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longwuzhere · 1 year ago

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Some cool Easter eggs I caught watching My Adventures with Superman that I want to show to people so they can be in on it with comic book readers:

Episode 1 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 2 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 3 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 4 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 5 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 7 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here and here

Episode 8 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 9 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 10 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 1 post is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 2 post is here

My Easter eggs and references for My Adventures with Superman comic issue 3 post is here

(SPOILERS if you havent seen it obviously)

About 3ish minutes into the episode we see Clark be affected by red sun radiation, one of the non-Kryptonite weakness Superman has.

In the comics we first learn about this weakness in Action Comics #300 (1963), cover art by Curt Swan, George Klein, and Joe Letterese, where Superman is transported to the future by the Superman Revenge Squad, where the sun turned red thus losing his powers and has to find a way back home.

At the place where Jimmy was captured, we meet Monsieur Mallah and the Brain, at least MAwS version of these characters. I talk more about them in here. The episode has them depicted more like an old married couple with no supervillainous intentions compared to their comic counterparts...

who often associate themselves as enemies to the Doom Patrol and affliated with the Brotherhood of Evil. Also the Brain is usually French in the comics, here in MAwS, the Brain is German. The cover is from Outsiders #37 (2006) cover art by Daniel Acuna.

Back outside we see where Monsieur Mallah and the Brain took Jimmy, Cadmus Minefield.

Cadmus/Project Cadmus/the DNA Project, is known for its genetic engineering projects. The organization makes its first appearance in Superman's Pal Jimmy Olsen #135 (1971) created by legendary comic book creator, Jack Kirby. Cadmus is pretty well known for cloning Superboy/Kon-el/Conner Kent. Like in MAwS Cadmus is a government sanctioned division that's located outside of Metropolis. Ironic since in MAwS the government disavows Cadmus. You can read more about it on these two pages from Who's Who in the DC Universe #12 (1991), the art is done by Dan Jurgens, Dennis Janke, and Anthony Tollins.

Later in the forest we see Lois and Clark have to deal with the OMACs.

In the comics, Jack Kirby created OMAC, at the time, the acronym stood for One Man Army Corp. Buddy Blank of Earth-AD (a future post-apocalyptic Earth) was selected to be part of the OMAC program where with the help of the Brother Eye satellite grants him powers of super strength, stamina and density control. The cover art here for OMAC #1 (1971) was done by Jack Kirby, Mike Royer, and Gaspar Saladino.

Years later OMAC gets reinvented to be a cyborgs of Brother Eye that was developed by Batman thanks to his paranoia about super powered heroes turning evil. The page here is from the OMAC Project #5 (W: Greg Rucka, P&I :Jesus Saiz, C: Hi-Fi, L: Phil Balsman). This iteration of OMAC uses the acronym for Omni-Mind and Community. These Cyborgs make their first appearance in the OMAC Project #1 (2005). MAwS's OMACs are a lot more robotic and Evangelion-esque designed compared to how they look in the comics. Note the mohawk/fin designs on OMACs heads in both iterations of the comics and how the robots are designed in MAwS.

Someone on the MAwS team is a fan of Gurren Lagann.

Monsieur Mallah name drops Task Force X. I talked about the organization here

Monsieur Mallah mentions one dimensions in the universe where he and the Brain can be accepted. This brings to mind...

DC's multiverse. The multiverse makes its first appearance in the Flash #123 (1961) where Barry Allen and Jay Garrick meet for the first time. DC's multiple Earths have changed over the years from having only 52 distinct Earths to now infinite. The Multiverse map created by Grant Morrison and Rian Hughes, here is from Multiversity comic series.

Someone on the MAwS crew is a fan of the ED-209 design in Robocop.

After the fight with the OMACs, the Brain talks about the General. The only person in DC comics who usually goes by that moniker is...

General Wade Eiling. The panels here are from Captain Atom #1 (1987) (W: Cary Bates, P: Pat Broderick, I: Bob Smith, C: Carl Gafford, L: John Costanza). General Eiling is often associated with Suicide Squad/Task Force X. So it's possible that much like Parasite and Ivo, the MAwS team are combining characters by having...

him be a combination of General Eiling and General Sam Lane, Lois's dad. But who knows. Gotta wait for confirmation if this is either Eiling or Lane.

Thank you for taking your time reading this and making it this far down the post. If you want to see the other posts of easter eggs and references for past episodes:

Episode 1 is here

Episode 2 is here

Episode 3 is here

Episode 4 is here

Episode 5 is here

Episode 7 is here and here

Episode 8 is here

Episode 9 is here

Episode 10 is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 1 post is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 2 post is here

My Easter eggs and references for My Adventures with Superman comic issue 3 post is here

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rosesloveletters · 11 months ago

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poems, cherry pie, chocolate roses and teddy bears.

Pairing: 1971 Willy Wonka x Reader

Word Count: 5,200

Warnings: Implied smut.

