#THERE WAS ONE WITH THE. FUCKING TALKING BALL ON TREEHOUSE I THINK?? WHAT WAS HE
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puppyeared · 2 years ago
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biceratops7 · 1 year ago
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HOly fucking SHIT-
Guys I just had a complete Shellstrop style “holy motherforking shirt balls” moment at work about Donnie’s unusual speaking patterns. You know, when he does this:
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This tendency to narrate his actions in the third person or verbally say onomatopoeias in place of the sound is uh… well it’s autistic right? Look it features in literally every compilation but no one knows why other than “vibes, sometimes it just be like that 🤷”
But NO. No it NOT be like that. I finally know what this fucking nerd is doing, hear me out…
… he’s scripting.
Think about it. You know what else describes action, emotion, and sound in purely words? Books. He has these little speaking quirks, yah, but if you actually zoom out and see the whole picture, Donnie talks like he’s a narrator. This makes a SHIT ton of sense considering we already have textual evidence that he engages in scripting behavior (more specifically some possible echolalia. See: saying “New York! What a Town!” in any situation something kind of abnormal happens after he hears Splinter say it with the exact same infections and everything.)
And we also know from the mystic library that Donnie actively seeks out and enjoys reading. So it stands to reason an autistic 14 year old who likes to be left alone to work on complex machines a decent amount and takes pride in his intellect would model the way he communicates off of written media as opposed to tv or his brothers. He could fill his social tool box with lines from Jupiter Jones and Lou Jitsu movies, but he may think it would give him less of a chance to properly express his capabilities.
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Books are also the only form of media that can literally just tell you flat out what a character’s expression or emotion is supposed to be without it being awkward, which would be really appealing for Donnie. What solidifies this for me is the fact that at least once he verbally says “sad face emoji”, which could not have come from a novel or textbook. But we often do flagrantly use emoticons as tone indicators, and Donnie is constantly on his phone.
I think he’s definitely aware that this is not a regular way of communicating, but he’s clearly also self aware of his issues in getting his emotional meaning across and receiving input back. So it stands to reason he would accommodate this in a way that, yes, makes him sound odd, but is at least effective.
Now for my final little “I’ve connected the dots. I’ve connected them” moment, I headcannon that Donnie learned to read before he fully got the hang of speech. Aside from… literally everything I just said, he uses sign language to tell the squirrels to blow up his treehouse in that one episode. But he does the sign for “make” a bit incorrectly (there should be a slight twist in his upper fist), which leads me to believe he was probably taught baby sign out of necessity rather than being fully proficient in asl. This is fairly common for autistic children with speech delays.
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eyesteeth · 1 year ago
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my thoughts and theories on fionna and cake
so from the trailer alone i’m pretty sure this is going to be very Simon-centric. as established in the main series, Fionna and Cake is genderbend fanfiction written by Ice King. however, it seems likely that the Fionna and Cake focused on in this series will not be the one within Simon’s mind - not fully, anyway.
i initially believed that the Fionna and Cake we see in this series would be entirely figments of Simon's imagination - fanfiction used as a coping mechanism. Fionna's world is realistic and bland and mundane because Simon's "lost the magic in his life", and Fionna's world gaining magic would be a sign of changes in his mental state.
i no longer believe this because i took too many screenshots of the trailer. however, i do think that the Fionna and Cake of Simon's mind will be relevant, and Fionna's world mirroring Simon's is an intentional comparison.
my take is this - Fionna and Cake is going to have an overarching a-plot of Fionna figuring out what's gone wrong with her world and defeating the threat, and a b-plot of Simon facing his mortality and his trauma and coming to terms with both.
that's my tl;dr. long post below.
Simon’s a character with a lot of depth to him, but none of the Distant Lands specials focused on him, so it’s his turn to hold the Trauma Ball. we know that he isn’t immortal anymore with the crown gone. he’s visibly aged in the trailer, growing some white hair, and is wrinklier.
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(Tom Kenny also said in an interview that this is the most emotional thing he’s worked on, and Tom Kenny’s been in fucking everything, so you know it’s gonna be big. i cannot for the life of me find the source for this so you're gonna have to trust me on this one.)
aging is clearly gonna fuck Simon up for multiple reasons - beyond the normal stuff, aging means he's going to look like Ice King, making himself a visual reminder of the worst time of his life. he also spent a very long time as an immortal, and adjusting to the idea of death after centuries of being the same age is probably gonna fuck with him.
he’ll also be dwelling on his past - there’s shots in the trailer of him and Marcy together right after the Mushroom War, likely filling in some gaps from that time. we already got a whole episode dedicated to their time together in the main series, so there's no need to tread that ground again - this will likely show new moments with them or recontextualize things with the state Simon's in now.
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(there's also a shot of both of their feet but i couldn't fit both sets of shoes on one frame)
then there’s a shot of what’s very obviously a musical number from the in-between state of Simon and Ice King. this could be the first time he puts on the crown (or an early time), resulting a darkly upbeat moment of juxtaposition, or it could be an equally dark current-day moment along the lines of “wasn’t it so nice when you had the crown on and you didn’t have to think about anything? when you were immortal and too out of it to realize how bad of a spot you were in?”
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or it could be a secret third thing. keep this image in mind, it'll be relevant later.
as for some miscellaneous screenshots, takes these two:
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Simon's coat is missing in the first but he still has it in the second, so either he goes on two separate adventures in Ooo, or the first image takes place after the second. i stand by this being Ooo in the first image because of the trees in the background. as for the second image, that's Finn in the top right, and the treehouse on the left. because of how old Finn looks in the big promo image, i assume this takes place between Obsidian and Together Forever - Jake is dead but Finn is not. Finn and Simon might have a talk about death and dying if the mortality thing gets brought up, or Finn might just be here to help Simon get where he needs to go.
to where they are going, one can only speculate. it might be Prismo's cube, but i'm a little iffy on that. the cube is massively relevant by the way and is likely how Fionna and Cake end up crossing paths with Simon.
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because Prismo's whole deal is alternate universes (gestures at Farmworld Finn) i believe that this is how Fionna and Cake come to Ooo. Prismo's cube is even in the logo for this show, it's that important.
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(Simon is no stranger to Prismo, we got the above moment in the Adventure Time finale, so him traveling to Prismo with Finn's help is a possibility.)
anyway, time for the people the show is actually named about!
for their side of the plotline, the description of the trailer is quite enlightening:
"Based on characters from the beloved “Adventure Time” franchise, this brand-new 10-episode series set in the land of Ooo follows the alternate universe versions of Finn & Jake on a multiverse-hopping journey towards self-discovery. When Fionna and her sidekick Cake find themselves in the crosshairs of a powerful new foe, they have no choice but to seek the help of former Ice King Simon Petrikov." (emphasis mine)
notably, they are referred to explicitly as alternate universe versions, so they are indeed their own people. i also find it curious that Fionna's life is somehow mundane enough to lack magic, yet wacky enough to have a "powerful new foe". unless that something is actively sucking the magic out of their universe, this particular foe is a mystery to me.
however, because multiverse hopping is mentioned, i believe that the big foe is gonna have ~some weirdness~ about it, possibly attacking universe after universe for its intended goal ala [insert your preferred bagel-based multiverse movie here]. i'd also like to present the following screencaps to the court:
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the use of line color, color choice, and shading in between the two on the left and the two on the right are like night and day. so, given the multiverse theme, i propose that these are two different Fionnas - the Fionna and Cake as presented by Simon on the left, and the real magicless Fionna from her universe on the right. alternatively, the one on the left could be Fionna after she comes to Ooo, and she just gets a costume change.
(also, the musical number shot has coloring similar to the set on the right, potentially indicating that scene takes place in the same location/episode/universe/etc as those shots. this is the third secret thing.)
(also also, this is probably way too off the wall to be true, but the ones on the right look incredibly similar to Bee and Puppycat in terms of color, and given that Natasha Allegri is responsible for both Bee and Puppycat and the creation of Fionna, this series could get into ideas of creation, using Simon's Fionna vs the real Fionna as an allegory somehow. i will be shocked if this happens, i think it's just visual flair tbh, i just wanted to get this thought out of my brain)
if this wasn't a spotty post before here's where it gets Real Spotty:
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i believe this is Fionna in Ooo, she's in a bunny hat and she's with a kid in Finn's clothes. i believe this is Ooo because of the fire people at the bottom. Fionna is also still wearing the outfit she had on in the bus in the beginning of the trailer, leading me to believe that she gets to Ooo after that set of scenes.
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i further believe this is Ooo, because we see the same kid in this shot. that's Simon's leg on the right, muddied up, so this could be after his adventure with Finn. on the left is the Fionna and Cake script in the bin, this being the Fionna and Cake Simon came up with. my guess is that this kid is a fan of the Fionna and Cake Simon came up with and this outfit is a cosplay. maybe he published his fanfiction. good for him.
as for the city behind the closing door...
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... maybe it could be this? i'm not sure if this city is on Ooo, frankly. the trees are different. maybe Fionna, Simon, and this kid all went to an alt universe together by accident? and that's why the kid looks so distraught in the shot with the bin?
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for my last image-based comment, simon's sleeve has been torn off here (bottom of his-right-our-left arm) so it's possible that whatever muddied his pants in the bin shot also got his coat messed up, possibly his adventure with Finn.
to recap this meandering post
here's an extremely weak guess of plot points from the previously proposed concepts
Fionna lives a normal, bland life, realizes something is wrong, and ends up in Ooo over the course of a day. within this day, she does her job on the bus, sees something's up with Cake, experiences some dimension weirdness, chases Cake at some point, her and Cake end up falling, and then it's Ooo time.
in Ooo, she meets a kid that's a fan of Fionna and Cake - from the stories Simon wrote and published.
Fionna decides she needs Simon's help, possibly because he's apparently written books about her, so they go to get him
meanwhile, Simon's had a bad mental health day and is spiraling.
he ends up in the woods with Finn for some reason, possibly to death talk, and they have an adventure that takes the length of the day. by the end of it, Simon's clothes are torn up and he just wants to go home.
he goes home and sits down for like A Minute before Fionna and the kid show up at his place.
(there is no evidence for this but i feel like seeing the character you made up in your genderbend fanfic irl would be freaky so Simon's like "wow i've fucking lost it i'm hallucinating my oc")
situation gets explained to a very non-receptive Simon
the three/four of them head off onto a multiversal quest with widely varying levels of enthusiasm
over the course of the quest shenanigans ensue and Simon has many moments of contemplation on his past and future
Fionna gets the situation with her home universe figured out
You Will Cry Your Eyes Out
the end
that's all i got. feel free to go crazy in the notes.
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dirtyoldmanhole · 1 year ago
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so i've been low key pondering over what is it about gunter that twigged my 'dude, you are a freak nasty kinky fuck (solidarity 🤝)' radar from day one.
ergo, have an old school ~*krad does a character analysis essay*~
under the cut for kink talk and also sheer length !
introduction
why would I want to lead into this reading?
gunter is honestly, to me, an extremely cool subversion of his own FE archetypes on top of (imo) what types of characters are "allowed" to be kinky. a good chunk of FE characters, particularly jeigan archetypes tend to be one note about their devotion to their lords and/or country, and a little stuffy/uptight. when they do have a personality, they still tend to be pretty "safe" nurturing caretaker type of archetypes (eg, titania, and i say that loving her as a character).
of course, nothing wrong with liking said archetype; my tastes just happen to run differently.
gunter is explicitly both those things (could be read as uptight and a caretaker) and still, fascinatingly -- has his darker sides. you don't have a whole-ass ingame cgi and arc of going ham as the possessed yandere villain with a pretty consistent sexual undertone and still keep a ~purely wholesome~ reputation.
so what's the in-game canonical nods that started pinging the radar?
point one: i'm still not over the whip reference in his corrin supports
the tl;dr of his fcorrin C-A support is they pick up an old game of theirs since her northern fortress years -- playing catch with an old leather ball. it isn't until the A support that you hear gunter made the ball from a whip that garon handed to him to whip corrin as discipline.
this assumes several things: (1) gunter knows his way around whips (2) to the point of most likely whipping somebody in discipline before, otherwise why would garon be so convinced he'd follow through? and then
(3) nintendo why the fuck would you add something like this if you didn't intend on us reading some kind of vibe here LMAO. the fact that treehouse kept this line while "sanitizing" most other deeply horny fates scripts makes me inclined to think they knew they'd be breaking gunter's entire characterization if they'd tried to bowderize it, or they just didn't give a shit, thinking that they could probably get away with it since he's not niles-popular. (both can be true).
while it doesn't mean everyone with a passing interests in leather and whips is automatically some flavor of kinkster. just. speaking from IRL experience, the crossover between the groups is also a wee bit higher than the background population. either they tend to be a younger man looking to be "badass" like indiana jones, or their job involves some flavor of implement or ... yeah.
point two: mcorrin/fcorrin script differences & gunter harboring feelings for fcorrin (always has been.jpg)
additional script differences cost money. companies like nintendo hate spending money especially when there's a finite budget, and doubly so for non-popular characters.
so ime, when there's a clear difference between scripts in a non-obvious spot, and it's there in both the JP/EN versions like gunter's final revelation talk with mcorrin and fcorrin, i pay attention. that's nintendo more often than not underlining something and saying "hey, this matters to characterization".
cue this bit after you bring gunter back from the brink of being possessed and talking some sense into him:
Corrin: Whatever your motivations, you stayed by my side and helped me. Your intentions may have been dark, but you were still good to me. (If Corrin is male) Corrin: And that's what you'll always be—my friend. (If Corrin is female) Corrin: You'll always be important to me. Gunter: But, I... I killed Scarlet... Corrin: I know, but you were under the control of Anankos. You weren't you. If you truly wish to atone for what you've done, you must live. Live for Scarlet's sake. Live for the family that was taken from you. I need you to help me fight Anankos. To protect all the people he could still hurt. (If Corrin is male) Corrin: Let's go. Our final battle awaits. (If Corrin is female) Gunter: ... Corrin: Let's go. Our final battle awaits.
now obviously, with a literal "dot dot dot" line, you by definition have to read into the sentiment. one could just as easily argue that here....
.....
nope, i got nothing, lol. m!corrin gets a very pointed "you're my friend" line, and if nintendo wanted to dissuade from the romantic/sexual subtext, they could have awkwardly tried to stick to their more neutral "you're my mentor/father figure/etc" guns which read way more platonic, especially if you kept it the same for both.
that script change is only for f!corrin, and gunter has a few other script mentions where f!corrin gets something extra from him. this combined with f!corrin's particularly sexual-subtext-ladened support chain with the whip-ball (versus m!corrin's pretty platonic "feed the poor kid") vibe hints that he's always held a flame for f!corrin, which leads into asking some pretty interesting questions about his tastes.
it's some kinda vibes all right!
imma also be honest: (possessed!)gunter gets a little sexually subtextual in general. there's other revelation quotes like this during the confrontation --
Gunter: I would tear every last bit of innocence away from you.
(dude) (wow)
-- and the gothic horror camera angle/framing of certian scenes with him alone with corrin, most pointedly when corrin's alone with him, anankaos channels himself through gunter, the screen goes white, and corrin wakes up with him leaning right over her, practically on top of her. all of these add up to one hell of a sexual subtext in the last three chapters.
i could break this down further into shot by shot visual analysis since that's my field as a design manager, but this essay's long as is (and I'll cover this in the current revelation liveblog anyway).
point three: there's a suspicious amount of nohrian characters that have explicit kinks
there's xander with his JP crossdressing supports. niles with his ... nearly everything in his quotes, bless him. and camilia too on the ladies side what with her sadisim and S/M behavior, more blatant in the JP script side which is (ime) the more faithful one.
I'm probably missing an example here (garon also felt weirdly sexual for a FE dad/final boss, somewhat usually lampshaded in the comments of the 'azura dances for him' cgi movie), and that's not even mentioning the faceless which -- i don't know about you, but i've seen actual folsom BDSM gear less kinky than that enemy design.
clearly: nintendo's not exactly afraid to lay some sexual subtext with nohrian characters. hoshidos generally don't get this treatment, this often.
is it likely part and parcel of how they intended to "villain code" nohrian characters, since adding kinks to an antagonistic faction has a long history in media to make them feel more "othered" and dangerous? most likely!
regardless, i absolutely get why they'd layer in that vibe with gunter especially in revelation's route when he's one of the final bosses. adding an edge of sexual menace is an easy if cheap way to butter on that foreshadowing, and it separates him from the "nice(r) guy gunter" in the conquest married route.
sort of.
to which ...
point four: there is no polite way to get around the incesty caretaker daddy vibe in their married route so imma just say it lmao
[ just gestures wildly at his A-S support chain with fcorrin ]
somebody who is completely vanilla is not uhhh, going to have that love conversation/confession right after a literal 'father figure' mention :'D
people are entitled to their own tastes, and while i'm the type to bounce in when people bounce out "because it got too creepy", i do think it's pretty telling that there's a hell of a lot of people that got twigged out of their support and don't generally pursue it unless if they're completion fanatics. even if I'm reading way the hell into this -- they're responding to something, that's for darn sure.
one more thing to point out with the supports --
Gunter: And since you missed, you must answer a question I have for you. Corrin: All right, ask away. Gunter: Is there anyone in camp that you have particularly strong feelings for? Corrin: Wh-what? Why would you ask that? Gunter: Ah, I'm the one who is asking questions.
by itself, that last line could read fairly platonically. but with everything else.... whew. this is a man who's very aware of power dynamics. speaking of --
point five: just trust me bro
call it uhhhh prurient interest, but there has been quite a few times when i've nailed a (IRL) person's interest in kink by that version of a gaydar :P just a little too many times for it to be coincidence.
if you're asking me, the tell-tale hints are usually :
(a) a hyper-awareness of power dynamics compared to normies,
and
(b) hints of adjacent interest/sub-cultural aesthetics. (eg, goth and alt-fashion, common kink implements that can be hidden in plain sight like handcuffs, whips, boots, leather as a fashion).
and obviously we're talking about a fictional character which changes the conversation (characters being built from the ground up to serve a plot. rather than a fleshed out autonomous human being with their own set of preferences that can change over time), but listen, mate -- if my kink radar was a geiger counter, gunter here lit up like fucking chernobyl. :P
all I have to do is point at the whip bit to (5b), and regarding point (5a) ... well. you know the interesting thing about kinksters is that in addition to power dynamics, some of them have a particular thing about titles?
you know who else has a whole very specific thing about titles?
in conclusion
now, all that said, could it be wish fulfillment? absolutely. and it does need to be said -- i dig the character a lot for many other reasons! but i'm focusing on this kink angle in this essay as frankly, it's not a popular topic to talk about in fandom, and it's a fascinating itch to scratch at.
there's the sense in wider media these days that anyone over the age of 40-50 isn't allowed to have a sex life much less something as edgy as kinks unless if they're a complete monster, which is both as untrue as it is unfair. shame never helped anyone -- and i've always been partial to my messy favorite characters who never apologized for what they were. once a villainfucker, always a villainfucker.
either way, there are distinctly too many coincidences for me to write him as anything but, and I'm having fun in this sandbox ~
thanks for reading!
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wing-ed-thing · 3 years ago
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Treehouse (Shikamaru x Reader)
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Word Count: 1,232
Tags/Warnings: Discussion of Death and Loss, Gender Neutral Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, War Casualties, Language, Description of Panic Attack, Mention of Minor Original Character
Notes: I almost cried writing this, it got a little real ngl
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You curled up on the platform in the trees somewhere deep in the forest that surrounded Konohagakure. You didn’t know where else to go and took shelter underneath the roof of your old, childhood treehouse. Leaves littered the floor and the wood underneath you had been permanently stained by water. You didn’t think anyone still came by to maintain your old playspace. Papers and brushes still poked out of long forgotten drawers. A few fake kunai were still lodged in the cheap wooden dartboard by the window. Standing, your head barely cleared the top boards, undeniably larger than the last time you were there. And yet, as you sat sobbing in the corner, feeling the smallest you had ever felt.
A hyperaware part of you felt Shikamaru’s chakra signature as he landed on the patio just outside the wooden windowsill. Of course, out of all the people in the village, he would know where to find you. His vague shadow flickered across your closed eyelids, the sun rising at his back. You heard a dull thud, making you startle just the slightest bit.
“Fuck…” you heard him mutter, something that would have made you laugh in any other circumstance. The dead leaves rustled around him as Shikamaru took his spot next to you, his shoulder touching yours. You remained buried in your knees and arms wrapped around yourself. Shikamaru stared at the back of your head for a few moments before leaning back against the wooden wall, arms crossed. “Do you want to talk about it?” He crossed his arms over his chest, his uniform still on from the morning’s expedition just like you. You shook your head.
“I fucked up, Shika,” you hardly managed to croak out. Shikamaru let out a deep sigh that bubbled in his throat and simmered out through his nose.
“You didn’t.” Sympathy had never been a strong tool in his wheelhouse and he restrained a certain amount of hardness in his voice. But more than anyone, he understood. “I’m not just blowing smoke. I don’t want you to tear yourself up over this because you did the best that you could.” You continued to shake, stuttering your response as pure emotion flooded your brain.
“Shi-ka…” you stammered, trying to find your words as you raised your head towards him. But the moment you saw his concerned face, you broke down. Shikamaru caught your retreating limbs before you had an opportunity to close up on yourself again, positioning himself in the middle of your chaos as you began to scream and sob into his shoulder. He held you, nearly collapsed across him, with his hands at the back of your neck. “My b-best k-k-killed people!” Shikamaru took your shoulders gently in his hands, attempting to move you to look at you, but you refused to budge. He returned back to holding you.
“Hey, no, no, no that’s not true!” Shikamaru hushed you in a gentle voice. Your hands balled tighter in the mesh of his shirt, his skin now becoming dampened by your tears through the fabric. You looked like you were in so much pain and despite having experienced exactly what you were going through, Shikamaru had to admit that he didn’t have all the answers this time. He took a breath, attempting to gather himself. “No one could have seen it coming. You took charge as, as, uh, a leader and you did the best that any leader could in a horrible situation.” He wasn’t used to sounding so optimistic.
“You didn’t see them at the hospital. T-Tamaki just had a, a son一!”
“And Tamaki knew what he was getting into.” You cursed to yourself, breaking away from Shikamaru to wipe the tears and mucus away from your face. You sniffled to yourself, teetering between grief and frustration. Shikamaru gathered up your hands in his as he took a sharp breath in. “Hey, I want you to look at me,” he said, voice ever-commanding and you met his eyes with your puffy ones. “You know I don’t ever bullshit you, right?” Even if he didn’t have all the answers, he could look like he did for your sake. You shook your head, causing Shikamaru to raise an eyebrow. “What was that?”
“No, you don’t bullshit me,” you gulped, taking another sniff.
“That’s right, so I’m going to be real with you, okay?” He brushed against the back of your hands with his thumb. He caught your eye. “Okay?” You nodded.
“Okay.”
“You know why Lady Fifth chose you to lead this expedition?” A few more tears dribbled down your cheek and Shikamaru brushed them away.
“No, why?” you asked, voice as small as you felt.
“Because you’re a great leader.” You opened your mouth to speak, to retort him, but closed it at Shikamaru’s pointed stare. “You had a great plan and a great team to back you up. Usually一” He huffed. 一 “When a newbie runs a mission like this, there’s usually a lot of fuck ups.”
“Wow, thanks, Shika.” You cracked a smile and Shikamaru rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. He gave your palm a light squeeze and your squeezed back, tracing the veins in the back of his hand.
“But you didn’t have any. Fuck, if you would jsut let me finish my sentences…” The corners of his mouth turned upwards as he looked away. His bittersweet smile melted. “I know you. You did all that you could. You were up strategizing all night, I know you were. So I’m telling you, no shinobi, no matter how experienced, could predict an attack like that. This wasn’t anything that you could control. You did the best you could with what you were given.”
