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maevemarethyu · 4 years

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Unexpected (4/?)

(Not my GIF)

You weren’t expecting it. Neither of you were.

That didn’t mean you weren’t happy with how it ended.

Bucky Barnes x Reader Fic.

Warning: Cursing, Cheapshots, a bit of violence, Sad Boi Hour and Fluff

Updated 1/20/2021

It was time. The stage was set. After two days of non-stop correspondence with James, who insisted you call him Bucky, he was knocking on your door for the second time.

“Hey!” You greet, not giving him a chance to respond before you wrap your arms around his torso in a tight hug. It takes him a few moments to return the sentiment but, when he does, you can’t help but notice that James Barnes gives excellent hugs. “Sorry, I get all touchy when I’m nervous”

“S’alright.” He chuckles and you can hear it deep in his chest when you pull away. “I just picked up the papers from Matt.”

“I hope he didn’t give you any trouble. He’s always been protective of me but, this whole thing has him on edge. He’s a nice guy, I swear.” You lead him past the neatly stacked boxes of Patrick’s things and into the kitchen.

“I believe it. I woke up this morning and almost everyone was in a disguise and set on following me here.” The mental image of Steve Rogers and Wanda Maximoff dressed in dark shades and baseball caps makes you laugh harder than it should have. You had never met them but, Bucky talked about his team so much that you felt as if you knew them. Sam Wilson had even gone out of his way to steal James’ phone and personally apologize for the part he played in this whole ordeal.

You barely had time to thank him for the role he played in it before he and James were wrestling over the device. It reminded you too much of you and a certain bullet proof man that had somehow become like a brother to you. The thought of having to tell the Defenders what happened kept you up all last night but, it didn’t compare to having to tell Frank.

“That would have been a sight.” A smirk grows on your face. “Is everything ready?”

Bucky nods. “Claire told me she was spending the day with her sister. Her sister’s in Louisiana right now.” You hum in response. Did Claire really think James was dumb enough to believe that?

“I told Patrick that I was taking Laysa to work with me today. Said I’d be home late.”

The stage was set. After two days of torture in the form of loving gazes and gentle kisses with your husband, the time had come; all you had to do was wait.

“Do you really think they’ll come here?”

Your plan hinged on it.

“If not, I’m tracking them down and shoving these papers down their throats. I can’t stomach another day pretending.” You huff and, as if he knew you were talking about him, your phone dinged.

A message from Patrick.

“Hey babe, you home?” You read aloud before scoffing and typing a reply. No, I told you I’m at work all day (sad face) I’ll be home around seven.

You send off the message and open your snack cabinet.

“So attentive.” Bucky drawls sarcastically. “Husband of the year.”

His voice was low and it sends an unwarranted shiver down your spine. If there was one thing you’d learnt about Bucky Barnes over the past few days was that he really didn’t know how attractive he was. It wasn’t just his looks either, it was his sense of humor, his chivalrous nature, the way he talked about his friends, the nicknames; he was a complete package.

You felt ashamed for thinking about him like that before you realized you didn’t have a reason not to… not anymore. You could look at other men with appreciative eyes for the first time in fifteen years. You’d never act upon anything but, the knowledge that you could was liberating to say the least.

“Do you like popcorn? I was thinking we could watch a movie while we wait.” You ramble on, microwaving the packet before he could answer. “Ever seen Heavyweights? It’s an older Disney movie about a weight loss camp that gets taken over by a health nut. I’m asking you to be polite but, we’re watching it. Laysa’s down for a nap, that girl can sleep for days.”

Another laugh then “Sure doll.”

He had learned quite few things about you himself. You were stubborn, almost as much as he was, you had a serious sweet tooth, you had an even wider range of music than Sam did, you had a soft spot for movies from the 90’s and 2000’s, and you were an amazing mom. The way you talked about Laysa made his chest warm.

Bucky always had a soft spot for kids but, he’d never cared so much about a kid he’s never even seen.

“Great! It’s already set up. All you have to do is press play.” You shoo him into the living room as you pour the popcorn into a bowl. For the perfect balance of sweet and salty, you also fish out a bag of M&M’s, pouring them into a separate bowl.

“Hey Buck! Do you want a drink?” You ask as if this was normal for the two of you. Nothing about this was normal but, you can’t help but feel as if this was the most natural thing in the world. James had already seen you at your absolute worst, you didn’t have to pretend around him and it was amazing.

He answers with a Water’s fine Sugar and your cheeks ache from the silly grin that takes over your face as you fill two glasses. Years of practice has you precariously yet perfectly balancing the dishes on your arms as you make your way into the living room.

Bucky jumps up from the couch to grab the bowls out of your hands, setting them on the table before taking a seat on the couch. You were thankful you had insisted on buying all the furniture in your home; the small L-shaped sectional was perfect for the times you had everyone over. You plop down onto it, directly across from James.

