ryan part of your ask. I was around in fandom during those days. It wasn’t pretty, but the way people talk about this now is a complete overreaction. The cast’s reaction to this event totally gets blown out of proportion. There was some tension for a while there, sure. Oliver deleted some of his tweets/Instagram posts that had to do with Ryan and then he unfollowed him.

But it was obvious that it didn’t take Oliver and the rest of the cast too long to move on. I’m pretty sure that, by the time the shooting arc came along, followed closely by the breaking down arc, Oliver and Ryan were on good terms again. Maybe not as close as they were before at that specific moment, but still on good terms. Both men are professionals and they did such a fantastic job when it came to those amazing scenes.

Now, don’t get me wrong, what Ryan said was inappropriate and disrespectful, I agree. However, the man apologised immediately and he has been working hard since then to become a better and lighter version of himself. And he has succeeded as we can all see how well he gets along with the entire cast and especially the POC in the cast that have completely moved past his mistake.

These days Ryan and Oliver are like two peas in a pod. They have always been close and they have always had insane chemistry, but ever since the beginning of season 7 it has all been ramped up. I’m one of the people convinced that they got the news that Buddie is finally happening. That they got the green light to go there. Which is something they have wanted for a long time now.

Now, second… as to Oliver not liking Lou? I’m afraid that I’m going to have to disagree with you on this one. I really do think that Oliver doesn’t like Lou all that much. If he was upset and angry over what Ryan said in one video a couple of years ago, I can only imagine his horrified reaction to all those terrible, disrespectful and inappropriate Instagram posts Lou made, for which he hasn’t apologised at all by the way. That interview he did with Lou also doesn’t help. Oliver wasn’t comfortable at all. His body language screamed: “I don’t want to be here.” And Lou just kept on talking about himself. I don’t know why Oliver was even there. BT was hardly even mentioned.

So, while I don’t think that Oliver would ask Tim to get rid of Lou, I only think he wouldn’t ask in function of the Buddie arc they are telling. If Tommy’s presence is necessary in that arc? Oliver will suck it up like the professional he is, because if there is one thing he wants more than anything for Buck, it’s Eddie. If Tim were to tell Oliver that he wanted to take the BT relationship further in any way, I do think he would protest and say ‘no’.

Oliver not promoting BT or Tommy has to do with the fact that he knows that Tommy isn’t sticking around as Buck’s love interest. Tommy is a plot device. He has always been a plot device. That is the way the show set him up. He is meant to have a purpose in the Buddie arc. What that purpose is? We don’t know. But it’s all there in the narrative for those who are willing to look at it logically and from a writer’s point of view.

A few seasons ago Oliver just stopped talking about Buddie. In some of his latest interviews he confessed that he stopped talking about them because he didn’t want to lead the fans on. He knew it would never happen under FOX. As soon as the show came into the hands of ABC, he started yapping about Buddie again. Him and Ryan were so vocal about them. It was clear that something had shifted. They knew that they were finally going there. Buddie was happening, but it would take some time to get there.

When they got renewed it was obvious that Tim decided to take his time for Buddie and put a temporary break on their development, so he could do it right in season 8. That didn’t stop him from putting them together in every other scene they were in. 😉

Now, like with all good slow burn couples there has to be a narrative foil. And in comes Tommy. Tommy who seems interested in Eddie. Buck who clearly gets jealous over the fact that Tommy is stealing Eddie (and Chris) from him. And then Tommy realising that he won’t get far with Eddie, but Buck (who is completely confused about his own emotions at this point) seems a little interested, so why not give it a go?

So, why is Oliver not talking about Tommy or engaging with anything BT while he still talks about Buddie and interacted with Buddie stuff up until the finale? Because he knows where the story is heading. History is repeating itself. Oliver doesn’t want to lead the BT fans on, so he simply doesn’t react or interact with anything Tommy or BT. And there is also the element that it is very clear right now that both Oliver and Ryan are actively rooting for Buddie and only Buddie. They know what their characters need. Love that for us! 😊

None of this is about headcanons by the way. It has been said -in words- time and time again, by Oliver himself (and Ryan as well) that he would love Buddie to happen, if it was written well. He shows it in everything he does on social media. Him and Ryan talked about reading fan fiction and watching video edits. I mean, he couldn’t make it anymore clear that he wants Buddie and not BT. So, this is not a headcanon. This is fact.

This is also not about parasocial relationships. We all like Oliver and Ryan, but most of us admire them from afar. We don’t go into their inboxes to message them or we don’t send them weird messages. I know that there are always some more outspoken fanatics in every fandom and the Buddie fandom is not an exception to that. It sadly cannot be avoided, but overall we have been pretty good as a fandom I would say.

That brings us to Lou and his army of goons…

Mind you, I’m not talking about the many normal and lovely sane BT fans and multi-shippers who genuinly like Tommy. Ship and let ship and all. Most of these fans fully realise that Tommy’s time on the show is probably limited. Anonymous OP shoutout!

I’m talking about the select few (the more outspoken and loud fandom fanatics I mentioned before) who accused Buddie fans of hacking one of their Twitter accounts and who thought it was a swell idea to DM Tim with a too long video about strings of fate (which Tim later admitted to never watching) and ask him about Tommy’s age and other stuff. That is just crazy and a big no no in any fandom. Leave the show runners and actors alone. I don’t care who you ship. Just leave them alone.

The biggest problem is this: Lou made up a bunch of nonsensical headcanons about Tommy and BT that go against every single thing we have seen in canon so far. Canon has shown us, time and time again, that Tommy isn’t really interested in Buck for a loving relationship. Everything he says is reduced to sexual innuendo. And no, I am not a little quivering virgin lady who is afraid of sex and who doesn’t understand the dynamics between two adults in a sexual relationship. I am, in fact, an adult who has had sexual relationships and who knows exactly how relationships work between two adults in their thirties or forties.

Fully grown adults have paid hundreds of dollars to listen to Lou spout his nonsense. These people have all bought the same shirt Lou was wearing in one of his cameos. They call it the Louniform. These people believe every single thing that comes out of Lou’s mouth and take it as gospel. They have extensively hated on Ryan and Eddie. And lately they have even been hating on Oliver because he doesn’t support BT enough in their eyes.

Now that, THAT is a textbook example of a parasocial relationship with an actor.

They call the Buddie shippers ‘homophobic’ for not liking a character. I myself have received some asks in my inbox accusing me of being homophobic. I’m sorry, But WHAT? Look, I have never lied about not vibing with Tommy. I don’t like him as a character. I’m not hateful about it. I don’t spew my dislike for Tommy all over the BT tag or something like that. I just respectfully talk about how he isn’t right for Buck on my own personal blog. This is called ‘Having an opinion and sharing it.’

Tommy is just not my kind of guy at all. I don’t vibe with his demeanour and behaviour. I don’t think he is a good match for Buck. I don’t like the way he treats Buck. And yes! I am a Buddie shipper! So of course a part of why I don’t like him is rooted in the opinion that he is the wrong guy for Buck. But there is so much more to it than only that. Now all of this is not me being homophobic. It is just me being critical and actually using my brain to understand what the show is ultimately really trying to tell me: Tommy is a plot device and we are not supposed to like him!

I’m tired of being accused of something that I am not, over disliking a character that we aren’t even supposed to like in the first place. It’s crazy behaviour. It needs to stop!

Anyway, I’m sorry Nonny. I didn’t mean to end up venting like this on your ask, but it just happened. Now I’m the one being long winded. Sorry.😊 I’m not mad at you or anything like that. Don’t worry.

On the contrary, you helped me get some of these things out in a well written, but still respectful way. You got me writing about all of the fandom things that have been bugging me lately. I was on fire. So, in a weird way: Thank you for your assistance. ❤️

#insight into 911 fandom & season 7 and 8 #buddie speculation #season 8 speculation #oliver stark #buddie #ryan guzman #yes I'm tagging this Buddie because this is important for the Buddie arc #911 abc #I was due for a good venting post #Thank you Nonny #nonnies galore

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marchentraume · 1 year ago

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Radio Omens Thoughts

General -

First off, you can find the Radio Drama here uwuwuwu

The cast was 10/10 amazing, I love the audiobook but it was really interesting to hear how Neil and Sir Terry wanted everyone to sound before the show was even a thought. Dirk Maggs and Heather Larmour's Direction is so well done! I'm a huge fan of Hitchhiker's Guide so might try out his radio drama later...

The Them and Anathema are personal faves of the supporting cast so I’m always happy to get a new experience with those characters, Anathema’s gaydar going off the charts was perfect (“‘Angel’?” gets me good).

Just want to highlight Josie Lawrence as Agnes is perfect just like with the show, I’m so happy they didn’t change that after the radio drama, the adaptation made her so wickedly charming that I think was in the show but it goes by so fast with everything going on.

There are definitely parts in the book that are somewhat hard for me to get through, and I think the radio adaptation helped push those along a lot better. I do wish we got to hear the parts of Aziraphale spirit hopping around a bit before finding Crowley, but I just wanted to hear him talk more. Overall this is a good way to experience the book if you aren’t sure about reading it yet, or you’re like me and need help figuring out what it was I read in the first place.

Aziraphale and Crowley -

No notes holy shit 20/10 casting, they’re only in the drama just about as much as the book which makes me sad but their scenes were absolutely burning with how flirty they were.

