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isfjmel-phleg · 2 years

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The Secret Garden musical - no, not that one

Of interest to @marysfoxmask.

Before the 1991 Secret Garden musical, a different version (with book by Alfred Shaughnessy, music by Sharon Burgett, lyrics by Sharon Burgett, Susan Beckwith-Smith, and Diana Matterson) was produced in the UK in 1983. It doesn’t seem to have gone far, but there was a studio recording done in 1986. If you’re looking for this recording, you’re going to want the cassette version for completeness. The CD and the LP both cut several songs (but not the same songs for each). Several of the songs are available on YouTube, mostly Martha’s solos and duets. I’ll link these in the synopsis below.

It’s a pretty traditional musical in its format. The tone is much lighter than the 1991 musical’s. Judging from the synopsis, the plot is mostly fairly close-ish to the book’s, with a few notable changes. Including:

Mrs. Medlock and Dr. Craven are the villains (and maybe romantically involved?) and aspire to owning the manor.

Martha may or may not be in on the secret of the garden from the start?

Colin’s belief in his poor health is due to the doctor’s influence alone.

Shortly after Mary and Colin meet, she and Dickon try to take him outdoors but are caught by Mrs. Medlock and Dr. Craven, who then separate the children and lock Mary in her room.

The tantrum seems to be a reaction against not being allowed to see Mary?

Martha, not her mother, is the one to write to Mr. Craven (while the children are still separated). She also lets Mary out of her room so the children can sneak out to the garden.

Ben’s catching the children in the garden does not lead to Colin’s standing in indignation. He stands later “with enormous effort.” Martha arrives shortly afterward to let the children know Mr. Craven is on his way home, but she is interrupted by his arrival. Colin then walks for the first time to his father.

These are all changes that tend to show up in one form or another in various adaptations--not terribly surprising. Martha’s expanded role is likely due to the need for an adult performer to carry the musical (as the 1991 musical gives a lot of attention to Archibald and Lily). And the villain upgrade provides a concrete antagonist (which the book doesn’t really have--or need), although it’s not executed especially well. Judging from the songs, Mrs. Medlock and Dr. Craven are given cartoonishly evil characterization (”How We Love Children” is painful) that doesn’t seem to fit with the rest of the production, and their subplot doesn’t really seem to go anywhere by the end.

A chorus of the Misselthwaite staff have a few songs, mostly as exposition or commentary. It’s a serviceable device, if not overly creative. “The Likes of You and Me” could easily have been cut; it’s a lengthy rant on How Rich People Are Weird that doesn’t really move plot or characterization forward.

The songs overall are better than the 1987 musical’s (which are pretty bad). Sometimes they’re a little too on-the-nose, and they lack the beauty and memorability of the 1991 musical’s soundtrack. But most of them are rather pleasant. I can’t properly evaluate the music from a musician’s perspective, but I really like the children’s songs in particular. Mary has a couple of duets with Martha that deal respectively with her homesickness and the effects of her mother’s emotional neglect. Dickon is actually played by a child, not a teenager or young adult, and he gets a bouncy “I Am” Song that sums him up perfectly. Colin gets an “I Am” Song, an “I Want” Song, and an “I Am Becoming” Song, which is impressive compared to how sidelined he is in the 1991 musical (in which his only solo is really just another song about his father). All three of them get the chance to speak for themselves and seem reasonably in character.

While the 1991 musical still is the best in terms of creativity and quality (as much as I take issue with its interpretation of the story), this production has its good points. Probably none of the songs will be living in my head rent-free, but it’s definitely an album I’ll be revisiting occasionally.

The cast list, synopsis with links to the few available songs, and the lyrics are below (and very lengthy!) if you’re curious. I had to transcribe the lyrics from the recordings; for some of these, I had a hard time deciphering the words, no matter how often I relistened. My apologies for these gaps (which are noted with question marks) and for any misheard lyrics.

Cast

Martha Sowerby: Barbara Cook

Archie Craven: John Cullum

Ben Weatherstaff: George Rose

Dr. Craven: Max Showalter

Mrs. Medlock: Judy Kaye

Mary Lennox: Victoria Coote

Dickon Sowerby: Paul Glen

Colin Craven: Daniel Waller

Synopsis

England 1911. Mary Lennox, whose parents have both died of cholera in India, is returning to live with her widowed uncle, Archie Craven, at Misselthwaite Manor on the edge of the Yorkshire moors. Mr. Craven has sent his housekeeper, Mrs. Medlock, to fetch Mary from London, and the servants eagerly await her arrival. (ANY MINUTE NOW). Their hopes of having the gloom of Misselthwaite dispersed by a young child are quickly dashed when they meet the spoiled, imperious, and thoroughly unattractive little girl who arrives. Martha, the housemaid, refuses to do Mary’s bidding, and a battle of wits ensues between the two. (I WILL DO NOTHING).

Left to herself, Mary roams the gardens and encounters a cantankerous old gardener, Ben Weatherstaff, who advises her to change her ways or she will become as friendless as he. (JUST LIKE ME). Rejected, homesick, and thoroughly miserable, Mary dreams of returning to India. Martha sympathizes with her and they become friends. (WINGS). Martha reveals the details of the Manor’s secret garden: ten years earlier, Mr. Craven’s wife had died in a tragic accident in her favorite walled garden. Wild with grief, Archie locked the garden door and forbade anyone to enter the garden again. Nobody ever knew what became of the key; even the door seems to have vanished.

This, of course, piques Mary’s curiosity and every day is spent exploring the many walled gardens. One afternoon, she comes upon a boy of her own age with a lamb in his arms and an old collie at his heels. He charms Mary by producing a squirrel from his pocket and introduces himself as Martha’s younger brother. (DICKON IS MY NAME).

Sometimes, at night, Mary hears mysterious crying coming from a part of the house Mrs. Medlock has forbidden her to enter. When she finally meets her uncle and asks about the crying, she is curtly rebuffed. Mary has unwittingly touched on a subject far too painful for him to discuss. (SOMEWHERE IN THE PAST). Meanwhile, Mrs. Medlock and Dr. Craven (Archie’s cousin) discuss their ambitious plans to inherit Misselthwaite Manor. In the background, the servants reflect on their own view of life at the Manor. (WISHFUL THINKING).

At bedtime one evening, Mary asks Martha about her family and especially about her mother. Martha replies in a lullaby that evokes Mary’s memory of her own mother. (MY MOTHER).

One day, with the help of Ben’s only friend, a small, industrious robin, Mary discovers an old, rusty key and, miraculously, an ivy-covered door. The key fits—Mary has found the secret garden! Once inside, she sees a mass of tangled growth and a profusion of untended roses. Mary vows to make this place come alive again, and asks Dickon to help her. Martha encourages the children in their project. (BEFORE YOU KNOW, IT’S SUMMER). Archie Craven, embarking on one of his frequent trips abroad, notices a change in Mary’s behavior and questions the girl, but Mary carefully evades the real reason for her happiness. (I’VE GOT A SECRET).

Late one evening, Mary resolves to follow the sound of the mysterious crying and bravely sets off down a long passage. In a dark and ornate room, she discovers a small boy lying in an enormous bed. He is as surprised to see her as she is to find another child in the house. The boy is Archie Craven’s son, Colin—confined to his bed by Dr. Craven and convinced by him that he will never walk or live to grow up. (NO ONE NEEDS ME). Mary gains Colin’s undivided attention when she reveals her secret. (A SECRET PLACE). Although Martha is terrified that Mrs. Medlock will learn of this new friendship, she is pleased that the two lonely children have found one another and feels that Mary is the tonic that Colin needs. (SOMETHING SPECIAL).

Mary and Dickon conspire to carry Colin out of the house to show him the secret garden. Just as they reach the front door, they are caught by a furious Mrs. Medlock and Dr. Craven. Dickon is abruptly banished from the house, Colin whisked back to bed, and Mary locked in her room as the first act ends.

Gathered in the great hall, the servants wonder at the severity of punishment imposed upon the children. They conclude that, at times, the upper classes behave in strange and peculiar ways. (THE LIKES OF YOU AND ME). Mrs. Medlock, determined that no meddling ten-year-old will disrupt the highly disciplined routine at Misselthwaite, reveals a long concealed resentment for the responsibilities she has had to assume. (TRADITIONS).

Colin desperately wants to see Mary again. He feels she is his only salvation. (I DON’T WANT TO BE AN ANGEL). Martha, accused by Mary of being Mrs. Medlock’s accomplice, denies the charge and promises to help Mary. (ONE PATCH OF BLUE). Meanwhile, Colin produces a grand and classic tantrum causing an exasperated Mrs. Medlock and Dr. Craven to exclaim—(HOW WE LOVE CHILDREN)!

Martha, as good as her word, writes to Archie, begging him to come home. Her letter arrives as he sits on the terrace of his hotel in Italy listening to the orchestra. (MY FAVORITE SONG). Realizing at last that his only true chance of happiness is at home with his son, Archie resolves to return to England at once (WINGS—reprise).

Martha, against Mrs. Medlock’s strictest orders, leaves the door to Mary’s bedroom unlocked. Mary and Dickon manage to sneak Colin out of the house and into the secret garden. Once there, they all feel the magic in the garden and Dickon explains how he can make the magic work for them. (WEAVE A SPELL). Ben Weatherstaff appears over the wall and, not recognizing Colin, orders the children out of the garden. Colin makes himself known and, in turn, orders Ben to come in and help them. Ben, listening to their plans to make the garden grow again and to help Colin learn to walk, heartily agrees to support them. (YOUR BEST FOOT).

Each day, Martha allows the children to slip secretly out of the house to work in the garden. In time, Colin’s legs strengthen until one day, with enormous effort, he pulls himself to his feet. Suddenly, he realizes that he is not going to die. (I SHALL LIVE FOREVER). At that moment, Martha appears to tell them of Mr. Craven’s return. Before she can say anything, a mystified Archie enters the garden. He stands speechless—the garden has come to life. It blooms. Supported by his two friends, Colin takes his first faltering steps toward his father and falls into his arms. Martha, as overwhelmed as the others, realizes that love is the key that has unlocked this garden, and that only the children instinctively knew that. (THE SECRET GARDEN). She runs to spread the news and soon the garden is filled with servants and family, all celebrating the happiness that has returned, once again to The Secret Garden. (THE FINALE).

ANY MINUTE NOW

Ensemble

The carriage will be coming

Any minute now!

Is everybody ready?

Any minute now!

We’ve made this dreary house

A brighter house today.

It’s such a gloomy house

For any child to stay.

I’ve clipped the hedges

Neatly in a row.

And I’ve pruned the roses

So the blooms will grow.

And we have mowed and hoed

The whole day long for someone whom we know is

Coming any, coming any, coming any, coming any

Any minute now.

We’ve polished the mahogany, rubbed up the oak,

And we’ve scrubbed each stone on the floor.

With one hundred rooms who’s to say if we’re done.

And besides, in one minute more,

There’s a little girl coming.

A little girl’s coming,

A hothouse Indian plant

In a damp English winter in Yorkshire.

She’ll wish she were elsewhere

Until spring pushes through.

When the moor is in bloom

And the world is a room

Full of blue skies and butterflies,

If she’ll close her eyes

She’ll see it too,

She’ll see it too.

We’ve brushed away the cobwebs

And chased away the gloom.

Let’s hope our girl is given

A cheerful little room.

She’s going to need someone

To hug her when she’s sad,

Someone who’ll be her mum

And spank her when she’s bad, bad, bad!

See the carriage coming (See it coming now)!

She’ll be here at last (She’ll be here at last)

To brighten up our future

And sweep away the past.

And after all these years,

Imagine hearing laughter once again.

She’s going to need a family,

Going to need a family.

Any minute

The carriage will be coming, coming, coming, coming, coming, coming,

Any minute now!

I WILL DO NOTHING

Martha

Get quickly out of bed and let me look at thee.

From here you look a skinny little mite to me.

I’ve had about as much as I can take from thee.

And do not think I wouldn’t take me hand to thee!

Mary

Just bring my clothes, I wish to dress.

And don’t you think it’s time you learn to chatter less?

For I will do nothing, most definitely nothing.

I’m brilliant at nothing and sadly feel nothing for you.

Martha

So you will do nothing, most definitely nothing.

There’s certainly, definitely something the matter with you.

Now you listen to me, young lady,

I tell you here right now you’re going to find somehow,

There’s lots of little things you’ll have to learn to do.

So let me make it clear that my position here

Is just to help and not to be a slave to you!

Mary

Who do you think you’re talking to?

Now get me dressed at once as you’re supposed to do.

For I will do nothing,

Martha

Most definitely nothing!

Mary

Most certainly something.

Martha

Most certainly nothing.

Mary

I always need someone and

Martha / Mary

Someone is definitely you.

Mary

Well, I know I really could, though

I don’t see why I should.

You’re just a servant, you must do as you are told.

Martha

I’d never do as I was told by any cheeky ten-year-old.

Why, I would rather scrub the tubs,

Rather scrub the tubs, rather scrub the tubs

Than give a hand to you.

Mary

This waist is much too tight, it’s underneath my chin.

What are these buttons for? My arm just won’t go in.

These stockings are too wide, my legs are much too thin.

Can’t you see the dreadful tangled mess I’m in?

Martha

You think that life’s a game to play.

It’s time you knew that two can play the same game too!

Your manners are chilling, I’d never be willing

To dress you or help you to button it, buckle it.

Snap it or tuck it or lace it or tie in a bow, so

I will do nothing.

Mary

And I can do nothing.

Martha

Decidedly nothing.

Mary

Incapably nothing.

Martha

Well, possibly nothing.

Mary

Well, practically nothing.

Martha

That’s something for nothing.

Martha / Mary

I will do nothing,

No nothing, no nothing,

No nothing, no nothing for you!

JUST LIKE ME

Mary (spoken)

I am Mary Lennox, and I live here now.

Ben (spoken)

I’ve heard tell of thee. They’re saying in servants’ hall that Mr. Craven’s ward be a plain, sour-faced little minx with a sharp tongue and a nasty temper.

Mary (spoken)

Is that what they say? How rude!

Ben (spoken)

‘Tis much the same as they say about me.

Ben (sung)

If you furrow your forehead and squint through your eyes

Until you’re not able to see,

If you pull on your nose, till it’s long as a hose,

Then the chances are quite good, the chances are you could,

The chances are you would look just like me.

Be as gruff as a badger, stubborn as a stoat,

Mean as a bear with a bee

If you keep to yourself, take no heed of none else

Then the chances are quite good, the chances are you could

The chances are you would be just like me.

If you learn how to speak with a smile on your cheek,

Be pleasant to people you see—

Laugh, really laugh, maybe once ev’ry day,

Then I’d say that you won’t be like me.

If I screamed like a banshee, screeched like an owl,

Howled like a cat up a tree,

If I snarled at the world with my lips tightly curled,

Then the chances are quite good, the chances are I could,

The chances are I would sound just like thee.

You are young, very young, why, you’re still just a girl.

You don’t know what living is for.

As for me I’m accustomed to life as it is—

The garden, a robin, no more.

You can take my advice, you can leave it alone,

You’ve a choice—a rare thing to see.

Your skies can be gray, or blue every day,

Your life should be all it can be

I’m a man on me own and I live all alone.

It’s the road that I’ve chosen for me.

If you don’t change your ways, for the rest of your days,

The chances are quite good, the chances are you could,

The chances are you could,

The chances are you will be—just like—me!

WINGS

Mary

If only I had wings,

Magic wings to glide the moonbeams,

I’d fly home,

Home again.

On wings, magic wings to ride the rainbows,

I’d fly home

Home again.

Night after night I’ve been dreaming dreams,

Lovely dreams of those sunny days

I left behind,

On my wings, magic wings, gliding moonbeams,

I’ll fly home

On my own magic wings.

Martha

It’s easy to fly,

Just call on an old magic spell.

Believing is how you can

Tell when you’re in it,

It just takes a minute.

Martha / Mary

On wings, / Magic wings!

Gliding moonbeams, / I’ll be

Flying home, home again. / Flying home, I’ll be flying home again.

On wings, / Magic wings,

Riding rainbows, / On wings,

Flying home, flying home, home again.

Mary

Night after night I’ve been dreaming dreams,

Lovely dreams of those sunny days

I left behind.

Martha / Mary

Magic wings, / On my wings, flying home,

Riding rainbows,

You’ll be home on your own / Home on my own

Magic wings.

DICKON IS MY NAME

Dickon (spoken)

I know thee! Tha’rt Miss Mary.

Mary (spoken)

And you're Dickon. You talk to the animals and birds, don’t you? Martha says you understand everything they say.

Dickon (spoken)

I think they do, and they think I do.

Dickon (sung)

I can make a hedgehog whistle,

Anything you ask.

I can pick a prickly thistle,

That’s an easy task.

The blackbird on the rainbow,

The robin on the wing

Call me Dickon,

Know I’m Dickon,

Call me Dickon—Dickon is my name.

I can hear the foxes running

Far across the moor.

I can see a spider spinning

Through his tiny door.

Ask me how the wild goose

Knows it’s time to go,

‘Cause I’ve lived each day the same,

With the creatures who know

Dickon is my…

Name me a river,

Find me a forest,

Find me a field I don’t know,

Show me the heather when

Morning first sees it.

I’ll say I got there

Before it warmed it.

I can show you paths to follow, run and laugh like me.

See that clever little swallow, he learned to fly like me.

You can fly tomorrow, you will walk today.

Follow Dickon,

Walk with Dickon,

Fly with Dickon,

I will show the way!

SOMEWHERE IN THE PAST

Archie (spoken)

I trust your room is comfortable, Mary.

Mary (spoken)

Yes, but Mrs. Medlock says I mustn’t wander about the house. I have to stay in my own room or play in the gardens. What’s in this house I’m not supposed to see? Who is it I hear crying?

Archie (spoken)

Stop it, child! Stop asking questions. Go back to your room. Leave me!

Archie (sung)

Somewhere in the past

Every day was new.

Morning air was sweeter then,

Skies a brighter blue.

I remember smiles,

Laughing eyes of blue,

Someone’s hand enclosed in mine,

Precious time spent with someone

Who could change a stormy day from dark

To shining gray.

And silver rain became the softest kiss—

How I miss

Someone in my arms,

Someone’s gentle touch.

I could never love as much,

Care as much, live again

For someone new,

When somewhere in the past

There was you…

Who could change a stormy day from dark to shining gray.

And silver rain became the softest kiss—

How I miss

Someone in my arms,

Someone’s gentle touch.

I will never love as much,

Care as much, live again

For someone new,

When somewhere in the past

There was you.

WISHFUL THINKING

Mrs. Medlock

You with your bedside manner

And I in my usual competent, tolerant way—

Who would ever say

Our intentions, though curious,

Were meant to be spurious

And just slightly injurious.

Dr. Craven

Quite right, you could say, in a manner of speaking,

There’s something afoot in this house,

Which might slightly imply, in a manner of speaking,

The cat’s just been put with the mouse!

Mrs. Medlock

So little time, so much to do,

Is it a crime, wishful thinking, with you?

Dr. Craven

The crystal chandeliers, decanters, crested plates, my dear.

Mrs. Medlock

The walnut secretaire, those Georgian chairs, a beauvais tapis too.

Dr. Craven

A cellar stacked with racks of vintage port, some claret rouge.

Mrs. Medlock

And cupboards brimming full with linens, lace and damask tablecloths—

Dr. Craven

The silver monogrammed and hallmarked, sixteen—

Mrs. Medlock

Queen Anne—

Dr. Craven

—Ninety-two!

Mrs. Medlock

So little time!

Dr. Craven

So much to do!

Mrs. Medlock / Dr. Craven

Is it a crime, wishful thinking with you?

Men

Too many rooms for just one man to use,

Too many buckets of coal.

Women

Too many cobwebs they’d never excuse.

Ensemble

Better watch it when Medlock patrols!

So little time,

So much to do.

Is it a crime to miss a corner or two?

The grand piano in the drawing room has eighty-eight.

The fifty fire-tongs and fire-dogs have fifty matching grates!

Men

The sixty up and sixty down here in the staircase hall

Women

Are dusted daily till you don’t see any dust at all.

Ensemble

The windows, tables, chairs, the servants’ stairs,

The floor, the boots, the shoes in corners lurk—

Still left to do!

Is it a crime if we miss just a few?

Mrs. Medlock

Mistress of Misselthwaite I’m soon to be.

Dr. Craven

Master of all I survey.

Mrs. Medlock

Languishing late when I’m served morning tea.

Dr. Craven

Well, you’d better get going, you know what we’re going to do.

Mrs. Medlock / Dr. Craven

Is it a crime, wishful thinking

With you?

MY MOTHER

Martha

Mother is kind, Mother is gay.

Mother is love in a comforting way.

When day is done, she tells us good night

And always comes in to tuck us in tight.

She always comes in to tuck us in tight.

Mary

My mother was beautiful, happy, and gay.

She glided through life in a magical way.

She laughed, and her eyes shone ever so bright,

But she never came in to kiss me good night.

Her dresses were floating and all made of lace.

Her friends all adored her and longed for her grace.

She’d pick up their babies and sing of their charm,

But she never held me in her lovely arms,

She never held me in her lovely arms.

No, no, she never loved me.

I’m lonely and fretful and she couldn’t see

I’d locked up my heart and buried the key.

No, no, she never loved me.

Martha / Mary

Mother is kind, Mother is gay, / My mother was beautiful, happy, and gay,

Mother is love in a comforting way. / She glided through life in a magical way.

When day is done, she tells us good night / She laughed, and her eyes shone ever so bright,

And always comes in to tuck us in tight, / But she never came in to kiss me good night,

She always comes in to tuck us in tight. / No, she never came in to kiss me good night.

Mary

She never came in to kiss me good night.

BEFORE YOU KNOW IT’S SUMMER

Martha

The evening wind is bold,

The morning dark and gray.

The air is bitter cold,

The sun just hides away.

And while a dreary world is sleeping

Through the winter time,

The clock ticks on,

It won’t be long.

There will be a sky

Blue as blue again,

Silver morning dew again.

It sparkles and glistens,

Listen and you’ll hear

The birds are humming round.

Bees are buzzing round.

Touch a yellow butterfly

As it flutters by.

Watch a baby bird try.

There will be a day

Clear and bright again,

When clouds are pillow-white again.

Dandelions fly,

Catch a falling star,

Ride the rainbow far as you can see,

Before you know it’s summer

And all that summer will be.

[repeat stanza]

I’VE GOT A SECRET

Archie

You see, this little girl who’s come to stay,

She rushes in with so many things to say,

As if her day were full of those magical promises

Someone once promised for me.

And now in this pair of eyes there’s no disguise,

Could she, I wonder, she need me?

Mary

I’ve got a secret, a secret, a secret,

Deep as a well!

I’ve got a secret, a secret, a secret,

I’ll never tell!

Did you know the stars keep the sunlight,

The sunlight, right next to their bed?

Each morning a star packs his knapsack

With sunlight and travels all day

Till he finds a place to stay,

Opens his knapsack, and takes out the light,

In case he should wake in the night and be scared.

A star keeps the sunlight next to his bed.

[repeat “I’ve got a secret” refrain]

Archie

Suddenly this little girl seems to pull all the strings of my heart.

Suddenly all I can see is a face that reminds me of roses…

Martha

Oh, what has our Dickon been telling thee, lass?

Archie

In summer…

Mrs. Medlock

Always filling thy head full of whimsy and such.

Archie

Lilacs…

Mary

Most wonderful things, do you think she suspects?

Archie

In spring.

Mary

Who else can I ask? Who’d be knowing so much?

Did you know the sky wears a tailor-made coat

When it’s rainy and gray?

Just any old coat wouldn’t fit

If it’s bitter and windy all day.

So Sky buys an extra large blanket of cloud for his tailor to sew,

And that’s how I know Sky is cozy and dry,

Wrapped in the best coat money can buy.

[repeat refrain]

NO ONE NEEDS ME / A SECRET PLACE

Colin (spoken)

Are you a ghost?

Mary (spoken)

No, I’m Mary.

Colin (spoken)

Nobody said there was a girl here. Are you real?

Mary (spoken)

I think so. I heard you crying.

Colin (spoken)

Sometimes I have bad dreams. Nobody comes.

Colin (sung)

No one needs me.

I stay forgotten in this lonely room.

I’ve never learned to walk.

There’s no one I can talk to.

They give me boring books and horrid looks

And leave me to sulk.