“So many good people lost their lives under my command…” you lamented, though quieter, more tears coming to sting away at your sinuses. Shikamaru gently bumped two fingers at the bottom of your chin and you looked back up at him and the sincerity in his irises.
“And those good people knew what line of work they signed up for. All of these things happen sometimes and you are not to blame for what you can’t control. And all those other people, who could have been lost that you saved, have you and your leadership to thank for their lives.” You bowed your head under the beams of the rising sun that fluttered in through the window. Birds chirped somewhere outside, signaling the beginning of the day.
“How did you find me here anyway?” you asked. A soft chuckle ripped from Shikamaru’s throat.
“I must’ve found you here every day when we were in the Academy… You’d fall out of this tree every goddamn day trying to一”
一“practicing my chakra control.”
一“practice your chakra control.”
You spoke in unison.
Quiet overtook the treehouse. The sun had fully risen in the sky, serving only as a reminder to how tired you were. The mission left you sleep deprived, the residual trauma only draining you of your little residual energy. Shikamaru followed your gaze to the clouds outside, remembering why he liked this place in his childhood.
“If and when you take another mission like this, somewhere down the line when you’re ready, you know I’ll be there for you. You’re a captain that the Leaf will be lucky to have.”
Another pause.
“Thank you, Shika.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.
@brokennerdalert​
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emblemxeno · 3 years ago
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Xander and Fandom Reaction
I can talk about Xander all day, but in terms of fandom reaction to him one of the things that always gets me is how during the second (or technically third) chapter of the game, he-with not much hesitation-goes to fight Corrin in order to kill Kaze and Rinkah... and somehow the “story version” of him is what’s not consistent, or the main problem with him because “he’s so nice and cool in his supports.”
You play this chapter before you unlock supports. You don’t have the (incorrect) knowledge that he’s “wiser and braver than he was as a child, so now he can stand up to Garon”. You don’t have the lines where he suddenly talks back to Garon and talks badly about him behind his back during the story chapters. But then you do get to those chapters, and you realize, wait a minute; if this is how you really feel, then why during chapter 2 were you not like that before?
The answer is that it’s not how he really feels. Xander would never say those things, not in reference to Garon and certainly not to his face. Xander is not your perfect, supportive nii-san who loves You unconditionally but is forced to hold the idiot ball against all logic because “blah blah blah Fates writing bad.” No, he’s an incredibly traumatized man with suicidal thoughts, who was complicit in lying to his kidnapped sibling all their life, who dealt with family members and retainers dying around him all the time, who is familiar with the feeling of having to fight and probably kill his loved ones for disobeying Garon, who is quite literally too stressed and anxious to tell everyone not to be scared of him because, yeah, he’s really fucking scary. And this is the hell he’s lived with for years. Years. And his response to all this is to continue living it, in hopes that it can get better-that his father can get better-despite all signs saying it won’t. What’s another response he has to this? Killing himself by forcing Corrin to fight him. Xander is not a paragon of princely duty, supportiveness and compassion, he is an intimidating mess of anxiety and trauma who is always on edge.
It’s why the final chapters of Conquest are fucking powerful, because he breaks free and chooses to live and fight back. Years of him saying “it’ll be better tomorrow” and chapters of you the player seeing him in denial and suffering just as much as Corrin and the other siblings, he’s able to break out and grow stronger once he sees undeniable proof that his father is gone, that what’s left is a monster who took the worst parts of Garon and shifted them into overdrive. His growth is the catalyst for the Yato evolving again.
And I can drag on about Treehouse again because they are quite literally to blame for this, but god at this point, it’s not even the just fact that it’s another one of their many screw ups. It’s the fact that fans saw Xander being inconsistent every other chapter (among other issues with the localized script) and instead of thinking “oh maybe it has something to do with the team that inserted memes into the game, cut out character dialogue, rewrote other characters into caricatures and couldn’t even be bothered to do the last batch of DLC therefore also negatively impacting western players gameplay wise”, we got “well the game is just written badly” or “obviously it’s cuz there were multiple scenario writers, too many cooks in the kitchen and all that” or “the writers cared more about fanservice than making a good plot after Awakening”.
Ugh.
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strawberrylemonz · 4 years ago
Text
Three Makes a Team
Part 2
Part 3 [CURRENT]
Part 4
DT: @wintercat96 FOR BEING SUCH AN AWESOME PERSON THAT EXISTS, LIKE HOLY FUCK I’M STILL NOT OVER THE ART YOU MADE
Thomas - DSMP! Tommy [Post Doomsday - Pre Disc Saga Finale]
Toms - Rust! Tommy
------------
The Tommy’s took Thomas’ disregard for physics and gravity to their advantage. Anyone who had the ability to visit the two would have voiced their concerns, but the two wouldn’t care. If anything, they’d laugh at the mere thought of their house not being stable. It didn’t matter if the different areas of the treehouse was lopsided, because it looked cool as fuck. 
“Think we should finally visit that town we saw up North? Maybe we can figure out how currency works here.”
“We literally have nothing else to do, let’s do it.”
Packing up a few supplies, the two climbed down the rope ladder and out of the trunk. Humming as Thomas walked past him, Toms pulled a branch, causing the ladder to retract and the trap door to close from above. After the two secured their home, they made their way down the half made path towards the nearest town. 
--------
“Well, thank fucking god you went mining, Thomas.”
“Tell me about it. All that annoying work paid off, and now we have enough money to pay for whatever we want.”
The two flashed each other grins as they peered through shop windows, looking for things to put in their empty house. Just as they were about to enter a shop, an all too familiar voice caught their attention.
“Are you sure you’ve never heard of it? Positive? Well, have you heard of Deo? No? That doesn’t make sense! I was literally just on Business Bridge!”
The two Tommy’s exchanged a grim look as they rushed towards the voice, excusing themselves from passing pedestrians. Peeking around the corner of a shop, they saw what they expected. There, messing with the cuffs of his suit, stood another Tommy. Thomas perked up as Toms tilted his head, unsure of where this Tommy came from. Walking up from behind, Thomas tapped the Tommy’s shoulder. And as the new addition turned around, Thomas and Toms prepared for what was to come. 
“Yea- whAT THE FUCK?!”
--------
The two managed to calm the extra Tommy down, giving quick apologies to passerby's. As they sat down in a clearing by the woods, a sandwich for each boy. After a moments silence for them to take a good amount of bites, they began to speak up, introducing themselves. Once the first two were finished with their introductions, it was time for the new addition. Swallowing the bit of sandwich that was in his mouth, he nodded before speaking.
“I’m, well, Tommy, obviously. I’m from Business Bay, in the SMPEarth server. I was walking down Business Bridge to meet up with Deo, when I saw this gem. Next thing I knew, the wind blew me over the bridge. Before I could hit the water, I fell on a ledge by a small mountain nearby this town. I wandered around before I ended up here, and began asking around for help. That’s when you two found me.”
“Gem? Can you show us?”
“Sure, here it is.”
Digging into his pocket, the dapper looking young man pulled out an orange gem. Holding it up for the others to see, he shrugged as he took another bite from his sandwich. 
“You have one too?”
He stopped chewing before turning to the others, quickly swallowing before lowering the gem. Confused, he placed his sandwich in his lap and tilted his head. 
“Too? You mean, you two have one?”
“We each do, see.”
Showing off their broaches, they revealed their identical gems, shining in different colors. 
“What kind of voodoo-”
“-magic-”
“-wizard-”
“-shit is this?”
After much discussion, they decided to investigate once they got back to the T-Tree. Finishing up lunch, the three finished shopping in the town’s shopping district. Gathering their new belongings, they made their way back home, Thomas and Toms explaining how the treehouse works, and how it came to be. As they climbed into the tree, the sun began to set beneath the horizon. Thomas was setting up the living area for their new recruit while Toms was gathering sleeping clothes for him, the new Tommy inspecting the home during all this. Nodding in approval, he didn’t realize Toms’ was approaching him. Yelping, he nearly punched the scarred look alike. Apologizing, he accepted the clothes as he walked off to change. When he arrived back to the living area, he quirked an eyebrow at seeing the other two on their own couches, obviously dressed for bed.
“Alright, what’s this then?”
“What you going on about?”
“Don’t you guys have your own rooms?”
“Duh, so?”
“So, why are you two here?”
“Tommy inauguration! You’re joining our Tommy Team”
“Stupid name”
“Shut up, you were thinking about it”
“I didn’t say it”
“Fuck you”
The three joked and laid around as they spoke about themselves. Finally building up his courage, the newest Tommy asked the question that plagued his mind.
“How did you two get your scars?”
Toms was the first to shrug, not seeing it as much of a big deal. 
“Mine are mainly radiation burn scars. They aren’t too bad, though. If you wanna see more scars, you’d have to meet Wilbur-”
“Wilbur? Wilbur Soot?”
“Yeah, turns out we all have one we know. “
Thomas chuckled as he settled down, bringing up his own experience. 
“My scars came from wars. This one is where I lost my first life, from Dream. This second was also from Dream, during a duel. This one is from a few accidents in Pogtopia after Wilbur and I were exiled. This one is from the fighting pit during my fist fight with Technoblade. These burns are from falling into lava too many times, these explosive scars here are from Dream blowing up Logstedshire. What else...oh! These are from the fireworks shot at me, Tubbo got in the way to save me so it didn’t leave too bad of a scar-”
“Tubbo? He’s in your world too?”
“And in mine, hes a cannibal”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Already asked that, it’s pretty...yeah”
“Okay, then. Let’s back up a bit, you fought in wars?”
“Don’t act like you haven’t-”
“Not the point, mine weren’t too bad or serious. The Antarctic Empire weren’t that ba-”
“Please, don’t mention them.”
“Okay?”
“Let’s change the subject.”
“Agreed, what’s the worst word you know?”
--------
It was around midnight when the three decided to settle for bed. Humming as he watched the other two settle down, the newest questioned.
“So, you're Thomas? And you’re Toms. Should I have an alter name, too?”
“Makes sense to me. What do you wanna go by?”
After talking for a bit, everyone giving suggestions, they all dozed off to bed. Thomas was sprawled across one of the couches, halfway off the couch. Toms was curled up into a ball on an armchair, his blanket tucked underneath him. And the newest recruit, T.B., was sprawled across the makeshift bed on the floor. As the three boys slept the night away, their gems lay untouched, glowing brightly throughout the night. 
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killemwithkawaii · 4 years ago
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Aside from the ending of Sally Face, Sal's past in Nockfell could've been expanded upon by maybe one or two chapters at the very least. Steve could've added a lighthearted filler to balance out the heaviness a bit and had Sal longingly look back on a happy memory before his last therapy session, before the interview (which I'm pretty sure was faked to get him to talk) or even before The Trial.
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(spoilers, spoilers everywhere)
I absolutely LIVE for filler and I'm REALLY hoping we get some in SF2, though the best bet we have at getting it would/will be in a SF animated series (which Steve said there is interest for!!) I'd love to see some lighthearted shenanigans and have some questions answered. 
A few things I'd like to see:
>When/where/how did Robert find out that Sal, Larry and Todd were hunting ghosts, how did they convince him that the ghosts were real, and exactly how much cash did he give them to fund their efforts?
>How did Henry and Lisa dating go? What is their marital life like? I WANT A SCENE FROM THE WEDDING AND SOME DOMESTIC FLUFF GODDAMNIT
>What was Sals (and everyone elses) funeral like?
>How exactly did the media cover his trial etc? How did the general public perceive him? Did his story inspire anyone else to investigate the cult? (In the scene where Dr. Enon goes to investigate the treehouse at Sals request in chapter2, there was graffiti on the apartments that reads, 'free sal,' and 'no more lies'- assuming Ash didn't write those things, who did?)
>What the fuck is with the red ball why is it so important like????
>What is the rest of Nockfell like? I want to see the gang bumming around town! I want to see them in college!! I want to see Larry hitting the gym and Todd going to the library and Neil at a coffee shop and Ash at the mechanic and Sal going to see his therapist! But most of all: I WANT TO SEE SAL AND LARRY AT THE SANITYS FALL CONCERT!! 
>My weeb ass is thirsty for a Beach and Festival Episode
>I think the entire fandom needs to see the scene where Larry (and everyone else) first sees Sals face
>More gizmo acting like hes people
>Life milestones (learning to drive, graduation, prom, etc)
>More Neil and Todd fluff
>Travis slowly turning against/sabotaging the cult and discovering himself in the process
>More cool/angsty ghost friends
>More tidbits about all the apartment residents (Bonus: David out on a fancy date with Sara bc he loves her uwu) 
>Sal having mom feels with Lisa
>OUTFIT AND HAIR STYLE VERIETY FOR EVERYBODY 
>Larry making puns at the worst moments (and we love him for it)
>1000x more sal sass (and maybe some sal ass/ fanservice in general 👉👈)
I'm sure I'll think of more but that's what I want off the top of my head lol
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troop52 · 3 years ago
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do u !!! have any character theme songs for the troop boys? Like any songs you think really fits them (and why u think it fits)?
THATS A GREAT QUESTION!!
Before I get into it Im going to plug this collaborative Troop Playlist on Spotify, feel free to add onto it!! Continuing with my picks
I think a lot of the songs I associate with The Troop in general are just because I happened to listen to them around the same time I got into the book in the first place (So they could only be tangentially related BUT only if you squint hard) Example: Drunk by The Living Tombstone, cant really tie it into the story but in my mind its linked Some better, more fitting songs under the cut (Side note its LONGGG IM SORRY... Also its all YouTube links because some of these arent on Spotify :'^()
Disclaimer -Like 95% of my choices arent really a "These lyrics match up exactly 1 to 1" but more of an overall "the vibe/general idea its trying to capture lines up" type thing. If that makes sense.
Its Alright by Jack Stauber: Kind of self explanatory, I think its a perfect song for these guys. From "It's alright, I'm here, Everything's alright, Feels weird but calm, I wanna hear It's alright" to the whole sound of it- its all great. Equal parts distressing and sad with an almost eerie calmness to it. Despite it all theyre gonna be alright, right?
The Second Little Piggy by Worthikids: Another one that I think is sort of self explanatory- at least with the chorus. "If my brain turns to mush, If the shit hits the fan, Will you be my friend?" Kind of the falling apart of everything, specifically their relationships, in light of the incident.
Poor George by James Supercave: Another case of "listened to at the same time I read the book" BUT I was actually making a Troop PMV script with that song. I never finished it but maybe Ill revisit it... just for you
Cold Summer by Le Matos ft Computer Magic: I dont even think this takes place in the summer but the VIBES and also it came from Summer of 84, which is another good piece of murder boy media.
Treehouse by Alex G ft Emily Yacina: This is a Eef and Max type of song because they are bffs and thats final. Basic song because Im not creative, but I think its a nice heart to heart theyd have (with Eef doing the talking)
Fifteen Minuets by Nick Krol: On the flipside heres a song that goes with Eef and Maxs friendship fracturing, once again more from Eefs side than Maxs. THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTINGGG
As far as songs for the boys as individuals hmmm thats a good one that I havent thought about as much...
MAX + The Ghosts by The Real Tuesday Weld: That survivors guilt... lyrics arent like a perfect match but I think it gets that sort of hollow feeling across. Hes haunted man... + Final Girl by Electric Youth: Ok its a little funny because har har Final Girl Trope but I mean HE IS ONE. ANd dont look at me its a nice song- "Others were gone, and you kept going on, You know they never really noticed, you were always different, One by one, They're all done, And you're the last one standing" + Going Grazy by Lonesome Wyatt and the Holy Spooks: HONESTLY this could go for all the characters but Im tagging it onto Max because hes the one who has to deal with the aftermath of losing everyone (sorry survivors guilt Max again </3) "Everyone's saying my mind is unsound, 'Cause I always see you when you aren't around" "They're gonna wrap me in a jacket of white, And lock me away in a room without light" is what cements it as a Max song for me
EEF + The Existential Threat by Sparks: Once again starting sad, I link this one specifically to his paranoia about the worms- especially with lines like "Can't they see the existential threat is on its way". Kind of exasperated no one else can see the danger (he thinks) hes in. + Wrecking Ball by Mother Mother: I know I know its basic but I cant help it!!! Eef anger issues arc we are shaking hands me too + Haunted by Laura Les: Eef struggles with people seeing him as "just like his father" and I think we can get some good angst out of this track if we keep that in mind. Especially the back half of the song with lyrics like "Do you think I'm frightening?" and "Mirrors shatter when I'm passing, broken glass and crashing" since he is just a reflection of his dad (to others at least). Also song good.
KENT + Goodbye Mr A by The Hoosiers: Mfw the disillusionment with authority sets in. I think the vibe fits when he had that little epiphany about how adults are fucked- not perfect but it gets the idea across me thinks. + I'm Gonna Win by Rob Cantor: Ties into his need to "win" aka be the best at everything, be in charge, all that jazz! Hell do whatever it takes to be successful, even if it hurts. That was a little emo + Toba the Tura by Forgive Durden ft Chris Conley: Not to be emo again but "They say you're gifted, well I just see a scared kid. They must have flipped it, your skills are latent. O, you snuffed the glow. Replaced it with coals. Threw away the throne... This mess that you've made, it's a six-foot grave. It's a home for your lonesome bones that remain. We'll disappear, but you'll stay here to rot" AND SO ON AND SO FOURTH representing his fall after it was revealed he was sick. He was referred to as "the uncrowned king" and was on top of the world but then POOF that all crumbled and it was made out that he basically deserved what happened to him. It would be fun to make a pmv of him with this song (Simplifying my thoughts a bit because Ive already written a LOT)
NEWT + I Earn My Life by Lemon Demon: Ok a little Kentcore but Im actually having a hard time coming up with songs for Newton so here we are, they can share. Newt existential crisis moment time I guess + Know How by The Crane Wives: POV Newt struggles with going through with the plans he makes to keep everyone safe (stopping Max from touching Kent, going back into the cabin, etc) "I am not brave, I am not brave, I keep my focus on what is safe, You drew a line, made up your mind, And now I'm struggling to realize" And also maybe struggling with his place in the group and as a person in general- all that living through his cousin thing. "I gotta wrap my head around, What my heart is telling me, I've been trying to drown it out, Just because I know what I am, I am supposed to do now, Doesn't mean I know, Doesn't mean I know how" + On The Outside by Oingo Boingo: Idk man. Hes on the outside lookin in!! Loner nerd!! Its ok though, we still love him
SHEL + Bad Blood by Creature Feature: The lyrics speak for themselves: "I can guarantee I will do evil things, The only way that you can stop me now, Is if you put me in the ground, Somewhere I'll never be found" + Frontier Psychologist by The Avalanches: Hinges on the fact that the principal or whoever was like "Your sons a freak" and Shels mom was like "HES PERFECTLY FINE" while Shelley was like dismembering an animal or something + Johnny by American Murder Song: The songs good but theres this ONE LYRIC that sucks so the link provided is an edited version and also a lovely Warriors oc video I think you should all enjoy and support <3 Anyway Shel would be Johnny I could see this song being a scene in the book. Field trip to Shels house and they find his murder garden
If anyone wants more for Im not opposed to making another post :^)
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madyxtothemax · 3 years ago
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The Pit Stop - Part Two with @MyArrowBends
Madyx:
<The minute he agreed, my grin stretched into a broad smile. I was sure it gave me away entirely, but that was alright considering he'd pretty much just called us both out. Atticus was making it really tricky to remain professional. My gut was telling me when I laid eyes on the goods I was going to be full on dickmatized. I already had his dick on my mind in a way I didn’t ever have it on my mind, mostly because anything beyond surface attraction was extinguished as soon as the wick got lit. I may have wanted it, but as soon as my temptation registered, my chemistry stripped me of it. It was fucked. Deeper interest meant distraction and therefore, thanks to the nature of my kind, there was something to keep it in check, kind of the equivalent of a hormonal response.
The reaction numbed my own receptors in favor of amplifying the one whose itch I was scratching. That was how it worked, their ultimate pleasure at the expense of mine. But, as was the way of nature, in order to thrive and evolve, there were loopholes, even for the fae. At the edges of my consciousness, something was hinting at the idea Atticus qualified. 
Was I interested? Hell yeah, I was interested and nothing so far had dulled for me, my antenna was still receiving, confirmed by a jump of my dick against my zipper. The awakenings kept coming and I was going to stop asking why to avoid any jinxing. There was a tugging at the back of my mind; I knew there was something about Atticus that was allowing this exchange. He was unique. I was chasing an internal lead but I couldn’t quite catch what it was. Not yet.
When he pulled his sweatshirt up over head, I didn’t miss how some of his t-shirt dragged up his abs with it before falling back down due to gravity. Fuck if that little flash of skin didn’t leave me wanting to hit rewind and watch it all over again. 
I had to get a grip. Seriously. 
Right. Business. I stretched back from my spot to grab the consent forms that required his autograph, handing it over to him.>
Formalities. Let’s talk about some specifics. Pain? Are you good with it? There’s an option of using a numbing agent. Check box three if you’re declining.  
Because of the nature of this piercing we’ll go with a larger gauge. I’m thinking either an eight or a ten. I brought out some twelve gauges but something tells me those will be too small. <Casual, real smooth, Madyx, why not just tell him you think he’s going to be impressive?> Too small with the gauge, the greater the risk of rejection. 
I’ll drop the first piercing a certain distance below your head, it may be instinct to start higher on the shaft but if you want a Prince Albert down the line, you’ll want to leave some space.
Are you with me so far? Any questions? <clearing my throat because suddenly I was really thirsty>  And when you’re ready, go ahead and whip it out for me. <There it was, heat in my cheeks and a smirk on my lips because I was giddy about seeing his cock, and hadn’t been shy about expressing it. I was ready to go for broke and blur every last line.>
Atticus:
-It felt like so much was suddenly happening all at once, which hadn’t that been what I was asking for when I told him to get needling me? I suppose it was. Couldn’t fault the guy for taking that request as seriously as he had when I originally asked about piercings. Madyx had been nothing but a professional on task, even through the flirting. He seemed to be dealing with things much better than I was. And that was a good thing, I didn’t want a guy with nerves and shaky hands coming at me with a needle. Hell no. 
A clipboard with a paper had been handed to me along with instructions to fill it out. Pain, numbing, more piercings. Woah. That needed addressing before any ink hit the page.- 
Uh. No. I won’t be getting a Prince Albert. I can tell you that with confidence. Something about it feels…just not for me. But you can still make the judgement on placement regardless. 
-Nodding to myself, I picked up the pen that came with the clipboard Mad had given me. I read over the words on the consent form, though they didn’t stick, I had to give them a couple more passes before I caught the gist of what should have been an easy read, my mind was still too preoccupied with everything, it didn’t have room for unimportant things like informed consent for a body modification procedure. I laughed as I realized it had been the same for me when I was working the nine to five.- Paperwork, yeah? Does anyone ever enjoy that part of these things? 
-I focused on filling in the blanks, and was surprised at how steady my hand felt. The nerves I was previously feeling seemed to settle right into anticipation and excitement. As I got to the part about pain, I hesitated. I knew I had a pretty decent pain threshold. I had survived falling out of my childhood treehouse, broke my ankle and still managed to hobble my way back into the house before I felt any real pain register.
I checked the box to forgo the numbing. It felt a little like cheating myself on the whole experience anyway. I didn’t want to look back on this night and regret having missed out on even some pain. Pain was the counterbalance to merely existing. It let you know you were alive. 
When he asked me if I had any questions, I shook my head no and looked up just in time to see his face flush with heat. Well now. My grin was instant and full as I passed him the completed paper. All doubt about his invite to stick around being out of pity fell away as fast as I could unbutton my jeans. That red on his cheeks told me he was just as affected by me as I was him. 