“The hell is skim milk?” He asks, face twisted into a frown when one of the characters mentions it.

“Milk with little to no fat. It’s pretty common nowadays.” You explain while grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“We definitely didn’t have that in my day.”

“Right, I always forget that you’re an old man.” The tease makes him perk up a bit and, with a wicked grin, he turns to face you on the sofa.

“You’re gonna want to take that back sweetheart.” He warns.

“What are you now? two-hundred and fifty something?”

You hadn’t spoken to anyone like this other than Matt and Foggy in years, it gave you a rush you hadn’t felt in a long time. The feeling of butterflies had become a distant memory but, they hit you full force when his blue eyes lock onto to yours. Not even the pillow that narrowly misses you is enough to dampen the feeling.

“I thought you were a sniper Sargent? You must’ve lost your touch in your old age.” The next pillow hits you square in the chest and a squeal escapes your mouth before you can stop it. Bastard.

“You were saying?” The smirk that grows on his face is almost too cocky but, still obnoxiously endearing.

You want to retaliate but, instead you stand up to grab the wayward pillow off of the floor. You had a feeling that if you started a war, it would end in something neither of you were ready for. With all the pillows back on the couch you allow yourself to be submersed in the movie, laughing at all the parts you’d seen a thousand times, silently thankful that James was as well.

As the hour gets later, the impending confrontation weighs on your mind heavily with your eyes straying to the door every couple of minutes in anticipation. Not even the bonfire party depicted on the screen was able to capture your full attention.

“That’s all he has?” James asks, nodding towards the boxes when he notices how distracted you are.

“Mhmm. I bought the house and all of the furniture myself. Apparently being a cop doesn’t pay all too well.” You mused whilst staring at the cardboard. Fifteen years of your relationship was packed away in between his shirts and pants: all the jewelry, save your wedding band, and all of your photos together had been tossed in with his things. You didn’t want any reminders of all the years you had wasted upon Patrick Voight.

“What do you do to afford a home in Manhattan? Is it a secret drug cartel? You can tell me, I won’t rat you out.” You knew he was trying to get you to laugh and it worked. The sound bubbling up from your chest and into the air before it dawns on you he didn’t know what you did for a living.

“I wish.” You sigh dramatically. “I’m-“ Your alarm going off cuts your sentence off, signifying that it was time to feed Laysa. “Actually, let me show you. Wait here!”

You abandon him in the living room while you open the nursery door. Laysa’s already awake and mewling up a storm as you bundle her in your arms. “Settle down beautiful.” You whisper. “I have someone I want you to meet.”

She quiets down long enough for you to walk back to the living room and see James nervously rubbing his palms on his pants, looking as if he were about to be sick. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was nervous.

“James- Sorry… Bucky meet Laysa.” You keep your voice low as to not startle her and you unwrap the blanket around her. He’s out of his seat and in front of you almost faster than you could blink. Once her face is uncovered, he gasps.

“Wha- I thought- What is she?” He stutters as he takes in her white fur spotted with black and arctic eyes just like his own. His mouth drops open in wonder when she squeaks.

“She’s a snow leopard cub. I’m a keeper at the Bronx Zoo as well as a zoologist and wildlife rehabilitator; her mother had twins but, Laysa got ill so she ignored her to focus on the healthier cub. It’s not all that uncommon in the wild and if this happened in their homeland of Siberia, Laysa wouldn’t have made it through the first night. She needed round the clock care and I already had the nursery set up from when I had to take in some macaws.” You explain, rubbing under the cub’s chin. “What did you think Laysa was?”

James’ cheeks redden at your question and you feel your own face heat up. He didn’t-

“I thought you had a baby.” He admits sheepishly before meeting your eyes. “This… isn’t what I was expecting.”

You can’t help but laugh as you grab his hand and place it on Laysa’s head. “If I had a child and found out Patrick was cheating on me, nothing on this planet would be able to save him.”

You meant it and you had the resources to follow through.

But, that wasn’t something James should know about just yet… or ever. Not when he looked so tender stroking the small cub.

“Can you hold her while I make her bottle?” Once again, you don’t wait for confirmation before handing her off to him and going to the kitchen to heat up her meal; enjoying the milk while you can. Soon enough she’s going to be on a raw meat diet and you were not looking forward to cutting up bloody deer and pig.

By the time you arrive back to the living room, James is sat on the couch, Layla settling onto his lap, both entranced by the television. You don’t think twice before snapping a picture to send to Sam later, sure that he’d love to poke fun at Barnes for going soft.

Though, soft isn’t a word you’d use to describe James Barnes. Quite the opposite actually. The man was a wall of rippling and glistening muscle. Muscle that had invaded what little sleep you had gotten since meeting him.

You didn’t mind it all too much as long as it kept Patrick off of your mind.