They are 100% already married here and comfortable with each other, the lull of their routine is only disrupted by Armageddon which is really annoying so now they have to do their jobs.

Aziraphale acting as narrator for some scenes was a good choice, blah blah something about reliable vs unreliable narrator Crowley (I just can’t put it to words right now oops).

Peter Serafinowicz your Crowley gives me so much gender it’s insane, also when he’s doing the nanny voice???? Hello????? I could have a whole chapter of him and Aziraphale during that time just chatting with each other and little Warlock.

I overall really loved the respective performances of Peter and Mark, both portrayed the two with this freedom of doubt and lots of mutual love. Crowley still wants to keep Aziraphale safe and he’s confident he can even as events get worse, the latter is stubborn knowing he’s right but confident that his demon will catch up and figure it out (even if begrudgingly so). They already have their happy ending, it can only get happier from here after they save the world.

I definitely recommend Radio Omens, it really is part of the golden triad of experiencing the story.

My personal recommendation: Book, Show, Radio

If you have a harder time starting books (be it reading or listening) then: Show, Book, Radio

Next on my list is the audiobook with the show cast, but I’ll take a break for a bit since every time I read/watch the original story I get so worked up I need to calm down for about a month or so :’)

What do YOU all think of radio omens? Please tell me or send me Radio Omens headcanons and opinions. I need them badly chomping at the bit here!

#good omens #radio omens #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #anathema device #agnes nutter #my writing #my words

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vanfleeter · 7 months ago

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Matched: Chapter 1 - The Reunion

Characters: Jake Kiszka x Thea Warnings: 18+. Drinking. Angst. Smut. Lust. Protected sex (p in v). Oral sex (m & f receiving). Fluff. (please let me know if I missed anything) Author's Note: Beginning of an adventure told through the eyes of Jacob.

When I met her, I found myself immediately attracted to her. Pathetic, I know. There was just something about her that drew me to her. Her eyes sparkle when she’s happy but show utter despair when she’s not. I fear if a flower were to look upon her sadness, it would wilt. But the life that shines through when she’s happy is like bathing in the sunlight, warm and comfortable. Her smile is contagious, you can’t help but smile when she does. Her laugh is melodious, like a song you want to listen to over and over again and never tire of hearing it. Her hair, long and dark as it flows over her shoulders and halfway down the spine of her back. Her skin lights me on fire in the best possible way. I crave to feel her skin against mine, tracing my fingers along her skin, tracing every curve and goosebump that raises as I make my mark on her.

I thought I was shit out of luck when I found out that Sam liked her too. Pursued her in every possible way until he finally got her to agree to go out on a date with him. I kept my distance whenever she came around, looked away when he’d kiss her. I tried to keep myself distracted from her, dated around–but no one compared to her. No was like her. I thought of her whenever I had myself buried inside of another woman. She consumed my thoughts at every waking hour, she even infiltrated my dreams.

Seeing her with Sam physically pained me. Did she make him feel the same way she makes me feel? Did he get butterflies whenever he saw her? Did his heart pound in his chest when she was near? Would his palms get sweaty? Did he ever stutter over his words when he spoke with her because of how nervous she makes him?

I would do anything to have her–but she’s with my brother. I can’t do that to him. I can’t be selfish, wanting her all to myself. He seems to genuinely like her, her him. He’s happy, and I don’t want to be the one to ruin that.

Fate, though, seemed to have different plans.

After being away for nearly a year, traveling around the boat, like I’ve always wanted to do–something my twin brother thought was insane, I had come back home to be told of the news that I used to be so desperate to hear.

“We broke up..” Sam says as he pops the top off of a beer bottle and hands it over to me. I gladly take it and drink some of it.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say as I set the bottle down on the table. “When did it happen?”

“A few weeks after you left on your boat trip,” He sits down across the table from me and takes a drink of his own beer. “But it ended on good terms.. We mutually decided to split. We fit better as friends.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

Sam nods his head, takes another drink of his beer. The bustle of the people in the bar toned down a little, finally. Between the loud music and the people raising their voices over it to be heard made my head want to explode.

I see his face light up and he waves someone over. “I didn’t think you were going to make it!” He says as he slides out of the booth to hug the incoming guest. I nearly choke on my beer when I see her walking over.

It’s only been a year but somehow she looks different. Her long hair was now shorter, stopping just above her breasts. Those seemed to have gotten bigger too.

Knock it off, Jake. Be respectful.

She stands there, dressed in a black leggings that accentuate her curves and she’s wearing a dark red sweater, a little low cut revealing the top half of her cleavage.

After their hug ends, Sam invites her to join us in the booth. She happily agrees and slides in beside him. My heart hammers in my chest, the same way it always has. I hadn’t thought of her the whole time I was away–or at least the last six months of my trip, I wasn’t. It only took me half the trip to finally decide to get over her. Now here she is, seated across from me, looking more beautiful than she did when I had last seen her.

“So, Jake..” I lift my eyes to look at her. The way she says my name, innocently enough, but still does something to me. “How was your boating trip? I saw a few things you’ve posted, looked like fun.”

“It was good,” I say as I take another drink. “Relaxing, it felt nice to get away from everything for a little while.”

She smiles and it just about kills me and I can’t fight the urge to smile back. “I’m glad you had a good time. Missed you though..”

She missed me?

“Feels good being back?”

“Yeah, it does.” I say.

Sam then excuses himself to the bathroom. He’s leaving us alone. Now the sweaty palms set in. I run them against the fabric of my jeans, willing the nerves to go away. It’s been over a year, almost two, since we were ever alone together. It was quiet between us. Neither one of us is speaking. I had no words, unsure of what to say exactly as the woman I once loved sits in the booth across from me.

Could this really be happening? Is fate trying its damndest to push us back together, though we have never been together? Or is this some cruel joke from the universe, bringing us together like this, only then to rip us apart and force me through the tragic heartbreak of seeing her loving on someone else?

“I saw that you made a stop along the coast of Florida back in June.” She finally says. “Not to sound stalkerish, but I saw you there.”

I looked up again, meeting her eyes. “You were there? You saw me?”

She nods her head. “I wanted to talk to you but uh, you seemed a bit preoccupied with a blonde–practically swallowing her tongue.” My cheeks burned in a flush and I ran a hand through my hair. She giggles and leans back in the booth. “I would’ve gone to see you the next day, but your boat was already gone.”

“You would have come to me?” I ask, not believing a word she was saying. She would have come to me. I barely remember being there. I don’t think I would have remembered her if she did come to me. I barely remember the blonde. I wouldn’t deny that if I woke up with her wrapped up around me, I wouldn’t have been upset. It’s everything I had longed for, to have her wrapped around my body, whimpering my name as I made her come apart at the mercy of my own hands.

“I should’ve gone sooner, maybe I would’ve caught you before you left.” She says, leaning forward on the table.. “After that, you were never seen or heard from. Next thing I know, today comes and Sam is calling me, inviting me out because you finally came back home.”

“And you still came?”

I can see the light blush in her cheeks. She nods her head and smiles. “After seeing you in Florida, you were all I could think about. Hoping you were safe but also hoping you would come back home.”

“I would have, eventually..”

“I see that now.”

My mouth presses into a tight lipped smile. Glancing around the bar, I notice that Sam hasn’t emerged from the bathroom. Pulling out my phone, I shot him a quick text.

‘Where are you?’

Just as quick, he response comes back. ‘Went home. Have some fun! ;)’

“Um well,” I cleared my throat. “Seems like Sam has ditched us.”

“You’re kidding..”

I shake my head and stuff my phone back into my pocket.

Come on, Jake.. Take your chance. She’s here. Don’t let her get away again.

“I’m going to go pay the tab, and then maybe we can get out of here?” I say, in hopes that she’ll say yes. When she nods her head, I begin to slide out of the booth and make my way up to the bar to close the tab. I’ll request the money later from Sam as payment for ditching us. Though I’m secretly hoping tonight won’t be all bad.

If she had shown up on my boat, I would have taken her with me. I would have taken her everywhere with me. So long as I had her and knew she was mine, I would have done it.

“I still have it,” I say. “The boat.”

Having not driven to the bar this evening, I had no other way home. So a walk is what we took back to my place. A place she’s never been. A place that has never been graced with her presence, everything inside untouched. Now she’s here, standing in my living room and holding a glass of wine.

“You brought it all the way here?”

I nod my head. Taking her hand, I pull her out of the living room and out the back door towards the pole barn. Her eyes grew twice their size when I pulled her through the door and flipped on the lights.

“This is so much bigger than I thought it was.” She says as she approaches the boat. She runs her fingers along the still glistening paint. “Don’t tell me you brought women on to this..”

I chuckle but shake my head. “No.. I didn’t think anyone was worth bringing onto this.” I find myself stepping behind her, placing my hands on her hips and drawing her close to me. “Except you..”

She turns her head to the side and lifts her eyes up to look at him. “Only me?”

I nod my head and pull away to lead her around to the back where the ladder is. I drag it down and help her climb up. “I was selfish.. Hoping that I’d find you out there somewhere and that I’d take you back here and make love to you like I’ve always wanted to.”

I caught her biting her bottom lip. She steps up to me and slowly wraps her arms around my neck. “What if we did that now?” She asks.

She.. I stood there, not believing the words that she had spoken. After everything that transpired; our meeting, her falling in love with Sam and then them dating, my heart longing to be hers and she to be mine, and then my leaving. Now she stands before me, suggesting the act of making love to be committed at this moment.

