#patricks lie was that he was pretending he was only showing up at their college to see tashi | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

butgilinsky · 3 years

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'cause maybe then you'd want me just as much // np

warning; heavy language, toxy relationships, love triangle to an extent, throwing up, mentions alcohol a lot, mentions of smut but nothing explicit, there's one make out scene in it, angst angst angst this is straight angst, i think that's it?

summary; after your split from Nolan, you can't seem to find a way for both of you to be happy. when you meet his girlfriend for the first time, everyone seems to think you've developed a crush on her. based on the song girl crush by little big town.

word count; 15.6k+

a/n; he baddies, so this is a lot. one thing i wanted to say quickly is that this is mainly a nolan fic, but there are heavy joel x reader themes throughout. a bit of a love triangle but that's not entirely the focus of it. so if you're here for a nolan fic, here ya go. if you're here for a beezer fic, strap in it just takes a bit of time to develop to that point(: enjoy!

add yourself to my nhl taglist!

“You don’t get to have your cake and eat it too.” your eyes instinctively rolled back, the anger burning in your chest only growing at his attempt to confront this situation head on. He had a tendency of doing that, going at something full force with little to no thought of how it’ll actually end up.

“That’s a stupid saying! Why would I want the cake in the first place if I can’t eat it?”

“Can you dissect the english language another time and just listen to me for once?” the scoff that tumbled past your lips was subconscious, something you couldn’t stop yourself from. “All i’m saying is-”

“I get it, Nolan. I won’t give you the satisfaction of claiming me in front of the entire world, and now you’re walking away from me. If you can’t tell everyone that I’m yours then it means I'm not, right?” his shoulders slumped, his chest deflating as your words resonated in his mind.

Truth be told, Nolan didn’t give a shit what other people thought. He didn’t care about other people’s view of him, nor did he care about their validation. All he wanted was to be able to tell his friends where he went after each of his games, who he spent his nights and mornings with. He didn’t want to keep lying about why he bought enough groceries to feed more than one person, or who called him when he was on the road.

He understood at first, why you wanted to keep things to yourself. For a while, he agreed with you. He didn’t want your friends to get in the way either, though the group the two of you were in made that slightly difficult. They thrived off of teasing each other, and the two of you did your fair share of teasing as well. One thing Nolan didn’t want was for his friends to make the two of you feel as if this was all a mistake. He didn’t want you to have to face any scrutiny from the team or anyone else, so the two of you agreed to keep things just between the two of you.

That all turned to shit around six months in, when Nolan stopped getting excited about slipping out of his apartment unseen or arriving at the rink just in time for him to duck underneath Claude’s radar. The secrecy wasn’t fun anymore. He didn’t need a label, didn’t need you to commit to an entire life with him, but he wanted to be able to show up to functions with you under his arm. He wanted to see you wearing your Patrick jersey outside of your apartment.

He wanted you to be his girlfriend, and he wanted everyone to know about it.

Nolan knew there were things that had happened to you in the past that made you hesitant to climb aboard. He tried to be patient, tried to give you the time and space you needed to get you to where he stood. But months passed and you never got there, and he was starting to lose faith that you’d ever get there. He was starting to think he was waiting for something that was never going to come.

“I’m not sneaking around anymore. You can decide what that means, but I refuse to have these secret rendezvous where I can’t even tell people where I’m going. We don’t have to put a label on it, I’ll wait an entire lifetime if I have to for that, but I’m sick of the lying and scheming and secrecy.” he didn’t know what was more important to you at this point; being with him or making sure you kept all of your walls up. He did know what his priorities were, where he stood on the subject matter, but that wasn’t enough anymore. Now it was up to you to decide where the two of you lie.

“So what’s it going to be y/n?”

The last time you had gone through a break up, it had hurt a lot less than this. The weeks following the split between you and Nolan had been harder than any breakup in the past. Maybe the thing that was making all of it worse was the fact that you were suffering in silence. Nobody knew about you and Nolan in the first place, so nobody knew about the breakup that wasn’t actually a breakup.

You didn’t see him for two weeks after he’d walked out of your apartment. You couldn’t bring yourself to go to his games, and you denied all of the team’s invitations to go out with them. Even when Joel and Travis showed up to your apartment with several bags of take out food and tried their best to pick your brain about what had been going on with you, you fabricated a story about how school and work were mixing together in an unappetizing way.

It was easy for the most part, to blame your mood on schoolwork. Most of the flyers had no idea how stressful college could be, given that even the ones that were in your age range had never gone to college. Apart from a few of them like Joel, who had spent a year in college before being drafted, they assumed that school was everything you said it was. So any time they invited you out and tried to tell you that you couldn’t come up with any more excuses, a simple lie about a project being due soon would fend them off for a few days before repeating the process.

You finally agreed to go to a game when Joel needed a last minute ride to the rink, which ended in him convincing you that since you were already there, you could stick around for the game. You were sure that he had planned it all out, no doubt with the help of a few of the guys in order to be convincing enough, but it worked. It got you in the seats where most of them stopped by to wave at you during warm ups.

The smile that crept onto your lips when Nolan scored was subconscious. You couldn’t help but smile and clap for him, a warm familiarity swimming in your chest. Normally you’d meet him at your apartment afterwards, sharing toothy smiles and sensual kisses that never failed to turn into more. Your bed was familiar with Nolan, claiming half of itself to be side and clearing out a space on your nightstand for his phone and water bottle.

But you couldn’t do that anymore, Nolan wasn’t yours to take home anymore. While the realization was tough to bear, you simply wiped the smile off of your face and barred a neutral expression for the remainder of the game. You clamped your lips shut in a tight line and kept your deafening thoughts to yourself.

Your life had made room for him, a space for him to slide in without much effort at all. Your routine molded itself around Nolan being there in the mornings and nights. It started as little things like buying a second phone charger to plug in on his side of the bed. Then it turned to buying double the amount of groceries and recording his favorite shows on tv. Then he had a toothbrush next to yours on the bathroom counter and a bottle of body wash next to your shampoo in the shower. They were little changes here and there that somehow made it feel like Nolan practically lived there.

Even if the words were never said out loud, you and Nolan had broken up. It was hard to wrap your head around, how you could break up with someone without even realizing that you were dating in the first place. It shouldn’t have been so detrimental to lose him, to not have his hips snapping into yours or wake up to him brewing coffee in your kitchen. It was never supposed to get this far, was never supposed to be a tale of two friends that pined for each other enough to cause these waves. It was what you had done your best to avoid over its entirety, but you failed.

And now you had to pretend as if none of it had ever happened.

“Get out of the car, y/n.” you rolled your eyes at Joel’s attempt to sound stern with you, given the look he was sending you through the door frame. His eyebrows were raised and his hands sat on his hips, as if he was your angry mother that was dragging you to soccer practice on a sunday morning. “You have five seconds or I'm carrying you inside.”

“Jesus, Joel I just dropped my chapstick, chill the fuck out.” he rolled his eyes but smiled when you began climbing out of the car.

It was almost painful to convince you to come to Claude and Ryanne’s cookout, an event you normally wouldn’t miss for the world. If this were three months ago, you would’ve been happy to oblige. You’d steal glances across the yard at the boy who was more often than not already looking at you. Maybe you’d meet up in one of the empty rooms far enough from everyone else that they wouldn’t hear you sharing affirmations or other things not appropriate for a family friendly cookout with practically everyone you knew in Philly.

But you knew when you woke up this morning that that wouldn’t happen. You don’t live in the past and you’re no longer able to share stolen glances and smiles with the blue eyed boy who had stolen your heart without you realizing it. Instead you’d be forced to act as if nothing had happened between the two of you. It was easy at games, given that you never truly had to talk to Nolan, but today wouldn’t be that easy. You were certain that at some point you’d have to talk to Nolan in order to eliminate any suspicion about the two of you giving each other the cold shoulder.

You had mentally prepared yourself for the disaster you may or may not encounter, the feelings that were bound to throb in the back of your mind upon seeing the boy with shoulder length hair and a voice that never failed to send a chill down your spine. What you hadn’t been expecting was the petite blonde girl tucked into his side, the one with bright blue eyes and a smile that surely had the entire room smiling right back at her.

The weight of the situation hit you at full force, almost knocking you off of your feet before you even stepped onto the grass in the backyard. You asked yourself if there was any way you could escape, any way you could find a last minute excuse and run out the door before he even saw you but then you remembered that Joel drove you, and there was no way he’d take you back now.

That, and Nolan locked eyes with you before you could form a coherent thought that might have gotten you out of this situation. He looked thrown off, like he hadn’t been expecting you to be here. He looked down at the girl beside him, painfull aware of how this all looked to you and finding a million and one things that he assumed were running through your mind.

“You alright?” your eyes flicked up to meet Joel’s that were flooded with confusion and worry at the sight of you clearly thrown off by something. But then you coughed and shook your head, forced a smile to the surface and told Joel that you were perfectly fine.

You were fine for a while, assuming you could just stay away from them and everything would be okay. If you didn’t have to talk to her, didn’t have to hear about her or anything that had anything to do with her, you’d be fine. You could handle the avoidance of eye contact with Nolan and you could push your feelings below the surface for the time being.

Unfortunately for you, she seemed to be just about the nicest person on the planet and felt the need to introduce herself to everyone in her general vicinity. You were walking back out of the house, your fingers wrapped around the neck of four different bottles before she popped up out of nowhere and offered you a bright smile.

“Hi! You’re y/n right?” you nodded gently, pushing a soft smile to the surface to humor her. “Thought so. Nolan’s told me a lot about you. I’m Mackayla.”

Aside from the fact that she was definitely the last person you wanted to be talking to right now, she was dangerously nice. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t see the appeal. Her long blonde hair was beautiful, and you were sure by the way she was gently gripping onto her cup that she was gentle in all walks of life.

She was nicer than you’d wished she’d be. It’s as if you couldn’t find a flaw about her, other than the boy she chose to latch onto. It’d be easier if he was smiling all the same, if he was looking at her the way he used to look at you, even if nobody noticed. You’d be able to live with it if Nolan looked just as happy with her as he did with you, but he didn’t.

His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and his hands were always shoved into his pockets or running through his hair. His knuckles went white from his tight grip on his better bottle, and you just knew. You knew that the way he looked at her held little to no weight, not when compared to the way he’d look at you with your head on his chest or his in your lap. If you didn’t know what he looked like at 2 in the morning over a plate of waffles the two of you were sharing. If you hadn’t heard the laugh that bellowed out when you stared at him in disbelief for eating the last bite.

You wondered if she knew that he’d rather waste money on overpriced sushi than order a pizza, if she knew that rubbing his temples and scratching his scalp helped soothe his migraines. Did she know that he’d talk about the things bugging him if you just gave him space for a minute or so and let him collect his thoughts? Did she know that he kept a bottle of ibuprofen in his nightstand and one in the center console of his car?

You doubted she knew these things, because you knew Nolan was oblivious to you knowing these little things. He didn’t know you’d picked up on these small details about him because you didn’t voice them, you didn’t need to. You got his favorite coffee creamer without asking him what flavor he wanted, keeping it in your fridge at all times just in case. You made sure not to steal the black hoodie that always laid over the back of his couch, because you knew it was his favorite and if you had ever taken it he’d lose his mind.

You made sure that Nolan was taken care of, that you never acted out in a way that would negatively affect him. And as much as it hurt to stand in front of his new girl and act as if you didn’t know all of these things about him, you’d do it for him. You swallowed your pride and forced a smile so that nobody picked up on anything for Nolan’s sake.

You were doing an okay job with faking a smile and listening to Mackayla talk about the things she’d done with Nolan over the weekend. You’d learned she was from Georgia, though that much had been obvious from the southern drawl in her voice, and it only led you to wonder how she even met Nolan in the first place. Was she staying at his apartment while she was here? Did she sleep on your side of the bed and eat the granola bars that he always bought for you without a second of hesitation?

You were doing fine, until you noticed Nolan’s eyes glued to you. He was watching you, whether it was out of fear of you falling apart or stepping out of line in front of her, you weren't sure. Maybe he didn’t trust you with the girl he was trying to use to get over you, and maybe he was concerned for your well being, but you had a fairly good guess as to which one it would’ve ended up being.

So with the best excuse you could muster, you politely told Mackayla that you had to deliver the beers slotted between your fingers and ushered her back in Nolan’s direction. He tucked her under his arm just like he had when you first arrived and sent you one last careful glance before turning away from you both figurative and literally.

When you got back to Joel and dished out the beers you promised everyone, you pressed your own against your lips and downed half of the beer in one go before Joel forced you to stop.

“Woah! Try not to drink your weight tonight, yeah?” you rolled your eyes and fought back the groan that threatened to slip when Joel pulled your bottle away from you. “Breathe for a second.”

You tried to ignore Travis and Karly’s concerned looks, confusion setting in for both of them when you offered a smile in place of an explanation. They didn’t question it, knowing better than to dig too far into the reason for your actions. In an attempt to take the focus off of your odd behavior, Travis offered a change of conversation. Though it would’ve been better if he had chosen a topic that didn’t directly relate to your sour mood.

“So Mackayla’s pretty nice.” Karly hummed, eyes locking with yours for just a second. Her motive was innocent, simply offering a skepticism about a new girl being introduced into the mix, something the two of you usually had when any of the guys started dating someone new.

“She’s pretty.” you shrugged gently, attempting to offer an innocent enough addition to the conversation that wouldn’t force you to endure too much more of this conversation.

Joel gasped gently, eyes panning down to you while a smirk creeped up his lips and firmly planted itself on his face. “Do you have the hots for Patty’s girl?”

Your eyes blew wide and while the only thing running through your mind was how wrong Joel is, he mistook your shock for fear of being sniffed out so easily. It didn’t help that Joel had been your wingman on more than one occasion, always doing everything he could to snag you someone worthy of time.

“Bee-”

“You’re so into her!” you groaned at Travis bouncing in excitement, only calming down when his girlfriend dug her elbow into his ribs.

“I do not have a crush on Mackayla.”

“Who said anything about a crush?” Joel’s smile ignited a fire inside of your chest, an aggravation that had you clenching your jaw and rolling your eyes. He sucked his teeth and pressed a hand to his chest, a far off look settling in his expression. “My baby’s growing up.”

“Shut the fuck up, Farabee.”

Unfortunately, you were unable to convince Travis and Joel about your feelings towards the girl, or lack thereof. You couldn’t exactly tell them that you weren’t anything less than envious of her, that you kept looking in her direction because she seemed physically incapable of leaving Nolan’s side. You couldn’t tell them that you were truly looking at Nolan, that all you wanted to do was tell him that everything that’s happened was severely miscalculated on your part.

While Joel and Travis were painful at times, they were your best friends. They were attentive to your feelings more often than not, even if they miscalculated them here and there. Joel slipped you a few more drinks throughout the night and Travis made sure you never had an empty cup in your hand. Karly kept a close eye on you, worried about you quickly tipping over the edge if no one paid attention. She wasn’t convinced by the story of your crush on Mackayla, but she wasn’t sure what was truly bothering you so she did her best to make sure you stayed away from the ledge.

After two cups of the punch that Jake brought you were taking deep breaths in the bathroom, mustering up the courage to go back out and face the music. With every twinge of alcohol that infiltrated your system your shoulders slumped and you forgot about the pain that resonated in the back of your mind. It was easier to not look at Nolan every few seconds when you partially forgot that he was even there.

However, just as you opened the door to step back out into the house, the door was pushed wide open and Nolan stepped into the small space with you before shutting the door behind him. You were caught off guard, not having been this close to him since he walked out three months ago. It was almost nice, you almost let yourself slip a smile but then you were painfully aware of the way his forehead creased in frustration.

He saw your mind go over ninety different thoughts, your face showing off just about every emotion you were feeling when you felt it. It was hard for him to stand his ground, to not reach out to you and press a soft kiss against your forehead at the sight of you stressed out about something. But then he remembered why you were stressed, why he came up here in the first place. He remembered how you told him you couldn’t be with him, how you broke his heart.

“Why are you in here, Pat?” he flinched at the name, having not heard you call him that since before everything had unfolded between the two of you. You never called him by his last name, nor his hockey nicknames. Not after you’d been trapped between him and his mattress far more times than you could count.

“You talked to Mackayla earlier.” you hummed, rolling your eyes when you realized what was coming.

“So you saw me talking to your girlfriend earlier and now you’re wondering if I told her something she’s not supposed to know. If you’re wondering what we talked about then you can ask her, because I honestly couldn’t remember if my life depended on it. I stopped listening to her after she told me that you’ve told her a lot about me.” despite the way his eyes changed, darkening ever so slightly and pupils dilating, Nolan looked unphased by your confession.

“She’s not my girlfriend-”

“Then what is she? She’s clearly something since she’s here at your captain’s house. She’s visiting from Georgia for fuck’s sake, Pat-”

“So you did pay attention to her.” as fucked as it was, Nolan smirked at the realization that you still cared. Despite everything you told him, every time you said that you needed things to be a secret and that you couldn’t open up that part of you, he was elated to find out that you had a soft spot for him.

“Do you think it’s funny? You think it’s funny to watch me fall apart right in front of you? I’m trying so hard to keep myself together, and then you bring her here and wave her around in my face like you deserve an award for moving on.”

“I had no idea you were coming.” you wanted to laugh, wanted to scream at the top of your lungs that he had to be joking right now. But you didn’t, you held the laugh in the back of your throat and you opted for a vocal level that wouldn’t travel downstairs for everyone else to hear.

“That’s bullshit! I know you’re lying to me because Joel showed me a string of texts from your group chat of everyone saying that they were excited to see me. You know why he showed me that, Pat? Because I needed the motivation to peel myself off of my couch and start hanging out with my friends again. You know, i’m doing everything I can to hold it together but it’s really fucking hard when i can’t even be vocal about the fact that I don’t want to be around you right now.”

