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themissingteasp69n · 2 years

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He Who Laughs Last…

When Felix achieved his lifelong ambition to be a clown with the Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey Circus, he felt it was time to get married. He was 30-years-old, and had spent the last nine years training to be a classic clown.

The year was 1959, and the famous circus was wintering in Venice, Florida. The owners, John Ringling North and Arthur Concello, had moved the circus from tents to indoor shows a few years ago.

Felix was a thrifty bachelor who saved his money. He dated the same woman, Laura, for two years, and he was very much in love with her. She said she was in love with him and wanted to have his babies.

It was a small, but nice wedding, with mainly family members from both sides attending. Afterwards, they said goodbye to New Jersey, and moved into a one-bedroom house they bought in Fort Lauderdale, Florida.

It was more of an investment than a place where they stayed, because the circus was always touring the country. The circus arrived in every city in a precise order. The first train consisted of 22 cars loaded with tents and the workers to set them up.

The second train to arrive was even longer, with 28 cars holding canvas-men, ushers, and sideshow workers. The performers always arrived last in 19 sleeping cars. Felix and Laura had their names written on the wall above their sleeping space in the seventh car.

Felix became a beloved clown who appealed to children and parents alike.

He pushed poodles around in a baby carriage, rode a tiny bicycle, wore a squirting flower that he used on everyone, did acrobatic tricks, juggled everything from bowling pins to toasters, and interacted with the other clowns in funny skits.

One of the secrets of his success was that he was always working on his acts and thinking up new ones. Some days went by when Laura only saw him at bedtime. When they stayed in a city they sometimes got a hotel room for more privacy.

Other performers and their spouses (if they had one) did the same thing if they could afford to. Those who couldn’t afford to, lived in the sleeper cars and tents set up outside near the train.

It was late into their second touring season when Laura started having roving eyes. One of the acrobats, Luigi, considered himself a ladies man and quickly picked up on Laura’s friendly vibes.

It wasn’t long before the two were involved in an affair. Both took every opportunity to be together. She was married, and he wasn’t. They managed to hide their affair for several months before Felix found out.

His first reaction was to confront her about her adultery and ask why?

But as he thought about it the need for revenge grew stronger. Ever since he heard those two acrobats talking about their brother Luigi making time with one of the clowns wives, a hardness settled over his heart.

For the first time in his life he didn’t want to be laughed at.

He didn’t want to hear the gossip that was surely circulating throughout the circus. People were laughing at him because he was a cuckhold. Not because of one of his routines.

One day he saw the two of them together talking by the Tiger cage. He knew who Luigi was now. They held hands for a moment and then parted ways in opposite directions. Felix watched Luigi walk over to his brothers who started laughing when he said something.

Felix watched, just out of sight, behind stacked up bales of hay. An elephant trumpeted loudly, spinning him around in surprise. It’s keeper was bringing food. He walked back inside the big top, picked up some bowling pins, and began juggling them.

His anger was transforming to rage and threatening his sanity. His own thoughts disturbed him. All he could think about was getting the last laugh…

Luigi and Laura were talking about what to do about Felix. They wanted to declare their love to the world. But what was the best way to get him out of the picture? Divorce? Laura didn’t think she could stand the stigma and balked at the idea.

Hot-blooded Luigi brought up killing Felix one day after they were finished making love. Laura acted shocked, but something bad inside her considered the idea. The next time Luigi brought it up she asked, “How?”

A monster was stirring beneath Felix’s clown makeup. He looked in the mirror on his dresser and didn’t recognize the eyes that stared back at him. He sat the jar of black grease paint down. This look was unlike any other clown around.

They called it “Blackface” in vaudeville. He pulled on a wooly wig and looked at the transformation. Tonight was the night. He would settle with his unfaithful wife and her lover.

That same night, Luigi talked his brothers into murdering Felix. He convinced them it was a family thing that needed doing. When they left to look for him, Luigi hurried off to meet Laura at a pre-arranged spot across the railroad tracks in an old lineman’s shack.

Not far behind him, Felix stealthily followed with a knife he stole from the circus kitchen. All Luigi could think about was meeting up with Laura. He never heard Felix come up from behind him!

In a swift vicious stroke he cut Luigi’s throat! He gasped for air and blood bubbled up from his lips. His body teetered for a second then came crashing down on the rough gravel. Felix watched his body twitch in its death spasms and smiled beneath his blackface.

Laura asked the lion and tiger tamer, Victor, if the plan would work. Again. He was getting impatient with her. Being the third wheel in a love triangle is never easy. He assured her the police would be waiting for Luigi’s two brothers and would interrogate them.

Felix would be dead, and Luigi would be left out in the cold.

Victor was right. Luigi couldn’t get any colder than he was. He was wrong about Felix however, who came up behind him, and drew his knife cleanly across his throat!

#Asitstands.com #He who laughs..#Short #story #reddit #short story

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silverandarsenic-hcs · 4 years

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Ghost BC X Traveling Circus AU

Another long post, im not sorry. am i gonna put a Read More link on any of these? no not ever. I had this idea while texting Nyx the other day (same day when I called all of you very sexy for still being active on this blog even tho we don’t post nearly as much as we used to). I hope you enjoy this concept as much as I do. Aside from the Papas and Copia, the ghouls are in order of the show schedule.

Papa II: He’s the one who spends all his time alone before the show begins. He keeps his head clear, and has just one drink, and expects everyone else to organize themselves as due even when he isn’t watching. And they do. When he goes out to welcome the crowd into their space for the evening, and thank them for giving him their time for the evening, he doesn’t make eye contact with a single person. It’s not his style. He doesn’t want to make people feel comfortable, or relaxed. He wants them on their toes and that’s exactly where he’ll keep them until they get home that evening. During every act of the ghouls, II can be seen watching from the side of the ring, arms crossed, smoke a cigarette and looking vaguely displeased - though inside, he really is proud to see the ghouls do so wonderfully every night. It’s all for affect.