There was nothing left to do but put myself on display for him as instructed. Full wood be damned, I swung my legs around to rest on the outstretched part of the chair and pressed my back against the upper part as I pressed my feet down using the leverage to lift my hips up as I lowered the zipper, and in one smooth motion I pushed my jeans and boxers down enough to give him all the access he needed to get the job done.- 
Madyx:
<I eyed the paperwork, scanning into my head all of his preferences. I was thrilled by the fact he hadn’t opted for the numbing, but I didn’t think I’d add any bonus pain. We’d see how he handled the forceps and go from there. Setting the clipboard aside, I tried to avert my eyes, I really did, when it was curtain call time. I didn’t want him to feel as though I was going to sit there and gawk, but I’d be lying to myself if I wasn’t looking forward to the reveal. Shit, if my peripheral vision was any indication, I was in a world of trouble. I cleared my throat. Oh man. 
I’d encountered plenty of cock in my life and wasn’t lacking confidence when it came to his, but my attraction was throwing a wrench into the mix. Hello nerves. Here he was, cock out and I was the one hesitating. I stalled… getting everything I needed to make the piercings happen all lined up before finally finding my balls again. Rotating on my stool, my eyes went immediately to his...full staff.
Holy shit. 
His dick was...the Adonis of dicks.  I tried to casually rub my gloved-hand over my mouth to hide the way I was grinning on sight of it, but it was too late. It was NOT professional but I couldn’t help it. I was also full of gratitude because I had asked him to hang out before the reveal; I didn’t want him to feel objectified. The sexual tension between us was arresting but it wasn’t the only thing driving the mood.  Atticus seemed to be throwing off this vibe - no - a distinct message, that if he were going to get any pleasure out of the deal, I’d have to indulge in my own. 
I finally lifted my eyes to make that contact with his and smirked for what felt like the fiftieth time in the course of thirty minutes. It felt dirty. It felt right. It felt easy. I wondered how his desires would shift if I told him my pleasure would be his body under mine before my lips wrapped around that Adonis cock. And that that would just be the warm up. 
While my mind surfed these waves of fantasy, there was suspense in the silence, but it was not uncomfortable. I was overdue on throwing some dialogue into the mix.>  I can work with that. 
<Yep. I could. I could put in normal hours, plus overtime and then some holiday while I was at it. Ten gauge was going to be perfect. He definitely had the size for the eights, but his dick was too gorgeous to let the jewelry take center stage. I should have fucking known... it matched the rest of him.> 
I’m pretty confident you know yourself, so I believe you on the Prince Albert, but who knows what five years might change. <Grabbing one of the brushed steel barbells, I brought it up to set it against the back side of his shaft, below the head. I knew the metal would be cold against his skin and I couldn’t help myself from making contact. Gods...he was so hard, and it was apparently making my own cock want to stand up and shake hands. I inhaled through my nose to calm my shit, because I still had work to do. I moved the placement of the barbell down.> Number two I was thinking it should sit... right here. <I increased pressure this time, resisting every urge to add some fae enhancements to the mix.>  Thoughts? Do you want to see how any other styles look, make sure this is the right aesthetic? Not that you can’t swap it later, but I want you to like what you walk away with. <Ouch, somehow saying the last part stung and made me immediately want to retract the words for how they made me feel. Thankfully there was a double frenum piercing at hand, and that fact kept me anchored in the moment.>
Atticus:
-If ever I felt like I was living my life in slow motion, it was right now. Once I had shoved my jeans down, I settled into the chair and waited. It was much like ripping a band-aid off. Quick, easy, mostly painless. I looked over and watched as Madyx turned toward me, and almost laughed, he was doing his damndest to not outright stare. He was failing. I could see his gaze moving all over but it kept returning to my cock. That did wonders for the nerves I had been previously feeling about the whole situation. 
I could see the grin he wasn’t quite able to hide with his hand and if that wasn’t the most endearing thing I had seen, I didn’t know what was. It was obvious he was needing a couple of seconds to gather his thoughts, and I wanted to put him at ease, make a joke, something, but I was already struggling as much as he seemed to be. What a pair we were right now. 
Then, something must have righted itself for him, because he looked me dead in the eye and fucking smirked. 
Guess his thoughts had figured out where they wanted to go because he immediately followed that smirk up with a comment about being able to work with what I had on display. I laughed hard. More of the slightly awkward tension between us melted away in that moment. I was about to tell him he had no choice but to work with it because I wasn’t looking to have any cosmetic surgery done, but he once again brought up future piercings. I shook my head.- Seriously, I’d rather you tattoo your name across my forehead than get a…
-I trailed off as he brought a barbell up to check for sizing and all further words died on my tongue. I swallowed them down as the cool metal hit heated skin. It was light, barely there at first, but the second one I felt firmer pressure and all I could do was nod at his recommendations.- 
You’re the expert here, Mad. I trust you. Despite the current circumstances, I’m not exactly the flashy type, so go with whatever you think will look best. Better yet, choose what you would want to have. Yeah. Go with that. That’s what I want. What you’d choose if you were me.
-The idea of having hand picked barbells felt right. It would be something I could have with me to remember this night and experience. I knew I wouldn’t forget anything about this, or Madyx for as long as I lived. Everything from the moment I walked into the shop felt like I was living right in the middle of what would be one of those memories a person wished they could relive over and over again once it was over. His comment about walking away with something I liked hit right in the chest, and that took me by surprise. 
At no point during any of my travelling west had I felt the desire to put down roots, and now, this guy was sewing seeds of doubt and wonder. I wasn’t sure what to do with that. Sure, he asked me to stick around after the piercings were done, but that didn’t mean he meant for more than the night. Did it?-
Madyx:
<His laugh was the most rewarding sound I’d heard to date. With it the tension broke like a wave against the shoreline. We were feeling one another and with each transition in the current between us, the connection was more tangible. He was just about to have an identity crisis on me by suggesting he’d want my name in ink across his forehead over what I suspected was the Prince Albert I kept bringing up, but my actions had stopped him from finishing that statement. I couldn’t resist commenting.>
I like you, Atticus,  and there is no way in hell I’d let you get my name on your forehead. Maybe your ass, but not your face. <more smirking as I set the jewelry down> Promise me you won’t ever mess with all that gorgeous. 
<My tone was firm and unyielding, even with the understanding he’d been joking. He didn’t need any extras, he was almost too-easy on the eyes, his good looks authentic even under his pseudo-disguise of road wear. I was just about to ease into the comfort zone and cruise at a lazy pace, when he hit me with another heart-punch. 
My head leaned to one side and my grin lifted on the opposite end when he asked me to pick out the barbells for him. While I knew they were anything but permanent, something kicked at me deep down, an awareness that this was more than just a casual request from him. It was for me too. Hello fireball of feelings. I let every level hit me without putting up a defense. I was stunned, honored, aroused and touched in all the right ways. And….there was my heart again, banging so hard in my chest I felt the throb in my dick. My smile was broad and open.>
That’s a first. In my ten plus years of doing this, nobody has ever asked me to pick for them. Thanks for that trust.  <I hit his eyes with mine to hopefully convey the conviction in my words. I already knew what I was going with for him, but I was going to show him why. I picked up one of the brushed steel 10-gauges and held it between us.>  These...are understated. Also underrated, if you ask me. I promise you I’m not trying to pawn off inventory, but these have been overlooked by one-hundred percent of clients. Not only do they match your energy…these are going to leave any partner with a some extra sensation for the matte surface of the balls. It may be subtle, but not negligible. Check it out while I get you ready. <I dropped the barbell into his hand and redirected my attention to his cock. Damn. He definitely wasn’t flaccid. I switched out my gloves, snapping on a new set because I’d been premature with the first pair, even if they were just for show. A perk of being inked or pierced by a pleasure fae was the zero risk and accelerated healing for the recipient.  
I went about setting up the sterile environment, framing his crotch with surgical drape before opening up an antiseptic wipe to prep his shaft.> This might be a little cold. <I popped my brows and then swiped up and down the backside of his dick. Sweet hell, it was challenging to keep my head in the game. After I finished up with that, I pinched the skin below his head, it was tight, but I could get the needle through without risk of injury. Grabbing the forceps, I clamped the skin to hold it in place, lifting my eyes.> 
Take a breath with me, Atticus. 
<I waited for him to take that breath with me, inhaling when he did, and time seemed to stop and hold us suspended in the moment.>
When you’re ready. Just say the word. 
Atticus: 
-I had been expecting laughter, to have my request of Mad choosing the hardware for me brushed off on some kind of professional boundary or limitation given the personal nature, and how once used, the barbells couldn’t be returned if I didn’t like them. None of those things happened. Instead, I found myself holding a slightly rough piece of stainless steel, after being told to give it a feel. I rolled it between my thumb and index finger while my brain caught up with the compliments he had paid me only moments before. 
He liked me. That’s what he had said. I already figured as much, but getting the vocal confirmation was nice. I’d need it to remind myself if I went and got all doubting Thomas again. As I considered the way the brushed metal dragged over the pads of my fingertips, I chuckled to myself at how casually he had suggested tattooing his name on my ass. The idea struck me in a way that didn’t leave me feeling like I had earlier when he asked if I had been interested in getting some ink. And what a conundrum that left me in. 
I reminded myself I still was not the tattoo type, not by a long shot then shook my head to get my brain back online before I could make any more snap decisions, because getting two piercings was plenty of snap decisions for one night. The whole sticking around afterward was not being counted as a secondary snap decision. No way, it was all one, a giant umbrella of snap decision making. 
Madyx’s voice brought me out of my head and straight back into the present along with the rude awakening that was a cold swipe along the underside of my dick.- Shit. -I laughed in surprise then forced myself to pay the fuck attention. I had completely missed the whole paper apron thing that was now on my lap happening. 
If I wanted to replay this memory in my mind in the near future, and I knew that I would, I’d need to absorb as much detail as I could. Gaps and missing steps did not a proper memory make. Solid memories were supposed to fade slowly, over time, leaving you with just the feelings the experience gave when the images failed to be recalled. That was the way nostalgia worked, and I wanted tonight to give old and grey-haired me of the future so much nostalgia it would last me until the very end.
Mad’s grip as he worked to prep for the first piercing was firm and sure, practiced and professional, and surprisingly not at all painful. My skin had already felt stretched tight, but somehow he managed to get a grip and place the clamp on where he wanted. My heart kicked against my chest. This was happening. Only moments away from him jamming a needle through my skin. No big deal. This was what I wanted. My eyes never left his hands as they held the clamp in place. Then, when his voice hit my ears I looked up to meet his gaze, and inhaled deeply as he instructed, like he just knew I needed it. After a couple of thudding wooshes of my pulse in my ears, I exhaled and nodded at him.- Yep. I’m ready. Do it. 
Madyx:
<I offered up a grin, his anticipation radiating off of him and smacking right into me. I loved the mutual feed I felt between us. Outside of unsavory types, I’d never tapped into anything like it, and those memories were the kind I’d rather forget.  What was happening between myself and Atticus, I wanted to hold onto with a permanent grip, superglue status. I had extra senses at my disposal, but wondered if it was at all in his bones like it was running through mine.>
Just keep taking nice slow breaths for me, Atticus.  
<I pinched the skin below the forceps then clamped the spot for the second piercing. The stage was set and it was showtime. I licked between my lips before I realized what I was doing. I couldn’t help it, even with all kinds of hardware obscuring the view, his dick was making my mouth water. The only thing that stopped me from winding down that road of fantasy was the overriding desire to make the experience everything and all about him. Vibe or not, this was about what he was going to take with him, and not in the way of body jewelry. 
I looked up again, finding the anchor of his eyes while I disinfected the needle I’d just popped out of its packaging. Without even realizing it, I noted our breaths had remained synced, and that connection ran through my veins like wildfire.
Refocusing back on the task at hand, I positioned the hollow needle and I took a steadying breath, then counted down in my head… three… two… one. I pushed the needle through his flesh, before sliding the piercing in behind it in a fluid and seamless exchange.>
One down. You’re doing stellar.
<Removing the first set of forceps. I prepped the second needle and second piercing, aware that the adrenaline rush would be on full blast for him. My extra-sensory intuition joined the party, alerting me to the fact that he wouldn’t want to be deprived of the full effect during the encore, so I’d put a little fae polish on the delivery, ensuring the pain would be as fresh as with the first.  I didn’t look up before the second jab because I couldn’t handle being derailed by his eyes, but I gave enough time for him to back out. I knew he wouldn’t.>
Keep breathing.
<Lining up number two, I made a slower push with the needle, the give of his flesh after the slight resistance a thing of decadent beauty, as was the smooth twist of the piercing into place just behind it. Removing the second clamp, I allowed time for the full relief of blood to rush back so he could ride out the sensations without distraction, before I went in for the post-piercing swab, delicately cleaning around the punctures. I removed the draping and grabbed a mirror, setting it on my knee and turning my attention back to him. Fuck, he may not have needed any improvements to his God-given cock, but damn if those two rungs didn’t just make its Adonis status more evident. So hot. I was in a world of trouble.>
How are we doing, Atticus? <I nearly dropped a hand to his thigh to soothe...but that would have been too blatant, too soon. But… I wanted to. Damn it. I really wanted to.> 
Atticus:
-I WAS NOT READY. It was too late to back out. I didn’t want to back out. His hands were on my dick, I didn’t even have time to properly enjoy that because the second pair of metal forceps were clamping more skin right below the pair he had already situated in place. It was tight and only slightly uncomfortable. A sample taste of the pain to come. I was brimming with anticipation and my heart was pounding even harder than it had been moments ago. 
Mad was there with the save, reminding me to keep breathing. I nodded my head and did as I was told, eyes never leaving his hands as they worked. And then, as he sterilized the needle, I looked up and our gazes locked for a few seconds. I hoped I was still breathing because it was really happening now, and gods I didn’t want to pass out on him. 
Holy shit, when did the time suddenly start going so fast, it had just been all flirting and fun and now it was all HERE YOU GO, ASSHOLE, THIS IS WHAT YOU ASKED FOR. 
The first needle passed through my flesh.- 
Oh my FUCKING hell. Shit bags on fire. -It was painful, not agonizingly so, but still heady and palpable in a way that felt like a rush. The adrenaline that had already been pumping through my veins during his entire set up along with my anticipation had given me a tool I could use for the next piercing. Mad was there again with his very helpful “Keep breathing.”-  
Thank you needle stabber extraordinaire for that reminder. 
-Was he going slower this time?! WTF, WHY? I almost had enough time to ask, the words died on my lips as the second needle was pushed through as steadily as the first one had. I watched in some kind of daze as he threaded the ball onto the second barbell. I didn’t remember seeing the first one being screwed into place, but then again, I had been creatively swearing my way through the pain that wasn’t really as bad as I had expected it to be. The thrill of the moment and the whole experience lingered for me before slowly beginning to recede, being replaced with a dull aching throb that promised to stay the night and well into the next few days, like an unwanted house guest. It was akin to the lingering effects of being sacked. Breaking my ankle had been a far more acute, searing pain. This I could handle.  
I exhaled hard and leaned my head back against the chair before looking over at Mad and grinning so I could answer his question.- Good. I think? -I paused to assess my faculties, and decided that I was indeed feeling pretty damn good and shit I wasn’t completely hard anymore, but still at a pretty decent semi.- Yeah. It wasn’t as bad as I was expecting, not that I’m saying it feels good like a blowjob feels good. But definitely not as bad. 
Madyx:
<I reveled in Atticus’ array of vocalizations, laughing at the creative expletives and even more for the acrimonious name-calling before piercing number two. I was honored to be a recipient of his gut reactions and comedic blame.>
I prefer Mad to “needle stabber extraordinaire” but I still wouldn’t kick you out of bed if you insisted on calling me the latter. 
<Bookending the statement with a wink, I completed my work before letting him steep in the breadth of involuntary reactions he’d earned. I couldn’t stop my thoughts from drifting the way of being buried inside of him, riding out the experience while physically connected.  The adrenaline started to wear, I could tell because his skin was less flushed with color, despite the golden tan he’d likely picked up during his travels. When he dropped his head back against the rest, I absorbed his spectrum of reflexes like a sponge, the subtle diminishment of shock giving way to evened out inhales and exhales, and the slow grin that manifested in complement to the startling blue of his eyes. Talk about piercing. Fuck. The longer I stared, the more gorgeous he got. While his dick hung out in the open air, I kept my eyes up north, memorizing the features that were partially responsible for stoking my hunger to connect. Not that I’d forget him, he was already branded on my brain in searing relief.
My grin widened at his answer, but the brows popped at the mention of a blowjob. I grunted, completely uninhibited, wanting to strike without warning and suck him down my throat, but I resisted again, looking to amp up that sexual tension. I snapped off my gloves and tossed them into the closest trash can, licking my lips for what felt like the hundredth time in his presence.>
That an invitation, Atticus? 
<I stood and braced my hands on the armrests of the chair, pressing my luck while ignoring the drop of the mirror to the floor, somehow avoiding seven years bad luck when it didn’t break.> 
Because I’d really, really like to make you feel good. 
<My voice felt thick and deep in the small gap between us. I paused, the words suspended in the silence with their suggestion, before I released my grip on the chair and stood back to full height. I thumbed in the direction of the stairway that would take us up to my loft.>
Still up for a celebratory beer? I’ve got a fully stocked bar, too, if you want something stronger to commemorate the night. 
<My eyes flicked back to his cock which I’d neglected to tell him he could put away.> They look so bad ass. I mean, your dick is a stunner on its own, but now it has the addition of hardware to entice. Flash with caution. 
Atticus:
-Invitation. Was what an invitation? Had I missed something? I thought I had been paying pretty decent attention now that he was no longer stabbing my dick with needles, but maybe my concentration was more focused on the lingering throb of my pulse at the double piercing sites. I tried to rewind my brain for a minute to find a clue, and failed. Then, when Mad said he wouldn’t kick me out of bed and followed that up with how he really wanted to make me feel good, I connected more than a couple of dots.
We were moving out of heavy flirting and right into the possibility of something more. Shiiit. Yes. Please. 
I chuckled low when I realized he was referring to my earlier talk of a blowjob. That had to be the invitation he was asking about. Did I want more than just flirting shamelessly? My dick said DUH. It had wanted more at first sight of Mad, that much was obvious. While I contemplated all the ways I could say yes without coming across as desperately eager, I faintly registered the sound of something hitting the floor though I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Mad’s to see what it was. I was stuck in this moment of possibility, I already knew I’d be tipping myself in the direction of answering all the what ifs I’d have if I declined. My head nodded before I could find my voice when he mentioned a beer. A drink sounded like a great idea, especially the thought of sharing one with him. And then after, by the sounds of it, we could be sharing a bed. I hoped. God how I hoped. 
I opened my mouth to accept his offer and then laughed loudly when he complimented my cock, he was talking about more than just the work he’d done. Fortunately, he gave me something I could focus on. I didn’t think offering a lame “thanks” would really convey the way his words twisted up my gut, not to mention the slight heat it brought to the back of my neck, my palm itched to rub at it, but I resisted. Displaying embarrassment at a compliment wasn’t what I wanted to do, not after I’d managed to survive the whole hard dick show and tell from only ten? fifteen? minutes ago. 
Besides, how did one even reply to having their junk being called a stunner. I had zero clue. I felt so far out of practice. The flashing I could work with, however. After taking a moment to angle my dick to get a better view of the piercings, I grinned over at him and swung my legs over the side of the chair, and stood up. Tucking myself back into my jeans was a slower than normal process out of fear of doing something to bring on a sudden jolt of holy-shit-how-could-I-forget-I-was-just-pierced pain, fastening the buttons of my fly was handled with more confidence. I even managed to multi-task by answering his question.- 
I’m no expert, but I think your work is great. Thank you. Now, about your sage advice...since I’ve already flashed you for more than the customary quick glance, does that mean I no longer have to exercise caution with you? -My brow lifted in teasing humour before I quickly spoke again.- Wait. Maybe save your answer for when we’re having that beer you mentioned.
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smol-and-grumpy · 5 years ago
Text
Sky Full Of Stars - CH08
Sequel to Something Just Like This
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, ex mobster boss, still a little cocky, less ruthless and not at all short tempered anymore. Instead, he thinks he’s hilarious (she doesn’t agree, though). They both try to live a quiet life. And Dean hopes, very hard, that his former life won’t come knocking at their door.
Warnings: Maybe a little fluff at first but mostly angst
WC: 2361
SERIES MASTERLIST
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...FOUR YEARS LATER...
 Ella’s wandering down the backyard of the house. She’s upset, angry and super mad.
Last Summer, before her little brother was born, and mommy still had a huge belly, daddy spent the whole summer building a treehouse right by the trees down by the creek. 
When he finished, daddy and her celebrated by spending the night there, sleeping on mats and covering themselves with blankets and daddy even brought out pillows from the couch. Ella doesn’t know where daddy got the snacks and sweets from, though, but they ate until her stomach was full and it hurt a little but she didn’t tell daddy, didn’t want him to be upset, and tell mommy because daddy said we shouldn’t tell mommy that they are snacking so late and she didn’t tell. Ella’s good at keeping secrets. 
The next morning though, she woke up in her own bed. Daddy said sleeping in bed was more comfortable for his old bones. But Ella knows now that he wanted to be close to mommy in case mommy needed him during the night. Daddy was right though, waking up in her own bed surrounded by her stuffed animals was really great. They then did this more often, went out to the treehouse in the evening and every time she would fall asleep, daddy would carry her back to the house. 
Ella thinks that her daddy is a big, strong man. How else could he carry her all the way back to the house? Every time she’s with him she’d feel protected. She loves her daddy because her mommy’s always a little more strict and daddy is not, but daddy said that it was because mommy loves her and Ella knows that too, she sometimes just can’t show it when mommy upsets her.
She loves the treehouse, and spends a lot of time there. It’s also a place where Ella met her new friend. He’s not as tall as daddy, his voice not as deep but he’s friendly and he listens to her and plays with her. She can complain to him about her brother, and he would just listen.
And today, Ella needs her friend the most because mommy and daddy don’t have time for her and she stormed out with Truffles trailing behind. However, the dog got distracted and Ella knows that she’s not supposed to go anywhere on her own unless Truffles comes with her, even if it’s their own backyard, she didn’t stop. It happens often that Truffles gets distracted by something lately, but that's okay because she can talk to her friend alone without Truffles interrupting them. When Truffles would find her with her friend, he would start to fletch his teeth and growl at her friend, and as a result of that, her friend will always leave immediately. 
Ella climbs up the stairs to her treehouse. It’s not steep, daddy had made sure of it. Mainly because he wanted for Truffles to be able to go up and down with her without any problems.
She sits against the wall, hugs her knees to her chest, rests her forehead on her knees and wishes for her friend to show up. It usually always works when she thinks of him very hard and wishes for him to show up.
“How are you, little one?” The voice is familiar to her, it’s her friend. She looks to the door to see a dark haired man dressed in all black.
“‘M okay,” Ella says, and it’s a lie. Daddy told her to never lie but she just doesn’t want her friend to be worried about her. She’s upset about something stupid and it’s embarrassing if he finds out. Maybe her friend wouldn’t want to be her friend anymore if he knows.
“You sure you’re okay, love? You don’t look okay to me,” He kneels down next to her, and Ella thinks he maybe shouldn’t have done it because he’ll get his trousers all dirty. 
He always looks so put together, his clothes always neat and clean. The opposite of hers, Ella thinks. She always has holes in her pants and shirts, and they’re dirty as can be. Her parents would dress her all nice but they will all end up being dirty at the end of the day. She just loves to play outside too much.
“You know that you can tell me everything, right?” He asks, his hand tucks a loose strand of locks behind her ear.
Ella sighs, keeping her eyes to the wooden floor of the treehouse, avoiding her friend’s eyes. 
“‘M mad,” She just says. 
“Why are you mad?”
“Mommy’s nursing the stupid, stupid baby and Dad’s talking on the phone with uncle Cas and uncle Gabe. Nobody has time for me, and daddy promised to play but then uncle Cas called and he’s taking too long on the phone,”
“Awe, but I’m here now, aren’t I? You still don’t like your little brother, huh, Ella?” 
