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spacerockwriting · 8 months

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The Gallavich Disney Saga

Not done, but here are some Disney World bits from part 3 of my fic Soft Bitch. Thank you to all my lovelies who helped with the ideas. Almost every bit was used, or will be used. :)

Some notes: Franny goes by Finn. Idk what the fuck happened to Lip and Tami's other kid. Carl is chaos.

It takes a quick minute, but with Finn’s hair tied back into the usual ponytail, she beams, putting on a matching Hawaiian shirt, just like Mickey’s.

Ian comes out of the shower, q-tip in his ear. “God, there’s two of them.” He’s joking, but it still makes him laugh. Finn had insisted on wearing a matching one with Mickey, and Ian swears if she were to ever dye her hair black, she’d be a mini-Mick. Not so much in looks, but in personality.

“We’re here to wreck things up,” Finn says, grinning. She knows not to swear around the twins, especially with Ally being pretty repetitive. Around Ian and Mickey, she’s allowed, but not as much as they do.

Carl comes back from the bathrooms, staring straight at Finn and Mickey. “Shit,” he says, turning to Ian. “Aren’t gays supposed to be good at fashion and shit?”

Lip snorts, hiding his smirk.

“That’s a stereotype, Asshole,” Mickey snips. “Like cops supposedly being smart.”

“My waffles,” Finn says, rather dramatically. “You’re freaking them out by being gross.”

“Good job, Kid.” He plops the hat on Ally’s head. He looks down at Monnie and over at Ian. “If I’m getting a hat, so are you.”

“We should get matching ones,” Ian tells Mickey.

Mickey snorts. “That’s the gayest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“C’mon, Mick.”

“None of that girly shit.”

“Okay.”

“I pick ‘em out.”

“Okay,” Ian agrees.

...

“So now I’ve got two of these hats,” Mickey says, scowling. “And a dumbass husband.”

“Look at the festive family!” Tami says, finding Ian and Mickey in the shop. “You’ve got matching ones? I’m trying to get Lip to just get one.”

“So you’re that couple now,” Lip deadpans.

“I like my husband.”

“I think they were always that couple,” Liam adds.

“Hey Little Man, you look cool.” He holds his fist out to Ally who just blinks in confusion. “Think I’m going to get Toy Story so I can tell people I got a woody and that there’s a snake in my boot.”

Liam puts that hat back. “That’s one childhood movie that has now been ruined. “

“Can we get Uncle Lip a princess hat?” Finn smirks.

“Hell yeah we can.” Tami smirks.

“Uncle Lip’s my favorite princess,” Finn says, grinning at Mickey.

Out of what felt like nowhere, Carl emerges with Liam. Liam shakes his head. “I think driving with Carl is a deathwish.”

“Shit,” Mickeys says, adjusting his hat. “I think Finn’s got a knack for runaway cars.”

Lip gets out of line and shakes his head. “Drive with Fred. Won’t go above what, two miles?”

“Okay,” Ian says. He’s smirking. “C’mon, Lip,” Ian says, dragging his brother’s hand. “We’re going to go on the teacups until we puke.”

“Ian, are you fucking serious?”

“You promised.”

“I—“ Lip then starts laughing. “That fucking promise I made when I was what, seven? Eight?”

“So you do remember.”

Ian does not throw up, but Lip almost does. Laughing, Ian gives his brother a light nudge. “Worth it.”

Lip’s eyes soften just a bit. “Okay, yeah. It wasn’t as shit as I thought.” But in reality, seeing his little brother laugh like that was something Lip hadn’t seen in what felt like years. It probably was years, looking back on everything. Back before girls, and boys, and when they were LipandIan. Lip stands up on his toes to kiss his brother’s forehead.

“I’m gonna sit with my husband, is that okay?” Ian asks, and Finn sighs.

“If you kiss, you’ll scare away everybody.”

“Ten outta ten, would bang Snow White,” Carl says, when they get out the cart.

That's all the previews for now!

#gallavich #comet rambles

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incorrect-spiderson · 4 years

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41 and 42 with Ironfam for the Christmas prompts! ❤️💚

Mmmmfmfmfm so I was drinking hot chocolate and eating a candy cane while writing this so I was feeling super christmasy. Enjoy!!

🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄

It wasn’t that Peter didn’t like the snow. He loved it, actually. Pristine white powder that can make the entire world seem pure and perfect, even for just a little while. The freezing flakes that bring endless school days to a halt and are each unique in their own ways. Really, what was there to not like about snow?

Apparently the fact that it is very... very cold. That part isn’t fun, at all. Especially considering that, less than twenty-four hours ago, Tony had been digging out Peter’s near frozen body from a snow bank after a mission gone wrong.

Stupid evil snowmen.

That’s right folks. Thanks to his spidery-ness, he can’t thermoregulate. Which means he can’t withstand temperatures more extreme than normal. Which also means no more snow days.

Peter sighs and takes another small sip of his hot chocolate. He pulls the blanket up a little tighter around his shoulders and sinks into the couch. Leaning his head back, he closes his eyes to think.

The cabin is filled with the scent of hot chocolate and freshly baked cookies. He can hear Morgan and Tony yelling outside as they play in the snow. Tony is yelling at Gerald for some reason. Again.

Peter opens his eyes and sets the hot chocolate on the coffee table. He turns his gaze towards the kitchen and smiles.

Mom Pepper is making him soup (even though he said he was perfectly fine), probably chicken noodle. She reaches over the counter to grab something and when her hand meets air, she suddenly pauses. In an instant she blinks away her confusion and smiles. Normally there was a small tray full of candy canes and mints, just incase Pepper ever felt self-indulgent.

Pepper turns back to the soup and instead pops a jelly bean in her mouth. She bites her lip as she remembers she banned candy canes from the house ever since Peter ate one and then collapsed infront of them, seizing.

Yeah. Spiders don’t like peppermint either.

Peter burys his head between his knees and pulls the blanket even tighter around his shoulders. He’s a nuisance. He should be home with May, not intruding on this perfect family’s Christmas. Not sitting on their couch or drinking their hot chocolate, using their blanket, or even being in their house whatsoever. He doesn’t belong.