“Oh, don’t put that shit on me. You wanted to keep us a secret, so that means your heartbreak is a secret too. What do you want me to do about it? Help you through it? You want me to help you get over me? This is me trying to do that. I’m trying to move on, and you should be trying just as hard.” that almost hurt more than figuring out that he had deep rooted feelings for her. To know that she was your replacement, the one that was meant to help him get over you, that was much worse.

“But that’s the thing, Nolan! I don't want to get over you!”

“Well you have to! It’s too late to make up for all of the shit we’ve already been through. The damage is done, so you need to let me be happy without you.” your heart sank at the revelation, the look of defeat that sat on his face and told you that there was no going back. There was nothing you could do that was going to backtrack from this.

So you reached around him and grabbed the doorknob, twisting it as quickly as you could and slipping out of the bathroom just as quickly as Nolan had slipped in. You ran down the stairs fast enough to miss the sound of him slamming his fist into the countertop, the guttural groan that left him as he broke down in the room you left him in.

The good thing about the alcohol induced daze you were in was that your tears could’ve been due to anything. They could’ve been from someone taking your white claw away, and while you were sure you could find an excuse for crying, you knew that you wouldn’t need to when you saw Joel’s face.

“Can we go?” he nodded without a single question, promising you that it had been well over two hours since he had had a single sip of beer. He turned to Phil and told him to tell everyone they left but to leave out the part about you standing in front of them with wet cheeks and red eyes.

He didn’t ask you what was wrong, didn’t ask you to fess up to your crying fest in the car. He simply drove around the city until you had let out every tear and choked sob you could manage. He knew that part of it was spurred on by your blood alcohol level, surel exceeding the limit to drive, but he knew there was something you weren’t saying.

While not many people other than the people in Joel’s close vicinity had seen you crying just before your disappearance, a few did. And while nobody knew what it could have possibly been caused by, Karly watched Nolan descend down the stairs a few minutes after you had with an expression much different than the one he wore when he went upstairs. His cheeks were red and blown out, a dead give away for him being angry. It didn’t take her long to put the pieces together, to realize that you weren’t looking at Mackayla all night but rather the boy who had an arm draped around her shoulder.

You hoped that maybe you’d never have to see Mackayla after that, that she’d return to whatever town in Georgia she came from and stay there. Maybe even if she was around, you wouldn’t have to be around her. If Joel and Travis wanted to believe that it was from your attraction to her then so be it, just as long as you didn’t have to witness Nolan giving someone else the affection you craved from him.

But time passed and Mackayla stuck around. She stuck around for a few more months, visiting Nolan far more often than you would have cared for. She was around more than you wished she’d be. She was nice enough for everyone to like her, though it was kept at a surface level. Joel still picked your brain about your supposed crush on her, dropping hints in various conversations about it.

“So I was talking to Mack the other day-”

“Who the fuck is Mack?” it was a reflex, popping your head around the corner and shooting Joel a confused look across the room. He was leaning back on your couch, waiting for you to come back with the popcorn that was currently popping in the microwave.

“Mackayla…” Joel’s voice trailed off as he turned over his shoulder, his smirk all too irritating for you to not roll your eyes.

“What, the two of you are best friends now?” if Joel didn’t know you so well, he’d think you were jealous. He did, to an extent, think that you were jealous of him for being close to Mackayla, which was somewhat amusing for you.

“Chill, y/n/n. I’m not going to steal her away from you. She’s all yours, after she’s Patty’s.” it was meant to be playful, meant to bring a soft laugh out of you. Joel had no idea that he was just digging the dagger further into your heart, twisting it violently at the mention of Nolan and his girlfriend that seemed to be here to stay for much longer than you originally expected.

She showed up at games that you quickly regretted attending, wearing a jersey that you recognized all too well, having a few matching ones lining the back of your closet. You played nice though, letting her ask questions about you and answering them with the best answer you could offer at the time. You even went to grab drinks with her during the second intermission.

It was almost laughable, how oblivious she was. She was nice and in any other scenario where she wasn’t dating the boy you were hopelessly in love with, you probably would have liked her. There was nothing wrong with her other than her love interest, and the fact that she was oblivious to everything around her. You thought it was innocent at first, maybe even cute, but then she offered you a bright smile after you had calmed down from celebrating Joel’s second goal of the night and told you that the two of you would be a cute couple. Not only did it make you laugh, but the way she wiggled her eyebrows and told you that she could help you make that happen made you sigh in realization that she truly had no idea what mess she had walked into.

You hadn’t realized that Karly had caught onto your distaste for her until you announced that you had to run to the bathroom and Karly jumped up before Mackayla could even think about it and hooked her arms in yours. You sent her a puzzled look laced with a soft smile until she raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips in a way that told you exactly why she volunteered to go with you.

She let you break down in the bathroom, confessing that the mere sight of her made you nauseous. You told her about the history between you and Nolan, the way that you fell in love with him without even knowing it. You told her how you messed it up, how you did something that he couldn’t forgive you for and before you were able to tell her that you didn’t know how you would fix any of it, she told you that there was no way in hell that this was irreversible.

She’d seen the way you looked at him, the way he looked at you and the way he looked at her. In her mind, the choice was clear. Mackayla was no match for you, not even close. She didn’t bring any of the things to the table that you could, despite her being a good person. She wasn’t a bad person, but you were made for Nolan. Even Karly could figure that one out.

So you let her drag you to a bar with the team afterwards. You let her ring up a tab for the two of you and slip you drinks throughout the night without thinking much of it. Sure, Mackayla and Nolan weren’t very far away, but you knew you wouldn’t have to watch them do much more than things you’d already seen. You knew they wouldn’t dance, since Nolan would’ve preferred to drink everything behind the bar than dance in public.

It made you think about the times he danced with you in the kitchen at 3 am when soft music was pouring out of his phone and encapsulating the two of you in your own bubble. Neither of you were ever fully dressed, wearing things that you picked up off of the floor before cooking an entire meal in the middle of the night. Those nights were your favorite, when he did things that only you had the pleasure of experiencing.

It made a familiar feeling stir in your stomach, one that had you pressing the back of your hand to your mouth as you rushed towards the bathroom, passing the line that formed against one of the walls. Karly apologized to everyone who you had unintentionally skipped, though they all waved her off and claimed that you clearly needed it more than they did.

You were relieved when you got inside, able to breathe while also getting the nausea out of your system. Karly stood guard, only opening the door to yell at someone that had been knocking for the past three minutes.

“It’s fucking occupied- Patty?”

“Move.” you coughed at the sound of his voice, your throat constricting in a way that was involuntary. “Karly, seriously-”

“Nolan that’s not a good idea-”

“I can get her to stop.” Karly’s words paused in her throat, uncertainty flowing through her but when she heard you dry heave for the third time, she stepped aside and let Nolan come inside.

He gently pulled your hair out of your hands and grabbed the hair tie around your wrist, throwing your hair into the quickest ponytail he could in order to get it out of your face. His hands fell to your sides, slipping under your shirt without much effort at all and providing your skin with a newfound warmth.

He’d done this before, that much was obvious to Karly with the way you easily melted into his touch. He wasn’t doing much more than Karly could do but she knew that it was the feeling of his hands that grounded you, rather than physical touch in the general sense. If it wasn’t Nolan it wouldn’t have worked, and that gave Karly everything she needed to know about how you felt about her boyfriend’s best friend.

“You’re okay.” he whispered softly, letting you fall back against his chest and curl up into a ball on the floor of a dirty bar bathroom. He rocked you gently, almost unintentionally, while he kissed the back of your head gently. “You’re okay.” he repeated, feeling you relax into his hold afterwards.

Karly was stunned to say the least. She had never seen you react like that to anybody, let alone when they were that close to you. She was used to seeing you shove Joel or Travis away from you when they tried to baby you, claiming that you could hold your own and didn’t need them to help you through things. But here you were, melting into Nolan’s hold without a second thought.

“Thank you.” you whispered gently, despite the fact that Nolan was inherently the reason you were in this position. He didn’t know that, assuming your physical reaction to be from the alcohol you had consumed.

“I’m going to go get you some water.” Karly whispered softly before slipping out of the room, but not leaving until she threatened anyone else that tried to usher you out of the bathroom.

“You didn’t have to do that you know?” it was soft and broke through a thick silence after Karly had left, but it was enough for Nolan.

“I know I didn’t, but I care about you and I know that Karly’s clueless when it comes to things like that.” you laughed, one that came out more bitter than you had originally intended it to. Nolan’s ears perked up, his face twisting in confusion. “What?”

“Nothing, you’re just holding me in a bathroom right now while your girlfriend is waiting for you to return.” Nolan groaned, annoyed that you had to ruin a good moment by mentioning Mackayla. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he wished that just once he could have a conversation without you mentioning her.

“Alright well if you want me to leave, I can.” he stood up, brushing off his jeans and turning towards the door before you were on your feet and pulling away from it.

“Do you love her?” his brow furrowed, confusion written into his features as he tried to figure out why you would ask him such a thing. His silence gave you hope, made you believe that there was a possibility that maybe he didn’t love her.

“Why would you-”

“Do you still love me?” it hit him like a thousand bricks, like he had walked straight into a wall and knocked himself out. He’d never told you that he loved you, despite the fact that he definitely did. You had never told each other that you felt that way, though now you think maybe that would have changed things between the two of you. “I only ask because-”

“Just, don’t. Don’t this to me, y/n. I can’t handle this again.” you wondered if the sound you heard was his heart cracking, breaking in his chest at a simple question. You wondered if you had messed things up by being too scared, by living in fear rather than taking things that you wanted.

“I love you.” you felt your shoulders fall, shedding themselves of the weight they held onto for so long. “I love you so much it hurts, and everyone thinks it’s just because I’m in love with your girlfriend. They think that when i’m looking at you, i’m looking at her and while it’s a great coverup for the real issue at hand, it’s almost worse. Because in a way, I guess I am. I want to be her, I want to be in her place. I want to kiss her because at least I'll get to taste your lips again. At least if I listen to her go on and on about her weekend plans then I can keep up with your life from someone other than Tk.”

It was a lot, a lot of things you’d wanted to say for longer than you could recount, but now it was too much. It was too much to dump on Nolan in a bar bathroom where you had just previously been throwing up. It wasn’t ideal, and it was probably disgusting, but you need to get it out now. Now or never, right here in the bathroom where Nolan’s girlfriend stood not too far outside of it.

“Y/n-”

“Just tell me you love me. Tell me i’m not crazy because I think you look at me the way you should be looking at her. I think that whatever you have with her is probably great, but it’s nothing like what we had. She’s not me, Nolan. I know she’s not.”

“That’s the problem! She’s not you, and that’s good for me. She’s good for me. She doesn’t hide me, doesn’t shove me into her room when her best friend comes knocking on the door. She doesn’t hide my jerseys in the back of her closet or stay ten feet away from me in public. She’s not you, but that’s not an accident.” your heart sank, not only at the words ringing in your ears but the steam pouring out of his ears. The way that he was looking at you, like you’d ruined him, made your stomach twist. It was awful, to have him stand in front of you and not understand that all you wanted was him.

“Nolan please-”

“Please what, y/n? Haven’t we already had this conversation? You want me to help you but I'm telling you I can’t do that. I can’t keep running into bathrooms when you’re throwing up and I can’t hold your hand when your anxiety bubbles up and you can’t be around people anymore. I can’t do this for you anymore y/n. Yes, I love you. I love you but it hurts in a way that love should not hurt. I shouldn’t wake up every morning feeling like i’ve lost a part of me that i’ll never get back. I should be able to have a girlfriend without worrying about what my ex thinks, how she feels about me. I shouldn’t have to worry about your feelings anymore because you didn’t worry about mine when I was begging you to stop making me sneak around with you.”

“I didn’t mean for-”

“I don’t care anymore, honestly. I don’t care what you meant to do. All I'm asking you to do is to leave me alone and let me move on with my life. You had your chance, you had me right in front of you, telling you that you were the one for me, you were it, and you threw it away. You broke my heart and kicked me to the curb because you didn’t care what I wanted. So now i’m telling you that I don’t care what you want. I want you to stay away from me.”

The image of him walking out of the bathroom felt a lot like the night he walked out of your apartment. The way he slammed the door in your face, leaving you behind with wet cheeks and an ache in your chest that made it hard to breathe. It wasn’t any different from last time, but you were determined to change it from here on out.

You walked out of the bathroom after splashing water on your face, walking straight up to the bar and ordering three shots of tequila. Three shots that Karly watched him place in front of you from her place across the room as panic coursed through her. She shoved Travis to the side and did her best to reach you in time, dragging Joel along with her but it was too late. You had already tipped back two of the shots by the time they got there, and just as they slammed into the side of the bar, you lifted your third in a mock cheer before downing it.

“Let’s go have some fun, yeah?” you grabbed Karly’s hands and pulled her to the middle of the room to dance with you.

Karly wasn’t sure if she should be careful around you, if you had things that you wanted to air out or if you wanted to bury everything. She wasn’t sure exactly what happened with you and Nolan, and she wasn’t entirely sure how she was supposed to help you. So she let you drink. She made sure that Joel would be ready to take you home when you needed to go, and she let you do almost anything in between.

Joel was the one that cut you off, paying for your tab and pulling you away from a guy you were trying to hustle drinks from in favor of taking you home. He labeled you as gone enough to go home and when he was met with a drunken smile, he knew he made the right decision.

He kept an arm around you when you said goodbye to everyone, and pretended not to notice the way you skipped right over Nolan on your way out. Karly made him promise to call her as soon as he had gotten you home. He let you lean against him on the walk to his car and made sure all of your limbs were safely placed inside before shutting the door.

“You have a good night?” Joel asked about a minute or so into the drive, watching you gaze longingly out of your window. You nodded gently, which was slightly off putting but somehow enough for Joel to stop pushing it.

“She’s so pretty.” Joel’s ears perked up, attention shifting over to you at the sound of your voice. “Great smile, big blue eyes that you can’t help but stare out. Her accent can get annoying but it’s cute in a weird way.”

Joel laughed gently, thinking that your rambling was a drunk confession that his skepticism had been correct, that he had sniffed you out easier than you had expected him to. But then you spoke again, and it took everything in him not to slam on the brakes in the middle of the street.

“Maybe if I had her long blonde hair or her magic touch, he’d want me just as much.” he felt his heart sink into his stomach, realization dawned on him more and more as time progressed.

All this time, he’d been teasing you about the stupid crush he thought you had on Nolan’s girlfriend. He thought the glances and the heavy sighs were directed towards the blonde girl when in all reality, they were directed at his teammate. It made sense, how you and Nolan seemed to start acting strange around the same time. He wouldn’t hear from either of you for hours at a time, when nobody knew where either of you were.

It made sense why you stopped coming to games, why you stopped accepting invitations to go out with everyone. He realized now, that he’d made a big mistake. By thinking that you had a thing for Mackayla, every mere mention of the girl must have brought a sick feeling to your stomach. He mentioned her and Nolan all the time, and had unintentionally hurt you in the process.

“Do you think he would?” you turned toward Joel, hand falling onto his arm while your eyes blurred with a thin layer of tears. He looked down at you, so fragile and small in his passenger seat, and softened. He couldn’t help but think he helped put you in this position, but he could make sure he never did it again.

“I think he’d be an idiot not to love you just the way you are.” you rolled your eyes but the smile that stretched across your lips was enough for him. You shoved him playfully, letting a laugh pass your lips afterwards.

Something twisted in his stomach, seeing you laugh beside him in his passenger seat. You looked beautiful despite the drunken haze and the way your eyes could hardly stay open. It wasn’t the first time Joel had seen you like this but he hoped it wouldn’t be his last either.

“Careful, Beezer. You’re going to get my hopes up.” his heart sank again, the smile slowly fading from your lips before you slipped into a light sleep. He was furious that anybody would hurt you like this, let alone someone that he was so close to. He didn’t know how he didn’t sniff this out sooner, but he was determined to never let it go unnoticed again.

Joel kept a close eye on you then. He made sure not to invite you to things when Mackayla was already set to attend. He kept conversation topics about Nolan in the ‘do not mention’ box, only mentioning him if he was a vital part to the story he was telling. Joel went through your closet and replaced every single Patrick jersey with a Farabee one, claiming that you can’t keep showing up to the games with a simple flyers hoodie that was practically on its last leg.

You noticed the small changes, noticed that Joel was doing his best to keep you out of harm's way. You assumed he must have told Travis enough for him to stop mentioning your alleged crush on Mackayla. One thing you were sure of was the fact that you wouldn’t have made it this far without Joel. He showed up with takeout when he knew you’d gone all day without eating, and put on your favorite movie without asking.

Essentially, he was himself, dialed up to eleven. He made sure you never had to go anywhere by yourself if you didn’t want to. It was clear that Mackayla wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and you were far too close with the rest of the team to let Nolan indirectly stop you from having fun with your friends.

You went into the night thinking that it would be a good stepping stone for you to accept the fact that Mackayla would be around more often whether you liked it or not. You got ready with Karly, pulling on the tight leotard and the bunny ears that matched. It was a ridiculous outfit, but it was worth it when Joel walked into your apartment with his arms outstretched beside him and a pipe hanging from his lips loosely.

“Where’s my bunny?” you wiped a stray tear from your waterline, your laughter tumbling further into an uncontrollable fit. You knew these costumes would be ridiculous but seeing Joel in a velvet robe and a sailor’s hat was far more comical than you originally expected.

“Hi Hughie.” you kissed his cheek gently, heating up the patch of skin unintentionally. You didn’t notice the way his eyes lingered on the skin of your exposed thighs, nor did you see the way his eyes followed you when you turned around, back facing him.

“You ready?” you nodded gently and told Travis he did a good job, despite the fact that his and Karly’s prisoner costumes were just orange jumpsuits.

Karly brought her lips close to your ear when Nolan and Mackayla arrived, making a passive comment about how you and Joel looked ten times better than that. It made you think about last halloween, where you ended up leaving Claude’s with Nolan, only to wake up the next morning with a trail of marks down your neck and a mess of makeup you had forgotten to take off before falling asleep.