You take your seat opposite to the man, almost immediately being ambushed by a little ball of fur who had just seemed to notice the bottle in your hand. Laysa’s steps were stuttered and clumsy but, you saw them as progress, last week she could barely move.

“Look at you go!” You coo, scooping her up when she gets close and she eagerly takes the bottle. She really had done a complete three-sixty from when you first brought her home. You loved working with animals and you loved being able to watch them in their natural habitat from afar but, being able to hold and nurse them was incredible.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to the zoo before.” James voices before taking a drink and you let out an exaggerated gasp.

“That just won’t do.” You tsk, readjusting the bottle. “You should come when I go back to full time. You can even bring Steve; we have senior discounts.”

He glares at you playfully before setting his glass down and settling back onto the couch; back leaning against the armrest and legs sprawled out on the cushions. He looked more relaxed than he had the entire time you’d known him and it brings a warm smile to your face.

Laysa finishes her bottle and is asleep almost instantly; instead of putting her back in the nursery, you wrap her in a blanket and set her on the couch next to you.

“Y’know I told everyone you had a kid. Stevie almost hunted down Patrick himself when he found out, Nat had to stop him. Then, when you talked about how sick she was, Nat had to stop me from hunting him down.” He confesses, eyes never leaving the little bundle next to you.

“Good to know family means a lot to you superheroes.” You laugh quietly, eyes drifting from the screen to the figure laying across from you. “You’re going to have to wait in line behind Matt and Foggy though and that’s only if they get to him before Elle does.”

Yes, Elektra made it very clear that she’s first in line if Patrick tries something after today.

Barnes raises an eyebrow but says nothing as he grabs a handful of M&M’s, giving you an idea. You and Foggy used to do this during late night’s studying at Cambridge; after discovering Matt’s abilities you roped him into it too. Whenever any of you got too overwhelmed, it was tradition to have a movie night complete with the game.

“Hey, see if you can make one into my mouth. If you make it, you can either ask me a truth or to do a dare.” You prompt, mimicking his positioning by leaning against the back of the couch and bringing your feet up onto the cushions. “If you miss, it’s my turn.”

“You have to answer?” He clarifies, already settling into a suitable position and you nod giddily. Patrick never played the game with you; said it was childish and not worth his time. You found yourself comparing Bucky to Patrick a lot in the past few days. “Who’s first?”

Just as the Apache relay in the movie begins, so does your competition with the Avenger on your couch as you open your mouth expectantly. You realize your mistake as the first M&M falls into your mouth with ease. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t smart to ask an Avenger grade sniper to play your candy truth or dare game.

James doesn’t even try to hide his cocky grin. “What’s the worst dare you’ve had to do because of this game?”

Oh he was going straight for the jugular. Sadly, you didn’t have to think too hard. Matt and Foggy were a little fucked in the brain if you were being honest.

The drop of chocolate melts on your tongue and you hum in satisfaction before answering. “It’s a toss up between having to streak across campus naked and having to down half a bottle of tequila. Consequently those were on the same night so yeah.”

His blue eyes widen in shock and you try to play it off as no big deal with a shrug. That was definitely your most memorable college experience and one you hadn’t even told Patrick about because you were sure he would have had a conniption.

“Naked?! You ran across a campus naked?”

“Mhm. Cambridge was never the same after Foggy, Matt, and I went.”

He mouths the word Cambridge in disbelief before a smirk takes its place. “I guess I have no choice but to believe you.”

“Actually, I think Foggy still has a video of it. He planned on playing it at my wedding but, Matt and I vetoed the idea.”

You shuddered to think what would have happened if your two hundred plus guests had to witness your blurry and naked form dashing through the dark with Matt and Foggy’s laughter in the background. You mother probably would have dropped dead right there.

“That’s a wedding I would have paid to be at.” He laughs. “I didn’t even have a proper one. Claire wanted a courthouse.”

“I almost wish I had a courthouse ceremony.” You admit whilst grabbing a handful of chocolate. “I ended up having people I didn’t even know watching what was supposed to be the best day of my life. All I can remember from that day was thanking Patrick’s twice removed great step aunt for her attendance and that my dress was the most hideous thing I’d ever laid eyes on.”

With a roll of your eyes, you motion for him to open his mouth and he does so with a smirk. Unfortunately for you, your aim wasn’t as good as James’ or Matt’s and the piece of candy ends up smacking him in the cheek before falling only to be caught mid-air by a metal fist.

Show off.

You stick your tongue out in a childish form of retaliation and an incredulous laugh falls from the man’s lips. Embarrassment heats your face and you open your mouth reluctantly, signaling the continuation of the game in order to prevent a snarky comment from Barnes.

Once again the candy lands in your mouth effortlessly and you groan. You hear him clear his throat and you brace yourself.