Ella shrugs, “I don’t know, he’s stupid and ugly. He can’t talk so all he does it making weird noises and he cries,”
“Yeah, that’s what babies do.”
“Do you wanna play with me?” 
Her friend places a hand on her shoulder, “Of course, what do you wanna play?”
“Hide and seek?” Ella looks at her friend now and he smiles at her. 
“Okay Ella, you count and I go hide, okay?”
Ella grins and clasps her hands over her eyes when she starts to count. 
But she didn’t even get to ten when she hears barking and her daddy calling out for her.
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  “El?” Dean runs out to the terrace and looks into the distance. Fucking hell, he’s only been on the phone for a mere fifteen minutes, slipped into his office and when he came out, Ella who was sitting on the floor assembling puzzles was gone.
He sees Truffles digging something up from the ground. 
“Ella!” 
Dean runs down the stairs, and Y/N comes out too, still with the little boy in her arms, she couldn’t find Ella inside either. 
“El!” Y/N shouts, “Ella!”
Dean takes off, towards the treehouse and Y/N follows, but she’s not fast with a baby clutched to her chest.
If Ella’s gone, it’s on him. It’s all on fucking him. He promised her he would play with her. That was until Cas called who was already having a phone conference with Gabe. He had to go talk in his office because Y/N isn’t supposed to know the subject matter. This whole keeping secrets thing is fucking idiotic.
“El!”
“Ella!” 
He calls out while he runs. Runs as fast as his feet would take him and then he whistles for Truffles to run ahead. 
The dog seems startled when he hears his owner whistle but then Truffles runs ahead, knows where he needs to go and exactly who they are looking for. 
Dean sees Truffles speeding up ahead, sees him climbing up the stairs to the treehouse. After a while, the dog comes down with Ella. His heart thumps hard in his chest and he runs faster, wants to reach his little girl quickly.
“El!” He shouts, and he sprints the last quarter mile and scoops her up into his arms. “Jesus, Ella-baby, you scared me!”
Dean makes her look at him, brushes his hand along her cheeks. “You okay?” He pecks her forehead, is still so out of breath himself. 
Ella nods at her dad. 
“El, you know you shouldn’t go wander around on your own. Why didn’t you take Truffles with you?” Dean’s voice is low, he tries to stay calm. There’s no need to panic because Ella wouldn’t understand the horror he went through when he noticed her gone.
“He didn’t want to follow. Found something else more interesting,” Ella says matter of factly, as if it explains everything. Dog doesn’t want to follow so I don’t wait and go on my own. Dean shoots the dog a glare, making Truffles wince. 
“Let’s go back, mommy’s already worried,” 
As if on cue, Y/N arrives, “El-baby, you shouldn’t go out without telling me,” 
“You didn’t have time for me. Both of you!” Ella accuses her parents.
“El, I’m sorry, but now we do, come on, let’s go play,” Dean begins to walk towards the house but Ella twists around in his grip.
“No! I’m playing with my friend. He’s hiding and I have to search! He’s waiting for me to find him!”
Dean stops dead in his tracks. “Your friend? What friend?”
“Yeah, I meet him here a lot,”
“Ella, do you have an imaginary friend?” Y/N smirks.
“He’s real, alright!”
“Of course he is,” Dean stomps his feel for the effect, backing Ella up. It’s the least he can do after he neglected her while he first promised that they could play and Ella laughs, it sounds good in Dean’s ear. 
“Maybe your friend’s hiding in the house, huh?” Y/N says as she walks beside Dean, little Neo is clutched to her chest, sleeping peacefully, didn’t even realize that his parents just suffered a mild heart attack. 
“No!” Ella shouts, she is still trying to get out of Dean’s arms but he’s holding her tight. 
“Ella, maybe mommy’s right, huh?” He tries to reason. 
“No!” Ella balls her fist, hits Dean, “Fergie doesn’t go in the house. He’s shy! He doesn’t want to meet other people!”
Dean stops and Y/N’s jaw drops.
“Fergie?” Dean asks, just to be fucking sure. 
“Yeah, he said it’s a nickname for Fergus.” 
“Dean, what does it mean.” Y/N frowns, is visibly upset but he looks at her and mouthes later to her and Y/N understands. By the way Y/N purses her lips though, Dean knows that he’s in trouble.
 *
 Y/N’s waiting for him on the couch when he comes down to join her after he tucked the kids in. 
She stands up as soon as she hears him, turns to face him. “You know what? I need a fucking drink!”
Walking over to the kitchen, she takes out a bottle of whiskey from the pantry where they hide their alcohol and slams the door close with a bang. Dean’s sure that the kids heard it and closes his eyes, waits for one of them to cry out but it stays silent so he exhales, releasing the breath he didn’t even know he’s been holding. 
Dean walks closer to the kitchen isle where she’s standing with his hands in his pant pockets. Apparently this is a standing argument. 
She unscrews the cap angrily, gulps down a large swig, doesn't even bother to pour it into a glass, and brushes at her lips with the back of her hand. “You wanna explain anything to me? Is Fergie who I think it is?”
“I don’t know,” Dean shrugs, and eyes the bottle, he could sure as hell use a drink himself. 
She sees his gaze, hands him the bottle and he takes it from her with a nod, downs a gulp, swallows it and takes another one, for good measure.
“Then what do you know, Dean, huh?!”
“Ella said her friend Fergie started showing up after Neo’s birth,” Dean air quotes the word friend. He tries to stay calm, but there's anger inside of him that wants to get out, too. He feels like punching something, wants to shoot at someone. He’s been told by Cas and Gabe before Ella wandered out on her own that Crowley is out for a while now, Gabe only overheard it this morning but apparently, he’s been out for almost eight fucking months already, and Dean’s mad, mad that he didn’t know, mad that he can’t fucking protect his family on his own fucking property, “Baby, I have no idea how he got past the security.”
“Security?” She gets loud.
Uh-oh.
“You’re being loud!” Dean hushes her.
“Oh, well wait,” Y/N says a little softer but then she hisses, “What fucking security?”
There’s really no way out but forward, so Dean takes another swig from the bottle, leans over the island, braces his elbow on the kitchen isle and rubs himself over his face. He takes a deep breath before he begins to tell her about what Cas told him almost five years ago. 
The expression on her face changes with the things he tells her, he can read her like a book, can see the anger, the frustration, the horror. The crease between her eyebrows deepens, and Dean wants to even them out so bad but he knows that it’s not the right move right now.
“So we have security around the house for four fucking years already?”
“They’re so good you don’t even see them, right?” Dean tries to ease the tension with a joke. It is not well received. 
Y/N just stands there and stares him down. 
Dean doesn’t know what else to say, what else he could say to calm her down when he’s not exactly calm himself either.
Their silence gets interrupted when she gets a message on her phone. She walks to the sofa where she’s left it on the coffee table. Dean watches her go, follows her after. 
She takes the phone, reads the message and it’s like he sees it in slow motion. Sees how her crease deepens even more and her mouth forms an ‘o’ before the phone slips out of her hand and drops onto the rug by the coffee table.
“Dean,” Her voice shakes,
He rushes to her, holds her to stop her from shaking, and she just keeps on repeating, “Dean, Dean,” While she stares at her phone on the rug. 
Dean leaves one hand on her to keep her from falling while he picks the phone up from the rug and stands up to wrap his arm back around her. His other hand fumbles with her phone, thumbing over the messages until he sees what she saw. 
There’s a picture of Crowley with Ella, a selfie taken in the treehouse. Both of them are smiling. There’s a caption to it, too. 
Barmaid 1 - 1 Crowley.
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CH09
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selfcareparker · 5 years ago
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Playdate [p.p]
Pairing: Peter Parker x reader
Warning: I mean it’s smut (18+), language, Sam and Bucky (you’ll see)
Summary: You show Peter a special place and make him feel special (I’ve said it before summaries are NOT my thing).
(I know Peter’s birthday is in August let’s pretend it’s earlier in the summer holidays), Reader knows about Peter being Spider-Man
Word count: 1.6k
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(x)
“Oh hey! You here to pick up Peter? You two got a playdate?“ Tony says more to Peter than to you, teasing voice. 
“We‘re both eighteen, Mr. Stark. I told you not to call it that! We‘re not babies.“ Peter practically whines and Tony ruffles his hair playfully while he looks up at you.
“Oh you’re eighteen, too?“ Tony had celebrated Peter turning the big one-eight by throwing a massive party and although Peter wasn’t the party guy Tony had managed that you‘d all had loads of fun. 
“Yeah, I‘m actually a few months older, sir.“ You answer. 
The way those words roll off your tongue - Tony can tell there’s something up with you. Maybe not right at this second, but you’re more than sassy. Into trouble. 
But the thing is you seem innocent, and Peter doesn’t see it yet. But Tony has plenty experience to recognise it already. Experience in getting into trouble that is, so he decides, he likes you. 
“We’re leaving now! Thank you for fixing the suit!“ Peter calls and pulls you out of the building before Tony has another chance to embarrass him. 
“FRIDAY tell Wilson and Barnes they have to go after the kid.“
Sam appears from behind the corner of the same room where the couch is.
“Go and look after the Spider-kid for me will you? I don’t want him getting into any trouble with that girl.“
Okay, Tony likes you. But he doesn’t want to pick up Peter from the police station at three a.m. 
“That girl? She seemed like the most innocent girl ever.“ Sam shrugs.
“I thought especially you should know that those are in fact the least innocent ones?“
“Okay that’s true but why do I have to spy on him? It‘s Friday night.“
“Steve’s going to kill me and you if the kid gets into trouble, we don’t need an Avenger in prison all over the news. Not again.“
*
“Have you ever seen anyone on a playground at night? It’s really peaceful, I come here to think.“
Peter appreciates that you’re showing him a place that you love, a place that’s special to you. It feels really intimate. 
You sit on the swings, next to each other and just talk. Talk about life and talk about how Peter‘s going to be gone for the rest of the summer holidays and you won’t see each other for weeks. Neither of you hide that you’re sad you won’t be able to hang out for more than eight weeks, he’s become one of your closest ‘friends’ in the past few weeks. 
Maybe you won’t even be able to speak to each other on the phone - time zones and all. You’re excited for him that he’ll get to visit different parts of Europe with his aunt nevertheless.
You decide to give him something to think about while he’s gone.
*
In the meantime Bucky and Sam have made themselves comfortable on a roof nearby, snacks and binoculars within reach, Tony talking to them through the headsets. 
“They’re on a fucking playground talking! Tony you said they were gonna get into trouble!“
“See, I said it was a play date!! If they don’t do anything in the next twenty minutes you can come back I guess.“ Tony speaks over the coms.
Tony does feel a little bad for not trusting you and Peter and had to get Sam and Bucky to literally spy on you..
*
“Do you wanna go on the slides?”
Peter grins at you, shooting up from the swing, he starts running and is already climbing up the treehouse where you can go down the slides. “Last one there loses!“ He shouts, laughing.
You run after him nevertheless, not keeping up at all and while he already sits up there waiting, you trip by the last step of the ladder and land right on top of Peter.
You get off at first but stay between his legs as you both start laughing hysterically, eyes watering and holding your belly from the amount of laughter that nearly hurts. 
After a few moments both your laughter dies down and you find yourself still situated between Peter‘s spread legs as he leans his head back against the bars of the children‘s treehouse constellation, gorgeous smile remaining on his face. 
You’re looking into each other’s eyes deeply as he swallows hard noticing how your stare lingers for what feels like forever; until you lean forward closing the distance, your soft lips on his as your hands immediately go roaming around his cheeks, neck, arms and the back of his head confidently. 
It’s obvious that Peter has a crush on you and while he’s not the type you’d usually go for you can’t deny he’s damn cute and you like him a lot. 
His shy, awkward nature draws you to him and you want to show him fun. 
Not change him, no - not in any way. You just want to show him different ways, introduce him to new things. Sexual things. 
This boy works so hard and always puts others - including you - before himself, he deserves at least an orgasm from you. One for today, you plan on more providing him with more orgasms in the future - if that’s what he wants. 
You lower your hands as they glide across his chest, over his hips and then his inner thighs and suddenly - oh
The heated kiss makes him all tingly anyway but as your hand goes over the waistband of his jeans his cock twitches before he’s embarrassingly hard at once.
“Uh, I, sorry!“ Peter quickly grabs his crotch because he doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, making you think you owe him something after just a kiss.
Instead, you lift his hand off and start working on his belt and he tries to get his breathing under control as your tongue pokes out to wet your lips. 
He doesn’t want you to feel forced to be doing this just because he got hard.
Though the enthusiasm you bring when nearly ripping his pants as you yank them down his thighs, only enough for his cock to spring forward - he realises he’s the only one who thinks you don‘t want this.
“Can I?“ You ask, looking up at him and you lift his shirt leaving wet kisses over his abs, your ass and thighs looking more than amazing by how you‘re positioned in front of him.
“Uh-huh, of course, just don’t expect me to... last lo-Oong!“ He moans at the last part as you take his cock between your fingers, spitting into your hand and spreading the wetness over the tip of his cock and you start jerking him off. 
“Wait we’re in public someone could walk be any moment.“ He stutters weakly and you smirk, happy that he‘s open to this, his only concern being getting caught.
“Believe me Peter we‘re alone, just relax! You have your spidey senses, don’t you?“
His senses are all dialled up to the max right now but all he can focus on is you and how your tongue is suddenly sliding around the head of his cock and he can’t help but groan.
You look up at him, cock now in your mouth and he quickly recomposes himself before he nearly cums, one hand jerking him off and the other steadying yourself by his thigh as your mouth takes as much as you can of him. 
Your mouth is making him feel things he’s never felt before and he knows he’s not far from his climax.
“I- I‘m close..“ he mutters under his breath, warning you. 
Instead of pulling your mouth off or stopping, you double up your efforts, hollowing your cheeks and squeezing his balls gently with one hand. 
When he cums a few seconds later you don’t let him spill on your face or chest, but you swallow. Swallow every ounce and Peter nearly gets hard again. 
After cleaning him up with your tongue, you pack him back into his trousers and you’re trying to catch your breath, just like Peter. 
Peter just sits there, chest heaving. He feels likes he’s turned to jelly - wants to sleep, the mind-blowing orgasm being almost too much for him. 
You look over at him and he wonders how you suddenly look shy after what you just did to him? And how he reacted?
“Can I kiss you?“ He’s confused as to why you would ask all of a sudden until he tastes himself on your tongue. He doesn’t really mind, he kind of likes it that he tastes him when he kisses you.
“Wait, do you-?“
“It’s okay Peter, I just wanted to make you feel good. Make sure you don’t forget about me when you leave me for over eight weeks...“
Suddenly Peter has no desire to go on vacation anymore, you’re all he needs. 
You slip down the slide and start bouncing in the other direction across the playground. “You coming?“
“I just did.“ Peter replies earning himself one of your laughs. He properly adjusts his dick in his pants before sliding down himself and following you into the night. 
*
“Whats going on why aren’t you saying anything?“ Tony asks Sam and Bucky through the coms.
“Oh they’re just.. playing... on the slides....“ Sam -wide-eyed- motions for Bucky that he‘s going to slit his throat if he doesn’t shut up while Bucky‘s stifling a laugh as good as he can.
“Guess I was wrong about her, she seems harmless after all..“
“Yeah, totally!“ Bucky agrees after exaggeratedly coughing. 
“You can come back then, anyway thanks for that!”
Bucky and Sam swear not to talk about this ever again.
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lovely-van · 5 years ago
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beige - van mccann
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You know you're beautiful But that ain't half the gold treasure in your soul that you got 'Cause I want it all With your fingers in my mouth, I fail to see your faults So please don't let me fall So please don't let me fall...  
- Beige by Yoke Lore
word count: 12k+ (yes i know but i’m not sorry)
notes: oh my god okay i love this story so much. based on a request where you and van are friends that fall in love but both don’t think the other feels the same way. not based technically on the song beige by yoke lore but i really love the song and it’s very cute and the meaning behind it is fucking amazing (definitely look it up on genius.com). anyway i really hope you like it and lmk what you think! enjoy :))
• • •
You met Van when you were nine. 
Of course, back then, he still went by Ryan. 
He was kicking a football around in his front lawn, right across the street from your own house. You were on the sidewalk in front of your house, scribbling designs on the concrete with chalk when you noticed him. 
You’d only moved in a few weeks earlier and hadn’t realized that you had a neighbor your own age. You giggled as he nearly tripped over the ball, trying to do some fancy trick. He huffed, trying to do the trick again and failing. “You’re not very good at that, y’know.”
His head shot up at the sound of your voice, looking around in confusion. His eyes locked on you and he shrugged. “I’m trying to learn!” he shouted from across the street.  
You stood up, wiping some chalk dust from your overalls and skipped across the street. “Here, it’s not that hard. I’ll help you.” He watched, his young face concentrated, as you showed him how to bounce the ball back and forth on your knees.
After a few minutes of trying it himself, he did it successfully. A grin spread across his face, cheeks flushed and dimples showing. “Wow, thanks,” he said. “My name’s Ryan. What’s yours?”
That was how it all started. 
You and Van soon became best friends. You spent everyday together, exploring your neighborhood, climbing trees, coming up with all kinds of games that stretched every part of your imagination. He attended a different school, public versus your private school that your mother insisted you go to. But you didn’t mind because as soon as he got home, he’d come running to your front door and knock on it, waiting there with the same cheesy grin every time. 
You made other friends throughout the years, some girls from school and he had friends from his own class but you were always each other’s closest friends. In the summer, you’d grab sleeping bags and flashlights and lay under the stars in his backyard. You’d talk for hours about what you wanted to be when you were older, how you couldn’t wait until you were big enough to drive a car or have your own house. 
You were eleven when you realized how special Van was. 
It was a sunny afternoon on a Saturday and you and Van were climbing trees in his backyard. It was late autumn, so the air was crisp and all the leaves had fully changed colors, ready to shrivel up and float down to the grass below at any moment. 
“Alright, just grab that branch right there,” he said, pointing to a tree branch a few inches above you. He was already much higher than you and guiding you to get to where he was. You dug your feet into the branch you were standing on to make sure it was sturdy, and you reached up, fingers just grasping the bark-
And then you were falling, falling and before you could even comprehend it, you hit the ground. You landed directly on your right leg and you screamed, the pain overwhelming you immediately.  
Van flew down the tree, jumping the last few feet. “Oh my God, are you okay?”
You shook your head quickly, biting your lip as hard as you could to try and hold back the tears that were stinging your eyes. 
“Okay, don’t worry I’m gonna go get someone. It’s gonna be okay,” he said quickly, rubbing your back and then sprinting toward his house.
Turns out you’d broken your leg in two places. You had to wear a cast for at least six weeks and you were extremely bummed that you couldn’t play the rest of your fall football season. You and Van were even on the same team, always carpooling to games together and messing around during tournaments. 
The day after you got your cast, you heard a knock on your bedroom door. You were lying in bed reading a book, feeling sorry for yourself when you saw Van peep his head in. “Hi,” he said with a small smile. 
“Oh, hi. What are you doing here? Don’t you have practice?” you asked as he sat down on the bed next to you. 
He shrugged. “I quit.”
“You quit? Why?” 
“I didn’t want to play without you.” 
You were thirteen when you shared your first kiss. 
You were both in your old treehouse, watching the sunset through the window. 
“Van?” you repeated, pondering it. He nodded, leaning his head back on the wood, a dreamy smile on his face. “How come?”
“Ryan’s so boring. I wanna be like Van Morrison, a rockstar and all that. So, Van, which is short for Evan - it totally works.” 
You nodded, your lips curling up into a smile. The sky was turning a purple-orange hazy color, your absolute favorite. You loved sunsets more than just about anything. If you were doing homework or watching TV or something, Van would toss rocks at your window, just like in the movies, to make sure you didn’t miss it. You’d always go outside and watch the sunset with him, usually from your backyard or even his roof if you were feeling brave enough.  
“Yeah, I like it. Very cool.” It fit the aesthetic that Van had been shaping for himself recently. Since becoming an official teenager, Van had taken it upon himself to descend fully into his ‘angsty’ phase. Well, as angsty as someone with the happy go-lucky demeanor that he held could be. 
He started wearing all black and jumpers with rips in them and buying only vinyls. He’d drag you to the local record store, sifting through them for hours and buying whatever he could with the money he’d earned from cutting lawns. You didn’t mind, though You loved the relaxed aura of the store, the faint noise of whatever Mr. Brown, the owner, was currently listening to in the background. You’d flip through records, listening to Van babble on about whatever new band he’d taken a liking to, fingers running over the worn cases. It was therapeutic, almost. 
“D’you think it’s weird that neither of us has had our first kiss yet?” He asked, turning and looking at you, eyebrows furrowed. 
You leaned forward, resting your crossed arms on your knees. “Um, I dunno. I hadn’t really thought about it. Do you think it’s weird?” 
Van shrugged, carving something into the wood floor with the pocketknife his father had given him for his last birthday. “Well, Joey and Simon both had theirs last year. And Henry Williams has kissed like, three girls. I feel like we’re the only ones who haven’t done it.”
His gaze was trained on whatever design he was making, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. You scanned over his face, the freckles dusting his cheeks, the scar in his eyebrow he’d gotten from a football match last year that was finally healing. He glanced up after a moment and locked eyes with you, waiting for your response. 
“I mean, I guess,” you replied. “A few of my friends have had theirs too, but they all had boyfriends. I don’t like any boys at my school,” you said, shaking your head, cringing at the thought. 
“Yeah, me either.”
“You don’t like any boys at your school?” you teased. 
Van laughed, kicking your foot lightly with his. “C’mon, you know what I mean. I don’t really like any girls right now and I feel lame without kissing anyone.” You paused, waiting to see what he was getting at it. “Sooo,” he said dramatically, dropping his pocket knife on the wood floor and mirroring your position, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his forearms on them. “Why don’t we just kiss?”
You wrinkled your nose. “What? Gross.”
He rolled his eyes, scooting closer to you so your knees were touching. “C’mon, let’s just do it to get it over with. We’re best friends so it doesn’t really matter.” His lips were curled up at the ends, hair wild as usual and you actually debated it. He was your best friend after all, and you figured it would be better than kissing some random boy during a game of spin the bottle or something. You were going to be in year nine soon, for God’s sake. 
“Okay, fine. But promise not to let things get weird between us after?” He nodded quickly, reaching his pinkie finger out.
“Promise,” he said, curling your finger around his. 
“Alright, then. What do we do?”
He shifted so he was cross legged and you did the same, both of your bare knees pressed up against each other. The sun was just barely above the horizon, only visible to you in the reflection of his eyes. “Uh... I think we just do it,” he said, not sounding too convincing. 
You swallowed as he wet his lips and leaned in, only a few inches away from you. You could see every detail of his face, every little scratch and imperfection of teenage skin. For the first time, you realized maybe he was kind of cute, like your mother always said. “It’s those little dimples he has,�� she always said with a wide smile. This was coming from the woman who was convinced that you two would fall in love and get married someday. Yeah, right. 
He stared back at you, blinking slowly and licked his lips again. You would’ve felt uncomfortable normally, if it had been anyone else this close to you but, well, it was Van. 
“Close your eyes,” he whispered, his breath fanning across your lips. 
You took one last look at him and shut your eyes, your stomach doing jumps like you were about to board a roller coaster. He cleared his throat and you felt him shift and then his lips were on yours. He just kind of kept them there, neither of you moving, unsure of what to do. It felt weird and different and you were a little surprised at how soft his lips were. Did everyone’s feel like this? This is what people in movies feel like when they have their big first kiss, right as the music swells? It didn’t seem right. 
After a few seconds, you both pulled away and opened your eyes, blinking the blurriness away. You looked at the sharpness of his nose and the curl of his eyelashes and realized he still looked like the same old Van to you. 
