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vemuabhi · 3 years

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The Wedding Day

Hello everyone!! This is one of my piece for the Sanji fest 2021 hosted by @burnthoneymint I hope you like the story! Thanks for letting me take part in this!

Prompt : “Say something. Are you hurt?”

Word count : 2K

Warnings : nothing but Fluff

A/N : I was listening to EXO Kai Amnesia from Mmmh album (clickable) while I wrote this. You can check it out if you want. It got me the feels when I was writing this. (You won’t regret it)

Please do refrain from commenting the spoilers please!

Gif and picture not mine

It was the most awaited day. You wore your lavender dress and stood in front of the mirror as you looked at yourself one last time before leaving your apartment. You went to the destination which was the beautiful castle and went inside. You walked to the room allocated for the bridesmaids. Yes you were one of the bridesmaid for one of your dear friend. You greeted the other bridesmaid, Kaya and went to the room of the bride. There stood your beautiful friend. In a non-traditional peach coloured mermaid dress. You went towards her and stood beside her.

“You look beautiful Nami”, you said. She smiled and thanked you. You knew she was nervous. You took her hand in yours and assured her everything is going to be alright. Even though never met her partner (But heard of of course) nor even Nami’s friends, you knew Nami, and she would make the perfect choice. After some encouragement, you left the room.

You were searching for restroom. The castle was so huge and had hallways and so many closed rooms, which was so confusing, like a maze. You searched for a while and went to other side of the castle, where the partner of bride was supposed to be. You went towards that place and saw a person with a straw hat dressed in black tuxedo. Beside him was a person with long nose in the same outfit, stuffing themselves with food. ‘They are eating this early’, you thought. You passed them and went ahead.

While you turned in a corner, you bumped into a tall man dressed in the same black tux, the previous two were wearing. He had wavy black hair, had freckles on his face and was really gorgeous. You apologised, as well as he did and you went ahead. ‘So handsome and polite’, you thought.

‘Where the hell was this bloody washroom?’ you cursed inside your head and somehow at the end of one hallway, you found the washroom. 'Thank god!', you thought as you went towards it. You saw a man in a fine black suit, blond hair with a cigarette in his hand. He was pacing fast and seemed nervous. You walked passed him into the restroom.

After a couple of minutes, you came out of the washroom and saw that this man was still in the same place. Except for the fact that he wasn’t pacing now but, he sat down and placed his right hand on his hair and was mumbling something. ‘What is this man’s deal? So weird’, you thought to yourself and were about to pass him but you heard sobs. You gulped and slowly looked at him. He was sobbing with his big eyes watery. ‘Why was he crying all of a sudden’, you thought. You really wanted to leave but you felt a bit guilty. You sighed and crouched down before him. But you maintained a safe distance from him because you felt like it.

You asked, “Hey! You seem… not okay. is everything alright?” but he continued to sob like a chibi anime character as he looked at you. ‘What was this person’s deal?’, you thought as you questioned again, “Say something. Are you hurt?” this time handing him your kerchief which he accepted and wiped his tears.

“I…”, he said in between his sobs and continued, “I’m scared. I am nervous. This is a big responsibility and Nami san gave me this opportunity but”, he said and wiped his tears again. You continued to listen to him as he sobbed. ‘Why the hell is he so nervous as if he was the groom. Im sure not even the groom would cry like this’, you thought but listened anyway because it seemed interesting.

“I am…”, he continued, “So honoured but… I cant stop this nervousness. I keep getting these negative thoughts like ‘What if I mess up’ or ‘What if I don’t do it properly’ or 'what if Nami san thinks she made the wrong decision', so I am crying like this in front a beautiful bridesmaid”, he said as he again started to sob as he placed his hands on his face. ‘Oh, he said I was beautiful!’, you felt happy in your heart but didn’t let it show on your face.

“See, look at me”, you said and he slowly looked at you. You looked into his blue eyes and said, “Listen to me. You can do it. Don’t worry. Believe in yourself. You won’t mess up. Follow your heart. Be positive. See, I never met you. I never saw you. But I believe in you. So don’t worry.”

You rambled those words in a way to cheer him up and thankfully, he kinda took those words seriously and flashed you a smile. He got up and offered you his hand. You took it and got up. He thanked you as he bowed. You waved at him and walked to the Nami's room. Thankfully not getting lost. There you saw a raven haired beauty, who wasn’t there when you got here.

“Hello mademoiselle, I am Y/N, can I know your name”, you said as you offered her your hand. She giggled as she placed her hand in yours and replied, “Robin”

“Such a beautiful name for a beautiful woman”, you said and everyone in the room laughed. You looked around confused and the maid of honour, Nojiko said, “You are just like Sanji, the ladies man”

‘Who was that Sanji the ladies man? Why did they tell, I was like him?’, you thought

“By the way, where were you all this time?”, asked Kaya

“I was looking for restroom. Damn it was so far away. I’m happy I didn’t get lost”, you complained.

“But… there is a restroom right here”, said Robin chan as she pointed towards a door inside the room.

“And also in the bridesmaids room”, said Nojiko.

"And also literally in every single hallway", added Kaya.

Your eyes and mouth were wide open as they said that. “I..What…but...”, you tried to say something but ended with, “Damn it”, everyone in the room laughed again as you lowered your head in defeat.

Finally it was the time of the wedding. After Kaya, walked with a man with long nose. Then you and the man with freckles whom you bumped into before offered his arm to you. 'Ahh! The handsome man!', you thought as you both linked your arms. He smiled at you and you both walked down the aisle.

Then you saw a familiar face in the centre of the place with droopy shoulders. ‘That cry baby blond is here’, you thought. He looked at you and smiled. You smiled back as you straightened your back. He got your indication and straightened his shoulders and nodded at you. ‘Damn that was cute’, you thought. Then came the beautiful Robin chan, with the man still wearing his straw hat.

You took a deep breath and turned as you looked at the blond. He was biting his lower lip with stress. He noticed your stare and looked at you. You smiled as you gave him a thumbs up. He nodded and you both looked at the maid of honour, Nojiko and the man of honour, who had green hair come in.

Nojiko stood beside Robin and said, “Zoro almost got lost for the third time”. For which Robin replied with a giggle. ‘Her laugh is so precious’, you thought. Then the music started to play. Everyone stood up and looked at the door.

There she came, in her beautiful, traditional, pearl white princess dress. Her veil covering her face and she held the beautiful Gloxinia flowers, which was so unique. She was so beautiful. You smiled as she came slowly and stood before the blond.

“So that is Vivi, so beautiful”, you said as she turned to look towards the door. Then came your friend, in her non-traditional peach mermaid dress, with her veil back on her beautiful hair as she held the pretty baby romantica roses which you selected for her. You really were touched at how she valued your opinion for this. You were so happy for her getting married. She came and stood beside the other beautiful bride Vivi.

You and the blond looked at each other one last time and he started to officiate the wedding. Nami and Vivi said their vows. They were so perfect for each other and loved one other to the core. You wished you could find a person who would love you unconditionally. They both exchanged rings. The blond wiped the corner of his eye with the kerchief you gave and said, “I declare you as wife and wife, you both may now kiss”.

Then the both brides kissed and walked together as the music was played by a famous musician named Brook. You tried not to cry at the moment. Everything in this wedding was so precious and emotional that you were trying so hard not to cry. After taking photos and congratulating them, then came the main event. The bouquet toss.

You stood a bit far, from the crowd and tried to calm yourself and not to cry. You looked as the flower bouquet came towards you. As if it was a reflex, you caught the bouquet. It was the Gloxinia flowers bouquet, which Vivi held. As if that was a snap, you couldn’t control your emotions and started to cry. You walked and stood a bit farther and looked at the pretty flowers. The blond officiant saw that you were crying and started to walk towards you. The second bouquet of baby romantic roses was thrown and you looked at the flying bouquet as it landed in the arms of a person. You looked and now started to laugh. The blond officiant caught the bouquet and everyone started to laugh at it. Well, it was a refreshment for you as well as the people in the wedding, 'cause everyone remembers a good laugh.

Then the next event was where everyone danced. You calmed yourself down and stopped crying. This wedding was very overwhelming for you and you loved it. You sat at a table alone as people danced with one other. You looked at your flowers and smiled as you touched their soft petals.

“Would you like to dance with me, milady”, asked a familiar voice. You turned around and saw that it was the blond officiant. You smiled at him and said, “I am not a good dancer though. You may want to dance with someone else”

He smiled and said, “I can… lead you though. It would be an honour for me to dance with you milady”. Then he offered his hand to you. You couldn’t say no to that sweet request so, you took his hand and got up. He gently placed his hand on your waist and started to lead you. Even when you stamped his foot a few times, he just smiled but didn’t complain. You liked how gentle he was with you. He had a rose flower in his tuxedo pocket, which was from the bouquet he caught earlier.

“The bouquet symbolises the good fortune for the people who caught it”, you say as you carefully touch his rose.

“I didn’t believe these kind of stuff but, here I am, dancing with the most beautiful bridesmaid, so i guess its true after all”, he replied as he looked at you. You blushed as you slightly tapped his shoulder and said, “Cheesy aren’t you” to which he said, “It’s just a spoon of it. If you spend time with me, you’ll get to know how much more cheesy I can be”, he said confidently. You really liked this confident side of his. So contrast to him crying in the hallway.

"Very confident huh. So would you like me to think of you as the cry baby officiant or would you tell me your name”, you said for which he pouted and replied, “That’s not true...totally.... Well, the name is Sanji, milady”

“Oh! So… Sanji, the ladies’ man”, you said and he scoffed.

“I wish”, he sighed then continued, “So, do you want me to think of you as the beautiful bridesmaid or would you give me your name”

“You know what, I kinda like it when you say that I’m beautiful. So, why not stick with that”, you replied making him whine. He of course continued to laugh with you though.

“Y/N, the name is Y/N, so stop whining”, you said to him making his face glow with happiness.

“Y/N, such a beautiful name for a beautiful lady”, he said, which made you realise why the girls compared to you two before.

You both talked as you danced and then exchanged your phone numbers. You smiled thinking of how you got into this.

You both really were into each other from the beginning itself. Fate was so... Unpredicted. It can bring two individuals together at one place, make them fall in love.

‘Who would have thought that the cry baby weirdo would become your husband in 3 years from now’

XOXOXOXOXOXO

I hope you liked it! Please forgive me for any mistakes.

Did you like the story or the song. Tell me how you feel by giving me a Like, Comment and Reblog. Thanks for Reading!

Please do refrain from commenting the spoilers please! I dont know much about Christian weddings, so if the order was a bit wrong, please forgive me

The Gloxinia flowers were mentioned by @nakunakunomi in her valentines event where she wrote for Sanji (Clickable) you can also see how the flowers look, in her post. I really loved the flower she mentioned and its meaning was hella romantic. I just felt like there were a lot of flowers other than Red roses and Lilies. Of couse they are beautiful, but we need to explore and look at different types of flowers too.

If you are wondering what Baby romantica flowers look like here, I took these image from google. I just fell in love with these roses and they have been in my favourites from a long time. Their name itself is so romantic and they look precious.

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tallstars-rewrite · 3 years

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Chapter 45

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The rain finally let up for a moment as Talltail and Jake sat side by side near the town's edge, shaking the water from their soaked pelts.

“I’m proud of you, Talltail,” Jake said. “For helping him. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”

Talltail leaned into Jake and they sat there in silence for a while. Once he was already soaked, the water bothered him less. Free of the scorched aftermath of the fire and the thick tree cover at last, Talltail paused to revel in the feeling of the fresh breeze in his whiskers. He swore if he tasted the air deeply enough it carried a faint scent of moor heather on it.

Talltail took a breath. “I think…” his voice trembled. “...I must go home.”

It was almost surprising that he said the word home, that part of him still considered it home after all this time. It felt right, the word came so easily and brought a fresh wave of longing crashing into him.

“I thought you would say that,” Jake said. “You must be worried...”

“WindClan has survived many battles, and they will continue to no matter what. But…if there’s a chance I could be of any help…I have to try. I can’t stay away without knowing for sure that they are safe.”

Although, they may not accept him back. It was alright if they didn’t. He just needed to be there to face the danger with them. Warn them, if he could. That would be enough. He wouldn’t dare let himself hope too much for more, at least not yet.

***

Talltail had no idea what he was going to do when he got home. But he hadn’t been planning farther than one step ahead this whole time, and changing that was difficult.

Giving ShadowClan territory a wide berth meant it would take awhile to reach the moor again. The journey felt impossibly long as the next new moon night drew closer. Talltail had not seen the moor in so long, part of him couldn’t quite believe he’d lay eyes on it again, nor could he imagine what would happen when he did. Would it look the same? Would it feel hostile or welcoming? But whatever his fears were, he knew with an unwavering certainty that had eluded him for moons that this was the right direction for him to take.

Until then, they could do nothing but walk and stop occasionally to hunt, tempering their pace so as not to exacerbate any wounds not fully closed. And Talltail intended to make the most of every moment spent with Jake. He had warned his companion well enough that he didn’t know what his clan would do when they got there. WindClan may have been alright with outsiders at the best of times, but not when they were so high on guard. And Jake coming to them with a treacherous deserter…

“If your clanmates are anything like you’ve told me, I bet they’ll be happy to see you. Ratfang told you that herself, didn’t she?” Jake said. “You worry far too much.”

“She was talking about Briarpaw, he’s not aggressive towards any cat! And he has no control over what everyone else does. I….I left with hardly a word spoken.”

“Well, then now's the time to try and make up for it.”

Talltail paused. “I know you know this, but you don’t have to come into--”

“If you’re about to tell me I don’t have to come with you again, I’m going to box your ears. I’m not going anywhere until you know where you’re going, and I know for sure you’re ok.”

“But you’ve never walked this far before!”

“I’ve never fought a fox before either, or run through a fire, or faced down whole groups of angry cats trying to kill me." Jake tilted his head in thought. "Well, I’ve faced down some angry cats before, but not so many in such a short amount of time.”

“And those are reasons to keep going? I may just drag you into a den of badgers next.”

“Then I'll come out of the experience with a badger pelt to line my nest with. What’s one more dangerous thing? At least let me walk you there. If things go badly, then you’ll be glad to have me around.”

“I’m always glad to have you around regardless. But that doesn’t make it a wise decision,” Talltail purred.

Jake flipped his tail nonchalantly. “I’ve never been a cat that’s known for making wise decisions, and I refuse to start now.”

Talltail heard the teasing purr in Jake’s mew, but he was warmed by his words anyway. It would be another half-day of walking until Highstones was in sight and they could see the moorland. The sun should start setting below the horizon by the time they got where they needed to go.

Talltail’s heart nervously fluttered in his chest with each step closer. There was no way to know what nightfall would bring. He had hoped to gather his courage during the final stretch, but as the sky began to blaze with the colors of sunset and the stark black outlines of Highstones in the distance rose into view, Talltail's heart pounded so hard he thought he might faint.

He remembered for a moment the last time he’d come here, walking the steps of ancient warriors to be presented before StarClan. Now, despite his nerves, the path felt...right. He walked as if he knew the way as well as he knew his own paws the nearer to home he got. Such a change from how disorienting the trails had been on his travels thus far.

Talltail looked up to the stars glinting above him; Silverpelt watching him intently. Are you happy I’m here? Talltail thought nervously. The stars didn’t answer of course. They peaked out from behind the sparse stray clouds that hid them, and cluster by cluster, the warriors of StarClan blinked open their twinkling eyes in the sky.

Jake nudged him. “I haven’t been able to see the stars for days. Maybe they’re here to greet us.”

Perhaps Jake was partially joking, but Talltail wanted to think there was truth to it.

“I hope you’re right. It is a relief to see them again,” he admitted. “The night skies have been cloudy for so long I almost forgot they were still there.”

Talltail hummed to himself as he stared into the quickly darkening expanse. The moor was finally, finally, in sight and it loomed ahead of them; a great hill silhouetted in shadow, the very top haloed by the last beams of setting sun in a dazzling warm gold the color of gorse blossoms, brighter than any forest fire. After being so sure he’d never lay eyes on it again, seeing it come into view felt like a dream that was too good to be real.

But it is real... I’m almost home.

He and Jake took their last rest. Talltail had trouble keeping his eyes off the hills. His whole body thrummed with nervous energy and his tail restlessly lashed. When stood up, Jake put his paws on his.

“Where are you going?”

“Uh...I don’t know, hunting?”

“We already ate. Stay with me for a while.” Jake’s voice was gentle and his eyes so sincere, and Talltail found himself slowly sinking back down. Jake rested his paws over his. “Just let yourself rest for a moment. We’ll probably need it.”

“I know, I just...Feel like there’s more I should do. To prepare or...something.”

“Prepare by resting. I swear, the moment you get a whiff of peace it’s like it scares you, and you always jump up and try to start running around again. We’re ok right now.”

“I suppose it’s a habit,” Talltail said sheepishly. Jake was teasing him, but Talltail knew he was right. He was unused to happiness, and to peace. It was so deeply ingrained inside of him to associate any moment of pleasure and contentment with guilt, with a sign that he must be selfishly indulging. He’d never truly allowed it. “I think relaxing is another thing I need to practice,” he admitted with a halfhearted chuckle.

“Great, I’ll help you practice!” Jake purred.

