#i think it’s funny if henry is a baritone | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

itstheimpossibledream · 3 years

Text

It’s Only A Play -Part 3

Word Count:3244

Pairing : AU Henry Cavill x FemBlack!Reader

Summary: We love a good slow burn. SMUT

The bag crackled in his large hands. You found yourself wondering why he even bothered delicately tearing the wrapping, when he could easily smash both the wrapper and cookie open in one fist. The fortune seemed so small in his hands.He held the paper back a bit further than you would have expected and you realized he was probably one of those people who needed glasses but refused to get them.He cleared his throat again."It says 'The art of living is taking the biggest chance.'"

"In bed." you said quickly

"What?!" his eyebrows flew up in shock but,he laughed to keep from appearing to hopeful.

"It's an American thing. You read a fortune cookie and at the end you add in bed. It makes every fortune cookie funnier, I promise."you said not breaking eye contact. He threw his head back and laughed even harder. It was a childish trick but, something about it tickled him so much he hardly noticed when his hat fell off of his head and onto Kal who had been peacefully sleeping in the slice of floor behind Henry's chair. His baritone chuckles echo through the apartment and you’re amazed that neighbors didn't even cross his mind as a concern in this place.Realistically he probably wasn’t even home enough to get a noise complaint. His laughing had lessened and you could feel him watching you. You knew people who had embarrassingly nice apartments but, nothing like this. This was just lavishly ridiculous.

"It gets lonely being here alone." He said evenly,reading your mind. "Family doesn't visit much and keeping friends with a schedule like mine is just..."

"Not easy ." you finished for him.You could feel his eyes boring into you carving out a space in your heart for him and you try to will yourself to stop. You both sat comfortable on the silence for a while, momentarily mutually mourning the lifestyle you lost to live your dream.

"Okay read yours!" Henry gestured to you cookie. You smashed it to bits,gingerly pulling out the paper fortune. You sat up tall clearing your throat trying to figure out if this fortune would be equally funny or if your childish trick had run it's course.

"You Are very talented in many ways in bed." You say bursting out laughing as he doubled over again.

"Come on! How come I couldn't have gotten that one" he jokes shrugging his shoulders.

" Just wasn't your fortune."you tease winking at him and getting up from the table.Okay so you were flirting with him,definitely flirting with him. But a highschool showmance was so unlike you. You knew the golden rule was to never go for your co-stars and yet here you were winking and shit. Maybe he'd ignore it , he really knew nothing about you outside of your work.

"So what made you like this story? When you got the script when did know you had to do it ?" He had moved from the table, his eyes shown brightly as he recovered his hat from the floor on his way. At the end of dinner you assumed it would be normal to grab your jacket and go back to your room.It's not like he had really planned for you to be over, and you weren't even friends so staying up this late with him to gossip wasn’t exactly in the cards. You had already learned so much more about him than you had expected to. He expertly moved to the kitchen,uncorked a bottle of wine he had chilling in the refrigerator and returned to the couch handing one of the glasses to you. So, now you were staying, I mean it’d be rude to turn down wine.

"Uhhhhh- well I think the relationship is relatable, it's real. It's not about these two perfect people but, it's about this perfect love they have... ya know?" You whirl yourself onto the seat on the couch next to him."To imagine what they were going through as a couple I mean- it must have made everything harder, these characters are from completely different worlds and they still choose each other in their own way. " He nods next to you , this was new. Geeking out with him about work wasn't what you expected but, you were actually enjoying it.

"So let me ask you something?"he pushes leaning in , He wrings his hands together and you’re distracted by the veiny passageways that mark down from his forearms."When do you think it would actually be necessary for them to have a sex scene?"he asks timidly.

"Right!" you exclaim! "I love Stephen but the way he directs it makes it feel so clunky !"you emphasize with your hands and he chuckles saying "Okay I'm so glad you noticed it too- like who has sex like this robots?"

"You know his partners have to be weird." you laugh , noticing how pointy his canines are. God, he looks like one of those twilight vampires, his stupid skin probably did shine in actual sunlight Not that New York would get any though,you acknowledge while making a mental note , not to drink to much of the wine that was clearly causing you to get distracted. You finish your glass and set it on the coffee table.

"Yeah I don't know i just think it's an unconventional love story and we need more of those." you smile , sheepishly meeting his eyes , going back to the topic of the show. His lower lip juts up as he nods,in agreement.

"Soooooo what's next?"you pop up, moving to his kitchen opening random cabinets, trying to find his liquor stash. You come across the empty bottle, of what must have been the wine you just drank and turn to him in the living room with a fake pout. It wasn’t that you were bored, or even that you didn’t want to spend time with him sober ;as much as it was that you desperately needed to cling to the idea that he wasn’t a good man for you.

"O. you can smoke out on the terrace if you want, and I don't have any more drinks here but,I can call down to the frontdesk to run and get you something.” Your eyes rolled so hard they almost fell out of your head.

"Of Course you have a front desk."you chortled to yourself.

"Hey, this is the flat the show is paying to keep me in not my own." he pointed at you in mock sternness

"No I'm okay. I don't smoke and drink all the time " you chided at him,he probably didn't really think that. He was just trying to drum up some conversation.

"and here I thought you were a real New Yorker." he jokes breaking into a toothy grin.

" I'm from a very small town-" you divulged with a sigh"definitely not New York.”

"Yeah- there's not many people from where I grew up around here either." he said plainly , moving to take off his rehearsal sneakers, for what was probably the first time since you had gotten to his place.

"You miss it a lot huh?" you ask

"I mean I go back often but, it's just much nicer to not have camera's up your ass all the time."he huffs, moving to the second set of laces.

"Ahh that good old Hollywood fame." you joke, with a sigh. He just smiles at you, beaming embarrassingly knowing he can never seem to say the right thing around you. For some reason busting his balls was somehow so much better than admitting to a feeling that you were becoming increasingly aware of,you wanted him.

"I'm not like a smoker smoker" you say, slicing through the silence "I picked it up from my ex and it just kinda stuck." you admit with a flippant gesture of your hand." But, only when I'm nervous or something."you felt the need to clarify.

"And why would you be nervous?"He smirked, pushing his shoes under the decoratively simplistic coffee table across from him and sliding down the front of the couch to sit on the floor. His thighs seemed abnormally large as he spread his legs out and started stretching. This time it was your turn to look away from him.You peeled your eyes,just as quick as he had before your shower. The confidence that radiated from him was absolutely maddening. You couldn't understand how any man could be so aware of their looks and yet still come off as slightly shy.

"I'm always nervous the first days of rehearsal.The new schedule, the new people, it's all just overwhelming at times." you divulged honestly. He pulled a knee into his chest heaving a sigh as you continued. "I wish I never started smoking though." you circled back.

"Do you wish you never met him too?"Henry asked, inquisitively peering up from under his hat as he switched knees. You exhaled slowly,fighting for the right way to answer that question.

"Sometimes yes" you nodded. "When I first moved to New York it was really tough, I felt really lonely too." you allowed your voice to trail into a whisper. There is a silence and then you can feel his eyes on you, your cheeks burning red-hot and the more you avoid looking at him the stronger the urge is.

"So that's why you're single." it was brutal but, you weren't upset.Long ago you had come to a similar realization about yourself. Plus, european’s had a way of sounding rude while simply stating facts, it’s part of what makes them so trendy.

"You've allowed life to make you become tough and jaded so you just don't date?Is that it?" he perked an eyebrow in your direction while removing his baseball cap.While you took no offense to his comment, that didn't stop you from hating it.

"Why do you care?" you asked immediately, choosing the defensive instead of going deeper and chasing him down the rabbit hole of honesty.

"See what is that?" he questioned.It was clear he was not going to be letting this go anytime soon.

"I'm trying to do the assignment. I'm trying to get to know you and you push me away."

"Don't be ridiculous."you roll your eyes toward him once again."I'm not pushing you away I just have boundaries and things I don’t want to discuss with you."

You push up from the couch and head in the direction of your room. It was not within his right to pry about your personal relationships,and truly there was nothing more to discuss. Plus, you knew if you stayed close to him a moment longer, you would give into his eyes and the beautiful vanes bulging in his large hand.

"Why?" he asked jumping to his feet,his agility momentarily shocking you as you turn to leave.

"Because I don't want to ! Because you're not-"

"Not what?" he pushes" I've been working around you and this thing between us and I don't why you can be blunt about everything else except this !" He got dangerously close to raising his voice and it stirred the butterflies in your stomach. Something about him being so stern with you set your sex drive ablaze. You could feel yourself biting down hard on your bottom lip and the more you refused to break eye contact with him the more fired up you became. You could see the honesty behind his eyes, he was trying with you, he was proving himself every step of the way and you hated how much you loved it.

"Fine. What is it? What's the THIS?" you ask sarcastically, staring directly at him. His face looked blank and you wondered for a moment if you had asked the right thing. He grabs your hand,falling back onto the couch and pulling you onto the couch on top of him.You quickly realize you are able to put yourself in a position where you can straddle him as he grabs your face, pulling you down to kiss him. You kiss him back slowly , taking time to explore with your tongue. You can feel his hand tangled in your hair at the back of your head and it does something wild to you. You grind down into him and you hear a slight moan escape his mouth.

You bite down suddenly on his bottom lip before coming up for air and he simply can't take it anymore. He wraps his arms around your legs and lifts you up by the bottom of your thighs, carrying you into the bedroom. You feel ridiculously delicate in his arms as he carries you. You break from the kiss momentarily, to make sure your head is ducking all the way under the doorframe as he holds you,smiling into your kiss.

You pull your own shirt off, letting it hit the floor with a loud 'thwack'. The noise momentarily wakes you out of your horny haze. As he lays you on the bed,you bring your forearm up to cover your eyes, in the vaguest attempt of shielding yourself from your own embarrassment. He pulls your pants off and while unsure ,you don't protest as he gingerly splays your legs open for him to see the wetness that had pooled in your underwear.

"O you're so wet for me now."he smiles from ear to ear as you peek through your hand just enough to see his perfectly chiseled chest and you shut your eyes again wondering if this could be real, if he's real.

" We're not done ."he smirks, grabbing you by the legs and pulling you towards him. He then gracefully flips you over onto your hands and knees facing away from him.He pulls your panties down and drags his large fingers over your wet slit and you arch your back at his touch. He settles one hand on your hip as he uses the other hand to work himself into you.You had imagined he was big, but when you feel his head poking into you, you knew your fantasies could never compare to the reality. He uses the hand on your hip to slowly pull you further onto him until you are taking in his whole length. Moving painstakingly slowly, in and out of you. You hear him moaning above you and then he whispers "Fuck” in that stupid accent before snapping his hips into you and pushing you forward. He uses his other hand to prop you up because he knows he's pushing way to hard for someone of your size. Slamming into your pretty little cunt over and over again. You let out his name and you allow plea after plea for him to let you cum. He pounds into you grabbing your hair and pulling your face up to meet his.After a few more thrusts he finally graces you with a reply.

"No." he says and then pulls out of you. Your body immediately feels drained, completely and utterly fucked out and somehow all you want is more. You hold the position for a minute breathing into the lack of movement when you look back to see Henry watching you. Working himself in his large hand, the veins in his arms bulging and a slight bead of sweat beginning to work it's way onto his forehead.

"Turn over" he commands, and as much as you want to move quickly your legs feel like jelly,the smile line at the corner of his mouth fades as he walks towards you and flips you over himself. He positions himself above you again and says "I want to see that pretty face you make when you cum." he smiles down at you sweetly. Pushing in between your hot folds again and the noise you make is downright pornographic. You know it , he knows it and only fuels the fire behind his thrusts . He reaches for your neck again, giving you a pale necklace of fingers and veins that contrasts with your skin . With his other hand you feel him grab at your hand and interlace your fingers with his, above your head. Your eyes fly open and he is looking directly at you, smiling a bit and you can tell he is taking you in. Revelling in all the tiny noises and ways your body responds to his. You can feel his pace quicken as his moans increase, it almost feels as though the longer you look at him the harder he fucks into you, challenging you, seeing if you can handle him. His curls begin to dampen and stick to his forehead, you watch while he looks down on you. He momentarily breaks having his hand at your throat to bring his own pointer to his mouth. You watch as he lighlty bites down on it while letting out a moan.It's almost as if he's trying to keep himself quiet, or burn this view into his brain, but he's to turned on to focus. He fucks into you harder and harder, you can't take it, seeing his teeth around his own finger made you absolutely feral. You cried out his name immediately and before you could realize what was happening you felt your walls tightening again under him. Your legs shook as waves of pleasure washed over you and you could feel yourself clamping down on him. He fucked you through the orgasm, and when it seemed as though you had recovered, he climbed up your body, forcing his cock down your throat, and came instantly. He shudders and makes deep grunts on top of you. You can't help but gag a little on his length as you try to take in the art that is his unclothed body. He hears you struggling for breath and immediately pulls himself out of you. He holds a thumb at the bottom of your chin and watches as you swallow every drop of him. When you're done you look up at him, giving him your best attempt at doe eyes and he turns your chin up for him to kiss you . Fuck. Fuck. you were not supposed to fuck your coworker.Especially not this coworker, you barely even liked him. After a few moments of making out the contact fizzled and eventually he was just laying next to you, breathing heavily.

"It's purely physical." you sighed, watching the small curly hairs on his pecs as his chest heaved.

"Is it?" he began laughing. His smile shone bright in the dimness of the room. He turns to face you, leaning in for a kiss again and you're to weak to deny him.

"Dammit." he whispers between your lips. You grab the back of his head pulling him closer to you, your mind to blissed out and high for you to think.He kisses you hard and then pulls back. He hops off the bed, chest heaving as he uses his forearm to wipe away the sweat. You sleepily roll over to face where he's going. Some minutes pass and before you know it your overly fucked body is begging for rest.You drift of to sleep feeling euphoria in the big bed.

92 notes · View notes

imnotwolverine · 4 years

Text

Bear cuddles

Henry Cavill x reader

Word count: 1.581

Warnings: bit of expressive language + pure and utter fluff <3

I just got my period and I needed to write myself some comfort fluff to pull myself through.

Ps. nesting is one of my favourite things to do when on my period party :3 Try it, do it!

(Link to my Masterlist)

It was Friday afternoon and you all but wanted to cry, your heavy legs carrying you up the stairs to your apartment at an excruciatingly slow pace.

Your neighbours were already well into their weekend celebrations as you heard their loud music booming through the hallway, the thin walls definitely not managing to silence their ill choice of mumble rap “music”. You sighed, digging through your pocket to find your keys. Hmm. No keys. Your bag perhaps?

Shrugging off the heavy bag from your shoulder you squatted down on the floor to dig through the gazillion little things that made out to be your ‘bare necessities’ while on the road. Some basic make-up, writing gear, a usb drive, a tiny sewing kit, a spare pair of leggings, a few peppermints…but ..no keys.

Darn it!

When did you last see them? Your mind was a bit of a blur as you had practically been on zombie-mode ever since getting up. You had been having a rough night as you had just gotten your period. And the many days of working late this week sure didn’t help either. But this? THIS?!

Just your luck.

You could only remember pulling the door closed this morning as you had to rush to the bus stop. Wait. Rewind a bit. Pulling..the door..closed. Oh FUCK. You left your keys inside! How did this always happen to you?

Annoyed with your own stupidity you pulled your phone out of your pocket - thankfully you didn’t lose THAT - and opened your contacts list. Scrolling through the many names your panic started to take a hold of you. Your best friend was out of town. Your ex had recently returned your key. The spare key in your office was inaccessible as the office was already closed. So..who else had a key? Did you really have to call your landlord? Or one of those key repair services. Oh this was bad.

Scrolling further down your eye fell on his name.

“Henrybear.”

A smile crept over your tired face as you remembered the night you had met Henry. The two of you had been quite drunk. Or should you say..really drunk? You two had been soo drunk that this one-night-stand of you two had absolutely failed: you had both fallen asleep. It did however make for a pretty funny moment as you both woke up, neither one of you quite sure about what had happened. Like..did anything happen at all? Well, just to be sure, you had made up for it with a second, much improved round of morning sex. Followed by breakfast in bed. Followed by a whole day of lounging around in your underwear. Followed by many more hook-ups whenever either of you needed it. And it was just what you needed since anything more serious was just not happening as your busy work schedules didn’t allow for this thing called ‘dating’.

It had been a week ago since you had last seen him and..you DID give him a key beforehand so he could let himself in while you were working late.

Should you call him?

Your finger hovered over the call button as you hesitated for a moment. What if he wanted to have sex? You definitely didn’t. Gosh. All you wanted to do was hide away in a blanket and pillow fort and watch bad movies with a large bottle of wine and pizza. Or..what if he wasn’t in town? Or if he was with someone else? Or…

Your thumb accidentally slid over the green button and any further trepidation was thrown out of the window. Your faith was decided upon as he answered after a few rings, his baritone voice greeting you with an upbeat tone.

‘Y/n! How are you darling?’

‘Hen…oh I’m such a fool…’ You started, your voice much more fragile than you wished it to be.

‘Hey, you okay? Something wrong?’ He asked. You sighed, feeling sorry for even bothering him with your own stupidity.

‘Oh it’s just so silly. I think I locked myself out this morning..can’t find my keys in my bag..and..now I can’t get into my apartment and..’ Your voice became more quivering as you rattled on. Gosh these hormones.

‘It’s okay, it’s okay. Shh. Calm down love. No need to panic.’ His voice was soothing like honeyed tea, your heartbeat immediately calming as you heard his feet echo through what probably was his hallway.

‘And good news. I have your keys right here.’ You could almost feel his comforting smile upon you, through the phone. You nodded and muttered: ‘Ok. I’ll..eh..come get ‘em. You’re at home?’

‘Oh no need to sweetheart! I’ll come over to you. It doesn’t sound like you need any further excursions for the day. You stay put and I’ll be there in fifteen.’

After silently obliging, you slumped against the wall, your head barely registering as a pair of feet halted right next to you some fifteen minutes later.

‘Hey you.’ Henry smiled lovingly, holding out your key and dangling it in his hand before pushing it into the lock and opening your door. A sound you didn’t know you liked to hear, until just now.

’You look like you are in dire need of wine, a bubble bath, pizza..and..eh..a hug, perhaps?’ You crawled back on your feet and looked into those ocean blue eyes, forgetting all prior objections you had for inviting Henry, his big warm body standing there, ready to be hugged. ‘Come on then.’ He ushered, holding out his arms a bit wider so you could slide right in, your face melting into his thick wool sweater, the scent of cedar wood, wool and some undefinable muskiness welcoming you.

‘Oh I’m sorry for this Hen. And you really didn’t have to come all the way over..’ You sulked as you both walked into your apartment. ‘And here they are..damn.’ You pointed at your keys that still lay on the cupboard in your hallway. Henry snickered and flung his backpack from his shoulder.

As if sensing you were not in a talkative mood he remained quiet, looking into the cosy apartment and waiting for further instructions. You looked over your shoulder at him and sighed. You couldn’t really send him away now, could you?

‘Is pizza okay for you too? With your crazy diets and all?’

‘I’m on the off season right now. So. Absolutely. Give me all the pizza you can get.’ He smiled, taking that as an invitation for him to stay for a little while longer, his hand now moving to close the door behind you two and placed his backpack in the corner.

‘Oh and I brought some “medicine” for you to indulge on.’ He slipped a bottle of your favourite wine out of his backpack, smiling like a proud puppy as you hummed in delight.

‘Henn..oh…’ You swooned, caressing his arm and feeling the annoyances of the day slowly slip into the background. Why was this man such a sweetheart? You couldn’t quite fathom what he was doing here with you, but right now you also didn’t wish for him to be anywhere else. You crushed yourself back against his large chest as you enveloped him in a tight hug, your eyes tearful with relief, the stress finally flowing out of your body.

Henry didn’t object, he just smoothed his large hands over your back in slow circles, slowly rubbing your sore muscles as you cried your tears.

‘I’m probably totally ruining your Friday night.’ You swallowed, nuzzling his wool sweater.

‘Hardly. Otherwise it would have been quite similar, but then without a sweet female counterpart to cuddle with. Pizza..a movie..wine..’ He shrugged and pulled away a bit, thumbing away the tears that were staining your cheeks.

‘How about you sit down and order pizza. Then I’m going to make you a little nest.’ He smiled.

A nest?

Not quite sure what he meant, but ever curious, you slowly nodded and walked to the kitchen island, sitting down on one of the bar stools as you ordered the pizza. While scrolling through the selection of pizzas you heard the rustling of fabrics along with soft socked footfalls to and from the living room. What was he UP to?

After placing your order you went out to look for Henry, finding he had made quite literally..a nest, your bed now stuffed with pillows and blankets.

‘Tada!’ He grinned, patting in the centre, ushering you to crawl in. You couldn’t help but giggle. ‘You are such a dork.’ You sniffled, gingerly crawling onto the mass of blankets before dropping yourself in the pillows. It was perfect. ‘Now, don’t move!’ He said while he left the room again, leaving you once more a tad confused before he returned with your laptop in one hand and two glasses topped with your favourite wine in the other. Reaching out the glasses of wine you quickly moved forward to take them from him and placed them on the night stand, his large body now crawling right next to you, making your cosy nest complete.

Soft fluffy nest? Check.

Wine? Check.

Cute bear to cuddle with? Check.

‘Netflix and cuddle?’ He smiled, opening your laptop. You giggled, nodding in agreement.

And Netflix and cuddle? Definitely check.

‘Now come here then, lovely one.’ He hummed, sitting back and opening his arms so you could crawl into his chest.

That night was probably one of the best nights you ever had. And “nesting”, had become of your new favourite Friday night activities, with Henry.

#henry cavill x reader #henry cavill read #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #oneshot #fanfiction #fluff #henry cavill fluff #bear hug #henrybear #bear cuddles #nesting

471 notes · View notes

whump-town · 3 years

Text

Crawl Home

I thought to myself Hannah why are you so mean to Hotch? Hmm, well, I’m a self-destructive little bastard and he’s a self-destructive big bastard so I just think it’s fun to project onto him. Then I considered -- shit, why not take it out on Emily too? So, I did.

Going to college hadn’t been nearly as difficult as leaving her soul, every good part of Emily Prentiss, behind her in Virginia. But there the pieces of her could be protected and here, in Europe working for Clyde, she can’t be sure she can offer the human parts of her that condolence. Then again, leaving for college had been leaving her mother. Freedom, at the time, she hadn’t known to its full advantage. Leaving Virginia is leaving the only family she’s ever known. The safety of girl’s nights, Dave’s expensive taste in bourbon, and the knowledge that if she had nowhere she still had them. Aaron’s couch where Jack calls her his favorite aunt and Spencer’s library so extensive she’ll never reach the bottom.

Emily is safer there with them.

The case is grueling, ripping apart wounds she thought healed and scarred over. It’s enough to make her consider calling Hotch. She gets so close, finger hovering just over her screen until she remembers that it’s probably three in the morning over there and she’ll probably wake him up. Stealing from him what little sleep he can manage and so she doesn’t call him despite the promise she made him just a few months ago. Looking into the vulnerability he’d laid out between them, needing her to be something unlike him, someone not consumed by this damned job that will take everything.

She took his hand -- rough and damp with his anxiety -- and said the words she knew he wanted to hear. Knowing that stepping foot on that plane, leaving them, was giving the job everything. It’s falling into the trap that nearly killed him and she’d watched it happen and still, she couldn’t stop it from happening to her.

Instead, she texts Garcia for a picture of Sergio and sends Dave a picture of her lunch so he can pride her on actually taking the time to at least try and eat. The food sets a little easier when he sends her some corny-ass text with an emoji he doesn’t really understand. To top it all off, Derek sends her a selfie from the bullpen where he’s actively sitting on Spencer and pinning him still for the photo. It solidifies her, the boost she needed.

See? she asks her reflection, she didn’t need to call Hotch. No need to admit defeat just yet. (and when he sends her a picture of Jack wearing the sweater she got him with the added detail that Hotch is wearing his matching one, she cries in her bathtub and reminds herself this is for the best). So this is what her freshman year roommate met by homesick…

“Clyde,” she announces, avoiding touching him as she slides past him. “After this case, I’m retiring. I’m going to go home and sleep for three days and then you expect my resignation. I’m going to go live in the Alps and hope a bear of some variation eats me after I freeze to death.” She says all this while she pours herself a cup of coffee. This is certainly a situation she’d mirrored with the likes of Hotch, Dave, Derek, and even Reid over the years. Where Clyde meets her with a raised eyebrow Hotch would have handed her his coffee and offered her a dimpled half-grin of agreeance. Dave would have taken her out for lunch. Derek would have hit her shoulder, stolen her coffee, and told her “toughen up, princess, it’s nearly Friday”.

Clyde takes a long pull from his own mug, drawing his eyebrows tight as the bitter, not properly steeped mess of his tea hits his tongue hotter than he anticipated. With a grimace he clicks his tongue, “you’ve got the vacation days.” He takes her by surprise, she wants him so desperately to be someone else. Reid’s bashful, not quite sure what he should say, face or Dave coming to sit on the edge of her desk until she caves and goes for lunch. But Clyde is Clyde is Clyde and he offers her a solution none of the others would have mentioned.

She does have time building up. Fall is rapidly approaching in Virginia and she could get home to see Henry and Jack before school. Spoil them with trinkets to show off to their friends. It’s her favorite season there and it would make great circumstances to steal one of Derek’s sweatshirts and escape with new recipes from Dave to try out. Enough time for so many girl’s nights -- her skin needs the reprieve and Garcia’s hand-picked face masks and JJ’s fantastic taste in wine. She needs to spend too many hours on Hotch’s office couch, listen to his deep baritone start to slur with Dave’s bourbon. To feel Dave’s crushing hug when they pour themselves into a cab and, like an idiot every time, the three of them bunch up in the backseat with her in the middle.

“I can see that look in your eye, Emily.” Clyde points right at her -- again, why does she expect him to be like them and just not profile her -- and he smiles with a shake of his head. “You’re going to go back to them, aren’t you?”

She takes her mug, solutes him with it, and walks away. Here, the rules aren’t the same. There is no Hotch standing over her shoulder, sending a glare in every direction, as the permanent reminder that there is a rule against inter-team profiling. But, that’s the catch. They’re not like her over here. Clyde has no secrets and she’s a field of undiscovered bodies in shallow graves. It doesn’t take a lot to go tripping over her bones.

As she sits herself down behind her desk, she spots the flicker of movement she’s learned to associate with her youngest agent and she knows exactly what the other woman is bringing. She finds herself sighing, feeling that bone-tired Hotch always looked (oh God, she hopes she doesn’t look like that). Why are there so many twisted fuckers in the world? She just wants to take a moment to enjoy her coffee.

“What is it?”

The poor woman coming into her office is taken aback but not entirely thrown off. “We found him.”

There goes her fucking coffee.

“Where?”

She’s going to hug Reid for as long as he lets her and she’s going bully him like he’s her baby brother until his face is red. When she sees Jennifer Jareau she’s going to force herself not to cry and she already knows Henry will be as tall as her by now. He just got glasses -- how do they grow up so fast? She’ll laugh, unabashed and loudly when Derek lifts her off her feet. Squeeze Garcia just as tight as Garcia squeezes her. Let Dave kiss her cheeks and press her face into his jacket when he pulls her in. She’ll snag a hug from Hotch when she knows they aren’t looking and quickly wipe her tear away when he whispers that he missed her.

“Be careful,” Clyde advises around a mouthful of cookie. “Don’t need any more paperwork than I already have.”

She rolls her eyes because it’s funny when he says it…

“Prentiss!” The agents here don’t call her Emily. “Ok, ok, okay--” The shot comes suddenly, unexpectedly and it hits her and for a blinding moment, she feels nothing. Searing, like the brand Ian pressed into her skin and then consuming so quickly that all she feels is hot, intense pain all across her body. “Hold still.”

There’s a blonde woman leaning into her wound, failing despite her desperation to keep Emily’s blood inside her. She looks like JJ -- or maybe the sky is just dark enough and the beams at just the right angle or the blood is pumping so quickly from Emily’s body that her mind is starved. Maybe there isn’t a blonde woman, she’s a hallucination, but it doesn’t matter. Emily just wants to go home.

“Hey, hey!”

Derek. It sounds just like him, his voice and roughly the hand that shakes her shoulder grips at her flesh. She feels weightless, suspended by her hips as she falls backward. The haze of blood loss and shock shutting down her functions. Tears sting her eyes and she sees the people hovering over her -- the distinct lack of Reid’s nervous voice, the hand holding onto hers is neither JJ nor Derek’s -- and she knows she’s not going home.