“Huh,” he said after a moment, scooching back to his original spot against the wall of the treehouse. By now, his face was bathed in deep red shadows that were sure to turn to blue any moment once the stubborn sun descended past the tree line. 
“Huh,” you repeated, bringing your fingers to your mouth, running them over your bottom lip. “That was...”
“Weird?” he finished.
You shrugged. “No, just like, kind of boring, I guess. I don’t really get the big deal.” 
Van scratched the back of his neck, eyebrows furrowed. “Maybe we did it wrong?”
You laughed softly at first and then started laughed even harder, stuck in a fit of giggles. “What?” he asked with a grin, which just made you laugh harder. He started laughing with you, warm and loud, just like always. You howled with laughter, both nearly rolling around on the floor of the treehouse. You laughed for so long that by the time you were done, you forgot why you started in the first place. 
Age fourteen came with the band. 
You weren’t really sure how it started or why even, but suddenly Van was playing with one of his friend’s older brothers in their basement. He invited you to come along most times, rambling on about how excited he was about a new song they were learning or how good he was getting with guitar. 
You’d taught him to play originally, lending him the few notes your dad had taught you when you were small. He was entranced immediately, making you guide his fingers to every note you knew on the guitar that he’d saved up for for a year. And then he ran with it, learning every variation of every chord possible and spending nearly every waking minute playing in the basement of the B&B - much to his parents dismay. They scolded him and told him it was driving customers away which is probably how he ended up jamming with Billy, slowly learning a few of The Strokes’ easier songs. 
You loved tagging along to watch him play, even though all he and Billy did was strum on their guitars and sing in the basement that had really, really shitty acoustics. You knew Van was a good singer - he always had been, even though he was in the midst of puberty and was experiencing the dreaded voice cracks and hormones that came along with it. And he absolutely loved music. Listening to him sing was your favorite part of the day. You’d lean back on the couch, listening to the way his accent slipped away a little as he sang, stumbling over words and combining bits and pieces of various songs together. You knew music and you knew that he was good. 
“You’ve got quite beautiful eyes, y’know,” Van said one night, hours after his voice had given out from singing the same song over and over again in Billy’s basement. 
You elbowed Van in the ribs, nearly knocking him over. “Shut up, would ya? Brown eyes are ugly and you know it.”
You stared up at the sky, entranced by the constellations and bright stars that were out. You were both sitting cross-legged on the grass in a field a few minutes outside of your neighborhood, far enough that the lights from the houses couldn’t reach it. 
“No, ‘m telling you, yours are all big and soft and… warm, like honey.” You turned to look at him slowly, at the crooked grin on his face. You rolled your eyes, turning your gaze back on the stars. You wondered how they all fit up there in that big sky. It didn’t even seem possible, like they could fall out of it at any second and come crashing down to Earth. 
“Says the one with blue eyes. I’ve always wanted blue eyes,” you said with a dreamy sigh.
Van shook his head and laughed softly, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. 
You looked at him, blinking, and joined in laughing with him. “What?” you asked in between giggles. 
Van shrugged, only laughing harder, which made you laugh harder, too.
“I think… I think I’m just high,” Van said with a wide smile on his face. You nodded, tilting your head back and laughing again, the air visible from your mouth in the cold.
“Me too,” You said after a moment with a giggle. “Guess it worked?”
You and Van started smoking fairly regularly after that, usually leeching off of Billy or trading him with stolen cigarettes that your father rolled himself. You’d usually settle for Billy’s basement, passing around a joint or a bowl and listening as they played the songs that Van had slowly started writing, your brain fuzzy and soaking in every bit of it. 
Age sixteen came with first loves. 
“Mate, you know Abby Newman?” Billy asked one night, smacking Van on the chest lightly. He blinked, eyes half shut and red around the edges. 
“Hm, she’s a year ‘bove me, I think, so year younger than you, yeah?”
Billy smirked, taking a long hit of the joint in his hands. “Heard that she fancies you.” 
You snorted and Van shot you a dirty look, shoving you lightly. “Fuck off, would ya?” he said with a laugh, then turned back to Billy. “Abby Newman, huh?”
This is what kickstarted Van’s girl crazed phase. Through his delightful charm (or so he said), he managed to score a date with Abby. Within a few weeks, they were real-life boyfriend and girlfriend, holding hands at the diner you always went to, Abby finding a spot on Billy’s couch to listen to them practice, Van telling you about how they’d gone to second base - gross. 
At first, you were a little annoyed with Abby, her extra fragrant floral perfume and thick eyeliner being just a bit much but you learned to like her. Just as you were starting to consider her one of your own close friends, she and Van broke up. He wrote a sad song about her of course, actually probably 20 songs, but within a few weeks, he had a new girl in his lyrics. 
He never dated girls for longer than a month, if that, and you were never really sure why they broke up but it made for good song content, Van pouring his emotions out into his at first cheesy but then actually decent songs. 
While Van was experiencing the whirlwind that was adolescent females, you were finding your own first love in Matt. 
Matt was a year above you, seventeen and had this smile that dove you nuts. You’d go to his football games, cheering him on from the stands, Van usually by your side scribbling in his notebook or underneath the bleachers smoking a cigarette. 
You adored Matt. He was just so cool, always working on this old car that he already knew how to drive even though he didn’t even have his license yet, and giving you mix CDs with sappy love songs that you’d fall asleep listening to every night. 
Van wasn’t a huge fan of him but you figured he was just being his usual over protective self. You forced him to put on a smile and play nice, which he did for the most part. 
Matt bought you popcorn and paid for your movie tickets, held your hand tightly during the scary parts, took you to the beach when it got a little warmer, gave you goodnight kisses at your door that left you dizzy. 
You were sixteen and in love. Or you thought you were, at least. 
“Van,” you whispered into the phone, hand covering your mouth as you walked down the street on shaky legs. 
“Hey, what is it, love? You okay?” he answered quickly, voice thick from smoking or drinking. It was the night of your school’s formal and although he didn’t attend it, Van was probably winding down from the afterparty that one of your classmates had thrown - the party you should’ve just gone to after the dance. 
Instead, you were walking down a road you didn’t even recognize, in the dress you’d been dreaming about wearing for months, tears streaming down your face. 
“Yeah, I-” your voice cracked and you let out a sob. You crouched down in the street, head on your knees and cried, snot dripping from your nose. 
“Love,” Van whispered, his heart breaking for you. “Where are you?” 
You ended up in Van’s bed, curled up under his covers, wearing a pair of his joggers and your favorite sweatshirt that you always tried to steal from him. He placed a cup of tea down for you on his bedside table with just a bit of milk, exactly how you liked it, and sat on the edge of the bed. “You wanna talk about it?” he asked softly. 
You wiped some tears with the sleeve of his sweatshirt and took a shaky breath. “Um... I guess.” He reached out and grabbed your hand, the familiar feeling of his calloused fingers against yours relaxing you a little. “So basically... Matt and I had been planning on, um, having sex for the first time tonight, after the dance. Cliche, I know,” you sniffled, glancing you at Van. You’d expected him to shake his head or at least give you a disappointed look but his soft expression hadn’t changed. “And well, his parents were gone for the weekend... so we went to his house after the dance. And we were, like kissing and stuff and I realized that I just wasn’t ready, y’know? Like I just didn’t wanna do it then. So I told him that and he got really mad, telling me that he’d been waiting for this for months and how could I just decide all of the sudden I didn’t want to?” 
Van’s hand tightened around yours and you glanced up to see his jaw clenched. You took another shaky breath. “So... then I felt really bad and ended up just doing it.” Vans eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. 
“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” he muttered, shaking his head. 
You dropped your chin to your chest, closing your eyes. “There’s more,” you whispered. “After we were done, he, um, broke up with me and basically said he was just waiting for this so he could finally dump me.” Van pulled his hand away from you and you glanced up to see him pacing around his room. 
“Oh my god,” he mumbled to himself. “Oh my fucking God. What a piece of shit. Who the fuck does he think he is, doing that to you? To you of all people?” he voice cracked at the end of the sentence and he paused, running a hand down his face. “I’m gonna fucking murder him,” he said, reaching for his boots by the door. 
“Van, stop. Please,” you whispered, pulling your knees tighter to your chest. He paused immediately and looked down at you, face softening slightly. 
“But he can’t fucking do that. Do you know how messed up that is? I literally wanna go rip his fucking head off,” he hissed. You shook your head and when he saw your lip tremble, he dropped his boot and sat down on the bed next to you carefully. “Oh, Y/N,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around you. 
You bit your lip and leaned on his chest, a sob escaping your mouth when he pulled you close to him. You cried, full on, a waterfall of tears into his chest as he stroked your hair and rubbed your back gently, keeping you tucked into him. He shushed you softly, almost rocking you like a baby as you cried and cried on him.
After you had no tears left in you, you sniffled and cleared your throat. You were both lying down now, both of Vans arms around your waist and your head in his chest, arm across his stomach. “Uh, sorry about that,” you said with a soft laugh. 
He stroked his thumb across your arm. “Don’t ever apologize for that, yeah? I’m here for you, always. If you need to cry on me, I’ll gladly wipe your tears away,” he murmured in your ear. “But I still wanna fuckin’ kill him.”
You chuckled, burying your head into his chest. “I know. But please don’t, I don’t want you going to jail on my behalf.”
“I’ll do it. I’d do anything for you,” he whispered. You closed your eyes, breathing him in. He smelled a little different than usual, his cologne and cigarette smoke mixed with alcohol and weed from the party. But it comforted you nonetheless, because it was Van. “I love you,” he said, dropping a kiss on your forehead. 
“Love you too,” you replied softly, falling asleep as you thanked God for giving you Van as a best friend. 
You were seventeen when you started to get jealous. 
It was well known by you and your friends that Van was, well, a ladies man. He dated a lot of girls. He was always loyal to them of course, he’d never cheat, but his relationships were always short-lived and dramatic. He still paid more attention to you than any of his girlfriends, but one night when you texted him to come watch a movie, you were disappointed by his response.
To: vannn
heyyy come watch 500 days of summer w me plz i need a rom com and snuggles
To: my bestest friend
sorry love i got a date w sophie tonight her parents are gone for the weekend ;) tomorrow? xx
You looked at your phone for a moment, color rushing to your cheeks as you snapped it shut. It’s not like this was anything new - Van hadn’t done anything wrong, he was just spending time with his girlfriend. But it bothered you for some reason.  
The next day, when Van did actually come over to watch a movie as promised, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes when he started talking about Sophie. 
“Yeah, I dunno she’s nice and dead cute, honestly, but she is a little insane,” he said, shoving a handful of popcorn in his mouth. 
Your skin was probably green with envy when he mentioned something about her being good in bed. “Van, I don’t wanna hear that,” you replied, tossing a piece of popcorn at him. 
He turned his head and stuck his bottom lip out in a pout, looking at you with raised eyebrows. “Aw, someone a little jealous that I’m spending time with another girl?” he teased, eating the popcorn that had landed in his lap. 
You scoffed, shaking your head. “No.” 
Van chuckled and leaned toward you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. “It’s okay, babe, you’ll always be my number one.” 
You were eighteen when you realized you were in love with him. 
It was your birthday and you were at a small pub watching him perform. You were leaning against the back wall, a beer in your hand as you watched. Van and Billy had found a bassist a while back and recently had even found a decent drummer. And they were good. 
You smiled as he thrashed around on stage, nearly knocking his microphone over and putting on a hell of a good show for the small crowd of people. They’d grown a bit of a following over the years and you could tell something big was coming for them soon. 
“I just wanna give a shout to someone very special to me.” You looked up at Van who was staring right back at you, a huge grin spread across his face as he spoke into the microphone at the finality of their last song. “This girl’s been there for me since the beginning, through all my shit. She’s the best friend I could ever ask for and I dunno what I did to deserve her. So happy birthday, Y/N. And thanks for everything.” 
Color sprung to your cheeks as everyone turned and looked at you, clapping and shouting happy birthday wishes. One of Van’s guy friends who you’d gotten to know pretty well, elbowed you in the side and shot you a wide smile. “Didn’t know it was your birthday. How old are you, then?”
But you didn’t respond because you hadn’t even picked up on what he was saying. You were still staring at Van, watching as he started packing things up on stage. 
Everything around you went quiet. You watched as he tilted his head back and laughed loudly at something Bob said and it sounded like goddamn angels singing to you. 
Holy shit. I’m in love with him, you thought. I’m fucking in love with him. How did I not realize this earlier?
It was like everything else in the background faded to black and white but he was in color, his blue eyes shining brightly as he approached you, brown hair darkened with sweat. He said something to you and you had to blink a few times, bringing your focus back.
“Sorry, what?” 
He laughed, shaking his head at you. “I asked if you wanted to get out of here, go for a drive, or somethin’. I gotta give you your birthday present,” he said with a mischievous smile. 
So there you were in the passenger seat of his dad’s car, windows rolled down, arm hanging out and cutting through the wind as you drove over a bridge, music blaring, and fuck, you were in love with Van. 
The lights from the city were bright and shining in the rear view mirror as the two of you sped away, leaving everything behind you. You stuck your head out of the window, feeling the wind on your face, a little buzzed from the beer you had been drinking earlier and a little high from the joint you’d smoked a few minutes prior and you threw your head back and whooped, unable to hold in your joy. 
Van was looking over at you, one hand on the steering wheel and a wide smile on his face. “What?” he questioned you with a laugh. 
You shook your head, unable to explain how you were feeling at that moment. You felt so full and warm and just downright fucking happy. Happier than you’d felt in a while. “I’m just… happy,” you said back, sticking your arm back out the window and letting your hair whip around in the wind. 
Van laughed, rolling his own window down and screaming along to the music with you.
He pulled over eventually, onto a side road in the middle of nowhere but left the car running. He turned the music down a little and cleared his throat. You watched as he rubbed his hands down his jeans, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile. “What’s up?” you asked, rolling the window up and tilting your head towards him. “Ooh, do I get my present now?”
A laugh escaped him as he nodded. “Yeah, guess so. Or I could make you wait even longer.” 
You frowned, crossing your arms dramatically. “But Vaaan,” you whined, “it’s almost midnight. Then my birthday’s gonna be over.” 
His eyes shone in the darkness of the car, the moonlight washing over his features gently. “Alright, alright, quit your whining. Give me a second.” Van slipped out of the car and went around to the trunk and came back with a small box wrapped in newspaper. He held it in his hands for a moment as he sat in the driver’s seat, the windows around you fogging up just a bit from your breath. 
You waited patiently, heart beating a little faster. He licked his lips before he spoke, turning his head to look at you. “So I’ve been, uh… pretty bummed lately because you’re leaving soon. I was trying to think of a way to convince you to stay here with me and just become a roadie or something but I realized that there was no way I’d let you do that,” he said with a soft laugh. “You’re so fucking smart and I just… I know you’re gonna do big things at Oxford and after, too. It sucks that we’re gonna be apart but I’m hoping I can come visit.” He looked at you expectantly, eyes wide as if you were going to object to this. 
You nodded quickly. “Of course, yeah.” 
He smiled and looked out the window for a second, turning the present around in his hands. “Good, yeah. God, this is fucking awful,” he said after a moment, eyes going to his lap. “‘M gonna miss you so much. I mean… my best friend isn’t gonna be 10 steps from my front door anymore.” You bit your lip hard, blinking fast. You weren’t one to cry over just anything but you could feel tears stinging your eyes. And you weren’t ready to leave Van in a few days at all.
You’d applied to Oxford on a whim, fully expecting to end up at one of the smaller universities near your hometown that would be within driving distance so you could still live at home.
When you got your acceptance letter, you were shocked. Van hadn’t been surprised at all, saying he knew all along that you’d get in. It took you up until the last day possible to make the decision. Ultimately, you knew you’d hate yourself if you didn’t pick Oxford. And Van would probably resent you for life if you stayed living at home. Plus, he’d dropped out of school a while ago anyway and who knew what he’d be doing once Catfish got signed. 
He laughed softly, clearing his throat. “But anyway, I’m so happy for ya. I’m not happy about us being three and a half hours away from each other... but I’ll live. And I guess I should finally give this to you, yeah?”
He handed the present over across the console, your fingers brushing as you took it from him. “I can see you wrapped it yourself,” you said with a chuckle, inspecting the newspaper. 
Van rolled his eyes playfully. “Alright, shut up and open it.”
You tore the paper carefully, holding your breath as you pulled the paper back to reveal a small box. You lifted the top off and peered inside to see a CD case. You pulled it out and examined the front to see a handwritten tracklist - Van’s messy script, specifically, but there were no artists listed. “Oh, you made me a mix?” you asked softly, beaming at him. 
He shook his head slightly. “Well, not exactly. Um, they’re all my songs.” You gasped, looking back at the tracks. 
“That’s amazing,” you murmured. 
“And uh, well, they’re all songs about you.” You paused, making sure you heard him correctly, and turned back to look at him. He was staring right back at you, bottom lip tugged between his teeth.
“Songs about me?” you whispered. “I didn’t know you wrote about me.”
He laughed softly, pointing at the top of the list of songs. “Of course I do. How could I not? They’re kind of… in chronological order too, like from when I first met you to now.” You pulled the CD case to your chest, leaning over and wrapping your free arm around Van’s neck. 
“Oh my God, thank you,” you mumbled as he tucked his arm around your waist, his chin on top of your head. 
“There’s more, y’know,” he said as you pulled away, pointing at the box. You lifted some tissue paper to reveal a thick stack of notebook paper that was folded together carefully in a square. When you pulled it out, something fell out of the paper. 
“Shit,” you muttered as you lifted your legs off the seat, trying to find it. You switched a light on inside the car and spread your fingers across the fabric of the seat until you felt something cold. You grabbed it carefully, placing it in your palm and you gasped upon realization. “Van,” you whispered. 
It was his father’s necklace, the one he’d worn ever since you were both small. He’d started wearing it when he was only about seven or eight, he told you. You’d never seen him without it. 
You looked over at him and sure enough, the small chain that usually adorned his neck was gone. He licked his lips, eyes scanning your face. “I… I can’t take this from you,” you said, reaching for his hand to give the necklace back to him. 
He held his hands up in defense and shook his head. “I want you to have it. So you don’t forget about me,” he said quietly. 
Your chest tightened. Forget about Van? That would be impossible. You’d spent your life watching him grow up, been there for each other through every heartbreak, every family problem, every low moment. You were in love with him, for God’s sake. How could you not be? He was the funniest, most thoughtful, kindest person you’d ever met. And he thought you’d forget about him?
“I could never forget about you,” you whispered, voice cracking. Your eyes started watering again and you looked at your lap, turning over the delicate gold chain in your hands. 
“Let me put it on you.” You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat as you handed it to him carefully and turned to face your window. He leaned over the console and brushed your hair to the side, his hands against your neck eliciting goosebumps from your skin. He unclasped it and wrapped it around your neck slowly, his fingertips nearly leaving burn marks wherever they touched. He ran a hand down your hair, smoothing it carefully and hovering there for a moment before leaning back in his seat. “Looks better on you,” he said with a small smile.
The feeling in the pit of your stomach had not dissipated. You felt incredibly nervous but also still at ease and you were trying to figure out how that was even possible. But it was because you were alone in a car in the middle of nowhere with Van, your best friend of almost a decade who you were also utterly in love with, staring at him with only the soft hum of The Shins in the background. “Also, that’s um, a letter I wrote you,” he said softly, looking at the folded up paper in your hands. You started to unfold the paper until he interrupted you. “No, no, could you just wait to read it? Like, until you get to Oxford?”
You felt dizzy at this point, only moments away from having to press your forehead against the car window and catch your breath. What was in the letter?
“Uh, yeah, sure,” you whispered, tucking the note into the pocket of your jacket. “Van, I… thank you so much. You don’t know how much all of this means to me,” you said. He was pleased by your reaction, a small smile stuck on his lips as he stared at you. 
“Of course. You deserve it,” Van responded softly. “Come ‘ere.”
You leaned forward again and wrapped both of your arms around his middle tightly, tucking your head into his chest. He slid both his arms around your neck, one going to the back of your head and holding you tightly. You sat there like that for a while, feeling how warm he was against you, breathing in his scent that never seemed to change, the cologne he’d stolen from his father when he was younger with the addition of cigarette smoke in the last couple of years. He felt so solid and safe and at that moment, you realized that leaving for Oxford was probably going to be the hardest thing you’d done so far in your life. Van stroked your hair gently, holding you so tight to him, not caring about the awkward position you were in over the center console or that The Shins CD was starting over for the third time. 
You pulled away after a few minutes, forehead pressed to his. It was so dark you couldn’t see anything but the lightness of his eyes. I’m in love with you, you wanted to say. I’m so fucking in love with you it hurts. I want to wake up to you in my bed every morning and I want to dance around the kitchen with you in the middle of the night and I want to have babies with you and grow old together. 
You couldn’t bring yourself to say any of these things. You were leaving in less than a week and then you’d be across the country from him. You didn’t want to risk losing him or fucking things up before you left. You’d just realized how you felt about him and you were pretty sure that he didn’t feel the same way about you but you’d rather just live not knowing for sure - it was less painful that way. You wanted to remember him exactly this way - warm and happy and just Van. 
“I love you,” you whispered, “and I’m gonna miss you so fucking much. But you’ll always be my best friend, y’know?” 
It was near the end of your first term when Van finally came to visit you. 
It was a Friday afternoon and you had your nose in a book, studying for an exam you had coming up when your phone rang. 
You flipped it open and grinned. “Van!” you yelled excitedly, slamming your book shut and jumping out of your desk chair. 
He chuckled through the phone at your excitement. “Hi, love. I think I’m here but ‘m not quite sure where to go, honestly. Can ya come find me?”
There he was, a backpack slung over one shoulder, sunglasses on his face, wearing a huge smile. You sprinted toward him and nearly knocked him over with a hug, wrapping your arms around him tightly. 
“Hi,” you said when you pulled away, beaming. 
“Hi,” he replied, giving you that infamous crooked grin. 
“So this is my friend Hallie’s room and my other friend Olivia’s room is right there and, oh that’s Charlie’s at the end of the hall,” you said, speeding down the hallway, Van trailing behind you. He seemed to be in awe of everything, mouth hung open and staring at every room you passed. “And this is my room.” You shut the door behind you and leaned against the wall, watching as he inspected the small room. “Like it?” you asked nervously.
He turned and looked at you, a smile spread across his face. “This is amazing,” he said. “This whole place is so fuckin’ cool and all of your pictures in here and your records, wow,” he murmured, scanning over the hundreds of pictures you’d taped to your walls. Of course, he was in most of them. You beamed at him, plopping down on your bed as he looked out your window, admiring the view of the city outside. 
“So did ya miss me?” he asked, sitting down next to you, bumping your shoulder with his. 
“No, I’ve been just great without you,” you said with a laugh. “Yes, of course I missed you! It’s been, like…”
“Three months?” he finished for you. 
You sighed, scanning over his face. It had been only three months but it felt like so much longer. He looked older to you, his hair a little longer and some stubble growing in. His eyes still had the same twinkle and you couldn’t help but lean forward and hug him again tightly. 
“Three months too long,” you mumbled into his chest as he chuckled, hugging you back and rubbing his hand down your back.
“I know, darlin’. But what do you have planned for me this weekend? Gotta get the whole university experience, yeah?”
Naturally, you took him to a party later that night. It wasn’t overly huge or anything, just a casual thing that your friend Hallie’s older sister was throwing at her house a few blocks away from where you lived. 
Van was thriving in the party atmosphere, of course. Girls were eyeing him up left and right, offering him drinks and touching his shoulder. He was eating it up, not used to so much attention. He was telling a group of people about the band and how they’d recently won a music competition and they were all close to drooling. 
“Your boyfriend’s so cool,” someone next to you said. You turned and looked, seeing it was a girl who lived down the hall from you but whose name you could never remember. Van looked at you through the crowd of people, shooting you a wink as you shook your head and laughed at him. 