No one needs me.

I sit for hours here with nothing to do,

And even though I have all that I need,

No one, no one needs me.

Mary (spoken)

Colin, I’ve got a secret!

Colin (spoken)

Tell me! You must tell me.

Mary (spoken)

I found a hidden garden! It’s somewhere we could go to get away.

Colin (spoken)

But how could I get there? I can’t walk.

Mary (spoken)

Don’t worry. I’ll find someone to help us.

Mary (sung)

There’s a special place I know,

Hidden just behind a garden wall.

A garden with a faded face,

Like heather on a winter morn,

And there’s a secret smile

In every vine around the door.

A place where we can hide

From all those people who we don’t want to see,

Where we can be all alone,

It will be all our own.

We’ll make it bloom,

Make it grow,

Make it somewhere special

To go.

Colin

A place where we can hide,

Mary

A place where we can hide

Colin

From all those people who we don’t want to see,

Both

Where we can be all alone,

It will be all our own.

Colin

We’ll make it bloom,

Mary

Make it grow,

Both

Make it somewhere special

To go,

Make it somewhere special

To go.

SOMETHING SPECIAL

Martha

When you hear a robin sing,

Something special happens when a robin sings.

And when you see lilacs bloom in spring,

All the world’s been sleeping in its cozy bed,

Then something special happens to wake up its sleepy head.

And late at night when you’re alone,

Something special happens so you’re not alone.

Just close your eyes, your heart knows what to say:

Now I lay me down to sleep and thank thee for this day.

And one thing’s certain,

Very certain,

Something special happens that way,

[repeat stanza]

THE LIKES OF YOU AND ME

Ensemble

It’s very clear the folks upstairs are not like you and me.

They often dine when it’s half past nine

In a drafty old room in the gloomiest company.

They take their tea from a dainty cup.

It’s so small there’s naught to sup.

Not a mug like you and me.

They’ve a haughty look and a snooty glance,

And they never stand up for a lively dance

With the likes of you and me.

And the way they talk sounds more like a squawk

Or a squeal or a quack, it’s an act, never rot [?].

No, they’re not like you and me.

They wear fine silk stockings,

Flimsy shocking things all laced up tight.

You should see their petticoats, frock coats, and overcoats,

Hunting caps with chin straps (chin straps),

Shooting sticks and top hats (top hats),

Lace caps and nightcaps (nightcaps).

They don’t half look, don’t half look a fright.

They wear braces and brooches and capes for their coaches,

And sometimes their bloomers come down to their knees.

They wear powder and patches,

And wigs in their thatches are growing in stature.

They’re not like you and me.

They go hunting on white horses and their backs they crack in courses

That would certainly diminish, truly be the finish

Of the likes of you and you and me.

Up they get again and [?] some friends with [???],

Like to ride like they were mad, like they really must be mad.

Oh, they’re not like you, not like you and me.

Now if you’re a country gent or an educated man,

Remember you’re a member of a most exclusive clan.

You’re called Algernon or Dickie,

Not Harry, Joe, or Sam.

And you ride in fancy carriages (clip clop),

You ride in fancy carriages (clip clop),

You ride in fancy carriages,

But never in a tram.

Ben

I’ll make you a wager, I’ll bet you a pound

That the master’d rather dine with his favorite hound

Than drink with the lads some good thick ale

And hop it to the tune of a tailor’s tale.

Ensemble

He sends his sons to boarding schools.

To boarding schools—they must be fools.

Why can’t they learn with the chalk and rule

Like the likes of you and me?

There’s one safe place a chap can go

When a tip with the whip has laid him low.

He can go to his club, which is sacred ground.

It’s just like a prison the wrong way round.

It takes years to get into the wretched place,

And you’re out in a flash if you can’t keep pace.

If Bertie ain’t your next best friend

And lacks your guns, you won’t stay in.

And that’s no fun for gents whose pence are as foolish as their pounds.

Oh, they’re not like you, no, they’re not like you and me.

So if you want to be where the bond is free

And there’s nothing that’s wrong with the lass on your knee,

In our set is where you want to be (where you want to be)

With the likes of you and me.

TRADITIONS

Mrs. Medlock (spoken)

That boy is becoming more and more impossible! And as for Mary—

Dr. Craven (spoken)

You must be patient!

Mrs. Medlock (spoken)

Oh!

Dr. Craven (spoken)

Remember, one day things will be different.

Mrs. Medlock (spoken)

It’s easy for you to say that, but it’s always me that is left to deal with his problems.

Mrs. Medlock (sung)

One hundred years, one hundred ways

To serve the traditions we know.

And I’m tired of

“Bring me the papers! Ring for the footman!

Send for my carriage, I’m leaving for Paris

And catching the boat train—you’ll see me perhaps in a month,

Maybe two.”

And I’ve never seen Paris.

Will I ever see Paris?

Does it sparkle like a diamond?

Does it glisten, does it shine?

Do the rubies grow like roses?

Do the rivers flow with wine?

And I’d like to see Paris,

I’d like it just fine.

I’ll have rubies big as roses,

Drink from rivers filled

With one thousand years of tradition

And a thousand and one ways to live.

I’ll ring for the footman, send for the papers,

Order my carriage whenI’m going to Paris,

And catching the boat train.

I’ll leave in a month.

Maybe two, maybe not.

If traditions don’t change in these one hundred rooms

For the next hundred years,

Then I’ll be leaving

Soon!

I DON’T WANT TO BE AN ANGEL

Colin

Please, God, make me better.

Please, God, hear my prayer.

Are you really listening?

Are you really there?

I don’t want to be an angel.

I don’t want to wear a crown.

If you put me up on a big white cloud,

I’m sure I’d tumble down.

I just want to see the garden,

I just want to climb the wall,

And I don’t want to be an angel,

I don’t want to fly at all.

Please, God, make me stronger.

Please, God, hear my prayer.

Are you really listening?

Are you really there?

I don’t want to wear a halo,

I don’t have curly hair,

And I don’t want to play a harp all day,

Not even if you’re there!

I just want to be like other boys.

Maybe you’ll show me the way.

And I don’t want to be an angel.

Please

Don’t take me away!

ONE PATCH OF BLUE

Mary (spoken)

I’ll never see the garden or Colin or Dickon ever again! I wish I’d never come to this horrid place. I wish I was dead!

Martha (spoken)

That’s nonsense, and you know it. In a couple days, it will probably all be forgotten.

Mary (spoken)

Mrs. Medlock never forgets anything.

Martha (spoken)

Come to the window, Mary. Can you see that bit of blue sky peeking through the clouds there? It’s big enough to make a sailor suit, and you know what that means.

Martha (sung)

With just one patch of blue,

Just one glimpse of sky,

And a star shining through,

You can wish your dreams come true.

One rainbow high

Will rise over you.

When the clouds roll by,

You can wish your dreams come true.

You must wait, you must wait,

While those thousands of raindrops keep falling.

They will soon stop,

And the last drop

Says get ready, get set to start wishing.

On that one patch of blue,

That one glimpse of sky,

And a star shining through,

Make a wish, and wish it true.

HOW WE LOVE CHILDREN

Mrs. Medlock (spoken)

It beats me why any woman has a child.

Dr. Craven (spoken)

There must be some compensations.

Mrs. Medlock (spoken)

Well, I certainly fail to see them. But let’s keep up the pretense.

Dr. Craven / Mrs. Medlock

Oh, how we love,

Really do love

Children one and all (one and all)!

It is such a surprise,

It brings tears to one’s eyes

That children don’t love us at all.

Dr. Craven

You truly are a marvel, Mrs. Medlock.

Mrs. Medlock

Thank you so much.

Dr. Craven

Having slaved your every finger to the bone.

Mrs. Medlock

Oh yes, I try to play my part,

And I can say with all my heart

You’d think I loved the little darlings

As my own.

And how I hate to tell them all at Christmas

That they may not eat the cake or sugar plum,

And when they ask for candy cane,

It gives them such a fearful pain.

I have to eat the sweet instead

And send them promptly off to bed

Without a crumb.

Well, I do love a sweetie now and then, don’t I?

Dr. Craven / Mrs. Medlock

Oh, how we love, really do love

Children, you and me!

Can’t you see

They’re like silver and gold,

Such a treasure to hold,

A pleasure to bounce on our knee.

Mrs. Medlock

You’re such a splendid doctor, Dr. Craven.

Dr. Craven

Thank you, ma’am.

Mrs. Medlock

Always caring for the ills of little ones.

Dr. Craven

When with measles they are cursed

Or even mumps, which are the worst,

I simply lock them in a room without the sun.

Mrs. Medlock

Is that so?

Dr. Craven

And when their whooping cough

Won’t stop its whooping

Mrs. Medlock

What do you do?

Dr. Craven

There’s a remedy I know

That knows no faults.

I’ve found that most of those disasters

Can be cured with mustard plasters,

But the kiddies do recoil

When I lace their castor oil

With epsom salts!

Mrs. Medlock

Oh, you devil, you!

Dr. Craven / Mrs. Medlock

Oh, how we love, really do love

Children everywhere!

Be they British or Boer

From Bangkok to Jahore

Mrs. Medlock

They’re delightful!

Dr. Craven

Marvelous!

Dr. Craven / Mrs. Medlock

Children, scheming children,

Who needs children?

We’ll dream of good riddance

To kids, dear.

I think, dear,

It’s clear that

You know what I mean.

Children, fiendish children,

Ruthless children.

The truth is, we don’t love those children.

The fat or the thin ones, the short or the tall!

We don’t love children

At all!

MY FAVORITE SONG / WINGS (REPRISE)

Archie (spoken)

Would you be kind enough to ask the orchestra to play those melodies again?

Man (spoken)

Any particular one, sir?

Archie (spoken)

No, no, no. Any of them will do.

Archie

If you play me my favorite song,

Play every note she sang for me,

I’ll only hear

A reverie play on.

If you play me my favorite waltz,

Play every step she danced with me.

I’ll only hear

A rhapsody play on.

Play me the mountains ringing,

Rivers singing, oceans roaring,

Fountains soaring, overflowing,

Filling my life with a symphony.

If you play me my favorite tune,

Play every note so sweet and clear,

I’ll only hear

A memory play on.

Play me the mountains ringing,

Rivers singing, oceans roaring,

Fountains soaring, overflowing,

Filling my life with a symphony.

If you play me my favorite tune,

Play every note so sweet and clear,

I’ll only hear

A memory play on.

Man (spoken)

There’s a letter for you, sir.

Archie (spoken)

“Dear Sir, please forgive me for writing you, sir…”

Martha (spoken)

“...but things are happening at Misselthwaite that you should know about. You must come home, sir, you must. Your respectful servant, Martha Sowerby.”

Archie (sung)

Night after night I’ve been dreaming dreams,

Lovely dreams of those happy days I left behind.

On my wings,

Magic wings,

Gliding moonbeams,

I’ll be home, home again.

On wings,

Riding rainbows,

I’ll be home

On my own magic wings.

WEAVE A SPELL

Dickon

Weave a spell, magic spell, turn and spin.

Weave a spell, you can tell when you’re in

A lovely, mystical, wonderful world where your wishes come true.

In my hand is a magic wand,

And if I wave it around

So the thing’s got your feet in a dance,

Feel your head in a trance,

Feel your hands running out.

Your fingers will tingle, slap tap,

And they’ll swing a full circle around.

Hold my hand, with your eyes, with your prayers [?],

Feel the magic begin.

Weave a spell, magic spell, turn and spin.

Weave a spell, you can tell when you’re in

A lovely magic land where your wishes all come true,

And I can always prove it to you.

[repeat last two stanzas]

YOUR BEST FOOT

Ben

When you’re lonely,

It’s likely you’re only

The one feeling sorry for you.

So put your left foot,

Then your best foot,

Forward in front of you.

So if it’s raining

There’s no need complaining.

The sensible thing to do

Is put your left foot,

Then your best foot,

Forward in front of you.

If what you’ve got is not a lot,

It’s what you do, not what you get

That makes you strong, and don’t forget

This world won’t turn for you!

So keep your chin up,

And even a grin up your sleeve

Will show them who’s who.

And one little left foot

Will lead to your next foot.

The rest is up to you.

If one little left foot

Will lead to the next foot,

Then that’s the best you can do.

Mary / Dickon

If what you’ve got is not a lot,

Ben

It’s what you do, not what you get

That makes you strong, but don’t forget

This world won’t stop for you!

All

Keep your chin up

And even a grin up your sleeve

Will show them who’s who.

Ben

And one little left foot

Mary / Dickon

Will lead to the next foot.

All

The rest is up to you.

Ben

With one little left foot,

Mary / Dickon

You’ll be on the next foot.

All

And that’s the best you can do.

I SHALL LIVE FOREVER

Colin

I shall live forever,

And I’ll grow tall and well.

Races I’ll be winning,

Like a top I will be spinning,

I’ll do almost anything.

The stories they will tell!

First I’ll fell a tree,

Then I’ll build a little fire.

I’ll catch a fish and cook it,

They will never know

The one who hooked it.

I’ll climb the highest trees

And swim the seven seas

And never ever tire.

I shall walk the heather

With Dickon by my side.

And when my father sees me once again,

His smile will be,

His smile will be

A father’s smile of pride.

THE SECRET GARDEN (RIGHT BEFORE OUR EYES)

Martha (spoken)

One of the strange things about living in this world is that now and then we are quite sure we shall live forever and ever. We know it sometimes at dawn, watching the unchanging majesty of the sun rising. Or alone in a wood at sunset when the deep gold stillness seems to be saying something we can’t quite hear. And sometimes the immense quiet of the dark blue at night with millions of stars waiting makes us sure, and sometimes a look in someone’s eyes.

Martha (sung)

There lies a magic place

Where marigolds embrace,

And morning songbirds soar.

A garden of surprise

Right before our eyes

That grownups just ignore.

We wander through a maze,

Regretting yesterdays,

And miss the glowing rose,

When from the very start

The childish heart can tell you

How the flower grows.

Each bright and magic morn

A miracle is born,

And love appears to warm the skies.

It’s love that has found us,

It’s magic astounds us,

Right here before our eyes.

[repeat stanza]

THE FINALE

Archie (spoken)

Well, Weatherstaff, what do you make of this then? Haven’t I a fine son?

Ben (spoken)

That you have, sir. But you’ve a lot to thank Miss Mary for.

Mary (spoken)

And the garden. It was really the garden. And Dickon. And Ben. And Martha. Oh, it was everyone! Everyone!

Mary (sung) / Dickon / Colin

If what (if what)

You’ve got (you’ve got)

Is not (is not)

A lot (a lot),

Ben

It’s what you do, not what you get

That makes you strong, and don’t forget

Ben / Children

This world won’t turn for you!

Ensemble

So keep your chin up,

And even a grin up your sleeve

Will show them who’s who (show them who’s who).

And one little left foot (and one little left foot)

Will lead to the next foot (will lead to the next foot),

And that’s the best you can do (that’s the best you can do),

The best you can do.

Martha

When you hear a robin sing,

Something special happens when a robin sings.

Archie

And when you see lilacs bloom in spring,

Archie / Martha

All the world’s been sleeping in its cozy bed,

Then something special happens to wake up its sleepy head.

Ensemble

And late at night when you’re alone,

Something special happens so you’re not alone.

Just close your eyes, your heart knows what to say:

Now I lay me down to sleep and thank thee for this day.

[repeat stanza]

And one thing’s certain (one thing’s certain),

Very certain (very certain),

Something special happens

That way,

Something special

That way.

#The Secret Garden 1986 musical

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chainofclovers · 3 years

Text

Ted Lasso 2x3 thoughts

Brendan Hunt confirmed on Twitter that the writers wrote the first three episodes of the season with the intention of releasing them on the same day, just as they dropped the first three episodes of season one on the same day. Having finally watched the first three over three different weeks, I really wish they’d been able to launch all three on the same day. I really liked the first two episodes of the season, but the third episode really puts a lot of things into context. Between the political storyline, the return of Sassy (and a bit of a level-setting conversation between Sassy, Rebecca, and Ted) and Rebecca’s navigation of her professional life as an all-in club owner and her experience reconnecting to Nora...all of that feels like we’re done setting up the season now. Exposition complete—and to the writers’ credit, all three of these episodes are far more than exposition. A lot of story has happened.

So much so that this week’s installment has categories.

Sassy and Ted and Rebecca

Hahahahahahahahahaha

No, seriously though, I love that they are mature adults about this and I also love that Ted is Uncomfortable and, to be perfectly honest, I like that Sassy’s aggressive unfilteredness becomes an opportunity for the show to venture into more sexual references and humor about characters other than Keeley and Roy. It was a lot of information!

I’ve seen a couple of people express disappointment that Ted seems weirded out by Sassy discussing Nora’s impending first period, but I didn’t get the impression that he was grossed out by periods. There is a lot going on! Nora is right outside the room with the door open and Sassy has run through a lot of very personal topics! I felt like his reaction was more about the proximity issue in specific and the personal nature of the conversation in general more than anything else.

So many thoughts about the intersection between the biscuits and this conversation that it had to go in its own post.

Nora!

I LOVE Nora. I want every episode of this show to be about her. I want this sitcom to be called Nora Collins.

I love that Nora’s a little bit sassy (pun on her mother’s nickname only lazily intended) in the way a thirteen-year-old can be, but also enthusiastic about spending time with Rebecca and genuinely interested in meeting everyone her godmother knows. Rebecca genuinely hurt Nora, but Nora can clearly see that Rebecca is all-in on their mended relationship, and that gives her the space to be a bit teasing. She knows Rebecca’s weaknesses and has a little fun (the cooking joke when Rebecca offers to make popcorn?!) but also isn’t going to manipulate her or take advantage.

The British doll company and all the riffs on American Girl dolls, OMG. So good.

Like literally everyone, I am extremely into Rebecca and Roy actually being friends and exchanging words with each other this season. Now everyone in the group of four mains have had some great conversational moments with each other this season (I count Ted and Keeley being into Sharon’s bike as a great conversational moment, OK?!), with the exception of Roy and Ted. Cannot wait for that.

During the photo op with the team, Sassy and Rebecca remark on how Nora is loving and hating having her picture taken with Sam and the rest of the players, and that is THE experience of being thirteen years old, and Kiki May does an incredible job infusing all of Nora’s moments with the right proportions of enthusiasm to cringe. Thirteen years olds are constantly cringing but still full of spirit and life, and at constantly changing ratios, and Nora is the perfect embodiment of that.

My heart melted during the email-writing scene. Rebecca’s writing the email on Nora’s computer! In the guest room where her goddaughter is staying! They’re wearing pajamas! And Rebecca’s smile is so genuinely huge and delighted when she signs it “boss ass bitch.”

Led Tasso and Jamie’s Redemption

This was so stupid and I loved it so much. I love that Ted’s angry alter ego is absurd rather than scary, kind of like a parody of how worked up some men get over sports. I wonder if Led Tasso’s appearance in some way foreshadows a more uncontrolled, genuine anger from Ted in a later episode, because this Led Tasso dude is ridiculous.

Tentative kudos to Led Tasso for being able to point out the, ahem, clit of the soccer ball even from within a fugue state.

The entire Chuck E. Cheese exchange with Sharon was so hilarious and wonderful.

When Ted has the idea to bring out Led Tasso, Nate assumes he’s going to suggest that Jamie talk to Sharon. I absolutely adore the implication that Jamie’s growth over this episode is attributable to both Led Tasso and Sharon Fieldstone. Because while some players are still unmoved by Jamie’s willingness to stand up to Led, it didn’t go unnoticed! And then I was so proud of Keeley for refusing to take on the emotional labor of listening to Jamie when she was too busy with her actual job, and I felt that Jamie’s pretty immediate willingness to see what the therapy thing was all about was extremely in line with his character. He’s always seeking out Keeley to talk, and sometimes he actually means “talking” when he asks to talk with her! Jamie feels like someone who’s standing at a wall of doors, knocking on each one, trying to see what sticks. He really lacks foundation. I’m curious to know what he and Sharon spoke about in their session, but I like that the writers left the session private. The knowledge that he’s started seeing a psychologist is valuable information in and of itself, and Jamie’s decision to act in solidarity with Sam and the other Nigerian players is the perfect evidence that he’s thinking in new ways.

Sam and Dubai Air

Toheeb Jimoh is always great, but he’s so great in this episode. It’s cool to see his demeanor, pacing, and confidence shift as he becomes more at home with the team—and it’s also lovely to see that he, unlike Jamie, very much has a strong foundation in his home country, his supportive parents, his own moral center.

I like that Sam didn’t spend a bunch of time and emotional labor on teaching Jamie why caring about other people (and the environment!) matters, because that would’ve undercut the other political messages in this episode. Sam’s leading by example and everyone can either catch up or stay out, and it’s really great.

I really like the way they handled the press conference with Ted and Sam. I like that Ted gave the floor to Sam but prefaced that with very brief (for once!) remarks of his own. And I appreciated that Ted acknowledged his position of privilege, and that the angle isn’t that bad things never happen to white dudes but rather that when bad things do happen to people like Ted, it gets attention with so much less effort than when bad things happen to people who aren’t white men. Because that’s how privilege works—it’s not a shield that prevents bad things from happening to you, but it’s a safety net that ensures people will notice and address and even pitch in to take care of your bad things, often at the expense of the people who lack that privilege.

There’s probably lots of other stuff I could talk about, like the hilariously and realistically bad usernames on Bantr and Keeley brushing her snacks off the desk and into her purse and how things between Beard and Jane are clearly very, very bad and I’m worried about Beard and how it was soooo fun and lovely to see Shannon teasing Ted again (little coffee and football rituals before work are the kinds of details I absolutely live for) and HIGGINS PRETENDING REBECCA SENT HIM A BRILLIANT AND HEROIC EMAIL (which she does for real with Nora’s help just a couple scenes later!) and how delighted I was to feel that by this episode this season has really hit its stride and feels like a fully lived-in portrayal of the energized, loving, imperfect, busy, full place that is the whole AFC Richmond community. Honestly, Higgins pretending Rebecca sent that email because he wants to make her look good in front of her granddaughter is kind of the perfect encapsulation of what this episode felt like. This is a show about a bunch of imperfect people who want each other to succeed.

Edited to add: I was delighted to find out Ashley Nicole Black was writing for the show and the writing here did the opposite of disappoint! ❤️

#ted lasso #ted lasso s2 spoilers #a lesbian watches ted lasso #meta by me #ted lasso 2x3

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a-simple-imagine · 3 years

Text

A little bit of Devil In Her Angel Eyes

Synopsis: Your entire life changed when you met Sharon Carter in Mandripoor but one bad deal and everything comes crashing down.

Pairing: Sharon Carter x reader

Words: 3.2k

A/N - This is my first story after like a five month slump so please go easy on me. I hope its okay!! I also just reached 1.7k so thanks for that.

Warnings - swearing, mentions of blood and fighting, mentions of illegal activities.

You never lacked interest or empathy, but you'd always felt bored throughout your life. There was little excitement amongst the mundane everyday tasks. You didn't have some grand ambition to work towards; no dream job and no innate desire to settle down and have a family. You were navigating life with no direction. Never feeling like you belonged anywhere. You didn't necessarily see this as a problem but there were moments, late at night, that had you wishing for something more out of life. You just weren't quite sure what that was... until you met her.