Summary: Willy Wonka and Reader share their first Valentine's Day together.

Author's Note: Sorry that this is a day late. I meant to have it posted yesterday, but I was at work until 4pm and was too tired to edit it for posting. There are some very specific and personal aspects to this fic, so don't let that throw you. I hope you enjoy<3

Edited.

divider created by @/saradika on Tumblr.

Love was in the air.

Outside, the sun had risen and bathed the landscape in liquid gold.

The sweet scent of chocolate and the much more understated perfume of fresh cut roses wafted through the private living quarters that you and Wonka shared inside the factory.

It was Valentine's Day and your heart was outpouring the color of love as red as the roses Wonka had given you, bursting at the seams he had so lovingly sewn shut when he found you split open, wounded by hands which were meant to hold you, not rip you apart.

This was your first Valentine's Day with a man who made you feel loved and desired, whose needs were no more or less important than your own; you had not experienced such a foreign concept in a romantic relationship.

You and Wonka were equals.

This was not to say, on any given day, there were not times when one of you took or gave more than the other, but the gentle reciprocation made by two hearts which had found homes within each other’s chests assured that both of you knew that you would always be there for the other.

The factory was awash in a sea of pink and red as last minute shipments were made to shops all across town.

Wonka had given his Oompa Loompas the night off and once the last of the Valentine’s chocolates were out for delivery, he and his beloved workers would make merry with friends, family and lovers alike.

Far too many years had Wonka spent Valentine’s Day alone; such a rare treat was it that this particular year, when he had finished with his work and was free to return to his private quarters, there would be a recipient for all the love he had yet to give.

He was eager to be with his lover, a spring in his step as he strode through the halls on his way back to you. He had let you sleep in so that you would be lively and well-rested for tonight.

It was within his usual habit to be gone to work by the time you woke and this morning had been no different. Only today before he left, he came back into the bedroom after he was dressed and sat on the bed beside you. He admired the peaceful expression on your face as you slept, leant down and pressed a tender kiss to your cheek.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my dear,” he whispered lovingly in your ear, his gentle voice reaching the inner depths of your dreamworld and tinging it with its melody.

You had cooed in your sleep, mumbling a tired reply that only he understood though the words were unintelligible. He stroked your hair and left you to your slumbering; he pulled the duvet up around you a bit more before he made his exit.

Wonka left a gift for you to wake up to.

On your nightstand, he carefully arranged a bouquet of red roses and a new chocolate bar he had created that was meant to be a limited edition specific to Valentine’s Day. Tucked in amongst the petals was a note: ‘If I had a flower for every time I thought of you…I could walk through my garden forever.’

The last thing he had left for you to find was a love note that you spent the first few moments of your day reading and rereading because his soul was so breathtaking—his thoughts flourished like a beautiful garden dedicated to his love for you.

His words transported you to the garden inside his imagination and, if his chocolate room was any indication of the raw beauty living inside his mind that had already been sifted out of him, then the thoughtful flowers that grew in his head bloomed in colors not even you could possibly dream up even though you were the only one who knew his mind at least half as well as he did.

You took his words to heart as you took the bouquet with you to the kitchen to find a vase and a prominent spot in your living area so that you would be able to always see them when you were home.

Home.

When had you determinedly made a home with him?

It was a concept far too vast and all-encompassing for you to make sense of it on its own.

You and Wonka had lived together for a while, yet it shocked you to imagine that this was now what you considered your home.

You remembered how many nights you had returned to your empty house, before you had met your beloved chocolatier, and walked through the door only to be met with deafening silence. A silence brought about by loneliness you had not wanted to admit you were feeling.

You had not been actively looking for a partner to share a life with, but on nights like those, you often wondered what it must feel like to return home after a long day and be met by the warm smile and then open arms of a lover.

It never failed to bring a tear to your eye—past the tears, you could not envision it ever becoming your reality.

You had never been so relieved to have been proven wrong.

The end of your days were now spent with Willy Wonka, instead of sitting by yourself in a space too big for one person and thinking about how long your days seemed when you were solely responsible for getting yourself through them.

Wonka was not there to solve all your problems, but the single fact that you knew you could rely on him for advice on major life decisions, comfort, reassurance and the fulfillment of romantic love helped immensely.

You had grown so tired of being on your own; you wanted a love that celebrated your individuality yet did not leave you with a gaping hole in your chest that should have been occupied by another.

You did not know when you started believing in soulmates, or if you ever had.

All you knew was that Wonka was the only person whom you had never felt alone with while he was standing right beside you and that was enough to convince you that you had made the right decision.

When Wonka returned to your living space, the first thing his eyes landed on was the rose bouquet now sitting on the coffee table, housed in a crystal vase with fresh water.

A pleased smile creased his face as he hung up his coat and hat, “oh, darling~!” he sing-songed, “where are you, my love?”

You came around the corner as soon as you heard his voice, “Willy!”

