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texshire-books · 3 months ago

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Coming soon - Sycamore Cottage, a tale of romance, murder and the paranormal

Daisy

I’m walking along a long, deserted beach at Broad Haven, that to those who are unfamiliar with this particular part of Wales is along the rugged and beautiful coastline of Pembrokeshire. I’m holding hands with my partner Nadia my best friend and lover. We do this every day, together with my dog who is currently annoying crabs in a rock pool. We do this every day, rain or shine. It’s become a way of life and for ex Londoners it was quite a culture shock and something that took a while to get used to. We’re not alone, I’ve just passed my dad Tim’s house, he saw us, came to the door and waved. He is married to Carol. He escaped from the rat race too.

I’d just spoken to a guy called Greg. Paul, a guy I had known through transitioning when I lived in London, had made contact through his sources. Paul had an amazing story to tell but had suggested I contacted a Greg James who could better tell it himself. He was on the road, travelling home and I was expecting his call anytime now.

‘Ever been to Scarborough?’ I asked Nadia.

‘I’ve let my passport lapse.’ She replied.

‘No, you haven’t, you were sunning your backside in Greece last year and we’ve got another holiday booked in Spain – you haven’t really, have you?’ I asked alarmed. Getting passports renewed took for ever and I didn’t want a last-minute panic to arise.

‘Perhaps I should have just said no!’ I was puzzled now; Nadia could be like that.

‘Was that no, you haven’t let it lapse or you don’t know where Scarborough is?’

‘Both!’ I was still none the wiser.

‘You do know where Yorkshire is – yes?’ I went back to basics.

‘I hope so, I was born there.’ I never knew that.

‘Really where in Yorkshire?’ I decided to ask.

‘An enclave of Pakistan called Bradford, or a little way outside.’

‘When did you move to London?’

‘When I was about 3, I don’t remember too much.’ I couldn’t recall too much at that age either. I quickly remembered the rows at home between my parents, well, my nasty evil bitch of a mother anyway!’ I could never forget that. ‘I guess we’d better head back, those clouds don’t look great, we could get soaked and then I’d have the chore of taking all your wet clothes off.’ Nadia bumped into me, a barging movement she did for fun, to get my attention.

‘Sorry, I know I create a lot of extra work for you.’ We turned; I called the dog who was miles away in the distance. He came bounding back just as my phone rang.

‘Hello, Daisy speaking.’ I answered quickly.

‘It’s Greg James, we spoke briefly earlier.’ He replied.

‘Hello Greg James, Paul tells me you have quite a tale to tell.’ I replied.

‘It’s a very serious tale, it’s complex too.’

‘Aren’t all the best tales? That’s my experience anyway, fire away, give me a brief outline at least.’ For the next ten minutes I listened avidly to a chilling story. Unlike so many I’d heard this one was very current and certainly active.

‘So, Sibyl is missing in every respect, her physical remains as well those spiritual. Have you any thoughts where she might be found?’ I asked.

‘My guess is she returned to her house and she’s in there. Poppy could go inside and check but it’s twenty miles away. I sense the police are at the house still searching and the lakes where I just know her body will be is just a few miles away. I haven’t even got a car right now, having just handed mine back.’ Greg replied.

‘It’s probably not wise for you to be seen near the house now but at least once you have your own transportation you won’t have this Clancy arsehole tracking your every move.’ I wasn’t frightened to put my own graphic description to a man who by any measure was beyond evil.

‘I’ll make a few calls, see if I can find a good deal, it’s getting to see the car that is the main challenge.’ He added.

‘Maybe I can help there, that’s if you can wait a few hours.’ I suggested.

‘How, from all accounts you are about as far distance west to east as north to south - John O’Groats to Lands End?’ He made an interesting observation I hadn’t even considered. Broad Haven on the Pembrokeshire coast of Wales to Scarborough was a jaunt.

‘In that case, it’s best we get on the road as soon as possible.’

‘Really, that must be 400 miles, that’s quite a trek.’ Greg starkly described the challenging journey which was a mixture of road systems.

‘382 actually Greg, I’ve already checked from here to Scarborough. Once I get to Swansea, it’s pretty much motorway standard to York and I’ve actually been to Scarborough, so I know the road onwards to there is pretty good too. 7 hours Greg.’

‘You said we, that suggests you won’t be alone.’ He queried. Here was a man who picked up on details. I liked that. It suggested he’d be a good sounding board for challenges to come.

‘I’ll be bringing Nadia; we are joined at the hip. I only found out a few minutes ago she was born in Bradford, not too far from you.’

‘That might present a slight problem?’ He queried.

‘Why?’ My turn to query.

‘I’ve only got one bed.’

‘What are you suggesting Greg. I hardly know you. It is a bit early for a threesome!’

‘Oh god no, I wasn’t suggesting anything untoward!’ I could hear the embarrassment in his voice.

‘Relax, I’m joking, besides even if we did all sleep together nothing remotely like that could ever take place.’ I wondered if he’d cottoned on to Nadia and our sexual preferences. His reply suggested he did.

‘So, you and Nadia…...?’ He left me to join up the dots.

‘Yes Greg, we are a couple. Don’t worry about the sleeping arrangements, we’ll manage.

‘Okay, I’ll expect you when I see you. I live in Wenbury, you’ll know you’re in the right village because when you arrive, everyone will be out on their doorsteps watching and when you head towards Sycamore Cottage, which is the first cottage you see on your right when you enter, they will all go into a frenzy of panic because it’s haunted, apparently! You might even have an audience with Doris the village gossip and soothsayer, and her predictions are usually dire!’ The call ended there; we had continued walking while I was on the phone, and I could see our home just ahead as spots of rain started before what seemed like a likely deluge. We’d just pack a bag of things to last a few days and then; after dropping the dog off at my dad’s, we would get on the road and head east.

We took turns to drive. While motorways were fast and ate the miles, they were boringly monotonous. We drove just 90 miles before our first break which included a trip to the ladies! Refreshed and comfortable in other ways, we ploughed on. I’d taken the first stint, now Nadia had her turn behind the wheel. I loved to look at her. Her delicate Dresden china features enhanced her Asian heritage. I remember how we met, the trauma she suffered in her home life, especially after she was raped on a night out her father, a strict Muslim had predicted would be her fate. I told you so was rammed into her, and she later took her own life. This made returning difficult, and an added complication arose because her own transition back to life, came about by grasping her donor’s hand without consent. That donor, a perfect match as it was her father! Nadia had inadvertently taken her mother’s life too by embracing her, a mother relieved to be gone from a life of violence and drudgery, created by an abusive marriage. Incredibly her mother now lived in the same community as Paul frequented and his story was just as unique as Nadia’s.

We were just past Newport on the M4, we’d soon hit the Almondsbury interchange, where drivers had a choice of straight on towards London, south to Devon and Cornwall or as we were heading North to Birmingham and beyond. There was a remarkable Gloucester services ahead which was far more than somewhere to refuel and stop for refreshments, to rest up. Enterprising locals had created a location which sold local produce and people traveled for miles just for that reason alone. Our need to stop was almost now a minor event. I just hoped we didn’t have to queue or even worse, not get in at all.

We didn’t stay long. Nadia looked tired so rather than sit inside, after our natural break, we took coffee and a baguette back to the car and consumed it there.

‘I feel bushed, I’m glad you’re doing the next part.’ Nadia remarked, we’d finished, and I had just returned from dumping our finished polystyrene cups and plastic wrapping in the waste bin.

‘Close your eyes sweetheart, I love glancing over while you sleep.’ I did, I often grabbed those almost instant snapshots of her sleeping, sometimes, when I could see her deep in thought. Taking my eyes off the road just for the briefest of moments but returning them with that image now embedded in my brain as well as my heart. We hadn’t always been this close. I’d met Nadia cowering in a shop doorway, a ghostly figure I could see while everyone walking past, going about their day-to-day business, could not. She had four violent controlling brothers whom she feared would kill her for dishonouring her family. Her father had entered an agreement for her to marry a man she’d never met. Money and property carried more weight than love. Such emotions didn’t enter her father’s thinking. Then she got raped, the men who did it suffering retribution dished out by her brothers. Going to the police was unthinkable, her father not willing to consider for an instant the stain on his family resulting from an investigation which would have made the news locally. Instead, Nadia found she was to be shipped back to Pakistan as damaged goods. Married to some smelly bag of rags with a lice infested beard. Put amongst other women he owned to scrub and clean and provide sexual gratification as a bonus. She’d said she’d rather die than submit to that and thus she was found unconscious somewhere she’d chosen as a final act of rebellion. A Christian graveyard clutching a carved stone cross an overdose of barbiturate in her system. Incredibly when police had arrived at the house to break the news of her death, her father, the main and only spokesperson of the family said there had been a mistake. His daughter had left the country, returned to Pakistan to marry, so her body was not claimed, and she was disposed of.

My own family life was little better, although thankfully not violent as was the case with Nadia. My home and family life was akin to a war zone. My father Tim having married my mother Angela who was a nasty, scheming, evil bitch who constantly baited and humiliated him. I had three siblings with just one of similar age to me. I soon found myself picked on, isolated from a sister and two brothers because I was different. I had a gift nobody else I knew had. I could see ghosts. We actually had one living with us, Carol. Amazingly, incredibly she knew Paul who later became a key figure in my life. How Carol knew Paul was even more amazing. He’d caused her death on a busy London street by bringing her off the cycle she was riding which in turn threw her under the wheels of a big 4x4 Chelsea tractor. Then, everything came to light when my father Tim didn’t come home one night. He’d been out playing golf. Then, the next morning his car was brought back to the house on a low loader. If that wasn’t unusual him returning was. That was later when the whole family was gathered, a grabbing exercise with my mother there as its main, greedy and grasping centrepiece. My father had died on a golf course; he had returned by sitting in the driver seat being transported back to the house in his car, strapped to the low loader. He was now in the room where this ugly, unseemly bun fight was taking place. I walked in with my elder sister and saw my father. I didn’t scream, but my shock was evident when I rushed out. My action providing more ammunition for Angela to suggest I was mentally disturbed and needed to be put away. That moment was really when I finally got introduced to Carol, our long-term house ghost, to whom my dad is now solidly married. I’d known of Carol since I was 5, possibly even younger. So, ghosts never frightened me. They were no threat. The only risk I ever had would result from the actions of people like my mother who merely labelled people like me, people who could see and communicate with ghosts as barking mad!

I’d really given the car a workout, Nadia was still out for the count, but the journey was taking its toll on me. I stopped at Ferrybridge services on the A1M and called Greg while I sent Nadia in for coffee to keep me awake.

‘Hi Daisy, how’s it going?’

‘Well Greg we are in West Yorkshire, Ferrybridge Services to be precise.’ I heard surprise in his voice.

‘Wow, that is some going, are you okay?’

‘Yes, I’m totally knackered if that is possible for a woman!’ I replied. ‘I’ve had my foot down all the way since our first stop. Outside lane, headlights on all the way.’ I saw Nadia heading back. ‘Nadia will do the next section. It should be our last, another hour and a half tops. Do you want to pre-warn the neighbours?’ I asked laughing. Nadia was back and she took her seat beside me.

‘I’ve just seen on the news. Police divers are at the lake. I guess we will soon find out if my hunch is correct. Hopefully if it is, Ruben Clancy will have some awkward questions to answer.’ I wondered.

‘We can hope Greg, but the way things work in this world, and the bastard we are dealing with here, it’s more than possible you might be in the firing line too.’ There was silence on the end of the line briefly.

‘Really, you think so?’

‘Yes, Greg I do. From those final words of his, you described, I think he could turn it all back onto you. I’d think about how you might answer those questions, should they arise.’ We didn’t continue our conversation. I finished the call and headed off to the services. Coffee tended to go straight through me, and I needed the loo before we continued. When i returned Nadia was seated high up in my Range Rover belted up ready to go and with twilight approaching and our lights turned on, we headed north.

#lgbtromance #lovers #romance books #love story #crime and mystery #paranormal #ghost stories

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vamosaespana · 4 months ago

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Travel Day

Today we take the train as we say goodbye to Barcelona and hello to Madrid and Seville.

GB surprised me with an adventure…we had an hour layover in Zaragoza so that I could see the Basilica of Our lady of the Pilar. I just about died! I had heard about this Basílica from one of my podcasts. It is the site of the very first Marian apparition. The Virgin Mary appeared to St. James atop a pilar. The amazing thing was that she was still alive in Jerusalem when she appeared to St. James in Spain. She asked him to build a church there and today there stands a beautiful Basilica as she had asked. Since then it has gone through fires and wars and has even been added onto as well. Apparently 2 bombs were dropped on it and fell through the ceiling but never went off. Today they are supposedly in the museum in the Basilica. When I heard of this place I looked it up and it’s about a 3.5 hour drive from Barcelona and out of our way completely from our trip. I mentioned it to GB but realizing what an inconvenience it was I set it aside. I didn’t want to have to drag us so out of our way for a prayer and to visit the site. Friends of mine kept asking but I really was just happy to even be in the same country as this apparition. Well GB had been trying to make this work and added an extra stop to our train ride that really didn’t change anything with our stop and tour in Madrid. Once he announced what I was doing, I was all over the research. The only trick is that the Basilica was 15 minutes from the train station and our layover was only for 1 hour before we hopped on the train to Madrid. GB said he would stay behind with the luggage while I went. 2 decided to join me as well which I was shocked but so happy for her company.

When we arrived, we got all the luggage off the train and made sure GB was good to go. That’s when 2 and I made a mad dash for the taxi lane. We arrived in our taxi and told him where we wanted to go. I told him we would pay for him to wait for us while we went inside and then would quickly leave again back for the train station. He agreed…yes done deal…even better it only took about 10 minutes to get there. Yes, just saved an extra 5 minutes and maybe can squeeze in one more prayer…goodness knows we need it 😇 He asks us how long we are in Zaragoza and I literally explain that my husband arranged this extra stop for 1 hour to make sure I could see the Basilica. He looks at me like I’m crazy…yes sir…yes sir I am!

After knowing the story it was so cool to see the river Ebro and where it all took place knowing these amazing people walked the same path we were walking today! We arrived at the basilica which was absolutely gorgeous. We pull up to the gates and he tells us where to go. He then says he can’t sit here and wait for us 😒 Are you for real dude??? We discussed this and you said it would work out. We exchange words (kindly I might add with a smile) but he just shrugs his shoulders at me. I ask him if he thinks it will be easy to get another taxi…another shoulder shrug but this time he does say “maybe” 😑😑 At this point we are here and I don’t have time to waste. I pay him and say thank you and put this one on the big guy upstairs that it will all work out. 2 and I run to the main doors and head in. No photos were taken but honestly it will all be forever ingrained in my head. White marble from the ceiling down. And in the center of the huge basilica is a chapel dedicated to Our Lady of the Pilar with her statue up on a pillar. Apparently she wears a mantle of different colors in different days but on the 2nd day of the month she wears no mantle and you can see the image in its own beauty. 2 and I had our time for prayer and then headed over where you could touch the actual pillar that the Virgin Mary appeared on. More prayers were said and then we headed off. Honestly we probably spent about 10 minutes in there but I definitely could have been there for 10 hours. We made a quick stop at the gift shop and then we were out getting to the street to hail our cab. It took a bit but we found one and had 15 minutes to get to the station. Cutting it close as I knew we were 10 minutes away but not sure how security was going to be. Luckily GB sent me the tickets via WhatsApp so we just needed to get there. Whenever I’m close on time the longer it feels. It felt like we hit every red light possible and our driver was doing his best to get there as soon as he could. We pull up with 7 minutes to spare. I pay him and say a million thank yous and then we book it. We threw our things through the security reader and ran to the train…WE MADE IT!!!! We tell our story to the fam and then proceed to wait 15 minutes because our train was late😓 Jokes on us I guess. I now feel slightly bad running through the train station like a mad woman but then I think I won’t ever see these people again…so I just shrug it off. It all worked out and I will be forever grateful for what GB planned for me💕

Our train finally arrives and we board. We are kind of the odd mans out here as most have small luggage and here we are 4 large suitcases lugging ourselves along 🤭 We get settled in for the ride to Madrid. We tried to get snacks but the machine wasn’t working for me so blood sugar was starting to dip a bit…concerning slightly but hoping we can trudge through. GB had arranged for a guide to lead us through Madrid for the 2.5 hour layover we had in Madrid. We meet her as we exit and she takes us to her driver and passenger van for our excursion. Time to be royal and head to the Royal Palace in Madrid. She was an excellent guide! She spoke English very well and was very knowledgeable about everything about the palace and Madrid. I will admit I knew nothing going in and now I feel much more learned. Hoping the kids feel the same way and at least remember a couple things she taught us🤞🏼 We saw pictures of the royal family and of the princess that will become Queen. She’s currently 18 and serving in the army. She will then serve in the Navy and then head to the university to finish school. The thought of that life is so overwhelming to me. The responsibility she has currently and will have in the future and to me she’s just a baby of 18. So crazy….definitely not what I was thinking of when I was 18�� After the tour of the palace, we head back to the van where we get a driving tour of the rest of Madrid. So many influences in architecture…it always makes me think how young our country is compared to Europe. I enjoy the beauty of what we have in the US but to look at beautiful architecture and buildings that were created by hand from so long ago is just insane!

We arrive back at the train station with one hour to get settled. There is a place for snacks and drinks so we have a bit of time to get something in our bellies.

Now I would like to say that we are amazing travelers and each pit stop has gone though without a problem but I would be lying 🤥 Every connection has always had a hiccup one way or another. I am more the one of trying to understand what is going on before freaking out. I feel GB is kind of the opposite. He gets upset easily with this heavily influenced by heat and low blood sugar. This is where I learned that I, myself, would never survive the amazing race with my husband. I love the man dearly but we just would not mesh and instead would be the couple that everyone wants to watch to see what happens next 🫣 This episode of “making the connection” was highlighted by mad dashing to the train even though we were early but apparently when one person dashes the mob dashes…so we in turn made dash 😩 We were in line with everyone else but they opened up another section so that the line would not be so long and help everyone move quicker. Well we decided to take advantage of this and I check with the attendant and they confirm this will get us on our train. When we start moving down the escalator after getting our tickets checked, GB started losing his mind that we were on the wrong platform before realizing that there was a turn around that would send us to our proper platform. It’s times like that I just take a deep breath and try to calm down things but of course sometimes that isn’t taken in the right way. But once we get on the train and settled in our seats, body temps AND emotional temps calm down and then everything is ok and we can continue on our trip acting like a somewhat “normal” family 🤷🏻‍♀️

This leg is the longest leg from Madrid to Seville (Sevilla for the Spanish folk reading this 😁) We are served drinks and a dinner on this leg and all of us are famished. We were provided a ham and cheese sandwich, a cod sandwich 🤨, a piece of cake like a Danish and a small piece of dark chocolate. Libby and I are sitting next to one another and I know that girl is not eating a cod sandwich 🫤 so I swap my ham and cheese for her cod and she scarfs it down like nobody’s business. While behind us, 2 is flipping out as she took a bite out of the cod sandwich thinking it was a mayo sandwich. Apparently GB knew what it was and didn’t say anything just to see her reaction. So he’s dying next to her as she’s losing her mind that she just ate fish. I had to face forward so as not to see her dying in the back🤣🤣🤣 And of course there is 1 just riding in his solo seat minding his own business just eating what’s in front of him…such different personalities🥸

We enjoy the rest of our train ride pretty much everyone happy…1 just keeps on keeping on, 2 has recovered from her harrowing experience and is back to watching her downloads, 3 is just chilling next to me on her iPad and GB is scrolling through his memes to see if there are any he hasn’t seen yet 🤦🏻‍♀️ Now moms…this is where we all settle in and enjoy this moment not knowing how long it will last but praying it lasts longer than 5 minutes. Ladies…it was a heavenly 60 minutes where I just dozed and that was amazing 🤩

We arrive at Seville and we grab our bags ready to head to our house. We load into two taxis and reach our destination greeted by our homeowner waiting at he door with her son. Now if anyone is ever going to Seville you are staying in this house!!! It is absolutely gorgeous!!!! The main floor has a sitting room and a big kitchen. Then you take the stairs up to the second floor where there are 4 bedrooms including the master with a master bath and a second bath for the 3 other rooms. Then you proceed up to the third floor where there is another large bedroom with a kitchen and it’s own bath. That floor then opens up to the patio with jacuzzi, lounging chairs, a large eat in area and grill. The patio is covered with awnings that are adjustable to let sun in as much as you wish or leave them covered and enjoy the shade. And our owner couldn’t be any nicer. She walked through the house to show us everything and then took the time to go over the layout of the city. She pointed out great places to eat that the locals enjoy and little things to do around the city. She explained how there used to be a wall built around the entire city and there were certain gate access for particular items such as gold and bronze or the gate opened to a road that lead to the city of Cordoba. Taking the time to help us and offer advice/suggestions on what to do really was a nice touch not to mention her house was beautiful. So far no complaints from this peanut gallery🙂 After she left, each kid picked their room and got settled and then we took off for some food. We chose a place literally right around the corner from our place…as much as I wanted to try those places she recommended who was I kidding everyone was starving and tired. We were literally the only ones in the place and we had the waiter/owner all to ourselves. GBs go-tos are croquettes, jamón ibérico and papitas bravas…as long as those are on the menu he’s good to go. 1 and I have definitely turned out to be the more adventurous ones with picking food…don’t want to say we are the best…but 🤫🤭 We ate way more than we should have and rolled ourselves back home. Tomorrow we tour Seville so to bed with everyone. All electronics are charged on the first floor to make sure no one was distracted from their sleep…we need everyone sharp and ready in the morning for all the walking we will be doing!

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terubakudan · 3 years ago

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This may be an old article from 3 years ago, but these cultural aspects/observations still apply even today. And though this is strictly a Chinese perspective, a lot of these everyday life bits are observed in Overseas Chinese communities in countries such as The Philippines, Malaysia, Indonesia, etc. as well as countries heavily influenced by Chinese culture like Taiwan, Japan, and Korea.

I've always liked learning about other cultures and making comparisons between how things are done East vs West. Which probably stems from growing up with two cultures and Mom raising me on American movies xD

So the irony is if you asked me how many Chinese, Taiwanese, or Hong Kong actors I know, chances are I know as much as you do xD Like Jackie Chan, Andy Lau, and that's about it. But if you asked me about Western (specifically American and British) actors, then I have a useless brain dump of movie trivia and who was with who in what movie xD

Hmmm, both Taiwan and the Philippines are two distinct cultures but both look up to a certain country and are fascinated by that. In Taiwan's case, Japan and the US for the Philippines. In both cases, this is due to being under the rule of those countries in their history. Taiwan being under Japan for 50 years, and the Philippines being under Spain for 300+ years, followed by periods of American and Japanese rule. To put it simply though:

Taiwan is "mini-Japan with a very Chinese culture".