Talltail leaned his head against Jake’s flank, trying to calm his breathing, but he still couldn’t help thinking of all that could go wrong in the coming day. There was plenty to be worked up about. He wanted to, perhaps foolishly, hope he could find a way to prevent the battle to come. He remembered Ratfang’s words about their clan's history. Was a future of bitter rivalry and constant battle all they had to look forward to? When would it end? Fights were so ingrained into the life of a warrior he never thought there was really any way around it, and to hope otherwise felt dangerous. But he couldn’t pretend it hadn’t entered his head at some point that he longed for a future where he didn’t have to fear seeing his clan go through another fight. It was stronger than wanting to simply hurt ShadowClan back for Brackenwing, or for his father. He’d tried chasing vengeance. Of course, that was never going to work. It would have only led to more hurt. Maybe he could stop their clans from making the same mistake.

Perhaps it was a foolish dream to chase. A dangerous one. Clans that sought peace were sometimes viewed as weak instead. But maybe sparing bloodshed would be worth the risk, not having to lose more cats than was necessary. Remaining here on this hill, paralyzed by doubt or fear was the one thing he couldn’t do. He had to trust himself enough to act, to try something. Come what punishment may.

At least he wasn’t alone. Jake shifted beneath him, snoring quietly. Talltail stared fondly at the snoozing housecat's face and thought hard about how lucky he was to have stumbled upon such a wonderful cat. He noted the new knick in Jake's tufted ear, his ruffled brilliant ginger fur only partially groomed for all the walking they had to do, but the way the setting sun's light caught his pelt and turned it nearly red, Talltail had a brief thought that Jake may very well be the most beautiful cat he’d ever seen. What could he have possibly done to deserve him? How could he possibly be worthy?

No. He couldn’t keep obsessing over being worthy. In truth he didn’t know if he was, all he knew is he would do his best to make his loved ones happy either way. For the first time in ages, Talltail allowed himself a flicker of hope that maybe it really was possible to piece himself together into someone that he wanted to be.

Talltail nuzzled under Jake’s chin, getting an even louder purr in response. He had a brief vision of a future, of being allowed home, and bringing Jake with him. Such a brave, determined cat that took on foxes and patrols twice his size...Any clan should think of having him as an honor--at least, that’s what Talltail thought. And he would do everything he could to make sure Jake was taken care of, too. Whatever happened tomorrow, he could at least be sure of that.

Talltail lay there with his chin resting on Jake’s side for far longer than he intended, until the sun had disappeared fully and the stars grew brighter.

Jake cleared his throat. “Ok. We’re not stalling now, are we?”

“Um,” Talltail replied.

“I think if we wait any longer, you’ll only get more worked up. It’ll be alright.”

That was easy for Jake to say. Jake had no idea where they were going really. But he was still there and Talltail was again indescribably grateful for his presence. He wasn’t sure he’d even have the courage to set foot on the moor grass alone.

“Just a bit longer. Then I’ll be ready.” Then, before he thought better of it, he added “Jake, have I told you that I love you?”

Talltail felt himself blushing under his pelt as the words tumbled out unceremoniously. Should they have been more dramatic? More thought out? More...something?

But Jake’s eyes smiled at him, and apparently, they were enough.

“No, but I appreciate it. And I love you as well.”

“I suppose you must if you’ve put up with this much.” Talltail purred.

Tomorrow could be anything. The path ahead was dense with fog. The clouds were drifting back, swallowing up the claw-scratch moon.

There were a number of things that could go wrong, but tonight at least, they were here. Looking at the stars, listening to the other's gentle purr, and feeling the crisp clean scent of the breeze from the moor; a moment Talltail was determined to immortalize in his mind. No matter what happened, he would always be grateful for tonight.

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#FRU45 #chapter 45

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kookoobeans · 4 years

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Surprise surprise // Lucien

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1,904

Summary: It's Lucien's birthday and you decided to surprise your handsome prince.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucien's birthday is coming up so you decided to plan a surprise for him. You told the head of the orphanage he always visits with you your plan to which she agrees right away. After all, Lucien is the kids' favorite person and celebration the professor's special day together is a great idea. You want it to be perfect that you practically spend your breaks planning. Even Anna, Kiki, Minor and Willow help you from the beginning to end since you're also busy with the company. The day is going fast and it's actually a trouble hiding this to Lucien because your man is a smartass that he catches up easily on you. Always asking you questions which almost had you spilling the beans. Luckily, he's still clueless or so you hope. Soon enough the day finally came. You woke up early only to see the spot beside you empty. The covers are cold letting you know that it has been empty for a while now. You get up and walk to the living room to see Lucien reading. Slowly, you walk up behind him and wrap him in a tight back hug. He stops reading, put down his book and holds your hands.

“Hey, why are you up this early?” he asks you rubbing circles in your hand. You nuzzle your head in his neck.

“I should be the one asking you that.” He chuckles at your response. He faces you and kiss your forehead.

“I’m always up this early but it’s quite strange for you to be awake at this hour.” He said smiling as gentle as his hold on you.

“Well since its both our day off today. I was planning to ask you to go out with me so begone to the bathroom and change.” Its not actually your day off today, you just took a leave after finishing everything in advance. Victor was surprised that you report to him quite early and not days late this time.

“Is that your way of asking me on a date? I believe I should be the one doing that.” He said but still get up and drag you along.

“If you thinks it’s a date, then date it is. Besides, I can ask you on a date if I want to you know. Go ahead. Off you go!” you push a laughing Lucien in the bathroom. When you're sure that he can't hear you anymore, you dialed Kiki's number to check up on things. Hearing the bathroom door opens, you hang up without saying goodbye.

“You done? Wait for me in the living room. I'll be quick.” You didn't give him time to respond as you rush to the bathroom to groom yourself. When you come out, he was sipping tea. He rise up when he saw you.

“Shall we?” offering you his hand, you went out and make your way to the orphanage. He did ask you about your destination but you insist it's a secret. As you arrive at the orphanage, you can see Lucien being confused but didn't say a word. No one was around when you arrive which makes the place so quiet. You enter the garden and sit on a nearby bench.

“I’ll just go look for someone. I'll be quick.” You stand up ready to leave.

“I’ll go with you.” He also stands up but you push him back.

“No stay here, I won't take long.” He gave up and let you be. You make your way to the hall to change clothes and join everyone who's hiding since you arrive. You signal a kid to go to Lucien as planned. Your man sat quietly waiting for you return, just as he thinks you're taking too long a kid come up to him.

“Professor! This is for you!” the little boy hands him a small piece of paper.

“Hello. Thank you young man.” He takes the note as the boy runs away. He reads it smiling as soon as he sees the message.

‘Happiest birthday to the smartest scientist and kindest professor in the whole world. May you have a day as lovely as a butterfly and a life as beautiful as a rainbow.’ He flip the paper to see an instruction. ‘Go to the event hall, My prince.’ He chuckles at the nickname. As soon as he step into the hallway, he is greeted by little princes and princesses all lined up holding flowers.

“Hello Prince Lucien.” The kids say in unison, bowing in the process.

“Greetings your majesties. You all look lovely in those clothes.” Lucien play along and bow down. His smile never leaving his face. Two princess came up to him holding a crown and clothes for a prince.

“This is for you. Your princess is waiting for you right down the hall.” They say excitedly handing him the clothes and the crown. He gently takes them and put it on.

“Then I suppose I should get going. I can't let the princess wait for too long.” The kids giggle and make way for him. When he reach the event hall, the music starts playing as soon as he enters. There he saw, his beautiful princess in her dress waiting for him. The place is decorated enchantedly. You turn around and smile sweetly at him. He walks up to you reflecting the smile you have. The moment he's right in front of you, you give him the flower you're holding.

“Happy birthday! Would you give me the honor of dancing with you, My prince?” you ask stretching your hand towards him. He gladly takes your hand and kiss it.

“It would be my greatest pleasure to dance with such beautiful princess.” The both of you dance through the music. Both lost in each other as you barely notice everyone enter the hall and watch you two dance. As the song finishes, the lights turn dim. You tiptoed and cover his eyes. Anna enters holding a cake. When everything is settled, you slowly remove your hands as everyone sings happy birthday. He makes a wish and blow the candles. He looks at you, happiness can be seen in his eyes. He hugs you tight.

“Thank you. You know you don't have to go around tiring yourself out making this. Having you with me is more than enough.” You hug him back, looking up at him.

“I know but I want to. Besides, this is the first time we celebrate your birthday like this after you revealed your real birthday. Everyone was so excited.” He didn't respond. He just smiles at you and kiss you sweetly. Out of all the birthdays he celebrated, this is the first time he celebrates it with other people. it's usually just the two od you. His birthday is a secret only the two of you knows but after some time, he seems to warm up and feel comfortable to particular people that's why he decided to reveal his birthday to them earlier this year. All of those people are here today. Thanks to them, this surprise is possible. Although its not the time for you to be relieve yet. You still got one more surprise for him which you plan to give at home when you're alone. You are nervous as you don't know hot to tell him that you went to the doctor yesterday and got some good news. Putting your worries aside, you get another plate full of food. When you reach your table, you immediately munch on them. Lucien noticed that you are eating fast.

“Slow down, you can take your time eating.” He said gently holding your hand. You chew on the food and he wipe off your mouth with a napkin.

“Yeah boss slow down. That's your second plate already.” Minor said amazed at how much you've eaten.

“You’ll get fat if you continue eating a lot.” Kiki teases you as you have always been conscious about your weight. You glare at her as your mouth is full and Lucien could only laugh.

‘Oh I remember, I was also like that when I was pregnant with my first child.” The head of the orphanage said, looking like she is reminiscing the old times. The moment she said the word pregnant, you started choking on your food and had both Kiki and Minor spitting their drinks.

“W-what?” Anna asks, her eyes wide.

“It’s true. I eat more than what I used to when I was pregnant. Wait, are you pregnant?” the woman asks you curiously. You are still coughing as Lucien gently pats your back and offer you a glass of water. You gulp it down and heave a sigh of relief.

“Are you okay?” Lucien asks you worried and rubs your back in a soothing way. You nod your head in response. The moment you look up, you see everyone looking at you.

“Uhhhh….” You fidget with your fingers.

“Now that you mention it. She does eat more than usual. And on top of that, she eats certain types of food.” Anna interrupts. The rest in the table are listening carefully.

“Yeah she also said she's not feeling well these past few days.” Minor said, adding fuel to the fire.

“She even crave for strawberries yesterday.” Willow who has been silent the whole time spoke.

“And lastly, you gained weight!” Kiki said dramatically earning a nod from your other colleagues.

“So is it true?” the head asks. You're now more nervous than ever. Everyone is looking at you waiting for answer. Hearing your colleagues speak, Lucien also remembers a time when you cry over a cartoon which has a happy ending. It's a happy ending and a cartoon so you crying startle him. You look at the man beside you. He answers you with a smile. Your heart calms down a little. Gathering up the courage, you nod your head not breaking eye contact with him.

“I went to the doctor yesterday and I found out I'm pregnant.” Lucien’s smile grow wide as you hear cheering and congratulations in the background. He hugs you tight.

“Sorry I didn't tell you yesterday. It was suppose to be a small surprise for later when we get home but I guess the cat's out of the bag.” You said scooting closer to him. He holds you tighter, caressing your hari.

“Its okay. I still got surprised anyway.” He pulls away from the hug and placed a hand on your still flat stomach. He gently rubs it, eyes shining the brightest that you've ever seen. Slowly, he leans down and plant a soft peck in it. Your heart melts at the sight of him. When he rises his head, he rests his forehead on yours.

“Thank you for giving me the best gift.” You are left speechless. The two of you stayed like that without a care in the world. The celebration in your surroundings has been long forgotten. It's like there's just the two of you in that moment. The nervousness you felt earlier is now replaced by certainty. The rest of the day was spend partying. Through the whole day up until evening, Lucien never leave your side. He holds you close and extra careful as if he's holding the most fragile thing in the world. If it's him, then you're sure. Having a little angel that you both created would be a wonderful experience.

#love and producer #mlqc #mlqc fanfic #mr love queen's choice #mlqc lucien #mlqc xu mo

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kathasofwander · 4 years

Text

The YJHD Miraculous

Ok hi! I am from India, where Bollywood is one of the major movie industries.

Anyway. Back in 2013, There was this movie, called Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani. It’s there on Netflix, so if you wanna watch it, go ahead. You might get a inkling of the movie when you read the whole thing, so anyway.

When I last saw the movie, A few dialogues really reminded me of Adrien and Marinette’s situation and I thought up the whole thing. So here goes.

(This is going to be an incredibly long post. Please bear with me.)

Ladybug and Cat Noir are some 17-18 when they defeat Hawkmoth. Chat/Adrien, is very obviously shocked and saddened when the villian is finally unmasked. This is pre identity reveal, and they reveal their identities after the fight. They part ways after talking about everything they could, (except their feelings) and she lets him keep Plagg. Marinette is happy that her best friend is also the guy she loves, so she decides to tell him her true feelings. She waits a week, because Gabriel Agreste is awaiting trial and Emilie has gone into a deep coma. Three weeks later, when everything has cooled down, she makes her way to the Agreste mansion, only to see Adrien leave with a bag. “Adrien?” she calls out. “Oh hey Mari!” he replies. “Are you going somewhere?” “Yeah. I realised that Father didn’t let me see a lot of the world with his obsession to keep me ‘safe’ and the whole miraculous thing. So I am going on a tour. I want to see the world he wanted to shield me from. I am an adult now, so I can do as I want” He explains. Mari’s heart breaks, but she keeps a brave face, and wishes him luck. She had been hoping that his feelings for Ladybug wouldn’t change after getting to know who she was, but well.

8 years pass. Alya and Nino are getting married. It’s happening in Martinique, where the Cesaire family is from. Marinette, is obviously the Maid of Honor and Nino has been in touch with Adrien all these years, so Mr.Sunshine is his best man. They all agree to meet at the venue a week before wedding to catch up. And since Mari is designing the wedding gown, she arrives with Alya. She is meeting Adrien for the first time since he left 8 years ago, so she’s nervous. Alya and Tikki help her calm down. “Its ok girl! Adrien is going to be happy to see you!” She says. “Alya’s right, Marinette! He’s not just Adrien, he’s also your superhero partner.” Tikki tells her. She agrees with them and cools down. When the four finally meet, Adrien is surprised to see how different Mari is; more confident, bold and...beautiful.

Alya decides to show the other three around Martinique. Adrien thanks her because it was the only place in Europe he hadn’t been to. Alya decides to be the ultimate wingwoman and makes him and Mari sit together in the car. They even walk together during the sightseeing and spend the whole time together. They enjoy the tour and on the ride back, Adrien drives the car with Mari sitting in the passenger seat. The to-be bride and groom have passed out in the backseat. “You have been awfully quiet during the whole drive back to the hotel.” she says. “Huh? Oh yeah. I have been...thinking.” he says. Plagg and Tikki come out of their wielder’s bag/coat and hover in front of them. “He’s been doing that a lot.” Plagg quips. “Thinking?” Tikki asks. Plagg nods. “What are you thinking about?” Mari asks. “Home. How different things would have been if Father wasn’t Hawkmoth, or if I was not Chat Noir.” he says. She looks at him softly. Her heart was breaking for him. Adrien was so young, and had been through so much; his mother’s disappearance, his father’s arrest, the possibility that Emilie would never wake up. “They took mom off the ventilator last year. Called me to ask for permission.” Adrien explains further. “She wasn’t getting any better, so there was really no point in keeping her in the hospital. Nathalie was the only one from the family at the funeral, apparently.” He finished. He stops the car on the side of the road, gentle enough to not wake their sleeping friends. “Adrien, I am so sorry!” Mari says, and hugs him tightly. He holds her in that position, and they stay like that for five minutes.

Mari pulls away, and suddenly resigns to her seat. He wants to ask her what the matter was, but Alya wakes up. “Have we reached?” she asks. “Nope, but we are almost there.” he says and continues driving. Mari jumps out of the car as soon as the vehicle comes to a stop in front of the hotel, and runs up. All the wedding guests are already there, so the other three greet them and time flies as they are all meeting everyone. Chloe is surprisingly there with her girlfriend; someone she met while in New York. Adrien talks to them, and when the gf (I cant think of a name please help) goes to get a drink, Adrien asks her. “How did you find her? She’s incredible, and seems to tolerate you.” Chloe hits him lightly. “Sometimes, when you spend enough time with the right person, you just know. We were classmates in New York, and even worked on a project.” She explains. Adrien has an epiphany of sorts. All the time he spent with Marinette, whether it was 8 years ago as superheroes in Paris, or as themselves during the tour, it had all felt right. Just like it was meant to be. He excuses himself from Chloe and runs towards Mari’s room. He knocks on the door. “It’s open!” she calls. “Adrien!” she says when she sees him. “Hey! You aren’t going to meet everyone?” he asks. “Oh no, I have to work on...Alya’s wedding gown.” she lies. “Alya told me you were done with it long ago.” he counters. “Are you all right? You seem pretty out of it since we got back.” “Oh yeah. I am fine.” Tikki flies up from her seat on the table. “She’s not fine at all, Adrien. She’s been upset for the past five hours.” she says. “Tikkiiiii!” Mari scolds. “What? It’s the truth.”

