#getting ao3 comments is the greatest thing in the world every time my heart bursts seriously | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

caswellprmanager · 3 years ago

Text

drawbridge

read it on ao3

Ship: Ricky Bowen/EJ Caswell

Summary: Snippets of EJ Caswell's life leading up to the mystery that is Ricky Bowen.

Notes: Hello. I decided to bite the bullet and post something here! This technically is in my Trans!EJ and Genderqueer!Ricky AU but I haven't properly written anything for it yet so consider this one to be the first official fic within that universe. Feel free to send some asks or other headcanons in my inbox about the AU! I'd love to hear what people think (but don't be unnecessarily mean. I will delete that very quickly.)

Disclaimer: I'm not an expert in all things transgender or genderqueer. I am writing from my own experience within the spectrum however so it's truthful to what I have been through, but will not represent everyone else's experiences. I also have friends within the spectrum who have given me great advice on how to go about these things but once again, it won't be accurate to everyone's experiences.

Warnings: Mentions of gender dysphoria, transphobia, and neglectful parents

People always told EJ that he had the picture perfect family.

His mom and dad were successful corporate lawyers, they lived in the wealthiest suburb in all of Salt Lake City, and he was the kind of child other parents would compare their own children to saying, "why can't you be more like EJ?"

But EJ knows that's farthest from the truth.

He doesn't have the picture perfect life or the paragon of White American families that people think they do. His parents are affectionate and supportive only when there are people around to comment on it. Most of the time, they're not even at home, leaving all of the child raising to their maids and other house servants. EJ spends more time at Ashlyn's house than he does at home because at least his aunt and uncle actually treat him like a son.

Because there are days his parents would forget they have a son. Sometimes they'd slip and call him their daughter, which makes EJ want to disappear from this world altogether. He supposes he should be grateful that they even bothered to pay for all the things he asked for — binders, testosterone shots, and regular visits to the doctor to check up on him throughout his transition. And he is grateful. He knows so many kids like him that can't even afford a decent sized binder without going bankrupt. He used to be that kid until he gathered up all his courage to come out to his parents.

But what they told him?

"Well, if you're gonna be our son, you will have to work twice as hard to make us proud now."

Yeah. It's a lot to process when you're 12 years old and scared shitless that you'd be disowned for "disrupting the natural order." But he figures things could be worse. So he sucks it up and vows to become the kind of son that his parents could truly brag about.

When EJ was a kid, he loved mysteries. His parents were the greatest mystery of them all. He's spent so much of his time trying to figure out what makes them happy, or angry, or sad. He's put the clues together and has a cork board of pictures and red string at the forefront of his mind whenever he so much as tries to interact with them. Soon, he sort of figured out what makes his parents smile at him — when EJ is excellent.

So, he became excellent at all kinds of sports, took up piano lessons, studied until his eyeballs burned with the lowlight of his desk lamp — all so that he could maybe get a pat on the back from his dad and a small smile from his mom. Their versions of "good job" or "keep it up." He drank that all in, craved it even, and worked his whole life until now to get even an iota of his parents' affection.

So, when he meets Ricky Bowen, the lanky and extremely clumsy skater who seems to live in the detention room, he was met with a brand new mystery to solve.

"Who's that?" EJ whispers into Nini's ear, who just seems to be irritated by the new person's presence.

"That's Ricky," she says with the barest hint of affection but with a whole lot of irritation. "My ex."

"Huh," He says, intrigued by the way Ricky's movements stutter like a half-finished stop motion film and how their wide doe eyes scan the room like — unironically — a deer in headlights. They looked nervous, confused, and all around terrified and EJ wants to reach out to them and tell them that this was a safe space. That they could be whoever they wanted to be in the theater.

He glances at Nini when Ricky starts singing a song that she seems to recognize. The immediate tensing of her shoulders and the way she subconsciously reaches out for EJ's hand for support tells him that this song... means something. Or meant something. EJ's not quite sure but he squeezes Nini's hand in silent reassurance, bringing himself to half-glare at the guitar playing skater just a few feet before him.

He met Nini during theater camp. A firecracker of talent with a voice that could melt the heart of even the coldest man on earth. She was beautiful in the spotlight and even more ethereal beneath the stars. She was kind, gentle, and a mystery that EJ solved quickly enough. She wore her heart on her sleeve despite it being broken because she believes that broken hearts can be mended with time and patience.

Nini was patient with him. She was patient with him when he took her up the little hill next to the campsite just to watch the stars on an old picnic blanket he stole from the camp counselors. She was patient with him when he couldn't keep up with the dance steps. Her hand was warm in his own and the flush of her palm by his neck was a grounding force that kept his head from going in the clouds.

She was especially patient with him when he took her to an empty tent and told her about his life. Nini was kind. Nini was patient. Nini was safe. And if she were to walk away and tell him that she wanted nothing to do with him after what he told her, he would have understood and learned to not associate kind brown eyes and ukulele calloused fingers to what could be barely described as home.

But she held his hand in her tinier ones, a smile on her face that radiated warmth that seeped into the depths of his soul, and told him that she was proud of him.

It was the first time that someone was proud of him... for just being him.

He cried into her arms that night, knowing he's got a lifelong friend within the kind brown eyes and ukulele calloused fingers of one Nini Salazar-Roberts.

"She thinks I'm a Chad?" He asks, less incredulously and more with a burning curiosity.

Nini rubs his arm comfortingly but he keeps staring at the cast list like it was going to burst into flames any second. "You're still a Troy understudy! You could still go on as him in one of the shows."

"Shows only run for three nights, Nini." He says with barely concealed frustration. Great. If he can't even get the role he was technically destined to play, how the hell is he going to explain himself to his parents?

You're not the lead? Oh, then we won't watch. If you're not onstage the whole time, why be there?

EJ grits his teeth and slowly brings his gaze to the person who has just taken away one more way for him to prove himself to his parents. Ricky Fucking Bowen, who stands there once again with their enormous brown eyes, gaping like a fish. EJ wants to deck them in the face. But Nini's hold on his arm grounds him back to reality and he lets out a long breath through his nose.

This is gonna be a long next few months.

"Look, I'm just trying to make the best out of a bad situation."

"Don't try," He ends up saying, still wiping at the blood caused by the basketball Ricky hit him with only moments ago. "It's painful to watch you do something you clearly don't want to do."

"What makes you think I don't want to do this?" Ricky asks with furrowed brows and EJ throws the wadded up tissue paper stained with his blood into the trash.

"You hated musicals before you auditioned. You landed the part of Troy without even fucking trying. And now you think you can get through rehearsals without fucking trying? It's tiring to work with someone who couldn't give two shits about this musical in the first place!" He says, every sentence rising in volume as he steps closer and closer to Ricky. "You also need to stay the fuck away from Nini."

Ricky scoffs then. "Why? Cause you're her boyfriend?"

"What? And you are?" He retaliates, which effectively makes Ricky click their mouth shut. EJ smirks. "Yeah. That's what I thought."

"Nini can choose whoever she wants to talk to." Ricky ends up saying with tense shoulders and a glare that could murder if EJ weren't already a person who doesn't fear death. "You can't tell me what to do."

"Well someone has to!" EJ throws his hands up in frustration, grabbing his jacket and zipping it up angrily. "Because you don't listen to Nini though, do you? Have you ever listened to her? Do you listen to anybody?"

"EJ I—"

"You better listen to me right now Ricky Bowen," he laces every syllable of Ricky's name with venom. "Stop trying to make things right. Stop trying to become a person you're not. If you actually cared about Nini or – god forbid – the musical, you'd stop trying and just get your shit together."

EJ doesn't even bother to look back at Ricky as he exits the bathroom, unaware of the look in Ricky's eyes when he walked away.

It isn't until Ricky approaches him one day after rehearsals that EJ was finally starting to unravel the mystery that was Ricky Bowen.

"Hey... EJ?" Ricky asks, looking at anywhere but at him and EJ would have been annoyed if it weren't for the way Ricky was holding themselves in front of him. They were tense, eyes glassy and unfocused whenever EJ caught a glance, and their fingers were gripping their bag straps so tightly that he was afraid Ricky was going to rip it apart if they weren't careful.

"Hey Ricky," He says with a softer voice than he's ever used with Ricky. "Is there something you need?"

Ricky's eyes dart around the still full rehearsal room, at the dangerously close proximity Miss Jenn was, at the stage managers that were just behind EJ who were reviewing the blocking notes, and finally at Nini who was engaged in a conversation with Carlos and Seb. Ricky's eyes lingered on Nini for a bit before they reluctantly settled on EJ's pristine white sneakers. "I would have normally asked Nini for this but – and you can say no by the way I'd completely understand – it's just..."

Ricky looks around again before leaning closer to EJ and shakily whispering, "Do you have any tampons?"

And just like that, the walls that were built around a certain Ricky Bowen were starting to crack. And EJ was allowed to see the smallest snippet of the kind of vulnerability that Ricky was capable of.

And it was the kind of vulnerability that he could relate to completely.

"My emergency stash is in my locker," He says, hastily packing up the rest of his things while Ricky continues to stand there dumbfounded. When EJ turns back to him with his own bag over his shoulder, he could see that there are a few unshed tears shining in Ricky's eyes. EJ softens for a second, knowing how difficult it must have been for Ricky to come to him for something so private.

"Come on. I'll even guard the bathroom for you." Ricky eventually follows him after a few seconds of just staring at his back and they fall in step around the corner. Ricky stays silent, fingers all fidgety and eyes still darting around like they'll be caught any second. EJ, instinctually, wraps a comforting arm around Ricky's shoulders. Ricky doesn't relax immediately but they do lean a little closer, somehow finding the weight of EJ's arm around them safe.

They eventually reach EJ's locker and Ricky smiles a bit because it's directly across from Sharpay's famous pink lockers. "Did you choose this spot specifically for Sharpay's lockers?"

EJ glances behind him and chuckles, rummaging through his stuff. "Oh yeah. If you say Ashley Tisdale three times in a row while touching her locker, you're guaranteed good fortune for at least a week."

Ricky looks at him with a smirk. "Have you tried that before?"

"Every year during finals week. I'm telling you, that shit works."

"Or maybe you're just really smart."

"Maybe," EJ says, finally locating his emergency stash of period essentials. "Or maybe it's just Ashley Tisdale bopping me to the top."

That's when Ricky lets out a laugh — an honest to god booming belly laugh that makes EJ pause just to stare at him. They look... nice like this. Without the worry lines and longing gazes at a girl who won't give them the time of day. They look just like a little kid, carefree and alive despite the world crumbling all around them, and EJ feels a weird surge of pride at being the person who made Ricky laugh like that.

He wants Ricky to laugh like that more. He wants to be the person who makes Ricky laugh like that more.

And so the walls around Ricky crack a little further, and the drawbridge is opened for one weary traveler to come in.

EJ doesn't notice the cracks on his own walls, nor the knowing little princess who watches from the east tower, smiling.

"Hey, what are your pronouns?"

Ricky doesn't look up from their practice skateboard, concentrating hard on their balance. "I don't have any. I'm just Ricky." They look up though, giving EJ a warm smile. "But go ahead and use any pronouns with me. I don't mind if it's you."

"So would you mind if I call you your majesty?"

EJ doesn't miss the flush on Ricky's cheeks at that and definitely doesn't miss the way they say "I'd like that very much." with the barest hint of embarrassment.

"Okay," EJ says with his chin propped up in his hands. "Your majesty."

Ricky falls off of their practice skateboard then, soon glaring up at a cackling EJ still with a blushing face.

EJ forgot his binder today.

And his body loved reminding him every time he took a step.

Thankfully, there wasn't going to be water polo practice today and he could get away with wearing multiple layers to school. But even with the sports bra, the t-shirt, the sweatshirt, and the letterman jacket doing a good job at making his chest look flat, he still felt his skin crawl looking at the mirror. His jeans hugged him a little too tightly, forcing him to notice the still feminine curve of his hips. His sports bra was a tad smaller than the last time he wore it, so the pinch at his chest doubled in size.

EJ resolved that he was not going to have a good day today.

But today was tech rehearsals and he couldn't ditch that. He was starting to really enjoy rehearsals now that he and Ricky are on good terms. Even the stage managers ask him to hang out with them time to time outside of rehearsals. EJ actually felt like... he really belonged somewhere now. And he wasn't going to let this ruin it for him. Not today.

"Hey EJ," He heard Nini say to him as he got out of his car. "What's with all the layers? It's pretty hot today."

"It's one of those days, Neens." He says with a heavy sigh and Nini just grabs his hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. Ricky rolls up to them two seconds later, their head suspiciously missing a helmet.

"How many times do I have to tell you to wear a helmet when you're skateboarding, Ricky?" EJ tries to scold the junior despite this weirdly overwhelming fondness growing inside of him every time he even looks at Ricky now.

"Haven't gotten into an accident yet," Ricky shrugs, smiling politely at Nini and changing it into a cocky little smirk the second they look at EJ.

"Yet being the operative word here," EJ rolls his eyes and opens his trunk for Ricky to stash his board in for later. "I won't drive you to the hospital if you end up getting a concussion for not wearing a helmet."

"Yes you will." Ricky says, knocking their shoulders together. "You love me!"

EJ freezes for a bit but before he could even respond, Ricky is already catching up to Big Red and Gina, waving back at EJ and Nini with a wide grin. EJ stares at him for a few seconds, not quite sure how to process the last few moments, until Nini waves a hand in front of his face.

"Hello? Earth to EJ?"

"Huh?"

"Care to share with the class what's going on?" The little smirk on her lips says it all and EJ was not going to fall for that.

"Nope. There's nothing to share."

"Mhm," She says, looping her arm around EJ as soon as he closed his trunk. "Of course there isn't, EJ." Nini pretends not to see EJ staring at Ricky as they walk into school. EJ pretends to not notice that she's pretending to not see EJ pretending to not overtly stare at Ricky.

Besides, EJ has gotten pretty good at pretending.

Aaaannndd that's it for now. I hope you guys liked that! I really enjoyed exploring trans!ej and genderqueer!ricky through this au and it means a lot to me. Maybe next time I'll write something in ricky's pov but for now thanks for reading !!

#ej caswell #ricky bowen #nini salazar roberts #rj #hsmtmts #trans!ej #genderqueer!ricky #tw: gender dysphoria #tw: transphobia #tw: neglectful parents #cloud's writing now #hsmtmts fanfiction #they're not really together yet here but #ej is Definitely pining at the end tho #and nini is the best i will not tolerate nini slander in my blog #caswen #ricky x ej #ej x ricky

41 notes · View notes

innocent-dumpling · 4 years ago

Text

I’m Not Done

Some of you have probably read this story I created for @shikatemaweek already due to my first post. I just wanted to try and get into the habit of also uploading my one-shot stories here too in order to be more Tumblr Friendly so I’m sharing it again. Rating: K+ / General Audiences Fandom: Naruto Relationship: ShikaTema If you enjoy this story please consider leaving a comment on this post or on AO3 or even reblogging. I appreciate feedback so much!

CLICK BELOW TO READ THE STORY ON AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/24992056

READ THE STORY ON TUMBLR BELOW.

She knew going into the relationship that nothing would be easy. Distance, work and family expectations all weighed down on the pair of them. But what Temari had not anticipated was the pressure that would befall her once they got married. To put it simply, children. The topic came up countless times over the course of their courtship by the meddling exterior forces, always seeking to gain control of their very existence. But until recently the topic has not been touched by herself or Shikamaru, for which she had been thankful. The concept of giving the man she loves a child was not a horrifying one. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Merely thinking about carrying their child filled her with so much warmth and happiness that she felt as if her heart might burst. Bringing a pure little soul into the world would be perhaps the highlight of her life to date. But it was the things that followed that caused her insurmountable levels of distress; giving birth and motherhood. Both fears stemming from deep-rooted trauma from her upbringing, or lack thereof.

