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hiddenwritingsintheworld · 8 months

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Welcome to SunnyVale Oneshot

(Guyyyyysss Im literally just writing and posting whatever pops in my head at this point My Alpha is about two paragraphs from being done :P Be watching for it!! Cruel Summer Ch. 2 should be finished by the weekend too annnd im gonna work on Midnight Rain Ch. 2! So lots goin on! :D anywho, I love Trailer Park Boys and have been watching it on repeat for WEEKS. So I just had this cute idea and figured I'd write it since I cant sleep! :P )

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“Come on Bubs! Hurry up! We’re going to be late!” Julian yelled as Bubbles said goodbye to his kitties. “Boys, boys, boys!” J-Roc ran over across the road toward them. “Yall aint never gonna believe this! We got a reunion comin!!!” J-Roc grinned as Ricky looked at him, “what in the fuck are you talkin about J-Roc?”

Julian took a sip of his drink as a large black bus pulled into Sunnyvale Trailer park.”So listen I heard from a friend of a friend that Y/N was in town. Rumor has it, she's gonna come do a tour of the park.” J-Roc said looking from Bubbles and Ricky, to which they all glanced at Julian. “What?” he snapped at them. “Well Julian…last time you and Y/N saw each other…she was tellin you she was leavin and you were ...well you were gonna ask her to marry you, until she……said……that….and you…..well…you know….broke her heart,” Bubbles said as an awkward silence filled the air. Julian sighed loudly and took a bigger drink of his drink as the large black bus drove slowly and carefully down the road, before coming to a stop.

The air brake let out and the door opened, a few moments passed and suddenly, Julian felt like his heart had stopped and dropped into his stomach. Everything seemed to move in slow motion for him as you stepped off the bus. You wore a pair of suede thigh high heeled boots, a pair of black tights, they were the sheer kind that made Julian’s knees weak, you had on a burnt orange tight mini skirt on, and a black long sleeved shirt. When you looked up, your hair was curled in loose big curls, the wind lightly blowing your hair. You suddenly got the biggest grin on your face and darted toward the group of guys standing there. “Oh my gosh!!!”

You laughed as you jumped hugging Ricky, the guy who was like the dumb, protective big brother you never got to have. You don’t know how many times Ricky saved your ass from getting into trouble either with Jim Lahey, the trailer park supervisor, or the cops whenever Julian and Ricky came up with some stupid plan. “Hey bugz!” Ricky had started calling you bugz when you guys were just kids, because you always had a ladybug or butterfly landing on you. He said you attracted bugs and teased you about it alot.

Next to whisk you into a bear hug was your very bestest friend Bubbles; which the guys didn’t know but you still talked to regularly. “I’ve missed you bubs!” you laughed as he pinched at your belly “Whos got your belly?” “Don’t touch my fuckin belly bubs!” you both laughed again as he hugged you one more time. “I’ve missed you around here Y/N, we all have.” Bubbles said as you both pulled apart. You smiled and looked at Julian, “Hey Julian,” you said, willing to step up and hug him, but the longer the silence went on, the more awkward it got. “Hey fucktard, are you gonna speak or did your brain not get enough words movin arounds in there?” Ricky smacked his arm as you laughed softly. You’d forgotten just how Ricky talked, sometimes you really missed living here, other times, you wish you could have brought them with you, but you knew they would never leave their beloved trailer park.

Julian let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d held since you turned and stared at him. “Wow,” he whispered to himself, but it was loud enough that all of you heard him. You felt a small blush creep up your cheeks, “Still drinking rum huh?” you asked him, smiling some as he cleared his throat, taking a large drink, and not the usual sip. “Oh, I brought presents! Give me one second!” You turned your hair flipping around, wafting the smell of your shampoo, mixed with your perfume all around. “Hey Mike!” You hollered while walking toward the bus, “Can you grab that blue duffle bag in the back for me?” you asked as you stood just a few feet from the guys.

That smell hit Julian like a brick house as he closed his eyes, “I can’t do this.” he mumbled to Bubbles and Ricky before he turned and stormed back to his trailer, slamming the front door shut. He leaned back against it before flinging his glass at the opposite wall, letting it shatter and liquor spill to the ground.