You ran to him, throwing your arms around his neck as he leant forward and kissed your cheek, hugging you to him in the warmest embrace that had ever held you.

“There’s my love bug,” he chuckled as you peppered his face with kisses, “what have you been up to?”

When you finally let him go, he saw your smirk before you took him by the hand and led him into the kitchen, “I made you something.”

“Is that a fact? Hm, well, what is it that you’ve made for me, my dear?”

Once inside the kitchen, you grabbed your oven mitts and opened the oven door, reaching in and carefully extracting your creation. Wonka stood at your side, gazing over your shoulder as you placed a cherry pie aside so that it would have plenty of time to cool before serving after dinner.

The handmade latticework crust was golden, flaky and baked to perfection; the smell of warm cherry filling made his mouth water.

“Oh, darling,” Wonka wrapped his arms around your midsection, embracing you gently from behind, “I can’t wait to try a slice. It smells divine. Thank you, my dear.”

Another lingering kiss was left, this time behind your ear and your smile grew, “you’re welcome. I thought I’d take it upon myself to make dessert, since you’ve been adamant all week about cooking for us both tonight.”

“It’s the very least I could do, dearest,” he crooned into your ear with a glint in his eye that he knew you could not see from your current position, “even though I do still have a few more surprises for you.”

You suppressed a shudder of excitement as your mind began to conjure ideas of what he might have in store. There was no telling what else he had put together and you were thrilled by the very thought; you had your own secrets to keep and so you stowed your excitement for the time being.

You had put plenty of careful forethought into your plans for the holiday, but deep down, your fear of falling short had begun to simmer. It had been years since you last celebrated the day of love and you were uncertain if your heart was ready to love like this again.

‘A heart’s only job is to beat,’ Willy used to say to you when you felt afraid to love him, ‘if not for love, then for what? A life without love, in any capacity, is merely an existence.’

He was right and you knew it well.

Rarely was your Wonka ever wrong about love and yet you couldn’t help but wonder why he had let himself lose his way, locking himself away from the rest of the world for so many years.

You would not judge him; it would have been wrong for you to do since you yourself were no stranger to self-isolation. You felt that you functioned better in solitude and you had eased yourself into your little protective cocoon, shielded from the outside, safe within yourself.

Every little step brought you further and further out of your shell; you had settled gradually into a domestic little life with Wonka and you felt as comfortable in his company as you did in your own.

You both were well out of your comfort zones, trusting one another in ways you had not trusted another soul since you had each learned to guard your hearts rather than offer them willingly. You and Wonka had both learned from painful experience to protect your weak spots and show them only once you had verified that who you showed them to was not a threat and, in this day, proving such was a near impossibility.

That was why Wonka developed “tests” of reassurance; rather than words, he wanted a person’s actions to follow through with the words they used.

You never minded him testing you.

Where you needed verbal reassurance that you were loved, he needed physical examples.

You were closer to understanding yourselves just by understanding your different needs and what each stemmed from, but for now, you did not let your mind linger on it for too long.

You tried to be careful, to protect your heart because it would not sustain another fracture, could not continue to beat as it once did if it were to lose any more little pieces.

For Wonka you would have carved your heart right out of your chest and given it to him if he asked.

That kind of love was dangerous if the wrong person received it, but nothing about Wonka could have been more right.

The love you shared sometimes took your breath away and it was all you could do to refill your lungs again with precious air once you recovered enough to remember how to breathe after looking in his direction a bit longer than necessary. He filled you with emotions, sometimes ones you would rather not feel if you could avoid them. He had become special to you gradually, the same way a seedling sprouts from the ground and grow up towards the sun, but unlike the flower whose petals will wilt and die, waiting until spring to germinate once more, your love for Wonka was eternal and bloomed in vibrant colors even in the coldest and darkest of days.

***

Wonka had such a keen eye for detail.

He put his entire heart into his creations, no matter what they were, and the fruits of his labor were sweet with success.

Fortunately for him, Willy Wonka was a lover of love itself; he had no trouble devoting himself and his love to you wholeheartedly.

“I had created these in the greatest of secrecy,” he began, “just for you.”

Dinner had long since been finished.

As promised, Willy had cooked a meal for the two of you.

Afterward, you helped him clean up and gave him a hand with the dishes, then the two of you retired to the living room to let the food in your bellies settle while you snuggled up together on the couch and exchanged gifts.

Wonka sat to your right; his left arm was draped around your shoulders as he gently guided you into the security of his embrace. He watched over your shoulder as you unboxed the gift he had seemingly materialized out of thin air and placed into your hands the second you had sat down.

You stripped off the golden ribbon which had secured the packages’ contents and maintained the privacy of the gift. You lifted the lid on the dark plum box and revealed three chocolate rose blooms, each approximately the size of your palm. The petals were made of the finest and highest quality chocolate, rich with the decadence and love that Wonka poured into them.

A small gasp left your parted lips as you gazed at the edible roses; they were far too beautiful to eat.