“I know right?” you replied, not even bothering to correct her. 
“I love college. I love it!” Van shouted to no one in particular a few hours later as the two of you stumbled down the street, his arm slung around your shoulder and yours around his waist. 
You giggled, holding him tightly to make sure you didn’t trip over anything. “Van, be quiet,” you shushed as you guided him up the stairs and down the hall to your room. You rolled your eyes, laughing as he said ‘hello’ to a few people in your hall and pushed him into your room. He collapsed on your bed, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. “I’m serious. I love this place. I could never leave,” he said, eyes wide. 
You sat down on the edge of the bed next to him, patting his chest. “I know. I love it, too.” 
Soon you were curled up in your tiny bed, limbs tangled together and fighting over blankets like you were sixteen again. His arm was around you, thumb stroking over your shoulder. “So you got a boyfriend?” he asked teasingly. 
“Ha no, no time for that yet. I’ve been so busy with school I can’t even think about finding a boyfriend,” you replied with a laugh. “What about you? How’s the girl situation?”
Van shrugged gently. “Eh, dunno. I’ve been seeing this girl Lily for a bit but I don’t really think it’ll go anywhere. She’s a bit full on.”
You’d become pretty good at hiding your jealousy, pushing it down inside of you and putting on a smile. You knew that his relationships never lasted and you really had no right to be jealous anyway but the thought of him doing anything with another girl made you sick to your stomach. 
You chatted for a while, voices hushed and words getting more drawn out until you could tell he was asleep. You laid there, head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat and listening to him breathe and you were just so fucking thankful that he was real and he was alive and here in your room. 
As you laid pressed up against him, not ready to fall asleep just yet, you thought of the letter he’d written you before you left for school. 
It took you until your third night at Oxford to read it, as you’d been so busy with unpacking and making new friends you didn’t have time. 
You’d flipped the lamp on next to your bed and unfolded the paper carefully. You read it slowly, taking in every word, every metaphor, every long description and then read it again. He really did have a way with words. You cried, of course, because it was fucking beautiful. He wrote about what your friendship meant to him and how he was so thankful he’d gotten to watch you grow over the years into the person you were now. He mentioned little details about you that you’d never even noticed and wrote about some of the bigger things you’d experienced together and what it was like from his perspective. 
The final paragraph is what really sent you over the edge. 
And now, you’re going off to do such fucking wonderful things. I can’t believe I’ve been lucky enough to know you. Just the other day I was talking to Larry about you, and how I was going to miss you and everything and he said to me “Mate, she’s special. People like that don’t come around in life twice.” And he was right. I might end up traveling around the world with the band, visiting different countries and meeting thousands of people. But none of them will compare to you. To your heart, your kindness, your passion to change the world. So I guess, I just want to thank you for being you and thank God for putting you in my life. I don’t know what I did to deserve you. 
You’re the best friend I ever could’ve asked for. I love you and I always will. 
Love, Van xx
You were twenty when you met Ethan. 
It was the beginning of your third year at Oxford and he was in your Calculus class. He introduced himself on the first day and whispered jokes to you about the lecturer throughout the whole class, making you burst out laughing at one point and get scolded by the girl sitting next to you. 
He followed you out of the lecture hall, asking you to coffee right away. While you were drinking coffee, he asked you to come to a party with him later that night. At the party, he asked you to dinner the next night. 
Within weeks you were inseparable. Ethan was witty and bright and kept you on your toes at all times. You studied together almost every night and it especially helped that he was a genius when it came to math. 
“So you’re just using Green’s Theorem to set up a double integral to find the area of this region,” he’d say. 
“I have to use whose what to find where?” 
He’d roll his eyes and laugh, then explain the whole thing to you again. 
You went to parties together and out to clubs sometimes, spending all night laughing and dancing together. You called your mother, giddy about your new romance and you could tell she was uncertain about Ethan. “Sweetie, are you sure about him? I mean he sounds nice and all, but… what about a certain someone back home?” 
You’d never officially told your mother about your secret love for Van but of course she knew. Ever since you were little, she constantly told you that you and Van would be perfect together and would end up married with kids someday. And when she started to pick up on your real feelings for him, that maybe you did want to be more than friends, you could tell your mother really, really wanted something to finally happen between you and Van. “Mum,” you’d scolded her over the phone, “you need to drop that, okay? I like Ethan. He’s gonna be good for me.”
When first term was over, Ethan invited you to come to his family’s house for the holidays and spend Christmas with him. You declined politely, as you hadn’t seen your parents in ages and desperately wanted to go home for a bit, enjoy the cold weather from the comfort of your childhood home. In the last few weeks, Ethan had become a little full on, as well, so you were glad to get some space from him. And maybe there were other reasons, too. 
As you rode the train home, looking out at the snow falling through the frozen window, you thought about Van. 
You hadn’t seen him in months. Catfish had recently gotten signed and they were busy recording their first EP so you rarely saw him last summer before you had to return to Oxford. You talked on the phone occasionally, but you were both so busy that you had little time to call each other. 
And fuck, did you miss him. 
Your heart ached for him when you arrived home, his house looking the exact same. You pictured him running across the street to beg you to come play hide and seek in the woods nearby or to convince you to go swimming in the lake a few blocks away. When your parents took you out to dinner, all you could see was him. Him sitting at the booth you always used to share when you had late night munchies, him waiting for the bus down the road before school, him knocking over that stop sign when he was first learning to drive. 
You thought about calling him but every time you clicked on his contact name, you couldn’t bring yourself to go through with it. What if things had changed between you? What if he was too busy with the band? 
You’d been home for three days when you heard a noise at your window. You paused, trying to figure out if you imagined it and shrugged, turning back to the book you were reading. After a moment, you heard the noise again. You folded over the corner of the page you were on and set the book down on your bedside table. You shuffled over to your window and jumped when you heard the tap again, then pulled your shades back. Through the frost, you could make out the figure of a person on the ground below. You carefully slid the window open and stuck your head out, rubbing your arms from the cold. 
“Hey!” 
It was Van, throwing rocks at your window, a smile on his face, just like when you were young.
Your heart swelled. “You wanna let me in? It’s cold as fuck out here!”
Van rubbed his hands together and blew on them, trying to warm himself up as you set a cup of tea next to him on your nightstand. “Thanks, love,” he said with a warm smile. 
“So how’ve you been? Can’t believe you guys finally have a record deal and everything. I mean you’ve been working for this for so long,” you said, pulling a blanket over both of you.
“Fuck, I know right? It’s been insane, just absolutely mad. I mean to hear my own songs actually recorded, not just on the shitty mic I have in my room? It’s fucking amazing,” Van replied, shaking his head in amazement. 
He shot into stories about their manager and the stress over which songs would go on the B side and you could tell he fucking loved it. His eyes were shining so bright, hands waving around as he spoke, a wide smile never leaving his face. Van was absolutely in love - in love with music and his band, and you realized you were in love, too. 
But not with music - you were in love with him still. 
“You glad to be home? It’s not quite as exciting as Oxford, eh?” he asked, taking a sip of his tea. 
You laughed softly, shrugging. “Maybe not as exciting but I like coming back here, especially since it’s almost Christmas. I love seeing mum and dad and it makes me… nostalgic you know. Reminds me of being little and running around with you,” you said, bumping his shoulder with yours. 
He nodded in agreement, lips curling up in a smile. “Can you believe we’re twenty now? Christ, I feel so fucking old,” he said with a laugh. 
“Oh, I know right. I feel like school is just flying by and I dunno, I have no fucking clue what I want to do when it’s over,” you replied, sighing. 
“You’ll figure it out. You always do. You’re dead smart and so passionate about so many things that I can’t imagine you’ll have any trouble finding a job after you graduate,” Van said softly. 
You looked over at him, biting your lip and wanting to cry a little. He always knew what to say. You’d been so stressed over the last year about your grades and about potentially going to medical school but you weren’t even sure if you wanted to, that Van saying this made you feel infinitely better. 
“Thanks, Van. I’ve missed you so much, y’know.”
He wrapped an arm around you, bringing you close to him and dropping a kiss on your forehead. “I missed you, too, love. It’s been hard without you.” 
You took a little satisfaction in knowing that he missed you as much as you missed him. You had your doubts of course, him being a big rock star now and you feared that maybe things had changed since you’d last seen him. 
“I was worried you’d forget about me,” you said softly, looking up at him. He blinked a few times, eyebrows furrowed. 
He shook his head and whispered, “I could never forget about you.” His flickered down to your neck and the gold chain you hadn’t taken off in years. 
You bit your lip, unable to contain the smile on your face. 
“You wanna go for a walk?” he asked after a moment. 
So though it was freezing and flurries were coming down, you found yourself walking the same streets you’d biked around on when you were young. 
You had your face buried in a scarf, hands shoved in your pockets because of course you’d forgotten your mittens, as you walked down the street with Van. 
It was dark out now, so the sky was hazy and everything was quiet from the snow. You were shivering and looked over at Van to see if he was the same, but he looked fine, no scarf, no mittens, no hat and just a light jacket on. “Aren’t you cold?” you asked, teeth chattering. 
He turned and looked at you with an eyebrow raised. “Not really. You?” You turned off the road you’d been walking on and wordlessly entered a park that you’d played at countless times. Visions of young Van sliding down the slide or swinging as high as he could flashed through your head. 
You nodded quickly, pulling your hands out of your pockets to rub them together. Van led you to a bench and sat. “Here,” he said, reaching out for your hands. You sat next to him, pressed up against each other, and he took your hands in his much larger ones, rubbing some warmth into them. He brought your hands to his mouth, blowing hot air on them. Your heart started to race and you felt like a teenager again. 
“Better?” he asked, pulling your hands away from his mouth but not letting go, resting them on his lap. 
You nodded, lips curled up in a smile. The tip of his nose was a little red and he looked adorable. 
“So your mum told me the other day that you’ve got a new boyfriend.” Oh, fuck. Since being home and especially being with Van, you’d kind of forgotten about Ethan. 
“Oh, yeah, Ethan. We’ve been together for just a couple months,” you said with a small smile. Van nodded but didn’t return your smile, turning and looking across the park, snowflakes falling and nestling onto his hair. He looked older, circles visible under his eyes probably from long nights spent perfecting songs and early mornings at the recording studio. You were positive he’d grown since you last saw him - he’d seemed like a giant when you’d been walking together. “But I dunno, I don’t really know if he’s the one, y’know?” 
When Van turned back to you, he looked nine years old again. Small and vulnerable and clueless about the world. 
He looked down at his lap, at your intertwined fingers, and licked his lips before his eyes flicked back up to yours. “Y/N… Can I tell you something?”
Your breath hitched in your throat before you nodded slowly. Van cleared his throat and turned your hand over, running his thumb along all the lines. He scratched your palm gently, just like he knew you liked, before intertwining your fingers again. “Uh, wow, I have no idea where to even start. I’ve had this planned in my head for fucking years and now it’s real and I… I don’t even know what to say,” he muttered, eyes wide as they stared into yours. 
“What do you mean?”
He laughed softly, his thumb stroking over the back of your hand. He brought your hand up to his mouth again and kissed your knuckles gently. 
“I’m in love with you.” Your ears were ringing and you blinked slowly, wanting to pinch yourself in the leg to make sure you weren’t dreaming. “I’m so fucking in love with you. And I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to say it because God, I’ve known it since I was fifteen and you fell asleep on my shoulder in Bobby’s basement one time but I was always too scared to tell you. Scared because I knew you didn’t feel the same way and I was worried you’d get weird around me which is fucking dumb because, well, you’re you and you’re the best person I know so it would’ve been fine,” he said with a soft laugh. “I wanted to tell you before you went off to Oxford, too, but I knew it was a bad idea because we were gonna be so far apart and I didn’t want it to ruin our friendship or anything, y’know? But now I hear that you have a boyfriend and I probably shouldn’t even be telling you because that’s kind of a shitty thing to do, but I dunno. I couldn’t keep it in anymore,” he finished, shrugging like he’d just said something completely minuscule to you. 
He reached up and rubbed his thumb under your eye and you didn’t even realize you’d started crying. 
Van was in love with you. He was in love with you and had been for years. All those years that you thought he didn’t feel the same, that he was just a really good friend. After you’d read his letter when you first started at Oxford, feeling a little crushed that he hadn’t confessed his love for you, you were positive that you’d never be more than friends. 
Van, your best friend of eleven years, the boy who’d grown into a man in front of your very eyes, was in love with you too. 
You couldn’t believe it. 
“Oh my God,” you mumbled. “Oh my God. This is real?” He nodded, his face full of confusion. 
You’d spent years dreaming of this. Lying on your bed at Oxford, staring at the ceiling, willing there to be some way the universe could work its magic and make Van love you back. Apparently, the universe listens. 
“Van... I’m in love with you, too.” He sighed gently, eyes locked on yours. “I have been forever. And I didn’t wanna tell you either because I thought you didn’t feel the same way,” you said with a small laugh of disbelief. “Fuck, I can’t believe this is actually happening. I spent so much time wishing you’d feel the same way as me but I honestly thought you never would. And God, I wanted to tell you so bad but I was just so scared. You’re really in love with me?” you whispered, biting your lip. 
He nodded, bringing his finger to your chin and tilting your face to look up at him. You could see every detail of his face in the soft lighting, the freckles that dusted across his nose, the ever so faint scar from that football match so long ago, the curl of his eyelashes. You thought of when you were thirteen and you had stared at him before having your first ever kiss, how much he looked like that young boy right now.
“Of course I’m in love with you. It’s always been you,” he whispered, his thumb stroking across your cheek. Your heart was beating so fast you were worried it would pop out of your chest. 
You sighed softly, scanning over Van’s face, the snowflakes that had accumulated on his hair, the sparkle in his eyes, the redness of his cheeks. He was in love with you. 
“Think we can try that whole kissing thing again?” he asked after a moment, with a small smile. “Might be better now than it was when we were kids.” 
You laughed, nodding as he leaned forward and rested his forehead on yours. You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close to you to make sure he was real and that this was actually happening. 
“I love you,” Van whispered, his breath ghosting across your lips, the edges of his eyes crinkled because of how hard he was smiling. 
And yeah, it was safe to say this kiss was better than the one you’d shared at age thirteen. 
You were twenty four when you got married. 
It was a nice autumn day, a slight chill in the air but the sun was still shining bright. 
As you waited for your cue to walk down the aisle, your heart beating faster than you knew possible, you thought of the last time you’d seen Van. It was yesterday morning, when you woke up to him pressing soft kisses on your cheeks, your nose, your forehead. 
“Van, what are you doing?” you’d groaned, not wanting to wake up. 
He scattered a few more kisses down your face and then giggled - giggled - against your neck as he brought his fingers to your sides, tickling you gently. “Van!” you squealed, opening your eyes to see him hovering above you with that crooked grin. 
“I needed to wake you up,” he said. 
You looked up at him, blinking the blurriness away, at his messy hair and sleepy eyes. It had to have been early still, dawn lighting streaming in through your window onto his face. “Why?” you asked with another groan. 
“Because I looove you and we have so much shit going on today and then we don’t get to be together tonight so I wanna enjoy the time we have this morning,” he replied softly. 
You brought your hand up to his cheek, stroking your thumb across a dimple and pulled his mouth to yours. He smiled even wider into the kiss, morning breath and teeth clinking together and all. 
You loved Van a little extra in the mornings. He was even more affectionate than usual, running his hands over every part of your body, wanting to be the little spoon, begging you to stay in bed for just a little longer. 
He snuggled on top of you, arms around your waist and head nuzzled into your neck as you scratched his scalp gently. “We’re getting married tomorrow,” he mumbled. 
You sighed softly, lips curling up in a smile. “I know. God, I’m so excited.” 
He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead on yours. You couldn’t see anything but the lightness of his eyes. “Me too,” he whispered. “Been waiting for this for a long fuckin’ time.” He kissed you gently, then rested his head on your chest, your hands going back up to tangle through his hair. 
“I love you.” 
“I love you, so fucking much.” 
As you rounded the corner, you took one last deep breath and looked up. Everyone was standing, staring at you with wide smiles and hands pressed to their hearts. The music was playing softly in the background, white twinkling lights everywhere, the flowers absolutely perfect. You were thankful your father was leading you, his arm tightly around yours because otherwise, you probably would have stopped dead in your tracks while walking down the aisle when you saw Van. 
He was waiting at the altar, looking fucking amazing in his black suit, and he was crying. Tears were streaming down his face and his hand was covering his mouth as he shook his head in awe. 
Your dad kissed your cheek and whispered that he loved you and took his seat next to your mum in the crowd.
When you reached Van, you grabbed his hands tightly, grinning at him as his eyes looked you up and down and then straight into your own eyes. His face was wet with tears and his lip was nearly bleeding from biting it so hard. 
“Hi,” you whispered, tears stinging at your own eyes. 
He laughed softly, shaking his head again in disbelief. “Hi. God, you look fucking beautiful.” 
You were twenty seven when you had your first child. 
You’d woken up in the middle of the night, eyes widening immediately as you shook Van awake. He had just gotten back from a short tour the night before, and he’d been absolutely exhausted. But he knew you were due soon and there was no way he was missing the birth of his first kid. 
“Hm?” he mumbled, not waking up. 
“Van,” you hissed, shaking his shoulder again. “It’s happening.” 
He opened his eyes and blinked, looking up at you. You nodded quickly, trying hard not to freak out too much. “Oh my God,” he said, shooting up and stumbling out of bed to find the bag you’d packed a while ago. “Oh my God, fuck, oh my God.”
The whole drive to the hospital, Van checked in on you constantly, making sure you weren’t in too much pain, driving as fast as possible, squeezing your hand tight. He had a playlist on his phone for this very moment - because honestly, he had a playlist for everything - and he put it on, trying to keep you relaxed as it played softly in the background. “We’re gonna have a fucking baby,” he muttered, glancing over at you in the passenger seat and laughing softly. “Christ.” You laughed too and then started to cry of course, because your hormones were a fucking disaster. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay, love. You can do this, yeah? Never been anything you can’t do.”
“She’s fucking beautiful,” Van whispered, tears running down his face as you laid in the hospital bed together later, both of you holding your new baby girl. You were exhausted and in a lot of pain, your face sticky with sweat but you didn’t care. You nodded, resting your head on Van’s shoulder as you started crying with him. “Looks just like you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 
“We’re parents, Van,” you said after a moment. “Holy fuck, are we ready for this?”
Van snorted, shrugging gently. “Probably not but we’ll figure it out, yeah? We always figure it out.” You sighed happily, leaning up and pressing a kiss on his lips. 
“God, I love you,” you whispered, dropping your head back to his shoulder. “Now, what are we gonna name her?”
You were thirty-three when you realized your mother had been right all along. 
It was a cold, snowy day in the middle of December. You were cozy in bed, still half asleep, Van’s arm tight around you as you laid on his chest, blankets pulled up over you. 
You were about to fall fully back asleep when you heard your door swing open. You heard some whispering and soft giggles and suddenly, you and Van were being attacked. 
“Wake up, wake up, wake up!” Van groaned loudly as you opened your eyes, seeing your two children jumping up and down on your bed. They giggled, launching themselves on top of you and hugging you. “Wake up, please!” they begged, Mary sitting on Van’s chest and Leo bouncing up and down on top of you. 
You rubbed your eyes, laughing softly at them. “What are you two doing?” you groaned, pulling Leo down into a hug. 
Leo laughed as he hugged you back, burying his face in your neck. “We wanna go play in the snow, please, please?” he begged in his small voice. 
Van mumbled something incoherent as Mary poked his cheek. “Daddy, wake up,” she said with a giggle. You glanced over to see Van with his arms covering his face, clearly not ready to be awake. 
“I don’t think Daddy is ready to wake up,” you said with a laugh, reaching up to press a kiss to Leo’s nose. Leo squirmed off of you and joined in the assault on Van, pulling his hands off his face and pressing his forehead to Van’s. 
“Daddy, pleeease,” he whined, giggling. Van groaned loudly again, before opening his eyes and immediately wrapping his arms around Mary and Leo, pulling them both onto his chest. 
“You’re killing me,” he mumbled, voice scratchy. “Daddy needs to sleep.” 
You laughed, squeezing up tight to your family and resting your head on Van’s shoulder. “Daddy does need his sleep. Especially after last night,” you said with a smirk. Van chuckled as Mary started tugging on his hair and Leo wiggled to get out of his grip. 
“Where do you think you’re going?” Van started to tickle both of them, making them scream with laughter as they squirmed around your bed, limbs flying everywhere as they tried to escape him. 
“Okay, okay, we’ll have breakfast and then we can go outside. You can go watch some TV while I get your Daddy up,” you said with a laugh as Mary and Leo jumped off the bed, racing into the living room. 
Van chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you onto his chest. “They’re mad,” he said, shaking his head.
“They are, yeah,” you replied with a soft laugh. “But I love ‘em.”
“Love ‘em to pieces.” Van ran his hand down your arm slowly, before reaching his hand down to your jaw and tilting your face up to look at him. His eyes were sleepy still, his hair a mess. “And I love you, Mrs. McCann,” he whispered. 
You smiled back up at him, feeling giddy as ever as he leaned down and kissed you slowly, smiling against your lips. You pulled away after a moment and stared into his eyes, wondering how the hell you got this lucky. “I love you more.” 
Turns out your mother was right all along about the whole marrying Van and having babies with him. 
You never would’ve imagined this at nine when you met him for the first time or at thirteen when you had your first kiss or even when you were eighteen and you realized you were in love with him. It seemed too good to be true.
But it was real. Van was real and you loved him more and more every day, still asking yourself how someone as perfect as him could exist. Van, who had become the best father in the world, crying to you at night sometimes because he loved his children so much and was worried about what the world would do to them. Van, who dedicated every album to you and had to call you every night while he was on tour because he couldn’t sleep without hearing your voice. Van, who made sure to send you flowers at work once a month, who you got to spend the rest of your life with, who left a note on your bedside table with a different reason why he loved you every single morning. 
And God, did you love him too.  
• • •  
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gdotsand · 4 years ago
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The Fastest Way Back Home - Prologue
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Pairing - Bucky Barnes x Reader (Post Infinity War) 
Summary - A collection of memories sprinkled along the road to regain what she lost. 
Word Count -1,400 (ish) 
Playlist Link - Link (will be updated as more chapters are added) 
Warnings - Sadness. Angst. Bad jokes regarding muffins. 
A/N -  I really wanted my first published Bucky series to be happy, I really did. I fought my brain so hard but this was the first work in progress it allowed me to finish for him. I’m sorry in advance? I honestly get physical chest pains from writing this story because it also makes me sad but I will promise you happy endings and it wont (hopefully) all make you wanna curl into a ball and listen to sad songs. Likes, reblogs and feedback is always appreciated. Also big shoutout to Lara (it wont let me tag you), thank you for encouraging me to post this finally and listen to my ramblings. You’re the real MVP. Thank you - G.Sand 
Present 
He'd always said that the water calmed him, the darkness lapping against the small dock. One of the main reasons he'd thrust a pros and cons list into her hand the night after viewing the house. Top of the list, the water.
There were many other things on the list, a tree that seemed like it had grown specifically for a treehouse to be constructed against the thick branches.
A living room big enough if they pushed back the furniture he would be able to twirl her around barefoot as the record player in the corner softly played old country vinyls her grandfather left her when he passed.
A wrap around porch, sure it needed some work, some of the slats have fallen though, but he promised to replace them, whitewash them and share lazy Sunday afternoons drinking fresh lemonade and watching the sun disappear beyond the horizon.
It felt like a life time ago, sometimes, most of the time it felt like a fever dream. Calloused fingers against her jaw line, the slipping of a golden band onto her finger, her doing the same for him. Bright smiles and her mother softly wiping the tears from her cheeks. Promises of forever and always, promises of a future beyond the hurt and loss that lingered deep within his bones.