The Philippines is "former colony of Spain with lots of American influences".

But unlike the author, I've never set foot in any Western country, so my understandings are strictly what I've observed in media, which while it can be accurate, doesn't compare to actually experiencing the culture.

Some further elaboration on most points:

#1 We quite literally use chopsticks for everything. We use it to pick rice, viands, vegetables, fruit, smaller desserts, almost all the food you can think of.

But where do you put your chopsticks when you're not using them? Just put them on top of your bowl or flat on your plate. But do not ever stick them vertically. It's taboo, since it looks like incense sticks, which we use to pray for those who have passed, like our ancestors or during funerary services.

#3 The majority of Asia is obsessed with fair/white skin. In my time at the Philippines, I grew up watching all these Dove Whitening commercials and my classmates often commented on how fair my skin was, how they envied it etc. In Taiwan, girls often say they don't want to 變黑 (biàn hēi) 'become dark'. Japan and Korea too are not innocent of this either (if their beauty/skin products weren't a dead giveaway).

People here at Taiwan often mistake me for being from Hong Kong or Japan (as long as I don't speak Mandarin with my heavy accent xD). A Taiwanese classmate of mine joked that she often gets mistaken for being from Southeast Asia due to having a darker complexion. And while I laughed it off with her at that time, looking back, I now realize she was lowkey being racist. xD

And believe me Filipinas have mentioned literally being told 'your skin is so dark' here in Taiwan, or being given backhanded compliments like 'you're pretty despite having dark skin' and...*facepalms*

My point is, beauty is not exclusive to skin color. People who still think that are assholes.

#5 Not to say we don't have salt and pepper, but yes soy sauce and vinegar are the classic condiments you see on the table, be it at home or at a restaurant.

And if I may add, Taiwanese love their pepper. xD If you ever get to eat at a night market or a smaller "Mom n' Pop-style" restaurant here, some dishes/soups tend to add quite an excessive amount of pepper. Not like anthills, but quite liberally and way more than average. Enough that you see traces of pepper at the bottom of the food paper bag or swirling in your soup. xD

#6 I know this all too well from personal experience. In my years of studying at Taiwan, I always had roommates. 3 in my first school (I graduated high school in the Philippines pre K-12 so I had to make up 2 years of Senior High), followed by 2 in college, with the exception of 1 in freshman year.

My college did offer single person dorms but at around 9000 NTD ($324) per month compared to around 6000 NTD ($216) per semester. Because I wanted to save, the choice was obvious for me xD. But ah, this doesn't mean I don't value personal space, in fact I love having the room to myself, and since both my roomies would go home to their families every weekend, weekends were bliss for me xD

And you don't have to be friends with your roommates (that's an added bonus however), you just have to get along with them. I was quite lucky to have really great roommates all throughout my schooling years.

#9 In the Philippines, we do. Owing mostly to American influences and maybe being predominantly Catholic? xD

#10 *sigh* Chinese parents and parents from similar Asian cultures tend to put too much emphasis on grades, so much that kids could get sent to cram school as early as elementary. This is because what school you get into could literally affect your future job opportunities, and while that's not exclusive to any particular country/culture, I feel it's especially pronounced here in Asia. I'm really lucky my own parents weren't that strict about it. However, if your parents don't point the mistakes out to you, chances are you'll do it yourself, if you're an Asian kid like me anyway. xD It just becomes a habit.

#11 My family is an exception to this. xD We do say 'I love you' directly, but complete with the 'ah eat well ok?', 'don't scrimp on food', 'sleep well' and similar indirect words/actions of affection. We were doing 'Conceal, Don't Feel' before it became popular. xD

#13 I'm kind of confused about this but this has sort have changed over the years in which eye-contact is now more encouraged. But don't stare, especially at elders and authority figures. Sometimes it's just shyness though. xD And I've observed this with my own Taiwanese friend, especially when I'm complaining or ranting to her about something. xD I'm a person who likes to express my opinions strongly, which tends to scare/alienate some of the locals here, as doing so is kind of frowned upon. Thankfully, she does listen and offers her take on things.

#14 Ah this. xD In the Philippines, this is a common greeting known as beso-beso, and I freaked out too when an auntie did that to me. xD Needless to say, Mom lectured me later on what that was. ^^"

#16 Along with #3 another crazy beauty standard. In my view, people always look better with a little meat on them and when they're not horribly thin. Asia still has a loonng way to go with accepting different types of bodies if you ask me. This combined with modern beauty standards has made the pressure for women especially to 'look beautiful' higher than ever.

I know many people love them but please, starving yourself or glorifying eating disorders is never OK just to get this kind of 'ideal' body. I'm not part of the Kpop fandom, but even I think when idols get bullied just for gaining the least bit of weight among other insensitive comments, that's really going too far.

#17 'If you want to make friends, go eat.' <- I couldn't agree more. In the Philippines we have a greeting: 'Kumain ka na ba?' (Have you eaten?) . Similarly in Taiwan, we have 吃飯了沒? (chī fàn le méi), both of these can mean that in the literal sense but are often used as greetings instead. By then which invitation to having lunch/dinner together may or may not follow. Food really is a way for us to socialize and to catch up with what's going on in each other's lives. Not to say we don't have regular outings like going out to the mall, going shopping, etc. but eating together is a huge part of our culture, be it with family or friends.

And while I'm at it, some memes that are way too accurate good to pass up xD

Parents, uncles, aunties alike will fight over the bill xD

Alternatively:

You just space out until your name is called xD

My parents are guilty of the last one. Logic how? xD

#18 True. xD I like giving compliments out to people but I have a hard time accepting them myself, though I've learnt how to accept them much more now than before. We're kind of raised to constantly downplay ourselves so we often say things like 'ah no no' or 'I'm really not that good'. The downside of this of course is that it can come off as somewhat fake. xD

Again from personal experience, that same classmate who made the lowkey racist remark, she was good, she was on the debate team, was a honor student, knew how to mingle with people, but she downplayed herself way too much, while praising me but I honestly thought that she never really meant it from how she treated me. She wanted to keep me around her yet make backhanded compliments at me and she didn't want me socializing with my other classmate who is now my friend. *sigh* It was only after discussing this with one of my roomies did I realize how this 'excessive downplaying' might come off to people like me who more or less grew up with a more 'Westernized' mindset. I'm not saying brag about your achievements but don't be overly humble about them either, which can also be a turn off.

#20 We do tend to be a lot more realistic on how we view things, neither entirely optimistic nor pessimistic. We try to think of things practically and often analyze things on pure logic. A downside of this however, is that Chinese people can be overly practical. Taiwanese for instance don't like to 'find inconveniences' and generally keep to themselves, meaning, they won't help you in your hour of need even when they do have the capabilities. Sounds really harsh I know, but in my 6 years of living in Taiwan, while this doesn't apply to all the people, a lot of them really do only find/talk to you when they need something.

So for some people saying Taiwanese are 'friendly', that's BS xD If you ask me, Filipinos are infinitely more friendly, and again while not all, generally make more of an effort to help you when you need it. I really felt more of a real sense of community during my years growing up in the Philippines compared to Taiwan.

#21 Children do tend to stay with their parents well into college and adulthood, since Chinese families are indeed very family-oriented, in a lot of cases, grandparents often live under the same roof as us as well! And it really does save a lot of money. I see there's a real stigma in the US when it comes to "living with your parents", but that's starting to change especially because of Covid and having more and more people move back in with their parents.

Housing unfortunately is pretty much hella expensive no matter where you go, and Taiwan is no exception. Steep housing prices and the very high cost of raising a child (schooling + buxiban fees, etc.) contribute to a very low birth rate and thus an aging population like Japan. It's not uncommon to see both parents working in Taiwan.

#23 I'm an overthinker myself, but I totally agree with the author that the best is to strike a good balance between these two. Which I guess is why I love drawing or any other related creative attempts, it helps me be more spontaneous or well, creative! I like to remain intellectually or artistically inspired.

#24 Is French high school really like that? xD My friend did watch SKAM France and more or less got a culture shock from what was depicted on the show. I can confirm however that most high schools both in the Philippines and Taiwan require students to wear a uniform, only in college is everybody free to wear casual/civilian clothes.

#26 Ah this is part of our Asian gift-giving etiquette xD We always open gifts later after the event/meeting and in private. Never open them in front of the person who gave it to you or in front of others. This is to prevent any 'shame/embarrassment' that may result both to yourself and to the gift giver. I know this may come off as something weird since some people may want a more honest response or immediate feedback when it comes to gift-giving, but that's just how it is in our culture. You're always free to ask us though (in private) if we liked the gift or not ^^"

#28 I want to say the same goes to drinking, partying, and drugs however xD Those are things which are still frowned upon in our culture. And to be honest, whenever I see those in movies, it does kind of turn me off xD It doesn't mean that we're "uncool" or "boring", we just think that there are much better or healthier ways of "having fun".

#31 Is this true in France?! Man I would kind of prefer that instead of people being on their phones all the time xD This kind of goes with #20 in that Chinese are overly practical or logical, and don't read fiction as much as nonfiction. My Taiwanese friend is an exception though, she's a bibliophile who loves the feel of paper books compared to e-books, and it's a trait of her that I like a lot. Both the Philippines and Taiwan however have a huge fanbase when it comes to manga and anime though.

I'm all for reading outside of "designated reading" at schools especially. Reading fiction improves your vocabulary too, and can be quite fun! It helps you imagine and really invest in a world/story, and if you ask me something that I feel Westerners are better at, they're more in touch with their emotions and creativity, and are thus much more able to write compelling or original stories. Believe me, I've seen a fair amount of Chinese movies that rip off Western movie plotlines xD

#33 Nothing much to add on here..except that since I'm a "weird" person, Mom often jokes that she got the wrong baby from the hospital. xD

#35 True. While I agree with the care and concern that your fellow community can give you, the downside of this is we tend to only hang out with our own people, e.g Chinese with Chinese, Taiwanese with Taiwanese, etc. I've seen too that it's especially hard to make friends in Japan and Korea as a foreigner. Not only is there the language barrier, but the differences in culture too. In a way, Asians can be pretty close-minded on getting to know other cultures or actually making friends with people from other countries. I know this all too well being half-Taiwanese/half-Filipino, being neither "Filipino" enough nor "Taiwanese" enough. xD It's more of people here being too used to what they're comfortable with.

#36 Oh this is something I feel that Chinese students and other students from similar cultures should really improve on. xD How will people respect you if you don't speak your mind?

I felt bad especially for my Spanish teacher in college, granted it was an introductory course (Spanish I and II) but the amount of times that our teacher had to prompt a student to recite/speak even with clear hints already made her (and me too) extremely frustrated. The thing is, these are college students, I personally feel they don't have any reason to be so shy of speaking and technically by not doing so they're slowing the pace of the class too much and a lot of time is wasted.

Unfortunately you can't always be very vocal with your thoughts and opinions in most Asian cultures. I would say strive for that, but at the same time, play your cards well, especially if you're in a workplace setting.

If you made it to the end, thank you for reading and here's a cookie! 🍪 I'm not perfect and there's bound to be something I missed so please let me know if you spotted anything wrong. Feedback/questions are very much welcome and please feel free to share about your country/culture's differences or similarities!

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nastasyafilippovnas · 4 years ago

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40 and 45 for santhony :)

I did the 40 one. If I do the other, I'll tag you. I hope you like it!

santhony + exes meeting again after years AU, post-canon, wc. 2.1 (ao3)

Siena wouldn’t lie, over the years she had imagined many scenarios for meeting Anthony again. He would attend one of her performances, she would spot him among the crowd and miss the next note, making the audience gasp collectively. Or they would cross paths down the street, with her coming out of Genevieve’s shop and him coming in with his mother and sisters. They would freeze for a moment, caught in each other’s eyes, then she would run as fast as she could in the other direction. Or maybe, just maybe, she would finally attend one of Anthony’s balls, in the arms of another gentleman, and he would stare helplessly at her as she waltzed the night away.

But soon a year passed and they didn’t meet each other once. She left for France with her new protector and, shortly after, Genevieve wrote to inform that, just in case she was wondering, the Viscount Bridgerton had finally married. Genevieve enclosed a sketch of the wedding gown she had designed for the bride. Siena understood her friend’s message loud and clear. It wasn’t cruelty. It was simply time to let go.

Of course, as much as she told herself that, her heart wasn’t as easily convinced. And sometimes, in the dark of night, she still indulged in fantasies and dreams. He would come to France on business and their paths would cross at a Parisian café. Or his wife would die of consumption and he would finally come running back to her. This one left her so horrified at her own selfishness that she found herself back in church, lightening a candle and praying for the Viscountess’ health.

Then time passed, as time ought to. Ten years went by in the blink of an eye. She went from Paris to Vienna to Milan. From Le Théâtre National to the Theater in der Leopoldstadt to La Scala. She was famous all over continental Europe. She was adored. And she had accepted that Anthony belonged to her past. She would remember their time together fondly, instead of tormenting herself with what ifs and regrets.

And now, here he was, hat in hand, standing at the door to her grandmother’s house, in the Tuscan town that carried the same name as she did, twelve years after they had parted ways. Older, yes, with some gray hairs and rug lines that the boy she had known didn’t possess, but equally handsome.

Siena couldn’t hide her astonishment as she openly stared at him, without knowing what to do.

“What…what are you doing here?”

“I stopped by the theatre first.” He answered simply, as if it was the most common thing. As if they had an appointment to meet for tea she had forgotten about and now he came to remind her. “Signore Maldini told me you were here.”

Siena bet he did. Signore Maldini, who managed the day-to-day affairs of the Milanese theatre, was the biggest gossiper she knew. He must have been delighted to tell Anthony where she was staying. And by now, the whole cast of La Scala - and probably half of Milan - already knew that some English gentleman had come looking for her.

“He mentioned you were sick.” He kept moving the hat in his hands in worry. “Are you feeling better?”

“It was just a cold that wouldn’t leave.” It had been a bit more than that. It had kept her from performing. Siena had remembered how scared she had felt when week after week went by and she couldn’t sing an aria without having a coughing fit. “The doctor recommended a change of airs and warmer climate.”

Anthony nodded, but the worry still clouded his eyes and she didn’t understand it. She didn’t understand any of it.

“My lord, why are you here?”

“Do you think I could come in?” Anthony asked and Siena noticed then they were in the same position as when they had last seen each other. Her at the door, and him in her steps. All that was missing was the other man. “That is, if you don’t…”

Siena stepped aside, showing him inside. “I’m sorry for my manners. I guess I was a bit surprised.”

“It’s understandable. Is this your house?” He looked around the place curiously.

Siena supposed that compared to his usual lodgings, it wasn’t much. The house was a good size, and it even had two floors, but it was in desperately need of repairs. The living room only had one couch, a writing desk and a chair on one side and the fireplace occupying the other side. At least she had fixed the leaking in the roof before Anthony arrived. She would’ve been mortified if he had seen that.

“It's my grandmother’s. Well, it’s mine now. She died last year and left it for me.”

Despite all the conditions, Siena had never been more relieved to have this place than when she had gotten sick. Leaking or not, it ensured she at least had a roof over her head and, with the money she had saved over the years, it was enough to live comfortably for some time. And although the house was far from the city center, which meant long walks to the market whenever needed, it also had a huge backyard and a great view of the Tuscan hills which had done wonders, if not for her health, at least for her soul.

“I'm sorry for your loss.”

Siena shrugged her shoulders. “It's okay.”

“Siena…”

They were still standing on the living room, she realized now. And whatever Anthony had to say, she didn’t want him to say it here.

“Come.” She said, already walking from the living room to the kitchen and taking the tea set she had left there for her afternoon tea and adding another cup to the tray. “We can sit on the patio and you can say whatever you have to say there.”

Anthony nodded and moved to follow her.

Siena opened the garden doors and felt some of the excitement over Anthony’s arrival leaving her, the calmness she had grown used to here returning to her. This was her favorite place in the house, probably in the city. The patio had a set of iron chairs and a table where to she directed Anthony and set their tea. It was spring and the whole backyard was blooming with flowers she had tended to herself. It filled her with pride to know she had turned the garden around all on her own, and maybe she wasn’t creating art, but at least she could help nature give and nurture life.

From their seats at the patio, they could also see part of the road and some of the Tuscan hills so many painters had tried and failed to capture the beauty of.

“It's beautiful here.” Anthony said in amazement.

“I know,” she answered, smiling. “I’ve been here for six months and it still takes my breath away every time.”

“Thank you for bringing me back here.”

She poured the tea for them. It was one of the few English habits she still kept, drinking a cup of tea while watching the Tuscan sunset, though she hardly ever had any company.

“You're welcome. Now…why are you here, Anthony?”

During all the time they spent together, she hardly ever used his name. But, after so many years, and inside her own idilic corner of the world, she felt she was finally allowed to.

Anthony let out a small chuckle, “I guess the scandals of the ton don’t make their way to little corners of heaven in Italy.”

“I'm afraid we don’t yet receive Lady Whistledown’s papers, no.” She said and, because she also worried about him, added, “Is everything okay? Is the Viscountess well?”

Anthony smile grew bigger at her question and he laughed. “The Viscountess is very well. She is currently enjoying herself to our country house with her lover. Female lover.”

“Oh.” That was certainly unexpected. Siena snorted. “I'm sorry. I’m sure that must have been most distressing for you.”

“Not as much as it should’ve been.” He answered seriously, staring directly at her.

Siena bit her lip and turned away from him, looking at the garden. “I see.” She paused and took a sip from her tea. “Are there any kids?”

The last news she had from Anthony were of his marriage on Genevieve’s letter. Afterwards, she never asked and, if she knew of anything, her friend never mentioned it.

“No. None.”

The answer didn’t shock her as much as how unbothered he seemed by it. That had always seemed so important when they were together, to have an heir. It had been his duty, after all.

“You could always get an annulment and marry again.”

When he didn’t offer any reply, Siena looked back at him. “But you won’t.”

Anthony sighed and drank his tea before answering it. “It seems…unkind to separate the Viscountess and the woman she loves, doesn’t it? Why should they suffer for being in love?”

She smiled softly. Anthony Bridgerton. She had always known he was a hopeless romantic.

“And the title?”

Anthony shrugged. “Benedict has two boys and so does Colin. It shall pass to one of them upon my death. Though, hopefully, a long time from now.”

“You seem to have made your peace with it.” It amazed her he wasn’t right now back in England attempting to perform his duties to perfection.

“Did you know I had never left England before?” Siena shook her head, though it didn’t come exactly as a surprise. She had travelled all over Europe like a gipsy, but he had stayed, strong and steady, since becoming head of the family at twenty. “Simon left to see the world and so did Colin. But I stayed. I never even considered leaving, except…”

He paused and looked away from her as both of them remembered the one time he was talking about. He didn’t finish that sentence, he didn’t need to.

“When the rumors started, the Viscountess left for the country and I didn’t see the point of staying in London, hearing the catty comments about my failed marriage.”

Siena nodded in understanding.

“You should know,” he continued, “I didn’t set out to see you.”

“Is that so?” She didn’t know if she should feel offended or not at that when he ended up at her door all the same.

“I went to Spain first. Not Italy. Not France.” The no country that would’ve reminded me of you was implied, but she understood it.

“That's a beautiful country too. I performed there for the King once.”

“Of course you did.” He smiled fondly at her. “So, I was walking down the streets in Barcelona one day, seeing all these marvelous things around me, and I realized there was only person I wanted to share that experience with. One person I wanted by my side. The same person I have always wanted. And I was wasting my time. I was letting my injured pride and my fear of another rejection prevent me from pursuing her.”

He looked directly into her eyes through the whole speech. After all this time. It was preposterous and fantastical and her heart was beating so fast it felt like it would leave her chest.

He raised his hand to her face and caressed it softly, tracing the contours of her lips and her chin just like he used to do. Siena closed her eyes and focused on the sensation of his fingers on her skin once more.

“Then you went to Milan?” She asked.

��No.” He answered with a little laugh and she opened her eyes. “As far as I knew, you were in Paris. So I went there. Then to Vienna. And finally to Milan. Every place I went, you had already left. It figures I would have to come to your city to find you.”

He grabbed her hands into his and dropped a kiss on top of it. She could hardly believe what was happening.

He had gone through quite the journey. For her. Back to her.

“I don’t know if I can sing anymore.” She blurted out before she could stop herself.

“What are you talking about?” Anthony looked back at her in confusion but didn’t drop her hands.

“Ever since I got sick, I can’t… The coughing was too bad. I’m better now, but… I’m afraid of trying and not being able.” It felt good to finally confess her feelings to someone. “And, to be honest, I don’t know if I want to go back. I miss singing but I don’t miss the stage.”

He kept caressing her hands through her confession, providing her support.

“You should do whatever makes you the happiest.” He said simply.

Siena got up from her chair and sat on his lap. Her hands on both sides of his face, looking directly into his eyes as she asked, “And you?”

“That’s also up to you. I will stay for as long as you will have me.”

Forever, Siena thought. Then she kissed him, again and again.

send me a ship + a number from this list and i'll write a short story

#truegodofthearena #answered asks #santhony #anthony x siena #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #siena rosso #my fics

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d-noona · 3 years ago

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BARTERED BRIDE - Chapter 4

Ch 04 - Lunch Meeting

Kim Namjoon is a ruthless financier used to buying and selling stocks, shares and priceless artifacts. But now Namjoon has his eye on a very different acquisition - Park Han Byeol. Left destitute by her father's recent death, Han Byeol walks into Namjoon's bank looking to extend her overdraft. As Han Byeol needs money and Namjoon needs a wife, he proposes the perfect deal: he'll rescue her financially if she agrees to marry him. But in this marriage of convenience can Han Byeol ever be anything more than just a bartered bride?

Masterlist

"I nearly kept you waiting," said Namjoon. "I came back from the bank at eleven to go run in the park. As I was coming home I saw an old man on a bench who was obviously in need of medical attention. That held me up."

"Do you run everyday?" Han Byeol asks.

"I try to. Are you a runner?"

Han Byeol shook her head. "I play tennis and ski. I don't do work-outs."

He slanted an appraising glance at her figure. Today, in place of a black suit, she was wearing a designer outfit bought on a holiday in Italy. It consisted f a fine jersey-knit top in lilac, a waistcoat in violet, and swirling chevron-striped skirt combining those colors with pink and pale pistachio-green. The audacious color combination was perfect with Han Byeol's dark hair and brown eyes. "You look in great shape," he remarked. "But people in desk jobs like mine need some kind of fitness regime to stave off the bad effects of a sedentary lifestyle. Come and sit down. What would you like to drink before lunch?"

She remembered his remark about the wine she had been drinking when he forced his way in the previous evening. Was he one of those people who drank only mineral water and made everyone who didn't feel on a lower plane? Han Byeol had no intention of allowing him to intimidate her. "A Campari and soda, please," she said firmly.