“What’s your favorite kind of food?”

The game takes off from there with Barnes managing to make every candy but one into your mouth and asking you questions that can only be considered mildly invasive where as you had more candy on the floor than you did in your hand, only making two or three of your shots.

“What’s your favorite memory from before the war?” You ask and it clearly catches him off guard. You almost feel bad before remembering the reason for the game. It was to get to know each other beyond what was currently happening.

He tells you his favorite memory about Steve spending their train money on hot dogs and it has you laughing so hard that tears come to your eyes.

“Y-You spent how much on a stuffed animal?” You choke on a laugh as you try to catch your breath and soon enough, he’s laughing along with you, both of you oblivious to the door unlocking.

A candy pelts your shoulder and you retaliate with two thrown in his general direction, neither of which hit.

“I thought you’d be good at this doll. This is your game.” The way he chuckles send a shiver straight down your spine and you brush off the feeling by throwing a pillow at him which he catches easily. Anything to get to hear him laugh like that again. James had a nice laugh that came from his stomach and reverberated around you like his embrace from earlier.

“Oh my God.”

Yours and James’ heads snap towards the door where the two people you dreaded seeing were stood, mouths open and eyes wide in shock. Patrick and Claire were here and you and James had been too caught up in each other to notice. The thought made a smug and downright cruel smirk grow on your face which only widens when James walks to your side of the couch and offers his hand to help you stand.

You and James were a united front and it appeared that he wanted them to know it.

Your eyes abandon his blue ones and look towards Patrick. He was seething, you could see it in his eyes but, you could also see the fear. After all, he had just been caught with the Winter Soldier’s wife and James could snap him in half with his vibranium arm tied behind his back.

Despite the victorious feeling in your chest, you seem to be at a loss for words. You want to yell. To scream in their faces that they were caught and they were about to lose the best things to ever happen to them. Instead you scoff.

“About damn time you got here.” You scowl, picking up the stack of papers on the coffee table and handing the top one to the man beside you. He takes it with a poorly whispered Thanks sweetheart and you know it’s because he wants to get under Patrick and Claire’s skin.

It works.

“Y/N, baby w-what is this?” Patrick stutters next to a teary Claire who looks nothing less than ashamed. They were caught and they both knew it but, Patrick never was one to go down without a fight.

“This.” You motion between the minimal space between you and James, anger rising in your chest. “Is my good friend Bucky. You’d never guess how we met. When was it again?”

There’s a bite to your words that makes Claire wince and you want to throttle her. She didn’t get to act scared and sorry now. She sure as hell wasn’t scared or sorry when she was destroying her marriage and hurting the man who had vowed to love her for the rest of their lives.

Your eyes flicker to Bucky’s blue ones and underneath the anger, you could still see the sadness that was currently weighing your own heart down. You could read him like a book and you were both on the same page.

He pretends to think for a moment before answering. “Three days ago. I believe I ran all the way here after finding out the guy who my wife was cheating on me with had a wife of his own. I’d say we bonded pretty quickly. Shared life experience will do that.”

His words cut like a knife and you love it. All you had seen was James Barnes the gentleman, this was new and exciting. Dare you say, attractive even.

“B-Buck-“ Claire sobs and you can’t stop the scoff the leaves your throat. “It d-didn’t mean anything. I swear. I love you m-more than anything.”

Her words set something off in the man next to you and he growls; the sound shaking your very core. You hand finds his arm on its own vocation and, as calmly as you can, make your way towards the shell-shocked pair. Ignoring Patrick in favor of leveling a glare at the woman who tore your marriage, your life apart. Maybe it was petty of you but, you honestly didn’t see what either man saw in Claire. You were thoroughly unimpressed.

“If you loved him, this would have never happened.” You seethe, inches away from her face. “I’ve known him for seventy-two hours and I can already see that he is a kind, caring, selfless man who deserves much better than you. You’re pathetic. A sniveling little girl who isn’t a fraction of the woman he deserves. You’re a rat. My husband is a rat. And if you know what’s good for you, you’d save your bullshit apologies and words for your fucking lawyer.”

A firm grip on your arm causes you to gasp and turn towards your soon-to-be ex-husband but, as soon as you register his hand on you, it’s wretched away by sleek metal.

“You don’t get to touch her.” James warns, flinging Patrick to the floor in a heap. Without a second glance to him, he turns to Claire and forces the papers into her hands. You let your stack fall onto the man on the ground.

“Your shits packed Patrick. Take it and get the hell out of my house.” You mock in your bitchiest voice before looping an arm through James’. “I was thinking Thai tonight. Sound good?”

Patrick mumbles something under his breath and you just know it’s something snide; you want to shrug it off but, something deep in your gut wants to fight with him. Scream. Yell. Curse.

“What was that?” You ask in a sickly-sweet voice, daring him to repeat his words for all of you to hear. You know he will. He always rises to the bait.