“My god…you actually made these?”

Your reaction filled him with pride.

He nodded in reply, letting out a little chuckle as he spoke with a much humbler tone than his internal monologue, “of course, darling.”

You had not meant the question literally—you were well beyond shocked by his capabilities, even though you knew without a doubt that he was a mastermind. He was an artist whose medium is chocolate, sugar and sweets of all kinds. If he were to choose not to make a special treat for his beloved on Valentine’s Day, then what a waste of talent that would be.

At least, that was what he would have told you.

“Go ahead,” he whispered in your ear, sending another little tingle down your spine as his warm breath tickled your sensitive skin, “try it.”

You scoffed, “but I want to savor it! Don’t rush me.”

“If that’s what you want, dear. But I can always make some more.”

Wonka leaned a little closer and kissed your cheek, his actions getting a little giggle out of you.

A warm, pleased smile lit up his face at the sound as you voiced your happiness. He adored the sound of your laughter and would try to make you laugh as much as he could, but right now all it was telling him was how happy you were to be thought of for once.

He had put his time, energy and love into each gift. It did not matter what he got you or what was made—you would treasure anything if it came from him.

To you, Valentine’s Day wasn’t about who got the biggest or most expensive gift. It was about the consideration one had for their partner and their desire to show it.

Wonka went the extra mile for you because he wanted to and that was what made it special, not the gifts themselves.

“I got you something too,” you began and your voice had taken on a sheepish tone when you spoke these words to him.

Your timidity amused him and he tilted his head, “have you?”

“Well, actually, I made you something,” you corrected yourself, “I decided that might be best since, you know…it might be more special.”

What do you get for someone who already has everything he could ever want?

The words almost left his lips, but Wonka stopped himself.

His gaze lingered on you as you shifted into a different position, facing him now rather than leaning into him. He wondered what it was that was making you so nervous, but he chalked it up to the experience itself.

The last time you had given yourself wholeheartedly to someone on this day, you were taken advantage of.

Wonka had known you long enough that you had felt comfortable divulging these painful details to him and his heart ached at the thought of how much it had hurt you to put on a brave face.

You did not have to do that with him; he could see everything that you were and he loved you, for better or for worse. Your honesty meant the world to him and even if you ever crossed paths with someone who did not, Wonka always would. You could say anything to him and it would not have changed a thing about how he felt—true love was never conditional.

His hand tentatively reached out and rested on your knee, a comforting gesture of reassurance that he knew you appreciated.

“I wrote you a poem,” you said with uncertainty.

“A poem? You mean…you wrote me something?”

At first, you were afraid you had said something wrong, but you pushed through the initial discomfort to ask, “is that alright?”

“Darling, that’s more than alright!” he exclaimed, “that’s perfect! Now, let’s hear this poem of yours.”

His positive reaction was enough to put you at ease long enough for you to take a small piece of paper out of your pocket and unfold it. You cleared your throat and decided you wouldn’t look at him until you were done reading.

Your face grew hot and you could feel his eyes on you, but you pushed through your discomfort because he deserved this.

He deserved your words—he deserved to know that he influenced your creativity as much as you influenced his.

‘My head is a garden of

chocolate roses and dream water

and the waxing moon is a pink goddess

whispering deliriously

how in love you are

with me.’

You spoke again to fill the silence after you were finished, “I know that’s only one, but I…there’s more. I just—”

“Darling, that was delightful. Almost as delightful as you are,” Wonka gently lifted his hand and brought it to your cheek as his thumb swiped lovingly across your skin, “the only thing that I can think of that I want any more of right now…is you.”

He coaxed you into him, his arm winding its way around your shoulders again as you leaned into him.

Hot tears pricked your eyelids, but both you and Wonka chose to let the emotion be.

“I had no idea you were such a poet,” he whispered to you, one hand massaging your back while the other stroked your hair, “I have to say I am quite eager to hear what else you’ve written about me.”

He was starting to feel inadequate, as silly as it would have been for him to admit, because you had just unwittingly given him the greatest gift he ever could have hoped for.

To learn that he had become your muse was almost too much for him to handle.

Your words were tattooed on his heart and in his mind where he would never forget them.

“I’m happy you liked it.”

Relieved.

You were relieved that he liked it.

You had wanted to do so much more for him, but what could you do that would encompass everything you felt for this man who had captured your heart and kept it safe right next to his own?

What price could be put on the love you shared?

Your love was priceless, so what better means of devotion was there other than your own creativity?

After all, Willy Wonka was who he was because he dared to dream his creations to life.

The very least you could do was follow his example, but instead of using your craft to speak to the rest of the world, for now, the only ears these words were meant for were his.

***

A quiet evening together was all you had wanted—nothing could have been more perfect.

After the gift exchange, you cut two slices of cherry pie and the two of you enjoyed the dessert together before tidying up your space a little before having a shower.

You had successfully coaxed him into joining you in the bathroom.