Namjoon said to the butler, who had been following them at a discreet distance, "A Campari for Miss Park and my usual, please, Curtis." With a silent inclination of the head, the butler withdrew.

"Let's sit over here, shall we?" Namjoon steered her towards a group of comfortable chairs near one of the windows. "Have you finished your packing?"

"Almost"

Knowing that she wouldn't be able to sleep, she had worked on it till long past midnight. At half past nine this morning a dealer whom she had ought a lot of furnishings had come round to buy them back. Luckily Han Byeol had paid for them out of her bank account. Although the money in it had come from her father, technically they were her property, not his. As soon as his business had been forced into receivership, everything her father had owned, including the family home belonged to his business creditors. But the cash the dealer had handed her could go in her pocket. It wasn't much but it was better than nothing if, when Namjoon spelt out the terms of his trade off marriage, she found that she couldn't accept them. Looking up at the elegant cornice around the ceiling and the two crystal chandeliers, their chains swathed with coral tassels at the tops of the heavy cream curtains.

"Are you interested in architecture?" He sounded faintly surprised.

"Sometimes."

The butler came back with their drinks, hers a slight more vivid red than the coral linen slipcovers on some of the sofas, Namjoon's colorless except for a twist of lemon floating among the ice cubes. It could be in or vodka, or it could straight mineral water. Namjoon said, "This was my grandparents' house. My paternal grandmother still lives here when she's not staying with her daughters". I moved here when my father died. We had been living in Ilsan. I have an apartment near Gangnam but I thought you would feel more comfortable being entertained in the main house," he added with a gleam of amusement. After a slight pause, he added "I shall move out when I marry. The province is better for children, if their parents can choose where to live. Most people can't of course."

"Where are you thinking of moving to?" Han Byeol asked.

"I haven't decided." His expression was enigmatic. "Where would you choose to live, given a free choice?"

Han Byeol considered the question. Once the answer would have been "Wherever Yoongi wants to live." She said, "Ideally I'd like more sun than we get in this city. I wouldn't mind living by the sea, getting some fresh air...or a lake would do as long as it has mountains round it. I'd like to look out on mountains...big ones with snow on top."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Sounds as if New Zealand would suit you."

She shook her head. "I'm sure it's a beautiful country but it's too far away from Korea. Have you been there?"

Namjoon nodded. "The scenery's magnificent...when it's not raining. Unreliable weather. I went with old friends, you might know them since they run in the same circles you do. Where have your travels taken you?"

"Mostly to holiday places...the Caribbean in winter...resorts round the Med in summer. My mother's a passionate gardener. She doesn't like travelling alone, even in a group. I've been on some garden tours with her...the south of France, Ireland, California. Where do you for holidays?" Han Byeol takes a sip of her Campari.

"I used to go with my father who also liked someone with him. We went to Japan together and other Pacific Rim countries. I travel a lot for the bank. For pleasure I usually go to France, Greece or Spain. Where would you like to go for our honeymoon?"

The question, tacked on to innocuous small talk, took her by surprise. "I haven't agreed to marry you," she said coldly.

"If you found the idea unthinkable, you wouldn't be here," he said dryly. "Let's be straight with each other Han Byeol. I need you...you need me. It's a sensible, practical arrangement."

She knew that at least the first part of what he said was true, but she wasn't about to admit it. Was it pride that made her reluctant to fall in with his plan too readily? She said, "I'm not clear why you've selected me."

"You're very attractive...as I am sure you're aware." he smiles at her gently.

"Is that all you want from a woman? An acceptable face and figure? Don't you care what I'm like inside?" Han Byeol scoffed.

'I can make some intelligent guesses. People can't hide their characters," he told her casually. "Even in repose a face gives a lot of clues to its owner's temperament. Apart from yesterday's evidence that you have a short fuse, I haven't detected any characteristics I wouldn't like to live with."

His arrogance took her breath away. In that moment of shock, she was struck by the thought it would be both a challenge and public service to bring this man down from his lofty pinnacle and convert him into an acceptably unassuming person. But perhaps it was already too late . One of gran's favorite sayings was, "What's bred in the bone must come out in flesh." Namjoon with his long-boned thoroughbred physique and his handsome features, looked a descendant of generations of men who had felt themselves to be superior beings and never experienced the doubts felt by ordinary people.

In a different, more rough-hewn way, her father had been the same. Probably somewhere far back in Namjoon's ancestry, there had been a man like her father: a rough-diamond unscrupulous go-getter who had founded the Park Fortune. Perhaps if Mr. Park had married someone better equipped to handle him than her quiet and easily cowed mother, her father might have been saved from becoming an overbearing braggart. Whether, at thirty four, Namjoon's essential nature could be modified was problematical. But it could be interesting to try.

She said, "I don't find you as transparent as you seem to find me. It takes me longer to make up my mind about people;"

"You haven't had as much experience of summing up people as I have."

The butler reappeared. "Luncheon is ready when you are, sir."

They ate in a smaller room with a view of a large garden, an oasis of well kept greenery in the heart of the city. The surface of the round Regency breakfast table had a gleaming patina resulting from years of regular polishing' It reflected the colors and shapes of the red-streaked white tulips arranged in a what Han Byeol recognized as an antique tulip pot, its many spouts designed to support the stems of flowers which had once been costly status symbols. The meal began with potted shrimps served with crisp Melba toast, tiny green gherkins and white wine, which they continued to drink with the main course, chicken with minty yogurt dressing.

While they ate Namjoon talked about plays and art shows he had been to recently. It was the kind of conversation made by strangers at formal lunch parties and although his comments were interesting Han Byeol thought his choice of subject was irrelevant to this particular situation. When the butler had withdrawn, leaving them to help themselves to a fruit salad with fromage frais, or to selection of more substantial cheeses, she said, "Why do you want a wife when you could go on having girlfriends and a change them when you get bored?"

Offering her elegant Waterford compote, its apparent fragility emphasizing the powerful but equally elegant form of the hands in which it was cradled, he looked at her with unexpected sternness. "I have a responsibility to my line. I need sons to carry on the traditions established by my predecessors."

She found this solemnly irritating. "Are you expecting me to provide proof of my fertility?" Before she could add that, if he was, he could forget it, Namjoon said, "No, I'm prepared to chance that."

"Big deal!" Han Byeol said sarcastically.

She had a feeling that Namjoon wouldn't hesitate to divorce her if she failed to live up to his expectations in some way. But although he struck her as a monster of cold-hearted self-centeredness, she couldn't deny that he was extraordinarily attractive. Every movement he had made since they sat down had heightened her awareness of the lean and muscular physique inside the well-cut suit and the long legs under the table. His hair was dry now but still had a sheen of health. There was nothing about him suggestive of stress or tension. He seemed entirely relaxed. Yet why did he need to arrange a businesslike marriage instead of falling in love the way people usually did?

Wondering, suddenly, if he might be in the same situation as herself, heartbroken, although it didn't seem likely, she said, "When did you dream up this scheme?"

"It's an idea I've had for some time...probably since my contemporaries started divorcing. I have about a dozen god-children, most whom now have step parents, some official, some not. I don't want that for my children."

"Did you parents stay married?" she asked.

It seemed to her that his face underwent a change. His lips didn't tighten. His eyebrows didn't draw together. But there was a subtle hardening and chilling, reminding her of the impression she had received that morning when they sat on opposite sides of his imposing desk/ Now they were at a table designed for a more intimate and relaxed conversation. But she sensed a change in the atmosphere and knew she had trespassed in an area of his where she was an unwelcome intruder.

"They separated. They were never divorced," he answered.

Han Byeol wanted to ask hold he had been when the separation happened, but something made her hold her tongue. Later, going back to the flat in the taxi he had laid on for her, she regretted her curiousity.

When-in-two people were going to marry, there shouldn't be any "No go" areas between them...or at least none of that nature. His past girlfriends were not her business, but his family life certainly was. She shouldn't have allowed herself to be put off. From now on she wouldn't be, she told herself firmly.

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #kim namjoon #joonie'#RM #bangtan army #rm x reader #rm x original character #rm motherfuckers

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betweenthetimeandsound · 3 years ago

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Three Minutes to Eternity: My ESC 250 (#130-121)

#130: Franco Battiato and Alice -- I Treni di Tozeur (Italy 1984)

“In una vecchia miniera, distese di sale E un ricordo di me, come un incantesimo”

“In an old empty mine, the salt extends And I seem to remember it, like a dream”

Franco Battiato was one of Italy's greatest songwriters, known for his complex songs in a mix of genres. Unfortunately, I haven't listened to most of his discography, but I do know of "Per Elisa", the song he wrote for Alice which won Sanremo 1981 (coincidentially, the first year Italy withdrew from Eurovision, welp). It's thoughtful and its incorporation of Fur Elise is well-done with its synthesizers.

In comparison, I treni di Tozeur is not a song readily caught by first listening, and that’s why it’s not my favorite of its year. This doesn’t mean it’s not a good song, though—it's sounds eerily futuristic even for the synth-based 1980s, and actually timeless. The lyrics seem ambivalent, but I think there’s some philosophical bent towards them. One of the commentaries talk about the train to Tozeur being built in the early twentieth century to satisfy the whims of the King of Tunisia, at a huge cost. Maybe there's some social commentary sneaking in there.

The performance was good, but it seems like Alice had a bit more control of her voice. She did so with style, and I actually liked her outfit.

In addition, the opera singers at the end were the cherry of the cake. A mix of classical and modern, indeed, which earned itself classic status.

Personal ranking: 2nd/19 Actual ranking: =5th/19 (with Belgium) in Luxembourg

#129: Linda Martin -- Terminal 3 (Ireland 1984)

“Staring into a space, searching through every face He's been away too long now, he must have changed”

I feel like there are two types of people in terms of 1984--those who have Alice and Batiatto (#130) as their favorite, and those who have Linda Martin as theirs. As shown by how close they are on my list, I love both, but Linda Martin just eeks it out.

The storytelling aspect of the song is very strong, as Linda waits for her lover to come from an international flight. Ironically, it can't be from Dublin, as no Irish airport has a third terminal. Maybe it's from London's she's waiting for her love? Or the flight is coming to the United States, rather than from it? Mysteries indeed.

(Now my life goal is to be at Terminal 3 at 10:30; one of David Tao's most famous songs is 飞机场的10:30--Airport at 10:30, which deals with the same topic)

The New Wave instrumentation and orchestration add up to the drama too--the brass grabs me from the first beats, and the strings and rock influences remain as the song goes on. It's kind of hard to believe Johnny Logan was behind this, especially considering he's better known for his ballads. If she had to win one Eurovision, Terminal 3 had to be the one.

Personal ranking: 1st/19 Actual ranking: 2nd/19 in Luxembourg

#128: Halla Margrét - Hægt og hljótt (Iceland 1987)

"Kvöldið hefur flogið alltof fljótt Fyrir utan gluggann komin nótt Kertin er’ að brenna upp Glösin orðin miklu meir’en tóm"

"The evening has fled all too fast Outside the window night has come The candles are burning low The glasses have become much more than empty"

As their debut entry was fun and "in-your"face", Iceland’s second entry has an afterparty feeling, but I've heard some comparisons to being a Christmas song. It doesn't sound like it to me, but it's still really serene and beautiful, as if the snow was falling outside (not unlike #213 on this list).

The lyrics are quite gentle and pretty, painting a dainty picture. However, they also contain enough melancholy to add a tinge of darkness to the scene, which is why I don't think it would work as a Christmas song. Halla’s vocals are very pure, and adds enough delicacy to the composition. The piano and orchestration also helps.

What stands out more is the funny notes related to Hægt og hljótt--one refers to the last line of their chorus, which is bufflaxed to "anus in the air" in English, another mentions how Halla's dress is see-through against the white piano, almost as if she was a ghost. Very strange, especially the latter as the lyrics focuses on the upcoming dawn. Or it would make a good fan-fiction, come to think of it.

Personal ranking: 3rd/22 Actual ranking: 16th/22 in Brussels

#127: Raphael -- Yo soy aquél (Spain 1966)

“Yo soy aquél, Que por tenerte da la vida, Yo soy aquél, Que estando lejos, no te olvida,

“I'm that one, Who gives his life to have you I'm that one Who's far away and doesn't forget you”

When I first did this sorter, Yo soy aquel ended up close to being in my top 50. It was a surprise, because despite being one of my favorite songs from Spain, I didn't think about as much in terms of great songs, even though it's a beautiful song.

The opening bars to this song are filled with drama, which gives way to Raphael’s crooning for the one he loves. The lyrics are a bit repetitive, sure, but they still work in how Raphael wants his love to know he will be there. I particularly love the way the song builds, which, combined with his singing, creates a brooding atmosphere. The explosion in the chorus is really effective, which the orchestra compliments and actually amplifies. You could actually feel his passion thanks to those strings.

1966 was an incredible year (especially for a black-and-white contest), and if I could switch one of Spain's wins, I would drop La La La for this in one second (even though there's another song from this year on my top 250). Massiel doesn't hold a candle to Raphael.

Personal ranking: 2nd/18 Actual ranking: =7th/18 (with Yugoslavia) in Luxembourg

#126: Liam Reilly -- Somewhere in Europe (Ireland 1990)

“We should be together, and maybe we just might If you could only meet me somewhere in Europe tonight”

For my European friends, I wish for this lyric to come true! I am sadly ill-traveled, haha.

When I started to consider this top 250, I thought "Somewhere in Europe" would be song #250, because it was pleasant and pretty, but wouldn't trouble the rest of the list. When I was re-arranging the list, this was one of the songs which got a great boost, and now it sits just outside of the top half of this list!

As for this song, I like it a lot. It not only a pretty little ditty, but it also takes the theme of unity and takes one on an adventure. Because of the piano-based instrumental, I keep thinking that it's like a Billy Joel song, as it's quite homebrewed. While I don’t think this would’ve made a better winner than Insieme (or White and Black Blues, for that matter--France winning would bring some new energy to the contest), Liam Reilly proved he was a talented songwriter, and it shines with the orchestration too.

As a result, I keep thinking that it would be a good New Year's Eve song--it's nostalgic yet calming, and seeks out a better future. Unfortunately, Liam Reilly died on New Year's Day this year, which makes it a bit sadder. RIP.

Personal ranking: 8th/22 Actual ranking: =2nd/22 (with France) in Zagreb

#125: Rita -- Shara Bachravot (Israel 1990)

לבוקר הזה יש טעם של חופש זר כמו של מוות או ברכה כי הלכתי ממך”

“This morning, Has the taste of strange freedom Like of death or a blessing Because I went away from you”

(I actually heard of Rita before stumbling on her Eurovision entry--one song I really like is Idan Raichel's Mechake (Waiting), and I searched the web. One of the results was Rita's version of his composition, which compared to Raichel's, is a bit more produced. Still great!)

1990 focuses on freedom in many ways, especially because of the Berlin Wall falling and the end of communism. Shara Barkhovot also talks about freedom, but does so in another way.

It’s basically a tale of a relationship ending, with a woman leaving her partner in the morning. It’s frequently interpreted as running away from abuse, and the imagery involved does a good job in conveying that feeling.

It’s dramatic and passionate, with Rita “emoting” the song rather than merely performing it. Unfortunately, it does go off the rails later on, with her vocals losing out at points. I still like how she played with the microphone stand, though!

Personal ranking: 7th/22 Actual ranking: 18th/22 in Zagreb

#124: Helena Paparizou -- My Number One (Greece 2005)

“You're my lover Undercover You're my sacred passion and I have no other.”

Helena Paparizou was one of those artists that I knew that participated in Eurovision, but didn’t listen to her song until much later. I found out about her with the song “Heroes”, which I played a lot when I was younger (about 11-13 years old), and didn’t think about her in the contest, other than she won and she received a wide ovation when she returned to Greece.

My Number One is all kinds of fun, from the ethnic instrumental to the sometimes silly lyrics. I also love the performance featuring Helena playing a human lyre, which is a definite highlight! A fun and energetic bop (the last of a holy trinity of ethno-influenced dance winners during this time), now I’m a happy fan of hers (I really listened to Kati Skoteino a lot since 2018, for example. Plus her Mambo interval the following year is fantastic.)

On whether this or "Die For You" was the better song, it's hard to tell, especially on how close they are on this list. Whereas 2001 was the weaker year and Die for You had to win it, My Number One was in a stronger year and held its own. And yet it's not my favorite...

Personal ranking: 2nd/39 Actual ranking: 1st/24 GF in Kyiv

#123: Vanilla Ninja -- Cool Vibes (Switzerland 2005)

“Don't want you to come so close to me Don't need you to blow my fantasy But I know that you are livin' far beyond those lies I can see the danger rise in your eyes...”

From my last place in 2004 to my favorite in 2005, what a glow up from Switzerland! Though to be honest, I have a hard time determining why this song in particular is my favorite of its year. I did come in knowing that Switzerland was the only one of the original seven to not win in my timeline, so that may have impacted my thinking.

Cool Vibes a dark rock song, with occasionally dramatic lyrics (though then again, emo rock was getting popular during that time), but an intriguing musical atmosphere. Despite 2005 being known as the "ethno-bop year", there were a number of interesting rock songs (e.g. In My Dreams), and this holds up by its sheer seriousness, versus the occasionally silly vibe of those others.

And with that string motif, it does sound like a song that needs an orchestra to realize its full potential. There's a lot of hidden angst throughout the song, and the multiple key changes actually helps here.

Personal ranking: 1st/39 Actual ranking: 8th/24 GF in Kyiv

Final Impressions on Switzerland: Not one of my favorite countries in the contest, unfortunately. I find most of their entries to be quite non-descript, with some of them being very bad. That said, they do have a number of gems on here, and some great ones that just missed out (Moi, tout simplement; Io senza te; She Got Me especially). And with the track they are now, they could actually win in the next few years. Hopefully with a French-language song. :)

#122: Tanja Ribič - Zbudi se (Slovenia 1997)

“Zbudi se, dobri princ Rada bi ti dala vse Svoje sanje in mladost Da ne bom iz pravljice”

“Wake up, good prince I would like to give you all My dreams and my youth Break the spell of the fairy tale”

Sometimes I forget I love this song. As 1997 is one of the strongest years (if not the strongest year song-wise), there are so many good ones one can't remember all of them. Zbudi se a bit dark and fits in very well with the rest of the 1990s with its mythical character (and might be the first Balkan ballad proper), but Tanja does it so well. And she would later be more known for her acting!

When I do listen to it, it just takes me away. It’s a dark fairytale, with beautiful lyrics and an intriguing atmosphere. The narrator longs for her loved one, filled with magical imagery and dreaminess. I also appreciate the transition between the lyrics and the chorus, which can be very hard to do! And of course, the orchestration, including the harp parts in particular, create a fantastic soundscape.

Personal ranking: 8th/25 Actual ranking: 10th/25 in Dublin

#121: Lúcia Moniz - O meu coração não tem cor (Portugal 1996)

“Dança-se o samba, a marrabenta também, Chora-se o fado, rola-se a coladeira.”

“We dance the samba, the marrabenta too, We weep the fado, and roll the coladeira”

Curiously, for a song which was one twelve away from a top-three finish, O meu coração não tem cor seems a bit less known within Portugal. It even didn't get a studio release, and Lucia is better known for being the love interest in Love Actually. And yet it's still a fan-favorite within Eurovision.

The lyrics call out to everyone in the Portuguese diaspora (or the Lusosphere in general), and welcomes them to engage in their cultural traditions. We have fruit and dance and crying and laughter all at once. All kinds of fun, except when the clips grayscale and I keep thinking of those "in memoriam" scenes.

And it managed impress in another way; it came in 18th in the audio-only pre-qualifer which only appeared in 1996. Thanks to the brazen and fun orchestration, along with Lucia's very sweet voice, it was lifted up in the final to a solid sixth place! Very well-deserved.

Personal ranking: 5th/23 Actual ranking: 6th/23 in Oslo

#eurovision song contest #eurovision #esc top 250 #esc 250 #esc italy #esc ireland #esc iceland #esc israel #esc greece #esc switzerland #esc slovenia #esc portugal #vintage eurovision #three minutes to eternity

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emrysarthurpendragon · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t say goodbye

They grew old together. Or most likely, Freya looked older while Merlin was still the same. Even with his use of tricks, people couldn’t miss how younger he looked beside his wife and, of course, people were gossiping. Oh, look at that young fellow, escorting his mum to the dance. Oh, another diamond’s digger, he wants the poor lady’s gold. Merlin loved her all the same, even when Freya started feeling self-conscious. Tonight was a big event and Merlin would not let people interfere with their happiness. They had been married for thirty years, together since they met during the war, no one would be allowed to spoil them from their happiness.

“C’mon, love. The taxi’s waiting,” he said, wrapping his arms around Freya and claiming another kiss from her. She laughed but did not seem content. “What is it?” Merlin asked, feeling worried.

“I don’t feel like going out … all these people, they’ll think you’re a…”

“A man deeply in love with his wonderful, beautiful and so amazing wife? Then, they’ll be right. If they have nothing better to do, like paying attention to their company, it’s not our problem to worry about.” Merlin said, as he caressed Freya’s cheek, she leaned to the touch and nodded. “You want to go?” Merlin still questioned, as he never forced the woman to anything. Not now, not ever.

“I’ll do anything with you, you know it.”

“And so do I, I’ll even die for you,” he joked.

“Not that you actually can,” Freya teased him back and they both shared a laugh, cut short by a man’s voice. Their son, Gaius, who turned thirty a few weeks ago.

“Mum, dad, just go! I know the night is long but…”

“But that girlfriend of yours is waiting in her car, and you really need us to go so she can come in?” Merlin said, earning a horrified glance from their blushing son, and an amused giggle from Freya. “What? You thought we did not notice your eagerness whenever we planned a night out?”

“Actually, Merlin love, I recall I was the one who told you,” Freya added, raising an eyebrow in a ‘don’t mess with me’ look.

‘Really?” Merlin pretended to doubt her words, but he smiled softly. “I guess you’re right. Still. Gaius, remember to act like a proper gentleman. Serve her food first, don’t kiss her without her consent and if she drinks more than a glass of wine, drive her home. Don’t let her take a cab, strange things are happening now, and we don’t want to risk her life.”

“Dad!” Gaius whined, sounding like the child he used to be.

“Oh and there are condoms in your bedside. Even if I do hope you are not a horny creature and can wait until after your wedding.”

“PAPA!” Gaius now screamed, his face a deep shade of red as he hid it with his hands.

“Merlin, stop tormenting our boy,” Freya chastised her immortal husband. “He knows the rules and how to threat a woman.”

“We can’t remind him enough, can we?” Merlin wondered, “Ok. Ok. Let’s go. I’m sure the poor girl is freezing.”