“Upset? About what?” Plagg flies out and settles beside the ladybug kwami. “Nothing, Absolutely nothing. I am fine.” Mari denies, while facing the window. “You are lying, Mari. You have always done this; hiding your true feelings from everyone.” Adrien points out. “Oh what do you care about feelings? You gave up on your love for ladybug as soon as you found out it was me.” she bursts. Then she calms down, “I am sorry Adrien. I shouldn’t have said that. I better go down to meet everyone.” she turns to go. “What do you mean?” he stops her. “What’s the matter Mari? You have been avoiding me since we got back.” he asks. “I haven’t.” she lies again. “Yes.” “No” “Yes.” “FINE, yes. I have been avoiding you. Because I cant stay with you any longer.” she says. “What?” “Adrien. why dont you get it? If I stay here with you any longer then...I will fall in love with you, again. But you won’t, again.” she rants. As she is about to open her mouth to say more, he silences her with a soft kiss. She melts into it, and a few minutes later. he pulls away and rests his head against hers. “I never stopped loving you, My Lady.” he says. “The eight years that I spent away from Paris, from you, I have missed you so much.” he says. “Remember when I said, that I have been thinking about home? I want to come back. Enough of seeing the world. I want to be with the girl I have loved for so long.” he says. He kisses her again, and this time, it lasts much longer.

An hour later, they go down to meet everyone and for dinner. No one says anything much when they see Adrien and Marinette holding hands. Alya smiles and nods at her best friend. Nino gives Adrien a fist bump through the air. No one sees Alix handing Kim a 20 euro note, grumbling slowly.

Ok so, the actual movie ended very differently. VERY DIFFERENTLY. I had to change some parts of it to fit into the Miraculous storyline. But here it is.

I finally wrote it! It was in the back of my head for so long and its finally here!! Oh god! Wow! Enjoy! Please tell me how it was. (Except the fact that it was an excruciatingly long read. I know that, please and thank you)

#miraculous ladybug #yeh jawaani hai deewani #a bollywood miraculous

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tsc-living · 5 years

Text

Terrible Cooking is a Lightwood Trait (Gideon x Sophie)

Gideon sat on the front steps to the Lightwood manor house in Idris, the one that Charlotte Fairchild had returned to Gabriel and himself when she became Consul, and waited for his wife to come home. He had his elbows on his knees and chin in his hands, eyes half lidded in thought. Sophie had gone into Alicante to visit her old mistress and was due back any minute now. He remembered the look on her face when he had first taught her to ride horses, and ride like a man with none of that side saddle nonsense. She had looked thrilled and terrified, and as she had gotten the hang of it, her smile had swelled his heart. Gideon hadn’t been waiting for Sophie on the steps all day, but he had felt her absence like a piece of him was missing as he had cleaned the stables, groomed their second horse, went for a long run, and read a book. He had even prepared them dinner so that she could come home and rest after being out on her adventure. She was always on his mind when she was not around, and he would never be ashamed to say he missed her.

He heard the horseshoes on the cobblestones that led up their property and leapt to his feet with a smile already growing on his face before Sophie and the massive chestnut horse came into view. As they cleared the bend in the road and came into view, he descended the stairs and made his way towards them.

“Hola mi amore,” he greeted her in Spanish, “How was your day?” He added, taking the horse’s bridle to steady him as she took the drop to the ground with no fear. He had only once tried to help her down, and she had berated him for it. She was capable herself thank you. That didn’t stop her from stepping straight into his arms the moment her feet hit solid ground and she peered up at him. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, when she was looking at the world with steel or when she was looking up at him with unabashed adoration.

“It was quite a lovely day, and Charlotte sends her regards.” She said and then rested her head on his chest for a moment and he tightened his grip on her.

“I’m glad for it,” He said, “Are you okay mi amore?” He asked and she looked up at him again and smiled.

“Of course I am, just happy to be home with you.” She reassured him and he noticed, not for the first time, that her accent was softening the less time she spent in England and the more she spent in Idris. He kissed her then, the long, lingering kiss that made his stomach feel as if it were unfurling inside him. They only pulled apart when the horse nodded his head and jerked Gideon’s arm. She giggled and took the reins in her hand to lead him to the stables and Gideon walked beside her. She talked softly, telling Gideon about the events of her day and sharing with him the gossip from Alicante. She made sure to remind him that gossip was not worth spreading and she only believed half of it anyway. He knew though, how much she appreciated being trusted with gossip. That she got invited to parties and afternoon teas, that gentlemen opened doors for her and strangers tipped their hat to her in public.

Gideon had once told her he had noticed how much she liked it, and she had insisted she was happy in her life beforehand. He knew she had been content, but instead of saying anything of the sought he had schooled his features into the most pitiful he could muster and asked, “Your life before me?” She had just smiled and kissed him on the nose, “I love you Mr Lightwood.”

“Did you want me to help you with the horse?” He asked her now and she shook her head.

“No thank you Gideon, I can do it and then I shall clean up before preparing dinner.” She said, unbuckling the saddle and hauling it off herself. He smiled, leaning on the door of the barn. The saddle was near enough bigger than she was, but she handled it with the ease of someone who had been riding her entire life.

“I made dinner,” He said and she paused what she was doing to look at him, bracing the saddle on her knee.

“You did?” She asked looking surprised, which Gideon found unfair because he had cooked for her before. On other days Sophie had been out he had made stew, or even a roast, although his favourite by far was the fish stew.

“I did.” He confirmed and she turned to put the saddle on the hook outside the stall, but not before Gideon saw the amusement on her face. “What’s so funny?” He asked, crossing his arms and she shook her head, her back still to him as she took the bridle off the horse. She didn’t look up at him as she hung it up near the saddle and he gently grabbed her wrist, turning her.

“What is so funny?” He asked again and her lips were trembling with the effort of trying not to laugh, but she couldn’t stop herself. She braced her small, capable hands on his chest and laughed. Usually it was Gideon’s favourite sound, but he felt that this was at his expense and he wasn’t sure why.

“Oh my darling,” she said and wiped her eyes, “You can’t cook!” She said and burst out laughing again. Gideon opened his mouth in surprise, but her laughter was making it too hard for him to be mad.

“I can cook! The roast, the soup…” he said indignantly, “The fish stew?” He asked and she immediately sobered her laughing, only just.

“Dear me Gideon the fish stew is the worst!” She cried and the look on her face, or regret and barely supressed laughter made his lips twitch in a smile.

“Is it that bad?” He asked and she nodded up at him, wrapping her hands behind his neck and curling her fingers in his hair.

“I’m afraid so my love.” She said and kissed him gently.

“Ay mio Dios,” He muttered against her lips, “Yo no lo sabia.” I did not know.

“May I please make dinner?” She asked and he sighed heavily, but he wasn’t as disappointed as he had been.

“You may.” He conceded and she smiled into the kiss. When she pulled back he opened the door to the barn and she followed him out of it, hand against her flat stomach.

“I hope that your bad cooking isn’t genetic.” She giggled and he stopped dead in his tracks, staring at her with wide eyes and hope blooming in his heart.

“Sophie?” He asked, voice shaking and she turned slowly to meet his gaze.

“Yes Gideon?” She replied.

“Are you pregnant?”

“Would it be a bad thing if I was?” She asked, looking nervous. He shook his head and wrapped his arms around her.

“It would be a dream come true.” He whispered and she hugged him tightly.

“We’re going to be parents.” She confirmed and his heart soared. He picked her up by the waist and swung her around. She was laughing, he was nearly in tears and then they were kissing. The two young Shadowhunters stood in the darkening twilight on the path to their house with a retched stew simmering on the stove and their whole lives ahead of them.

#gideon lightwood #sophie lightwood #sophie collins #sophie x gideon #tid #tmi #tsc #tda #fanfic #headcanon #one shot

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let-it-raines · 5 years

Text

Second in Command (Ch. 20)

Summary: Life as the "spare to the heir" isn't all that it's cracked up to be when you're the supposed screw-up of the family, but people don't know what really happens behind closed doors.

Rating: Mature

A/N: Full disclosure, I have never been huge on royalty. I’ve always thought it was interesting watching the glamorous lives they lead, but it’s not generally my cup of tea. That said, I somehow sat down and wrote all of these words about a fictitious royal family simply because I needed an interesting way to keep two characters from being together. Who knew it would spark my imagination and pique the interest of you guys the way it did?

So it started with a man getting caught in the rain and wandering into a pub, meeting a woman, and it’s ending with a woman wandering into a chapel, marrying a man.

You guys are the best, and I can never thank you enough. This story is crazy and all over the place, and I most definitely put off writing this chapter because I didn’t want it to end...so look out for the small, multi-part epilogue because I have no chill. Seriously, thank you.

Also, the cover is for those who asked for visuals.

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr Chapters: |1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 18 | 19 | 20

Tag List: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke@kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @profdanglaisstuff @ekr032-blog-blog @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @a-faekindagirl @mayquita @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @alys07

He cannot sleep, the anticipation of tomorrow morning keeping him up while Liam snores away in the next room. It’s not that he hasn’t tried to fall into a slumber, knowing that no matter how much adrenaline is running through him that tomorrow – or is it today now – will still be a long day. Because he has tried, lying down in bed and shutting his eyes as he endeavored to force himself into sleeping for hours on end. Giving up, miserable staying still as his entire body screams at him to move around, he gets out of bed, grabbing his phone and a sweater before going to walk back and forth out on his balcony.

It’s perfect for his pacing because no one will see him, and he can simply be alone. He doesn’t really want to be alone. He wants to be with Emma, but he can’t exactly do that right now. He can, however, text her. He doesn’t expect Emma to be awake. He wishes her to be asleep so she won’t be as bloody exhausted as he is tomorrow…today…but he’d really just like to talk to her right now.

Killian: You up?

He barely gets a chance to put his phone back into his pocket before he feels it vibrate against his thigh.

Emma: Why Your Highness, are you requesting a royal booty call the night before you’re to be wed? How scandalous.

He can just imagine her saying the words, teasingly batting her eyelashes as she twists her hair between her fingers and softly smiles at him. He chuckles to himself before sitting down on one of the lounge chairs and looking up at the night sky, inky black above the vast land that stretches out ahead of him, the only light coming from the stars above and lanterns at the corner of each balcony railing. He understands the tradition of being separated the night before the wedding, but he’s really hating it right now as he texts her back.

Killian: Not a booty call, but maybe just a call.

His phone rings within the next thirty seconds, and he answers immediately, propping his phone between his shoulder and his ear as he hears Emma’s voice.

“So you requested a call but not of the booty variety?”

A laugh passes through his lips while warmth settles within his chest. If he can’t be with her, this is good enough. “Why aren’t you asleep, love?”

“I think I could ask you the same question.”

“I can’t sleep,” he admits, a slight breeze gusting over him, and he idly hopes that the weather forecast for later stays pleasant and there’s no repeat of the rain from earlier.

“Me either.”

“Are you nervous, Emma?”

“Not nervous to be marrying you. Like, that part I’m okay with. You might even say I’m excited about it.”

“But?”

“I’m nervous because of all of the people watching. I just keep reminding myself that it’s just you and me, just us.”

“Just us.”

It’s silent for a moment, restlessness fading away as he stretches out on the lounger, before she speaks again. “Is Liam snoring?”

“Bloody hell, yes,” he snorts, curling his legs into himself, “but he’s in the other room. How are your roommates?”

“Fast asleep. I’m currently sitting in the bathroom talking to you.”

“Well, the acoustics are better there. I’m sitting out on the balcony.”

“Damn,” she laughs, the sound making him feel like maybe they’re not actually in two different places. “That would have been a much better plan on my part. There’s a couch in here, though.”

“A couch in the bathroom?”

“It’s a very fancy place your dad has me set up in. It’s almost like he likes me or something.”

“He’s not the only one.”

“Goofball.”

Eventually he settles back into the softness of the unfamiliar bed, the mattress dipping underneath the weight of his body, as he and Emma continue to talk until suddenly her voice goes silent on the other end of the phone, just soft breaths coming through the speaker until he disconnects the call and manages to fall asleep as well.

When he wakes a few hours later, his head stuffy from his lack of sleep, he still somehow feels calm and rested, like he could go days without sleep and be fine today, sod what his anxious self told him earlier this morning when he couldn’t sleep. He wouldn’t say no to some coffee, though, and when there’s a knock at the door of his suite and a tray of food with a pot of steaming hot coffee waiting for him, he thinks that it may very well be some kind of wedding day miracle, especially because Liam’s still asleep and Killian can keep this all to himself.

It’s a beautiful day outside already, the summer sun shining across the well-groomed grass and making the pool several floors below shine in his eyes while he goes about eating his omelet and fruit and drinking the sweet, sweet nectar that is coffee this morning. When he places his mug back down, he sees an envelope underneath his plate, a small bit of Emma’s elegant script poking out underneath it, and she seems to have had the same idea that he did this morning in sending breakfast and what seems to be a letter.

He smiles before opening up the envelope and pulling out a piece of stationary marked with Emma’s hotel and the slightest coffee ring stain.

Killian,

I finally feel as if my life is a bit of a fairytale, and before you get your hopes up that it’s you making me feel that way, it’s more the fact that I’m sitting in a bathrobe while my toes are being painted writing you a letter on actual stationary with a pen that might as well be a quill. It’s just missing a feather. It makes me feel as if I’m in one of those historical romances I so often force you into watching, but I also know that I’ll probably text you this morning as well, sending you my own little modern day love letter in addition to this one.

Or maybe just a text about how hungry I am because I’m not sure I can eat this breakfast you sent me.

It’s not that it’s not good food. My stomach is just doing summersaults with how excited I am.

The coffee is good, though. Thanks, babe.

I was woken up at five this morning after, as you know, just a few hours of sleep because I was on a “not booty” call until the early hours of this morning, and I feel like my body hasn’t been left alone since. Anyways, enough complaining about how the birds and deer are dressing me because I really did mean to write something actually romantic. You’re not the only one who can be a regular Mr. Darcy, babe.

Six years ago today, at about this time really, I was trying to fall back asleep after waking up and being just absolutely tormented with the fact that I’d kissed this guy who I really liked despite all of my attempts not to, and then my dad had walked in on us when things were really getting good. You’d gone away, to Scotland if I remember correctly, with your mom for a few days, and in that time I just completely lost it thinking about how the hell could I ever trust a man again with my heart, especially someone with your position in life. It was like torture, the war taking place between my heart and my head, and then you just showed up at the pub and all of my feelings spilled out because I was already so comfortable with you in our months of knowing each other…or bickering and teasing each other at two in the morning when we were both delusional and exhausted.

Telling you about my past that day, taking down a stone or two of my walls and reservations, was one of the best decisions I ever made. We met by chance, but we’re together by choice. Loving you and having you love me in return has been the greatest adventure full of laughter, hardships and heartbreaks, and most of all, happiness.

Killian Michael Philip Louis, my love, I love you with all of my being, and I’ll see you in just a few hours. I don’t think you’ll be able to miss me. I’m going to be in a very fancy white dress.

Love always,

Emma

He picks up his phone immediately, calling her with just the goofiest of grins on his face. He knows how much it means for Emma to be the one to write and say sentimental things. It’s not that she doesn’t do it, as she has grown in her confidence in her words the longer they’ve been together, but he still remembers the woman who only showed her true affection through physical acts instead of words.

“Hello,” she greets, but she’s yawning when she’s saying it so it really just sounds like one long lo. He can hear Ruby talking to Mary Margaret in the background as someone tells Emma not to move her eyelashes or the glue will be messed up.

“Hello, darling. You got any plans today?”

“Just a little thing, and then I’m free, ya weirdo.”

He hums before taking another sip of his coffee as the sun settles a little closer to the middle of the sky while the time passes on. Emma’s apparently been up for hours while he’s still in his pajamas and hasn’t seen a soul all day.

“Good. So I got a curious piece of mail this morning.”

“Did you now?”

“Yeah, it seems that I have an admirer who loves me very much.”

“Funny, I got the same type of letter this morning. Though, I’m sure the one you received was much more romantic and well-written. Something that should be preserved for historical literary significance.”

“I’m thinking about having it framed.”

The two of them talk for a few minutes longer until Emma’s makeup artists tells her she can’t be moving her lips, and he lets her go, heading inside to his own room to find Liam standing there already getting dressed in his uniform for the day, buttoning his jacket and adjusting the medals on his chest.

“Well, good morning. Nice to see you’ve finally come inside from your sunbathing.”

“Don’t be jealous that I ate all of the food, brother.”

“There was food?”

Killian laughs before heading into the bathroom and hopping into the shower, letting the water wash away the day before and wake him up so that he can dress in his uniform, something more uncommon to him than his suits as he only wears it for special occasions and really only on St. Patrick’s Day. It feels different draping the red coat over his body and even weirder when the blue sash is put across his chest while gold pendants and multi-colored medals are attached to his chest and his shoulders. Liam’s wearing the same uniform but in black, and his medals include the honors he earned while serving instead of the ones he was granted by his father for simply being born.

He has to leave his phone with his aide before they walk out of the hotel, so he texts Emma one more time to tell her that he loves her and he’ll see her soon before handing his phone off and being disconnected from Emma until she’s at the alter with him.

God, until she’s at the alter with him.