Papa III: Our dear boy is not only the ring master, but also director, producer, manager, talent wrangler, and resident yeller. He’s running around with an iced coffee in his hand, a headset half on his head, and a clipboard under his arm, screaming about costumes until the second it’s time for him to go. They do the same thing virtually every night, you’d think they’d finally be organized enough to do it without a mistake at least once, right? Wrong. Every night something goes wrong, and every night the girls come in clutch and fix it just before show time, and the evening is saved. When he goes out to the crowd, he’s slow, and seductive. He speaks only poignant words, and enunciates each of them so crisp the most simple of sounds sticks in your brain. The show is always 18+ when he’s the leader, and makes sure every member of the crowd knows exactly why. He introduces each ghoul before the show, and can be seen watching with a small smile on his face from just behind a curtain for every act.

Cardinal Copia: I imagine Dracopia is very similar to Ring Leader Copia, in style and in sheer Vibes. When he’s a the helm things are a little... darker. More mysterious. He keeps it PG so the shows won’t be marked 18+ most nights, but any kids that are in the crowd will definitely be having nightmares about the Copia in the Closet that evening (you’ve heard of Elf on the Shelf, now get ready for.....). It’s him who sets the tone for the whole show, and the ghouls will follow suit with their acts. He likes to take his time in the spotlight before the ghouls go on for the next two hours, but once he’s gone, you won’t see him until the very end.

Dewdrop: however obvious, he's the guy with the fire. He starts the show after the ring leader goes off stage - starts it with a bang. The lights go low in tent, and a small orange flame ignites in the center of the stage. Before anyone realizes, an entire ring of flames surrounds him, where he stands atop a pedestal, juggling burning balls, bowling pins, and for the finale, knives. The entire crowd wonders how it's possible that he isn't burning his hands, but the ghouls keep that secret to themselves. In his pocket is a small parcel of a certain special powder, that when thrown on to the fire turn it every color of the rainbow. Sometimes if he’s feeling particularly in the mood for a show, he’ll turn the flames into something bigger, and more powerful. Something else entirely. It’s a good thing the ghouls don’t speak, so when meeting people after the show he won’t have to explain how a phoenix made from nothing but flames flew over the crowd. During the finale, the final trick, Dew throws a sword to Swiss, who catches it and while it's still burning, slips the entire thing down his throat.

Swiss: The sword swallower. After Dew's act introduces him, he puts out the burning sword with a squirt of water from his bottle, and blows the steam from his nostrils - the crowd loses their mind. Like Dew's swords, he starts off the act with the smallest in his arsenal, going all the way up to custom crafted silver blades, proven sharp to the touch with the cut of a cloth he keeps in his back pocket. Every onlooker is shocked every time he removes the sword absolutely clean of blood - how does his body do that? where does it go? Is it a magic trick? Is it all fake? They’ll never know. Until he pulls one member from the crowd to test the sword for themselves. They run their finger horizontally across the blade and prove it is sharp. The finale for Swiss’s run of the attention is when the same crowd member has the opportunity to be the one to put that very sword inside of him. They never do it right - nervous, shaking hands, if the ghouls were human all of Swiss’s organs and arteries would have been shredded by now. But the human crowd doesn’t know that, and to Swiss, it’s only mildly uncomfortable.

Ghoulettes: They're the ones who keep the show going in between every act but Dew/Swiss. Walking around in their costumes, cracking whips, making the crowd cheer and getting them excited (and a little turned on.). There's a reason this show is 18+ most nights. Some have even said they were the best part of the show. They'll occasionally pick a member of the crowd and bring them into the ring, during their own show or one of the other ghoul's. It keeps them invested. And if they get embarrassed they'll be sure to have the crowd cheer wildly for it. I don’t even have to say anything except “the girls have whips” and i already know you're imagining something better than I could ever put into words. That’s a W in my books.

Rain: Our water ghoul wows the crowd with feats of his own, no tricks, or ghoul power, or props needed. Well, maybe a little ghoul powers. After the ghoulettes return backstage, from the top of the tent descends glorious streams of blue silk, a hanging ariel ring, and a couple trapeze bars. Swiss sticks around for this part - throwing Rain up high into the air when he needs to, and catching him if he needs to be caught, but mostly just because he likes to watch this part of the slow as close as possible. The lights dim again, and Rain climbs up on the silks, amazing the crowd with merely a shred of his strength and flexibility. But everyone is absolutely silent for this part, transfixed on what’s before them. From the silks, Rain climbs up and grips the ariel bar, quickly flipping himself up to sit very pretty in the center of it. It’s a sight to see, the ring spinning slowly while Rain climbs elegantly through it, balancing himself on his hands alone. Not a single one of his movements disturbs the painfully slow rotation. From there he drops down to the ground, caught swiftly by Swiss, who then tosses him up so high into air the crowd questions if it’s really humanly possible to be that strong. Rain swings around on the trapeze bars with fluid ease, and when he finally drops down and lands on his feet, he takes a modest but confident bow.

Aether: Our leader ghoul is the animal tamer - he is used to it by now. Lions, bears, no matter what animal you give him he'll have it quickly under control. He does carry a whip, but doesn't use it for the sake of the animals, it is just for affect. The animals are incredible trained to make it look like they’re dangerous, vicious creatures, but backstage it’s not uncommon to find Aether hanging out with a tiger cub they rescued during one of their stops. He’ll make people laugh with silly physical expressions, and having the animals do fun tricks, and bring down members of the crowd to play a game with the animal. He, nonverbally, assures them that the animal won’t hurt them, and ushers them on to pet the great black bear in front of them. It usually goes well, but sometimes the bear isn’t in a great mood that night, so when Aether pulls the person out of harms way at the last second, he just looks that much better and braver. In that case, he’ll let whoever screamed the loudest have a moment to snuggle with the tuger cub. (look I know circuses don’t have animals like this anymore because animal cruelty and animal cruelty sucks. I get that do not come for me this is not real)

Mountain: The brute of the bunch. He does the most, which is why they save him for the very last. Whether he’s driving a dirt bike in circles every which way inside a small steel sphere, lifting incredible weights, or using his own strength to bed the steel of the cage he rode in, the crowd loves him. He’ll go into the stands and lift an entire bench full of grown men if he pleases. He’ll play to the girls, and lift two of them over his shoulders with only one hand on their bottoms with absolute ease - and they always swoon over him. How could you not, looking at those biceps nearly bursting through his button down. It’s a sight to see. And at the end of the show, when Mountain is done trying to pick up anyone he finds attractive, the rest of the ghouls and the ring master will come out and take a big bow while everyone cheers. With a final speech and a big thank you from Copia or one of the Papas, the lights will dim for the last time, and the show is over.