A chance encounter in the vibrant neon lights of a dingy bar located in lowtown; a crime-ridden, impoverished district located in Mandripoor. It is the ultimate abyss of vice and degradation, where nothing was sacred and no act profane. A beautiful young woman, who so strongly contrasted her surrounding, sat at the bar sipping on a martini glass. Such a rare sight down here, it was like coming across a mythical creature. Unexpected, strange but oh so magical. One night with the woman was enough to set your senses ablaze. One night turned to two... then three... and so forth. She was the first person to ever made you feel alive; she made you feel like was worth living. It was a rollercoaster of a relationship and you never wanted to get off. And they looked to you with a look of pure admiration. She fed you sugar-coated words and tender smiles that had you on your hands and knees. You would do anything to experience the warmth of her smile or the vibrancy of her melodic laugh. And god was she the most beautiful woman you had ever laid your eyes on. An angel cast in the ethereal glow of the moon. Utterly smitten and unafraid to show it. She was softener than appearance may appear. Not always the best at expressing her feelings, you liked to think that it was evident in the little things she did. Like the cup of chamomile tea, she always offered you before bed. Or the way she always had to be touching you in some way before she could fall asleep beside you. It was clear in her overprotective nature. The way she was willing to break someone's arm just for looking at you funny. She was willing to go to war for you. The relationship worked because you were both getting high on affection; drowning in each other. However, there was a much darker side to one Miss Sharon Carter. A lot of late nights you were left wondering if she would return. She threw extravagant parties that seem innocent enough until she's sneaking off behind closed doors with shady characters. Was there ever a moment she wasn't looking over her shoulder? Rollercoasters go up and up only to fall from grace at high-velocity speeds. A smarter person may have turned and run but you never claimed to ever do what was best for yourself. You were in much too deep. Sharon Carter was a former hero turned double agent who is now one of the underworld leaders of the lawless island nation of Madripoor. Her main area of interest was selling superpowers to the highest bidder; seems there is quite the market for black market super-soldier serum. Sharon also dabbled in acquiring exquisite art pieces through less than honourable measures in order to sell. She wasn't above petty crimes and illegal substances. Quite the reputation did the woman you had found yourself utterly infatuated with. It actually made a lot of sense. And if you were being honest with yourself, you valued your relationship over any morals you may have possessed. In fact, you were actually impressed if not a little intimidated by her. The option to leave was always right there but instead, you found yourself helping her out wherever she saw fit. Why? Because there was no one you cared for more in this world than Sharon Carter.

Bright red lights had been flashing in warning since the beginning of the deal. You had been through a lot together and had watched as Sharon dealt with all kinds of messed up scenarios. You even had helped her commit atrocities but her success had begun to cloud her judgement. Blind to the inevitable. Every time you attempted to voice your concern, she brushed you aside with sweet whispers of reassurance followed by a quick peck on the cheek. Sharon could be so stubborn it was infuriating; she lived with the idea that she always knew best. That she was basically untouchable. A god. It was an attractive trait that had you weak in the knees but it also led to stupid decisions. Everything will be okay. All concern pushed to the side, you chose to believe her.

As the clock struck one, you waited patiently for your girlfriend to return. A pit deep in your stomach that kept you from even considering going to bed before she arrived home. A cold cup of tea sat on the kitchen table as you numbed your mind with the bright screen of an iPhone. The click of the front door made your ears perk up, a smile settling on your lips. Thank god she was finally home, you weren't sure you could handle it much longer. Calling out for her, you receive no response but footsteps echo through the house. Not just one though. Did she have company over? It wouldn't be the first time she turned up late with some associates on her tail. Normally you wouldn't mind but you would have at least appreciated the heads up.

"What-" Words come to an abrupt end as a gloved hand slaps over your mouth. Chair crashes to the floor, phone slams against the table as you're dragged out of your seat. Struggling against a tight grip, they drag you across the room where you notice two shadows lurking on the sidelines waiting to pounce. A punch to the stomach so beautifully engraved with your girlfriend's name has you pushing against the arms that thankfully let go; flinging you to the ground. A black toed boot slams into your stomach followed by a barrage of varying blows. As your vision begins to fade, you're reminded of the last question regarding her predicament. It had been over a very early breakfast staged before a rising sun.

"You're up early." Your girlfriend hums in your ear as arms snake around your shoulders; sleep evident in her voice.

"Couldn't sleep," A purple mug brought to your lips, you take a small sip. "I was thinking-

"How many times do we have to go over this?" Sharon interrupts. "Everything is going to be just fine- I have it handled."

You had heard that many times but it was less convincing every time it left her lips. It left a bad taste behind. As strong as she may have convinced everyone she was, this was turning into the story of Icarus and she was getting far too close to the sun.

"Do you?" Your question is quiet, unsure of how she'll take it. "because this is getting to be a little too much."

"You trust me right?" It always came down to trust. It was the end to this conversation almost every time; basically her personal way of getting you to shut up. You didn't dare express that you didn't have complete and utter faith in her.

"I do." You nod a little.

"Then trust me when I say it's all gonna work out," Voice but a whisper that tickled your ear before she plants a kiss against your shoulder. "I'm gonna make a fresh pot of coffee."

Perhaps it was naïve to think this would never happen but it had simply never occurred to you that they would target you. But of course, they would, you were a part of her life. Sharon was the big bad and who better to target than you. Someone not trained by SHIELD or the CIA. It was an easier message to send. When you finally stir awake, you find yourself staring into familiar dark brown eyes; their flicks of gold a comforting sign. You had never felt pain quite like this before in your entire life. Somehow it felt like your entire body was actively on fire while also being completely numb. You couldn't feel anything other than the pain coursing through your veins at this moment. But at least you were alive. And Sharon was okay.

"Thank god," She spoke softly.

"...h...ey." The words burn your throat as you stumble through such a simple word. Coughing a few times to try and help but it just aggravated your chest. "You're... okay."

"So are you," Sharon leans forward, her lips brushing against your forehead. "Do- Do you think you can walk?" There was urgency behind her tone and the blonde didn't even wait for an answer before she was trying to usher you to your feet. A loud groan slips through clenched teeth. It was a symphony of agony but the feeling was sharpest deep in your chest. Nausea sets in your stomach. a rich throbbing in your head made worse as you shook your head. Sharon took the hint and stopped. "...We can't stay here." You knew that. It wasn't safe here anymore. Everything just felt like too much though. Your body was in torment. You felt like dinner was about to make a reappearance at any moment. And your chest felt worse with every breathe you took. After a moment, the other tries again. Supporting you as she pulls you to your feet; the majority of the work was on her part. With an arm around her shoulders, the two of you moved very slowly towards a car.

"Where... are we... going?" You understood the need to leave but where would you even go? A strong chill rode the late night wind. It was nice out. peaceful. Slumped against the passenger seat, Sharon reached over to click in the seatbelt before shutting the door and getting in the other side. It was proving difficult to stay focused on anything. Your head felt heavy on your shoulders and a sort of cloudiness settled over you. A big sigh on her end. With a tight grip on the steering wheel, Sharon just stared ahead. Was she okay? Watching her for a moment, you lay your hand atop her thigh which seemingly brought her back to reality. Turning to you, she flashes a smile then starts the car. It sputters but comes to life. Nothing was shared as you move along quiet roads. It's always a little weird to see the roads so empty but that quickly changes as you cross over into lowtown. You kind of fade in and out but never entirely. It's rather like overwhelming drowsiness. The car comes to a stop outside an unfamiliar run-down building. A strange choice all things considered. However, it's not so bad once you step inside. The room floods with light revealing a relatively small space covered in an untouched layer of dust. An ugly brown coach sat next to a small old TV. A little dining table sat in the corner. Limping over the threshold, she lowers you to the cold laminated ground. With a little whine of help, you try to reach for her as she begins to walk away but it would take more strength than you have. A quiet exhale as your eyes flutter closed. "Try and stay awake," Her voice drags you back to reality in time to watch her disappear into another room. "Just for a little while." Left alone it takes everything in you not to fall back against the floor. On returning, Sharon takes up space right behind you. You assume she is checking you over as her hand graces the back of your head. Humming ever so softly to herself before slipping over your shoulders and pulling you flush against her. A low groan slips painfully from your throat. Finding a sense of comfort from being in her arms. Despite everything that happened, she still made you feel... unbelievable safe. The two of you just sit there together for a moment, feeling her chest rise and fall. It's hard to miss the blood now smudged across the floor. Things were really bad. "Let's get you cleaned up, okay? A quick shower and then you can go to bed."

You would have preferred to just go to bed but still, you nod against her. You were much too out of it to be making any sort of decisions right now. A disapproving hum as she releases you from her grip. You weren't quite ready for the moment to end. Once again, Sharon helps you to your feet but it's easier this time now that you know exactly what to expect. It still hurt desperately, it was just no longer a surprise when it happened. Stumbling towards the shoebox of a bathroom, the blonde woman turns the nob and water erupts from the showerhead on the wall. Every few seconds she would ask if you're still okay as she very carefully removes your clothes. Brown eyes drifting over every inch of your body and back up; her brow furrowing. Meeting your eyes, she reaches over to place her fingertips against your torso. Applying a little pressure, you grunt loudly stepping away. "Did that hurt?"

"Mhmm,"

Her head tilts a little. "It looks like you have a broken rib but can't know for sure."

Standing before her, you notice a large slash across her left cheek; dried blood leading from the wound. She also had a busted lip and a gash on her eyebrow. Some kind of altercation had clearly taken place. Sharon removed her clothes and was quick to step under the heavy flow of water. Holding out her hand for you to take, she leads you under the water. The heat feels surprisingly nice against your skin. Your eyes meet and then your lips connect in a kiss. The faint taste of copper lingers on her lips but it's washed away with the blood, sweat, and tears of the day. It's forceful and passionate; dripping with emotions. She may have been the reason this happened but you were still grateful she was here right now. "This shouldn't have happened," Sharon whispers softly against your lips. "I... I should have been there." The woman pulls you closer like she had completely forgotten that you were attacked by three people earlier that day. Her skin is colder than expected strongly contrasting the steaming water.

"You didn't know." You mumble into her shoulder. Sharon doesn't answer. Merely lifts your head so you were facing each other and places a sympathetic hand upon your cheek. Savouring the tenderness of the moment is enough to bring your emotions bubbling to the surface. As much as the two of you lived the high life, it took its own toll. This life was hard. And despite never wanting it before, you sometimes wished you lived a much more mundane life but with Sharon beside you. Your brows furrow as your lip trembles. You place your hand over hers and a few tears start to fall. "...I'm scared." There were few moments you found yourself admitting to such a thing but you'd never been attacked before. Not like this. Not because of someone else.

"I know." She replies after a moment. "I am too. I'm really fucking sorry." Leaning in again, Sharon surprises you with another kiss. It's sloppier this time. Rougher. Like she's trying to prove how sorry she is. It becomes a peppering of kisses placed carelessly across your face. You smile a little, a soft little laugh that causes you to cough. "You know I love you right?" You nod a little against her and she backs up a little. Both hands against your cheeks, she meets your gaze. "I love you so much and I am going to fix this. I will protect you."

Oh how you would like to believe those words to be true but it was a promise she could not make. It was a promise she had made many times before and look what happened today? Sharon was in the wrong business to guarantee safety. But still, you wrap your arms around her, enveloping her in a cautious hug. Letting your head fall against her shoulder. You could not possibly be more in love with this woman if you tried. You knew she would do everything in her power to keep you safe. A few minutes pass as you simply let the waterfall over you and then you actually wash up and get out. Cast in the warm glow of the bedside lamp, you're sat in the middle of a double bed with Sharon sat directly across from you. This time you allow the woman to tend to your injuries properly, dapping the back of your head with a damp cloth. "Do you think we'll be okay?"

"I do." Sharon responds sharply. "don't you?"

She drops the cloth that was now stained with spots of red to the bed. You raise your shoulders in a little shrug. Sharon was a very capable woman but it was hard not to be a little worried about the whole thing. "I don't know... I don't... exactly feel great."

"You just need to rest."

"yeah maybe," A solemn sigh slips into the air. You sit in silence as Sharon finishes up contemplating what was to come. Had this just been an attempt to scare you? Would this happen again in the future? How was Sharon even going to fix this? When she goes to close the first aid box, you stop her. Taking the lead, it was your turn to look after her and tend to her wounds. You take some cotton wool and soak it in rubbing alcohol before gently dabbing at her wounds. She doesn't quite flinch but her body tenses upon first contact suggesting it stung just a little. "I'm really sorry this happened,"

"It's fine, you should see the other guy. Besides, you look worse than I do," An attempt at humour but it doesn't land dampening your girlfriend's spirit just a little.

"I'm sorry I made you worry." Dropping the wool, you trade it for some closure strips. "I'm sorry I'm so... useless. I was caught off guard."

"You're not useless," Sharon assures you as you place one strip after the other across the injury to her cheek. "You don't have anything to apologise for. This is my fault."

You want to argue but it's too much for right now wanting nothing more than to climb under the sheets and sleep for the next week at least. "Let's just go to bed." Collecting all the items scattered across the duvet, Sharon dispossesses of the blood-soaked clothe and cotton wool before placing the bright green box on the dresser. Lingering there for a moment, you can tell something off. "You'll stay with me, right?" Turning on her heel, Sharon slides under the covers beside you. You shared a bed often but she was never one to cuddle. Tonight though, she was closer than normal. Her hand rests gently on your waist and regardless of the pain, it doesn't take long for you to drift off to sleep.

#sharon carter x reader #sharon carter #the falcon and the winter soldier #Emily VanCamp

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mymoonagedaydream · 4 years

Note

ps, idk what the biker/college bucky story will include but i can throw out the idea of doing the modern day army veteran Bucky as a one shot or something? or whatever you don't include in the series lol

Recluse

Summary: You barely even expected to get a conversation out of Steve’s reclusive roommate, never mind anything more than that.

Pairing: Modern Veteran!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Language, smut references, references to military service

Author’s Note: You bet your butt I can do that for you anon. This one really got out of hand idk what happened man I couldn’t stop.

---

You’d been living with your friend Sharon for a couple of years now, and it was still going pretty well.

Your ground-floor apartment was very compact, but she was so considerate and easy to get on with, you barely even noticed the lack of space. She cooked for you occasionally, always paid rent on time, even did your laundry without being asked.

You just couldn’t help thinking that things were much more fun when you were both single.

Nothing much had changed in your life, you were still a lone wolf, but she’d been with Steve for almost six months now and you barely ever saw her anymore.

Most nights you were just left to your own devices, clattering around the apartment like some sad old spinster.

It got to the point where, one Friday when you got home from work, you heard Steve and Sharon talking in the kitchen and got excited at the prospect of just having some company for the evening.

Sharon almost jumped on you as soon as you walked in. ‘Y/n! Are you free tonight?’

‘Yeah, totally, completely. You guys sticking around?’

‘You think he’d ever agree to that?.’

‘We were actually thinking of going out for some drinks. You in?’ You contemplated for a second, not wanting to come across too eager, then gave her an enthusiastic nod.

As she grinned back at you, you saw an idea dawn on her. ‘Steve, you should totally bring Bucky.’

Sharon frowned in resignation. You had no idea who they were talking about, their conversation going completely over your head.

Steve went home to change, leaving you and Sharon with a couple hours to get ready before heading out, so you thought you might as well try to probe a little deeper.

‘Who’s Bucky?’ You asked casually, sitting on her bed, watching her hold dress after dress up to herself in the mirror.

‘Steve’s roommate.’

‘I didn’t know Steve had a roommate?’

‘I’d be more surprised if you did.’ She turned towards you. ‘In six months I’ve only met him twice.’

Your eyebrows darted up. She spent so much time at Steve’s place, that made no sense at all.

‘What? Why?’

‘I’m pretty sure he makes a point to avoid people generally.’ She flopped herself down next to you on the bed, her tone lowering to one of deep sincerity. ‘He was in the army with Steve. Apparently he just really struggled to adapt when they got back, collapsed in on himself for a while. I think he’s a mechanic now but Steve is still the only person he really speaks to.’

‘Shit, that’s awful.’

She gave a grim nod and shrugged slightly, before standing back up and starting to get changed.

You figured you should do the same, shuffling back to your room and finally taking off your work clothes, relieved at the thought of getting out of the apartment for the evening.

Just as you were about to leave, Sharon’s phone pinged.

‘Holy shit.’

‘What?’ You’d never seen her look so shocked. She put her index finger up at you while quickly typing something back. ‘You’re killing me here Sharon, what the hell is going on?’

‘Bucky’s coming.’

---

You managed to find a cramped table in the back of the bar. Sharon made you wait for Steve to arrive before ordering drinks, because for some reason he always insisted on buying the first round.

About ten minutes after you arrived, she glanced over to the door, grinned and waved her hand above her head. Following her gaze, you saw Steve pushing through the crowd, followed closely by a statuesque, tower of a man.

Studying him intently as he approached, you noticed how visibly uncomfortable he was, his jaw clenched tight and his hands folded into slowly whitening fists. You let your eyes dance over his huge shoulders and wide chest, feeling your stomach flip a little as he got closer.

‘Hey guys. Sharon, you remember Buck?’ Steve gave his friend a proud pat on the shoulder. Sharon nodded and grinned at Bucky, getting only a short, tight smile in return. ‘And this is y/n.’

Looking up to his face, his sharp blue eyes briefly met yours, prompting you to quickly avert your gaze. He looked tense enough without you gawping at him.

‘Nice to meet you.’ You adopted the friendliest tone possible, doing your best to put him at ease.

Steve went to grab some drinks and Sharon volunteered to help him, leaving you at the table with Bucky, bracing yourself for some intensely awkward small talk.

‘So, you’re a mechanic?’ He nodded. ‘Do you enjoy it?’ Another nod.

Alright, he obviously wasn’t in the mood for chatting.

Christ. If you didn’t break free from this spinster shit soon, that’s exactly where you’d end up.

You didn’t want to force it if he wasn’t comfortable, you could happily sit in silence if that’s what he’d prefer.

You moved your eyes to scan the room, eventually landing on an older woman propping herself up at the bar, downing martinis, eyeing up young men and wobbling on her insanely high heels.

‘What do you do?’

It was barely a mumble, you hardly heard it over the bar’s background music.

Your eyes returned to Bucky’s face, meeting his hesitant gaze.

‘I work in HR, so boring admin stuff mainly.’ He nodded slightly, his eyes flicking nervously between the table and your face. ‘But occasionally I get to use the shredder, which is pretty rad.’

He cracked a brief smile, the sight of it giving you a wave of goosebumps. ‘Sounds thrilling.’

‘I’ve never been here before, have you?’ You were determined to keep this conversation going, especially if there was a chance that you’d be able to make him smile again.

‘No. I haven’t been to any bars recently.’

‘You’ve got quite a bit of catching up to do then.’

Resting your head on your hand, you gave him a mischievous smirk, and felt a little smug as you noticed his shoulders relax slightly and the corners of his mouth curl upwards.

Hours passed, the bar called last orders, and the four of you traipsed out to begin walking home.

Then Steve and Sharon came back with the drinks, pretty effectively ruining the moment you’d been setting up.

Bucky went quiet again, keeping to himself for most of the evening, only speaking when spoken to. You felt his gaze fall on you occasionally, but each time you tried to meet his eyes they were quickly averted.

‘Oh hey, I forgot to ask.’ Steve gestured towards you. ‘Sharon said you went to visit your parents last weekend? How was that?’

‘I couldn’t go in the end, my car's fucked. It’s my own fault, everyday there was a new rattling sound but just ignored it.’

‘I’ll take a look at it.’ Your eyes snapped over to Bucky, a little shocked at how enthusiastically he’d come out with that. ‘If you want.’

You gave him a wide smile. ‘Wow, yeah, that’d be amazing. Thank you.’

---

A few days later, you were faced with another evening alone while Sharon was at Steve’s.

You unenthusiastically pulled a ready meal out of the fridge and poked some holes in the plastic, shoving it in the microwave and reaching for the half-empty bottle of wine on the counter.

‘Hi. Sorry. I was coming this way and Sharon said you’d be in, I thought I could take a look at your car?’

Just as you went to grab a glass out of the cupboard, you were stopped by a faint knock at the front door.

Shuffling over and yanking it open, you saw Bucky standing on your doorstep, looking just as uncomfortable as he did walking into that bar.

You were a little embarrassed that he’d caught in your pyjamas at 6:30, but that feeling was hugely outweighed with how pleased you were to see him.

‘Yeah, great.’ You gave him a warm smile. ‘I’ll just grab my keys.’

You found your gaze pretty quickly drawn to his arms, propping him up as he leant over the machinery like thick, hefty tree trunks. It was amazing how entranced you were by them, but considering how long it’d been since you’d even brushed past an attractive male, it made sense. God the things you’d let him do, if he-

You slipped on your shoes and led him over to the rustbucket, badly parked on the street outside. He flicked open the bonnet and immediately started tinkering.

You had less than no idea what was happening, but it looked very impressive.

‘Could you start it up?’ His deep voice pulled you out of your hazy fantasies.

‘Hmm? Oh, yeah.’

You tried your best to hide how flustered you were as you climbed into the driver's seat and turned the key. An intense rattling started, which he listened to for a second before signalling for you to turn it off and closing the bonnet.

‘You were right, it needs a lot of work. It’s definitely not safe to drive.’

‘Shit, stuck with the bus then.’ You sighed and climbed out, slamming the door behind you. ‘Thank you so much, you really didn’t have to do this. I appreciate it.’

‘Anytime.’ He smiled politely, taking a couple steps backwards before turning, dropping his head and starting to walk away.

‘You can come in for a drink if you want?’ You called after him, a little shocked at your boldness but not at all mad about it. He spun round. ‘It’s the least I can do.’

He took a sip and turned himself slightly to face you. ‘Look, if you bring your car to the shop where I work, I can probably keep the price down.’

His polite smile evolved into a wide grin as he nodded, following you inside.

You grabbed him a beer from the fridge and gestured for him to join you on the couch, smiling to yourself at how nervous he seemed as he balanced himself right on the edge of the seat.

‘Are you sure?’ He nodded. ‘That's so nice, you barely even know me.’

He looked a little sheepish at that, scurrying around for his words. ‘Sharon was pretty keen for me to come take a look, it’s probably best to keep Steve’s girlfriend on side, y’know.’

‘Oh I do know, Sharon can be terrifying.’ You both chuckled as Bucky edged back, settling himself into the couch a little more. ‘So you and Steve met in the army?’

‘We’ve been friends since we were kids, we signed up together.’

‘That’s nice.’ You tilted your head at him, deciding to take a slight gamble on your next question. ‘Do you miss it?’

He fixed his eyes on the ground and faintly shook his head, nervously starting to pick at the label on his bottle.

Shit, you really didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable, you were just curious.

A swift subject change remedied the situation somewhat, and after a while you sensed him beginning to relax again.

You finished off your glass of wine and checked your phone, your hand shooting up to your forehead in shock when you saw that it was close to midnight.

Over the next couple hours he slowly came out of his shell even further, eventually chatting and laughing with you like you were his good friend. The two of you unconsciously edged towards each other throughout the evening, ending up face to face with legs folded up on the couch, as close as you could get without touching.

‘Shit, I have work tomorrow.’

‘I’m really sorry.’ He put his bottle on the coffee table and stood up quickly. ‘I didn’t mean to keep you up.’

‘Oh you don’t have to apologise, it’s not your fault. I had a really nice evening.’

‘Me too.’ He smiled and buried his hands in his pockets, following you to the front door. ‘I’m working every day this week, you can come in whenever.’

‘Friday would be great? I have the day off.’

‘See you then.’

You watched him disappear down the street, feeling your limbs tingle with excitement at the prospect of seeing him again so soon.

---

You usually used your days off to sleep in till midday, but on Friday the tow truck showed up at 7am to take your car to the shop. You didn’t even get up that early on workdays. A pint of coffee was barely enough to keep you from passing out on the ride there.

He eventually noticed you stood there, staring, and your face immediately heated up as he approached.

You hurried inside the garage, scanning the room and eventually spotting Bucky underneath a hoisted truck, reaching up to work on it. His arms were glistening with oil and sweat and his shirt was riding up, exposing the faint trail of hair starting underneath his bellybutton.

Lord in heaven, what a view.

‘Sorry, didn’t want to interrupt.’

‘That’s alright.’ He pulled a dirty rag out of his pocket and roughly wiped his hands. ‘Did you bring the deathtrap?’

‘Yep, just outside.’

‘It’s gonna be a while. I finish at four, d’you wanna come back then?’

‘Sure.’

You walked up the driveway ten minutes early, which you thought was reasonable, and asked the very intimidating guy out front for Bucky. He just eyed you up and down and gestured vaguely to the side of the building.

On the way home you kept accidentally walking into roads, your mind completely occupied with Bucky’s midriff.

The whole day dragged. In your boredom you ended up leaving for the garage about an hour too early, meaning you had to loiter in an off-license, probably looking like you were shoplifting.

Turning the corner, you were met with a pretty impressive, cinematic wide shot of Bucky’s arse as he was leaning over the inside of your bonnet.

You should probably say something. Tell him you were there. Say hello.

Yeah, probably should.

Yeaaah.

You sighed and reluctantly shuffled towards the car.

‘How’s it-’ Bucky jumped and whacked his head against the propped-up bonnet. ‘Fuck! I’m so sorry, are you alright?’

He smiled at you, standing up and rubbing the back of his head. ‘Yeah, all good. Happens all the time.’