He’s got to be at the Church grounds a little after eleven, an entire hour before Emma even arrives, and he and Liam are dropped off on one of the paths so that the two of them can greet some of the crowds gathered outside of the gates of the palace. It doesn’t seem to be too much of a crowd as he and Liam chat and wave while managing to move along so that they’re on time, knowing that this entire day is on a tight schedule, but when they turn the corner, he can see the long stretch of road on which Emma will ride down with David absolutely packed with onlookers who erupt into cheers when he and Liam come into sight. To put it in a word, it’s insane. There’s nothing else for it, and even if he experienced something similar on the day of Liam’s wedding, nothing could have prepared him for this mania surrounding him.

“It’s a bit wild, don’t you think, little brother?”

“Younger,” he corrects automatically, clapping onto Liam’s shoulder as they continue to walk, gravel crunching underneath their feet. “You have to call me younger from now on.”

“Maybe when you’re married, Killian.”

He laughs at his brother’s cheekiness before stopping to see a few more people, eternally grateful that they all care about him enough to wait outside for what he’s sure is hours or days ahead of time to stand here at the front of the path. He even spots a few people from last night, their clothes the same and hair a bit disheveled, and he makes sure to give them a wave and smile.

“Good morning, everyone,” he shouts, waving to all of the people outside, trying to avoid staring into the television cameras that seem to be as numerous as the crowd. “I’d stay and chat, but I’ve got someone who needs me inside on time.”

The waiting is pure agony, seconds feeling like minutes and minutes feeling like hours. Liam tries to distract him, chatting with Killian about anything and everything, and as much as he appreciates it, it doesn’t help. He’s honestly not sure what Liam’s said, the words flowing in one ear and out the other. He hears the music change before he sees Mary Margaret walk into the Chapel, a brilliant smile on her face as she takes a seat, giving him the most subtle of nods before straightening out the imaginary wrinkles in her dress. The anticipation only increases then because he knows that Emma is on the palace grounds with Abigail and Ruby and all of the children, and he feels like he may burst if time doesn’t pass more quickly. He probably looks like the most anxious man alive, all jittery and antsy, and he one hundred percent should have had a small glass of rum before showing up today.

When his parents walk in, he knows that they are the last to arrive before David and Emma, and this is the home stretch. He can do it.

A fanfare sounds to announce Emma’s arrival, and he cannot help the smile that blooms on his face as he waits for her to walk through the mahogany stained archway and onto the black and white tiled floor. When he sees the first hint of white, even if it’s not quite clear, his heart begins thumping in his chest, his entire body warming even as something pleasant becomes lodged in his throat. As she and David get closer, he beams, the happiness – and he’s sure that’s what the emotion lodged in his throat was now – radiating from him as she comes into view.

She’s gorgeous, her skin tanned against the white lace snugly covering her entire body, her blonde curls falling down her back as they’re pinned back by the tiara he knows is gracing her head. He can’t see her face quite yet, still too far away that he can’t see her through the sheer material of her veil. As she gets closer, he sees Alexander walking with all of the other children behind her, Ruby holding Emma’s veil and corralling the kids, and Killian knows that Alex is probably itching to be the one standing with Emma because he doesn’t quite understand what’s happening here. He’ll have to make sure to hold Alex later to make up for the confusion.

God, he loves her so damn much.

He can’t believe this is happening.

Finally, finally, finally, Emma is near the alter, her face completely visible to him, and she’s the most beautiful woman alive. Really and truly. Who cares how biased he is? He certainly doesn’t.

“Hi,” she mouths to him before she steps up onto the alter, squeezing David’s arm before he lets go and joins Mary Margaret in the pews.

Killian takes her slightly shaking hand, helping her step up where he is, and all of the anticipation has totally been worth it for this moment alone when he lifts the veil over her head and there are no barriers left between the two of them. “You look stunning, love.”

“You look – ”

“I know.”

She laughs the smallest bit before the Archbishop calls for their attention and the ceremony begins, the two of them being united as man and wife within the next fifty minutes as hymnals are played, sermons are preached, and vows are promised to each other.

“First,” the Archbishop begins, and Emma squeezes his hand just a little more tightly knowing what moment this is, “I am required to ask anyone present who knows a reason why these persons may not lawfully marry, to declare it now.”

The Chapel is blessedly silent, and while there was no real risk of anyone saying anything, with all he and Emma went through to get here, it’s a bit of a relief, Emma nervously chuckling when the Archbishop moves on.

“The vows you are about to take are to be made in the presence of God, who is judge of all and knows all the secrets of our hearts; therefore if either of you knows a reason why you may not lawfully marry, you must declare it now.”

When neither say anything, Killian knows that it’s his turn to make his vows, the schedule of the day drilled into his head even with the mess of emotions coursing through his body.

“Killian, will you take Emma to be your wife? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and protect her, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?”

“I will.”

Emma smiles at him before looking down, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheek, while she suppresses a laugh. He’s got no idea what she’s laughing at, but he has to bite his bottom lip to contain his own when she looks back at him with mirth dancing in her eyes.

“Emma, will you take Killian to be your husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and protect him, and, forsaking all others, be faithful as long as you both shall live?”

“I will.”

The entire congregation is invited to support and uphold their marriage before everyone prays and his mother’s cousin Lillith reads several verses in the Nave as the choir sings. Emma’s bouncing a bit even under the weight of her dress, and while he can’t hold her hand quite yet, they’re almost there.

“You okay?” he whispers when the song begins to wind down.

She simply smiles, and it’s the smile she reserves for him, soft and sweet and happy.

Finally, after her bouquet is placed on a side table, he’s able to take her hands, grasping them as they stand in the middle of the alter again and officially make their vows to each other.

“I, Killian, take you, Emma, to be my wife, to have to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part according to God’s holy law. In the presence of God I make this vow.”

Emma squeezes his hand before she begins, her thumb brushing over his knuckles, and it’s then that he realizes that she has on her sapphire ring on her right hand. He knows for a fact that she wasn’t supposed to wear any jewelry on her hands, even her engagement ring, and he smiles thinking about her likely slipping it on at the last minute.

“I, Emma, take you, Killian, to be my husband, to have to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part according to God’s holy law. In the presence of God I make this vow.”

The Archbishop prays over their exchange of rings before Killian slide’s Emma’s wedding band over her ring finger, his gaze only leaving hers to make sure that he doesn’t drop the ring or slide it onto her middle finger.

“Emma, I give you this ring as a sign of our marriage. With my body I honor you, all that I am I give to you, and all that I have I share with you, within the love of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.”

Emma beams at him, her smile practically reaching up to her eyes as she slides his wedding band onto his ring finger, holding it there as she repeats his words.

“Killian, I give you this ring as a sign of our marriage. With my body I honor you, all that I am I give to you, and all that I have I share with you, within the love of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.”

The Archbishop takes their hands, joining them together, and he runs his finger over the gold while their marriage is blessed to the crowd, and right now he really and truly hates that he cannot kiss her quite yet like every other man and wife would be able to do at this moment. Instead they’re hurried into a small room where they sign the registrar and officially become man and wife in the eyes of the law and of his father, their titles being changed into The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. Emma’s hands shake a bit as she signs first with her given name and then when she signs with her new name and all of the history and responsibility behind it.

When it’s official, the two of them finally get to exit the room, everyone maneuvering around Emma’s dress and veil as they all exit the doors and walk back down the aisle, waving at everyone and smiling with Emma’s hand wrapped around his bicep while her other hand holds her bouquet as they exit the Chapel as husband and wife.

Finally.

“This is insane,” Emma gasps when they walk through the double doors and back out into the sunlight to the sounds of church bells and cheers of all of the people from his patronages that they invited to stand outside of the Chapel, and he laughs that Emma had the exact same thought they he had when he was walking inside with Liam. That seems like a lifetime ago, and maybe it was.

“I know, but a good kind of insane, yeah?”

“The best.”

When they reach the stairs, standing under the archways of green foliage mixed in with blooming white magnolias and a few of the flowers people gave he and Emma yesterday, Emma turns to him, leaning in close, before whispering, “Can I kiss you now?”

“Absolutely.”

They lean into each other before their lips finally press together for a fleeting moment, Emma as soft and as warm as she always is in this gentle caress. He knows there’s the sound of cheers and trumpets all around them, and while he can hear them, he doesn’t care. All he cares about is the fact that he’s currently getting to kiss his wife.

When they pull back from each other, instead of pulling away, Emma rests her forehead against his and speaks against his lips, “I love you.”

“I love you, my darling.”

They’re loaded into a red and gold laden horse-drawn carriage, with white horses leading them, and even as they’re driven into the crowds, more people surrounding them than ever before the further away from the Chapel they get, it’s the first time he and Emma have truly been alone together, relatively speaking, since their goodbyes yesterday evening.

“So, this whole being married thing,” he teases, interlacing his fingers with hers and bringing her hand up to press a kiss against her knuckles before resting it in his lap, “is it treating you well?”

Emma snorts, actually, legitimately snorts as her free hand waves to the crowd. “I mean, I think it’s going well, but who knows what’ll happen when we’re alone together without all of these people? I might totally change my mind. Though, I do love a man in uniform, so that may be working in your favor today.”

“You’re already the best wife, darling. I mean, I don’t have a lot to judge on, but you’re doing great.”

Emma turns from looking out at the crowd to looking at him, giving him the smile she reserves just for him again and returning his kiss to her knuckles by leaning down and kissing his shoulder. “You’re a pretty good husband, too.” She shrugs before winking. “Not a lot to judge on, but you’re doing great so far.”

Their ride is at least twenty minutes, and he just takes it all in. His life is not normal. He’s well aware of that, and if he wasn’t, the fact that he’s in a horse drawn carriage leaving his wedding and waving to the masses would be a pretty good clue otherwise. But it is normal in the way that he and Emma always have been. They love each other, and that’s all there is to it. About halfway through the ride, Emma leans over and starts questioning all of the different ways there are to wave, demonstrating them and laughing as he joins in. They look ridiculous, but his chest is heaving with laughter and a tear escapes Emma’s eyes for the very same reason.

Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, or maybe it’s the jubilation at being here in this moment.

After their loop is finished, the two of them are ushered back into the Palace in order to take official portraits while their guests wait for them at their first reception. Emma has to have her makeup retouched while he goes to greet their families in the sitting room where they’re taking pictures. He sees Abigail first as she’s squatting down talking to all of the children, but she doesn’t see him. Alex does, though, squealing at a volume that could break glass over him being in the room.

“Hi, buddy,” Killian grins, picking him up and pressing a kiss to his cheek, “are you having fun?”

Alex shakes his head from side to side, and Killian has to laugh at the very honest answer of a toddler. He imagines it’s probably not fun for them to be stuck in small suits and dresses with no toys or entertainment for such long periods of time. Hell, there were times during the ceremony when he was bored out of his mind, and he’s nearly thirty years old, not three.

“Well, that’s okay. You’re almost ready to go home.” He places Alex back on the ground to join everyone else before pulling Abigail into a hug and kissing her cheek. “Hello, love.”

“Hello, Mr. Married Man. Where’s your bride?”

“Getting her hair and makeup touched up before the portraits because it was a little hotter outside than she was expecting. That, or she was just too nervous and started sweating.”

“She was as calm as a cucumber, Killian. Not even I was that calm. God, I was a mess before I got married.”

“You were beautiful, Abi dear. Thanks for being with Emma today.”

She squeezes his bicep and gives him a reassuring smile that settles somewhere in the pit of his stomach, his gratitude for this woman never ending. “I love you both. I can’t imagine having anyone else as my family.”

“I love you, too.”

He greets the rest of his family as the camera crew sets up, and just as things begin to calm down, Emma comes into the room, her train and veil still taking multiple people to transport while moving around. He has no idea how she moves in that thing, especially with how it clings to her body with every step, but she does.

“Oh my baby,” Mary Margaret cries, rushing over to Emma at the same time that Alex cries out an Emmy. “I can’t believe you’re married.”

Emma chuckles before grabbing onto her mum’s wrist and squeezing. “I know, Mom. But you were with me when we got here. You knew it was happening.”

“But you weren’t married then. It was so surreal watching the two of you up there.”

Emma goes around greeting everyone else, or really, they greet her while she stands in place for pictures. They’ve got to get everyone out of here before they take pictures on their own, and wrangling children is no small feat. But pictures are done despite that and his father’s joking around with David.

When everyone is shuffled out to the reception, he and Emma take their official portraits, standing together in stiff poses, before being moved out to the gardens to take more casual ones. It reminds him of their engagement pictures, the only differences lying in the fact that it’s bloody hot instead of freezing and that Emma’s dress is a little more complicated. She’s taken her veil off, their aides transporting it for safe keeping, but the tiara still remains in her hair, the sun glistening off the pearls and diamonds.

“How do you move in this thing?” he jokes while helping her sit down on a set of stone steps.

“Very carefully and without breathing. I’ve got a corset on under here, and that thing is going to be ripped open and never used again.”

“Well, I was planning on doing that, but it’s nice to know you agree.”

Emma scrunches up her face, her nose wrinkling and her brows furrowing together before she pats him on the leg and lets out a breath. “Get all of your inappropriate jokes out now so you don’t say them later.”

“Well, the same could be said to you. I say we sprinkle them in to prepare everyone for Ruby’s speech.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s no preparing for that.”

When they’re finished with pictures – at least for now as the photographer says – he helps Emma to the dining hall, stopping just outside and pressing her against the wall before running his lips against her jaw, never staying anywhere for too long before his lips finally land against hers, soft and sweet and everything he’s wanted to do since they were announced as husband and wife.

Damn is that still weird to think.

Damn is that nice to think.

“I love you, Emma. You are gorgeous and wonderful and amazing.”

“So are you,” she whispers before running her hands against his hair, pushing the pieces that fell against his forehead back and keeping her fingers against his hairline. “You ready to go have some more people stare at us?”

“And to eat some damn good food.”

“That too.”

The sounds of glasses clinking distract Killian from his meal and his conversation with Emma to see David standing from his spot at the other end of the table with a glass of champagne in his hand and a smile on his face.

“Good afternoon,” David begins into the microphone that’s been set before him, his voice shaking the slightest bit. Killian places his fork on the table before reaching over and twining his fingers together with Emma, running his thumb back and forth over her wedding band and recently added engagement ring. “First, I’d like to thank His Majesty for hosting this wonderful reception, even if we all know he’s not the one who picked out the food and flowers. And then I’d like to thank all of you for coming to the wedding of our daughter Emma to Killian. I’ve been told that I can drop the formalities with him, which is good, because I didn’t get to know Killian as His Royal Highness, I got to know him as Killian, frequent pub patron and rum drinker who happened to have a crush on my daughter. Now, I don’t know how many of you knew Killian at twenty-three, but he wasn’t nearly as smooth as he is now. And he most definitely couldn’t hide the fact that he was smitten with my daughter.”

Killian turns to look at Emma, and she’s watching her father with cautious eyes, like she’s not sure of what he’s going to do next, and a timid smile tugging at her lips. Honestly, Killian’s not either, but he trusts Dave not to say anything too embarrassing…at least not at this reception.

“Emma was the slightest bit better at hiding her feelings, but six years ago today, my daughter started dating her husband, who is, I think, more importantly my son-in-law and one of the absolute best men on the planet. And while I could go on and on about the adventures and misadventures of Emma and Killian throughout the years, I’m not. I’d simply like to wish them a blessed marriage, through the good, through the bad, and through it all.”

David raises his glass as everyone else does the same, all of them echoing “to Emma and Killian” before settling down to a hushed tone of chatter across the hall as he and Emma continue to eat. His father also makes a speech, but it’s more to thank all of the diplomats in the room before the luncheon goes on a little too long and everyone gets too antsy sitting around without anything going on.

“So,” Ruby drawls, coming to squat down between he and Emma, “how much longer is this thing going on before we get to the real party with, you know, all of the alcohol and the celebrities and the music? Because I know you guys tried to keep the fact that David Beckham and George Clooney are here from me, but don’t think that I didn’t see them. I’d like to meet them and dance with them both at one time.”

“Not that much longer,” Killian answers while Emma tells Ruby, “both of those men are happily married, Rubes.”

“Well, so is Killian, but I’m still going to be dancing with him tonight.”

“I’m looking forward to it, lass.”

After the luncheon, the two of them are allowed an hour alone together before having to get ready for the reception his brother is hosting for them at Frogmore house, and as soon as Emma’s dress has been removed and Ruby and her mother leave, he’s on her, cupping her face and running the tips of his fingers against the hair at the edges of her face before pressing his lips against hers and really getting to kiss her, devour her while her arms cling to his back. It feels like liquid pleasure running through him when she kisses him back, moving her lips with his, but they can’t go any further than that even with the hour alone so he’s forced to pull back.

“As much as I’d like to continue this particular activity, especially with what I know you have on underneath this robe,” he fingers at the silk material of her collar, revealing the white lace underneath that she put on after taking the corset off, “we can’t get sweaty. Plus, not to make you doubt my abilities, I’d really rather spend the next hour drinking coffee with you.”

“Babe, I think that’s the best idea you’ve ever had.”