You turned at the sound of the door slamming and frowned. “Why’d he leave? I have a gift for him too.” you smiled a little awkwardly at Ricky and Bubbles. “Uh, I think he had to um, go, look at a book or something, anyways what’d you bring us Y/N?” Bubbles asked as you gave him a soft smile. It wasn’t easy for you either to see Julian, that night before you left played over in your mind a lot.

******

15 years ago

You rode your bike down the street, the sun setting on your last few days of summer, you couldn’t wait to tell Julian, he was going to be so proud of you. You rode up to the stairs of his trailer and put on the kick stand before jogging up the stairs and letting yourself inside. “Jules? You home?” you called out, but not hearing a word. You pushed out your lips and walked toward the back where his bedroom was, “Yeah Ricky. I fuckin know. I'm nervous as hell the way it is. Dont you think I know that you fucking idiot?” He was on the phone in his bedroom. “Listen I’m busy tonight but I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Just don’t fuck up,” he hung up the phone and turned around to see you leaning on the doorway smiling softly. “Hey-how long you been standin there?” he asked as you smiled and shrugged. “Long enough to know you’re nervous about something...you two boys doin another deal?” you asked as he sat down on the bed, pulling you to straddle his lap. “Don’t worry about it sweetheart, what are you doin here this late?” you smiled, kissing him softly. “I have something to tell you,” you whispered against his lips.

*****

You’d given the boys their gifts, Bubbles got a rocket ship, directly from NASA with his own spacesuit and a couple of real moon rocks and Ricky had gotten a customized glass bong. “Take care of that Ricky…..I figured you’d like it.” you laughed as they ran off starting to play with Bubbles rocket. You took this chance to slip away and go to Julians, knocking softly on the door.

A few moments later the door opened and Julian stood there, hair wet from a shower, slicked back by the water, sweatpants hanging low on his hips with a towel around his shoulders. “Y/N. Hey, uh, what are you doin here?” he asked as you forced a smile. “Uh, I have a gift for you.” you said patting the duffle bag that hung off your shoulder. “Oh, you didn’t need to get me anything.” he said as he stepped aside and let you come in.

Walking in, you stood awkwardly as he closed the door and moved toward the couch. “You can come sit down ya know?” he said, looking at you. You nodded and walked over sitting next to him. “Um,” you cleared your throat and dug around in the duffle bag. “Sorry, I would have wrapped it better, but I made a special stop for it.” you handed the box to him, watching him look confused, you smiled as he opened it.

Inside, laid a very old and special bottle of Rum, Harewood Barbados 1780, to be exact. “Holy…fucking…shit.” he looked at you, a look of shock on his face. “Oh! It wasn’t a big deal….I know a guy who knows a guy,” you laughed softly. “You know someone who owns a $29,000 bottle of Rum?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as you smiled bashfully. “I know two guys now who own a bottle of $29,000 Rum.” you said as he smiled watching you grab another box. “Can’t drink expensive rum without new glasses.” you said handing him the black box.

Julian smiled down at the gifts in his lap, before the memories came rushing back. “Listen…Y/N….I meant to write back…when you wrote me that letter….I just…got busy…and I didn’t…know exactly what to say.” You shook your head waving a hand. “Not a big deal….I moved on, I’m sure you did too. We’re adults now and that was 15 years ago so, you know, what's in the past,” you said looking down.

Julian put his gifts aside and moved closer to you. “I’ve followed your career,” he said smiling as you looked at him. “What?” you tried not to laugh. “I doubt I sing the kinda music you like,” you laughed as he did, “While that’s true, I do listen to your music. You’re talented. You always have been…” he said softly as you stared at him, “Julian…I’m sorry I left. But tomorrow I’m going to show everyone where I was raised and where I lived with my parents. And I want you and the guys to be in the video.” you smiled as he chuckled “I’m sure we can make that happen.”

Julian got you both a drink, and you began to get caught up on each other’s lives. “See Ricky…I’m tellin you that was a genius idea.” Bubbles whispered as they peaked in Julians windows. “He’ll finally tell her after all these years.”