- Kat

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minsyal · 5 years

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[Mutual Feelings Pt. 13, Revali x Reader]

Author’s Note: I ain’t sorry.

Summary: Who knows? We can only go up from here, right?

“No.” You called out to whoever was knocking. The knocking persisted despite you barricading the door with stacks of books and unused chairs that had been left in the hall days prior. Ink dribbled across your desk, large blobs of black liquid obscured your old workpapers that were now crumbled and torn. They didn’t matter anymore.

The old book given to you laid open on the board in front of you. Its pages were tattered and picked at, ripping slightly at every seam and corner. It had to be in here somewhere. Keumi had passed a few weeks ago and you hadn’t bothered to return to the Village as facing Seoi was something you had no desire to do. The least you could do for her was stay away. Afterall, that is what she wanted.

“Open up!” It was a male’s voice, Revali. He had been visiting often after the incident. The majority of the time, he was already on the grounds for Champion-related events and had found your room at the direction of a few gossiping maids. The talk had taken an upward spike in the castle after your return. Very few would stop you, but those that would always asked about your relations to Revali. It wasn’t any of their business. Plus, nothing was official. Nothing was going on.

“No.” You repeated with the same monotone sound.

“Then I’ll break the door down.” The door began shaking, almost comically. The hinges creaked and squeaked as the handle juggled this way and that as the assailant attempted to grant himself entrance. The nob turned and stopped, then turned the other direction. “Excuse me?” He must be speaking to someone outside. His voice became muffled as you assumed he walked away, possibly giving up. You should have known him better than that by now.

You traced the map in front of you, a small line linking your route in the desert to the other locations of materials you gathered for the elixir. Everything had been done exactly to the “t” as per the book’s instructions. How could it have gone so horribly wrong? You had been trying to contact this supposed “medicine man,” but each and every Zora you spoke to couldn’t identify where he resided nor where he was currently. The bowl the elixir had been made in was encased in glass in the corner of your room. The cage you used in the desert was next to it. Maybe you had miscalculated something there? Perhaps the material used to encase the flower was incorrect… or maybe there wasn’t enough water flow.

Shaking your leg at a swift pace, you studied the excess materials. The minerals were all fine, they were typical ones used in medicine. The greenery was fresh when used, now dried and pinned to the wall. You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut to ward off the third headache of the day. It wasn’t even lunch yet, just past breakfast in fact.

“I hope you don’t me letting myself in.” Revali stepped through your window, a gust of wind swirling the loose papers around the room.

“Revali!” You rose to your feet, jumping to grasp every paper. He paid no mind, trotting over to the unmade bed where he sat down and crossed one leg over the other. His eyes scanned the room, he had never been in here before. Your desk was a mess, stacked high with new books and papers while older ones were stacked in front of the door. The bed he was sat on was inlaid into the wall, a few trinkets were posted and sat on shelves. He noticed the drawing of him you had done around the time the two of you first met, the extensive studies on the Divine Beasts, and the group photo you had been left out of at the time.

“Good to see you too.” He chuckled, making himself comfortable. “When did you last sleep?”

Too homed in on your work, you brushed him off.

“When did you last eat?” Persisting, he kicked one leg over the other and continued ruffling up your blankets. “When are you going to answer your lover?”

Eyes wide, you shot him a confused look only to get a proud one in return. He gave you a tight-lipped grin, closing his eyes. “We aren’t together.”

“The castle gossip travels fast. According to everyone out there, we are.”

“Well, we aren’t.” You turned back around and focused on a small passage hand-written in the book.

“Whatever you say, but that’s not my opinion on it.” He hummed. “Clear this out from your door while I’m away. I’ll be back.” He motioned to the junk near the door. Kicking some stuff from his path, he pried the door open and left.

While there is currently no evidence of the ability for revival from death, it has been recorded in legend regarding the Goddess Hylia and the Hero. Given this knowledge, there is chance that this phenomena is existent in Hyrule. Mouthing the words as you read, you groaned. There was nothing telling you what to do. You had been attempting to find a way to bring her back since you got back to the castle after her death. Nothing was turning up.

The attacks on travelers and villages rose as the Calamity’s power grew. Red ash would rise from the ground some nights, the clouds would rush as if in a hurricane, and low growls could be heard echoing from the castle’s depths. The moon would turn blood red on nights like these. Nobody would go out.

Another ceremony was scheduled for tonight, but you had no intent of attending. The King had never required you be present for any of them, only present when he needed updated information on how the scientist’s research was coming. You hadn’t heard from Purah or Robbie in a few weeks. It was hard to when they didn’t live on castle grounds.

The book turned up no trails to follow, no leads to take. Tossing it aside, you scrapped everything on your desk relating to Keumi. It was over. She wasn’t coming back. Throwing your window open, you let the cool air flow in and swirl around the cramped room. Laughter resonated from the upper levels; the stomping of feet signaled they had just begun their celebrations. The rich aromas of mouth-watering dishes were swept through the air, a sweet smell blanketing the area.

With a renewed sense of direction, you grabbed everything you had relating to your updates on the Divine Beasts. Opening the book you kept on Medoh, you began writing. In the margin, you wrote: Resurrection = possibility?

Revali wandered the halls as he attempted to recall his way to your room through the maze of sprawling entryways. He passed kitchen staff carrying platters of steaming-hot foods. Snatching a plate from one of them, he continued on his way. Finally arriving at his destination, he tried the door. To his surprise, it gave way with ease.

“Still buried in work, I see.” He looked more put together than he typically did. A new garb was wrapped around his figure, dawning the blue color of royalty and the crest. His old one was hidden beneath it. It was far gaudier than his original. Gold speckled the trim, thin silver chains were attached to shoulder pieces, and his braids were done differently.

“Here.” The plate clacked against the wood of your desk. “Now, I need to get this off. It’s rather…” he racked his head for the words he wanted, “not me.”

Metal clinks rained down upon the room as his shoulder pieces and the new garb landed in a pile along with your discarded work. A plate clanked against your desk, its smell alluring. Tearing your focus from your papers, you eyed the plate. It was steaming. A perfectly grilled pork steak sat on wild greens with a side of rice from Hateno. The smaller plate held a slice of decadently rich chocolate cake that looked to have been prepared just minutes ago. Caramelized sugar dripped over the sides, gliding down to the chocolate shell below.