It’s their first hour alone as a married couple, and the two of them are sitting in his room at Windsor in nothing but robes drinking copious amounts of coffee and filling each other in on how they spent their mornings when not with each other. He would say that it’s an odd choice, but it’s really not for them. He’s incredibly attracted to his wife…God, his wife…and he’d like nothing more than to plow into her and say sod to the next reception full of all of their friends and liked family. But what they’re doing right now feels right. It’s their wedding day, something they’ll never get again, and this will be the last time today that it’ll simply be the two of them and no one else until they’re back in his hotel room from earlier.

Plus, he really, desperately needed the caffeine after all of the adrenaline began to fade away.

“So we’re married, huh?”

He nudges his feet against Emma’s on the ottoman in front of the couch they’re sitting on, acknowledging her statement while he inhales the fresh aroma of his caffeine, the hot liquid running down his throat and causing him to think that this is equivalent to gold.

“We are,” he agrees. “Do you feel different?”

She laughs before putting her coffee down and resting her head on his shoulder and running her hands up and down his arm.

“Not in the slightest.”

“Yeah, but I can call you my wife now, so that’s something new.”

“I still accidentally called you my boyfriend last week, so I think it may take awhile for me to get used to our new names. Also, how weird is it that my last name isn’t Nolan anymore?”

“You’ll always be Nolan to me, love.”

“How much time do we have left before I’m forced back into a tight dress and heels?”

He pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time, ignoring all of the texts filling up his home screen that he hasn’t checked since his aide gave the device back an hour ago. “Thirteen minutes.”

“Alright, babe. I’m going to make out with you one more time and get you all hot and bothered before you have to change into your tux.”

“You’re evil.”

“I love you,” she laughs before taking his drink out of his hand and straddling his thighs, “and your discomfort is a cross I’m willing to bear.”

He never thought he’d be so thrilled to put on tuxedo, but he is absolutely delighted compared to the uniform he had on earlier. It’s much less stuffy, and his shoulders don’t feel as heavy with all of the tassels and dressings of his earlier outfit. Emma’s still having her hair curled and makeup redone while he simply sits on the bed and waits for her. He’s got a pair of diamond earrings in his pocket that he should have given her when they were alone, but it somehow slipped his mind.

They’re his grandmother’s, and while Emma never got to meet her and he was never particularly close to her, he thinks that they’re very much Emma’s style. Simple and classic and entirely unassuming even with their shine.

A bit like Emma.

Damn is he sentimental and overly gushing today.

“You’re looking a little bored, Killian.”

“It’s riveting watching your hair curled, love. I’ve never been more entertained.”

“Do you guys see why I married him?” She asks her hairdresser, the girls giggling with her. “He’s totally kidding, but I’m going to choose to think that he actually finds this entertaining.”

When Emma’s finished getting ready, her hair pulled into a high ponytail with tendrils framing her face, she slips into her new dress, this one a strapless lace gown with a scalloped top and a cinched waist. It’s gorgeous, but then a white cape is added over her shoulders, making her look like some kind of bridal superhero.

“A cape, darling?”

She shrugs, raising her arms so that the cape moves with them. “I thought it was unique.”

“It is. You going to take it off for the dancing?”

“After I twirl around once or twice, you bet your ass I am.”

He gifts her the earrings before they leave, and the smile on her face warms his heart. She immediately takes out the earrings she had on before, replacing them with the small studs, and presses a kiss against his cheek before straightening his bow tie.

“You look so handsome. I’m glad we went with the blue tux.”

Before loading up in the car to drive to the reception, they stop and wave for the photographers, knowing that this is the last time they’ll have to do that today. After they’ve posed enough, Isabelle telling them to go on, he opens Emma’s door and helps her in before walking around to his side and driving them away, a tent full of the people they love waiting for them.

When they walk into the tent, his eyes trail upward to the lights strung across the tent’s ceiling, casting everything in a soft white glow while the sun sets outside in a mixture of pinks and oranges. When he looks down, he can see columns with greenery wrapped around them, tall vases of colorful flowers sitting at all of the round tables while people mill around talking and chatting, the band playing softly in the background.

He only gets a moment to look around before they’re noticed, cheers and wolf whistles mixed in with the sounds of hands clapping together as he takes Emma’s hand and raises it in the air between the two of them, the cheering only increasing as they fully step into the tent and walk through the people until they reach their families at the center. This is the one thing he and Emma didn’t completely plan themselves, and taking it all in, he feels every weight he’s ever had on his shoulders drop away.

They’re here. They’re together. They’re married.

It’s everything.

After Liam greets them, clapping Killian on the back and pressing a kiss against Emma’s cheek, Liam gets up on stage, asking for the microphone from the band leader before speaking.

“Good evening, everyone! I hope everyone hasn’t already imbibed too much that you’re all not interested in what I or anyone else has to say. Somehow Killian and Emma have so many people who like them that there’s a lot of people making speeches. Or maybe everyone just wants to embarrass them. After all, Killian is so handsome when he blushes.”

Emma snorts beside him, and he wraps his arm around her shoulder before pulling her closer and kissing her temple, resting his cheek there while they watch Liam.

“Now, Killian is quite a bit younger than me, and while we haven’t always gotten along, we do now. At least most of the time. He ate all of the bloody breakfast this morning, and he’s got on quite a bit of makeup covering the black eye that’s blooming on that handsome face of his because of that.”

“Bloody wanker,” Killian mumbles under his breath, and Emma laughs against his shoulder, pressing another kiss there like she’s been doing all day.

“Killian’s always been known to bat a little above his league. There were the sports he tried to play, the novels he’d read when he was seven and had no idea what was going on, lasses he’d ask out while in school. But there has never been a time he’s batted so much above his league than when it comes to Emma. She has been kicking his ass for six years, and she’s been kicking my ass for the past year. She’s a bloody brilliant spitfire, and not a one of us in this family deserves her. Well, maybe my children, but that’s it. So everyone go get something to drink, and let’s celebrate Killian and Emma.”

“That was really nice,” Emma whispers, but he can barely hear anything over the sound of the people around him and the sound of his heart beating in his chest. Liam may have glossed over some things there, but Killian knows that every word he said, he meant.

“Yeah, yeah it was.”

When Liam reaches them, he’s got a broad smile on his face, and Killian immediately envelopes him in a hug, burying his face in his shoulder and holding him there for a minute. “I love you, Liam.”

Liam rubs his back up and down before patting him and pulling back, and Killian sees his eyes when he says, “I love you too, younger brother.”

“Look at that. You said that right words.”

“Well, I did say I’d call you that when you were married.”

Liam lets him go, turning to find Emma behind him with two glasses of champagne in her hands while she talks to a few of his friends from University, Robin included, and he takes a glass out of her hand, taking a sip while they talk. For awhile, it’s person after person, each one wanting to talk to them and give them their congratulations. He knows all of them while Emma doesn’t, but you’d never know with the way that she’s comfortable speaking, not freaking out or shaking as she speaks to some of the well-known guests like Ruby’s personal favorites of George Clooney or David Beckham (he sees Ruby circling around trying to find a way to look talk to them, and he hopes that conversation is somehow recorded and mass released).

She’s amazing.

Always.

Emma’s hand never leaves his, and as they’re asked to walk to the dance floor for their first dance, her fingers only tighten around his while they begin to move back and forth, taking small steps and twirling in circles. He spins Emma around as How Long Will I Love You is sung in the background. He likes to think that their dancing has improved, that they know what they’re doing out here, but he doesn’t really care. And as the song goes on, Emma drops all pretenses of trying to dance, releasing his hands to wrap her arms around his neck and sway with him, their bodies pressed together while they chat with each other. It’s quiet and intimate, and no part of him is focused on the people watching him.

When they finish their dance, he leads Emma up to the stage, the blush rising on her cheeks visible under the white lights surrounding them. She hooks her arm around his while he moves to the microphone.

“Good evening. I promise this is going to be the last speech of the night. I know most of you have probably been bored to tears all day, but after you all let me wax poetic about my wife, feel free to drink and dance and play any of the games we have set out in the back. I know some of you may think games at a wedding are a little odd, but we’re mixing in tastes here. If you hate it, blame Emma.”

She squeezes his arm before leaning over and speaking into the microphone. “Hey, beer pong is a hell of a lot of fun when you’ve had a little bit too much to drink. Of course, that was supposed to just be a ping pong table, but Ruby’s already taken over.”

“Damn right,” Ruby yells from the crowd, everyone erupting into laughter.

“Anyways,” Killian calls coaxing everyone’s attention back to him, “we will get to all of the beer pong in a minute. So I know that everyone in here was a little shocked when they found out I’d been dating someone for so long, but I like to think it worked out. In Emma, I found a friend, a confidant, a lover, and as of today, a wife and lifelong partner. She’s an ordinary woman who is actually quite extraordinary. She’s beautiful, and she’s shown herself to be resilient in all of the hardships that life has put her through, both before me and because she’s with me. She’s also shown herself to be witty and passionate and kind. Mostly, she’s shown me that I can have someone love me and face the world with me, hand in hand.”

The room erupts with the sounds of clapping and a few yells of kiss her, but before he can dip his head and kiss her, she’s grabbing his cheeks and pulling him in for a searing kiss before pulling back and resting her forehead against his.

“I love you, too. I wish that I had said something other than defending beer pong.”

“Well, I’m sure if you tell everyone they’re free to go have a good time now, you’ll be a huge hit.”

“I was talking about saying nice things to you, but that sounds like a good idea.” She leans over into the microphone, “You guys ready to celebrate?”

The rest of the night is a blur of talking, drinking, and dancing. There’s a dinner served, but he and Emma never get to eat it, always be dragged somewhere else by someone who wants to talk, drink, or dance. It’s crazy, it’s fun, and the hours pass with the sun completely setting outside so that the lights inside the tent reflect off of the darkness outside. He and Emma play cornhole against David and Mary Margaret, her parents absolutely crushing them as they toss the bags, before moving along to play the aforementioned beer pong, Ruby leading the game only to be dragged away by George to dance. Emma laughs so hard at the face of shock Ruby makes that she leans over on the table to hold herself up with tears coming out of her eyes. The laughter is contagious, and he loses it along with everyone around them.

Eventually his parents leave along with Emma’s, and they’re left with the sounds of the band and the movement of all of their guests. Sweat pools at his temples as he and Emma dance with everyone, Ruby twirling him around like she promised she would. When Ruby moves on, Emma comes to wrap her arms around his neck as she moves against him, his hands splayed against her hips while they talk to everyone around them, but always coming back to each other.

When they walk out of the tent, it’s to fireworks going off in the sky, his brother’s penchant for the dramatics really showing, and when Emma whispers to him that the fireworks were most definitely Liam’s idea, he barks out a laugh before kissing her and leading them to the car that’s going to drive them back to their suite.

It’s long past midnight when they walk back into the suite, and instead of being rushed to strip each other out of their clothes, it’s slow getting there. He guides Emma into the room, holding her hand while she takes her heels off, her dress dragging along the floor as she shrinks next to him. She excuses herself to the bathroom while he sits down at the edge of the bed, kicking his own shoes off and slipping out of his jacket, laying it over a chair as he unbuttons the rests of the buttons on his shirt that Emma didn’t get to at the reception. Before he can slide the material off of his shoulders, Emma comes out of the bedroom, her dress still on but her hair falling in soft waves across her shoulder.

He beckons her closer, and she comes to stand between his splayed knees, her palms coming to caress his face. He tilts his head and kisses her palm, lingering there and breathing her in before he grabs her wrists and slides his fingers into hers, his thumb soothing her knuckles and running over her ringers. When she begins to move away, he tightens his legs around her, keeping her there so that she looks back down at him with her lips tugging up on one side.

“What are you doing?”

He simply hums, staring up at her and admiring her beauty. They’d both imbibed with alcohol tonight, but neither of them is drunk. Maybe a bit dulled and exhausted, but he’s aware of every one of Emma’s movements and the way that her breath catches when he leans forward and kisses her knuckles right above her wedding ring.

“Killian?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Will you help me out of my dress? I tried to do it in the bathroom, but I couldn’t get the buttons undone.”

He chuckles before pressing another kiss against her skin and spreading his thighs apart so that she can turn around and he can deftly unbutton the clasps on her dress, the white material falling from her body and exposing the tan skin and white lace underneath it. He’s seen her like this more times than he cares to count, but it’s no less of a stunning sight watching her hair fall against her nearly bare back. She’s so beautiful, so wonderful, and he wonders if he’ll ever fully adjust to this woman being married to him.

It’s only been a few hours, and it all feels like some sort of surreal dream.

She turns around when the dress hits against the floor, her hands on his shoulders underneath the material of his shirt while her head dips to capture his lips with hers, soft and smooth and tasting of wine and the lemon cake she grabbed on their way out of the reception. When she pulls back, she stands up to her full height and smiles down at him. His hands move from her hips where he’s been fingering the lace of her thong, up her waist, feeling the smooth, soft, muscled skin of her stomach until his fingers rest just below the scrap of material that barely passes as a bra.

“You should wear things like this more often, darling.”

“Well, mister,” she croons, pushing his shirt off of his shoulders so that it falls against the mattress, “you are in luck because I have lots of little things like this for the honeymoon.”

“Do you now?”

“I do.” She traces his skin with her fingers while his thumbs begin to trace the tops of her bra, pulling the material down so that his fingers can rub in circles against her nipples, hardening them while Emma gasps underneath his touch. He can feel his length hardening in his pants, the pressure beginning to build in his spine as he watches her chest heave and thinks about what she just said. “But also unfortunately for you, those pretty little scraps of fabric go away after that and it’s back to my ugly white bra and mismatched panties.”

“You tease.”

“Nope. You married me bud. I don’t have to be sexy for you any longer.”

He laughs at her teasing and pulls her closer so that his lips can press against the skin of her stomach, his tongue following behind them as he traces the lines of her muscles with the freckles scattered across her skin like a constellation of stars. His hands move back down to her hips, pulling her forward and on top of him until he rolls her onto her back, crushing her body into the mattress while he presses himself into her, rolling his hips into hers and allowing the friction to build the pressure, savoring every movement and every sound.

Emma’s quiet tonight, so he makes up for it by constantly whispering things to her, different words of affection mixed in with dirty little nothings echoing throughout the quietness of the room as they move together in a dance they’ve done much more often than their wedding dance. He stands to undo his pants, letting them fall to the ground with Emma’s dress as Emma unclasps her bra, her breasts exposed to his gaze while he’s entirely exposed to hers. Grabbing her ankle, he begins kissing up her leg, only stopping when he gets to her inner thigh so that he can slide the lace covering her down her legs, the both of them bare before each other.

His fingers find their way into her folds, feeling the slickness that’s gathered there while Emma gasps at his touch. He teases her for awhile, slightly thrusting into her while his thumb runs against her bundle of nerves and his lips kiss her hips. Just as he’s about to replace his fingers with his lips, Emma grabs onto his hair, pulling his gaze up to hers.

“Not right now, babe,” she smiles, encouraging him to climb up the mattress so that his length presses against her thigh and his lips against her cheek. “But later, okay. We’ve got all of the time in the world.”

Slowly, slowly, slowly he slides into her, gritting his teeth as he braces himself against the mattress, palms digging into the sheets while Emma throws her head back against the pillow, hips arching up and driving him absolutely mad with pleasure. She’s so warm, always so warm and welcoming, and his body hums at finally being connected to hers after this day. She reaches up to hold his biceps, running her hands back and forth over his muscles while he begins to rock inside of her, the hair of his chest brushing against her hardened nipples.

He’s deliberately unhurried in the way that he moves inside of her, letting the both of them enjoy this moment and this time together. He could do this for hours, moving against her and staying connected in this way. They know each other so well by now, only the occasional instruction needed as to how to please the other, but tonight, there’s none of that. Emma trusts him as he sets their unrushed pace, her tongue caressing his in a languid motion that matches his thrusts.

Emma wraps her legs around his ass, pushing him further inside of her so that he’s tightly buried within her core. Emma moans into his mouth as her nails dig into his shoulder blades, leaving crescent moon scars in his skin while his own mouth moves to leave a mark against pulse point, her skin tasting of sweat and smelling of her flowery perfume. He could get lost in it, lost in her, but he wants to be here for every moment of this.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispers into her ear, making sure that his scruff rubs against the sensitive spot below her ear. “I don’t know how, Emma, but you are. You’re so bloody perfect for me.”

Emma gasps before moving her hands from his shoulder blades to his hair, fingers caressing his strands until she grabs onto his scalp and pulls his lips back to hers. “I love you,” she murmurs against his lips, the sensation of them touching almost feeling like brushes of air.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

He continues to slowly push and pull inside of her, Emma’s reactions only spurring him on, and when she begins to tremble and shake beneath him, her walls contracting around him, he moves against her at a furious face, letting her hold onto him tightly as she falls apart, soft sounds emanating from her lips as she whispers and curses his name and her love for him to his neck. Her reaction increases the pleasure and pressure that’s been building in his spine, spurring him on while Emma comes back to herself. She’s kissing him when he falls apart, pulsing inside of her and spilling himself into her while her lips slant over his to capture any words that he could have possibly said in the midst of his orgasm.

Afterward, he rests his head in her lap while she plays with his hair, stroking his cheek with her other hand while he holds onto her wrist and keeps her hand there. He’s exhausted, but he in no way wants to sleep. In a few hours, he’ll have been up for an entire day, Emma too, but he’s content to stay in this hazy state of bliss that they’re in.