“Stay with me, Prentiss.”

Will they come here she wonders. If this is it, will they bring her home one last time? She doesn’t want to be buried in Europe. She wants Virginia and the fall and home. She wants to go home.

“Hey, hey--”

She feels the cold sting of a hand across her cheeks but her eyes have sunk. Home.

She just wanted to go home.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #emily prentiss #derek morgan #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #david rossi #penelope garcia #jennifer jareau #jack hotchner #henry jareau

40 notes · View notes

theonetheycallhannah · 4 years

Text

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 10: Myofascial Release

Characters: Captain Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: Shane and Sy decompress after an emotional evening, Shane finds it difficult to get out of her own head and live in the moment, but Sy knows exactly how to help her, and not to be a complete hoe and spoil things, but…things get steamier than ever between our favorite therapist and patient duo.

Oh snap! You’re behind! Get on track here!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Language, mature themes, alcohol consumption, the smut you’ve all been waiting for so patiently! (I hope it lives up to your undoubtedly high expectations!)

Author’s Note: Oh gosh, y’all, I am so nervous to post this. Somehow it doesn’t feel like my smuttiest smut. And like, all previous chapters have been kind of leading up to this moment. The good news is, I’ve decided to continue writing this story after the sex. I’ve got some ideas about where to go from here, and I want to keep it going. Plus, it feels wrong to write all of this and then just drop them without a big picture resolution. They’re gonna go through some shit, though. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags:

@onlyhenrys

@cavillryarchive

@summersong69

@titty-teetee

@bloodyinspiredfuck

@agniavateira

@oddsnendsfanfics

@omgkatinka

@thisismysecretthirstblog

@misslaland

@speakerforthedead0

@tumblnewby

@suavechops

@radkesgirl83

Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Her living room was cast in the low light of the floor lamp she had left on. Intending to come home after dark. Alone. She hated walking into a dark house by herself.

Well, tonight, she wasn’t alone. And although Sy had been to her house before, this was different. They were officially a couple, and they were no longer waiting to express, to the fullest extent, their true affection for one another.

Ever the hostess, despite her nervous tension, Shane asked Sy if he wanted anything to drink, rambling off several options somewhat awkwardly.

“I’m fine, darlin.’” He assured her, stopping her at some point in the rant, before she was completely done. “Do you need something?”

“Umm, I think I should have a glass of wine.” Her eyes darted to the kitchen across her serve-through counter space and landed on her fridge. “I’m…I’m really nervous.”

"Why don't we watch a little TV for a while? You get you some wine, and I'll put somethin' on. What are we watchin', sunshine?"

"Ummmm, something light? Funny? Something I've seen." She wouldn't be able to process anything new or heavy right now.

"I'm on it." he kissed the top of her head and left her side for the sofa, where he plopped himself down like a comfy hound dog, and picked up the remote to her Smart TV.

She smiled as she busied herself in the kitchen. She decided she wanted a snack with her wine. She got a plate of cheese and crackers together first. Then she remembered she had some venison sausage one of her coworkers had brought in, and put that on the plate, too. She got out a chilled bottle of her favorite, cheap moscato and a stemless glass. She couldn't go in there without something for Sy, so she also got a glass of ice water ready for him. She put the whole spread on her big serving tray and took it to the living room.

Sy was already halfway through the first episode of Parks and Recreation.

"I saw this in your 'Watch it again' group, and thought maybe you'd like to re-watch it. I've heard you talk about it a lot, and I've never seen it." He didn't complain at her for taking forever. He just lit up when he saw her. Like it was the first time. And not the hundredth.

"That's perfect, babe. I brought some snacks out, too. Some cheese and crackers, and this really good sausage one of my coworkers brought me. You like deer?" she asked.

"One of my favorite pet names." he teased. "I do, though, yes."

They ate, and laughed, and watched about four or five episodes, it was hard to keep track. But after approximately half the bottle, Shane had summoned some courage. She started playing at the texture of Sy's jeans, running a fingernail across the coarse fabric.

"Hang on, love bug. I want to know somethin.'" she looked up at him, mildly confused. "I'm trying to think of a reason you need to get tipsy to sleep with me that I shouldn't take personally." he rubbed her upper arm, comforting her as no one had done since she was a small child. At least not that she could remember.

"No, Sy. It's not like that. You aren't the problem at all!" she paused. He let her gather her thoughts. She appreciated that he knew she intended to continue and that he didn't rush her to do it. He was patient. And kind. And all of that should have made this whole night easier. But somehow it didn’t.

“I’m the problem." She confessed after a long pause and a deep sigh. "I mean, I’m in my head about it all, I know. But it’s been…almost six years since I’ve slept with anyone, five and a half, at least, and I can’t seem to wrap my head around it now that I know it’s going to happen again.”

He pulled her body into his, squeezing her tightly for one of his soul cleansing hugs.

“Sunshine. Everything will come back to ya. We’ll just go as slow as ya want. I got all night.”

“Okay. Well, I guess, since I’m a bit sleepy from the wine, we should head to bed.”

Sy affirmed the idea, and made to help her put their snacks away in the kitchen.

She got out containers for their leftover food while Sy stoppered the wine, put it in the fridge, and washed their glasses.

She felt his warmth before she felt his touch. He stood behind her, radiating his particular brand of heat for a moment, and taking in the scent of her hair near her right ear. She heard a low rumble from someplace deep in him which slowed her efforts at the counter. His hands were light but very much present on her hips. A whisper against the fabric of the casual but feminine floral dress she’d chosen for the night. But she felt it like the weight of her favorite old blanket, heavy with years and warm comfort.

He kissed her temple, chaste and unassuming. But still full of desperation. She could tell that he was ready. Even without the alignment of their bodies completely giving him away.

“Don’tcha think this stuff can wait a couple hours, darlin'?"

His baritone, breathless in her ear, was soothing her back into the mindset of being with him. His feather touch still lingering at her hips and waist. She thought back to those seminars she'd gone to on manual therapy where the speaker talked in depth about the fascial tissues running all across the various muscles in the human body and how trauma to one part could cause tension in another like a snag in a sweater and how he taught the participants techniques to undo that trauma through myofascial release. Sy was slowly managing to unwind and unbind the taut fibers of her heart and relieve that pain that Elliott, in particular had set into place so firmly when he'd hurt her. Lied to her. Cheated on her. Gaslit her. Made her feel like she'd never be loved if she left him. Made her question the very idea of what love meant. Because if what they'd had was truly love, she didn't want it. Wanted no part of the games or the abuse or the manipulation.

Without fully realizing it, during this time of reflection and healing, Shane had given up the task at her hands and turned to Sy, open to his treatment, as he'd always been so open to hers…or mostly. And she let him kiss her, reciprocating. And hold her, returning his enveloping embrace. She even let him pick her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, resting them on his…all too well-defined bilateral gluteus maximus that she'd had to pretend to ignore for weeks. In the therapist side of her brain, alarm bells were going off. "His knee isn't fully healed! You're gonna undo all of the work you've both done so far! He's gonna hurt himself carrying you around!" but she ignored them and trusted him as he walked to her room.

Shane wanted to say that her bedroom was one of splendor. Immaculately made bed, and overall, the picture of tidiness. The reality was much, MUCH different. Glasses half full of water were everywhere (she may be forgetful, but at least she was optimistic), at least one coffee mug sat on the nightstand from the previous weekend when she took a morning cup of tea in bed with her George Harrison biography. Laundry overflowed from a sorting hamper in the corner, and her bed sat, unmade, littered with crumpled pillows, sheets, blankets, and the pajamas she'd slept in last night. She wasn't the kind of person to make her bed for reasons other than having company over, like the fancy company you had to give a tour of your whole house. She'd tried to be that person numerous times, but it never seemed to stick.

Tonight, though, the guilt that came with sub-par housekeeping skills wasn't plaguing her. Right now, all she felt was the weightlessness of being with Sy, wrapped in him, kissing him, and fully ready for what was about to happen between them, as he fell with her onto her bed. Their heads clunked together awkwardly, invoking a mutual wince, followed by bouts of laughter and playful kisses.

He hovered over her a moment, just taking her in. His fingers ghosting her forehead and cheeks to clear it of the whisps of hair obscuring her face. He seemed to examine her in methodical quadrants. Learning the curves and colors and every wrinkle, freckle, and pore. She was still fully clothed, but she'd never felt so bare and vulnerable.

He left her eyes for last. His gaze drowning her delightfully. Random song lyrics came to mind, "the serenity of a clear blue mountain lake" and she thought yes. That is the precise aesthetic of this man's stare. His expression was inscrutable. She wanted to say he looked happy and content, but she didn't want to presume.

He began tracing the floral pattern on her dress with his fingers, and said, "I really like this dress on you."

She laughed, "Oh, that's the beginning of the oldest line in the book. You know you've already got me in bed, right?"

"No, I…" he chuckled, embarrased. "I mean it sincerely. Seeing you in flowers like this…makes me think they bloom right from ya."

She propped herself up on her elbows, dumbstruck by this uncharacteristically poetic side of him she'd just been shown. She stroked the side of his face.

"The man who came up with the original pickup line is rolling over in his grave attempting to kick himself for not thinking of something so beautiful."

"Yeah?"

"HELL yeah. He would have gotten WAY more lucky with a statement like that."

"You're probably right." he said, pulling her up to hold her in his arms.

"If for no other reason that it would have landed him a higher caliber woman than the floozies that he probably got."

He moaned his ascent against her neck, and continued, "Which would have meant a lot more getting lucky down the road, right?"

"Traditionally speaking, I'd say yes." she laughed, her fingers in his hair, which was barely long enough for the action.

"Okay, I know I said I liked the dress, but…" he tugged at the hemline tucked just under her hips and pulled it off her willing body.

"About time, cowboy!" she smiled, breathless.

He continued kissing her as he unhooked her strapless bra and tossed it aside, into the abyss, where the dress had gone. She was so dizzy from him that she barely noticed he was laying her down until her warm back hit cool sheets. She could feel his touch everywhere at once, despite the fact that he was really only making two or three points of contact.

Shane trembled as Sy peppered her soft body with kisses. She couldn't recall shivering like this before, especially when there was nothing but warmth, even heat, around her. His beard grazing her hips and thighs was sending tremors through her unlike anything she'd ever felt. She was a goner, and he hadn't even truly begun.

His breath against her skin was like lightning in the clouds. A storm began forming within, and all around them from his work on her…and eventually in her. He took the time to remove both of the shirts he was wearing--plaid cotton blend and thick white jersey. She reached out to run her fingertips over his chest, covered in a manly stand of thick, dark hair. It ran over his pecs and down his abdomen…farther, she knew, than was exposed right now.

She wanted to touch him. To return the favor. To stir in him the same tempest he'd stirred in her. She unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. She was a little surprised he wasn't resisting her, but pleased, all the same. She took the heavy weight of him out in some shock…she'd caught outlines and silhouettes often since they'd been together, but he hadn't let her go this far yet. It had made her feel a little slutty at the time, but now, she understood. He was…protecting her, in a way. She handled him curiously, gently, as he'd been with her. Her apprehension, however, grew with him.

"Sy, you're…I…" she wasn't sure what to say. But she had concerns about being rent in two by him.

"I think I remember tellin' ya you wouldn't be laughin,' sunshine." he grinned at her, breathless as she stroked him.

"You were right. But don't get too used to me saying so." she smirked back at him.

He pulled away from her, reluctantly, but eager to get back to tasting her.

She couldn't comprehend what he was doing. But it felt incredible. No one she'd ever been with had made her feel like this. Like her blood was effervescent and her body was aglow like embers. His reaction to her was as much a part of the pleasure as his ministrations themselves. She could tell he was enjoying himself which fed her desire.

She felt a tension coiling inside her, something similar to climaxes past but she could tell, much more intense. What was different? Other than Sy, she didn't know. But it was working. She moaned and writhed into him.

"Yeah, sugar. Let that out. I wanna hear it." he quickened, driving her mad and sending her spinning into her bliss, incomprehensible words and sounds escaping her, growls of satisfaction escaping him, but he didn't stop.

She felt his fingers working inside her to pull another climax from deep within her. This was new for her, as well. Not only was he putting her first, but he was making her a priority in double measure before taking anything for himself. As that pressure built in her again, she felt his gaze on her, hungry and adoring, and she heard his grunts of exertion and she thought, lust. She wasn't sure how many of his digits he'd managed to slide into her, but it felt splendid, and she wanted more. She gripped his arms to convey this desire, words caught in her throat. He dove headlong back down to her, adding his mouth to the onslaught of his hand, and before she could get out more than a "Fuuuu" she was falling apart again, her body spasming and writhing beneath his utter oral perfection. Eventually, she finished the word when she ran out of air and had to take in a large gasp on the "uck."

She watched him kiss around her thighs and hips, in awe of him in his entirety.

Breathless, she asked, "Why are you so good to me, Sy?"

"Well, a wise woman once told me, 'good go to heaven.'" he looked coyly up at her. "I think I'm there, sunshine."

"Ya know, you're the best patient I've ever had." she smiled.

"Well, I should hope so." he boasted as he kissed at her breasts, nipping at the taut, dark bud in the center. She gasped. He let go and continued his ascent.

He had a point. Who could have qualified as a "better" patient than him when he'd given her so much? Even more than what they were doing tonight. His kindness. The love he had always shown her, even when she wasn't ready to see it. His strength, but also his vulnerability that she seemed to be the only one ever to see. Combine that with the fact that his mind was basically a steel trap for her every word and it would have made him more than perfect enough for her.

But as he broke away from her kiss to take off his jeans, she marveled at the shape and size of his whole body. Those thick, strong arms, the broad, defined torso, the massive, powerful legs of an avid runner, and a face that God Himself would probably be jealous of, if He was capable of the feeling. This gorgeous exterior that Michelangelo would have killed to sculpt, combined with all of his other amazing qualities, and he was almost too perfect.

He cuddled up next to her, reached up, and caressed her face, still flush with pleasure.

"I could look at this face, and nothin' else for…damn… hours. Maybe days."

She blushed and cast her eyes down, and half whispered, "The feeling is mutual."

"Then why're you lookin' away, darlin'?" he tilted her chin up. "That shy business is cute and all, but you don't have to hide from me, sweetheart."

"Again, it's not you, it's me." she chuckled, nervously.

"You wanna call it a night, for now?" he asked without a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"You're kidding, right?" she raised her eyebrows. "You did all that work getting me ready for you, and I won't let that be a wasted effort." she pulled him to her and into a deep kiss, rolling onto her back and bringing him with her.

"Oh, sugar, that wasn't no wasted effort. That was time well spent. No matter what." he said in short bursts when he could pull away from her lips.

He lifted himself up and over her, kneeling between her legs, already open for him. She thought he should know how ready she was. Thought it should be painfully obvious. But he asked anyway.

"You ready, sunshine?" he asked, as he opened the condom and rolled it on…damn he was slick! She hadn't even noticed him get it from wherever he'd had it. She presumed his jeans pocket, which would explain much. She had been very distracted by his naked perfection.

"Yes. Please." she had been struck with an urgency as they stood here on the verge of everything.

He sunk slowly into her, the contentment of coming home spread over his face, the bliss of being whole spreading over hers. No, she thought. She was more than whole. She'd always felt mostly whole during sex. Sy made her feel as though she was overflowing with herself. And not just because she was overflowing with him. The way he moved in her, over her, with her, it was like he was afraid she'd turn to vapor around him before he could finish. Like she was nothing more substantial than a bubble full of smoke, and he thought she may burst and disappear. Although, you couldn't tell from the tight grip he kept on her. A bruising grip that she thought might have had a chance of popping a football. She didn't care. She wanted him to touch and hold her like this until they had no more to give each other.

As they built toward their mutual undoing, the world and everything in it faded away. There was no personal drama or injury. Nothing but the euphoria of this newfound oneness. The caresses and thrusts and groans of pleasure were the only things that mattered. Each other, and what they found therein.

“Shane.” He whispered to her, his pinnacle nigh.

“Sy!” She whimpered, that familiar tension approaching its apex.

He kissed her, as if he meant to permanently emboss her onto the bedding and onto his lips. She reeled as she came undone, little sparks of light obscuring her vision for a fraction of a second. He followed her closely, breathless and spent.

He laid down beside her, as close to her as possible, and began drawing mindless circular patterns on her stomach and around her breasts.

“Wow.” She said, almost under her breath.

“How ya feelin,’ sunshine?”

“Mmm, boneless. Dazed. Half wishing we’d done that weeks ago. I didn’t have a clue what I was missing.”

“Oh, I think you had an idea.” He said as he neatly doffed and disposed of the prophylactic in the waste can by her bed.

“Okay, a bit.” She chuckled. “It’s not like you can hide that…thing.”

“And I don’t try to, darlin’!” He kissed her forehead “Well, I don’t hide it just anywhere, put it that way.” He smirked at his dirty joke and she swatted him for it.

“You’re bad!”

“And you love it.”

She couldn’t argue. She loved his badness and his goodness and everything in between.

Up Next: Chapter Eleven- Discharge Plan

#netflix #netflix sand castle #sand castle #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x ofc #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson x ofc #sigh for sy #syverson smut #Smut

91 notes · View notes

ladyreapermc · 4 years

Text

This one if for the lovely @penwieldingdreamer “I’m going to take your panties off and make you come in my mouth. Sound good?” with Henry

It was supposed to be smutty but it turned into a fluff fest. Why is my brain like this?

I’’m going to take your panties off and make you come in my mouth. Sound good?’

You blinked in confusion at the words in your screen, a frown in your face. Because one: you didn’t know the number that sent it to you, and two: there was no one in your life that would be remotely close to send you this type of message.

And considering your last relationship had crashed and burned epically only two months ago, you weren’t exactly in the dating scene. Not even for casual sex, though the offer did stir something inside you.

‘Hi. I think you have the wrong number.’

You set your phone aside so you could get ready for the day and it wasn’t until you were about to head out that you grabbed it again, noticing you had another message from the unknown number.

‘Oh, thank God. I think I tried to text my ex last night while drunk and must have missed a couple of digits. I’m so sorry. Have a good day.’

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the words as you made your way to the metro station, thumb flying over the keyboard. You didn’t even know why you were replying again, but their answer was so amusing and pathetic, you couldn’t help yourself.

‘That’s why you should make sure a sober friend keeps hold of your phone when drinking.’

‘And if I’m drinking alone?’

Came the speedy reply just as you were stepping into the tube.

‘Lock it somewhere you can’t get to it.’

You were grinning to yourself like an idiot.

‘But what if I have an emergency?’

‘Well then, sucks to be you!’

You hit sent before you could even think twice then winced because the sounded so heartless. You had a very peculiar sense of humor and here you were texting a complete stranger like they were your best friend.

‘Shit! Sorry that was insensitive.’

‘Noo! It was funny. I deserved that. ‘

You sighed in relief as you stepped out of the station just a couple of blocks from your work places. This must have been one of the best mornings ever since you moved to London and all because you were texting with a stranger. You really need to get out more. Make friends. Have a social life.

‘I’m Henry.‘ The following text said. ‘Nice to meet you stranger who I texted a sex proposition while completely pissed. I’m truly sorry about that, btw.’

‘No worries, Henry. I’m Y/N.’

For the rest of the month as you and Henry text back and forth, an unlikely friendship bloomed surprisingly fast.

He was like no one else you have ever met. Funny and a little bit dorky, especially when it came to his love for fantasy books, videogames and his dog Kal. He was an amazing listener, when the two of you finally switched to phone calls.Also, only his voice was enough to make your knees weak, a deep and rich rumbling baritone that felt velvet smooth and you made sure to always have you earbuds on whenever Henry called because it felt like he was whispering straight into your ear.

How pathetic was it that you were developing a crush on a guy you have never seen? Every time your phone rang, your heart sped up like you were in a pavlovian experiment. Whenever, you saw Henry’s name flashing across the screen, warmth spread through your chest and butterflies fluttered in your belly. Whenever it wasn’t him, the disappointment weighted heavily in your heart.

“I want to meet you,” Henry declared, making you nearly drop your tea mug. You weren’t expecting that. You were eager for it, but not expecting it and now that it was out there, dread clawed inside you. “Darling? You’re still there?”

Part of you melted it at the nickname, but the insecurity was much more prominent, as you chewed on your cheek and considered what to do.

“What if you don’t like what you see?”

“Impossible,” Henry assured, and you could picture him smiling, even if you couldn’t picture his features at all. “I already know you’re the most beautiful person in the world.”

‘That’s so cheesy,” you replied but it still made you grin. “Ok.”

“Friday night, at that restaurant you’ve been talking no stop.”

“Henry, there’s like a three-weeks waiting list for it.”

“I know,” he replied confidently. “I made the reservation three weeks ago. That’s how long I’ve been dying to meet you.”

You couldn’t help but find it adorable and you found yourself nodding, the lump of emotion on your throat too tight for any words to come out.

“You’re nodding right now, aren’t you?” Henry asked, amusement lacing his voice and you chuckled.

“Yeah. And yes. I want to meet you too.”

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you felt the knot of anxiety making it harder to breath and twisting your guts, giving you permanent nausea. You thought about cancelling the entire day, but decided against it, because despite your nerves, you did want to meet Henry. You just hoped he wasn’t disappointed by what he saw.

Grabbing your bag and putting on your shoes, you stepped out of the apartment, taking a uber to the restaurant, which was packed and every step you took towards the hostess stand, it felt like your heart were about to bust out of your chest.

Her eyes lit up when you said Henry’s name, like she knew something you didn’t as she called out for one of the waiters and whispered something to him. He grinned too and you felt like you were the only one not in on the joke and it made you even more nervous.

The waiter guided you through the crowded restaurant, into a small, private nook until he paused at a table and you nearly fainted at the sight that waited for you.

Henry stood up immediately, a flitting, nervous smile adorning his features as his looked at you while you stood there too shocked to move. Henry Cavill was just there in front of you, perfect and handsome and you didn’t know what the fuck to do. Was this some sort of a joke? A prank?

“Hi.” There was a certain tremor in his voice, but it was undeniably him. You had spent the last month of your life flirting with Superman without knowing. “Please tell me you’re not about to run off.”

“I don’t think my legs would allow me to,” you confessed with a weak laugh. All it took was his voice for you to feel right at home.

“Well, better get you seated then,” he grinned, wide and relieved as he pulled the chair for you and you sat down for fear of falling.

There was a strange tension between the two of you, awkward and impossible to ignore. Part of you wanted to just close your eyes, block the sight before you to see if the weirdness would fade, but at the same time, you wanted to drink at the sight of him. He wasn’t just handsome, he was the type of gorgeous that most people would kill themselves to achieve and here you were, common like a girl next door.

“I hope you’re not disappointed,” he said with a nervous chuckle. “I thought about telling hundred times. Especially when you dissed Dawn of Justice…”

“Oh my God!” you buried your face in your hands, acutely reminded of your ten minutes rant on why the movie sucked. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

“It’s cute when you babble.” He shrugged, a shy little smile in his lips and it was strangely comforting. Henry was as nervous as you were.

“I could never be disappointed,” you confessed, reaching over the table to take his hand, squeezing lightly.

“Well, you’re even more perfect than I could’ve imagined,” he said, and you felt the flush surge on your cheeks. “I’m glad we’re here.”

“Me too.” You smiled at him never happier.

#henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #fluff drabble #slutty sunday

357 notes · View notes

maggotzombie · 4 years

Text

LIEBE LIESE: ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴠ – ℬℴ𝓎𝒻𝓇𝒾ℯ𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝒶𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒾𝒶𝓁

→ CHAPTERS LIST — CHAPTER IV: WINE AND CANDLES WORD COUNT: 5k A/N: I was supposed to post this at the beginning of the week but my creativity decided to give up on me and it just came back a couple of days ago when my will to write ran out of the door lmao.

HER GROAN echoes in the empty doctors’ lounge and she rests her forehead on the cold tabletop. Liese had barely gotten any sleep in the previous night thinking about Henry, she might as well have let him come up to her apartment.

Sierra gets into the room and chuckles at the sight of her friend. “Someone had a rough night,” She comments, taking a seat across from Liese.

She grunts again. “I haven’t slept a wink,” She replies, raising her head slowly.

“Why?” Her friend asks. “What’s keeping you up?”

Liese ponders for a second, playing with her paper cup filled with steamy coffee. “I have to tell you something,” She starts. “But you can’t tell anyone else, at least for now.”

“Okay,” Sierra nods, taking a sip of her own coffee.

“I’ve slept with Henry Cavill,” The woman blurts out, unable to keep that from her friend anymore – actually, best friend. The reaction from her is unexpected as she spits her coffee out on Liese. “Sierra!” She complains, looking at her with wide eyes.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” She says, looking at her with an apologetic face. “You did what?” She furrows her brows.

Liese looks down at the coffee staining her scrubs and shakes her head, standing up. She throws her coffee away and walks out of the doctor’s lounge, towards the locker room. Sierra follows her, eager to know more about that.

“Hold on!” She rushes after the silver-haired doctor. “How and when did this happen? Is he as big as he looks like? Is he as good as I imagine him to be? Oh my God, is his ass that amazing without clothes?” Sierra fires away.

“Dear Lord, shut up,” Liese says with an alarmed expression, looking around to see if someone heard any of it. “Don’t make me regret telling you that,” She gives her friend a pointed look before continuing walking towards the locker room.

“Why are you so worked up about this?” Her friend asks, completely confused.

“Because he’s in the public eye!” She states the obvious. “And I don’t want anyone to spread rumors on the internet that might get to gossip pages when I don’t even know what’s going on.”

“Well, when you put it in that way,” Sierra shrugs and they get into the empty locker room. “Will you tell me more about it though?”

“Yes. I was about to do just that when you spat coffee on me!” The woman says, pulling clean scrubs from her locker.

“I’m so sorry,” Her friend whines with a face. “It’s not every day that your best friend sleeps with Superman. I was shocked!” She says. “Damn, I am shocked.”

Liese chuckles, walking away. “Cmon, I’ll take a quick shower and you can stand outside the stall so I can spill the beans.”

“There isn’t anyone in here, you can start,” Sierra rushes.

“Aren’t you eager to know about that, huh?” The woman teases, looking at her friend. “Can you try to clean this up so it doesn’t stain?” She asks, stripping off her shirt.

The oncologist takes it and turns to the sink. “Of course I’m eager,” She replies. “Remember that I was the one hyping you up yesterday about exactly that?” She points out and then it clicks. “Oh my god, did you have sex with him in your office yesterday?”

“No, I did not,” Liese chuckles again as she turns the shower on.

“Hmm, I’ll pretend to believe in you,” The woman says, rinsing the coffee from Liese’s scrubs. “So, how did this happen?”

“Well, he approached me at the gala,” She starts to tell the story and her friend grins. “We started flirting, I didn’t think too much of it but then he suggested we leave and get food.”

Sierra laughs loudly. “What? Actually, this is so you, Lis,” She says, shaking her head.

“I was hungry, okay? I didn’t eat anything before going to the gala,” She defends herself. “Anyway. We went to a drive-thru and then to his house,” She pauses. “Yes, he is big. Yes, he’s good, even better than that, I’d say. Yes, his ass is very much amazing,” She answers all the questions Sierra asked previously.

“Oh my Gooood,” Her friend squeals in excitement, and Liese simply chuckles.

“But then I was drunk enough to blacked out,” Liese confesses.

“What? I thought you had sex with him!” She says with a frown.

“I had, I blacked out after it. It doesn’t even matter, because the morning sex was even better,” She points out. “If that isn’t enough for you…”

“What?” Sierra asks, interrupting her.

The woman smiles at her excitement. “He made me breakfast, asked me on a date during said breakfast, and even dropped me off at home,” She says.

Suddenly, her friend pokes her head into the shower stall with the biggest grin on her face. “I’m loving this,” She says.

Liese chuckles and shakes her head, turning off the shower, not bothered by her friend seeing her naked. “When I came back home at the end of the day, he was at my doorstep,” She continues while drying off her body.

“Yesterday?” Sierra asks, leaning against the sink again.

“No, that was Tuesday. He dropped me off home in the morning after breakfast and was waiting for me when I came back home,” The doctor explains, dressing the clean scrubs quickly. “He slept over and he was dropping off my keys when he came to the foundation yesterday,” Liese says as she steps out of the shower stall.

Her friend’s jaw is on the floor. “Seriously?”

She nods, sitting on the bench to put her shoes back on. “I went on a date with him last night,” She confesses, hugging her legs after lacing her shoes.

By now Sierra is already sitting across from her on the bench and her reaction to the last piece of information is priceless. A mix between surprise and happiness washes over her face, making Liese smile.