You and Wonka rarely had time to share your personal care routines, but you had decided to take the day at a much slower pace than what was typical. You wanted to savor every extra moment you had together because after tonight you’d be back to the usual busy schedule you each maintained.

It bothered you to wake up to an empty bed every morning, but Wonka had a factory to run.

He wasn’t not around because he didn’t want to be and occasionally you had to remind yourself of that.

He would remind you as well, especially on nights like this.

He held you close in the shower, the heat rising between your bodies as you pressed together under the water while droplets clung to and condensed upon the glass.

Sharing this little life with him was enough to satisfy you.

You didn’t need fancy things, gifts or opulence to bring you joy. Wonka was your happiness and you clung to that as much as you clung to him, steadfast and tightfisted, afraid to let go.

He didn’t mind.

Wonka was elated to be loved so deeply by someone he valued above most. He did so much for you because he wanted to show that he cared as much as he said it.

Speaking of love was only just enough to open the door; Wonka intended to step over the threshold.

You both took your time with your nighttime routine, spending as much time in as close proximity as you could; you could never have enough of him. The gentle brush of lingering touches as you each carried out your routine side by side made the longing bubble up inside of your chest. You felt overwhelmed by it at times, when you could feel the need surfacing again, and all you wanted was to lose yourself in him.

Time did not allow for it very often, but when you had the chance to sink into him, you fully submerged yourself in that love.

After your shower, you and Wonka retired to the bedroom.

For once, you weren’t feeling worn out or exhausted and you were looking forward to resting in your lover’s arms. The chance to talk to him for an extended period warmed your heart and left you buzzing with excitement. You day did not often allow for you to be so candid with your lover, to talk to him privately for as long as you wanted. You were both busy, but this holiday was for and because of the love you shared and there was nothing that was going to stand in your way, not even the ever-present need for sleep.

Wonka cradled you, your head resting in the crook of his arm as you spooned against him. His other hand caressed you, rubbing up and down your side or lovingly tracing his fingers over your arm, watching with an amused grin as goosebumps rose upon every inch of your flesh that he touched. You were so sensitive to him, your body swaying with the waves of his love that crashed upon your shores, undulating ripples that lured you into the deep wild ocean until he caught you up in a riptide and you were swept away in the current.

Your love was not always like that: rough and frenzied like that of the ocean.

You wanted a love like the lazy river, face upturned towards the sun, floating through life with him in soft currents of blue that mirrored the hues in his eyes.

He nuzzled you, his nose trailing along the curve of your jaw; he adored holding you like this.

Everything about this moment was perfect—he wouldn’t change a thing.

“Did you enjoy your special day?” Wonka asked, his velvet voice cloaking you the same way that you imagined his plum coat did to him and made you feel safe and warm on the inside.

“It was our special day,” you gently corrected him, “and of course. The best part was getting you all to myself, at least, earlier in the day than I normally do.”

“I apologize for being absent, my dear,” his words were emphasized with a kiss to your temple, “I promise to find more time for you. You know as well as I that we both want that.”

You nodded, feeling the tears beginning to well up in your eyes and the lump forming in your throat that you had learned to speak around as if it were a part of your dialect and speech pattern, “We do. I need you, Willy. Now, perhaps, more than ever.”

Your words resonated within him. You were right and he would do his best to give you what you needed.

“My heart has always needed yours, my dear. I just didn’t know it.”

His words pulled you in and you kissed him, full-blooded and passionate as the air inside your bedroom climbed several degrees.

You dug your fingers into him, pulling his heart apart like plump fruit flesh you intended to devour.

In a flurry of blankets and pillows, you were on top of him.

You eased into his embrace, breathing him in like spring air after the wild heart of winter had claimed you for far too long; it was his summer sunshine gaze that was enough to thaw the ice inside your chest and make room for you to open up, a sweet, fresh blossom whose petals have yet to touch sunlight, to him.

***

Your passionate lovemaking continued throughout the night, several strenuous sessions stretching across the span of a few hours were broken up by warm conversation that connected you to him more than than feeling of having him deep inside you.

It was now reaching nearly 2am.

Valentine’s Day was over, but true love did not exist for just one day.

Wonka was exhausted; what he lacked in stamina, he made up for in passion and charisma.

You curled in against his body, your back curved and tucked in against his side as he caught his breath for the third time that night.

You both had been vulnerable with each other in ways neither of you could have ever imagined with anyone else. It was enough to say that just by sleeping in the same room, you trusted Wonka more than perhaps any other man you had ever met.

Wonka’s standard gentle voice, albeit a bit strained now, filled your ears, “I believe it is time we called it a night, my dear.”

You could not have agreed more.

Your reply came in the form of a tired yawn and you gave a long, full-bodied stretch as you settled in next to him more solidly.

You could have sworn you heard him chuckle before his hands pulled you in and spooned you against his front. A few more kisses were laid lovingly upon your arm and shoulder as he got comfortable in this position. One of his forearms wrapped around your middle, his shirtsleeve riding up to reveal the faintest dusting of fine sand-colored hair.