“It’s not the same without being on the waves…” I say with a sly smile.

She shrugs her shoulders and pulls away before walking around me. She ducks inside but peers back out. “We can make our own waves.”

Oh fuck.

I didn’t want to seem desperate and run right after her but at the same time I wanted to run after her. So I met in the middle and hastily went after her. I brought her to the bedroom and gently laid her out on the bed.

Is this really happening?

Her legs wrap around my waist and she pulls me down on top of her. Her breasts are fully pressed up against my chest. Leaning down, I press my lips to hers. My god, they feel so good. They were everything I imagined they would be. Soft and nearly smooth, save for a few breaks in the sensitive skin.

On instinct, my hips grind against her core and she moans into my mouth. I know I’m growing hard and I know she knows because I feel her hand snake its way between our bodies. She cups her hand around my clothed length and slowly starts to move her hand in circles. I groan and bury my face in her neck where I lick and I suck on her skin, leaving a noticeable mark.

I will always mark her so everyone knows that she belongs to me now.

Not being able to contain myself, I pull away and unbutton the rest of my shirt before sliding it off and tossing it somewhere in the room. She sits up as well and removes her top, revealing her braless chest to me. Immediately, I latch onto her left breast as I begin to massage her right one. I circle her nipple with my tongue before lightly nipping at it, which elicits a deep moan from within her.

Licking her nipples once more, I pull away again only to hook my fingers beneath the waistband of her leggings and drag them down her legs along with her panties. I find them to be black and all lace. I wonder if her bra matches, if she ever chose to wear it. Once I have her pants off, I move downwards, hooking her legs over my shoulders.

Her cunt is right there in front me and I couldn’t feel any luckier than I do at this moment. I bet I’m better than any lover she’s ever had.

“Jake…” I hear her whine. It makes my cock twitch inside my pants. Guess I know now that I like to hear her whine like that.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” I tease as I bring my hand to her center and slowly rub my thumb in circles over her clit.

She moans and reaches down with her hands to tug at my hair. “You know what..”

I smirk and move my face closer, removing my thumb and rubbing my nose against her clit instead. I flick out my tongue and lick upwards through her folds, as slowly as possible, just to drive her crazy.

I lick and I suck and I thrust my fingers inside of her until I have her legs clutching my head tightly between them. She comes undone at my mercy and I drink up every drop she has to offer.

Pulling away, I gently drop her legs to the bed and undo my belt before unbuttoning and shoving them down my legs. Digging into my wallet, I pull out a condom and slide it on my length. She moves up the bed to make herself more comfortable and I crawl after her, resting once again in between her legs.

In one swell thrust, I’m plunging deep inside of her, stretching her out. We both moan in pleasure as I bottom out. I’ve always dreamt of this, having my cock buried so far inside of her and making the most beautiful love to her. And now it’s becoming real. I start to move, thrusting in and out at a delicious pace. I come to rest my arms on either side of her head, tangling my fingers inside of her hair.

Her naked breasts bounce with each of my thrusts, they brush against my chest, which turns me on even more. I feel her hook her leg against my waist before I’m suddenly flipped onto my back and she’s on top of me, straddling me. She laughs at the surprised look on my face.

Fuck yeah I’m surprised. No woman has ever done that before.

She keeps the pace I had going, lifting herself up on her knees before letting herself drop back right back down. I can tell she’s close as her walls clench around me.

“Soak me, Thea..” I bring my hand between us and rub her throbbing clit. Her fingers dig into my chest and thrust my hips upwards, pushing myself deeper. My name falls from her mouth as her release coats every inch of me and continues to ride me until her orgasm is through.

Before I even had a chance to register how beautiful she looked, she was off of me in a second and rolling off the condom. Her mouth swallows me and she begins working me to my own release.

“Fuck..” I clutch the sheets in my hands as my legs shake. I didn’t even know I could do that.

Soon she has me coming to my release, the orgasm washing cleanly over me. Her tongue. Goddamn. She licks me from shaft to tip, not missing a single drop of my own release.

Once she is finished and my orgasm subsides into nothing, she crawls back up to me and curls into my side, draping her leg across my waist.

“That was… Wow..” I breathed, my chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as I worked to relax my body. She giggles against my chest and begins to draw little circles on my skin.

“Jake?” I hum in acknowledgment, waiting for her to continue. “Had we seen each other again in Florida, would you have taken me with you?”

I nod my head and look down at her. “In a heartbeat.”

There was a part of me that couldn’t believe that this is all real, that if I were to wake up tomorrow morning, she would be gone and I would have dreamed all of this. A dream that I never would want to wake from, because she’s here and she’s in my arms.

____________________________________________________

general tag list:

@watchingover-hypegirl @losfacedevil @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @writingcold @jaketlove @mackalah @lexii-nv-c @em-gvf01 @katiegvf @joshkiszkaenthusiast @takenbythemadness @jakekiszkasmommy @objectsinspvce @gvfmarge @heckingfrick @bluemeadows77 @laneygvf @sacredmachine @gvfpal @killerqueengvf @jaketlover @jordinlkiszka @alwaysonthemend @hellowgoodbye @anythingforjtk @hi-hi-hello11 @anthemofgvf @gretasfallingsky @songbirds-sweet @wildbluesorbit @klarxtr @stardustsecret @sunandthemoontwinflames @everyglowinthetwilightknows @sinsofstardust @sparrowofthedawnsworld @josh-iamyour-mama @dannys-dream @peaceloveunitygvf @dayumclarizzel @thetroublegetssoloud71 @jakebrainrot @gretavanfleetmichelle

Want to be added to my general tag list? Please reach out and I'll be happy to add you! ♡

If you are missing from the list, I do apologize--I may have missed you or tumblr won't let me tag you! But please reach out and let me know if you do not see yourself and I will work on getting that fixed!

#jake kiszka #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka smut #gvf #jake kiszka angst #jake kiszka fluff #matched

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sporesgalaxy · 1 year ago

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PLS.. share thoughts on zoro n sanji relationship........ i dont ship them but they are so. SOOOOO.

THEY MAKE ME CRAZZYYYYY. and honestly the way their dynamic make me insane doesnt even HAVE to be read as romantic. But i feel so much crazier when i see them shipped and its not even capitalizing on all the shit theyve got going on.

So anyways here's my Zoro and Sanji retrospective I spent several hours on I guess. As if it's my fault.

▪︎

When Zoro and Sanji meet, Sanji has given up on his dream to see the All-Blue in favor of supporting Zeff.

Zoro is still throwing himself at his dream to be the greatest swordsman with all his might, and nearly dies to Mihawk for it.

Initially, from Sanji's outside perspective, it seems like a waste of precious life.

Zoro promising never to disappoint Luffy when he's on death's door clearly makes Sanji reconsider, though.

•••

The next time Sanji and Zoro really interact after Zoro's defeat is when they go after Nami at Arlong Park.

And the first thing Sanji learns about Zoro is.......that he's willing to hit girls!

To Sanji, Zoro seems like he's willing to turn on someone-- and worse, willing to hurt a girl-- just because he's angry for an apparent betrayal that no one has any concrete proof of yet. What a jerk! Surely that earned him the dig Sanji makes about his loss to Mihawk.

Unbeknownst to Sanji, however, Zoro has already bet his life on Nami's friendship being genuine by almost drowning himself.

Zoro doesn't want to bother explaining this to some stupid new guy who's willing to side with a stranger purely on the basis of her gender. Clearly, Sanji doesn't understand ANYTHING about this crew, and should just stay out of things.

And so their initial mutual dislike is born!!!

They tend to bicker a lot after this, but I think the next time Sanji brings up Mihawk is in Alabasta.

Once again, Sanji is hitting below the belt because he's convinced Zoro's done something nigh-unforgivable: doubting Luffy. It's a reminder that their rivalry at this point is still built on genuinely misjudging each others' character.

Now at this point I've run out of my 100 daily shounen jump chapters so I can't find for you the PRECISE moment thet are mutually like "yeah ok fine you're a DECENT guy I GUESS" in Alabasta but I think it's the clock tower maybe? The point is that the whole crew has to work together VERY HARD to defeat Crocodile and it shows Sanji and Zoro that they can count on each other to support the crew, at least.

Their improved relationship is apparent in one of my fave downtime scenes so far: Sky Island jungle dinner :)

I...don't think we've seen Sanji ask for help cooking before this point?? Much less from Zoro. So I fucking love that. And Zoro goes along with it, even though he complains!!!!! It shows perfectly how they now trust each other to help take care of the crew.

Another one if my fave examples of them counting on each other in a kind of funny way is when they're fighting Zombie Oars.

Zoro pushes Sanji's buttons on purpose to get him to go along with it, and it works. But it also shows that Zoro was counting on him to give him a boost! The middle panel could even imply Zoro jumped before Sanji agreed to anything, which really proves how much they're willing to couny on each other now.

Which of course brings us to the conclusion of Thriller Bark and a WILD curveball in their relationship: thes self-sacrificial x2 combo.

What Sanji does here floored me. At this point not only does he trust Zoro as a part of the crew, but he considers Zoro a more irreplacable member of the crew than himself.

And Zoro refuses to let him.

Now, we know from his initial fight with Mihawk that Zoro being willing to kill himself doesn't mean he considers his life unimportant. Zoro and Luffy are both unafraid of death, because they have to be willing to die to even have a ghost of a chance of achieving their dreams.