“Lis…” She says, unable to form a proper sentence.

“Yeah, I know,” The woman sighs. “And he’s such a gentleman, Sie. Like, seriously! He’s that kind of gentleman that only exists in old films, how’s that even possible?” She asks rhetorically. “He’s funny, smart, he’s actually interested in what I have to say and I… I really like him,” She confesses.

Her friend stares at her in silence for a few seconds. “You don’t seem very happy about that,” She points out.

“I’m just scared,” Liese confesses, her shoulders dropping. “I’m scared of getting my hopes up for something that isn’t going to move forward. You know I have this habit.”

Sierra shakes her head. “I’m going to stop you right there,” The oncologist says. “That was very different. He made promises to you, promises he never intended to fulfill but you didn’t know that. And there’s no way you could know that,” She says.

“Still,” The woman shrugs. “As I’ve said before, he’s in the public eye, he’s famous. I’m don’t know if I should expect something more serious. I mean, he’s surrounded by gorgeous women all the time,” She says and her friend gives her a dirty look as to tell her that’s bullshit. “I don’t know. The only thing I know is that I like him.”

“Oh my God! Stop overthinking!” Sierra starts. “Let things flow as they should and don’t rush into assumptions,” Her friend makes a face. “You only know the guy for three days, it was one date. Chill the fuck out,” She advises, making Liese chuckle.

“That’s why I love you,” The woman says, reaching out to hug her friend.

“One more thing,” Sierra says, holding a hand out to stop her. “If you ever keep things like that from me ever again, I’ll murder you,” She threatens.

“Okay,” Liese nods, slapping the oncologist’s hand away and wrapping her arms around her. “I love you,” She says.

“I love you, too,” Sierra replies.

“Please, don’t mention anything about that to my brothers,” She asks.

“They don’t know either?” Her friend is truly shocked.

“Gustav knows I went on a date and he probably told everyone else by now but that’s it,” She says. “He doesn’t know it was with Henry and I want my family to know as little as possible until I figure out where this is going,” She explains, fixing her bun and standing up.

“Okay,” She nods. “I want to know more about this date, though,” She adds, following Liese.

The woman turns to her with the most radiant smile. “It was amazing!” She says, closing her locker. “But you’ll have to wait till lunch to know more about it because my break is over and I need to get back to the ED.”

Sierra’s face falls. “Are you kidding me?” She asks as the doctor leaves the room.

“Nope,” She shakes her head, walking away.

The ED is quite peaceful until lunchtime which Liese both appreciates and dreads at the same time. As promised, she tells Sierra everything about her date with Henry in reach details; how amazing it’s the restaurant he took her, the delicious wine, the impeccable meal, what they’ve talked about, and even the make-out session on his car before she got into her apartment building. Her friend can’t stop squealing at what makes her excited, which is about every little detail Liese tells her.

As she dreaded, the afternoon is hell in the ED. From a rush of incoming patients three different times within five hours to dealing with bureaucracy, annoying relatives, and difficult patients, the woman develops a headache and cravings for a relaxing shower and a steamy mug of hot cocoa with marshmallows.

Her phone rings as she walks towards the tube station and she answers without checking the caller’s ID. “Hello.”

“Ah, it’s nice hearing your voice,” Henry’s baritone voice fills her ears.

“Oh, hey you,” She smiles instantly. “It’s good to hear your voice, too,” She replies, climbing down the stairs.

“What are you up to?” He asks.

“Uh, I just got off work,” Liese replies, navigating the crowd. “I’m about to take the tube,” She says. “You?”

“I’m just thinking about you,” The man is completely honest. “Can I come over? I’ll cook you dinner,” He offers.

Her smile widens. “What’s the proposal exactly?” She asks.

“How do sesame chicken and chili lime slaw sounds like?” Henry suggests.

She closes her eyes for a second, imagining it and humming at the thought of him cooking it. “In your voice? Heavenly,” The woman says. “Imagining you making it? Porn,” She adds and his laugh makes her stomach twirl with butterflies.

“So, it’s a deal?” He asks to make sure.

“Yeah, I’d love that,” Liese replies and sighs. “I’m just very tired, I might start nodding off on you,” She warns, making a face he couldn’t see.

“I don’t mind,” The man replies quickly. “As long as I can have you in my arms, it’s fine,” He adds.

She nearly swoons at his words. “Dear Lord, yes. Get your fabulous ass in my flat,” She says, making him laugh again.

“I’ll be there in a few. Can I bring Kal?” He asks and Liese can picture him raising his eyebrow.

“Oh, please do. I need a snuggle buddy,” She agrees almost immediately.

“I thought I was the snuggle buddy,” Now she’s positive he’s pouting.

She chuckles at her imagination, biting down on her lip. “You are,” Liese reassures. “But with whom I’ll snuggle with while you’re cooking?”

“That’s a valid point,” He agrees.

“I know,” The woman chuckles again. “Okay, I’ll take the train now. See you in a few.”

“Be safe,” Henry says.

“You too,” She hangs up after getting into the train car.

Needless to say, it’s packed with people as it’s the rush hour, so Liese doesn’t have anywhere to sit. This only adds to her tiredness but nothing she couldn’t handle. Soon enough, she arrives at her building and Mr. Ferris is there to greet her, as usual. She gets her mail and rushes to her apartment to have that much-needed shower.

Just as she finishes dressing up, the doorbell rings. The sound is almost foreign to her ears as she rarely has visitors but the thought of the person behind the front door makes her heartbeat increase. The woman gets to the door with a smile on her face and she is greeted by a handsome man and an overly excited puppy.

“Oh fuck,” Henry gaps at her appearance.

Liese wears thigh high stockings, cheeky panties, and a sweatshirt that’s a tad small, leaving her lower stomach on display. “Are you going to keep gawking at me from my doorstep?” She raises an eyebrow at him in amusement.

Before he could reply, Kal barks at her, drawing her attention to himself. Then, the bear dog takes the liberty to get into her apartment and jumps at her, resting his big paws on her stomach as he demands scratches.

“Hey buddy,” The woman happily scratches behind his ears. “How are you? Have you been a good boy?” She slides to the floor with Kal and he shows her his belly. “I’m sure you have.”

She proceeds to talk to the dog in German and the man simply smiles at the scene in front of him. He steps into the apartment and shuts the door behind himself, watching as Liese allows Kal to lick her face without scolding him.

If Henry wasn’t crazy about her before, now he definitely is. A woman that doesn’t mind the crazy affection his dog has to give is a catch.

He takes the liberty to put the supermarket bags on the kitchen island along with a much adorable-looking shopping bag. “Alright, my turn,” Henry says, stopping in front of the woman.

She looks up at him with a genuine smile. Kal quickly wanders off to explore the unknown apartment and Henry offers a hand to help the woman up. She accepts it right away and he pulls her up to his arms, sealing their lips together. Apparently, the innocent peck doesn’t last as long as Liese desires as she shakes her head slightly when the man starts to move away, placing an arm around his shoulders and pulling him down again.

“Unh-unh,” She hums before deepening the kiss.

Henry’s thumbs press on her hips bones and then his arms fasten around her small body, pressing her against him. He almost sighs into the kiss as her free hand brushes his cheek fondly. She pulls away slowly and her tongue runs on her now slightly swollen lips.

“Hi,” She breathes out and drops a few inches.

Just now the man realizes she was on her tiptoes. “Hey love,” He can’t stop himself from pressing his lips against hers again. “How was your day?” He asks.

Liese groans, locking both arms around his neck as his hands rest in her hips. “Stressful,” She rolls her eyes. “But it’s a hundred times better now.”

“That’s good to know,” Henry smiles. “I got you something,” He says and she furrows her brows.

“What?” The woman asks, letting go of him as he moves towards the cute shopping bag and picks it up from the island. “Why?” She chuckles.

“Because I thought of you when I saw it,” He replies, giving her the shopping bag.

“Thanks,” She says, looking at him.

Henry leans against the island and watches as she smiles, looking at the single rose sticking out of the bag. The woman gently picks it up and brings it to her nose. She glances back at him and he simply smiles at her. Then, Liese looks back down at the bag, opening it as she holds the rose in her hand.

“Aww,” Liese says, taking the fluffy teddy bear out of the bag. “He’s so adorable,” She says, holding the small stuffed toy near her face while looking at Henry.

He just keeps staring at her with a huge grin on his face and she looks back at the teddy bear.

“I’ll call him Hank,” Liese decides, getting closer to him.

“Why not Henry?” He asks, frowning slightly.

“Because that’s my other teddy bear,” She replies, circling his neck with her arms again.

The man’s eyes instantly start to scan the apartment for another teddy bear but he’s sure there isn’t any. “And where’s it?”

“Right in front of me,” Liese says, biting her lip and he laughs in realization. She then presses her lips against his. “Thank you. I love it,” She says, looking into his eyes.

“Really?” He asks, smiling at her.

“Yes, very much,” She nods, walking towards her bed. “I think my niece will try to steal it from me the next time I babysit her,” The woman chuckles, looking down at the bear, and then she makes eye contact with Kal, who’s laying on her bed like it’s a habit of his. “Oh, you make yourself quite comfortable, don’t you?” She chuckles, petting the dog.

“Kal,” Henry calls, looking at the dog from across the room. “What are you doing? Get out of there.”

“No, it’s okay,” Liese reassures, petting the dog after carefully placing Hank in the middle of her bed, against the pillows.

She turns around to the man unpacking the groceries. “So, how old is your niece?” He asks curiously.

“She’s four,” The woman replies. “How can I help?” She asks, getting back to the kitchen space.

“Just get your temporary snuggle buddy and put that fine ass of yours on the sofa,” Henry advises, giving emphasis on the word and making her chuckle. “I’ll figure things out around here, don’t worry,” He adds with a smile.

“Okay,” She says with a nod, turning to her fridge. “Can I at least pour you a pint?” She asks, taking a bottle of Guinness out of the fridge along with a can of RedBull.

“Sure,” He replies, opening her cabinets in search of pans. “Will you drink with me?”

“I’ll take a sip of yours, for sure,” Liese says, filling the pint. “But I can’t, love. I have to work early tomorrow,” She explains, the pet name rolling out of her tongue easily, without her realizing it.

But Henry catches it and he can’t help the goofy smile on his face. He stares at her in silence as she takes a sip of the beer, only realizing his gaze on her while she settles the pint down.

“What?” She asks, licking her lips.

“Nothing,” Henry shakes his head and takes the pint she’s offering him. “Do you babysit her often?” He returns to the niece subject.

“Yeah. And her brother, too,” The woman replies, cracking open a RedBull and pouring it into a glass. “Especially now that my sister-in-law had another baby. I try to take them as much as possible to give her a break,” She explains, moving away.

“How many niece and nephews do you have?” He asks while skillfully working on the chicken breasts.

“Eight,” Liese says, flipping her flat screen to face the living room space. “Four of each. How about you?” She asks, taking a seat at the sofa with the remote in her hands.

“Ten; eight nephews and two nieces,” The man replies and she makes a face.

“There are way too many men in your family,” She points out, turning the TV on. “You have no sisters and only two nieces… That’s terrible.”

Henry chuckles. “It’s not that terrible,” He says.

“For you,” She says, taking a sip from her drink. “Kal,” The woman whistles, and the dog immediately jumps off her bed, looking over at her from the corner of the shelving. “Come here, buddy,” She calls, tapping on the sofa.

He accepts the invitation right away and climbs on the sofa, quickly snuggling next to Liese. She chuckles at the pet, who doesn’t waste time in giving her a few more licks on the face as she scratches his ears.

From the kitchen space, Henry smiles. “How come you don’t have any pets?” The man asks and she looks back at him, pushing Kal to sit beside her. “You’re so good with Kal.”

“I do, actually. I have two cats at my parents’,” She replies.

“Cats?” Henry makes a face, looking up at her. “I thought you were a dog person,” He says.

“Now, there’s no such thing, okay,” She chuckles. “Cats are great, too. Unless you have allergies… But people who say they are ‘dog person’ have never spent time with a cat to know better,” Liese makes air quotes. “Have you?” She raises her eyebrow.

He chuckles before replying. “Guilty as charged.”

“See?” She laughs.

“But why are your cats at your parents’?” He asks. “They don’t allow pets in here?”

“They do,” Liese nods. “I was working a lot a while ago and wasn’t giving them the attention they deserve. So, I took them to stay with my parents for a couple of weeks and they never let me have them back,” She explains, petting Kal’s head as he rests in on her lap.

They keep chatting about anything while Henry prepares their diner, after all, they’re still getting to know each other. At some point, the man even asks if that counts as a date, and Liese confirms with a chuckle.

“Here you go,” Henry says, bringing the food dish to her on the sofa.

“Oh, my God. Are you serious?” She laughs, looking up to meet his eyes.

“Yep. The full service,” He replies as she sits upright. “Down,” He says to Kal while Liese takes the plate.

“It looks amazing,” She says and he starts to move away. “Hey,” The woman grabs his t-shirt and pulls him down for a peck on the lips. “Thank you,” She says against his lips.

“You’re welcome,” Henry presses his lips against hers one more time before moving away.

Liese puts a piece of the sesame chicken into her mouth and she can’t help but moan at the taste. “Goddamn, why?” She asks herself.

“Is there a problem?” He asks, returning to the sofa with his plate and another RedBull for her.

“Yes!” She says with an incredulous look and Henry hesitates. “You’re too perfect.”

The man immediately laughs and shakes his head, taking a seat beside her and pouring the beverage into her empty glass. “I’m not perfect,” He says, handing her the now full glass.

“I beg to differ,” Liese points to her drink and the delicious food. “This is beyond delicious,” She says.

“I’m glad you like it,” He says with a smile. “But I’m still not perfect.”

“Oh, Henry. Please!” She deadpans. “You’re awfully handsome, even better in bed,” She says without shame and he laughs. “And can cook like a chef. Why aren’t you married anyway?”

“Haven’t found the one yet,” He replies truthfully, looking at her. “You?” He asks back.

“I work a lot,” The woman says. “It’s not easy to find someone who understands,” She stuffs her mouth with food to prevent herself from saying too much.

“I get that,” Henry says and looks back at him. “Way too well, actually,” He adds.

They share a look for a few seconds and Liese’s smile widens before she looks down at her plate shyly. She then offers him another pint which he kindly declines, saying that his trainer will have his head in a silver platter if he keeps indulging himself in anything he wants to. They eat in comfortable silence and the woman thanks Henry again for the meal.

She once again points out how perfect Henry is because he didn’t leave any dirty dishes behind. All the pans, bowls, knives, and even the cutting board he used to make their meal is perfectly washed. And he doesn’t let her wash the dishes they used by herself, instead, they agree on him washing and she drying and putting it away.

Despite all the RedBull consumed, Liese can’t stifle her yawns as they watch TV in the living room and the man suggests they go to bed. After flipping the flat screen to face her bedroom again, they get into bed. She rests her head comfortably on Henry’s chest and tucks her hand into his t-shirt, caressing his torso before leaving it on his stomach. He flinched at her warm touch at first, flexing his abs, then he focuses his attention on stopping the blood flow to his cock.

Kal sat at the edge of her bed and kept staring at them until the woman allowed him to climb onto the mattress. Now he’s lying at their feet.

Even though she could barely keep her eyes open, Liese still tries to fight her sleep and the man notices it. “You know you can sleep, right love?” He says. “I don’t mind.”

“Yeah,” She replies, unable to stifle another yawn and rubbing her tired eyes slightly.

“Then why are you resisting sleep so much?” Henry asks with furred browns, trying to get a look on her face.

“I want to spend more time with you,” The woman replies honestly, raising her head to look at him.

He smiles at her answer and she smiles back at him, reaching out her hand to caress his sharp jawline. While his blue orbs don’t leave her brown ones, the woman’s eyes try to memorize every inch of his flawless face. His high cheekbones, his adorable nose, his perfectly shaped mouth, and even his long and enviable eyelashes. Her fingertips brush gently on his jaw, the short stubble tickling it.

Liese bites her bottom lip slightly as she places her thumb into the cleft of his chin, her eyes shifting back to his. “I know we know each other for only three days,” She starts, fingers still caressing his chin and jaw. “But I really like you,” She confesses.

The corners of his lips curl up in a small smile. “I really like you, too,” He says.

Now it’s her time to smile before pulling herself up to press her lips against his. One kiss leads to another which leads to Liese straddling his body before being pinned down by it while he thrusts into her slowly.

The sex is not as urgent as the other times they had it, they’re not simply seeking the amazing sensations of the release. It feels much more like they’re enjoying each other’s company and trying to memorize each other’s sweet spots.

Henry is not offended nor bothered by the fact that she is fast asleep as soon as her head rests on his chest again. Her naked body – well, almost completely as he left the stockings on while undressing her – is pressed against his, one leg throw above his, and the warmth of her body is very soothing.

As his fingertips brush soothingly along her spine, the man wonders if a relationship with Liese will be possible and, if so, how is going to be like when he’s away because that has been the kryptonite of all his past relationships.

Kal, who got annoyed with all the fussing happening on the mattress half an hour ago and left, interrupts his thoughts as he jumps back onto the bed. The dog makes himself comfortable beside the woman and rests his head in the middle of her back, where Henry could reach to pet him.

“You like her, right bear?” He asks the dog who stares at him. “Me too, buddy. Me too.”

It doesn’t take too much time for the man to fall asleep too. In the middle of the night, Liese wakes up with the TV shining way too bright. The remote is nowhere to be found, probably on the sofa, so she’s forced to leave the comfort of Henry’s arms and turn it off.

She smiles at his adorable sleeping form and caresses the bear dog before standing up. She dresses her clothes again, turns off the TV, and then drinks two glasses of water to ease her thirst before going back to bed.

Immediately after laying down with her back turned to the man, he drapes his arm around her, pulling her against his chest and inhaling the scent of her hair. Liese smiles at that and even more when Kal decides to reposition himself into her arms.

In the morning, she wakes up before her alarm, feeling well-rested. Well, how could she not? So, the woman turns off the alarm to not wake up the sleeping actor laying beside her and turns around to admire his beauty until she couldn’t be in bed anymore.

Carefully to not disturb Henry, she gets up and pets Kal. Without making a sound, she gets into her bathroom and starts to get ready for work.

While she intended to let the man sleep as much as he wants to, his dog doesn’t share the same intentions. As she exits the bathroom, drying her hair with a towel, Kal is standing on the bed near Henry, nudging his face with his snout while whining.

“No, Kal,” She whispers, trying to shush the dog away. “Don’t…” She says but then she sees the man stirring awake. “You’re a bad boy after all, huh?” She gives him a look.

“Alright, bear. I’m awake,” Henry says to the dog, voice hoarse from sleeping, and Kal licks his face. “Were you planning on leaving me here sleeping again?” Henry asks her as he pushes his pet away.

“Yes, I was,” The woman replies.

“Then, good boy,” He says to Kal.

Liese shakes her head and crawls on the bed towards him, pressing her lips against his. “Good morning,” She says, looking down at him.

“Oh yes, it’s very good like this,” The man agrees and she chuckles as he pulls her face down again. “What time is it?” He asks as she moves away.

“Seven something,” She replies, getting into her closet.

“Where are you working today?” Henry yawns, rubbing the sleep off of his eyes.

“At St. Thomas’,” Her voice travels back to him as he gets up from the bed and starts to get dressed.

He checks the exact time on his phone before shoving it into his pocket. “Can I drop you off?” He asks, putting his shirt on.

Liese emerges from the closet dressed in jeans and a long sleeve shirt. “You don’t have to,” She says. “It’s the opposite way of your house,” Liese adds.

“But I want to,” He insists, getting into her bathroom. As he flushes the toilet, the woman gets into the bathroom with him. “And we can get breakfast on the way,” He suggests, hugging her from behind and kissing her neck as she plugs her hairdryer.

“Okay,” The woman smiles, turning around to peck his lips. “You don’t have to give me these puppy eyes. It’s your gas you’re wasting,” She points out, handing him a new toothbrush.

Henry smiles widely, opening the packaging and wetting the toothbrush. “And I’ll gladly drive you around,” He replies, watching her start to dry her hair as he brushes his teeth.

Liese only chuckles and shakes her head slightly.

* * *

— CHAPTER VI: UNDER PREASSURE

78 notes · View notes

monotonous-minutia · 4 years

Text

Cendrillon (Met 2018)

Started last night, fell asleep halfway through (it was a weird day), the post somehow survived without being saved and here we are.

I wonder if there are any spoilers on the walls.

POWER TO THE TROUSER ROLES mezzos rule (I know that’s not what he meant but given there’s a trouser mezzo in this opera I can’t help but wonder if it’s a pun)

second time I’ve seen her as Cinderella and so far Massenet’s is more depressing than Rossini’s

okay this is a bit trippy

I love her so much

those horses area liiiiittle creepy

Prince is sassy

okay that ballet or whatever was super weird and a little disturbing tbh

and it’s just going to keep getting weirder isn’t it

he’s having it about as much as I am

now things are happening very quickly also I’m getting a lot of Greek Chorus vibes from this piece

what am i supposed to focus on i can’t keep my eyes off either of these two i think my head is going to explode

yeah definitely more depressing also subtitles please quit it with the question marks, this is week 16 you should have it figured out by now

the choreography just keeps getting weirder but Kim was made for this role so I can forgive it I suppose

wait what

but apparently you don’t get a name

hello goodbye i’m dead

so wait that WASN’T the happy ending?

oh dang well that happened also what is it with these French bass-baritone dads that just stand there while their children lie dying on the ground

cause of death two mezzos being insanely adorable and in love

sure mom, sure

I mean you had me going there for a while also Lucette’s smile ahhh

meta af

come on cowards let your mezzos kiss onstage

I still love her despite her unexpected moral ambiguity

This was my first time with this opera and it was very interesting. A lot of unexpected twists and turns and very depressing at points; it’s been a while since I’ve read the original original fairy tale so I’m not sure if it’s going for greater accuracy or if Henri Cain likes torturing audiences or if Massent’s music just lends itself best to depressing (the only other operas of his I’ve seen/heard are Thaïs and Werther so).

The fact that the Prince is a mezzo though sold me 1000% because, well, you know me...

I kinda want to talk to the choreographer to see what exactly was going through their mind with this production because the dance sequences were super weird and (as mentioned above) a little disturbing...like at one point it insinuated that they ate the Prince...which...how does one come up with that, let alone have the place of mind to pull it off...

the set was interesting though, with all the text on the walls from the story. It really lent itself well to the surreal sound of the music (which was fantastic at evoking the fairy tale feel) and the strange, extremely flowery libretto. The costumes for the supers were pretty Extra and I get they were going for a comic feeling but it was kind of distracting and didn’t really suit the more somber feel of this piece.

even if the production had been terrible though it still would have been worth it because this cast was phenomenal. Like a production with just one of them would have sold me but ALL FOUR IN ONE PLACE like seriously it was a diva awesomeness overload and that might have been part of the reason I couldn’t finish it in one sitting.

For one thing, Joyce DiDonato pretty much owns the role of Cinderella now in any incarnation and it may be my personal opinion or it could be fact, who knows. I can’t get over how amazing and versatile she is and that voice and her face and she’s so cute and her acting is on point and her expressions and her chemistry with the other performers and and and ahhhhhhhhhhhh she pulled off the smol sweet fragile tiny adorable sad selfless spritely little Cinderella so well and I died.

Kathleen Kim as the Fairy Godmother was a stroke of genius. She was so PRETTY and her voice matches the character perfectly and all her little quirks and expressions really portrayed the depth of this character who was a very surprising incarnation. She’s not the totally sweet, altruistic fairy that we’re used to. Idk what her whole plan was, or her motives, of if it’s just a French Opera Thing that everything has to be more complicated and it’s not complete if all the heroes aren’t at the brink of death at some point, but whatever the reasoning, Kim OWNED it and despite my initial disbelief at the unexpected twist she convinced me. I don’t think just anyone could pull that off. Kim is something special.

I haven’t seen her in as many things but imo Alice Coote is one of the best trouser mezzos. I don’t really get into gendered appearances or ways of moving around because gender is fluid and not binary etc. etc. but for the sake of storytelling and character portrayals DANG (WO)MAN she nails it to the point that if I see her in an interview or something offstage I invariably think “Oh, what, she’s not actually a boy” ALSO she is just EXTREMELY cute and sassy and I love her expressions and pretty much everything about her so yeah. Also I can’t express my nerdy happiness that the two leads are mezzos. But also frustration because excuse me, it’s not a fairy tale if the prince and princess don’t kiss at the end, that’s like the whole point, and I’m pretty sure if he’d been a tenor they’d let it happen, but god forbid we get the tiniest bit of gay onstage.

And Stephanie Blythe--I keep seeing her in all these incredibly different roles and keep thinking at some point she’s not going to be able to pull it off because they’re all so different and then I keep getting more impressed because she does pull it off and then I feel bad for doubting her. This evil stepmother also had a surprising ending and I couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be funny or ironic or maybe both, but, like Kim, Blythe was excellent at capturing the ambiguity.

sooooo anyway that’s me nerding out about my divas and I’d give the production 3/5 probably, points taken for the weird costumes and disturbing ballet sequences and not letting the ladies kiss onstage. But the cast gets 100/5 because, well, if you got this far you know why.

26 notes · View notes

opera-simplified · 4 years

Text

Opera Simplified #3: Benvenuto Cellini

Benvenuto Cellini

Opera Simplified #3

The Basics:

Music: Hector Berlioz

Libretto: Henri Auguste Barbier and Léon de Wailly

Premiere: September 10, 1838; Salle le Peletier, Paris, France

Based on [very loosely]: Vita (Life), Benvenuto Cellini’s autobiography

Setting: Rome, the final days of Carnival, 1532

Characters:

Benvenuto Cellini, a goldsmith and sculptor—tenor

Teresa Balducci, his girlfriend—soprano

Fieramosca, her fiancé and the Pope’s official sculptor—baritone**

Giacomo Balducci, her father and the Pope’s treasurer—bass-baritone

Ascanio, Cellini’s apprentice—mezzo-soprano

Pope Clément VII, duh, the boss of the Roman Catholic Church—bass*

Francesco, one of Cellini’s assistants—tenor

Bernardino, another of Cellini’s assistants—bass

Pompeo, a swordsman and Fieramosca’s friend—baritone**

A Tavern Owner—tenor

A player in Cassandro’s troupe acting as Colombine—spoken

Requested by: @monotonous-minutia (once again, thank you both for enthusiastically reading this over and for making some of the videos featured in this Opera Simplified!)

*The Paris Opéra would not allow the Pope to be portrayed onstage for the premiere, so the character became Cardinal Salvati, although his music and function in the story remained identical. However, as it should be, virtually all available performances and recordings revert to the Pope, so as such (and according to Berlioz’s intentions), I will revert as well.

**Fieramosca and Pompeo were both originally intended to be played by tenors (according to the cast list given in the Bärenreiter critical edition), but they are universally played by baritones.

Additional Notes Before We Go: There are three versions of this opera: the first version (which I will call 1838 Original version) was the version that Berlioz initially presented to the Paris Opéra; the second (which I will call 1838 Premiere version) was the score actually performed in the initial run (which flopped) after cuts and censorship; the third version, which premiered in 1852 in the city of Weimar (thus it being called the Weimar version), had other cuts and more rearranging of sections in Act II.

In an attempt to follow both Berlioz’s intentions and modern performance/recording practice, this Opera Simplified will mostly follow the 1838 Original version, albeit with some elements from other versions. Those elements will be discussed by scene in the notes.

Also: Berlioz did envision the opera with spoken dialogue; recordings are split on the issue, although only one of the five productions I have watched uses spoken dialogue.

Finally, thanks to my university’s Fine Arts Library for having a very diverse collection of opera scores, including a Bärenreiter critical edition vocal-piano score of Benvenuto Cellini, which I consulted while researching and writing this Opera Simplified.

The Opera:

Benvenuto Cellini overture

Roman Carnival Overture (not to be confused with the opera’s actual overture (given above), although this uses two very lovely tunes from Act I of the opera)

Act I:

Scene 1:

Sunset on Shrove Monday, inside the Balducci house. At left is a table with two chairs. There are two doors, one on the left and one at the back. There is also a window at the right, where Teresa is standing and watching the Carnival revellers. Balducci enters, having just gotten dressed.

Balducci: Teresa!

*Crickets.*

Teresa! Where is she?

*Ditto.*

TERESA!