You shook the thought out of your head, deciding that it wasn’t worth it. You were thankful that Joel stayed close to you all night, eliminating the possibility of you ever being locked in a room with just Nolan and/or Mackayla. He didn’t stop you from tossing back one too many white claws and kept guard in front of the door when you used the bathroom.

He didn’t stop you from standing on a table beside Tk, elbows hooked together while you raced to down your can faster than him. He hip checked Karly when she tried to distract you to give her boyfriend the win, and he grabbed onto both of your thighs when you wobbled on the slightly unsteady surface.

Your hands fell to grab onto his shoulders in an attempt to steady yourself, thankful for the way he had no intention to let you fall. He smiled up at you with a smile that said he knew you were just past the point of being able to keep your balance. You’d lost count of how many white claws you’d been handed throughout the night, but the close eye he kept on you told him how much more you’d be able to handle before the night was over.

Joel wrapped his arms around your legs and lifted you off of the tabletop, only loosening them enough for you to slide down to stand on your feet. When your feet hit the floor, you were painfully aware of how close you were to Joel, feeling his breath fan over your face and struggling to keep your eyes locked on his.

In all the time you’ve known Joel, you’ve never felt the fuzzy feeling that was currently residing in your chest. You’d never thought about your relationship all that much. The two of you spent time together because it felt natural, it was easy to fall into a routine with him without even realizing it. In another world, you’d let Joel break down your walls. You’d probably help him, hammering them down all on your own if it meant that he looked at you like that for the rest of your life.

But this wasn’t a perfect world, and you couldn’t do that. No matter how much you tried to soak in the way that Joel was looking at you, the way he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes off of you or pry his hands off of your sides, you were reminded of the fact that he wasn’t Nolan.

You cleared your throat, eyebrows furrowing for just a second before you started tripping over your words. “I, uh-”

“Beezer!” Joel’s hands fell back to his side, eyes snapping up to follow the sound of his name only to find Morgan and Phil beckoning him over in their direction.

“I should uh-”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah, go. Don't fall off any tables.” he laughed gently and pressed a soft kiss to your temple before walking past you, leaving you with a burning feeling in both of your hips and now the spot of your temple that was still warm from his lips.

You quickly shook it off by the time that Karly popped up beside you with an unopened white claw, swinging it in front of your face and smiling brightly when you snatched it out of her hold. Unbeknownst to you but not flying under Karly’s radar, was the boy with bright blue eyes and shoulder length hair that had been watching you longer than he should have been.

Karly sent him a firm glare while your back was to him, silently testing him while also warning him. He rolled his eyes, unsure of when she had figured things out or what she had heard. He was sure you told a skewed version of the truth, surely roping Karly into believing Nolan was the spawn of satan. In all actuality, Karly didn’t think that. She thought that the things you told her about Nolan were great, and she knew you deserve someone like that. She did, however, know that you were also hurt by the things that Nolan had been doing and saying recently, and she’ll be damned if she lets him hurt you again.

So she kept an eye on Nolan all night, she made sure that he kept his distance from you while also trying to figure out what was going on between you and Joel. You leaned just a little further into him than you normally would and he seemed to always have a hold on you, whether it be his hands on your hips or an arm thrown over your shoulders.

The first time she could ask about it was when the two of you were dancing, not the only ones in the room but you were surely the only one that could hear her over the music. She wrapped her arms around your neck and brought her lips close to your ear to help drown out the sound to everyone else while also trying to eliminate the possibility of raising suspicion.

“So you and Beezer?” you smiled fondly, not even realizing that a toothy grin spread across your lips at the sound of Joel’s name.

“He’s just my best friend, K.” she rolled her eyes, unconvinced that’s all it was. She casted her eyes over your shoulder, catching the eyes of none other than the boy dressed as Hugh Hefner.

“I’d say the way he’s looking at you right now is not how I look at my friends. It is, however, the way I look at my boyfriend after being teased all night long.” you turned over your shoulder, catching Joel’s eyes with your own. He pushed a smile forward, one that eventually turned into a short laugh before he looked back at Morgan who was talking about something he had lost track of a while ago.

“We’re just friends.” Karly hummed, unconvinced but dropping the subject nonetheless.

If you weren’t thinking about it beforehand, now it would have been impossible to stop thinking about Joel. maybe it was the fact that you could still feel his hands on your hips, or the fact that almost every time you looked at him he was already looking at you. It felt impossible to stop thinking about him, to turn your mind off and stop thinking. It sucked, the dull ache finding its way back to your chest because no matter how much you were thinking of Joel, you couldn’t stop subconsciously looking for Nolan.

The way he didn’t have his arm slung around Mackayla’s shoulders like always brought a whisper of a smile to your face. She was talking to Jake about something that he looked amused over, whether it was the topic of their conversation or her hand gestures that amused him you weren’t sure of. He was hardly looking at her, opting to stare into his cup or up at Travis when he nudged him hard enough to grab his attention.

But then he looked up at you, holding eye contact with you for longer than either of you should have. His knuckles were white, his cheeks tinted red in a way that made you dizzy. You remembered a time when you’d smile at the sight of them, run your fingers over them and probably kiss them softly. Nolan would tell you to leave them alone, to ignore that they were even there but he didn’t mind when they made you smile like that.

It took you back to a time where you could cock your head to the side and ask him to meet you in the bathroom. There’d be rushed kisses and whispered affirmations, words that nobody outside of the two of you were ever going to hear but it didn’t matter because Nolan was the one saying it all to you.

But you couldn’t do that now. You couldn’t meet him upstairs or back at your apartment afterwards. He’d be going home with his girlfriend and you’d be going home alone. It was the harsh fact that you had been trying to accept for months at this point, but it didn’t hurt any less than it did the first time you saw Mackayla and realized that no matter how much you wanted to hate her, you couldn’t.

You took a deep breath and broke eye contact, opting to turn your focus to downing the rest of your drink before walking into the kitchen to grab another. You’d love to say that you were surprised when you heard the door open after you had shut it, but you weren’t. In fact, you’d be surprised if it hadn’t opened.

“Is there something going on with you and Beezer?” you fought back a laugh that sat in the back of your throat. Of course that’s what he cared about. Of course, even after all this time, he was still worried about what you were doing and who you were doing it with.

“Would there be a problem if there was?” you turned over your shoulder, not missing the way he had to peel his eyes off of your backside. Though, you couldn’t blame him for it. You look good in the black leotard and you were sure it wasn’t the first time tonight that he looked at you like that.

“So there is?” you rolled your eyes and turned back to your drink that was practically finished. You took a deep breath and exhaled through your nose, bringing the cup to your lips to take a large gulp of it before you turned back around and made a break for the exit.

“No, Nolan. There’s nothing going on between Joel and I but it’s not exactly your place to grill me if there was.” you went to give him a firm pat on the shoulder but he gripped your wrist lightly, turning you just enough so he could look at you properly.

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” the look of confusion mixed with hurt that took over your face filled him with regret. You had never done anything that should have given him the notion that you’d ever lie to him, but he felt the need to ask regardless. Now that he had, he had his answer and he wished he had just kept it to himself.

“Things would be a lot easier between us if I was able to lie to you.” despite the fact that he wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, there wasn’t enough time for you to explain your words to him before you were walking past him and out of the kitchen.

The alcohol swimming through your system had your eyes burning before the door had even shut behind you and while Nolan didn’t follow you out right after, that didn’t stop Joel from grabbing your hand and tugging you away from the room.

“I was just about to go in. I saw him follow you in there, are you okay?” he could tell you were in a bit of a daze. It was evident in the way your eyes didn’t meet his right away, the way that your breathing was slightly irregular and the way that when you looked up at him, he could tell you were still out of it.

“Huh? Yeah, yeah i’m okay.” he nodded slowly despite the fact that he wasn’t entirely convinced and agreed to dance with you when one of your favorite songs came on.

It felt like the night was never ending at this point. You’re not sure what time it was or how many white claws you had downed, but that was obvious by the way you were stumbling around the Giroux house. Joel hardly trusted you to go to the bathroom by yourself with the way you were stumbling everywhere.

He was persistent in walking behind you up the stairs, holding out his hands to stop you from falling backwards. He wasn’t much more sober than you were, but he was clearly handling it a lot better than you were. You tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest when he said he was going to wait outside for you, but then he offered to sit on the edge of the tub and while it was far from the thing you should have done, you were certain that you would mess up somewhere if you did it all on your own.

One thing you had forgotten about was the outfit you were wearing, and the fact that you practically had to strip in order to use the bathroom. So, with a low groan and a drunken laugh, you told Joel he had to stand in the shower while you peed, curtain closed and all. He did though, stand in the shower and stare at the tiled walls while he asked you if you were having a good night, all things considered.

When he heard the sink turn on and your voice telling him he could come back out, the shower curtain slid to the side and he stepped back out, a smile gracing his lips when he locked eyes with you in the mirror. He bumped your hip with his gently and gasped when you splashed water at him from the faucet, splashing you back without any hesitation.

“Oh that was a grave mistake, Farabee.” his eyebrows shot up, a silent questioning sitting on the tip of his tongue before he repeated his actions.

Somewhere along teasing comments and a few more splashes, the laughter dulled down and the faucet was turned off. Joel’s eyes were trained on you though, the alcohol in his system lowering his subtlety in the way he raked your body up and down. It wasn’t subtle and it sent a chill down your spine, the fact that he was openly checking you out unapologetically.

He leaned closer, or maybe you leaned closer, it was unclear who made which move first and who was just simply following suit but within mere seconds, your lips were pressed against Joel’s. His hands found the back of your thighs with ease and lifted you up onto the countertop, giving him the ability to press his lips further into yours.

You got caught up in the heat of the moment. The way his lips felt against yours felt so familiar, like you had kissed him in another life. It felt easy and natural, and right. It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced, even holding his head in yours while you kissed him back just as feverishly.

You were in a daze until he pulled his lips back from yours and pressed them against the skin of your neck, making a path of his own on the way down to the spot of your neck that met your shoulder. Maybe it was the fact that he settled in an all too familiar spot of your neck, or the way that his hands couldn’t seem to hold enough of you, but you ripped out of the moment. Everything around you started coming back, reminding you of what you were doing in the bathroom of a Halloween party where all of your friends were just downstairs.

“Joel.” you whispered softly, trying to get a firm grip on reality rather than allowing yourself to get lost in the boy that was still nipping and sucking at your skin.

“Yeah baby?” the rasp in his voice sent a shockwave through your body, making your head fall back ever so slightly at the same time a low whine passed your lips.

“We can’t do this.”

“Why’s that?” he switched sides, grabbing the underside of your jaw and turning your head enough to give him access to the other side of your neck.

“Because we can’t Joel. you’re my best friend-”

“Oh bullshit.” he pulled back then, pupils blown out and lips slightly swollen. Red tinted his cheeks and the soft pants rolling past his lips mimicked the way his mind was racing. “Haven’t you heard anyone say that falling in love with your best friend is the best decision you can make?” your heart fell into your stomach, your shoulders slumping at the sound of his question.

Falling in love? You didn’t think Joel was anywhere near in love with you. You’d guess maybe a crush or some surface level feelings but full blown love? There was something holding you back, not allowing you to get to that point with anyone after what you’d been through. You couldn’t just forget about all of it as if it hadn’t happened, as if it didn’t still affect you.

“Say something.” the desperation in his voice killed you, somehow breaking your heart even further. The way his lust clouded vision turned to one of pleading tugged at your heartstrings in a way that had you speaking before you could even think about it.

“I still love him, Bee.” Joel’s head fell then, his hands moving to grip the edge of the counter on either side of you as he tried to catch his breath. “Joel-”

“Don’t bother. I get it. It’s always going to be Patty, right?” he looked up at you, hoping that you’d rush to tell him that’s not what you meant, but that never came.

Instead you bit your lower lip, chewing the anxiety away as you tried to find the words to describe the situation. By the time you could think of anything worth saying, Joel was already turning the knob and slamming the door shut behind him. The sound made you jump just before you leaned back against the mirror, trying to rid yourself of the mess you just made for yourself.

Joel rushed down the stairs in search of something to drink, anything that would save him from his mind. He couldn’t stop replaying it over in his head, the way your hands felt on the sides of his face or locked in his hair. The way your lips felt against his or the way you reacted to his touch. He couldn’t get the sight of your blown out pupils and swollen lips, two things he had caused, out of his head. He couldn’t get you out of his head.

When he found Phil and Morgan passing a flask back and forth, he held his out for it and downed about half of it before Phil tried to swat it away from his lips, noticing something severely wrong with Joel. None of them noticed you jog down the stairs and bolt out back, in search of fresh air and a space where there weren’t many people around.

“You alright Beezer?” Phil asked just before tipping the flask enough to take a swig from it.

“Other than the fact that I may have just fucked everything up, I’m fine.” Morgan realized what he meant first, given that he’d heard Joel talk about you more often than anyone else on the team. Morgan was the one he went to when he couldn’t go to you, this being one of their main conversation topics.

“What did you do?” Joel’s eyes lingered on Morgan for a bit and when he pushed out a heavy sigh to procrastinate the words he was about to say, he only allowed the time for Nolan to walk past him just in time to hear everything he was going to say.

“I think I almost slept with y/n.” Nolan came to a screeching halt behind him, eyes snapping to meet Phil’s who was completely clueless to the tension currently building up.

“You what?” Joel’s neck practically snapped with how quickly he turned over his shoulder, coming face to face with the broody boy who was seething right in front of him.

“Nothing. I uh, that came out wrong.” Nolan didn’t believe him though. With the way Joel was stumbling over his words and avoiding eye contact, Nolan knew there was something worth digging into.

Nolan walked away from the three of them, eyes scanning the room, no doubt in search of you. His fists were clenched and his focus was completely thrown off. He had forgotten about everything else going on around him, everyone else that stood inside of the house.

He saw you through the sliding glass door, a smile sitting on your face that he knew held no weight to it. He knew that whatever Jake was telling you was probably funny, but he knew there were other things on your mind. Both because he knew you well enough to know when something was on your mind but also because he had just heard Joel say that there was something for you to be thinking about.

He yanked the back door open, not caring for a single second if it slammed open or shut, or if it even shut at all behind him. He didn’t care if he was attracting attention to himself or if he was about to accidentally air out a bunch of dirty laundry for not only himself, but you and Joel as well.

“So you’re a liar now?” your head turned at the loud voice calling out to you from the opposite side of the yard, worry and fear intertwining in the back of your mind.

“What are you talking about?” Jake and Claude had forgotten what their conversation was even about by the time Nolan was halfway across the yard, anger clearly written into his expression.

“You fucked Beezer?” your eyes blew wide open, along with the two men at your side that were rudely interrupted by a false accusation.

“No! What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about whatever happened between you and Beezer that you told me was surely not happening.” you rolled your eyes now, more annoyed with the fact that he was digging this deep into something he had no business knowing about rather than the fact that he was yelling at you in front of your families.

“Why do you even care, Nolan?”

“He’s my teammate! How am i supposed to play on a line with him when i know he’s-”

“He’s what?” you stood up now, standing face to face with the boy who was clearly causing a scene. Even the people still standing inside were watching through the door that still hadn’t shut from Nolan’s dramatic exit/entrance.

“He’s touched you!”

“It was just a kiss for fuck’s sake!” Joel wouldn’t admit that his heart sank at the comment. What was ‘just a kiss’ to you was much more to him. It was everything he’d wanted to for as long as he could remember, but he’d keep that to himself too.

“It’s the principle!” his words irritated you. He was irritating you. You’re not sure how it was his business to know, let alone who gave him the right to be mad about it.

“You’re not my boyfriend, Nolan!” he clenched his fists at the fact. He knew that, he was painfully aware of that. All it did was remind him that the girl he wanted more than anything wouldn’t meet him halfway.

“Well that doesn’t mean he can be!”

“And why the hell not?”

“Because i’m still in love with you!” it was bad timing, truly. In theory, someone probably should have stopped her from stepping outside while the two of you were fighting, but nobody did. Nobody stopped Mackayla from hearing everything that Nolan said, everything that he had denied to her for as long as they’d been together, and they didn’t stop her from walking out into the backyard just as her boyfriend was confessing his love for another girl.

You deflated at the sight of her, shoulders slumping when you realized that you were responsible for two people’s heart breaks tonight. Three if you counted Nolan, but you didn’t. He’d been like this for a long time it seemed and while you wanted to fix that, one thing Nolan was right about was the fact that there was too much damage between the two of you to backtrack now.

“You’re in love with her?” Nolan’s eyes fluttered shut at the sound of her voice, mind racing over all the ways he messed up in the past that led to this moment. His girlfriend of x amount of months was now standing behind him, her heart in her stomach and her cheeks wet as she witnessed her boyfriend confess that he was in love with the girl she’d been worried about for the entirety of their relationship.

“Mack.” he whispered gently, turning around to face the girl who had already given up on him. There was no way he could fix this. He had told her too many times to count that nothing had ever happened between you and him. He promised her that you weren’t somebody she needed to worry about, but he told everyone that it seemed. “Mack I didn’t mean to-”

She turned and ran back into the house before Nolan could even finish his thought. While he wanted to turn around and drill into you for fucking up another thing for him, he knew it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything you weren’t allowed to do and he made a mess for himself. He didn’t walk into a mess you built, didn’t try to fix someone who didn’t need fixing, but he did break two girls who deserved the world.

“Good job.” you mumbled to yourself, bumping his arm with your shoulder when you walked past him and tried to follow Mackayla when he made no effort to.

“Y/n-” you spun at the sound of your name, angry tears building up in your eyes at the look on his face, a look that made you feel guilty for something you were more than allowed to do.

“No! You don’t get to berate me. You don’t get to belittle me or tell me that I made a mistake. I’m allowed to do whatever the fuck I want to. You left me, remember? You left me and you told me that I needed to let you be happy. I tried, Nolan. I tried so hard to let you be happy and now you’re screaming at me in front of everybody because of what? Because I might be starting to be happy without you? You don’t get to be angry at me for finding a way to fix myself. Just leave me alone.” by the time you passed by everyone who was looking at the floor rather than up at you, you knew that you should leave anyways.