“I said you’re a raging bitch.” He shuffles to his feet with a glare directed at you. Bucky bristles beside you and mumble for him to let it go. To let you handle it.

“If me throwing your lying ass out onto the streets means I’m a raging bitch, then I guess I am. But, I’d rather be a raging bitch than a washed up, dishonorably discharged, peaked in high school, disrespectful to his mother, wannabe Avenger, who can’t match his own fucking clothes.” The insults spew out of your mouth like dragon’s breath and it burns him with how calm you sound. You knew raising your voice would give him the satisfaction he craved so you held out.

“Do you wanna know why Y/N? Do you want to know why all of this happened?” You open your mouth to say no but, he keeps talking. “When I got dusted. My last thought was damn, I’m dead and I wasted half my life on an ugly cow who thinks she’s hot shit because she went to college!”

His words were like a slap in the face but, you’d rather die than let it show so, you force a laugh out of your lungs.

“I didn’t just go to college. I got two fucking Doctorates.” You seethe, gripping onto James’ arm for some kind of ground.

“Oh and I’m sure your parents would be very proud of you if they didn’t abandon you on the side of the road like trash!”

Whatever you were going to say next gets caught in your throat. You never spoke of your parents and Patrick knew that. He knew it was a line he was never supposed to cross. You’d kept your insecurities close to your chest; not even telling Matt, Foggy, or-

“Get out.” Your voice cracks and, when he doesn’t move, you end up yelling. “Get the fuck out!”

“And I’m sure they’d love to hear about you shacking up with a HYDRA assassin. You’ve been surrounded by scum all your life, why should I be surprised.”

“Patrick-“ Claire gasps yet, no one pays her any mind. She was background noise to the firefight between you and your husband. You almost feel guilty- this wasn’t just about you and Patrick; Bucky was supposed to get his time to confront Claire as well but, for some stupid reason, you hadn’t been expecting this.

You hadn’t expected the man you love to open your stitched wounds by shoving a hot knife into them. Suddenly, you stand up straight and before you realize it, your phone is in your hand.

Your birth parents may have abandoned you, your adoptive parents may have passed away, but you still had family. You still had him and you were a fool for thinking you shouldn’t rely on him.

The ringing doesn’t last a full second before the call connects and a raspy voice shoots the fear of god into your soon-to-be ex-husband. A god named Frank Castle.

“Yeah sis? E’vrything all right?” He grunts, probably in the middle of his daily workout. You had two choices; handle this like an adult or…

“Frankie?!” You sob dramatically with a truly wicked smile on your face. “H-He’s been cheating on me and-“

The phone cuts off as soon as the words leave your mouth and your eyes meet Patrick’s wide ones.

“You better start running baby.” You hiss. “Hope you have a good place to hide. I don’t think The Punisher is going to show the man who broke his baby sister’s heart much mercy.”

You hated the nickname but, it struck fear into the hearts of all who heard it. Beside you Bucky barks out a laugh.

Maybe not everyone.

Regardless, time is of the essence and Patrick knows it because he’s instantly scrambling. The way he trips over his own feet to take his meager possessions has you humming in satisfaction. Watching him panic makes you feel vindicated. He was going to pay for hurting you.

You knew the feeling was temporary, so you revel in it while you can.

“Leave your key. I want these papers signed and then I never want to see you again.” You order and the papers are signed and in your hand within minutes.

Without so much as a goodbye or sorry, he leaves. Abandoning you and the life you two had built together. Abandoning Claire to face you and James alone. A coward- through and through. How had you been so blind this whole time? This was who Patrick was- who he had been all your lives.

Fifteen years and he was able to just turn his back on it all. Leave like it didn’t matter.

Like you didn’t matter.

God, you wish it didn’t hurt as much as it did.

“The apartment’s yours.” Bucky voices after a moment of silence and a sharp laugh leaves your lips when Claire sobs. “I advise you apply for a transfer though. Natasha made it very clear what will happen if she sees you again.”

You watch as she reaches for him before her hand falters mid-air, consequently falling back to her side and tightening into a fist.

“You’re going to regret this.” She hisses even though tears are falling from her eyes. “You’re nothing without me.”

Your breath catches in your throat when Bucky stiffens next to you. This bitch…

“Without me all you are is a stupid, needy, little HYD-“

Your fist throbs instantly and it takes you a moment to realize what you had just done. Eyes wide, you stare at the red welt on Claire’s cheek, down to your fist, and up to James, who is looking back with eyes just as wide.

“Did you just punch me?!” She shrieks, both hands flying up to cover her cheek.

“Yeah.” You mumble after a beat of silence before clearing your throat. “I did and I want you out of my home before I give you a matching bruise on the other side as well.”

She sputters in disbelief before turning her eyes back to Bucky who, once he’s over his shock, just shrugs. “You heard her. We’re done here.”