*Ditto.*

TERESA I’M NOT CALLING YOU AGAIN GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW WHERE ARE YOU

*Ditto, but this time he sees her.*

TERESA I SPECIFICALLY TOLD YOU THAT YOU WEREN’T ALLOWED TO BE BY THE WINDOW ARE YOU DEAF

*Teresa reluctantly leaves the window.*

Fine time for daydreaming; I’ve been calling you for FOREVER! Look, the Pope’s waiting for me, could you be a nice daughter and get me my stuff? My walking stick, my gloves, my dagger, that collection of papers…?

*She hands him each in turn.*

Ugh, I can’t BELIEVE that the Pope is making me come in all the time, especially this late, every morning, every night it’s always “BALDUCCI WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE SCULPTURE COMMISSION WITH CELLINI BLAH BLAH BLAH” and it’s EXHAUSTING. I mean, not to question the Pope or anything because that would be bad and sacrilegious and all, but the Pope has Fieramosca, who is not only a perfectly good sculptor and future son-in-law but also the official papal sculptor anyway, so why is he getting some lazy libertine metalworker from Florence, of all places, to make this sculpture? **

*He leaves, grumbling.*

Teresa: FINALLY HE’S LEAVING

*Balducci immediately returns.*

YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME

Balducci: Just to make sure that nothing happens while I’m gone, lemme give you a Quick Fatherly Lecture™ because of course that will be effective! Come here and listen closely. ***

WELL, YA GOT TROUBLE, MY CHILD, RIGHT HERE I SAY YA GOT TROUBLE RIGHT HERE IN THE ETERNAL CITY—shoot where was I going with this okay start over

NEVER LOOK AT THE MOON EVER BECAUSE LOOKING AT THE MOON IS THE LITTLE SEEMINGLY INNOCENT STEP THAT LEADS TO LIVES BEING RUINED AND YOU’LL NEVER BE ABLE TO SLEEP AGAIN BECAUSE YOU’LL BE TOO BUSY HAVING CATHOLIC GUILT AND REGRETTING ALL YOUR LIFE CHOICES YOU COQUETTISH GIRLS NEED TO WATCH YOUR HEARTS AND KEEP THEM PURE AND ALL THE OTHER STUFF YOU SHOULD’VE LEARNED AT SUNDAY SCHOOL AND THE WORLD IS A CRAZY, BAD PLACE ALSO YOU SHOULD ALWAYS WEAR A MASK (not just because masks help save lives during pandemics although that’s not the kind of mask I’m talking about at this moment) ALSO MEN ARE HIDEOUS AND APPEARANCES ARE DECEIVING AND UH THERE ARE A LOT OF DEMONS OUT THERE I GUESS SO WATCH OUT

*He leaves again. Teresa watches to make sure he is absolutely gone.*

Teresa: OKAY HE’S LEAVING FOR REAL THIS TIME

First off, that lecture made no sense whatsoever; second off, that was, like, literally torture or martyrdom or something; third off, I’m so relieved! I can breathe and relax and not worry again!

Cellini, Francesco, Bernardino, and Their Fellow Revellers: *outside, in the street* TRALALALALALA DE PROFUNDIS SOMETHING SOMETHING CARNIVAL WILL BURY SOMEONE TONIGHT TRALALALA ALL YOU FELLOW YOUNG ONES LIVE WELL AND NO MATTER WHO YOU ARE STOP CRYING AND ENJOY LIFE AND DRINK TO LUNDI GRAS AND TO CARNIVAL VIVA CARNIVAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL

*Yet again, Balducci returns.*

Balducci: WHERE’S ALL THIS RACKET COMING FROM

Teresa: uggggggggggggggggggh not again hey Dad aren’t you supposed to be going to a meeting with the Pope

Balducci: I KNOW oh great all this noise is right outside I need to speak to whoever the noise control manager is I’M PRETTY SURE CELLINI AND HIS WILD CROWD IS MAKING ALL THIS NOISE TERESA AVOID ALL OF THEM AT ALL COSTS

*Cellini and his buddies throw what appears to be white confetti up through the window; they are actually white plaster pellets, which leave white dust all over Balducci.*

ARE YOU KIDDING ME I JUST GOT THIS NICE NEW OUTFIT AND THEY HAVE TO GO AND RUIN IT RIGHT BEFORE I’M SUPPOSED TO MEET WITH THE POPE IT’S TOO LATE TO CHANGE NOW SO I GUESS I’LL JUST HAVE TO GO LOOKING LIKE THIS YOU DAMN TUSCAN BOY I’LL HAVE MY REVENGE ON YOU SOMEDAY

Cellini, Francesco, Bernardino, and Their Fellow Revellers: LONG LIVE JOY LET’S BE HAPPY BECAUSE GOD GAVE US HAPPINESS AND LIFE SO LET’S NOT CRY AND INSTEAD JUST BE HAPPY

Teresa: BAHAHAHAHAHAHA DAD YOU LOOK LIKE A LEOPARD OR SOMETHING

Balducci: YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY DON’T YOU WELL IT ISN’T AND IN ANY CASE I DO LOOK LIKE A LEOPARD AND I HATE IT

*Teresa approaches the window and is immediately showered with flowers.*

TO THINK THAT OAF COULD EVER BE MY SON-IN-LAW I MEAN SERIOUSLY I WOULD RATHER BE HANGED THAN LET CELLINI MARRY YOU A CURSE ON THIS LAZY LIBERTINE FLORENTINE

Teresa: WELL DAD GET USED TO IT BECAUSE SOMEDAY HE’S GONNA BE YOUR SON-IN-LAW BECAUSE I’M GONNA MARRY HIM BECAUSE I’M COLOMBINE AND HE’S LÉANDRE AND WE’RE IN LOVE AND MEANT TO BE

I mean, me the wife of Cassandro? Could you imagine? A CURSE ON THE GUY YOU WANT ME TO MARRY ****

Cellini, Francesco, Bernardino, and Their Fellow Revellers: TRALALALALALA DE PROFUNDIS SOMETHING SOMETHING CARNIVAL WILL BURY SOMEONE TONIGHT TRALALALA ALL YOU FELLOW YOUNG ONES LIVE WELL AND NO MATTER WHO YOU ARE STOP CRYING AND ENJOY LIFE AND DRINK TO LUNDI GRAS AND TO CARNIVAL VIVA CARNIVAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL

*Balducci leaves again.*

Teresa: Third time’s the charm...third time’s the charm...third time’s the charm…

*Balducci has truly left.*

FINALLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh, these are all such pretty flowers, I can’t believe they threw all of these up here just for me...

*She sees a bouquet among all the flowers scattered around.*

Ooh, this is a lovely bouquet!

*She picks it up and a note falls out.*

A note? From Cellini! Oh goodness, bold as always like that, but honestly I kinda like it.

*She opens it.*

What?! He’s coming here, tonight, for a date?! My God! Well, my dad isn’t here and he’ll be busy for a while, so this is the perfect time! What to do now…?

When you’re torn between love and duty, you have a lot of problems and angst you just want to complain about to everyone but you can’t because no one will listen to you and everyone will judge you and it really sucks. It especially sucks because you have to fear what you desire and you can’t even hope for anything good in this world. I mean, how are you supposed to pretend that you don’t feel what your heart feels and that you’re not looking at what your eyes see? Life sometimes...well, you know what? I’m not having it!

Dad, I love you, and maybe when I’m as old as you I’ll be smarter and sadder and wiser and all that, but I’m young! I’ve got my whole life ahead of me, just waiting for me to live it to the fullest! It would be such a waste to be dull and unhappy!

Someday I’ll be old, and I don’t know, be a grandma maybe, and then it’ll be fine! Love won’t matter then! But I’m young now, and I’ve got my whole life ahead of me, and I want to live it while it’s still there! *****

*Cellini enters.*

CELLINI!

*She moves a little away.*

Cellini: Teresa, it’s alright! Don’t run away!

Teresa: Cellini, I love you but I’m not sure this is gonna work.

Cellini: You’re killin’ me here!

*Noise from outside.*

Teresa: WHAT WAS THAT

Cellini: It’s fine, I promise—

Teresa: NO I’M DONE FOR AND YOU NEED TO LEAVE BECAUSE MY DAD’S PROBABLY BACK AGAIN

Cellini: No, it’s just my friends celebrating Carnival outside. I promise. It’ll be okay, don’t worry.

Oh, Teresa, you are my happiness and I love you more than life itself! I’ve learned that if I’m far away from you, I lose all hope and happiness!

*Fieramosca, who has somehow gotten into the house unnoticed, tiptoes in while holding an enormous bouquet.*

Fieramosca: You don’t win girls by breaking locks and being all macho and stuff like that; you simply sneak in on tiptoe and that’s how you steal their hearts! I mean, I guess that’s how it works.

Teresa: I love you but this is crazy! Part of me just wants to abandon all of this but a part of me deep down knows we can never see each other again…

Fieramosca: She’s not alone! I thought her dad was leaving but maybe he’s actually here? No, wait, that can’t be him—oh, I can’t believe she’s alone with another guy!

Cellini: NO I SWEAR BY ALL THE SAINTS AND THE VIRGIN THAT LOVE WILL NEVER ABANDON YOU TO FIERAMOSCA

Fieramosca: OH MY GOD IT’S CELLINI I NEED TO HIDE

Cellini: I’M NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWN NEVER GONNA RUN AROUND AND DESERT YOU NEVER GONNA MAKE YOU CRY NEVER GONNA SAY GOODBYE NEVER GONNA TELL A LIE AND HURT YOU

Fieramosca: *who is now hiding...somewhere* at least pick a good song, dammit ******

Teresa: MAY MY PATRON SAINT SAVE ME FROM THE DISASTER AND SHAME OF HAVING TO MARRY FIERAMOSCA ALSO IF I HAVE TO MARRY HIM I’LL DIE

Fieramosca: ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh if only I could speak aloud or even whisper a word so they could hear me

Cellini: If I have to leave you, my life, my love, I’ll lose all hope…

Teresa: I really don’t know if this’ll work out...I want it to, but I’ll probably never be able to see you again…

Cellini: You marry FIERAMOSCA?! They want you to marry that stupid little such-and-such?!

Teresa: Me?! His WIFE?! I’D RATHER DIE THE CRUELLEST POSSIBLE DEATH A HUNDRED TIMES THAN MARRY HIM

Fieramosca: ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh if only I had my sword instead of this stupid bouquet because obviously I didn’t bring both because obviously you can’t bring both

Cellini: CHILL honey don’t go straight to dying seriously why is that every young soprano’s go-to instead let’s plan to find a way to happiness!

Teresa: And your idea is…?

Fieramosca: if only I had my sword

Cellini: ALRIGHT THEN LISTEN UP

Teresa: shhhhhhh speak more softly what if someone hears us

Cellini: well there��s no one else here but I’ll speak more softly for you

Teresa: good point about no one else being here but thanks

Cellini: So tomorrow evening, Mardi Gras celebrations—

Teresa: Tomorrow evening, at Mardi Gras—

Fieramosca: Mardi Gras?

Cellini: Don’t miss the celebration; be there at the Piazza Colonna—

Fieramosca: what are they saying I can’t hear them well

Teresa: Piazza Colonna—

Fieramosca: ohhhhhhhhhh I think they said Piazza Colonna—

Cellini: where Cassandro—

Teresa: Cassandro—

Fieramosca: Cassandro?

Cellini: Is presenting a new show—

Fieramosca: wait what I didn’t hear about that I didn’t know they were doing a new show

Cellini: While your dad is watching the show, you’ll take the arm of a monk in brown—

Teresa: the arm of a monk in brown—

Fieramosca: I didn’t catch like any of that

Cellini: and one in white—

Teresa: one in white—

Fieramosca: white?

Cellini: One will be your lover—

Teresa: You!

Fieramosca: Him?

Cellini: And the other, my apprentice—

Teresa: Your apprentice—

Fieramosca: His apprentice?

Cellini: I’ll take you away—

Teresa: You’ll take me away—

Fieramosca: wait what

Cellini: to Florence—

Teresa: To Florence!

Fieramosca: Florence?

Cellini and Teresa: We’ll go to Florence together and get married and be happy for the rest of our lives!

Fieramosca: wait WHAT

Teresa: Wait, but what about my dad? I can’t just leave him—and also isn’t this kinda an offense against God?

Cellini: What? Teresa, that’s just your Intense Catholic Guilt™ again. If anyone’s offending God around here, it’s your father because he wants to rob you of all your life and love by putting you in a convent or even worse, marrying you off to Fieramosca!

Teresa: NOT FIERAMOSCA NO I’M NOT MARRYING HIM

Fieramosca: ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh if only Balducci were here to see this

Teresa: WHO AM I KIDDING I CAN’T BEAR THE THOUGHT OF MARRYING HIM ALRIGHT I’LL DO THIS TAKE HEART WE’LL BE HAPPY TOMORROW EVENING

Cellini: Should we go over all the details of the plan again?

Teresa: YES!

Cellini: More softly, remember, Teresa, more softly like you said…

*Fieramosca moves closer in order to hear better.*

Tomorrow evening, at the Mardi Gras celebrations—

Teresa: Tomorrow evening, at Mardi Gras—

Cellini: Don’t miss the celebration—

Teresa: I won’t miss it—

Fieramosca: I most certainly won’t miss it—

Cellini: be there at the Piazza Colonna—

Teresa: Piazza Colonna—

Fieramosca: Piazza Colonna—

Cellini: where Cassandro—

Teresa: Cassandro—

Fieramosca: Cassandro—

Cellini: Is presenting a new show—

Teresa: A new show—

Fieramosca: A new show—

Cellini: While your dad is watching the show, you’ll take the arm of a monk in brown—

Teresa: the arm of a monk in brown—

Fieramosca: the arm of a monk in brown—

Cellini: and one in white—

Teresa: one in white—

Fieramosca: and one in white—

Cellini: One will be your lover—

Teresa: You!

Fieramosca: Him?

Teresa: Got it.

Cellini: And the other, my apprentice—

Teresa: Your apprentice—

Fieramosca: His apprentice!

Cellini: I’ll take you away—

Teresa: You’ll take me away—

Fieramosca: He’ll take her away! Well!

Cellini: to Florence—

Teresa: To Florence!

Fieramosca: To Florence!

Cellini and Teresa: We’ll go to Florence together and get married and be happy for the rest of our lives!

Fieramosca: THEY’LL GO TO FLORENCE TOGETHER AND GET MARRIED AND BE HAPPY FOR THE REST OF THEIR LIVES?!

Cellini: A beautiful promise! Teresa, I adore you! Love, protect her and let her make it tomorrow…

Fieramosca: YOU’RE BETRAYING ME BEWARE

Teresa: Holy Virgin, forgive me and calm my father and his anger!

Cellini and Teresa: WE’RE BOTH YOUNG AND HAPPY AND FULL OF LOVE SO WE SHOULDN’T BE RESORTING TO DEATH TO SOLVE OUR PROBLEMS ESPECIALLY NOT WHEN WE HAVE A HAPPY FUTURE ALREADY WITHIN REACH SO LET’S LEAVE THIS CITY AND FIND HAPPINESS UNDER OTHER SKIES AND HAVE HOPE AND GO TO FLORENCE

Fieramosca: YOU TRAITORS BEWARE BECAUSE I HAVE STANDARD BARITONE HATRED AND RAGE AND I WILL USE IT TO RUIN YOUR PRECIOUS LITTLE PLANS SO BEWARE

Cellini, Teresa, and Fieramosca: Tomorrow evening!

Cellini: Piazza Colonna—

Teresa: Shh!

Cellini: Near Cassandro’s theater—

Teresa: Shh!

Cellini: A monk in white—

Teresa: Yes, I’ll be there!

Fieramosca: Well then, I’ll be there too!

Cellini and Teresa: Take heart and have hope!

Cellini, Teresa, and Fieramosca: Tomorrow evening!

*Teresa hears footsteps and looks outside.*

Teresa: OH SHOOT OH SHOOT IT’S MY DAD WE’RE DONE FOR

Cellini: Are you sure?

Teresa: HE’S RIGHT OUTSIDE

Fieramosca: obviously the best solution to this problem is to hide in my fiancée’s bedroom

*Which he does.*

Cellini: Where should I go? Your bedroom?...

Teresa: NO THERE’S NOT ENOUGH TIME FOR YOU TO MAKE IT IN THERE

Cellini: He’s coming...

Teresa: GOD HELP US

*Cellini quickly flattens himself against the wall by the door. Balducci opens the door; he is shocked to see Teresa and forgets to close it, allowing Cellini to hide between the door and the wall.*

Balducci: You’re still up? It’s really late; I thought you would be in bed by now!

Teresa: *trying to improv and pointing to her bedroom* Dad...there’s a man in there…

Balducci: A MAN?!?!

Teresa: Uh, yeah...when I went to go to bed...I heard a strange noise in there...it sounded like a man…

Balducci: A MAN?!?! I’M GONNA GO BEAT THE LIVING CRAP OUT OF WHATEVER HORRIBLE MAN DARES COME HERE AND ENTER MY DAUGHTER’S BEDROOM

*He runs into Teresa’s bedroom. Cellini comes out from his hiding place.*

Teresa: Go while I’ve bought you some time!

Cellini: Thank you, my love! See you tomorrow evening!

Teresa: See you then!

*Cellini leaves.*

Teresa: Oh, boy, I’m afraid this won’t go well.

Balducci: *from Teresa’s room* YOU BASTARD I’VE FOUND YOU

Teresa: Wait, there’s actually a man in my bedroom? Well, that’s convenient.

*Balducci drags Fieramosca, who is still holding his bouquet, out of the bedroom.*

Balducci: COME WITH ME OR ELSE I’LL KILL YOU

*He recognizes Fieramosca.*

What? You, Fieramosca?

Teresa: BAHAHAHAHA WHAT AN UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENT

Fieramosca: First off, I wasn’t trying to rob you—

Balducci: THIS IS MUCH WORSE THAN THAT ALSO WHAT WERE YOU DOING IN MY DAUGHTER’S BEDROOM

Teresa: YEAH WHAT WERE YOU DOING IN MY BEDROOM

Fieramosca: Uh, well, it’s very simple, really...I came…

Balducci: YEAH I KNOW THAT

Fieramosca: I...I was coming just to visit.

Balducci: ‘I was coming just to visit!’ A visit, late at night, when I’m not here, HIDING IN MY DAUGHTER’S BEDROOM YOU HORRIBLE PERSON

Teresa: EXCUSE ME IT COULD HAVE LOOKED SO BAD THAT I WOULD HAVE BEEN EXCOMMUNICATED

Fieramosca: ...I’m pretty sure that that’s not how excommunication works.

Teresa: WHAT AUDACITY

Fieramosca: I swear, it’s not what it looks like—

Balducci: THAT’S WHAT THEY ALL SAY

Fieramosca: But Mr. Balducci, sir, I swear—

Balducci: THE FACTS SPEAK FOR THEMSELVES

Fieramosca: My God, you think I would be the one to do such a thing?

Balducci: Well, who else, you horrible person?

Teresa: (You traitor!)

Fieramosca: IT’S CELLINI

Teresa: CELLINI???

Balducci: CELLINI?!?!

Fieramosca: CELLINI!!!

Balducci: You call yourself Cellini! Have you lost your mind?

Fieramosca: No, no, WAIT!!!

Balducci: ENOUGH OF THIS

*He opens the window and starts yelling. Teresa also sticks her head outside and starts yelling.*

Teresa and Balducci: HEY EVERYONE GAETANA CATARINA FORNARINA PETRONILLA SCHOLASTICA AND EVERY OTHER NAME IN THE BABY BOOK COME HERE

Fieramosca: PLEASE STOP MAKING SUCH A HUGE RACKET

*Teresa runs out the back door to call for help.*

Neighbors: *offstage* UGGGGGGGGH WHY ARE YOU NEIGHBORS FIGHTING AND MAKING SO MUCH NOISE

Balducci: A LIBERTINE IS IN MY HOUSE HE WAS HIDING IN MY DAUGHTER’S BEDROOM HELP US TEACH HIM A LESSON AND GET HIM OUT OF HERE

Neighbors: OH THAT’S A DIFFERENT STORY

Fieramosca: I’M NOT A LIBERTINE I’M A GOOD UPSTANDING PERSON PLEASE LISTEN TO ME THIS IS HIGHLY EMBARRASSING

*Balducci goes away from the window and Teresa returns.*

Teresa and Balducci: Fieramosca, you’re in good hands.

Fieramosca: THIS ISN’T AN ALLSTATE COMMERCIAL AND THIS ISN’T FUNNY

Teresa and Balducci: What’s Allstate? Oh, never mind.

Balducci: ONLY WOMEN CAN SHOW THE RIGHT WAY TO EXTRAVAGANT MEN LIKE YOURSELF

Fieramosca: Left to the mercy of women!...NO THIS IS HORRIBLE I FEEL LIKE I’M ORPHEUS BEING TORN APART BY THE BACCHANATES *******

*He tries to escape in one direction but is blocked by a large crowd of women armed with household objects.*

Neighbors: WE’RE GONNA TEACH YOU LIBERTINE A LESSON BECAUSE YOU’RE MESSING WITH A WOMAN’S HONOR SO YOU’RE GONNA TAKE A VERY UNPLEASANT BATH

*Fieramosca tries to escape in another direction but the same thing happens with a different crowd of women.*

Fieramosca: I just came here to have a good time and I honestly am feeling so attacked right now :(

Neighbors: LET’S TAKE HIM INTO THE GARDEN AND DUNK HIM IN THE HUGE FOUNTAIN YOU COWARD YOU’RE GONNA TAKE A BATH

*The same thing happens with a third crowd.*

YOU WRETCHED HONORLESS COWARD YOU’RE GONNA TAKE A BIG BATH IN THAT FOUNTAIN AND THE POND AND WE’RE GONNA LEAVE YOU THERE UNTIL MORNING YES YOU’RE GONNA BE IN THERE ALL NIGHT AND THERE’S NOTHING THAT YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU CRY LIKE THE LITTLE BABY YOU ARE

Teresa and Balducci: YEAH BEAT HIM UP AND DUNK HIM IN THE FOUNTAIN SO HE CAN LEARN A LESSON THAT HE WILL NEVER FORGET

Fieramosca: YOU SHREWS WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME I REALLY DON’T WANT TO BE STRIPPED NAKED AND DUNKED INTO THE WATER AND LEFT THERE ALL NIGHT I REALLY NEED TO GET OUT OF THIS SITUATION

*He starts running around trying to find a means of escape.*

I’M ORPHEUS AND I’M BEING TORN APART BY THE BACCHANTES HOW DARE THEY TREAT ME LIKE I’M A LIBERTINE I SWEAR I’M A MAN OF HONOR AND I REALLY JUST NEED TO RUN AWAY

*Exit, hurriedly, pursued by the neighbors. Not quite as terrifying as a bear, but close. [We later find out that they successfully caught him and dunked him in the fountain anyway.]*

Notes

Scene 2:

Evening, Mardi Gras. A tavern on the corner of the Piazza Colonna and the Via del Corso, with a view of Cassandro’s theater. Cellini is alone.

Cellini: Teresa will be here, at the Piazza Colonna, in only one more hour! Love, on this joyous day of Mardi Gras, let my heart be the happiest of them all! And if you don’t, ah, you are ungrateful!

I used to only care about glory, the kind of crazy noble hope that only artists have, but that’s all changed now and I reject it all; Teresa alone rules my heart! Love, see what I’ve done and how I’ve changed for you: protect her and protect me!

Teresa once lived so peacefully—like a stream flowing by far from the sea, her days and years passed by, one after the other, all the same, as they were supposed to. But she loves me enough that she’s willing to give that security up, and not only that, she wants to take up my life of wandering and misery instead, just because she loves me! Love, see what she does for you: protect her and protect me! **

*Francesco, Bernardino, and a bunch of Cellini’s friends and fellow goldsmiths enter, fully ready to party.*

Everyone: ALRIGHT EVERYONE LET’S GET WASTED (or not but whatevs we just want to drink)

Bernardino: TRALALALALALALALALA I AM AN EXCELLENT SINGER TRALALALALALALA LET’S ALL SING TRALALALALALALALALA

Cellini: Very well, but for the love of everything holy, please don’t sing any of those lowbrow drinking songs or ballads about sweethearts that EVERYONE sings in taverns. Let’s sing about how awesome metalworking is—a toast to our glory!

Everyone: THE EARTH MAY GROW AWESOME STUFF ON THE SURFACE WHEN THE WEATHER IS GOOD BUT PEOPLE CAN GET METAL FROM THE BOWELS OF THE EARTH AT ANY TIME

HONOR TO THE MASTER METALWORKERS!!!! WE CAN CREATE TREASURE FROM WHAT’S BENEATH THE EARTH ANYTIME AND ANYWHERE

WHEN THE MASTER METALWORKER WORKS, GOLD SHINES LIKE THE SUN AND RUBIES LIKE FIRE IN THE NIGHT AND EVEN THE DIAMONDS AND TOPAZES SPARKLE AT NIGHT WITH THE STARS

When the world was created, artistic genius was given to four kinds of artists, each with their own tools: the architects have stone, the painters have color, the sculptors have marble, and those are cool and all, BUT WE THE METALWORKERS HAVE GOLD

METALS, THE UNDERGROUND NEVER-FADING FLOWERS, SHINE BRIGHTEST ON THE BROWS OF ALL THE GREATEST PEOPLE—THE KINGS AND QUEENS AND DUKES AND EMPERORS AND EVEN POPES—SO HONOR TO THE MASTER METALWORKERS

Bernardino: HEY everyone let’s have a moment of silence

Cellini: For what?

Bernardino: BEFORE WE START SINGING AGAIN LET’S ALL GET SOME MORE DRINKS

Everyone Else: YEAH WE NEED MORE WINE BECAUSE WE ALREADY DRANK WHAT WE GOT HEY TAVERN OWNER COME HERE

*The tavern owner, who is (probably) super-annoyed with everyone and definitely needs a nice vacay, comes in.*

Tavern Owner: uggggggggggggh whaddya want?

Everyone Else: WE WANT WINE

Tavern Owner: WE’RE OUT THANK YOU

Cellini: THIS IS LITERALLY A TAVERN HOW COULD YOU BE OUT OF WINE

Tavern Owner: Well, actually, we’re technically not out of wine but you’ve already had too much and if you want to drink more…

Everyone Else: Then...?

Tavern Owner: ...you need to pay up for the wine you’ve already had.

Everyone Else: Well, what do we owe you?

*The tavern owner gets out an exceedingly long list.*

Tavern Owner: Well, you asked for it, so here’s the whole long list of everything you bought:

First, white wines: Orvieto and Aleatico and Maraschino—that’s thirty.

Everyone Else: Thirty already?

Tavern Owner: Next up, reds: Ischia and Procida and Nisita—that makes sixty.

Everyone Else: wait SIXTY BOTTLES

Tavern Owner: And that’s not the half. There’s also Asti sparkling wine, Lipari wine, Lacryma-Christi (Jesus, you people drink a lot of the dude’s tears)—which brings the total to exactly one hundred and thirty bottles of wine.

Everyone Else: ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY BOTTLES SWEET JESUS WHO THE HELL BOUGHT THAT MANY

Tavern Owner: ...You people did. Not my problem.

Cellini: EVEN THE TRUMPETS OF THE LAST JUDGMENT WOULD BE LESS SCARY THAN THE VOICE AND THE LIST OF THE TAVERN OWNER

Francesco, Bernardino, and Cellini’s Friends and Workers: YEAH THIS IS HORRIBLE

Cellini: Hmm, how do we get out of this sticky situation?

Francesco, Bernardino, and Cellini’s Friends and Workers: LET’S BEAT UP THE TAVERN OWNER

Cellini: Nah. Let’s think about this.

Francesco, Bernardino, and Cellini’s Friends and Workers: awwwwwwww but we wanted to beat him up

*The tavern owner runs off.*

Cellini: Maybe Ascanio will save us!

*Ascanio, who is apparently well-versed in reality shows, comes in at that exact moment with a bag of money.*

Everyone: HURRAY THERE HE IS HE’S COME TO SAVE US LONG LIVE ASCANIO

*Cellini runs over to greet him.*

Cellini: THERE YOU ARE I’M SO GLAD TO SEE YOU LET’S CHAT AND LET ME HAVE THE MONEY IT LOOKS LIKE THE POPE GAVE YOU FOR THE STATUE

Ascanio: Hold on, wait a sec! I’m ready to drink as much as any of you, but first I need to tell you something very important.

This is indeed from the Pope: it’s advance money for the casting of the Perseus statue, which everyone on the Italian peninsula is waiting for with baited breath! There’s one condition attached, though: you must have the statue done tomorrow. I need your oath. ***

Cellini: Tomorrow? Very well, nothing I can’t handle. I swear it.