“You know,” she murmurs, her hands still moving in his hair, “this has been a pretty fantastic day.”

“A fantastic life, really.”

She slaps the back of his head. “You’re a cheeseball.”

“I’ll have you know,” he rolls over until he’s propped up beside her, the comforter pooling over their waists, “you are every bit as much of a cheeseball as me. And you married me.”

“That I did.”

“Any regrets?”

“Not yet. Give me a few hours though, babe.”

He laughs before they both crawl down into the bed, finally letting sleep wash over the two of them as their voices quiet and are replaced by the soft sounds of their breathing. When he wakes in the morning, Emma’s wrapped around him, their legs a jumble of limbs beneath the covers, and he feels every bit as warm and as happy as he did yesterday. Her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks, lifting to reveal her emerald eyes staring up at him. He brushes her hair behind her ears, his thumb running underneath her cheeks and brushing away flecks of mascara that remain there.

“Still no regrets, my love?”

She hums before pressing up and kissing his chin. “Just the one.”

“And what’s that?”

“You haven’t gotten me breakfast yet.”

They eventually scramble out of bed, wasting too much time in the shower exploring the lines of their bodies that they already know by heart. He can’t stop smiling, not quite believing that his life is real and that this woman has agreed to be by his side forever. He loves her so damn much, even when they’re arguing and don’t like each other very much, and he’s forever thankful for his partner in life. The water begins to cool, Emma shivering with it, and so they step out, getting ready for their flight while eating the breakfast he ordered.

Emma takes longer than he does to get ready, as always, but when she comes out of the bathroom with her damp hair twisted into two braids that run down her oversized sweater covered chest, he smiles thinking about how beautiful she looks just like this. She was stunning yesterday, something he hopes to never forget, but in all honesty, he prefers her like this. He can’t help but stare as she crosses her purse over her chest and puts on her sneakers. He knows that she can feel his eyes on her by the way that blush rises on her cheeks and her eyes roll as she ties her laces. He’s being, as Emma would say, cheesy. But he doesn’t care.

When she comes to stand next to the door with him, threading her fingers between his, her palm as warm and soft as always, he inquires, “You ready to go, my love?”

Squeezing his hand, the tightness lingering a second too long, she answers, “I’m ready.”

#second in command #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan #excuse me while I go cry in a corner

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imaredshirt · 6 years

Note

For the Domesticity prompts can I get a number 10 for imector in the LOtD? Maybe the first time Imelda’s parents come over after the events of the movie?

Domesticity prompts

10. The in-laws come to visit

Nonnie I’m so sorry I took forever to write this one. It’s the first time I’ve given any real, detailed thought to Imelda’s parents (I headcanon that she was raised by her grandfather) but it was fun! I had actually really wanted it to be a light hearted, funny ficlet but my angst muse took over and was like “NOPE.”

Thank you for the ask, hope this turned out ok! (also it got lengthy, sorry ‘bout that)

Héctor swept a handthrough his hair, patted it down, then ruffled it just a little because itlooked too neat. He adjusted the collar of his pressed white buttondown, straightened his dark blue vest, and then quickly patted his trousersdown to get rid of any rogue dust particles. He sniffed, nodded his head at hisreflection in the hallway mirror, and struck a pose that obviously read“good-and-respectful-and-neat-and-totally-responsible-son-in-law.”

He held the pose for amoment before letting his shoulders sag and running a hand down his face.

If he still had skin,he’d be sweating enough to fill the lake around the city. And then some.

He felt awful. Theupcoming social event of the day had dipped him in a cocktail of emotions, andhe’d been trying to cope for an entire week after Imelda had broken the news tohim. Laying in bed, twiddling his thumbs, staring at the ceiling and pretendingto be asleep whenever Imelda checked in on him with a worried frown. He and hiswife weren’t sleeping in the same room–it was far too early for that, the painwas still too raw–but the relationship between them had advanced enough thatImelda didn’t hide her concern for his emotional well being.

Ever since she’d toldhim who was coming to visit, she’d looked at his worried face and touched hishand reassuringly and told him comfortingly, “It’s going to be ok, Héctor.”

He loved Imelda. He did.And sometimes he believed her. But then he’d think about the day ahead and he’dbecome nervous all over again.

The in-laws were coming.

As if the absence ofnervous sweating had called forth alternative methods of showcasing hisanxiety, he had to struggle to keep himself from fiddling with the sleeves ofhis shirt and biting at the tips of his phalanges like the nervous wreck thathe was.

Before he’d died, andbefore he’d left Santa Cecilia with Ernesto, Imelda’s parents had adored him.Before that, they’d tolerated him. Before that, they’d hated his guts.

Initially, they hadn’tbeen happy with their daughter’s choice of husband. Some skinny, lanky orphanfrom the streets of Santa Cecilia with too much hair and too big ears and whowas just too tall and who could play the guitar wasn’t the man they’d had inmind for their only daughter. Héctor even remembered on the first day he’d metthem, Imelda’s mother, Francisca, had turned to her husband and whisperedbehind her hand that Héctor was too cheerful.

Imelda’s father, Xavier,had sat glaring at Héctor through the entire meeting, arms crossed, and hadn’tsaid a word.

It had taken Héctor…well, quite a while to get them to warm up to him.

He’d shown them that hecould be responsible, that he could support their daughter and protect hisfamily through turbulent times, and that he loved Imelda with all of hisbeing. And even though Imelda’s mother had criticized his cheerfulness at theirfirst meeting, she’d ended up beaming at him every time he greeted her duringtheir later days. He’d made her laugh and whispered chisme with her and dancedwith her when music played while Imelda chuckled and rolled her eyes.

He’d even gotten Xavierto smile once or twice, and made him laugh one night, and that was anachievement not a lot of people could claim.

“You’re like a son tothem,” Imelda had told him one day after her parents had taken the train home.She’d been pregnant at the time, and Héctor had already been so content andfull of love that the thought of someone seeing him as a son had brought tearsto his eyes.

He’d learned a lot fromher parents. He’d grown close to them.

And then, with one trainticket and a farewell to his family and hometown, he’d ruined it all.

He’d run into them,once, after he’d passed away. They’d died only days apart from each other, andrarely traveled alone in the Land of the Dead. It was a meeting that Héctor didnot like to remember. It had been the first time he’d had hints of what hisliving family thought of him, and why he couldn’t cross the bridge to see them.He’d wallowed around the city for days after that, remembering the words Xavierhad said in such a cold voice, and the intensity with which Francisca hadignored him and simply refused to acknowledge his presence.

Somehow, rememberingthat he’d once been almost a son to them had made it all worse.

Héctor shook the thoughtfrom his mind. He ran a hand through his hair again and picked absently at hisshirt collar. Now was not the time to think back on that. It made his nervesworse and he was afraid if he sank further into his ever present anxiety he’dmake a fool of himself in front of the people whose opinion mattered so much tohim, and who probably still thought so little of the man who had left theirdaughter and granddaughter.

But two weeks ago, onlydays after that one whirlwind of a Dia de los Muertos, Imelda had met withthem. She’d traveled to their apartment across the city, where they lived withothers who had lived during their era, and spent hours speaking with them.

When she returned, she’dsat by Héctor’s bed where he lay recovering from his brush with the FinalDeath.

“They want to see you,”she’d said. “Mamá wanted to come today, but I told them no. You need to recoverbefore you can see anyone.” She’d paused, then met Héctor’s eyes with worry. “Ishould have spoke to you first, Héctor, but—”

“No,” Héctor had said, taking her handin his weak grasp and smiling. “No te preocupes. You’re right. I can’t talk tothem like this. How will I make your mamá laugh when I can barely stand?”

Two weeks since then, and Imeldahadn’t been able to delay the meeting any longer.

Héctor was still weak. His knees stillbuckled, he still had to sit after minutes of standing to rest, but he couldn’tbare to stay stuck in a bed while his in-laws stood around him and glared.

He wanted to be at least standing,in clean clothes, when they gave him the talking-to of the century again.

He’d washed and ironed the suit thathis family had given him the night before, and spent an hour dressing himselfto near perfection before the arranged meeting. Well, he thought it was near perfection. He hoped. Maybe?

He looked in the mirror again andpatted his hair down and practiced his smile.

Even his smile was nervous.

“Héctor,” Imelda said, suddenlybehind him. He jumped in surprise and she placed a comforting hand on hisshoulder, sharing a smile with his reflection. “You look fine.”

“Do I?” Héctor patted his hairagain. In another time he might have said Muyguapo, eh, amor? But his mouth was dry which was weird because he was askeleton and didn’t have saliva anyway, and all he was able to continue withwas, “Eeh, are you—”

“I’m positive,” Imelda said. Withher hands on his shoulders, she turned him around and played with the collar ofhis vest. She looked him over, smiled and said with a playful glint in her eye,“Muy guapo, Héctor.”

He hadn’t seen her look at him withthat hint of mischief in ages. He grinned, suddenly feeling refreshed, andopened his mouth to respond in kind.

In the distance, there was the soundof the front door opening, and voices filled the apartment.

“Dios mío,” he said faintly,shrinking in on himself as if he could disappear into his shirt and hide forthe rest of the year.

Imelda cupped his face with herhands and said, “Héctor. I told you, youwill be fine. Believe me, por favor, they wantto see you. Be strong, quierido.”

At her words, Héctor’s phantom heartfluttered, and he straightened up. He gave her a shaky smile as she took hishand, and together they walked around the corner into the sitting room.

He had to clench his jaw to keep histeeth from chattering.

Felipe and Oscar looked up to grinat them, and standing between them, their parents landed their gazes on Héctor likehawks spotting a horror struck field mouse.

The twins had traveled to theirparents’ apartment to bring them over, giving Imelda time to brew some hot teaand make light sandwiches. The drinks and little perfectly made snacks werelaid out on the table, not unlike the first time they’d all met. And also notunlike that first meeting, Héctor felt faint.

Xavier’s mustache was the same dark,carefully groomed mustache he’d sported until his dying day, and his three piecesuit made Héctor’s look as raggedy as an old wash cloth. Standing arm in armwith him, Francisca was as elegant as ever in her dark dress, the stiff collarreaching up under her chin and the hem of the skirt reaching the floor.

“Mamá, Papá,” Imelda said, steppingin front of Héctor to greet them. Standing nervously behind her, Héctor couldn’thelp but feel she was acting like a shield between them, despite her reassuringwords from before.

She exchanged two kisses with her Mamá,and reached up to press one kiss to her Papá’s cheekbone. Xavier’s gaze softenedwhen he looked down at her, but hardened immediately when he looked again atHéctor.

Héctor tried to remember when he’dshared shots of tequila with the man, laughing at some forgotten joke, andgulped.

“Buenas tardes,” Héctor said, andstopped himself because was it ok that he’d spoken first? Should he have waitedfor them to speak? What if—

“Héctor,” Francisca said suddenly,her stern voice cutting across Héctor’s thoughts like a hot knife throughbutter.

She released Xavier’s arm and movedforward, past Imelda and her sons. Imelda watched with barely hidden nervousanticipation, while her brothers were a hair breath away from falling apartwith anxiety.

Héctor was faring no better. Inanother age, he would have grinned and immediately started chatting with her,taking her arm and leading her to a comfortable chair. But now he was barelyable to smile as she neared him, her dark brown eyes reminding him painfully ofImelda’s, and waited while she paused to tilt her head back and stare straightinto his eyes.

She reached up, adjusted his collarwhich had somehow folded the wrong way in the few seconds since he’d last checkedit, and said, “It has been a long time.”

“Si,” Héctor said. He swore he couldfeel a heart somewhere in his ribcage beating fast. “How have you—”

“You’ve suffered for your sins,” shesaid suddenly, and Héctor felt an odd swoop in his chest. He looked down,suddenly feeling very small, and tried to think of what to say with everyonewatching him.

But she didn’t allow him to speak.She continued.

“No more suffering,” she said. Herhands went to his face, shaking his head minutely as she said with warmth inher voice, “Welcome home, mijo.”

She pulled him down to kiss hischeekbones, and patted his face affectionately before releasing him andstepping back.

Still reeling from the unexpectedaffection, speechless, Héctor only had a moment before Xavier moved forward tograb one hand in a firm handshake.

“It’s good to see you again, Héctor,”Xavier said, surprising Héctor again with more affection than Xavier wascapable of showing anyone other than his children, and then used the handshaketo pull Héctor into a quick hug.

They patted each other on the back,Héctor still speechless, before Xavier gave him one more pat and stepped back.

Héctor remained where he was, hislegs feeling like jelly, as Imelda quickly moved to stand next to him and takehis arm in hers. She smiled up at him, patting his hand, as Francisca andXavier moved together to sit on the nearest couch.

“Imelda tells us you met yourgreat-great-grandson,” Francisca said, sitting elegantly next to her husbandand immediately reaching to pour herself a cup of tea. “How is he? Does he playmusic as well as you did?”

“Of course,” Héctor said, feeling asif he was leaving a stupor, and let Imelda lead him to sit across from herparents. Felipe and Oscar, who had exchanged exuberant glances, sat on the twochairs that had been brought in.

“He’s a very good musician,” Héctor continued,sitting and sharing a smile with Imelda, who squeezed his hand comfortinglybefore handing a plate of sandwiches to her father. “He’s better than me!”

Francisca exclaimed words of disbelief,and before Héctor knew it, they were all chatting on the various talents oftheir descendants, Xavier adding his curt opinions every so often, while Imeldaand Héctor snuck secret smiles at each other over their cups of tea.

Without realizing it, all of Héctor’sanxiety had melted away, and he almost fell into the illusion of past memories,sitting with his family, warm and content.

#coco #imelda rivera #hector rivera #anonymous #prompt

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incomplete-nano-stash · 4 years

Text

Welcome to Technasia Ch 3

The ride back to her humble house had been long and confusing. Tuck barely had the strength to open the door, or the balance to stagger across the floor to her bed. She flopped down in the bed, face down, her head sinking into her pillows.

Not exactly what she had in mind for Establishment Day, but the reality had to set in sometime. She was a Princess now, one of the rulers of her country. All it cost was the life of one of her oldest and dearest friends. She shifted her head to look up at her father’s portrait, hanging over her mantel. Fresh, warm tears started streaming.

�� She was interrupted in her sadness by an insistent knock on the door. Tuck groaned. “Whoever it is, I’m not home because I’m auditioning for death!”

A muffled voice came through. “May I come in?”

Tuck vaguely recognized the voice. “Your Highness?”

The door slowly opened and, in the quietest manner possible, Princess Anyia slipped into the room. “I apologize for the lateness, Imogen. It’s part of, ah, my duties of title to brief you on your new life in the Princess Corps.” Princess Anyia carried a thick book in her arms, ancient by the appearance of the hammered leather cover.

Tuck groaned again, then sat up on the side of her bed, rubbing her eyes. “Whatever.” She motioned toward a nearby chair. “Have a seat, Your Highness.”

“Thank you.” Princess Anyia sat down. “That’s one of the first, ah, things I wanted to cover with you. Among our members in the Corps, we don’t, ah, usually stand on ceremony 24/7. In fact we get downright, ah, informal when we’re taking up our daily duties, so, ah, don’t worry about titles or honorifics. Among Princesses, we’re equals. The only one who, ah, gets honorifics all the time is Queen Guerrania.”

“I see. Well, while we’re being all informal, go ahead and call me Tuck. It’s what I’m used to.”

Princess Anyia shifted in the chair. “Oh dear, I’m sorry, it’s just I’m, ah, very uncomfortable with nicknames.” She opened the book in her lap, flipping through pages, searching for the correct passage. “Ah, here we go. First off, we need to establish which, ah, title you will be taking. Eliminating the current Princesses, what does that leave us with …”

Princess Anyia bent over closer, reading carefully. Tuck sat back on her arms, idly staring at the ceiling. “So just exactly how long have you been a princess for, Anyia?”

Princess Anyia looked up in surprise. “Oh, well … nobody really asks that … I guess I’ve, ah, been there quite a long time …”

Tuck nodded. “I remember you being the Princess of Literacy even when I was a little girl. It has to have been a while.”

Princess Anyia blushed slightly. “Well, I … er … oh, here we go.” She turned the conversation away from herself in the most awkward way possible. “Looks like by, ah, your trade and expertise that you’ll be the Princess of Technology.”

This made Tuck raise an eyebrow. “Is there even such a title? I don’t even remember hearing about it in school.”

“It’s quite, ah, rare, to tell the truth.” Princess Anyia tapped her book. “According to this, ah, there’s only been two previous ones and the last one died two hundred years ago.”

“What exactly is that?” Tuck leaned forward, interested.

“This is an archive of Technasian history that, ah, I’ve been spending my entire career to, ah, assemble.” Princess Anyia turned the book toward Tuck. “Here. My work on this earned me, ah, my Princess title, if that gives you an idea of how long I’ve worked on this.”

Princess Anyia seemed nervous about letting the book out of her grip. Tuck raised her hands. “That’s quite all right, you can hang on to it. I just … it’s so sudden and crazy. Why make me a Princess? I’m not exactly the type for a royal title.”