With a stomp of her foot and a childish wail, she stalks out the door and you follow, slamming it after her.

Silence envelops the room and you’re acutely aware of Bucky’s eyes on you. Shuffling your feet, you garner the courage to look him in his eyes.

“That went well.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags: @luthien-t @vicmc624

#bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n

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• Be motivated like the falcon, hunt gloriously. Be magnificent as the leopard, fight to win. Spend less time with nightingales and peacocks. One is all talk, the other only color. – Rumi • British men are peacocks. You see a lot more style on the streets here than you see anywhere else, on every level. – Tom Ford • But why wasn’t I born, alas, in an age of Adjectives; why can one no longer write of silver-shedding Tears and moon-tailed Peacocks, of eloquent Death, of the Negro and star-enameled Night? – Logan Pearsall Smith • Dear Alec and Magnus, This is the first postcard of five. Don’t freak out or anything, but I need you to send me $150,000 to cover the cost of: 1) Two diamanté crowns 2) 20 peacocks 3) 300 chocolate lollipops in the shape of your heads 4) My dress 5) 500 lbs of glitter 6) One white horse (More to come in other cards) -Isabelle – Cassandra Clare Death, Stars, Writing • Dream tonight of peacock tails, Diamond fields and spouter whales. Ills are many, blessing few, But dreams tonight will shelter you. – Herman Melville • For all the feminist jabber about women being victimized by fashion, it is men who most suffer from conventions of dress. Every day, a woman can choose from an army of personae, femme to butch, and can cut or curl her hair or adorn herself with a staggering variety of artistic aids. But despite the Sixties experiments in peacock dress, no man can rise in the corporate world today, outside the entertainment industry, with long hair or makeup or purple velvet suits. – Camille Paglia • Genius and virtue are to be more often found clothed in gray than in peacock bright. – Van Wyck Brooks • Hansel is certainly about comfort, while still sort of having a peacock principle of wanting to attract attention. – Owen Wilson • He said that people who loved [animals] to excess were capable of the worst cruelties toward human beings. He said that dogs were not loyal but servile, that cats were opportunists and traitors, that peacocks were heralds of death, that macaws were simply decorative annoyances, that rabbits fomented greed, that monkeys carried the fever of lust, and that roosters were damned because they had been complicit in the three denials of Christ. – Gabriel Garcia Marquez • Here is a kitchen improvement, in return for Peacock. For roasting or basting a chicken, render down your fat or butter with cider: about a third cider. Let it come together slowly, till the smell of cider and the smell of fat are as one. This will enliven even a frozen chicken. – Sylvia Townsend Warner • How come it can’t fly no better than a chicken?’ Milkman asked. Too much tail. All that jewelry weighs it down. Like vanity. Can’t nobody fly with all that [stuff]. Wanna fly, you got to give up the [stuff] that weighs you down.’ The peacock jumped onto the hood of the Buick and once more spread its tail, sending the flashy Buick into oblivion. – Toni Morrison • I am Plato’s Republic. Mr. Simmons is Marcus. I want you to meet Jonathan Swift, the author of that evil political book, Gulliver’s Travels! And this other fellow is Charles Darwin, and-this one is Schopenhauer, and this one is Einstein, and this one here at my elbow is Mr. Albert Schweitzer, a very kind philosopher indeed. Here we all are, Montag. Aristophanes and Mahatma Gandhi and Gautama Buddha and Confucius and Thomas Love Peacock and Thomas Jefferson and Mr. Lincoln, if you please. We are also Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. – Ray Bradbury • I can live without it all – love with its blood pump, sex with its messy hungers, men with their peacock strutting, their silly sexual baggage, their wet tongues in my ear. – Erica Jong • I designed collections around whatever struck my fancy … fruits, vegetables, politics, or peacocks! – Lilly Pulitzer • I do not believe that any peacock envies another peacock his tail, because every peacock is persuaded that his own tail is the finest in the world. The consequence of this is that peacocks are peaceable birds. – John Ruskin • I don’t know if it’s animalistic or what, but men become like peacocks with their feathers up when women are around. – Bradley Cooper • I fear I must agree,” Magnus murmured. He pressed a hand over his heart and his new peacock-blue waistcoast. “I strive to find some respect in my heart for you, but alas! It seems an impossible quest. – Cassandra Clare • I just love the way the ’60s rock stars put themselves together, because they were like dandies and peacocks. They really lived out their fantasies – and dressed their fantasies. – Anna Sui • I know exactly how strong he is… He is like a peacock, spreading his feathers and squawking loudly to distract you from the back that his body is but weak.” -Jason to Mahiya – Nalini Singh • If a man knew anything, he would sit in a corner and be modest; but he is such an ignorant peacock, that he goes bustling up and down, and hits on extraordinary discoveries. – Ralph Waldo Emerson • If thou seest anything in thyself which may make thee proud, look a little further and thou shalt find