Shikamaru raised the topic for the first time the day prior and Temari skilfully evaded it; but today he was intent on procuring an answer to his seemingly harmless question. “So how many kids should we have?” His question was kind, full of love and very smooth as he always was when tackling topics of a romantic nature. It hurt to answer him knowing what it was she had to say. Every fibre of her being screamed out in the hope that she would reconsider before shattering his dream. “I don’t want to be a mother,” Temari responds at last, causing her husband’s mischievous smile to disappear from his lips as the last syllable trailed from her own. For the hours that followed they bickered back and forth, never getting to the root of the issue, just going around and around in circles. He simply couldn’t understand, and she stubbornly refused to elaborate further. Their emotions were almost as high as the impenetrable wall she had built around her the instant his smile vanished. It was difficult to recall the last time she felt so distraught. It was clear what he needed in order to process her answer. The full truth. But it was the one thing she wanted to avoid discussing at all costs. Not due to any suspicious reason, although she assumed that he might be exploring that hideous avenue of thought. No, it was simply out of self-preservation from an emotional standpoint. The wounds of her childhood ran deep, as did the associated anxiety. Her parents were a topic she avoided with the greatest precision over the years they had been together. It was almost second nature at this point. That chapter of her life was over, and if she could keep that rattling door sealed shut, she would do so at all costs. It was not a path she sought to gain a deeper understanding of like Gaara. It hurt far too much and reaped far too little of a reward. Fists clench at Temari’s sides as she takes a deep breath. Her heart once filled with love was bursting with nothing but anxiety as she gazes up at her husband. As always, his annoyingly handsome face stared down at her from above, frustration marking his features as his brows pinched together. “For fuck’s sake, what aren’t you telling me?” Shikamaru whispers hoarsely, hands gripping her arms as he peered down at her. His dark eyes quivering as he stared down at his wife, her gaze averting. It hurt. What should’ve been such a simple conversation between them was now the source of what was without a doubt, the most painful argument that their relationship had endured thus far. Swallowing hard, Shikamaru loosens his grip on her arms, a sigh slipping from his lips as his brain goes into overdrive. Nothing about it made sense. “I don’t get it, why are you only telling me that you don’t want children now? You didn’t think this was worth telling me before we got married months ago?” he asks bluntly, voice straining as the words rolled off the tip of his tongue. I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation. She never mentioned this before. Not once! His mind cries out in frustration, heart palpitating so hard he could feel the pulse dance up in his throat as he looked upon Temari’s downcast visage. Her lips tremble and part for a moment, silence befalling the pair as she presses her cushioned tiers together once more. She didn’t owe him an explanation. Her decision was final. Why couldn’t he respect that and leave well enough alone? She exhales, eyes drifting up to his face once more, hot tears spilling down her cheeks as she took in his heartbroken expression. Only a few years back she’d made a silent vow to never cause him to make such an expression. In hindsight perhaps it was foolish to believe such a feat was possible given the turbulent nature of life. I’m sorry. I thought that maybe I could do this, she muses silently as she shook free from his touch; slowly walking away. “I’m done,” Temari whispers, her voice breaking as she stood silently a few steps from him. I don’t want this to end, her mind screams out, a hot sensation tugging at her heart as her eyes fluttered closed. He deserves better. He deserves everything. I can’t offer him that. That was it. He was pissed. “I’m not done! You don’t get to decide this on your own, Princess Temari!” He calls out in a patronising manner, pain dripping from his voice as dark eyes narrowed. His dominant hand reaches forward instinctively, only to pull back as he witnessed her flinch at the sound of his voice. What happened? Did something change? Did I do something? The thoughts rang through his mind chaotically as he stared longingly at the back of the woman he loved with all his heart. He was confident it was through no fault of his own, their current discourse aside. So why was the love of his life peeling open his chest and ripping out his heart? I want answers! Fuck it, I deserve answers! He’d gone there. Using the title that she loathed with everything she was; Princess. She was royalty in name alone, her upbringing was anything but reflective of the privilege it implied. Was he trying to lure her into an argument of a different nature through one of his well-thought-out countermeasures? A trap if you will, to coerce the deeper reason out of her? On any other day, her answer would be yes, without a doubt. But given his current tone, it seemed more likely that it was simply said with little to no thought on the matter. It simply came from a place of suffering and confusion. She couldn’t blame him. “I can though,” Temari replies simply, swallowing hard as she fought to keep her emotions in check; “If you keep wanting to discuss children like the elders of both our families, then it’s over. You can’t pressure me into anything let alone this. I won’t stand for it.” It hurt to even state such a thing, to cast her dreams aside out of fear of the final result of such an endeavour. Who am I to raise a child? I was raised with not an ounce of love for a majority of my life, her mind cries out, a hand reaching up to her head, rubbing her right temple gently as she attempted to subside her throbbing headache. Everything about the conversation was heart-wrenching, from the topic through to the ease of which she had said she was willing to leave him. “Calm down,” Shikamaru whispers as approaches her, arms wrapping around her torso from behind as his forehead presses up against the nape of her neck. It was plain as day that there was more to this, and the fact that she was unwilling to disclose it but would rather state such harsh things in its place was alarming. This isn’t you, he notes silently, gaze drifting to the floor as his shoulders relaxed; If you meant it, you would be trying to break away from me right now. Exhaling heavily, the strategist’s arms tighten under her bosom as he contemplated how to best proceed. He needed to reach her. “I’m not trying to pressure you. I don’t care if you want to have ten kids or no kids,” he explains, voice firm and unwavering despite the ache in his chest; “I just want you, and all the witty insults that come with loving you.” At this point, his love and heartfelt thoughts were all he could offer. This is playing dirty. Hearing that makes me want to break down, Temari’s mind cries out, cheeks flushing as she gazed down at his arms encircling her chest; I don’t deserve you. You are too understanding. Taking a deep breath, she slides her hands up and over his arms, heart-throbbing as she smiled tearfully. “No one in their right mind would have ten children,” she retorts as she attempts to calm the ache in her chest, relief washing over her. He was wearing down her defences slowly but surely; his weapon of choice, his love. “But tell me. Why don’t you want kids?” Shikamaru asks once more, eyes fluttering shut as he breathed a sigh of relief. Her playful counter to his statement, although unrelated to the comment he made overall, served to put him at ease when her gentle actions were also factored into the equation. While he knew that she loved him and had no intention of ending their relationship, it was a comfort for which he was grateful. “Because I don’t,” she fights back stubbornly, her teeth gritting as she fought to carefully select her words as she turned to face him. Determination printed across her tearstained cheeks like invisible warpaint. She could not let him crack her. Her pride was everything. His hands recoil as his lover turns to face him, her stormy eyes locking with his own fearlessly. “That’s not an explanation,” he states with a sigh as a hand brushes behind his neck, rubbing it absentmindedly. She was frustrating by default. “I don’t owe you one,” she replies stubbornly, lifting her chin a fraction as her chest tightened. He was determined to get an answer from her. She couldn’t blame him despite how irritating she found his persistence, after all, if the situation was reversed, she would likely do the same. Shikamaru frowns, his forehead creasing as he gazed back at her unsurely; “You know that you do. Don’t lie,” he retorts boldly, “I know you better than that.” Did he need to spell it out to her? It seemed so obvious where he was coming from, but perhaps that was all a matter of perspective. “I always pictured us having a family. Not because of those decrepit elders in Suna who nag us. Not because of the elders in my family who do the same. Just because I love you,” he explains, voice filled with exasperation. “I deserve to know the reason, because I’m prepared to forgo that future without hesitation,” he clarifies as he reaches forward, cupping both her face in the palms of both his hands. His words hit hard. The love he held for her was something she had always hoped she would receive. It was unlikely that anything she said would truly phase how he felt. It was that once in a lifetime love; pure and beyond all logic. “I know. I love you too. You know I do,” she responds gently, her wall crumbling down around her as she stood there silently; “I know I’m being selfish.” “Tem, I can tell you’re scared. Just talk to me,” he presses, hands slipping down the sides of her neck and across her shoulders, massaging them gently. How can I help you if you don’t let me in? Taking a deep breath, she relaxes her shoulders, I can’t refute anything he’s said. I owe it to him. Her tongue traces across her dry lips as her gaze softens. “I always wanted a family with you,” she admits, arms plaiting under her bosom as she swallowed hard; anxiety coursing through her every movement. “I’m just terrified, okay? I’m not as strong as you make me out to be,” she half yells out, her defensive nature taking the reins, her beautiful face quivering with pent up emotions that ached to be unleashed. “The idea of not surviving birth like my mother is crippling. That combined with my fear of being a traumatising parent like my father is just too much!” Temari admits at long last, heart pounding as she desperately tried to repress the wave of emotions that hit her all at once. Painful memories of a not so distant past that she would’ve preferred to not relive and anger, so much unresolved anger. “I’d never wish it on anyone let alone my own baby. They should only know what a home filled with love and safety feels like. Not what I experienced, that breaks you,” she cries out, her voice cracking as she spoke; I doubt he will understand. I’ll just come across as weak and idiotic. The handle had been turned, and the one part of her that she vowed to always keep out of his reach had been released. He had flung that door wide open, there was no going back. Shikamaru knew her well enough to know his wife didn’t want his sympathy; she wanted his honesty. That blunt honesty she had come to expect from him as her partner in life. “Look I get it, but you’re not your mother or your father,” he explains, hands rolling down to the sides of her arms and rubbing them thoughtfully in an attempt to calm her a little. A soft sympathetic smile slips across his lips as he tilts his head, “If you want my opinion, the fact that you worry so much about all these things for a baby that doesn’t even exist proves that you have the heart of an amazing mother.” “That’s the other thing. Our baby does exist,” she croaks, eyes welling with tears once more as calloused fingertips trace across her lower abdomen. “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t remember how it feels like to even have a mother let alone know how to be one,” she whispers, lips trembling as warmth trickles down the curves of her cheeks; her free hand stubbornly wiping away the tears as she tried to hold herself together. Would he regret knowing how she felt? Would he love her less? She wouldn’t blame him if he did. After all, who would want a woman with no sense of what it is to be a mother? I didn’t want to open that door, damn it! Her mind cries out as she falls to her knees, hands pressing down on the cold floorboards as she squeezes her eyes shut; I didn’t want you to ever see this side of me. This weak, pathetic shell of a woman who longs for her mother. I don’t want you to know me as a victim. Strong arms wrap around her shoulders, tugging her up to his chest. His body heat hits her like a tidal wave, engulfing her instantly as his head burrows into the nook of her neck. “Don’t say you’re done ever again. Not unless you mean it and even then, I refuse to accept it you troublesome woman,” he mutters, lips brushing against her skin as he struggles to calm his frazzled heart; I don’t think I could handle losing you, my painfully domineering wife. Cold hands trace across her hand hovering over her lower abdomen as he presses his forehead up against his wife’s; simply grateful. “We will work it out together, I promise,” Shikamaru mutters softly, lashes fluttering upwards as he drew his face back from Temari’s, her flushed and emotionally distressed expression softening as he smiled at her. A hand slips up to her face, cupping her cheek. His thumb tracing across the apple of her cheek, drifting through damp tear trails as he leant forward, pressing his lips up against hers tenderly. Shoulders relaxing, Temari sinks into his kiss. The depth of his love was endless. She instantly couldn’t help but feel like a complete and utter fool for even questioning his ability to handle that one part of her she ached to keep from him. But perhaps it was best for the events to unfold as they had. If not for any other reason, than to have experienced this moment of complete and utter bliss alone. “I love you, crybaby,” she teases as his lips draw back from her own, a single finger poking into his cheek playfully as she smiled earnestly for the first time that day. Neither of them were perfect. But one thing was for certain, the tiny baby growing within her was going to be as close to perfect as people come.

#shikatema #shikatemaweek2020 #shikamaru #temari #shikamaru nara #temari nara #innocentdumplingfanfics

25 notes · View notes

andaleduardo · 5 years ago

Text

Rooftop - Epilogue

Read on AO3

Summary:

Richie doesn’t think words do any justice to how much you can love someone. But he’ll worry about that later. For now, they stare at the sky.

Wednesday 02.06.1993

(Epilogue)

The thing about Richie and Eddie is that both of them are touch-starved and attention seekers. Those traits go hand in hand. Or hand in hand, hands in hair, lips on lips and lips on necks.

It’s only been a few days and, so far, every spare time they have is spent with one of them all over the other, which isn’t really different from the way it used to be before but, well. It’s also a hundred times better.

“Rich-” Turns out it’s awfully hard to compete against Richie’s lips. “Rich,” A peck. “-I’m serious.” Eddie says, breathless, against Richie’s close-mouthed kisses. God, kisses. They can kiss now. Of course they’re still doing it between four walls, away from the world for obvious reasons. But to Eddie, it tastes like the greatest amount of freedom he ever got to experience in his life.

“Stop pushing me away when all I want to do is shower you in honey.”

“What?”

“Look at that, the cutest boy on earth…” Richie speaks more to himself than anything, with half lidded eyes that drip of infatuation while he looks down at Eddie’s face.

“What are you even-?”

Richie moves in again with puckered lips, and Eddie pushes him away in embarrassment from all the sudden affection. “Stop that! I’m serious,” but he really isn’t, “we’re gonna be late.”

With a huff, Richie falls back on his side of the bed. “But I want to hold you all day and I can’t, Eds. Do you know how hard it is for me to not just- koala you in school? I literally wanna hold onto you and never let go.”

It takes every bit of Eddie’s self-control not to feed Richie’s amusement with his overall shyness. He’s been practising a lot of things lately, like trying not to melt with every word that comes from Richie’s mouth, perfecting his kissing techniques (although Richie claims Eddie’s already better than him) and also trying not to get hard every time they make out on Richie’s bed. On top of that, he’s been spending a lot of time staring, because he can. Staring at greasy hair, bony wrists, a lovely overbite, and so on.

Letting himself fall on top of Richie’s frame, Eddie hides an awkward noise against the boy’s shirt. “Quit it with those- those things you say…”

Richie stays silent for a while before mumbling into Eddie’s hair. “…I love it when you get all flustered.”

Despite all these new additions to his daily life, there are some things a person learns after so many years by Richie’s side. Eddie knows that sometimes he has to let certain comments go by without a response, otherwise, they’d still be stuck in an argument from kindergarten. So, he ditches Richie’s obvious try at making him even more embarrassed.

“You know what I love? Ben. And, in case you forgot, his birthday party starts in two hours and you have to go meet the others and help while I go get him, like we all agreed to and oh my god-”

Richie is about to ask ‘What’s wrong?’ when he notices that Eddie is looking at the clock on his bedside table.

“Oh my god, Richie, how long have we been here? We have like an hour!”

“You know what they say. You lose track of time when you’re making out with a hottie.” With both hands locked behind his head, Richie stares while Eddie hurries to put his shoes back on.

“No one fucking says that- get up you dipshit, we’re super late!” Eddie says as he glances back at him.

With a lovely pout, Richie finally gives in and starts looking for his shoes. “Ah Spaghetti, baby, relax. I’m in charge of setting up the table and bringing the couch outside. Can take care of that in a minute, just the same amount of time it takes me to get your mom to-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence.”

Plans turn out to be less easier than that. As soon as Richie jumps over the fence of Mike’s farm, which was totally unnecessary because one of the gates is a few steps away, he sees Bev storming over to him, and she looks a little angry.

“I can’t believe you’re late, one full hour. It’s Ben’s birthday!” She glares at him harshly.

Richie flinches and wrings his hands together. “Wish I had an acceptable excuse, oh wait… I do.” And then a smile lights up his whole face against his commands. It’s stupid, but Richie feels his cheeks heating up and rushes to cover them up with both hands, groaning shamelessly into his palms at the same time. Beverly drops the pout and snickers at him. The audacity. “Shut up, Marsh.” He whines.

“Oh boy, you’re so smitten.” Richie can practically hear the cocky grin on her voice. He sees it’s there, in fact, as he lets his hands fall at his sides.

“I hate you.”

He ended up giving her the update, without any details, because she knows all the events and stuff about his life. And maybe because he would burst if he didn’t talk about it to, at least, one person.

“You better not hate me. I put up with your lovesickness so I deserve to enjoy the honeymoon phase just as much as you do.”

Richie throws his head back at the same time as he crosses his arms. “Dude, stop giving me a hard time and just tell me what kind of punishment I have for being late.”

Bev rolls her eyes. “Do not call me a dude, dude. And I’m sorry, just messing with you.” She runs a hand through his hair to mess it up even further. “The water balloons are waiting for you by the faucet.” Then, she pats his arm way harder than needed and heads off to the picnic table, which she ended setting up herself along with Stan since Richie was, indeed, busier.

“Love you, too!” He screams after her and waves at Stan, Mike and Bill. Bill gives him the bird and Richie laughs so hard he almost walks straight into the barn’s closed doors.

He rolls the couch outside, trying to make it look easier than it actually is. Turns out couches on wheels don’t work well with grass. He’s tempted to throw himself on top of it after it’s settled on the right place by the temporary hammocks Mike set up in the trees, but instead he drags his feet to the outdoors faucet and stares at the pile of water guns and water balloon packs and tries not to miss Eddie so much.

It’s only been half an hour, but that’s half an hour too long. Now that he has something’s he’s been longing for years, now that he can be with the person he loves so much all the time, a simple trip to the bathroom feels too far away.

With a sigh, he settles down on the grass and starts filling up the plastic guns with water, feeling the back of his neck getting warmer and warmer as time passes. The voices of the others become white noise for Richie’s thoughts and he doesn’t hold memory of opening up the balloons’ package, nor filling up the first 12, knotting each of them, and throwing them in the empty bucket by his side. He’s too lost thinking about the last three days and too stuck on stealing glances at the dirt road to be aware of anything, that’s why he’s completely caught off guard when a water spray hits the side of his face.

“What the-?!” He screeches and turns around to find Stan looking smug with a water gun in his hand. “That’s a dirty move, Stanley, I’m just the poor guy who got stuck with the most boring part of water fights.”

“And I’m just the poor guy who got stuck with your part of the work because you decided to show up an hour later.” Richie really wants to throw a water balloon at him, but those little fuckers take up too much time to fill up to go to waste so soon.

“Jeez I get it, you old people. Richie’s late! Yeah, okay now how about a little bit of concern as to why I was late? What if I fell off my bike or almost got run over by a car?”

“We all know what held you up, Trashmouth. Now work faster or we won’t be ready by the time Ben arrives.”

At a lack of words, Richie’s mouth drops and he makes to get up and throw a water balloon straight to Stan’s face, but the other boy is quicker than him and uses his gun again, spraying Richie’s glasses and running off to help Mike set up the game stations. Richie feels out of breath just from a simple sentence. We all know what held you up, Trashmouth.

It’s only been a few days, but Richie is sure his life will end the day Eddie walks out of it. So, if Eddie’s not ready to share this part of his life with his friends yet, Richie will respect that. Which is why Stan’s comment makes him uneasy. What if someone makes a comment like that while Eddie is around? What if they tease them, not with real meanness, of course, and that makes Eddie uncomfortable? What if it’s all too much to handle for him? What if, what if, what if-

“You need to work faster than that.”

“Oh, fuck’s sake. Stop trying to make my heart stop.” He jumps a little in his seat and finds Beverly sitting down on the grass by his side. She’s already working on filling up more balloons. Richie stares at her for a while to catch his breath before joining her, the bucket filling up way quicker that way.

He clears his throat. “So, Stan knows?”

“Stan knows what?”

“Stan knows.” It’s all he says.

“I don’t know if Stan knows, but I think we all know.” She glances at him. “To some extent.”

Richie doesn’t know how to answer, so he doesn’t. His finger gets caught up while he tries to knot one of the balloons. He watches the skin turn red before pulling it out. He grabs another from the package.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Bev asks after a while of working in silence.

“Thought I needed a brain to have those.”

“Rich-”

He doesn’t let her finish. Grabs the closest water gun and sprays her in the arm. Bev hisses at the temperature contrast and stares at him with her mouth open in shock.

“You did not-” And because he’s a real asshole, he tries to hit her in the nose and ends up giving her a mouthful of water.

“Oh, shit.” It’s impossible to hold in the laughter, so he just crumbles, shaking and falling down to the grass on his back. Needless to say this spurs on a water fight between them, Bev wasting no time in reaching for one of cheap plastic guns and aiming it back at Richie.

They’re in the midst of getting up to escape each other’s aim when the fight is interrupted.

“Hey! Stop wasting ammo!”

Richie’s neck never cracked so loud before. He looks over and there he is, by Ben’s side.

“Ben! Happy birthday!” Bev exclaims and runs to hug him. Richie watches them from the corner of his eye while a staring contest begins between him and a shorter fella.

“You already wished me a happy birthday four times in school, Bev” Ben says with a laugh at the same time as Richie walks up to Eddie, who is looking at him with big eyes, pink cheeks, and a lip between his teeth.

“Hey.” Eddie says, soft and quiet.

“Hey yourself, Eds.” And it takes every bit of self-restrain not to grab his hand and kiss it. He steals a glance at the lovebirds a few steps away, sucking face enthusiastically. “That could be us right now.” He nudges Eddie with his elbow.

He expects more of a spluttering mess of words and cute blushing Eddie. “Who knows, maybe one day.” What he gets instead is a spluttering mess of words and stupidly red Richie.

His chin drops and he peers down at the boy at his side, who is pointedly avoiding looking back at him.

“Don’t get too excited, just trying to play your game.” Eddie mumbles between them.

“My game?”

“You know, you saying dumb stuff that makes me nervous.”

Richie doesn’t even try to hide his grin. “I think you get nervous just by me being there, I don’t even need to talk.”

That really makes Eddie blush, but he’s thankfully saved by the others approaching and dragging Ben around to see all the games they planned. Really playful things like tug of war, three legged racing, water fights, and so on. It was a way of keeping everyone moving, sweating, and entertained.

Thankfully, the hours go by without any suggestive comments or questions from the others and Richie forgets about his initial worries. They have fun, play all the games and get covered in grass stains during their three legged race tournaments. Then they rest by the sofa and the hammocks, eat a bunch of crap from Mike’s big picnic table turned into a food station and go back to playing like kids. Running around playing tag, catching their breaths in hiding spots, and wasting all the water balloons in less than 5 minutes. Most of the water guns end up breaking mid-fight, which leads Bill and Richie to use the garden hose and successfully drenching everyone in a blink of an eye. Mike wasn't pleased about it.

Later, they watch the sunset over the wheat fields of the farm and sing Ben a happy birthday under the golden light. Bev takes out a polaroid camera, Mike brings a homemade cake from the house, and Bill tries to play Richie’s guitar that was still stored in the barn. They ask him to play something for them, but Richie declines, so they go acappella and sing the wrong keys together. Richie lies down in one of the hammocks and feels wave after wave of happiness take over his body. It’s such an incredible feeling to be a part of something real, something so amazing as friendship and love.

He watches Bill lying on the ground and messing up the entire song by pretending to know how to play guitar. Looks at Stan, already changed into clean clothes and sitting on the couch, trying to make Bill stop, saying he’s ruining the song even though he himself refused to sing. Mike is sitting next to him on the couch, but backwards. Head hanging off of it and legs up in the air. Bev is down on the grass and leaning against the same tree Richie’s hammock is hanging off of. Ben is laying against her chest, cheeks so pink and smile so big Richie can’t fight off his own at the sight. They’re singing loudly and badly on purpose, laughing every few words.

When his eyes fall on Eddie, Richie realizes that the boy was already looking at him, probably for quite some time now if the soft expression on his face means anything. His head is resting on Mike’s chest, legs laying over the armrest, and he’s staring at Richie has if he had found all the answers to his questions. Richie doesn’t deserve it, he knows. But he decides to push those ugly thoughts away, he has something beautiful and worthy of stealing his attention, someone worth smiling for.

Their locked eyes swim and search from afar while the sky gets darker and the night takes over. The failed bonfire would be useful now, but the old school lanterns shared between them are enough to keep track of each other’s glowing gazes. They don’t seem to remember subtleness, but they’re just staring and their friends are singing, laughing and remembering past stories in the background.

Eddie struggles when he tries to get up, flinching at the necessary sit-up to leave the couch. All of them will be glued to their beds tomorrow with all the exercise they got today. Richie makes extra space in the hammock and helps Eddie get on it, back glued to his chest and a hug from behind. Eddie’s head falls in the space above Richie’s shoulder. And they observe their friends together in silence.