Wonka held you to him, listening to your breathing even itself out as you slowly drifted off into a deep, comfortable slumber.

Once he was certain you were asleep was when he got himself out of bed.

He crossed the room to the closet, opened it and reached in for something.

He brought the item back to bed with him, circled the bed till he was at your side and gently lifted your arm off the mattress so that he could place a teddy bear in your grasp while you slept.

You would awaken at some point the next morning and find it cuddled close to your chest; he was excited to watch your reaction to the plush teddy once you realized it was there.

The teddy bear was dressed in matching attire to Wonka’s signature outfit and was even clutching a golden ticket in its paws.

He smiled at the sight of you snuggling up to the stuffed toy, nuzzling into its fur and even in your unconscious state he knew you could tell that it smelled like him.

“Something for you to snuggle with while I am away,” he whispered as he leant over you at the same time and tenderly stroked your hair.

He went back to his side of the bed and climbed in, pulling the duvet up to your chins as he settled back into his spot.

His arm wrapped around you again, mindful of the teddy bear in your arms.

He would be here when you woke up so that he could see your reaction, but for now, he was ready to sleep.

Wonka hoped you had had as good of a Valentine’s Day as he had.

You deserved even more than Wonka could give you, but he would stop at nothing just to try.

He had to try for you, as much as you tried for him, because it was enough. You were enough for him and even though he knew who he was and was proud of that fact, he still felt inadequate from time to time. He wanted to be the best version of himself that he could be, because you deserved nothing but the best.

Though no amount of wishing made things a reality, Wonka had learned that even simply trying was enough to create something beautiful, even if it was not what was initially intended.

You came as much of a surprise to him as did his beloved creations; he had gotten lucky and built something beautiful with you and he would treasure you and your companionship for the rest of his life.

He was content to spend quiet days like this next to you.

Neither of you needed fancy things; you needed each other, like the sun needs the moon or like flowers need water.

One could not survive without the other and as cliché as it sounded, Wonka still believed it because he had never stopped believing in what his mind told him.

After all, who would he have been without the thoughts in his head?

He did not have to think too hard anymore.

With you in his life, inspiration was abundant.

You were his muse and his world was painted with colors he could never have seen before meeting you.

Cupped gently in your hands was where his heart was meant to be.

Lulled by thoughts of his beloved, the sweet scent of you filling his nostrils and your gentle snores reaching his ears, Wonka closed his eyes and finally allowed sleep to wash over him like the tide.

#willy wonka #willy wonka and the chocolate factory #willy wonka 1971 #wilder!wonka #1971!wonka #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka x you #willy wonka imagine #wwatcf #willy wonka and the chocolate factory imagine #gene wilder #౨ৎ::biblio::౨ৎ

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hooked-on-elvis · 4 months ago

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"It's Still Here" (1973)

Recorded on May 19, 1971 at RCA’s Studio B, Nashville, TN. Released on July 16, 1973. Album: Elvis (Fool)

MUSICIANS Piano: Elvis Presley, Bass: Norbert Putnam. * The complete recording of “It’s Still Here” runs 4:40, including a breakdown in the middle of the take; it was edited down to 2:05 for the initial master.

RECORDING SESSION Studio Session for RCA May 15–21, 1971: RCA’s Studio B, Nashville On the night of May 15 RCA’s Studio B had been decorated for an early Christmas. A tree with beautifully wrapped empty boxes stood in the center of the room, but Elvis brought real gifts for the musicians and his own associates — gold bracelets engraved “Elvis '71.” All the players from the June 1970 sessions were back, and again there were no backup singers present. With no personnel changes and as few distractions as possible, Felton expected to be able to get all of Elvis’s recording done in short order and save all the sweetening for later. BACKSTORY: The studio was decorated for Christmas in May most likely to create the right mood for the musicians - specially to inspire Elvis himself, since everybody knew how much of a Christmas enthusiast he was. During that session they would cut songs that would be release in the same year, 1971, on the then upcoming album "Elvis Sings The Wonderful World Of Christmas", as well as begin to record songs for the following albums - a contemporary music album and a gospel album. The Christmas decoration might have helped but fact is Elvis was in a great mood during those May recording sessions, cheerfully joking with everybody in the studio, even showing off his karate skills, while keeping himself seriously engaged in doing his best work, specially with the religious songs. His light mood is quite intriguing since what happened to him a little time prior to that recording session. During a recording session on March 15-16th 1971, Elvis felt a striking pain on his eye and left to see a doctor, ending up being diagnosed with glaucoma.

Excerpt from book "Elvis What Happened" by Red West, Dave Hebler and Sonny West as told to Steve Dunleavy (1977).

Elvis leaving an eye doctor's office in Beverly Hills sometime in late 1971.