Gaius visibly relaxed and hugged them both. In six months, he will be a doctor, like his parents. They never pressured him in such a carrier but when he had been old enough to understand his early life, Gaius had decided to help people, to save lives as a payment for the ones watching after him from above. Many died and he survived … for them, he will save humans without judgement or prejudice regarding whom they were, their religions or orientations. They were so proud of the man he became.

“I love you,” he whispered and the ushered them to the door.

“We love you too,” they both said, waving as they headed to their car. Still, Merlin couldn’t help but make a quick detour to a vehicle parked close to theirs. He knocked at the window and chuckled when the woman inside literally jumped on her sit. Thanks to some make up and fake white hair, Merlin looked close to his wife age – or not as young as he was – so she probably never questioned what he told her. Or it was because she flustered and wished to vanish. “Good night, Milady. Gaius is all yours until midnight, you’ll see, he made his favourite recipe, learned from my dear Freya. Have fun!”

When he joined his wife in the car, she sent him a glare and after a minute, they both laughed.

“You had to scare the poor girl, aren’t you?”

“What do you want? We, immortals, had to take little pleasures when they are at reach. Plus, I’m sure she’s a future ‘Mrs Emrys’. I like her.”

Freya said nothing but she truly wished the best for their son. Of course, Gaius had no memories from their times in death camp, but he still had enough suffering for a life. Until now, his relationship never lasted long, mostly because their boy wanted to protect their secret but he deserved his happy life. Merlin even planned to vanish, if it helped Gaius. The boy always refused, claiming that one day, he will find the one. The one with whom sharing their darkest secret would be fine. He had been courting that woman for a couple of months now, they all hoped she would stay around and accompany Gaius on the long road of life.

At the restaurant, Merlin held a hand to Freya as he helped her sit on her chair, before placing himself facing her. Tensed at first, the older-looking woman soon forgot the stares and they laughed, shared stories from their past and all the happy times they had. Gaius’ first steps, in their apartments in London. The day she graduated from nurses’ school, with the photograph still in their living room as a testimony that, even if you travelled trouble waters, happiness was waiting for you at the corner. Their wedding day, with so many people they couldn’t even count. Mordred had been there for a couple of years, but he vanished after their son’s fifth birthday. People who went to Dachau too, and were now like family. People who – Freya learned it that day, as Merlin never took credits for his good deeds – the man helped hide. Entire families were still alive because Merlin existed. As they talked about it, Merlin blushed again and waved it off, claiming he just did what numerous people managed to do in that time.

“Maybe, but you’re the only one with a legend attaches to him,” Freya said, taking his cold hand in her warmer one. “Children and grandchildren know the story of an un-aging angel sent to protect us. A man without weapons, asking for peace instead of violence. The one who found a baby and raised him as his own son.”

“I’m no angel. I killed people too, when I had to.”

“And? Angels are warriors too. They have flaming swords and all kinds of weapons. Merlin, you are their saviour, our hero. You deserve this. Don’t you see their smiles whenever we visit them? You think they believe you, when you tell them you’re just a parent with their Merlin?”

“Why not?” Merlin asked, nervously playing with his food. He felt like he did not fit the part. He failed at saving so many friends … but the one death he felt the most ashamed of, he could not even remember it. Even in his nightmares, the scene vanished the moment he opened his eyes.

“They love you, that’s all I wanted to say,” Freya spoke and they continued their dinner. For dessert, they ordered something simple, chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream, as it held found memories for them. When they first moved back here together, they went to a park and shared an ice cream. The same night, Merlin made a cake for his beloved and surprised her when, as time passed, he surprised her when he cooked dinner for the family most of the time. With her school, Merlin had known how tired she had been and spared her the charge of a house. More than once, he had laughed at what her spouse’s friends told her. They often asked if they could borrow hum to teach their husbands; every single time, Freya told them her better half was not for sale. “You think Gaius will kiss her tonight?” Freya asked after a while.

“If he doesn’t, I kick him from the house. It’s been what … eight months? We never waited that long!”

“We met in different circumstances. Things go faster during a war. And if I’m correct, you were still a virgin when we met … how old were you then? A thousand and four hundred years old? More or less? Gaius’s still in time.”

“Very funny.” Merlin muttered. He knew he should not have told her about this. Of course, she would use it against him in moments like these.

“And you were so cute the first time, so clumsy! I still remember you falling off the bed!”

“Shh, Freya please!” Merlin squealed, remembering all too well what happened that night. They were on the boat taking them to their honeymoon in Spain, alone, without Gaius for the first time in months – Mordred had babysat him – and Merlin wanted the night to be special for them. Before their union, he had studied many books and asked some friend about what he should know for his first time with Freya, and at all in fact. Mordred, for instance, had watched him with wide eyes before he broke with laughers but then share some insightful knowledge with him. Some colleagues helped him too and told him to relax. Still, when the night came he worried he may hurt Freya and after load of cuddling, when he rolled on top of his beautiful wife, he went too far and fell on the floor. The young maid had laughed for a good fifteen minutes, with a pouting – naked – Merlin on the pavement. “I wish I could forget that night…” he mumbled, the shame still burning his soul.

“I held found memories from then. I loved you even more, knowing it happened because you cared. Most men, even now but more in our time, would have thought of their pleasure, not mine. I’m lucky I met you.”

“I still think it happened because we were on a boat, and the roll made me lose my balance.”

“If you think so, my love … if you say so…” Freya chuckled.

The night went smoothly. After dinner, they head to a dance’s event and twirled together, eyes into eyes, until they couldn’t notice the people around them. Nothing existed beside the two and their radiating love. In that moment, Freya felt like the young bride again and Merlin saw the way she smiled, the sparkles in her eyes. She was so perfect, like a diamond he had been lucky enough to hold all these years. Around noon, the placed closed and they stopped dancing. Like Cinderella, their time had expired and they had to go home.

“I wish that night never ends…” whispered Freya. “Take me to the Lake, please?” there was a feeling of urgency in her voice, Merlin noticed, but he said nothing and drove to the peaceful place. The first time they came as a family, Merlin noticed something in Freya’s stance and look. When he asked what the matter was, she said nothing, staring at the calm water. Still, they started coming each week as a ritual. Tonight though, something felt wrong. When they reached their usual spot, Freya turned around and took his hand. Her eyes shimmered in the moon light and the older man worried.

“Freya? What’s wrong?”

“You don’t remember, do you?” she asked, “The first time we came here together?”

“Of course, I do! We were with Gaius and…”

“No. The first time, we were alone. Together. We ran in hope of a new life, with a lake and mountains surrounding us. We wanted a new place, where people like us were not hunted down for what they were…” she whispered, silently begging him to remember. But remember what? “You erased your own memories in the fifth, early sixth century, after Arthur died. Long after I died too, and you sent us all here, in Avalon, as we waited to meet again.”

“What…? No. So what? You think I’m like… Merlin as in Merlin and King Arthur? It’s crazy. I lose my memories because a building fell on me. Magic never existed!” Merlin said, a bubble of anguish forming in his chest. If it were true, why was he so scared? Why did he always feel hollow near the lake? Like he was mourning someone? No. Legends. King Arthur and Camelot belonged to myths. “Why are you doing this? Why tonight?” he begged, his head starting to hurt as something tried to pierce through his skull.

“The Goddess think it’s time for you to realise what you’ve lost. She sent me back to this world, she made us meet again and … oh how much I love you. Time never altered our feelings. But you need to stop. You need to bring back magic and Camelot. Just look, we are all coming back. Mordred. Me. Gaius. The others will be born again soon … please. I’m begging you…”

Merlin watched her with eyes filled with pain and worry. Images started playing, submerging him like a wave contained for too long. His boy tensed. Freya, loving Freya, knelt beside him and gently patted his back.

“Let them come, my love…” she soothed with kind words. “Let them come and guide you to the Source…”

The Source. Source of all magic. Arthur. Death. NO!

Merlin’s mind shut all the memories. He locked them even more behind his walls. Confused, Merlin looked up from where he fell, with Freya watching him closely.

“Excuse me. What were we saying?” he asked, the conversation forgotten with everything related to his first life.

“I told you that place seems magical. I’m sure there are fairies hidden somewhere,” Freya said, knowing pushing her husband more was useless. Merlin did not want to remember. Even after all that time, his soul still had not healed from Arthur’s death. The wound was too deep, and never healed properly since the warlock refused to face the memories, good or not. “Hold me close for now…” she wanted to enjoy every moment, as the clock ticked to the end of their story. She had planned everything … ever since she feared she won’t be enough to make the warlock remember. When they came home that night, Freya watched Merlin’s peaceful sleep for hours. At three in the morning, she stood and got dress. At three thirty, she placed a letter on the fireplace, under the family’s portray. At three forty-five, she closed the door and never came back.

* * *

The morning after, Merlin opened his eyes to an empty place beside him. It surprised him, since Freya had always enjoyed extra sleep but he yawned and headed to the kitchen, where he found Gaius with a coffee in front of him, and a smile on his face. His date probably went well, and the proud father decided not to mess with his boy today.

“Have you seen your mother?” he asked after he swallowed his toast.

“No. Wasn’t she with you?” Gaius worried. “She’s probably in town; let’s look for a note,” he offered and they started searching for something. Merlin was in his office when Gaius knocked at the door. He looked pale, a letter in hand, and gave it to him. Thinking of it, Gaius seemed like the epitome of an abandoned child. Quickly, Merlin read the words and his world fell apart.

My love,

I can’t tell you how sorry I am for leaving you like this. My years with you were among the happiest I ever had and for that, I will always be thankful. When we met for the first time, I was scared, I felt like I was a beast, cursed for something I never asked for. Cursed for being me, a victim of the system. With you, I saw the light field from the sky and … and I knew I deserved to be happy. I’m proud to say I had been your wife in this life, and I know that one day, you’ll find the missing piece fulfilling your heart.

Long ago, you told me you were immortal and I never questioned this. I didn’t because of reasons I can’t share at the moment… I also know you don’t mind people and their gossips, but no matter what, I’m freeing you, Merlin. Please, take care of Gaius and don’t waste your time looking for me. I love you. I love you so much there are no words strong enough to describe it. I hope that one day, you will remember your past and embrace it with open arms. I love you, my dear boys, remember me. ▬ Freya, mum.

“Gaius, take your coat, she can’t be far!” Merlin ordered, already putting a jacket on. Her son complied and they both hurried outside. They asked the neighbourhood, the policemen touring their district, the milk’s deliveryman. No one had seen or heard of Freya.

“Dad, what about the lake?” Gaius said. They were at a café, after hours searching the town. Merlin’s head snapped up. How could he forget the lake? They went there just the previous day. Both men ran toward their place.

“Freya!”

“Mum!”

“Freya can you hear me?!”

“Mum, please come back!”

They circled the lake together. Gaius one side, Merlin the others. Nothing. Not even a misplaced item to lead them. They almost wished they found something, even if it meant the beloved woman had drowned under water. Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. Enough time passed to see Gaius introducing young Alice to his dad. A lovely lass with brown hair and chocolate’s eyes. It turned out she was one of these people, who loved mysteries and legends and when they told her about Merlin’s secret, she accepted him without questions. Afterwards, she asked a lot of them, obviously, but never when Merlin was in a bad day. Those happened each year, when it had been another 365 days without his Freya. He just gazed into emptiness for hours, not even acknowledging his family. But today, Alice had no choice but disturb the man. Gently, she placed her hand on his shoulder and pulled him from his dark thoughts.

“Merlin? A word, please,” she asked, they sat with Gaius on the couch, while he remained glued to his chair.

“Dad, we have good news,” Gaius said, beaming with pure happiness. “We are expecting a baby, a girl. Alice is pregnant!”

This brings the first real smile Merlin had in years. Laughing, he stood and held his son and Alice, the daughter he never had. “Congratulations! I’m so happy for you! When are you due, dear?”

“July, the 15th. We are so excited!”

“You already have names?” Merlin asked, curious now.

“Actually, yes,” Gaius said, still smiling and holding his wife’s hand. The two were so in love, it warmed the hearts.

“Hunith, and Freya for second.”

“Oh…” Merlin whispered. He could not say more, his emotions were overwhelming. A mix of happy and sad fighting inside him. “I… I love it.”

Months later, when he met his granddaughter, Merlin loved her right away. Freya left without a proper goodbye but now, there was this new life he welcomed with an open heart. His wife had been right, when she said happiness will always find her way to their lives.

“Hello Hunith, I’m your grandpa…” he whispered, the first time he held her. For a curious reason, he felt like laughing when he said these words. As if there was some sort of inside jokes happening. “I will always love and protect you.”

I’m so glad we meet again. I missed you, so much. I won’t abandon you this time. Please forgive me. Are the others coming too?

Unknowingly to Merlin, something in his soul clicked; something awoke when his subconscious realised his loved one were coming back to him. That day, Merlin started aging again.

#whumptober2020 #no.8 #don't say goodbye #abandoned #merlinbbc #merlin bbc #fic #sfw

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christophcalledbingo · 5 years ago

Text

The Guessing Game (Dr. King Schultz fic)

I’m not a native speaker of English (I am in fact Spanish), but I do try my best, so forgive me if there is any mistake. I’m also learning German because procrastinating by doing other things rather than college stuff is my jam. I think I’m going to do a second part of this, so I hope you like the first one!

Dr. King Schultz x original female character.

Warnings: hints of depression, some verbal abuse and attempt of physical abuse and a lot of swearing.

Translations:

Gute Nacht Fraulein - Good night darling

Sprichst du Deutsch? - Do you speak German?

Bitte - Please

Ja - Yes

Danke - Thank you

Dr. King Schultz is not mine (I wish, duh!)

Another night of pouring drinks for a living. I could not imagine that my life would turn out like this when first I arrived to America with my parents when I was a child. Now I’m completely alone and in a very urgent need of money, so I thought I could handle two jobs… I’m not going to lie, it’s actually pretty difficult being a teacher by day and bartender by night. You might be wondering how I ended up being a bartender, me, a woman. Well, nobody else wanted to do it so there was no objection for me take the part. It is very tiring job and most customers behave like pigs. Some nights I can handle it, other nights I just cry myself to sleep. It’s ok though, I do it for the kids.

It is a lively Friday night, everybody is out. Being the only tavern open in such a small town is both convenient and a mess. A few bottles are thrown, many spits are being missed and a few tables are being turned in angry poker disputes. Being surrounded by so much uncontrolled testosterone gives me massive headaches, I wish I could go out for a smoke, but today there is nobody than can cover me at the bar. Suddenly someone catches my eye, a stranger enters through the door. I remember every face in this town and no many outsiders come here, but he is in fact a stranger, and quite handsome if I say so myself. He catches me looking at him and I blush slightly. He gets closer to the bar and I can see him clearly now. He looks physically mature but in his eyes look very young, and with a hint of trouble. Blue, brown and green. As if his eyes were a cup of green tea that had been sweetened with brown sugar, and in their reflection I could see a very blue and beautiful sky. He has a very well trimmed greyish beard and mustache, which actually frames his face in a very nice way. I think he is not American and when he opens his mouth my doubts are solved.

“Gute Nacht, Fraulein.” German, huh. It’s been years since I’ve talked to another European, this is going to be interesting.

“Good evening to you too, what can I get you?” I say, trying to make him notice that I understood him.

“Oh! Sprichst du Deutsch?”

“A bit, I can understand it better than I can speak it though.” I feel like I just made a fool of myself, but at least it was a nice icebreaker.

“So, you are not German, but I can tell than you are not American either.” He is very charming...

“What gave it away?”

“Not many Americans know German, I just took a wild guess.” He is very charming indeed. “From where in Europe are you from?”

“Try to guess” I say with a grin in my face, trying not to laugh. “Oh, wait…”

“Yes?” He says, looking directly at my eyes.

“You didn’t tell me what do you wanted to drink, let me fix it up for you while you guess.” He smiles warmly.

“Pale ale, bitte.” That hint of German in the end makes my legs shake.

“Right up!” I say, trying to hide the fact that I’m actually shaking.

“So, you don’t have an American accent, that’s for sure. You are more like from the south, from the Mediterranean?”

“Ja!”

“You’re way of moving is quite rhythmical, not like an Italian though…”

“Nein.” As I say this, a drunk guy comes right at me, right when I’m in the middle of serving the ale, and grabs my hand from the other side of the counter.

“DaMN! YoU are BEautifuL!” He is grabbing tighter, fingernails and all. I drop the glass, half full of bear, due to the pain.

“Please, let me go…” I say, trying to hold back my tears from the pain, my wrist is starting to bleed.

Before I can say anything else, the handsome stranger grabs the drunk from the neck, but the latter is not letting me go, in fact he is grabbing tighter, and the wound gets deeper.

“Let her go.” Says the stranger with a very deep voice.

“HeY HoN, Do YOu WanT to Go TO thE BAck aNd SuCk mY-”

Before he finishes that sentence, the stranger grabs the arm that was around my wrist and twists it, I hear a pop and then I’m free.

“MOTHERFUCKER! YOU BROKE MY ARM!” The pain must have made him sober all of a sudden.

“Next it’s going to be your nose if you don’t shut your mouth. I don’t tolerate the rude, even less when it involves hurting others.” He looks at me while I’m trying to stop the bleeding from my wrist.

Everybody in the tavern is looking at us, not as if they want to start a fight, but as if they were amazed by the stranger, myself included.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!” My boss shouts as he appears from the other side of the room.

“Sir, she has been hurt, I’m taking her to her home.” The stranger said, while helping me to get up.

“No way, I don’t have-” He shuts in an instant when he sees the other guy’s arm.

“What did you do to him?! Are you insane?! He is a client!”

“And she is your employee.”

“I’m going to call the sheriff!”

“Do it, call him…” I don’t know why, but the stranger is smiling.

“Tom, go tell Sheriff Cooper that we need him, immediately.” And there goes Tom.

“I just got one question for you.” Says the stranger.

“Huh? The fuck are you saying?”

“Are you Mr. Frank Last?” Why is he-

“Yes, I am. Why are you asking, old man?” Then, the handsome stranger looks at me, smiling.

“Let me introduce myself. I’m Dr. King Schultz, travelling dentist and bounty hunter. And you, my friend, have a price for your head: for breaking, entering and stealing on multiple houses, north of the river.”

“Wait, how the fu-” He cannot finish his sentence. The strange- the doctor is so quick that I didn’t even notice that he had his gun out. He puts a bullet on my boss's right leg, making him fall to his knees.

“AAAAAAAAAHHHH!!! SON OF A BITCH! YOU FUCKING SHOT ME!” There is blood all over the floor.

“WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE!!!!!” Sheriff Cooper is at the door, looking at all the mess. The doctor helps me to get to the sheriff, but he looks very calmed, which is a very huge contrast if we take into consideration the ambiance of the bar: tense as fuck.

“Ah! You must be Sheriff Cooper. My name is King Schultz and I’m here to recover the bounty for Mr. Frank Last, a delinquent that has 500$ on his head.”

“What?!” The sheriff looks genuinely puzzled.

“He is a criminal.” He hands a wanted poster of my boss’s face to the sheriff. “And also, that guy over there was trying to hurt this lovely lady.” With tears still in my eyes I look at the sheriff and nod. The sheriff sighs.

“Ok people, this establishment is closed until further notice.” Everybody shouts and screams, but there is nothing they can do about it.

...

The handsome doctor asks me where I live, and I just tell him, no doubts or hesitations, I just want to get home. We enter my cold and tiny home and he asks me for a first aid kit or any supplies that may help to cure my wounds. I tell him that everything he might need is in the bathroom, and so he leaves me alone in my kitchen.

“Got it!” He shouts in the distance after a couple of minutes.

As he examines my wound, I look at his face, which is truly focused on my hand. I see his eyes flickering with excited concentration.

“That detestable man had dirt on his nails and now the wound is infected.” Of course it is, all the bad stuff happens to me.

“You said you were a dentist, right?”

“Ja”

“Isn’t curing wounds more of a ‘doctor doctor’ thing?” He bursts into laughter.

“Of course, but you do not start working in the bounty hunter business if you don’t know how to cure a basic wound.” I just made a fool of myself, again. “And also, dentists also need to know how to cure wounds. If you saw the kind of mouths I’ve seen, truly disgusting.” As he says this, he starts to disinfect, and I try my best to hold the pain.

“...Spanish”

“Huh?”

“I’m from Spain, but I moved here with my family when I was very young.”

“How interesting, I’ve never been to Spain… Is it nice there?”

“I don’t remember much, but I do remember the nature, the sun and the breeze. Much more steady than here, that’s for sure.”

“It sounds lovely.” He has finished to cure my wound and has putted a bandage on my wrist to protect it from further infection.

“By the way, the name is Clara, Clara Valle. However, everybody is so funny around here that they call me ‘Claire of the Valley’.”

“But… we are on a mountain?”

“It makes no sense, I know. It’s just the literal translation of my surname”

“Well, Clara, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He grabs the hand that is not injured and kisses my palm, I blush a lot. No one has never been such a gentleman to me, I quite like it.

“The pleasure is mine. How should I call you? Is Dr. Schultz ok?”

“Just call me King, if you want of course.”

“Danke, King.” He turns away as if is looking for something, when in truth he is hiding the fact that he is blushing. I can see it in his ears, they are completely red.

“For what?”

“Saving me? Curing the wound? I don’t know, you name it. Most of the times working at the tavern is bearable, but it’s nice to know that someone has your back.” I say, looking at the ground. Half ashamed that I needed help today, half happy that it was him who came to the rescue.

“You don’t have to thank me, it was the least I could do. They were behaving like neanderthals, absolutely detestable.”

“I couldn’t even serve you your drink!”

“That is the least of your worries. Being completely honest, I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.” Oh my Lord, is he flirting with me? I just stay in silence, I don’t know what to say… If I open my mouth it would be to press it against his, but that is a very bold move. I just met him! I don’t know if he finds me attractive enough, no one ever does... “Well, I should get going then.”

“Wait! You could sleep here if you don’t have anywhere to do it. My sofa is quite comfortable. I could sleep in it and you could sleep in my bed. It’s the least I can do…” I stop talking when I realise that he is smiling, a very wide smile, and that he is looking at me in the eyes. “I’m so sorry if that was inappropriate! I was raised that way, I’m very direct!” I’m practically shouting because of the embarrassment.

“I can see that, but don’t worry. I will go to the inn and stay there for a few nights, preparing for my next travel.”

“Oh…” It was obvious, but somewhere inside of me hoped that he would stay.

“Well, if there is nothing else you need help with-”

“Actually, I cannot move my hand very well as you can imagine. Could you help me untie my corset?” I say, while I grab my hair and show him my back.