“Did you ever write a song about me?” Eddie speaks against the skin of Richie’s neck after some time. It brings out goose bumps and shivers, although that could also be from their damp clothes against the night air.

“I’ve tried.” Richie admits. He hugs Eddie’s body closer against his. “Never feels good enough.”

“I’m sure I’d love it, anyway.” Eddie tells him.

Richie chuckles and gets lost in his thoughts for a minute before talking again. “Maybe one day I’ll get it right.”

“Maybe.” Eddie agrees. “Will you play it for me?” He looks up at Richie with big eyes.

“Of course I will, Spaghetti.”

“I’ll be waiting, then.” After that, Eddie shuffles until he finds a comfortable position, the hammock sways from one side to the other as they sing along to whatever’s song they’re currently trying to play.

It’ll take a while until Richie figures out how to write a song about Eddie. For so long he’s tried to put his emotions onto paper, but every attempt feels wrong, every try feels far from reality. He doesn’t think words do any justice to how much you can love someone.

And later, he ends up following a different path.

Instead of trying to listen to his own brain, his own version of the story, Richie listens to Eddie’s. He lets him talk and cry for hours, holds him close. Hears about every struggle and battle Eddie fought alone. Struggles and battles he didn’t recognize as such, for he was so lost he couldn’t even understand his own feelings. How he’d cry without proper reasons, feel guilty over stares, pray he wouldn’t end up in hell, apologize to an empty bedroom on the nights he couldn’t sleep.

It seems to Richie that writing about Eddie doesn’t have to mean he’ll write about the way he feels for him. It can go many different ways. And the first way it goes ends up being double-sided, for which sentence tells two different stories: his and Eddie’s. And that’s the only way it feels right.

But he’ll worry about that later. For now, they stare at the sky.

I used to get on my knees And I'd pray for love To come find me someday For love to come meet me my way Your love hit like a brick to the face

And when I put up a fight You put me back in my place I thought I wasn't cut out for this race

You know how I feel You don't need a song But just in case

You're my lover boy, My “stay in bed under the cover” boy, My “only you and no other” boy, My face is red come smother me, boy.

Cause you’re my lover boy C’mon and meet my mother, boy You made me a little tougher, boy My life was black and white But now I see colour, boy

I used to fight things about me That were wrong, to me But then you came along And showed me Showed me where I was wrong So thank you 'Cause now I'm where I belong

You own my heart, You own my heart and it's no one else’s I fall apart And when I fall apart I'm no one else’s You own my heart You own my heart like no one else’s

Always yours

rooftop taglist: @richietoaster @rainydayriots @reddieloves @thetrashmouthclub @lemonboi03 @noodleboyshane @pillsandglasses @studpuffin @dandelion-stan @reddiesetrichie @squishynonbinarytwink @itschunky @burymestanding @duderrific @its-rye @salty-kaspbrak @youtubequeens @reddieseggrolls @addimagination @pastelstozier @sleepysirenprincess @constantreaderfool @mrs-vh @eds-trashmouth @reddieforlove

perma taglist: @constantreaderfool @mrs-vh @eds-trashmouth @girasol-eddie @reddieforlove @madi-personal @cheekaspbrak @fuck-the-sushi

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #stanley uris #mike hanlon #bill denbrough #it 2017 #it 2019 #fanfiction #writing #ao3

64 notes · View notes

shireness-says · 6 years ago

Text

If I Could See Your Face Once More (6/6)

Summary: This time, there’s no celebration at Granny’s when the latest crisis has been resolved. Instead, they’re left to deal with the body of Killian Jones. A 5B canon divergence where Killian dies in Camelot, never becoming a Dark One. Rated T for language. Also on AO3. ~1.2K. Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

A/N: Fluffy epilogue incoming! Thanks for keeping up with this, guys - I’ve treasured each and every comment and tag flail. I love you all. (But especially @snidgetsafan for beta-ing this).

This is the last chapter in the story, but you can bet your sweet ass that I have a ton of headcanons about this ‘verse. Come ask me about them, I’m always happy to spill all my secrets in the name of happy endings for everyone.

Tagging: @thejollyroger-writer, @profdanglaisstuff, @captainsjedi, @ultraluckycatnd, @superchocovian, @snowbellewells, @killianjones4ever82, @wellhellotragic, @ohmakemeahercules, @let-it-raines, @lifeinahole27, @kmomof4.

Thank you everyone for reading, and I’m so happy you loved this story the way I do!

His daughter enters the world at 2:03 on a Saturday morning, and makes all the clichés true.

She’s somehow the smallest thing he’s ever seen, her first cry the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard, and it’s by far the proudest moment of his life when it’s the sound of his voice that is able to calm his tiny, stressed and disoriented infant as the nurses clean her up and tend to Emma. All at once, it’s like there’s a corner of his heart that he never knew existed, that had been shut up for years, that is suddenly there and open and exploding with love for this tiny human being he’s known for a matter of minutes. In short, he’s emotional and entirely unprepared and ecstatic.

They name her Charlotte Leigh Jones, her middle name for his brother (for even if Emma and Liam hadn’t entirely seen eye to eye, she knows, has seen how much he meant to Killian). Her first name is one of the very few that was both classic enough for Killian and modern enough for Emma. Whale wants to keep her in the hospital for a few days just to be sure that nothing’s the matter, between her Dark One conception and prenatal trip to the Underworld, but as far as they can tell, she seems to be a perfectly healthy infant - seven pounds, one ounce, and nineteen inches long, with one hell of a set of lungs. She has a tuft of dark hair on her head and eyes that aren’t quite his blue and aren’t quite Dave’s, that he thinks will one day be Emma’s lovely green. Poor lass has his ridiculous pointy ears, but Emma’s chin and a nose that still might be either one of theirs. Her head is somewhat pointed, but he’s been assured that this will go away, and frankly, he’ll adore her and find her perfect regardless. Overall, Killian thinks she’s the most beautiful child he’s ever seen, and he still can’t believe that such a little beauty is his .

(When they finally lay the baby down and Emma finally gets to sleep sometime around 3:30, he has to take a moment in the attached bathroom to have his own private breakdown. After so many years in the darkness, after dying killed - twice - and sent to the Underworld, it’s so hard to believe that he can deserve this, that he’s not going to wake up from what must be a wonderful dream. It’s not just him anymore, and he’s terrified – terrified that he’ll somehow hurt his precious lass, that he’ll fail Emma and Charlotte, that he’ll fall back into the darkness again. It’s all so much, and four months was not nearly enough to prepare for this, and he can feel the panic mounting –

But then he hears Charlotte start to quietly fuss in the other room, and it’s suddenly so easy to set his fears aside in favor of soothing any worries or problems his little love might have.)

The morning had been full of visitors, nearly from the moment visiting hours had opened. Henry had been thrilled of course, and Killian now has more photos on his phone of Henry holding the baby (of his two children, of his son holding his daughter) than he ever thought he would. He wasn’t surprised to see Snow tear up, but Dave had been much the same, turning into a cooing fool when the tiny girl was placed in his arms. Then again, David has fawned over his daughter every moment of her existence; it’s probably not shocking he’s already started doing the same for his little granddaughter. Since then, it seems like half the town has trooped through. Granny had stopped by with a soft knitted blanket, much like Emma’s own, but edged in green. Belle promptly burst into tears when they asked her to be the godmother; in only another two months, he’s sure they’ll be back here to welcome Belle’s own little one. Regina looks oddly comfortable with Charlotte for someone known as the Evil Queen, even affectionate; then again, she does have years of experience caring for Henry and now her niece. Robin himself is as happy as if the baby were his own (“Oh, you and Vera shall be the best of friends, isn’t that right, Princess?”). There are far too many dwarves visiting for Killian’s personal taste, and he suspects Emma’s as well, but there is something entertaining about the look of panic on Leroy’s face when he takes a turn holding Charlotte. It’s the little amusements in life.

But now, it’s just him and his little girl in the hospital nursery while Emma gets some much deserved rest under her still cooing father’s watchful eye. He knows it’s only a temporary lull; Snow had left on a tear to apparently bring half the baby’s wardrobe back and probably the house along with it, and would likely be back in the next couple hours, and Granny had promised to return later with Charlotte’s name stitched on the blanket she had made. Now, however, is a quiet moment to realign himself with his new reality, and get down to the business of getting to know his tiny girl. Of course, the matter is somewhat hindered by her determination to sleep in between meals, but for now, he’s content to simply have her little body propped against his chest, hand stroking her back and stump supporting her little bum. She’s still so soft and squishy, and the tubes and wires monitoring her little body scare him to pieces, but he’s also discovered in the past hour that she already sneezes (babies sneeze, how did he not know babies sneeze, and he can’t help but find adorable how her entire body jerks with the force of that effort while still fretting about whether the blanket is covering her properly), she tries to burrow into his chest the same way her mama does, especially now that he’s unbuttoned his shirt to give her contact with his warm skin, and apparently is very taken with his pirate’s luck if her surprisingly tight grip on the chain is anything to go by.

Even as he ponders, he can feel her waking up. Emma just fed her not too long ago, so hopefully she’s simply got her nap out finally and the attention from her loving papa will keep her content. It shouldn’t be that hard; so far, as much as anyone can tell from knowing her a matter of hours, she’s a quiet little thing, largely content to simply observe all the faces and things happening around her and try to soak them all in and only fussing when she’s hungry or needs changing. Even then, it’s only a series of snuffles instead of the outraged screaming Killian remembers from babysitting Vera and little Neal, like she doesn’t want to make too big a deal about the whole thing.

As she starts trying to squirm against his chest, Killian shifts Charlotte to be cradled in his arms instead of propped on his bare chest, and is rewarded by her eyes searching for him. He knows it’s too early to get a smile out of her, but he’s already so excited for that milestone. For now, just watching her eyes settle on his grin feels like the greatest treasure.

“Hello, my darling,” he whispers down at her as his thumb strokes her chubby little cheek. “I’m so happy you’re here. Papa loves you so very much.”

She’s his second chance, his happy ending, and Killian doesn’t intend to waste a single moment.

#cs ff #captain swan #my writing #If I Could See Your Face Once More #chapter 6 #epilogue #with a very sweet baby

54 notes · View notes

thenovelartist · 6 years ago

Text

Catalyst, Chapter 3

For @miraculouspaon

<<< Previous Next>>> AO3 Fanfiction

“I gave up the miraculous.”

Nathalie dropped her tablet. His confession wasn’t out of the blue. No; she’d commented on how he’s changed. The way he altered his every schedule to include more time for Adrien and his activities had proved it. But this…

She hadn’t suspected…

“When?”

“About six weeks ago.”

Nathalie blinked once again. “I…”

Not often did she find herself so speechless. This was one of those rare occasions.

“I did it for you,” he eventually said. “You have to know.”

Her heart picked up its pace in a way that scared her. The heat on her cheeks was uncomfortable, causing her to worry about if he could see it or not. “What about Adrien?”

Gabriel’s gaze hit the floor. “I… It became apparent just how much I had failed him, just as I had failed you.” His gaze returned to hers, the blue of his eyes surprisingly intense. “You were my catalyst.”

Her heart beat double-time. Her breath was coming in short bursts. Her cheeks warmed.

And that all worsened when Gabriel reached for her hand. “I have the feeling you wouldn’t be so willing to restore that trust in me after being hurt, no matter how unintentionally I meant it. But I will continue to prove to you that I won’t hurt you this time. Never again.”

With that, he pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles that made her immediately want to throw caution to the wind. But for now, she’d pretend she had everything together. “Thank you, sir.”

“Nathalie.”

“Sir,” she repeated. “As you so eloquently put, I have yet to be willing to return the trust to you that you have broken. I knew better than letting you have that trust in the first place. Give me time to be willing to give it again.”

His eyes closed momentarily as a frown tugged his lips downward. “I understand, Nathalie,” he assured, giving her hand a squeeze. He looked back up at her, his gaze intense. “And I suppose it is by my own actions that I must wait.” He let go of her hand and took a step back. “I’ll be in my office. Can you please send me the reports I need?”

“Of course, sir,” she said, turning back to her own desk.

She waited until he completely disappeared from sight before allowing her ridged posture to fall. She took her glasses off, which meant she could lay her head on her arms more comfortably. And she gave herself a long moment to compose herself before straightening and getting back to work.

…

“I don’t know about this, Father.”

“Trust me,” Gabriel assured. “You are never going to know for a fact that she dislikes you if you do not ask her.”

“But are you sure this is a good idea?”

“I think it is long overdue.”

Adrien frowned as he turned to look out the window.

Gabriel placed his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Adrien, from what you have told me about Miss Dupain-Cheng, she is not the kind of girl who would play with your feelings intentionally. Ask her, Adrien. You will never know otherwise.”

Adrien turned back to him, nervousness clear on his expression.

Gabriel sighed. He supposed this was his doing. When he made the decision to shelter Adrien, he did not expect the consequence to be causing a seventeen-year-old boy to be terrified to ask out a girl who clearly had a crush on him.

“Adrien,” Gabriel said. He had caused this,meaning he was going to have to fix it, even if it took extreme measures. “I understand your predicament.”

“With mom?” Adrien asked.

Gabriel sighed, then glanced toward the driver. “You never heard any of this, Arthur,” he pointedly commented.

The man grunted his affirmation.

He turned back to Adrien. “Do you remember when you asked if I would ever consider dating again?”

Adrien nodded, his head cocked in confusion.

“Well,” Gabriel said. “There is a woman I…” he cleared his throat. “That I may see a future with.”

Adrien’s eyes widened.

“And I did not know her feelings,” he continued. “Until I asked her.”

“And?” Adrien pressed.

Gabriel pursed his lips. “She gave me her answer.”

Adrien frowned as his brow knit together. “That doesn’t sound very convincing.”

“It wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear,” Gabriel admitted. “But she didn’t tell me ‘no’ either. The point being, Adrien, that you will never know a woman’s feelings unless you ask. If she tells you no, then no matter how hard it is, you must respect it. If she is rude, then she gave you her true character, and no woman like that is worth pursuing.”

Even though he still looked nervous, Adrien gave him a nod. “Understood, father.”

“Finally,” Gabriel continued. “If she gives you the difficult answer of a ‘maybe’ then you must be careful in your pursuit of her. I believe I’ve given you enough advice for you to navigate that minefield. But if I haven’t, I hope that you would be comfortable coming to me to ask.”

Slowly, a soft smile crossed Adrien’s face. “I will.”

Gabriel gave his son a smile, one that was a mix of proud and happy. “Now, you best go get your answer from Miss Dupain-Cheng. Like I have said before, a woman will not wait for you forever.”

While still nervous, Adrien grabbed his bag and hopped out of the car. “Thank you, Father.”

“Have a good day, son.”

“You, too, Father.” With that, Adrien shut the car door and headed off toward the school.

Gabriel smiled, but it was bittersweet. His son had grown up, old enough to pursue a woman and nearly old enough to be on his own. When had that even happened? It was as though just yesterday, Adrien was toddling around the mansion.

With a sigh, Gabriel sank back into his seat. “Take me home, Arthur.” He’d find something else to occupy his time than fussing over nothing.

…

Nathalie smiled as Adrien talked all about his girlfriend on the way home. It had been like this for two weeks now, but it wasn’t obnoxious. Nathalie could tell that Marinette was really good for Adrien, and from what Nathalie could tell, Adrien was good for Marinette, too.

“So I’ve been meaning to ask,” Adrien said, rubbing the back of his neck. “If, since I’m free on Thursday night, if I could take Marinette out… on a date.”

Nathalie looked over her shoulder at Gabriel.

“Yes, you may. Nathalie, please put that in Adrien’s schedule.”

“Of course, sir.”

It gave her a hint of satisfaction every time she addressed him as such. She’d noticed that the title irritated him ever so slightly. But she couldn’t use his name. Not yet. Not until she was ready to take that step.

And he knew it.

She turned back to the front, away from him. One day, she would give in. She couldn’t hold out much longer. Her heart wouldn’t allow it.

…

“Should I get her flowers? I don’t know. Maybe? Plagg, help.”

Nathalie chuckled. She really shouldn’t be listening outside Adrien’s door, but she couldn’t help it. The poor boy had been frazzled ever since he’d confirmed Marinette accepted his offer to go out on Thursday. And while Gabriel had tried to help, Nathalie knew the man could only offer so much advice.

She knocked before entering. “Adrien?”

He paused his ranting to the little plush cat that he kept on his bed. Likely given to him by Miss Dupain-Cheng herself some couple years ago. “Come in, Nathalie.”

She entered, Adrien standing with his shoulders tight and back rigid with his hands in his pockets.

“I couldn’t help but overhear your plight,” she began.

Adrien’s eyes widened.

Nathalie gave him a soft smile. “Take a seat,” she coaxed.

While clearly uncertain, Adrien did as directed.

Nathalie took a seat beside him and waited a moment for him to relax. “Women like being romanced,” she began.

At that, Adrien’s eyes widened at her while his jaw fell unhinged.

Nathalie smiled and gave him a nod. “Women like knowing that a man cares, whether in the big things or the small. Women also like knowing that a man is able to care for them.”

After a moment, Adrien’s gaze fell to the floor. “She’s strong enough to handle herself, though,” he said.

“That doesn’t mean we don’t like when a man cares for us,” Nathalie clarified.

Adrien’s gaze returned to her.

“Most—if not nearly all—women like having a shelter,” she explained. “We like having a person who cares for us. A strong woman is no different in that respect. Don’t mistake coddling and protection for ‘shelter’. While there are times a strong woman wants that, too, it’s not the sort of shelter we constantly require. Strong women need a support pillar. We like knowing that the man we let into our lives is there to encourage us. We need a place to escape when the world gets the better of us. We like knowing that a man is there to care for us in that respect.” She shot him a smile. “We also appreciate when a man cares for us as in making sure we’re fed or that things are in order so we don’t have to handle them.”

Adrien smiled.

“So,” Nathalie continued. “Prove to her that you can be her equal. That you are her support. That you have her back and are by her side and sometimes are leading her along. If she’s a good woman, Adrien, you’ll find she will do the same for you.”

Adrien’s gaze sank to the floor once again, but Nathalie watched him let her words sink in.

“That all being said,” Nathalie added. “Most—if not nearly all—women like being pursued. The thoughtful gestures mean the most. In the case of ‘should you or should you not get flowers,’ I would suggest that you should, but be considerate when you do. Do you know her favorite? Do you know if she likes certain colors? Does she happen to know meanings of them? Or did a certain flower or bouquet make you think of her. Think of those things in your quest to get her flowers.”

“You make it sound difficult,” Adrien commented.

“Falling in love with someone is easy,” Nathalie said. “Caring for that love so that it does not wither or die is not. But the greatest things in life are not easy, Adrien. If they are, you should be looking for the catch.”

Adrien’s lips pursed in thought. Slowly, his eyes lit up and a smile spread across his face. “I got it,” he said decisively, standing from his seat. “Thanks, Nathalie.”

“Adrien,” she called out, causing him to pause.

“Yes?”

She smiled. “I’m happy for you.”

Adrien’s smile lit up the room like the sunshine. He turned around to hustle back over to her, only to wrap his arms around her in an awkward sort of hug.

It took a moment for Nathalie to return it.

“Thank you, Nathalie,” he said. “For everything.”

Her smile grew as she settled into the hug. “You’re welcome, Adrien.”

They stayed a short moment longer before Adrien removed himself and scrambled out the door.

Nathalie stayed sitting for a while longer, smiling at the door Adrien had disappeared out of. Eventually, she pulled herself together, recalling she did have other work that needed to be done. She stood and walked from the room.

Only to get the shock of her life when she nearly ran into Gabriel when she walked outside the door.

“Sorry,” he quickly apologized.

She gave her racing heart a moment to calm before dropping her hand from her chest and looking up at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t help but listen in the conversation,” he admitted. “I was going to talk with Adrien myself, but it seems as though you beat me to it.”

“I’m sorry I interrupted time with your son, then.”