enough to humble thee; if thou be wise, view the peacock’s feathers with his feet, and weigh thy best parts with thy imperfections. – Francis Quarles • If you get bored of doing it (Peacock Pose) with two hands, try it with one. – Dharma Mittra • It dances today, my heart, like a peacock it dances, it dances. It sports a mosaic of passions like a peacock’s tail, It soars to the sky with delight, it quests, Oh wildly, it dances today, my heart, like a peacock it dances. – Rabindranath Tagore • It is reported of the peacock that priding himself in his gay feathers he ruffles them up; but spying his black feet he soon lets fall his plumes. So he that glories in his gifts and adornings should look upon his corruptions, and that will damp his high thoughts. – Anne Bradstreet • It’s an awful stretcher to believe that a peacock’s tail was thus formed but … most people just don’t get it – I must be a very bad explainer – Charles Darwin • Le geai pare des plumes du paon. A bluejay in peacock feathers. – Jean de La Fontaine • Let me drive,” she said, reaching for the reins. He turned to her in disbelief. “This is a phaeton, not a single-horse wagon.” Sophie fought the urge to throttle him. His nose was running, his eyes were red, he couldn’t stop coughing, and still he found the energy to act like an arrogant peacock. “I assure you,” she said slowly, “that I know how to drive a team of horses. – Julia Quinn • Maggie threw her head back and laughed. ‘So you’re going to try…what? Birds of a Feather?’ she quested. ‘Of course not,’ Kat said. ‘Everyone knows the French government banned the importation of peacocks in 1987. – Ally Carter • Many a peacock hides his peacock tail from all eyes–and calls it his pride. – Friedrich Nietzsche • Men’s clothes are becoming kind of mod. They’re becoming more colorful and more flamboyant, and the male peacock is beginning to show his true plumage. – Liberace • Music really influenced me when I was growing up. I did go through a Jimi Hendrix phase. My hair was naturally quite afro, and I wore low-slung jeans with very high heels. Siouxsie and the Banshees had a lot to answer for. I was in a top hat with peacock feathers and thigh-high black boots. I was 17 — old enough to know better. – Helen McCrory • My heart is like a singing bird Whose nest is in a water’d shoot; My heart is like an apple-tree Whose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit; My heart is like a rainbow shell That paddles in a halcyon sea; My heart is gladder than all these, Because my love is come to me. Raise me a daïs of silk and down; Hang it with vair and purple dyes; Carve it in doves and pomegranates, And peacocks with a hundred eyes; Work it in gold and silver grapes, In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys; Because the birthday of my life Is come, my love is come to me. – Christina Rossetti • My philosophy on what makeup is…it’s very different from what a woman’s is. Makeup came from a very psychological place – of the peacock. – Jeremy Renner • News is history shot on the wing. The huntsmen from the Fourth Estate seek to bag only the peacock or the eagle of the swifting day. – Gene Fowler • Only you could love such a vile, selfish peacock, Evie. – Lisa Kleypas Paradise, Way, Satan • Patterns drawn in ultraviolet might make those ordinary little petals into the exotic peacocks of the botanical world, and yet we cannot appreciate them. – Victoria Finlay • Peacock bass like to hide at ambush points, away from the strong canal currents. If you fish early and know those peacock hangouts, you will have little or no trouble catching peacocks on lures and live bait. – Mark Hall • Peacocks have the bright feathers. Fish have the long tails. Women have the mall. – Janette Rallison • People are crying up the rich and variegated plumage of the peacock, and he is himself blushing at the sight of his ugly feet. – Saadi • Play not the Peacock, looking everywhere about you, to see if you be well deck’t. – George Washington • Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir, Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine, With a cargo of ivory, And apes and peacocks, Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine. – John Masefield • Recently, while I was in England, I saw a documentary on the BBC about the border between India and Pakistan at Wagah. When the border closes each evening around six o’ clock, the soldiers on each side do these amazing high-stepping peacock march-offs (like a dance-off). The displays are almost identical on each side and thousands gather to watch them. Though they’re patrolling along their separate borders, what comes across is how similar they are. – Matthea Harvey • Ruin, weariness, death, perpetually death, stand grimly to confront the other presence of Elizabethan drama which is life: life compact of frigates, fir trees and ivory, of dolphins and the juice of July flowers, of the milk of unicorns and panthers’ breath, of ropes of pearl, brains of peacocks and Cretan wine. – Virginia Woolf • She is a peacock in everything but beauty! – Oscar Wilde • Simple DNA gradually morphed and evolved, so that you had the coming into being of ever more complex and diverse creatures, until one day you wake up and find there are peacocks and giraffes. Nature is an open-ended experiment based on morphing a DNA code, and ours is an open-ended experiment based on morphing a crochet code. – Margaret Wertheim • Skaters are very much like peacocks. – Jon Heder • Tell me about this