“Would you mind undoing these?” His braids whipped around in your face as he turned his back to you. “I would, but I don’t want to.” He continued speaking as you moved to detangle the intricate designs. “You know, the ceremony was as dull as ever. I had searched the crowd for you, but I suppose expecting you to breach these walls was rather idiotic of me.” He tossed his head to the side, eyeing you. “Have you had enough tea lately? Have your teeth gone yellow yet?” When you didn’t respond, he continued on. “I do really think you need to rest more. Your lack of sleep is troublesome.”

“I’m fine.” You finished the last braid, leaving the ribbon strewn into it on the floor.

“You’re not. You need sleep…” he pondered for a moment, taking a deep breath before stating, “Keumi would want that.”

The beating of your heart thrummed in your chest loudly. Your breathing stopped, catching in your throat, suffocating you. A cold sweat broke out upon your brow and at the nape of your neck. Your determination turned to anger as you pushed yourself up to your desk, turning your back on Revali. “Don’t talk about her.”

“It’s what she would have wanted, and you know that.” He approached the back of your chair, the heat radiating from his body only adding to how uncomfortable you had become. Your leg bounced up and down as you attempted to work out the tension that grew within you. It felt as if vines were climbing up your spine.

“Revali, stop.”

“No.” A firm grip held your shoulder as he attempted to tug you around to face him. “Face me and listen. She didn’t die so you could sulk around here all day.”

You had enough. Pushing up from your chair, you disregarded it as it went tumbling to the floor. “Shut up!” More than anything you wanted to slap him. You wanted him to go away and never come back. Why was he here anyway? What did he really care?

“You need to listen to me. Quit acting like a child. That will get you nowhere.”

“She wouldn’t have died if I hadn’t tried something so risky!” You jerked your shoulder away from his grasp and immediately began gathering a few notebooks in your arms.

“You did what you had to!” He said firmly, stepping to block your exit.

“I did something stupid and I ruined a family.” You choked back the tears that were brimming your eyes. “They’ll never get that back, Revali. It’s all my fault.” You had grown considerably quiet, almost whispering.

“It’s not.” His tone had weakened a bit, his stance was softer. “Come here.”

Crashing into his arms was more comforting than you had expected. He rubbed circles into your back as he walked the two of you over to the bed. “We’re going to fix this.”

“How?” Your words were muffled by his thick coat.

___________________________________________________________

“Excuse me?” An unfamiliar voice called as the door creaked open. Revali’s head rose from his spot on the bed.

“Yes?” He called back, keeping his tone hushed. A gentle wing covered your head, stroking your hair down. The motion coaxed soft snores from you and put a loving smile on his face.

“The King requests your presence in the dining hall, sir.”

“Give the King my deepest apologies, but I have to decline.” A moment passed as the guard pondered what to do. He was taken aback by Revali’s answer, expecting him to join him in an instant.

“Of course.”

The door closed as a hushed silence fell upon the room once more. It had grown dark in the castle, the only light in your room came from the candles that threatened to extinguish themselves in the melted wax below. The papers remained scattered across the floor along with the chair that was still overturned. The meal he had brought had grown cold, hardening with each passing hour. But none of that mattered.

What mattered was what lay softly upon his chest, breathing deeply as exhaustion finally gave in. What mattered was the little moments that prospered from your twisted and tangled history. What mattered was the way Revali’s chest swelled when he thought of you and how his heart grew as he finally admit something to himself. It was true.

#revali x reader #revali imagine #botw #revali botw #botw fanfic #loz botw #mutual feelings