“Don’t be,” he said. “I think that it was good for him to receive such advice from a female and not his father.”

“I didn’t tell him anything special.”

“Of course not. But it was still good advice.”

Nathalie shrugged. “Is there anything you would like me to do, sir?”

Gabriel frowned. “One thing,” he said.

Nathalie quirked a brow. “And?”

“Tell me,” he began, and the way his eyes locked on hers suddenly had her fearing for her heart. “How long have you held onto those words?”

Her breath hitched, and her heart started picking up its pace again. “What do you mean?”

“I mean your tone was far too sincere for something you thought out logically.”

“It is all logical.”

“I never said it wasn’t logical. But your tone proved it wasn’t a purely impassive speech.” He quirked a brow. “Those were words you’ve held onto for some time.”

She begged her heart to calm down and her hands to stop sweating. “What are you implying?”

Gabriel paused, clearly finding the right words. “Have you ever been in a relationship, Nathalie? Or have you always told yourself you don’t need one?”

Nathalie quirked a brow, hating just how close his shot in the dark hit to the truth.

“You’re a very logical person,” Gabriel continued. “Very capable of anything you set your mind to. Very capable of working under harsh conditions and keeping a level head. But if I were to guess, your logic got the better of you and you never pursued a romantic relationship.”

She was silent for a while, begging her mind to formulate a response. “I never thought it necessary,” she finally stated. “People can live a perfectly fulfilling life without a relationship.”

“You don’t believe that.”

She fought the urge to bite her lip. “Not now.”

Gabriel hummed, his expression softening. He reached for her hand, carefully taking hold of it and lifting it to his lips in order to press a reverent kiss to her knuckles. “My feelings have not changed,” he whispered. “But I will not push. You have made your stance perfectly clear, and I will be patiently awaiting the day you are ready.”

Nathalie held his gaze for the longest time. “Give me time,” she returned, her gaze falling as her cheeks heated up. “To trust myself to fall again.”

“Be assured, I will catch you this time.”

“Catching me isn’t the issue.”

Gabriel frowned. “Fair enough,” he said. “And that is solely my fault.”

“I knew better in the first place.”

“I still failed you,” he countered. “In every way imaginable. It is solely my fault.”

Nathalie was silent. They stood there a moment longer before Nathalie squeezed his hand and retracted hers from his grasp.

“I hope one day I prove myself to you,” Gabriel said. “But despite what I wish, I know that day is not anytime soon.”

Nathalie sighed. “Keep this up,” she said. “And it will be… Gabriel.”

And she walked away quickly before he could respond.

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #Gabenath #gabriel agreste #nathalie sancoeur #adrien agreste #implied adrienette #Dating advice #this will go over well

86 notes · View notes

farfromthstars · 6 years ago

Text

annual writing self-evaluation

All answers should be about works published in 2018.

tagged by: @sarcathlon, thank you angela <3 <3

i. Optional if applicable: link to last year’s self evaluation:

N/A

1. List of works published this year (in the order that they were posted):

fallingforyou [hendes]

was hoping i could get lost in your paradise [hendes]

at the end of the road, i see you with me [ziall]

i don’t wanna pretend (that you’re only my friend) [nick x niall]

things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear [ziall]

things you said when we were on top of the world [ziall]

things you said when you were drunk [hendes]

things you said when you were scared [nick x niall]

things you said that made me feel like shit [ziall]

things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear [nick x niall]

things you said after you kissed me & things you said with no space between us [nessie]

things you said that slipped out while you were busy with something else [ziall]

things you said after you kissed me [ziall]

things you said when you were crying [nick x niall]

things you said too quietly [nick x niall]

things you said at 1am [ziall]

the best is yet to come [nick x niall]

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

i don’t wanna pretend (that you’re only my friend), because it was my first nick/niall fic and also the first longer fic i worked on in a while, even though i ended up posting it later in the year. plus, i just really like some of the things i wrote for it.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

i wouldn’t say i’m not proud of at the end of the road because it’s the longest thing i’ve written in years and i’m happy with large parts of it, but i’m a little disappointed with myself for having to abandon the big plans i had for it. idk, i wanted to do so much more than what i ended up with? so yeah, the whole writing process could’ve gone better.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

from i don’t wanna pretend (that you’re only my friend):

“Now kiss!” Liv shouts eventually, and Nick and Niall both freeze.

“Yes,” Jane agrees with her daughter though, “take one of those typical couple shots! That’ll be funny in your costumes!”

Liv’s gone over to chanting “kiss, kiss, kiss!” at them, and she’s somehow got a full glass of wine again. Niall bursts out laughing looking at her and then says to Nick, “Let’s just do it.”

“What?” Nick asks incredulously, then lowers his voice even more. “I promised you no snogging.”

“It’s just a little kiss,” he says, “if anything it’ll make us even more believable.”

“What are you waiting for?” Jane asks, and she’s now got a glass again too. “I’m growing roots over here!”

She and Liv cackle and clink glasses and Niall tells them, “he’s just shy in front of you guys! We’re doing it, right, Nick?”

“If you’re sure it’s okay,” Nick whispers, and Niall sighs deeply, grabs Nick’s face between his hands and pulls him into position.

“Yes, I told you,” he says, and closes the distance between them.

He knows immediately why this was a terrible idea. Nick’s lips soften under his, kissing him back, and his arms go around Niall’s back, pulling him closer.

Niall follows blindly, lifting up on his tiptoes and sliding one hand from Nick’s jaw to the back of his head, knocking his hat askew.

This was a terrible idea because Niall’s not gonna be able to stop thinking about this, never in his life, he’s sure of it. It was a terrible idea because he’s gonna want to do it again. Kissing Nick is everything Niall would’ve imagined if he’d ever allowed himself to imagine.

They pull apart, and Nick blinks at him for a few seconds before taking a step back. Niall’s dropped the impressive paper moustache he’d been holding in front of his face for the first few pictures at some point, even though he can’t remember when it happened. He swallows, then turns to Liv and Jane with a grin. “Got any good ones?”

5. Share or describe a favorite comment you received:

oh, i genuinely love every single one of them, my heart literally jumps every time i get an email notification about a comment on one of my fics :’) @sarcathlon and @queerlyalex are particularly good at picking out things they liked which i LOVE, ao3 user musiciansfriend (who are youuu) comments on like everything i write and is just wonderful, but honestly? every comment is my favourite

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

most of it? lol (no but there was this time when i was unemployed and travelling lots for 3 months and every time i sat down to write there was just. nothing.)

7. A scene or character that you wrote that surprised you:

probably nick, actually. he’s made appearances in my fics before but never as a main character and it’s been so much fun figuring out how to write him

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

i hope i learn something new with everything i write but idk if i grew...maybe in my determination to write despite the writer’s block

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

finally move past the writer’s block that’s been hanging over my head for two years. improve my show-don’t-tell. write more unpredictably.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

well, @thinkimfromspace is the reason i finished my longest fic of the year, and @spaceziall is the best cheerleader i could ask for, @sarcathlon boosts my ego in the nicest way. every person who comments on fics or encourages me while i’m writing or when i’m gearing up to do so (includes headcanoning with @mustbeseeingblind @actualhumansunshine and @hiatusniall among others) has been a positive influence, and i wouldn’t be able to do it without you <3

11. Anything in your real life show up in your writing this year:

my anxiety almost inevitably shows up in all my niall characterisations, and maybe the uncertainty about the future in at the end of the road?

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

i don’t think i’ve ever had any wisdom to share skhfjd

13. Any new projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

always, and very rarely planned. i have a hendes AU in the works that i really want to finish, and everything else is probably just gonna happen someway. my inspiration strikes very randomly lol

14. Tag three writers/artists whose answers you’d like to read:

@spaceziall @hiatusniall and @theflicker, but also anyone else who writes and wants to do this

#apparently today is the day i do these writing things #oh well here we go #the gist of this is that i'm incredibly thankful to anyone who's ever said a nice word about my writing thank you so much <3 #tag meme #p #annual writing self-evaluation

11 notes · View notes

messifangirl · 6 years ago

Text

Cressi Rec List (Lionel Messi/Cristiano Ronaldo Football RPF)

Now that the world cup is over, it appears that there are many new football fans interested in this pairing! I’ve made a few rec lists before (so if you’ve seen them, some of these fics may be familiar to you), but it’s been some time since then (some of those fics are deleted or the authors go by different names now etc), so here’s a list of some of my favorite complete Cressi fic posted on AO3 for anyone who is interested.

Listed alphabetically by author and title. I’ve included the story summary, word count, rating, year posted on AO3, and a few keywords. If you check them out, please don’t forget to leave kudos and comments! (And of course, these are far from the only fics out there for this pairing--check out the Leo/Cris tag on AO3--there are a ton of fics! I just tried to narrow it down to some of my personal favorites. 57 to be exact.)

Nice Day (For A White Wedding) by acchikocchi (2011)

Leo's the one eloping with Cristiano Ronaldo, so why is it up to Cesc to make sure nothing goes wrong? And what kind of elopement has an afterparty, anyway?

Words: 7681, rating: general, about: crack fic, humor, weddings, love

Tactical Decoy by acchikocchi (2014)

"Don't worry," Gerard said. "If he stands you up I'll kill him."

Words; 631, status, rating: general, about: humor, friendship, first dates

like sparklers on guy fawkes night by arachnestomb (2015)

No one knows exactly how it works, but when you meet your soulmate, you glow. Leo’s seen it happen in front of him. When he was a kid, he saw two people crash into each other--literally, crash--and then they went up in lights. He thought for a second her chest might burst open like a firework, that’s how bright it was. He was only four years old, but it was beautiful. He dreamed that it’d happen to him someday.

Cristiano’s never actually seen two soulmates glow. He saw a recreation of it some animator created for the sake of education. He saw someone compare the sparklers he lit on Guy Fawkes’ Night to the lights of two soulmates coming together. He doesn’t understand what’s so cool about it, honestly, and if it’s going to happen he only hopes it isn’t someone he hates.

Words: 2880, rating: teen and up, about: soulmates

A Sort of Idea by awkwardsorta (2012)

Because: I get bored at work; Cesc takes a lot of attention from some of Messi's best looking-after people; Ronaldo can totally spot an isolated star; and Kaka's just nice.

Words: 1322, rating: general, about: picnics, friendship

The Ice Bucket Challenge by bethepuck (2014)

Cristiano Ronaldo is nominated to complete the ice bucket challenge and nominates none other than Lionel Messi to do the same.

Words: 4244, rating: not rated (prob explicit), about: smut, top Cris

O Leãozinho by bethepuck (2014)

Lionel Messi, unexpectedly, is traded to Real Madrid, for vague reasonings and is forced to leave his home, adjust to a new team, and face his greatest rival.

Words: 44468, rating: not rated (prob mature), about: transfers, Messi to Madrid, teammates, smut, top Cris, love

We Could Be "A Thing" by bethepuck (2015)

Lionel Messi transfers high schools from Bishop Stamford to Illyria Prep and receives some, at first, unwanted attention as the wealthy and popular Cristiano Ronaldo does anything to get Leo into bed.

Words: 27487, rating: not rated (prob mature), about: high school au, rivalry, smut, top Cris, love

Like A Hurricane by carolinka (2015)

I am just a dreamer, but you are just a dream,

You could have been anyone to me.

(Apparently students in Madrid and Barcelona need to bond. Via internet.)

Words: 31852, rating: mature, about: epistolary, humor, high school au, love

See you through by couldvelovedyou (2015)

Cristiano gets injured in the Clásico and is out for the rest of the season. Leo helps him through.

Words: 5040, rating: teen and up, about: injuries, friendship

Wake Up Calls by detodores (chasingnukes) (2016)

kink meme prompt:

"Cristiano wakes up one morning and rolls over to see Leo still naked next to him from the sex they had the night before. Leo is still sleeping but Cristiano is getting so horny seeing him laying on his stomach, his ass totally exposed that he can't help himself. Cristiano starts rimming a still sleeping Leo. Leo eventually wakes up at the feeling and then they decide to do it again."

Words: 1409, rating: explicit, about: smut, top Cris

but if you want me by dizzydancing (2016)

Cristiano walks away (again) because he needs to regain a sense of control. He needs to regain the fragments of sanity and restraint that seem to slip away whenever he loses himself to the sensation of Leo’s soft lips under his.

Leo doesn't follow. He never does. Cristiano should be used to it, but his heart still sinks every time.

Words: 8394, rating: teen and up, about: friendship, relationships, friends with benefits, rivalry, love

one is the loneliest number by Flywoman (2012)

Sometimes no one understands you like your greatest rival. Set immediately after Portugal's elimination from the 2010 World Cup.

Words: 3030, rating: mature, about: WC 2010, Portugal Nt, Argentina Nt, hurt/comfort, smut, sex, top Cris

no is the saddest experience by Flywoman (2014)

Lionel Messi visits Cristiano Ronaldo after Portugal fail to make it out of the group stage at World Cup 2014. A sort of sequel to one is the loneliest number.

Words: 1805, rating: mature, about WC 2014, Portugal Nt, Argentina Nt, hurt/comfort, smut

it's just no good anymore by Flywoman (2015)

His countrymen have never loved him, but his greatest rival just might. A sequel to one is the loneliest number and no is the saddest experience, but all you really need to know is that this is not a first-time fic.

Warning for rough (consensual) sex.

Words: 3548, rating: mature, about: CA 2015, Argentina Nt, hurt/comfort, hurt/comfort, smut, top Cris

Coming Out by footielover (2015)

Cristiano Ronaldo and Lionel Messi have been quietly dating for a few months. Then a paparazzo takes some rather intimate pictures of them and all hell breaks loose.

Words: 61599, rating: explicit, about: relationships, friendship, family, smut, coming out, top Leo

Don't fall in love with a superhero by Guessmysoul (2017)

Cristiano Ronaldo, a handsome, intelligent and a charismatic young man could have any man he pleased; except, his attention was consume by a little shy boy with a surprising intelligence, and Spider-Man his saviour in moments of distress. Why did he had to fell for both and not being corresponded?

Words: 10991, rating: teen and up, about: friendship, love, superhero au

everything will fill with light by haroldslouis (2015)

The one where Cristiano falls in love with his son's nanny, Leo, and Sergio Ramos is there because he signed up for the drama.

Words: 27135, rating: mature, about: nanny au, kid fic, love, smut, top Cris

rains, pours (i'll be there for you) by highways (2014)

Winning isn't constant, but maybe something, someone, always is. (post Copa del Rey final, 2014)

Words: 1352, rating: not rated (prob teen and up), about: CdR 2014, love

the boiling point by highways (2014)

Leo's always preferred boys, but he's never had a type until stepping into high school, never really cared for what kind of boy he liked until he suddenly did, wanted to be fucked in the locker rooms by the basketball captain, face pressed against the sting of the cold metal doors, back arching and moulding to the flit of someone's fingers down his spine.

aka, the one where Cristiano's the MVP basketball captain and Leo is essentially a nobody.

Words: 12471, rating: mature, about: high school au, basketball au, relationships, bullying, smut, top Cris, love

Sweethearts: Alfajores by keep_it_fresh

Non-canon. AU-ish. Tween-fic. Middle School (12/13). It takes a team for Lio to not only realize he has a crush but also to snag to his guy.

[Cressi Week 2017: Day 1 - First Times]

Words: 2297, rating: general, about: middle school au, first crush, teen love

Sweethearts: Milk Bones by keep_it_fresh (2017)

Non-canon/AU-ish. Cris wakes up to find an unexpected visitor trapped in his backyard.

[Cressi Week 2017: Day 2 - Identity]

Words: 3513, rating: teen and up, about: shapeshifter au, animals, relationships, love

A Supernatural Love (Cause Love is What You Want) by kkslover9 (2016)

The one where Cristiano and Lionel are dukes vying for the attention of a princess but Cristiano ends up cursed to love his rival instead.

Words: 6056, rating: teen and up, about: magical au, royalty au, fairy tale, love

Let Me Drive You Down the Love Street by kkslover9 (2017)

Cristiano is as surprised as anyone when he ends up on the same team as Lionel Messi. It's not the challenge he's used to but he's ready for it, to take Major League Soccer by storm with a new team and a new partnership.

Words: 20187, rating: explicit, about: MLS, teammates, friendship, slow burn, love, sex, no clear top

I Won’t Bite (Unless That’s What You Like) by kkslover9 (2017)

"Leo licks his lips. He wants it so badly, to sink his fangs into Cristiano’s neck and drink from him and Cristiano knows it."

Words: 6065, rating: explicit, about: vampire au, semi-prostitution, blood, smut, top Cris

You Got to Know (That Everyone Falls) by kkslover9 (2017)

Everyone is born with a soul mark but not everyone gets to keep it. It's been two years since Leo's soul mark burned itself off the inside of his left wrist. With encouragement from his mother and his best friend, Kun, he starts attending a support group for those who have lost their soul marks. Here he meets the confident and charismatic Cristiano who has been without a soul mark since birth. As they become closer, Leo realises that Cristiano has insecurities of his own. Can they overcome their vulnerabilities or will their doubts break them once and for all?

Words: 10840, rating: teen and up, about: soulmate au, soulmarks, loss, relationships, sex, love

you smiled and then the spell was cast by kkslover9 (2018)

Cristiano was Leo's first kiss and first boyfriend but then he moved away. Now nine years later, he's back and Leo finds himself drawn to his childhood friend once more.

Words: 24935, rating: explicit, about: New York au, ex-boyfriends, relationships, crushes, childhood friends

Best Player by LeoDios (2015)

Cristiano grudgingly goes to the UEFA Best Player in Europe Award ceremony. He wants to have a drink with Leo Messi, but for that he has to visit him in his hotel suite.

Words: 24781, rating: explicit, about: award shows, lots of smut, top Cris, love, injuries, relationships

Who is he? by LeoDios (2015)

Wow. Just wow.

This isn't the first time someone cornered him and told him he just had to watch this incredible video of Leo Messi. It is pretty annoying any time it happens.

This time it's Sergio, grinning and practically jumping up and down like a kid at a birthday party all hopped up on cake.

This isn't just any video though. He can feel Sergio's eyes on him, drinking in his reaction gleefully. Cris feels his face going hot, red hot.

Words: 4279, rating: not rated (prob explicit), about: smut, top Leo

In the Wake of Loss by luxover (2012)

Leo opens the door and Cristiano is standing there, leaning against the doorjamb like he does it all the time, like it’s normal for him to just swing by. Leo’s confused; he doesn’t even know Cristiano, not really, not in the ways that count, and certainly not enough for them to hang out.

Words: 7706, rating: mature, smut, rivalry, relationships, humor, love

Day 1: Firsts by MADR1D1SMO (2017)

Leo goes through the text slowly. He can recognise some of the pictures - the famous photo of them standing together in their countries’ colours before the international in Switzerland, the ones from the Ballon d’Or Gala.

There are a lot of firsts.

It doesn’t have the most important firsts, though, he thinks.

Words: 5028, rating: general, about: first meetings, rivalry, friendship, humor

Day 2: Identity by MADR1D1SMO (2017)

After taking a hard blow to the head during a game against Espanyol, Leo wakes up with amnesia. The person who helps him remember is the least one anybody could expect it to be.

Words: 13484, rating: general, about: amnesia, injuries, teammates, friendship, possible love

Day 3: Other Worlds by MADR1D1SMO

There’s a world where Cris plays for Madrid and Leo for Barça, the one we all know and love. There’s also another world, where CR7 and D10S are the deadliest duo in football history playing for the best club in the world. What happens if one day, the two of them switch places?

Words: 15341, rating: general, about: parallel universe au, injuries, teammates, friendship, possible love

Day 5: Time by MADR1D1SMO (2017)

During a Clásico match Leo gets a severe career-ending injury after which he would never be able to play again. Cristiano doesn’t realise how much competition is important for him until it’s gone. He gets one chance to go back in time and try to prevent the injury, but will Leo believe him when he tries to warn him?

Words: 11619, rating: general, about: time travel au, injuries, award shows, teammates, friendship, possible love

nice for what by nahco3 (2018)

“Who are you and how did you get this number?” Ronaldo says, instead of a greeting.