‘Oh, really? In that case you might want to consider a career change, could end up with some permanent damage.’ Chuckling, he reached up and slammed the bonnet with one powerful movement. ‘How’s it looking?’

‘Not bad. Want to take it for a spin?’

‘Sure.’ He held up the keys and you grabbed them out of his hand, excitedly hopping in the driver’s seat while he walked around and got in the passenger side. ‘You coming?’

‘Can’t just let you drive off without paying, you might never come back.’

You shot him a wide smile as you fired up the engine, amazed at how smooth it sounded, and pulled away from the garage.

‘I can’t believe it, it didn’t even run this good when I first got it.’ He smirked a little and nodded. ‘Thank you, Buck.’

You were already in the outskirts of the city, so you decided to drive out into the sticks a little, eventually pulling up into a dusty layby on a narrow side road.

Glancing to your side, you saw that Bucky was struggling not to look very pleased with himself.

As he began stroking his thumb along your knuckles, he cautiously pulled his gaze up to your face, looking at you like you’d just told him he’d won the lottery.

His hands were resting on his thighs and, almost unconsciously, you reached out to grab the one closest to you and squeeze it lightly.

He stared down at it for a few seconds, eventually turning his hand over and squeezing back.

You could barely even remember what happened next. You remember the back of your neck tingling, your stomach tightening almost to the point of becoming painful, the feeling of Bucky’s rough, calloused hand against your cheek and the way your heart jumped when he leaned towards you and pressed his mouth against yours.

Eventually pulling away, he buried his face in your neck, planting short kisses along your jawline between laboured breaths. You pushed his head back against the seat and pressed your forehead to his, closing your eyes and letting your hands dance down his chest.

It was slow and tender at first, but it quickly picked up, becoming feverish and passionate.

He threw his arms around your waist and roughly pulled you over onto his lap, holding you so tight to his chest that you couldn’t tell whose heart you could feel thumping like a steam engine.

‘It’s been a while since I’ve done that.’ He sighed, bringing a hand up to bury itself in your hair.

‘Me too.’ Your mouth curled into a smile. ‘It’s been even longer for other stuff.’

Melting into each other in a cacophony of limbs and flesh and tearing clothes, both of you eventually found the release you so desperately needed.

There was a loaded silence, you opened your eyes to see Bucky staring at you intently, wearing an expression that made your toes curl.

You dived clumsily into the backseat and pulled him after you, giggling as you both adjusted yourselves, trying to get even slightly comfortable in such a tight space.

And both of you did all you could to savour the feeling of finally having someone to hold close.

---

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justreadingfics · 4 years

Text

It’s a Deal (Chapter 5)

Chapter Summary: Movie nights are the best.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 4.8k

Warnings:+18 only, smut, boytoy!Bucky, fingering in a room with other people in it, blow job, oral (female receiving) casual sex, opened relationship,

A/N: I’m sorry it took me so long for this one. I can’t promise it won’t happen the same with next chapter, but I sure hope not. I previously said the next chapters would be less smut, but with these two you never know… Thank you to my sweet Les for having my back. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated.

Tag list for this story is closed.

Your breathing is heavy.

The silky slide of his tongue makes you moan, deep, and you dig your nails on his scalp, pulling his hair even harder. He groans and the vibrations hit your core. He was right the other day, you love grabbing his hair, especially when you’re on his bed and his head is between your legs first thing in the morning.

No, you haven’t slept there that night. It would be your first day in your new job position and you thought it would be best to have a good and uneventful night of sleep, free of any action that could keep you up. But the thing with good nights of sleep is they’re actually not as relaxing as Bucky Barnes’s sweet tongue and you decided you needed it before you started the day.

Good thing he lives where you work and he didn’t turn you down when you called him at that ungodly hour. That’s how you end up there, at the verge of a morning orgasm, your skirt and underwear tossed somewhere in his bedroom and you only wearing your heels and your white blouse while he’s eating you out on his bed, butt-naked, because that’s just how he sleeps every night.

“Oh, fucking shitballs,” you curse when he closes his lips around your clit. The throbbing little nub is swollen and aching for a release.

He chuckles against your sensitive and wet pussy, pulling you harder against his face, deepening his fingers on your thighs. Deeply focused on his task, he flattens his tongue and laps at you.

The change of movements doesn’t go unnoticed by you, who cries out at the waves of pleasure rushing up your body. A few more talented strokes of his tongue and you lose it. You moan a loud chant of courses and your back arches as your shivering legs shut around his head and your heels cross over his back.

That’s when a huge bang breaks into your dreamy state and makes you shout and jump on the bed, your face snapping towards the loud sound.

“I fucking knew it.”

Natasha’s voice isn’t one you were expecting to hear at that moment, and it takes you a moment to understand what is happening. There is your friend, in full tactical gear, arms smugly crossed in front of her body while she stands by the door she has just kicked opened. It takes you an even longer moment to remember the position you’re in. You look down to see Bucky, smirking, peeking at her from between your thighs, his face glistening with your juices all around it.

“What the hell?” You shout, finally releasing him from the clasp of your legs and pulling the first piece of fabric you find on his bed over your exposed lower half as you swiftly drag yourself away from him.

“Does Fury need me again?” Bucky asks, completely unbothered by Nat’s presence or his nakedness… or his extremely evident hard on, you notice, when he stands up from the spot he was bent down, before jumping to lay down beside you.

Something tells you this isn’t a one-time occurrence, but it doesn’t change the fact that is happening to you and how hot your cheeks are from sheer embarrassment in getting caught in such a situation.

“Nice hair, stud,” she comments, gaining a smug expression in response, before continuing, “He needs her, actually. Congratulations on your promotion, by the way,” Natasha smirks, pointing at you and your heart rushes up to beat against your throat at the mention of Fury’s name.

“What? Holy fuck,” you curse, wrapping the sheet around you before flying out of the bed and moving to pick up your pieces of clothes tossed by the floor.

“Told you she would be here, Steve,” Natasha tilts her head to behind her shoulder.

A low, strangled grunt comes from the living room.

That makes you halt at once as you bend down to pick your underwear. Incredibly widened eyes snap at Natasha. As your cheeks burn hotter than ever, she covers her mouth with the back of her hand, obviously holding back a mischievous laugh.

“Hey, Punk,” Bucky shouts from the bed.

“You should’ve seen his face at fucking, shitballs.” Nat bursts out in uncontained laughs, followed shortly by Bucky.

You can’t believe it. Captain Fucking America is waiting on the next room as you pick up your clothes after he heard the mind-blowing orgasm given by his friend to you on your first day on your new job - one that will require that you’d meet with the Avenger often - and you’re as mortified as you’d ever be. You know Nat enough to know she doesn’t mean any harm by it all, and you’ll know that eventually you will laugh with her about that moment, but eventually it’s definitely not now and she’s obviously having too much fun with your misery, so a little wish for vengeance burns up inside you.

“She told me you gave her the best orgasm of her life,” you blurt out, looking at Bucky, but the underwear in your hands at her. You bolt to the bathroom right after, locking the door behind you, but not before glimpsing the outraged expression on her face.

“You damn traitor,” Natasha yells, as you rush to put yourself together inside the bathroom.

“Well, looks like we’re a good pair,” you yell back.

“Calm down, ladies…” Bucky says and you can hear the amusement in his voice, as you work to freshen up, “Don’t worry, Steve would die before acknowledge this ever happened,” he raises his voice for you to hear, as an evident attempt to soothe you, but you can’t say it’s as effective as he would expect. “And you,” you guess he’s speaking to Natasha, “like I didn’t know that already. You were very vocal at the time and seemed like you’d forgotten I understand Russian perfectly.”

As put together as you can be in that situation, dying to bolt away and having Fury waiting for your ass, you open the bathroom’s door soon enough to see Nat flipping Bucky off as he cheekily winks at her.

“Ok.” You tap your hands down your skirt to straighten the little wrinkles on the fabric, “How do I look?” you ask Natasha. The formal outfit is way different from your usual jeans and sneakers, but it’s your first day in a very important position. Dress to impress felt like the right choice.

“Stunning.” The answer comes from both Nat and Bucky and you can only let yourself soften as they smile at each other, a clear sign of peace.

“Alright,” you nod, walking to grab your purse on the armchair next to his bed, “Ahm… thank you, Bucky,” you seriously don’t know what else you can say to him at that moment.

“Anytime, sweetheart, you know that,” he makes a reverence, before linking his hands behind his head with a very pleased tug on the corner of his lips.

You clear your throat, trying to not indulge him in a less than perfect circumstances, before turning to a too amused Natasha.

“See you tonight?” she asks, tilting her head.

“Yeah, of course,” you sigh, all the annoyance completely gone, “Welcome back, talk to you later.” You say goodbye by placing a kiss on her cheeks.

As you rush across the living room and towards the way out, Captain Fucking America looks absolutely guilty and red as the stripes on his uniform, “I told her not to, but-“

“I know,” you sure do know how determined Natasha Romanoff can be, “Can we please never talk about it again?”

“Gladly,” he quickly answers, looking as relieved as you before you bolt out of Bucky’s apartment.

~~~

His cell phone buzzes in his pocket and he picks it up as the elevator runs up to the common floor. He’s dying for one of Wanda’s cookies, which she usually bakes at this hour for everyone. Unlocking the screen he sees the text. It’s from Olivia, asking if he has plans for that night, with a winkie emoji at the end. Emojis… he loves them, one of the best things from the future.

He's about to type the answer when the elevator doors open and he hears the sound of a movie playing loudly in the TV room. Oh, so there’s one of those movie night things going… the cookies will definitely be there.

He quickly steps towards the sound and opens the door to the dark room, meeting a few squinting expressions at the light that shines from behind him. As soon as he finds one particular scrunched face among the other ones his lips curl in a smirk and, before putting his phone back in his pocket, he types a quick reply saying he’s already got plans, the same answer he’s given to every other message he’s received those last few weeks that wasn’t from the woman greeting him with a small and discreet smile right now.

“So soon at home?” Natasha asks, munching a mouthful of popcorn. Along with her in the room are Sam, seating next to her on one of the sofas, Steve and Sharon sharing an armchair and a bowl of popcorn, Wanda laying on some big cushions on the floor, eating one of her cookies while she, the face that got his attention and instant interest, is comfortably seating all by herself on a big and inviting sofa, cozily tucked under a blanket.

“Didn’t even go out,” Bucky shrugs, “Movie night, huh?” He peeks in, averting his gaze from her to the big screen, “And one of my favorite movies I see..” he says, having absolutely no idea which movie that is and why there’s a creepy guy talking to a ball in the middle of an island.

“In or out, dude,” Sam throws some popcorn on him, “Shut the damn door.”

“Alright, alright,” Bucky does as he says, not even engaging with Sam’s teasing. He has other things occupying his mind.

And said “other things” eyes him suspiciously as he walks towards the sofa she’s been occupying alone. He doesn’t say anything before throwing himself on the cushions, right next to her, despite all the space left. He can feel everyone’s eyes, maybe except Sam’s, lingering on him for a little too long, but it doesn’t bother him at all as he makes himself comfortable, reaching over to grab a cookie from the plate on the small table in front of him.

“Hi,” he whispers, turning to face her.

“Hi,” she answers back with a small smile, before focusing on the movie again.

“You don’t mind do you?” Bucky once again whispers, pulling the end of her blanket while he munches the cookie.

She eyes him for a moment and he has to hold back a laugh. She has to know where he’s going with this and if that time they’ve spent together because of their deal made him get to know her at least a bit, he bets she’ll play along with him.

“No?” her answer comes out on a wary whisper and he doesn’t waste a second before sinking beneath her blanket, dragging himself a bit closer to her.

When he’s cozy enough, he turns to the movie again, pretending to be paying attention to the screen while she does the same. He knows it’s all a façade and she’s waiting to find out what he’s up to. He loves it. It’s only after several minutes – teasing her is always good fun – that his hand under the blanket casually navigates through the cushions and rests on her thigh.

As soon as his hand touches her skin, he senses the flinch of her body. While he shoves the last piece of cookie in his mouth, with the corner of his eyes, he catches when she glances not at him, but at the rest of the group in the room. The fact she doesn’t bat his hand right away, encourages him to give her thigh a pointed squeeze and that’s when she shoots him a warning glare. Which he ignores, of course, in favor of letting his hand snake up her smooth skin. The small hitch of her breath doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

He smiles to find out she’s wearing a skirt.

When his hand moves down to the soft inner part of her thigh, she shuts her legs, trapping it in place. He doesn’t look at her while he just waits… all he has to do is to wait. He can tell she’s a bit nervous as he feels her eyes on him before they turn to the others, but a light and sweet scent, which is now very familiar, teases his nostrils, ever so lightly, and he knows she’s more than up to that little game. He hopes for the other super soldier in the room to be focused enough on his girl next to him so he doesn’t catch the faint scent in the air.

He waits.

The confirmation of her true disposition comes when she slowly opens her legs and shifts on the sofa, lifting one knee up so the blanket makes a tent, making it hard for anyone to spot where his hand really lays beneath the blanket.

Bucky is then more than happy to resume his ascend until he cups her mound through the cotton of her underwear. He keeps his touch light, barely brushing her mound, noticing a little wetness pulling at the fabric and smirking. But what makes him almost lose his shit is to find out how impatiently up to his game she actually is, when she dips her hand under the blanket and guides his hand beneath the cotton, letting his fingers rest on her clit before she removes her hand.

Goddamit, he has to hold back to not let a loud moan both at her initiative and the warm and smooth feeling on his fingers. He can’t believe how lucky he is to be spending this time and sharing moments like this with her. He has to admit that this deal he has set with her is the best thing that has happened to him in a while. Yes, he has a great deal of women he can call his friends and has been spending time with. But with her…

Bucky’s sure he has found his partner in crime.

He’s aware of the long time she’s been in a relationship and he knows the ending wasn’t that great. But in spite of that, she trusts him completely to make her feel good and not hurt her in any way, and he loves that he can do that… Make her feel good.

He starts caressing her clit, noticing how her body responds, a tiny hitch on her breathing, her lower lip between her teeth… He doesn’t want to make her wait much longer, seeing how eager she definitely is. Another thing he adores about her… she’s always up to go a bit further with him, to break some limits. He would never do anything she’s not comfortable with, but it’s addicting her willingness for more, to go beyond herself to reach the goal or finding pleasure and a good time.

Truly a partner in crime.

Her gaze remains on the screen while he fingers her under the blanket, but he can hear a particularly louder sigh as her head falls back on the sofa.

Bucky looks around but no one seems to have noticed anything, paying attention to whatever is happening in the movie. Discreetly, he grabs a small pillow from the sofa and places it over his lap to hide how much the mission to drive her to the edge and the wetness gathering around his fingers under the blanket are affecting him.

He has learned the way her body works enough to know she’s almost there. Also, he knows she has a thing for exposed and dangerous situations like that, the thrilling possibility of getting caught, the filthy actions in an otherwise innocent situation… Fuck if his cock isn’t aching for some attention, too…If had his way he would bent her over that couch and take her right then and there, to hell with everyone else.

Glancing at her, he spots the clenched jaw and fluttering eyelids. She comes all over his fingers without making a single noise and, damn, she turns him on so much.

After a few more strokes to ease her down, he pulls his fingers away and, as she watches him from the corner of her eyes, he brings them to his lips, licking them deliciously as he stares at the movie. Her sweet taste makes him painfully hard beneath his jeans and that’s when she surprises him by throwing the blanket to the side and swiftly getting up.

“Are you ok?” Nat asks as all the faces snap to the woman standing up.

“Yeah, sure. Just need to go to the bathroom. No need to pause the movie, I’ll be quick,” she answers, but she doesn’t leave the room without glancing at Bucky with a small tug on the corner of her lips.

His cock twitches at it… That’s his cue, right? It has to be, or else he’ll explode right then and there. He waits a few minutes for good measure before pulling his phone from the pocket. He pretends to be reading something on the screen before clicking his tongue, “Got to go. That was fun, though, let’s do it again sometime.”

Bucky’s damn sure Natasha not for a second buys the excuse as she shoots him a knowing smirk, but the others seem to at least don’t care about him leaving - suspiciously right after her- only mumbling their goodbyes as their attention remains in the movie.

When he opens the door to the bathroom, which is only a few feet away from the tv room, he’s greeted with a pair of lips crashing against his. Responding right away to the kiss, he kicks the door shut behind him and wraps his arms around her as he relishes the feel of her hands exploring his whole body, grabbing his muscles and flesh. Good, she’s as excited as him.

“That was fucking hot,” she says through the kiss, pulling a handful of his hair.

“Agreed,” he pants, not parting his lips from hers, “Check out how happy I was to find you here,” he grabs her hand and places it over his throbbing hard on.

She chuckles as he walks her backwards to the counter, “I’m glad I accepted Nat’s invitation to see a movie with her after dinner, then,” she pulls away just enough to say that before launching back on him, making him moan as she palms him through his jeans. “We need to do something about it, now,” she teases, parting her lips from his to drag them down his neck, adding a bit more of pressure on his cock.

“Damn straight,” he manages to say, as her mouth and her hands on him make him light in the head. Desperate to feel her, he grabs her by the waist and places her on the countertop and positions himself between her legs, reaching down to unbutton his jeans, “How was your first day as the boss?” Just the thought is enough to make his cock twitch inside the annoying confines of his pants.

“Fucking fantastic,” she answers putting a stopping hand on his chest and grabbing the one on his jeans by the pulse.

“Hey,” an embarrassing whine slips out of his lips.

“Nah-ah,” she smirks in such a mischievous way that the sight alone could result in him making a mess of his pants if he didn’t focus, “I’ve got my own tricks, too, you know?” she coos, pushing him a bit backwards before sliding down from the counter and sinking to her knees right in front of him.

Oh…

Since she just ended the possibility of any coherent thought to be formed on his mind, all there’s left for him is to let his arms fall limp on each side of his body and watch her, dumbfounded and horny as ever, as she nuzzless his dick through the jeans and swiftly work on his buttons and zipper.

His cock bobs in front of her as she pulls down his pants and underwear just enough to expose it to her. Bucky is entranced by the sight of her licking her lips before leaning over and slowly sliding her flattened tongue over the length of the prominent vein on the underside of his cock. Then his tip is engulfed by the wet and soft heat of her mouth and a strangled yet loud noise slips out of his lungs as his eyelids flutter.

“Be quiet, sweetheart,” she pulls back, making him already miss her lips around his dick. He looks down at her and she shoots a cheeky wink at him, wrapping her hand around the base and peppering sweet, torturous kisses over his length and head, smearing the leaking precum over her lips before wrapping them around him again.

Bucky is in a complete daze as she works her lips and tongue beautifully on him, producing sloppy and enticing sounds. Surprisingly enough, after trying a lot of stuff together, that particular act hadn’t happened yet and goddammit why the hell had he waited for so long? Maybe because he’s been focusing completely on her pleasure, which can’t be considered an unselfish act at all, since giving her pleasure is insanely hot, making him get off on that easily. But, man… that woman knows what she’s doing and it’s driving him completely nuts right now.

Especially as she keeps jerking him with her hand while her lips adventures down his sack. All he sees is the top of her head moving as she is shamelessly licking and sucking his balls, the slurping sounds of her mouth on him makes his cock jerk in her hand. Bucky can’t hold back the moans and his hands grip tightly the counter before him, the blood rushing away from his fingers with the force he uses.

Her lips come back to suck on his dick, hollowing her cheeks as her other hand grabs a handful of his butt. She squeezes the flesh harshly and grunts around his dick.

“Fuck,” Bucky lets out in a breathless whisper, barely holding together as the vibrations reverberates through his pulsing cock, wrapped in her heat. He’s not gonna last long, he knows that.

With a pop, she releases his cock from her mouth, but keeps her hand wrapped and moving up and down his length. Bucky would’ve protested if he could form one coherent word, “Bucky,” she purrs, brushing her cheek on his cock, as if she’s worshiping it. He feels himself tighter and tighter, rushing to the edge, and that sight is no help for him trying to hold back and prolong the little heaven he’s in, “I want you to fuck my mouth, Bucky.”

That’s it. He always knew that after more than one hundred years he would die in a situation like that, “What?” he breathes out and it sounds like a groan as he clenches his teeth.

“I want you to fuck my face and I want to taste you, all of you, understand?” Her words sound more like a command as she looks up at him and lazily fists his cock, coated in her saliva.

“Copy that, ma’am,” he quickly obeys, capturing his lower lip in a tight bite, “But if it’s too much you have to let me know, ok? Stop me, punch me in the stomach, if you have to.” As desperate as he is to do as she wants and fuck that pretty little face of hers, the last thing he wants is to hurt her in any way. But they’ve been pretty comfortable with each other to let the other know exactly what they want to do or not, so he doesn’t have to worry much about it.

She smirks and nods before brushing the tip of her tongue over the tip of his cock.

Fuck… she’s perfect.

More than happy to comply with her command, Bucky grips the hair on the back of her head as she invitingly opens her mouth to welcome him, letting her hands rest on her thighs.

He pushes back inside her. He goes slow at first, but goes deep, testing her limits. His breath hitches as he watches his cock disappearing inside her mouth, and oh, man… his head reaches her throat and he hears a strangled moan out of her as she chokes lightly on it…

He fucking loses it.

Bucky does exactly what she asked for and fucks her mouth, holding her face steady with one hand on her hair as with the other he grips the counter as he thrusts inside her, moving her head as he pleases, guiding himself by the muffled but sweet sounds she makes along with him. He goes deep, fast…

He locks eyes with her and sees the sheer lust on them as her swollen lips take his cock, saliva sliding down her chin, “Take that cock, sweetheart. You look fucking beautiful taking it like that.”

The fluttering of her eyes at his words is what takes him on the edge of his climax, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he warns, his voice a strange rasped sound in his ears, “You want that, don’t you? You want my fucking cum deep down your throat, right, beautiful?”

Her answer is to bring both hands to grip harshly his butt and pull him even deeper into her. The tightness coiling inside him is too much before he reaches the best damn orgasm of his life.

A dangerously loud grunt of him resounds around the small bathroom as he spills his climax deep down her mouth and throat, just like he’s promised. The world around him dissolves into the image of her swallowing around him, taking all of him. He’s body falls a bit forward and he has to tighten the hold on the counter as fingers tangle around her locks.

He remains under the effect of the powerful and insanely pleasurable sensation, the aftershocks jerking his body and turning his mind into a total blankness as she slowly and gently sucks and licks him clean, making little humming sounds that only add to his utter state of bliss.

When he feels his strength rushing back to his limbs again, he moves his hand from her hair and helps her up by the arm and without thinking twice slams his lips to hers.

Her inherent sweetness immediately mixes with his own taste, invading his senses and damn if he doesn’t wanna feel that again and again and again… He swirls his tongue around hers, loving how her arms curl around his neck, like they usually do when he kisses her.

Bucky doesn’t notice he’s been prolonging the kiss for maybe a little too long and maybe a little too intensely until she lets out a muffled giggle through his lips and taps lightly on his shoulder.

He parts away immediately, but doesn’t completely let her go, keeping her close by the waist, only then realizing how breathless he is. Both of them, actually as he notices how deep and fast the up and down of her chest is. But she’s smiling… and that alone makes Bucky smile, too.

She looks thoroughly fucked. Her hair is a complete mess, eyes a bit reddened and teary while her lips are swollen tinted in a darker shade and from taking his cock that hard. He simply can’t move his gaze away while she holds the smile, looking… content…happy…

Right there, just like that, completely undone and disheveled, she’s the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

He’s not even thinking straight yet when he reaches over and cups her cheek. Spotting a drop of his own pleasure that slipped from the corner of her mouth, he swipes it with his thumb and brings it to her lips, entranced by the way she welcomes it right away, swirling her tongue around his finger before sucking it inside her mouth while her eyes are stuck on his.

His heart skips a beat at the sight. There’s an urge rising in him. A whole new kind of urge he hasn’t ever felt before and he can’t pinpoint exactly what that desperate need is for while she lets go of his thumb before placing a kiss on it and moves her back to him, to face the mirror and put herself together, depriving his arms from her warmth.

He just can’t take his eyes off of her and all he wants is to grab her back and hold her close to him, to feel her skin, smell the sweet scent of her shampoo, listen to her sweet voice in his ears telling him all about her day while she softly runs her fingers through his hair…

Wait… he forces himself to interrupt his own weird line of thoughts.

What the hell is happening?