That's why Zoro chooses to take on Luffy's pain and why he is able to survive it.

Zoro's sacrifice obviously means a lot to Sanji. When Zoro refuses to acknowledge his sacrifice, Sanji goes along with that and covers for him.

And of course he understands. The pain Sanji mentions here that Zoro is trying to spare Luffy from is the exact same pain that lead Sanji to give up on his dream of finding the All-Blue in favor of trying to repay his life debt to Zeff. Sanji wouldn't wish the guilt he feels for Zeff's leg on anybody.

Sanji shows a lot of concern for Zoro after this point up until the time skip!! He calls Zoro a hero to Brook, and tries to help Zoro deal with his excess injuries without drawing attention to them. Zoro is of course surly about it, because he's frustrated by his own limits. He got a taste of what Luffy goes through and it just made him more desperate to become strong enough to lighten Luffy's load.

I find their sort-of reset after the timeskip hilarious.

Sanji was already feeling deeply insecure when he got sent to the island of question your gender and sexuality-- things Sanji clearly considers very important to his identity. Since he can't bear to question himself, he relies on reacting combatively to things that challenge his masculinity. Kicking them, mostly. I'm sure he picked that up from Zeff.

Meanwhile, Zoro is THE most traditionally Masculine member of the crew besides Sanji by a long shot (Franky is in 3rd place as a self-professed freak with blue hair and pronouns who refuses to wear pants). Zoro is buffer than Sanji. And seemingly more stoic than Sanji. And Zoro has cool scars and uses three swords and his muscles are bigger and half the time he's not even wearing a shirt.

This masculinity contest between them was present before the timeskip too, but it's really the only good explanation for the extremeness of Sanji's sour attitude the moment he lays eyes on post-timeskip Zoro and remarks, aloud, "He's back. Like I really care..." after how much appreciation Sanji showed for Zoro's sacrifice before the timeskip.

Sanji WOULD be annoyed at his crewmate's seemingly effortless, unshakeable masculinity after two years of doggedly avoiding non-consensual crossdressing and constantly fighting for his life to outrun gay thoughts.

Zoro's side of things so far post-timeskip seems a bit less wound-up than Sanji. Zoro never takes an insult sitting down, and also just enjoys making snide remarks, so if Sanji's going to argue with him there's no reason for Zoro not to argue back.

This is why I am a gay Zoro truther, even if that gayness has nothing to do with anyone on the crew. Because its fucking hilarious if Sanji is one-sidedly trying to out-hetero-masculinity a literal gay man.

#1pc discussion #1pc #asks #zosan #1pc lb #zs

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admiringlove · 1 year ago

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part one.

[19:12] . . .

suna thinks he's lost his mind. or maybe, you've taken all his senses with you when you left that night. maybe he's slowly going crazy—sort of like the main character of that one show you love to watch. the schizophrenic lady slowly losing her senses but not understanding what's going on.

perhaps calling himself crazy would be an overstatement. but you had him confused and dazed, nonetheless.

he thinks he's done something wrong. but he doesn't know what it is. why else would you leave in the middle of the fucking night after the things you two had done together? he's sitting in the living room, one hand in his hair and phone in the other. he's texting osamu, telling him about your amorous endeavors from that night. it had been roughly two weeks since then. and if he was correct(and not borderline insane), you hated his guts.

he wasn't sure why, though. had he not performed well? when the two of you had done "it", did he not please you? what was the issue here? you didn't sound like you hated it, in fact, you sounded quite the opposite throughout.

his phone rings. it's osamu.

"hey-"

"you did what with [y/n]?!" suna has to move the phone away from his ears for that one. his eyebrows knot as he puts the call on speaker, not understanding why osamu of all people is having such an outburst. it's usually atsumu who's the annoying one with no sense of rationality.

"we um," rintarō's face flushes red. he even hides his face with his palms, even though his grey-haired best friend can't see him, "we had sex."

"oh my fuckin' god," the younger miya twin throws more profanities on the phone, but rintarō chooses to tune them out. but then osamu continues, "do ya even know what ya've done? are ya stupid? do ya have no common-fucking-sense? sunarin, for fuck's sake, how can ya be less emotionally intelligent than a fuckin' celery?"

"stop swearing at me, you jackass!" the middle-blocker picks up his phone, almost yelling into it. he then narrows his eyes, lips pursed as he asks, "what exactly did i do wrong?"

"ya do fuckin' realize," suna assumes what osamu's doing is taking a bite out of an apple between his sentences, "ya had a girlfriend a month ago. a pretty fuckin' serious one, at that."

"oh," suna's train of thought stops. oh, shit. fuck, fuck, fuck. what the hell had he done? oh my god.

"yeah, 'oh'. what the bloody hell were ya thinking?" osamu swears again. but this time, rintarō thinks he might've deserved it. all of it. you ignoring him, osamu swearing at him, that nagging feeling at the back of his throat. and that pang in his chest when you left with your things at four o'clock in the fucking morning.

"ya do realize, [y/n] prolly feels more like shit than you do. they haven't spoken to me or 'tsumu after that night. i thought they dropped off the face of the earth until akaashi-san said they were havin' some kinda crisis so they were busy. turns out [y/n] hasn't been showin' up for lectures either," osamu drones on for a few minutes. then it strikes suna. he hadn't even bothered to give you an explanation about why he broke up with his girlfriend.

or actually, she broke up with him. because of you. his mind wavers at the memories of that night where she called him to the local diner to tell him off. she even told everyone it was a mutual break-up and that it didn't work out. he was just glad she fell out of love with him before he accidentally broke her heart. she had every right to do what she did. he was a total, complete twat who didn't know what he was doing. he had hurt so many people, because in actuality, he was just as emotionally stupid as atsumu.

to be honest, even atsumu isn't this stupid. suna has to give that guy some credit.

"what do you even feel about [y/n], sunarin? do ya like them? or didja use them 'cause you were bored 'n wanted ta get yer dick wet?" the accusation makes the middle-blocker wince.

"jesus christ, give me some credit, dude. of course i like them. you know, i never told any of you this, but michi broke up with me because of [y/n]."

"wait, hold on, what? what the fuck?"

"yeah, um," suna hates admitting that he's wrong. gosh, he has to, though. he's done enough. he doesn't want to hurt you any longer, "apparently, i was in love with [y/n] all along and didn't know it."

"oh my god," osamu literally gives up. rintarō can hear his friend facepalm through the phone, "yer such a screwed up person, man. didja even bother telling them this?"

"about that-"

"ya didn't tell 'em. wow. what else could i expect from someone with the emotional range of a fuckin' goldfish? just cut the damn call, already. i got shit to do. and go tell [y/n] all of this or i'll break yer legs the next time i see ya." beep, beep, beep.

he actually ended the call himself. huh, suna thinks to himself. but then he tosses his phone into the pocket of his sweats, pulls on a hoodie, and leaves his apartment.

he's not coming back without making it up to you. no fucking way. all the while that he's driving to your place, he curses at himself for being such a complete and utter dunce. and when he finally stands outside your door, his hands are sweaty and shaking. he's never even been this nervous for a match.

he knocks thrice. dum, dum, dum. then twice, dum, dum. then once, dum.

this was how you guys had communicated in high school. when something went terribly wrong and you needed each other's company. three, two, one. slowly. this was how he'd knocked on the door of the broom closet after school when you were inside having a panic attack. it was how you'd knocked on his bedroom door after they'd lost the match to karasuno in second year.

"go away, rin," you croaked from the inside, "i don't wanna see you."

"'course you don't. i'm an asshole," he says, "but i know where the spare key is and i'll trespass on you if you don't open this door right now."

the door opens a mere second later. you stand there in an oversized tee and shorts, hair a complete mess and eyes glassy. your under-eyes had swollen up too. this was all... because of him?

"the fuck do you want now? more sex?" you ask crudely. he almost scoffs, but he's clearly in the wrong here. you were his best friend. you had the right to abuse him like this because he'd used you. hell, you should be saying more than things like this.

"i'm sorry," he tries to hold your hand, but you move away from him. he feels his heart crack and his throat close up, but he continues, "do you know why michi and i broke up?"

"oh god, " you scoff, "if this is why you're here. please leave."

"listen to me," he holds your shoulders. you visibly look agitated and angry. you have every right to, of course. but you have to hear this. he has to say this. he goes on, "michi left me. i didn't leave her but she left me. don't you want to know why?"

"let me guess, she got fed up with your piece-of-shit attitude?" you walk away, to the kitchen as you turn on the coffee-maker. he chases after you, grabbing you by your shoulders again. you almost push him off.

"because i love you, goddamnit!" he shakes you lightly, "do you understand? she wasn't you. she understood that from the very beginning! that's she why left me."

"oh," you blink slowly, drinking it in, "oh."

"'oh'? that's all you have to say?"

"oh please, rintarō," you roll your eyes, "i've been in love with you since freshman year of high-school and you didn't fucking notice. you are genuinely the most stupid person i have ever met. you know, atsumu knew from the very beginning. he's an idiot, sure, but he's actually really smart when he wants to. osamu knows too- why are you looking at me like i'm a terrorist or something?"

oh. what the heck?

"you were in love with me for five years and didn't even bother saying anything? even the fucking twins know? you do realize, this whole thing could've been avoided if you had just told me you liked me before i said okay to that date with michi a few months ago."