With your phone in one hand and your shoes in the other, you ran outside and sighed at the relief you felt when you found Mackayla sitting on the curb.

“Mackayla!” you ran down the driveway towards her, wincing at the sight of her glaring harshly at you. “Mackayla I’m so sorry.”

She wiped her cheeks and nose and let out a heavy sigh. In reality, she couldn’t be mad at you. You didn’t do anything wrong in her mind and you surely weren’t the one that lied to her. Sure, it wasn’t her first choice to hang out with the girl that inherently stole her boyfriend from her, but she also figured that she had stolen your boyfriend in a way so she guessed that made the two of you even.

“He sucks.” you laughed gently and sat beside her, opening your phone while you plopped down on the curb beside her.

“He does.” you paused for a moment before smiling over at her. “You’re staying with him, aren’t you?” she nodded slowly, realizing that she didn’t have anywhere to go or any of her things. “Well I'm about to order an uber if you want to crash at my place for the night. I’ll answer any questions you want and I’ll help you get your shit from his place in the morning.”

She hesitated, clearly not ready to accept your offer with a wide smile and an open mind. She hardly knew you, and she wasn’t ready to forget about all of the things she was beginning to realize about you and Nolan’s relationship.

But she agreed, because she truly had nowhere else to go. She sat at your dining room table with you in a pair of your sweatpants and a shirt you had promised her was not Nolan’s. She drank your coffee out of one of your mugs and asked you every question that had plagued her over the course of her relationship with Nolan. Not all of them were about you, not even all of them were about Nolan, but you answered them all regardless.

You helped her get her things in the morning from Nolan’s and drove her to the airport when she was able to rebook her flight back home. You apologized ten more times and she waved off every one of them by telling you that you didn’t do anything wrong other than be the love of Nolan’s life, which wasn’t your fault entirely.

Karly was there to help pick up the pieces the best that she could, though it was hard with her not always being in Philly. She tried to fill the space in your life that Joel left when he stopped coming around for movie nights and take out dinners. You fully stopped going to Flyers games, finding no use in showing up to them anymore.

Every call you made was sent to voicemail, every text left unread. You were being shut out, and you couldn’t do anything about it. Travis tried to assure you it wasn’t your fault, you just didn’t notice your best friend falling in love with you because you were trying to fall out of love with his teammate. He told you to just give Joel time, but you were stuck believing that ‘time’ may never have an ending.

So you threw yourself into your work. You submitted projects before their due dates and received positive feedback on just about every portion of them. It was a healthy coping mechanism, a way to shift your focus onto something productive. You did such a good job, in fact, that your boss called you into his office after a few months.

It was nerve wracking, to be called into your boss’s office with no clues as to why. It was even more nerve wracking after you had left and your hands were slightly shaking. The weight put onto your shoulders was unlike any you’d ever experienced, plagues with a decision to make all on your own. It wasn’t a decision you wanted, not one you had even been close to looking for, but it’s one that you got.

It’s one that lingered in the back of your mind for weeks afterwards, still never reaching a decision. The flexible timeline gave you all the time in the world to decide, and your boss wasn’t pushing you in either direction, though you slightly wished he would have.

But then you told Karly about said decision, and the way you watched her face fall told you that she knew what your decision would be. In all actuality, you knew what your decision was. If you were going to say no, you would have by now. You would have denied the offer and stuck with your current life, boring or not.

You were practically tackled the second you stepped foot in Travis’s apartment, his arms thrown around you as he leaned into you just enough to throw off your balance. Phil followed close behind, wrapping you up in his arms and telling you that you weren’t allowed to disappear for that long ever again. Karly’s sideways glance in your direction went unseen to everyone but you, mostly because you silently told her to drop it, given that now was not the time to be talking about this.

But then you felt your heart sink further into your chest with every passing second. It was nice to be around all the people that made Philly feel like home to you, but it made your decision harder. Not because you had to choose which side you were on anymore, but because it made your choice that much harder to accept.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so hard if Joel wasn’t going out of his way to ignore you. The way he ducked out of your way any time he got close to you, or the way he purposefully stood on the opposite side of the room when the only open seat was beside you. You noticed the way he steered clear of you and while you wanted to be upset that you didn’t have your best friend to make these things easier for you, you knew that Joel was doing this for his own good, not to hurt you.

So you found yourself on Travis’s balcony with Karly, your head leaning on her shoulder while you swung a bottle back and forth between your fingers. The sound of the door opening behind you made you turn over your shoulder, eyes locking with the same pair of blue eyes that you knew you’d have to face at some point.

“I’ll let you two talk.” Karly whispered gently before standing up and ducking back inside.

Nolan closed the door this time, making it a habit in everything he did nowadays. He sat beside you, his knee knocking into yours gently. He didn’t know what to say to you, didn’t know how to apologize for all of the things he had put you through. The two of you had something beautiful once, you’re not sure when it turned itself upside down but it didn’t matter anymore. Not when things were about to change so drastically. Maybe not for him, but definitely for you.

“I’m shocked your lap dog’s not out here.” you rolled your eyes, finding it ridiculous that you thought he would start this conversation on a positive note.

“Why don’t you sit there and i’ll sit here and we can keep to ourselves until one of us wants to go back inside.” he sighed, like he regretted starting off on the wrong foot.

“We can’t even try to be nice to each other?” you turned to him then, giving him a look he hadn’t seen in a long time. It reminded him of times where you’d let the stress from school and work pile up, when you looked at him with an exhaustion that he couldn’t help. It was how you looked right before you stress cried, right before you’d normally turn into his chest and unload everything you’d been holding on to for far too long.

“I’ve tried being nice to you. I’ve tried letting you live your life but the second I started doing that, you stopped letting me live mine. I think you only want me to be happy if you’re the one that’s making me happy and that’s fucked. I lost my best friend over it. I lost the love of my life. It feels like I'm losing everything and I'm starting to think this isn’t the place I need to be anymore.” the latter part of your rant slipped without you even realizing it.

“What are you saying?” you shook your head, chewing on the side of your cheek and deciding not to dive into. Nolan didn’t care, and he was not the person you needed to be talking to about these things.

“Nothing. Forget about it.”

“Y/n. You’ve never been good at opening up but you’re clearly struggling. I know I'm not your first choice right now but I'm the only one that’s here. There was a time when I was your go to person for this sort of thing. So just tell me, what are you talking about?” you stared at him, hesitation evident in the way you were chewing on your tongue.

He was right, though. At one point, he was the person you called when things went wrong. He was the one you unloaded things onto at the end of the day when he asked what was worrying you. You told him your problems, shared your demons with him. If there was anybody who knew how you got when things were ruining you from the inside out, it was Nolan.

“I got a promotion.” a small smile spread across his lips, excitement and pride filling his chest. He always supported your work ventures, and he knew that they were crazy to ever think that you wouldn’t be their top employee sooner or later.

“Y/n that’s great.” you shook your head slowly, heart deflating in your chest before you pushed out the vital information that he hadn’t been looking for.

“It’s in Vancouver.”

He didn’t know what to say. On one hand, he wanted to say no. no, you can’t go to Vancouver. No, you can’t leave Philly behind. No, they don’t need you up there, they need you down here. He wanted to grovel, to fall to his knees and to beg you to stay. Stay in an apartment that he knew like the back of his hand, stay in a city where he knows you’re never too far. He wanted to say that moving to Vancouver was crazy and you’d regret it before you even had time to settle in.

But he couldn’t do that, because the other half of him was louder and logical. You deserved the promotion, deserved the raise that came with it despite where the job was. Nolan knew that Philly held things that you wanted to forget about, reminded you of times in your life that were only painful to think about at this point. You didn’t want to be here anymore, that much Nolan could tell. If you didn’t want to be here, you shouldn’t have to be.

“I think that would be good for you.” it was hard for him to say, tasting just as vile as it was to think about you going to another city.

Would you go to Canucks games? Would he have to see you dressed in blue and green rather than orange and black? Would you start hanging out with the Canucks roster like you did with the Flyers or would you avoid hockey completely? Maybe you’d date one of their players or maybe you’d make sure that anybody even remotely affiliated with hockey stayed far away from you. He didn’t know what the future held for you, but he hoped it was filled with joy and relief from the things you’d endured in Philly.

It hurt you to hear him say it just as much as it hurt him to say it. You could see that there were more thoughts swimming through his mind, that he wasn’t telling you everything he was thinking. Part of you wanted him to beg you to stay, to say that he was single now and everyone knew about the two of you anyway. You wanted him to say that maybe one more shot would finally do the trick, but you knew he wouldn’t and you knew that jumping back into anything with Nolan was far from a good idea.

Then there was Joel. Joel who had feelings for you that you never got the chance to hear about. There was a place for you and Joel, you knew that, but you thought it was unattainable. To be with Joel after everything between you and Nolan, it’d be a catastrophe. There wasn’t a possibility of you going back to being best friends, not when he had feelings for you that weren’t unrequited. You could pour your heart out to Joel, could tell him that you could see yourself falling in love with him if he was willing to be patient with you. But you couldn’t do that either. Not when you had finally come to the conclusion that you needed to move to Vancouver in order to put yourself back together.

That didn’t stop you from looking over your shoulder though, gazing at the boy who was impossible to rid your mind of. His smile made your heart clench, the way his head tilted back and his eyes screwed shut behind his glasses. He was beautiful in every sense of the word and while you loved the sound of a world where the two of you fell in love with zero complications, you knew that you were holding onto false hope.

“You should tell him. I don’t doubt he’ll show up on your doorstep in Vancouver if you don’t.” you laughed gently and turned back to face Nolan, hardly aware of when you had turned away from him. He wore a gentle smile, one that told you that even if you took this step, he would still be here for you. Maybe not in the ways that you previously needed him to be, but there was always room for building a new foundation.

“I will in a bit.” you whispered gently, sinking into your seat and lying your head on Nolan’s shoulder.

You’d miss this; he noisy bunch inside right behind you, the skyline you could see from Tk’s balcony. You’d miss the feeling of being close to Nolan, if only having your head on his shoulder while you sat in silence. You’d miss excitedly running into his apartment with new song recommendations, or him sending you a short playlist he made on the road for you. You’d miss waking up in the middle of the night to him tossing and turning until you brought him painkillers and a tall glass of water.

You’d miss Joel slamming his way into your apartment with a bright smile that meant he was having a dangerous thought. You’d miss the times you’d bring his back to the rink when he forgot it at home, or the way that he brought you lunch on days when you were too busy to send him a simple text that told him you were okay. You’d miss lying your head in his lap and looking up at him with nothing but love in your chest.

You’d miss going to Flyers games and watching your friends do the thing they loved most. You’d miss watching Joel score insane goals that you were always unsure of how he made them. You’d miss wearing Nolan’s Flyers paraphernalia and splitting snacks with Karly.

You’d miss it all, but you had to go. You had to go for you, because Philly isn't home anymore. It would always hold a special place in your heart, but so would all of the people in it. And you knew you needed to lead all of them behind as well.

Even the ones with bright blue eyes that would be burned into your memory for the rest of your life.

#nolan patrick #nolan patrick x reader #nolan x reader #nolpat #joel farabee #joel farabee x reader #joel x reader #beezer #philadelphia flyers #flyers #nhl #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nolan patrick imagine #joel farabee imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years

Text

Hero Complex | Owen Patrick Joyner

Requested by anonymous: Hi!! Can you do one where the reader is Jeremys little sister and she comes to set and hits it off with Owen and they start to hang out a lot and Jeremy gets really protective of her

A/N: I hope this is what you were looking for!

Pairing: Owen Patrick Joyner x Little Shada!Reader, Jeremy Shada x Little Sister!Reader