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beanzybrandon · 5 years

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stressed

• the life of an idol was not an easy one. there was never enough time in the day, and maintaining relationships was harder than juggling flaming bowling pins. • though this much was true, caleb was hellbent on making sure that the relationship he shared with you was one that would last. • the two of you had met a few summers back and had immediately hit it off, becoming best friends as quickly as any two could. you balanced each other out, and come the end of the year, the two of you began to date • the rest was history, really. you got along well and not much seemed to change when the two of you made it official, except for the fact that you were now kissing and had pet names attached to all the time you spent with one another. • the two of you were steadfast, even in the wake of the formation of prettymuch. in fact, you got along well with the rest of boys and they had prettymuch (sksks) laid claim to you as well. the six of you had grown into your own little family, and as time progressed, the bond all of you shared did nothing more than strengthen. • it wasn't until the group began to take off that things seemed to be on the decline. • you had been there with them from the beginning, watching as they practiced their art. you were with them through every studio session, watching as they poured their blood, sweat, and tears into something they could be proud of. something that their fans would love. you laughed with them, cried with them, were their main supporter when it seemed as though all was for naught and they'd never take off. • and now things were taking a turn for the best and it seemed as though they were finally getting the recognition and love they deserved. this made you happier than you knew possible, but the stress that fell upon their shoulder bore down on yours as well. • you had recently started your classes for the semester and was seeing less of caleb than you would have liked. he promised you that this was fine and pushed you to focus on your schooling, noting how hard you had worked to get there and how it would all pay off in the end. "besides," he had murmured in response to the soft whine and the delicate pout you offered him. "we can always hang out in your downtime." • this worked well enough until management had announced they boys would be going on tour and the crunch to get new material out began. • producing an entire mini album with the combined efforts of five people (sometimes more if some of their other friends offered to help with the process) was difficult enough as is, but the time constraint they were working under made things that much harder • and left you even less time to spend with your boyfriend • when you weren't busy, he was, and when was able to procure the smallest bit of time to spend with you, you were off somewhere else, doing homework or studying for upcoming exams. the strain this put on your relationship was undeniable, and the rift that had formed between the two of you seemed to do nothing more than grow as the months ticked by. • finals were fast approaching, as was their tour, and the two of you hadn't been able to spend some quality time together in weeks. the times you were together were awkward and left you feeling like a stranger who had walked into something they were better off not seeing. if this wasn't the case, things were strained and tight and the two of you were heaving passive aggressive comments and sharp jabs at one another over the smallest of things • knowing that your relationship had taken this type of turn hurt you deeply, and you could see that it was affecting him as well, but it seemed as if there was nothing that could be done. stress was killer, and both of you were fighting a losing battle with it. it was hard to see eye to eye and work with each other to fight it when your struggles were so different and you felt as if you had to handle things alone, had to keep the other at a distance so the issues you were facing wouldn't add on to what was already on their plate. • it was a vicious cycle that continued until you felt as if you were tearing apart at the seams • you began your finals about a week before the boys were scheduled to leave, and the notion that your lover would be leaving you on such rocky terms did not sit well. knowing that you very well might not be able to see him and remedy things before he left broke your heart and left you worrying if things would be the same when he returned of if those months in which the two of you were separated would make things worse than they already were • so you called him • given the hour, you didn't expect him to answer. from what you were able to gather, things had slowed down a bit and you figured he would be using this bit of time to rest and recoup before the chaos picked up again • the sound of his voice - which was a bit deeper and more gravelly than usual, evidence that he had just awoken - on the other end of the line came as a surprise. it was a truly gratifying one, but you found yourself breaking. the thin threads that had been holding you together all this time finally snapped, leaving you exposed. before you could register what was happening, your eyes were filling with tears and you were letting out a shaky whisper of his name • "baby?" he'd ask, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "baby, what's wrong?" • through your tears, you'd manage a soft "please, caleb, I need you." • he'd be out of bed before you could finish your sentence, hastily throwing on his hoodie and a pair of shoes before rushing out of the house • he made it to your house in record time, banging on your door before you had fully realized that he had hung up and was, in fact, making his way over • the moment you opened the door, he pulled you into his arms and you melted into his embrace, face burying itself in his chest are your arms wound themselves tightly around his torso. the tears that spilled from your eyes were caught and absorbed by his hoodie, turning the light grey fabric three shades darker • he swayed, one of his hands moving to stroke your hair as he murmured sweet things into your ear • when you finally calmed and his hold on you had been loosened, you took a step back. he gingerly cupped your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks and wiping the remnants of your tears away • "what's wrong, angel?" he'd murmur • "everything." • his arms would curl themselves around your being once more but, rather than pull you into his chest, he'd gather you up and carry you off to your room. after gently setting you done on the bed, he'd kick off his shoes and crawl in beside you. before he had the chance to properly situate himself, you were pressing close again, finding comfort in the warmth that rolled off of him. he'd accept this without issue, resting his chin on the top of your head • "I'm sorry," you'd murmur after a few minutes of sitting in silence • "I am too," he'd answer, voice soft • "for everything. I shouldn't have treated you the way I did." • "I can definitely say the same." • "no, but-" he'd stop you before you could finish, cupping your face and tilting it so that your eyes met. • "baby, it's fine. I'm just as much at blame, if not more so." • "I shouldn't have said the things I did," you pressed, alluding to some of the encounters the two of you shared in the past. • "I shouldn't have either," answered, doing his best to show you that the guilt for all that had transpired was not for you to bear alone. he had acted just as irrationally and wanted to take responsibility for his actions • his thumbs would brush themselves over your cheekbones, the corners of his lips tugging upward into a soft, reassuring smile. "please believe me when I say you have nothing to apologize for. things have been absolute hell and you don't have to say sorry for the things that came out of that, for the stuff that came out of stress and frustration. I know you didn't mean it, and neither did i." • you'd simply nod in response, the lump in your throat preventing you from saying anything more. you'd press yourself closer, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. the two of you would lay like that for what felt like hours, until the tense air that hung over the two of you dissipated and all that was left was the comfortable silence in which you usually shared. • after you had calmed and tears were no longer flowing down your cheeks, you sat up and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, simply stating that you were going to go fix yourself a cup of tea. when you slipped out of bed and made your way out of the room, caleb followed closely after, a blanket wrapped securely around his shoulders. • as you prepped everything, caleb was right behind you, arms winding themselves around your waist or lips finding purchase on whatever exposed skin he could find • after the tea had been prepped, you grabbed the cups and started for the back door. yet again, caleb followed, holding the door open for you. he followed you outside and the two of you found purchase on the grass, soft blades tickling your calves and the bottom of your feet. • you handed caleb one of the teacups, which he carefully set aside. he inched closer, opening the blanket. you pressed into his side and he wrapped the loose end around your shoulders, smiling brightly when you took hold of the edge and pulled it close. after the two of you had gotten comfortable, he retrieved his cup from where it rested, taking a tentative sip of the still piping beverage. you couldn't help but laugh at the face he made when he burned the tip of his tongue. the sound of your giggle was melodic and made him smile • the remainder of the night was spent talking, simply enjoying one another's company as you gazed up at the sky. it wasn't until exhaustion sunk its claws into your being that the two of you trekked back inside and went to bed, holding each other close as you slept

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potatogratins · 5 years

Text

As the Sun Sets, the Darkness Rises

[Fionn Whitehead x Reader]

Published | April 16, 2019

Words | 2,689

Warning(s) | None

SUMMER IS NEARLY ENDING and you want to hang out with Fionn one last time before you two would go separate ways. The two of you plan your trip and decide to go to the beach together. After all the ice cream, the balloons, the philosophy, and the sunset, there is only one thing left in the itinerary. But it’s up to you whether you want to check that off or not.

You watched as time was slipping on your fingers. You distinctly remembered when you met him on the beach–skin burnt to the bone, hair sunken in the sand, the patience of such natural decorum, and that glittering of a smile–and now you were deciding what path you should be a master of prior to going separate ways. He decided to pursue acting–a passion that he’s been going on and on since you were children–while you chose to pursue photography; but you desired to be near your family, forcing you to watch Fionn leave you and to be left instead. As a means of farewell, you invited him to a beach trip.

“Why don’t we buy something from the ice cream shop first and then…” you explained him, “And then we go to the souvenir shop last?"

Fionn focused on his driving, though still muttering and nodding in agreement. Meanwhile, you had your maps and notes hand in hand, feet on the dashboard, and ankles locked. Old tunes would play under the atmosphere and if it were catchy, you’d open your window, stretch your arms, and swing your hands upon being castigated by Fionn for you had been awfully audacious.

"So here’s our itinerary. First, we line up to get ice cream and buy the balloons–”

“Why on Earth would we buy balloons?” he interrupted, knitting his eyebrows.

“Because it’s my money and I can do whatever I want with it,” you scoffed, “So. Here is our final itinerary. First, we line up to get ice cream–”

“Is the ice cream even delicious?” he stopped you, causing you to huff.