~~~

Chapter 6 coming soon.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes series #marvel fanfiction

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blysse-and-blunder · 3 years

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in lieu of making any progress on the end of the semester

9:30pm, sunday, dec 5, 2021

i swear i spend so much time thinking about what to say in these and i get very excited to spill all my thoughts and secrets, and then completely run out of time every week. i'm doing this instead of other Necessary and More Important things bc i simply cannot skip again, i have to get this stuff off my chest and close the tabs so here we go...!

reading since the last one of these i wrote, i've finished the book of three by lloyd alexander, all systems red by martha wells, and have tried *so* *hard* to finish the sunne in splendour by sharon kay penman. quick thoughts here include how much the book of three reminded me of narnia in that mid-century, post-war jolly uk children's fantasy, though of course i did enjoy the welsh dimension. fascinating to think about alexander's decision to use gwydion as he does, fascinating to know more about the actual stories and some of the names being played on than i would have if i'd read this as a youth--i wonder how hard it would have been to shake my first impressions of some of these characters if i'd come to this first, rather than the actual PKM? e.g. Arawn, who is much spookier in this book than in pwyll.

my murderbot take is going to disappoint the murberbot fans in the audience because i really zoomed through this first novella, listening to the audiobook, which-- i don't know that this novella worked for me as an audio book! the sci-fi terms and jargon, which is so satisfyingly done in general, was hard to parse and a lot of the world-building was hard to keep track of only listening (and i could rewind to relisten to parts when needed, but i was also lazy). but on the other hand, having a real live voice to bring murderbot itself to life was sort of perfect, given its own ruminations on being a sec unit and what that means re: personhood. it shaped my understanding of the character, sure, but in a way that immediately reinforced all of the empathy i already felt building for this narrator. the only things i have to say about the sunne in splendour are that a) this is clearly not shakespeare's richard iii and i can accept that, finally, b) i really want to know how penman's suggestion of the actual culprit behind the princes in the tower mystery stacks up against the other historical theories out there, and c) all the good things i might say about the experience of reading this book pall before how bloody long it's taken me. i would like to be over now.

watching continued with succession by finishing season 1 and watching the first to episodes of season 2. i spend a lot of this show talking back to the characters, telling them "i don't...think that's true?" when they say things to each other, and avoiding watching decisions that lead to inevitable second-hand embarrassment. currently convinced that kendall is dissociating most of the time, shiv and logan are going to turn on each other asap, corporate espionage and verbal abuse are just love languages for these people. greg is going to be the nhs/sleeper mastermind somehow, i say not having avoided spoilers all that well but having mostly avoided spoilers, and tom is manages to combine being so incredibly self-conscious and also so un self-aware? it's mesmerizing but sometimes i can't actually watch.

also started watching prime's wheel of time, which is a good time since i've read the first three +/- books, ages ago, but don't remember much at all, and so am really well-positioned to have vaguely fond reminiscences stirred up while simultaneously not giving much of a shit at whatever they've changed. i'd like to take this magic system apart with a really fine-toothed comb and rewrite/reinvent everything about it that smacks of gender essentialism, i'd like to queer and/or trans the one power's genders, but mainly as i watch right now i like seeing the pretty people in the pretty landscapes. this show's aesthetic is the opposite of grim-dark, they've turned up the color-saturation and it's just...fun. lan and moiraine are very attractive and their whole Thing is very attractive; it's the intimacy and devotion for me. haven't seen episode 5 yet but excited to keep up.

i finally finished word of honor but this is a long-ass post already so the hot-takes are: my interest in this ended up being solely based on the charisma of individual actors' performances, and in that, i really enjoyed it. shout-out to gong jun and everything he brought to this. put your leading men in eye-shadow, say i! let them be a little feral!

listening bouncing around through lots of different musical tones and styles lately, but the noteworthy stuff of the last week or so was me introducing myself to sunday in the park with george, in order to better appreciate sondheim, and also dipping my toe into patti smith's oeuvre. it's been a time.

youtube

playing (and also a bit more listening here) i don't know what level of stress and/or burn-out leads you to getting completely distracted by once-beloved classical music, but i hit it on thursday this week. i stumbled, delighted, onto the fact that the new york philharmonic has scanned and uploaded a bunch of scores to their digital archives, and it was a sudden rush to realize that i had the house to myself and could use the scan of the flute I/II-piccolo parts to play along with a recording of aaron copland's appalachian spring. the recording i was listening to, aurora orchestra, helpfully split it up into the separate dances, which made it easier to follow along in the score--and it turns out, the piece was scored for a 13-piece ballet pit orchestra at first anyway. while i personally do like it from a full orchestra, lush and shimmery, and prefer to treat it as a tone poem without a definite narrative (landscapes/abstract imagery a la fantasia is what i've always heard in it, rather than specific characters), it does dance. those time signature changes are a nightmare, but i feel mostly fond and satisfied by their quirks and misdirections after having just listened to the piece for years, and it was a rush to see them in print for the first time.

https://archives.nyphil.org/index.php/artifact/294a07e6-51fe-41e7-9543-5160b7443296-0.1/fullview#page/1/mode/2up

to my absolute delight, the music librarians apparently do not erase previous musicians' marks in this archive-- breaths, counting, the proof of other hands on these pages. on the last few lines of the flute ii part, there are a series of notes from previous players, the first one mostly scribbled out but still recognizable as some form of 'god help us all', with subsequent notes from the 1970s and 80s with later players agreeing or disagreeing (because of the counting? lol), and...god. loved to stumble on that. between that and getting to try my hand at the solo bits, and experience even this distantly the way those chords come together, sweet never saccharine, occasionally ecstatic but always sincere-- it really salvaged that afternoon.

making yardwork, mostly. is that generative, or just maintenance? it was cathartic, anyway. began to snow just as i was finishing.

working on i'm going to have to submit this diss proposal without written feedback from a couple of these clowns, won't i. fuck.

#in lieu of a commonplace book #ilcb #*slaps the side of this post* this baby can fit so much stream of consciousness in it #weekly roundup

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jicklet · 3 years

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Ted Lasso 2.03 Thoughts

I watched it once last night, these are my idle thoughts after that first impression.

First off: I can see why they meant for this to be the end of a 3-parter!

WE FINALLY MEET NORA. ♥ Of course this is the child someone like Sassy would raise. And of course she's still horribly embarrassed by her mother, despite how cool everyone else thinks Sassy is.

Fascinated by the duality of Sassy, we see her in her off hours, but professionally she's off giving brilliant child psychologist talks at conferences.

(What must it be like to grow up with a child psychologist as a mother? Pros and cons, I imagine.)

QUESTIONS: Rebecca knows Ted and Sassy slept together, everyone present seems to know that she knows. How did this go down.

My favorite scenario: After Rebecca apologized to Ted for hiring him to fail, the next morning over biscuits he blurts it out, not wanting to hide anything from her after she was honest with him. And she cuts him off with "Ted, I already know, Sassy texted me pretty much immediately the morning after." "Oh! Cool. Coolcool." "Yeah she said she had a very nice breakfast." "Oh good!" [super awkward pause] [Ted jumps out of his chair like it's on fire] "ANYWAYS" "YEP GOOD TALK"

(Yes I like this both for Keeley/Roy parallels and because it sounds hilarious)

REBECCA AND ROY, YESSS. They just have such a a great similar vibe, glad we're getting more of them. Nice mutual respect there. Liked the distinction that No, she didn't break up with John just because Roy said she should, but because what he pointed out was right.

We spend so much time with them just being people that I forget that all our characters are technically celebrities, so Nora coming in was really fun in that respect. Her just 0__0 over Sam. Girl same.

Jamie coming in to talk to Keeley because she's the only one (besides Ted, who he's putting on a brave face for) who's ever listened to him...... and her just, dragging him silently across the entire club and depositing him on Dr. Sharon. 😂 Yeahhh Keeley set up boundaries! Similar to her pointing him towards Ted last ep.

She does care about him but she is Not going to be his personal therapist, especially when there is a perfectly fantastic one in the house. If they're going to be friends, be friends, but don't just seek her out when you want something. If anyone is still afraid they'd put these two back together, I'm pretty damn sure they're not. Jamie currently doesn't have anything to offer her.

Keeley has her own office now!! (even though she crashes Rebecca's sometimes.) Shoutout to the giant Roy decal on the wall across from her desk. Love it.

Brief but beautiful check in with Roy confirming he's continued with the pundit job. "Tell us how you really feel, Roy!" "Okay, you're a shit manager." "Not about me!" hahahahahaaaa suck it.

And Sam............ God, this was SUCH a knockout episode for Sam. You know what I appreciate? How they let him be annoyed at Jamie. Sam got a little petty on the pitch! That's not a side of him we've seen before. He's not just sweet Sam who doesn't push back, he's tired of that dude's shit.

Especially with the rest of the team having his back.

They've all bonded! Oof, the contrast between everyone lovingly razzing him over his photoshoot, and Jamie jumping in like Oh I know this game! But he doesn't. You haven't earned the right to play yet.

Oh man when Sam got so excited to share with his parents that he did something great for them... Only for him to run into his dad's disappointment instead! ouch. That hurt.

The insidiousness of how DubaiAir SPECIFICALLY REQUESTED SAM... They knew what they were doing. And when Sam brought up that he wanted to drop out.... I think Keeley and Rebecca were realizing that, they look so horrified. Both of them had just been so excited Sam was getting recognition...

Anyways. Sam with the press, how amazing was he? Immediately taking charge of the narrative. I hope how nice he's been to the press in the past (like at the gala) helps him out here.

And of course Jamie: It had to be something this big to actually get Sam on the road to being cool with him. Not only did he step up to take on the risk alongside Sam, it was him finally saying "I'm not better than you, we're on the same team."

Speaking of what they know they're risking... Rebecca and the rest were just talking about the finances of the club have dropped after relegation, and now they've essentially told their main sponsor to take a hike. I don't want to lose any of our boys, but we'll see what happens with that.

oh man i completely forgot about Led Tasso. I'm sorry I know a lot of you loved it but I was peeking out from behind my blanket with something in the neighborhood of stress and secondhand embarrassment. Just not my cup of tea! The dark glasses were a very nice touch though, as a change from Ted's regular orange ones.

Next week... IT CRISMAS. YESSSS

Look I just rewatched You've Got Mail...... The setup for Ted and Rebecca to unknowingly meet on that dating app is so perfect, please. I wonder how they'd make it a curveball though... I'm thinkin.

OH. HOW THE TEAM WAS CELEBRATING BECAUSE THEY BROKE THEIR STRING OF TIES (WITH.... A LOSS.) I just love them.

I feel like that tumblr post where people are like "IT'S HALLOWEEN" "IT'S JULY"

#Ted lasso spoilers #Ted lasso #V watches Ted lasso #V watches #Today was so long this all just ping ponged through my head all day

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adaodinson · 3 years

Text

Wrong place, wrong time

Finally, here’s the second part, it’s a bit short but I think it’s not so terrible. I hope you guys enjoy it. I’m sorry it took a while for me to post it but I wasn’t getting any inspiration. I honestly hope this is good.

Here’s Part 1

Summary: You needed to get in, seal the deal and get out. That would have been easy if a certain group of three men hadn´t been making business with Selby at the same time as you were.

Relationships: (different endings, you’ll choose) Bucky x reader, Sam x reader, Zemo x reader.

Warnings: Mentions of death and past trauma.

Part 2

You rolled and twisted all night. You didn´t get one hour of sleep and Sharon was already hurrying everybody into leaving.

You would go with the guys after visiting the man that had recreated the serum, so you staying in Sharon´s apartment wasn´t an option. You wanted to argue, knowing you would only be a load, but Sam and Bucky guaranteed you would be fine, that they would protect you, so to not cause any more trouble, you agreed.

You walked as a group between the containers until Sharon found the one you were headed to. It was empty, but your love for movies and secret doors forced you to look for an entrance, and just as you were about to give up, you found it. You pushed the wall reveling a hidden door and walked through it. You were too intrigued to look behind you and catch the surprised faces Sam, Bucky and Zemo had.

-And she thought she was gonna be a load- Zemo laughed, and as much as Bucky and Sam wanted to roll their eyes at Zemo, they found themselves nodding and even chuckling in agreement.

You shortly remembered you had no way of defending yourself, so you quickly turned around and Bucky seemed to catch your thought, because he placed his hand on your back, gave you a reassuring nod and sent you to walk behind him, covering you protectively.

It was hard not to admire the metal-armed guy. Just by his actions it was pretty clear he had been through a lot, and that he wanted nothing more than to help. You knew a bit about the Avengers, only what you had seen in the news occasionally, but you didn´t know much about any of your traveling companions, only what they had told you so far.

Zemo and Sam were following closely behind you, and they too couldn´t help but admire the view they found in front of them. Sam, since Selby died, refused to let you get involved in more issues, which is why he didn´t immediately react and helped you when you were escaping, but now that you were practically stuck with them, he couldn´t help but thank Zemo for helping you, not out loud, of course. Zemo, on the other hand, had many mixed feelings. He had felt the need to protect you since he saw you, he almost laughed at how out of place you seemed when in Selby´s office. He couldn´t deny the growing feeling of wanting to know everything about you, but it was hard; he knew his wife would have wanted him to be happy and move on, but he was sure that, giving the circumstances, he had no chance with you.

As you got closer to your target, you heard the guy singing along a song you knew. It was hard to fight the impulse of singing as well, but you weren´t going to compromise the whole mission just to get a few seconds of one of the things you enjoyed doing the most.

Before they called the scientist out, Sam led you to a corner and asked you to stay there, he didn´t want to put you at risk. You silently obeyed.

The following events happened way too fast. Sharon warned the guys that the bounty hunters were outside; the guys got information from the scientist but lost whatever other thing he could say because Zemo shot him as Sharon arrived. You were in shock. You had never seen anyone die before, not like that, and it hurt Zemo deeply. Knowing he had to do that with you there, he hated himself for causing such hurt in you, but it had been necessary. You didn´t want to understand, you didn´t want to think about it, or talk about it. You were sure Zemo had his reasons, you didn´t justify him, at all, but you didn´t want to ask.

An explosion followed the events, and if Sam hadn´t gone back for you, you wouldn´t have heard Bucky calling your name because of the high pulsating sound that you had in your ears as a result from the explosion. Sam threw his arm around your waist and guided you out. The warm feeling of his body helped a little bit, you were more focused and the sounds returned to you.

Bucky and Sam were arguing about god knows what when you saw him. Zemo was wearing a purple mask (that you would have found insanely hot if he hadn´t just shot a guy). He was racing on top of the containers, and in agile and fast movements he knocked three guys and caused an explosion (you didn´t see how) that got rid of the other ones.

It was Bucky´s turn to grab your hand and lead you to a container, where Sam, Sharon, Bucky and you hid until you heard a roar and wheels squealing. You walked outside with a puzzled gaze, and you couldn´t help the laughter that came out from you as you saw Zemo in a beautiful, shining car.

-Fully charged- he said with a huge smirk as he winked at you. You giggled like a schoolgirl and hoped no one had noticed the redness in your cheeks. You headed for the front seat, and from the inside Zemo opened the door for you. Sharon said goodbye and walked away.

-I apologize, it wasn´t my intention for you to see that- Zemo said softly and with a truthfully regretful face. He was talking about him shooting the doctor.

-Look, I won´t say I understand, but again, I know nothing about what´s going on so I´m not gonna judge you. I might be a complete pacifist, but I can understand we all have our reasons to do what we do, and, well, you are consistent in your words and actions-.

Sam and Bucky were fighting about who would take which place, but as they heard the conversation going on between you and the Baron, they both stopped to listen. Zemo looked at you, waiting for you to elaborate.

-What I mean is, you said you believe the serum needs to be destroyed, so ending the person that knew how to recreate it seems like a step for that- Zemo was left speechless. You made it clear you didn´t agree or approve of what he did, but you were still saying you tried to understand, and you recognized you weren´t one to judge him. Each time you opened your mouth, the three were stunned. For a moment, Bucky told himself you would be an ideal person to talk to about everything he had gone through, if you tried to understand Zemo, maybe you would be able to help him to stop seeing himself as a monster, but he quickly scolded himself for having that thought, remembering he knew you from less than two days.

You were now inside Zemo´s jet. To say you were impressed was a complete understatement. You had never seen such luxury, and your three new friends find it insanely cute how you got excited over a fancy glass of champagne, and how much you praised Oeznik for the wine he offered.

Shortly after, you were all at Riga. Bucky excused himself and went for a walk, and Zemo showed the safehouse you would be staying at. It was small, but still managed to be fancier than all the houses you had ever lived in. It was cozy and you had a room of your own, thing that you appreciated. You wouldn´t have been able to keep your composure if having to sleep next to any of the guys.

-Here, I sent Oeznik to buy some clothes for you- Zemo handed you three huge bags filled with what seemed to be comfortable and fashionable clothes.

-Wait, what? Oh you didn´t have to, here I´ll pay you for them and please, where´s Oeznik? I need to thank him as well…-Zemo didn´t let you continue.

-Hey, these are on me, and you can thank Oeznik tomorrow, he´s staying somewhere else, for his safety-. You would have argued and even tried to force Zemo to grab the money you were offering, but something on his eyes said he needed to do this for you, so instead, you hugged him.

His body felt still and hard at first, but he slowly dropped the bags he was carrying and complied. You quickly separated and headed for your room in order to change.

Once you had a fresh set of clothes, Sam and you decided to make something to eat. Pasta pesto was what you decided to make. While the pasta was cooking and after the sauce was done, you couldn´t help put cover your finger in oil and splatter it in Sam´s face. He looked at you in shock and you immediately regretted the action, feeling completely embarrassed, but before you knew, he acted.

-Oh, hell no!- he said as he smashed an egg against your head. You laughed out loud and continued looking for things to throw at him. This escalated to the point in which Zemo, that was siting calmly across the room, ended covered in flour (no, he didn´t participate in the food fight), and when Bucky arrived he could only see two children playing behind the counter.

-Guys- Bucky announced, calling you and Sam´s attention and stopping your giggles.

-The Dora Milaje are after Zemo, I managed to get you some more hours, but they aren´t happy-.

-Thank you for defending me, James- Zemo said with a smirk and Bucky just responded with a gruff.

-Wait, who are those? What will they do to Zemo?- You asked as you cleaned the cinnamon that covered your arm.

-They are Wakandan warriors, implacable ones, and they want to take Zemo back to prison- Your heart sank at the idea of not seeing him again. You looked at him with obvious sadness in your face.

-But you can stop them right? They won´t take him?- Your heartbroken voice shattered all three man, but they weren´t gonna lie to you.

-I can´t do anything, they have the right to imprison him, and nothing I do or say will change that- Bucky finished. Zemo turned to you and gave you a reassuring smile. You read his lips saying I´ll be fine, but you didin´t want to say goodbye, to any of them, why did you have to?

Taglist:

@bry-97

#tfatws #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson x reader #helmut zemo x reader #james buchanan barnes #sam wilson #hemlut zemo #zemo #fan fiction #mcu #mcu x reader #marvel #marvel x y/n #bucky barnes #sam wilson imagine #helmut zemo fanfiction

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heathenarmyimagines · 3 years

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Title: Find Us

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Summary: Ivar’s family have a very peculiar lunch guest.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight

Taglist: @ubbesgirl, @shewolf2000, @tis-itheapplepie, @atequila, @demoncrypt1066, @greennightspider, @badbitsh13, @fireismysaftey, @minarawr, @laketaj24, @hvitserksgirl, @blahblahcookiesdoma, @fabulous-peasent, @sforsammmmmi, @minmiin1d, @courtrae89, @letsloveimagines, @tomarisela, @titty-teetee, @beyond-the-ashes@elenawrit, @mblaqgi, @whenimaunicorn, @chuflisworld, @mystruggledlife, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @syreni-dea, @trashqueenbitch, @alykatv, @mbaku-babygirl, @perfectus-in-morte, @beyond-the-ashes, @neeadinghugs, @readsalot73, @triumphantreturnofpies, @anarchy-is-coming, @tephi101, @alicedopey, @ivarslittlebadgirl, @jtrstp, @nejijjeoroo, @charlylama, @ivartheblessed, @captstefanbrandt, @fabulouschrissi, @ivarsrideordie, @3x5gurl, @the-writer-appreciation-blog, @lolabee9, @captainfoxy22, @young-ugly-god, @im5ftbutmythroat66, @bribyyy, @irishhiggins, @cadetomlinson, @keclleon101, @slutforragnarssons, @ltkeke, @meeeeeeeeeps, @lille-kanin, @opalscarab, @ssraven7, @ivarandersen, @concretewaywardangel, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @sharon-is-tired, @cadetomlinson, @mystruggledlife, @chuflisworld, @justmarissa97, @lol-haha-joke, @weirdly-randomly-awesome, @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanim, @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers, @alexa040004, @buckythetinman , @burntmythroatskullingmytea,@jorunnravenslayer, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @buffy-the-vampire-blogger, @arses21434, @ltkeke, @captainfoxy22, @chinduda @letsshamelessqueen-m @my-soul-is-the-moon @we-are-transcendent

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six,Part Seven, Part Eight

Ivar arrived home with a little over an hour to spare.

He was happy to say his legs were no longer burning in hot flames of pain and had died down to the usual dull simmering pain that he was used to dealing with.

As he walked to the stairs he took a moment to be childish and flick off the elevator.

He took a shower and for whatever reason his mind started to wonder, thinking about the series of unfortunate events that occurred last night.

The thought of himself being the great Viking king that his mother named him after was still too outlandish for him to think about. The splitting headache and nosebleed did little to encourage him to think about it.

So his mind moved on.

He thought of (Y/N), the way she accepted his legs, she didn’t immediately get that stupid look of pity or false empathy. No her eyes didn’t soften, nothing had changed in her eyes. She still saw him as she had before, and he was very happy for that.

Being in the family he came from he couldn’t find many friends, not any real ones anyway. His brothers could handle having friends who were drawn to the money and fame, but Ivar couldn’t stand people like that. He couldn’t explain it too well, but he could always see it, the hungry way people looked at him.

Like he was a walking ATM and if they could just get close enough to him then the money would never stop flowing.

All of them had the mutual understanding that none of the Ragnarson children ever wanted to be pushed into the public eye. No magazine articles or press interviews, but still they were hard not to recognize if only for the way their mother seemed to flaunt their wealth around.

(Y/N) had never seen the designer clothes his mother dressed him in or heard about out of country trips he had been dragged on.

Her eyes weren’t hungry, and he liked that.

Ivar liked to be around her, he liked the conversation with her and the way she never asked for favors, anything he did for her was his own choice and it always would be.

(Y/N).

His mind wandered to her in the car, when his nose had bled. With no hesitation she gave him the very shirt off her back. That thought made him think about her sitting in his passenger seat, topless and blushing. The way her face became an ungodly red when he had stupidly invaded her personal space.

Then it all went south, his mind decided to be treacherous and focus on that moment before the cop knocked on the window.

Ivar immediately shook his head and wrapped up his shower, if he set the water to ice cold for a few seconds then he’d never admit it.

Deciding to shut up his mind Ivar put in his earbuds and blasted his music while he got dressed, he walked past his real closet full of clothes he had picked up in shops and went to his second one.

The one his mother filled with brands that “people of their status” should be wearing, he picked up a suit without giving it a glance before he started putting it on with practiced ease.

As he was tying back his hair Hvitserk barged in the room, in a suit of his own.

‘Looking spiffy, bet (Y/N) would have loved to see it.’ his brother smiled as he sat on the bed.

‘Shut up.’ Ivar rolled his eyes as he took out his earbuds.

‘What did you wear to see her last night? Birthday suit?’ Hvitserk teased.

‘I said shut up, some people can be friends with girls and not have sex with them.’ Ivar sassed.

‘Of course they can, that just doesn’t seem to be the case for you Ivy.’

‘Don’t call me that.’

‘So you’re going to tell me that you...Ivar Hogh Ragnarson, got up in the middle of the night to meet a girl and nothing scandalous happened.’

‘Yes, nothing happened.’ Ivar said tiredly.

‘Well I don’t believe that for a second, why did you go out in the first place?’ Hvitserk asked.

‘I’m not going to keep talking about this, can we please just get downstairs before Mother comes looking for us.’ Ivar deflected.

Hvitserk rolled his eyes but he did sigh and got up, meaning that for now at least the subject was dropped.

The two of them headed downstairs to the dining area. As expected the table was covered in large expensive dishes, and of course none of it had been prepared by their mother.