He says nothing, he just gets close to me and starts to undo the knots of the corset. It is convenient that I’m no facing him, because my face is red once again. I can feel his breath in my neck. I also feel like fingers brushing my back intentionally, but I’m a bit scared of my own feelings, so I just ignore it. I do everything I can to hide my face and my intentions until he finishes.

“There you go, glad that I was able to provide some further assistance. Goodbye then, dear Clara.” He says, while looking at the floor.

“King, could we meet before you leave town?” He raises his head and he looks at me while I hold my loose corset to my chest.

“Of course. In fact, I can look for you tomorrow. We could go for a cup of coffee, if you want.”

“That would be truly delightful.”

#dr king schultz #christoph waltz #django unchained #fanfic

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inkstaineddove · 5 years ago

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Loneliness and Alcohol

Ships: PruHun, SpaAus, GerIta; blink-and-you-missed-it USUK

Characters: Prussia, Austria, Hungary, Germany, Italy, Spain, France, America; mentioned Britain, the Netherlands, Belgium, Romano, and Belarus

Summary: Every year America sends all the nations invitations to his New Year's Eve party and every year Germany, Hungary, and Austria decline. Until 2019, when America finally invites Prussia, and they're all dragged along. It's Roderich's worst nightmare, but Gilbert and Erzsébet have plans to cheer him up.

Berlin, 2019.

Germany entered his home, grumbling and shuffling through the stack of mail in his hands. Trash, trash, bill, trash. He scowled at the sparkles sticking stubbornly to his fingers. “America’s New Year’s Eve party invitations arrived.” He glanced over at Hungary and Austria, sitting at the dining table and gossiping with Prussia. “I don’t know why he continues to send me one. I’ve been declining the damn things since the fifties. Have you two gotten yours?”

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve been here all weekend.” Hungary wrinkled her nose at the thought of attending. “I don’t want the hassle of flying over there. I’ll send him a bottle of champagne to be polite.”

“I received mine before I left this morning.” Austria sniffed, sticking his nose up. “I can only imagine what kind of parties he throws. They’ve got to be houses of debauchery and sin. I loathe going to New York for the U.N. meetings enough as it is. I will not be heading there in my leisure time.”

Prussia nodded vigorously. “Yeah, his stupid little shindig isn’t worth the airfare!”

“Calm down, he sent one for you too this time.” Ludwig slipped the little piece of paper before Gilbert, watching his brother’s expression change.

Eyes wide open, then blinking in disbelief, to a steely determination. This changed everything. “Actually, I’ve heard from Francis that he’s got fountains of beer flowing. Isn’t that amazing?” He took Erzsébet’s hands in his, turning his whole body towards her. “We should go! It would be fun!”

She jerked her hands away from him. “No! I refuse to go on principle! You can’t stand the guy, the only reason you want to is because he bothered to remember you this time!”

“Not true!” He felt everyone’s disbelief boring into his skin. He bowed his head, hoping humility would work in his favor. “I never get invited to anything anymore. This feels special.”

“Aw, cheer up. You still do,” she leaned in and kissed his cheek. A teasing smile inched the corner of her mouth up. “As my plus one.”

This solicited a chuckle from Roderich, who was silenced by Gilbert’s heel digging into his toe. Gilbert sighed dramatically. “I liked it better when it was the other way around.” He tucked a strand of hair behind Erzsébet’s ear. “We could go for an hour and then leave. Dance the night away far away from him. Have a picnic under the stars. Let me have my fun and then the night’s yours.”

What would be the harm in it? And, really, a night with him traipsing through New York could be rather romantic. It would make up for having to deal with everyone else. “An hour, tops, to feel like a hotshot. I don’t want to stay longer.”

Ludwig sat down, coffee in hand, in the empty seat besides Roderich and Erzsébet. “I can recommend you two a hotel close to his home. There’s a few good ones.” He looked up from his drink, meeting Gilbert’s gaze. There was an incomprehensible look in his brother’s eyes. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No, wait, actually. Lean over.” He forcibly wiped away a speck of dirt from the other man’s cheek, paternal instinct kicking over. It made Gilbert feel useful and Ludwig completely embarrassed. “I’m just surprised you’re letting me go to one of these things unsupervised. This’ll be fun for me. I’ll be on my best behavior as the representative of Germany there. If his boss is there, I might ask about helping us get back some land to the east. In our best interest, of course.”

“I would consider it a victory if he even knew what Prussia was, Gilbert.” Ludwig could feel the vein in his forehead beginning to throb. He hadn’t considered this unintended consequence. He would have to trust his brother. He could do that. He could manage to trust Gilbert for one night.

Roderich gently tapped his fingers against the table, understanding what Gilbert was trying to do. “Excellent idea! And, while you’re at it, let Feliciano know not to look for Ludwig.” He turned his attention to Germany. “Afterall, he will be so gravely disappointed at your absence. My heart breaks for the poor man.” He clutched his chest for dramatic effect.

Realization dawned on Ludwig. So that’s what they were getting at. “Anything left from the third stooge, Erzsébet? Or is that enough from the peanut gallery?”

She did have something but didn’t want to add fuel to the fire. He was chewing through his cheek enough as it was already. “What was that? I don’t speak German.” She spoke, naturally, in perfect German. This won her groans from Roderich and Gilbert, who had received that joke many times before, and a stare with deadened eyes from Ludwig.

“Fine! I’ll go! Are you both happy?” Ludwig got ready to chew them both out before something clicked. “Wait. Roderich, you can’t stay here. If we’re all gone, who are you going to freeload off?”

“Must you be so rude in your phrasing?” Roderich crossed his arms over his chest. “Have you considered that having all of you not even on the same continent as me might be what I want? I would enjoy a quiet New Years with a glass of champagne while strolling through the city.”

Erzsébet rubbed a hand along his forearm. “It’s ok to say you’ll miss us. You’re the one who wanted to see us all today.”

Ludwig nodded. “And you typically show up here, unannounced.” He chuckled, remembering something. “Once you’ve had a few drinks, you start blathering on about how lonely it is in Vienna and how lovely it was during the war to have everyone living together.”

Roderich opened his mouth to protest. That sort of thing was supposed to be private and never mentioned again! Unfortunately, Gilbert reentered the room, shaking his phone in his hands. “Just got word back from the boys that they’re all going. And you know what that means, Roddy? The only person to make you feel like a man-”

“Fine, you lot win! I’ll go! We’ll all go!” He buried his head in his hands. “That is the last time I confide in either of you two. Blackmailing me like that, how low.” He shook his head.

Gilbert clapped him on the shoulder hard, causing Roderich to wince. “Relax, this really isn’t so bad.”

---

New York.

The four of them sat in complete silence, cramped in the back of a taxi. They had landed only four hours before and found themselves completely jetlagged. Gilbert had his head buried in Erzsébet’s shoulder. They both were propped up against the window. “Why did you drag me to this thing?”

She was too drained to fight back. “Because I’m an idiot.” If she closed her eyes, the continuous stopping and starting of the car felt like being rocked to sleep. There was a certain peace and rhythm to it. Her eyelids began fluttering down, down, down.

“Sir, pull over here please. We can walk the rest of the way.” Ludwig handed the man a twenty, jerking awake the drowsy trio besides him. As the most accustomed to making this flight, he was least affected by it. “Come on, get out. We’re a block away. This will perk you three right up.”

This displeased Roderich greatly. Walking, in these shoes? They were meant for completing an outfit, not for any sort of movement. “Oh, why do we care to be on time. This damn thing will be lasting the whole night.” At Ludwig’s aggrieved look, he rolled his eyes. “Fine, we’ll have it your way.”

“Of course, the one time I’m wearing heels. They’re worthless, you can’t do anything in them but stand around uselessly.” Erzsébet was having her own version of the same problem. She leaned against a wall to take them off. “Now I’ll have to walk barefoot in this grimy place.”

“You won’t. Your knight in shining armor is here to save the day.” Gilbert scooped her up bridal style, grinning from ear-to-ear. “Nothing to fret about now, Liebling.”

She gently caressed his cheek. “Quite the gentleman tonight, huh?” She leaned in against him, laughing against the crook of his neck. “I could get used to traveling around like this. I may have a job for you.”

Hearing their giggling and affectionate words, Roderich couldn’t help rolling his eyes. With all his might, he caught up to Ludwig to put further distance between himself and them. Hearing Gilbert’s low voice singing something indecipherable sent a further wave of nausea through him. “Don’t they make you sick too? It’s disgusting.”

“Hmm? Oh, them.” Ludwig chuckled. He’d been born into that weird triangle, and yet, it never ceased to amuse him. “Please, they’ve been doing that in front of me since I was a child. You get used to it.” A pause. Another chuckle. “Why see them so often if you can’t stand it still? One might think you’re a masochist.” The last word lilted up another octave. He couldn’t help it; he’d inherited his brother’s love of for annoying Roderich.

“Don’t imply things. It’s unbecoming.” Roderich shoved his hands into his coat, partly from the bite of the wind and partly to give him something to do. “Who else would I spend my time with? I have no other friends.”

Ludwig gave him a pitying look. Thankfully, before he could say anything in response, they were before Alfred’s door. Loud music could be heard booming from the other side. He politely rang the doorbell. No answer. He rang it again. “He must not be able to hear. Maybe I should call someone to let us in.”

“For Christ’s sake, Lud, we’re not vampires! Just open the damn door!” Gilbert pushed him aside and shoved the door open. Inside the home laid a different world. Sparkling balloons kissed the ceiling. Strobe lights flashed in the center, creating a dance floor. Glitter clung to the floor and women’s bodies. Some big singer, none of them knew who, stood on stage, performing her biggest hits for the receptive audience. The smell of smoke hung in the air as fireworks went off in the backyard. It was lavish, it was gaudy, it was quintessentially American.

Gilbert’s eyes traveled immediately to the promised fountain of beer. He thirstily filled a cup with some and took a sip, only to spit it back out. “My God, this is revolting! It tastes like piss!” He took out a flask of the good stuff he’d smuggled in from home out of his pocket to take the rancid flavor out of his mouth. His first goal of the night was already ruined. “Where did Ludwig go?”

“He raced off to go find Feliciano. He went…” Roderich’s voice trailed off as he tried remembering where in the sea of people Ludwig had been absorbed. His bearings were completely lost. “It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Erzsébet sidled up to Gilbert, a devilish smirk on her face. “You know, Alfred’s got plenty of rooms here. What do you say about sneaking away and having a good, long nap?”

He snaked his arms around her waist. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.” They began laughing like school children, enjoying their little conspiracy.

Roderich’s irritation grew further. He began tapping his foot, needing somewhere to put his frustrated energy. “You two don’t need to play so coy. Or, if you must, I would expect you to be more creative than using napping as a euphemism.”

Blank stares met him. “Roddy, we’re literally going to take a nap. We’re both exhausted.” Gilbert began elbowing him in the side. Roderich didn’t trust the glint in his eyes. “If you’re so worried about our sex life, I can fill you in on the details.”

Before Roderich could even respond, Erzsébet was dragging Gilbert away, his guffawing thankfully swallowed by the noise of the crowd. Roderich sighed, relieved to be alone. A new problem arose. Now, what would he do, who would he follow? He looked around the room, hoping for some familiar face. No one. A mass of strangers, swaying along to the music and spilling their drinks. Nothing he wanted to be apart of.

Where were his manners? He’d been graciously invited to another person’s home and he hadn’t even thanked the host yet. Being around all these ruffians had caused him to forget himself. Straightening his suit jacket, he began braving the throngs of people. Along the way, between getting nudged around by delirious dancers, a glass of wine had made its way into his hand. He didn’t mind. Surprisingly, it was of excellent quality. He suspected it must’ve been the Italians’ gracious donation to the festivities.

There in the backyard was the host. Alfred was bumping and grinding away in the center, dirty dancing with an incredibly inebriated Arthur. Francis was yoking them up, benefiting himself from the hordes of beautiful men and women attending. Roderich would rather avoid them, but it would go against the rules of decorum he so stringently followed. Mustering up all his courage, he approached.

“Alfred. Alfred! America!” Finally, America’s attention was caught over the music. “I sincerely want to thank you for the invitation. I wish I had attended one of your parties sooner, but I’m usually quite busy this time of year, what with the holidays.” He was lying through his teeth. He wanted nothing more than to be back in Vienna. This was the kind of nightmare scenario only Gilbert could drag him into.

“Yeah, dude, no probs. You’re totally invited here whenever. Me casa, is your casa.” It appeared that Alfred was long gone as well. “Dude, you should’ve been here hours ago. We’ve been pregaming it since nine this morning.” His laugh, which was always obnoxious, was even more grating. “Tomorrow’s gonna be the most intense hangover in the history of hangovers, right Artie?”

Arthur had lost the ability to speak and was only able to communicate in a series of grunts. Sensing Roderich’s horror, Francis swooped in. “Come, let’s go inside to the bar there.” He began steering them away from the center of the party, tutting his lips. “This is no good, why did you come? Your weak constitution can’t handle these sorts of events. Who dragged you here?” He shook his head, knowing the answer already. “No, don’t tell me. You have to stick up for yourself more.”

“I’ll have you know, perhaps I wanted to come on my own. I’m capable of deciding things for myself, unprompted.” He didn’t have to see Francis’ face to know the reaction to what he said. He sighed. “Who else would I have spent my time with? No one wants to spend New Years alone.” He realized they were still speaking English, instead of switching to French like Francis preferred in one-on-one conversations. Despite not showing it, the other man must’ve been drinking heavily too.

Suddenly, Francis turned around. His index finger traced Roderich’s jawline. “No, you are too beautiful to ever be alone. It’s good you came tonight. Come with me, I can make you forget all your worries for the night.” He allowed Francis to kiss his cheek, his breath stinging of stale booze. “It’s been too long since we’ve been together. Please, honor me with the memory of how you win with love.”

Despite himself, Roderich had to admit it was tempting. If everyone else was going to have their fun tonight – or, so he assumed, he had no plans on asking – then why shouldn’t he? “My apologies, but it seems that memories are all you’ll have tonight. From me, anyways.” It wouldn’t feel right. Not when he was so clearly off his game. Leaving him staring after him, Roderich took a spot at the bar.

Nursing a glass of wine, he considered that this wasn’t so bad. At home, in front of his favorite café, he enjoyed people watching. It was a peaceful way of passing the time, to see all the people rush by and create little stories for where they were going. Normally, it was quite easy to get into it, but he saw too many people he knew. Romano with his arms around two women’s waist. The Netherlands being yelled at over money by an irate woman. Belgium shimmied to the bar and back, laughing with a group of girls she’d befriended. Everyone was here, everyone was having a good time. The only mystery was why wasn’t he.

Before the full wave of self-pity could sweep him, he spotted Germany and Italy chatting on a couch. It was a sign, a sign that he wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the night in the corner. Never in his life had he been so excited to see Feliciano. He even greeted the man with a warm hug, ignoring the frustration rolling off Ludwig in waves.

“Austria! Ludwig was telling me you were here, but I didn’t believe him! How exciting, having the both of you here!” Feliciano was practically vibrating with joy. He was overcome with emotion, but that came as no surprise to his companions. It’s how he always was. “Sit down next to me, I can sit on Ludwig’s lap!”

Roderich complied, ignoring the daggers Ludwig was shooting at him. “Well, it would be rude not to.” He full attention was on Feliciano. “Tell me, how have you been? Did you only recently arrive?” With that, he was off to the races. The Italian could talk a mile a minute, filling up all the space in the room. For once, Roderich didn’t find it annoying. It gave him something to focus on, something to find enjoyment in. And he was having a good time. The kid had grown up to be entertaining in his own way.

The same could not be said for Ludwig. The vein in his forehead was throbbing. Before this, he had been having a nice evening, much to his chagrin. Having his cousin tag along was not something he wanted. He cleared his throat. “Where’s Gilbert and Erzsébet? Did you lose track of them?”

“They ran off as soon as we got here to sleep together.” Roderich realized his mistake. “To nap! Supposedly they’re jet-lagged.” His face felt extremely hot.

“I guess they woke up cause there they are. Gil! Erzsi!” Feliciano jumped up, waving towards them at the bar. They began waving them over. “Let’s all go over to them! I wanna say hi!”

While his date was preoccupied, Ludwig had been furiously shaking his head at them. “No!” This didn’t need to become a family affair. He wouldn’t have it become that. “Actually, France is looking for us. Let’s go find him.” Not waiting for an answer, he dragged away a very startled Feliciano.

Once again abandoned, Roderich slinked back to the bar. As soon as he arrived, he was ensnared by Gilbert’s arm. He could smell scotch on his breathe as he spoke. “What have you been up to, Roddy? You better be out there, mingling with everyone, making me proud.”

His silence was telling. Erzsébet put a hand to her chest, sighing. “Oh, he’s so lonely. Gil, we have to take him in.” Much to Roderich’s dismay, they both were far gone. They couldn’t have been sleeping for long to be this drunk. That, or they kept downing drink after drink in short succession. He wasn’t sure which was more comforting.

His protestations that he wasn’t some stray puppy were drowned out by Gilbert. “Of course, we can! Who else would take care of him? Oh, don’t look so depressed, Roddy.” He leaned over the bar. “Can we get a round of kamikazes?”

Roderich stared down at his little glass. He sniffed at it and scrunched his nose up. What a foul concoction. “I appreciate it, but I don’t see how this will improve my mood.”

“It’ll help you loosen up. You’ve been uptight ever since we were on the plane.” Erzsébet gently elbowed him in the side. “I know this isn’t your thing. Try to have a little fun, Roderich. No one here is going to judge you for it.”

She herself looked so at peace, didn’t he want a little bit of that? Besides, the two of them were staring at him so expectantly. Did it matter this much to them that he felt included and part of their little group? He had thought they only kept him around out of pity, perhaps it was more than that. “You two are a horrible influence on me.” He knocked the shot back, met with rapturous cheering from them.

Another three rounds and Roderich himself was now feeling the effects. His ears were so warm, his feet so tingly. It took all his balance to lean into the bar counter for support. His vision was a little fuzzy, but he still felt aware of everything around him. That awareness was spent on watching them – their arms intertwined, feeding another shot to each other, foreheads pressed together while giggling. “Doesn’t that get tiring?” Maybe it wasn’t for them, but he found it exhausting.

That snapped them out of their fog. Gilbert was grinning like an idiot. “Why would it get tiring? I’ve spent lifetimes waiting for her. I’ve got her now, so completely. You want me to back off for your comfort? Please, I couldn’t if I wanted to.” He had been staring into Erzsébet’s eyes as he spoke. He leaned in, only to find he was kissing air.

Erzsébet had been speaking at the same time as him, giving Roderich difficulty in following along with them both. All her usual inhibitions in speaking on this subject towards her ex were gone. “I had a crush on him growing up and now I get to live out a fairy tale. He’s right, we’re made for each other. And,” a devilish look settled on her face. When Gilbert went in for his kiss, she had pulled Roderich towards her to whisper in his ear. She dished on all the vulgar reasons for their behavior.

“Good God, Erzsi! I don’t want to hear all that!” He gently pushed her away and stole her drink, finishing it in one gulp. He hoped to forget what she had said, but she’d painted too vivid of a picture for him. “Why would you think that appropriate?”

“Wait, what did you say?” Gilbert leaned down so she could repeat it. “You tease.” They locked lips, grabbing at each other’s clothes.

Roderich didn’t know whose tongue he was seeing, but he knew he wanted it gone. He pulled them apart. “Holy shit, enough! Enough! Are you two forgetting that I’m here?”

“You’re right, Roderich, I’m sorry.” She pulled him into a deep kiss. Once satisfied, she let him go with a laugh. “There, now it’s just like old times. Oh, but what were we saying before? Right! I wouldn’t mind if you told me whatever you got up to. It’s been, what? A hundred years since the divorce? What happens in our personal lives now doesn’t matter.”

At the mention of their divorce, Gilbert ordered another round of shots. He shoved one onto Roderich, who certainly didn’t want to be drinking to that. At this point, why did it matter? Why did anything matter? Seeing whatever that mess was in the backyard, hearing in detail about Erzsébet and Gilbert’s sex life, becoming completely wasted. There was no meaning to this night. “Well, if we’re being honest, there’s nothing to say. I haven’t been with anyone in years.” He clinked glasses with his shocked companions. “Cheers to the life of a bachelor.” He enjoyed his drink.

His admission was a surprising one. Hadn’t this been the man who, during his days of empire, was willing to lie down with anyone if it served his purpose? How could this behavior have so suddenly ceased? It was no wonder he was so perpetually grumpy; it was a much deeper problem than Roderich’s baseline snootiness. Gilbert and Erzsébet shared a look of understanding. A moment of clarity provided them with a new purpose for the night.

Erzsébet began straightening his clothes, smoothing out the wrinkles with her hands. Once she felt her work completed , she combed his hair with her fingers, tucking loose strands behind his ears. “Oh, Roderich, you poor thing.”

For his part, Gilbert ran through a list of people he knew in his head. “Francis would be an easy one. But then you run the risk of catching syphilis and that’s no good. You shouldn’t go near strangers, you can’t talk to anyone.” He drummed his fingers against the bar counter. “Natalya’s gorgeous, but no one can handle that.”

This was ridiculous. Roderich didn’t want this. He didn’t want any of this. Why did he allow himself to be strong-armed into this night? “Stop it, I never asked for this. Both of you, you’ve completely lost it.” His head felt woozy and it wasn’t from the drinks. Their pity was dizzying.

If they heard him, they didn’t care. Something else had caught their attention. “Spain!” Damn Prussia’s voice and how it always carried. Spain was snapped to attention and began waving them over. As he was pushed along, Austria decided this was the worst possible outcome of his life. Forced to travel to a country he found the bane of the civilized world, his only company his ex-wife and the man who was quickly becoming his worst enemy again and humiliating himself before his ex-husband. It would almost be comical if it wasn’t reality.

“My life is a tragedy of errors.” Austria sighed wistfully. He suddenly missed the days where he was on top of the world and wouldn’t be made to suffer such indignities. Though, if he allowed himself to be honest, how much they cared was oddly charming if they weren’t so overzealous.

Spain was equally thrown off by the sight before him, but for much different reasons. “Oh, you three are still keeping up with that getting along thing. I would’ve thought all of you would be tired of each other by now.” He rubbed the back of his neck, laughing. “I miss the fighting, it was much more interesting.”

“If it’ll get you in the mood, we can start hitting each other.” Gilbert shrugged, ignoring the horror on Antonio’s face. “Put the lust back in bloodlust, you know.”

Roderich was staring intently at the floor. He thanked the dim lighting for hiding his blush. “Gilbert, I swear to god. If you keep speaking, it’ll be like the old days in more ways than one.” He spoke through gritted teeth, trying to control the outburst that was begging to be let loose.

Gilbert tried to wink, but due to his intoxication it appeared more as a twitch. “I understand completely. New tactic. I’ll help you loosen up instead.” He started vigorously massaging Roderich’s shoulders. “Shit, you’ve got a lot of tension. What’s got you so stressed out?”