"hey, you don't get to come here and tell me i've done something wrong when you realized you were in love with me because michi, of all people, told you. you didn't have the balls to do that part on your own? instead, you come and sleep with me-"

"i thought that made it very clear that i liked you, come on-"

"absolutely not."

"not even a little bit?"

"no."

"oh come on," he nudges as you pour yourself coffee, "maybe a little?"

you smile. he mentally lets out a huge sigh.

"fuck you, yeah, maybe a little," you mutter. he wants to punch the air and kick it and jump around as if he's five-years-old again. because what the hell? he bickered with you and that's all it took to make you smile. holy shit, he thinks.

"go on a date with me," he slides his arms around your waist in the kitchen. you chuckle, holding back a laugh, "no."

"come on, please?" he whines into your ear, placing a chaste kiss on your shoulder, "just five minutes of your time next weekend. i promise it'll be worth it."

"five minutes?" you look back, an eyebrow raised, "you sure? i'll put a timer on my phone and everything."

"shut up," he tells you. then, you grin, "make me."

notes: then they kiss, kiss, fell in love.

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miwiheroes · 2 months ago

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Hi welcome to miwiheroes <3

*australian accent* 'Ello this is Eli, president of miwiheroes club and I realised I never made an intro post, also this is a little masterpost where you can find all the analysis/ byler rambling posts without having to scrolls through my account :D

I'm 18 years old

Not very active at the moment because I have just started university

he/him

I may look like an aggressively straight man but no one knows i'm actually hyperfixated on shipping two queer guys from a sci-fi netflix show

I'm a capricorn, infp, bisexual and trans ftm

i'm in quite a few fandoms but rn im hyperfixated on byler so... i'm also into the grishaverse fandom, good omens, dan and phil, + marauders

i'm from england

my spotify is 'figflower' and: Here are my byler playlists!!

i never used to write analysis on film but thx byler tumblr because i've been missing out

if you were wondering, my favourite characters from stranger things are (in this order): will, mike, hopper and el <3 okay see ya

MY ANALYSES:

(i will update these as i make them. my more massive analyses are highlighted in blue)

Confirmation that Mike jumping into the quarry was about Will

Milkvan's conflict, Byler, and the concept of understanding

Byler and the insane amount of Closet Imagery

Season 1 Mike is extremely queer-coded

The most important 'Will Voice' scene

Mike's bedroom is insane

FULL airport scene analysis Season 4

What if Mike's gay from the beginning of S5 like Will in S4?

You're not delusional: What I noticed when I wasn't a byler

Thinking about the monologue…

Mike is clearly thinking about Will in the Snow Ball scene

Light is symbolic for truth = byler endgame

MY FICS:

My AO3 Account: miwiheroes

vibrant days (caution to the breeze) - 3 chapters

Mike and Will's relationship has been secret for 2 months. Neither of them want to bring it up, but things build and build until it becomes more of a burden than just a little mutual understanding. Will's growing up (and getting drunk) and it's impossible for Mike to stay in the same place forever, with words always on the tip of his tongue.

aka mike and will are hiding their relationship and avoid talking about hard subjects

is my timing that flawed? - 2 chapters

In the aftermath of a harrowing escape from the Upside Down, Mike and Will grapple with physical and emotional wounds. Faced with Will's new plan and doubt of what's real and what's not, Mike must confront reality and something that he had never been able to truly control.

aka wound cleaning fic + a devastating cliffhanger + Will not knowing what's real and what's not

it's rotten work (not to me. not if it's you) - 2 chapters

Ten years after everything, and Will hasn't been able to shake a debilitating fear of anything medical-related. So when the only option and smart thing to do is get a blood test from the hospital, Mike is sure to take the time to be there for him.

aka will needs a blood test but has a phobia of needles and mike takes time off work to support him

My WIP: what you really want (Season 5 speculation/ absolute cringefail pining)

Have fun! And if you don't ship byler ur allowed to interact but if you want to hate on it, please don't interact! I'll just delete any hate because I personally think there is no space for homophobia or negativity on my page.

You'll also find 0 byler doubt here. I don't want to worry people. So ily <3

#byler #byler endgame #byler nation #stranger things #mike wheeler #will byers #anti mileven

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laniissocool · 2 years ago

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starboy

pairing(s): jack champion x actress!fem!reader

warnings: none really ? she/her pronouns, fem reader, cursing, mentions of stabbing and scream VI spoilers i think ? also not proof-read and lowercase intended !

a/n: hi everyone !! so this is my first fic and i do plan on doing a second part. i really am more of a reader than i am a writer so please leave criticism in the replies !! also instead of y/n or reader i use just a blank (___) so let me know if i should change that and i dont know whether this is fluff or angst or like in the middle ? i’d say its a normal story but wtvr !! hope you enjoy !

you made your way onto set. you walked with your tote bag thrown over your shoulder, phone in hand as you walked pretty fast without looking up. knowing how clumsy you were, you were surprised you hadn’t bumped into anything yet. or maybe anyone. you got a text and opened as fast as someone could blink as soon as you saw the name.

jackkk💫:

R U Coming to set yet?🎥

you:

omw !! ready 4 me 2 stab u ?🔪🔪🩸

jackkk💫:

As ready as I’ll ever be😵‍💫

you asked jack if he wanted you to show him how to turn on all lowercase, but he refused. he said typing like someone’s dad is cool.

you caught yourself smiling at your phone before turning it off and looking around as you walked.

a few minutes later you made it to your trailer. you walked in and turned on the light, cracking your knuckles then tossing your bag on the small couch you had. you took your phone back out and texted jack.

you:

i’m here in my trailer, come get me ghostface👻👻

seen at 1:14

you thought it was sweet that there was a mutual thing between you and jack where it was completely needed and necessary to end all texts with an emoji, if either of you couldn’t find one you’d have to call or send an audio message.

about an hour later, everyone got their costumes on and ready to film. you were so thankful that the character you played, Elena, gave off the same vibes as you, so, you could dress her yourself. sometimes even with your own clothing. maybe it was your face ? you were very pretty, after all. a kind of rarer pretty, like a magical pretty ? but it definitely was not just your conventional attractive pretty. everyone got on set and you saw jack for the first time that day. you ran up to him and hugged him, your arms wrapped around his waist, in a friendly way. he hugged you back and you pulled away after a few seconds.

“ y’know, i think you’re a pretty good-looking killer “ you said to him with a soft smirk.

you guys always flirted with eachother, not even realizing.

“ why thank you “ he said in a weird accent.

before you started filming the prop guys had to fix some stuff so you guys got a quick break. you walked over to jack’s trailer, which he wasn’t in and sat down eating some gummies you found in your bag. after a few minutes jack comes inside without making noise since the door was cracked open already. he closes the door behind him silently and sits right next to you. he peeked over onto your phone as you played your favorite game. even though it wasn’t really fun to watch, he was insantly interested in anything you were. you didn’t even realize he was there because of how into it you were, besides, he didnt make a sound. you noticed when he reached over to your bag of Haribos to get one. you jumped and almost dropped your phone.

“ shit, jack ! fuck ! you scared the life out of me “ you said with your hand that held your phone up to your heart.

he burst out into a fit of laughter.

“ your- “ he couldn’t even speak without laughing. after about a minute or two of him laughing wiping his tears and you staring at him like he’s insane he finally says something.

“ your face, ____ your face ! you looked at me like i’d just stabbed you ! “ he said, still with a smile from ear to ear on his face.

you looked at him with an unimpressed look on your face, scoffing at him as you bit back a smile.

“ it wasn’t even that funny, idiot “ you said as you ran your tongue across your teeth trying not to smile. he saw right through you.

“ you wanna laugh so badly, don’t you ? ” he said as he looked down at you. you looked up at him, with a soft smile on your face. you laughed a little too as you had to give in. the room went silent and awkward as you’d looked at each others faces for a few seconds. unconciously, you both leaned in. you looked at his lips and your full lips parted a bit. your heart was pounding but you didn’t know that his was too. your lips touched and your hand travels up his chest to the back of his neck, sliding up to grab a handful of his curly hair. you pulled him closer and before you knew it you were turning your head into the kiss. both hands around his neck now as you tugged lightly on his brown locks. then you realized. you really realized. you were close to, but not quite making out with jack champion. he was your starboy. you’d never believed it, even if you told yourself from this morning that you kissed jack champion for a good, 30 seconds, you wouldn’t believe it.

you opened your eyes and they widened, looking back at him. his cheeks a flushed, rosy color. as were yours. you opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out.

you got up and he did as well after you, towering over you. he looked at you with eyes that were saying that he wanted you to say something. anything. you couldn’t. physically, nothing could come out. you had no idea what was going on, you never thought of jack in that way. or, well, in the way that you would kiss him for almost a minute straight kind of way. you walked out practically running to your trailer.

all jack could do was watch, he was frozen and just as, if not even more shocked than you were. as you walked you remembered all the times you were around him. you’d get butterflies. he could be in the same room as you and you’d get butterflies but you’d labeled it as ‘nervousness’ for ‘no reason’. but it’d only ever happen around him. him. then you realized, the non-purpose flirting, the butterflies, the need to be around him. you were inlove with him ! god, how didn’t you notice before. that’s why everyone would look at you too with funny eyes whenever you’d flirt without knowing, thinking it was a friendship thing that only you two did around each other.

everyone probably definitely knew. they knew how you felt before you did. you opened the door to your trailer and locked it. you sat down as thoughts raced through your mind. how would you tell him ? how would you tell jenna and devyn and liana ? did he like it ? did he mean it how you meant it ? was it just a kiss for him ? .. is jack inlove with you too ?

#jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion x y/n #jack champion x fem!reader #jack champion x actress!reader

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blurglesmurfklaine · 3 months ago

Note

4, 7, 9, 12 for the ask game <3 (all glee if possible)

Yay, thanks for these Crys! 7 was previously answered so I went ahead and skipped it :)

4. say something nice about a ship you don't ship (it can be another ship in your fandom, a mutual's OTP, etc)

I don’t ship St. Berry, but I am of the opinion that if it couldn’t be Finn, I’m glad it was Jesse. He and Rachel really are two sides of the same coin and they seem to love each other very deeply and I hope they’re happy together!

9. a ship that isn't your OTP but that you enjoy

Samcedes 😭 they are my emotional support heterosexuals your honor. But also, they are two genuinely good people who care deeply about one another samcedes you will always be endgame to me

12. compliment someone else in your fandom

Okay this is gonna be a lot because I AM going to do all the active fandoms I’m in! So under the read more!

Glee:

First of all you, Crys! And @backslashdelta You are both so talented with your gif making that it kind of drives me insane.

@kurtsascot is probably one of the most talented writers I’ve ever had the pleasure of interacting with. I feel so lucky that we’ve gotten her so late in the game! I feel similarly about @rockitmans and @thelegendofjenna

@esilher @twinkkurt and @justgleekout make the most BEAUTIFUL fanart I’ve ever seen, and I also wanna thank @carsonphillips for klainegifs and keeping the fandom interesting with their events!

@somefeministtheatrepls is not only an amazing friend but the most thoughtful beta reader and honestly partner in my writing?? Writing is much less stressful because I don’t even worry about things being clunky or weird because I know her ass will help that chapter SHINE

@nancysgillians @kurthummeldeservesbetter also get shoutouts because they are wonderful people to have in your life

Newsies:

I could fill novels with how much I love and appreciate @somanywords! Their amazing storytelling and also volunteering to make art for the MiniBang I hosted earlier this year??? On top of listening to my insane ramblings?? They don’t make em like this anymore folks

@one-paper-bag is also SOOOOOO incredibly talented with their art, and their lovely comments on my Spider-Man AU keep me going (on GOD we are gonna get you another chapter ON GOD!!!!)

@livesincerely and @agentsnickers are some of the most prolific and INSANELY TALENTED writers I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading, and also genuinely lovely people! You know when you see someone on your dash and ur just like “wow. I hope they are having a FANTASTIC day and life. They deserve one.”

@piedoesnotequalpi and @regina-cordium are also so incredibly FUNNY and have the most correct takes on every single newsie and that’s on that ❤️

911:

I’m relatively new to this fandom, so I don’t know a ton of people yet, but there are def people I see on my dash that I have noticed!

@cranberrymoons @lesbianrobin @insertlovelyperson have written some of my absolute FAAAAAAVE fics! I feel like they really have a handle on who the characters are in a way that’s true to the show and kind of difficult to pull off!

@texasbama makes amazing gifs and honestly anytime I see her on my dash I laugh bc genuinely she’s so funny. Also on the list of hilarious contributors is @buckgettingstruck

And a couple of people who I think have genuinely great vibes are @buckera @leathercouchcushion and @yaz-the-spaz

And of course I can’t talk about 911 without a second mention to @regina-cordium who puts up with all my Texas!Buddie nonsense andbansndbsk

Okay yeah so that was a LOT sorry!! I didn’t mean for it to get so long BUT I do mean every single word! I’m really blessed to have met so many amazing people through fandom and my experience on this site has been nothing less than superb because of yall ❤️

#ask #asks #cryscendo

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bunsreverie · 9 months ago

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I spent hours yesterday spamming my close friends on Instagram about Ethan and Feng Xun and comparing them (I’m so normal about them.) (My mutuals think I am insane.) SO I’ve wrote a bunch of headcanons for them, prompt being what kind of a boyfriend I think they would be/what they would be like in a relationship.

This isn’t a rq, just me self indulgent rambling. I will post Ethan’s later because I’m so tired.

. ࣪ ˖ Feng Xun:

• My first thought about Feng Xun as a boyfriend is actually that he’s definitely husband material. He’s quite polite and genuine, so you can’t convince me otherwise!

• He’s very independent, lonely even. His sister going into a coma along with him traveling by his lonesome has made him grow accustomed to it, and so I think he might come across as a little more distant than he means, at first. You’ll eventually find that this is just a wall he puts up, and he’s much more affectionate and clingy than you ever would have originally guessed.

• He doesn’t mean to, but I feel that he is probably just full of guilt and regret over what happened with his sister, and fears something will happen to his partner or that he may lose them too. He knows what happened wasn’t his fault, however he regrets not being there for his sister more I am sure, and I think this affects him a lot more than he might let on.

• We also know he canonly cannot see the future of those he’s close with clearly. I think that’s why he may act brute with Li Ling and pretend be harsh with him- he cannot get too close as he wants to be able to see his future clearly and have the knowledge that he can protect him- that goes for you, too. He may purposely give you a lot of space in the relationship at first, because he is concerned that he won’t be able to see your future clearly and protect you. He won’t admit that however.

• Essentially Feng Xun is afraid of losing you, wether that be due to him not being able to feel like he can let himself get close to you, or because he lets himself get too close and his vision of your future becomes bleary and unclear. He can’t lose you too, not after basically losing his sister. (I know she isn’t dead, but she’s not conscious so you get what I mean.)

• Because of his sister, he is much more conscious and careful over things he does and says to you. The last thing he would want to do is make you feel ignored or unloved and for something to happen to you, it’s his biggest fear. He realizes that being distant out of fear, he cannot possibly make you feel as loved as you deserve, so his mindset will eventually shift and he will open up. Just be patient, I think Feng Xun is alot more complex than you might would think at a single glance at his character. He would be an incredible boyfriend if he just let his guard down some.

• Feng Xun’s love is gentle. Almost cautious. He’s just afraid of making you uncomfortable in any way is all, and he will always ask first before he does anything. It almost agitates you. “You mind if I just lay my head on your shoulder and take a nap real quick?” He will ask, as if he does not do that constantly. That’s another thing, he can not keep his hands off you. He’s touchy, and clingy, but he’ll only show that in private. Again, he’s afraid of losing you. I think physical touch is definitely his love language; it comforts him- and you, so it’s a win win.

• He particularly enjoys resting his head on your chest or you resting your head on his, especially after a long day or particularly difficult job of his. He’s not hard to please in the slightest- to him, no matter what’s wrong, everything feels completely fine and okay when he can just hold you. When you’re not out hanging around his neighborhood with him or off traveling somewhere with him, the two of you can be found curled up in his bed- probably alongside a few cats.

• He’s extremely smart and observant, so good luck hiding literally anything from him. He knows what’s going to happen before it even happens after all, so you can’t hide anything. Just.. don’t even bother lying. Feng Xun is level headed and has a very strong mental capacity, so if something is wrong just tell him and he swears he’s gonna fix it for you. I actually feel that if something is wrong, he’d be the best person to talk to.

• His calm demeanor makes him incredibly easy to talk to and trust. I do not think there would be a such thing as arguments between the two of you- if there was, it’d have to be something major. Either way, if Feng Xun ever perceived an argument in the future, he would probably be able to prevent it before it even happened. The only good reason that I could think of causing him to get upset with you, is if you blatantly lie to him. There’s no reason to, because he already knows how things will play out, anyways. I think honesty is incredibly important to him, he is a man of his word after all and he would like if you could be the same. That is all he asks for, really.

• When he’s not out working a job trying for some extra cash or napping, Feng Xun loves taking you out places. Don’t expect anything too expensive or fancy, but he knows a few really nice spots he thinks you might like. Feng Xun likes taking you to get takeout at his favorite restaurants, and showing you his favorite spots around the neighborhood. Wether be the abandoned house the stray animals he feeds lives, or some little wildflower field he only just recently discovered. He just really wants to share every little thing with you, and I think that’s super cute. He may not be the richest guy but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try his hardest to make you feel spoiled, and cared for.

• Just remind him that you don’t care about wether he spends money on you, it’s the quality time that counts. He feels the same way- He does not care no matter how bad things get, because if he just has you, then everything is fine. He believes that the both of you are destined to be together, and why argue with fate?

#dislyte #dislyte feng xun #feng xun #dislyte x reader #x reader

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tojisbbygworl · 1 year ago

Text

Just For The Night - Hobie Brown x Black!Punk!Reader pt. 1

Summary: Two anarchists meet at a concert and decide that one night just isn't enough...but one night is all they have.

Characters: Mentioned - Gwen, Pavtir, Miguel. Featured - Miles, Hobie

Words: 3,694

Tags: 18+, 3rd person, Mutual Pining, Suggestive Content (Smut in part 2), Hobie is Whipped, Aged-Up Characters (Miles/Gwen is 17), Reader and Hobie are 21+, Mention of Marijuana, Canon Divergence (Doesn't follow ATSV events/Miles is not an anomaly/Hobie's universe is present day instead of 1978), Hobie and Miles are like brothers, I tried my best with the British slang

author's note: The Hobie brainrot is real. I wasn't planning on writing for ATSV at all, but some of the fanfictions just weren't scratching the itch and you have to be the change you want to see in the world and all that other shit. I don't think that Miles would listen to Rico Nasty, but I definitely think Hobie would. I had to write something putting the two together like it just makes SENSE TO ME!