“It’s me,” Leo says, momentarily taken aback. He hasn’t had to introduce himself for years.

“Um, Leo Messi.”

“You know, if this is a prank call, it isn’t very original,” Ronaldo says.

Words: 4006, rating: explicit, about: WC 2018, Portugal Nt, Argentina Nt, angst, hurt/comfort, smut

the best you ever had by nahco3 (2011)

five times Leo Messi surprised Cristiano Ronaldo.

Words: 2044, rating: teen and up, about: award shows, humor, transfers, sex

Okay? Okay. Okay... by Nina22783 (2014)

It's been nearly four years since Lionel Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo have been together and a BBC journalist finally gets them both to tell the world how it all happened...

Words: 24469, rating: mature, about: WC 2014, coming out, kid fic, injuries, smut, top Cris, family, relationships, friendship, WC 2018 au

Flesh by orphan_account (AM) (2015)

"I was wondering where you were hiding", Ronaldo said, voice getting on Leo's every nerve as the man invaded his personal space. There was a lot of that on the pitch but Leo felt uncomfortable now, dressed in his suit with his hip pressed against the counter. "I'm not hiding", Leo bit back, doing his best to retain his monotone but ultimately failing. He could tell by the way Ronaldo's lips curved and he confidently stepped even closer.

Words: 5735, rating: explicit, about: award shows, smut, top Cris, dub con, hotels

I Think We Made A Sex Tape? by orphan_account (AM) (2015)

The prequel.

Words: 3998, rating: explicit, about: smut, sex tapes, drunk sex, rough sex, top Cris

If This Were A Movie by orphan_account (AM) (2015)

"How about you text him to explain then?", Leo asked, stifling a yawn in his hand. "I haven't text him since like... May", Higuain whined, reminding Leo that he captained a bunch of overgrown children. "How about you give him my number and I send him a text then?", Leo prompted, shocked and annoyed by his own proposal.

Words: 16222, rating: teen and up, about: injuries, friendship, hurt/comfort, fluff

Playing With Fire by orphan_account (AM) (2015)

"You're whatever I want you to be", Leo replied easily, "and it's sir".

Words: 38495, rating: explicit, about: bodyguard au, guns, violence, powerstruggle, dub con, smut, ust, top Cris

The Re-Enactment by orphan_account (AM) (2016)

The sequel.

Words: 6360, rating: explicit, about: smut, sex tapes, top Cris

Your Summer Dream by orphan_account (AM) (2015)

Cris had watched and wondered, wondered what it'd be like to touch all the soft unmarred skin, to feel Leo's muscles around his fingertips. Then he'd had to adjust his shorts and remind himself that having a boner in public would probably drawn him even more attention.

Words: 4068, rating: mature, about: vacation, smut

It gets lonely at the top by postmodernsleaze (2014)

Portugal is on the verge of being eliminated from the World Cup, and Cristiano Ronaldo's injury is progressively getting worse. Not knowing how to deal with any of it, he turns to perhaps the most unlikely person imaginable.

Words 7362, rating: explicit, about: WC 2014, hurt/comfort, Portugal Nt, Argentina Nt, friendship, humor, smut

A Pitch Invader Attack, Messi/Ronaldo by prompt_fills (2015)

During an El Clásico match a crazy fan manages to get onto the pitch just when Cristiano and Messi are arguing over a foul. Things go sappier from there.

Words: 5657, rating: teen and up, about: violence, hurt/comfort, hospitals, PTSD, kissing

Home Is Freedom by prompt_fills (2017)

The Deaemon!AU

Sometimes it’s not the humans who make the first move.

All humans have deamons but no one has ever seen Cristiano’s daemon. Leo isn’t so quick to jump to conclusions because his own deamon is currently missing.

Words: 4574, rating: general, about: deamon au, animals, soulmates, injuries

Cris/Leo, two Leos from different universes swap places by prompt_fills (2016)

There is a reality in which Leo and Ronaldo aren’t together yet but there is also another reality in which Cris and Leo are together.

This is a story for an anon who wanted to know what happens when one Leo switches places with the other Leo.

Words: 6633, rating: teen and up, about: parallel universe au, humor, kid fic, kissing

Ronaldo/Messi, exchanging jersey by prompt_fills (2015)

Written for footballkink2, PP5, for this prompt: How about during one El Clasico in the new season Ronaldo came over and asked for Messi's jersey? Messi was a bit shocked but still complied. Maybe later media made a big deal out of it and the rumor of Ronaldo preparing to leave La Liga next season starts spreading. Messi realized he doesn't want to see Ronaldo leaving, he wants Ronaldo to always be his best enemy. And their relationship takes the next step from there?

Words: 1771, rating: teen and up, about: humor, fluff, transfers, friendship, possible love

D10S by pseuicide (2015)

Cristiano was sunning himself in front of one of the castle's enormous windows when he felt a hand on his arm. "The king requires your presence in his bedchamber tonight," the guard said. Cristiano resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The king required his presence just about every night.

"As His Grace desires."

Words: 17309, rating: explicit, about: harem au, royalty au, concubines, dub con, power struggles, smut, top Leo, friendship, love

Studio Galáctico by pseuicide (2015)

Cristiano's first instinct was to laugh.

The guy was tiny, easily a head shorter than him, with slender limbs and pale, tattooed skin. He was cute, with his big brown eyes and dimpled chin, but nothing about him really screamed 'top.' He had a sleeve of tattoos down one arm and to Cris it looked like a little boy playing at being a badass. Cristiano wondered where they found this guy and why they thought he was going to be able to convincingly top him.

Words: 5333, rating: explicit, about: porn star au, sex tapes, porn, smut, top Leo

I Bet There's One Thing I'm Better At by sdmadridista (2015)

After Ronaldo wins the Ballon d'Or for the second year in a row, Messi needs to prove he's better at something.

Words: 967, rating: mature, about: award shows, smut

All Gone (Well Done) by slappedq (2016)

He does the best he can at the moment; he pretends.

Spreads his hands at the referee and pretends that it was an accident.

Blanks his face (because he can't steel his pounding heart) and pretends that doesn't want to punch the snarling Alves in front of him.

Pretends that he is endlessly frustrated by the loss, not the overwhelming urge to push Leo back on the ground.

Pretends that he doesn't want to hear Leo to gasp like that again.

Words: 10926, rating: explicit, about: njuries, friendship, award shows, dub con, smut, top Cris, relationships, love, coming out

Regret, Remorse; Hold On - I Got To Go by slappedq (2016)

It’s extremely hard to just walk away from Leo when he is like this. Eyes bright with hunger and body tense with need, wound tight like a string; waiting for Cristiano to break him apart.

Words: 5538, rating: explicit, about: relationships, smut, love, rough sex, top Cris

four times leo messi surprised cristiano and one time he didn't by stickmarionette (2015)

As long as he lives, Cristiano will never forget that horrible screech. It tears through him in the seconds before the landing ships take over the horizon and echoes between his ears for the entire week after that, getting louder every time he closes his eyes.

Cristiano Ronaldo and Leo Messi have to team up to save the planet.

Words: 12780, rating: general, about: friendship, teammates, alien au

We're Going to Fight by stillgold (2018)

Ronaldo and Messi have hated each other for as long as they can remember. But then one day, Cris sees something that changes everything. It’s easier than Cris imagines to start to like Messi, easier than anything and more frightening.

Words: 5245, rating: explicit, about: award shows, CA 2016, WC 2018, Portugal Nt, Argentina Nt, rivalry, smut, top Cris

Text Me by tenshi_who (2013)

In which Leo tries to stay annoyed at Cristiano. He really does. But the other man is way too charming, and his lips are too distracting.

Or, The One Where Leo and Cris Film a Commercial Together and End Up Falling In Love.

Words: 5383, rating; general, about: friendship, fluff, love, smut

Remember the Best Times Are Yet To Come by Velocity_Owl87 (2014)

Leo Messi has heard it all: He was too small, he was too quiet, he was too different. He didn't give a damn and did what he wanted to do and was damned good at it. He didn't care that he wasn't what an Alpha was supposed to be.

Hell, he wasn't even worried about finding an Omega.

The game was all that mattered.

Cristiano Ronaldo was too focused on making it against the odds. His goals were clear and none of them involved getting mated and settling down. A feat that was made easier by his not being a typical Omega.

Then Cesc Fabregas's party occurred and now Messi and Ronaldo are bonded and mated and have to deal with the aftermath of that meeting and all it brought with it.

Words: 39094, rating: mature, about: a/b/o au, mpreg au, relationships, kid fic, smut, top Cris

The disease by yulin (2016)

There's a weird disease going around. When you touch a fertile man, you have a sort of shock, like static electricity. Then, in a few days, you either have sex with that man or you die. Leo catches the disease, and Cristiano has to take care of him.

Words: 6568, rating: explicit, about: fuck or die au, dub con, friendship, smut, top Cris

#fic #cressi #football rpf #cristessi #crismessi #fic rec #lionaldo #football fandom #football fanfiction #lionel messi #cristiano ronaldo #argentina nt #portugal nt #real madrid #fc barcelona

187 notes · View notes

blueraspberrycoolatta · 6 years ago

Text

2018 writing self-evaluation

yoo @suspendrs tagged me in this and i got so excited!! y’all know i love any opportunity to yell about my fics!!

ALL FICS MUST HAVE POSTED ON AO3 IN 2018

1. Number of stories (including drabbles) posted to AO3: 15

2. Word count posted for the year: 122,531

3. List of works published this year (in order of posting):

play me a memory (5 february)

don’t stop us now, we’ve started (11 march)

Ain’t That A Kick In The Head! (with @lesbianharrie) (23 april)

come find me in the afterglow (14 july)

you look just fine on your own (6 august)

some princes don’t become kings (11 august)

melodies and memories (31 august)

I Get A Kick Out Of You (with @lesbianharrie) (18 september)

i’ve learned to loathe these goddamn visions (7 october)

a little bit stressed out (2 november)

take off your colours (16 november)

no time for getting old (2 december)

hold onto this feeling (3 december)

taste the tension, now i’m begging (5 december)

half remembered, halfway across the world (first chapter posted 2 february, last updated 11 december)

4. Fandoms I wrote for: the legend of zelda: breath of the wild (8), one direction (5), 5 seconds of summer (1), kingdom hearts (1), choices: stories you play (1)

5. Pairings: louis/harry (5), link/revali (3), louis/zayn (2), calum/luke (2), hayner/roxas (1)

6. Story with the most:

Kudos: Ain’t That A Kick In The Head! (1062)

Bookmarks: Ain’t That A Kick In The Head! (432)

Comments: Ain’t That A Kick In The Head! (141)

9. Work I’m most proud of (and why):

it’s a tie between don’t stop us now, we’ve started and melodies and memories. don’t stop us was one of those stories that ran away from me in the best way—i intended it to be around 5k when i started it, 7k max, but as i dug into calum’s backstory, everything just kind of...started writing itself.

melodies and memories was similar. it doubled in length from what i’d originally planned for it to be, but what i actually like most about this one is that since it’s so closely linked to half remembered, halfway across the world, i’ve been putting little easter eggs and phrases/occurrences that mirror each other, either within the same fic or across both of them. the paraglider that zayn makes for louis in melodies and memories is the same one troye uses in half remembered. loius tells zayn he’s not the type to make promises, once in melodes and memories, and then again in half remembered. zayn there are a ton more but i can’t say them cos those chapters haven’t been posted yet, but i’ve been having way too much fun putting them in. (as emma’s said: i’m playing 3d chess with this fic)

10. Work I’m least proud of (and why):

probably take off your colours? i posted a first chapter and people seemed to like it but i started it with no idea where it was going and i’m worried i should have waited to post it, wrapped it up to make it a oneshot, and then just left it, rather than setting it up for a whole chaptered story. and i feel like the revalink fandom already has a bunch of soulmate fics and like do we really need mine fskjdfh

11. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

oh! can i post two? i’m gonna post two. the first is from a revalink fic, and the second is from the soccer fic.

Then it’s Link’s turn to say his vows. “Revali.” Link’s voice is soft, but steady and clear, no signs of nervousness as he picks up the diamond pendant. “When we first met, I thought you hated me. I thought you wanted nothing to do with me, and I thought I’d be just fine never seeing you again.” Scattered chuckles from the crowd. “I’ve never been so happy to be wrong. Revali, falling in love with you was like falling out of the sky. It happened so quickly, and I didn’t know what was happening, and it was scary at first, but once I accepted it, every moment has been thrilling and exciting and I never want to hit the ground and let it come to an end. I want to spend the rest of my life falling in love with you. So I take you, as you are, pride and all, to be my husband. I will be by your side, through storms, through Calamities, through everything life has to throw at us. I promise to support you and love you, unconditionally. You already have wings to take you into the sky—I promise to be the wings that take you into our future.”

Well, that does it. Revali blinks back tears. “Your vows were way better than mine,” he whispers, no venom behind the words even if he wanted there to be.

Link snorts fondly, standing on the balls of his feet to tie the pendant around Revali’s neck. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that not everything’s a competition?”

and then:

“I have dual fucking citizenship, you weeb.”

12. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

i really truly love every comment i get. it means the world that someone not only read my fic, but took the time to say something afterward. but i got several comments this year that were all along the lines of: i never thought about this this way. and i love that even in a fic context i can bring something new to the table, a unique perspective.

also, someone called me their favorite revalink writer and that made me into the literal hearteyes emoji i almost cried

13. A time when writing was really, really hard:

when isn’t it hard? but actually, nano was hard this year. i wrote more than i ever have, but i just felt like the pressure was Too Much. usually pressure is a good thing for me but for some reason it got to me this year. i was writing 4+ different projects, in 2 different fandoms, and i just couldn’t really focus.

14. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

all of 5sos in the breath of the wild au took me by surprise with the depth of their dynamics, but calum especially. i didn’t Mean to give him a fuckton of backstory, but i did, and he just kind of...developed on his own. next thing i knew, he was a conflicted teenager with a penchant for fighting but a whole lot of guilt. i’ve been really loving digging into his character, not only in the prequel but with the way ashton and luke talk about him half remembered. in fact, he surprised me so much he’s getting a sequel set after the events of half remembered. but that won’t be for a while yet.

15. How did you grow as a writer this year:

i want to say i surprised myself with the emotional themes i’ve been exploring in fics this year. i’ve had so much fun writing angst, especially in the breath of the wild verse, and i used to say i’ve never do angst or i’d never be good at writing it. i don’t know if i can say i’m good at it just yet, but i definitely feel like i’ve been getting better at conveying more emotion in my writing. also, i like to think i’ve gotten better at humor.

16. How do you hope to grow next year:

i just want to keep writing! i feel like especially this past month, i’ve just been hit with bursts of inspiration, and when that happens, i just want to go with it rather than be like ‘oh, that’s interesting, i’ll come back to that later when i have a better idea of what’ll happen.’ some of my favorite fics i’ve written this year have been largely unplanned and spontaneous so i want to carry that energy into the new year.

17. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

my loggies! i loved getting together to write (even if not a lot of writing got done) but all your encouragement and support has meant the world. also i wanna shoutout @lesbianharrie for being the absolute best cowriter i could ask for. i feel like she’s helped me be funnier, which has been something i’ve always wanted to do. also, writing comedy is always more fun with a friend!

18. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

please refer to the entirety of Ain’t That A Kick In The Head!

19. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

honestly, you have to like what you’re writing. otherwise, you’re gonna slog through it and you’ll hate every moment and that’s no fun, especially if writing is meant to be a hobby. write the stories you want to write, even if it seems like no one will read them. you never know—people might surprise you. and even if they don’t, hey! you wrote something you like and you’re proud of, and that’s enough.

20. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

I’M GOING TO FINISH HALF REMEMBERED. I’M SPEAKING IT INTO EXISTENCE. the second half is actually going to be posted more quickly because i keep writing it out of order. like. i have the epilogue done. but do i know what’s happening in the immediate next chapter? not a clue!

but also, i have some really exciting new projects in the works as well! i have a high school bagpipe band au that’s gonna be ridiculous and (hopefully) funny, my fic for the @hlmusicalsficfest that’s gonna be based on nice work if you can get it, and at Least two (2) more disaster harry fics. get pumped!

21. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read.

uhhh idk who’s been tagged and who’s already done it so i’m just gonna say: anyone who sees this and wants to do it! just tag me, i wanna read your answers!

#keely's writing tag

3 notes · View notes

tea-and-cardigans · 7 years ago

Text

Chapter 12- The Virtue Of My Heart - What Fools These Mortals Be.

Aesthetic credit to @cooperbettycooper

OMG that premiere am I right?!

Here is another update for my multichapter and we are fast approaching the end. Which is a little sad but also excited to share the rest of this stroy with all of you. Thank you to everyone who commented, and left reviews on the various fanfic platforms I appreciate every single one of you so much. As always thank you to my awesome beta @jandjsalmon who not only reminds me what colour I have made Juggie’s eyes but is encouraging and a good friend.

I hope you enjoy the update!

The Riverdale Community Theatre Company is staging its greatest production to date: “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”. Betty Cooper sees this as an opportunity to make the company’s most sought-after actor, Archie Andrews, hers. Unfortunately, new girl in town, Veronica Lodge has scored a lead role, putting her directly opposite Archie. Behind the scenes, Jughead Jones has returned to his usual role back stage but is soon drafted into the play when one of the actors has an accident. Meanwhile, director Kevin Keller just wants to stage a successful play and keep his actors private lives separate.

Chap 1 / Chap 2 / Chap 3 / Chap 4 / Chap 5 / Chap 6 / Chap 7 / Chap 8 / Chap 9 / Chap 10 / Chap 11 / Ao3 / FF.net

Betty had been delaying the inevitable.

Sooner or later she would need to face Jughead and her feelings and try to deal with in addition to the fact that he was leaving Riverdale at the end of the summer. And then there was Archie. He hadn’t texted her since. She had graciously accepted Veronica’s offer of a ride to the theatre for their dress rehearsal that afternoon. She had thought of a myriad of possible reasons to miss the rehearsal, but she knew she would just e she had left him at the restaurant. She didn’t foresee that she had done him any damage and half suspected that his fleeting interest in her was at least partly due to his dislike of Jughead and the possibility of taking something away from him.

Veronica had enquired about her date with the star of the show and whether it had lived up to all her expectations, but even Betty had to admit that it hadn’t and that she wasn’t sure anyone could have lived up to the pedestal that she had built for him in her mind. Veronica had feigned disinterest as she asked whether he had happened to mention her and Betty had told her that he hadn’t but she was sure his attention would shift once again to the confident new girl now that his brief pit stop with her was over.

Betty smoothed down the pale lavender silk of her costume, admiring the way it clung around her gentle curves. She knew that she wasn’t particularly curvy or voluptuous but this dress made the most of what she had. The gown hung off her left shoulder leaving it bare while the material gathered and flowed from her right. Her finger ran across the plane of her neck, down her collarbone as she admired the way she looked under the dimmed lights backstage. To be honest she felt special, like someone worth admiring.

“You look beautiful, Betts.” Betty was broken out of her contemplation by Jughead’s voice behind her. Smiling, she turned to see that he had also changed into his costume. Form fitting pants with a white flowing shirt. The top buttons had been kept undone while the bottom was tucked haphazardly into the top of his pants.

He moved closer and she watched him carefully, a lump stuck in her throat as he stood in front of her. She struggled to keep her eyes trained on his, the temptation to let them drift over his body making the task difficult.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she managed in a voice much breathier than she’d intended. He gave a shy smile and ran his fingers through his hair, which she now noticed was devoid of his usual beanie. His locks were wild and unruly, staying in place for a moment when pushed back before tumbling down in front of his face again; One constant curl falling over his left eye, before being moved again.

“Thanks.” He took another step closer and Betty felt her heartbeat speed up. Only realizing now that they were the only ones backstage and that he was close enough that she could easily breathe in his familiar scent of coffee and cigarettes. Her mind was flooded with memories of their coffee dates, his hand brushing against her own as he encouraged her to try his black coffee before she screwed up her face at the bitter taste, while he laughed and she couldn’t help but be caught up in his laughter. Happy memories that were no longer marred by the mess that had followed. Memories that she could now allow herself to enjoy and embrace and remember with the joy that she’d felt at the time. She wondered if he thought about their time together. She wondered what he would say if he knew how she felt about him. If she asked him to stay if he would.