Warnings: fluff, big fight, anxiety

Words: 7,084

Reader’s POV

Jeremy and I have been the best of friends ever since the day I was born. He might be my older brother, but I’ve always considered him more like my best friend. We used to play games together when we were younger where I’d pretend to be a princess and he was the knight protecting my castle from dragons and dangerous monsters. Or, when we were in a swimming pool, I’d pretend to be a mermaid and he was my dolphin. We played so many pretend games, I’d lost track of most of them. When we got older and made a lot of new friends, we still tried to take at least one night in the week where we’d spend time together, whether it was watching movies together or jamming or just chatting about absolute nonsense or going out together. I even got to be his best (wo)man when he married Carolynn about a month ago, and we’ve been calling each other non-stop since he started this new project of his with Netflix called Julie and The Phantoms. I helped him prepare for his audition and was equally as excited as he was when he got it. This role was written for him. Though, when bootcamp and filming started, it did mean I’d have to miss him for a very long time since he was all the way in Vancouver for months on end. So, now I’ve come up with the idea to go and visit him and Carolynn in Canada. I’d called Carolynn to help me out and surprise him. She picked me up from the airport just a few minutes ago, and as we’re catching up in the car, I can’t help but feel giddy at seeing my brother again. It feels ages since I’ve last seen him at his wedding. That’s also when I saw the rest of the cast last. Jeremy had introduced me to the ones that were at the party, and I loved hanging out with them. It felt like being introduced to one big family that quickly became part of my own family. That was one fun night, but that’s all it was. One night of spending time with all these people and then never hearing or seeing them again. To be fair, they were all really busy with rehearsals and filming and everything. “Are you ready?” Carolynn asks when we’re at the door of their Vancouver apartment. “Yes!” I reply in a hushed voice, just to make sure Jeremy doesn’t hear me. Carolynn unlocks the door and walks in first, I follow suit. My eyes dart around quickly to take in as much as possible before the two of us turn a corner to the living room here Jeremy’s on the couch, watching something on the tv. “What’re you watching, bro?” His head snaps up at the sound of my voice, his eyes widening as he takes in my presence. “No way!” he exclaims as he gets up quickly and rushes over to me, taking me in his arms in a bone-crushing hug. “I can’t believe you’re here!” he mumbles in my ear as he twirls me around. “I wanted to surprise you,” I tell him as he puts me down again, taking my hands in his instead. “I don’t go back to college until like next week, so I figured, why not?” I’m overexplaining again, I know it. Jeremy doesn’t care how I’m here, he just cares that I’m here. “You wanna come to Set with me today?” he asks with this sparkle in his eyes he only gets when he’s really excited about something. “I’m sure the others would love to see you again!” I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips as I think about how much fun they all were at the wedding. There’s no denying that I’d love to see them again too. So, I nod my head eagerly, earning an excited squeal from the boy in front of me. “The driver will be here in half an hour, you need some time to freshen up after your flight?” “Yes, please!” Carolynn guides me to the bathroom where she puts out a pair of towels for me. I shoot her a thankful smile and when she’s out of the bathroom, I get into the shower. Once I’m all dressed and ready to go, the driver is already in front of the building. “Hey, Darren,” Jeremy greets as he gets in. “My little sister’s coming with me today.” He buckles himself into the seat as I do the same. “Hi, I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you,” I say to the driver. He gives me a kind smile through the rearview mirror, letting out a small ‘hi’. He must not be very talkative. “What scenes are you filming today?” I ask my brother instead whilst the driver heads down to the next stop. “I think there’s a gig scene we’re filming today,” he answers, and the car comes to a standstill. “We’ve got about ten more minutes before Charlie and Owen head down. You want some coffee?” My eyes bulge out of their sockets at the thought of caffeine alone. I’ve been up for so long, I could use a good shot of wakeup-juice. “Guess that’s a yes. Let’s go!” he lets out a chuckle before getting out of the car with me in tow. “Do I need to remember anything I can or can’t do on set?” I ask the only thought that’s been haunting my mind since coming up with this idea. I knew he was going to have to work, and I also knew he would want to bring me to set. As a newbie to this entire world of filming a show, I worried I would be in the way or say the wrong things or break something. I knew I needed some pointers from my best friend to calm me down. “Just try not to trip over anything, Clumsy,” he simply answers before turning to the barista. This coffee shop seems really quiet at this time of the day, there are no customers at the counter. Just a few at the tables, most of them with their laptops open. “A large coffee with two extra espresso shots, and a medium black coffee to go, please,” he tells the man behind the counter. “Can I get your names, please?” he asks with the pen in hand. “You can write Shada on both of them,” Jeremy answers. The man nods his head curtly before scribbling down the name on both cups. He pays the barista and then moves to the end of the counter, pulling me along. “Filming with Kenny Ortega is really chill, Lil’ One, no need to worry,” he reassures me, taking me into a side-way hug, planting a kiss to my hair. “I’m just really nervous to be on a set, does that sound ridiculous?” I ask, twisting the bracelet around my wrist. It’s the one I got from Jeremy and Carolynn for Christmas last year. “No, I think that’s pretty normal. I ought to bring you to set more often, get you used to it all.” “Yeah,” I agree in a hushed voice, going over every possible situation that could go wrong. My train of thought is interrupted by the barista calling out our last name, sliding the two cups over at us. I grab the large cup whilst Jeremy takes his, and exit the joint to head back to the car. “Oh, seems like we’re right on time,” he points out, waving at two boys near the car. The brunette I know as Charlie, waves back before hopping into the front seat next to Darren. The blonde guy, better known as Owen, doesn’t get in yet, and instead waits for us to reach the car. He holds the door open for me, letting me get in first before hopping in himself. Jeremy jogs to the other side, getting in there. Now I’m squeezed between the two boys, clutching my coffee as if my life depends on it. “It’s good to see you again, lil’ Shada,” Charlie says, turning to face us. I giggle at the nickname. They’d called me that at the wedding. The entire night. “Surprising your big brother?” I nod my head in response. “Yeah, I didn’t have anything better to do, so… Came to annoy my brother and his buddies at work.” This makes all three boys laugh, which, not going to lie, makes me feel ten times more at ease. I thought seeing the boys again would be awkward. It’s anything but that. They make me feel so relaxed, and as though I’m a part of their group. Once we’re at the set, Jeremy introduces me to most of the crew and the rest of the cast, but especially Kenny Ortega. “Oh, look at that! Lil’ Shada’s here!” he says, opening his arms for a hug, which I gladly give him. I did meet him at the wedding, but it was so brief, I didn't think he’d remember me. “Hi, Kenny!” I greet excitedly and then let go of him. “You don’t mind if I hang around the set the next couple of days, right?” He inspects me from head to toe, eyebrows raised, and I can’t help the anxiety that’s welling up inside of me. I knew I shouldn’t have come over, I knew this was a bad idea. Kenny doesn’t want me here. I’m just going to be in the way of his mastermind working its magic on this show. I’m going to be a distraction for the actors, especially Jeremy. “Of course I don’t mind, Lil’ Shada! Jeremy's family is my family!” The pressures and intrusive thoughts wash away immediately. Those are the words I needed to hear. I sometimes think I need too much affirmation and confirmation, that other people get annoyed. My therapist told me that’s just my anxious brain speaking. He said if I want confirmation, I need to ask for it. Jeremy has been a great sport in my mental health journey from the very beginning. He took me to my sessions, did the exercises my therapist gave me with me. He’s always making sure I’m okay and gives me the confirmation I need whenever he feels I need it. Which is always at the right moment. “See, Lil’ One? Told you it would be okay!” I shoot both the men a thankful and relieved smile. Kenny places a hand on my shoulder as he passes me, leaving Jeremy and me all by ourselves. “You wanna go to makeup and wardrobe with me?” he asks, to which I nod. He then grabs my hand and leads me to the destined trailer. The second I step inside, I hear an ear-piercing screech coming from one of the chairs, and before I know it, I’m engulfed in a group hug by two pairs of arms. The sweet floral scent entering my nose tells me who it is without having to look at them. Savannah Lee May and Victoria Caro. “Hi, girlies,” I giggle, hugging them back equally as tight. The two let go of me, keeping me at arms length to inspect my entire being. Their make-up is only half done, Savannah’s hair is curled to perfection whilst Tori’s is put up in curlers. “I can’t believe you’re here, Lil’ Shada!” Savannah says, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “We were just talking about you last night,” she points at Tori, who nods vigorously. “Yeah! We were wondering when we’d see you again because we missed you after your brother’s wedding!” the smaller girl explains. My heart melts at the idea of these two girls caring so much about me, they’re wondering when they’d see me again. “Aw, you guys! I missed you too!” I pout, trying my hardest not to start crying from happiness. “Hey! What about us?!” Owen’s voice sounds from the back of the trailer. I turn around to find him in the last chair, getting his hair done. “I missed you too, Owen, but I already saw you earlier!” I tell him whilst making my way to Madison and Jadah in the other chairs. I hug them each from behind, making sure not to ruin their neatly-done hair. “Yeah! But you didn’t say you missed us!” he exclaims. His bottom lip sticks out in a pout. Shaking my head, I make my way towards him and place my hands on his shoulders as I stand behind him. “I thought that was a given,” I whisper in his ear and then turn again to find Sacha and my brother near the doorway. The latter is looking at me with happiness emanating from his eyes. “Hey, Sacha!” I offer the boy a wave, which he returns with a smile. A busy-looking woman squeezes past me towards Owen, so I take a step back to give her more room. I watch her as she plays around with his hair, using spritzes of hairspray to keep it in place. I always loved doing other people’s hair when I was younger. I braided all of my cousins’ hair or used curlers on them whilst playing ‘hair-dresser’. My love for hairdressing went out the door as I got older and more anxious, but seeing this woman play around with Owen’s hair so determinedly, it reawakens the desire and enthusiasm. “This is Teresa,” Owen says when he catches me staring at his head and Teresa’s fingers. “She’s a magician when it comes to hair.” Teresa shoots me a kind smile through the mirror, which I nervously return. They caught me staring, that must’ve been a weird -- and kind of creepy, let’s be honest -- sight. “Y/N used to dream about becoming a hairdresser,” Jeremy informs them when he’s taken a seat in one of the chairs too. As both Teresa and Owen look at me with surprise in their eyes, I feel the heat rising to my cheeks. “You wanna give it a try?” Teresa asks, stepping aside from Owen. I open my mouth in pure horror, not knowing what to tell her. There’s no way I could ever do what Teresa’s doing. What if I mess it up entirely? What if I ruin all the work Teresa has put into his hair? What if I ruin Owen’s hair? “There’s not much you can do wrong with Owen’s hair. It pretty much just does what you ask,” Teresa tries to reassure me after probably seeing the absolute horror in my face. I glance at Owen in the mirror. He gives me an encouraging nod. “Okay…” I mumble and step up to his chair. “How do you need his hair?” I ask Teresa. Owen’s character Alex probably has a specific way to how he wears his hair. He’s a ghost from the 90’s, I’m sure it’s a little different from his usual hairstyle. “Leonardo DiCaprio from Titanic,” Teresa simply replies, which is enough for me to know. I nervously raise my fingers to Owen’s head, suddenly anxious about the fact that I’m going to be touching this attractive man’s hair. My eyes dart over to his reflection in the mirror, our eyes locking. He licks his lips before they curl up into a smile that gives me enough encouragement to just go for it. I play around with it a little and grab a comb to guide me before asking the hairspray. Teresa hands me the bottle and I spritz some more of the product onto his blonde locks. Though Teresa has already done the works, pretty much, I’m just left with the finishing touches. It takes me about five minutes to get it in perfect shape. “You can tell you’ve had years of practice,” Teresa says, impressed at my work. “I mean, you pretty much did the gist, I just… finished it…” I trail off shyly. I avert my eyes from Teresa to Owen, who’s checking himself out in the mirror. “No offense, T,” he starts, turning to Teresa, “But I think someone’s coming for your job.” I’m frozen to the floor from the compliments that I don’t even move when Owen gets up from his chair and turns around. Suddenly, he’s mere inches away from me and all I can do is crane my neck to look up at him. A vibe I never felt around him when I first met him surrounds us now, resting down on us like a blanket. I don’t know why this is happening or how, but all I can see for a good minute is Owen and his tender smile. Until he places his hands on my waist, picks me up, and puts me down again a feet further. “I gotta go,” he says with a smile, “See you around, Lil’ Shada.” He boops my nose. The sudden movement startles me a little. I watch him walk out of the trailer before I come back from my daze and find everyone else in the trailer looking at me. “What?!” I ask, confused at why I’m being stared at. “What was that about?” Jadah asks, chuckling as she turns to face me. “What was what?” I ask again, seriously unaware what had just happened. “You, pretty much drowning in Owen’s eyes,” Madison reminds me. The thought of Owen’s eyes looking into mine just minutes ago warms me up from the inside out. Especially the nose-boop. “What?! No, I wasn’t,” I deny, but I don’t think I can hide it from either of these people. Thank God Jeremy had left before Owen. He would not have liked that. Jeremy is an amazing brother, but he can get a little overprotective when it comes to love-interests. “I’m gonna go…” I cough awkwardly, trying to come up with a good excuse, “Find my brother…” That feeling I had in that trailer doesn’t subside for the rest of the day. Sometimes I think it does, and then Owen looks my way or sends me a wink from the other side of the room and I’m back to feeling absolutely and utterly mushy. “Hey, you wanna go get lunch with us, Lil’ One?” Jeremy asks around noon when they’re done filming the scene. I take a look behind him, Owen and Charlie standing there, awaiting my answer. I lock eyes with Owen again, and he offers me a beautiful smile that persuades me. “Yeah, sure,” I reply and link my arm with Jeremy’s. The two other boys fall into step with us, Owen on my left, Charlie on Jeremy’s right. “Where are the others?” I ask. Not that I don’t like the idea of having lunch with these three boys. I just really like hanging out with the others too. “They had to start filming another scene, they had lunch earlier,” Jeremy informs me as we enter the restaurant on the other side of the street from the lot. Owen takes a seat next to me while Jeremy and Charlie sit down on the opposite side of the table. “So, Lil’ Shada,” Charlie starts after we’ve ordered our food and drinks. “I heard you did Owen’s hair this morning…” I am taken aback by his subject of choice, especially since he makes it sound so teasing. My eyes dart from my brother to Charlie and back, unsure of what to say. Owen jumps to the rescue then, feeling me tense up beside him. “Yeah, she did a wonderful job! Her fingers are kinda like magic.” I look up at him, earning a smile from him in return. “Yeah, well, what can I say? It’s a talent,” I flip my hair over my shoulder confidently, though in my mind I’m wondering where all this confidence comes from. Even Jeremy is a little surprised by it whilst the other boys just laugh. “Maybe you should ask Kenny to start next week,” Charlie suggests with an excited grin. “Yeah! Then you could stay with us longer!” Owen’s enthusiasm dazzles me even more so than the words that come out of his mouth. He wants me to stay longer… “I still have to get through college, you guys. I can’t just quit?” I’m catapulted back into reality as those words roll off my mouth. “Do you know how much college costs?!” Owen and Charlie share a glance, wondering if either one of them knows. “I’m an actor, Lil’ Shada, so no…” Owen whispers in my ear without breaking eye contact with his buddy on the other side of the table. I let out a laugh, shaking my head in amusement. “How long are you staying?” Charlie then asks, his eyes flickering from me to Owen and back. “A week. I start college again next Monday,” I reply when the waitress finally brings us our food. “Thank you,” I say to her with a smile, the others doing the same. “So, you’re just gonna stay a week?” Owen queries before taking a bite from his lunch. “Yep… Going home on Sunday,” I answer. The disappointment in his face is prominent. “But I might come back soon if Jeremy will let me.” My eyes dart over to my brother, who hasn’t said much since we sat down. “Can’t really say no to Lil’ Shada, can I?” My lips curl up in thankfulness. “Besides, I think the rest of the cast would hate my ass if I took you away from them.” His eyes flick towards Owen for a split second. He has caught on to the vibe Owen and I have been giving off towards each other. Maybe it’s not just in my mind. “That’s very true,” Owen agrees, his mouth full of food. I turn my head to look at him, eyebrows raised at his immature way of eating his food. My eyes then fall on his chin, which has a little dressing seeping down it. I raise my hand and swipe my finger across his skin, taking the sauce away. He freezes at that moment, halting mid-chew. “Dressing,” I show him before licking it off my thumb. He swallows harshly and when I look back at the boys on the other side of the table, they’re staring at me too with wide eyes. “Someone ought to get this dude a bib,” I joke, trying to take the tension away. Charlie lets out a laugh, nodding his head agreeingly before turning back to his food. My brother, however, just raises his eyebrows at me. He doesn’t love the idea of his little sister being intimate with anyone. Especially not one of his best buddies. I can’t help it though. I’m a twenty-one year old woman, I have feelings. I have hormones. Jeremy’s overprotectiveness isn’t going to take away the fun from this week. I’m not going to let it.

And I don’t. I spend the entire week on set, either hanging out with some of the girls or with my brother and the other boys. Teresa lets me help out in the mornings with the cast’s hair, teaching me some new tips and tricks. If anything, it just brings me closer to the cast, which is a nice bonus. Mainly because it also brings me closer to Owen. The connection we created during my time in Vancouver has only grown from that first day. Whenever Jeremy’s not around or he can’t hear it, the two of us harmlessly flirt with one another and, whenever he doesn’t have a scene to shoot, we hang out together. One day, he took me to Julie’s bedroom set where we sat on her bed and talked until we fell asleep huddled up into a cuddle. Jeremy wasn’t happy when he found us like that. Even though I did tell him it was just an innocent nap. He didn’t take it. My brother’s disapproval didn’t stop us though. We just kept going to that set to take a nap together. It has become my favorite part of the day. “Hey,” he captures my attention. We’re cuddled up on Julie’s bed, legs entangled. My head’s resting on his chest, one arm slung over his stomach whilst the other is squished between our bodies. He has his left arm draped around my shoulder, his fingers trailing up and down my arm. “What?” I ask, looking up at him. He’s staring at the decorative lights above us. “Do you really have to leave tomorrow?” His voice sounds so soft, I’d almost believe he’s sad. “I mean… Yeah… I don’t think I can miss my first classes of the semester,” I whisper as though it’s a secret. My fingers start drawing patterns on his chest and abdomen as my eyes focus on them instead of his face. I’m too scared I might kiss him if I keep looking at him. “Can’t you follow them online? Or just… I don’t know…” he exhales deeply, my head bobbing along. “I just don’t want you to leave yet.” I want to reply, but people bursting in the room cut me off. I scramble upright, terrified it might be Jeremy. Instead, Owen and I are tackled by Charlie, Savannah and Madison. “Group cuddle!” they scream, making me and Owen giggle. I go back to my previous position while Charlie comes to rest his head on my thigh, his arms around my waist, the rest of his body curled up between Owen and me. Savannah takes Owen’s other side, mirroring my position while Madi rests her head on his stomach. “What were you guys chatting about so intimately?” Savannah asks, followed by a yawn. “Me leaving,” I sigh joylessly. I feel Charlie’s arms tighten around me and Owen tense beneath me. Savannah’s eyes lock with mine, a pout forming on her face. “I don’t want you to leave. It’s been way too fun with you around,” she whispers. “I agree,” Charlie mutters. “Ditto,” says Madison, making me smile widely. Even more so when Owen presses a kiss to my hair. This is where I want to be for the rest of my life. Not on some stupid campus studying for a job I don’t even want to do. I need more time with these people. And I’m going to get it. It’s about time I did something for myself instead of constantly doing shit for others.