“Of course, darling. No doubt of it,” you looked back at your list and cleared your throat, “As I was saying, our itinerary for this afternoon. First, we line up to try the ice cream from Hadley’s Best. When we get the ice cream, we’ll pick a spot to sit on, preferably on the sand, but any of the seats on the dock will do–”

“But then–” he tried to intervene but you hadn’t hoped to entertain any questions.

“We swim and sculpt sand castles. We’ll stay until the sun sets,” and with that, the young man beamed and shook his head.

1. Buy ice cream from Hadley’s Best.

Once Fionn parked the car, you bounced enthusiastically as you waited for him. He was searching for something. After a minute, he finally came out (your entire body was already fried by the sun) and dragged him someplace under the shade. He took out a map of the entire dock and pointed to you the places that you had in the itinerary. He then led the way to Hadley’s Best while holding your hand and you tried your best to not freak out. You gave him a nervous smile and he held your hands even tighter as both of you ran your way to the ice cream parlor. When you saw the view, you were reluctant to get a picture of him.

“Fionn, look at me for a second…please?” you whined. He laughed like a hyena and sprinted in circles, not giving you the convenience to take a picture of him. You sighed as you stomped your feet and crossed your arms.

“Fine! Fine! I’ll let you take one,” this time, he was grumpy one while you were jaunty. He stood in front of you, sticking his tongue out and crossing his eyes. You laughed at him and playfully hit him before you positioned him on a good angle and took the picture. He held on to that face for a few minutes, causing him to loudly sigh and tap his feet.

“Can we buy ice cream now?” he begged then linked his arms with yours all the while you lined up for the ice cream. During the wait, you took more pictures: a child running around the dock, a bundle of balloons, a man juggling bowling pins, and so forth. As it may be, you took a boundless amount, but you were jovial. When he bought one for you and one for him, you resisted but got another photo of him.

“This is marvelous…the texture is soft, not too chunky–here, try some,” he gave you the other ice cream then you licked it to taste it for yourself. You yelped and told him:

“It’s not just marvelous, it’s heavenly.”

2. Pick the perfect spot.

“What about this spot?” Fionn suggested, “This part isn’t scorching. Not a plentiful go this way, too.

You concurred and positioned the cloth all over the sand. You grinned, sat down next to him, and selfishly rested your head on his shoulders. Immediately, he asked, "Do you still recall the first time we met?”

“As always,” you sighed, “I was playing with one of the beach balls and I hit your head!”

“And I got upset for an entire hour–”

“And you started ignoring me for weeks!”

Your childhood was everything but a formality. The sole worry was the dictator of a King that you two had created in the back of your minds. Sword-fighting had ensued, dinners were celebrated, and mystic creatures were born. You and Fionn wore blankets to replicate capes, dress, or even as the decorum of a castle. As silly as you two were already were, you had started to read Shakespeare solely to learn–what you called–a fancy of a language. It was only you and Fionn, sitting on a throne and looking out at your people and kingdom like gods from the clouds descending to their creation to gaze at them. Yet those days have flown away, swords turned into rulers, dinners turned into excuses, and creatures had just disappeared.

Now, you were on the edge of transitioning from irresponsible, uncontrollable teenagers to stable adults. You have to keep your head up high and to shun all possible dangers as it was a sign of growing up. The existence such as yourself was already an impediment you couldn’t shut out. You still weren’t so sure about what to do in life, at least Fionn was all set.

“Will you remember me when all of this is over?” you engendered into a state of sobriety as you watched the people pass by.

He construed your words as if you were ambivalent, “Of course I would, what kind of question is that?”

“You’d say that to comfort me, but deep inside, would you really remember me?” then you turned to look at him, “You’ll be out there in stages with blinking lights and following eyes. You’ll watch the curtains go down as the world finally begins to make sense to you. Certainly, it won’t be the smoothest ride–but the risks you’ll take might be worth forgetting the things back at home.”

And because of that, he held your hand gently and gave it a small kiss. Not a kiss to ask of your love, but to assure of it, “I promise I won’t. Because no matter how far I’ll go and how many people I’ll meet, it’s the ones at home that made you who you are. And it would be dubious to forget them.”

3. Go swimming.

“Don’t you want to take a dip into the water?” you asked him as you stood up and took your hand out for him to take it. He gladly took yours and raced with you all the way to the water. You stopped yourself for a second before you felt someone push you into the water and the water splashed your face then the rest of your body.

“Get back here, you idiot!” you shrieked as you attempted to pull him into the water. He pushed you into the water again, making you scream louder. Both of you laughed loudly that perhaps the entire beachside could hear you. As he gave you a moment and smiled at you, it was a chance to pull him into the water. And so you did.

It was moments like this that you wished that he didn’t have to leave. You relished every second with him and every minute. The words that came out of his mouth or the things that he did with you on that day suddenly gave meaning. And you knew what that meant: It was time for you to let go.

It would only take hours before you would have to tell him the truth.

4. Make a sandcastle.

When both of you were exhausted from the splashing and all that razzle-dazzle, the two of you dried yourselves and went back to your spot.

“I’m glad you came,” you exclaimed, “You didn’t have to push me into the water, though.”

“I wanted to make the trip worth it,” he smiled. Fionn took a chunk of sand and placed it on top of the flat part. He patted the sides and tried to make one tall cylinder. His facial expression was definitely game on– the eyebrows, the mouth, the hands, everything–which he kept until he finished the sand castle.

“Ta-da!” He held his head up high and pretended to show the sand castle in front of an audience. You clapped loudly and he bowed.

“May I present to you, the Whitehead palace.”

But his pride was cut short when half of the Whitehead Palace suddenly got cut in half. He cried like a baby as you continued to make fun of him, making baby faces and pouting time and time again. He sighed and broke into laughter too until he stopped and looked behind you.

He pointed, “Look, it’s the sunset.”

You turned around and watched the sunset. The birds flew gracefully on the horizon. Slowly, the sun began to paint the tranquil waters of the ocean. Everyone nearby watched the view, too. It seemed as if all the troubles in the world had halted for one moment. The sun waved at the world as it disappeared, treading lightly through the skies.

“Let’s get a picture together,” he said as he called you over and asked a friendly face to take a picture of the two of you.