To make matters worse, Erzsébet began giving him a pep talk. She was bouncing around on the balls of her feet with her fists in front of her like a prize fighter. “Rod, you’ve got this. You’ve done this before, you can do it again. Give him the full force of your charm! Start smiling, it makes you look pretty!”

Antonio had not moved from his spot. He watched them closely, unable to contain his laughter. For him, this was an amusing little skit. A performance that could be fully enjoyed. Wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, he smiled. “Are they alright? What’s going on here?”

“They think I’m pathetic so they’re trying to be my wingmen.” Roderich shrugged Gilbert off, glaring at him. “They’re so out of it, I don’t think they realize how much more harm than good they could be doing.”

“Oh, who are they trying to set you up with?”

The three stooges ceased their nonsense. Could Antonio really be that oblivious? Was it not painfully obvious? Then they remembered who they were dealing with. Of course he would be like this. Slowly, acting as if they were dealing with a startled animal, Erzsébet and Gilbert backed away. Roderich could still feel their eyes on them, but for the first time didn’t care.

“That part doesn’t really matter.” Despite the shift in the mood, he wasn’t about to admit his hand so early. That would be more embarrassing than everything that had happened previously. No, not while a spark of hope just reignited itself. “What I’m more interested is in you.” His tongue was too loose. “In what’s been going on with you! How’ve you been, why you’re here.” It was a lackluster recovery, but Antonio didn’t seem to pay it mind.

“You’re really only interested in small talk with me? Roddy, I think we know each other better than that.” Antonio gently bumped him with his shoulder. “I’m not the mystery here. You’re out here, partying, drinking the night away. I couldn’t believe it at first. I thought it was your evil twin.”

Roderich swirled his glass of wine in his hand. “I don’t quite believe it myself. But the mark of a good man is in his acceptance and willingness to change, to be open to experience.” He chuckled, a crass joke coming to mind. “And you know me, I’ll try anything once.”

That won him a surprised and appreciative laugh. Roderich forgot how comfortable Antonio was, how easy his presence was. A part of him had missed this, a part of him he had tucked away many years ago. This was the man that started it all for him. There was a nostalgia there, a sense of belonging and home. Was it memories as substitute for any remaining chemistry? Who was to say? Certainly, he didn’t find himself caring at this moment. Hard questions could be answered tomorrow. Let tonight be for spontaneity.

As they spoke, the physical and emotional distance kept growing smaller. It was only when their arms were brushing against each other that Roderich fully noticed the lack of personal space. He found himself appraising Antonio’s figure, starting from his toes to his calves to his thighs to his…assets to his chest and lingering in his eyes. “I forgot how nicely you cleaned up. You’ve always looked-” Divine? Beautiful? Stunning? Flirting had never been his forte, much to aggrievement of both his spouses. “Resplendent.”

“Oh, don’t make me blush. Wait, here.” Antonio began futzing with Roderich’s tie, chuckling. “Didn’t get someone to tie the knot for you this time? Let me fix it for you.” In a fluid motion, he made the tie a bit tighter than needed. Their eyes remained locked the whole time, a smirk on the corner of Antonio’s lips and a blush darkening Roderich’s face.

Uproarious cheering broke out throughout the home. The ball had dropped. The new year had begun. Without saying a word, Antonio pulled him in. Their lips met and it felt like renewal. Whatever remained of Roderich’s restraint fell away when Antonio tugged at his lip. What brought him back to reality was the overjoyed sounds of Erzsébet and Gilbert, celebrating in their victory.

He rolled his eyes, a thousand different things coming to mind. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish. What could he bark at them? Their actions had been maddening throughout the whole night. And, while he found how they had behaved degrading for all involved, what did it show him? That, in their very strange way, they truly cared about him. That they didn’t view him as the third wheel who continued to tag along out of habit, but as part of their weird little group was. Whatever the result of the rest of the night, he considered this to be more important.

Friendship. It was the only kind of friendship either of them were capable of – messy and complex and interwoven in ways no other parties could ever fully understand. He valued it most of all.

Roderich held up his watch and tapped it. He couldn’t believe himself. “It’s midnight. You two better catch up with the rest of us.” For the first time in his life, he actually laughed as they grabbed for each other and began kissing (he supposed that’s what it was, it was far too animalistic for his tastes) with frantic energy.

Antonio looped his arm through Roderich’s and began steering him towards the door. “Come on, Cinderella. I’ll walk you back to your hotel room.”

“Such a gentleman.” What a way to ring in the new year.

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thatoneitaliangirl · 5 years ago

Text

Spain x Reader Angst(?)

Okay, so I was asked by this lovely person - @soiexist to write a Spain x Reader Angsty fic and I did my best! I don’t think it came out very angsty . . . But I honestly tried! It was originally gonna be a ‘reader is in an arranged marriage but falls in love with someone else’ type thing but it kinda morphed into its own Kingdom! AU- ya know what, I’m just gonna let you read it, how about that? Also, apparently I’m incapable of writing anything less than 1,000 words, so . . . Here’s a 7,124-word story! Hehe . . .

Today had to be the most terrible day in the life of _____ _______. It marks the end of her life as she knows it.

"You can't do this to me, Dad! I'm not an object you can just sell off!" Her father sighs and places his head on his hands.

"I'm not selling you off! Can't you just do as I ask?"

"As if I have the choice!"

"_____," Her mother speaks kindly, attempting to calm her daughter. "Please, you know why we're doing this! It's for your family, can't you just do it for us? So we could have a better life?" _____ scoffs.

"Give you a better life while mine is over? Whatever happened to us sticking together through thick and thin? That no matter what, we'd get through things together?" The young woman asks, tears streaming down her face.

"That was before the king threatened to take our farm! Without this land, our family will starve; your brothers and sisters will die! Please, _____ . . . We're begging you!" Her father gets down on his knees, grasping the bottom of his daughter's dress and pleads for her cooperation. _____ rips her dress from his hands and runs out of the door and into the woods.

To think that her parents would even consider giving her away to save their farm! It's true that the girl's beauty had attracted many suitors, some offering more than just a healthy swine or a heard of bovine. Some offered money, buildings, and even other children for one of _____'s siblings, but every time her parents refused. They always said they would never sell the love of their daughter for the betterment of their lives.

But now that it's the king, their suddenly all too keen on giving away the hand of their daughter. True, the farm was threatened, but they have the means to leave! _____ knows her father has money stashed away for an emergency, and losing the farm and having to flee the kingdom seems like a perfect emergency to _____! But her parents are getting older . . . And her siblings are too young to travel that far . . .

Maybe she's being selfish? Leaning up against a tree, _____ stops to take a breath. Sobs rack through her body as she slides down to her knees and covers her eyes with her hands. She has no choice to comply with her parent's and king's wishes . . . Even if she were to go on the run, disobeying the king would make her a fugitive, and Lord knows what he'd do to her family while she was gone.

"Hola! Are you okay?" A cheerful and concerned male voice startles her.

"Uh-um, I . . . " The man before her is the most beautiful man she has ever seen. His short brown hair lays against his face perfectly, his olive-green eyes sparkle in the sunlight, and his smile somehow conveys both happiness and concern at the same time.

"It's okay, chica. I don't bite!" He chuckles and leans up against the tree next to her.

"I'm . . . I'm not sure if I can talk about it . . ."

"Well, that's okay then. How about you just tell me why it makes you upset?" _____ is in utter shock at how this man is talking to her. Most men around here usually couldn't care less about a woman's trivial feelings, but he is actually taking the time to talk to her . . . Then again, he doesn't seem to be from around here.

"I'm afraid . . . " She finally admits, making the strange man frown.

"I'm sorry to hear that! A beautiful woman such as yourself should never have to feel afraid." _____ blushes at the compliment, suddenly very shy. It's true that she's been called beautiful before, but never has she been so by a man like him. She may be the pretty girl of the village, but that isn't saying much. When compared to the royals and nobles, she is as ugly as dirt! This man is as beautiful as a summer sunrise and as bright and cheerful as one too.

"My circumstances are unfortunate. But I've been slowly coming to terms with it and have accepted that I . . . Have no choice." A pregnant silence falls between the two as the bird's chirp and the wind blows through the trees. Her tears have long since dried, and the redness has faded, but the depression of possibly never seeing her family again still weighs heavy on her heart.

"What is your name, chica?" She smiles slightly, happy to tell him. He may be the last man she gets to have a conversation with outside of the court.

"It's _____. _____ _______."

"A beautiful name for a beautiful girl! I am Antonio Fernández Carriedo, but you can call me Toni since we're friends now!" _____ laughs and nods her head.

"Okay, Toni. Thank you for being my friend." A shout in the distance alerts both of them and they stand up. Distant yells of _____'s name are heard, bringing a frown to her face. If only she had a little more time . . .

"It seems this is where we part, friend." She speaks solemnly, hands ringing together.

"It looks like it, chica. But I'll see you again, I'm sure of it!" With those parting words, he walks deeper into the forest, the green foliage swallowing him up.

A few days later, _____ finds herself in her chambers, sulking. It seems the reason the king wanted her was because of some sick goal to have the prettiest woman of each village at his disposal. There were some twenty of them, all forced or sold to the king with barely any hesitation. They range from 26 all the way down to 14, all that was considered to be the prettiest.

And it doesn't seem he wants them for reasons other than to be trophy wives to show off at formal events and to other kingdoms. Only one of the girls claims he made a pass at her while he was drunk one night, but after her instance of staying virtuous, he backed off. He has the reputation of a gentleman, but taking women from their families shows a little contradiction to that.

With a heavy sigh, _____ decides it's best to retire for the night. Each girl has their own room in the old maid quarters with a small lantern and a large window. She heard a rumor by one of the younger girls that the reason they stopped using these rooms for the maids was that the windows were too big and they would jump out to kill themselves . . . She shivers at the thought.

With the sunlight streaming in through the window, _____ closes her eyes and begins to drift off.

'Tap!'

She stirs, slowly slipping into her dreams.

'Tap!'

Opening her eyes, _____ glares at the ceiling. What is that blasted tapping?! She sits up, listening closely.

'Tap!'

Looking over to the window, _____ discovers the tapping is coming from little rocks hitting her window. Confused, she walks over and looks out. Standing on the grass below, a figure is barely visible in the darkness bending over for more pebbles.

"Excuse me, sir," _____ begins, opening the window. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"_____!" An accented voice speaks out.

"Antonio? What are you doing here?" He laughs joyously.

"I told you I'd see you again, chica! I came to talk to you!" Dumbfounded, _____ smiles.

"Well, I'm sorry to inform you that your wish to speak with me is impossible. The palace is heavily guarded; how you even managed to get this far is astonishing."

"I'm talking to you right now, aren't I?" He says with a smug smile. Its true he isn't wrong . . . But a conversation in these conditions is not practical.

"Can you honestly hold a conversation like this where you're from?" He laughs.

"Maybe if you'd let me up, we could talk like normal people, chica?"

"And how exactly would you like me to help you up here? The side entrances are locked after dark and the halls one this side are always guarded."

"I could climb?" _____ scoffs.

"Two stories? If you want to fall and die, then by all means." He rubs his hands together and begins scaling the wall.

"Wh-What?!" She shouts, surprised. She didn't think he was stupid enough to actually do it!

"Ah, be quiet, chica! You don't want to wake up the whole palace!"

"Antonio, are you insane?!" She whispers yells, attempting to not wake up the rest of the girls.

"Insane about you!" He smirks as a deep blush spreads across her face. He makes his way all the way up to her window and stops, hands holding on the windowsill, face inches from hers.

"You know, chica, your eyes are very pretty. I could stare into them for hours." Her blush deepens as she melts at his compliment.

"Th-Thank you, Toni. I never thought they were anything special." He reaches out and brushes some hair behind her ear, gazing into her eyes lovingly.

"Everything about you is special. I knew that from the moment I laid eyes on you." Completely mesmerized by the look in his eyes, _____ begins to slowly lean in, as does Toni.

"_____, I- Ah!" Toni's foot slips and he falls to the ground, landing on his back with a thump.

"Toni?!" With a cough and a laugh, Toni slowly raises his hand to give a thumbs up.

"I survived by your love, chica!"

"What?" She says laughing.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" She bursts into laughter, Toni joining her from down below.

"I suppose the rumors aren't true, then." She giggles.

This goes on for months. Every night, Antonio shows up to her window, climbing up the wall and even entering her chambers. They sit and talk for hours, just simply enjoying each other's company until _____ falls asleep. Not that Antonio minds. It gives him an excuse to take in her blissful and stress-free features.

While awake, she's constantly plagued with thoughts of her family and what the king has planned for her and the girls. She tells him of her plans for escape if the time ever calls for it, and how she tries to take care of the younger girls that often break down. He admires her outspokenness and her caring personality.

During their talks, _____ found out that Antonio was from a neighboring kingdom that was on the brink of war with her own. His family came by horse through the woods and have been living there for the past year, surviving off nature and living in secret.

When she found that out, she tried convincing him to stop visiting her in fear that he could be killed, but he refused. He insists that a night without seeing her beautiful face is like a hundred years of torture. She finds it very romantic, but she still worries. He tells her about his family and how close they are despite their dysfunctionality.

And as the nights go by and Antonio continues to visit, _____ falls more and more in love with him.

Hearing the soft tapping at her window, a smile spreads to her face as she runs over and opes it.

"Toni?"

"Of course, chica! Who else would it be?" He climbs up, a smile spread ear to ear, and grabs both of her hands in his.

"_____, I can't stay for long tonight, so I'm going to have to say this quick."

"Okay?"

"My family and I have to leave tomorrow night to go back to our Kingdom." _____'s eyes go wide and her hands tighten around his.

"What? Why?" She begins to panic, but Antonio shushes her.

"It's okay! I want you to come with me!"

"Go with you . . . ? But, what about-"

"Your family will be fine. And so will the other girls! You just have to trust me! Have I ever failed you before?" It's true that he's kept every promise he's ever made to her, no matter how little. But this seems just a little too far fetched.

"I do trust you, Toni-"

"Then you'll come with me, right?" He looks at her with begging eyes; he always has so much emotion in those eyes . . . His deeps pools of olive green shine in the moonlight beaming through her window and pull her in, mind and soul.

"Yes." The answer falls from her lips before she can stop herself and Antonio pulls her into a tight hug.

"Thank you! I can't wait for you to meet my family! And I can't wait to meet your's! We're going to have a big wedding with lots of food and everybody will be there!" He pulls back, still holding her in his arms.

"And I will love you till the end of my days." A tap at the window startles both of them and he lets go.

"That's my brother," He opens the window and waves down, climbing out and holding on to the sill. "There's still more I have to help with, but be ready tomorrow at the same time as usual. I will be there to get you." He begins to climb down but _____ stops him.

"Promise?" He smiles softly and nods.

"I wouldn't leave you here for all the tomatoes in the world, chica."

The next morning comes and _____ is overly nervous. She goes about her day like normal; breakfast with the king, etiquette lessons with the girls, a walk around the palace gardens. But when she gets to lunch, the king doesn't seem to be there. It's normal for him to be gone by lunch some days, usually for business, but he always gives a heads up the day before. The other girls are quiet and the staff are trembling as she sits down at her usual spot.

"If you don't mind me asking,-"

"The whereabouts of the king are none of your business, child!" Mrs. Baker, the head of the palace staff, states harshly. She never was one to be nice to the girls, mainly _____ for speaking out, but her rude tone is certainly uncalled for. But even though _____ would normally talk back, she bites her tongue. Something about all of this is not sitting right with her.

After lunch, _____ and the rest of the girls are sent to their chambers early and are told not to leave. Her heart thumps in her chest as she packs up her bags for later when Antonio comes. She only takes little things, wanting to stay light on her feet in case they get caught by guards. But her mind keeps racing about what could be going on today.

She lays back on her bed and sighs. She worries about what the king will do to her family when he finds that she's gone. Will he torture them? Or will he kill them painlessly? Antonio did say not to worry about it, but it's hard not too. He's just one man, he can't protect his family and hers at the same time! She'll have to ask him about it when they leave and are safely off the palace grounds. And so, she waits.

And waits.

The clock strikes midnight and Antonio is still nowhere to be seen. Every little tap or ting at her window makes her jump up, expecting her love but only getting disappointment instead. She waits for hours, finally seeing the light of the morning sun break through the clouds, and there was no sign of Antonio.

Did he forget about her? That was simply impossible! He's come every night for the past four months! There's no way. Perhaps something happened and his brothers and he had to leave early? But he still would have tried something to tell her . . . Tears stream down her face as the worst-case scenarios float through her head.

She only manages to dry her tears, when a guard knocks on her door and informs her she and the rest of the girls are needed in the throne room. The only times she's ever been in the throne room has been for social gatherings with nobles or parties. Other than that, the girls aren't allowed anywhere near there.

_____ changes her dress and fixes her hair before being escorted by a guard. The other girls also come out of their rooms, one by one being taken to the throne room.

There, sitting in all his glory is King Arthur, legs crossed and thick eyebrows knitted together in a frown.

"You may be wondering why I've called you all here," He speaks, ringed fingers tapping against the gold armrest of his throne.

"And why I seem to be . . . Less than pleased." His emerald eyes scan across the girls, each one refusing to make eye contact.

"It has come to my attention that one of you is a traitor." The girls all gasp and look at each other, confused as to why one of the others would do something like that. It's true that they all hated being there, but to defy the king in such a way could lead to death.

"Yes, yes, it's all very shocking! But, unfortunately, it's true. One of your sisters has gone against the crown!" He smiles wickedly as he switches his crossed legs, signaling the guards to the door.

"But, I am a gentleman after all, and I'm willing to forgive you under one condition," The guards come in with a man. His hands are tied behind his back and a burlap sack is placed over his head. The guards make him fall to his knees in front of the king, hurting him in the process. "You come forward, pledge your mind . . . and body, to me, and make yourself useful by telling me of all the things you've done with this man,"

He gestures to the man on the floor in front of the girls. "Of course, if you don't, I have plenty of ways to make you talk." The sack is ripped from the man's head, making _____'s heart stop. Sat there on his knees is Antonio, bloodied and bruised, lip busted and hair splayed across his sweating face. He looks up at the king and smiles.

"Ahh, Arthur! Long-time, so see, eh?" Arthur frowns and rolls his eyes.

"Don't talk to me as if you know me, Antonio. You and that frog Francis can die in a pit of Hellfire!" Arthur grits his teeth as Toni just chuckles.

"You won't be laughing for long!" The king looks at the guard, and he hits Antonio in the face with his metal-covered hand making _____ cringe. She wants nothing more than to run over to him and stop his pain, but she knows that if she does, she could possibly die. The guard continues to beat on the Spaniard, blood from his wounds splattering on the floor. A few more hits and Arthur raises his hand making the guard halt his movements.

"So, you won't reveal yourself? What, does seeing this man here get beat because of you not make you feel sorry? You truly are a worthy spy." He lifts up his scepter in the air dramatically, before smirking like the devil and pointing it at the youngest girl, Marcy. Her eyes widen to the size of saucers as she's pulled towards the king by a guard. She tries to protest, but she's thrown onto the lap of Arthur and held there by the sick man. He runs his fingers through her golden blond curls and lays his head on top of hers as his other arm wraps around her waist to hold her still.

"Ah, young Marcy. You truly are the definition of innocence . . . " His fingers stroke the outline of her chin making her tremble in fear. Her young, cherub-like features are the reason she was seen as one of the prettiest and her golden hair and ocean blue eyes made her absolutely stunning. But she's just a kid. A scared kid that has become something of a little sister to _____. Arthur looks back at the rest of the girls and glares.

"Come forward now," In the blink of an eye, Arthur tilts her head back and holds a jewel-studded dagger to her neck. "Or she dies." He presses it harder as he looks across at all the girls making _____'s lip tremble. She could never live with herself of Marcy died because of her!

"One," Arthur begins the countdown, eyes staring hard at the girls.

"Two," _____'s eyes begin to water and her mouth goes dry seeing Marcy cry for help and beg for her life.

"Three-"

"Wait!" _____ yells out, stoping the king from slicing the young girl's neck open. He smirks, dropping Marcy to the ground and placing his dagger back into its holder. Marcy scrambles to her feet and runs into the arms of another girl, balling her eyes out.

"It's me! I'm the one that has been seeing Antonio!" Toni's head falls hearing _____'s voice speak out. The king sticks out his pointer finger and wiggles it in a 'come here' fashion.

"You are very brave to defy me, _____." She stands before him, face hard and eyes glaring.

"Take Ms. _______ here to my chambers. And take that blasted Spaniard out of my sight!" Both are grabbed by guards and taken away through different doors. _____ cringes at the tight grip the guard has on her upper arm and pulls away.

"Let go of me, you bastard!"

"You kiss your mother with that mouth, bella?" _____ scoffs and crosses her arms as the guard pushes her forward.

"Keep walking." She glares at the ground in front of her as she walks in the direction of the king's chambers, but her resolve is slowly crumbling. What is this man going to do to her? This sick and twisted individual who would buy women and scare a child just to get what he wants? Who would torture a man without any proof of him being a traitor?

But wait . . . She doesn't know that. What if he does have evidence? She knows Antonio and his family are from a kingdom on thin ice with her own, but he never told her why he was here. And if that's the case, does that mean he was just using her to get inside details of the palace? She pretty much told him everything about her day every night.

He knows her routine to a tee and therefore knows the kings aswell. He told her that he loves her . . . Was that just a lie? The large doors to Arthur's bedroom are opened in front of her and a stunning bed covered in green and gold sheets is displayed before her. If she wasn't so scared, she'd be in awe at the amazing and comfortable site.

"This is your stop, bella," He nudges her inside and begins to close the door. "And if you happen to want to see . . . The traitor . . . He's in the dungeon under the palace. I'm sure you know the way." With that, he closes the door and leaves _____ to wonder about the large room.

It's very luxurious and expensive-looking, with extravagantly painted walls and gold-lined curtains.

Royal robes for all occasions are lined up on mannequins along a back wall and a large portrait of the king hangs on the wall above a fireplace.

"You like what you see, love?" _____ jumps, quickly spinning around to be face to face with the king. She didn't even hear the ruler come in! He laughs at her surprise, and steps closer.

"I'm sorry to have startled you, _____, but you looked so in awe at my chambers. I couldn't bear taking that away from you!" _____ rolls her eyes.

"Get to the point. Why did you send me here and not the dungeons?" He smirks, leaning up against a wall.

"Fiesty. You never dared to talk to me like this before, _____. What has that traitor put in your head that would make you betray your own king?"

"Nothing. I never betrayed you or sold any information," Her eyes soften and she takes a few breaths to stop herself from tearing up. "I'm in love with him!" Arthur's eyes go wide.