Though, it’s not like he has much of a choice.

May has been hospitalized ever since they snapped back into existence. People reappeared in the middle of construction sites, midair, and in tons of other dangerous situations that hadn’t been dangerous 5 years ago. Well, May had been searching the city for him and just happened to be crossing the street when she dusted.

Peter wipes away the forming tears and bites his lip. She has to get better. The doctor said she was lucky and could possibly be out of the hospital in February.

But.

She still hasn’t woken up from her coma. In reality Peter knows the doctor didn’t lie to him at the time. May had just gotten out of surgery when the doctor spoke with him. But Peter really, really wanted to be live she would be okay. And they could celebrate every holiday they’ve missed and everything would be fine.

But it might not be.

She might not wake up.

Ever.

So, Peter was stuck intruding. Stuck being a nuisance. The least he could do was stay out of their way while they-

“MORGAN STARK! Don’t you dare bring that snowball in the house, DON’T YOU DARE-”

Peter looks up when he hears Tony fall to the ground outside with an ‘oof!’. The door is suddenly thrown open and Morgan comes sprinting through in her snow gear. Before Peter can really register what’s happening, Morgan is jumping on top of him.

He catches the little girl mid-air, causing the blanket to fall off his shoulders. He sits his sister the girl on his lap but nearly drops her when his sweatpants get covered in now melting snow.

“Mo Mo, what are you doing in here? Last I checked, the snow is supposed to stay outside the house.” Morgan turns to him with a face of only pure betrayal. Her nose sncruches up and she pushes his shoulder.

“Petey you sound like daddy. I just wanted a juice pop! And they don’t make juice pops outside the house!”

Pepper suddenly peaks around the corner, eyeing the her daughter who tracked snow in the house. “Morgan Stark, it is the middle of winter. No juice pops until it’s at least above freezing outside.”

“But momma, juice pops are the best in the whole wide world!”

Pepper shakes her head and gives Peter a pleading look. Peter shifts Morgan on his legs and boops her nose. “Weird, I thought cookies were the bestest in the world?”

Morgan throws her head back in tantrum and sticks out her tongue. Regardless she turns to lean into Peter’s chest. He chooses to ignore the fact that his sweats are now soaked and his shirt is seconds from suffering the same fate. Instead he focuses on her wrapping her, now ungloved, hands around to his back. She sticks her freezing little hands in his shirt and bury’s her head into his chest.

Peter takes off her hat and rests his chin on her head as he rubs her back. “You cold Mo Mo?”

Morgan squeezes him tighter and mumbles out a “mhm”.

He reaches forward slightly and grabs his hot chocolate. “Hey, Mo, want some of my hot chocolate? It’ll get you nice and warm so you can go outside and hit daddy in the face with snowballs.”

Morgan lifts her head from his chest and lets go of his back to reach for the hot chocolate. She counts the marshmallows that haven’t melted and brings the warm liquid to her lips. Once she finishes the drink, she sighs and leans back onto Peter’s chest.

He watches as her eyes slowly grow heavier and heavier. She slips off her boots and curls completely into Peter’s lap. He takes the empty mug from her and gently sets it on the coffee table. Peter slips off her jacket and snow pants so she’s left in her pajamas from the morning.

Peter moves to get off the couch so he can set the the little girl down to sleep, but she instantly pulls back into his chest. She tiredly opens her eyes and whines. “Peter don’ go. You’ warm.”

Peter’s eyes widen and he lays back down on the couch. He moves Morgan on top of his chest and she instantly wraps herself around him. Peter smiles and grabs his previously forgotten blanket. “Here ya go Mo. Wrap up like a burrito and take a nap.”

Morgan takes the blanket? But instead of wrapping herself up she pulls it over the both of them. Then she burys her face into the side of Peter’s neck. “You gotta stay warm too bubba.”

At her words, Peter’s heart leaps in his chest. She considered him family. But why? He’s just a nuisance!

“Hey Mo Mo what do you-”

Peter quickly realizes the girl had dozed off. He pushes away any thoughts of doubt he’d had before and just pulls the little girl, no, his sister closer. He gives her a small kiss on the head and lightly rubs her back.

Suddenly, Tony comes stomping through the door. “Damnit Gerald! Can’t believe my Alpaca ate my glove. That little shit.”

Tony is covered nearly head to toe in snow and is wearing a half eaten glove. The man takes off his snow gear and moves into the kitchen. He snatches a cookie and gives Pepper a kiss. Without turning around, he calls out to Peter.

“Hey Pete.”

Peter looks to Morgan as she slightly shifts, then replies. “Yeah?”

Tony grabs a fresh cup of coffee but still doesn’t turn. “Should come outside and have a snowball fight with us.”

“Uhm right now isn’t the best time. I don’t really feel like-”

“Mhm cause you know you’re gonna lose huh.”

Peter rolls his eyes and pulls the blanket up a little more around Morgan’s shoulders. He catches Pepper smiling at them from the kitchen. He points to Tony and then makes the spins his finger by his head to show that ‘he’s crazy’.

Pepper gives a breathless laugh and nudges Tony. The man turns to his wife and finally catches sight of his children. Tony smiles and shakes his head. “Kid you are never getting her off you.”

Pet smiles, still rubbing the little girl’s back. “Y’know, that’s alright. That’s what big brothers are for, right?”

Tony suddenly feels a swell of pride in hearing that. Peter final considered himself part of the family. The man nods and stares at his kids.

“Sure is, buddy. Sure is.”

🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼

Bonus:

~Ten minutes later~

“HEY EVERYONE! Harley has arrived! Peter get your ass off the- ope never mind. Anyways.. shit do I smell cookies? Mom I swear if there’s raisins in them-”

Tony sighs. “Aaaand there’s kid number 3.”

🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄

Ahhh this was so fun!! Please send me more!! Also I’m down for some feedback.