5. Tell him that I love him.

On the way home, both of you were silent, scared of what the future holds between the two of you. In the back of your mind, you were still bargaining for him to stay with you. Now that you’ve thought of it, it looks like you might have cried a little. But Fionn continued to drive, trying to display the fact that he wasn’t paying attention at all. You sighed and looked at the window. What you had seen from the window this morning was now going backward.

Is that all? This is how the day would end? Both of you felt like saying something, but now all that came was hesitation. For every stop that they had, they tried to catch each other to speak of something, but it was as if the atmosphere had forbidden both of you. Stressed, you forced yourself to think of something else.

You reposed yourself until you woke up by the sidewalk of your home. Fionn picked up your backpack from the backseat and tossed it over to you and gave you a wink. He let you off, jokingly wanting to stay with you more but deep inside it was just as painful for him. You crouched down and kissed him by the forehead.

“I left something for you, by the way. Open it when you come home,” you told him.

“Okay, I promise.”

And with that, you patted the hood of his car, signaling him to go on. He sadly nodded to you and went ahead of you. The red, shiny car of his slowly disappeared and you observed it as the backlight went smaller and smaller and smaller…until darkness had encompassed your vision. You felt no tears in your eyes; for you have accepted everything that was to happen.

The drowsiness of your best friend could not stop his eagerness to read your letter. When he had arrived, the music of the night was stretching all over the house. He heard the snoring of his parents, the bug playing a symphony, and the silence that surrounded the place. He sat on one the couch, dying to know what you wanted to say in this piece of paper that you just had to make him wait until he came home. And so he read…

My best friend,

I promised myself to give all of these when we were going to part. All these letters that I’ve written to you in the past contained a partial truth, but now I am writing everything. Everything to you, for you.

During the first year of our friendship, I spent the whole year vying for your attention. I was enamored of you which you’ll probably realize now why I’d always long for your side. I begged my parents to call yours, in order for us to have playdates together. I profusely put that kind of effort in exchange for our friendship and frankly, to apologize for hitting your head the first time we met.

The more we were together, the more unstoppable we became. I suddenly put that thirst aside and I simply went out with you because I realized how a generous person you were, and how much kindness you deserved in your life. Knowing your plans in life, I knew had to support you because there were thousands of people who were dreaming for the same thing, and you would need more than talent, passion, and grit to surpass all of them: purpose.

We simply cannot live a life without it. Have you ever met a person who has maintained such a ridiculously wholesome life with no purpose? Never. Purpose does not have to be complicated, it can be simple and clean. The pursuit of purpose can be found within our dreams.

When we were children, we had vowed to follow our dreams. We had the will to work and work until our dreams turned into reality. If we were able to turn reality into dreams–blankets, pillows, curtains turned into a kind of 16th-century kingdom–then we will be able to transform dreams into reality. What you perceive as dreams as a child and what you perceive as reality as an adult can be combined. However, it is up to you on how to master the craft of unifying them.

The things that we see on the outside dictate what we see, but cannot dictate who we truly are. You cannot make the Earth point at you for we are the masters of our own fate. And that is why I write this letter to you: believe in your dreams and confide in yourself because at the end of the day, whatever goes in and out of your life is based on your own decisions.

I myself hate how we have to grow up sometimes. But that is how we live for another day. To live without pain is to dream in black and white. I hate to watch you go, living about with your own dreams and enjoying your life without me…

But now I have to let you go.

I love you with a heart that rocks within me. You have sheltered me with your grace. Everything about you–your kindness, your passion, your willingness, your loyalty, your patience–is something that I can never replace.

If the time comes that you need to come home and you think that your purpose has been served, I will always be here at home taking pictures, waiting for you.

Yours Truly,

Y/N Y/L/N.

Fionn sighed to himself, folded the letter, and kissed it before he decided to crash on the couch and take a nap. As he fell asleep, he felt the world embrace him and gave him the longest dream. In a different, far more distant place, a blue box sat on your table as it drowned in the moonlight, waiting to be opened. Attached to it was a tag that wrote, “Y/N, open this when the darkness sets and the sun rises. All my love, Fionn.”

Author’s Note | I wanted to make this as if it was incomplete–something that would describe the day that they would end up having. I hope it wasn’t too incomplete though. The blockquote is a bitch on my phone so hopefully, to any of the mobile users, the formatting isn’t too much. I wrote half of this when I was drunk so I had to edit this heavily before posting this 🙄Hope you all still enjoyed it though!

Also posted on AO3. (x)

#mine: fionn whitehead #fionn Whitehead #fionn whitehead x reader #fionn whitehead blurb #fionn whitehead imagine #fionn whitehead one shot #mine

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nomadmilk · 5 years

Text

Big Break (Peter Parker x F!Reader) - PART 6

Summary: It’s difficult working as CEO of Stark Industries, even if it was temporary. Stress has gotten the better of you, and so has Parker’s. Together, somehow, you guys find a way to escape your busy work lives.

Total Word Count: 10838 (Split into parts).

RATING: T+

Warnings: Not that I can think of... Erm. Swearing.

Author’s Note: *squeals for Endgame but also cries cause’ of suffering for dissertation and work... or it could be just a mixture of every emotion...*. Almost done 😁😁 I’m glad I completed another story. Thank you & enjoy!! ☺️

So you came to terms that you had a massive crush on Peter. And, it wasn’t just any school girl, high school crush, sort of thing. You love and enjoy his company, he makes you happy, and all you wanted to do, is do the same in return.

And, he wanted to kiss you… He really wanted to kiss you.

Maybe he was too drunk, he probably doesn’t remember saying that to you. What were you supposed to say? Or how were you going to act around him? You should probably act as normal as possible. Be professional, be polite, and just be yourself, like you usually are around Peter.

It was easy to do so because today, you became the busiest person in New York. Pepper Potts contacted you this morning that she will be back in a week’s time, with part-time hours and full time responsibility. As for you, she had appointed you as head of the previous building; The Avengers’ Tower, with Tony’s blessing as well.

Not only did this mean you had to arrange your move into your new facility as soon as possible, but you had to make sure what you left behind wasn’t a mess for your boss. It wasn’t any different to your day-to-day work routine, it was just extra paperwork, extra agendas, and changes in priorities. It felt like juggling fire rings than it was regular bowling pins.

“… I want the place spotless…”

“… Anything from Mr Collins, cancel. We’re doing a press conference, anyway…”

“… Happy, could you please do the usual rounds?...”