“Can I talk to you guys for a moment?” I ask Carolynn and Jeremy at the dinner table. Jeremy halts, his fork lifted mid-air, while Carolynn simply places her cutlery down, giving me her undivided attention. I inhale deeply, trying to gather all of my courage. “I was wondering if I could stay here a little longer? I haven’t talked to mom and dad yet, but I wanna do an independent study this year while interning with Teresa.” Jeremy drops his fork on his plate, a loud clatter echoing through the place. “She asked if that would be something I’m interested in, and to be quite frank, I am. Helping around this week really reminded me of how much I loved doing it.” I glance at Jeremy, noticing how tense and frustrated he’s becoming with every word I say. “Being a doctor was never my dream, Jer. It was mom’s. I think I need to do this. I need to do more things for myself instead of wanting to please others.” “I agree, sweetie,” Carolynn chimes in, offering me a supportive smile before the two of us turn back to the man of the house. He has his lips pursed, clearly mulling this over in his head. “This is about Owen, isn’t it?” he finally asks. The mention of the boy I had grown so attached to startles me at first, I didn’t expect him to be brought up in this conversation since it has nothing to do with him. “He put you up to this?” I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. I have no clue what to tell him. On one hand, I do want more time with him and Charlie and all the other cast members. I want more time with my brother. But I can’t hide that it’s mostly Owen that’s drawing me here. Spending time with him made me feel so much more connected to myself, in some way. He calms my anxiety. He makes me feel happy. Genuinely happy. “Of course he didn’t, Jer. Why would he do that?” I finally manage to bring out. “Because you’re clearly in love with him, Y/N!” The loudness of his voice and harshness of his tone makes me flinch. “But he’s not right for you! He’s distracting you from your goals, making you think this is what you want! You don’t know what love feels like but you think you do! You and Owen can’t happen, and you can’t stay here. You have to go back home!” The anger and frustration builds inside of me, and pours out in the form of tears. “You don’t have a say in this, Jer! I am twenty-one, I’m not a child anymore! I can decide what I want to do with my life and I can decide who I love!” I’m surprised by the words that flow out of my mouth. “I get that you wanna be the protective brother, Jeremy, but this is going too far. You have to let me make my own mistakes! You have to let me live my life the way I want it to!” He angrily shoves his chair back when he stands up in frustration, making Carolynn flinch. “You’re still a child, Y/N!” he shouts at me. I stand up too, leaning my hands on the tabletop. “I’m not even a year younger than you, Jer! If I’m a child, so are you!” I yell back. “At least I’m married and have a family!” he aggressively points at Carolynn, who’s rubbing her face in desperation. My eyes flicker from my sister-in-law back to my brother. “I would be in a relationship if you didn’t scare off every person I ever brought home!” “I didn’t want you getting hurt, but did I ever get a thank you for that?!” I scoff at him. He’s not playing the petty card right now. “That’s just life, Jer! People get hurt! People break your heart! But you never even let me experience that pain because you’re too obsessed with being the good brother!” My heart is pounding out of my chest. Jeremy and I have never fought like this. Sure, we used to bicker when we were teenagers, but it’s always been something stupid. This screaming match sounds like years of bundled up distress from both of us. “You have a hero complex, Jer…” I lower the volume of my own voice. Jeremy lets his head drop, knowing all too well I’m right. About everything. About the hero complex, about him meddling in my life. Everything. “I think it’s better if you go to your room for a while, Y/N,” Carolynn orders sweetly. The pent-up anger still hasn’t gone completely, it makes me want to lash out at Carolynn too. “Still not a child,” I mutter instead before grabbing my bag and leaving the apartment. Once the cold Vancouver air hits me, the realization of what just happened does too. The tears escape again, along with anger and regret. I don’t regret what I said to my brother. It’s the truth. It’s exactly what I’ve been thinking for years. What I do regret is telling him all of that in a burst of anger instead of a civilized conversation like we used to back in the day. That’s the only thing I really do regret. After a while of roaming the streets of Vancouver and getting riled up about the whole situation again, I find myself aggressively knocking at Charlie and Owen’s door. I don’t know where else to go and Owen’s the only one who could calm me down from the anger and frustration I’m still holding inside for my brother. I still can’t believe he even dared to say that to me. “Lil’ Shada!” Charlie greets excitedly, but his smile quickly disappears upon seeing my state of being. Jaw clenched, balled fists, tears running down my face. “Hey, Gorgeous, are you okay?” Owen appears in the door too after hearing Charlie utter my nickname. Upon seeing the boy, I race into the apartment, grab his face and bring him down to meet his lips. He’s startled at the force and aggression I’m putting into this kiss, but that soon dissolves when he kisses back. His hands find their way to my waist, pulling me closer and closer until I can’t do anything else but wrap my legs around his waist. He holds me tight, scared he might drop me while my fingers find their way into his hair. I pull back from his lips, but keep my forehead pressed to his. Both of us are panting from the intensity. I can tell from that sparkle in his eyes he has no clue what happened, but he wanted it to happen for a while. “I’m gonna stay,” I tell him in a whisper, which only makes the sparkle in his eyes more earnest. Without another doubt, he crashes his lips on mine again. This time, he takes it a little slower, making it more sensational without depriving it from the sizzle from before. I try to forget about the fight I’d just had with Jeremy and focus solely on Owen, but my brain counteracts. His words are on repeat in my mind like syncopated beats. This time Owen pulls back when he no doubtedly tastes the saltiness of my tears mixing in with the passion. He looks at me, the sparkle in his eyes making room for worry. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he whispers, putting me down on my feet again but keeping his arms around me and my body close. “I’m sorry, I just…” I inhale sharply, “I had a major fight with Jeremy and I just can’t shake it. I have never seen him like this…” Owen snakes his arms around my shoulders, pushing him closer into his chest. He lets me cry for a while, holding me in his arms until I’ve calmed down a little. He takes me to the couch where Charlie’s sitting too. I hadn’t even noticed him still in the room, let alone that he moved. “Talk to me, Gorgeous,” Owen whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. He’d stopped calling me “Lil’ Shada” a while ago, which makes me feel like I’m more than just Jer’s little sister. Savannah told me it was what he did to anyone he liked. Those little details are his way of showing his appreciation or love to someone. I like the small details in Owen’s love language. “I wanted to ask him and Care if I could stay at their place a little while longer, and I told him about the independent study and internship I wanted to do while here. For some reason, he thought I was doing all of this for you, that you put me up to this.” Owen inhales sharply at this. I can tell he hates being part of a fight between two people that mean a lot to him. “I told him it had nothing to do with you, but he didn’t believe me. He was shouting and screaming that I was still a child and that I couldn’t make my own decisions. I told him he had a hero complex,” I scoff at myself. This whole fight sounds even more ridiculous now. “Told him that he wants to be the good brother and that he has this idea of being a good brother that doesn’t let his little sister live… or love.” Owen’s eyes flick at mine, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I shouldn’t have shouted at him though… This was all just pent-up anger and frustration from the past twenty-one years. I should’ve just told him to back off like an adult instead of yelling at him like a child.” I glance at Charlie, who had been listening to the entire conversation. His eyes look somber, almost heartbroken. These two boys are just too good for this world. I can’t imagine a life without them anymore. “We both acted like children,” I mutter, shaking my head. There’s rap on the door, shaking all three of us awake from the somber cloud we’re all on because of me. We exchange glances, knowing exactly who’s at the door. Charlie goes first, Owen and me following suit. The anxiety welling up inside of me must be visible to him because he takes my hand, intertwining our fingers as we stand a little behind Charlie as he opens the door. “Hey, Char… Is Y/N here?” I hear my brother ask. The Canadian boy opens the door a little further, presenting Owen and I. Jeremy had been crying too, I can tell. His eyes are red and puffy, his lips swollen from biting on them in distress. “I’m so sorry, Lil’ One,” he mutters from the door. That’s enough for me to let go of Owen and launch myself into my brother’s arms. He’s stunned at first, but then wraps his arms around me too. “I know I can be a little overbearing sometimes, but you have to know it’s only because I love you,” he whispers in my ear, followed by a sniffle. “You’re an adult, just like me, and it’s time I treat you like one.” I push him back slightly but keep my hands on his shoulders. “It’s about time you figured that out.” He lets out a chuckle, dropping his head in defeat. “Hey,” he looks back up. “Thanks for looking out for me. I know you mean well.” “We’re family, Lil’ One, we’re supposed to look out for one another,” he looks past me at the two other boys, “We’re all family.” Charlie and Owen walk up to us, the latter scratching the back of his head with a pained expression on his face. “Yeah, can we not call it a family? Because otherwise, I’m in love with a family member.” He places his hands on my shoulders and presses a kiss to my hair. I meet his eyes whilst my heart beats faster. He’s in love with me. A boy I’m in love with is in love with me too. I mean, of course he is, he wouldn’t have kissed me like that. Jeremy glances from me to Owen and back, trying to decide what to think about this entire situation. I can tell it’s hard for him to let this idea of his little sister go, but he’s trying. “Be careful with her, alright? You might be my best friend, but I will not hesitate to kill you,” Jeremy’s pointing at Owen, a harsh look on his face. “Bro, I could never hurt her,” he reassures my older brother, and me at the same time. “You better keep that promise, Joyner!” That night, Jeremy calls Carolynn over too, and the five of us sit on the couch all night, talking and watching movies. I love being in Owen’s arms so much. Though we used to cuddle and be flirty with each other before, it really does give a whole different vibe knowing I could just turn my head and kiss him now. My parents allow me to stay in Vancouver and go through with my plan, much to all of our relief. Days on set are amazing. I help Teresa and the other hairstylists every morning and during all the scenes when they need touch ups, spend every night at Owen’s and Charlie’s place, and have the most fun I ever had in my life with all these people around here. “Cuddle session?” Owen whispers in my ear when we’re rounding up the scene. His sudden hands on my shoulders and lips against my ear makes me jump at first, but I calm down just as quickly. “Baby, I’m working,” I giggle, clearing all the hair products from the table, knowing he’ll convince me within five seconds. Teresa really is a very loose mentor and wouldn’t mind if I escaped now. “But you’re almost finished though? And Teresa is here to take over from you?” he tries, which makes me look up at him, and then at Teresa. The woman I call my Canadian mother winks at me, letting me know I’m good to go. I turn around in Owen’s arms, wrapping my arms around his neck. “You are so lucky Teresa’s this awesome,” I tell him and peck his lips quickly. “Thank you, T.” I grab Owen’s hand and guide him to the bedroom set we’d used so many times for cuddles, whether that be alone or with the others. The second we’re in the room, Owen tugs at my arm, making me stumble into him with a squeal. Before I can ask what he’s doing, he cups my face with his warm hands and brings me in for a passionate kiss. He pushes me backwards when I kiss back, right until I feel the bed push into the back of my knees. I crawl backwards, Owen following suit as he’s still attached to my lips. He pulls back for a moment, looking me in the eyes with those tender eyes of his. He’s holding up his weight by placing a hand next to my head, using the other to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I love you,” he whispers, causing the corners of my mouth to curl up into a smile automatically. “I love you too,” I whisper back and diminish the space between our lips by pulling him down by the back of his neck. My fingers tangle up into the blonde hair I styled this morning. Doing his hair might just be my favorite part of the day, along with this. “Group cuddle!” Our intimate moment is disturbed by a mop of our friends attacking us on the bed. With a groan, Owen drops next to me, the others piling onto us. That lunch break, all of us take a collective nap on Julie’s bed, some on stomachs, on chests, shoulders, thighs. All our limbs are tangled up together, no bystander would be able to tell which limb belongs to who. To say my new job is the best ever would be an understatement.

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maevemarethyu · 3 years

Text

Unexpected (3/?)

(Not my GIF)

You weren’t expecting it. Neither of you were.

That didn’t mean you weren’t happy with how it ended.

Bucky Barnes x Reader Fic.

You were a whole new level of anxious as you wait outside the diner for James. Matt and Foggy were already inside and you could tell how worried they were by the looks on their faces. On the bright side, they didn’t seem murderous so you would have to thank Karen later.

Then, you see him. Well, not so much him as the crowd parting for him like the red sea to avoid him; doing nothing to hide their fear and disgust. You roll your eyes at the ridiculousness of it. It would seem that no matter how much good the man did; people would still look at him like the Winter Soldier.

It really pissed you off and did nothing to help the migraine that had taken residence in the back of your head; crying all night would do that to a person. You probably looked as bad as you felt and you feel self-conscious despite your best efforts. You weren’t here to look good. You were here to get started on your divorce and get home to Laysa. If you were feeling generous, you’d try to talk Matt down from hunting Patrick.

Speak of the devil. Your phone goes off in your pocket for the tenth time this morning, another good morning/have a great day text from your loving husband. You used to think that him finding the time to send you a text was a sweet little gesture, now it made you sick to your stomach. How could he just lie to you like this?

A warm hand on your shoulder jolts you out of your thoughts and your phone slips from you hand and onto the concrete.

“S-shit sorry. I didn’t mean-“ You wave James’ apology off with a tight laugh.

“It’s not your fault.” You mumble as you pick up the phone. By some miracle, the screen had yet to shatter. “See? No harm no foul. This phones been through a lot.”

Up close, he looked good. His blue eyes seemed brighter and the stubble on his face brought out how sharp his jawline was. Seriously how could anyone take a man like James Barnes for granted?

From the corner of your eye, you see Foggy notice you and the man you were with and his face twists into an amusing mixture of shock and worry. “Are you ready?” You ask, flashing him the papers in your hand like a child showing off a good grade and he shows you his.

“As I’ll ever be.” He radiates discomfort so you lay a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I know this is gonna be hard but, I know this is what’s best for me. I’ve been with Patrick for nearly fifteen years, he’s basically all I’ve ever known. And yet, I know I’ll never be able to forgive him for this. Divorce isn’t for everyone; some couples manage to be happy after working through these situations. Today is just to see whether or not you think this is the right path to take.” Once your spiel is complete, a small smile graces his face before he nods his head towards the door.

“I needed that. Thank you… for all of this.”

“No need to thank me.” You shrug, plastering a smirk on your face. “We’re basically best friends by circumstance. If you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

You meant it because, even though the way you met was awful, you didn’t want to go your separate ways after today. You needed a friend to vent to too.

“Me too. I mean you too- I just... I’m here for you too” Once again, he’s stumbling over his words and, in the morning light, you can see a blush take over his cheeks. It drags a genuine laugh from the deepest part of your stomach; James Buchannan Barnes, the ex-Winter Soldier, was a shy giant. A teddy bear.

A teddy bear that reaches over you to hold open the door. “After you.”

Matt and Foggy are out of their chairs and flagging you down as soon as you step into the building. God, you loved these two.

You unconsciously grab James’ metal hand to drag him towards your friends and, much to his surprise, you don’t flinch or recoil. Claire always complained that his hand was too cold.

“James, these are my friends Matt Murdock and Franklin Nelson. Guys, this is James Barnes.” You introduce and purposefully ignore Foggy’s wide eyes. You were sure Matt’s eyes were wide as well but, they were hidden behind his dark glasses. You could see they had a hundred question but, ever the professionals, they stay quiet.

“It’s good to meet you” James greets awkwardly.

The waitress comes to take the drink orders and you’re thankful for the momentary distraction. This wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.

“I guess you’re wondering why I’ve gathered you all here today.” You start and Foggy snorts.

“We are actually.” Matt nods, whilst elbowing Foggy’s side. “Is everything okay?”

“Uh. No. Not really.” You stall, throat closing at the mere thought of explaining what happened to two of your dearest friends. The last thing you wanted to do was release the Devil of Hell’s kitchen in front of an Avenger. Your hand ball into fists subconsciously and you only notice when your hand is engulfed by James’.

“You’re bleeding.” He whispers, probably thinking it was quiet enough to go unheard by Matt and Foggy but, you knew better. A quick glance at you palms show he was right; your nails had managed to cut through the flesh of you palm.

You know you should pull away but, the warmth of his hand relaxes your tense shoulders and allows you to unclench your jaw.

With a deep breath, you turn to face your friends once more.

“Patrick is cheating on me with James’ wife. I want a divorce but, I want the papers in my hand before I confront him.”

Just as you expected, Matt’s face twists into something terrifying and a shiver runs down your spine at the sight but, to your surprise, its Foggy that starts.

“That fucking piece of shit! I always told you he wasn’t good enough for you.” He growls, pulling out his phone. It took a lot to get Franklin Nelson to the point of belligerent rage. “I’ve had those forms ready for the past six years.”

That had you choking on your water. You knew they didn’t particularly like Patrick but, having your divorce planned out since the day of your marriage?

“You what?! Who are you calling?” You ask and he waves off your question.

“Hey Marci? Can you print the file on my computer labeled When Y/N finally wises up? Thanks hon.”

Next to you, James chuckles and it’s enough to warm your face. This was not how you expected breakfast to go. You look towards an unusually quiet Matt for answers but, his eyes are on the man next to you.

“What about you?” He asks, directing the question at James. “The papers in your hand tell me you and Y/N have the same plan.”

If James is shocked by Matt’s intuitiveness despite his handicap, he doesn’t show it and you give his hand a thankful squeeze.

You interject. “Actually, he just came here for information on-“

“Yeah. I want a divorce too.” He nods, leaving you dumbstruck. “It’s what’s best for me.”

Hearing your words on his lips made your traitorous heart skip a beat and the way Matt shifts in his seat tell you he noticed. Damn him.

He hands Foggy the small stack of papers and the lawyer in him wastes no time; skimming through the pages with a pensive face. The waitress returns to take everyone’s orders and your face scrunches up when James asks for tomato juice with his omlette.

“Seriously? You drink that stuff?” You tease, a welcome reprieve from the seriousness and the man physically relaxes for the first time since you’ve sat down.

“Yeah actually. It’s good for you.” You open your mouth to retort when Matt cuts you off.

“Don’t act like you don’t eat tomatoes like apples. You literally ate enough cherry tomatoes in one sitting to send you to the hospital.” He reminds you of the time when you were in college and ended up in the ER because you’d managed to burn a hole into your stomach lining because of the amount of tomatoes you ingested. Who’d have thought you could throw off your stomach acid’s pH by eating four cartons of cherry tomatoes?

“You did what?” James grins. “And you don’t like tomato juice?”

“It’s the texture.” You defend while adding a shiver of disgust for good measure.

“This is an air-tight contract. Whoever wrote it up was good.” Foggy hums. “One of Stark’s lawyers I’m guessing. Is there any particular reason you aren’t using one of them?”

James didn’t actually have a reason. He supposes he could have used one of Tony’s multiple lawyers but, when you had asked him to come with you today, he had agreed without putting too much thought into it. Coming here with you just seemed like the right thing to do.

It was a good call too. Claire worked in the compound, and secrets never seemed to stay secret there for long. If word got out that he was talking to a lawyer, she’d track him down and he didn’t think he was strong enough to confront her. Not yet.

“Uh- Claire works with me. This was the easiest way to go about it without her finding out.” He explains, suddenly aware of your eyes on him and the fact that his hand was still wrapped around yours. Neither of you make a move to break the contact.

The answer seems to satisfy Foggy but, Matt doesn’t give anything away and you have half a mind to kick his shin under the table. He wasn’t here to intimidate Barnes. Thankfully, it was clear James wasn’t so easily discouraged.

“We could probably have yours done the day after tomorrow.” In reality, two days is extremely fast for things of this nature but, this meant that the two of you have to keep this to yourselves for two more days. You had to pretend to be loving spouses for the next thirty-six hours. It would be torture.

Foggy starts going through what the process was for filing a divorce and you’re so engrossed in it that you don’t notice Matt pull out his phone until you hear him

“Hey Siri; call Frank.” Matt orders and all the blood drains from your face. No.

“Matt please don’t-“ You beg, tightening your grip on James’ hand. “He can’t find out.”

“He has to know Y/N.” Foggy affirms in a much gentler voice and you can feel James’ eyes burning into the side of your head. Panic had gripped your voice and he wanted to know why.

“Can we please wait until after I confront him?” You plead. “I’m not six anymore. I can handle this.”

“Yeah Murdock?” A gruff voice speaks from the device and your breath catches.

You hold Matt’s blank gaze firmly, neither of you yielding until-

“Sorry; meant to call Hank. You know how Siri never gets it right.” He lies and you exhale in relief.

“Whatever.” The phone murmurs before disconnecting just in time for the waitress to set down your table’s food.

“If you don’t tell Frank, I will.” Matt warns once the waitress is out of earshot and, with a roll of your eyes, you unlink your hand from James’ to pull your plate of Belgian waffles towards you.

Your friends begin discussing how to handle both yours and James’ divorces when the latter leans in towards you.

“I’m guessing Frank is that scary friend you warned us about?” He asks, once again keeping his voice low, not realizing just how futile it was.

The answer to his question was yes and no. Frank was scary but, he wasn’t the only one. Unbeknownst to the Avenger, one of your scariest friends was sat across from him, white cane folded on his lap, discussing the legality of your situation.

Matt Murdock played the perfect civilian but, you were one of the few people who knew who he really was.

“That’s putting it lightly.” You mutter, loading your plate with enough syrup to have James’ teeth rotting by just looking at it.

“You really like your sugar, huh?” He chuckles as he watches each pocket of your waffle fill up with the golden brown delicacy and you hum.

“Need it to keep me awake. Can’t stand the taste of coffee and energy drinks just keep me exhausted with an accelerated heartbeat.” Once you’re satisfied, you hand Foggy the syrup out of habit without looking up from your plate and he takes it with a quiet thank you.

“So, how’s Laysa?” He asks and a bright smile crawls onto your face despite your full cheeks.

“She’s doing a lot better.” You say after swallowing. “It was touch and go for a while but, she’s on the way to being a normal, healthy, baby.”

“Good! Because Marci and Karen want to fawn her with gifts and attention. Even Elle admitted to wanting to see her.” Matt grins, finally dropping his glare and conversing like a normal person.

“Elle?!” You snort in disbelief, turning to James to explain why you were shocked, words catching in your throat when you catch him staring at you. There was a look on his face you couldn’t quite describe; the best you could come up with was awed. You felt heat creep up your neck at the sight of it and you quickly focus your attention back to your food.

It was a ridiculous thought. Why the hell would James Buchannan Barnes be in awe of you? You were just you.

“I’ve gotta ask.” Foggy flashes a sardonic smirk. “How are you gonna do it? I’m partial to you setting all of his shit on fire and tossing it off the GW.”

You knew he meant well but, all his words did was make your skin crawl with the realization that you were going to have to confront Patrick and it wasn’t going to be pretty. There would probably be yelling and crying. God, you hated crying.