Francesco, Bernardino, and Cellini’s Friends and Workers: AND WE SWEAR IT TOO SINCE WE’RE GONNA HELP CAST IT

Everyone: WE GIVE OUR WORD THAT THE STATUE WILL BE CAST TOMORROW WITHOUT ANY DELAY

Ascanio: Alright, now I can feel good about giving you this money since you’ve all promised. I hear you have to pay off a bill; here you go.

*Cellini empties the bag and examines the contents, visibly disappointed.*

Cellini: That’s IT???

Francesco and Bernardino: That’s practically nothing!

Ascanio: Hey, not my fault that Balducci is an old, grouchy fool.

Cellini: Well, he doesn’t like me anyway, and at least this is definitely enough to pay the bill. Waiter!

*The tavern owner comes back. Cellini mimics his nasal voice.*

Here’s your precious money to pay off your precious bill!

*The tavern owner, trembling, accepts the money.*

Tavern Owner: FINALLY THANK YOU do you want to drink?

Everyone Else: YEAH GET US SOME MORE WINE

*He goes off.*

Cellini: HEY EVERYONE I HAVE THE BEST IDEA TO GET REVENGE ON BALDUCCI FOR PAYING ME SO BADLY so I know that Balducci is coming to see Cassandro’s show at the Carnival celebrations tonight so since we’re buddies with Cassandro and his troupe whaddya say to paying the troupe to make fun of Balducci in the show tonight and even maybe getting in on shaming and humiliating him ourselves???

Everyone Else: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY THAT SOUNDS AWESOME

Cellini: ANATHEMA ON GIACOMO BALDUCCI

Everyone Else: YEAH HE CAN GO SUCK IT MEANWHILE WE’RE GONNA MAKE ALL OF ROME LAUGH AT HIM SO LET’S GO TO CASSANDRO’S

Everyone: GLORY TO US LET’S SING THE SONG ABOUT HOW AWESOME METALWORKERS ARE AGAIN

Cellini: Just the last part—that’s the best verse!

Everyone: METALS, THE UNDERGROUND NEVER-FADING FLOWERS, SHINE BRIGHTEST ON THE BROWS OF ALL THE GREATEST PEOPLE—THE KINGS AND QUEENS AND DUKES AND EMPERORS AND EVEN POPES—SO HONOR TO THE MASTER METALWORKERS

*Fieramosca, who has been spying on all this, comes out of his hiding place.*

Fieramosca: IT’S TOO MUCH ALL THIS SHAMELESS PLOTTING AND I WON’T LET HIM GET AWAY WITH THIS ****

*Pompeo casually strolls in.*

Pompeo: Hey, what’s up with you?

Fieramosca: WHAT’S UP WITH ME??? MY LIFE IS FALLING APART AND I’M FILLED WITH RAGE BECAUSE CELLINI—

Pompeo: oh what did he do NOW

*Fieramosca runs over to Pompeo and embraces him.*

Fieramosca: POMPEO MY DEAR FRIEND MY SAVIOR

Pompeo: oh wait I heard what happened to you yesterday.

Fieramosca: You know? I haven’t even told you yet!

Pompeo: Everyone knows. You got beaten up and dunked into a fountain.

Fieramosca: PLEASE DON’T TALK ABOUT IT DEAR POMPEO ANYWAY THE WHOLE SITUATION GETS MUCH WORSE

Pompeo: How so?

Fieramosca: TERESA AND HER DAD ARE GONNA SEE CASSANDRO’S SHOW AT CARNIVAL TONIGHT

Pompeo: ...I fail to see the problem.

Fieramosca: THE PROBLEM IS THAT WHILE THE SHOW’S GOING ON AND BALDUCCI’S DISTRACTED A WHITE FRIAR AND A CAPUCHIN ARE GOING TO CARRY OFF MY FIANCÉE

Pompeo: Bravo!

Fieramosca: YOU’RE MISSING THE POINT THE WHITE FRIAR IS CELLINI AND THE CAPUCHIN IS HIS APPRENTICE ASCANIO

Pompeo: Bravo!

Fieramosca: ...Excuse me?

Pompeo: Long live boldness!

Fieramosca: I don’t care what happens to me but I’m going to tell Mr. Balducci about this plan and we’ll see if he cries ‘Bravo!’

Pompeo: oh my goodness you IDIOT do you not get it

Fieramosca: What?

Pompeo: I love you, but since you’re obviously not the sharpest tool in the shed, let me explain it to you in small words so you can understand: since you know his plan, use the plan yourself.

Fieramosca: but HOW

Pompeo: omg this is so frustrating you dress up as a White Friar and I dress up as a Capuchin and we get there before Cellini and Ascanio

Fieramosca: good idea BUT WHAT IF CELLINI SEES ME HE’S GONNA KILL ME

Pompeo: DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT YOU HAVE ME AND I’M A PRO AT THIS

Fieramosca: Very well.

WHO CAN STAND UP TO ME WAS I NOT BORN TO FIGHT WOE TO THE MAN WHO DARES CROSS ME AND EVEN MORE WOE TO THE MAN WHO DARES MOCK ME BECAUSE I’M AS QUICK TO A SWORD AS TO ANGER HERE’S A QUARTE HERE’S A TIERCE LONG LIVE FENCING WHICH (aside from sculpting and getting humiliated by my fiancée and the guy she likes I guess) IS MY BEST SKILL *****

TERESA MY HEART IS BURNING FOR YOU LIKE MOUNT VESUVIUS BECAUSE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH THAT IF YOU WANTED ME TO I’D MAKE WAR ON HELL AND EVERYONE IN IT AND I’D EVEN FIGHT CELLINI AND NOT EVEN A HUNDRED CELLINIS COULD KNOCK ME DOWN

NO! NO ONE CAN STAND UP TO ME WAS I NOT BORN TO FIGHT WOE TO THE MAN WHO DARES CROSS ME AND EVEN MORE WOE TO THE MAN WHO DARES MOCK ME BECAUSE I’M AS QUICK TO A SWORD AS TO ANGER HERE’S A QUARTE HERE’S A TIERCE LONG LIVE FENCING WHICH IS MY BEST SKILL

*He grabs his sword or some other random object and starts mock-swordfighting. Popping random balloons is optional but strongly encouraged.*

ONE TWO THREE ONE TWO THREE THRUST PARRY ONE TWO ONE...DEAD! I MERCILESSLY STAB HIM THROUGH THE HEART AND I AM VICTORIOUS

Pompeo: Bravo! Now let’s go. The party’s almost starting.

Fieramosca: Dear Pompeo, let me embrace you!

*They hug.*

Pompeo: Now let’s get a couple habits from...somewhere. Don’t be afraid. Everything will go just fine.

*They leave together.*

Notes

Scene 3:

The Piazza Colonna a short time later, with Cassandro’s theater and everything decked out for Carnival.

Balducci: I really hope you appreciate that I’m taking you to the theater at your request, even though you know that all I do at the theater is complain about the actors and you know that I don’t like theater anyway. Anyway, let’s see what weird new show all the kids these days are talking about.

*He goes to read the advertisement for the show, leaving Teresa alone.*

Teresa: What should I do? Could I really leave my old father alone and break his heart?

*She goes over to her father. Cellini, dressed in a white habit, and Ascanio, dressed in a brown habit, enter.* **

Cellini and Ascanio: let’s keep our project on the down-low and let the troupers distract Balducci and then work together and get Teresa and then go to the notary!

Teresa: Could I really leave my father behind? Then again, maybe, when we get married, he’ll learn to accept it!

Balducci: I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS BECAUSE I KNOW I WON’T

Cellini and Ascanio: let’s let this plan play out!

*The four of them get lost in the crowd.*

Revellers: HEY EVERYONE CASSANDRO IS PRESENTING A NEW SHOW SO STICK AROUND AND SEE IF IT’S FUNNY BECAUSE IF IT’S NOT WE’LL BOO OUR HEADS OFF

*A group of dancers with tambourines enters, along with Francesco, Bernardino, and the members of Cassandro’s troupe. Teresa and even Balducci get mixed in with the dancers. People mingle in the square and start to join in with the dancing.*

Francesco, Bernardino, and Troupers: HEY EVERYONE COME HERE COME SEE THIS AWESOME NEW SHOW

Revellers: BRAVO BRAVO

Francesco, Bernardino, and Troupers: HEY EVERYONE COME SEE CASSANDRO AND HIS AWESOME NEW SHOW

Revellers: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY BRAVO BRAVO

IT’S DARK BUT WE’RE ALL SO HAPPY AND THE CITY IS SO NOISY AND WE’RE ALL IN LOVE AND A LITTLE BIT DRUNK HOW COULD YOU BE SAD

Francesco, Bernardino, and Troupers: C’MON COME SEE THE SHOW

Revellers: HEY MUSICIANS PLAY ON WE LOVE YOUR MOOD

Francesco, Bernardino, and Troupers: HEY EVERYONE WE DON’T CARE IF YOU’RE A DOCTOR OR A JOKER COME SEE OUR AWESOME SHOW

Revellers: LONG LIVE JOY LET’S DROWN IN JOY LET’S DRINK AND SING AND DANCE

Francesco, Bernardino, and Troupers: ALL YOU MASQUERADERS COME SEE THE SHOW TOO

Teresa and Revellers: CARNIVAL IS A HUGE PARTY WHERE EVERYONE IS HAPPY AND THE WORLD TURNS UPSIDE DOWN

Francesco, Bernardino, and Troupers: HEY EVERYONE WE’RE GONNA KEEP SAYING IT COME SEE OUR AWESOME NEW SHOW

Revellers: WHO ELSE IS EXCITED ABOUT THIS NEW SHOW

Francesco, Bernardino, and Troupers: DON’T GO AWAY BECAUSE CARNIVAL AIN’T COMPLETE WITHOUT US AND OUR AWESOME SHOWS

Some of the Revellers: KEEP YELLING AT US IF YOU WANT BUT WE THINK DANCING’S MORE FUN SORRY NOT SORRY

Francesco, Bernardino, and Troupers: WE DON’T CARE ABOUT WHAT YOU STUPID DANCERS THINK EVERYONE COME SEE THE SHOW

Teresa and Revellers: WE LOVE TO DANCE AND ALL THE WORLD IS A BALL SO LET’S DANCE WHILE WE CAN

Francesco, Bernardino, and Troupers: EVERYONE COME SEE OUR NEW SHOW CASSANDRO’S AWESOME AND YOUR DANCING IS STUPID

Revellers: WHAT A BEAUTIFUL NIGHT CARNIVAL IS A HUGE PARTY THAT MAKES THE CITY BURN WITH DELIGHT AND THE WORLD TURN UPSIDE DOWN

*The trumpeters signal the beginning of the show. Most of the people take seats near the stage, including Teresa and Balducci. Cellini and Ascanio grab seats on the left. Fieramosca (dressed in white) and Pompeo (dressed in brown) find seats on the right.*

Men: HEY EVERYONE STOP DANCING THE SHOW’S ABOUT TO START

Women: YEAH EVERYONE BE QUIET THE SHOW’S STARTING

*The curtain of the theater rises to reveal four actors onstage: a man dressed like the Pope, a man dressed like Balducci sitting on a throne, and two men dressed like Swiss Guards and holding money and laurels.*

People: LOOK THERE’S THE POPE AND HIS TREASURER BALDUCCI

Balducci: OH SO THIS IS HOW IT IS THEY’RE GONNA MOCK ME ONSTAGE HUH

Teresa: oh no oh no let’s go, Dad!

Balducci: Well, I paid to see this stupid show so I might as well stay here and see the whole thing and see myself get completely and utterly humiliated. After this, though, I'm going to go speak to the Pope about how the people are making fun of us and about the utter blasphemy they’re committing!

People: HEY YOU OVER THERE SHUT UP WE CAN’T HEAR THE SHOW

Cellini: Hey, Ascanio, do you see Teresa?

Ascanio: She’s over there.

Fieramosca: Hey, Pompeo, do you see Teresa?

Pompeo: She’s over there.

Teresa: this is the most embarrassing thing ever

People: HEY EVERYONE SHUT UP

Balducci: BUT I DON’T WANNA SHUT UP

People: CAN IT

*Colombine enters.*

Colombine: HEY EVERYONE OUR SHOW’S STARTING AND WE HAVE A TREAT FOR YOU BECAUSE HARLEQUIN AND PIERROT ARE GONNA COMPETE IN THE ITALIAN PENINSULA’S GOT TALENT TO SEE WHO’S THE BETTER SINGER ***

People: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY

*The actors playing Harlequin and Pierrot enter.*

Some People: HARLEQUIN IS BEING PLAYED BY THE BEST TENOR IN ROME

Other People: PIERROT IS BEING PLAYED BY A SINGER FROM TUSCANY BUT IS HE ACTUALLY A MAN OR JUST AN ASS

Women: PLEASE BE QUIET HARLEQUIN IS ABOUT TO SING

Men: YOU BE QUIET

*Harlequin (in pantomime) sings and accompanies himself on the lyre. Some people continue talking; the fake Balducci falls asleep.*

Men: Well done! Bravo! You damn chatterboxes need to shut up!

Women: YOU HAVE TO WATCH HARLEQUIN HE’S BEING PLAYED BY ROME’S FINEST TENOR

Everyone: HE’S SUCH A GOOD SINGER AND HE’S DOING SO WELL EVEN THOUGH TECHNICALLY HE’S NOT ACTUALLY SINGING

*Harlequin’s section comes to an end. Pierrot (again, in pantomime) sings and accompanies himself on the bass drum. The people all listen attentively; the fake Balducci wakes up and, delighted, beats to the time of the music.*

Some People: LOOK HOW MUCH THE OLD TREASURER IS ENJOYING THIS

Balducci: THIS HAS GONE TOO FAR I NEED TO SPEAK TO THE MANAGER OF THIS

Some People: STOP BEING SUCH A KAREN

Balducci: WHAT’S A KAREN

Some People: NEVER MIND YOU’RE TOO FOOLISH TO UNDERSTAND

Other People: HAHAHAHAHA THE OLD MAN IS SO HAPPY HAHAHAHAHAHA

*When the song is over, Harlequin and Pierrot both wait, expecting the prize. The fake Balducci gives a small coin to Harlequin, who is visibly disappointed, and then gives the rest of the money to Pierrot.*

People: Well, when the judge has an ass’s ears…

Balducci: SCREW YOU ALL I DEMAND TO SEE THE MANAGER OF THIS OPERATION

Teresa: please be quiet you’re only making them laugh louder

*The fake Balducci gives the laurel wreath to Pierrot. Harlequin then hits both of the other actors with a wooden sword. Colombine unsuccessfully attempts to intervene.*

People: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY BRAVI THIS IS THE BEST SHOW EVER

Balducci: FINE SINCE I CAN’T SPEAK TO THE MANAGER I’M GONNA TAKE THIS INTO MY OWN HANDS

*He jumps up from his seat, runs onstage, and begins attacking the comedians with his cane.*

Teresa: oh my GOD DAD STOP BEING SUCH A KAREN

People: LONG LIVE CARNIVAL BRAVI THE ORIGINAL AND THE ACTOR ARE FACE TO FACE SO NOW WE GET TO SEE WHICH IS UGLIER

*Some of the people stay to watch the fight between Balducci and the comedians, while others go back to dancing and mingling. Several people carrying moccoli (little candles often carried at Carnival) mix with the crowd. People keep blowing out and relighting the moccoli. Several coaches are bearing torches; these are blown out from apartment windows above by people bearing large bellows. Cellini, Ascanio, Fieramosca, and Pompeo make their way through the crowd, trying to find Teresa. In general, it’s absolute pandemonium; what else would you expect?* ****

Cellini and Fieramosca: *to their respective assistants* Come on, let’s push our way through this huge crowd and get Teresa!

*Teresa has made her way downstage and is looking for Cellini and Ascanio when she sees, but does not definitively recognize, them.*

Teresa: OH HEY I THINK THAT’S CELLINI WITH ASCANIO

*She sees Fieramosca and Pompeo in their disguises but does not recognize them.*

WAIT WHAT WHY IS THERE ANOTHER WHITE FRIAR AND CAPUCHIN MONK DUO WHAT ON EARTH IS THIS

Fieramosca: HI IT’S ME

Cellini: HI IT’S ME

Teresa: WHICH ONE IS THE ORIGINAL

Revellers: MOCCOLI MOCCOLI MOCCOLI

Cellini and Fieramosca: IT’S ME COME WITH ME

Revellers: MOCCOLI MOCCOLI MOCCOLI

Other Revellers: YOU MOCCOLI PEOPLE ARE SO ANNOYING

Revellers: MOCCOLI MOCCOLI IT KINDA RHYMES WITH BROCCOLI MOCCOLI MOCCOLI

Cellini: THERE’S ANOTHER MONK HERE THERE’S SOME TREACHERY AFOOT GOD DAMN IT

Pompeo: C’MON FIERAMOSCA WE CAN DO THIS DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT

Fieramosca: this is the worst plan EVER

Pompeo: KEEP GOING ANYWAY

Ascanio: WE NEED TO AVENGE THIS TREACHERY

Pompeo: SERIOUSLY FIERAMOSCA I LOVE YOU BUT PLEASE STOP WORRYING ABOUT THIS

*Cellini draws his sword.*

Cellini: I DON’T CARE WHO YOU ARE YOU ASKED FOR IT BECAUSE IT SEEMS LIKE YOU’RE TRYING TO KIDNAP MY GIRLFRIEND

Fieramosca: POMPEO PLEASE COME OVER HERE AND HELP ME OUT BECAUSE I’M GETTING SCARED

Ascanio: *running after Fieramosca* I WILL GET YOU

*Ascanio, Fieramosca, and Pompeo all draw their swords. Cellini fights Pompeo; Ascanio fights Fieramosca.*

Teresa: FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE SOMEONE STOP THIS

*Some of the revellers unsuccessfully attempt to restrain the four fighters.*

Revellers: HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND IT’S CARNIVAL THIS ISN’T A TIME FOR FIGHTING

Cellini: NO I HAVEN’T LOST MY MIND

Teresa: EVERYONE STOP IT

Fieramosca: *running away from Ascanio* SOMEONE HELP ME

Pompeo: KEEP GOING

Cellini: YOU ARE NOT GETTING AWAY WITH THIS

Fieramosca: SERIOUSLY SOMEONE HELP ME

Cellini: NO YOU’RE NOT GETTING AWAY WITH THIS NO

*He runs Pompeo through with his sword. Everyone immediately stops what they’re doing and screams.*

Pompeo: I WOULD LIKE TO ANNOUNCE THAT I AM DEAD

*He dies.*

People: OH SHIT A DUDE JUST GOT MURDERED FIRE POLICE AMBULANCE

*Balducci, in a state of disarray from the fight, returns.*

Balducci: GOOD LORD THERE’S A DEAD MAN WHERE’S MY DAUGHTER

*Guards arrive. Fieramosca runs over to Pompeo’s body, checking behind him because he believes that Ascanio is still following him.*

Fieramosca: HELP ME....OH MY GOD POMPEO’S DEAD NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

People: *pointing to Cellini* ARREST THAT FRIAR HE DID IT AND HIS SWORD STILL HAS THAT DUDE’S BLOOD ALL OVER IT

*Cellini is arrested. Everyone gathers around him.*

Cellini: I’M DONE FOR

Fieramosca: I’m saved…

Francesco and Bernardino: THEY CAUGHT OUR MASTER

Ascanio: MY POOR MASTER DOESN’T DESERVE THIS

Fieramosca: WE GOT ‘IM

Teresa: WHY IS FATE SO CRUEL

Teresa, Balducci, Francesco, and the Troupers: THIS IS THE WORST NIGHT EVER

Women: Such a good man killed…

Men: A KNAVE DID THIS

*Cellini’s friends and assistants pretend not to recognize him in order to more effectively set up their plan.*

Fieramosca, Balducci, Francesco, Bernardino, and People: HOW COULD THIS MAN MURDER A CAPUCHIN THAT’S LIKE THE WORST THING EVER HE’S PROBABLY A BANDIT FROM THE COUNTRYSIDE OR A SPURNED LOVER OR SOMETHING KEEP A GOOD GRIP ON HIM

Teresa: HE RUINED HIMSELF FOR MY SAKE I FEEL AWFUL I DIDN’T KNOW THIS WAS GONNA HAPPEN BUT I STILL FEEL AWFUL ALSO HOW DARE YOU PEOPLE TREAT HIM LIKE A MONSTER

Cellini: THIS IS THE WORST NIGHT EVER HOW DARE YOU PEOPLE TREAT ME LIKE A MONSTER

Ascanio: MY DEAR MASTER I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY’RE DOING THIS TO YOU AND TREATING YOU LIKE A MONSTER

*Suddenly, the cannon of the Castel di Sant’Angelo booms three times. As presumably per end-of-Carnival tradition, everyone blows out their candles and torches, plunging the square into darkness.* *****

Cellini: MY FRIENDS HELP ME I’VE BEEN CAUGHT

*Francesco, Bernardino, and others create a large commotion. In the general confusion caused by that, the darkness, and the booming of the cannon, Cellini pushes his way through the crowd and escapes.*

People: WE CAN’T SEE ANYTHING

Fieramosca, Balducci, and Chorus: HEY GUARDS DO YOU STILL HAVE HIM

Guards: NO WE DON’T HELP US

People: BUT YOU’RE THE ONES WHO WERE SUPPOSED TO HAVE HIM

Teresa, Ascanio, Francesco, Bernardino, and Cellini’s Other Friends and Workers: THANK GOODNESS HE ESCAPED

Fieramosca and Balducci: WHAT THE H-E-DOUBLE-HOCKEYSTICKS WE JUST HAD HIM

Teresa, Ascanio, Francesco, Bernardino, and Cellini’s Other Friends and Workers: THANK YOU CANNON FOR SOUNDING AT JUST THE RIGHT TIME SO HE COULD ESCAPE

Fieramosca, Balducci, and People: CURSE YOU STUPID CANNON WE JUST HAD HIM WHY DID YOU HAVE TO GO OFF NOW

Balducci: TERESA COME HERE

Teresa: DAD—

Ascanio: *grabbing Teresa’s arm* HEY TERESA IT’S ME ASCANIO COME WITH ME

*The two of them make their way through the crowd, trying to avoid Fieramosca and Balducci.*

People: OH GOD THE MURDERER ESCAPED WE JUST HAD HIM AND NOW WE CAN’T SEE A THING AND HE’S GOTTEN AWAY WITH IT

Balducci: TERESA WHERE ARE YOU IT’S SO DARK AND NOISY OUT AND I CAN’T SEE A THING

Fieramosca: CURSE THIS STUPID CANNON WE JUST HAD HIM BUT NOW THERE’S A MURDERER ON THE RUN AND IT’S SO DARK AND NOISY OUT SO I CAN’T SEE A THING

Teresa and Ascanio: IT’S SO NOISY OUT BUT HE’S GOTTEN AWAY SO THAT’S GOOD

People: THIS IS GETTING WAY TOO CRAZY AND IT’S JUST PLAIN CHAOS

*In the midst of the chaos, Balducci bumps into Fieramosca.*

Balducci: IT’S HIM IT’S THE MONK IN WHITE

Fieramosca: wait WHAT

Balducci: I GOT HIM

Fieramosca: EXCUSE ME WHAT THE HELL IS THIS

Guards: WE’RE COMING

*They arrest Fieramosca.*

Balducci: KEEP A GOOD GRIP ON HIM

People: THEY GOT HIM

Balducci: TERESA WHERE ARE YOU

Teresa, Ascanio, Francesco, Bernardino, and Cellini’s Other Friends and Workers: HAHAHAHA THEY GOT FIERAMOSCA THAT’S EXCELLENT

Fieramosca: BUT I’M NOT—

People: TAKE HIM AWAY

Fieramosca: YOU’RE MISTAKING ME FOR SOMEONE ELSE

Guards and People: LET’S TAKE CARE OF THIS MURDERER

Fieramosca: BUT MY NAME IS FIERAMOSCA

Guards: LET’S GO OFF TO PRISON

Balducci: SERIOUSLY TERESA WHERE ARE YOU

Several People, One At A Time, Around the Square: THEY CAUGHT HIM

Fieramosca: I SWEAR TO GOD I’M FIERAMOSCA

Teresa, Ascanio, Francesco, and Some People: YOU MURDERER WE’LL HAVE YOU HANGED RIGHT AWAY YOU’RE NOT GETTING AWAY WITH THIS

Balducci, Bernardino, and Other People: WHY WOULD YOU MURDER A CAPUCHIN ON THE EVE OF ASH WEDNESDAY WE’LL HAVE YOU HANGED RIGHT AWAY YOU’RE NOT GETTING AWAY WITH THIS

Fieramosca: I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU ALL WANT TO THROW ME IN PRISON AND HANG ME LISTEN TO ME I DIDN’T MURDER ANYONE I AM A GOOD CITIZEN OF ROME AND MY NAME IS FIERAMOSCA

Everyone: OH GOD I’M SUFFOCATING GIVE ME SOME ROOM LET ME OUT OF HERE WE’LL NEVER MAKE IT OUT OF HERE

Balducci: I CAN’T FIND MY DAUGHTER TERESA

Teresa and Ascanio: C’MON LET’S GO WE NEED TO STICK TOGETHER

Fieramosca: OH GOD I’M SUFFOCATING DON’T STRANGLE ME

Everyone: OH GOD YOU’RE CRUSHING ME THIS IS A LIVING HELL ON EARTH AND ALSO COMPLETE AND UTTER CHAOS AND WE’LL NEVER BE ABLE TO GET OUT

*Teresa and Ascanio run off. Fieramosca is led off by the guards. In a panic, everyone else tries to push their way out of the square.*

Notes

Also, a collection of several artistic portrayals of the Piazza Colonna and Carnival in Rome!

Act II:

Scene 1:

Early morning, Ash Wednesday. Cellini’s workshop. Various creations of Cellini’s are scattered around. On the right is a plaster model of the Perseus statue. At the back is a door, with one window on each side. The windows look out onto the street.

*Teresa and Ascanio run in. Teresa starts looking out one of the windows while Ascanio closes the door.*

Teresa: Oh God, what’s happened to Cellini? Where could he be?

Ascanio: He’ll be here soon, Teresa. Don’t worry about it.

Teresa: NO I SWEAR HE’S BEEN CAUGHT OR HE’S DEAD

Ascanio: No, he’s alright, listen to me; he’s not the kind of guy who could get caught by the Pope’s men or the law.

Teresa: But why hasn’t he made it here yet?

*A group of White Friars (a Carmelite order of monks) starts to pass by.*

White Friars: Vas spirituale, Maria, sancta mater, ora pro nobis…

*For the sake of concision, the White Friars continue chanting intermittently in much the same vein for the next few minutes.* **

Ascanio: Listen!

*He runs over to a window and looks out.*

Teresa: Is it him?

*Ascanio comes back.*

Ascanio: Unfortunately, no. That song is just a group of monks passing by and chanting prayers as they go off to their holy works.

Teresa: This hurts too much!

Ascanio: Take heart.

Teresa: We must pray!

Teresa and Ascanio: Alright, then.

*They kneel.*

Holy Virgin, star of the morning, smile and shed some light on us...

*The White Friars pass by the door at this point; their voices gradually fade as they move away.*

Holy Virgin, star of the morning, have mercy and bring Cellini safely back to us!

*Cellini, still dressed in his white habit (which is now covered in blood) runs in.*

Cellini: HEY I’M HERE

Teresa and Ascanio: CELLINI THANK GOODNESS YOU’RE HERE

*They run over to him.*

Teresa: You aren’t wounded, are you?

Cellini: No, thank God, but I did get a bit frazzled along the way.

Ascanio: You? Frazzled?

Cellini: It took all my luck to get out of all that craziness and certain arrest.

Teresa and Ascanio: What happened?

Cellini: Okay, here goes, I bet you’ve never heard anything like this:

SO it was really dark and I had my dagger and I was running through this huge crowd and I got out and I kept running because there was this huge mob chasing after me and yelling for my blood because yeah of course they were and I was still wearing this habit—

Ascanio: Couldn’t you have just taken it off?