The cook had truly outdone herself today, Ivar new his father must have given her quite a bonus for this feast.

At the head of the table was his father and his mother was sat in the seat on his right, both dressed in expensive brands.

Ubbe and Sigurd still hadn’t come down yet, but Ivar and Hvitserk took their seats across from each other.

‘Ivar...I heard the elevator. Are you feeling well?’ Ivar asked.

‘Yes I am fine, I just woke up in the odd hours where my medicine wasn’t as effective as usual. So I went out for a drive while it kicked in.’ he said casually.

‘You went driving?’ his mother asked.

‘Yes, not too far, I was safe I promise.’ he soothed.

His mother bit at her lip and looked away before she took a sip from her wine glass, she always drank when she worried.

She was always worrying.

Thankfully before the silence could become awkward the two missing brothers came down and took their places at the table.

‘Boys, this lunch is with a very important client, one of my first clients when I started out and he brought me a lot of business by nothing but word of mouth. He is usually quiet and very much so a shut in, and he comes from old money.’

‘If he is a shut in why did he suddenly ask to have lunch?’ Ubbe asked.

‘No idea, but I couldn’t decline. Now, I know you all know how to behave in front of clients, but this client is completely blind so be sensitive to that. Do not mention it, do you all understand?’ his father asked.

Everyone agreed and the conversation moved to lighter things like school and stocks and what summer plans were in consideration. It was all idle chit chat to pass the time while they waited for their guest.

At long last their loud dramatic doorbell rang and one of the housekeepers led in a man using a white cane.

The man was very tall, and that was impressive considering the fact that Ivar was the shortest Ragnarson while standing at exactly six foot.

He had to be at least seven feet, his black suit was clearly custom tailored to his body in a way that made it hard to tell if his suit was filled out by fat or pure muscle. His eyes and forehead were completely hidden behind the largest pair of reflective sunglasses Ivar had ever seen.

His skin was as pale porcelain, it was very oddly accompanied by the most visible light blue veins beneath his flesh and the black lipstick that was smeared over his almost fish like lips.

‘Hello Ragnar.’ the man said, his voice large and raspy as he had been smoking since he could walk.

‘Hello old man.’ Ragnar said happily.

‘I’m as old as I’ll ever be and as young as I can be now.’ the man said.

‘There goes that wise man way of speaking you are so famous for.’ the father smiled happily.

‘And there is the smile you are famous for.’

‘You can see me smiling?’ Ragnar teased.

‘My eyes see nothing, but I see all...that is my curse.’ the man said as he took his seat.

The whole table was silent, not even his father, the great conversationalist that he was, could make light of such a cryptic thing.

‘Don’t be so tense, introduce me to your family so we can eat this delightful feast.’

‘Of course, family meet my great client Mr. Divine. This is my wife Aslaug, my boys that I’m always talking about; Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd and Ivar.’

‘You are missing two...a boy and a girl…a poor sick girl no one here but you ever got to see.’

Ivar was stunned, and judging by the almost loud silence his family members were in the same state.

His father didn’t speak of his only daughter, the girl that died long before he had been born. From what he had been told his half sister Gida had caught a horrible case of influenza and she just didn’t have a strong enough immune system.

No matter how he tried he couldn’t imagine his father talking about Gida with a client, no matter how important.

‘Yes...we should enjoy the feast.’ Ragnar said, not as cheerful as he had been before.

At last the lunch finally began and while it took a minute the conversation did pick up. Despite that Ivar couldn’t shake this sick feeling.

The feeling he had at the restaurant when (Y/N)’s mother was talking about her findings, like his entire body was covered in ants. He was still polite to the guest, but he just couldn’t look at this man for more than a few seconds.

For such a large spread the actual lunch passed rather quickly, and eventually no one could eat another bite.

‘This was a fine lunch, but I do have several appointments lined up so I must be going.

All of a sudden Ivar couldn’t control himself, there was a question he needed to ask before this man left.

‘Mr. Divine? Is that your given name?’

‘Ivar.’ Ragnar warned.

His ears suddenly burned red in embarrassment at his rude outburst.

‘No need to worry Ragnar, with youth comes curiosity and recklessness. Walk me to the door boy.’ Mr. Divine said to him.

Ivar looked at his father and after he received an approving nod he stood and walked around to the other side of the table.

Mr. Divine stood as well and pushed back his chair from the table, he used his cane to get around the table.

Ivar didn’t move to guide him, partially not wanting to startle him but mostly knowing instinctively that this man wouldn’t appreciate him assuming he needed help.

The two walked out of the dining room and made their way to the door.

‘Do you remember me?’

Ivar looked at the man in confusion.

‘Have I met you before? I think I’d remember if I had, you do leave an impression if I must say.’ Ivar replied politely.

‘We have before, just not in this life.’ Mr Divine said as he stopped walking and took off his humongous sunglasses.

Ivar’s heart dropped so quickly into his stomach as if it had suddenly been turned to lead in his chest, his palms were nearly spraying out sweat and he felt like his body was turning into stone.

Mr. Divine didn’t have eyes.

Not empty sockets he could fill with glass prosthetic ones, but there was nothing but skin covering the place where eyes should have been.

“No eyes…” (Y/N)’s voice rang in his mind.

This was him, it had to be; the one who spoke to her directly.

‘I see you don’t recall me personally, but you are aware of me thanks to the Christian child.’ he said as he moved closer to Ivar.

‘You are the one who talks to her...how are you here, those dreams happened centuries ago?’ Ivar asked in complete shock.

‘Not dreams...you know they are more than that don’t you...Boneless one.’

This time Ivar outright flinched at his words.

‘I-I’m not-’

‘You are; run from it and deny it all you like but the fact remains you are and the faster you embrace it the better off everyone you care about will be.’ Mr. Divine said gravely as he put on his glasses once again.

‘I-’ Ivar didn’t know what he had meant to say but it didn’t matter, because the blind man had already walked away.

‘Long long years I have roamed this horrible world and I will continue until you accept the truth. I pray to all the Gods that you do not make the same selfish mistakes again, there are too many people at stake.’ Mr. Divine said before he left, closing the door behind him.

Never before had Ivar felt such an odd feeling, but the one thing that mattered was that he didn’t like the feeling at all.

He didn’t like the man’s eyeless, black lipped face and he liked his words even less than that.

Ivar didn’t know who this man was or how he was here but he knew that if he never saw that blind bastard again he would have no complaints. All he had done was say stupid things that didn’t answer his questions and left more confused than he was before.

Selfish.

Ivar wasn’t selfish at all, he donated a majority of his monthly allowance to multiple charities and whatever he had left he gave away to the homeless or beggars he saw on the streets.

Angrier than he had been in quite some time he gritted his teeth and walked back into the dining room.

The maids were cleaning the table while the others were still there talking about the lunch they had just had.

‘So you are telling people about her now Ragnar? You rarely speak of Gida even to me, he must be a very good friend.’ Aslaug said politely, but everyone knew it was anything but.

Ivar didn’t bother sitting back down and instead made his way back to his room, he heard his brothers coming up behind him on the stairs.

‘I honestly don’t understand why they have to fight all the time, don’t they get tired?’ Hvitserk sighed.

‘Lord knows they aren’t staying together for our sakes so what is the point? Not like Mom wasn't already an heiress before she met him.’ Sigurd asked in a sour tone.

‘Who knows, it doesn’t matter. I'm going out with some friends, I’ll be back in the morning.’ Ubbe said.

‘Can I tag along? I have nothing going on, but I certainly don’t want to stay here.’ Hvitserk asked.

‘Sure, you two wanna join?’ Ubbe offered.

‘Hell no, I have my own plans, taking a girl to a poetry slam and then a night on the town.’ Sigurd said dismissively.

‘No need to ask Ivar, he has plans with his girlfriend.’ Hvitserk said.

‘Oh he finally got official with (Y/N)? Good for him.’ Sigurd hummed casually.

‘I’m not official with her, I’m not unofficial with her because I’m just friends with her.’ Ivar said in his own defense.

‘Well I don’t believe that for a second.’ Sigurd dismissed.

‘Funnily enough I said the same thing.’ Hvitserk added in agreement.

‘That’s because you idiots have two brain cells between the two of you and you’re sharing one of them.’ Ivar teased.

‘Whatever, you in or not?’ Ubbe asked in mild amusement at his younger brothers bickering.

‘No, gonna catch up on some Netflix documentaries, there’s a good one abou-‘

Ivar was cut off by his phone ringing in his pocket, he pulled it out and looked at the contact.

My Literal Child

‘Might I suggest you change her contact info, looks creepy considering the change in your relationship.’ Ubbe said.

‘I would like to suggest you invite her over to Netflix and Chill.’ Sigurd grinned.

‘Shut up.’ Ivar said as he went into his room and closed the door.

He accepted the call and kicked off his shoes.

‘What’s up, except for your horrible timing?’ Ivar answered.

‘Hey so I’m super grounded.’ she said.

‘Can I ask why, hello by the way.’

‘Because my mother isn’t blind enough to miss a hideous truck in her driveway.’

Ivar outwardly facepalmed, he had been so pill loopy and pain struck that he hadn’t even thought about hiding his truck a few blocks down.

‘But luckily my mom likes you so much she isn’t mad enough to kill me. I am still on lock down with the exception of school and I won't be allowed any visitors unless it's a classmate for a group assignment for two weeks.’

‘That sucks but is there anything else, because I have some news that will blow your mind.’ Ivar replied.

‘Actually yes, the doctor called my mom on Friday to set up a sleep study for me on Monday night. Problem is my mom can’t make it and that hospital isn’t really walking distance from my house.’

Do you want me to take you, I can wait for you in the waiting room too.’ Ivar offered.

‘Thanks, now what is your news? Is it...you know?’ she asked quietly in a way that suggested she didn’t want anyone hearing what they were talking about.

‘Yeah. Do you remember that guy you told me about from your dreams, the one with no eyes?’

‘Hard to forget a face like that.’

‘I know tell me about it, I just saw him.’ Ivar said.

‘What do you mean you saw him? Like you dreamed about him? Did he say anything to you?’ (Y/N) asked eagerly.

‘No not in a dream, I mean I saw him. He was just sitting down with me and my family having lunch. He’s one of my father’s first clients, he looked no older than fifty tops.’ Ivar ranted.

‘That’s not possible, we already know that all this past life stuff happened in the Viking Age, that is centuries ago, there is no way he could still be alive. Maybe he’s like us and just looks like his ancestor.’ she suggested

‘No. I don’t think so. He pulled me aside and he asked me if I remembered him, he called me…’ Ivar didn’t even want to say it.

‘He called you what Ivar?’ she urged.

‘Boneless, (Y/N) he called me Boneless one. He said he’s lived many years and he will continue to live in this horrible world until I embrace who I am. He said the sooner I do the better everyone will be, he said too many people are at stake. The bastard called me selfish and he doesn’t even know me!’ Ivar vented, growing angrier with every word.

‘Ivar! Ivar calm down! Calm down!’ (Y/N) cried from the other line.

‘How! Some old fool just showed up speaking like a cartoon fortune teller and called me selfish!’ he seethed.

‘If you aren’t then why be upset!’

All at once Ivar’s anger left him, and it left his body feeling deflated like a balloon.

He still took a few deep breaths just to assure himself that he was actually calm.

‘Are you good now?’

‘Yeah, yeah I’m good; I’m sorry I didn’t mean to yell at you.’ he apologized.

‘I know, you only yell when we talk about who you might have been before; it’s like your twisted version of a defense mechanism. Not that I can blame you, I’m currently looking into this guy and yeah I get being afraid to be him, I’m scared reading it.’

‘I’ve read everything about him, I know almost every theory and legend that even mentions his name.’ Ivar replied as he laid in his bed and looked up at his ceiling.

‘Who is your favorite fairy tale character?’ Ivar asked.

‘Alice from Alice in Wonderland.’ she replied without hesitation.

‘Imagine some caterpillar showing up and saying you’re the real Alice and you just don’t remember.’

‘I’m sure I’d be too freaked by a talking bug.’ she joked.

‘Well the guy looks like an insect.’ Ivar snipped.

‘That’s mean. How about tomorrow after you get out of school you come over and we can talk about this eyeless guy for a while before I have to go in for my sleep study.’

‘I thought you said no visitors.’

‘I did but I did say she likes you and she seems to trust you to make sure I don’t take a nap before my sleep study. My neighbor is going to be checking on me during school hours.’

‘OK, I’ll be there.’

‘Thanks, so we are good to go. Oh and Ivar...for what it’s worth I don’t think you’re selfish; you’re the most generous guy I’ve met.’

‘I’m happy that you think so, I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Ivar said.

‘See you tomorrow Ivar.’ (Y/N) said before she hung up.

Ivar threw his phone down on his bed and closed his eyes.

She thought he was generous and that really made him feel bad about what he thought when Mr. Divine said too many people were at stake.

Why are they his responsibility?

#Find us Series #find us #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #ivar ragnarson #sons of ragnar #sigurd ragnarson #hvitserk ragnarson #ubbe ragnarsons #vikings imagine #MODERN VIKINGS #modern!vikings #The Seer

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haleviyah · 2 years

Text

It's been a Decade...

Did another “Draw this again meme” this time with our main guy here.

Just an FYI "Rose of Sharon" did officially turn six years old this past Passover/Easter Sunday. However, Joshua (or "Yeshua") as a character has been scribbled by me since I was roughly sixteen years of age.

(Compared to Michael and Gabriel who both have been around for a record 16-17 years - hot damn!)

All I can say is… WOW.

Just, wow. Almost a decade and here we are. As I have stated before, Joshua has been through one hell of a metamorphosis that mirrored my personal growth and struggles. Wether that can be taken in a positive or negative stance is completely up to you and what you want to see here.

With that being said, art-wise it's obvious where the improvement is and how much it has changed dramatically since 2013 or 2012 (the before drawing) compared to now (2022).

I want to keep this short, so let's look at the improvements for Yehoshua design shall we?

=========

Before (2012-2013)

So what was Yeshua like in 2012-2013 originally? Well, let's see:

Majority of the personality traits that Yehoshua had a decade ago was rooted mainly in Baptist Christian beliefs. Here’s a list:

Omnipotent

Idle

Incapable of learning

G-d-complex

Independant

Sovereign King (makes all the decisions)

Somewhat the “Straight-man” of the group.

Kingdom first

Entitlement based Judgement

Not very athletic

Hermitic

“Straight-edge”

Loves the Worship

Knowledgable most of the time.

Personification of a Lion.

Other:

Jewish/Hebraic/Middle Eastern heritage is nonexistent and has no impression on his design or personality.

This is mainly due to my lack of access to the Jewish community at the time and being over saturated in Christian based-doctrines only.

For some reason he had a scars all across his head. I guess it’s because everything else including his hands and feet were covered and it bugged little “fanatical” me.

Originally he was a only meant to reside in Heaven and was forbidden to leave.

Unmarried bachelor.

Fancy curtains for robes.

Almost never interacts with other people, unless the person is picked by him.

Angel’s automatically liked and obeyed him without a second thought.

No soft spots or quirks I can think of.

In short, unkosher and SEVERELY detached from his Jewish background and culture. But he damn well road on that "G-d-king" coat tail like it was the white horse everyone talked about. Everything he ever learned growing up (if any)... be damned.

=========

Now (2022)

So who is Yeshua now in "Rose of Sharon" ? The polar opposite now ever since I started hitting those Judaism books like they were the last supper and completely separated from the Christian church for good due to personal fallouts.

After years and YEARS of studying and discussing with others over how life was like back then and now for the Jewish people and Israel as a whole, affectively moulded our male lead into something a lot more than just a name and face.

And because of that cultural baptism, Joshua is now:

Empathetic

Active

Capable of learning

Fixer-complex

Josh does have a habit of thinking if he broke it, he can fix it again and this is where his most stubborn side comes out.

Team player

Congressional Legislature (needs to find a compromise among peers)

Slick Smart Ass of the group

Loved ones first

Incentive/Character based Judgement

Athletic

Social and curious.

Drinks [wine] and smokes [hookah]

Hates being worshipped.

Clueless at times.

Personification of a lamb… or ram, if you piss him off.

Other:

Married man.

Prostitutes, Widows and Orphans have a soft spot in his heart.

Jewish/Hebraic/Middle Eastern heritage is a huge influence his design or personality to the point he respects cultures in the region.

Heavily interacts with other people native or not native to Israel.

Very simple, mundane wardrobe that would have you mistake he’s a lumberjack as a side hustle. Hunting gear is based off military and athletic-wear.

A wanderer. Joshua travels from place to place until someone decides to host him for a time, because... what is this “kingdom come” you speak of?

Angels (or Malakim) are skeptical of him unless given a reason otherwise (Michael is a prime example).

In short, more attached to his cultural background and is very open personality-wise and communication wise. I suppose you can say Josh's a lot more conscientious this time around; at least to the point he doesn't give a shit if he's patted on the back or not in the end.

All I can say is the change is quite stark in contrast. One minute he is a G-d-King who can command angels with a flick of his finger, the next an exiled soul trying to understand his worth and such angels only listen to his host rather than him.

I will not say which is better, but I will leave the judgement up to you wether this progress is headed in a solid direction or not. Regardless if you like the Christian Jesus or the Hebrew Yehoshua, this progression for me as a creator is more than a 90º turn... it's a 180 and it's going somewhere.

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hide-in-imagination · 3 years

Text

"Roads That Cross... on a Day Off"

You can read the previous chapters here: (1), (2), (3), (4), (5), (6), (7), (8), (9), (10), (11), (12), (13), (14), (15), (16), (17), (18), (19), (20), (21)

——————————————————————————

Inspired by 'Call it what you want', which is honestly THE simbar song. The author regrets nothing.

——————————————————————————

Simón’s left arm was asleep.

He noticed it the moment he woke up, but he refused to move. The prettiest head of blonde locks was using it as a pillow, and who was he to disturb her?

It was a rare occurrence that he woke up before Ámbar. She was a natural early riser while he liked to sleep as much as possible. He usually woke up from her movements as she started her day, or— and this was his favorite— with some caress or kisses from her part. He could start becoming a morning person if that was what awaited him.

So, uncommon as it was, he wanted to cherish this, just this, having her close in complete calmness. Ámbar’s back was to his chest, their legs close together, and his free arm was around her middle, holding her against him. He wanted to run his hand over her skin, or maybe take hers in his, but he didn’t want to risk anything putting an end to this moment.

He fleetingly wondered how long his arm could go without blood flow before it did some damage.

Oh well, who cared.

He couldn’t see her face spooning her like this, but he noticed when she started waking because the even rhythm of her breathing he had been following changed. She began to move, stretching slightly in a way that pressed her back more into him. Simón did hold her hand then and kissed her shoulder. She hummed softly and turned her head to look at him.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he said with a smile.

“Good morning,” she murmured, her voice groggy from sleep. She rolled to rest her head on his chest, which his left arm appreciated. He laid on his back. “What time is it?” She asked after a moment of just relishing the closeness.

Simón extended his right arm over to the nightstand to check his phone. “Almost eleven.”

“Eleven?!” Ámbar jumped, as if he’d said four in the afternoon. “Wow, I hadn’t slept in this much in a long time…” She said, recovering from the surprise. She brought her gaze to his with a coquettish look. “You really wore me out.”

Simón smiled smugly and gave a small shrug. “Well, what can I say? I like to be very thorough,” he said playfully. “Or… maybe all of this was part of my evil plan to get you to let me sleep until a decent hour.”

She raised her brows. “Decent hour? By the time we go downstairs, we might as well have lunch.”

He gave her a look. “You’re totally exaggerating, it’s not that late.” He turned on his side and ran his knuckles softly over her right arm. “And anyway, I wasn’t planning on going to the dining room.” He smiled at her. “How does breakfast in bed sound?”

Her eyes sparkled. “Really?”

“Of course. It’s the least my queen deserves.”

She tilted her head to the side with the cutest melted smile.

“Aww.” She cupped his cheek and leaned in to kiss him. “I love you.”

He gave her another peck. “I love you more.”

She drew back with a gasp in fake outrage. “You do not want to start that discussion, mister.”

“Oh really?” He said, playing along.

“Yep, because you’re going to lose,” she said confidently. “So better give up now while you still can.”

He smirked. “Or what?”

Ámbar’s eyes narrowed with challenge just as he wanted. With the hint of a smile on her lips, she rose and sat astride him, keeping his gaze from above.

“Or I’ll have to show you just how wrong you are.”

Simón kept his mask of a straight face. “That remains to be seen.”

One beat later, he went and flipped her over, making her explode into giggles that he captured with kisses in between his own smiles.

Maybe breakfast could wait.

*****************

The instant that “Esta Noche No Paro” stopped playing, claps and cheers replaced the music. Gastón was fascinated with the final product. It was magical to see everything put together when he’d been right there, in front of the camera, not knowing the shots that would come out of it. He was happy to see that both his dance moves and the choreography’s synch had come out great, but even more than that, he was happy to see the twinkle on Matteo’s eyes and the huge grin that split his face in two. They’d watched the video at the Roller with Delfi, Jazmín, Pedro and Ramiro, and Gastón could honestly say that Matteo and Delfi deserved all the praises that came their way— The video was amazing.

Everyone was very excited, so much so that Pedro gave them all smoothies on the house. Gastón had missed hanging out with his friends like this, a lot. Just their cheery conversations were sweeter than any drink. It was good to be back, no matter how short the visit.

The group dispersed after a while, everyone continuing their daily routines. Gastón and Matteo stayed on a table, Matteo still stuck on the video.

“It’s just… I really think if there is one person that should be receiving praises right now, it’s Luna,” he said, half awed by her, half lamenting she wasn’t there. “I mean, she came up with the video, shemade it happen… I really don’t know how to thank her for all of this.”

Gastón looked at his friend and pretended to think for a second. “Mmm, I don’t know, maybe you could give her a bouquet of flowers,” he proposed, which Matteo seemed to like. “… And, while you’re at it, get back together with her.”

Matteo immediately became self-conscious. Gastón pushed forward. “Come on, dude, I’ve been here for a total of two days and it’s already obvious to me that you two still care about each other. Can you explain to me why you’re not together yet?”

Matteo averted his gaze, looking disheartened. “… A lot of things happened. Every time we get closer, we end up hurting each other and… Luna doesn’t feel the same way anymore.”

Gastón looked at him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? Matteo, she organized a whole music video for you. To cheer you up, to make youhappy. What else do you want? For her to write it in the sky?”

Tentatively, Matteo brought his gaze to his. “You really think so?”

“Everyone thinks so,” he declared. “You just need to gather the courage and go for it.”

Hope and worry mixed in Matteo’s expression. He looked down, seeming deep in thought. Gastón wished he didn’t drown in those thoughts of his so much and listened to his heart.

Just then, Nina entered the Roller with Jim and Yam and his eyes followed her as she walked over to a table, settling with her laptop as they talked about one thing or another.

Gastón filled his lungs with a big, deep breath. Time to start following his own advice.

***********************

By the time they finally deigned to leave the bed it was like two in the afternoon, and only because Ámbar thought it’d be a bad idea to introduce herself to Simón’s mom while in bed with him. She wanted to make a good impression— The woman didn’t need to know how she was defiling her son.

They sat on one of the couches in the living room for a more neutral setting. Ámbar chose a white top with a white linen sweater over it for the occasion. It made her look harmless enough. She also liked how its black and cream pearl embellishments combined with her dark jeans, and the weather had been a bit cooler lately. Simón had also opted for wearing his jean shirt over his purple t-shirt instead of tying it around his hips for that same reason.

They settled in front of her laptop’s screen for the video chat. It had been Ámbar’s idea to have it through there so it was more comfortable, that way neither side had to be holding up a phone.

Just as Simón had told her, the call hadn’t been a serious affair at all. She’d been a little nervous at the beginning, but Simón’s mom’s wide smile and warm personality put her at ease quickly. The woman didn’t seem to hate her at all, and she seemed too genuine to be pretending to like her. She reminded her so much of Simón. She knew that he mostly looked like his dad from the photos she’d seen on his Instagram, but he had his mother’s eyes, and the more Ámbar talked to the woman, the more pieces of him she found in her. It warmed her heart.

It wasn’t a very long chat, but Simón’s mom found the time to tell her a fun story of when Simón was a kid, much to his embarrassment and her insurmountable enjoyment. She promised to show her the family photo albums when she visited Cancún. Ámbar loved the idea.