Wizard Howl of yours.” “He’s the best wizard in Ingary or anywhere else. If he’d only had time, he would have defeated that djinn. And he’s sly and selfish and vain as a peacock and cowardly, and you can’t pin him down to anything.” “Indeed? Strange that you should speak so proudly such a list of vices, most loving of ladies.” “What do you mean, vices? I was just describing Howl. He comes from another world entirely, you know, called Wales, and I refuse to believe he’s dead! – Diana Wynne Jones • The Italians are fond of red clothes, peacock plumes, and embroidery; and I remember one rainy morning in the city of Palermo, the street was ablaze with scarlet umbrellas. – Ralph Waldo Emerson • The Italians have voices like peacocks – German gives me a cold in the head – and Russian is nothing but sneezing – Edward Bulwer-Lytton, 1st Baron Lytton • The masculine imagination lives in a state of perpetual revolt against the limitations of human life. In theological terms, one might say that all men, left to themselves, become gnostics. They may swagger like peacocks, but in their heart of hearts they all think sex an indignity and wish they could beget themselves on themselves. Hence the aggressive hostility toward women so manifest in most club-car stories. – W. H. Auden • The peacock in all his pride does not display half the colors that appear in the garments of a British lady when she is dressed. – Joseph Addison • The pride of the peacock is the glory of God. – William Blake • The pride of the peacock is the glory of God. The lust of the goat is the bounty of God. The wrath of the lion is the wisdom of God. The nakedness of woman is the work of God. – William Blake • The sparrow is sorry for the peacock at the burden of its tail. – Rabindranath Tagore • The sun fades like the spreading Of a peacock’s tail, as though twilight Might be read as a warning to those desperate For easy solutions.- John – Ashbery • The thing you fail to grasp is that people are not basically good. We are basically selfish. We shove and clamour and cry for adoration, and beat down everyone else to get it. Life is a competition of prattling peacocks enraptured in inane mating rituals. But for all our effacing and self-importance, we are all slaves to what we fear most. You have so very much to learn. Here. Let me teach you. – Christopher Nolan • There are eight different breeds of peacock. I have them all. – Bidzina Ivanishvili • There are no preconditions for jealousy. You don’t have to be right, you don’t have to be reasonable. Take Othello. He was neither right nor reasonable, and Desdemona ended up dead. I wouldn’t mind Leanne ending up dead. I wouldn’t mind exploding her into fireworks of peacock and pearl. – Franny Billingsley • To frame the little animal, provide All the gay hues that wait on female pride: Let Nature guide thee; sometimes golden wire The shining bellies of the fly require; The peacock’s plumes thy tackle must not fail, Nor the dear purchase of the sable’s tail. – John Gay • To Paradise, the Arabs say, Satan could never find the way Until the peacock led him in. – Charles Godfrey Leland • Turkeys are peacocks that have really let themselves go. – Kristen Schaal • We ask ourselves all kinds of questions, such as why does a peacock have such beautiful feathers, and we may answer that he needs the feathers to impress a female peacock, but then we ask ourselves, and why is there a peacock? And then we ask, why is there anything living? And then we ask, why is there anything at all? And if you tell some advocate of scientism that the answer is a secret, he will go white hot and write a book. But it is a secret. And the experience of living with the secret and thinking about it is in itself a kind of faith. – Vaclav Havel • We may put too high a premium on speech from platform and pulpit, at the bar and in the legislative hall, and pay dear for the whistle of our endless harangues. England and especially Germany, are less loquacious, and attend more to business. We let the eagle, and perhaps too often the peacock, scream. – Bill Vaughan • When the peacock has presented his back, the spectator will usually begin to walk around him to get a front view; but the peacock will continue to turn so that no front view is possible. The thing to do then is to stand still and wait until it pleases him to turn. When it suits him, the peacock will face you. Then you will see in a green-bronze arch around him a galaxy of gazing, haloed suns. – Flannery O’Connor • Who cares what a man’s style is, so it is intelligible,–as intelligible as his thought. Literally and really, the style is no more than the stylus, the pen he writes with; and it is not worth scraping and polishing, and gilding, unless it will write his thoughts the better for it. It is something for use, and not to look at. The question for us is, not whether Pope had a fine style, wrote with a peacock’s feather, but whether he uttered useful thoughts. – Henry David Thoreau • Women are a source of energy in life. I’ve always wanted to be in a war or baseball movie, but the thought of having no women on set for six months – that’s hell. I don’t know if it’s animalistic or what, but men become like peacocks with their feathers up when women are around. – Bradley Cooper

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equitiesstocks · 5 years

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Peacock Quotes

Official Website: Peacock Quotes

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