Cellini: DON’T INTERRUPT MY STORY anyway just in the nick of time I saw a building with the door open and I hid behind the door and they still kept running because they didn’t see me so I closed the door and then I thought about Teresa and blessed my patron saint and then I felt really weak and the ground started shaking under me and then I fainted

Teresa: OOH WHAT HAPPENED NEXT I’M REALLY SCARED BUT ALSO VERY INTRIGUED

Ascanio: ...I’m not buying it also how come SHE gets to interrupt your story

Cellini: Ascanio, I think very highly of you but you’re not my girlfriend ANYWAY I woke up a while later and it was dawn and the rooftops were covered in beautiful light and the roosters were crowing and people were walking around everywhere and I had no idea how I was going to get home but a bunch of friars dressed like me happened to pass by so I slipped in and they happened to pass by here so I slipped out AND NOW I’M HERE AND SO ARE YOU ***

Teresa: And may God never separate us again!

Ascanio: Uh, guys, I hate to break it to you but one of you is still wanted for murder and the other’s dad is probably looking for us as we speak so we’re not out of danger yet.

Cellini: You’re right. We have to go NOW.

Teresa: We have to go? We should just try hiding out—

Cellini: No, we have to go NOW.

Ascanio: BUT YOU STILL HAVE A STATUE TO FINISH

Cellini: TO HELL WITH MY STATUE AND THE POPE AND THE LAW WE JUST NEED TO RUN AWAY TO FLORENCE ASCANIO GO GET US A HORSE

Ascanio: Very well. You can count on me and I’ll be back here as soon as I can.

*He leaves.*

Teresa: My love, God is on our side! After everything, we’re here together, which is the proof that God has blessed us...

Cellini: Yes! Let’s enjoy this moment, our love, the brief moment of peace we have now before we have to flee…

Teresa: YESTERDAY WAS PLAIN AWFUL

Cellini: You can say that again.

Teresa: YESTERDAY WAS PLAIN AWFUL

Cellini: BUT THAT’S NOT NOW THAT’S THEN

Teresa: You’re right; it’s a new day that’ll dry our tears…

Cellini: Even though the future may be dark…

Teresa: ...we have peace and love and happiness!

Cellini: Let’s live and let death come when it will!

Teresa: But first take off the habit. You can’t be seen in it.

*Cellini takes off his habit and puts it on a chair.*

Cellini: There we go. Time is running out, but first...how about a mock swordfight?

Teresa: I AM SO DOWN CHOOSE YOUR WEAPON

*They start mock-swordfighting.*

Cellini: Ah, brava! What bravery, my squire!

Teresa: Put on your breastplate!

*The fight comes to an end.*

Cellini and Teresa: GOD HAS BLESSED US SO WE’LL BE OKAY NO MATTER WHAT BECAUSE HE HAS BLESSED ALL OUR WISHES ****

You know, when eagles in the mountains hear their friends being captured, what do they do? They stick together and help each other out and yell their war cries and help each other escape! And they fly far away despite everything, even being shot at! LET’S DO THE SAME THING AND RUN AWAY TO FLORENCE WE’LL BRAVE EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE EVEN THE VATICAN LET’S GO

*Ascanio runs in, in a state of panic.*

Ascanio: HEY SIR DEAR SIR WE HAVE A BIT OF A PROBLEM

Cellini: What is it?

Ascanio: BALDUCCI AND FIERAMOSCA ARE HERE I JUST SAW THEM THROUGH THE WINDOW

Teresa: OH SHOOT IT’S MY DAD

Cellini: Don’t be afraid. I’ll take care of this.

*He helps Teresa hide behind the model of Perseus.*

Ascanio: THERE THEY ARE

*Balducci and Fieramosca enter. Fieramosca sees Cellini and immediately starts backing towards the door, but Balducci goes to confront Cellini with his cane.*

Balducci: AT LAST I HAVE FOUND YOU, YOU MURDERER AND SEDUCER AND BRIGAND AND AT THIS POINT I’M JUST GOING TO CALL YOU EVERY NOT-NICE THING IN THE BOOK BECAUSE I’M JUST FED UP WITH AND SEVERELY PO’D AT YOU

Cellini: Oh excuse me, Mr. Giacomo, I didn’t realize that you could just show up at my house and start making such a ruckus. What’s gotten into you?

Balducci: YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS ABOUT GIVE ME BACK MY DAUGHTER I KNOW SHE’S HERE SO GIVE HER BACK OR ELSE I WILL BEAT YOU UP WITH THI—

Cellini: DON’T EVEN THI—

*Teresa runs out and falls on her knees before her father.*

Teresa: DAD I’M SORRY NOW I’M KNEELING BEFORE YOU

Balducci: ahhhhhhhhhhh THERE you are so let me get this straight: you honor your beloved mother by running away from me and planning to escape with, of all things, A KNOWN MURDERER wow who would’ve thought that you, of all people, could be such a horrible person?

Teresa: DAD JUST LISTEN TO ME

Cellini: Your daughter would NEVER—

Teresa: YEAH DAD I WOULD NEVER

Cellini: I’ll say it: I’m the only guilty party here.

Balducci: That’s a load of BS coming from you; I know what I know about you…

Cellini: Which is…?

Balducci: uh...NEVER MIND ANYWAY TERESA GO HOME

*Cellini steps in between Balducci and Teresa.*

Cellini: STOP I LOVE YOUR DAUGHTER

Balducci: WHAT DOES THAT MATTER

Cellini: AND SHE LOVES ME

Balducci: WELL TOO BAD SO SAD

Cellini: THIS IS THE FASTEST WAY TO RUIN YOUR FAMILY’S HONOR

Balducci: THAT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE ALSO YOU TWO ARE BREAKING UP EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY

Cellini: THAT’S NOT HOW THIS WORKS

Teresa: DAD STOP IT

Balducci: TERESA WE ARE LEAVING

Teresa: CELLINI HELP ME OUT HERE

Cellini: DON’T WORRY TERESA I GOT YOU

Balducci: Fieramosca, come claim your wife!

Everyone Else [yes, including Fieramosca]: wait WHAT

*Fieramosca timidly goes over to Teresa.*

Fieramosca: uhhhhh so I guess this is a thing now so uhhhhhh let’s leave

Cellini: You thief, if you so much as TOUCH HER I WILL

Balducci: FIERAMOSCA TAKE HER OUT OF HERE

Fieramosca: *backing away* Me? But I don’t want to cause even more of a scene…

Cellini: IF YOU SO MUCH AS MOVE TOWARDS HER FIERAMOSCA I WILL SEND YOU TO HELL

Balducci: FIERAMOSCA DO SOMETHING

Fieramosca: BUT I DON’T WANNA CAUSE A SCENE

Ascanio: Some son-in-law!

Teresa: OH MY GOD CAN EVERYONE CALM DOWN FOR FIVE SECONDS

*A disturbance from outside causes everyone to stop arguing and look up, only to see an unexpected development.*

Everyone: OH SHOOT IT’S THE POPE hey everyone we need to stop fighting and shut up and show some respect omg the Pope is here

*They all promptly shut up and kneel as Pope Clément VII (who will hereafter be referred to as ‘The Pope’ on the understanding that he is not the current Pope in The Real World™), dressed in traveling costume, enters with his retinue.*

The Pope: My children, full indulgence for all your sins! Rise; I don’t want to feel so aloof because I feel like you are all my children, and mercy is the dearest value to our hearts! Rise, my children! A full indulgence for all your sins! Rise!

Balducci and Fieramosca: Uh, Your Holiness, we very humbly give you our request: avenge us!

The Pope: Avenge you? For what? Oh, and for crying out loud, I’ve already asked you like...six times to rise and you’re still down there on the floor.

*Everyone gets up.*

Balducci: A GUY ABDUCTED MY DAUGHTER AND DISHONORED MY GOOD NAME

Fieramosca: AND THE SAME GUY KILLED MY SIDEKICK BUDDY WITH WHOM I DEFINITELY DID NOT HAVE A HOMOEROTIC RELATIONSHIP

The Pope: Who did all this?

Balducci and Fieramosca: CELLINI

Balducci: *gesturing to Teresa* THERE’S MY DAUGHTER

Fieramosca: *holding Cellini’s discarded bloodstained habit* AND THERE’S THE BLOOD HE SHED

Cellini, Teresa, and Ascanio: NO CELLINI ISN’T GUILTY

Balducci: Cellini, one, you literally said you were the only guilty one here like five minutes ago; two, I absolutely hate it when people refer to themselves in the third person.

Cellini: THAT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE NO FUN BALDUCCI

The Pope: A murder and an abduction? Cellini, you did all that? Really? Are you kidding me right now? Are you always going to play the little devil?

Cellini: No. Please, just hear me out for a moment.

The Pope: First, how’s the statue coming?

Cellini: Oh, right. The statue. The statue for you. The statue especially made for you. Your statue. That statue?

The Pope: YES, that statue.

Cellini: Uh...I don’t got you covered. *****

The Pope: What?

Cellini: ...It’s not done yet.

The Pope: Wait a sec...after all this time I’ve given you, and after your promise to have it done today, IT’S STILL NOT FINISHED?!

Everyone: It still hasn’t been cast!

The Pope: So you used my advance money to break a father’s heart and murder a man in the middle of Carnival and then spent the rest drinking? Seriously?

Balducci and Fieramosca: YEAH HE DID

Cellini, Teresa, and Ascanio: NO HE DIDN’T

Balducci and Fieramosca: SHUT UP

Cellini, Teresa, and Ascanio: YOU SHUT UP

The Pope: EVERYONE SHUT UP

Very well, then, you leave me no choice: another will cast the statue.

Teresa, Ascanio, Fieramosca, and Balducci: ANOTHER?!

Cellini: Another cast my statue? EXCUSE ME WHAT DID YOU SAY OH WAIT I KNOW WHAT YOU SAID AND IT IS NOT HAPPENING ON MY WATCH

I WOULD SOONER DESTROY MY OWN MODEL THAN ALLOW SOMEONE ELSE TO—

Everyone Else: What is he DOING?!?!

Fieramosca and Balducci: HOW DARE YOU?!?! ARE YOU NOT IN THE PRESENCE OF THE POPE?!?!?!?!

Cellini: Yes! May the Virgin forgive me, and the Pope, and my patron saint, but NO ONE ELSE, NOT EVEN MICHELANGELO HIMSELF WILL CAST THIS STATUE BECAUSE I’D RATHER DIE THAN THAT HAPPEN

The Pope: Fine, let’s test that out. Guards! Arrest Cellini immediately.

*The guards come forward but at the same time, Cellini picks up a large hammer and runs over to the model of the statue.*

Cellini: I will whack this model into tiny, unrecognizable bits before a single one of your guards lays a hand on me.

*He raises the hammer to smash the model, but everyone screams.*

The Pope: STOP oh for holy God’s sake

Teresa, Ascanio, Fieramosca, and Balducci: He defied the Pope to his face! What has he done?

The Pope: FINE you demon, what do you need to calm down? Honestly, at this point, I mostly just want to see my future display piece not get hacked to bits.

*Cellini moves in front of the model, lowering his hammer but still holding it.*

Cellini: Full forgiveness for all my sins.

The Pope: Very well; you will have it without confession.

Teresa, Ascanio, Fieramosca, and Balducci: Without even confession!

The Pope: I have said it; it will be done.

Cellini: That’s not all. I want Teresa’s hand in marriage.

The Pope: Let me get this straight: you want forgiveness and Teresa?

Fieramosca and Balducci: HOLY FATHER STOP RIGHT THERE

Cellini: Oh, and one more thing: I want the time to cast my statue.

The Pope: You want forgiveness, Teresa, and the time to cast the statue? Please tell me there’s nothing else.

Cellini: That is all.

Everyone Else: That’s all!

The Pope: ah DANG IT the devil knows how much I love art and he’s laughing at me but next thing you know I’ll be laughing at him

Balducci and Fieramosca: he knows how much the Pope loves art but it’ll be our turn to laugh

Teresa: Dear God, have mercy on him!

Ascanio: HAHAHA THIS IS THE BEST TRICK EVER

Cellini: I’VE GOT HIM IN A CORNER BECAUSE I KNOW HIS LOVE FOR ART

The Pope: How much time do you need to cast the statue?

Cellini: The rest of the day, God willing.

The Pope: ...Are you sure that’ll be enough time?

Cellini: I think so: the furnace has been heating up the metal for a while now.

The Pope: *signaling to the guards to move away* Very well, I agree to your conditions.

*Cellini puts down the hammer and goes over to the Pope.*

But listen to me very carefully, you rogue: I myself will be at the workshop tonight to see if you are able to complete the statue. If not, by God, I will hand you over to the legal authorities and you will be hanged tonight.

Teresa, Ascanio, Fieramosca, and Balducci: Hanged!

The Pope: I think I’ve made myself clear.

Balducci: But...but Holy Father, he can finish the statue by the end of the day, and Teresa—

The Pope: To Hell with you and Teresa! He’ll be hanged if he doesn’t finish.

Fieramosca: But...but Holy Father, he can finish the statue by the end of the day, and Pompeo—

The Pope: ugh you people to Hell with you and Pompeo! He’ll be hanged if he doesn’t finish. Cellini, I trust I’ve made myself clear?

Cellini: ...Crystal.

Teresa, Ascanio, Fieramosca, and Balducci: Hanged! If he doesn’t finish today, he’ll be hanged!

Cellini: *ironically* Ah, Holy Father, how kind to offer such an indulgence for my sins—the threat of hanging!

The Pope: Yes, you will hang!

Now he’ll feel less proud because I myself will punish him because no saint or angel in all of Heaven will help him; he has sealed his own fate!

Cellini: GOD WILL HELP ME AND I WILL SUCCEED BECAUSE I FEEL THE POWER AND SOMEONE ONCE SAID SOMETHING ABOUT FORTUNE FAVORING THE BOLD WELL IT’S NOT JUST FORTUNE IT’S ALSO GOD SO NO ONE’S PETTY VENGEANCE CAN STOP ME

Teresa: NOOOOOOOOOOO HE’S GONNA DIE BECAUSE EVERYONE’S WORKING AGAINST HIM EVEN GOD AND THERE’S NO HOPE AND I FEEL LIKE MY ONLY OPTION IS DEATH

Ascanio: LET THEM INSULT HIM WHAT DOES HE CARE GOD WILL HELP HIM BECAUSE HE IS BOLD SO I HAVE HOPE AND NO ONE’S PETTY VENGEANCE CAN STOP HIM

Fieramosca and Balducci: AT LAST HE IS COMING TO HIS DESERVED RUIN AND WE WILL HAVE OUR VENGEANCE

*The Pope’s retinue moves towards the Pope as if to protect him, but he signals them to stop.*

The Pope’s Retinue: WHAT AN INDULGENCE HE SHOULD HAVE BEEN PUNISHED ALREADY AND HE DOESN’T DESERVE THIS CHANCE

*Everyone leaves.*

Notes

Scene 2: **

Cellini’s foundry. The furnace is at the back; there is one door each at right and left. Some of Cellini’s other works are there. A clock strikes 4 PM.

*Ascanio runs in.*

Ascanio: Tralalalalalalalalalala…

What’s the matter with me? I just feel so overwhelmed and weary with all this drama right now but TOO BAD because when I feel sad I just laugh and sing tralalala and then suddenly I feel dizzy and happy again!

So our bronze baby is getting its baptism of fire tonight: the Colosseum will be the church, the Pope will be the godfather, and all the people of Rome will be the witnesses! Tralalala honestly thinking about that overwhelms me even more but you know what? It’s okay; I’ll just laugh and sing tralalalala…

*Quick note: during this next part, Ascanio imitates both Cellini and the Pope.*

HAHAHA THAT WHOLE THING WITH CELLINI AND THE POPE WAS THE FUNNIEST THING EVER BECAUSE THE POPE WAS LIKE ‘Take the man away!’ and Cellini was like ‘NOT SO FAST I’LL DESTROY THIS MODEL FIRST’ and the Pope was like ‘fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine I give in because I guess I’m a total pushover’ and Cellini was like ‘I want forgiveness for all my sins’ and the Pope was like ‘sure whatever’ and then Cellini was like ‘I ALSO want Teresa’ and the Pope was like ‘yeah cool okay’ and THEN Cellini was like ‘and I want the rest of the day to cast the statue!’ and the Pope was like ‘sounds good’ and THEN SUDDENLY THE POPE GRABBED MY MASTER’S HEAD and he said he would HANG HIM if he didn’t finish the statue by the end of the day! Is that all? Oh, you’ll hang! You understand? Ah, Holy Father, what an indulgence!

great THAT overwhelmed me too and I feel sad again but I’ll just do what I always do and just laugh and sing tralalalala and everything will be okay! ***

*Cellini enters and signals Ascanio to leave, which he does.*

Cellini: Alone, just me, my courage, and my audacity, about to have the fight of my life—and all Rome is watching! Very well, then; let the winds bring the storm, let them rile up all the waves, and let me sail straight into it! This is the story of my life...what a life!

Why could I not be a simple shepherd, leading my sheep and wandering through the wildness of the mountains? Free, alone, at peace, with no need to do any useless work for anyone else...I would wander far from all these busy cities and I would sing to my heart’s content...and at night I would sleep on the ground in a little hut, but I would sleep so peacefully, it would be like sleeping in my mother’s arms as a baby! Ah, what a dream! What a life!

Metalworkers: *singing outside* How happy the sailors, those children of the waves, are…

Cellini: ugggggggggggggggh not that song AGAIN

Metalworkers: ...they happily follow the wind wherever it blows…

Cellini: something bad ALWAYS happens whenever they sing that stupid song

Metalworkers: ...and when the boat sinks, the ocean is their tomb…

*Ascanio comes back.*

Ascanio: That sad song is bad luck!

Cellini: If they lose heart, we’ll fail!

*calling out to the workers* We are sailors who sail on metal! To rule the waves is easy; the real triumph is to rule over fire as we do!

Cellini and Ascanio: TAKE HEART AND HAVE COURAGE IF WE CAN JUST HOLD ON FOR ONE MORE DAY WE’LL ALL CELEBRATE TOMORROW

Chorus: *even more sadly than before* How happy the sailors, those children of the waves, are…

Cellini: *putting on an apron* Alright, let’s go to work, no more dilly-dallying!

*Loud knocking on the door.*

WHO IS IT

*Ascanio runs to the door and opens it, then hurries back.*

Ascanio: IT’S FIERAMOSCA

*Fieramosca enters with two swordsmen.*

Cellini: uggggggggggh not him hi, what do you want?

Fieramosca: Cellini, I have come to send you to Hell.

Cellini: ‘nyah nyah nyah Cellini I have come to send you to Hell nyah nyah nyah’ what do you MEAN you BUFFOON

Fieramosca: okay fine, I’ll say it differently so your tiny little brain will understand: I demand satisfaction for your insults.

Cellini: You’re joking, right?

Fieramosca: Uh, no.

Ascanio: Oh, really?

Fieramosca: NO I’M NOT JOKING I DEMAND SATISFACTION NOW

Cellini: BUT I CAN’T LEAVE

Fieramosca: So you do not accept the challenge, you coward?

Cellini: Pot calling kettle black, I see.

Fieramosca: You don’t accept?

Cellini: FINE WE FIGHT HERE

Fieramosca: No! If I kill you in your house, even if we are legitimately dueling, I’m an assassin. That’s the law. We fight elsewhere.

Cellini: OH I SEE HOW IT IS YOU WANT ME TO NOT BE ABLE TO FINISH but, God willing, I’ll teach you a fine lesson about messing with the wrong guy, which you SHOULD HAVE LEARNED last night but I guess you did not. Your desired location?

Fieramosca: I will be waiting for you behind St. Andrew’s cloister.

Cellini: Very well. I will be there.

Fieramosca: And I’ll send you to Hell.

*He leaves with his swordsmen.*

Cellini: This couldn’t have been timed worse. Ascanio, go get my sword.

*He does so, and the door opens again.*

godDAMMIT Fieramosca why are you alrea—

*He realizes that the person who has come in is not Fieramosca but Teresa.*

Teresa! Good God! TERESA!!!

Teresa: MY DAD HAS BETRAYED US

Cellini: what NOW

Teresa: So you know how the Pope said that no one from either Tuscany or Rome could marry me until the end of the day? ****

Cellini: ...I somehow did not hear about that?

Teresa: well that’s a thing ANYWAY even though the Pope himself made that order, my dad was like ‘screw this’ and was packing to take me away from Rome, but I slipped out and ran here as fast as I could to see you!

*Ascanio returns and gives Cellini his sword.*

What are you doing with that?

Cellini: Honey, I’ll be back soon.

Teresa: NO STAY HERE YOU’RE GONNA GET INTO A FIGHT

Cellini: ...that’s kinda the point?

Teresa: I’M NOT LETTING YOU GO

Cellini: TERESA IT’S OKAY I’M GONNA SEND YOUR FIANCÉ TO HELL

Teresa: wait WHAT

Cellini: Fieramosca came here and insulted me and challenged me to a duel.

Teresa: IT’LL BE A TRAP (knowing him and also because this is how every duel in the history of French opera turns out)

Cellini: Calm down, it’ll be fine.

Teresa: NO IT WON’T

Cellini: Look: your fiancé isn’t anything near a Hercules; he’s a buffoon with an extremely inflated ego and I’m gonna teach him a lesson he will never forget.

*He leaves with Ascanio.*

Teresa: seriously NO ONE listens to me around here and now I’m here all alone

Metalworkers: *offstage* CELLINI WHERE ARE YOU WHY DID YOU LEAVE

Teresa: What’s going on?

Metalworkers: LET’S GO

Teresa: If he doesn’t come back, I’m done for…

*Francesco, Bernardino, and the other metalworkers leave their work behind and come onstage.*

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: LET’S GO WE’VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS

Teresa: What is happening???

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: EVEN THOUGH WE AIN’T GOT HATS OR BADGES WE’RE A UNION JUST BY SAYING SO AND THE WORLD WILL KNOW

Teresa: WHAT ARE YOU DOING

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: WE’RE ALL LEAVING

Teresa: BUT WHAT ABOUT CELLINI

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: HE MAY OWN THE WORLD BUT HE DON’T OWN US WE’VE BEEN DOWN TOO LONG AND WE’VE PAID OUR DUES

Teresa: Look, he’ll be back soon—

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: WE BEEN KEEPING SCORE EITHER HE GIVES US OUR RIGHTS OR WE GIVES HIM A WAR

Teresa: Please, go back to work, he’ll pay you tomorrow—

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: SO HE GAVE HIS WORD? WELL IT AIN’T WORTH BEANS NOW HE’S GONNA SEE WHAT ‘STOP THE FURNACES’ REALLY MEANS

Teresa: He’ll pay you very well—

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: BUT WE NEED MONEY TO LIVE

Teresa: (Holy Virgin, don’t abandon us now!) I’M NOT LEAVING YOU

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: LET’S LEAVE

Teresa: PLEASE I’M BEGGING YOU

*Fieramosca enters and Teresa sees him.*

OH GOD CELLINI’S DEAD

*She faints. Francesco and Bernardino help her up and support her.*

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: wait WHAT

Fieramosca: What...what is the meaning of this?!

Teresa: *reviving and pointing to Fieramosca* Good workers...that man has killed your master...avenge him!

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: he WHAT OH HE KILLED CELLINI HE WILL PAY FOR THIS LET’S KILL HIM

*They start attacking Fieramosca.*

Fieramosca: NO NO STOP IT I AM YOUR FRIEND

*Gold coins fall out of his pockets; the workers see them.*

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: Dude, why do you have so much money on you? Not that we care, but you could get robbed.

Fieramosca: I was just coming to give you a better salary than you get here…

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: A BETTER SALARY WOULD BE NICE BUT NOT FROM YOU BECAUSE YOU KILLED CELLINI SO WHAT SHOULD WE DO ABOUT THIS OH WE KNOW LET’S THROW YOU INTO THE FURNACE

Fieramosca: WAIT NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I’M YOUR FRIEND

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: THROW HIM INTO THE FURNACE

*Chaos ensues. Suddenly, from nearby:*

Cellini: HEY WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE

*Cellini and Ascanio enter.*

Teresa, Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: OMG YOU’RE ACTUALLY ALIVE

Cellini: Indeed I am! Why wouldn’t I be?

*Teresa rushes over to Cellini and embraces him.*

Teresa: THANK GOD YOU’RE OKAY

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: WE ALL THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD AND THAT FIERAMOSCA KILLED YOU

Cellini: Well then, rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated.

*He goes over to Fieramosca, who is sweating and panting like an ox.*

What were you doing here while I was waiting for you behind St. Andrew’s cloister?

Fieramosca: I was coming...I’m coming…

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: YEAH HE WAS COMING ALRIGHT HE WAS COMING TO TRY TO HIRE ALL OF US

Cellini: Let me get this straight: you were trying to bribe my entire workshop?

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: YEAH HE WAS

Cellini: watch out because I’m about to get VERY ANGRY IF YOU DIDN’T ALREADY GET THE HINT

Fieramosca: I was coming...I’m coming…

Cellini: You’ve come—to work!

Everyone Else: wait WHAT

Cellini: YES HE WILL WORK GET AN APRON ON HIM AND MAKE SURE HE TAKES HIS PLACE IN THE WORKSHOP AND DOESN’T TRY TO SABOTAGE ANYTHING OR BY GOD—

Teresa, Ascanio, Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: THIS IS THE BEST IDEA EVER C’MON FIERAMOSCA GET TO WORK OR CELLINI WILL MAKE YOU TAKE A VERY UNPLEASANT BATH IN A BUNCH OF MELTED BRONZE

Fieramosca: ugh not this AGAIN very well I’ll go to work

*He puts on an apron.*

Cellini, Teresa, Ascanio, Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: Alright, everyone, it’s time to go back to work and finish everything up!

Fieramosca: I’ve already taken one very unpleasant bath this week and I don’t want another so let’s go to work

Ascanio: THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER

*Everyone goes to work except Teresa and Ascanio.*

*****Teresa: I feel much better about this now, but the sky is getting dark…

Ascanio: Have courage! Before long, we’ll be through the storm and into a safe port and everything will be okay.

*He goes to join Cellini and the others. The Pope enters with his retinue and Balducci.*

Balducci: TERESA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

The Pope: Be quiet!

*Teresa kneels before the Pope.*

Teresa: Holy Father, forgive me!

The Pope: Rise, my child. Tell me: how did you get here?

Balducci: EXCUSE ME—

The Pope: IN THE NAME OF GOD SHUT UP

Teresa: Well, my father wanted to take me away from Rome so I couldn’t marry Cellini, but I thought you would be forgiving, so I came here and joined Cellini in order to wait for you and the casting and hopefully my marriage to Cellini!

The Pope: oh Dio mio you really should honor your father, BUT your father failed entirely and very much dropped the ball in actively trying to go against my orders, so I forgive you.

Now, tell me, where is the man of the hour?

Teresa: There he is now!*****

*Cellini enters and acknowledges the Pope.*

The Pope: Well, have you finished?

Cellini: Not quite yet, Your Holiness, but everything is on track to be done soon, thank God; the metal is heating up right now and all that needs to happen is that the metal melt and flow into the mold, the very bowels of the earth, and become holy at your signal!

Balducci: The braggart!

The Pope: He’s faking his cheerfulness and honestly, it really annoys me, but we must wait and see how this goes. Very well: begin.

*Cellini signals the workers to begin. They work for a while to some of the slappiest orchestral music ever written in opera, until Fieramosca leaves his work and runs up to Cellini.* ******

Fieramosca: WE NEED MORE METAL OR ELSE WE’LL STOP WORKING

Cellini: What are you saying?

Fieramosca: WE NEED MORE METAL OR ELSE WE’LL STOP WORKING

Cellini: Let me check this out myself. If you’re lying, you’re in big trouble. If you’re telling the truth, I’m in big trouble…

*He runs to check on the work, leaving a very embarrassed Fieramosca behind.*

Balducci: Fieramosca?! Is that you?!

Fieramosca: ...Yeah.

Balducci: What are you wearing that for?

Fieramosca: Well, uh, it’s a long story…

Balducci: And your face is covered in soot! Really, I don’t understand you at all sometimes.

Fieramosca: Uh, well...shouldn’t even rival artists help one another every now and then?

*Cellini returns.*

Cellini: WE’RE DOING FINE FIERAMOSCA GET BACK TO WORK

*He gestures threateningly at Fieramosca, who immediately backs down and returns to the furnace, followed by Cellini.*

Teresa and Ascanio: He looks so pale! Dear God, don’t abandon him now!

Balducci and the Pope: He looks so pale! He’s getting nervous; he might be in trouble!

*Cellini returns, flustered.*

Cellini: Excuse me, but I really need to be back there supervising the casting. We’re getting pretty close now; we just added more metal to the furnace. Everything is being melted and it is all going very well.