“I’m… not sure.” You say quietly. “I’ve never had to do anything like this before. I almost want to leave his stuff at the station and text him but, I know that’s cowardly.”

“And you are anything but a coward.” Matt reminds tenderly. You sometimes forgot how well your friends knew you but, you were always grateful they did. He was right. You were not a coward.

That didn’t make this any less terrifying.

“Steve had to talk me out of leaving a letter on Claire’s desk and moving back to Romania.” James admits and the ridiculousness of it lightens the weight on your heart. You weren’t sure if it was true or if he said it to make you feel better but, you decide it doesn’t matter.

“Why don’t you guys do it together? Two birds one stone and all that.” Foggy suggests through a mouth full of hash brown. You and James share a look.

It wasn’t a bad idea. You two could be a united front against your soon to be exes and, having him there wouldn’t allow you to back out, or worse, take Patrick back. Your husband always had a way with words and you always fell for it.

“Are you-?” James begins.

“Yeah… you?” You interject.

“Yeah. I mean yes- I-“

“Okay its settled, you’ll do it together.” Matt finalizes with a slight frown. It was obvious he wasn’t fully behind it but, knew better than you fight you on it. You were stubborn. “I want a call as soon as it’s over.”

Foggy chokes on his food when he garbles Live Stream It and you can’t stop the roll of your eyes. It’s been like this since you met them while studying at Columbia. You could practically picture Foggy’s long hair and hear Matt’s shy voice. A voice you hadn’t heard since you graduated.

Even when you continued your education at a more specialized school, you hadn’t grown apart and it irked Patrick to no end. You were glad that who you hung out with was the one thing you never compromised with him.

“So…” You turn to James. “How are we going to do this?”

#bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky x y/n

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imagesofthegreatgull · 4 years

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Hybrid Rainbow

Joy has always been a rare and precious commodity. I would argue, though, that in the developed world (Wherever, exactly, that is), it has become somewhat less rare in recent times, as standards of living and education continue to go up. That’s an absurdly privileged thing to say, I realize, but I’m trying to start this thing as evenhandedly as I can. I understand about suffering and poverty; I’m reading A Tree Grows In Brooklyn right now, even! Okay, saying we’re closer now than ever to utopia is going to smack of ignorance no matter how you phrase it, but it also strikes me as undeniably true, in the grand scheme of things. I think most people--aside from the fascists--would refuse a one-way trip in a time machine to any previous era, or at the very least, would recognize that it wouldn’t improve much of anything for them. As unruly as our age is, it’s still probably the best one we’ve gotten thus far, and as the boot-heel of oppression starts to ever so slowly ease up its pressure on the necks of the long-suffering masses, the question has begun to enter into the collective consciousness: what is to be done with joy when it begins to fall, unbidden, into your life with something like abundance? What is to be done if moments of joy no longer must be pried with great effort and sacrifice from the rockface of life, but lie strewn liberally throughout our days, needing only the will and lack of embarrassment to seize them?

Thus far, the latter-day generations have faced up to this problem with decidedly mixed success. The idea that expecting anything other than the very worst leaves one vulnerable to the universe’s cruel whims has been stamped upon the human brain for centuries, and has left many sadly unable to recognize their own privilege (Which, by the way, is a big part of why a whole lotta white folks refuse to admit they have it better than anyone else and continue to dig their heels in against progress because to them it looks like cutting in line). It is still widely accepted that constantly finding joy and peace and purpose in one’s own life is the purview of children and children alone, that it is a naivete to be grown out of. We have the impulse always within us to be hard, to be warlike, to show the world that we’re not weak and frivolous but monsters to be feared, without emotions to be appealed to or ideals to be fallen short of.

Remedying this problem has turned out to be one of the primary functions of counterculture. If it is often unhelpful to simply look at the entire value system of one’s parents and say “Fuck that”, as it tends to foster a rather negative self-definition, still, if part of that value system is a deeply entrenched distrust of happiness, “Fuck that” may be exactly the response called for. The beauty of “Fuck that” is that it leaps past the slow loss of faith in something and arrives immediately at a flat rejection of it, and since much of the history of civilization has been bound up with blind faith in arbitrary and harmful things, the ability and the courage to flatly reject something, to give it no credit for however widely accepted it is but to dismiss it as bullshit from the ground up, is a step forward in human consciousness tantamount to the reinvention of the wheel.

The great irony of the end of the sixties is that all the hippies were miserable for no reason: they won. Rock n’ roll did change the world, it just didn’t immediately transform it on every level into an unrecognizable nirvana. For all the apparent emptiness of its utopian dreams, the basic thrust of the thing worked out just fine: that particular cat will never be put back into its bag, and those ideas are now out in the ether forever, always waiting for someone to find them and be inspired to change their own life and the lives of those around them for the better. The same goes for the punk rock revolution a few years later: they may not have brought the bastards down, but they did successfully bring personal liberation to a lot of people, and poured exactly as much gas on the fires of populism as they intended to. Culture, and in particular art and in particular music, cannot, unassisted, change the world, but it can change your world, and has been changing small worlds all over the frigging place at least since those mop-topped Brits set foot on American shores and probably since Johnny B. Goode learned to play guitar just like a-ringin’ a bell.

The thread can get lost, however. Culture is always a reflection of the people, and the people still spend a lot of their time bored, frustrated, and terrified of letting on that they have feelings about stuff. Young people especially, formerly the eternal pirate crew waving high the flags of “Liberty” and “Up Yours”, in recent times have often capitulated and resigned themselves to no more than a few stray moments of fun pilfered from the fortresses of the almighty Money Man-Kings, usually in the form of drugs, sex, and reckless self-endangerment. The cost of the hippies and the punks giving up their battles is that the counterculture lost its intellectual leadership, at least until the resurgence in political literacy in the 2010s. In the wasteland following the 70s, there were no John Lennons or Joe Strummers to look to for guidance; even the people who were elected to speak for their generation seemed adamant that there was fuck-all they could really say. Yeah, it’s nice to know that someone else feels stupid and contagious, but that’s not really a direction, is it? The generation-defining message Kurt Cobain and his peers sent out was “We’re all way too fucked up to do anything about anything”, and that introspective moodiness pervaded American underground rock music from the invention of hardcore at least all the way up to the moment Craig Finn watched The Last Waltz with Tad Kubler and said “Why aren’t there bands like this anymore?” and set out with rest of the Steadies in tow to remind everyone that music can save your immortal soul and that hey, that Springsteen guy was really onto something, headband and all, and together they all successfully ushered in the New Uncool and now we’ve got Patrick Stickles wailing that “If the weather’s as bad as the weatherman says, we’re in for a real mean storm!” and Brian Fallon admitting “I always kinda sorta wished I looked like Elvis” and everything’s great, except it’s not, everything’s fucked, but rock n’ roll is here to stay, come inside now it’s okay, and I’ll shake you, ooo-ooo-ooo.

The point of all this is my belief that even with the responsibility rock music has to provide cathartic outlets for dissatisfaction, is has an equal or greater responsibility to provide heroes. I think it’s time we all got over pretending that we’re better than the need for heroes, because we all insist on having them anyway, imperfect roses by any other name, and we’d do a hell of a lot better selecting them if we just admitted what we were after. We don’t just want particularly talented comrades, we want King Arthur, Robin Hood, Superman, Malcolm Reynolds. Damn it all, they don’t need to be perfect, they don’t even need to be all that great really, and yeah, Arthur dies, and Robin never gets Prince John, and Superman can’t save everyone, and the war’s over, we’re all just folk now, and John Lennon beat women and Van Morrison is a grumpy old fart and John Lydon’s a disgrace, but it’s the faith that counts. The faith that there’s something greater than ourselves that some people are more keyed into than others, and that whatever they can relay from that other side is what’ll see us through. All the best prophets are madmen, and madmen aren’t always romantic fools; sometimes they hurt people, or fail at crucial moments due to a compulsion they can’t control. Let he who is without sin etcetera, right? Why not cast aside realism and sincerely believe in something or someone, huh?

I believe in the Pillows. I don’t know hardly anything about them; my expertise of Japanese culture and history extends to the anime I’ve seen and that “History of Japan” YouTube video that made the rounds a while back. I can’t locate them within the Japanese music scene; all their western influences seem obvious to me, and the rest I know nothing about. They’re the only rock band from their country I’ve listened to any great amount of, I don’t speak the language they mostly sing in, I don’t even know their career very well. The particulars of any experiences they might have had that motivated them to make the art they make are not ones I could possibly share in, so, saying that I “Relate” to their work sounds a little preposterous. They ought to be a novelty to me, a band that clearly likes a lot of the same bands I do despite hailing from a foreign shore, marrying that shared music taste with a cultural identity I have nothing to do with, a small, nice upswing of globalism pleasing to my sense of universalism but not having any kind of quantifiable impact on me.

Yet I, like a good many other westerners, believe in the Pillows. I’m a little buster, and my eyes just watered as I wrote that. In fact, it’s likely because of the barriers of language and culture that exist between us that my belief in the Pillows is so strong. Pete Townshend, someone else I believe in, once opened a show by saying “You are very far away...but we will fucking reach you”, and though the Pillows are both geographically (At the moment) and culturally miles away from me, Lord strike me down if they don’t fucking reach me. They reach me in a way many of their American college rock peers, many of their biggest influences in fact, never have. Dinosaur Jr, Bob Mould, Sonic Youth, the Pixies, Nirvana--all these artists speak directly to the American adolescent experience, but though they have all moved me to one degree or another, none of them have produced a body of work I can so readily see myself in as that of the Pillows. Maybe it is the novelty of it, maybe I’m fooling myself and it is just my sense of universalism carrying me away, but there’s something I hear in the Pillows that I don’t hear in those bands, and though the obvious candidate for that thing would be the foreign tongue the majority of the lyrics are written in, when it comes down to it, I think that thing is joy.

Joy, to me, is the possibility glimpsed by rock n’ roll. Not hedonistic pleasure, not a sadistic glee over the outrage of authority figures, but real, true, open-hearted, “Freude, schöner Götterfunken/Tochter aus Elysium”--type joy. Buddy Holly had joy. The Beatles, The Who, the pre-fall Rod Stewart, they had joy. Springsteen’s got joy to spare. Those people have such profound love for their art and their audience that just the continual recognition of the fact that they have a guitar in their hands and they’re being allowed to play it is enough to make them ecstatic, and whenever they want to actually express something serious they have to get themselves under control to do it. Yet, whether it’s the unfashionability of those utopian dreams, or the simple fact that rock music has become accepted by mainstream culture and is now a commonplace, unremarkable thing, but half the people who have picked up an electric guitar for the past few decades don’t seem all that excited about it. From Kim Gordon snarling about how people go down to the store to buy some more and more and more and more, to Thom Yorke moaning about how he’s let down and hanging around, crushed like a bug in the ground, even up to Courtney Barnett asking how’s that for first impressions, this place seems depressing, it’s not really a given anymore, if it ever was, that people who make rock music are very joyful in what they do.

Of course, I’m not demanding that our artists be empty-headed fluff-factories; far from it. The Pillows write sad songs and angry songs same as everybody else. But the important thing is this: every song the Pillows play is played with an exuberance and abandon that is immediately striking, regardless of the emotional content of each song. Channelling that kind of revelry into rock music is both to my mind the initial purpose of the genre in the first place and something which has become so rare as to be remarkable. A veneer of detached cool, a howling ferocity, a whimpering woundedness--these have become the hallmarks of American rock music, and they are nowhere to be found in the Pillows.

At the same time, the Pillows are the very antithesis of artlessness. Joy of the caliber they deal in is more commonly found in folky rave-ups, a lack of musicianship giving way to trancelike festivity. But the Pillows are skilled song craftsmen like few others; their sound has evolved throughout the years, but they tend to settle in the neighborhood of power-pop, abounding in glorious hooks and surprising structures. A hundred unnecessary, perfect touches seem to exist in every song; a pause, a solo, a bassline, all deftly elevating the song into a perfect expression of something sublime, something that always--always--takes ahold of the musicians themselves and imbues their performances with power and purpose the likes of which most little busters can only dream of feeling. It should be testament enough to their brilliance that upon first listen to a song I never know what most of the lyrics mean, but whenever I look up a translation, they always turn out to be exactly what I felt they must be; their songs are so musically communicative that they all but lack the need for lyrics.

This dual nature is why I believe in the Pillows: by so utterly failing to neglect both the highest possibilities of musical composition as an unparalleled tool for capturing emotional nuance and the unrestrained id-like rush that is the province of rock n’ roll, they successfully attain the lofty realm that is--or ought to be--the goal of music in the first place. Never once is there a hint of straying into the realm of primitivism nor into overthought seriousness, and instead they locate themselves somehow exactly center on the scale between punk and prog, lacking the weaknesses and gaining the strengths of both. They make rock whole again by finally disproving the tenet initially laid out by their heroes, your heroes, and mine, The Beatles: the notion that growing up means having less fun. The viscerally exciting early work of The Beatles lacks any of the depth and vision displayed by their later records, but those records are so carefully and expertly crafted that they tend to lose spontaneity, and constantly second-guess themselves where the juvenilia they followed forged unselfconsciously ahead. That legendary career path has laid out a false dichotomy that every proceeding generation of kids with guitars has chosen between, save for the few who could see past it, the ones who heard the wildness in “Revolution” and the wisdom in “Twist and Shout” and realized that they were of a piece, were one and the same, not to be chosen between but embraced fully. Pete Townshend. Bruce Springsteen. Joe Strummer. David Byrne. Paul Westerberg. The Pillows. The real heroes are not those who champion one side or another but fight all their lives for peace between them, knowing that we have not yet begun to imagine what could be accomplished if that were made possible.

Just as they bypass the divide between what Patrick Stickles termed the Apollonian and Dionysian tendencies of rock (I prefer to think of the usual battle as being between the Dionysians and the Athenians, with the true devotees of Apollo being most of those heroes I keep referring to, except Dylan, who might be a Hermesian), so too do the Pillows bypass the Pacific frigging ocean. And the Atlantic, to boot. Their music quotes the Pixies and The Beatles directly, and obviously owes much to Nirvana and all their college rock predecessors who spent the entire 80s desperately stacking themselves until the doomed power trio could finally vault over the wall. Their first record is practically a tribute to XTC. They do speak a lot of English, too. I’m informed that much of western culture is seen as the epitome of coolness in Japan, which might explain their obsession with Baseball, and apparently sprinkling a bit of the Saxon tongue into the mix is far from uncommon in the music scene(s). Regardless, there is something ineffably touching to a distant fan in a foreign land about hearing Sawao Yamanaka spit “No surrender!” or exclaim “Just runner’s high!” It looks from here like a show of mutual effort to understand me as much as I’m trying to understand them. They’re generous enough to have already walked to the middle where they’re asking me to meet them, a middle where it doesn’t matter that I don’t have a suffix attached to my name or that they don’t wear shoes in houses. The invisible continent that all forward-thinking and sensitive people come to long for is where the Pillows are broadcasting from, because they’ve realized that its golden shores and spiraling cities are attainable. They’re attainable with joy, with the fundamentally rebellious act of refusing to let the fascists bring down even your globdamn day, because who the hell gave them that power other than us? I know enough about Japan and America to know that either one accusing the other of being imperialist and socially conservative to a fault is a fucking joke, and to know that we’ve done a lot more wrong to them than they’ll ever do to us and the presence of the Pillows amounts to a “We forgive you”, not an “I’m sorry”. Having watched a decent amount of anime, which is basically the result of Japan’s mind being blown by western media and then proceeding to show their love by often almost inadvertently surpassing their inspirations, I know that the only way to save our respective national souls and everybody else’s too is to put our knuckles down, have Jesus and Buddha shake hands like Kerouac tried to explain that they would anyway, and embrace each other’s dreams and passions and adopt them into our own.

It takes better people to inhabit that better world, and in case that sounds like fascist talk, I mean we’ve got to do better, not be better. It’s no physical imperfection that holds us back, nor a mental imperfection exactly, as we all have our own neuroses and if we expunge those then we’ll be kissing art and lot of other vital stuff goodbye. No, it’s our discomfort with ourselves, our world, our neighbors, our aliens, that keep us from seeing that crazy sunshine. If we can’t even acknowledge the greatness around us, that surplus of joy I mentioned a while back that we just seem to have no idea what to do with, then we have no hope of ever achieving further greatness, of ever quelling man’s inhumanity to man down to an inevitable fringe rather than the basic order of the world.

There was always more to do

Than just eat and work and screw

But now that there’s time at last to do those things, we’re still afraid to, afraid that we’ll come up empty, that the search for fulfillment leads only to disappointment, better to hang back and play it safe, better not to risk becoming one of those people I shake my head at and pity and will secretly envy until I die. It’s a new world, and we must learn to be new people. I believe in the Pillows because I believe they make excellent models for that new kind of person. The way they behave in the studio and on the stage is the way people behave when they’re truly free, and we’ve all been set free already or will be soon, so if we’re going to try and learn what the fuck is next from anyone, I think we might as well learn from the Pillows. At least, that’s one of the places we could get that insight. There’s a lot of art and a lot of philosophy and political theory to sift through to in order to put together a workable 21st century identity, and the Pillows are hardly the only people to have begun making the leap. But because of a silly thing like the size of the earth, the infinitesimal size of the earth even compared to the distance between us and the next rock we’re gonna try and get to, not everybody is getting their particular brand of free thought and action, and I happen to think that’s regrettable, and it’s my will as a free individual to rectify it as much as I can.