“Demetrius is a fool you know,” he whispered as she cocked her head to the side. “That he couldn’t see Helena’s beauty, that he would need some love spell to fall in love with her.” His hand was reaching up, she suspected to graze her cheek and she held her breath in anticipation.

“Betty!” Kevin’s voice thundered from the stage and shook them from their reverie. The company had once bought him a megaphone to try and save his voice. It had lasted 2 days before it was found smashed into pieces after falling from a great height. Stagehand Jughead Jones had ardently denied responsibility for the incident despite Kevin’s accusations.

By the time Kevin had burst through the doorway, Jughead had ceased his movements and his hands were now firmly by his sides. Kevin looked between the two of them briefly before wrapping his arm around Betty’s. “I need you.” He pulled her along with him out of the room. “Looking good Jughead.” He managed to toss over his shoulder as he left.

Betty was tugged along to the stage before he finally slowed down.

“Kevin, what the-?” She managed to wrestle her arm away from his grip as they stopped near his office.

“What was the emergency this morning?” he asked in a hushed whisper as Betty grimaced as she remembered the texts she had sent him that morning.

“It doesn’t matter; it’s sorted now. It was just me panicking over something not important. You know how I do.” Kevin eyed her suspiciously as she spoke and she flashed him a confident smile. He seemed to reluctantly accept her explanation.

“I don’t completely believe you, Princess. But I trust that if it was important you would tell me.” His eyebrow quirked as he gave her a final opportunity to reveal all. Betty’s smile didn’t falter as she gave a short laugh.

“It’s nothing Kevin, really,” she assured him. “But these costumes- Kevin they are stunning.” Betty had been friends with Kevin for long enough to know that if there was one way to distract him, it was to get him talking about his passion.

“Aren’t they,” Kevin said proudly as he looked around at the other actors and their various costumes. “I had to call in a few favours and Veronica may have put me in contact with some people. Have I mentioned how much I love that she joined us?”

“Maybe once or twice.” In all honesty Kevin had been gushing about Veronica since her arrival.

“Well I am.” He was readjusting the shoulder of her dress, which had slipped down during their speedy exit from the backstage, when he stopped suddenly. “Oh my gosh! I can’t believe I almost forgot to ask. How did the date with Archie go?”

Betty groaned inwardly at the reminder of a night and really years that she had regretted.

“It was fine,” Betty said as she swatted his hand away from her shoulder, readjusting the dress herself and spending longer on it than she needed to in an attempt to avoid Kevin’s gaze.

“C’mon Betty. It was fine?” She could hear the disbelief in his voice. “You have been trying to get a date with that boy since we started these productions and it was just fine?”

She sighed. “It wasn’t what I thought it would be. We just. I guess we just don’t have that much in common.”

“Well, I for one am relieved that you have finally come to your senses that that boy is not right for you. And can I just have one ‘I told you so’?” Betty rolled her eyes and he gave her a pointed look. She finally nodded in agreement. “I told you so.” He took a deep sigh. “Now we can get these rehearsals started.” He looked at his watch before pinching the bridge of his nose.

Betty knew that they were running behind schedule and there was still one member of the company who was yet to be seen. She was probably still in her very own private dressing room. Kevin gave a dramatic sigh. “Now I just need to summon our Queen of the Fairies and we can get started.” He straightened himself and clung the clipboard containing the running sheet to his chest as he took a deep breath. “Wish me luck.”

Archie was no longer flashing Betty that award winning smile that he had been sending her in the days leading up to their date. In fact, he seemed to hardly take any notice of her at all as if the world had returned to normal and she was back to being boring Betty Cooper. For one of the first times in her life she was actually grateful for that. Even looking at him made her feel uncomfortable.

Jughead on the other hand was watching her intently. Every time their eyes met he would give her a small smile and she would find herself returning it before she could reprimand herself that she was not flirting with him. They were friends and she was going to keep it that way. He was leaving.

The day had been grueling, as dress rehearsals usually were, but the end was in sight and Kevin seemed to be happy with how things were overall which allowed Betty to breathe a sigh of relief.

Being in close proximity to Jughead throughout the play was not helping her ‘situation’ - they shared almost all of their scenes and even when they weren’t on stage together he insisted on sitting next to her in the theatre seats. He’d whisper a running commentary to what was going on onstage and his leg would occasionally brush up against her own as he attempted to get comfortable with his long limbs in the confined space. Betty’s breathing would hitch and she’d force herself to remember that they’d decided that they were friends and friends didn’t think about their friends in that way. Friends didn’t let their bodies react at the slightest touch. Friends didn’t have to force themselves not to look too long at their other friends’ mouths. It got to the point where she would excuse herself to get some water, give herself a pep talk in the bathroom, and then come back out to retake her seat, pretending nothing was amiss and offering him a friendly smile.

They were finally rehearsing one of their final scenes before the ‘play within the play’ which she knew was one of Jughead’s favourites, considering his love to snark from the sidelines. They were rehearsing the four lovers being caught by Egeus and Theseus in the woods after their night of mischief and magic. Lysander, free from the love potion, has returned to his devotion of Hermia. While Demetrius, still under the fairy’s magic and in love with Helena, has his heart’s wishes changed.

Betty, Veronica, Archie and Jughead took their positions on the stage laying down while the scene between Titania, Bottom, and later Oberon and Puck played out in front of them. Betty had to admit that Cheryl looked flawless, truly capturing the beauty yet danger and power of the Queen Titania while Dilton encapsulated the sweet but out-of-his-depth Bottom. Reggie pranced about the stage as a perfect Puck and Betty could see why Kevin had been so adamant in his refusal to change his casting. She glanced over to Jughead next to her and she noticed that he too was intently watching the scene in front of them play out while they waited for their characters to wake from their night in the woods. His arm was thrown over her waist and she couldn’t help but notice the weight of it. He was holding her close, every time she took a breath, it would rise and fall in time in response to her own body’s movements.

Jug glanced down at her and met her eyes as Pop Tate, Trevor Brown, and Toni Topaz entered onto the stage.

“Good morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is past:

Begin these wood-birds but to couple now?” Pop’s strong voice boomed over the stage as the lovers began to stir from their lying positions.

“Pardon, my lord,” Archie said as he propped himself up on his elbow looking up at the strong figure of the two men above him.

“I pray you all, stand up.

I know you two are rival enemies:

How comes this gentle concord in the world,

That hatred is so far from jealousy,

To sleep by hate, and fear no enmity?”

Pop continued to speak as they rose to their feet. Jughead wrapped his arm around Betty’s shoulder and pulled her towards him, encouraging her to rest her weight upon him. Archie took the opportunity to pull Veronica to himself and though she seemed a little surprised by his actions, she too leaned into him.

“My lord, I shall reply amazedly,

Half sleep, half waking: but as yet, I swear,

I cannot truly say how I came here;

But, as I think,–for truly would I speak,

And now do I bethink me, so it is,–

I came with Hermia hither: our intent

Was to be gone from Athens, where we might,

Without the peril of the Athenian law.”

“Enough, enough, my lord; you have enough:” Trevor interrupted, playing the part of Hermia’s father whose wishes were being ignored as his daughter had been betrothed to Demetrius and not Lysander.

“I beg the law, the law, upon his head.

They would have stolen away; they would, Demetrius,

Thereby to have defeated you and me,

You of your wife and me of my consent,

Of my consent that she should be your wife.”

Jughead took a step towards Trevor while his hand was still entwined with Betty’s.

“My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth,

Of this their purpose hither to this wood;

And I in fury hither follow’d them,

Fair Helena in fancy following me.”

He looked down at her as he said her character’s name. Smiling down at her and the rest of the room seemed to melt away as he continued to perform his lines. As if they were not in a performance at all. Betty was not that good of a teacher.

“But, my good lord, I wot not by what power,–

But by some power it is,–my love to Hermia,

Melted as the snow, seems to me now

As the remembrance of an idle gaud

Which in my childhood I did dote upon;

And all the faith, the virtue of my heart,

The object and the pleasure of mine eye,”

He brought his hand up to caress her cheek with the back of his knuckles and though her breath was caught in her throat, Betty could only focus on the sound of his voice and how she wasn’t sure how she had never noticed that there was the smallest hint of green within his blue eyes.

“Is only Helena. To her, my lord,

Was I betroth’d ere I saw Hermia:

But, like in sickness, did I loathe this food;

But, as in health, come to my natural taste,”

His tongue came out to lick his lips and she realized that she was holding her bottom lip in between her teeth and released it as the thought crossed her mind.

“Now I do wish it, love it, long for it,

And will for evermore be true to it.”

The stage directions then called for Demetrius to place a chaste kiss on her cheek. They had rehearsed it a million times at this point, and Betty turned her face to offer her cheek. What she didn’t expect was for Jughead’s hand to cup her face as he turned her back to face him. She quirked an eyebrow in question as his eyes drifted to her lips only for a moment before closing the distance between them brushing his lips up against her own. Her body had already responded to him by the time her mind caught on. Her lips moving against his own as he claimed her mouth. She lost herself. Time, place, the very stunned audience of their peers. All of it was lost. Her mind was filled instead with the overwhelming sensation of being kissed by him. And enjoying it. She clung to the material of his plain white shirt as his hand moved to the back of her neck allowing him to kiss her deeper and she groaned into his mouth…

And then it was over and he was pulling away while Betty felt stunned as her fingers moved over her lips, already missing the feeling of his lips against her own. Jughead’s attention had now shifted back to Pop as he managed to complete his lines.

“Well that wasn’t in the script.” She heard Veronica mumble under her breath and Betty’s eyes flashed towards her as her friend flashed a knowing smile.

“Away with us to Athens; three and three,

We’ll hold a feast in great solemnity.

Come, Hippolyta.”

Betty’s attention shifted back to Pop as he finished his lines and exited the stage with Trevor and Toni. Watching Jughead who seemed to pay no attention to the fact that he had just kissed her on stage in front of the rest of the company as if it was completely normal.

“These things seem small and undistinguishable,” Jughead said as he enclosed his hand around her own again and she seemed hyper aware of his touch.

“Methinks I see these things with parted eye,

When every thing seems double.” Veronica performed her lines as continued to smile at Betty.

“So methinks:

And I have found Demetrius like a jewel,

Mine own, and not mine own.”

Betty managed to get her lines out despite her complete distraction, her mind racing as to what on earth had just happened and what on earth she was going to do about it.

#bughead fanfiction #betty cooper x jughead jones #my work #WFTMB #Theatre AU #riverdale

48 notes · View notes

vidalinav · 8 years ago

Text

Read to Me

Summary: Cassian reads to Nesta while she’s pregnant.

Rated: K

Read the rest of these one shots on AO3 or here

I had a really hard time this year, but this fandom is the best and everyday I was reading great fanfiction and funny comments and It honestly got me through. So I want to thank @sparkleywonderful for being the greatest friend a fanfic writer and person in general could ask for, @stripesandpolkadot for helping me when it was needed the most and then becoming a person I hope to get to know more of @propshophannah, @illyriantremors, @laviperagentile, @getalittlecountry and every other writer who are literally fantastic people who write amazingly in every way. Thanks for the inspiration and the happy times! You are all rays of light shining through my window. :)

I don’t know where the sap came from (shrugs)

“Heaven Knows” by Hillsong

The fire crackled in the night, awakening embers that lit the room in breathtaking flames. Filtering their home with the smell of pine and vanilla. A scent so familiar to him, it was embedded in his clothes and every little thing he carried with him.

She was sitting in an armchair, big enough to seat him that it had swallowed her frame. Her blue nightgown brought out the blue of her irises, like forget-me-nots in the breeze. She had waited for him like she always did, amid the darkness and the orange glow.

Her relaxed stance told him she had been sitting there for a while, a thought that made the furrow of his eyebrows calm into smooth skin. The healer had told her she shouldn’t be walking for long periods of time. Not until she was stronger, until they were stronger. He could hardly contain his excitement and she knew.

Her face lit up in sunshine and stardust as she saw him, made him believe the world was good and pure and happy. He couldn’t possibly believe anything else when she looked at him like that, as if he was a gift so precious she was going to keep and cherish him forever.

“You’re back.” She spoke. Voice as loud as a whisper, with a love so soft he could touch it, rub against it.

Her hands laid softly on her rounded stomach, and Cassian couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. He ambled towards her, kissing her on the lips and rubbing her belly hello.

A long time ago, he believed the only purpose he had was in wielding blades and punching fists—to be stronger than any one. That was all he was good for, all he was good at. Cassian couldn’t deny his existence, any more than he could deny his love for her. But somehow, in some way he had gotten to meet her. The wildfire he’d call his mate and wife.

He still didn’t always believe it, didn’t think he deserved her. Nesta had walked into his life and lighted the way. Despite being ready to burn everyone who managed to be near her, all she ever did was make him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

“What do you want to read today, my love?” His voice rough and low.

Nesta hummed to herself, a beautiful, soft sound that caused his heart to settle in his chest. He was home in a million ways.

“How about that one?” She said pointing to the right of the bookshelf.

Cassian looked at the red cover and the words etched in bold font. Smirking to himself, he grabbed the hardcover. Picking her up and settling her in his lap, Nesta curled around him. The baby sweetly protected in the middle of their love.

“You would pick this one.”

Nesta’s wicked grin made his stomach clench. Later, they’d get to that later. They had all the time in the world.

He began to read to her, making sure to pause when everything erupted in drama, gasped when the plot twist twisted just enough. Laughed at the funny parts and pressed his lips to the side of her head when a scene hit him just right.

Cassian knew she liked it when he read aloud. If only for her own amusement, he would do it every time.

“He licked her where!?”

Nesta’s laugh made his own shine upon his face, a million tiny sunflowers erupting where his heart should have been.

He looked at her then, truly looked at her as he had done so many times before. The youthful freckles painted on her face, her cheekbones soaring high from the tilt of her lips, the way her eyes made him rejoice a little bit more than usual. Everything about her was a miracle.

“I don’t know why you insist on reading these, I’m right here Nes.” Cassian lifted his arms, gesturing to all of him.

He knew staying in bed all day wasn’t what she wanted. Knew she would rather be useful, doing something productive and valuable. Cassian had reminded her many times that she was plenty useful. She was carrying their love in her tiny body. There was nothing more valuable than that.

He held her tightly, mindful of their little one. Squeezing just enough so she knew he was there, cradling her safe to his chest.

“I could do it better, you know.” He whispered in her ear, a brush against the sweet flush of her skin.

She stared at him, raining days meeting flecks of gold. Nesta could stare at him forever, he’d be happy with that alone. But she leaned in and touched her lips to his. Warm like the love she gave him.

Their lips danced and danced, keeping in tune with the rhythm of their heartbeats. Until Nesta pulled away abruptly and gasped.

The gesture on her face made the steady beat of his heart race like thunder. He could feel the panic rise in his chest, but she merely smiled at him as if a gate had been pushed wide open.

Nesta took his hand in hers, the pulse through her wrist warming the ice that had seeped into his shirt. She held it towards her, gentle and soft. Words he learned to described Nesta once he knew how big her heart was. She laid his hand on the sweet swell of her stomach.

“Can you feel her?” She whispered.

Could he feel the love, she meant, the breath, the beating, the life centered in the palm of his hand. Because when he laid his hand on her, all he could feel was a soft kick, and a rush of emotion threatened to burst out of him right there.

He couldn’t possibly tell her, couldn’t possibly voice aloud, that it wasn’t the fire that filled the house with warmth and sunshine. It was the very laughter that sprung out of her mouth, as if she was the only dream amidst the nightmare he had called his life. That she had given him the only thing he had ever dreamed about.

Centered in the room, with the fire burning bright, their little family nestled in the arm chair made his heart swell with a love he could never tame. A love he’d live for.

It was all he needed.

This is my large nessian one-shot compilation. I challenged myself to write one fanfic a day for the next 30 days, so wish me luck and send me prompts! You are all amazing and I hope you all have wonderful summers and days ahead.

#nessian #nessian headcanon #nessian fanfiction #nesta archeron #cassian x nesta #nesta x cassian #mama nesta #acowar #acotar fanfiction #canyousensethesarcasm

250 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 5 years ago

Text

Chivalry Fell on its Sword, Chapter Four [FINAL] (Branjie) - Athena2

Summary: Brooke accepts her feelings for Vanessa while waiting to see if she’s okay, and one final threat emerges.

A/N: I can’t believe the last chapter is here already! I had a lot of fun with this one and I really hope you all enjoyed it too! Thank you as always to Writ, for betaing and brainstorming and just being amazing. Also thank you to Barbie for supporting this the whole way and hyping me up with your comments! You both helped so much with this.

I really hope you like this last chapter, and I’d really appreciate any feedback you have for it!

Read on AO3

Brooke paces the floor, nothing but her thoughts for company.

An hour ago—or was it two? She’s lost track of time—she’d sprinted into the castle with Vanessa in her arms. Scarlet had run for the medic, the queen appeared, and they’d taken Vanessa away from her.

Her forearms ache with emptiness and still sting with heat from Vanessa’s body. Brooke had gotten sick last winter, sweating so much she thought the stable was on fire, but Vanessa felt even warmer than that. Scarlet had mentioned sunstroke before going to help the medic, and Brooke hopes she’s right, hopes the medic can fix it.

Because she can’t stop pacing until someone tells her Vanessa is all right.

Her mother had always said she was impatient. She would move Brooke away from the wood stove so she didn’t get burned waiting for bread to hurry up and bake, then soothe her scorched tongue with cold water after Brooke’s eager bites; would tell her that staring at the grass wouldn’t make flowers grow faster. Brooke was always ready, stuck waiting for the world to catch up.

She had to learn patience while stuck in the orphanage with all those noisy kids, planning her escape, when Patrick did the calculations and said it would be four years of wages for the equipment and training she needed. It took ten years to get here, and she’s done enough waiting.

Something thuds in the room, and Brooke’s hand flies to her sword, only to realize how useless it is. How useless she is against this, an opponent she can’t cut down with a sword. She knows the battlefield of sweat and blood and steel, but this is vials of liquids and bandages and strange equipment. She can’t do anything but wait and hope the medic can help Vanessa. It’s her duty to keep Vanessa safe, but she can’t, and it makes Brooke’s stomach writhe.

What if the medic can’t save Vanessa? What if Brooke never sees her again? She breathes past the lump in her throat. Despite their class differences, she and Vanessa have become friends, and it’s been years since Brooke has had a friend–had anyone, really. She can’t lose Vanessa. Vanessa, who breathes life into her canvases and the whole world around her, who teaches Brooke to read without teasing her, who brings out a softness in Brooke she didn’t know she still had. Brooke’s heart fills to bursting every time she thinks of Vanessa, of her curly hair and warm eyes and mischievous smile, and maybe she’s wrong in calling Vanessa her friend. Maybe what Brooke feels for her is more, much more.

A young woman emerges from the room and Brooke jumps. She’s almost as tall as Brooke, with long limbs and sharp eyes.

“Can I see her? Is she–“

“Vanessa’s fine. We cooled her off, and she’s resting now.” She pauses. “She had severe sunstroke. If you hadn’t gotten her back here in time…” Her intense gaze says what her mouth won’t, and Brooke shivers.

“You’re—“

“I’m Yvie. The medic.”

“You’re young for a medic,” Brooke says.

Yvie shrugs. “You’re young for a knight.” Neither mentions the obvious, that girls aren’t allowed to do either of the things they do.

Yvie smiles, and Brooke senses a kindred spirit, someone who also had to fight to do what she wanted.

“Vanessa hired me,” Yvie continues. “I come from a noble family, so I was allowed a healer’s education. When the position opened here, I figured I’d take the chance, and it paid off.”

Brooke nods. Vanessa definitely has a knack for choosing people who wouldn’t have the chance to do what they wanted otherwise, people who are up against the world just by living.