#marvel #mcu #peter parker #avengers #tony stark #spiderman #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #avengers endgame #irondad #post endgame #cam writes #sikes writes #christmas prompts #ironfam #ironfam fic #marvel fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction

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acdeaky · 5 years

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five ways

john’s birthday week - part 7

warning: fluff, angst, dialogue heavy at parts, foul language

note: i hope you’ve enjoyed john’s special birthday week! i really enjoyed writing some of these in the past week (even though it was a little stressful!) thank you for all the support forever and always xoxo

word count: 2.6k

1. (1964)

“deaky, no!” you squealed as john chased you around the garden. it was summer, and after the big freeze of 1963, everyone was happy to finally be feeling some heat. it was the second day of the summer holidays for you both, and you were enjoying as much time together as possible.

“i’m gonna get you!” john called after you, trying to move his legs faster so he could catch up to you. your little legs were moving as fast as they could to get away from john (who had threatened to tickle you once he caught you). he knew how badly ticklish you were, so threatening tickles meant hell for you.

“deaky, i’m gonna trip!” you worried as you found yourself running down the cracked path towards the front of john’s house. it had been broken for years. john’s father had always made an example that he was going to fix it, but when he passed away suddenly, no one had the heart to fix it; it was like the path was one of the last things of john’s father.

“be careful then!” he chattered, laughing still as he seemed to be catching up with you. it wasn’t long until what you had feared came true. your entire body flew forward as your toe had just caught the edge of a tile. your knees scraped against the ground as your hands flew in front of you to prevent your head from hitting the hard concrete.

john stopped right beside you as you laid on the floor, your hair sticking to your tears and covering your face.

“Y/N!” he gasped, dropping to his knees to help you up. he grabbed under your arm and pulled you up as gently as he could. you managed to sit on your bottom, both of your legs stretched in front of you, scraped and bleeding. your hands were slightly marked, too, but they didn’t hurt as much as your knees did.

“i’ll go get my mum.” john fussed, his hand moving your hair out of your face and wiping your tears (which was quickly replaced by fresh ones). he jumped up, rushed inside and called his mother. lilian grabbed the first aid kit while john grabbed you some tissues. once they came outside, they kneeled on opposite sides of you, john near your head and lilian by your knees.

john’s mum was talking to you, but you couldn’t fully hear over your tears and the pain. a scraped knee wasn’t bad, but to you, it was the worst pain you’ve experienced in your young life. john sat and wiped your tears everytime they fell from your eyes as his mum cleaned your cuts, disinfected them and placed a plaster on each knee to stop the bleeding.

it took about five minutes and your tears, not your pain, had stopped. john and lilian helped you stand and held your hands as you hobbled into the house. they sat you down on the sofa, john sitting next to you and lilian going to get you both a cup of water and a snack. john wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you gently so you were leaning against his side.

your head resting against his shoulder as he rubbed your shoulder comfortingly. “are you okay, bug?”

“yeh, better now.” you nodded, smiling slightly at the nickname that had happened because you had a small fascination with a bug once. john turned his head slightly, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. your smile grew bigger slightly as you seemed to move closer to john (if that was even possible).

“you’re my best friend, bug.”

2. (1969)

“but do you have to go? you’ll be so far away.” you whined as john packed the car with his suitcases. it was late august and john was attended university, a whole two hours away from you.

“bug, it’s the best place for what i want to do. the uni is praised on its science and technology courses and i can’t miss out. i want to be the best electrical engineer there ever has been.” he placed himself on a podium as he lifted his last bag into the boot.

“you can be the best electrical engineer no matter where you go, deaks. you’re so smart and amazing at what you do already, it won’t matter what uni you’re at.”

“bug, please. i’m going, don’t make it any harder than it has to be.” he sighed facing you and holding your hands gently.

“i’m sorry, i’m just gonna miss you, that’s all. after ten years we won’t be neighbours anymore. you’ll be swanning around uni while i’m here working for another year.” you both laughed at that. john being a year older than you sometimes had its perks, but at times like this, a whole year seemed like a lifetime.

“i’m gonna miss you, too, love. i know it’ll be hard, but you can visit me on weekends or when you have time off work and i’ll be home every holiday, you’ll be wanting to get rid of me!”

“i’ll never want rid of you, deaky.” you smiled brightly, pulling him forwards and into your arms. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible. john did the same, but with his arms around your waist. your head he snuggled its way into his neck as he rested his chin on top of your shoulder.

“i’ll see you soon, bug. you’re my best friend.”

3. (1971)

“you made it!” john smiled widely as he saw you backstage. it was queen’s first ever gig as the four of them and you weren’t going to miss it for the world.

“of course i made it!” you replied, opening your arms as you walked towards john. he wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up and spinning you around. both of you giggled loudly, smiling wider than you have before.

john soon put you down, realising spinning equals being dizzy. he kept his body holding yours, pulling you impossibly closer to his body as he held you tightly. “i’ve missed you so much, bug.” he mumbled into your shoulder.

“i’ve missed you so much, too, deaky, but it’s only been a couple of months.”

“so i cant miss my best friend now, is that what you’re telling me?” he teased, his fingers beginning to dig into your sides.

“no, no! i was just saying- deaky, don’t!” he pressed harder. “john richard, i swear to god.” he laughed at your worry and your attempts at escaping his grasp.

the only reason you stopped was because a loud cough erupted behind you. you and john practically pushed yourselves away from each other, creating a distance you so desperately didn’t want.

you looked to see the band who john played with that night. what a great first impression.

“i see you’ve found your friend, deaky,” the short one with dark brown wavy hair said. “i’m freddie, darling. freddie mercury.” he stuck his hand out to shake yours. you were apprehensive at first, but john nudged your arm, encouraging you to shake freddie’s hand.

“and i’m brian may.” the tallest one with dark brown curly hair spoke, reaching his hand out to do the same.

“and i’m roger taylor, but you can call me tonight.” the shorter one with beautiful blond hair spoke, taking your hand and pressing a soft kiss on it.

“oh, come off it, rog. can’t you see she’s smitten with john?” freddie spoke, motioning to the closeness of you and john. you weren’t smitten with john. maybe you were, but you weren’t about to openly admit that.

“i’m not- there’s nothing- me and john-”

“we’re friends guys, best friends.”

4. (1975)

“thank god you’re here, bug,” john sighed, pulling you in to a tight hug as soon as you had walked on the bus. “i don’t know how much longer i could deal with those fuckers for.”