That year, 1971, was the beginning for the dark sunglasses era. Elvis took it all lightly, joking around with people about his serious health condition. One of those people was Kathy Westmoreland, to whom Elvis said, after showing her his collection of sun glasses:

"If I have to wear the damn things," Elvis smiled, making fun of himself, "I'm gonna have one in every color." Excerpt from "Elvis and Kathy" by Kathy Westmoreland (1987).

After the brief hospitalization and the emergency eye treatment, Elvis got right back into the recording studio in Nashville considerably fast.

— A LITTLE BIT OF THE RECORDING SESSION ON MAY 19, 1971 WHEN "IT’S STILL HERE" WAS RECORDED: During the day Elvis slept, but for most of the members of the band it was business as usual—sessions all morning and afternoon. When they came back to work nights with Elvis, Felton had an unwritten rule prohibiting anyone from yawning in the studio—for fear that it might “bring down” his star—and he insisted that the musicians take their breaks in the parking lot. And even Elvis made a trip to their “outdoor lounge” when he became bogged down in “Seeing Is Believing,” a new tune Red West had just frantically completed. Otherwise, though, he kept focused throughout the evening, actively directing the band, patiently discussing the backing parts with the female singers. Jerry Reed’s “A Thing Called Love” was completed with an elaborate vocal arrangement that featured bass singer Armond Morales in a unison part with Elvis throughout the song. References to the previous evening’s gunplay were flying, and after a while Elvis noticed how upset the Imperials became whenever he struck a karate pose. It was another night of good-humored ad-libbing. “He left the splendor of RCA—of Victor,” he sang self-referentially after one verse of “Listen To The Bells”; “went back to Sun Records. …” The next take of “A Thing Called Love” collapsed, and Felton as always deflected blame from Elvis onto the newcomer, Joe Moscheo. But Elvis, ever gracious when he was in good spirits, just changed the opening line of the song from “Six foot six, he stood on the ground” to “Three foot four …” and dedicated the song to Charlie Hodge. After the meal break the atmosphere changed. Determined to capture the mood he achieved while performing at home, Elvis sat down at the piano for an impassioned yet unassuming solo set. Two of the three songs he chose had been favorites as far back as his days in Germany: “I’ll Take You Home Again Kathleen” and Ivory Joe Hunter’s “I Will Be True,” both of which he’d recorded on his home equipment in Bad Nauheim. This old material was hardly what Felton or RCA were looking for in an Elvis session, but Al Pachucki was ready with the tapes rolling just the same. The most moving of the three was another Ivory Joe Hunter song, “It’s Still Here,” but later Felton excitedly reported to the Colonel that with overdubs they all would make “great tunes,” keen to convince both Elvis and his manager of their commercial potential.

Excerpt: "Elvis Presley, A Life in Music: The Complete Recording Sessions" by Ernst Jorgensen. Foreword by Peter Guralnick (1998)

AFTERMATH Five albums were out a while before the "Elvis (Fool)" album could be released in 1973. Following the 1971 Christmas album was the contemporary music album, "Elvis Now", and then the gospel album "He Touched Me" preceding two live record releases, the "Elvis: As Recorded At Madison Square Garden" (1972) and the "Aloha From Hawaii Via Satellite" (1973) albums, and just then the "Elvis (Fool)" album was made by putting together songs recorded during the May 1971 recording session as well as songs taped during recording sessions in February-March 1972.

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"IT'S STILL HERE" — LYRICS Songwriter: Ivory Joe Hunter The day you said we'd never part You turned around and broke my heart You had the nerve to tell me I would soon forget Now you've been gone away one year And I have not forgotten dear The love I had for you so long Is still here Wow-oh It's here, still here Because my heart cannot believe We're really through And though you said we'd never part You turned around and broke my heart The love I had for you so long Is still here It's here, still here Because my heart cannot believe We're really through Now you've been gone away one year And I have not forgotten dear The love I had for you so long Is still here Wow-oh It's here, it's here, still here Because my heart cannot believe We're really through And though you said we'd never part You turned around and broke my heart The love I had for you so long Is still here Wow-ow It's here, still here Because my heart cannot believe We're really through And though you said we'd never part You turned around and broke my heart The love I had for you so long Is still here Oh yeah

UNEDITED MASTER (4:45)

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ORIGINAL RECORDING Ivory Joe Hunter (1968)

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#this is a gem #elvis presley #elvis history #elvis music #ivory joe hunter #1968 #1971 #1973 #elvis #70s elvis #elvis discography #elvis songs #it's still here #elvis the king #Spotify #Youtube

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zzeraphilm · 8 months ago

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Both Sides

Angst - Lily Evans x F!Reader & Lily Evans x James Potter 4,211 words

Summary: Y/N and Lily were inseparable from their first year till the end of their sixth year, what changed?