*He goes back to supervise. Exactly fourteen seconds later, Francesco and Bernardino get his attention with a very unwelcome twist.*

Francesco and Bernardino: CELLINI THE METAL IS CONGEALING *******

Everyone Else: wait WHAT

Francesco and Bernardino: WE DON’T KNOW HOW IT’S HAPPENING BUT THE METAL IS CONGEALING

Everyone Else: THAT’S ACTUALLY REALLY BAD

Francesco and Bernardino: WE NEED MORE METAL

Cellini: But there should be more back there. Has it all been used?

Francesco and Bernardino: WE DON’T HAVE ANY MORE METAL WE NEED METAL NOW

Cellini: BUT I DON’T HAVE ANY MORE METAL

Everyone Else: you don’t have WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!

Cellini: I’M DONE FOR

Everyone Else: HE’S DONE FOR

The Pope: Well, that’s the one thing that can make him dumbfounded.

Balducci: FINALLY HE’LL BE HANGED

Everyone: oh sh—oh shoot he’s done for

Balducci: *ironically* Oh, you, such a genius as you are, are tortured by just a simple little nothing? You know everything, your skill is infinite! Turn that little frown upside-down!

Cellini: you’re not helping and I would say some choice words to you but we’re both in the presence of the Pope and that is the only thing restraining me at the moment

Francesco, Bernardino, and The Workers: WE NEED METAL NOW

Francesco: WE’RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME THE FIRE’S GOING OUT

Cellini: Wait! What...what should I do?

Francesco, Bernardino, and The Workers: WE JUST NEED METAL MORE METAL MORE METAL

Cellini: DEAR GOD YOU’RE MY ONLY HOPE LEFT SO PLEASE HELP ME OUT HERE BECAUSE I’M SO CLOSE TO GIVING IN TO DESPAIR AND I’M REALLY TRYING MY BEST DOWN HERE

Balducci: Um, not to spoil the mood or anything, but perhaps you should wait to chat with God until after we find out what happens with this statue?

Cellini: that doesn’t even make sense

Balducci: I mean you can give thanks then on the extreme off-chance that you actually pull this off.

Cellini: I’M SAVED GOD IS HELPING ME BECAUSE I JUST GOT AN IDEA

WORKERS GRAB EVERYTHING METAL YOU CAN FIND TAKE EVERYTHING FROM THE WORKSHOP AND THROW IT IN THE FURNACE

Francesco and Bernardino: WHAT YOU WANT US TO GET YOUR OTHER ARTWORKS AND THROW THEM IN THERE?!?!?!?!

Cellini: I DON’T CARE JUST GRAB ANYTHING METAL YOU CAN FIND INCLUDING MY ARTWORKS AND THROW IT IN NO MATTER WHAT METAL IT’S MADE OF IF IT’S METAL GRAB IT

*Ascanio grabs a candelabra and throws it in. Cellini does the same with every metal object he can find. Ascanio, Francesco, Bernardino, and some of the other workers start bringing in some of Cellini’s metal sculptures and passing them to other workers so they can be thrown into the furnace.*

Teresa: IT’S ALMOST TOO MUCH TO BEAR I HOPE HE MAKES IT IN THE END

The Pope: HE HAS SUCH BOLDNESS WILL HE MAKE IT IN THE END

Balducci: HE’S GOING MAD AND HE’S RUINING HIMSELF FOR A HOPELESS CAUSE

*The metal collection continues. The workers keep melting the objects and sculptures in the furnace. Suddenly there is a large explosion and the lid of the crucible mold is blown off.*

Teresa, Balducci, and the Pope: WHAT WAS THAT NOISE WHAT’S GOING ON DID IT HAPPEN OR NO

*Cellini, not daring to look, runs to the front.*

Cellini: IT EXPLODED I’M DONE FOR

Workers: LONG LIVE CELLINI VIVAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

*Everyone turns to see the molten metal pour into the mold. The casting is successful.*

Everyone: VICTORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*Fieramosca pushes through the crowd to find Cellini.*

Fieramosca: HEY LEMME THROUGH I WANT TO FIND MY DEAR FRIEND CELLINI AND EMBRACE HIM

Balducci: I KNEW HE COULD DO IT ALL ALONG SO TERESA HERE’S YOUR FUTURE

Cellini: well well well which of these two is the more cowardly suck-up???

Holy Father, I have completed the casting.

The Pope: Well, since God has blessed both your work and your boldness, I will hold up my end of the deal: I officially pardon you, Benvenuto Cellini.

Cellini: Teresa!

Teresa: Cellini!

Francesco, Bernardino, Workers, and Spectators: VIVA CELLINI

Teresa, Fieramosca, and Ascanio: IMMORTAL GLORY TO CELLINI

The Workers: Gold shines like the sun and rubies like fire in the night…

Teresa, Fieramosca, Balducci, Ascanio, Francesco, and Bernardino: GLORY TO HIM

Cellini: ONE LAST ROUND OF OUR SONG

Ascanio, Francesco, and Bernardino: LIKE YOU SAID JUST THE LAST VERSE BECAUSE IT’S THE BEST

TRA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA—

HONOR TO THE MASTER METALWORKERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*General celebration.*

Notes

THE END

Up Next: Così fan tutte

#opera #opera tag #Benvenuto Cellini #Berlioz #Hector Berlioz #Henri Auguste Barbier #Léon de Wailly #Opera Simplified

8 notes · View notes

khoicesbyk · 4 years

Text

The Good Captain.

Author’s Note: This is my version of what book 2 of Distant Shores should be like. Y’know the book 2 that we readers of Distant Shores rightfully deserved! One more thing: in this fanfic, the MC’s last name has been changed to Bennett but; in the game it’s Carter. I decided to change it from Carter to Bennett; because Bennett sounds better to me. Also; her original occupation has been changed as well.

***Rated: Mature 18+. Contains sexual content, nudity, some violence and strong language.

***Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters.

***Characters: Captain Edward Mortemer (LI), Kyra Bennett (MC), Robert Finnegan (Main Antagonist), Charlie, Ginny, Jonas, Maggie, Samuel, Octavia, Henry, Axton, Adelia, Kendrick and Oliver Cochrane (Side Characters)

***Disclaimer: All character names (except MC) and some dialogues belong to Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 2,830 words.

Chapter 1: The Return: Part 1.

Ten weeks…

That’s how long it had been.

Ten long weeks since…Kyra Bennett was sent back to her own time.

Ten weeks since…she had felt ocean spray hit her face or felt the sea breeze in her hair.

Ten weeks since…she heard the pirate songs and tales.

Ten weeks since…she was taken from the most lovable band of pirate misfits.

Ten weeks since…she had the adventure of her or anyone’s life or lifetime for that matter.

It had been ten weeks since…she was ripped away from the arms of HER Captain. A GOOD Captain. A FIERCE Captain. A Captain who’s name is known across the seas…

Captain Edward Mortemer.

She missed the crew so much. But; she missed him most of all.

She often thought of him and the adventure they had together. The stolen looks and smiles they gave one another. And she DEFINITELY thinks about; the kisses and the one incredible night of raw passion, that they shared. She thinks about the night he captured her heart.

“I’m yours, Kyra…Until the end of time…”

“Now…I want the future we saw together. The adventure. The laughter.”

“Aye, especially the family.”

“Then I’ll savor every moment of this night. And I’ll wait for you.”

“Fate brought us together once. And I don’t believe this is where our story ends.”

“No. I told you, Kyra…you’ve taught me how to dream.”

His words…his promises…have played back in her head every day since; she was sent back to her time. Especially when she’s alone.

He was HER captain.

And the sex? Who knew an 18th century pirate could fuck like him? That was stuck in her head as well. The way he touched her, the way kissed her, the way he pleased her and especially what he said to her.

“I’ve thought of all the ways I could have you. All the ways I could take you.”

“I’ve been dying to taste you.”

Every time she thought back to those two statements; she couldn’t help but miss him all over again. And at night, when she sometimes lays awake; that’s when she finds herself wanting him. Needing him. Desperately craving him. There have been times where she’s waken up in a cold sweat, with her heart thundering in her chest because; she dreamt that she felt him.

She could still hear his voice in her ear. She could still feel his fingers on her skin. And; she could especially still taste his lips on hers. She wanted him. She deserved him. She craved him. She needed him. She was his as much as he was hers.

But he’s gone. He’s back in the past. And she; along with her heart and feelings are in the present. It wasn’t fair. When she closed the portal; she’d hoped that she would’ve been able to stay. Especially after seeing what was supposed to be her future with him. In her heart and in her soul; she wanted to stay with him and his crazy, lovable crew.

Why couldn’t she stay with him?

That was a question that lingered on her heart.

Ten weeks…

It has been that long since she last seen him.

Her captain. Her Edward.

This sexy beast was everything she wanted in a man.

He was fierce, protective, FIERCELY loyal, sorta funny (although she didn’t always laugh at his brand of “comedy”), commanding yet fair minded, smart, adaptive to changing situations, strong (in EVERY sense and definition of the word), snarky (whether he knew it or not; is another story) but mostly; he was drop dead gorgeous.

She never could understand why, he didn’t have a wife. All the single maidens in his home the island of Tiburon, swooned whenever he walked by.

So why didn’t he choose one of them?

Because once again; Edward was drop dead gorgeous! And for a black man in those days; that was a helluva gift.

He had to be 6’3ish although she was never quite sure (they didn’t exactly measure height in those days). He was blessed with the chiseled physique of a Greek God. His 18th century British tinged baritone, always managed to turn her into a puddle. His brown eyes were intense and always smoldering. Hell, there were times where she could’ve sworn; she was being undressed, by those very beautiful eyes of his. He has a devilishly charming smile and smirk that always stopped her cold in her tracks.

He’s also an excellent marksman and even better swordsman.

His hair was in long, beautifully flowing dreadlocks, that he always kept pulled back. And Lord knows; the man‘s got a cannon between his legs! If she had to guesstimate what his actual size was, she’d guess he had to be 8 1/2-9 inches from base to tip. And as she discovered; he knew what to do with it. His hands, like his arms and his back were strong.

That is Captain Edward Mortemer. She has so many memories of him; and that misfit crew of his. They became something of a family to her.

She will never forget the sword fight that she got into with Edward. Even though she lost; she had impressed him with how adept she was. That; and well she was a bit distracted. It was also the first time she’d ever seen him with his shirt off.

She will never forget; choosing to man the cannons with Jonas and Ginny (Ginny Girl as she was affectionately called). Learning sails with Kendrick or how to tie proper knots with Maggie. Fighting and defeating the backstabbing mutineers Octavia and Samuel (although his role in the mutiny came as a shock to everyone) on The Poseidon’s Revenge. Plundering her very first ship. Meeting the twins Adelia and Axton (Ada and Ax as they like to be called); and recruiting them to join the crew. There’s also learning how to properly shoot a pistol with Charlie. She didn’t really have that many memories with Henry; outside of his not so tasty cooking.

She’ll never forget; throwing wine in the face of Admiral Cochrane after telling him off. She even has the memory of learning that the mysterious Oliver (whom she met the night, the navy invaded Tiburon) is not only Lieutenant Oliver but he’s Admiral Cochrane’s son (not that she cared to know that tidbit of information). Then; there’s dancing with Edward at the Governor’s Ball and sneaking into the governor’s bedroom with Charlie.

Then; there’s her favorite memory of them all. Touching the pirate medallion and seeing the future; she thought she was supposed to have with Edward.

And what a glorious future it was! They had gotten married and settled down on Tiburon. Where she became pregnant with and gave birth to their son. She remembers standing on the hill and watching the sunset over the ocean. She remembers Edward coming up behind her, wrapping his strong arms around her waist and watching the sunset with her.

In that moment she was happy. That was supposed to be her absolute paradise. Her dream come true. She would have the man she fell in love with, and all would be right with the world.

But unfortunately; that happiness, that absolute paradise, that dream…would never come true. Because not only she see her dream come true but; she also saw her nightmarish reality. She was returned to future and Edward was nothing more than a lonely legend. And it became an all too painful reality; once they finally reached the center of Queen Magdalena’s temple.

All because; of what the inscription on the stone at the base of the portal told.

My heart is empty…

Time and space rent asunder…

The ancient artifact…

From my hand was plundered…

Return the compass…

And the fabric will be mended…

Peace restored…

All wounds rescinded…

The golden compass had to be returned to its rightful place; in order for time to be restored and the portal to be closed.

She knew what she had to do but that doesn’t mean she liked it; or even wanted to do it at all for that matter. But as she soon found out; sometimes life forces your hand.

A great battle soon ensued between The Captain and The Admiral. The two enemies locked horns and swords with each other.

Edward would eventually get the upper hand by; using his sword to pluck the golden compass out of The Admirals grasp. But it didn’t take the old bastard long to regain the upper hand once again.

For you see, in order to get to the heart of the temple; Kyra and Edward had to go through a series of booby traps.

Because what’s an ancient, very creepy and seemingly haunted temple without a few booby traps?

They able to dodge an axe that swung out of the ceiling. As well as the floor suddenly crumbling beneath their feet. But they weren’t able to dodge poisoned flying darts. Or at least Edward wasn’t able to dodge them. In an attempt to shield her from danger, his jacket was pierced by a dart. And what he thought was nothing but a scratch; turned out to be something much, much worse. He was slowly being poisoned and didn’t realize it, until he collapsed before they entered the heart of the temple.

She couldn’t let him die. She had to save him. And the only way to do that, was by restoring the compass to its rightful place. And so she did; she put the compass back where it belonged. And by doing so; she briefly gained the amazing power to reverse time itself. She used her power to get rid of the old bastard once and for all, reverse Edward’s wound and buy herself a few more hours in the past with Edward.

And once that was all done; she was sent back to the future. Back to the modern world and her modern life. Back to her job as a historian; at Smithsonian Museum of Natural History in Washington D.C.

She was tasked with researching for a new exhibit opening up about the golden age of piracy. And booyyy did she ever do her research! When she first started; she wanted to research and learn about, who the greatest black pirates was during the golden age. And all she could find was, the two conflicting legends of Black Caesar.

That was until one day when she got to work; there was a mysterious box just sitting on her desk. It contained an array of pirate artifacts. Including maps, letters, a diary of some sort, a few medallions, various coins, a sword and a compass. A golden compass.

“Well; what the hell am I supposed to do with all of this?!”, she thought to herself.

She had no idea that what was about to happen to her; would change her life forever.

After she came back from lunch one afternoon; and began writing her notes again, she noticed a strange glow coming from the inside the box with the pirate artifacts. When she opened the box she saw that; it was the compass that was glowing.

“Ooooooooooooookaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyy…what the hell? Why is this thing glowing?”, she asked herself.

As she reached for the compass; she saw a face. A very handsome face. The face she saw was his.

“Kyra…I’m waiting for you…come find me…”, he said.

She initially backed away from the glow but; her curiosity won out in the end. She had to know who that handsome stranger was. She had to know what he meant. And so, she gathered up her courage and grabbed the compass. Little did she know that the compass; would be her key to the adventure of her life.

What was weeks in the past; wound being maybe a day in the future, when she got back.

Because she returned to where she was sitting at her desk. The box was still there. And when she looked in the box; everything was there. Even the compass. Only this time it wasn’t glowing. It had gone back to being just a regular compass. Time had truly gone back to the way it was. The only difference was her.

She had the memories of her adventure, of the crew and especially of him.

A few days later; she put her memories to paper. And the exhibit on the greatest black pirate of them all was born. It was an exhibit all about Captain Edward Mortemer and his crew. How they sailed the sea. How they outmatched and outmaneuvered The British Royal Navy. It turned him and the crew from criminals to heroes. It told the story of their trials and tribulations. And at the center was the golden compass and the sword.

She had the exhibit explain how precious they were to him; and the legends that followed his name and adventures. And she couldn’t have been prouder. The exhibit even brought her some form of closure. Or so she thought.

One night while Kyra was in her office working late on another project; there was this terrible glass break.

“What the hell was that?!”, she exclaimed.

When she got to the floor of the exhibit; she couldn’t believe who it was she saw standing there, with the compass in his hand.

It was Robert. He was alive and staring her down.

“Hello Miss Bennett! It’s nice to see you again!”, he said to her with a sinister tone in his voice.

“No fucking way! It’s impossible! You’re supposed to be dead! I watched the Admiral kill you!”, she said. She couldn’t believe what was happening.

”No he did. He indeed killed me. For a second anyway. You see, I would’ve stayed dead; if he hadn’t have shoved me through the portal, before you closed it that is. And as the inscription read: all wounds rescinded. Annnd here I am!”, he replied with a wicked grin.

“This is not happening!”, she told him.

“Ohhh…but is my dear girl! And now that I have the two items that I needed; my crew and I will be off!”, he said with glee in his eyes.

“Crew?! What crew?!“, she asked.

“Ohh…why them of course!”, he replied before gesturing for her to look behind her.

When she turned around; fear instantly gripped her heart and soul. Behind her; a crew of dangerous looking individuals seemingly melted out of the shadows. A crew of 8 men and 4 women stood at the ready.

“Miss Bennett…allow me to introduce my new crew!”, he says to her.

“But! You’re not a captain anymore.”, she replies.

“I am now!”, he replies in a tone that’s both sinister and gleeful.

“Wait! You’re actually going back?!”, she asks.

“Of course I am! Can’t unlock Poseidon’s tomb if I’m here, can I?”, he replies.

“What the hell are you rambling about?!”, she replied clearly confused.

“If you think that Queen Magdalena, was the only source of power in the seas; you clearly haven’t done your research.”, he told her.

“You’re still rambling!”, she replies.

“Here. Let me offer you a free history lesson. You know of Atlantis right?”, he asked.

“Yes, I know about the legends of Atlantis.”, she answered.

“Clearly you don’t girl! Because they’re not legends! They’re true!”, he tells her.

“Atlantis is the tale of Plato. And although he was a great philosopher; he was out of his mind! Atlantis is NOT real! It’s just a legend!”, she answers.

“Perhaps you’d like a demonstration; ohhh Pearson…”, he commands one of the pirates, “Miss Bennett…meet my first mate.”

Pearson, opens his hand to reveal a stone of some sort.

“What the hell is that?!”, she asks.

“This is a fragment of a key. A key to the greatest treasure of the seas”, he says to her.

“Meaning…”, she responds.

“Meaning…I’m about to go back to visit 7 sea lords. And take their key fragments.”, he tells her.

“The 7 lords of the seas is a myth! Robert you’re chasing ghosts!”, she says.

“No, I’m chasing greatness girl!”, he snapped at her, clearly agitated.

Part 2 coming soon! @txemrn @choicesficwriterscreations

#choices #choices fanfiction #choices tna #fanfic #khoicesbyk #pixelberry #choices stories you play #distant shores #captain edward #edward mortemer

5 notes · View notes

secretsantasides · 4 years

Text

Gift #8: My Universe

Gift for @enby-fander

Prompt: Analogical High School AU

My Universe

Characters: Logan, Deceit (called Daniel), Virgil, mentions of Remus, mentions of Patton

Pairings: Romantic Analogical, Platonic Loceit, Brotherly Anxciet, implied Brotherly Logicality

Warnings: Alludes to homelessness and poverty, sad boi Virgil

Summary: Thank you to the two anons who showed up on @enby-fander's account and gave me major inspiration right when I needed it. Here you go, Trans Virgil and Nonbinary Logan that starts as angst and ends as fluff.

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

As the rest of Kingston High School's sophomores rushed into the cafeteria, Daniel Hyde instead ducked through an out-of-the-way, yet familiar, pair of dark, wooden, though probably fake wood, double doors. His head was down as he stalked over to the Fiction section, deliberately searching. For what, bystanders had no clue.

They parted, anxious to induce the wrath of Dan, a boy rumoured to be in a gang. None of them would put such a thing past the punk boy. He wasn't someone to mess with.

He walked with such a determination that they knew he was on the hunt. His prey? Another, hidden from all but him.

Logan Jekyll was seated in the middle of the mystery section, shrouded in darkness. The junior knew these shelves well, so much so that they could traverse them without requiring sight. That way, they had no reason to flick the switches at the start of each row to the "on" position, which would illuminate the row of dim fluorescent bulbs dangling above. Logan liked it better in the dark, anyway. It hid the introvert from those pesky freshmen. The ones who liked to taunt Logan for some unknown reason.

"Oh look, it's genius Jekyll. Aren't you the one with the ridiculously high GPA? Highest in your year?"

They gave a quick, curt nod to both questions, not speaking. Instead, they continued to read their book, turning the page after a few seconds of silence.

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde was most definitely living up to the praise they had heard it received, primarily by the Hyde brothers. Daniel had always pressed them to read it, so they had finally began the novel.

As they read, laughs were heard. The rowdy students had become bored with the junior and had stampeded away towards the computers. Logan never understood what they seemed to find so funny.

"Hey, first chair Jekyll, heard you got the solo for the next concert."

When they nodded, quick and curt, the group started laughing yet again. All the way over to the doors. Probably after they walked out the doors, too.

Logan recognized someone in that mob as the sophomore who liked to raise hell during rehearsal, along with a few trumpet players, a bassoon, and half of percussion. He brought the baritone horn section down considerably, even with Logan there to counterbalance his pure idiocy. And to think, this kid is laughing at him. Sheer stupidity, all of it.

"Jekyll, my man, the reason our debate team isn't shit. You're captain, right? Who's second, in your book?"

At the first question, they nodded. At the second, they scowled and looked back at his book. They did have an opinion on who would fall second, but that opinion was not owed to a group of freshmen who loiter around and taunt others. Seeing the spectacle-wearing one's scowl, the boys laughed. Turning and walking away, they kept on snickering and joking about "perfect Jekyll."

'Our debate team? You mean, my debate team.' Logan recognized none of those dumbasses as members of debate, especially not the one who initiated the conversation. He would be debating things when pigs flew.

"I found Jekyll, man of the hour. Nice speech you gave, didn't realize you could do that. Thought only seniors could."

They shook their head "no" at the statement, causing them to… big surprise… laugh at them.

At least they're eloquent enough to make a speech. These people could barely string together simple sentences, let alone write with enough skill to compose a speech at the level Logan did so at.

"Hey guys, here's Dr. Jekyll. Heard you finally found your Mr. Hyde, and you're terribly in love."

They scowled, otherwise ignoring all of them. That narrative wasn't even fitting to Robert Louis Stevenson's original story. In the end, it was revealed that Dr. Henry Jekyll and Mr. Edward Hyde were one and the same, a relationship they and their boyfriend do not possess.

"What, don't want to admit that you're gay as f*ck for Hyde?"

The scowl already adorning their features intensified some, but that was the only indicator of how pissed Logan truly was. Lacking a reaction, the group turned and walked away, laughing as they went.

Did they owe them an explanation of their love life? No, they should f*ck off. It's their damn significant other, not theirs. They were thinking of multiple profanities that could describe those idiots, but decidedly did not execute them aloud. Their choices would make probably Remus Kingston proud, a boy who has an alphabet of swear words, an alphabet that only skims the surface of his cursing dictionary.

As Logan sat there, reminiscing about how much of an asshole all of those freshmen were, Dan was slowly honing down his search radius.

He had visited most of Logan's normal rows, besides mystery and parts of nonfiction. As he walked to non-fiction, he stopped abruptly and turned to walk down the row of mystery novels. Logan truly adored the who-dunits covering these shelves, or so he's heard. He may have good luck looking here, as long as his brother knew Jekyll well. Dan was certain he did.

Don't fail me now, nerd, I need you, he thought, breathing deeply.

He strolled casually into the aisle, flicking the switch at the start of the row. The dim fluorescent lining the ceiling flickered on, revealing exactly what he was looking for. Exactly who he was looking for. Logan Jekyll.

Logan hissed at the sudden lights, sparking a chuckle from the sophomore stalking towards him. They looked up, blue-green eyes meeting grey.

There was an amused smirk adorning the boy's features. Logan did not mirror the expression, but they were nonetheless glad to see the sophomore.

"Didn't realize us Hyde's had made an impression on you. Not surprised, though, with how much you see my brother."

The one clad in blue blushed a deep red at the mention of their boyfriend. Daniel laughed at the sight, before offering out his hand. Logan looked down at the palm obscured by black, fingerless gloves, bewildered as to why the other was putting his hand out. Their confusion showed, causing Dan to roll his eyes and huff.

"Take my hand, Calculator Watch, I'm helping you up. That sorry excuse for carpeting is stale as f*ck, so we might as well go sit somewhere more comfortable."

Reliasition flashed before Logan's eyes as they muttered an, "Ah." Their hand took the other's gloved one, allowing the younger boy to hoist the older off of the matted, black carpet. They now were roughly at eye-level with each other, Logan with a solid height of 5'5" and Daniel being just a half or full inch shorter.

Daniel ran one hand through his slicked back black hair, shoving the other in one pocket of his faded leather jacket. The hand brushing the hair joined the other in the pocket opposite.

"Now, Jekyll, we have a pressing matter to discuss."

The two walked in silence for a while, Daniel leading them through the hallways. Suddenly, he took a left into a classroom, Logan following behind.

The classroom was abandoned, obviously having been used as a science room at one point. There were posters adorning two of the walls, saying things like "Eat, sleep, science, repeat."

"We need to talk about my brother."

Panic flashed in the eyes of Logan, who hid the emotion quickly. Dan wouldn't have noticed if Logan had not coughed directly afterwards, drawing attention to their still shell-shocked expression

The older of the two anxiously scuffed one of their NASA-themed Vans across the linoleum tiles, before looking back at the aforementioned boy.

"Go on."

"Well, he has refused to leave his room for the past 5 days, so I wanted to ask you for…"

He hesitated, but Logan pushed him on.

"For what? Spit it out, Hyde."

Daniel coughed, before regaining his composure.

"I need your help, Jeyll. I need your f*cking help. You're the only person I know that can do anything to get my brother out of his hiding space, and that's all I care about. I'm willing to put aside our indifferences if it helps my brother. Now, tell me, will you?"

"So, what am I supposed to do again?"

The two were walking to the apartment the Hyde brothers shared.

Daniel cleared his throat. "You're supposed to get that bastard to emerge from the cave he has made out of his room. This may be a habit of his, but it has gone on longer than normal, which concerns me."

Logan chuckled. "Sounds like him, alright. At least I now know for certain you and I are talking about the same person."

Dan burst out, "Finally! Someone understands how antisocial that motherf*cker can be!"

He gestured dramatically to emphasize the point.

The older's face morphed into a grin and they began to laugh.

"Hey!" they said, through their laughter, "That's my boyfriend you're talking about!"

Daniel snorted.

"He's my brother! I'm allowed to call him an antisocial bastard."

The pair's laughter tapered off as they continued their trek.

"May I ask how far away your apartment is?"

Daniel coughed, shifting a bit awkwardly.

"Um… it's still a few minutes away, but we're heading up on it."

Logan cocked an eyebrow.

"Y'all live in the downtown area?" they asked.

Dan stayed silent, but nodded.

"My apologies for pushing the subject."

The pair had arrived at the place Daniel pointed them towards, a run-down, dirty-looking, crowded apartment building. Dan stopped multiple times before they arrived, obviously completing a routine.

First, he stopped by an older woman, who was walking across the sparsely filled parking lot with a cart. In the cart, canned food resided, all of which had a small message written on them in Sharpie.

As he reached her, Daniel pressed a can of food he procured from the pocket of his black backpack into her hands.

Logan heard her murmur, "God bless you, honey. You and your brother stay safe, alright Danny?"

They saw Dan give a warm smile towards her. "We will. Stay safe, Mrs. Cunningham."

Secondly, he waved to a group of little boys running in the lot, kicking a ball around. The one who had the ball kicked it towards Daniel, grinning brightly.

"Mr. Hyde!" the other boys shouted, having just spotted the teenager.

"Now what have I always told y'all? Call me Dan."

"Okay, Mr. Dan!" the boys chorused.

Daniel rolled his eyes, ruffling the hair of one. "I give up, y'all obviously are gonna be respectful at all times."

He paused, before clearing his throat.

"That's a good thing, boys. Respect everyone, even if it doesn't seem like they deserve it. Just gotta respect everyone."

The last part was murmured.

The boys all nodded vigorously, before one shouted, "First one to the tree over there gets to pick teams!"

They all sprinted, leaving Dan and Logan to chuckle.

"Kids, right?"

Daniel gave a half-moon smile. "Yeah."

The last stop before the Hyde apartment was at the front desk of the lobby. It could barely be considered a lobby, more like a room with a desk shoved in the corner, some assorted furniture in the other, and stairs to the upper floors. Daniel stepped up to the desk, pulling a sheet of folded notebook paper out of his jacket pocket. He set it on the desk before turning around and smoothing the worn-leather of his jacket. He popped the collar, looking Logan in the eyes.