Princess Anyia sighed. “None of us ever were. We all, ah, did our jobs, but then we each had one thing we did that drew attention, that made us, ah, stand out, and which earned us our titles. At least it got us into the, ah, running for a public vote to take the title, anyway.” The Princess seemed to narrow her eyes at Tuck. “No Princess has been, ah, named by royal appointment since the last, ah, Princess of Art sixty years ago. It’s, ah, curious that you have garnered it.”

Tuck ran her fingers along her metal arm. “Not everyone has one of these.”

“Ah, yes, the, ah, arm that your father and Giana created for you.” Princess Anyia adjusted her glasses and looked closer at the device. “Quite advantageous to have this, would you not agree?”

Tuck chuckled, flexing the metal fingers gently. “More like a necessity. With only one arm it’s hard to do my work.”

Princess Anyia shrugged. “Ah well, it is what it is. Anyway, here, let’s, ah, get you ready, ah, for your position.” She flipped to another page in the book. “As Princess, you will hold power over elements of our nation’s society, geared toward your expertise. In your case, the Princess of Technology oversees our nation’s technological development, in regards to, ah, engineering and physical sciences.”

“Uh huh.” Tuck reached up to the back of her neck and unplugged the information vine from its port, letting her metal arm fall slack. Unclipping three hooks detached the appendage from her body, allowing her to remove the arm from her sleeve and hang it up on a peg on her wall, just above the bed. “Anything else the job entails?”

Princess Anyia, slightly distracted by watching Tuck remove her arm, cleared her throat and continued. “Well, ah, your duties also include assisting with the governance of the nation, and acting as an advisor to Queen Guerrania. You will need to keep appraised to, ah, international affairs. Especially where it, ah, comes to relations with Litigia.”

Tuck felt like she should have been more fearful of the mention of Technasia’s bitter rival, but she was too tired to care right now. “So diplomacy, great. Just what I’ve never been trained to do.”

Princess Anyia chuckled. “Don’t worry, we’ll, ah, help you out with it.” She returned to the book as Tuck returned to a prone position. “Okay, so, ah, you will have free quarters at the Central Palace, with which you can do as you please so long as no, ah, blatantly illegal activity takes place. You may also choose to move in and live there, but you are encouraged to not, ah, abuse this privilege.”

Tuck gave a barely audible acknowledgment.

“Then there’s, ah, the ceremonies for, ah, coronation and … oh …” Princess Anyia allowed herself to trail off as she looked up from the book and noticed that Tuck had fallen asleep. Though she felt she should have been annoyed by it, Princess Anyia instead simply stood up and quietly left the room, allowing the newest Princess to rest before the business coming the next day.

Insistent knocking on the door of the workshop made Tuck jump and nearly tumble out of her bed. The light was still low, too low to be dawn yet. Trying to assemble herself, she barked, “We’re not open yet!”

“Your Highness, I’m here to take you to the Central Palace.” The male voice on the other side of the door sounded official enough.

“What are you … oh yeah. One minute, please!” Tuck rubbed her face, the memories of the previous day starting to come back to her. Quickly, she changed her clothes out of the outfit she had worn to the parade, finishing off the look by putting her arm back on. Satchel securely on her shoulder, she finally opened the door.

A retinue of ten royal guards stood around a small, nondescript carriage, awaiting her emergence. The captain of the group, a tall, middle-aged man displaying finely-groomed facial hair, knelt before her. “Your Highness, this way.”

Tuck tapped the guard on his shoulder. “At ease, soldier. I guess let’s go, lead on.”

The guard nodded, guiding her toward the door of the carriage. Inside, she was greeted by another man, considerably less armored but still in royal finery. He carried a sheaf of papers in his arm, flipping through them.

“Good morning, Your Highness, my name is Jurness and I am your assistant.” He pulled a sheet of paper out of the sheaf and handed it toward Tuck. “You’ll need to read over and sign these before we get to the Central Palace …”

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute, I haven’t even completely woke up yet!” Tuck suddenly was thrown back in her seat as the carriage started moving on the street. She heard the ten guards, all of which were on horseback, following in the loudest procession she had ever been in. “Who are you exactly? Not that I won’t need one, but why do I have an assistant?”

Jurness nodded. “Oh, that’s right. I apologize, Your Highness, I should have explained better. Every Princess has an assistant, we give daily briefings on the nation’s business. If it happens in Technasia, we let you know.”

Tuck nodded. “Okay. So what am I signing my life away for?”

“Not exactly, you just need to sign off that I’ve discussed this business with you.” At this admission, Tuck finally took the paper from Jurness, reading it over briefly.

“Okay, so what am I looking at?”

Jurness responded without missing a beat. “Official missive from King Turgen Halder of Litigia, regarding Princess Giana.” The assistant’s face darkened slightly. “Condolences.”

Tuck nodded and turned her attention to the missive.

The Kingdom of Litigia hereby sends its warmest and fondest regards and condolences to the royal corps and the people of Technasia, in regards to the passing of Princess Giana Killaine. We will be sending a diplomatic party to attend the memorial services for the princess. Please accept our ambassador with the same warmth we offer to you in your time of mourning.

Tuck rubbed her eyes. The emotional pain was resurfacing. “Okay.” She signed the paper quickly before she was unable to read more, handing it back to Jurness. “Seems rightly neighborly of them.”

“Oh, it’s the old diplomatic song and dance. They have to seem friendly, or else someone could take offense, and then we have a war, and nobody wants that.” Jurness lowered his voice. “Nobody sane, anyway.”

Tuck nodded. Jurness handed her another missive, which she read over briefly.

Queen Guerrania of Technasia hereby announces that the vacancy created by the unfortunate death of Princess Giana Killaine will be filled by her successor and new Princess, Imogen Inperia.

Tuck was immediately self-conscious. “Good God, the body isn’t even cold and she’s already announcing it?” Her breathing accelerated.

“She was eager to let the world know that we’ll have a full Princess Corps despite the tragedy. It prevents the appearance of weakness.” Jurness rested his cheek on his hand. “It’s part of the game, Your Highness, and you’re going to have to learn how to play it if you plan on staying a Princess for a while.”

Tuck held her tongue for her immediate response, that she didn’t even want it in the first place, and simply continued reading the missive.

The new Princess Imogen will assume her position in the line of succession following the memorial for Princess Giana. Princess Hanna Umbriel will move to 4th in line for the throne. The public is invited to the coronation of Princess Imogen, to meet their newest public servant.

Tuck nodded. She was going to have to get used to all the publicity and attention. She quickly signed the missive and handed it back to Jurness. “Anything else?”

Jurness found one more paper he felt important. “One last thing, you don’t have to sign this one. We’ve received word who the ambassador Litigia has sent is from our border checkpoints.”

Jurness handed the report over to Tuck. It showed a royal procession arriving at a southwestern border checkpoint, guarding Litigian royalty and an ambassador identified as Lord Firnian Moethran.

“Why does this name sound familiar?” Tuck stroked her chin.

“I wouldn’t know,” Jurness responded, “I don’t keep track of Litigian politics. Those people are goddamn nutjobs. Pardon my language, Your Highness.”

Tuck smirked. “God knows I say worse when I stub my toe, it’s okay.” She handed the report back to Jurness. “I’m assuming we’re going to assign a security detail to them?”

Jurness nodded. “Princess Ramia has already ordered as much. Don’t worry about everything, Your Highness, we do a good job of dividing the burden among all of the Princesses.”

“I suppose so,” Tuck sighed, turning her attention out the window of the carriage, watching the familiar streets go by and almost dreading her arrival at the Central Palace.

#nanowrimo #incomplete nano

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andmynewlymeltedheart · 7 years

Text

Open to My Eyes

Please let me know what you think on my AO3 under the username andmynewlymeltedheart! Also if you like it, reblog it please! I love to hear what you guys think

CHAPTER TWO: RECEPTION

As her eyes rounded the settings they finally came back to the entirely vacant seat next to her own. Mr. Pierre Bezukhov.

Read chapter one here.

Natasha ate and danced and laughed, mingled and met with family members and old friends and discussed how happy she was for her brother and new sister-in-law. As the night wore on she lost her shoes and tied up her dress, and after spending hours on her feet, she sat back down at her table. She watched Marya and Nikolai as they moved throughout the room, greeting guests and chatting happily, only finding a few moments to themselves. Natasha noticed as she watched them through the evening that their hands rarely parted, and when they did they found their way back to each other soon after. They stood very near to each other, and there were times that even though the room was filled with people, she could tell that, to each other, they were the only ones present. It was a simple thing to observe, but Natasha felt it was the loveliest thing in the world.

She looked around her table, covered with shoes and purses and suit-jackets and now-rid-of ties, and noticed the small name cards at each seat. She peeked around the opposite side, reading the golden designations, picking out the names of her mother, her sister, and the Drubetskoy’s. As her eyes rounded the settings they finally came back to the entirely vacant seat next to her own. Mr. Pierre Bezukhov.

Natasha had noticed aching that had begun in her chest early on only increased throughout the evening, realizing that it was a sense of longing for something unknown, and she felt it pulse through her as the night wore on. She hadn’t quite known what to make of it, and had worked to ignore it for most of the reception, but now as she sat alone at the table, the feeling came on stronger than ever.

She knew it was a feeling that would only be worsened by even a thin buzz, and she had refused all but the champagne toast, which she had only had a few sips of before the bubbles began to upset her stomach. Friends and family had offered her wine and assorted brews throughout the evening, but she held to her offer to Pierre, hoping that he would show up.

She pulled her phone out of her purse, checking for messages or missed calls, but there was nothing. He must have fallen asleep, she thought, and tossed her phone back into her purse, leaning back into her chair. She found herself wishing he was there, knowing that even his presence would bring her comfort. She knew that it wasn’t likely that he would appear. She wasn’t upset with him for his absence-- she understood very well the need to stay away from things you’re worried you can’t resist. She sighed and noticed the upbeat line dance that was playing began to fade out, and the DJ came over the sound system.

“This song is a special request from the groom to the bride. Find someone you love and bring them onto the dance floor for this one.”

She heard a familiar crooning voice come over the tent and watched as Nikolai pulled Marya into a close, slow swaying dance.

The aching was beginning to become unbearable, and Natasha found herself staring down at her hands, holding back tears, unsure of the cause of their presence. She breathed deeply and closed her eyes, feeling a small, hot tear roll down her cheek, and was somewhat startled when she felt a rather large hand take one of hers.

“May I...may I have this dance?” the familiar, deep voice asked, and Natasha looked up, straight into Pierre’s eyes

She stood and immediately pulled him into a close, tight embrace, one of her hands resting on the nape of his neck, and after a moment he reciprocated. The aching in her chest eased, replaced by a warm, fluttering feeling, and she welcomed the change.

“Are you alright, Tasha?” Pierre asked quietly.

“I’ve just...I’ve been feeling weird,” she said, pulling back to look at him, “Of course, I’d love to dance.”

He took her hand, guiding her out onto the floor.

They danced for a moment in silence, Pierre’s right hand placed very properly on the high part of Natasha’s waist, Natasha’s left on his shoulder, and their other hands clasped tightly together. They swayed in time with the lazy beat of the drum, looking at each other.

“Have you had a good time so far?” Pierre asked, breaking the silence.

“For the most part. I missed having my best friend here, for sure.”

“I’m sorry. I should have come earlier, I feel so terrible about it.”

“Don’t,” Natasha replied, sternly but kindly, “Nikolai and Marya understood. I told them and they said that whatever you needed to do was what was right.”

He gave a half smile, but Natasha saw the guilt dancing in his eyes again.

“I wish I wasn’t like this,” he muttered, “I wish I was better than this.”

“Healing takes time, Pierre. I think you that told me that. And as for being better? I don’t know anyone better than you. You’re just...human is all. Sorry to tell you, but it’s something we all have to deal with in our own way.”

His smile returned, genuine and sheepish.

“Thanks Tasha. Thanks for just...understanding.”

“I will say, though I would never have been disappointed in you for staying home, I am proud of you for coming. That’s a big thing.”

“I’m glad I’m here,” he declared, “I would have been upset to have missed this. The...reception I mean...”

Natasha smiled and pulled herself in closer, resting her head on Pierre’s chest.

“I wouldn’t want to miss this either.”

The song continued and they swayed, and Natasha noticed that Pierre was humming softly to the music. He began to sing on the final few lines, low enough so that only Natasha could hear.

“Take...my...hand… Hmmmm…. For I...can’t help… Falling in love with… You… For I can’t help… Falling...in love...with… You…”

As the song began to fade, Natasha moved her head from Pierre’s chest, looking up into his eyes, and she felt time and the universe drift away, leaving only herself and Pierre, and the growing warmth of the fluttering in her chest.

They stayed like this for a moment, entranced by the other, and were pulled back to reality only by the eruption of applause from the wedding guests surrounding them. The pair chuckled, pulling away from each other, Pierre shoving his hands in his pockets, Natasha smoothing out her dress. Pierre’s face became thoughtful and indistinct.

“Well,” Natasha managed, straining a little.

“Um...yeah. I um...need some water,” Pierre said, breaking his gaze with Natasha, “I’ll be back.”

“Oh, sure,” Natasha said, sensing a shift, “Um, I have to go check on something real quick anyway, go ahead.”

Pierre turned, walking awkwardly away, shaking his head, and Natasha turned, walking back to her table confused.

The aching returned, and the further she walked away the stronger it got. It pulsed through her, filling her whole body, pounding in her eardrums, like some kind of internal alarm waking her up.

Oh.

The aching, Natasha realized, had disappeared entirely with Pierre, replaced by the beautiful, fluttering feeling that she wished would never end. It made her feel nervous and content and like she was flying, and the further away she got from dancing with Pierre, the closer she came to crashing into the ground.

Of course.

Natasha stopped, the realization washing over her completely now, and turned on her heel back toward the direction Pierre had left. She began walking, her pace quickening with each step, turning into a jog, and then a sprint. She searched the crowd for him, weaving feverishly through the crowd.

But it seemed he was already gone.

#pierretasha #natasha pierre and the great comet of 1812 #war and peace #great comet #the great comet #the great comet of 1812 #natasha rostova #pierre bezukhov #natasha x pierre #pierre x natasha #natasha and pierre #pierre and natasha #fic #fanfic #fan fiction #writing #my writing #my fic #open to my eyes

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squaredancing-weston · 7 years

Text

para || Braine: A New Path, 1/04/2017

Tagging: @mr-blainderson and @squaredancing-weston

Time: Wednesday Morning, 4 January 2017

Setting: Boarding Facility (and trails), Harrod, OH

Summary: Brody and Blaine both need to get away from Lima’s crazy, so Brody takes Blaine to learn the basics of horseback riding.

Part 1

Brody had texted Blaine the directions the night before, assuming his coworker probably was going to wake up at a normal hour. Brody himself hadn't slept much at all-- he just couldn't seem to keep his mind quiet long enough to get anything worthwhile-- and so he ended up at the barn ridiculously early a lot these last few days. The beauty of owning a horse really: between mucking, grooming, and basic maintenance, there was no shortage of work even before exercise. At this rate he wouldn't need to pay anything for upkeep this year. However, he already had one friend assuming the worst about him and didn't need another, so he simply told Blaine he'd be at the barn at 8, so if he wanted to come up and dress warm the older teacher would be more than happy to show him the ropes of riding. A day without drama would be a well-deserved break at this point, honestly.

Blaine jolted awake as his alarm went off, at first incredibly confused as to why it went off in the first place. He sat up slowly, bringing a hand to his throbbing head. He knew for a fact that he didn't drink that much the night before; maybe it was the reason why he drank that was causing the problems? Watching his friend almost self-destruct last night sucked, but when he first got the message from Marley that she was on her way to get him, he relaxed a little, but he was still on edge. So he grabbed a bottle of wine and drank. And evidently more than he intended. So there he sat in bed the next morning, intently staring at his phone, trying to figure out why the alarm went off. Suddenly it all came back to him. He cursed, effectively scaring Bing, who he promptly apologized to with a quick pat to the head and a promise of belly rubs later in the day. He quickly ran into the kitchen to put on some coffee and pour some dog food for Bing, before running back to his bedroom. He put on his long johns and then layered his jeans, a long sleeved shirt and another button down on top. He had promised the other man his cowboy best, had he not? Not to mention that he could already feel the chill from outside coming through. A short time later, he was walking out the door with his travel mug of coffee in hand and a sad pup yelping after him. Blaine had confidence he'd be okay, but it was still hard to just walk away.

Blaine made his appearance at the barn shortly after 8:30. On his drive, he had decided that it was probably best /not/ to bring up everything with Marley and Sebastian unless Brody did, though he really didn't expect that to happen. Brody didn't know that Blaine knew some details, and while he believed that Brody and he were pretty good friends, he wasn't sure if they were /that/ close. So he decided he would shelve it for now. He hopped out of his car and walked towards the barn, seeing a figure working inside. He perked himself up as much as he could, his small hangover still doing wonders to his personality and called out to him. "Hey, John Wayne, how's it hanging?"