“deaky, it’s been two hours at the most!” you giggled, accepting the hug and pulling him closer to you.

“i know that, but they’ve already been... difficult.”

“in what way?” you asked, pulling away from his embrace, but keeping your hands on his shoulders.

“they- they’re just-,” his fingers fumbled around on your hips, pulling them closer to his own. “i- there’s, well there’s this girl-”

“oh.”

“what?” he noticed the quiver in your voice. “what? no, no, bug-”

“no, john, carry on. it’s okay. just tell me.” your hips were still joined together, but your hands hand slid down from his shoulders onto his biceps.

“okay, well, there’s this girl and i’ve known her for a while and when the boys mention her or i talk about her, i can’t help be blush and think about how beautiful she is.”

“oh, john.” there was nothing else you could think of to say. you let go of his arms, pulling yourself out of his grasp and away from him. his hand reached out to grab you, but you simply pushed him away.

“bug, listen-”

“john, please. don’t.”

“bug, it’s you. it’s always been you,” he grabbed your hand, but you still wouldn’t look at him. “it’s been you since i met you. Y/N, please. look at me.”

the desperation in his voice was something you couldn’t ignore. you turned your entire body back towards john, looking him directly in the eyes.

“it’s you. the girl i talk about, the girl i think about, the girl that makes me blush. it’s you.”

you pushed towards him, your arms wrapping themselves around john’s neck like they have done for years. his hands found your hips again, pushing your bodies closer together.

“i thought i was just your best friend?” your foreheads touching, lips ghosting over the other’s.

“always have, always will be my best friend, bug.”

5. (1977)

“ah!” freddie exclaimed, his arms opening to you as soon as you walked into their hospitality room. “we’ve been waiting for you, darling.” he brought you close to him, hugging you tightly.

“you only saw me the other week, fred,” you giggled, pulling away from him. “what’s so special about this time you’re seeing me?” the glint in his eye told you john was involved. if anything happened between you and john (or even if he just saw you and john together), freddie would get all happy and excited, the usual glint in his eyes brightening.

“ah, you see, this time john isn’t here so we have you all to ourselves!”

“very funny, fred. where’s john?” you playfully rolled your eyes and freddie gave you a knowing look.

“lover boy is on the stage.”

“i thought he had finishing rehearsing?” all freddie did was shake his head. you looked at brian and roger for any indication as to what was going on, but they gave away nothing. looking back at freddie, he had a beaming smile on his face.

“aren’t you going to find him?”

“you,” you pointed directly at freddie as you stood in the doorway, “are scaring me more than usual.” freddie simply laughed, his smile seemingly wider. with one last look at the three of them, you left the hospitality room, winding down corridor upon corridor to find your way to the stage.

it was dark when you arrived. none of the stage lights or arena lights were on, creating a daunting atmosphere.

“john!” you called out, quickly doubting if he was even there. no answer came, only a light. right in front of you, it was illuminating an area sprinkled with rose petals. as soon as you stepped into the light, it moved, revealing a long trail of petals and a few polaroid photos of you and john througout the years. each time you passed one, you picked it up, stopping periodically to remember the fond memory.

the trail continued, the light still guiding you on the stage. as soon as you reached the end, you saw a polaroid of you and john the previous week. it had been taken by freddie of the two of you saying goodbye for another few weeks. tears stained both of your cheeks while you smiled happily together. even though you were about to leave the other, the happiness was real, and you could vividly remember the teary goodbye.

as soon as you looked up from the polaroid, a couple more lights had been turned on, revealing john holding a bouquet of yellow roses, his hand nonchalantly in his pocket. you smiled widely when you saw him. he gave you a smile, as equally big, back.

“hi, love.” he said, shifting in his position slightly.

“hi, deaks.” you bit your lip, stopping your grin from growing too big.

“i- uh, th-these are for you.” he held out the bouquet, promoting you to move closer to him.

“thank you,” you smiled, taking the roses from him and smelling them. “they’re gorgeous, deaky.”

“Y/N,” john started, taking his hand out of his pocket and kneeling down, opening a black velvet box to reveal the mose beautiful silver and diamond ring you’ve ever seen, “ive waited my entire life for this moment. the day i met you, i knew you’d be in my life forever. and now i’m going to make sure that happens.” he chuckled, making you giggle, too.

“there hasn’t been a day where i haven’t loved you. even as a little eight year old boy, i loved you. i love you, still, but growing up with you was the greatest pleasure i’ve had, and i want to grow old with you, too. the time you scraped your knee on my old garden path, i knew i loved you. the time i left home for university, i knew i loved you. the time you met the boys and i said we were just friends, i knew i loved you. the time i asked you to be my girlfriend, i knew i loved you. i wanted to save so much for you, and i have. now, we can be happy together for the rest of our lives and i can learn to love you all over again.

“Y/N L/N, would you give me the greatest pleasure of becoming your husband? will you marry me?”

“oh, john,” you gasped, your hand covering your mouth as tears began to well in your eyes. “yes! yes, of course i’ll marry you!”

john immediately stood up from the ground, moving closer to you to close the gap. both of your hands were shaking as he pulled out the ring, sliding it on your left ring finger. short chuckles left both of your mouths as you stood in shock at what had just happened. as soon as he pushed the ring all the way down, you stretched out your hand, admiring the way the stone gleamed in the low light.

“it’s beautiful, baby.” you whispered, pressing your hand against your chest.

“not as beautiful as you, bug.” he replied in a whisper, pulling you tight against his body by your hips. your hands cupped his cheeks, bringing his lips down to meet yours. it was soft, full of love and passion. a kiss you’d never felt before. something new. something better than before.

“i love you.” he smiled against your lips, his hot breath fanning over you.

“and i love you, john.”