Walking past Peter’s lab, you notice it empty. It was already the afternoon, and you hadn’t seen or heard from him since last night.

“Y/N!”

You pivot round to another man in a suit. “Yes? What is it now?” You’ve seen so many people in suits running around today.

“Um-“ he blinked, pointing frantically behind him. “There’s a situation – in the bathroom-“

Exasperated, you curse under your breath and stride past him, “Get the plumber, please.”

On the other side of New York, Peter Parker awoke with bleary eyes. He hears his Aunt May greet him something, and the smell of wheat cakes frying in a pan. He bolts up, the blanket falling off his shoulders and onto his lap. He glances to the table near him; a cup full of water, and another full of orange juice, stood together on the tabletop. A bowl was on the carpet, and it was empty. Peter’s head was fine, as there was no inkling of pain, or irritation that he can sense. On the other hand, he could feel his eyes dragging.

“Aunt May? What time is it?”

“It’s just gone 3. You were completely gone last night – I even smashed a plate by accident, and there was nothing from you..”

Peter reaches for the remote, switching the television on to the news. The news anchor was covering Pepper Stark’s return to her position. Rumour is that she’s been sighted near the Avenger’s compound.

“You know, Y/N, seems like a pretty nice girl.”

A picture of you showed on the screen; looking stern but confident, in your blazer and blouse.

“Yeah.” Peter says, replying to his Aunt with a beam growing on his face. “She’s great.”

With the thought of you, he whipped his head round. “May? She was here last night. What happened? The last thing I remember was talking, and, uh – I mean – When did she leave?”

Aunt May plates a stack of wheat cakes, drizzling it with maple syrup. She walks over to him, wheat cake stack and cutlery in hand, and setting them into his lap. “She left a little after I arrived.”

“I didn’t say anything stupid, did I?”

“Well, you tell me.” She sits on the other side of the couch, as Peter adjusts himself to sit. “By the time I got back, you were asleep.”

“May, did you talk to her-“

“Yes-“

“Nothing embarrassing?-“

“No! I didn’t take out the baby photos, if that’s what you’re asking. Y’know, if you really like this girl, she’s going to see it sooner or later…”

Peter began to cut slices off of the wheat cakes in front of him. They were big slices; he needed to head into the compound as soon as possible. As the news rolled onto the weather forecast, he’s partway through his late breakfast as he texts Happy to pick him up in half an hour. He responds shortly after, the message informing him that Happy is busy.

With one hand lifting the plate, he pulls the blanket off of him with the other, and rushes to the kitchen. “I gotta’ go. I’m sorry I just slept in the morning.”

“Oh, it’s okay.” May watches Peter run around and get ready. “I’m sorry for running late last night, but I’m glad you both had a nice evening together… Did anything-“

“No, May.” Peter quickly assures her. He’s hopping on one leg and putting a shoe on. “She’s not like that. And don’t worry about being late. We can meet another time this week to make up for it.”

May sees that he has his Spider-suit on. “Is Happy not taking you today?”

“Nope. Gotta’ make my own way there.” He says, opening the door. “Call you soon.”

People pointed at the figure swinging from building to building in the skies. The afternoon didn’t promise any rain, but Peter could still feel the wind rush scratch his cheeks a little through the suit. He swung past avenues, and sprinted across rooftops, finally nearing the compound. On his feet, he peers in the distance; a lot of cars were outside the building.

Peter did his best to approach the place without catching anyone’s attention. Luckily enough, his lab had a window he could open, and sneak into. Once he successfully got past security, and the cars, he reaches his lab window, pushing it open in a tilt. He is able to squeeze through. He rolls in, landing on his feet and removing his mask. He calls out for Karen, and the lab springs to life.

This action immediately alerts your clipboard. F.R.I.D.A.Y gives you details of the intruder, you expand the screen from where the security camera caught some footage.

You halt, seeing Peter in his suit, crawling through a window, and leaping into his lab. Where he briskly began removing his clothes. Before your blush could be visible, you pause a businessman requesting for additions to your speech, quickly swiping down the footage of Peter stripping, and paced away.

The doors of Peter’s lab opened for you. “Peter? What the hell are you-“

He hadn’t finished getting dressed; he was just about to put some black jeans on.

“Peter.” Your try to brush aside his physique. “There’s a press announcement for Stark Industries today. Tony is looking for you. What are you wearing?”

He clutched a shirt with a Space Invaders reference on it.

“No.” You say.

“It’s all I got.”

“Do you not have a suit? Like, a tie? A blazer?”

“I-I don’t think so.” He puts on the Space Invaders shirt.

He looks so goofy and nerdy. You take his hand. “How about in your room?”

“Uh. Maybe?”

“Alright.” You tug him to follow you, leaving the lab. His feet feel cold as his bare soles touch the floor. “The conference is short, but it’s in twenty minutes. Could you be in there in fifteen?”

Peter stands in front of his bedroom door, and once F.R.I.D.A.Y registers his body, it slides open. “Yeah. What is happening?”

“Pepper and Tony’s back from their leave. Mrs Stark is resuming her position here-“

“Okay. So, she’s announcing her return-“

“Yeah, and I’ve found out that I’ll be transferred back to central New York.”

Peter blinks. “You’re leaving?” He remembers flashes of the news and it’s headline this morning.

“Yeah.” You say. “I’ve been offered to be head of the new Avenger’s tower.”

“Oh?” He nods.

An air settles between the two of you. His lips part and his brow furrows slightly. He looks like he’s about to say something. The rush of the day suddenly dissipated and slowed as you stared at him. Peter clocks on the distance. It wasn’t so bad. He figured he could still visit you, and see you.

“I’m gonna’ miss seeing your face around here.” He says.

You simper. “I’m gonna’ miss you too.”

“Can I talk to you for two minutes? I know you have a busy schedule, I just want to talk to you about something.” He takes your hand into his own, walking backwards into his bedroom, and leading you this time round.

“Peter-“

“It’ll be quick, like a quick break.”

You look at his hands pulling you into his bedroom. You hear the door slide shut behind you, and his hands slip away from your grasp. He walks over to his wardrobe, and you take a seat on his bed.

#big #break #peter parker #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spiderman fic #tom holland #aunt may #happy hogan #fluff #mcu #marvel

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