"Let's go, Jekyll."

"Apartment 7C, correct?"

The pair had just arrived at floor 7, both out of breath. Daniel hid it better, though.

"...Yes," he composed himself, looking at the junior with a look of annoyance.

They strolled down the hall, stopping just short of the end.

APARTMENT 7C read a small, dirty plaque mounted just above the doorknob.

Dan proccured an equally rusty key from his back jean pocket. He turned to Logan and said, "Let's go get my bastard of a brother out of his damn slump."

The pair walked into the mess of an apartment, Daniel shouting out a quick, "I'm home!" to ease the other Hyde's anxieties. Though, the shouting may be contradictory, as the older Hyde brother was not a fan of loud noises.

Daniel quickly dropped the key on a rickety table close by to the door. His combat boots were shed, as Logan kicked off his Vans.

Dan turned to Logan, directing him towards his brother.

"Down the hall, first door to the left. It'll be locked, so… here."

He grabbed a penny from the counter and threw it to Logan. They caught it with ease, studying the coin. They looked up, raising an eyebrow.

"Our locks are garbage, so this should get it easy. I would've done it myself earlier this week, but I believe in the sanctitiy of one's room. That is, until you're in there for almost a week."

Logan nodded, turning to follow the instructions given.

Dan stopped them.

"I don't think he wants to see me, so I'll stay back. Jekyll, get my brother. Please."

He sounded almost desperate, so Logan obliged.

They found the door indicated easily, as there was a galaxy-patterned poster in blues and purples attached to the door with Scotch tape. It just seemed… right.

They jangled the knob a bit, discovering it was unsurprisingly locked. Logan took the penny, shoved it into the flat indentation on the rusty knob, turning slowly and carefully. It worked. The door was now unlocked.

Logan turned the handle, quickly entering the dark room. They heard a hoarse voice, dull due to lack of use, emitate from the corner.

"L-eave m-e the hell alon-e."

A throat was cleared, a few coughs ringing through the silence of the room.

"I'm fine."

Logan huffed, rumbling for the light switch mounted on the wall next to them.

Their hand knocked the switch up, prompting a hiss from the figure huddled in a corner.

"I thought you would be happier to see me. I assume I was wrong."

The figure looked up, revealing messy purple hair, tired and unfocused eyes, and a miserable expression adorning the features Logan would always find beautiful.

"Stella?"

"It's me, nebulosa."

Logan looked around the room.

It was very… Virgil.

He had a few band posters on the walls, hoodies with patches and stitching and a worn leather-jacket (much like Daniel's) hanging in the closet alongside his school-issued letterman's jacket, a black guitar propped up nicely in a corner, a chair that looked similar to those in the small dining room set with his low-quality music stand, band folder, and the large, bulky case of a euphonium put aside carefully, and a few trophies and certificates earned for track, for musical achievements, or for academic accomplishments were set on the dresser or hung on the wall above it. Everything was in black and deep purple, with subtle hints of navy.

They liked the color scheme a lot, as it was quite pleasing to the eye.

Much better than their brother's mixture of bright and pastel blues, all light in tone. Patton really didn't know how to mix colors.

Logan's attention was diverted, however, from the room surrounding them when they heard sniffles from Virgil's corner.

"Hey, hey. What's wrong?"

Virgil wiped his eyes, acting as though he wasn't just crying.

"I'm just over-emotional, I guess. Damn it, peri-"

He stopped himself, a look of shock adorning his features. Logan looked upon him with a look of pity, sad-smile creeping onto their features.

"Is that why you've been isolating yourself, babe? Hey, hey, come here."

Virgil shook his head. "I'm fine," he said stubbornly.

Logan walked over to him, wrapping their arms around him.

"It's okay, stella. ...I love you."

Virgil gave a weak smile.

"I love you too, Logan."

#fanfic #secretsantasides #analogical #virgil sanders #ts virgil #logan sanders #ts logan #high school au #sanders sides

35 notes · View notes

masaru2042 · 5 years

Text

Hippity Hoppity, Stay off Railway Property!

Told as an r/entitledparents style parody. What the engines really do have to deal with when it comes to entitled passengers.

So, I’m Dana. I’m a driver of a sapient steam engine on a particular island that was made famous by a preacher writing a bunch of children’s books. I’m the driver of the NWR #4 who pulls the Wild Norwester, aka the Express, a 4-6-2 Gresley A1/A3 Pacific known as Gordon. Just a little background for those of you who don’t know who that is. Gordon was the prototype for the A1 Pacifics designed by Nigel Gresley in 1922. The only other A1 Pacific built in Doncaster by Nigel Gresley is Gordon’s younger brother Scott Gresley, aka the Flying Scotsman. The reason why Gordon is now an A1/A3 is due to a rebuilt restoring him to his original shape as ordered from Doncaster, removing his straight Sudrian, white frame, and providing him with a Kylchap double exhaust to optimize fuel and water efficiency. He also was outfitted with corridor tenders and his Sudrian frame and Fowler tender are now on display at the Sodor Railway Museum in Vicarstown.

And me? Well, I’m a transplant from Tennessee if anyone wonders why I’m not spelling in the English style, or using British slang. Or BR and NWR terminology. And Gordon’s fireman is a funny guy named Josh with an equally funny boyfriend named Brian. They both act like my big brothers. And Gordon tends to act like my no-nonsense grandpa...among other things. But we won’t get into those.

And just in case some of you still haven’t caught on. Yes, he’s that big huge jerk from the Thomas and Friends show with the models.

Well, during the summer months, we get a lot of vacationers (holiday goers for you in the UK), and yes, lots of tourists. Thanks to those books and the show, people do come from all over the world to actually see what the real engines are like. And a lot of time, there’s a lot of dissonance from the fans who are expecting the engines to act like they do on the show. They don’t. None of them do. Henry isn’t a hypochondriac that complains about every little thing he’s feeling sick over, he’s in fact a very calculating, and intelligent person who pretty much knows secrets about everyone...even me when I had first come to Sodor! Seriously, he’s really creepy! Especially when he’s asking questions in a way to phish for information. If Henry had a computer and actual hands, I have a feeling he might try to get into every government server on the planet just to see what personal secrets he could find. Henry should be working with INTERPOL not the Northwestern Railway.

Thomas is very mellow thanks to his age, Percy actually can’t stand it when people think he’s a kid when in reality he’s older than Edward! And he acts like it too. The only one the show actually got accurate was James. Yes, James is very full of himself. Not as much as he is in the show, but he loves puffing around like he’s the king. And Edward is pretty much a down to Earth guy. And Emily acts like that older neighbor your mom knows who’s been around the world and back again and loves asking about your sign. Yeah, that older neighbor. The one with the bead necklace, the incense, and flowers in her hair. I swear to God, she’s been to San Francisco. Interesting little tidbit, Emily is the original Flying Scotsman! No joke!

Well, it was a rather steamy and hot, summer day on the Island of Sodor, and yes I know what that sounds like!

We weren’t pulling the Express at this moment, we were actually just doing a tour excursion. This is normal, it allows the tourists to ride the engines belonging to the “Steam Team” as the kiddies call it. Something the engines belonging to this “Team” roll their eyes about the label. And not in the comical way the models did. The “uh-huh, whatever” kind of eye roll, and just chuff on by, not really caring.

So, it was our turn to take the train around, letting the tourists feel what it’s like to ride one of the fastest non-streamlined steam engines in the world. And the one who actually did win the Great Race, even if he nearly killed himself doing so...beating out a diesel-electric and breaking his safety valve in the process. This is something Gordon doesn’t like talking about, despite setting a world record in the process. But still, we did give the guests a proper ride.

Best way to describe Gordon gliding down the rails. He’s basically like an antique expensive roadster. You can tell the moment you tap your foot on the gas that he’s gonna floor it and show you what speed really feels like. Not your grandma’s station wagon, I’ll tell you that! Gordon, much like all the other engines, is always kept up to specs. He pretty much runs as good as the day he popped out of the factory. You wouldn’t have guessed that he’s nearing 100 years old. Unlike his brother who is feeling his age no matter how many rebuilds he’s had. If you haven’t come out of the coaches noticing your body made a dent on the seat, Gordon feels like he hasn’t done his job in making you feel his speed.

That is the power of a Gresley Race Horse.

We were cruising around, well...the train equivalent...and given that Gordon has two corridor tenders now, we could cruise for a long while. Though we did have to stop a few times just for the passengers to get out take pictures of the scenery, that sort of thing. Only this particular excursion was allowed to stop on the line. Gordon was of course outfitted with special lamps to show that we had such permission to stop and were given proper notifications from our conductor of when it was safe to stop. And when we stopped the guests were ordered to either stay in the coaches, or stay back from the train and rails themselves for safety reasons.

No standing on railway property, basically.

No standing in front of the engine on the rails.

Do not get in the way of workmen and crewmen maintaining the engine.

We were making sure that folks understood this.

If they got off for pictures, they were only allowed to be on the grass. And only when they were ready to return to their coaches were they allowed to approach the train again.

Any questions they had, they could ask any of the service personnel and attendants.

And we all had radios.

We stopped, pulled over onto a siding. And just in case he needed it since there was a lot of stopping and starting and that’s when he uses a lot more water than when he’s running, we stopped on a siding near a water tower. Josh was filling up Gordon’s canteen and I turned on that little electric fan I clipped on above my station. It ran off of Gordon’s dynamo too, and I was grateful for it.

I grabbed a cold bottled water from the cooler we had stashed near the main tender and pressed it to my forehead. Already I could hear some of the kids asking “why doesn’t Gordon produce smoke from his funnel?” or “why does he smell like fish and chips?” And well, that made me laugh. A few months ago, Sir Topham Hatt converted Gordon into a waste vegetable oil burner. So, that explains the fried food smell. Honestly, it was a good thing because it often made the passengers even more hungry, which means they’d buy more food off the food cart in the Express. Josh liked it too, he didn’t have to shovel coal anymore, just playground sand with a tiny, toy shovel into a little opening in the firebox to help keep the fire tubes from getting clogged from the oil being atomized. And Gordon liked how much cleaner he ran.

I heard a few oldtimers snort about how that’s not a real steam engine anymore because of the oil burning rather than coal and then hear Gordon personally retort back: “You better tell Duck that, then! The GWR went to oil in the 1940s due to coal shortages! And don’t get me started about the poor caloric contents of today’s coal. The wasted veggie oil actually is better for me. Even Welsh coal is barely usable now. No wonder the BR switched to diesel the way it did.”

And that’s why Gordon’s a WVO burner, folks! And if any of you are wondering, yes! He can run off of diesel fuel if he has to. Which he did once, and no, unlike in the show, the real Gordon doesn’t bitch about the smell or look down upon diesel locomotives.

Well, enter our entitled family.

I wasn’t the one who first spotted this family doing something they were instructed not to do by the attendants in the coaches. That was Josh. Gordon, on the other hand, was concentrating on what the maintenance workers were doing. Tightening a lug nut, checking the mechanical lubrication injector, the lubricant levels, his exhaust steam injectors. Clearing any debris out of the way, checking the fuel levels on the coaches. Yeah, the coaches are diesel powered now. Hatt went all out! Servers were handing out drinks to the workers and the passengers.

I heard Josh call out: “Oi! You can’t stand on that! Step away from the track!”

The mother said: “We’re trying to take a group photo!”

I felt the cab tilt to the right just slightly. Gordon’s attention was now on the family as well.

Josh: “I said, you can’t stand in the middle of the track. Get back on the grass!”

I went to the fireman’s side of the cab, stuck my head out the window to see a very plump family, a rather large man, his equally large wife, and their cherry-red faced, plump kid in a horizontal striped T-shirt. I also could see the patches of sweat under their armpits. They were sweating more than I did just by stepping out of their coaches.

Then, Gordon spoke up with that big, booming, baritone voice of his. Seriously, he should moonlight as a radio host, he’s got the timbre for it!

“You heard what my fireman said, stay off the rails! It’s for your safety.”

Well, I hopped out the door from the cab and wiped my hands on my jeans.

The family wasn’t willing to listen to Gordon, no matter how commanding he made his voice sound. The father was standing on the grass with his smartphone out, taking a picture of the boy and his mother standing in between the railroad ties. He was angled in such a way to include Gordon in the picture.

“You should smile!” said the entitled father.

Gordon growled and just sneered. He wasn’t having any of it. And if I hadn’t set the main brake, he’d probably jut forth just to scare the entitled mother and entitled brat off the track as a lesson. I could hear a clacking sound, though, Gordon was flexing his friction brakes against his wheels, his way of tensing his muscles in his frustration. His jaw was set, his teeth clenched, and his brow furrowed.

“Hey!” I called. “What the hell do you think y’all doin’? Get off the track!”

I don’t think they liked my east Tennessean accent because the mother just turned and looked at me with disgust. Like she was looking down at some dirty farmhand.

I guess Gordon saw that face too, because the moment she made it, I heard a low groan from his wheels. He sounded like he was trying to fight against the brake keeping him motionless. The moment we met, he’s been rather overprotective of me. It’s cute. I could always count on him to have my back. There was an expulsion of steam from the sides of his cylinders. And he was rearing to open up his cock valves wide just to give them a good blast of hot vapor.

But the mother stood firm.

“We’re trying to get a photo! Now go back to your food cart, little missy!”

“Release the brake,” Gordon whispered, tilting towards me.

“No,” I said.

“I’ll run them over.”

“No you won’t.”

“They’ll be a bloody smear on my buffers.”

And they would once he started off. Gordon had a lot of torque in him, he could start off in a burst like a motorcycle if he wanted. And the last thing anyone wanted was 200 tons of locomotive racing for them.

“It’s not worth it.”

“How dare that harpy talk to you in such a manner, Dana!”

“It’s fine, sugar,” I said, laying my hand on a buffer. “Just breathe.”

He said aloud: “That’s my driver! She’s not a serving girl!”

I heard the father laugh: “Girls can’t be drivers.”

I get that a lot!

And the clacking sound returned.

“You’ll ruin your pads doing that,” I told Gordon.

“And I’ll need to be looked over for hypertension,” he said. “Because I can feel the pain in the back of my smokebox already. This woman…and her oaf of a husband...”

“Just breathe...in and out, Gordon.”

He took a deep breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth. It wasn’t helping, though, as I could still hear the clacking of his brakes.

Josh had jumped down from the canteen and walked over.

“You heard what they said, off the rails, please.”

They actually listened to Josh. I tend to get that a lot. They don’t want to listen to me because they think I’m some food cart lady, despite not being dressed like one, but Josh...he looked like he belonged where he was. So, he had a more air of authority than I did. I guess it was my accent and how I try to put on that Southern sweet tea charm, you know. So, they don’t take me seriously.

I’m a redneck to them, that’s all they care about.

Obviously, they were done taking pictures.

Then, the kid turned and darted for the switch.

Points on the rails are set by switches that are either manually moved into positioned, or automatically moved into position, or done so from a signalman’s box. Here, considering the remote location of this particular siding, the point had to be set by the conductor with a lever at the side of the railroad track after the conductor got the OK from RMC (Railway Mission Control) that the track was clear for Gordon to proceed. Though this siding was on the mainline, it was quite a ways from a signalman’s box, so that’s why it had to be switched by hand from the conductor.

And yes, I realize they’re called Guards in the UK and Sodor. But I did say I’m from the US...so...conductor. And Gordon loves correcting my terminology.

Well, that kid bolted for the switch, and started messing around with it.

Gordon, me, and Josh all lurched forward.

“Step away from that, kid!” I shouted.

“Don’t touch that!” bellowed Gordon.

“What are you doing?!” Josh shouted.

The point was set so that any train needing to pass this siding could. But the boy grunted and turned the point, setting the switch to the siding. This would allow Gordon to exit the siding back onto the mainline. And that was a bad! This meant any train coming through would derail from the track being set improperly.

“NO!” all three of us cried.

I darted forth and tossed the kid from the lever. Considering I worked with steam engines for a good portion of my life, I was pretty muscular and toned. And I could toss around guys bigger than me with ease. The kid hit the ballast and obviously skinned his elbow. But I wasn’t worried about that. My concern was the switch.

Whatever train would be passing by, could very well be derailed!

Who cares about a little brat and his skinned elbow? But the EM was furious.

“How dare you assault my baby!”

Baby? That lard of a kid looked like he was 8 years old!

And Gordon was cross. (Because of course I had to put that there.)

“Baby?” he asked. “Your little piglet just very well might cause a terrible accident!”

There was vitriol dripping from his words.

“He’s only playing!” called the mother. “Let him play! He’s not hurting anyone. He’s a good boy.”

“Get that crotch goblin away from the switch!” Gordon bellowed out. “Wesley!”

Crotch Goblin. God I love you, Gordon, I thought.

Wesley was our conductor. And he was a bit of a pushover especially with how Gordon boxed the poor kid’s ears with that voice of his. Wesley was kinda new to the job and most of the times he was regulated to excursion duties. Rarely did he ever serve on the Express due to his inexperience.

I could see him fiddling with his whistle, trying to straighten his hat. He was a mess. All the while, I was jerking back and forth trying to get the switch unstuck and set back correctly. These switches sometimes got stuck because of the heat.

“Y-yes, sir, Mr. Gresley,” said Wesley.

Just a little fact that many of y’all don’t know. You think we’re the ones in charge here? The show seems to make you think that, don’t it? Nope. The engines are. Especially engines with seniority like Gordon. And he made sure everyone on his team knew it. And again, the kid’s a pushover.

“Go help Dana with the switch!” Gordon barked.

The boy was already bawling like it was the end of the world. And entitled mother was leaning down to comfort him. The noise was enough to attract the other passengers to the commotion.

“What happened?” asked Wesley.

“Kid pulled the lever,” said Josh.

“She assaulted my baby!” said the entitled mother.

“I should have you all fired!” the entitled dad shouted. “And that metal monstrosity scrapped.”

“I beg your pardon!” Gordon rounded. “Don’t spit indignation at me, sir! Your piglet has endangered lives. Wesley, is there a train coming?”

“The Express, Mr. Gresley.”

“Damn…” Gordon seemed to deflate and the color left his cheeks at the sound of a familiar, high-pitched whistle. “Henry’s coming! This is the Flying Kipper all over again. Hurry!”

Oh, god...I heard the stories of Henry’s crash. Of course I knew of it from the books, and from the show. But the real story was much more gruesome. Awdry may have said that his driver and fireman survived for the sake of the kids, but that was far from the truth. They were dead, both of them. The driver’s head was bashed into to Henry’s controls, thrown from his seat. Henry’s pipes were covered in his driver’s blood. The fireman died moments later, crushed ribs and internal bleeding from the impact. And Henry was lucky to have survived at all to be rebuilt into a Stanier Black 5. He was a changed “man” after that. Much sterner than when he arrived on the island.

“Sir,” I shouted. “You’re about to force an engine who just lived through a horrible wreck involving a point set wrong to relive that nightmare again. And endangering everyone he’s currently pulling in his coaches. When this is over, I’m making sure Hatt kicks you and your family of pork rinds off the NWR. Have fun takin’ the bus for now on! Or walkin’. Y’all look like you need a good exercise anyhoo.”

The bus on this island was terrible. Just a little FYI.

Already, Wesley was radioing the conductor on the Express, hoping to get Henry to slow down before he derailed. The whistle was even louder.

Josh and I were pulling the lever as hard as we could. A creak, and at last the lever budged. The point reset to allow Henry to pass through safely. A final whistle and the green NWR #3 came speeding on passed Gordon with the Wild Nor’wester. I collapsed upon my butt and gasped, sweat stinging my eyes. Josh did the same, patting me on the back.

“You all right?” he asked.

“I will be,” I said.

The conductor still held onto the entitled father and entitled mother, and they held onto their sniveling kid. While he was holding onto his elbow.

“Wesley,” I said, looking up at the conductor. “Escort those three to the brake coach and keep an eye on them. The first station we’re stopping at, I want them off the train and in the station master’s office.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “This way, please.”

“I should have your job!” the entitled father called.

“Get the first aid kit, and wipe the little porker’s booboo,” I said. I slowly rose to my shaking feet. “I should leave y’all right here! Have you hoof it to the next station. Maybe if I’m lucky, y’all be arrested by our security guards for trespassin’ on railroad property!”

“Leave them here,” said Gordon. “Especially for that sodding ‘scrapped’ remark!”

I really didn’t give two shits about Gordon’s language here.

So many of Gordon’s brothers had been scrapped thanks to the modernization of the British Railways. So, of course he would take that insult quite personally.

“You hear that?” I continued. “Gordon wants to leave you stranded. And I’m inclined to agree with him. But I’m not petty like y’all are.” I turned to him. “No. Follow the rules, Gordon. As much as we hate it. Turn them into the station master and they’ll be banned from riding any of our coaches again.”

“I suppose that shall suffice,” he said. It didn’t sit happy with him, though. And it was understandable why he said that. Gordon’s jaw was still tensed, set tightly. I reached up and patted him on the running board and he seemed to unwind just a slight, his frame coming to a rest.

“Wankers,” he at last said to relieve any emotional steam still pinned up inside. “The lot of them. Completely gobsmacked those types exist.”

“Yeah,” I said with a huff.

“You two finished taking the piss, or are we getting this bloody train a-moving?” Josh asked.

Gordon and I laughed. That finally got the last kink in our collective spines untied. I took a deep breath and rounded Gordon, only to climb in on the driver’s side. We waited for Wesley to come back. He no doubt already ordered the other crewmen to keep an eye on our entitled guests. He maybe a pushover to us, but not to the passengers. Especially the unruly ones. He took out his pocket watch, glanced at it, and then dropped it back into his pocket. He pulled out a radio, calling for the signal to switch the points. The passengers were already on board.

A few of Gordon’s valves began to move just slightly. The cock valves in his cylinders opened up with a hiss. I pinched the brake lever and pushed it forward and Gordon clenched his friction brakes to compensate. Then, the conductor whistled and signaled for the all clear. Gordon steamed forwards slowly, relaxing the brakes. As he pulled up, Wesley took hold of the railing and climbed into the cab.

Gordon sounded his low whistle twice and he was off.

And if y’all are wondering about what happens to the points after the train passes them. It is weight sensitive, and there’s a mechanism that puts the points back once the train clears it. The conductor normally will see if the point had reset by the signal’s position. And it did. Only the lever got stuck, not the mechanism itself.

By the time the train pulled into the station, there were security guards waiting to escort the entitled family to the station master’s office for a stern talking to. On the other platform was Henry with the Express, waiting to load his passengers. I suppose he noticed the security guards escorting the still bickering entitled family, because he spoke up.

“Gordon, what the bloody hell happened?”

“You almost had another wreck, Henry,” Gordon replied. “No thanks to that family of pigs over there.”

“Eh? What were they doing?”

“Messing with the points.”

“So that’s what my driver was acting all frantic about,” he said. “I thought the man was having a heart attack.”

“Nope, you nearly had a wreck like the one back in...what was it…‘36?”

“Was ‘35, actually.”

“Ah, that’s right,” Gordon said. “1935. Bloody snowstorm.”

“I should know, I was out in it, unfortunately. Then the Thin Clergyman decided to put my rebuild at 1951. Don’t know why he’d did that. That was getting close to the year Beeching was proposing his modernization plan.”

“Dreadful man.”

Gordon never liked Richard Beeching. With good reason.

A whistle from the platform sounded and Henry got his signal to move on.

“See you back at the sheds, Gordon!” he said with a whistle, pulling out from the station.

I came walking out onto the platform, stopping right beside Gordon’s smoke box.

“I think I’m gonna go home, prop my feet up, get out a tub of chocolate ice cream and watch a stupid chick flick tonight,” then I turned to him. “Wanna join me?”

“Well, you did leave that tub of ice cream in the freezer back at the sheds,” he said. “What stupid chick flick do you want to watch?”

“How about Sex in the City?”

“Oh, that’s a ripe cabbage, isn’t it?” Gordon asked. “Brilliant. We can both yell at the movie.”

“Hey, Josh, wanna join us?”

“Nah,” he said through the window. “Dinner night. Brian’s cooking.”

“Have fun with that,” I said. “Hey, you make sure you share some leftovers. You know how much I love Brian’s cooking.”

“And how much I love smelling it,” said Gordon. “I swear, if it kills me, I’ll figure out how to eat, someday.”

“I promise, Gordon,” began Josh. “I’m sure he’ll have some leftover wasted vegetable oil. We’ll put it in the strainer and give it to you.”

“Good enough.”

Well, we all returned to our posts and continued the excursion.

Movie night was fun too.

The next day, we were back on Express duty. Sir Topham Hatt came to tell us that family was banned from any excursions and any service on the railway. Like I said, regulated to riding the bus for now on. They were also severely fined. Like severely, made to do some community service as well.

Funny note on that family, apparently, it wasn’t the first time that hog brat messed with the switches. We stopped for a connection with the Skarloey Railway. And in came Sir Handel with his passengers. Word got around quick about the family. And Handel knew all about it.

“They pulled that stunt with us here on the narrow gauge,” said Sir Handel. “The fat twat of a boy started messing with the points. Rheneas saw what was happening, screeched to a halt as best as he could...and derailed. No one was hurt, thank heavens.”

“Why the bloody hell was that family allowed to ride my excursion train, then?” Gordon asked. “If that boy pulled the same stunt as before? And caused a wreck.”

I was out standing on the walkway between the narrow gauge track and the standard one, looking dumbfounded by what Sir Handel had said.

“The little piggy bolted away when he heard his mum calling him,” said Richard, Handel’s driver.

“Aye, greasy bugger, that one,” said Handel. “Before the security could catch up, I suppose he must’ve gotten on your train, Gordon.”

“What the actual fuck,” I said, shaking my head.

“But the security cameras caught him in the act,” said Richard. “I suppose after the second stint he caused, that was enough to ban the whole family. He was also causing some mischief with the Smallies too. Was trying to tip over poor Mike, calling him a toy. Mum encouraged it too, saying ‘he’s only playing’.”

“Bloody strong, if he could attempt to tip over Mike,” said Handel. “Smallies may be small, but they are heavy.”

“Each of them weigh as much as a car,” I said.

“He could tip over your Mustang if given a chance,” said Gordon.

“Like I’d let him have it!”

Gordon chuckled.

“The Small Controller kicked the mother and her brat out,” said Handel. “Filed a report on it. Then, they came here. And started more trouble.”

“And then they came onto my train,” said Gordon. “Lovely, isn’t it? We have a connection with the Arlesdale Railway. Should let the Small Controller know we got the brat and his parents banned from all of the railway.”

“I’d say for that boy, he’s…” began Handel. “How do you American’s say it, Dana? He rides the short bus, seems like?”

“That’s what we say, Sir Handel,” I nodded in agreement. “And his parents probably spoiled him rotten because of it.”

I took a glance back and noticed all the passengers were finally filing on board. Turning around, I slowly trotted back toward Gordon’s cab.

“Thanks for the info!” I waved, hopping back in. “We’ll let Mr. Duncan know we had a visit from the Terror Piglet.”

Both Sir Handel and Gordon broke out into a chuckle at the name I gave the kid.

Sad fact of some parents with children that have developmental problems. Sometimes, they just spoil them, let them do whatever they want. Don’t bother to correct their behavior. And this case was one of those. I suppose my name for the kid seemed mean. I should blame the parents more than the child for bringing him up like that. But considering the havoc he raised, putting people and engines in danger, damaging railway property, little regard to what he was doing, and his parents encouraging the behavior, to relieve my stress, the “Terror Piglet” seemed to stick. Judge me for my own behavior, but the kid nor his parents get no leeway with me. I didn’t exactly have a perfect childhood either, but I did learn enough about real life not to act like a “twat” as they say over here.

Along the way, we managed to find that wretched family. There they were, standing at a bus stop in the heat, sweating like the hogs they were. The entitled brat looked up and started to bolt for the fence, ready to lunge himself over. Which would be trespassing again.

I called out: “Hippity, hoppity! Stay off railway property!”

Gordon gave two short, very short, very poignant whistles as he blew on by them. Being around Gordon for so long, I began to learn what certain whistles meant depending on how the engine sounded them.

Gordon basically flipped that family the bird in the only way an engine could.

Considering what that kid nearly made Henry do yesterday, and the horror that entailed, I didn’t correct him on it. I only smiled.

And now, my mind turned to more important thoughts.

Like Brian’s leftovers in the cooler.

#r/entitledparents #Gordon #gordon the big engine #Henry #henry the green engine #Sir Handel #Island of Sodor #parody #silly fan fic #fanfiction #Thomas and Friends

64 notes · View notes