Promises of all perfect and beautiful things that would now never come true. Promises of a life away from bloodshed and fear. Away from anger and torment. Everything turned to dust that day, breathy whispers at some ungodly hour, promises, commands, vows, everything including the man she loved turned to dust, and she had no idea.
Sometimes she could pretend, pretend he was on a regular mission, or he'd gone out to a meeting or to the store. Because he was ever present in her home, their home.  The photos that adorn the walls, his jacket is still on the hook by the door, weapons safe still locked. It can only be opened by a retinal scan that now didn't exist in the world. Tony he said he can override it, find a way to disable his own systems but she declined. What was the point anymore? What was the point in anything anymore?
So she looks out at the water. Watches as the sun starts to set, another day has been added to the tally marks somewhere etched into the walls of her brain. Filed away, so she wouldn't be able to recall an exact number if asked, but still enough to keep a permanent hole in her chest since that day. Its been almost five years, and Betsy is bordering on her birthday, and she wants, she prays that she can believe that Betsy is a happy child but it always feels like something is missing. Its in the depths of her eyes, in the dark curls that sit on top of her head a question that will forever go unanswered, at least not completely. Because no sweetheart your daddy isn't coming home and no bugs he was never home to begin with. Not really, not with both of his girls. So she take things day by day and who can blame her? Honestly what else do people expect. Not that theres many people left to judge her that is. So to hell with it.
If he was here, he'd tell her to buck up. She knows that, but even Tony dare not make that joke. He'd tell her that everything happens for a reason and that everything will work out in the end. But thats Bucky all over, and Bucky isn't here.
The light shifts into something reminiscent of artwork purple and oranges splayed across the horizon, and a smooth pebble is thrown into the icy darkness, it skips across the water at speed and disturbs the darkness, but eventually like everything else the ripples dissipate into nothingness again.
"See kiddo, it's all in the wrist" Tony says, and Betsy listens, she idolises her uncle Tony more than he can know however it's not lost on anyone else. Eager to please Betsy takes the second stone from his outstretched palm, skims it across the surface of the water and it bounces once, twice, three times before eventually sinks, and Betsy squeals as she hoisted into the air in celebration. Y/n could listen to the sound of her laugh till her dying day and never get bored of hearing that little girl enjoy the freedom of happiness, but y/n? She allows herself a smile and turns back to the water, because you know, it always said it calmed him.
Steve approaches slowly behind, careful not to make her jump in the process, spends a good minute or two just watching her. She's never been the same since the snap, okay, no one has been the same since the snap but out of everyone, he thinks that maybe y/n had it the worst. And sure he may be being an overdramatic asshole as Buck might have said once upon a time but Buck's not here to reprimand him. Even if he can hear his taunt somewhere far away, carried on the winds that come from wherever he is.
"He was right you know"
Steve hums at her as a response, an explanation waiting on the other-side of her tongue that for some reason needs to know that Steve is listening before y/n continues.
"It's pretty fucking calming when you think about it"
He hums again, but it's more of an amused tone.
"I came to talk to you specifically before we do this" he says, always a man to get right to the point is Steve Rogers, there is no proverbial bush and he'll be damned if he beats around it.
"Well I assumed you didn't come here just for my muffins Steve"
"You're a married woman can we not talk about your muffins"
"Ah, no one is talking about my muffins these days" and then earns her a chuckle at least. She's always had a way with words like that, always been the one to crack the jokes. First to make light of a situation that really doesn't need it.
"We can get him back, well" he swallows but continues "we can get all of them back, but we're going to bring him back y/n"  
Y/N rolls her eyes and takes a couple of steps off the dock towards the house, "Don't make promises that you can't cash Rogers i'm not in the mood" she throws over her shoulder. It only takes half as many steps for Steve to catch up and stop her with a hand on her shoulder. There are already tears in her eyes, and it's a knee jerk reaction. Because she remembers the day that Steve had made that promise to her before, years ago.
5 Years Ago 
The house was too quiet, the kind of quiet that strikes fear like a match in the pit of your stomach. The hollow feeling that just something, somewhere isn’t right. There are no books to read, no work to be done, no shows to watch and no mindless task that she can do that will keep her brain from thinking the inevitable. It’s always the case yet it never gets any easier.
Washing done, book shelves back into the correct organisation system. Dinner being planned in her subconscious because she has to keep that hope, that preyer that there will be dinner. There will be another set of feet under the table, a light too minimal conversation to be had and a head on the pillow next to hers at the end of the day.
But then there’s gravel crunching under tires, there’s one, two, three car doors being slammed and three pairs of out of sync footsteps growing closer to the front door. Three sets of footsteps isn’t good. She knows this. She knows as she crosses to the front door, pulls it open and meets the eyes of his best friend. Although she had known that at some point, this day might come, it makes the horror no less scary. It doesn’t make the gravel any less sharp on her knees as her breaths come quicker and Steve arms aren’t quick enough to react. To catch her before she falls.
She can see it reflected in the gaze of Nat that he’s not coming home, that something terrible, something unimaginable has happened.
Steve swallows around the lump in his throat that he prayed wouldn’t be there by the time he got out of the car.
“We’ll get him back Y\N. We’re going to bring him back”
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ashes-and-ashes · 5 years ago
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Regulus paces up and down, the leaves of the tree casting gnarled shadows on the rocky ground. He stares up at it, long branches reaching up to the sky. There’s a bit of rope hanging off one of the branches, the fibers long worn down by the elements; if he squints he can almost make out the carvings on the bark, etched by bored boys on summer days.
They had always talked about building a treehouse, using the wooden planks from the shed and the greenhouse, talked about hauling blankets and pillows up and sleeping under the stars. They had even started it, the summer between Sirius’ first and second year, before the screaming got louder and the beatings got harder.
Regulus shoves his hands in his pocket. He glances around, praying that no one was watching him. He didn’t know what would happen if he was caught.
With a sigh, Regulus checks his pocket watch. He clicks the lid shut, turns away -
“Guess you have some balls after all.”
Regulus knows who it is without turning. He closes his eyes at the sharp tone, the bitter acerbic tang that coloured the words, takes a deep breath in and holds it.
“Si.”
“I mean,” Sirus says, talking over him, “I never really pegged you for the sentimental type but damn. The site of our failed treehouse? That hurts.”
People used to say they looked alike, him and Sirius. The same dark hair, pale skin, high cheekbones and mocking cast of their lips. Twins, people would murmur. You two are like twins.
Regulus studies his older brother. He’s changed - they both had, the war leeching all the softness our of them. Sirius looks drained; his hair had grown longer, almost past his shoulders, hollows under his eyes and carving out his cheeks. He’s thinner too and Regulus can see the bones sticking out, more pronounced under the layers of skin.
He swallows, hard, that lump that always came whenever he saw his brother forming, the tightness in his chest to the point of pain. Regulus looses a shaking breath before turning to look his brother right in the eyes. “Look. I need to tell you something.”
“Are you getting married?” Sirius asks dryly. “Congratulations. Make sure it’s a girl or they’ll disown you.”
“It’s not - “
“Or,” Sirius says. Regulus flinches - his voice is full with that cruel viciousness, stripping him down and cutting him to the bone. “Or I know. Voldemort’s letting you into the Inner Circle! I mean, you already have the Mark. Why not keep going? Move up the ranks like the good little death eater you are?”
“Stop,” Regulus whispers. His voice sounds thin even to his own ears and Sirius lets out a mocking laugh.
“Am I hurting you, Reg? Going to run to Mother? Go on! Maybe she’ll carve another set of lines into my back.”
Regulus remembers that night - Sirius’ limp figure curled up on the floor, his body covered in lashes. Regulus, on his knees, trying to stop the bleeding, the bone, trying to block those horrible noises from digging into his brain.
“I had nothing to do with that,” Regulus breathes. “You know that.”
“And what did you do to stop it?”
“I let you go.”
“Oh yes.” Sirius laughs, mocking and sardonic. “You let me go. You let me run from the people who were literally killing me. How lucky. I should be thanking you.”
“You,” Regulus says slowly, “Have no idea what I’ve done for you.”
“More then shielding you from Mother? More then letting her carve scars into my back?” Sirius’ face twists. “You know, for 1 week after I couldn’t fucking walk, Reg. Crucio just overloaded my nerves - I was bedridden. I was lying in James’ spare bed for 1 whole week, unable to move because of what she did to me, and you have the nerve to say you’ve done anything for me?”
“And look at you now,” Regulus says coldly. “You’re out. You’re free. You have Remus. I’m still here.”
“We’re both fighting, Reg.”
“You should have stayed away,” Regulus says, his voice cracking apart. He feels like he’s drowning in all the secrets, the lies forcing their way inside his head. “Why did you - you were free! You were safe!”
“Because unlike you, I fight for what I believe in.”
“If you think I support him, you’re an idiot.”
Sirius smirks. “Careful Reg. Wouldn’t want to get killed for being a goddamn fucking traitor now, would you?”
“Please,” Regulus says. “Just listen to me.”
Sirius cocks his head. His arms are folded across his chest; the light glints off the band of metal around his ring finger.
“Remus,” Sirius says, nothing Regulus’ state. “A promise. Not that you care.”
Regulus shakes his head. “You can’t kill him. The Dark Lord. He’s not human.”
“Well.” Sirius rolls his eyes. “Thanks for confirming that. Why don’t I just relay the message that Voldemort happens to me a chipmunk - “
“You idiot,” Regulus hisses. “You utter imbecile.”
“Ooh, now he’s insulting me.”
“You can’t kill him! He won’t die!”
Sirius pushes off the tree, eyes blazing. He holds his hand out, face furious. “Well we’ll all fucking die then because I guess he’s invincible!”
“No,” Regulus says. “I have an idea.”
He can see it, that brief flash of hope in Sirus’ eyes. He’s seen it so many times before; every time they stood on the platform and watched the train come in, every time they ran up the stairs as Walburga lay drunk in the living room. He’s seen it the night Sirius left, as he lay bleeding on the carpet, one hand griping Regulus’. Please, you need to let me leave. Please.
“What is it?”
“I - “ Regulus starts, then hisses. Around his wrist he can feel something burning, a molten chain of burning fire. “I took an Unbreakable. I can’t.”
“Great plan.”
“Please.” Regulus closes his eyes. “Trust me.”
There’s a silence. Regulus thinks back - how many lies had he told his brother over he years? Theirs was a relationship built off of deception, each of them trunks to undermine each other in that desperate game of chess.
But he’s never lied to Sirius before, not outright.
Finally, Sirius nods. “What do you need me to do?”
“Don’t,” Regulus says. “Hold off on everything. Your whole plan. It won’t work. Don’t start the Keepers yet.”
Sirius meets his eyes. “How long?”
“Give me 2 weeks.”
Sirius nods. He pushes off the tree, his eyes locked on Regulus. “Please,” he whispers. “Keep them safe.”
“And what?” Regulus breathes. “If it comes down to Lily and James or Remus?”
Sirius’ eyes shutter. He opens his mouth - to say something, Regulus doesn’t know, opens it then closes it. Expressions pass over his face - guilt, rage, sorrow.
“Do what you have to do,” he finally says. “And don’t let me know.”
“Why?”
“Because. Nothing would stop me from burning the world down otherwise.”
Regulus nods. He clenches his fish in a ball, lets the nails pierce into his skin, tries to shake off the feeling that he’d never see his brother again.
“I’ll contact you in 2 weeks,” he says.
Sirius smiles, that rare one, the one that lit up his entire face and made him look innocent again.
“I’ll be waiting.”
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13-reasons-ideas · 5 years ago
Text
Marry Me
A/N: I decided to take a stab at doing a songfic. It is MontyxOC and I hope you guy’s like it. I based it off of Thomas Rhett’s Marry Me. This part is from the bride’s perspective. For this part, I recommend listening to the bride’s perspective linked below. There will be another part from Monty’s perspective coming soon. This is a long one. I hope you like it as much as I do. As always, much love. Word Count: 7963
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xqxEYUcW-cU
My fiancé, Evan, and I finally made it to San Fran International Airport, after a long day of traveling from Atlanta. I managed to get some more wedding planning done on the plane from Dallas. My parents were throwing us a second engagement party at home, so we made the trip out early on after he popped the question. Once we had left baggage claim with our bags, I led him through the airport to pickups.
He insisted on holding the bags while I looked for Scott. My parents weren’t able to get off work, so he had kindly offered to pick us up in San Francisco. I searched the crowd and spotted him standing off to the side, near a vending machine. “Scott!” I called as I waved and broke into a run towards him. He caught me in his arms and twirled me around.
“There she is.” He muttered into my hair as he put me down. I felt Evan put his hand on my back and I leaned into him. “You must be the one who stole her heart. I’m Scott.” He said, sticking his hand out.
“Evan.” He replied, shaking his hand firmly.
“So, let’s see the ring.” I smiled brightly at him and showed him my round two carat pave ring. He whistled when he saw it. “That’s nice. It suits you. Did she pick it?”
“No, I looked at her Pinterest.”
“Smart man.” Scott said as he picked up my bag and walked us out to the car, Evan’s hand firmly in mine the whole time.
On the way back into town, Scott shared stories of all the trouble I used to get my friends in and out of in high school. “There was this one time none of us had studied for a midterm coming up and so Ellie here called us all over to her place, and sat us down with colour coded notes, charts, the whole thing and spent the whole weekend tutoring us.”
“Only because you all had to pass that exam to stay on the team.” I interjected.
“El, it’s not like they would have kicked the whole team off the team. We were all pretty antsy by the end of the weekend.”
“But they could have cancelled the rest of your season. How happy would you have been then, hmmm?”
“Fine, fine. You win. But what about that time Monty and Bryce decided to climb in that old treehouse in Bryce’s backyard and you had to call the fire department?”
“You mean the time they almost fell out a tree? Yeah, I remember that. I also remember not speaking to either of them for like three days afterwards.”
“Oh, don’t think I forgot that detail. Monty wouldn’t shut up about it until you finally talked to him again.”
“Not my fault genius one and genius two climbed into a treehouse they hadn’t been in since they were like eighty pounds lighter. Bryce cried, Scott.”
“You didn’t talk to them because they went in a treehouse?” Evan asked.
“No babe. I didn’t talk to them because they got stuck in a treehouse. And I couldn’t climb up there to save their genius butts because any more weight would have sent the whole thing tumbling to the ground. And then Coach would have had my ass for breaking them.”
“I’m guessing there was alcohol involved in these shenanigans?”
“Oh yes.” Scott laughed, “they were drunk off their asses. Monty hugged one of the firefighters.”
“Ellie mentioned something about him not being a hugger.”
“He isn’t. Took him like 4 years to hug me. And I’m his best friend. We had food poisoning together when we were younger, and he still wouldn’t do it.” I shuddered at the memory.
“Lovely.”
“Yeah, but anywho. They barely made it into the pool house before they passed out.”
“We don’t call her Mom for nothing.”
“Okay designated Dad friend.”
“At least when we hung out after homecoming we didn’t-” Scott started. My eyes widened. Are you serious Scott?!
“Trip and fall flat on our faces in front of the whole school?” I cut him off quickly.
He gave me a weird look in the rear view. Thankfully, Evan was looking out the window as we were getting closer to town. I gave him a what the fuck look back. “Uh, yeah. That was pretty funny actually. Matt and Garrison were so excited we won that they tripped over their own feet and faceplanted.”
Evan didn’t appear to be listening anymore. Scott drove the rest of the way and when we got into town, I texted Monty. Hey you. I just got into town with Evan for the weekend. Are you free tonight?
He texted me back a few minutes later, yeah I’m free. What’s up?
“Don’t worry about showing him the noteworthy spots. We are going to look around after church on Sunday.” I mentioned to Scott, not looking up from my phone. I replied to Montgomery swiftly, drinks or coffee? Just you and me. My parents are going over some details for tomorrow with Evan that they don’t want me around for.
Sure. Meet you at Monet’s at six?
I’ll save you a seat. Usual order?
You know I don’t change things Elliebear. I smiled affectionately at the nickname and put my phone away. Scott had pulled up in front of my parent’s house.
“See you tomorrow Scotty.” I told him, reaching around the driver’s seat to rub his hair.
“El, not the hair. I’ll see you. It was nice meeting you Evan.”
“You too, Scott. Have a good night.”
The door opened as soon as we set foot on the front walk and my mom poked her head out. “Hey Mom. I’ve missed you.”
“Oh, come here and let me look at you.” She cooed, pulling and prodding me to get a good look.
“Mom, relax. I haven’t changed that much since the last time I saw you.”
“Hello Mrs. Davis. How are you?” Evan asked her as he pulled me closer to him to stop her examining.
“I’m lovely dear. Robert set up the guest room for you. Ellie, you’ll be in your own room.”
“I know Mom. Wasn’t expecting anything less.”
As we walked into the living room, dad looked up from his newspaper, “hey sweetheart, Evan.” “Mr. Davis.” Evan greeted and shook his hand firmly.
“Now now, what have we told you? You will be family soon enough. It’s Robert or Dad.”
“And Jillian or Mom.” My mom added.
“I know. Habit.”
“Well Ellie-muffin, what did you want to do tonight for your first night back in town?”
“I thought you had to talk to Evan about stuff. And I understood from mom that I wasn’t supposed to be there. So, I kind of already made plans….”
“That’s right. I told you about it last week Rob. We have to go over stuff for tomorrow.”
Dad thought for a moment, trying to remember the conversation, “that’s right. Sorry Jill, I’ve been busy with work and stuff that it must have slipped my mind.”
“What are you doing tonight, beautiful?”
“Just going to get a coffee with Monty now that I’m back in town.” I told him, casually. It’s just coffee and catching up with a friend.
“That sounds like fun. Let him know I’m looking forward to meeting him tomorrow.”
“I will. I’m going to run upstairs and change. You guys have fun down here.”
“What about dinner, Ellie?”
“It’s okay mom, I’ll just grab some soup or something at Monet’s.”
At about twenty to six, I decided to head out. I chose a cute, casual ensemble. I had thrown on one of Monty’s old baseball shirts, that I stole in the ninth grade or something with some jeans and sneakers. It was comfortable and he never asked for it back, so I kept it. Sometimes I wore it to run errands or when I was running late to class in college. “Bye guys. Love you Evan.” I called from the door. My family had holed themselves up in my dad’s office to talk about the party tomorrow, and I had strict instructions not to disturb them. I heard a chorus of ‘bye’s from the house as I left.
I beat Monty to the café but that wasn’t surprising really since I had left so early.
“Hey, what can I get you this evening?”
“Can I get a-”
“She’ll get a skinny vanilla bean latte with only one pump of vanilla, a dash of cinnamon, and extra foam in a for here cup. I’ll get a regular black coffee. And she’ll also have the chicken and spinach sandwich.” I heard Monty say behind me. The barista looked at me, unsure if she should ring it in or not. I nodded at her and turned around to face him. Before he had a chance to say anything, I jumped into his arms for a hug. I did manage to salvage some dignity and not screech in his ear.
“Hey Elliebear.” He said after grunting from the impact.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
Our orders were finished quickly as it was surprisingly slow for a Friday night. Luckily, that meant our table was free. We sat down and conversation flowed easily. It was almost like we had never been apart.
“The ring is nice. It suits you. Bigger than I thought you would like but it’s nice.”
“It is nice, yeah. That reminds me, Evan said he’s looking forward to meeting you tomorrow.”
“So am I. See who finally caught your interest.”
“I was interested in other people before Evan.” I told him, scandalously.
“Ellie. That guy from drama class doesn’t count. And neither does your chemistry partner.”
“I was not interested in Adam. And Zach was my chemistry partner. I can assure you I was not into him.”
“Please, enlighten me as to these people you were interested in before Evan.”
“There was,” I paused. You. “Dylan from sophomore English was cute. Ian. Couple other guys in high school. Peter from my first year anthropology class was… very attractive, and smart.” I’ll just leave out that Peter was the professor.
“One guy aside from Evan? University of Georgia is a big school. There’s no way you only had eyes for two people.”
“I was busy. I practically lived in the library when I wasn’t in class or my dorm. What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Is there a girl I should be hearing about? Or should have heard about?”
“Nah. Nothing important or anything to write home about. I was busy.”
“Oh please Monty, you played ball at OSU. You honestly expect me to believe there was no girl in your life?”
“No, no. There were girls. Just nothing really serious.”
“Uh, huh.” I replied, sarcastically. When I reached for my cup, he reached for his, and our hands brushed. I was immediately transported back to the day of homecoming in senior year.
Flashback
“Remember students. The homecoming game is tonight at 6:30. You’ll want to be there early as our Liberty Tigers take on the Hildebrandt Mustangs if you want good seats. It’s sure to be a nail biter.” Principal Bolan’s voice boomed from the intercom during the morning announcements.
“In order for it to be a nail biter, our team would actually have to have a chance at winning.” Alex muttered to Clay and me.
“They are playing Hildebrandt. We could literally not show up and still win.” I told him, as I adjusted my bag on our walk from Alex’s locker to mine, where Zach was meeting me before chemistry.
“Maybe they got good over the summer. Didn’t Bryce spend the summer in Greece or something? Relaxing and drinking poolside?”
“I think it was somewhere in Italy, actually.”
“Either way, I don’t think he spent his summer bulking up and practicing for the season.”
“I mean, they have Monty.”
“And? What did he spend his summer doing Ellie?”
“When I wasn’t at camp, we spent the summer together. There was no poolside drinking. When I was at camp he hung out with Scott and did boy stuff. They also worked out a lot.”
“How was camp by the way?” Clay asked.
“It was good. Learned a lot from my campers. They learned a lot from me. Only one incident of blood. It was pretty good.”
We had made it to my locker, and I was arranging my books when I felt myself being pulled into someone’s arms and lifted off the ground. “Montgomery, put me down!” I laughed, feeling my whole body shake.
“Never.” He laughed, evilly.
“I have to grab my chem book. And go to chemistry.”
“I’ve got it.” Zach’s voice drifted over to me, “you carrying her to class today?”
“Nah, I thought about it but since I had to come find her this morning, I figure she can make it there on her own.”
“I was running late. My alarm didn’t go off when it was supposed to.”
“Excuses, excuses.” Monty replied, putting me down and shaking his head. I turned my attention back to my other friends.
“I’ll see you guys later? Zach and I are running late.”
“Sure. Justin said if I don’t go to the game tonight, he’d tell mom and dad about Ani. And I don’t want to deal with that.”
“Someone has to keep Clay company, so I have to go too.” Alex said, pushing clay lightly.
“Great. I’ll see you then. See you at lunch Monty.”
Lunch seemed to take forever and a half to arrive. I knew sleeping in would mess with my day. The guys were already at their usual table when I arrived and sat next to Monty, no closer than we usually did. “Ellie, think you could pray for us to not lose this game tonight?” Bryce sniggered from the end of the table. I only rolled my eyes in response.
“Hey, quit being a dick.” Monty told him. Bryce responded by chucking a grape at him.
“It’s fine Monty. Not like he hasn’t done it before.” I didn’t have to look up from my lunch to know he was sporting a displeased face. “It’s going to take a lot more than God to help you win if you don’t learn to throw better than that in the next six hours. But sure.” I made a show of getting myself ready to pray verbally, but not with intention, “Lord, please help the guys win tonight. Give them the ability to not trip over themselves when they make plays. And God, please show Bryce how to make the ball go where it’s supposed to and not hit some poor kid in the head again. Maybe, just maybe, then he will get laid tonight and we all know that’s really why he asked me to pray.”
The boys laughed hysterically around me as I smirked at Bryce.
“You need to quit hanging out with Monty, he’s rubbing off on you too much. And I was serious.”
“I know. I’ll do it for real after lunch. You can sit with me if you want.” I offered but knew he would decline.
I ran home to change after school for the game. “Mom, have you seen my baseball shirt?” I called, searching my room for Monty’s shirt.
“The last I saw it, it was on your dresser.” I dug around on my dresser for a bit until I found it.