“Can I see her?” Brooke asks again.

Yvie snorts. “You’d better. She’s been talking my ear off asking for you.”

Brooke’s heart leaps. She isn’t the only impatient one, the only one who needs to see the girl on the other side of that door right this second.

The door opens, and Brooke has to remind herself what breathing is. Moving past Scarlet and the queen, towards Vanessa, is like moving through quicksand. Vanessa lies in bed with a cloth on her forehead, and though her color is normal, she looks so tiny, so helpless, in the massive bed that’s almost swallowing her up.

Brooke thinks of how easily she carried Vanessa, supporting her head because Vanessa couldn’t, how small and frail she was in Brooke’s arms, and Brooke can’t think of Yvie’s words, can’t think of what might have happened if she wasn’t there. Vanessa is safe, and that’s all that matters.

“Brooke,” Vanessa croaks, motioning to the chair by the bed. Brooke drops into it before her legs stop working altogether, her heart beginning to slow.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Yvie says I have to stay in bed until the feast.”

“Hmm, now who needs to rest?” Brooke teases gently, because the alternative is letting the fear over seeing Vanessa like this take control, and Brooke can’t let fear win, can’t let Vanessa get scared too.

Vanessa smiles faintly, then grabs Brooke’s hand with a strength that’s taking too much effort, from the sweat beading at her temples. She meets Brooke’s eyes, expression suddenly serious, voice firm. “Thank you for getting me back here. If you weren’t there–”

“Shh,” Brooke soothes. “You don’t have to thank me. I couldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t get you back here. I was there. Vanessa, I–I’ll always be there.” It’s more than her duty, she realizes as she takes in Vanessa’s smile. It’s something she wants to do, something she loves to do. Being at Vanessa’s side, hearing her laugh and trying on ridiculous clothes in the market, listening to her stories and sharing food, is the greatest honor Brooke can imagine.

“Just don’t make a habit of rescuing me. I’m not some damsel.” She yawns, forcing her eyes back open with an exhausted groan.

“Definitely not.” Brooke grins. “Maybe I could tell you a story?” she suggests, hoping it will help Vanessa sleep and get the rest she needs.

Vanessa nods sleepily.

Brooke clears her throat and thinks of her favorite one. Even though her mother hasn’t told her the story in ten years, the words will never leave her.

“Once upon a time, a brave knight roamed the land…”

Vanessa is asleep by the time the knight begins training, and Brooke watches her gentle breaths, refusing to succumb to sleep until she knows Vanessa is safe.

—

Brooke must fall asleep, because she wakes to warm candlelight and inky sky. Vanessa breathes softly, and Brooke sighs in relief. She’s still in the chair, but someone draped a blanket over her.

“Brooke?”

Just for a second, Brooke wonders (hopes; wishes, even) if the voice belongs to her mother. She turns and sees the queen beside her, looking nothing like the royalty she is. With the bags under her eyes and her messy hair, she’s just an ordinary mother at her daughter’s bedside. She and Brooke are just two people watching over someone they care about, equals in concern.

Brooke almost shoots out of the chair at the realization that she’s missed night duty and messed up in front of the queen. “Your Majesty, I’m sorry, I had night duty—“

“I took care of it. You deserve the night off after what you did,” the queen says quietly. “Go back to sleep.”

Brooke does, under a mother’s gaze for the first time in ten years.

—

Vanessa wakes with a groan. Yesterday, it had felt like that same bad dream was coming true, that she was falling. She remembers the clearing with Brooke, and then she was falling through the world while images flickered by–Brooke’s concerned eyes watching her, her mother’s soothing whispers. She could sense things happening, but she was slipping further and further away from it all, falling and unable to right herself, to get back into her body.

The next thing she remembered was being in the tub, her teeth chattering from the icy water. Her mother was holding her up, and Vanessa was grateful because her body was too heavy to hold up herself. Yvie and Scarlet were there, but Brooke wasn’t, and a Brooke-shaped whimper escaped her before she could stop it. All she could manage through her shivers was Brooke’s name, until they put her in bed and then Brooke was there, worried and kind, a shield while she slept.

Now, on her birthday, with the feast hours away, she’s stuck in bed. That’s the last time she wears heavy clothes in the sun.

“What a lousy birthday,” she mutters.

“Get used to it,” her mother says under her breath.

“I wanted to go to the market, and–”

“And you’ll stay here until the feast,” her mother says. “Your knight agrees with me.”

Brooke blushes at being drawn into the conversation, but she nods.

“Traitor,” Vanessa huffs, but she can’t help but smile. The way Brooke watched over her all night makes Vanessa warm inside, like Brooke is her own personal sun to keep her warm and dry and let her grow. Brooke has become so much more than her friend. She’s become someone Vanessa looks forward to seeing every morning, someone she’s closer to than she’s been with anyone in years. Someone Vanessa doesn’t ever want to lose.

Scarlet brings in breakfast, and Vanessa settles in for the day.

—

Brooke holds the hand pies nervously at Vanessa’s bedside. It’s fitting that the first thing she spent her gold on is food, which she used to covet but couldn’t afford, and even more special because it’s for Vanessa’s birthday.

“Happy birthday!” Brooke says, handing Vanessa two halves of each pie–one raspberry, one apple.

“Brooke, you…” Vanessa sputters.

“I wanted you to have a little something for your birthday.”

Vanessa takes a bite, smiling as wide as Brooke did when she first tried the pie. “You know, maybe this birthday isn’t so bad.”

—

Guests start arriving, and Vanessa is finally released from bed. Scarlet laces the dress, fastening jewelry and putting her tiara on, and Vanessa is herself for the first time all day.

Brooke wears real armor, but this is hers: thick dresses and heavy necklaces, the golden tiara like a shield over her. Vanessa never feels as strong as she does when dressed up for feasts, everyone looking to her for what to do, listening to what she has to say. People respect her, trust her, count on her to be a good queen one day. And when she’s dressed like this, she knows she will be.

She follows her mother into the great hall, gasping when she sees Brooke. A’keria made her a white shirt with a vest stitched from the midnight sky, tiny gold roses popping on the collar.

Brooke gestures to herself when Vanessa sits. “Do you like it?”

“It’s perfect on you,” Vanessa says, the same compliment Brooke gave about her dress, that made Vanessa tingle with joy.

Brooke smiles at her, and Vanessa is gone. She nods along when people talk, discusses trade and alliance and goods, but her real focus is on Brooke. She follows Vanessa’s lead for what forks to use, and the sight of Brooke–the strongest, boldest knight Vanessa knows–needing her help with forks only makes Vanessa’s heart open even wider for her. Brooke nudges her every time someone drones on for hours, and Vanessa has to bite her lip to keep the laughter back. By the time everyone exits, she and Brooke are giggling like fools.

“Do you think Lord Richard still has chicken in his teeth?” Brooke asks.

“Oh, absolutely,” Vanessa cackles. “I bet it’s still there tomorrow morning!”

“Lord Walter will probably still be talking about cobblestones tomorrow too.”

“At least we won’t have to listen to it. Did you see Lady Grace spill cake all over herself?”

“Who could’ve missed it?” Brooke giggles.

She nestles against Brooke, her head fitting perfectly in the muscled curve of her shoulder, sheltering Vanessa from the world.

“Want to go to my room?” Vanessa asks. “We can get hot chocolate–”

Her mother storms in with Ron behind her, and that fierce, determined look on her mother’s face is the same one she had after the king died, when the kingdom fell to her and she would do what it took to keep it. Vanessa gulps, fear bolting through her heart when her mother calls her and Brooke into the council room.

—

Brooke stands with Ron and faces Vanessa and her mother. It’s just like her first day here, and she fights to stop trembling. Something about this, and the sneer Ron gives her, is wrong, a kind of wrong that might leave her world upside down.

“So,” the queen begins. “There’s diamonds missing from the south wing. I’d like to know why.”

Ron shoots a smirk at Brooke. “Your Majesty, Brooke was supposed to cover that area as the guests left. Someone must have slipped in because she wasn’t there.”

Brooke’s skin steams. “No I wasn’t! You had me posted with Vanessa all night. You were supposed to cover the south wing!”

Ron assumes a face of mock concern. “Could you read the diagram? You know, if you needed help–”

“I know how to read!”

“A peasant girl like you? I doubt it.” Ron turns to the queen. “Do you really want someone who can’t follow orders on the royal guard?”

“I have Brooke to thank for my daughter’s life, Ron,” the queen says acidly, and Brooke soars with pride.

“Of course,” he says. “But it’s still her fault the diamonds are stolen.”

“I don’t care about the diamonds,” the queen says. “But if it’s diamonds one day, it could be something happening to Vanessa another, and I won’t let that happen.” Her voice is firm and vibrating with power. It’s the voice of a queen, and even Ron is silent. “Now,” the queen continues, “All I know is that jewels are missing, and someone wasn’t where they were supposed to be.”

Brooke lowers her head. “Your Majesty, I followed my orders, I promise you. Whatever I need to do to prove my innocence–”

“We could do it the old-fashioned way.” Ron smiles devilishly.

“What do you mean?” Brooke demands, but she knows. Of course she knows.

Ron moves to the center of the room, always seeking an audience. “We could let fate decide. Duel to prove your innocence. You win, you’re innocent. I win, well…it’s up to the queen what happens to you. I think banishment is fair.”

Vanessa sucks in a breath, her worried gaze burning into Brooke. She shakes her head, and Brooke knows she’s against the idea. But Brooke still considers the offer.

There’s nothing to prove her guilt, but also nothing to prove her innocence. And who’s to say that Ron won’t find some way to frame her, some fake evidence she can’t fight against? He could make the other knights say she was in the wrong. It’s her word against his, and he’s been captain of the guard for ten years. The queen might believe her this time, but then what? How many more times will Ron blame her for something she didn’t do, all for the crime of being poor and a girl?

But if she takes Ron on and wins, it will end. The queen will support her, and Ron will suffer the consequences of losing. Either way, he won’t bother her again after she’s defeated him on this grand a stage. With a win now–her second against the guard’s captain–she’s sure to earn her place among the others without question. She doesn’t want to rely on Vanessa or the queen to protect her. She wants to fight for herself.

She touches the ring around her neck, searching for the answer from someone she’s tried to forget in order to protect herself, someone whose stories she’s been missing a decade now. Her mother would support her no matter what, had let Brooke pretend to be a knight when most would have laughed at her, and Brooke knows what she has to do.

Brooke turns to Ron, ignoring Vanessa’s fearful face. “You just can’t wait to lose to me again, can you?”

“Are we on, then?”

“Oh, we’re on,” Brooke says firmly, pulling up to her full height. “Let’s have a trial by combat.”

—-

After a long night of planning her attack strategy and considering Ron’s weaknesses, Brooke prepares for the duel at dawn. The queen had ordered everyone to their rooms last night, and Brooke didn’t even get to see Vanessa, try to explain, though she knows from Vanessa’s murderous stare that she wasn’t happy. Brooke can’t question whether she made the right choice, because that ship has sailed. There’s no backing down, and the thought keeps her company as she gets ready, holding herself together with armor, as bold and brave as she always is when encased in steel.

She’s fastening her leg guards when the door bursts open.

“You’re such a knight,” Vanessa mutters. Brooke can’t tell if she’s impressed or annoyed. Possibly both, from her folded arms.

Brooke straightens up. “What’s that mean?”

“A trial by combat to defend your honor? A dangerous risk you don’t need to take? Sounds like a knight to me.”

“Vanessa–”

“I just don’t see why you have to do all this,” Vanessa says, her anger gone and replaced with a worried confusion. She fiddles with the sleeve of her dress, nervous in a way Brooke hasn’t seen before. It only hurts worse that she’s caused it.

“I have to, Vanessa. I have to prove myself and show them I belong.”

“But my mother would have believed that it wasn’t your fault,” Vanessa insists. “No duel, no danger.”

Brooke sighs. “Vanessa, I can’t. I…I can’t let Ron keep doing this and then running to you for help—“

“Now you don’t want my help?” Vanessa demands. She tries to sound angry, but Brooke knows she’s hurt underneath it all, hurt that the hours spent with their heads bent over a book, hairs brushing against each others’, was all for nothing. That what they’ve come to have is all for nothing.

“Please,” Brooke begs. “I didn’t mean it like that. Vanessa, I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me–teaching me to read and being my–my friend. I’d never turn down help from you.” She pauses. “But this is all I’ve ever wanted, and he’ll keep trying to take it away from me. Doing this myself is the only way he’ll stop.”

“But do you know the things he could do…” Vanessa’s hand flies over her mouth, like she’s afraid of mentioning the ways Ron could hurt Brooke, in case she speaks them into being.

“I know.” Brooke says softly, and Vanessa crumbles. Her shoulders heave and her head, always raised to the world, lowers to the floor. Brooke opens her arms for Vanessa to nestle into, her tiny body trembling under Brooke’s hold.

“Sorry,” Vanessa manages. “I just–I really care about you.”

“Me too,” Brooke says. “I’ve never cared this much about anyone.”

Vanessa burrows her face in deeper. “Are you scared?” her voice is barely more than a whisper.

“No.” Brooke is telling the truth, but from the way Vanessa looks up at her in fear and surprise, she knows she has to explain. “I’m not just pretending to be fine, I promise. This…this is what I do. I’ve trained almost every day for four years. I can win. I know I can.” Just like the joust, there’s no room for self-doubt. She’s been fighting all her life, whether it was for food or the right to train, and that’s what she has to think of this as. Just another fight, another practice round in the yard with Patrick giving her instructions as her sword whistled through the air.

They stand there together, Vanessa’s breaths gentle against Brooke’s chest, each puff pulling her farther from the battlefield. Brooke could hold on forever, but Scarlet’s voice comes from the hall and says they have ten minutes. Vanessa steps back and just like that, the moment is over, the air heavy with what’s about to happen, what Brooke has to do.

“I can do this,” Brooke says to steady them both.

Vanessa nods, biting her lip before looking up at Brooke with a grin. “Can I give you a kiss for good luck?” Her eyes light up with hope. “You don’t need it, but—“

Brooke leans down and gives Vanessa her answer. It’s like she’s flying, her heart leaping out of her chest and her body aware of every sensation, of her hands burying themselves in Vanessa’s curls while Vanessa holds tight to Brooke’s hips, of the blush in her cheeks and the heat warming her down to her toes. She has to hold back a whine when Vanessa pulls away, wanting to pull her back and spend the whole day like this.

“Let me do your breastplate,” Vanessa says, her touch trailing up Brooke’s sides and making her shiver.

“Promise you won’t leave anytime soon?” Vanessa is half-teasing, half-serious. If Brooke loses today, there’s no saying what will happen to her, but Brooke doesn’t think anything could be worse than leaving Vanessa.

“Promise. Oh, and Vanessa, what you said the other day, about being alone… I just want to tell you, you’ll never be alone with me,” Brooke says, taking Vanessa’s hand as they head to the grounds. Vanessa leans in close, and Brooke knows she’ll never be alone with Vanessa either.

My brave little knight, her mother would say when she put Brooke to bed, tucking her under the blankets and kissing her cheek, then her nose, then her forehead.

Today, she’ll be braver than ever.

—

Vanessa doesn’t hear a word as her mother gives rules for the duel. She can’t focus on anything but Brooke getting hurt, bleeding on the ground–but Brooke is a good fighter, she knows that. Brooke won’t lose this. She can’t, because Vanessa doesn’t want to be without her. She’s not losing Brooke, the strongest, sweetest person she’s ever known.

Vanessa’s had kisses before, in the broom closet around the corner from the great hall, filled with heavy breaths and too-wet lips and stepped-on feet. But none of them were like her kiss with Brooke. That was what a kiss is like in dreams: even as her neck strained from stretching up to Brooke, it filled her with joy until she thought she’d hit the ceiling, safe and warm and finding a home in Brooke’s arms, her entire body really alive for the first time.

She tries to stand tall, to be brave like Brooke, but all Vanessa can see are the open spots in her armor. Brooke is only wearing a breastplate and arm and leg guards, and there’s so many work-roughened, yet soft parts of her body exposed to the sword. Vanessa forces herself to ignore her fears of Brooke’s skin getting cut and broken, a fear that stabs her heart with each breath as the duel begins.

If there’s an art to sword-making, Brooke brings that same art to fighting, and as much as Vanessa wants to close her eyes until it’s over, she’s mesmerized by how Brooke moves. Her sword glides through the air so quick and smooth it’s like another limb, her feet blurring against the grass as she weaves out of Ron’s attacks like a dance. It’s beautiful somehow: the sweat dampening her hair, the sun sparkling off her armor, the flexing and rippling of her muscles with each sword swing. Energy and confidence pour off Brooke in waves toward the chairs Vanessa and her mother sit in.

Vanessa’s eyes fly back and forth. Brooke swings her sword, and Ron blocks it. He goes for the attack, and Brooke slips into defense, neither gaining an inch as steel clangs through the world. There’s tiny hits here and there, a cut on Ron’s leg and one on Brooke’s arm that stains her white sleeve red, but no clear winner. Brooke finally gets a good one above Ron’s hip, but it’s not enough, and Vanessa watches in horror as his shield slams into Brooke’s knee, the one Vanessa bandaged last week, still bruised and likely sore even if Brooke doesn’t show it.

Brooke falls with a groan that makes Vanessa ache, makes her want to take the pain from Brooke because she knows Brooke has had enough already. Vanessa’s heart stops as Ron stands over her with his sword, which is suddenly bigger than ever as it’s poised to hurt Brooke.

“You stupid peasant girl,” Ron hisses. “Thinking you could beat me.” He brings his sword down–

A noise somewhere between a gasp and a scream escapes Vanessa’s lips before she can stop it, clapping her hands over her mouth a second later.

The noise must spark something in Brooke, maybe the reminder of her promise, and she gets her sword up in time to block the hit. She springs to her feet, her hits fiercer, more focused, flying at Ron so fast that he can barely stop them. There’s one last clang, and then Brooke flicks her wrist and sends the sword flying out of Ron’s hand. Vanessa leaps to her feet, heart caught in her throat as she watches the rest.

Brooke brings her blade to his throat and grins. “Do you yield?”

Ron spits at her. “No.”

Brooke inches closer, the tip of her sword nearly at his throat. “Do you admit the diamonds getting stolen was your fault?”

“No.”

Brooke presses the sword-tip right against his throat, enough to draw blood if Ron moves. “Do you confess?”

Ron bites his lip, wavering as he realizes that Brooke won’t back down. “Fine! I was trying to find a princess to kiss me and wasn’t guarding the south wing.”

Brooke glares. “And?”

“And I blamed you for it to get you off the guard. You didn’t deserve it. You got lucky, beating me–”

“I’ve beat you twice now. Luck has nothing to do with it,” Brooke says coolly, turning to the queen. “Did you hear his confession, Your Majesty?”

Vanessa’s mother stands. “I did.” She walks over to them, instructing Brooke to lower her weapon. Even though it’s because she’s won, Vanessa can’t help the clenching fear over Brooke being defenseless.

The queen turns to Ron. “I believe you said banishment was fair, Ron? Well, you’re stripped of your knighthood and are no longer part of this guard or this kingdom. You’ll leave this city now, and if you ever come back, the guards have orders to kill.”

Vanessa shivers at her mother’s words. She remembers the day her father died, how her mother cried at first but then squared her shoulders and said she would do her best for the kingdom until Vanessa came of age. There’s some similarity in her mother and Brooke, two people of steel with velvet underneath if you could get close enough to see it.

Ron is escorted from the grounds, and Vanessa runs across the grass as Brooke staggers toward her.

Vanessa comes to a stop in front of Brooke, wanting so badly to hug her and know that she’s really here and whole, yet not wanting to hurt her any more or cause her pain. “Brooke, are you–your arm–your knee–”

“It hurts,” Brooke admits, and Vanessa knows Brooke must trust her to voice it. “But I’ll manage.”

“Good.” Vanessa hesitantly holds Brooke’s hand, since there’s no cuts there, squeezing tight and letting her heart slow down, accepting that they’re both safe. “And don’t ever do that to me again!”