TAGLIST: @never-kept-the-same-address @j0hn-deaky @sohoneyspreadyourwings @brian-maybe-not @deakysbabybooty @1001-yellow-daffodils @retromusicsalad @hardcoredisneynerd @painkiller80 @leatherjacketmazzello @scarecrowmax @mebeatlized @seesiderendezvous @alright-mrfahrenheit @someone-get-a-medic @miamideacon @chlobo6 @teenagepeterpan @spacedust1124719 @deakysgurl

#john deacon #joe mazzello #joe mazzello fic #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello imagine #queen #john deacon fic #john deacon imagine #john deacon x reader #john richard deacon #johns birthday week #acdeaky

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harryandmolly · 5 years

Text

Ten Years - Part One

summary: ten years after 2007 Warped Tour, Shawn and Val come face to face in London

warnings: Language, that good yearning

WC: 3.3k

A/N: this is a post-epilogue miniseries of I Could Write It Better Than You Ever Felt It. I recommend you read that first or this will make you go 🤔

------------

Shawn has never felt further from his 19-year-old self than right now, squished into what has to be the world’s tiniest lift with Val and Alice and Alice’s very large, fancy pram.

The rickety lift slowly drags them up to the third floor of the old building. In the mirrored doors, Shawn watches them, saved from Val’s returning gaze as she focuses on making faces at her sleepy baby. Her back is pressed up against his chest. He can smell the achingly familiar citrus scent of her hair. But he can barely recognize the boy that ran away from this girl.

The lift stops with an alarming little jolt but Val looks unbothered. She hands the pram off to Shawn to steer while she fishes keys out of her purse. Shawn walks slowly, gazing down at Alice’s round and curious face. Who are you to be taking up my mommy’s attention? She seems to say. Shawn’s lower lip twitches. Who, indeed.

Val lets them into the dark flat. It’s roomier than Shawn expected, having seen the modest building from the outside. As Val flips on lights, Shawn’s hungry eyes suck in as much as they can, committing it to memory for further study.

The walls are a rich shade of deep, deep red. The furniture is modern but comfortable. There are bookshelves in every corner, packed full of fantasy, art texts and music biographies. He stumbles over a stuffed colorful caterpillar toy. It makes Val chuckle.

He looks up at her and watches as she drops her jacket onto a hanger and kicks her boots into a corner next to a teeny tiny pair of cleats that make him smile.

“Already got her on a club team?” he rasps, finding his voice has failed him slightly. Val graciously ignores it and glances over at the cleats.

“Aren’t those hilarious? Raf sent those for her a few weeks ago. They were his daughter’s when she was Alice’s size.”

Shawn smiles and tucks his hands into his jacket pockets, rocking back and forth. He’s gazing around, memorizing as casually as possible, when he feels her warmth again. He looks down to see her smirking up at him. He ducks his head and chuckles. There never was any hiding from Val.

“Wanna stay for dinner? I was going to order takeaway.”

He grins at her British -ism and bites into his lower lip, nodding at her fridge. “I can cook if you want.”

Val’s eyebrows lift. Shawn’s laugh is low and gravelly. His voice is still not working quite right. He thinks it’s prolonged exposure to her coming out of nowhere. He doesn’t really mind. She could always understand exactly what he was saying even when he was babbling helplessly, even when he wasn’t speaking at all.

“You can… cook?”

Shawn rolls his eyes and shucks off his jacket, placing it on the back of a barstool at her modest kitchen island.

“I did grow up a little in the last ten years,” he sighs, wandering into her kitchen curiously.

“I noticed.”

Shawn freezes almost comically. His hand is halfway to the fridge handle. He blinks and turns his head slightly to look at her. She’s wearing the smile that’s haunted him for ten years, the one that’s so signature Val -- it’s a dare and a promise all in one. He swallows so hard his throat visibly bobs.

She’s fucking flirting with him. And she doesn’t look like she did it accidentally.

His motor function comes back enough to open the refrigerator and look around, and also hope the cool air will reduce the pink burning in his cheeks. Val busies herself with freeing fussy Alice from the pram, holding her against her hip after shedding all her tiny little layers down to a pair of leggings and a long sleeved tee with the Arsenal FC logo on it.

Shawn studies the contents of the fridge. It doesn’t take long. He looks up at her, frowning disapprovingly.

“You don’t cook,” he says plainly.

Val snorts, which makes Alice wriggle against her chest.

“I don’t cook. Never have, never will. It horrifies my mother, who sends five pounds of frozen homemade empanadas every month packed with dry ice.”

Shawn groans and lets his head loll back. “Fuck, I love your mom’s empanadas.”

A moment later, his head snaps up. His eyes widen. He claps a hand over his mouth.

“I’m so sorry!” The sound is garbled against the skin of his hand. He removes it to Val’s amusement.

“Don’t worry,” Val hums, pressing her nose and lips up against Alice’s patch of dark hair above her little ear, “I swear around her all the fucking time. Don’t I, nina?”

Shawn grins and turns back to the fridge. With a sigh, he unloads a carton of old Waitrose eggs, some wilted spinach and a bag of shiitake mushrooms. He snuggles the ingredients into his arms and nudges the door shut with his foot, glancing at her reproachfully.

“Don’t judge me on this, it won’t be my best work. But I have limited resources.”

Val takes a deep, calming breath, watching him start to sort out a cutting board and a pathetically dull knife at her kitchen counter. Because Shawn Mendes is cooking her dinner.

It’s been a weird six hours.

Val props herself up on a stool, planting Alice in front of her, holding her by the waist so her floppy, energetic baby doesn’t squirm onto the floor. Alice also serves as an excellent shield between herself and the man in her kitchen she can’t stop staring at.

She listens to him chop and crack eggs and melt butter like making dinner for her is some kind of Food Network challenge. She tries to tamp down a goofy smile at the thought. Alice smacks her tiny palm against Val’s lips for her attention. She holds her daughter’s hand and mimes nibbling at her fingers, making Alice squeal with laughter. Val peeks over Alice’s shoulder to see Shawn grinning at a frying pan, expertly flipping an omelette. Val’s stomach flips with it.

“So,” Val coughs, “How’ve you found London so far?”

Shawn slides the omelette sizzling onto a plate and cracks pepper over the top. He slides it over to her with a fork, slinging a dish towel over his shoulder while he gets to work on the second. Val mouths thank you, sealing it with a wink as she lifts the baby into a high chair and pops open a can of mashed carrot and swede from the countertop.