You don’t have to listen to the music at all I’m not even sure if I want to keep it in there. Anyway, here's the story. More notes abt me at the end.

AO3 version part 2 epilogue

"You tryna' go to this concert with me?"

Hobie stopped playing with his guitar pick to look Miles in the eyes. The day was over, for them at least. Miguel was satisfied with their work and they didn't have to deal with him until it was time to be called back into action. Gwen had already gone back home, something about her band, and Pav wasn't on the schedule for today. It was one of the only times where Miles and Hobie could really work as partners and they cherished it.

Miles was especially glad to have Hobie all to himself, as he felt this question would be a bit more awkward around the others. He waited until they were grabbing something to eat in the food court so he was sure anyone who would overhear his question couldn't. He had always been a fan of this artist, but never really embraced it in fear of embarrassment or rejection.

"Who's playin'?" Hobie asked him, already knowing he was going to say yes no matter what Miles said. He saw him as a little brother, and he was happy that he wanted to spend time together outside of work.

"Her name is Rico Nasty." Hobie raised a brow. Either this artist is only popular in America, or he didn't have her in his own universe. He had never heard of her before.

"Oh? Who's that?" Miles lit up like a fire, excited to show Hobie something new. He hoped to whoever was listening that he would enjoy her.

To say that seeing Hobie begin to head bop with his headphones in filled Miles with joy was an understatement. As the song continued, He began making a stank face and looked at him. He was enjoying himself, clearly, and Miles knew he had him hooked.

When the song ended, Hobie took out his headphones and gave Miles his phone back. "Yeah, I'll go with you."

Miles throws a small celebration. He pumps his fist and says "Yes!" dancing for a second before stopping and clearing his throat. He turns back around to see Hobie looking at him amused.

"Am I the only one going?" He asks him, biting into a burger.

Miles sits back down across him and sighs. He looks down at the table. "Yeah," he says, dejected. Hobie gives him a worried look, which Miles is quick to dismiss. "Oh, no! It's nothing bad. I just...I don't really know anyone else who would come with me and it seemed like music you would like..." He trails off for a minute. Hobie urges him on by gesturing his hand. "And I kind of wanted an actual adult with me because I'm really nervous and kind of scared and I needed someone I could trust completely. You fit all the criteria."

Hearing that made Hobie insanely happy. He gives Miles a sideways smile. "That warms me up inside, you know that?"

Miles lets out a small, breathy, laugh. "Yeah, yeah."

"So," Hobie wipes his hands with each other and takes a sip of his drink. "What's the scene gonna be like?"

"Well...you, really. Your whole aesthetic."

Hobie raises a brow. "Oh yeah?"

As a connoisseur of moshing, in Hobie's opinion, the venue was perfect. Big enough to fit scores of people, too small to have any personal space.

It was completely painted black with a black floor as well. Purple, green, and red stage lights shone over the thickening crowd. It was already so hot, a stark contrast from the chilly Brooklyn night air.

That day, Miles had visited Hobie's apartment to get dressed. Hobie gave him loads of clothes and accessories to choose from. Miles, unfortunately, had no sense of style, and everything he chose clashed with each other. Hobie had to completely dress him from head to toe. "You look like a proper rebel without a cause," Hobie had told him, which Miles took as a good thing.

Miles took one look at the bartending stand, gave Hobie a stupid smile, and as funny as it was, he shot him down immediately. "Uh-Uh. 'low it."

It was 7:30. The concert didn't officially start for another 30 minutes, and Rico wasn't going to come out for an hour after that. Miles was taking everything in. He had a look of wonder in his eyes. Hobie found it amusing. Him and Miles have been friends for some time now, but he’s never seen him this relaxed.

“You didn’t think about bringing Gwendy here?” Hobie asked him. Gwen should see this part of her boo thing. (They still haven’t made anything official).

Miles hisses and scratches the back of his head. “Eh…nah man. I’m still nervous about showing this side of me to people. You’re the only person I’m confident enough to show it off to.”

Miles’s sweet words brought a genuine smile to Hobie’s face, and he smiled back. Hobie wrapped his arm around him and rubbed his head. They continue talking as the venue fills more and more and people gather behind him. Soon, it’s hard to move around and the two boys finally notice how packed the floor has become. Miles begins to look a little nervous, but looks up at how chill Hobie is and adjusts himself accordingly.

When he’s done trying to look cool he taps Hobie on his arm. The man looks down at him in curiosity. “Hey, so…what’s your situation?”

“What do you mean?”

Miles makes a fist and punches his palm. “I mean, do you got a girl, bro?”

Hobie scoffs and laughs at his question. “Nah, man. My Gwen Stacy is a capitalist pig. And I don’t know a Mary Jane.”

“Maybe you can have the Gwen from my universe.” Mike’s jokes. Hobie laughs and punches his arm.

“Sorry mate, but if she’s anything like others, I don’t want her." He gets a far off look in his face, and Miles's grin straightens out. "It’s like in every universe, she’s a "good" girl.” Hobie explains his thought process. Miles is greatly interested in what he has to say. Hobie looks up and speaks as if this is something he’s put a lot of thought into. “My person needs to have my ideals. I want her to be loud and obnoxiously motivated. Like me.” He says the last part with a grin. Miles shook his head.

“So you want an anarchist?”

Hobie shrugs. “If she’s not a felon she’s not for me.” They laugh with each other until the opening DJ comes out. It was 8:00 and the concert was starting. He played some popular mainstream music that Hobie wouldn’t otherwise listen to. But Miles had started rapping 21 Savage with some other teenagers around him and he couldn’t help but enjoy it.

Hobie easily towered over the crowd, so he took a moment to take it all in. In his opinion, he had the best spot on the floor. Right in the middle. He could see everything. Everyone had on some form of punk-like, gothic, or emo styling. He saw many spikes, chains, and buckles. So many creative hairstyles and outfit choices. He truthfully felt that he was in his element. It was nice.

Oh! Es-pecially the fine thing standing right in front of him.

Well, he assumed that she looked good. He was absolutely digging her hair. She had large Bantu Knots going across her head. It was was a nice Cajun Spice color. This hair definitely takes the cake for him.

His eyes trail down her body to look at her outfit. She had fishnets on her legs and torso. Over the fishnets, she had on an AC/DC crop top with jagged edges that she probably cut herself. Her bottoms were black ripped shorts. Extremely short, they wrapped around her ass so nicely, and some of the flesh hung out of them. He couldn’t see too much of her feet, but he could guess that she’s wearing Demonias. He really wanted to see the front of her choker.

She was moving to the music and shaking her hips to the beat of ‘The Boy’s a Liar.” It was a cute song in his opinion, and her dance was just as adorable. But it was dangerous how the plush of her ass moved in those shorts.

Her friend who was dancing beside her accidentally backed into him. She turned to apologize and Hobie gave her a nod and a “you’re good,” then went right back to staring at Bantu Knots. The girl peeped him, and she smiled and nudged her to get her attention. She whispers in her ear, then turns back around completely.

When Hobie makes eye contact with Bantu Knots, his heart feels like it’s slowing down. Then, immediately, it runs. She had big brown eyes and the cutest ring on her round nose. Her makeup wasn’t much, but she still looked stunning. She clearly had on foundation, concealer and some sort of powder. She had long false lashes on, sharp wings, and black glossy lips. On the flush of her cheek, there was a small black heart drawn with eyeliner. She was gorgeous.

He was mesmerized, it was like his body did the work for him when he nodded and smirked at her. She gave him a sideways smile back, looked him up and down, then turned back around. The whistle that Hobie let out was long and smooth. Miles nudges him in the arm having been witness to the whole thing. Hobie grins.

He takes another chance to enrapture her. He taps her shoulder than leans down next to her ear. He keeps his voice low, and mutters, “I love your hair.”

He guessed she really liked that compliment, because she immediately lights up and turns around fully to look at him. The girl puts her hand on his shoulder to pull his ear towards her. A shock courses through his body when her breath hits his skin.

“I love yours, too.”

Somehow, her voice was even more breathtaking than she was. Hobie shivers. He resists the urge to ask her if she wanted to use his wicks as handle bars. Then he blinks. He has no idea where that idea came from, but he liked it.

He also liked her voice. She didn’t sound like she was local. Most spidermen in the spider society were from New York or some variation of it. He had heard his fair share of Northern American accents. Hers was more southern. Not nearly as southern as Webslinger’s though. Or, a different kind of southern.

"You’re not from around here, are you?” He asks her.

“Neither are you, mate.”

Hobie chuckled at her joke. Even though she was mocking him, it was pretty good. He decided then that he likes her and he doesn’t want to stop talking to her. He looks to his side to see Miles caught up in his own conversation with his new buddies. Good, he’s occupied.

“I don’t entirely think it’s fair that you know where I’m from and I don’t know where you’re from.” He suggest.

“I’m from Atlanta,” she answers, her deep voice relaxing him. “I moved to Brooklyn not to long ago.”

That was interesting. “Oh, really?” He wondered what might have brought her all the way up here.

She nodded. “What about you?”