Brooke laughs. “I promise.”

Her mother clears her throat, and they both look up.

“If it’s all right with both of you,” she begins, “I think we should return to the castle and knight Brooke today. I see no point to delay any further.”

Brooke grins, her eyes wide and shining, and for a minute Vanessa sees the child she once was, using tree branches as swords and hoping for a real one someday, hoping to be like the knights of legends and protect the kingdom.

Vanessa wishes she could tell that little girl that her dream would come true, and she hugs Brooke now and hopes that young part of her gets the message.

—

Brooke walks through the throne room with her head raised high. She did everything she set out to do, everything she ever wanted. All the stories of honor and bravery and loyalty are her life now, virtues she’ll live by to keep the kingdom safe. She earned her place here, earned her knighthood, and even found someone she loves. She wishes her mother was here to see it, but Brooke smooths a finger over her ring and knows that she is.

She comes to a stop before Vanessa and her mother, both wearing identical grins.

“Please kneel,” Vanessa says, and Brooke does, grateful for the pillow Vanessa set down for Brooke’s injured knee, which was freshly bandaged, along with her arm, by Yvie’s expert touch.

Vanessa leans forward, buckling under the weight of a sword as tall as she is. “I don’t think I’ll drop this on you,” she whispers.

“That’s comforting,” Brooke mutters with a smile.

Vanessa winks at her, beginning the words Brooke has dreamed of hearing her whole life, words she’s answered in her sleep. “Do you promise to be honorable, loyal, and courageous in your service to the kingdom?”

“I do.”

“Do you promise to protect this kingdom, its land, and its people?”

“I do.”

Vanessa grunts as she lifts the sword, touching it to each of Brooke’s shoulders. “Brooke Lynn Hytes, I name you a knight of the kingdom.”

Brooke leaps to her feet, the pain from the fight suddenly gone. There’s nothing but the joy in her chest, the pride in herself and all she’s done, the wide smile on Vanessa’s face as she wraps her arms around Brooke.

“Do you promise to kiss me right now?” Vanessa giggles in Brooke’s ear.

Brooke lowers her lips to Vanessa’s and she thinks that sometimes, happily ever afters do exist.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #yvie oddly #branjie #lesbian au #knight au #chivalry fell on its sword #athena2 #tw heatstroke #tw mild violence #tw mild blood/injury #concrit welcome #submission

6 notes · View notes

fandoms-equal-life · 6 years ago

Text

Rewriting Their Stars Once Again - The Greatest Showman Fanfiction

Chapter 2: A Combination of Panic and Wonder

Originally Posted on Ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13365846/chapters/30845328#workskin

Summary:

Phillip has heard the news of Anne’s pregnancy, so what now?

Notes:

Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos! This fanfic got 1390+ hits in a week and I have never even written a fanfic before. It amazes me! Now that I’m not a nervous wreck like I was when posting the first chapter let me clear some things up!

1. I realize that periods are an actual sign of pregnancy, but my brain is weird, and I thought about how awful it would be to do trapeze pregnant.

2. To clear the timeline up for anyone wondering, a lovely reader named Madi told me that P.T. met Jenny Lind in 1849, so the movie most likely takes place a couple years before and after that. So, I’m placing these first chapters in December 1853.

Please leave comments about what you think! I love hearing feedback!

Chapter Two: A Combination of Panic and Wonder

Pregnant.

Never in a million years did Phillip Carlyle think he would be a father.

With his role model of a father, especially.

As he sits on the ground with Anne sobbing in his arms, he has no idea how to react. He is elated. Absolutely elated. He loves Anne with all his heart and would do anything to make her happy.

But they couldn't have picked a worse time to get pregnant.

The circus isn't doing as well as he would like.

The last couple months, the crowds have started to decrease. No matter what Phillip tries: new performers, new dance numbers, cheaper tickets, the crowds are not as big as they used to be.

When Barnum retired a couple years ago, (that's what he calls it, but all the circus performers know he'll always come back for more) he gave half of the show's income to Phillip, but all of the responsibility. He manages the money, advertisements, random problems (including any animal related ones), and all the performers. He loves his job, but lately there is more responsibility than he usually handles. First, he gave the original performers a raise because, at the time, the circus was doing very well. They deserved it and he wanted to show his immense gratitude for their beautiful show. Next, the rent on the docks was raised. Not by much, but enough to get his problems started. When summer ended, and the children went back to school, the crowds started to lessen, and the financial problems started to grow. Now he was dipping into his own savings to keep the circus running smoothly.

Phillip chalked it up to the people of New York lacking imagination at the moment. The rising tensions between the North and the South is putting a damper on every soul. No one wishes to share their imaginations and wonder, even if right now is the perfect time to get lost in the magic of the circus.

The oddities knew nothing of the struggles that the circus was facing, not even Barnum. Phillip has been keeping everyone extremely distracted. He gives Barnum and all the performers the correct amount of money each month, even if that means placing less money into his own bank account. He lies to the performers about the number of tickets sold each night, tells the Barnum family to come on Saturdays when he knows the most people will be there, and he sends the circus performers out to celebrate so he can manage any problem alone. He knows he can ask the circus for help, as they are his family, but he refuses to do so.

People might say it is his ego making him do this, but really all Phillip wants is to see the happy faces of his family. Lettie belting out a song, Tom riding his horse and shooting his gun, and Anne flying through the sky with her brother are what bring him the most joy in life.

Phillip honestly thought his plan to keep the circus running was working smoothly. He had bought Anne this small apartment about a year ago, knowing that she would not want to be far from the circus or someplace extravagant. Also, due to the fact that people are cruel and judgmental towards Anne and Phillip's relationship, finding a place to live is not an easy task. Phillip always has enough money to pay rent, keep plenty of food on the table, buy any necessities, and to spoil Anne a little (she always states that he hates when she spoils her, but that look in her eye and smile on her face when she tells him off says otherwise). Besides the fact that he could tell Anne was somewhat worried that he started to work on Sundays, Phillip thought everything would be fine until summer came.

Phillip did not think he would need large sums of money at the place his life is right now.

But currently, the best thing in his life was crying on the ground while Phillip was staring at the wall, thinking of the secrets he holds.

He knew he had to compose himself for Anne. Pretend the circus was not a mess and that he was ready for their life to change in an instant. He knew that Anne did not enjoy losing control in situations, so that was one reason this was upsetting to her. They were young, in love, and worked for a circus, this is not the exact life a normal pregnant couple would have.

Finally, after slightly composing himself, he picked Anne up and carried her to the couch. He sat down, placed her in his lap, and held her until she was ready to talk.

After about 10 more minutes of panic and tears, Anne started to feel better. She shifted to the seat next to Phillip and looked up at him.

Phillip knew he needed to say something. He wanted to say something comforting and assuring, but in his current state, what actually came out of his mouth was, "Pregnant, huh?"

At that, Anne started to laugh. She had so much anxiety built up in her after that doctor's appointment that he could tell she needed this laugh.

After Anne stopped laughing at Phillip's question, he asked her to explain what happened the doctor's appointment.

"Well, I think the doctor thought I was ditzy because as he started asking me questions about my symptoms, and all the signs were pointing to pregnancy. Besides the vomiting, I have felt out of touch with my emotions. The other day, W.D. ran into my shoulder when passing me in a rush, and I almost bit his head off! Plus, I have not bled in two months, which I know is not something we usually discuss, but it is usually very irregular anyways so the thought of conceiving a child never crossed my mind-

"When the doctor told me I was pregnant, I was transported into a different world. The only thing I could do is look at the wall. Charity - bless her heart - rushed the doctor out of the room and asked all the questions. She was the one that told me I was about two months pregnant, almost three. She also told me the horrible morning sickness would most likely fade in a about a month, but pregnancy is different for everyone."

Anne was talking so fast that Phillip was having a hard time keeping up. He was too young to remember the birth of his baby brother, so all of this is just as new to him as it is Anne. When she finished talking, it took Phillip a minute to comprehend what she said.

When Phillip did not know how to respond he did the last thing Anne would expect, he kissed her.

She most likely thought he would run his hand through his hair or start pacing the living room, one of the many bad habits he has obtained once he stopped drinking.

Instead, he kissed her with so much love and passion, he knew by the way her body melted into his that she felt content for the first time in hours. This is what they both needed in that moment, the feeling as if nothing could stop them when they put their heads and hearts together.

When they separated, Phillip smiled at his love. She no longer looked as distressed, and this brought him great joy. In that moment, he knew he had to somehow fix the circus's problems before the baby is born. He wants their child to see the magical place Phillip and Anne created and be proud of their masterpiece. He wants a life of love and wonder for this baby that he never had.

After a few seconds of smiles and silence, Phillip asked a very important question, "When we tell the circus about the newest addition, can we place bets on the sex of the baby?"

Anne told Phillip it is traditional to wait until the mother is 3 months pregnant to tell the family, but Phillip is acting like a kid on Christmas thinking about announcing the news.

"Charity wouldn't tattle on us, so P.T. and the girls do not know of the news. Caroline and Helen are going to be so excited for a little sibling! Caroline will have someone else to boss around and Helen won't be the baby of the circus anymore! W.D. is probably going to hate me at first, but then realize he will be an uncle. I'm kind of hoping Lettie bursts into song, is that an odd wish?

The shine in Phillips eyes are so bright. He is so excited. Anne knows there is a part of her that is excited too, but worry is taking over her mind. The first thing freaking her out is the size of their apartment. She knows that Phillip owns half of the circus, which means they can buy a bigger place, but this is New York. Houses are expensive, plus Phillip is a white man with a colored woman, who knows who would serve them. Also, the home needs to be near the circus. Plus, Anne has noticed that Phillip has been spending considerably large amounts of time at the circus lately. He used to never work on Sundays, the circus's day off, but lately he will leave early Sunday mornings while Anne was still asleep and come back home before noon. He also stopped celebrating with the performers after shows. He would always insist that he would catch up with them, but then he never showed. Anne would come home to Phillip fast asleep. Some people think it is because of his old alcohol problem, but Anne knows he is stronger than that. Now that Anne thinks about it, this is the brightest Phillip has smiled in a couple months.

There are so many things running through her head right now, she can only imagine what her headspace will be like at four months or six months, or even at nine. There is so much preparation for this little life before it enters the world. Phillip might be ecstatic, but Anne feels the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Chapters 1 ~ 3 ~ 4 ~ 5 ~ 6 ~ 7 ~ 8 ~ 9 ~ 10 ~ 11

#the greatest showman #my fanfics #phillip carlyle #anne wheeler #Zac efron #zendaya

0 notes

kittenwritesstuff · 8 years ago

Text

P.S. I love you - part X (final)

Summary: When your husband, Tony, dies, you are convinced that your life ended along with his. On the day of your 30th birthday you receive a surprise from Tony and with every letter from him, you start to learn how to live on your own - based on a plot of ‘P.S. I love you’ for @hunters-from-stark-tower‘s 3K Celebration Movie AU Challenge. Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader, Tony Stark x reader (in flashbacks) Warnings: none Words: 1.932 A/N: This is it - the last part. Thank you all for reading and commenting and I hope you’ll enjoy the ending!

It took you four days to arrange everything.

First, the place – Yankees’ stadium, you deemed, was the best one since you and your companion both loved them.

Second, the partner. Scott didn’t answer your calls for two days after the lunch fiasco, but after you’ve texted him and apologized from the bottom of your heart. He wasn’t really eager to meet you, at first, but as you were more and more persuasive, he finally gave in and agreed.

Third, the letter. Last letter from Tony is put in your coat’s pocket and as you wait for Scott to arrive, you stroke it with your fingers, feeling as if Tony was encouraging you to do it. To do the right thing.

And you believe that what you are about to do is, indeed, the right thing.

A shadow moves on the tunnel’s ground and you turn your gaze in its direction, your eyes meeting Scott’s confused ones.

“Didn’t know you can book your own game.”

“Not a game, just the place.”

“Look, Y/N, I don’t know what the hell is it all about, but I don’t like it,” he admits sincerely, raising his hands a bit in a defensive gesture.

“Oh, you’re out of your pills?” you jest, and fish the letter out of your pocket. Scott looks at it and gives you a frown, his brows knitted into one above his questioning gaze.

“It’s okay, I want you to read it for me.”

“You sure?”

You nod in reply, tilting your head after you handed him the envelope, the two of you step onto sward and you head onto the platform. When you get there, you wave your hand at Scott, encouraging him to start reading.

He opens the envelope and takes the pages out, unfolding the letter as he clears his throat. He’s unsure about the idea, it’s clear to see but you want to carry on before you can change your mind.

“My dear Y/N,” he begins, his eyes go briefly at you and you nod, pacing the space of the platform, “I don’t have much time. Not literally, you just went out for ice-cream and you’ll be home soon. I have a feeling this is going to be last letter, baby, because there is only one thing left to tell you. I won’t ask you to go down memory lane again, or to buy a lamp. Those things, you can take care of them yourself, without my help. This one is to tell you how much you changed me. You made me a man, by loving me, Y/N. And for that, I am eternally grateful.. literally. If you can promise me anything, baby, promise me that whenever you’re sad, or angry, or unsure or find yourself losing faith – try seeing yourself through my eyes. Thank you for the honor of being my wife. I regret nothing, not even a second. How lucky I am! You made my life, Y/N, you made it better. But I’m just a chapter in yours. And there will be others, I promise.”

Scott takes a shaky breath, visibly touched by Tony’s words and you blink few times, holding back tears. You’re standing still now, waiting for him to finish.

“So here comes the big one. Don’t be afraid to fall in love again. Don’t run away from it. Watch out for that signal, when life as you know it ends. P.S. I will always love you.”

“Alright, Scott, come over here,” you beckon him, your voice a bit unsure but you know it’s right. Tony gave you a blessing, didn’t he? And maybe Scott is the one you should start a new chapter with, even if you didn’t think about him that way before.

He climbs on the platform, standing in front of you, a small grimace on his face.

“Now what?”

“Now you kiss me. That’s it, yeah. Kiss me.”

“Okay, alright, I’m on it,” he shrugs and leans in, his face coming closer and closer to yours until there is no space between the two of and your lips are pressed together.

You close your eyes, moving your mouth slowly against his, pulling yourself closer to him. Scott moves his hand to cradle your head but in the last moment, he changes his mind and step away.

“Good gracious, it’s like kissing my sister!”

“Oh, thank God, I thought I was the only one feeling like that,” you pant, wiping at your lips and he gazes at you, half-amused, half-repulsed.

“You know, I dreamt about his moment for a while but it was bad. Not that you’re a bad kisser, it’s just…”

“Not right, I know.”

He lets out a breathy laugh, nodding his head.

“So, weird friendship?”

“Yeah, weird friendship sounds perfect. Do you have any plans for New Year’s Eve?”

“No, why?”

You smile softly, taking his hand in yours.

“Will you go to Natasha’s wedding with me?”

He beams, clutching a hand to his chest.

“Like a date?” he chuckles when you nod eagerly. “Sure, just don’t vomit on me.”

“Can’t promise that.”

_____

December 31st

You collapse on your chair, panting heavily after yet another crazy dance with Scott. He’s with Wanda now, swirling her around like a madman, but your sister seems to enjoy it.

A giggle rings from your left and you shift to look at Peggy. She looks absolutely stunning in a green dress Nat chose for her bridesmaids, her baby belly round and adorable.

“Can I stroke your tummy, please?” you plea and she nods, smiling widely when you rest your hand on her stomach.

“You’re be that aunt that will spoil our kid rotten,” she jokes, although affectionately, “and Steve joked you should pat his crotch, too, since he help make this baby.”

“Oh, you want me to touch his crotch, cause I don’t!”

“Naaah, he better be happy with only me patting his crotch.”

The two of you burst into laughter, drawing Steve’s surprised gaze but he only shrugs and continues walking toward Nat and Clint to have a dance with the bride.

Your lips curl into a gleeful smile when you stare at the just-married couple. Clint’s eyes are so full of love and adoration and Nat just can’t stop looking at him as if Clint’s world greatest treasure. They’re going to be so very happy and you couldn’t be happier for them.

“So, you’ve opened your own boutique,” Peggy points and you nod, reaching for a glass of water.

“After taking a loan and countless hours spent on planning the whole thing, yes I have opened my own shoe shop. I’m a designer now, Pegs, remember it.”

“I’m so proud you, Y/N,” she says fondly, stroking your hair and you flash her a warm smile, feeling your heart swell. You can never thank them enough for being your friends and supporting you during last year and you only hope you’re being a good friend to them, too.

All of you have new chapters ahead, but you’re not afraid anymore. Not angry at God that he’s taken away your husband, not sad that you wake up alone. You finally understood what your mother meant when she asked you to stop waiting. You just need to take your life in your hands and squeeze out what you want from it.

And you can’t wait see what more you’re able to wring out.

_____

A month later

Making yourself comfortable, you prop your back against the pillows, placing your notebook on your bended legs. Pressing a pen to the blank page, you begin writing.

“Dear Tony,

You said you wanted me to fall in love again and maybe I will. But not now. There are all kinds of love out there and I need to focus on them, before I take care of mine. This is my one and only life and I want to make the best of it. It’s ugly and hard and short and sometimes terrible, and none of us comes out of it alive. I don’t have a plan – you said once that my plans never work out anyway – expect for one. I want to make my mom laugh again. She’s never seen the world. She’s never been to Ireland. So, yes, I am taking her when we started.

I don’t know how you did it, honey, but you brought me back from the dead. I’ll write to you again soon, pinky promise.

P.S…. guess what?”

You let out a breath as you fold the page and slide it into an envelope. You sign it with Tony’s name and get up, pull out a drawer from Tony’s nightstand and put the letter in there.

With a bright smile on your face, you go the living room and sit before your laptop. It’s time to book the tickets.

_____

Spring

“I’ve never seen so much green in one place,” your mother marvels as you stroll down the country road leading to the Stark’s farm. She seems to be stunned by the landscapes, amazed but content. A smile never once disappeared from her face since you’ve landed in Ireland.

It’s nice to see her smile so much.

“You called them, right?”

“Yes, I did. They said they can’t wait to finally meet you.”

The two of you come closer to the farm, watching as men walk around, from a barn to a big truck parked at the side of the road, stacks of hay in their grasps.

Your mom gives you a nervous glance as you lead her towards the house, walking past workers.

“Y/N?” a surprised voice calls and you look over your shoulder, seeing Bucky exiting the barn with a stack in his hold.

“Bucky!” you cheer, halting as he approaches you.

“Visiting your in-laws again?”

“Yeah, I thought I’d bring my mom to see Ireland, too.”

“That’s grand. Nice to meet you, ma’am,” he bows his head a little, greeting your mom and she looks at you curiously. You’ll have a questioning later, that’s for sure.

Another man approaches you and your mom smiles politely at him when he drops the stack he’s carrying.

“Dad, you okay?” Bucky asks and makes to help his father, but the latter waves a hand at him.

“Not every day I see such a lovely gal, son,” the man says and smiles cheekily at your mom, who, much to your amazement, bursts into a fit of giggles. It’s a sweet, melodic sound and you blink, awe-struck by it.

“See you around, then, Y/N,” Bucky says as he pats his father’s back, hinting that they should get back to work.

“Sure,” you nod and before he goes too far away an idea strikes you. You rummage through your bag and fish out a small notebook, opening it and scribbling your cell number and your e-mail address with a pencil you found in your bag.

“Wait!” you call after him and Bucky turns around after he throws the hay on the truck. “Here. Call me or write me, whatever suits you best.”

You slide the note into a chest pocket of his flannel and he flashes you a warm smile, thanking you. You then come back to your mother, resuming the short walk to Maria’s and Howard’s front door.

When you stand before it, your mom looks at you, evidently excited and you ask,

“ready?”

“Yes, I am. You, darling?”

You take a breath as you raise your hand to press the doorbell, your heart pounding in your chest – not from fear or nervousness, but from excitement.

“I’m ready.”

And damn sure you are.

#stark tower's movie challenge #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #tony #tony x reader #tony stark x reader #x reader #reader insert #marvel #marvelfic #movie!au #ps i love you

24 notes · View notes