You were trying to catch your breath from laughing so hard when Julian put a hand on your leg. You looked at him as he stared at you, smiling softly. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered as you nodded. “I’ve missed you too.” A few more moments of staring at each other passed before he grabbed you and pulled you in close, kissing you deeply.

After a few moments, Julian pulled away and sighed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t.” he got up running a hand through his hair. “Fuck!” he yelled causing you to jump. “I should go.” you said quietly as you gathered your stuff and stood up. “No, please don’t go,” he sighed “just…..wait here.” he walked back to his bedroom, returning a few moments later, his signature black t-shirt clinging to the muscles that ran through his chest and stomach. “You weren’t the only one keeping a secret….” he pulled his hand out of his pocket, a black velvet box resting in his hands. “It’s nothing fancy…..I got it from Mrs. Peterson. When she died, she willed it to me, along with some money and other stuff…but….” he opened it, revealing the small, beautiful gold ring inside. The tiny cluster of diamonds sat directly in the middle. You stared down at it, unsure of what was going to happen, or what would have. “.....you….you wanted to marry me?” you whispered as he nodded. “But…then you said everything you said….and….” you looked at him, your brows pulling down together as confusion took over your face. “You lied to me didn't you?” you asked as he sighed. “I panicked, I didn't know what else to do…” you scuffed, shaking your head as you backed away and grabbed your stuff. “I can’t believe you Julian…you lied to me…you swore you never would.” you shook your head. “Whoa, you lied to me too.” Julian said as you looked appalled at him. “Are you kidding me? I didn’t lie to you, Julian. I WAS pregnant when I left. I took the damn test. And guess what? I rehearsed through the miscarriage, I performed when and where I needed to, so now I can go around and buy $30,000 bottles of Rum to impress someone I was head over heels in love with, in the hopes that I might get a tiny taste of what I used to have in life before I lost it all!” you yelled before you stormed out.

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bowieandqueen11 · 2 years

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Dating Westley Would Include...

Request: Hello! I was wondering if you could do Westley from princess bride relationship headcanons?

The Princess Bride is one of my favourite movies (I watch it every year on my birthday) so thank you! <3

If you enjoy, please leave a comment and let me know! Thank you for your kindness!

Warning: mentions of injury/ blood and swords.

(I do not own the Princess Bride or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @thekatebishops.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

As a young babe, the fairy tales your mother used to read to you at nightfall, so full to the brim of hope and true love as they were, always seemed like a strange fantasy to you. Little did you know, as you grew up alongside that strange farm boy who hovered behind your every step as if he worshipped the ground you walked on, that true love had been lingering behind your eyes for as long as you had lived.

That all changed one magical day on a late spring morn, when you decided to try and cure your lack of sleep by wandering down to the barn. Sitting amidst the starlit lavender thickets, the few cows you owned came shuffling away from their warm hay to come moo by your face as you sat cross legged beside them. Despite the sleeting rain that muddied the brick outhouses, you could see a thatched window swing open from the opposite side of the farm, and Westley’s curious face peeking out at the sudden uproar of noise. Once he spotted you, I swear, a smile bright enough to blight the most sweet of angels bloomed across his face; it took him less than a minute to throw his shirt on and to come through the verdant storm to sit beside you. You didn’t think you could get any cosier: the gentle pitter patter on the creaking roof-beams, and the warmth of the young man settling himself beside you without a word. That was until Westley unravelled the cloth he had managed to hide underneath his elbow, and gently wrap the straw stern blanket he had brought around both your heads, until you were tucked together under the stars like a fresh bud waiting for the sunlight.

‘You look freezing, my love’, he says gently as he takes your hand from where it’s resting on your knee and wraps it in his under the blanket. ‘It would be my honour to share what little comfort I may bring with you.’ The glow of the speckled stars makes his eyes seem to grow tenfold, despite how bright and wide they are already, when filled with an unutterable and primordial love. You turn your head towards him, and he follows your every movement. Taking a chance, you ask squeeze his fingers and ask if you can kiss him, and with a love-fraught sigh, as quiet and gentle as the wind brushing through the violets, and an overjoyed shut of his eyes all he says is... ‘as you wish.’ And then the heavens seem to open above you: spurting out gold and silver bursts of shooting stars across the pearled horizon as you press your lips onto his pliant ones, and the two of you spend the growing dawn growing to learn the aspect of each others lips.