“I love it,” Shawn murmurs, nodding, “I’ve always really liked it here. My mum has family here. I’m over here a lot for work.”

He slides his tongue over his lower lip, making the black enameled ring quiver as he thinks about the comment he left out -- he’s long been considering getting a place here. Many of his favorite producers are based out of London. He and the guys love working out here. Forefront has remained more popular in the UK after the scene faded in the US. It makes sense.

“And… how long are you staying?”

Val hopes the eagerness doesn’t cut too deeply into her voice. If Shawn notices, he’s mercifully cool about it.

“I’m leaving Thursday to go home for the holidays.”

Val’s jaw tightens. She straightens up and stares at Alice, watching as she takes a fist of Val’s hair and shoves it into her mouth instead of the spoon of food Val is offering.

“I’ll be back after New Years to write the new album. Gonna spend a few months here.”

Val’s stomach swoops. She jams the spoon into Alice’s cheek by accident, reaching for her bib to wipe the food away before Alice can protest.

“That’s nice,” Val replies airily.

Shawn plops into the stool next to her with his plate and eyes her as she takes one bite of her food and feeds her daughter with her other hand.

“Ever accidentally mixed up the spoons and eaten baby food by mistake?”

Val barks a laugh. “Happens like, once a week.”

Shawn, Val and Alice eat in comfortable silence. Shawn chews a little slower than usual because he knows he’s probably getting kicked out after dinner and he’s not really ready to let go of this just yet.

This.

What is this?

Shawn shakes the thought before it can sprout in his brain. He’s not going to freak out over this. This is fine. It’s dinner with an old friend and her baby. Nothing weird can happen with a baby around, right?

Val stands and scoops a squirming Alice out of her high chair, walking toward the nursery with a glance over her shoulder.

“I’m gonna get her changed and put her down for the night. Want to open that bottle of wine there?” She nods at a bottle of cabernet and Shawn’s eyes get a little brighter.

“Yeah,” he responds enthusiastically, nodding, “Good night, Alice!”

Val beams and flaps Alice’s little hand at him. “Night night, Shawn!”

When Val emerges twenty minutes later with the baby monitor, Shawn has the dishes cleaned and the wine breathing with two glasses out on the counter while he flips absently through his phone.

“I’m gonna get changed, too,” Val says softly, gesturing down at her leather pants and chewing on the inside of her lip, trying not to read too much into all the different cozy-cute outfit ideas in her head.

Before she can overthink it, she swaps out her urban mom chic look for clingy charcoal leggings and a black camisole with her favorite cable knit cardigan over top. She gives her hair a flip in the mirror and pinches some color into her cheeks.

You know, just because.

When she walks back into the living room, Shawn has the wine poured. She tips her glass against his and murmurs “cheers,” willfully ignoring the way Shawn is trying not to check her out.

They sit at the bar. Shawn watches Val cross her long, slender legs, her bare, black-lacquered toes glinting up at him. He hums a chuckle and sips his wine.

“What?” she giggles.

He nods at her. “You. Your black nail polish. Some things never change, I guess.”

The words feel heavy as soon as they leave him. It swirls around them, all that has changed, all that hasn’t.

It would be easy to look over at Val now and see a stranger. It’s been a full decade. The amount of life experience packed into the ten years between 22 and 32 could have made her an entirely different person. But Shawn’s been watching her, listening to her all day. She’s still Val.

It’s a comfort and a curse, he thinks. It’s not like he hasn’t wondered about her, about how much the years have changed all the things that drew him in. It hurt to think she was changing and he didn’t even know it, couldn’t see it. And now he knows just how… Val she still is.

This night won’t last forever, even if they did just open a nice bottle of wine. He’ll go back to the hotel, he’ll leave London. He’ll be stuck with knowing the woman he loved is still every bit as incredible as he remembers her. Hell, she got better. He can’t believe it, but Val Moreno got better with time.

He shakes his head and pushes a hand through his hair. “Wow,” he mutters.

Val takes a gulp from her glass and nods. “I’m kind of feeling that, too.”

“It’s just…” Shawn hisses, finally cracking with the help of the fine cabernet, “It’s been… ten fucking years.”

Val looks over at him. She’s silent for a few long, slow seconds.

“So tell me about them.”

Shawn looks at her as she stands and reaches for the bottle and her glass, heading for the couch.

“Didn’t we do that all afternoon?” he laughs, standing and ambling after her.

Hey moron, he thinks to himself, Do you really want to give her a reason to make you leave sooner than you have to?

To his relief, Val persists, swinging her legs up to fold beside her and patting the cushions. He settles in and continues sipping from his glass for courage.

“Well,” she starts, looking a bit uncertain as she gazes into her glass, “If your ten years has been anything like mine, you have a list of things you’ve been wanting to tell me, saving up for if we’d ever see each other again.”

Shawn’s fucking fingers tingle. She’s been making a list. For him.

He nods. “Y-yeah. I mean… yeah.”

Val smiles. It’s soft and encouraging. “Ok. I’ll start.”

Shawn’s heart softens its battering ram motion in his chest. He bobs his head.

“I was… so scared when I got pregnant with Alice. God, it was the most frightened I’ve ever been of anything. More scared than when I told Raf I was leaving Streets, even more scared than when I was pregnant with Rafael. Because I felt so ready this time. If she was taken from me… god, I swear to god, I held my breath the entire nine months with her. Even after she was born, I just stared at her. Like if I blinked, that would be it. She’d be gone. I think it’s only in the last six months that I’ve started to fucking relax.”

Shawn’s body surges with affection and protective instincts he barely recognizes. He nods eagerly.

“I think it’s amazing you decided to do it on your own. I mean, I bet you hear that all the time. But…”

“But you know better than most how much of a risk I felt I was taking,” she says softly, leveling him with her gaze.

Shawn is quiet remembering the night she finally released it into him, a flood of words he was too young to hear, to feel, to accept. It was the night they said ‘I love you.’ It was the night he ran.

“Your turn,” Val whispers, refilling their glasses. Shawn drinks eagerly.