Hobie rubbed his chin and quickly thought of a small lie to tell you. “I’m just visiting my bro, he invited me to this concert. I’ve never heard her music before, but I like what he showed me.”

The girl gasped as if Hobie had just told her of a terrible crime. “You've never listened to Rico before?”

Hobie shook his head. “Don’t worry, love. That’s gonna change real soon. Especially when her fans look like this.” He looked her body over and smirked.

She returns his advance with a sensual smile of her own. “Like what?”

His face doesn’t fall. “Like, bare fit.”

“What that mean?”

“It’s UK for, ‘fine as hell.’”

She continued smiling at him. They stared at each other for a second, then she spoke. “My name is Y/N.”

“Hobie.”

Before she could continue talking to him, the music starts to pick up a bit more. The playlist becomes a little more raunchy. She turns back around to dance with her friends and Hobie begins rapping along with Miles. While the music played, Hobie would occasionally catch Y/N’s eyes look at him. She was dancing really cutely, which was absolutely not the vibe of the songs that were currently playing. He could tell she wanted to really move. But, she was most likely afraid of making him uncomfortable.

Hobie had to let her know that he wants it. With all the confidence and audacity he can muster, he rubs his hand on her lower back, wrapping his fingers and palm around her waist. She turns slightly to look at him, and her eyes are full of mischief. Hobie leans over to her ear once again. Her friends are watching the scene somewhat discreetly and giggling.

“You can throw it back on me, love. I don’t mind at all.”

Apparently, that was all she needed to get absolutely loose with it. She beamed at him, caught the beat, then started dancing on him while he held her waist. Hobie’s grip is firm, but he doesn’t force their hips together, no matter how much it would turn him on. This wasn’t the first time he’s been twerked on, but he hasn’t been this into it. He grabs the other side of her hips with his other hand.

She bounces herself on him a couple times, and Hobie had never been more happy that he was wearing jeans. He doesn’t know how she would react to feeling his boner on her. However, the thought excites him. How good would it feel to just start humping into her backside? Everyone is paying attention to themselves. Would anyone even notice if he slipped his finger in between her thick thighs and underneath her shorts?

As she continues to dance on him, his imagination begins to run wilder. He doesn’t even realize how much time had passed and that the opener had already came and gone. There was a new DJ who was to introduce Rico any second now, and all Hobie could do was watch her skin bounce on his pants. There’s only a slit going from the back of her shorts to the front to cover her pussy. He assumes that she has a thong on, or he would be able to see her panties. If she just bent over a little more and stuck her ass in the air, Hobie could play with her for a little bit. And if he just angled his hips down a bit, he could pull it to the side, unzip his jeans, and just…

That would be disgusting. Fucking this random girl in the middle of a mosh pit floor. It excites him. He wonders if she likes that idea too. He doesn’t even realize that she has moved his arms completely to the front of her torso. His hands were gripping her lower stomach. She was practically grinding on him. Hobie’s mouth opened only slightly. He licked his bottom lip then bit it, not noticing the way Miles’s eyebrows lifted in shock.

At one point she looked back at him without stopping with the same bright smile on her face. Just when Hobie was about to say ‘fuck it’, the DJ begins to hype everyone up. He lets go of Y/N and looks towards the stage. The lights are going crazy. So is the crowd.

Miles is shaking his arm back and forth. “That girl was going crazy!”

Hobie slapped their hands together and bumped his chest. “Hell yeah.” He takes one more look at her back. As if she feels his eyes on her, she looked back at him. They smile and she turns around. Hobie doesn’t stop.

Miles squints his eyes. “Wait a minute, big fella.” He holds his arms out. “Whatchu thinkin’?”

Hobie shrugs, but still doesn’t stop looking at her. “I’m not thinking anything, mate.”

The crowd gets louder as one of Rico’s songs finally start playing.

“You ready?” Miles yells at him.

“Ha!” Hobie laughs and grabs Miles’s arms. “Are you? Your first time moshing, big steppa,” He shouts back.

“I’m scared as hell!”

“Don’t be! I got you!”

With that, Rico finally comes out and the crowd screams. All at once, the entire venue starts jumping. Hobie’s eardrums feel like they’re about to explode. With the way he’s moving along with his height and his firm grip over Miles’s shoulders, he feels sorry for the people behind and next to him.

The crowd isn’t pushing so much as everyone is just too filled with adrenaline to stay still. Rico herself is having a lot of fun on the stage too. Jumping up and down with everyone, screaming into the mic, feeding off the crowds amazing energy. Hobie’s really feeling it too. He hadn’t been moshing for a while, it felt good to be in his element.

As the songs change, the crowd gets more and more hype, but it isn’t until STFU when they really start moving.

Hobie doesn’t let go of Miles and pushes people around, almost falling over himself. At the same time, he makes sure to push against Y/N’s back. Everyone is screaming, pushing and throwing themselves into each other. It’s wild, hot, and exciting. It’s the most fun Hobie has had for a minute.

Y/N kept up pretty well, as if she’s true to this too. The concert goes on, and Rico begins to play her more down tempo songs. Hobie and Miles are sweating , but Miles is heaving. Hobie nudges him.

“You alright, bro?” Miles doesn’t stop heaving, but gives him a thumbs up. Hobie groans and slaps his head.

“Bro, so sorry, I completely forgot to bring some water for you. Ay listen, we can go and get some, and I’ll push us back up here, that good?” He suggests.

Miles waved him off. “Nah man,” he says exasperated. “I’m chilling.”

His new group of friends hand him a hydro flask and tells him to waterfall. Hobie thinks it’s gross, but it gets the job done. Miles looks fine again. He sighs in relief and turns back to see Y/N just vibing.

He takes the liberty to tap her shoulder and lean down into her ear. “You doing okay?” She was sweating, so was he, but she was still the most gorgeous girl in the venue.

She smiled at him thankfully and nodded. Once again, placing her hand on his shoulder she talks into his ear. “Yeah, thank you. What about you? You look just as crazy as I do.”

Hobie laughs. “How bad do I look?”

She shakes her head. “I didn’t say you look bad, baby. I said you look crazy. I like it.” Hobie’s heart flutters at the pet name, her southern drawl coming out a bit. He decides then that this can’t be the only time they talk.

“How much do you like it?” Pussy Poppin’ begins to play, Y/N turns around, grabs his hands to put them around her waist and begins to dance on him again. Hobie smiles again. This time, there’s no letting of each other. His hands remain on her waist for some time. She often looks back and stares at him. He knows this girl likes him just as much as he does and if he was only back in his universe, he would have grabbed her and swung her back to his place immediately. But, he can’t leave Miles-

Where is Miles?

Hobie lets go of her and begins looking around in a panic. She becomes worried. “Are you okay?” She yells while placing her hand on his chest. Hobie is too worried to revel in her touch, but one of the boys Miles was interacting with gets his attention.

“Hey, that boy, Miles?” He starts. “He said to tell you he was feeling lightheaded so he went to his dorm.” Hobie closes his eyes and sighs in relief. But he was also upset that he had just left without a word. Then, the kid gets his attention once more. “Um, he also said good luck with your girl.”

Ah, so that’s why. That’s kind of awkward.

“Everything alright?” Y/N asks again.

Hobie’s reassuring smile relaxes her. “It’s fine. Was looking for my bro but he went home.”

That mischievous glint in her eye came back. "So you’re free?”

Hobie pauses. Was this really happening right now? Was he really this lucky? “Yeah.”

“Want to go to my place after this? I got a blunt.”

The night just keeps getting better. Hobie chased off a stupid smile and says a thankful prayer to whatever is listening. Then he realizes. It’s only gone 10:00. The concert can’t be ending for at least another hour.

“After?” Hobie debates his next move, then he grabbed her hand. Without looking away from her, he slowly brings her hand to feel his crotch. Her eyes widened. He was very turned on, he had been since she backed up on him. He rubbed her hand up and down a bit so she could feel his arousal even better. When she began squirming and rocking back and forth on her feet, Hobie's smirk grows. Her legs were clenched shut and she couldn’t take her eyes off his waist. He leans down again, his breath making her shudder. “You see what you did to me? You’re really gonna make me wait, love?”

He stares into her eyes. Hers flicker back and forth between his, and eventually to his studded lips. Hobie anticipates her answer, but from the way she began to grip his member he knows she’ll take him up on his offer.

She takes in a breath, turns to tell her friends that she’s leaving, the grabs Hobie’s arm and starts walking through the crowd.

ending a/n: That’s the end of part one to the story. How did you guys like it so far? I wanted to add a few Rico songs to get a gist of how the concert went, but I didn’t want to overload the story. I hope the suggestiveness is to y’all’s liking. I promise the nasty raunchy sex is coming next. I can’t help but to write lore for every story I write, so you, the reader, will have a little back ground story in the next part. Just a couple of heads up, it will be a little bit angsty towards the end, and involve having sex while under the influence. They’ll be smoking while they’re fucking, basically.

about the author: I do not write for this fandom, this will be my first and probably only story involving spiderverse. I write Jujutsu Kaisen fanfiction, pretty much exclusively Toji. I also don’t write on Tumblr. I will link my AO3 but please be warned that the stories I write have very dark content matter and are angst the whole way through.

#across the spiderverse #spider punk #spider punk x reader #spider punk x you #spider punk smut #hobie brown #hobie brown x you #miles morales #SoundCloud

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