Since Westley doesn’t have much money, spending time with you and acts of his service are his ways of showing the outpouring of love that dwells within his heart. He teaches you to bake bread, the one skill he can remember being taught to him by his mother back when he was a child, bless her soul. The two of you sweat away by the barn’s oven, tucked away from the rest of the world in the small grove by the edge of the woods. Westley grows weary of not being able to touch you, and so he abandons his own progress to come lean over you and press his fingers on top of your own; he’s so close, you can feel the tufts of curls that cover his eyes brush over your own, and you swear every time you dart your eyes shyly towards him, he’s quickly looking away from you and back to the dough with his own bashfully fluttering eyes. The playful smile never leaves his face, though. not even when he flicks a bit of flour onto your nose and makes you sneeze so loudly you can hear the horses whinny in fear from outside. He finds it so sweet, he can’t help but lean over and press a tender kiss against your cheek, lingering for so long against you that you end up growing impatient and moving his nose away from his cheek. Grasping the bottom of his chin, you squeeze his face and turn it till he’s kissing you once more, thrilled by the way his remark of surprise soon melts into a hoarse moan. You only pull away when you notice from the corner of your eye that your thumb has left a smudge of dough on his face. He lets you hold his head in your hands, gazing up at you like a tired puppy as you wipe the remnants away with a shared laugh.

From time to time, the two of you will steal a horse away; bouncing up on the saddle behind him, you grasp tightly onto his waist as he leads you both away from your father’s farm for the afternoon. The two of you take a break from the labour to go sit out in the nearby orchards, watching the sun begin to fall past the rows of snapping firedragons and dew-drop snowdrops. From where you lie, stalking like a vine around his chest, you disturb the way he’s stroking his fingers up and down the side of your face to tuck a stalk of lavender behind his ear. In the sweet solitude, before the two of you become too sleepy laying in each others arms, you shove yourself off of him and begin running through the fields. In a fit of giggles, you try to cover your hand and stay quiet as you begin to hear his boots run over the rolling bends of the hill after you. Just as you were turning around to try and spot his outline on the horizon, a strong pair of arms wrapped around your waist and spun you up from the ground.

‘I found you again, as I always will my dove’, he whispers against the shell of your ear, only disturbed by the sounds of your father yelling from his cart for the two of you to return home.

From then on, Westley waits outside your window every night, crouching down among the mud and flowers until he’s sure your father has gone to bed. With his arms out waiting, he catches you when you unlatch the glass and begin to climb leg first over the sill, jumping down into his arms until he’s holding you bridle style against his chest. With a smirk, he carries you away to the hay bales for the night, so you can spend it away in each others arms. He can’t bear to be apart from you, not even within dreams, and so every time your eyes begin to shut you can feel him slide over you again; with his waist pinning you down, his hands come up to rest in bunches in your hair as he fervently caresses your face with trailing lips, mapping out the route to his heart over you: the key to it.

And then he leaves to find fortune: to find a happier, easier life for the two of you, and your whole world breaks apart in an instant. You run away as soon as your father relays the news of the Dread Pirate Roberts and your love, managing to join a misfit troupe of bandits and becoming best friends with a strange, Spanish, fencing drunk called Inigo Montoya. The two of you would spend nights on Vizzini’s ship with your legs swinging over the side of the deck, looking down at the lilac hued river bends and the placid stream that fished in between the looming rocks. Side by side, you would share a bottle of whatever bottle Inigo had managed to swing by the nearby village, and talk about the loves the two of you had lost with tears cresting behind your tired eyes.