Writing about music really is worthless, isn’t it? I haven’t said jackshit about what the Pillows actually do other than to vaguely qualify their genre and temperament, and the only more useless thing I could do than not describing their songs would be to describe their songs. If you don’t hear the bracing weightlessness in “Blues Drive Monster”, or the aching nostalgia in “Patricia”, or the soul-bearing cry in “Hybrid Rainbow” then nothing I could write about those would be more effective than “Little Busters is a really good album.” The better primer might be Happy Bivouac, from a few years later; it has the melancholic rush of “Last Dinosaur”, the ascended teenybopper “Whoa, whoa, yeah” chorus in “Backseat Dog”, and the intro that should make it obvious immediately that you’re listening to one of the best songs ever recorded which opens “Funny Bunny”. Those two, Runners High, and Please, Mr. Lostman are the classic era, selections from the former three immortalized in their biggest claim to western fame, the FLCL soundtrack, a brilliant use of their music that could warrant an equally long piece. Before and after those four are periods of experimentation and discovery equally worth your time, not all of which I’m familiar with yet. See, now I’m just an incomplete Wikipedia article; it’d be equally worthless to expound upon the individual bandmates, on the pure yawp of Yamanaka’s vocals, on the passionate drumming of Yoshiaki Manabe and the supernaturally faultless lead guitar of Shinichiro Sato, or the contribution of founding bassist Kenji Ueda, which was so valued by the others that when he left he was never officially replaced (They’re so sweet). I’m not here to write an advertisement or a press-release, I don’t really even know why I’m here writing this, but I know that I believe in the Pillows, that they’re important, and that people should write about them. I’m being the change I want to see in the world, get it? That’s all we can be asked to do.

It occurs to me that people believed in Harvey Dent too, and that didn’t turn out so well. Hell, let’s leave the comic book pages behind, people believe in Donald Trump, they think he’s a hero, and that’s all going down in flames as I write this. Having heroes can be dangerous, but I still believe it’s not as dangerous as not having heroes. “Lesser of two evils” sounds an awful lot like one of those false dichotomies between fun and intelligence or between misery and foolishness I mentioned earlier, so, let’s call it a qualified good. I’m not much of a responsible world-citizen if my only effort towards bringing the planet together is spinning some sweet Japanese alt-rock tunes and bragging about how open-minded I am, but if I do ever end up doing anyone any good, then I’d consider it paying forward the good done to me by the Pillows, among others. They helped me form my identity as an artist (Read: functional human being) and they made my adolescence a lot easier. Actually, that’s a lie: my adolescence was (And continues to be) pretty easy already, and the Pillows reassured me that I wasn’t avoiding reality by feeling that. While American bands sang about the downsides of being a mallrat or a non-mallrat, the Pillows offered a vision of teenagedome much like my own, one that was grandly romantic, in which suffering wasn’t a cosmic stupidity but a trial with pathos and merit, and joy was not an occasional indulgence but a constant presence, whether it was lived in or lost and needing recovery.

That’s the old idea of youth, the youth of John Keats, the youth that makes the old miss it, makes it required that we explain to them that it’s still there, it never left, it’s a dream, a momentary affirmation, an attitude, a muttered curse word. So many of my peers, now no longer engaged in a constant race to stay out of the grave as their ancestors were, seemed intent on beating each other into their tombs, as if reaching walking death before their parents was the only way to outgrow them. There’s so much life just lying around and it’s just plain wasteful to let it lie in the sun and rust in the rain. There’s space enough to stretch, to not keep who you are awkwardly curled up inside yourself, to breathe the air and taste the wine and dig the brains of your fellow travelers in this loosely-defined circus. I found that space in the Pillows, having often suspected it was there, and while everyone is going to find that space in their own way--or not, still, tragically not--I have to think that experience was due in part to some innate and unique quality of the music itself, not just a complimentary sensibility contained within myself. The Pillows are free, and that makes them freeing, it’s easy as that. Their liberation is plain as day; it rings in every chord, every snare-hit, every harmony; it’s up to us ascertain what we can do in our own limited capacity to hoist ourselves up to their level and give some other folks a boost along the way and a hand to grab afterwards. It’s the gift that art gives us, and the Pillows just give it more freely than most is all, which is why I think the suggestion to listen to them is more than just a solid recommendation. Like the insistence on listening to The Beatles, or The Clash, or any of the others, it’s a plea to save your soul, to learn the language of tomorrow and drink the lifeblood of peace and love and piss and vinegar, or else you’ll be lost, lost, lost.

Can you feel? Can you feel that hybrid rainbow?

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lucijade · 4 years

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2019.

Never have I ever lived a year that I felt as though I needed to write about, but I guess there's a first for everything- right? On January first of 2019 I wouldn't have believed you if you told me I'd be where I am now. I was home visiting from college wishing I could tell my parents that I was too anxious to even go to my classes. But I didn’t want to let them down. They were so proud of me for going to college and ‘setting an example for my younger siblings’. So, I didn't. I continued to live that lie and I had accepted my fate. I was sleeping in my younger sisters bed because my room was non existent anymore (my siblings were betting on my old room before I even was accepted into college.) I desperately wanted someone to confide in seeing as I had no friends. And then I met Patrick. From that first swipe I knew something big was coming.

It was like an earthquake that happens before a volcano erupts, I didn't know if that was going to be the whole show or if I should stick around. And let me tell you, am I glad I stuck around. Our first date we broke into a park -the most exhilarating thing I've ever done. Patrick wanted me to see his favorite place but being the workaholic he was, he couldn't catch the park while it was open. Climbing over that fence, I had never felt more right doing something wrong. Normally my anxious self would have laughed at the idea of it but I wanted to look cool for this boy I just met who was so much cooler than me. We sat looking at the ducks as they swam around in the pond. Everytime I heard a noise I’d look all around because I was so sure cops were going to come and take us to jail because we were in a park after close, but I loved it.

The day after our first date, I had to go back to college. Patrick and I texted the entire ride, planning when we would see each other again. First week back to classes, I continued my streak of being too anxious to go to classes. This time instead of hating myself for my anxiety, I had someone to talk to. I spent all my days wishing I was with Patrick and not alone. Then, there was a Greyhound leaving my college town in an hour. I booked it.

I was terrified. Never had I ever taken a public transportation that wasn't a school bus. This feeling of adrenaline manifested in my veins as I downloaded both the Greyhound and Uber apps. I punched my cards’ information into the apps as I haphazardly packed my bag that was bursting at the seams. Greyhound ticket? Bought. Uber? Ordered. I had that same feeling of adrenaline that I had when we were breaking into the park. My moms voice echoed in my head telling me to not meet strangers online. At this moment I decided I’m not telling her, in fact I wasn't going to tell anyone. I know, I could have ended up dead and no one would have known, but I lived to see another day!

I got the notification that the Uber had arrived and I embarked on my journey. The Uber driver and I talked about how this was an unexpected trip and I explained to him how I never do things without a plan. He said to me “yanno, some of the best trips I’ve ever been on were unexpected.” The Greyhound station was scary, I was alone with a six hour ‘layover’. No one knew where I was going besides me and Patrick, I felt like I was on a secret mission. The entire Greyhound trip was not as bad as I made it up to be in my head, it was even (dare I say) pleasant. When I arrived to the town Patrick lived in, we went back to his apartment where he had my favorite things: Hot Cheetos, a green Monster energy drink, and a huge stuffed sloth. He cooked me dinner and we stayed awake all night talking. We did nothing but hang out that entire weekend. It was perfect.

That weekend was only the first of many weekends to come, I would not go to classes, talk to Patrick, then visit him on the weekends and repeat. After about a month of doing this, I decided I was going to drop out of college. I never really wanted to do college in the first place, I was always too scared to say what I wanted. I was scared of hurting other people's feelings, but I decided the debt wasn’t worth sparing someone else's feelings. A couple trips ago, Patrick had mentioned me moving in with him and I decided to take him up on his offer. I booked a one-way Greyhound and I threw my personal belongings in a bag. I decided I was going to surprise patrick. (great idea, I know) I got on the Greyhound knowing damn well I wasn't going to be back anytime soon. The whole time I texted patrick as if I were still in my dorm being miserable. Once I was off of the Greyhound, I ordered an Uber to Patrick's apartment. At this point he was catching on to my suspicious activity. I knock on his door at 9 o’clock at night. And then I just never left.

I was able to experience Patricks town through his lenses. He lived about a 30 minute drive away from where I grew up, so I had been here but I didn't know the ins and outs of the town. He showed me all these amazing food places, including this shawarma place right across the street that we admittedly ate too much of.

Eventually I had to get my horde of things from my dorm in my college town. The drive there is about four hours away from where Patrick lived. Seeing as we had no car, we were going to take a bus to my ex-college town and then U-Haul back down. We almost missed the bus there, we had to run a mile to catch the bus that was leaving in 5 minutes. We barely made the bus, and I was wheezing for a solid hour recuperating from the run. Once we arrived to my ex-college town we got Sonic, which was my guilty pleasure. After a couple corndogs and fries it was off to my old place of living. We quickly packaged all my things and took off. Before the long trek home, we stopped for gas. This is where I scraped and dented the entire side of the Uhaul, sending Patrick and I into a 40,000 dollar panic attack. Luckily, when we returned the U Haul, there were markings of previous damage in that very spot so we didn't end up with that charge. But, I was officially moved into Patricks apartment. It was now our home.

I've always been a self conscious gal when it came to my weight. I was always the heaviest set of all my friends but I always chalked it up to: my whole family was heavy set. Nevermind the bag of hot cheetos and my venti caramel frappuccino with extra caramel on the daily. Or if I was being healthy, a green Monster energy drink. (Yes the green part is important) In March of this year I decided I wasn't going to keep pitying myself, I was going to make a change. The way I looked and how awful I felt wasn’t going to change while I sat on my ass. I cut out all my sugary and snacky addictions right then and there. I started eating healthy and going to the gym. I was extremely serious and even more determined to prove myself wrong. I now occasionally allow myself some hot cheetos and even a coffee when we’re out sometimes. But I made the health decision that I never thought I’d be able to.

When summer time rolled around, I told my mom (keep in mind she thought I was in my college town this whole time) that I was going to move in with Patrick instead of moving home for the summer. She was weary but I didn’t really give her an option.I had to pretend like I was moving down here all over again, but I did it. I couldn't believe my lie has lasted and she still to this day doesn’t know that I was in this city for the first half of 2019. When August rolled around, my family was asking what my plans for the school were, seeing as I had no intention of going back to college. I told them that honestly I had no plans and that I was perfectly content with that. I have interests in many things including photography, videography, and traveling and I was determined to find something I could do in regard to one of those. Haven't gotten there yet but making progress.

This year has been the year of me making my own decisions. My whole life I’ve had long bleach blonde hair. Some time in 2017 I decided that I wanted short hair and bangs, so I told my mom this. As none of you know seeing as this is my first blog post, my mom is a hairdresser. A hairdresser who specialises in long blonde hair. While I was always thankful for getting my hair done for free (a treat some girls would die for) it wasn't fun not having the freedom with my hair that I desired. So, I bought some black box dye and booked a hairdresser appointment. Needless to say, I ended that day with a black bob with bangs. And I felt so cute and independent, not like the carbon copy my mom so wanted me to be.

Moving on with the timeline, Patricks lease was up. We didn't know if we wanted to move to Washington State or stay in this metropolitan city. We decided to stay in this town for now (leaving is a long term goal, just isn't in the cards right now). We moved to this two bedroom apartment which we desperately needed. We needed the space to go through our things and figured out what we had duplicates of and whatnot. Once that got all settled, I set my goals on minimalism, but that's a topic for another time.

I cut people out of my life that I had needed to for too long for my mental health. It was hard, but after doing it I no longer feel as though I carry the burden that was them.

I've grown into the kind of person I’ve always wanted to be this year, me 365 days ago wouldn't have believed you if you told me I was going to be where I am only a short year later. If I’ve learned one this year it is that if you want something, you need to do it. You can't wait for the opportunity to fall into your lap. You are the creator of your own future, so make it and make it sick.

-jay.

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douchebagbrainwaves · 3 years

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HACKERS AND AMBITION

The reason young founders go through the motions of starting a startup generally. A really good hacker can squeeze more out of better tools. In pre-industrial times started working at about 14 at the latest; kids on farms, where most people lived, began far earlier. It seems reasonable to suppose the newest one will too. Some clever person with a spell checker reduced one section to Zen-like incomprehensibility: Also, common spelling errors will tend to get fixed. Like prison wardens, the teachers mostly left us to ourselves. It may also be because if you start measuring something you start optimizing it, and I predict that will be one of those things founders worry about that's not a real problem. When you talk about code-size ratios, you're implicitly assuming that you can. Bolder investors will now get rewarded with lower prices. They know, in the OO world you hear a good deal of overlap between them.

That brings us to our fourth counterintuitive point: that the way to become an expert on search. For decades there were just those two types of investors, and those are impossible to predict. Why does he think this? Imagine we were living on a moon base. It would have taken a deliberate lie to say otherwise. Adults know this. In Smalltalk the code is a sign, to me at least, there is precious little between schoolwork and the work they'll do as adults. It issued in 2003. In a project of that size, powerful languages probably start to outweigh the convenience of pre-existing libraries.

Because super-angels seem to care at all about it. At the time I never tried to separate my wants and weigh them against one another. A rounds take so long, but at the end of the spectrum, where you need to be able to get into the best deals at all. What was special about Brian Chesky and Joe Gebbia was not that they were experts in technology. Life in this twisted world is stressful for the kids. The pointy-haired boss is, right? After thinking about it for a while and observing certain other signs, I have a theory that explains why the super-angels and VCs. The veteran may in turn feel a sense of noblesse oblige. So part of learning to ski is learning to suppress that impulse. But we know that's the wrong metric. I might seem to have a disproportionately low probability of the former will seem to have some sort of internal compass that helps me out.

Maybe one day a heavily armed force of adults will show up in helicopters to rescue you, but they probably won't be coming this month. It might seem that the answer is: not much. Now kids who go to college don't start working full-time till 21 or 22. I'm not sure what happened to the application after I left. Being smart doesn't make you an outcast in elementary school, but only at the price of being of average intelligence humor me here, I wouldn't have taken it. Every day new shit happens in the Google empire that only the CEO can deal with, and he, as CEO, has to deal with than VCs. We were all just pretending.

Thanks to Paul Buchheit, Jessica Livingston, Trevor Blackwell, Peter Eng, Sarah Harlin, Patrick Collison, and Jeremy Hylton for their feedback on these thoughts.

#automatically generated text #Markov chains #Paul Graham #Python #Patrick Mooney #Hylton #libraries #Jeremy #Livingston #expert

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teenageread · 6 years

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Review: A Flicker in the Charity

Synopsis:

For as long as Evie can remember, she and Emma have been best friends. They’ve gone through everything together—only Evie understood what it was like for Emma to lose her older brother in a car accident. And though they couldn’t be more different—Emma is the life of the party while Evie is shy—the dynamic has always worked for them.

But then Evie makes a careless mistake that ends up having serious consequences for Emma. They’ve had their squabbles before, but this is different. When Evie tries to apologize, Emma ignores her texts, gets a new best friend, and completely freezes her out. Evie didn’t mean to betray Emma in the way that she did, and she’s desperate to get back in Emma’s good graces. Who is Evie without Emma?

Then Evie meets Theo, a kindred spirit unlike any boy she’s ever encountered. With him, she can at least pretend like her life is normal. But just as she’s about to let go and fully fall into whatever is happening with him, Emma resurfaces, miraculously letting Evie back in—though it’s not without consequence. Erratic behavior, drunken incidents, and panicked late-night calls are only some of the hoops Emma makes Evie jump through. All Evie has wanted is to get her best friend back—but Emma seems hell-bent on self-destruction. Evie is used to swooping in to pull Emma out of her troubles, but how do you help someone who doesn’t want to be saved?

Plot:

Emma has always looked out for Evie. At their private competitive high school, Bly, Evie was going to get bullied because she was a scholarship kid. Yet, with Em at her side since day one, Evie has managed to get to junior year with no incidents. Em has given her everything Evie could want, her old iPhone when Em got a new one, a dress when they went to a dance together, even advise as Evie, instead of kissing the boy she liked back, ducked and did an awkward laugh. Evie for Emma, allowed her to rant about her family, support her after her older brother, Patrick, drove drunk and died. Evie was even the messenger between Em and her boyfriend, as Evie dumped him for Em, so that Em can spend more time with her college boy, Ryan. It was with Ryan that night that Em left Evie outside a restaurant for hours. When a text came from Em’s father asking where she is, Evie did not lie: she did not know. This is what ended her friendship with Em. Because her parents were waiting up for when Em came home, late, drunk, and high, and basically wanted to know where their daughter was. With a strict leash put on Em, she blames Evie for not covering her, and thus getting her caught. With her friendship with Em out the window, school became the worst place for Evie, as she had to listen to Em talk about her, but not to her. On the class field trip, she met Theo, the tour guy for her group, and instantly a spark hit. Wanting to reach Theo again, but with no phone he just ‘shows up’ in her life, and became the source of happiness in Evie’s Em-less life. Em was not going to stay gone for long, letting Evie back in her life, she goes on a whirlwind of emotion, leaving Evie to go pick up the pieces. When Theo turns out not to be who Evie thought he was, Em bent on self-destruction, Evie must save her friend by doing the one thing she thought she could not to: let her go.

Thoughts:

This book had the typical fashion of a teenage love story and friendship, with a little twist that made it unique. Amy McNamara gives us the character of Evie, her father died before she could really remember him, mother misses him desperately, so she tries to keep their depressing apartment in New York a little less depressing. Then Em came into her life, the polar opposite personality wise to Evie, yet they got along, and grew up together. McNamara gave us a realistic idea of a teenage girl's life, as after Em had sex for the first time, started acting older and superior to Evie. That was their shift in equalness, as Em starting going through guys like crazy, and Evie could not even manage to kiss the one she liked. Their friendship turned toxic as Em started using Evie to cover up for her, which Evie did because she loved Em, and did not want to betray her. After all, we witness the one time Evie did not cover for Em and looked what happens. This book also contained several plots, each of them answered by the end of the book. The friendship plot between Evie and Em, the romance between Evie and Theo, then Patrick’s death and how that affected Em’s current day life. Where this book would not stand out to you for any reason, besides McNamara beautiful cover for it, this book is important because it is all about dealing with a toxic friend, how to get out of that friendship and be better off without it.