“You’ll have to show me your photos too then,” Simón told her, his eyes shining with excitement and curiosity.

Ámbar did her best to keep her smile in place. She didn’t have any photos from when she was a kid that she knew of. Sharon wasn’t one for sentimentalities like that. If she had any, they were probably taken by Amanda on specific dates like her first day at kindergarten and at the Blake. Maybe some from old birthdays. Ámbar had no idea where those could be though… if Sharon had kept them at all.

The only old photos she knew she had were from photoshoots. She’d first asked for one when she turned twelve, and had some more done after that. When all cellphones started having decent cameras, it became easier to have photos.

Ámbar chose not to say any of it, and tried not to let it darken her mood, but the bitter reminder stuck on the back of her mind. The contrast between Simón’s mom’s sweetness and the cold, scolding texts she’d been receiving from Sharon was too great. Ámbar was ignoring them. Her godmother had no right to reprimand her for anything when she was keeping her secret at the expense of jeopardizing her happiness.

The video call ended with Simón’s mom teasingly warning him to behave and giving Ámbar permission to put him in his place if he didn’t. The irony of Ámbar promising to keep him on the right track was not lost on her, but it was just playfulness in the end. She only hoped that the future plans they’d talked about did come to pass.

After that, Simón insisted on inviting her out for lunch. “When was the last time we had time for an actual date? We need to seize this opportunity!” He took her to a restaurant he’d visited before with Pedro and Nico. It was nothing fancy, completely unlike the restaurants Sharon took her to the times they ate outside, but it was nice, and the food was delicious. The company was the best part, of course. Ámbar felt like she could’ve eaten anything and anywhere as long as she was with Simón. She nursed her drink slowly just so they could stay there longer, smiling and conversing. She suspected he did the same.

They had a brief fight over who would pay the bill. Ámbar argued that there was no need for him to spend money on her when she had more than she needed, but Simón insisted that he had invited her so it should be his treat. She proposed splitting it, but Simón wanted to pay for both. Sensing that it was important to him, she relented.

She grabbed his hand as they left and they walked down the street with their fingers interlocked. Ámbar would’ve been happy to just walk around with him for the rest of the afternoon until the sun went down, but he proposed they went back to the mansion.

When they got there though, she didn’t get to cross the front door before Simón stopped her.

“Wait for me right here, don’t move.”

Ámbar frowned but did as told while he disappeared inside, curious as to what idea he’d come up with.

He reappeared about five minutes later, with both hands behind his back, sign that he was hiding something.

“Okay, so, um, I want to make you a surprise,” he started.

She smiled with interest. “Okay…”

“But, in order to do that, I’m going to need you to be out of the mansion for a while.”

Ámbar raised a brow. Now this was unexpected, but she was too curious to say no. “Like for how long?”

“I don’t know, an hour?”

“And… what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

Simón finally brought his hands forward, revealing one pair of her skates and her helmet. “You can rollerskate,” he said cheerily. “I’ve noticed that with so much work you haven’t found much time to do so lately. And, I mean, it’s a shame really, to deny the world the chance of seeing the queen of the rink in action.”

Her heart melted with the flattery, and especially for how thoughtful a gesture it was. “You’re so cute. But the idea of this day was to spend it together,” she argued, moving closer to place her hands on his shoulders. “I would rather skate with you. I miss it.”

He showed a sympathetic smile. “Me too. We can do that if we find some time at work one of these days. But now,” he handed her her things, “you can have some alone time and clear your head.”

Ámbar received them with an acquiescent smile. “Okay.”

“I’ll text you when you can come back.”

“Okay. Just try not to destroy my house with whatever you have planned.”

Simón chuckled. “I won’t. I may have to borrow a couple of things though, you don’t mind?”

She shrugged. “You live here, grab whatever you like.”

They shared a short parting kiss.

“Have fun,” he said with a smile.

Ámbar gave him one last peck just because she could and left.

**********************

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

Nina smoothed her hands down her skirt. They were sweating so hard, and she knew it had nothing to do with the mellow autumn sun shining over them in the quiet square.

It was all about the boy in front of her, who’d always had the ability to make her heart pound. And to whom, she realized, she still hadn’t said anything.

“Yeah, well, we’re still friends, right?” She somehow managed to articulate nervously, trying to show a smile. “I mean, if you need something, advice or anything like that, I can help. Although, I don’t know if I’d really be much help. Maybe you should talk about it with Matteo?”

Gastón looked at her in silence, in the eyes, in a way that did nothing to calm her heart.

“Matteo can’t help me with this,” he said, just the slightest hint of sadness in his voice showing he wished it were not so. “No one, really... It is about you and me.”

Yes, that was exactly what she’d feared. “…You wanna talk about us?”

Gastón nodded solemnly.

“Could we take a seat?” He invited her gently, signaling to the bench right next to them.

They both sat, keeping some small distance between them, but they were still very close. When had been the last time they’d been this close? Alone? Nina was having a hard time keeping his gaze. She was gripping the strap of her bag so hard her fingers would probably hurt later.

“Look, Nina,” Gastón started, his tense shoulders the only thing that betrayed he was nervous too, “I’ve been thinking a lot these past few weeks… and you have no idea how much I miss you.”

Her heart clenched painfully.

God, how many times had she dreamed with him saying those words? So many scenarios, so many things she’d wished to say. And now she was frozen.

“Every second I’m not studying I think of you,” Gastón continued, his emotion-filled voice hitting her with each word. “Hell, even when I’m studying I think of you— That I haven’t failed a class is a miracle.” He looked down, ashamed. “And I know that saying this now is unfair when it was me who wanted to end it but… I need to correct my mistake.” Gastón looked up. Honest, determined eyes bore into hers. “I want us to be together again, Nina. I want you to be my girlfriend.”

Nina felt herself tremble.

“I… I don’t understand,” she uttered, her brain registering the words but unable to process them. Or perhaps she was too scared to. “What happened with all you said? What happened with not making each other suffer and letting destiny bring us back together someday if it was meant to be?” She’d held on to that. To the belief that their names were being kept by the sea and maybe they’d find each other in the future. She’d accepted that, and now he…

“That was before my best friend fell off a fence,” Gastón said, somber, and his expression just quieted her once more. “He could’ve died, Nina. One bad hit in the head is all it takes. And I would’ve been a hemisphere away.” His hands clenched. His face reflected how much the idea tormented him. “I started thinking of possibilities. Matteo could’ve died or ended up in vegetative state or in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Accidents happen every day— And what if it had been you?” He said, his eyes dancing between hers in fear. “What if something had happened to you and I wouldn’t have been able to be there?” His jaw set. His head shook slightly. “I can’t trust a hypothetical future when I could die tomorrow.”

Nina’s throat tightened. “Don’t say things so horrible, please.”

“It’s true,” he dismissed her pleading, not harshly but with the calmness of someone who has complete certainty of what he’s saying. “That’s why I had to come. For Matteo, and for you. To ask you to give me another chance.”

He seemed to want to hold her hands but didn’t dare to do so. They fell back on the bench, right on the edge of the flounce of her skirt. Nina had no chance to be either disappointed or relieved by that because his eyes held her captive.

“I’m so sorry,” Gastón said, like from the bottom of his heart. “I gave up on us too soon. I was a coward; I see that now. I thought I was doing what was best for us, so we wouldn’t have to suffer from being so far apart. But maybe I was just thinking of myself and what I thought would hurt me less. Maybe I was just too afraid of you finding some other guy… And now, because of that, my greatest fear came true,” he said dejectedly, averting his gaze. “I’ve been told that you have a thing with Eric…”

“No!”

The word was pulled from her lips before she made a conscious decision. She was not surprised to see the surprise in Gastón’s eyes because she was caught off guard too. She began to backtrack rapidly.

“I mean… He’s a very sweet guy,” she said, because not saying it would be unfair. Just the fact that she’d denied him so adamantly made her feel mean. “We see each other every day and we talk. We’re kinda similar, we get along very well. And…” She doubted. She felt awkward telling him all this, but after everything Gastón had said to her, she had to be honest, she couldn’t act like there was nothing there. “…He likes me…”

She decided not to mention the kiss. It’d been a mistake and Eric had apologized. But by Gastón’s face, she might as well have.

He looked down, putting on a solemn mask. “…I understand.”

“No, you can’t understand,” Nina said immediately, and this time she meant the strength with which she spoke. She didn’t know where it came from but suddenly it was burning, and when he met her gaze this time, she looked at him straight on. “You can’t possibly understand because I don’t. Everyone’s telling me that I should give Eric a chance and, honestly, there are many reasons why I should, starting with the fact that he’s here and wants to be with me, but I can’t even think about being with Eric because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Now it was him that was rendered speechless. His eyes searched hers, a new light in them, and she’d already taken the jump, so she let the words fall whenever they led her.

“You may have gone very far away physically, but you stayed in my heart,” she confessed. The most real, hardest truth she’d ever had to admit. “And with it stayed the sadness, and this horrible feeling that I’m missing something…”

Gastón didn’t doubt this time— He took her hands in his.

“I feel the same,” he said with both relief and desperation. “I’ve been feeling the same way all these weeks, Nina. I miss you like I didn’t even think I could miss someone. I’ve been so angry at myself for letting you go when it was the last thing I wanted.” His right thumb ran over her knuckles and he followed the caress with his eyes. Nina felt it like a spark. “I know I have no right to ask you anything… But I just can’t go back without at least trying to get you back.”

“…But then… we’d be together but apart again?” She said, discouraged by that bleak future. They’d already been through that— Did he really want to go back to it?

“You were the one who said that I was never really gone,” he noted. “As long as we still have each other here…” He brought their joined hands to his chest. “…Isn’t that all that matters?”

She didn’t know if she could feel his heart against her fingers or if it seemed so because she could see it through his eyes. She was too overwhelmed. “Gastón—”

“Say yes, Nina.” He squeezed her hands. “Please.”

She wanted to say yes. She wanted to jump into his arms and hug him tightly. She wanted to believe that love conquered all and they would be okay.

But she had thought that once. She’d believed it with all her heart, all through that summer, only for him to put an end to the story she’d been trying to write.

She couldn’t just forget about all the nights she’d spent crying over him since then. Names in the sea or not, it had been the death of something and she’d mourned it. Her heart was just starting to heal a little and he wanted her to rip all the carefully placed stitches and re-open the wound once more?

What if it just bled out again? What if their love wasn’t enough?

“… I need to think about it.”

Gastón looked disheartened but nodded and let go of her hands, lowering them slowly. “Yeah, of course. I understand.” He tucked his hands inside the pockets of his jacket, like stopping himself from reaching for her once more. “I leave in three days. If you could tell me by then…”

Nina nodded, utterly unsure of how she was even gonna make heads of what she felt to come to an answer, but knowing that it was the least Gastón deserved, and she as well.

She either chose to give themselves another chance… or she closed this chapter forever.

She knew it wouldn’t be easy no matter which she chose.

****************

Luna couldn’t understand what was happening.

She’d gone out for ice cream with Michel just like they’d promised. One second they were goofing around, laughing like always, and then the next, Michel was kissing her.

She froze, her brain scrambling to comprehend the situation. She hadn’t expected a kiss. She hadn’t given any sign for a kiss. He hadn’t just stumbled and fallen into her mouth, right? Nono, he was holding her face, and the way he was pressing against her lips was way too deliberate. Which meant it wasn’t a joke either, and even if it had been, it’d be a terrible one.

Finally, the repulsion she felt broke through the paralysis of confusion and she pulled away from Michel.

“What are you doing?” She asked, shaken up.

Michel was grinning. “I don’t know, I kissed you,” he said with a dreamy expression like something magical had just happened.

Meanwhile, it must have been one of the few times in her life Luna couldn’t see any good in a situation.

“Yeah, I realize that,” she replied, and she really couldn’t help the bite in her voice. “But, why? I mean, I didn’t— I never told you to kiss me!”

Michel’s shoulders deflated and his smile began to fade. “What are you saying? You didn’t like it?”

“Michel, how could I like it?” She honestly couldn’t believe he was even asking right now. Was he that detached from reality? In what world did he think this was okay? “We talked about this, didn’t we? Yesterday.”

“Yes, but,” he showed a tentative smile, “you said we are like birds of a feather and that you like hanging out with me…”

“Yeah, as friends,” she declared, keeping his gaze so he knew she was serious. A grimace wrinkled her face from all this situation. “God, Michel, you misunderstood everything, I thought we’d made things clear.”

Michel’s face finally lost all its light and became covered with remorse. “Luna, I’m sorry. Can we talk about this?”

“Why, I don’t know— Are we gonna talk and then you’ll try to kiss me tomorrow?!”

At seeing him wince in pain and regret, Luna’s outrage decreased somewhat; she didn’t want to be mean.

She closed her eyes, sighing heavily. “Look, Michel, I’m sorry, but this made me very uncomfortable and I need to go.”

She passed by his side and walked away, not looking back once, even when she heard him calling her name.

She wasn’t just shocked, she was hurting. She trusted Michel, she thought they were friends, she thought this outing had been as friends— Had he been just waiting for an opportunity to do this? Couldn’t he have at least leaned in slowly so she could move away instead of grabbing her face like that?

She rubbed her lips with the back of her hand as if that would somehow erase it. She knew it was just a kiss and she was probably exaggerating but… If she said she didn’t want something and then he just did it anyway, that was… that was just wrong.

She speed-walked to her house, wanting nothing more than to forget this happened.

A few meters away, a fresh bouquet of flowers laid discarded on the ground.

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Ámbar felt the fresh air against her face. She closed her eyes for a moment, just taking in the feeling of her racing heart and the energy flowing through her muscles. She really had missed this.

She was standing by the lime green railing of the center of the park, her back and elbows resting on the metal as she took a break to refill her energy. She’d done pirouettes and jumps around this fenced circumference for a little over an hour, earning some appreciative stares from people passing by, which she enjoyed greatly. She loved feeling admired, especially because she loved what she did and knew how hard it’d been to reach this level. She remembered how her love for rollerskating had been born and wondered if any of the people who’d seen her today had left wanting to learn how to do the same. She hoped they tried it— It was a beautiful sport.

Eventually, she’d dropped the techniques and just skated around the park, looking at the scenery, at the sky, just letting her mind wander as the homely feeling of sliding on wheels lulled her accumulated stress away. When had been the last time she’d skated just for the sake of it, no choreographies or competitions in mind? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

A vibration on her jeans pocket made her open her eyes. Her heart jumped with excitement. She pulled out her phone and saw the contact she had been waiting for.

My love💙: All done, you can come back 👍

My love💙: Go directly to your room

Ámbar skated to a nearby bench to take off her helmet and change back into her boots. She wondered what Simón had planned. Maybe he’d cooked her something? She knew he and Pedro used to take care of cooking when they lived in the loft. Nico apparently couldn’t be trusted to make toasts without burning them. She wondered what kind of dishes Simón knew how to make. Maybe he could teach her some and she could make him pancakes. She was sure she could do it with some guidance from Mónica.

The idea made her smile as she made her way back to the mansion. She quickly wiped it off when she realized, showing a neutral face instead. Oh god, she’d just smiled to herself in the middle of the street. Was this what had become of her? Ámbar Smith, smiling in public like a love-struck fool. She blamed Simón.

She welcomed the heating system when she entered the mansion. She hadn’t realized how the early evening air had cooled her until she felt the contrast with indoors. Following Simón’s instruction, she rearranged her stuff in her hands and climbed up the staircase.

The minute she walked into her room, she stopped in her tracks.

“What the…”

Half her room had been invaded by bedsheets. From the foot of her bed to the back was some kind of tunnel made of different blankets, which didn’t reach higher than her waist. Some things from her shelves were on top of the ends of the blankets on each side; she gathered they worked as weights so the blankets didn’t fall off. The back of the tunnel opened into her closet. She could hardly see it— It was completely covered by bedsheets. It was like having a tent in her room.

At the front of the tunnel, she recognized the pink round ottoman she usually kept in her closet. It was standing on its side instead of the usual way, so it blocked the entrance to the archway of fabrics. Just then, she watched it slide to the right, leaned against her bedside. Behind it, crawling to fit under the blankets, appeared Simón, grinning from ear to ear.

“Surprise.”

Ámbar’s mouth was hanging open.

“I… What is all this?” She said with a stupefied smile.

“You said you’d never built blanket forts before, so I decided to make one for you,” he announced cheerily. “Come on in, check it out.” He crawled to the back. “Close in your way in!”

Still dumbfounded, Ámbar left her rollerskates and helmet on the floor next to her vanity. Usually, she’d put them back in their place first thing, but considering her closet was now a fort, that would have to wait.

She kicked off her boots and got on her knees to enter the tunnel. As she went inside, the construction became more evident: The blankets were hanging from her vanity’s chair, one of her sofa chairs and her desk on the left side, and from her bed, her second sofa chair and her pink bench on the right. She turned to put the ottoman back in its place and realized it basically worked as a sliding door. Wow, her boyfriend was so clever.

She crawled to the back, where Simón was waiting for her, sitting crossed-legged. The whole floor was covered in her dark grey carpet, and there were many pillows and blankets placed around. Bedsheet walls —there was no other way to describe it— flowed down at her right, left and in front of her closet’s shelves. Ámbar simply couldn’t believe her eyes.

“I asked Mónica to make us some snacks,” Simón said, still smiling, placing a small tray with food and drinks between them as she sat on his left. “I gathered you’d be hungry from skating. Oh! Wait, I forgot something.” He reached for an extension cord on his right and flicked the switch. Light shone all around them. “There you go.”

Ámbar looked around. Two garland lights had lit up, one on each side of them. She looked up, finding an arrangement of tiny golden lights illuminating the bedsheet ceiling. Were those Christmas lights? Where had he even gotten those?

The more she looked, the more details of his work she noticed. The bedsheet walls existed because he’d attached two parallel strings from the back of the closet to the front to hang them from. He’d taken care of hiding the cables of the lights so they wouldn’t disturb the space. There were at least three bedsheets, and she wasn’t even going to count the number of blankets he’d used in all of this.

She remembered his words that morning in the bathtub. “Don’t you feel like we’re in our own little world like this?”

It did feel like that. Like he had built a world just for her.

“Wow…”

“Do you like it?”

She could feel his eyes on her, but she couldn’t tear her own from the splendor around her.

“It’s… perfect,” she said with some difficulty. Her throat had gotten tight. No one had ever put this much effort into doing something for her.

“I mean…” Simón relativized, looking around with a little grimace. “I did have to tape a lot of things together because they kept falling off…”

“Do not mess with my fort; it’s perfect,” she countered him strongly, trying to hide the tremble in her voice.

Simón chuckled lightly. His eyes stared into hers, and he must have noticed the emotion in them because his expression softened. He didn’t comment on it, just handed her a snack from the tray with a gentle smile. “Let’s eat then.”

They shared the food in comfortable silence until conversation arose naturally. How had her skating gone, how he’d found Christmas lights. It didn’t go any deeper than that.

Once finished, Simón slid the tray outside of the bedsheet wall. “To make sure we don’t knock over anything. I’ll take it back later.”

Ámbar leaned on her hands to move closer to him and kissed him. She needed to do so for a while now. He tasted of the juice he’d just drunk. It stayed on her lips as she pulled away.

“So,” she said curiously, “what do we do now?”

“I’m not sure,” Simón replied, and began to pile some pillows behind them, against the closet’s doors. “Usually when I did this I was with a friend or a cousin.”

Ámbar settled against the pillows as he did the same. “And what did you do with them?”

“We talked about kid stuff, like videogames or cartoons we were watching…”

“Uh huh…”

“Or we imagined that this was our secret base and we were professional spies, and we had to crack some code to get into the bad guys’ files or infiltrate their base to beat them.”

She gave him an appreciative look. “You’re saying I’m dating an ex-CIA agent? That’s hot.”

“Who said I ever retired?” He replied with a flirty brow lift.

Both chuckled. They shared a soft peck and Ámbar snuggled closer to him, circling her arms around his middle and resting her head on his shoulder.

“What about you?” He asked, moving some strands of her hair back. She looked up at him. “What did you play with your friends?”

“We usually invented stories for the barbies.” She dug deep into her memories, bringing back those moments long past that she hadn’t thought of in years. “Like, there was Sofía, Nicole and Camila and they were best friends, and they did everything together, from shopping to saving the world…”

“That sounds very cool.”

“It was, until Camila found out that Nicole had hooked up with her boyfriend.”

His eyes widened. “Nooo.”

“Yes.”

“That bitch.”

“Right? How could she do that to her after she bought her tickets to Milan’s fashion week?”

“The audacity. I hope Camila put her in her place.”

“Hell yeah she did. We cut her hair and everything.”

Both laughed. The things one did as a kid.

“There was this other story,” she continued after a while, “in which the doll was in love with this guy that was about to fly to another country, so she had to run to the airport to catch him before he left to tell him she loved him, but the craziest things happened to her on the way there, making it suuuper difficult.”

“Did she ever catch him?”

Ámbar turned pensive.

“I wanna believe she did,” she responded. “That she told him she loved him, and he loved her too, and they lived happily ever after.” She looked up at Simón.

“Even with the distance?” He asked, caressing her arm softly.

“Well, no one says he could never come back,” she stated. “Or she could’ve gone to him. I’m sure they found a way.”

Simón smiled, looking into her eyes as he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I think so too.”

Their gazes stayed locked until the gravity pulled them in. Their mouths met for a long second, fitting perfectly against the other’s. The kiss turned into many— Soft, languid touches of their lips that felt better than even skating.

“Did you do this with your friends too?” She couldn’t help but quip.

Simón let out a laugh. “Definitely not.” And he went back to kissing her.

Ámbar felt light; lighter than she ever remembered being. Safe, calm, warm— Like wrapped in a blanket after having been cold. Simón was like that. Like the first sunny days after winter. Like a warm bath after a long day. Like sitting in front of the hearth after having been drenched in the rain. Little things that made everything better. He was made of them, and he took care of giving her each one.

He didn’t only help her find who she wanted to be, but he also allowed her to be the carefree little girl she never got to be. Simón gave her things she didn’t realize she needed until she lived them.

Ámbar pulled back slowly and looked into his eyes.

“My love?”

“Yes?”

She curled her fingers around his t-shirt, trying to find the words to express everything she felt.

“Really, thank you so much for this. It’s… the nicest thing someone has ever done for me and…” She swallowed. “I love you. So much. So much so that it kind of makes me wanna cry.” She chuckled weakly, a little strangled.

Simón’s eyes danced with hers, deep and soft and yet burning.

He smiled and held one of her hands. “Ámbar Smith… You are my heart. I swear if it beats it’s because of you. Why should you thank me for anything if thanks to you I’m alive?”

Ámbar’s throat got too tight to answer. Her heart was beating hard in her chest, like trying to go to him. All of her, from the tips of her fingers to the soles of her feet, yearned to cling to him.

She pulled his face to hers and joined their lips tightly.

Simón responded like he felt the same, with the same depth and intensity, but she doubted he could love her a third of how much she loved him.

They unclothed each other slowly, kissing reverently each extension of skin they uncovered. Under those sheets and golden lights, Ámbar felt like they were the only thing that existed. The universe started and ended with him— With each touch of his hands, each kiss from his lips.

The fur of the carpet was soft against her back as he slid inside of her. They gasped against each other’s mouths, a shared sound of rightness. Ámbar embraced him with her whole body and breathed in his scent as she followed the gentle rocking.

Simón left kisses on her cheek, her neck, her collarbone. Ámbar dug her fingers into the softness of his hair and she stared at their fort. The lights above looked like stars. Her eyes absorbed each wrinkle, each mix of color, each scotch tape attached to a fabric. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She would’ve changed all her wealth for having this. For having Simón. Always.

He was pushing deep between her legs, as if he too wanted to live inside her and never leave her side. He panted her name and she held him tighter, feeling how the sensations flooded her and stole her breath.

He touched her where they were joined, looked into her eyes, and then everything exploded, turning Ámbar into stardust.

She was barely corporeal as she felt Simón let go, dissolve in her with his breath against her neck.

A tear fell down her cheek.

Simón saw the wet trail when he straightened and, instantly, his face filled with worry. He opened his mouth and Ámbar could see the questions in his eyes. What happened? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?

But he didn’t voice any of them. Because he looked into her eyes and he understood. Just like that, he understood. Ámbar loved him even more for it.

Simón gave her a soft smile, with just the slightest speck of sadness, and kissed the salt off her skin. That was what he always did— Accept the fragile and unsure her, not just the laughs and her best moments.