“Uhm… I… fuck. The closest I ever came to calling you was six years ago, after Making Midnight. I felt like shit. I think I knew all along it wasn’t right -- none of it. It wasn’t me, it wasn’t us. It was a bad album. I had no business being as pissed as I was that it sucked and everyone hated it. But I was so angry with myself. I just felt powerless. It took me so long to be ok with speaking up and saying when I thought something was wrong. It took me so long to find a way to be a leader. I think that’s the way I’ve changed the most in the last ten years.”

Val watches him thoughtfully. She takes a short sip and shakes her head.

“Maybe that’s one of the ways. I’m not sure it’s the biggest. I think 19-year-old you wouldn’t have lasted through a walk in the park with me and my kid. 29-year-old you held her for over an hour. I think you fell a little bit in love with her.”

She chuckles but she’s not joking. Shawn goes crimson.

“She’s… god, Val, she’s amazing. You’re so lucky. You… you both are.”

Val’s eyes drift shut. She drains her second glass. When she opens her eyes again, Shawn’s warm honeyed eyes are watching her. He doesn’t look scared. He doesn’t look anxious. He looks a little lonely.

Val fills their glasses again. She’s warm enough now to slip out of her cardigan and leave it beside her on the sofa. She watches Shawn watch her toss her hair over her shoulders. He chews on his lip until it’s red and swollen.

“Say it.”

He looks up from his already half empty third glass. He blinks quickly. “What?”

“Say it, whatever it is.”

Her voice is calm and smooth. He swallows.

“I was just… wondering if you’ve been in love in the last ten years.”

Val’s head tilts. “Honestly? I didn’t really try. I didn’t want to be. I just wanted Alice. Even before I was ready for her, though, I wasn’t all that interested in looking around. I guess I figured it would fall into my lap when it was right.”

“Why didn’t you look?” Shawn asks, a little too quickly.

Val notices. She takes a slow, deep breath. Shawn watches it inflate and deflate her chest as his tightens. With a resigned smile, Val reaches out and cups his cheek. Her whole body is warm, humming with alcohol in her veins. Her fingers have him choking down a gasp.

“Do you know what I think is really the most incredible part?” she breathes. He blinks at her again, dumbstruck.

“We were together less than three months. It was Warped Tour. We were… fuck, we were kids. I never expected that I’d be hung up on it after all this time. That years later, I’d be on dates and thinking of you. That I’d be sleeping with other people and still thinking of you. I thought this is something that would fade. When I saw you in the garden today, it felt exactly the same as waking up next to you in my bunk on that stupid tour bus, like it was 2007 all over again.”

Shawn’s eyes have fallen shut. He’s overwhelmed, breathing heavily. He turns his face to nudge his lips against her thumb, leaving a gentle kiss.

“God, I still write songs about you. Like, all the time. I thought I was crazy. Maybe I am. I don’t know. Maybe we both are.”

Val waits a beat, then drags his lips to hers. Her kiss is firm but sweet. Her face softens as soon as his mouth touches hers. His fingers curls into the ends of her hair as he edges closer, carefully, dropping himself headfirst into the kiss because who knows if he’ll get another.

They break apart, panting for air. Val plants her hands on his shoulders and wastes no time hauling herself into his lap.

Shawn whimpers, gasping into her mouth. She feels… perfect. Fuck, he’s on fire. It’s been so long. Her tongue slips against his, she groans into his mouth. Her arms are slung around his neck so all he can see and hear and feel is her. How did he go without this for so long? How did he let her go? How could he leave?

But he knows why he left. He left because he was a kid. It took every ounce of strength and maturity he had to walk away when he let himself realize it. He left for him.

Shawn inhales deeply and scoops his hands around her cheeks, easing her back gently. Val’s eyes are heavy. She’s panting.

“Wait… wait,” he grunts, shaking his head as he breathes heavily, in synch with her, “It can’t be like this this time.”

Val feels his words snapping into place in her head. She looks down at the baby monitor she dropped next to her sweater. She lets her head fall forward as she laughs breathlessly.

“Ok. Add that to the list of things you wouldn’t have done ten years ago.”

Shawn grins and tugs her forward until her head rests against his shoulder and his arms drape around her back.

“You deserve so much better than what I gave you last time,” he says softly. It’s not pained or self-deprecating, it’s simple and honest. “I want it to be real.”

She turns her lips against his neck and sighs. The same scurry of goosebumps she remembers she always left on him marches across his skin.

“Then let’s talk about it in the morning,” Val murmurs. Carefully, she unfolds her body from his, takes his hand, and leads the way to her bedroom.

-----------

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paigetaylor628 · 5 years

Text

I need feedback... desperately.

So I recently got this amazing idea for a story and have started writing the first few pages. But yet. I re read what I wrote and think it’s trash. I need someone to read this who isn’t me and tear it apart so I can make it better. Please help. Pasted below is the beginning.

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad of an idea would it be if-”

“At least a twenty.”

“C’mon you don't even know what i was going to say!” Kingsley, my best friend of 10 years kicks a rock with the toe of her boot, “It could’ve been something great!”

“Yeah you say that every time and every time you do we end up in trouble,” I stretch back on my elbows and glance up at the sky, the clouds roll by slowly.

“Okay, okay i do admit sometimes i don't have the best ideas but this one is super good. I promise just hear me out.” She turns back towards me, her black hair flies into her face against the wind.

“Lay it on me, Lee.”

“What if we talk to your grandmother about renting her old house, she lives in the retirement home now, so that huge beautiful victorian house is just sitting there. Waiting for me to get my hands on it for a serious makeover.”

“My Gran already made it clear that no one can have that house made over. Not while she's alive, anyways.”

“Fine, but, still living in that house would be so much better than living on campus our sophomore year of college. We tried the whole dorm thing last year and i'm perfectly fine with having my own bathroom.” She pouts, putting on her best puppy dog face.

“Fine, fine . i will talk to her, but you can't give it a makeover.”

Her face breaks out in the biggest smile i've ever seen, “Oh my god, that was so easy!” She lays back on the grass next to me. Moments pass as we lay there in silence just staring at the sky, watching the clouds roll by, nature just taking it course around us.

“Lucille?”

“Yeah Kingsley?”