"You love him? Well, isn't this a surprise," He walks forward, grabbing her arm and throwing her on the bed. "You love that man, but does he love you?" The king laughs at her confusion, taking off his crown and placing it on a bedside table.

"Antonio doesn't care about you! He saw that you were a gullible and naive little girl, and used you to get information so he could de-throne me," Tears begin to stream down the young woman's face as she backs up on Arthur's bed. "You fell for his charms, as they all do, and you actually believed him? What, did he tell you you were going to run away together? That all your problems would be solved and you could live happily ever after like some damn fairytale?" She nods, sobs escaping through her mouth.

"Well guess what? He played you like a guitar and what do you have to show for it? A broken heart and the label of a traitor? I've known Antonio for a very long time, love, and trust me when I tell you that you are nothing more to him than a source of information that fell right into his lap!" _____ completely breaks down. She can barely see through her tears as her body desperately tries to breathe in through the sobs.

She doesn't want to believe what Arthur is telling her, but the more she thinks about it, the more it makes sense. It couldn't have been just a coincidence they met that day in the forest. And how did he know where to find her that first night he visited? Puzzle pieces begin to get put together that _____ has pushed in the back of her mind for so long, that she just can't take it. Her heart is breaking . . . How could she have been so blind? Arthur sighs and pats her on the head.

"I understand, love. It's hard to take in. But I'll help you through these troubling times," Running his hands through her hair, he soothes her and uses his thumbs to clear away her tears.

"I will help you get your revenge."

_____ gently tip-toes through the dark halls of the palace using only the light of the moon to get through. That strange guard mentioned that Antonio was in the dungeon under the castle, so that is where she's headed. Fortunately for her, she knows exactly where the dungeon is due to some curious exploring one Saturday.

It wasn't very hard for her to sneak out of the king's chambers since his snoring was obnoxiously loud. She just had to time it with opening the door. The king insisted that she sleep in his room for the night to 'help ease her grieving soul' despite her insistence on sleeping in her own room. She's just glad he had a cot brought in.

Slowly turning the nob on the door, _____ creeps into the main hall of the dungeon, careful to not wake the sleeping guards against the wall. With a gulp and some light steps, she walks down the hall looking into each cell for a mop of brown waves. Finally, around the corner, she comes across a cell with a man sitting in the corner facing the wall.

"Antonio?" _____ whispers while grabbing the bars to the cell. His head lifts up and slowly looks towards her, a mixture of relief and sadness falling over his usually happy face.

"_____?!" He gets up as fast as he can and limps over to her. Tears begin falling over both of their cheeks.

"I thought he was going to kill you, ______! You have no idea how worried I've been!" _____ reaches through the bars and places her hand on his swollen and bruised cheek.

"What did they do to you, Toni?" He smiles, wincing, and laughs lightly.

"You think you could still love me after a few scars?"

"You could be the ugliest person in the world and I'd still love you, Toni."

"You're not giving me much confidence, chica." She laughs at his stupid joke, but frowns, pulling her hand back much to Toni's disappointment.

"I need you to be honest with me, Antonio." He nods, grabbing onto the bars next to her hands.

"Did you use me?" His eyes go wide at the acquisition.

"What? No! . . . Okay, maybe in the beginning." Her frown deepens to a glare.

"But here me out! Please, chica?" She sighs and nods, her heart thumping hard due to her anxiety. She desperately wants what Arthur said to not be true, but here Antonio is, basically confirming.

"When I first met you, I knew why you were crying."

"Is that the girl, Antonio?" I nod, confirming to my brother. I had overheard the other day what the king's royal advisor asked of them. How he could ever ask such a thing is beyond me! But this just confirms what our sources said about him. He's a sick individual. He's been threatening our kingdom for a long time now, and since we're smaller we've been too scared to do anything. But thanks to our sources, we were given leeway into the kingdom through the woods. This girl could be very valuable to us given her new position in the palace. I'm sure she must want some type of payback.

"Okay. I'll talk-"

"No, you shouldn't." I cut my brother off.

"What? And why the Hell not, huh? Do you think I'm incompetent?!" I shake my head and laugh at my little brother.

"No, no! I'd never think that, Lovi! You just have a bad habit of being scary to people. I think this chica needs a more gentle approach." He rolls his eyes at me. He's so adorable; he hasn't changed a bit since he was a kid!

"Fine. And don't call me that!" He whisper-yells to me as I walk over to her.

Talking with her was like listening to the wind rustle through the flowers. She talks so gently and sweet for a girl who's been crying . . .

After meeting her, I couldn't stop thinking about her. She was so nice and so pretty! I see her every day when we stake out the palace. She and the other girls look so miserable, all because of this twisted king! I want so bad to walk up to them and let them know that everything is going to be okay, but that would ruin the mission. _____ goes to bed every night at the same time. She just might be willing to talk to me. I did promise to see her again, after all!

Picking up some pebbles from the flower bed bellow her window, I toss them up until she eventually opens the window. She squints her eyes, yelling lowly to me from her window. She's absolutely gorgeous! I begin to climb up the wall, much to her surprise and laugh at her shock. She cares about me! And the blush on her face is adorable! My family is known for being flirty, so it always comes naturally to me. But what I'm saying to her isn't just flirting, and it's strange to me how a girl I barely know could have such an effect on me.

Face only a few inches from her, I gaze into her big, beautiful eyes in wonder. This girl is amazing.

After that night, I visit her every night and we talk till morning. I never even asked her to help me, but all the information she's told me has become useful. I feel terrible about doing this to her, but when everything is over, _____ and I won't ever have to see each other in secret again.

We've finally come to the end of the road. Everything is in place, and our plan is set to be executed tomorrow. But now I have to tell _____ to wait up for me one last night so I can take her away . . . I hate lying to her, but it's the only way to do things in order for our plan to work.

Walking back with my brother to our campsite in the woods, I'm alerted to a noise behind us. I stop my brother, focusing on where the noise could be coming from, but I am struck in the back of the head with something hard.

"The last thing I remember after that is waking up in this cell," Antonio looks _____ in the eyes as tears well up in his.

"I swear to you, _____, I love you. I never meant to hurt you in any way." She sniffles, letting go of the metal bars separating Antonio and herself.

"I believe you, Toni . . . Even though his words hurt me, I refused to accept them. Not until I could talk to you," She pulls out a folded piece of paper from her dress, holding back sobs as she hands it to him.

"But that man; he thinks I'm on his side . . . He told me that he wants to help me." Confused and concerned, Antonio takes the paper from her hands and reads it.

'At nine o'clock tomorrow morning, the traitor known as Antonio Fernández Carriedo will be beheaded in a private execution to pay for his crimes against King and Country. May God have mercy on his soul.'

"I tried to convince him otherwise, but he refused to listen to me. I'm sorry, Toni." He looks up at her and smiles confidently.

"There's no need for tears or apologies, chica. But I do need you to do something for me."

"Anything!" He pulls her close to whisper in her ear and her eyes widen.

The next day, _____ awakens with a sour taste in her mouth. All last night, she was up preparing her self for the execution of her beloved. What he asked her to do was insane! After all, it will only delay the inevitable and get them both killed in the process! Maybe she was just blinded by her love for the man, but even so, she had to do it. For Toni's sake.

Freshening up, she takes a deep breath and heads to the throne room where all of this will take place. She's heard stories of how evil this king is, taking the lives of men in the marble-floored throne room where his status and power were displayed in front of all. A big power move of anyone, and disrespectful to kings and queens past, but Arthur doesn't seem to care. After all, he's not the one having to clean it all up in the end.

Getting closer and closer to that dreaded room, _____ can hear the sound of hushed conversations and shaking voices from behind the golden door. A guard opens it for her and she enters, taking her place among the girls she's grown to call 'sisters.'

The voices stop, the rest of the girls and court confused having thought _____ was killed by the king for her betrayal. It's true, she and everybody else thought she was a goner the moment she came forward. But this man . . . He has a way of toying with people's lives . . .

"Hello, _____! Sleep well, love? When I woke up this morning, you weren't there . . ." He gives her a pouty face, laughing at the confusion on the faces of everyone. She refuses the urge to scowl and glare at him, putting on a forced smile.

"I simply felt out of place, my lord. I went back to my own chambers." He crosses his legs and 'tsks' at me.

"How rude of you, _____! Though I suppose it's alright, given the circumstances." Swinging his scepter around, he calls a guard over and whispers in their ear.

"Today, a long-time enemy of mine will finally meet his end," The guard comes back with Antonio, placing him on his knees in front of Arthur. The king smiles wickedly at the man in front of him and turns his attention to _____.

"Come here, love. Stand next to me."

"As you wish, my lord . . ." She gulps, slowly and cautiously walking up to the king, past Toni, and stands next to Arthur's seated form.

"It is truly sad to see someone so apposed to my rule that he'd go out of his way to break a young girl's heart. Unforgivable! What do you have to say for yourself, Antonio?" Toni looks up from the floor and into _____'s eyes.

"I'd do it all over again if it meant falling in love with _____ one more time." He smiles at her as tear well up in _____'s eyes. Arthur scoffs at Antonio's words and stands from his seated position.

"As if! You traitors only care about one thing and that's yourselves!" He grabs his sword from a nearby guard and turns toward _____.

"Don't listen to a word this evil man speaks, my love. It's nothing but lies!" Pulling his sword from its holder, Arthur steadies himself.

"Any last words, Antonio?" Toni smiles cheerfully at the man and winks at _____.

"I love you, _____." Arthur raises his lip in a scowl and raises his sword above Antonio's head to strike down with anger-filled eyes. As fast as she can, _____ slides a small kitchen knife from her sleeve and slices Arthur's hand, making him drop the blade and cry out in pain. The guards immediately move in towards _____ but are stopped as men in similar but differently colored armor force their way in and disarm them in a matter of seconds.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Arthur shouts as two guards wearing the normal uniform grab hold of him and take off their helmets.

"I knew we could do it!~" The lighter haired one speaks, practically beaming with pride.

"I can't believe we actually pulled this off." The tanner and darker-haired one states.

Antonio, untied, walks up to _____ and puts an arm around her shoulder, pointing to the two similar-looking guards holding the flailing king.

"These are my brothers, Lovino and Feliciano! Aren't they handsome? But don't go getting any ideas; you're my hermoso ángulo!" She laughs, though super confused.

"Aren't you the guard from last night? The one that told me where to find Toni?" Loving blushes and coughs into his hand.

"Yeah, so what? You also called me a bastard, which I haven't forgotten about, ragazza!"

A loud bang at the entrance of the room sounds as a man laughing loudly walks through the gold plated doors. His red hair spikes every which way as he and two other men walk through. They all look similar to Arthur due to their abnormally large eyebrows, but they all carry themselves in a more relaxed manner than the king.

"Ha! Would you look at yourself now, Artie? Seems like all that power went right to your wee pea brain!" The loud man walks over to the restrained Arthur and flicks him on the forehead.

"Mum and dad must be rolling in their graves at what you've made this kingdom become. You should be ashamed of yourself!" Antonio tightens his grip on _____'s shoulder to reassure her and ease her nerves.

"These are Arthur's brothers." The darker redhead in a blue uniform walks up to the two and grabs _____'s hand, shaking it heartily.

"You must be the lass Toni was telling me about! I've gotta say, without your help, we probably wouldn't have gotten the kingdom back!"

"Back?" He nods enthusiastically.

"Yes! I was next in line for the throne after out father died, but somehow the sneaky little bastard over there managed to take it right out from under me. Toni here has been helping us get it back!" _____ looks up at him.

"So, their the ones that gave you guys leeway into the kingdom!" He nods.

"Alistair and I have been friends for years! When Arthur became king, he made it very clear to me that my kingdom was hanging from a frayed knot! I needed to do what was right for my kingdom and that meant helping out my dear friend personally." Alistair pats Toni on the back with a huge smile.

"Now that I'm in charge, your people don't have to be worried anymore. And you can go back to sipping wine and playing guitar on that throne of yours! Nice meeting you, _____!" He walks back over to his brothers, waving at Arthur as he's carried away by guards, swinging his arms around and trying to break free. _____ takes a look around at all the people surrounding her. The men in the court are being taken away, probably to be questioned about their loyalty, and the girls are all smiling and happy as they talk to Alistair's men.

"Their all going to go home to their families, chica." He smiles down at her but it quickly changes to a sad frown.

"The only question I have for you is if you want to go back too." Tapping her chin in thought, _____ smiles up at him teasingly.

"I don't know. The goat farmer down the street from our farm did offer free cheese for life. What exactly can you offer for my hand?" Antonio laughs, wrapping his arms around her.

"A castle on a hill with a beautiful garden and plenty of animals."

"Hmmm. How about a kiss?" He pulls her closer, face inches from his as he slowly leans in.

"I would give you the world if I could." _____ laughs and pulls him closer, smashing their lips together and finally kissing the love of her life. It's not the most sophisticated or beautiful kiss, but its everything the two could ever imagine.

"I love you, _____."

"I love you too, Antonio."

#APHSpain #Spain #Hetalia #Hetalia x reader #Spain x reader #Hetalia fic #Fanfiction #Hetalia fanfiction #x reader

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tinysupervicki · 5 years ago

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It’s hard to stay away, huh? I did turn off my notifications on twitter but I still peeked. Why are y’all so amazing to me? What did I do to deserve this love? This community?

Since y’all have been there for me ever since my mom passed three years ago, I’d do anything for y’all. I felt I did let y’all down because I’m a content creator and haven’t done anything in so long. It sucks because I’m yearning to do so but lack the time due to now being an adult, working a grueling adult job and living with family.

I believe I will be able to get a place of my own later in the year, I’m really hoping for that. As for my full time job, I’m actively looking for another one. The one I’m at, I feel I work so hard but I’m not appreciated enough. It’s a healthcare industry and I work hard to help people with their needs while management focuses on metrics and numbers. I wanna get out of there.

I haven’t had time to myself and just be selfish for once? So I’m glad I was able to take time off to have a pretty long weekend to enjoy Sizecon 2020 and spend time with friends.

Let’s get started on the recap, shall we? Bare with me, I talk a lot (and not well might I add).

Day 1: Thursday 2/13/20

I woke up at 4 am to catch my flight that leaves at 6:45 am. I thankfully had all my bags packed, I just needed to shower and be ready. My dad took me to the airport and wished me off. At this point, I had plenty of time, even seeing the long TSA line at the Houston airport. I had internally groaned a lot but managed through. After having some minutes to spare, I grabbed a quick bite to eat at one of the dining places, a lovely breakfast bowl that I can have (those of you who don’t know me, I have celiac disease and I have to eat gluten free). Jumped on my flight and comfortably slept in my seat on the plane. The plan was to have a connecting flight to Charlotte, NC and then to Newark, NJ.

Two hours later, I woke up to not at my destination but at Colombia, SC. Apparently, while I was asleep, they had to divert us to the next airport because the weather was really bad in NC. We had two options: stay on the plane and wait it out until we’re back in the air to NC, or get off the plane and figure out another alternative. I stayed, I had plenty of time until my connecting flight was scheduled (which I actually got alerts that it ending up delaying a lot) so I stayed in my seat and watched greys anatomy. About almost an hour passed and we’re finally back up in the air, with more space to breathe since there were people that did leave the plane. Landed safely in NC and I ventured off to find snacks and wait at my gate. It kept delaying but I finally was able to get on my flight to NJ, making my total time at the airport and in the air...all day, I can’t do math lol. I safely landed in NJ at 5:30 pm, I had been awake since 4 am. It was a day.

Yo, I’m gonna get him and his wife a gift, I swear to god, but DJ (aka Giantgripper) saved me by picking me up from the airport and letting me stay the night at his place. When he’s the host, he does one heck of a job as a host. Since I hadn’t eaten a proper meal since 5 in the morning or so, DJ took me to a Mediterranean little mom and pop restaurant that I fell in love with. Had a stuffed pepper and practically cleaned everything off my plate. After we ate, I accompanied DJ while he did some errands for extra things he needed for the con (which did include articles of clothing for the giant cafe lol). I was happy to help as much as I could. After that, we made it back to his place. Once his wife Adri (chibiana) came home from work, we watched a documentary while trying (and failing with me because I’m a turd) to make different mixed drinks to taste. I ended up going with hot chocolate, I’m a simpleton when it comes to alcohol. A little bit afterwards, I had to pass out, it was a long ass day.

Day 2: Friday 2/14/20

Valentine’s was just another day for me. Woke up, got dressed, and DJ surprised me with a fresh homemade breakfast. It was magnificent, I scrapped the plate then too. Plans for the day was to get allllllll the stuff we need and travel to the hotel, which apparently was an hour and a half away from DJ’s house I believe. Adri had to go do another thing for work and was gonna meet up later. DJ and I traveled to the hotel first. I passed out again in the car, I was so exhausted from before I guess it had hit me again.

We made it to the hotel and unpacked the car with my stuff, his and Adri’s bags, and things for the con. I got to say quick hellos to people I knew that were already there (gave a big ass hug to Miss Kaneda, she’s so precious and a big hug to IamFilledwithStatic). I was going to be sharing a room with shortmarcy, Morgana (Moe), and Guiri. So since I had arrived first, I will check in first; Morgana and Guiri were still flying from Spain and shortmarcy didn’t come until the next morning. Since it was under shortmarcy’s name and the deposit was paid under her, She had to call to have the hotel let me check in for her. In turn, I had to put my card on file. I thought I was being a responsible adult and I thought it was gonna charge like half of the charge or something but...they charged the full price of the hotel. Which was $503...which was basically everything in my bank account. I didn’t know that was gonna happen, I panicked and just sat on the couch outside of the con area while Robyn (goddess-rei) comforted me. I had to come to terms that shit happens and I had no money for the weekend. But I graciously had the best of friends this weekend, I’ll get to that in a sec.

After my bumming out, I changed to put on my blouse for the valentines banquet (one of my guaranteed dinners that night lol). I met up with Morgana and Guiri and also sillylilbug (she’s so adorably sweet). We had our own table along with my friend Joe (CaptainRandGTS, who is a phenomenal photographer btw). We ate some good food and they took account of my gluten free (however I think the chimichurri steak may have upset my stomach). I said goodnight and went to my room to basically turn the bathroom up XD I had changed into my pajamas to head downstairs to get water and pain medicine when I turned the corner and saw a group of people walking down the hall. Guys, I’m still getting used to this, but the group was like, “Is that Vicki?!” “That is her!” And I was like WHAT. It was my lovely friends sviolet, mansquishers, mister finch, Joseph moestar, and Strongshadow2018. I was so surprised and honored, I was gushing. I got to hang out with them in their hotel room for a bit, played cards against humanity (I WON!) and ate ridiculously delicious gluten free cookies misterfinch made.

Day 3: Saturday 2/15/20

Con day. This day was a bit of a blur honestly (my mind is not the same people) but I know I took this day to “try” and relax. I was still bummed about my money problem but I had enough to buy the breakfast buffet meal ticket. My idea was to chow down a lot of food (since it was a buffet) so I won’t ask for food but that did not happen because I have wonderful friends?? Towards noon, I went to ihop with my crew (we called each other the sizecon crew lol) with sviolet, mansquishers, mister finch, Joseph moestar, and strongshadow2018. We had a nice time and I was so grateful for the lunch! Once we headed back to the hotel, we split up to do more con shenanigans. I met so many people, it was amazing. People I already knew and new people as well. It was awesome to match names to faces, it was so cool. I’m telling you though, my mind is not the same so I can’t list out the whole list of everyone I’ve seen. Then I got to see my good friend Steve (Miles Striker). I’m so fucking proud of this dude. He showed me a film he wrote, recorded, and edited all by himself, it was mindblowing. We had to go back downstairs after that because I forgot I had a social to lead and he had panels to go to. I stopped by the giant cafe, that was fucking wild. I ran the Fluffy Feels Social and I did my best because I’ve never ran something like that. But I’m glad we all liked the same thing and we just kept talking! It was getting late to when the Playroom was gonna start, so I headed back upstairs. Chilled a bit more with my crew and then headed back downstairs. I don’t know what got over me, but I gathered enough courage and joined the nude swimming party. I cannot believe I did that, that was a big step for me. Kinda sucked getting out though because I didn’t have extra clothes and it was fucking cold.

Day 4: Sunday 2/16/20

Technically last day of the con but it was the busiest. I spent all morning practicing my skit for the Tiny Cafe. I was nervous and pacing around in my hotel room, making sure I get it right. Around 12:30, I headed down to meet up with the rest of the cafe to get ready when we start at 1 pm. I could not describe how nervous I was. I wanted to make sure I didn’t mess up and I know I was lip syncing (graciously provided by Anoka’s vocals) I was still nervous as fuck. This was a performance and I’m now more confident talking to others about my kink/aesthetics but performing? Oh lawd. We had a big crowd apparently, I was surprised. We had to get more chairs and apparently turn people away? THAT MADE MY NERVES SKYROCKET. The cafe starts with a wonderful performance by Adri (Chibiana) then followed by cute transitions from our servers mini-moo and shortmarcy. Then it’s time for our skit: Veronica (Jitensha), me, and Aim were shrunk and sung songs about our giants. I was first (omg) and mine was in the style of “Maria” from west side story (Veronica called it Shrunken side story). I was shaking like a leaf and tried my best to get through the whole song while doing silly quirks of mine. Once that was done, I rushed back from my spot XD it was Veronica’s turn to sing about a giant dick lol and Aim serenading a giant lady. After our skit, it was the grand finale of Morgana performing a dance in a giant hamster ball. It was incredible. Despite my anxiety, I’m glad I did this and we did so amazing (we made tips!!!!).

Right after that was done, I had to rush to lead a social of Giant men and Tiny women. It was a small turnout but we still got people and we talked a lot. When that was done, I rushed to be on my first panel of the day: Owning what you love. After that was the Macrophile panel and then after that was the Diversity panel. I was on all of them and they were back to back, I was a busy lady lol. After that panel, I was free! Since I made tips from the cafe and I was broke from the hotel, I got to buy a few things in the vendor hall. Was able to say hi to some people I knew like scridam, the reducer, miss kaneda, iamfilledwithstatic, robclassact, and aborigen. It was also mister finch’s birthday so since I was free for the night, I went with the crew to go celebrate at a restaurant. That was such a nice time, I swear everything I did this weekend I wanted to experience again. When we came back to the hotel after dinner (after a quick stop to the liquor store lol), I was able to make it in time for the closing ceremony. Hearing everyone’s words touched my heart and reminded me why I love this community. So I was able to give a speech to say that; this is my second home when I lost my only home when my mom passed. God, that room was filled with so much love. I went back upstairs and hung out more with the crew and watched Promare (pretty sick movie). I was gonna head to bed but I hung out more with Steve and we watched a movie before passing out.