She used to think she had to be perfect to be loved. He showed her that wasn’t needed.

Simón grabbed a blanket to cover them both and brought her to his chest. Ámbar pressed her forehead to his warm skin and closed her eyes.

“I wish we never had to leave this fort,” she said softly. “We could just stay here forever. Freeze time, right on this moment.”

Then she wouldn’t have to worry anymore. She wouldn’t have to keep secrets. She wouldn’t get scared every time she felt happy. They’d never have the chance to break each other’s hearts.

She felt the vibrations on his chest as Simón hummed.

“That would be nice…” He agreed, weakly gracing her shoulder with movements of his thumb. “But I’m more excited about all the new things I can still share with you.”

Her breathing stopped for a second. Ámbar looked up and found Simón smiling at her, that smile that was the sweetest she had ever known and sometimes wondered how her life had been before she saw it. His eyes were shining, full of possibilities.

Ámbar looked at him, and against all odds, she began to laugh.

“What?” Simón asked, but she just shook her head, looking away in disbelief.

How was it that he could brighten everything with just one phrase? One second to the other, just like that? It wasn’t fair. It almost made it seem like everything she’d been worrying about were just silly things. So not fair.

Ámbar sighed, and after a beat, brought her gaze back to him.

“Do you like pancakes?”

Simón frowned, clearly confused by the change of topic. “Yeah, why?”

Ámbar smiled and settled back with her head against his chest.

“No reason.”

…

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

(I had never written Gastina, so apology to the shippers if I didn’t get it right, but I believe it turned out pretty decent.)

Not a lot of plot advancement on this one, but I really wanted to give them, and you, this one sweet moment to hold onto. I've had the draft for this last scene since July 16th of *last year*, just so you get an idea of how long I have to wait to post the things I have in mind.

I really love this chapter, I hope you do too <3

I'll leave some reference pictures here. The first one is a drawing that I made. It was only meant for me to visualize the fort, so I apologize for the mess. If I had planned back then to share it with you guys, I would've made it prettier 😅

#simbar #simbar fic #simbar fanfiction #soy luna fanfiction #My Writing #roads that cross

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spideyxmee · 3 years

Text

The Moon's Dark Side Loves Better

A/N: Hi everybody! Thank you for giving time for this short oneshot of a (messed up) scenario I had.

On a serious note, please read in caution. This mildly contains serious topics which I won't specify in case I spoil everything. If you have any trauma or anything in regards to serious and disturbing topics, please proceed with caution or just don't read this at all and move on to the next fic.

Lastly, it is not my intention to hate/bash any canon characters.

I hope you would enjoy it!

socials | ao3 | intro

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Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Specific traumas I won't specify (please go to the next fic if you don't want to see any), some swear words

Pairing: Lily/Male OC, Jily

Genre: Dark

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Elio Gebber was a normal Ravenclaw with a pure heart. He was always kind-hearted and sweet to everyone he came across. The teachers adored his witty attitude in class and his clean reputation. It attracted a lot of people, even the ones older than him. He had attractive features that could charm anyone, long dirty blond hair, and grey-blue eyes. You could see his confidence in the way he walks and talks.

The students know nothing about Elio's hobbies and personal life. He would let others talk about themselves rather than tell something about him. Others describe him as reticent, while others call him mysterious, but this didn't stop students drool all over him.

It all changed when he showed interest in Lily Evans suddenly at the start of his 5th year. Though he was a year younger than her, he didn't care at all what others say. The news spread like wildfire and eventually alerted Lily's other courter James Potter, who was the complete opposite of Elio. But he was as popular among students.

"He's no match for me, right, Sirius?" James asks his best friend for reassurance that his long-time crush would eventually pick him rather than that "nerd." His best friend, Sirius, offered to bully and threaten Elio until he wouldn't even mention Lily's name. James was mature enough to turn down his offer and be a better man for his love.

"Hi, Evans!" Wearing a charming smile, the sanguine Ravenclaw leaned into a pillar to talk to the redhead in front of him at the Gryffindor table.

"You look wonderful today. Would you mind having some Butterbeer with me this Saturday? I would like to get to know you better."

Lily was staring at Elio, astonished. The whole table chattered, and the event eventually reached the far Slytherin table.

"Damn, that was smooth,"

"Maybe I should take him out, huh, Prongs." Sirius's gay heart leaped, while his group of friends shushed him and comforted the down James while he can only watch as the girl he liked for many years gets taken by a boy below his year. He refused to do his old tactics of aggression and respect Lily's decision.

From all the peer pressure, she agreed to give Elio a chance at dating. From what she knew, he was decent boyfriend material, but she would also like to know other things about him. They met up in the Three Broomsticks and had a successful date. He was nice enough to pay for everything they would buy.

On their second date, they enjoyed playing with the fallen leaves and buying candy at Honeydukes. He had great humor. He asked if she would like a kiss, both knew it was too quick for that, but he presented a muggle chocolate Lily adored called Kisses.

For their third date, a month later, they announced that they were officially dating. Elio knew everything about her. Now it's his turn to share things about himself. He told her that he had a hard childhood and didn't like sharing it with anyone. She understood him and promise to avoid mentioning it in the future.

"Hey, Lily! How are you doing?"

An old friend of hers, Frank Longbottom, approached them while sitting at a table in the Three Broomsticks. He was visiting Hogsmeade for a break from his Auror training. She tried to hug him, but Elio was being overprotective and pushed Frank hard away from her. It was the first time anyone saw him being physical.

"Elio! That is so unnecessary," she pulled the boy back and stared at him in shock while asking herself why he was out of character.

"This is my friend, Frank. Frank, this is my Boyfriend, Elio." She blushed while she helps her friend stand up from the fall. The boy that wore a dark expression didn't even apologize and sat down again. He wanted the other two to sit down and ask questions that sound too protective for other people but seem normal to him.

Frank had to go and was only passing by to say hello. The boys both looked at each other intensely. That wasn't a good first impression with Lily's close friend.

As they walk back to Hogwarts after their date, Lily asks Elio if he was ok and grabbed his hand. It was cold and clenched tight.

A few dates came and go, but it got worse and worse. Elio became more aggressive over Lily's simple mistakes like misplacing borrowed things. He turned into a two-faced idiot that seems nice when people were looking. But when alone with his girlfriend, Elio sounded manipulative and self-centered. He wanted the love of his life to be perfect just for him.

After no time at all, she broke up with him. He threatened her that he would die if she broke up with him, but this didn't work on the bright woman at all. She was over his idiotic tactics and two-faced ass.

She told the whole school about him, but none of the students believe her. Elio became depressed and suicidal, and Lily was the one he blames. The entire school despised her, and rumor spread that she only dated Elio for his popularity and looks. The teachers could only do little for the broken-hearted's well-being. Their respective House heads talked to them he looked in a better state. Lily has no proof of abuse to accuse him.

"Lily, can we talk?" James patiently waited for her to come out of their House Head's chamber. Now is the time to at least comfort her.

"Since when do you call me by my first name, Potter?"

It was hard for her to hold back tears from her talk with Professor McGonagall. The teacher offered to look more into her ex for her. But that's all she can do for now.

"I-" Before he could get to say anything, she attempted to walk away. James went in front of her to stop her and gave her a concerned look. Lily stood straight and raised an eyebrow.

"I am here to say that I trust you and know that you would never lie about what Elio has done to you. You can always come to me if you want to talk."

She doesn't have any reason to trust the toe rag back after what he's done to her ex-best friend in their previous school years. But from what he's done this year and the Shrieking Shack incident, she feels that James is a better person and less of a toe rag.

Weeks went by, and the two talked more and more each day. Elio thought this was preposterous and made a scene breaking down and crying every time he sees them together in public. People around felt sorry for him and criticize the two friends that were soon to be a couple.

The school soon didn't care about the drama anymore and focused on other things, which Elio didn't fathom would happen. He hid and kept a low profile for years.

On his 17th birthday, Elio obliviated his mother to erase every memory of him. His mother, Sharon Gebber, didn't care about her own child. Ever since his mother and father divorced in the summer before his 5th year, his mother abused him. She would often use him as a slave and never notice the achievements that he did so that his own mother would pay attention. This lead to his thirst for recognition in public.

Elio successfully erased her mother's memory so she could fuck off his life. He learned about the power of the spell for a specific plan of his. But clearing his mother's memory was just a practice run.

After he graduated, Elio took a job at the daily prophet to earn some money. People there think he's mental. He credits every team achievement to himself and seeks attention every chance he gets.

And even after five years, he was still not over his "love" for Lily. Elio wanted her to love him since he believes that he deserves her.

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While Lily was shopping for baby Harry's stuff at Diagon Alley, she came across an old friend of hers. Elio was sitting at Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour, writing on a notepad about news from Gringotts. She winced as she recalled all the unpleasant memories of him shouting and making her feel bad about herself. Though it was a long time ago, it still left a faint scar on Lily.

When Lily was about to turn away, he looked up, and they met eye-to-eye. He ran up to her and was about to hug her until she stood back.

"Oh Merlin, Lily! How are you?"

She thought of getting mad at him and ignore him for the things he did. But she thought, what if he's changed? He's matured physically, maybe emotionally and mentally too.

"I'm ok. How about you?" She talked slowly, and her voice was softer than usual.

They sat down and chatted for a bit. Lily was clearly uncomfortable, while Elio was very talkative and talked about himself a lot.

"He didn't seem to change a bit." She thought as she prepared an excuse to leave.

"Elio, I think it's time for me to go."

"Oh, you're already about to leave? Why so soon?" he smiled and talked at the same time, looking like a maniac planning. Which he indeed was.

"I have to really take care of my son, excuse me." she grasped her bag hard, trying to hold back the tears as she watched the same smile Elio wore when they dated fade. She left sniffling and wishing that her spouse, James Potter, to be on her side. But he was protecting their 2-month-old son from the dangers ahead.

"Son?" Elio realized that his first love has had a family with another guy. He gave out a psychotic laugh and cried his heart out. People around stared as the adult threw a child-like tantrum.

Lily heard this from far away, but she learned to never look back.

While crying, Elio thought of something. He then chased Lily and decided that it was time for his plan.

He cornered her in a dark alleyway between shops. He covered Lily's mouth with his hand and chanted a spell to stop her from making any noise. He then snatched her wand, tied her feet, and tied her arms behind her with rope from his wand.

"I have wanted to do this ever since I heard rumors of you and that Potter guy's marriage. Now you and he have a child! I can't stand it, Lily. I thought you loved me!" He stopped and scanned around the environment. "Bystanders will notice all my shouting."

"How about we talk at my humble flat here in London. How does that sound?" Elio wrapped his arms around his sweet childhood sweetheart. Lily tried to scream in hopes that someone or anyone would help her. No sound came out of her mouth as she shed tears silently. She fought her best against the stronger, more muscular man armed with a wand she wished she had.

After not long, they apparated together to his flat. To no surprise at all, his place was eerily clean, and the walls painted white. It pretty much looked like a well-furnished white torture room.

"Sit, my love." Elio dragged Lily, holding her arm with his nails sink into her skin. He locked all the doors to keep Lily in his living room as he'll get some water.

When he left, Lily tried to remove her arms and legs from the rope, but she had no luck. She tried to wriggle her limbs out and cut the ropes using sharp objects around. Alas, none of her tactics worked.

Elio returned, seeing Lily with her face wet with tears.

"Oh, love. Don't cry. I'm here. Drink some water." He wore his demented grin again. He was talking to her like nothing happened between them. It was like they were dating again.

She shook her head and bit her lip, making her facial expressions more emotional and angry.

"Wouldn't hydrate, ey? Not drinking water and keeping hydrated is bad for you, baby."

He raised her chin and looked at her face with awe. Lily tried to bite his finger off, but he pulled it away immediately.

"Ah, a little feistier than I remembered." Elio came closer to her lips as he prepared to kiss her. She gave him a painful headbutt, giving both a throbbing headache.

"Ok, Lily. I have had enough. We will come to my room and have some fun playing, won't we?" He sprung to his feet while rubbing his head to relieve the ache. His voice and face were a mix of angriness and excitement.

Knowing what he means, she got to her knees and attempted to talk, "Why, Elio. Please, I have done nothing but be nice to you."

He stopped from pulling her into the bedroom. He sat to her level to meet her eyes.

"That's the point. You did nothing to make me happy." Elio continued to pull her. The chains he used to attach Lily to the bed were ready. The whole room was filled with candles and rose petals, all ready for their steamy night.

"Don't resist me, my Lily! I deserve your love. I need your love." He clenched his teeth, making his words sound hard and scary.

It was the last thing she heard before all of her trauma.

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The morning sun arose. Elio prepared eggs and toast for breakfast without releasing Lily.

"Your bed in breakfast is here, love!" He places the small table on her lap. Elio was covered in bruises which he calls hickeys. The sleeping Lily was the most bruised, not just physically.

Elio obliviated her, confident that he replaced all of her memories with false memories of both of them together, being a happy and normal couple. He didn't know that he messed up.

"If you ever tell anyone about all this, I will kill you and your whole family."

He was removing her chains and undoing the silencing spell when he heard a knock on the door. Aurors arrived at his house for the interview he needed for an article. It was scheduled for 8 pm, but they misunderstood it for 8 am.

While Elio was away attending the Aurors, Lily woke up remembering everything except Elio's face and identity. She did, in fact, hear the mysterious man's threat involving her family. Lily wanted to get out immediately. She found all her stuff and clothes in the room. Luckily with the help of magic, she left out of the window and gently fell to the ground without scraping her already damaged body.

Elio returned to the room after chatting with his guests. He found no one there. He thinks this was mind-boggling and impossible. He prepared all this thoroughly, and he saw no one to blame but himself. The thought of it made him ask his guests to leave his home and throw things around the house.

Lily healed her scars that left unnoticeable traces at first glance and then apparated back to her home. She told the worried Order of the Phoenix members and her panicked husband that she went to her muggle friend's house that had no telephone. She also assured them that she was unable to contact anyone since it was an emergency.

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"James, I'm pregnant."

Her husband celebrated while carrying and dancing with baby Harry in his hands. While he was happy, Lily worried if it was actually her husband's baby she's bearing.

The whole Order of the Phoenix knew. Others say to be careful of this new baby because they know that the he who must not be named is coming for their first child.

While doing an interview at the Leaky Cauldron, Elio looked terrible. Dark circles under his eyes, and he reeked the smell of alcohol. The good-looking young man was nowhere to be found. He worked day and night, punishing himself for losing "his whole world."

He was a workaholic without any motivation for any other things, even the news of Lily's second child he overheard from a random person at the bar.

"I deserve this miserable life. I don't deserve happiness, and most importantly, Lily." he thought after wrapping up the interview and ordering alcohol.

⌇⌇⌇⁃⌇⁃⌇⌇⁃⌇⁃⌇⌇⌇

After a long day of work, Elio didn't stop find stories for work. His workaholic ass made him travel far. He reached West England just for the story about the undiscovered magical creatures around the area.

While searching around a village called Godric's Hollow, he heard a familiar scream. In a house, he saw a silhouette of a woman fall to the floor through a window. Elio wanted to see what happened, but he didn't want to be a suspect. So he covered any trace of him like wearing removing his shoes, wore gloves, and summoned a hairnet. It looked ridiculous but at least he won't be seen by the Aurors as a suspect.

He rushed inside to see James Potter, lifeless. He then realized. Lily must be the woman. He hurried up the stairs thinking about multiple things. "What happened? Will I report this? Who did this? This might make a good story. Is her child dead too? Is Lily dead?"

The first thing Elio saw was a swaddled, blonde infant cooing. Despite the cries of the toddler and her inert mother, she remained calm and silent. The sight of the infant made Elio's heart warm. She looked a lot like him.

His sharp and quick mind made it seem that this little bundle of light that reflected his past beautiful self's features is his own child. The thought pushed his panic buttons. He told himself, "I have made enough mistakes. I let Lily down and abandoned her. I will fix all of them."

Elio left the house with the child, and still, she didn't cry.

He did everything he can for his child. He quitted his job, changed his identity, and started a new life just for his child. He met a woman and he planned to obliviate her into thinking they have a family, and the girl is their child.

Without knowing it, Elio's wand was broken when he chanted the spell. He forgot all his memories that involved Lily, which was a lucky coincidence. The bad things he did to her? Kidnapping Lily's child? All forgotten.

He also forgot his act of acting to be nice and friendly to his "family." Elio's personality changed to match the kind of person he pretended to be.

He's successfully released a magazine of his own. He raised his girl to be better than his old self, even after his spouse died when their daughter was nine. The smart, little Ravenclaw girl loved everyone better than the person she reflected. And after all the bad things Gebber has done before, he helped some hero complete his mission.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

This was the life of Xenophilius Lovegood.

#hp fanfic #oneshot #original character #lily evans #dark #harry potter fandom #harry potter fic #harry potter au #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders era #lily/oc #lily/james #lily evans fanfiction #lily evans x oc #jily #lily evans oneshot #hp one shot

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lady-plantagenet · 3 years

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What are your top ten novels about the Wars of the Roses? And why?

I think it’s obvious by the length how enthusiastic I was to answer this ask xx thank you for asking me and giving me also an opportunity to make a masterlist of some sorts of all my reviews xx. But you know? I speak like quite the expert but in reality I’ve read very little histfic about TWOTR because I just newly got back into this hobby (about a year ago) and have little time in general so tbh the last three books on this list I do not personally care for but since I’ve read so little novels of this kind they are here nonetheless hhh (so please people, give me no angry asks asking me why I am endorsing PG, I’m not).

1. The Last of the Barons by Lord Edward Lytton-Bulwer

This is quite possibly the best book I’ve ever read in my life. The gap between these books and the rest is a chasm the size of the world and I wpuld genuinely reccomend this book as an actual piece of literature to anyone, not just TWOTR fanatics. It is written in 1840, in quite old timey lingo and it centres around Richard Neville 16th Earl of Warwick, but in the true tradition of a real classic it is more than just a character drama, it astutely showcases the purpose of Warwick and what he did in the context of his wider world and doesn’t just chalk it up to personal greed. There is also this fascinating subplot about courtship, science and such. Hell, you even get this eccentric ‘natural philosopher’ guy called Adam Warner who tries to make something like a steam engine and gets employed as an alchemist by Jacquetta and Edward IV.

From a historical standpoint it is quite biased as the author himself was a politician (and an actual baron) and tbh I don’t completely agree with his interpretation of history and I can see some of the Victorian inluences slip in, but some of his takes are very refreshing and he clearly consulted the primary sources. I am much interested in his philosophy and life outlook though and while I don’t think his Warwick is the Warwick, I think he (Lytton-Bulwer) understood him like no other novelist could. As for the writing style... here’s an excerpt of a good reads review that I agree with and tells you all you need to know:

“Of course, such a style of writing no longer exists. The language used is essentially foreign to us. But the nobility, the pride of this story work their ways into your bones, your heart. You will yearn for honor once you have left it.“

Basically, go type it into google and see what I mean. You don’t even need to purchase this book it’s all online at the first click on Gutenberg.

Nevertheless, I’ve posted excerpts of it here, here and here =)

2. The King’s Grey Mare by Rosemary Hawley Jarman

This book (unlike the latter) has zero actual historical value. Actually, it sort of does in the way that it hilights certain real events that most people are unaware of when it comes to its protagonist: Elizabeth Woodville, eg the whole Cooke tapestry affair and the whole Desmond affair. Both things which I still stand on the fence about (if you don’t know what I’m talking about send em another ask or pm me). But like, it isn’t political, philosophical or such in any way like the first book, yet you still feel like you are *there* in the 15th century - by the time I finished reading it my heart was wrung dry and I kind of fell into a down for a couple of days because I just wanted to feel the magic again. If anyone would ask me I would give this 5 stars because it perfectly achieved what it set out to do (I can’t expect all books to go above and beyond like #1), it made me feel for the characters who were super complex, was accurate historically and even when it wasn’t it made sense, it got very creative with its themes (which I like to see because I am not interested in reading the exact same story over and over again) and the prose was absolutely magical and brought all the depth to this novel. I’ve read classics with less flowing and poignant prose, yes actual classics!

This book also switches POVs quite a lot (basically it headhops because it’s written in omniscient- but whatever, rules are meant to be broken), so you’ll get to see many of your faves in there, Edward IV, Margaret of Anjou and Grace Plantagenet feature quite heavily. One thing that disappointed me is that it wasn’t really Edward IV/Elizabeth Woodville (at the time I bought it for that), she never really likes him and his love for her kind of wanes towards the end. If you’re not too bothered about that then I say go buy it.

3. The Daisy and the Bear by K L Clark

I put this here because we are already going into shakier territory when it comes to this list. This is kind of the last *really* good, truly five star one. It is a long spoof about TWOTR but god it’s smart! Yet, It does not take itself seriously and has Margaret of Anjou/Warwick the Kingmaker as a crackship and centrepiece and had me in stitches the whole time. I’ve written a long detailed review for it here.

4. Death be Pardoner to Me by Dorothy Davies

This is a novel about George Duke of Clarence. Quite possibly the only novel ever written about him in existence and boy is it a trip - the author claims to have channelled him (she’s a medium). I’ve written a detailed review for it here. I read this last spring and my views have unfortunately changed, the thing is, I’ve come to find out through my research that this was quite possibly a hoax as there are some indisputable inaccuracies (Ankarette Twynyho’s age, the details of Isabel’s death - we *know* she did not die from childbirth, Isabel did not reunite with him after Tewksbury 1471, but right before Christmas 1470). It’s also quite Richardian (the author admitted) and she could have *had* me had she not chose to divulge it in the foreword. Nevertheless, I still like this book because it did get to me at certain points and it’s good quality as a novel, I remember shedding a tear at one point even which is extremely rare for me but I think that says more about my sentiment for the subject matter than the book itself.

5. We Speak no Treason by Rosemary Hawley Jarman (not yet finished, so ranking may vary)

I haven’t finished it yet, so I’ll leave it here for now. This book is a Richardian book about Richard III, but I can’t get enough of this author, I haven’t found anyone to replace her with. The prose is magnificent as usual and I must confess that I’m happy that this book is told through the POVs of three OCs and not Richard, he remains rather elusive and tbf I find the three OCs very interesting and at this point I’m more interested in their stories than anything else. Of course, Richard III is still a fairly prominent part of this novel (even when he doesn’t appear) and it has led to me getting annoyed quite a bit. Given who I am I fumed massively at that one aside that Clarence and Edward have bastards whereas Richard isn’t like that... like are you serious?? At one point the author reassociated the Games and Playes Chesse book to Richard when it was in reality dedicated to Clarence and I got even more annoyed. Leave the poor figure something ma’am? Whatever, as a book about three medieval commoners it’s fantastic and that’s what I pretend it is.

6. Wife to the Kingmaker by Sandra Wilson

Nothing more to add than what I wrote in my (super-long) detailed review on here. This is the case because I read it very recently. This is a novel about Anne Beauchamp 16th Countess of Warwick, it’s ranked higher than Sunne because though it’s less accurate it’s got panache.

7. The Sunne in Splendour by Sharon K Penman

I feel very strongly about this Richard III book and what it represents. I wrote a long detailed review about it on here and a follow-up post on the discussion is here ft my awesome mutual @beardofkamenev ‘s insights also thrown into the mix. Xx

8. The White Queen by Philippa Gregory

This is a step higher than the other two because this book pretty much changed my life. The thing is, I read it translated into my own language by an extremely talented translator and I was also only about 11/12 years old so it was all very impressive to me then. This book about Elizabeth Woodville effectively introduced me to the TWOTR; an interest that has never really left me these past ten years (though at one point (ages 14-19) it was quite wane). It’s not a good book by any standard (I was quite shocked when picking it up at a bookstore, I had found that when read in the original language it lost all its magic), but I owe a lot to it and some people who now endlessly discourse about how bad PG is need to recognise their debt of gratitude and be a bit more respectful, I think. That is of course unless you came into this era via different media, but you got to admit that a massive part of us got to this place through TWQ, though we outgrew it.

10. The Red Queen and The Kingmaker’s Daughter by Philippa Gregory

Exact same commentary as above, just objectively not good books. Flat characterisation, misunderstanding of the era, historical innacuracies which don’t add anything, lack of nuance in prose which often dances too close to *gasp* YA prose *shudders*. But these are lower because I don’t owe them a debt of gratitude as I do TWQ. Funnily enough, they are still better than the series.

#look at rb for tags

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