“Thanks Mom.” I called, shrugging it on. I quickly fixed my hair and grabbed a sweater before bolting back out the door to meet Alex before the game.
I met him in the school parking lot, at about six. “Hey Lex.”
“Hey El. Clay should be here soon and we can go find a seat.”
“That’s good.” We made small talk for a few minutes before Clay pulled up in one of the Priuses. Pri-i?
“Hey guys. Ready to go watch us get our asses handed to us on the field?”
“Your brother is playing Clay. Have a little faith.”
“I guess you’re right. I can’t say he isn’t a good player. But even still. Justin and Monty can’t carry the whole team all night.”
“Scott and Charlie help. Zach is good.”
“Oh goody. Five of forty-seven players are good. That makes me feel so much prouder of them.” Alex joked as we found a decent seat in the middle of the stands at the beginning of the row.
“Well, just think, if we do win tonight, then the team will be too busy celebrating to give anyone a hard time for a few days.”
“Now that you mention celebrating Ellie, if they win are you going to go with Monty after the game?” Clay asked
“I told him I would meet him at Monet’s with the rest of them whether we win or lose.”
“Okay. Can you keep an eye on Justin? I don’t really feel like going out with the football team for the evening.”
“No problem. Is everything alright?”
“I think he’s just trying to figure out where he fits now that he’s doing better and on the team. I don’t think he thought he would get this far.”
“That’s fair. I’ll make sure he sits with us for a bit. See if I can make Monty play nice.”
“See if you can? Ellie. He would jump off a cliff if you asked him to. I don’t like him, but I know he likes you.” Alex argued. Likes me? I mean sure, as his friend. Right? I brushed off the thoughts and where they could lead and have occasionally led in the past.
“He doesn’t really like heights. But I guess you’re right. He’s my best friend.”
“Sure. Best friend.” Alex said, shaking his head. I watched him share a look with Clay.
“I’m going to go grab a water, you guys want anything?”
“No, I’m good thanks.” Clay said, his eyes scanning the crowd of arriving students, likely for Ani.
“Nah. Mom sent me with some kind of weird protein thing. It doesn’t taste half bad, so I’ll just have that.” Alex said, shaking a bottle. I nodded and ran down the bleachers to the concession.
After getting a bottle of cold water, I ran back up just before the game started. The teams had just gotten on the field and had lined up. As expected, the game was in our favour most of the first half. I waved at Monty occasionally when he was on the sidelines and he looked over at me. He smiled and waved back. During the second half Hildebrandt seemed to find their groove and the game was at least interesting. It wasn’t really much of a nail biter as Principal Bolan had promised this morning, but it wasn’t really boring either. Everyone knew that regardless of how we played, we would probably win. The game ended and the team and the crowd were excited. Matt and Garrison were so excited by the win, they tripped over their own feet and faceplanted on the sidelines. The excitement died down for a moment until they shot up and went on celebrating. As the team filtered off the field, students began leaving. “See you Monday Ellie.” Alex said as we hugged goodbye.
“See you. Have a good weekend guys. I have to go catch up with Monty.”
I spotted him waiting for me by the locker room, gym bag on his shoulder. “Good game.” I said as I walked up to him.
“Of course, it was. I was on the field.”
“Modest as ever I see.”
“Do you expect anything else at this point Elliebear?” “Not really. But I can hope, maybe one day.”
“Maybe, but not likely.”
“Oh hey, while I’m thinking about it, Clay asked me to keep an eye on Justin tonight.”
“Is everything okay?”
“I think so. Clay said something about him having issues adjusting and stuff. Do you think you can play nice with him for a while?”
“I suppose, since he is your friend, I can try and be nice for a while. But not all night. I want some Ellie time.”
“And you’ll get your Ellie time. After you make nice with Justin.”
He sighed and was about to respond when Bryce called us, “are you two going to stand there and chit chat all night or are we going to celebrate?”
“We’re coming. Give us a minute asshole.” Monty called back to him. Bryce waved him off and walked away, leaving us alone.
He turned his back to me, “hop on”, he told me as he bent down slightly. Once I was secure against his body, he began to walk us out to the parking lot. Because he wasn’t paying attention, it was the perfect time to steal his hat. Plucking it off his head, I placed it on mine. It was slightly too big, but I didn’t mind.
“That’s my hat El.”
“I know. I happen to like it though, so I’m wearing it.”
“I’m not getting it back tonight, am I?”
“Nope. It is now mine. Might even write my name in it.”
“You do that Ellie. I won’t care when I steal it back who’s name it has in it.”
“Fine. Then I’ll readjust it.” I smirked.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, I would.”
He laughed as we arrived at our cars and he set me down. “No, you wouldn’t.” He shook his head for emphasis, calling my bluff. I pushed him lightly and rolled my eyes.
“Whatever. I’ll see you at Monet’s in a few with your precious hat.”
True to my word, I arrived at Monet’s a few minutes later, Monty’s hat placed firmly on my head. The place was packed with students celebrating the win. I went to the counter and greeted Skye, placing our usual orders and adding whatever Justin usually got. Once placed, I turned to look for a table. Luckily most students knew where Montgomery and I sat so our table was clear. Making a couple of trips, I placed the drinks on the table and pulled out my phone. I texted Justin quickly, hey Justin. I grabbed you a coffee. Feel free to sit with Monty and I when you get here. Don’t worry, he agreed to be nice. He replied with a thumbs up. The sound of a chair scraping the floor next to me startled me. “I see you told the truth. Can I have it back now?”
“No. I think it looks quite fetching on me, if I do say so myself.” I spoke regally, swiveling my head to show him from multiple angles.
“Fetching?”
“Yes. Do you disagree?”
“No, I think it looks good on you.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Monty and I chatted quietly before Justin showed up. “Hey guys.” He said, standing slightly awkwardly to the side of the table.
“Justin! You made it.” I exclaimed, smiling. Monty shot me a tone it down look. He smiled back at me as I stood and moved next to Monty. “Make room.”
“Can do sweetheart.” He charmed, patting the chair next to me. I rolled my eyes and tried to ignore the flutter in my stomach when he called me sweetheart, before sitting down.
“Thanks for the coffee Ellie.” Justin told me, taking a sip.
“No problem.” The three of us chatted idly for a while. Monty was nice to Justin and even laughed a few times at one thing or another he said.
Somewhere along the line of our conversation, our hands drifted towards each other under the table. I felt his hand wrap around mine and I felt my cheeks flame. The flutters were back, and I looked at him from the corner of my eye. He acted like he hadn’t noticed that we were holding hands. “Hey Justin, come over here and look at this.” Charlie called over to our table. He was looking at something on Garrisons’ phone. Justin waved to him and stood up, taking his coffee with him. I wonder if he noticed we are holding hands. Maybe he’s leaving us alone for a reason. Maybe….
“And then there were two.” Monty spoke, pulling me from my thoughts before they could go any further.
“Then there were two.” I echoed.
“That shirt looks good on you. It’s pretty familiar too.”
“Oh, yeah. There may be a reason for that.”
“Need to go talk to Mike?”
“Not if you don’t have a problem with it. I think he would agree it was simply borrowing, rather than stealing. No need to involve Jesus.”
“I am. So now you’ve got my shirt and my hat. Anything else you intend on taking of mine?”
“Possibly. Depends what else you’re willing to offer.” I flirted slightly, moving my hair behind my ear.
“I think there’s a thing or two I could offer you Ellie.” He flirted back, leaning in slightly. Oh my goodness. He’s going to kiss me. My thoughts immediately began flashing forward at a rapid pace. Us going for innocent coffee dates. Introducing him to dad as my boyfriend. The possibility of church on Sundays. Introducing him to Pastor Mike. Our first fight. Making up from said fight. Getting accepted to the same college. Graduation. College. A ring. Coming home and getting married in the little white church just out of town. Marriage. Kids. Sitting on our porch when we are old and grey. Before he could kiss me, Bryce called him from across the room. He stopped just short of my lips and looked over at him, “what?”
“My place, half an hour.” He called back. Monty nodded in response and turned back to me. I was smiling at him, trying to hide the fact that I was mildly hurt he stopped short of kissing me. Or that I was annoyed that my mind had gone so far once again. I chuckled and took a drink of my coffee. I looked at my watch and saw that even though it wasn’t necessarily late late, it was late enough that I could get away with leaving on account of the time.
“Shoot. Is that really the time? I have plans with my mom in the morning. I should get going.” I said, getting up and grabbing my bag.
“Oh, okay. Are we still on for waffles Sunday afternoon?”
“Yeah. Be at my place around one? I need to talk to Pastor Mike about a few things after service.”
“I’ll be there. Text me when you get home.”
“I will.” I said, trying to keep the hurried tone out of my voice. I just want to get out of here. I took my cup back to the counter and made my way to the door, trying to keep an even pace. I didn’t look back as I left the café.
End Flashback
Shaking the memory from my mind, I pried some more. “What about the blonde girl you told me about briefly?”
“Sara?”
“Yeah.”
“She was nice. Very peppy and chipper though.”
“Ah yes. Need to keep up that stoic exterior. Can’t have someone too chipper, lest people think you have a soul or something.”
“Exactly.” He laughed. He took a long sip from his cooled coffee. “Can you imagine if I brought her home?”
“Well, knowing your mother, I would probably be attending your engagement party tomorrow instead of the other way around.”
“Oh probably.”
“How is your mom doing, by the way?” “She’s doing okay. After dad died, she was pretty out of it for a few months. She’s gotten better with time though. Really started to come into her own and forge her own path.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“Not going to ask how I’m doing Ellie?”
“No. I know how you’re doing.”
“Oh really?”
“Montgomery. I am your best friend. Your dad was never a parent. DNA doesn’t make someone your family. You’re doing the same as you did the day you left and vowed to never speak to him again.”
He looked surprised at me. “Sometimes I forget how well you know me.”
“I know. That’s why I have to remind you all the time.”
“Yeah, yeah. How did Evan react to Scott on the way from the airport?”
“I’m not totally sure. I don’t think he realized how things worked at Liberty and exactly what you and I being friends meant. Scott told him about the treehouse.”
“Oh no. Ellie. I need to look the guy in the eye tomorrow.”
“I know you do. Don’t worry. He didn’t seem upset or anything. I think he found it amusing actually.”
“Did he tell him anything else?”
“About you?”
“Yeah.”
“No, mentioned how you guys fucked up and didn’t study for midterms and I singlehandedly kept you all on the team. And how Matt and Garrison managed to keep themselves above their feet until after homecoming senior year.”
“Of course, he did.”
“Don’t worry. Evan will like you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I like you. And even though you think you are, you really aren’t a bad guy.” We talked for about another hour or so, just catching up, before we decided to call it a night.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Three o’clock sharp.”
“Good.” I said squeezing him in a hug. When we pulled apart he looked down at me, seeming to finally notice my shirt.
“Is that my shirt?”
“Yes it is.”
“I thought I lost that years ago.”
“You never asked for it back. We agreed that I technically borrowed it, remember?”
“Yeah but I also thought you would have given it back by now.”
“I mean, I can give it back to you tomorrow if you want it.” I offered.
“No, no. You keep it. You seem comfortable in it.” I smiled at him in response before he hugged me again and we said goodbye.
The next morning was somewhat hectic in the Davis household. My mom was up at a time God himself would shake his head at, doing last minute cleaning. My dad was up shortly after, making sure the yard hadn’t disappeared overnight or something. I woke up around ten and before I could even get a sip of coffee in me, I was already being bombarded with questions about what I was wearing or how I was doing my hair by my mom. Jeez Louise, if the engagement party is like this, what will the wedding day be like? “I have a white dress with flowers I was going to wear. It’s strapless and cute. Dressy enough for a party.”
“Strapless?”
“Yes Mom. It is strapless. I brought a cardigan to wear with it before you have a coronary.”
“Well I suppose that is alright then. And your hair?”
“A simple curled high ponytail. I have an elastic with a bow on it to use. I have thought about this you know.”
“I know dear. It’s just all so exciting, isn’t it? My only daughter is getting married.”
“Very exciting, yes.” I grumbled. “Now will you please let me go get a cup of coffee?”
“Can’t that wait darling? We have so much to do.”
“She will be much more of a help after a coffee Jillian.” Evan spoke from the hall upstairs. “Give her a few minutes to wake up and she will be ready to go, won’t you El?”
“Yes, I will.” I replied, moving towards the kitchen in search of the rich black liquid. Evan came down and grabbed the milk from the fridge to steam for my latte. “Thank you, I appreciate that you did that.” I whispered to him, gratefully.
“Of course, Buttercup.” He muttered into the top of my head and measuring out the perfect amount of milk into the pitcher, before half emptying a packet of Splenda into my mug. I set to work grinding and packing the espresso powder. I enjoyed my latte over my Bible while Evan got ready for the day’s events.
Shortly after I had gotten dressed, the caterers arrived, and it became even more hectic. They were finishing various dishes and trying to make room in the fridge. I watched on from the sidelines and tried to stay out of the way as much as possible. Evan came over to me and placed his arm around my waist. “You look beautiful.”
“You look great too, handsome.” I blushed, placing my arm around his waist too. Finally, around 2:30, the caterers had finished all of the food and set up. Cupcakes had been delivered and were set out on cake stands. Balloons were up and fairy lights lined the crown moulding around the living room. The room looked perfect.
Guests began arriving just before three. Justin and his girlfriend Sasha were the first to arrive. Justin and Jessica had broken up halfway through their first year of college, the strain of long distance becoming too much for them. They were still amicable in social situations though.
“Hey Justin. Hello Sasha. How are you guys?” I greeted them, warmly.
“We are good.” Justin replied, his hand firmly placed in hers.
“Hey guys.” Evan greeted them. The pair waved in acknowledgement.
“Let’s see the ring Ellie.” Sasha gushed. I held out my hand while she examined and fawned over the ring. I caught Evan and Justin share a look. Oh boy. This could get interesting for the man.
We continued greeting guests, accepting congratulations and gifts, and smiling as they arrived. Monty showed up right at three, as promised. “Hey you.” I greeted, beaming at him.
“Hey Elliebear.” He said, pulling me into a quick hug. Evan stood to the side, giving us a moment. I pulled away and turned towards Evan.
“Evan, this is Monty. Monty, this is Evan.” I motioned. They shook hands.
“So, you found the way to Ellie’s heart, huh?”
“Yeah. She is something special. I thank God every day that she decided to give me a chance.”
“Don’t I know it?” Monty replied, almost whistfully.
My mom called me over and I decided it would be a good idea to perhaps not leave the boys alone together. “Coming Mom. Scott is over there by the cupcakes.” I said, pointing him out. “Try to keep him from eating himself to a sugar high?”
Monty laughed, “can do Ellie. It was nice meeting you Evan. Congratulations.”
“You too Monty. Enjoy the party.”
I watched as he walked over and greeted Scott, taking a glass of champagne and a cupcake for himself. My mom called me over again and I ran over to see what she wanted. The party went off without a hitch. The only thing that concerned me was the way my eyes sought out Montgomery all afternoon and not my fiancé. Not to mention the all too familiar fluttering in my belly whenever I was near him or made eye contact with him.
**
The day had finally arrived. After a year of meticulous planning, it was finally my wedding day. All of the stress and details and late-night crying had all led up to this one day. The church was beginning to fill with guests. The loving memory sign was placed near the altar. I thought of how my granddad would have been the one to preach the service if he was still with us when I decided on the placement. My bridesmaids had already left the room to line up to walk down the aisle. Evan would be at the altar by now. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I couldn’t shake the feeling of fear that was becoming harder and harder to ignore.
My off-white wedding dress was on, my veil in place on my head, and my makeup and hair looked flawless. Everything was perfect. Almost everything. I shook in the bridal room, waiting for the planner to call for me. You can do this Ellie. I fiddled with my engagement ring for a moment before I heard Melissa knock on the door, “we are ready for you Ellie.” Forcing a big smile on my face, I nodded to her and walked out of the room where my dad was waiting to walk me down the aisle.
“You look beautiful sweetheart.” He told me as I handed him my engagement ring for safe keeping and took his arm. The chapel doors opened, and Evan turned to look at me from the altar. I could tell his eyes were wet with unshed tears and when he saw me, he covered his mouth and looked up, trying to hold the tears back. The crowd was standing watching our reactions. My bridesmaids smiles beamed from the altar, brightly. I trained my eyes on him as my dad walked me down the aisle. My dad gave me to Evan and Pastor Mike began the service.
“We are gathered here today, before God and those closest to Ellie and Evan to join them in in celebrating their love and commitment to one another.” He continued speaking, “when Ellie called me to announce her engagement, I was thrilled for her. By the time they got around to coming back to Evergreen County from their home in Atlanta, and they asked me to officiate, I knew my answer would be a resounding yes. Getting to know Evan and see these two together over the last number of months, has opened my eyes to how these two help each other in their journey to seek to know and have a relationship with the Lord. Ellie mentioned early on in planning to me, that her favourite verse in the Bible is 1 Corinthians 13:4-8 and expressed the importance of including it on this special day. I would like to read you that verse now.  4 Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud 5 or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. 6 It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. 7 Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.
8 Prophecy and speaking in unknown languages[a] and special knowledge will become useless. But love will last forever!”
Pastor Mike continued speaking, but my eyes had begun to scan the crowd. They swept from one side of the church to the other. Near the back on the right side, next to the door, I spotted some of my friends. I saw Scott and Justin, along with Sasha, sitting with Charlie and Zach. Bryce surprised me and RSVP’d yes, even if part of me knew he knew I only invited him out of politeness. He was sitting next to Charlie, sandwiched next to Clay and Alex. As my eyes continued to scan the room, I didn’t see him. When they landed on Scott and I maintained eye contact for a moment, he shrugged, and frowned slightly. He isn’t here. He didn’t come. Tears filled my eyes and I turned back to Evan, my hand still resting in his. I made sure to smile so it appeared that I was merely overwhelmed with joy and not feeling my heart be crushed with despair. “Evan Andrew Taylor, do you take Ellie Marie Davis to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part, according to God's holy ordinance?”
“I do.” Evan replied, wholeheartedly.
“And do you Ellie Marie Davis, take Evan Andrew Taylor to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part, according to God's holy ordinance?”
I took on last look at the crowd gathered around us and made eye contact with Scott before turning back to Evan, “I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I spoke quietly, letting go of his hand. I looked back at Scott and nodded to him. He turned to Justin and Zach, as the crowd gasped. I stepped down from the altar and it seemed to kick my friend’s butts into gear.
“Shi-” Scott started before realizing he was in a church. “Shoot.” He amended, quickly. He stood up and met me at the end of the aisle as my friends joined me in running out of the church. To our surprise, Bryce tossed Scott his keys and Zach picked me up to carry me to the car. “Zach drives.” He said, giving me a thumbs up.
We were in Bryce’s car before Scott spoke again, “did that really just happen?”
“Yeah. Yeah it did.” I was still in shock.
“Why?” Justin asked as we drove away from the church.
“He wasn’t there.” I said simply, staring out the window. “I couldn’t marry Evan knowing that I was in love with someone else. I couldn’t stand up there and say I do to him when I was praying for someone to stand up and object. Or to be up there with me instead.”
The boys were silent for a while as we drove around. Scott was in the front, looking for Montgomery’s car in every lot we passed. Justin was holding my hand tightly, trying his best to soothe me.
“You should know that he was. There.” Zach advised, “he wanted to be, but he couldn’t mess things up for you and he couldn’t sit and watch you get married to someone that wasn’t him.”
I didn’t respond, I merely tried to absorb the information I was being given. He was there. Why didn’t he come and tell me anything? Why didn’t he mess things up? I was pulled from my thoughts when my phone vibrated, alerting me I had a text. It was from Bryce. Monet’s. Your table. I never thought I would see the day where I would honestly thank Bryce Walker and mean it once, let alone twice. “He’s at Monet’s.”
“How do you know?” Zach asked, glancing in the rear view to make a lane change and turn us around.
“Surprisingly, Bryce.” I watched as my friend’s brows all raised. They couldn’t believe it either.
I was silent as Zach drove the rest of the way and parked across the street from the coffee shop. I scanned the building quickly, searching for any sign of him. I spotted him in the window, at our table, just like Bryce had said. Monet’s had become licensed a couple of years back, so they could serve alcohol. Monty was sitting alone, in his black suit, nursing what appeared to be a tall bourbon, neat.  “Go get him El.” Scott encouraged me. I nodded and checked for traffic before opening the door and stepping out of the car. Damning laws at this point, since the street was clear, I half ran across and yanked open the door. The few patrons and baristas looked up and appeared slightly annoyed at the sudden, rude intrusion, before they took note of my attire. White dress, veil, hair and makeup applied. It became clear that I was here on a mission and it wasn’t only coffee or a quick shot of liquid courage. Picking up my dress slightly so I didn’t trip on the stairs, I walked over to his table. “Is this seat taken?” I asked, softly.
He looked up at me, his eyes widening in surprise and full of unspoken questions.
“I couldn’t do it if you weren’t there. You’re my best friend Monty.”
He scoffed quietly before replying, “it’s not taken, no. Sit if you want,” and taking another drink from his glass, not looking at me.
“Hey,” I started, reaching for his hand. He looked at my hand and after a pause let me take it, “I mean it. I couldn’t marry him.”
“Why not?”
I was quiet while I thought over how to explain my feelings. Noticing he had about fingers width of bourbon left in his glass, I grabbed it, downing the rest of it.
“Hey. I was drinking that.” He protested. That was all the courage I needed.
“I couldn’t marry Evan because he wasn’t you. And you weren’t there to say anything by the time I walked down the aisle. You were just going to give me away and live the rest of our lives wondering what if.” I told him while I stared into the bottom of the now empty glass, too afraid to look him in the eye.
“You- really? How did you know…?”
“Zach told me.”
“I know I wasn’t there Ellie. I just. I couldn’t sit there in that church and watch you marry him. And I knew I was and would be too much of a coward to stand up and say something when I saw you standing up there with him. I had to let you be happy.”
“Don’t you get it Montgomery? I wouldn’t have been happy. Not really. Or at least not for long. Not with Evan.”
“So why did you agree to marry him?”
“Because I thought it would be easier? My friends liked him, my family liked him, I liked him. I just thought that it would be easier to ignore my feelings. I could marry him, officially move to Atlanta, come home a couple of times a year, have a couple of kids. It all seemed easier than admitting to myself that I was in love with my best friend and if I really, truly wanted to be happy, I would need to be with him instead. And that admitting that would change everything. But I’ve learned over the past year that easy doesn’t always mean happy. And sometimes what we think is easy in the short term, isn’t always easy in the long term.”
He chuckled lowly, “took you long enough.”
I furrowed my brow at him, “what is that supposed to mean? I just confessed my love for you, and that’s all you have to say?”
“Yeah. It took you long enough to come to that conclusion. You were what? Half-way through the ceremony before you put a stop to it?”
“Not exactly. I knew a while ago. I spent the whole morning shaking and waiting for you to come and tell me that I was making a mistake. When you didn’t come, I thought… that you either didn’t feel the same way, or that you were going to do the kind thing for once and not say anything, but I thought at least you would be there. When I saw that you weren’t, I knew I couldn’t marry him. Even if it was the easy choice.” When he didn’t say anything I added, “you picked a great time to do the kind thing.”
“Yeah, well. You knew it would happen sometime. You owe me another shot by the way.”
“Oh please. There was barely a fingers width in your glass.” I told him, sighing dramatically.
He looked at me through his impossibly long eyelashes, “they won’t serve you that small an amount.” I rolled my eyes and stood up to go order him another shot. You owe me another shot… men. I was surprised when he grabbed my wrist to stop me, before pulling me into his lap, rather gracefully given the fit of my dress, and kissing me deeply. Monty pulled away first and turned to look out the window. Our friends had gotten out of the car and were clapping and high fiving each other. 
“How about that shot now?” Monty smirked.
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