Eight o'clock had come and gone, and while Brody hadn't made it seem specific, he didn't want to wait too long to get started. Blaine tended to be the more reliable of the people he knew, but he did have a new puppy, and things came up. So After giving Delilah a thorough brushing, he went to grab his extra gear out of his trucki to finish getting ready. He was already wearing thermals beneath his jeans and long-sleeved shirt, so he added a fleece vest and, after a thought, went ahead and grabbed his chaps. He didn't know if the weather was going to get rough, but they didn't do any harm. He'd started saddling his own horse up, his second cup of coffee steaming beside him, when he heard Blaine call out and turned around. Brody chuckled at the greeting. "If I had any gift for impressions, I'd give some variation of a Howdy Partner," he replied, leaving the mare and walking to give Blaine a friendly pat on the arm. "Glad you could make it out. I always forget that not everyone is willing to leave their bed so early during vacation. I swear, I've had people stay over that I've left the house, given Dee here a full work-out, come back, and they were still in bed." Not that Brody had really minded; especially recently, he'd kind of liked being able to come home to have someone to flop back into bed with, and Marley liked to cuddle-- so had Bas, funny enough. But he wasn't here to think about either of them, except, "Totally unrelated subject, but these--" he gestured to his chaps "--are actually completely utilitarian, so if we could lay off any innuendo, that'd be great." Normally he didn't mind the jokes, but really, after last night, he'd thought enough about Sebastian to last him a while. "Anyways, where are my manners? Why don't we get you acquainted?" the older teacher said, gesturing toward the two horses that were lazing beneath layers of blankets and saddles at the edge of the barn, obviously in no rush to walk out further into the cold. He patted the brown one, who nudged him affectionately in return, "Blaine, this is Delilah, and she will be your mount today. You be nice to her, and she'll treat you just fine." Brody nodded his head to invite the younger man closer, guiding his hand toward the mare's muzzle.

Blaine just smiled and shrugged, "I suppose I'll forgive you, any attempt at 'There's a snake in my boot!' will get you all sorts of brownie points." Blaine nodded, giving Brody his own pat to the back in response. "I'm glad I could too. I actually did mean to get here earlier, but when I woke up it took me so long to remember why I was awake, and then I wanted to set Bing up, and basically everything just took a lot longer than I had inticipated." He paused for a moment then continued. "Well that doesn't sound like too bad of a deal; if nothing else you get to feel like the productive one." Blaine was surprised at the request, as he realized where the thought probably came from, but he covered it with a smirk. "I'll take your word for it, but be warned that I may take time to observe anyway," he dead panned, trying to stifle his laugh.

Blaine: Blaine followed him inside the barn towards the horses and smiled as he watched Brody interact with them. There was just something about seeing someone so at home in an environment that gave you a cozy feeling. He let Brody guide his hand, but even so, he was cautious when he initially made contact with the horse. He had never been around horses before, but they always seemed like they deserved the utmost respect. Blaine smiled as he softly stroked her muzzle. "Hey there, Delilah," he said, fully intending the reference, "I'm Blaine. I promise to be a perfect gentleman."

Brody laughed. "Personally I'm more partial to 'I'm Woody. Howdy, howdy, howdy,'" he admitted, flapping his hand comically in reference. "I mean, I can understand how that wasn't really on par, but how do you beat a shark in a cowboy hat?" He nodded in understanding. "Honestly, I should have pushed this back-- Dee probably wouldn't have minded for the air to warm up a bit. But I like the open space." He wanted to say he liked being alone, but considering he was about to go riding with Blaine, that might give off the wrong impression. "But the pup's good?" he followed up, smirking at the younger man. "You managed to avoid his thrall and leave the house?" He gave a laugh. "Yeah, that's a good point. Although I worry sometimes that they'll wake up before I get back and think I snuck out on them in my own house. Which I did, but not for the same reason." At Blaine's warning response, Brody managed a half-smile and a shrug. "I suppose as long as you're aware I'm not trying to make trouble," he replied. Blaine definitely took well to the horses: cautious, but eager. Which was good, because the worst thing to be around a horse was nervous, in Brody's opinion. Not that he intended to tell the newcomer, but they could get jumpy if they thought there was a reason to be, so it was always best to be confident. Of course he made use of the lyric, but Brody just smiled. Like he'd said, by the time he'd picked her up she was already named, so now he just dealt with it. Better than the Samson refererences, anyways. "Aw, I don't think she doubts that for a second," he assured the other man, reaching into his vest pocket and pulling out a sugar cube to hand to Blaine before Dee caught wind of it. "These are given out sparingly, but since she's yours this morning, no harm in winning her over early." He grinned. Brody finished saddling up the horses-- he'd borrowed one from the stable owners to take out with them, and gave Blaine a quick rundown on how to lead a horse on foot. "Hopefully we won't have to do it much besides here," he explained as they trudged out to the trails. "But with the weather like it's been, you never know." As they reached an open space, Brody slowed up and began to help Blaine into the saddle, explaining the basics of posture and equipment. "She's got an easy temperament, so she'll go where you lead her," he told Blaine as he watched Blaine take Dee for a test walk. "Just take it easy, keep your grip loose, and hold on with your knees so you don't fall off."

Blaine laughed with him and nodded his head. "I will accept that as a substitute to an actual Woody impression, so no worries," he said through his giggling. Blaine nodded, pointing to his car. "I can always come back some other time if you think that would be better." Though he wasn't sure that would be any time soon. According to the radar, the temperature was actually supposed to be dropping over the next couple of days. He looked out over the open area beside the barn and nodded, which made him think twice about his suggestion. "Yeah, I can see that. It looks like a good way to clear your head if you needed it," he said, sounding nonchalant, but throwing in a subtle, suggestive nudge in his tone. He glanced back over to Brody, nodding. "Yeah, he's good. It took him all of 2 hours to get settled in. It's like he's been living there for months instead of days." Blaine smirked and nodded. "Yes, I managed to avoid the puppy eyes of doom to get here." Blaine just chuckled at his friend. "I don't imagine most people thinking that you would try to skip out on them by abandoning your own home." He grinned and shrugged. "Trouble is the furthest thing away from my mind. I know how to control myself."

Blaine looked down at his hand as Brody placed the sugar cube in his hand. With a small smile, he extended his hand to the horse to see if she'd take it, which she did. He giggled as her mouth sucked up the cube and continued to lick his hand for a moment, makings sure to get every last bit. After she was finished, he dropped that hand, bringing his other up to pet her head and scratch softly behind the ear. Blaine watched Brody intently as he saddled the horses, subconsciously running a soft hand through Delilah's mane. He was just amazed at the ease and quickness that the other man performed the task. He listened as Brody explained everything, taking the reins in his hand and following the other's lead. He nodded in understanding, feeling relatively at ease in the role of leading the horse. When it came time to actually climbing on board, he was a bit more hesitant; he didn't want to embarrass himself by falling, but there was also something unnerving about having control over such a powerful animal and that control would come once he was on the saddle. However, with a little help from Brody, he found himself sitting comfortably (though he knew that probably wouldn't last long) and he felt himself relaxing a little bit more. He followed Brody's instructions, loosening his grip on the reigns and tightening his knees just slightly, which did wonders to make him feel more secure. Once he was sure he was fine, he nodded to Brody. "Okay, I think I'm g-" He was interrupted by Delilah taking a step that he wasn't expecting. He let out a shaky laugh and patted her neck. "Okay, Delilah, I'll give you that one. But give a guy some warning next time."

Brody flashed a grin, glad to just be part of something easy and friendly. At least he didn't have to worry about misinterpretation with Blaine-- the younger teacher didn't really seem to have that sort of nuance to him, honestly, which Brody really needed a break from anyways. "Good to know." When Blaine gestured to his vehicle, the older man shook his head. "No, no-- I jut meant not everyone is ready to be awake this early. But both of us are up--" he gestured to himself and the horse "--so if you are too, then there's no problem at all." He nodded along with the younger man's reply, inhaling the brisk air, "Yeah, I guess that whole communing with nature, or the Beast, or whatever, right?" he added. God knew he needed to get the crazy of Lima out of his head, not that Blaine seemed to be aware of Brody's part in it. He was probably dealing with his own drama, being sucked up into Marley and Bas' inability to cope with their shit. It was infuriating, and as awful as it was to just pass it off to poor Blaine, Brody just didn't have the stomach for it right now. But hearing about Bing did make him laugh, "So he pretty much owns the place now?" he ribbed. "He's a little thing, right? Maybe once you get the hang of this you can bring him up and he can ride in a saddlebag." He laughed in amusement at his own idea-- it wasn't unusual for horse owners to bring up their dogs really; they just weren't normally the size of a large rat. "No, I guess they wouldn't," he agreed with a casual shrug. He'd kind of grown to appreciate his and Sebastian's arrangement of leaving him in bed while Brody left the house. It had been comfortable, thinking of it more as a morning routine and less as Bas sneaking out like some sort of tramp. But he wasn't here to think about that stuff. "Well that makes one of us," Brody teased, nudging the other man in the arm with a grin. Dee definitely was excited for the treat-- Brody grew up around horses, and his mother taught equine nutrition, so he wasn't as apt to hand out food without reason. However there was something to be said for food-bonding: it was quick, for one thing, and everyone liked to feed animals. Plus it gave Blaine the confidence to come closer still, pulling his hand through the horse's mane and assuring the girl. Blaine took to instructions well, thank goodness-- Brody admitted to himself he wasn't that great of a teacher, even though he was an excellent rider himself. But they made it out to the trail and after a little effort the younger man managed to scramble into the saddle. His knees tucked in, and his grip was loose-- it looked okay from the ground. When Delilah jostled him backwards, spooking Blaine, Brody couldn't help but laugh. "Whoops. Don't worry: if that's the worse she does, you're in good shape." He pulled forward the borrowed horse and fluidly swung his leg up and over, settling himself onto the saddle and playing with the reins to get a feeling for his new mount's head. "I think we're good," he announced, glancing over at Blaine. "You ready?" Blaine had implied he had a time limit, and he was a beginner, so Brody obviously wasn't going to take them out on the trail he'd found the other day. He didn't even choose the trails that Lucy usually rode, since Quinn's daughter had been doing this for a few years, even at eleven. Instead he turned at the path that would take them on a wide path, keeping his borrowed ride alongside and yet a little ahead of Dee and Blaine, a nice slow pace along the dirt. "So besides your new dog, how did the holiday end up treating you?" he asked conversationally. He felt a little guilty, but he didn't remember much about Blaine's vacation.

Blaine smiled and nodded in understanding, holding his almost empty travel mug up. "Well, in that case, I'm up. So we should be good." He watched Brody, taking a deep breath of his own and actually enjoying the brisk air that filled his lungs. Blaine nodded, smiling slightly. "I guess it would be all of the above in this situation? It's been a while since I connected with either. I'm hoping it's my cup of tea, to be honest." It's not so much that he minded being involved; if his involvement meant that this whole thing between all three of them would be over sooner, he'd take it. But with Sebastian acting like a child, Brody taking the quiet, brooding route, and Marley going into something of a mope, it was proving to not only be difficult to do so, but it was exhausting him. He chuckled along with Brody, nodding his head. "Unfortunately. He learned his way around the place pretty quickly." Blaine nodded again, bringing his hand up to help demonstrate the sizes. "Right now, he's no bigger than a good sized guinea pig. But he's also pretty young; only 10 weeks or so. By the time he's fully grown, he'll be about ye high," he said, leaning down and putting his hand level with his knee. "I think it's the poodle aspect." He chuckled, imaging a still small Bing poking out of a bag on the side of the horse. "You got me, that would be adorable." His eyes widened, as did his smile at Brody's teasing. "Wow, and I thought Seb was the only one I had to worry about."

Blaine shot him an embarrassed smile and nodded, relaxing again in the seat to get ready to start moving. He watched his friend start his horse carefully, following his movements and smiling smugly to himself when Dee started moving forward. Though he wasn't sure if it was because he actually did something correctly or if she was just naturally following the other pair. It took him a moment to get used to the movements and how his body moved when the horse did. But after a few minutes, he felt comfortable. He looked at Brody with a small smile. "It wasn't too bad to me. It was pretty quiet. Well, for the most part, obviously. But I played a show at Acoustix on Christmas Eve, since my family told me they weren't going to be able to come back to Christmas. But it kind of reminded me what music was to me, so it's encouraged me to dive back in a little bit." He was just rambling at this point, still in wonder at the fact that he was actually riding a horse.

Brody flashed a grin at the cup. "Trust me, I'm right there with you-- I've already had my second." Granted, his was more a result of lack of sleep than having trouble waking up, but saying it this way didn't invite awkward questions. He laughed as Blaine mentioned a lack of nature in his life. "Well, then, this is as good a place to start as any. Trust me, everyone likes a horse. It's genetic programming." Literally, Brody thought sometimes-- every time he mentioned having a horse, everyone was eager to start riding. He was never sure if it was just a conversation piece or people were genuinely that eager to ride something. "//Un//fortunately? Are you sure it was a good idea to leave him alone then? I'd hate for you to get back and have your place be covered in down as punishment for leaving him behind." Brody tilted his head in surprise as Blaine moved his hand down to his knee to show how big Bing was going to get-- he was just so used to little dogs by now, he guessed, he figured everyone was getting them. "Really? Well, I guess we could get you a very large one," he chuckled. "True, although you're lucky he's not going for the standard size right? Otherwise you'd end up with a bit of a monster." Brody chuckled, "Hey, always happy to offer potential pet bonding ideas. You know, with my vast dog-owning experience," he added with an ironic laugh. The older man could honestly barely remember the last time he owned a dog-- it had definitely been a family pet, that was for sure. Brody's features froze for a split second at the mention of Sebastian's name, but he quickly recovered and laughed in reply. Of course Blaine would have experience with Bas' antics-- it wasn't like the pompous peacock was shy with his personality, and considering how much back and forth they'd gotten into, it would be stupid for Brody to not expect the guy to be a basis of comparison for his own shenanigans. "Now come on; I like to think I'm a little better behaved than //that//," he responded with a smirk. Most trail riding wasn't really brain-surgery, and they were on a beginner's route, so Blaine picked it up easily, Brody was glad to see. He would have hated to prove that he was a sucky instructor by getting his friend thrown on his first time out. Brody raised his eyebrows in surprise, "You did? Man, I'm sorry I missed that one-- ironically the night I wasn't out." He nodded with interest, encouraging the man on, "I'm sorry you didn't get to see your family over the holiday-- that's rough. But it sounds like your set went over well-- what did you sing?" He looked over at Blaine as he explained his plans and smiled. "So, something you're thinking of pursuing for yourself? Not just teaching?" he pressed, giving a quiet laugh. "I admit, I still think about getting back into dance sometimes, especially around this time of year. If I wasn't such an old man, I might actually consider the idea seriously. But I mean, definitely let me know when you're going to be playing again-- I'm a really good performer enthusiast. Got my big foam finger and everything." He glanced past Blaine, nodding into the brush, "Deer," he pointed out matter-of-factly, making sure Blaine actually got the chance to see the nature he was coming out for. For Brody, it felt like kind of a Bambi moment, every time he came across one in winter, because he wondered how smart the animals could be, if, with all the noise he ended up making, they were just standing there staring. But Brody wasn't a hunter-- in fact, he was a shit shot all around-- so it wasn't like he was going to have to watch the thing die anytime soon.

"Oh, don't get me paranoid, I'm sure he'll be fine and forgiving," Blaine replied, but he was a little unsure himself. But, there had to come a day when the pup would have to deal with his owner leaving, but he hoped today would ease Bings mind by assuring him that he'd always come back. Blaine nodded. "He won't be the biggest dog out there by any means, but he'll be a bit bigger than your average toy breed." He laughed with a small shrug. "I was aiming for the perfect cuddle size and by golly I think I found it." He settled back into a smile. "So you've never had a pet before? In the dog, cat or hamster region?" Blaine noticed the quick hitch in Brody's actions, having momentarily forgotten about he entire situation. He shot Brody an apologetic smile, trying to hide his guilt before he grinned and sauntered ahead of him. "I guess you'll just have to prove it."

Blaine smiled kindly and shrugged. "It's okay, it's not like I really advertised it or anything. It was pretty last minute and I have a some pull with Ted, the owner, so I got the stage for the night." He scoffed and shook his head. "If this wasn't the third Christmas it's happened, I'd probably be more upset. My family and I...were not exactly what you'd call close." Between his brother's undying aspirations for acting, his father's undying bitterness about Blaine's orientation, and his mothers undying need to follow his father blindly, there just wasn't a lot of space left for family bonding activities. He found his smile again, though, as he thought about his performance that night. "It was your basic Christmas set, I guess. All the classics; Winter Wonderland, Let it Snow, Baby, It's Cold Outside, where I got a lovely volunteer to help with the duet on that one. And I ended on Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. It was a good night. I hadn't had a night like that in ages." Blaine looked off in the distance thoughtfully. "I mean, teaching's great and it is a passion of mine. But music's always been my number one. It's the thing that tethered me when all I wanted was to fly away. I don't know if it's something I'll pursue as a career or anything, but it is something I want to pay more attention to." Blaine smirked. "Brody, I know we all joke about you being an old man, but you seem far from being incapable of pursuing it if you really wanted to." He nodded, shooting the other a shy grin. "I will, for sure, though I'd prefer it if you left the foam finger at home." He perked up and followed Brody's finger, eyes lighting up as he saw the deer. It wasn't like he hadn't seen a deer before, but the atmosphere was different this time that it felt like a real treat. "Wow," he muttered under his breath, looking around to see if there were more.

#ttl #Blaine Anderson #para #A New Path #p. Blaine #Harrod

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