“I don't know what i would do if i lost you,” she sighs, her hand covers mine on the grass, “I can't help but think that-”

“Don't. Let's not talk about it,” and with that the conversation is over, but the icy feeling around my heart is still there.

I'm not sure how long we lay on the grass just watching the world go by, clouds tumble across the sky, birds chirp to each other among the trees. It’s peaceful, and after awhile my eyes get heavy, and i drift off. Letting sleep take over, and there is nothing but black.

“Luc, we have to leave now the park closes in a few minutes. It’s 7:30,” Kingsley nudges my shoulder with her elbow, “And I have to go pick up my brother for 8 or else my mom is going to flip out.”

“Okay, fine. Im up, you go i’ll let you know when i talk to my Gran,” I sit up and brush my hair back from my face, as kingsley gets up from her spot and wipes off her jeans. She leans down and offers me a hand, helping me to my feet.

“Don't wait too long to talk to her, we have to have our housing figured out by the end of the week, so if she says no we can still get into the dreaded dorm rooms.”

“Yes mother,”

“Hey! I'm just trying to make sure we aren't homeless this semester!”

“Technically you could just stay with your parents, and i could stay with Gran but i know what you mean. You want to be an adult.”

“Whatever, i’ll see you soon,” she leans in and gives me a hug before running off down the hill and down the trail towards the parking lot. Her mess of black curls is the last thing i see as she disappears around the corner. Stretching up I glance around, everyone is on their way out of the park, a few couples are walking out holding hands. Close behind them is a family of three, a mom, a dad, and their son. The parents are walking on either side of the chubby toddler, as he waddles between them concentrating on the ground in front of him. His parents walk slowly with him and then swing him up into the air. I can hear his screeching laughter from here, and i can't help but smile.

As the family disappears down the trail towards the lot, i stand up. I didn't want to leave, this is the first time in months that i feel normal, and honestly i missed it. I wish i felt like this all the time, but unfortunately i have to get back to the real world. The world that isn’t as nice as just laying in the park with your best friend for hours.

Brushing off my pants i make my way down the hill to the dirt trail at the bottom. The rocks crunch under my boots, but other than that, there's no other sound. Not even the sound of the birds, it was like nature had stopped. Pausing a moment i glance around, a chill runs down my spine. I'm the only one in the park now, and i swear i can feel eyes on me. I shove my hands into my pocket and continue on down the path, picking up the pace a little. As i get closer to the parking lot the feeling gets worse, and i break into a run.

I can see my car in the lot, it's the last one there, i have never been so excited to see that suv in my life. I hate that thing, but now im glad its still there, because i need to get out of here. I scramble to get my car keys out of my jeans pocket, my hands violently shaking. Finally i manage to pull them from my pocket and jam them into the drivers side door unlocking it. I fling open the door and slide into the seat, slamming the door behind me. My chest heaving, with shaky hands i start the car and peel out of the parking lot. The uneasy feeling disappearing as i get further and further from the trail. A black swirling shadow catches my eye in my rearview, and when i turn to look out my back windshield. Its gone.

My heart is slamming against my chest, my palms are slick against the steering wheel as I pull out of the parking lot. Whatever was back there didn’t leave me with a good feeling. Turning on the radio I start on my way to my grandmothers retirement facility, all I want to do is start on my assignments and eat something. Soft country music plays through my speakers and I roll my window down half way, letting the breeze whip around my hair.

For an autumn day it was surprisingly warm, and The further I got from the park the chill becomes less and less, and even though the feeling had gone, something in the back of my mind is still stirring. I try to tune out the last few minutes by getting lost in the music, and make my way the rest of the way back to my temporary home.

I pull my 4Runner into its parking spot beside my grandmothers brand new Mercedes and shut the car off. The parking lot is packed considering everyone that lives here is over 60 and doesn’t go out much. I was the only person here under the age of 60 and I technically wasn’t allowed to be here but considering my circumstances they let it slide for now.

I climb out of my car and lock it behind me and make my way into the huge stone building, I scan my card at the door and it buzzes unlocking the door and i pull it open. The lobby is mainly empty except of the front desk employee who smiles a little too widely at me as I walk past. The elevator dings and the door opens and the Lincolns, the old couple that live next to my grandmother, who make way too many things involving onions smile and step out.

“Oh Lucille! Please tell Amoura that we will be at bingo tomorrow night and will save her a seat. And you as well dear if you want to come.” Mrs. Lincoln smiles at me as we trade places in the elevator.

“I will let her know. Thank you”

“Have good night dear.”

“You too, Mrs. Lincoln” I smile at her and nod towards her husband, “Mr. Lincoln.”

The elevator door shuts and I press the button for floor 6, and the elevator lurches to life. It’s old so I can hear gears clicking together and the pulley squeaking against them. The door slides open and the white hallway that leads to my grandmothers apartment greets me.

“Grandmother? I’m home” I twist my key out of the lock and toe the door closed, “the Lincoln’s want you to know they’ll be at bingo.” I take my vest off and put it over the back of the chair in the entryway, and go towards the kitchen. My grandmother is sitting at the table her hands folded over a piece of paper and an man sits across from her.

“Oh Lucille, I wasn’t expecting you home so soon.” She tucks the paper under her hands more and turns to me.

“Kingsley had to go pick her brother up, so I came home.” I brush my hair behind my ear and glance at the man sitting across from her. “Who’s this?”

“He was just leaving-“

“But Amoura.” The man interrupts, causing my grandmother to give him a look that would surely render him dead.

“Stefan, we will resume this later.”

“You’re making a mistake Amoura and you know it.”

With that the man who my grandmother addressed as Stefan walks by me and out the apartment door, it slams and the pictures on the wall shake.

This is is a first draft I know the tense changes and it’s very very bad. But that’s why I’m asking for help.

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albedosoyna · 7 years

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Title: Rest

Characters: Aranea Highwind and Lunafreya nox Fleuret Pairing: Aranea and Lunafreya (breeze on the moon or windy moon?) Rating: PG Summary: Aranea takes care of Luna Contents: Snuggling and some swear words. - Story for rare pairs week with the key word: Comfort.

@ffxvrarepairsweek

Link to AO3