Before you knew it, five years had passed, and the world still seemed as stilted and empty as it had when you had lost Westley. And then he returns one uneventful day. It doesn’t matter how different he looks, or what name he tries to call himself: you would know your Westley from the sound of his footfall alone. From the hitch of his breath when he docks his ship and first spots you standing on bow of your own, having been told years past that you had been captured and murdered by a gang of bloodthirsty outlaws. By the strength, yet the simultaneous tenderness of his arm as he swings a rope through the boat and yanks you around the waist, lifting you up past the mast and back onto the docks. Trying to gasp through your surprise as your feet plant on solid ground, you hold up a hand to Inigo, trying to calm him and to tell him to sheath his sword once again. He jumps down from the edge of the ship with an earnest glare at the masked bandit standing in front of you, but you’re too busy roaming your hands over his shoulders and back to care.

You go to try and peel off his mask, but in a sudden pang of fear that you’ll revoke him: that you’ll abandon him: that it will break your heart to see him so changed from the plain farm boy who had laid his heart at your feet so long ago, he curls his fingers over the top of your own and pulls them back down to rest instead over his panging heart.

‘Please, Westley’, you’re nearly gasping. ‘I’ve missed you more than I can bear. I need to know this isn’t a dream.’

‘As you wish, my love.’ He slowly brings your intertwined hand back up to roll the mask up, letting it drop with a flop into the dark depths of the waters. You nearly break out into weeping fits of relieved laughter, your hands roaming over every inch of his face: over the dip of his nose, the distinct cupid’s bow that trembles at your touch, the furrowed compress between his eyes that shakes as your pointer finger passes. He tries to follow your path until he goes cross eyed, instead flushing a deep crimson in a mad desperation to feel your soft hands cup his cheeks again, and bring his forehead down against your own.

‘I thought you had left me’, you nearly cry.

‘I told you, my primrose, that I will always find you. The path between true love can never be broken, especially by something so insignificant as time.’

Even though he joins your merry band in the end, and ends up being especially good friends with Inigo, any time he makes a joke about the two of you swords are immediately drawn. You roll your eyes as they start jumping about the cragged cliff edge, swinging about like acrobats as fencing swords start flying once again. He always wins, and always comes immediately back to sit by your side again after a shaking of hands and a satisfied smile. Even in his defeat, as Inigo settles down on his perch again, he can’t help but feel his heart lighten at the way the adoration and tenderness seems to glow and seep out of Westley’s every fibre as he looks over at you.

You have to patch Westley up after the many, many times he manages to get himself into trouble. Although he always tries to act the perfect gentleman, and tells you that having to look after him ‘is no job for a miracle such as yourself’, he secretly loves being taken care of as well. You sit in between his spread legs, Westley holding your hunched back close to him through the brackets of his arms. Even though you’re using a damp cloth to try and wipe away the fresh spouts of blood from his jagged cut, there’s no pain on his face. He’s watching you with a content beam twitching his lips, using the fingers that lie over your spine to try and distract you by tickling your back from time to time. Even in his darkest moments, he still wants to see you happy: this is why, with every wrap of the bandage around his arm, he tries to chase your knuckles with his lips before they disappear around his armpit again.

He always tries to protect you - especially when you have to go creeping through the fire swamp to get back home. He’s got a hand on you at all times through the enclosing darkness of the bristling canopies for two reasons. 1) To remind him that you’re still there with him and 2) to ground him - to bring him back, a reminiscence of his youth when he did naught but spend his life dreaming of the perfection and sweetness that he now holds in his arms.

At one point, when you stop to catch your breaths after nearly being attacked by another rodent of unusual size, he accidentally leans against the bough of a knobbled tree and opens a secret hatch in its trunk. Going and sitting in the dew crested dirt, he just holds you for a while as you sit on his lap - doing the only thing he ever wants to do and breathing you in.

He grips your waist and quickly tugs you out of the way of yet another fire swallowed sink hole, and he decides right there and then that he would be more than happy to die right there and then if it meant seeing you safe. You’re just a golden haze: a light of pure goodness and hope that keeps him from falling into despair, and he knows in the depth of his heart that he would be left wandering through the burning cosmos as a lost soul if he ever were to lose you: unsettled, blighted, forlorn and perishing without his true love to give him life.

He doesn’t have much else to give, so everything he has, everything he is will have to do.

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