Day 5: Monday 2/17/20

It was time to say all of my goodbyes to everyone that had to leave. I gave so many hugs and love, I just miss them all. Most of the crew had to head out, except for sviolet, she had her flight in the afternoon. So we went out to breakfast at a Mexican restaurant, reminiscing this whole weekend. We came back to the hotel to chill in my hotel room. Morgana and Guiri were leaving to the airport back to Spain and shortmarcy wanted to venture to NYC before she went home the next day. So sviolet and I chilled in my room before she had to head out.

Then for the rest of the evening, I had the room to myself. I watched law and order svu whole packing and double checked I had everything. I waited up for shortmarcy to come back (I was so worried) but she made it back after 10 pm safe and sound. At that point, I had to go to bed because my flight in the morning was at 5:45 am.

Day 6: Tuesday 2/18/20

I woke up at 3 am to get to the airport on time and my Lyft driver I got...I had a feeling he was having a bit of fun by himself before he picked me up. Because it stunk in the car of cum. Whatever, I held in my breath and made it to the airport safely. My flights were on time and I slept on each one. I did not want to go back home.

Back to reality and I hate the after con blues! Especially with how much this con and community means to me.

Hoping there’s a next year and I’m ready to help as usual.

Y’all have a goodnight ❤️

#shut up vicki really #giant tiny #sizecon #sizecon 2020

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wasalwaysagreatpickle · 4 years ago

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Sunday 4 October 1829

8 1/4

1 25/..

Went out with Lady Stuart to the well at 9 1/2 – breakfast at 10 – all at the cathedral at 10 40/.. (service begins at 10) for about 1/2 hour to hear the music – home before 12 – Lady Stuart and Miss Hobart read the morning prayers in 1/2 hour –

Came to my room at 1 – wrote 3pp. and the ends to Miss Maclean still uncertain how long we should be here – but beg her to write to me aux soins de Messers [Daniel] Danoot fils and [cse] as before à Bruxelles – want to know how she is and what chance there is of her coming to us – if any chance, it might surely be contrived for me to meet her at Ostende, and bring her back – the waters here have done Lady Stuart good, because they have renovated her spirits – time will shew how far the effect will be lasting – merely said of Miss Hobart she would be satisfied with her looks – mentioned my journey along the Rhine, etc. with Lady Gordon then wrote 3pp. to Mariana our plans uncertain but to write to me at Paris the moment of receiving this letter – the not hearing from her the great drawback on my travelling – mention my little tour with Lady Duff Gordon, and her younger son Mr Gordon as very agreeable – no journey could be taken under happier auspices – delighted with Francfort – enjoyed ourselves much at Ems – even talked of travelling together next year if nothing particular occurred to either of us to prevent it – she a very agreeable person and very musical and she and Miss Hobart sing together – sorry she goes tomorrow –

Then as if indirectly mention the going of Lady Isabella Blatchford our two Lords Graves and Forbes and our charming polonaise the countess Zamoyska

Concluded my letter to Mariana in a hurry, saying that we and the Gordons and a son of sir George Wombwells were going to dine out – at 3 1/4 sent off my letter to ‘Miss Maclean of Coll 21 Southampton Street Camden Town London’ (Miss Hobart wrote the 2 latter parts of the direction) and I added only ‘Angleterre’, and sent off also at the same time my letter to Mariana ‘Lawton hall, Lawton cheshire Angleterre’ –

Lady Gordon here – Lady Stuart and Miss Hobart went to call on Mrs Meason at the hotel de l’Empereur (where Napoleon [was]) – not come – and Lady Gordon and I walked to Louisberg where Cosmo and young Wombwell followed – Lady Stuart and Miss Hobart had arrived before us – found the former sitting out in the balcony sketching –

Dinner at 4 20/.. – a bottle of Moselle, ditto claret saint julien and ditto Marcobrunner – all good – and very fair dinner – at least all seemed satisfied –

Lady Gordon and I very good friends I rather flatter her in the score of her being agreeable she arguing against it saying she had never an offer but the one she accepted and no offer of marriage since her widowhood I said as to this that really her circumstances had been fearful all her debts to which anyone who married her would be subject etc. yes she owned I was right in that asked if I should ever behold her again yes she hopes so in Paris and London agreed she is not to go to Spain or anywhere abroad without letting me know in time to go with her

Cosmo in wild boyish spirits – Lady Stuart returned alone in the carriage and we all walked (Lady Gordon and Mr Wombwell – Miss Hobart and Cosmo and I

She had hold of his arm and mine and we galloped)

along the boulevart to Lady Gordon’s to leave her at home, and then Miss Hobart and Mr Wombwell and I got home at 7 1/4 - Lady Stuart was gone to the Comtesse Zamoyska’s – dressed – Lady Gordon came and she and Miss Hobart and Cosmo went to the Comtesse – Miss Hobart came back in 1/4 hour for me, and I got there at 8 –

Lady Stuart sat working her worsted border on muslin – Cosmo and I played several games at écarté having found the cards on the table – Lady Gordon and Miss Hobart sang – home at 9 3/4 – the little girl very handsome – beautiful hair – had it taken down – reached almost to her ankles – Miss Hobart tired went to bed at 10 – I sat talking to Lady Stuart till 10 40/.. – then stood talking to Miss Hobart till 11 1/4 –

Talking of the Gordons I at last said perhaps it might have been as well not to have made the appointment with him at eight and a half this morning but he was not ready so she rejoiced she had not gone to borcette but only walked about at the well she said it was very foolish was not like her in general cried over the folly of it and got nervous but thanked me for telling her of it had he been a year or two older she would not have done it envied everyone who had a brother who cared for them she had almost now got over her care about hers consoled her wished I had done as few foolish things as she had done fewer than most but told her she was not generally conciliatory in her manner and sometimes seemed cross to Lady Stuart and all men would observe it said I myself had only made up my mind whether she had much heart or not oh that said she is because I was cross to you individually I mentioned Valenciennes kissed her two or three times and came away said I would just wish her good night when she was in bed but she begged me not

Came to my room at 11 1/4 –

oh oh thought I I see my person when there was talk of her having no German lesson at eight tomorrow morning she said why not if Cosmo asked me to walk I should get up but to be sure that would be more interesting than German when I joked her this morning and said I would roast Cosmo oh no said she do not if he liked his bed better as if annoyed that he should have done so what pleasure can she have in the society of much a nouseless boy of seventeen? how prefer his senseless conversation to German his company to mine? the breeches how true that a womans prudery saves her she at twenty six thus pleased with seventeen! twouldo her good to marry I wonder whether I have really ever caused her the least excitement is she ever conscious feeling till she can better understand it with Cosmo? she came into my room while I was writing took up some of my Francfort paper saying she should take a couple of sheets which she did adding how nice it is to have anyone whom one can treat like a dog I merely laughed and joked about it how little she knows me I would gladly make a good connection for blood and money but she would not suit me I should be shockingly puzzled how to be off if she was more inclined for me poor [Pi – Mariana] if she had not these whites so that I am always afraid of her I should be satisfied enough -

Writing the whole of the above of today which took me till 12 50/.. threatening clouds all the day, and no sun, and coldish, but yet the rain held off. save a few drops – and finish, or, at least fair day –

#anne lister #1829 #vere hobart #anne lister code breaker

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red-moskito · 4 years ago

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24. April. 2020

Málaga, Spain

For many of us, the last time it felt like the whole world was having the same conversation was on September 11th, 2001. For me, it was also the day I left London for Faedis, Italy. A few people around me on the train were murmuring about some kind an attack. When I got the airport, it was so quiet. People stood frozen in front of televisions watching two plumes of black smoke rise into a blue sky.

I’d met Marco while he was in London for a couple days to sell some wine. We both quoted Biggie Smalls and the Big Lebowski. He was just getting the family vineyard going as a proper business. I had no plans beyond the next weekend. I said I liked the idea of working on a vineyard. He said, cool.

The house was a kitchen and a bedroom above the cantina. Almost everything inside was older than me. The roof in the bedroom sloped down to the floor. We opened a few bottles and ate dinner.

While insects buzzed and chirped outside the windows, we watched our world reorganize itself towards endless war on television. It was cold that night. We slept under scratchy blankets on little beds made during times of less abundance.

I stayed until the end of October. We often ate lunch in Orsaria with his parents, Paolo and Miriam. I liked them. They acted as if Marco had just found a younger brother they had somehow misplaced. I also liked their house. It was big, beautiful and warm. They had comfortable sofas and a computer for sending sentimental emails and downloading mp3s.

I did my best to match their enthusiasm for every course. E buona la pasta, Tito? Si, si... buonissimo! Marco, perché non mangia di più? When I got sick, they had a doctor come to the house. He brought a stethoscope in a leather bag. Nonna introduced me to grappa as medicine. The first glass felt like hot wax going down my throat.

I annoyed Marco with my plans to marry his sister Barbara, even though she thought I was a sfigato. We drove down gravel roads to parties in little bars where his friends played reggae like some of mine did back home.

No matter how late we stayed out, or how many bottles we left empty on the table, Marco was up with the sun and ready to work. He’d drink flat Coca-Cola before his coffee. Some fuel to get the engine started, man. Good for the stomach.

Winemaking is agriculture, science, art, design, engineering, sales, marketing, gambling, guessing…. When there aren’t vines to trim, there are tanks to check, fertilizers to buy, grapes to take to the laboratory, grass to cut, cases to deliver, bottles to label, fill, cork... People we’d meet throughout the day said, buon lavoro as goodbye.

Whenever something could go wrong, it often did. Marco’s momentary frustration would quickly just become something else to laugh about. Stay calm. Piano, piano. We have to be the Tom Cruise of the situation, man.

Sometimes he would sketch out the plans for our day on scrap paper. Little cartoons of machines, grapes, tanks and tubes with arrows between them. Numbers and notes floating around the edges. He never drew us. We were always moving anyway.

During the vendemmia a crowd arrived to help. Friends, traveling workers and his family, of course. Nonno laughed and shook his head at me and my allergies. I never really got the hang of the tractor, but I loved cutting the grapes free. We stacked crates and tipped them into presses. They all knew far more about my country than I did about theirs. We debated the merits of Sublime, compared Berlusconi to Bush and retold our favorite Simpsons episodes. Every day we all ate lunch together on the patio beneath a sunshade of interwoven vines.

The wine we made went to tables all around Friuli-Venezia-Giulia and parts of Europe. I brought a few bottles with me when I left for Torino. Some went to rest on shelves in the cantina.

The last time I was in Faedis was in August 2016. Marco still sings while he’s walking between the rows of vines. 'Biggie Biggie Biggie can’t you see…’ I mean come on. man. He was really the best. You know it. The best... ‘It was all a dream. I used to read Word-Up Magazine…’

The TV in the kitchen is gone. There’s a wood stove there now. They watch movies projected on the wall of the room we used to sleep in. A futon for guests has replaced the little beds. Marco had remodeled the house to make room for another proper bedroom.

He dug out some grimy bottles of our wine. It was six years younger than I was when we made it. I didn’t get to see Barbara. Paulo and Miriam’s house is now a bed and breakfast. Go there if you’re ever near Orsaria. It’s even more beautiful now.

Friuili is 300 km from Lombardia. In February, Marco and I started talking and texting about the virus. I’d already started veering away from people on the sidewalk. There was a movie I wanted to see in the cinema, but I didn’t go. I avoided the port full of cruise ship passengers. But I still went out.

On March 6, I’d had an internal debate about going to the botanical gardens on my day off. It’s outdoors. It’s low season. It’ll be empty. It’s windy and warm. And anyway, Málaga isn’t Bergamo. I rode my bike there, and while I was locking it, I reconsidered again. I saw a couple walking down from the mountains across the road. Should I just hike up this trail instead? Instead I went inside. I’d only been in summer before. I wanted to see what it looked like at the beginning of spring.

While I was having my coffee, a woman sat at the other end of the picnic table. When she started blowing her nose, I told myself it would be silly and rude to get up. Then she started coughing. I looked at the unwrapped sandwich I had brought from home. My open water thermos. Mentally measuring metres and wind speed. Still feeling like I was being ridiculous. Her daughter brought the drinks and sat down. Ecco la tua mamma... I picked up my things and moved to another table.

I spent the next half hour telling myself I was being paranoid while trying to focus on the plants in the sunshine. Doing impossible math in my head. There are 60 million Italians.... they could have been traveling for weeks... maybe they live here... anyone could have it... there are so many old people here... I heard that man couch under is hat... it could have been on the coffee cup anyway… the bartender washes them in the sink... how hot is that water?

I walked to the end of the gardens where a gazebo was built for the view of the cathedral and the sea. I watched turtles swimming around the little pond. Marco texted me. Stay at home. I called him to tell him about the Italian women and my paranoia. They walked by while I was on the phone, and I moved upwind. Still feeling ridiculous.

He was calm as always. The main problem is there aren’t enough beds for the, how do you say... the reanimation. The people they are just fucking dying in the corridors. They don’t know for sure who is the patient zero, but the patient one or two. He’s a 38 years old guy. He’s been on the fucking respirator for weeks. In Cividale there are three cases. It’s crazy, man. What we have to do is just fucking close everything like they did in China. But that will never happen you know man, because this is Europe.

Two days later the Italian government locked down Lombardia and fourteen other provinces. The following day they extended to it include the entire country. Within a week, most of Europe followed suit.

Seven weeks later the Italian government agrees with many of you about the essential nature of wine. So Marco is still working. Since the lockdown started, he’s been in the hospital twice. He was in a car accident in March, and then something more serious happened in April.

He sent me a selfie from the hospital bed. I called him and he answered laughing. His wife had thought he was faking a stroke to play a trick on her. Fucking unbelievable, man. I tried to drink the juice. You know in the morning, the orange juice, and I put it all over my t-shirt. I couldn’t put it to my mouth. I couldn’t say nothing. I was like blah, blah, blah. My brain was no good. Anyway, how are you, are you good?

The hospitals in Udine aren’t overwhelmed, but he was only allowed one visitor per day. He asked his mother to bring his laptop, so he could get some work done. Everybody say rest. Rest, rest, rest. Okay, I’m in the bed.

When he was discharged he sent me a photo with his wife and baby walking between the vines. Their daughter, Emilia, has unruly red hair. In every photo she looks overjoyed and a little surprised to have found herself inside her new body. Are you ok? Super ok, man. Super ok. They were all smiles. Glowing in the green grass. Paola looks far too smart to have fallen for either of us back when we would try to out-charm each other every time a woman arrived at the vineyard.

Marco’s still getting up with the sun. But fewer and fewer Italians have money for wine. He’s not loading pallets with boxes bound for dinner parties in Oslo or Chicago. No American tourists will be giggling at his accent this summer. The local restaurants are dark and full of stale air.

For almost twenty years, whenever I’ve called Marco to talk about moving or just getting away, he reminds me of my house in Faedis.

Next to the front door there are photographs of family and friends working together since long before the days of color. Behind the house, up on top of the hill, there is a little shack with the year 1867 written above the door. It will still be there once our world has reorganized itself yet again.

So will we.

https://www.cecchinimarco.com/

http://www.dorsariabedandbreakfast.it/index.php/it/

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all-things-skam · 5 years ago

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prompt: ele and edo making cute travel plans in bed after THAT scene. also could there be something where ele makes some joke about how many girls edo has been with and edo is like lol no i haven't been with a girl since u called me out at school and ele is all OH OKAY

Incantava first time they say I love you.

Edoardo being all soft and cuddly with Ele after they had sex

I would love to read an incantava fic! Something fluffly

Title: Our summer together

Ship: Skam Italia | Eleonora Sava and Edoardo Incanti (Incantava)

_______________

She pushed a curl away from his face, a gleeful grin on her lips as she looked up at him, completely enamored. Edoardo’s whole face was smiling as he caressed her bare back, having reached nirvana.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle and caring.

Eleonora nodded, tilting her head to kiss his collarbone, lips brushing the white gold of his chain. The delicate jewelry had always awoken her attention. He was never not wearing it which made Eleonora suspect that it wasn’t just a piece of jewelry.

“Do you want to go back to your friends?”

She didn’t want him to leave their love-nest but, it was his party. He’d have to go back at some point, he couldn’t leave his guests to themselves downstairs for the rest of the night.

“No.” Edoardo shifted, leaning to pull her against him and kiss her jaw tenderly. “I rather stay here with you.” He trailed his kisses up to her lips, hand sliding to her back when she hooked her leg on his hip, pulling her closer.

Breaking the kiss, he brushed their noses together, laying flat on his stomach, head on his grey pillow as he staregaze at the beautiful girl in front of him, still awestruck that she was [his] now. “I’ve waited for you for a whole year and, when I finally got you, we’re being forced apart.”

Eleonora bit her lip, sitting up on the bed, the sheets covering her breasts.

Since Edoardo announced her that he was accepted at an Ivy League college in America, she had shown nothing but proudness and joy but, deep down, his coming departure was worrying her. New York wasn’t next door; it was 4279 miles away from Rome. She was willing to give long distance a try but, you know what they say: far from the eyes, far from the heart.

“About that… I’m happy that you got accepted, but a part of me can’t help but be scared that you’ll find another girl in America.”

“Why would I want another girl when I already have the most beautiful one waiting for me at home?” he replied with a smug smile.

Eleonora rolled her eyes. “Stop it. I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” Edo propped himself on his elbow, dark irises smiling at her. “I’m crazy about you, Eleonora Francesca Sava. You’re all I see since the first time we met at Chicco’s barbecue…all I want.”

A scoff slipped past Ele’s lips and she spoke before she realized it. “Yet, you managed to bring five girls in your bed according to the trophy wall.”

Immediately, the mood shifted and Edoardo’s face blanched. He gulped thickly. “You’re right. I understand your doubts concerning my faithfulness. If I were you, I would have difficulty trusting myself too. But, I’ll tell you something: I haven’t had sex with anyone since you called me out last spring. It was tough but, I was determined to gain your heart. I was persistent but patient. Hell, I even messaged you every single day while you were in England without getting any answers. So, why would I destroy something I worked so hard to get?”

A silence installed itself, making Edoardo sigh as he waited for something he knew he wasn’t going to get. What could she say to this? He already knew her opinion about his past; he wasn’t proud of everything he had done but, no matter what he’d say, he still couldn’t change his past. What is done is done. The only choice is to move forward.

Surprisingly, his words got a small smile to form on Eleonora’s lips. It wasn’t fully there so he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing it. He watched her smile widen, knowing that the small gestures and touches meant a lot to her. Feeling like he was on a good lead, he continued his trail of kisses and waited until she was distracted enough to pull her down, making her laugh.

“Edo, no…” she said between laughs.

Edoardo grinned, knowing that making a girl laugh is the way to her heart.

The party had died down and Fede had kicked out everyone by now, leaving only Eleonora and Edoardo in the Incanti’s villa. While she put on a shirt to cover herself, Edoardo had gone downstairs to get them a late night snack, aka ice cream, and the brunette couldn’t be more satisfied when she saw the pistachio pot.

“So, have you decided yet?”

She furrowed her eyebrows, scooping a spoonful of the frozen dessert. “Decided what?”

“Our summer vacations,” Edo explained, extending his hand to play with Eleonora’s hair, thumb brushing her cheek. “Spain, Turkey, Paris, Croatia…we can go wherever you want.”

Gulping, Eleonora lowered her gaze, afraid to break his happy bubble. She wasn’t bathing in money like him. She couldn’t splurge on luxury trips across Europe, on a whim, whenever she wanted. Everything she had, she worked for it.

“I’m not sure I can afford any of that, I have to work this summer and-”

Edoardo shook his head, smoothing the creased on her forehead. “Don’t worry about money. Just tell me where you want to go.”

A blush coated her cheeks, suddenly feeling uneasy. Beside Filippo, no one had ever been there for her - not even her parents. All this was new and foreign to her. Someone who cared deeply for her, someone who would unhook the stars for her, someone who wanted give her the world. She didn’t know how to handle this.

“I-I can’t accept that, Edo. You spending so much money on me makes me uncomfortable.”

“A couple hundreds euros more won’t change anything to my dad’s bank account, Ele. I want to spend my summer with you; just the two of us.” He paused. “Don’t you want that too?”

“Yes, but-”

He shushed her, pressing his index to her lips. “What will our first destination be, Miss Sava?”

Ele sighed, giving in, and picked a country. “I guess we can go to Spain. I’ve always wanted to see the architecture. Everything so beautiful there.”

“It is. I’ve been once. You have to see Barcelona, you’re gonna love it. We can go see La Sagrada Família, Park Güell or even the Gothic quarters. There’s old gargoyles on the buildings and a magnificent cathedral.”

She had heard about every touristic attractions Edoardo talked about, but the way he talked about Barcelona so dreamily made Eleonora more excited to go and travel. She had seen those beautiful churches in thousands of pictures and was looking forward to visit them. She was also looking forward to walk hand in hand with Edoardo in Park Güell.

“And after Spain?” He stole a scoop of her ice cream and she narrowed her eyes, bringing the tub to herself, making Edo chuckle.

Eleonora pinched her chin. “Erm…maybe Croatia? It’s such an underrated country.”

“I heard the beaches there are breathtaking. The turquoise water, Plitvice Lakes national park…we could go zip lining or swim with stingrays.”

“Stingrays?” the brunette repeated, a bit surprised. “I would’ve took you for a shark person.”

Edoardo shook his head. “No. Sharks are overrated. Stingrays are much cooler,” he explained with a childish grin.

You could perceive Edo’s child heart through his words which made the brunette smile. Maybe he was one of those nerdy kids that loved to go to the aquarium and knew a bunch of facts about fishes and marine life? Or, maybe he never went to the aquarium. Maybe his parents were too busy to take him…just like hers.

Feeling a lump form in her throat at the thought of her childhood, Eleonora changed subject.

“Where do you wanna go?” she returned.

“Paris. I’ve never been to Paris…and this is the perfect time to go.”

“Why do you insist on going to Paris? So you can tell me the most cliché thing on top of the Eiffel tower?” She shook her head. “I refuse to go.”

He chuckled shaking his head. “I don’t need to go to Paris to tell you that.”

“Wha-” Eleonora whispered quietly, eyebrows furrowed as she looked up at him with confused eyes.

“I love you. I love you, Eleonora…you’re a part of my little family.”

The sincerity in his eyes almost made hers water. His little family. She was brought back to the radio episode: family has nothing to do with blood or time; sometimes just one person, even though you’ve known them for so little time, might become so special and important to be like family to you. She had always had a doubt that the last paragraph of the episode - the one Edoardo wrote - was his way of telling her he loved her, but this just confirmed it.

Before the emotions would take over her, she leaned for a kiss, tasting the pistachio ice cream on his lips.

“You’re a part of mine too.”

#incantava #edoardo incanti #elenora sava #edoardo x eleonora #incantava prompt #incantava fic #skam italia #skamit #skam italia fic

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