September 1971

The rickety train meant Y/N had to cling onto the handle of her luggage with an iron claw, her shoulders banged against the tight carriageway, she plodded along to find an empty cabin. Her mother told her stories of how she met life long friends on her first ride to the wizarding school. Whilst the prospect of a stable sorority with other young witches sounded exactly like the day dreams she would fantasise about - the reality was more harsh. On previous occasions where her parents took her to soirees and banquets with other pure blood families, Y/N would herself to be a wallflower. Whilst other children her age retained their prestigious allure socialising amongst their cousins and members of higher wizarding society, Y/N was merely a fly on the wall. Hogwarts was going to be a fresh start for the young witch. She was determined to at least make one new friend this year.

Finally, Y/N perched herself in the empty cabin at the end of the eighth cabin. It took a few tries to throw her bags in the overhead, eventually she settled herself down with her small book on herbology that her mother gifted her before her travels.

‘You will be brilliant Y/N.’ The cursive ink stained the front page, Y/N ran her fingers over them, as if to feel her mother’s gentle hands on her shoulder.

The cabin next to hers was quite rowdy, a few screams could be heard despite the shut door. Y/N could hear her bags clang against the walls in response to the banging from the neighbouring cabin. She knew her moments of silence were gone the moment she hopped on the train, she did not expect to have the back of her seat punching her with every page turn of her book. Before she could go to the cabin beside hers, the door slid open to a pair of first years like herself.

“Hello, do you mind if we sit with you?” A tiny head of red hair stepped into Y/N’s cabin, beside her was a frowning young boy who refused to look at her. “The boys next door were being horrible, we promise we’ll be quiet.” The girl pleaded, Y/N gave her a soft okay and watched as the black haired boy help the girl to put her bags in the overhead beside his own.

They were correct in that they were quiet, too quiet it was awkward. Despite clearly being close friends, the pair only mumbled small comments to one another till they returned to silence. Next door was still just as loud as before the two joined Y/N. With a sigh, Y/N closed her book and introduced herself to the two with an anxious smile.

“I’m Lily Evans! And this is Severus.” The boy gave a minuscule smile in return to Y/N.

“What was happening over there?” Y/N pointed over her shoulder, gesturing to the banging wall behind her.

“Argh, these two boys! Originally that was our cabin, then they joined us and started arguing with us! This one boy, he said his name was James kept annoying me.” With a huff she crossed her arms tightly, her right leg plopped over her left and she leaned forward towards Y/N. “Honestly this is why I don’t deal with boys!”

“Isn’t he your friend though?” Y/N pointed at Severus who kept a silent scowl at the H/C haired girl.

Lily’s eyes widened slightly, “Oh Severus? We known each other since for forever! He’s basically like a brother to me. Besides,” the young ginger girl got up to sit beside Y/N, shoulder to shoulder. “Its not like I want to be friends with them, now that we’re here how about we become friends?”

Lily’s a bright smile that resembled the warmth of the golden Sun, Lily and Y/N became close friends. For the rest of the ride, the three children spoke enthusiastically about their dreams to become powerful mages, what clubs they’d join and what house they’d join.

—

“Gryffindor!” Y/N locked eyes with Lily with widening smiles to match. She galloped towards her new found friend and sat beside her at the dinning table. As she admired the red flags that hang above them, Lily was bickering with the boy opposite to her.

“Nice to see you again Lilypad!” The curly haired lad greeted her with a smile. Beside him was a snickering boy who egged the boy on.

“Oh piss of Potter! You’ve been annoying me all day, for once just be a good person and leave me be. Come on Y/N!” she linked arms with her friend, whose E/C eyes gave the boys a squinted look of distain. Before the girls would move to a different seat, the Gryffindor prefects were already being to guide them up to the common room.

Thankfully, Y/N and Lily were roomed together along side two other girls Mary McDonald and Marlene McKinnon, the four girls promised to stick together for their first year at Hogwarts. Slowly Y/N’s sorority that her mother promised was coming together nicely. Lily and Y/N giggled in a tight hug, jumping in the air at the thought of a years long sleep over. Beside them the other girls, Marlene laughed at their reaction whilst unpacking her clothes neatly on her bed.

By nightfall, after an extensive exploration trip across the castle. The four girls were sound asleep in bed, till Y/N awoke in a fright. Her forehead shone with beads of sweat, it was as if she had been pulled from a lake before drowning to death. The room was quiet, faint snores interrupted the wispy air from outside of the tower. The H/C haired girl looked down at her shaking, sweating hands. A pit of an endless void had opened in her stomach, she could feel the floor swallowing her whole beneath her. She wanted to cry, the excitement and thrill of the prestigious school had masked her anxieties, until the night came and ripped the veil from her crown to reveal her whimpering self. She wanted to go home, see her mother and father again. Everything was moving so fast for her, by dawn she was expected to go to class as normal. How was she supposed to go about her days like this?

“Psst.”

A harsh whisper broke her spiralling mind.

“Pssssst. Y/N!” Lily who laid on her side, her little head out of her thick duvet, motioned to her to come closer. “You okay?”

Y/N tried to hide her quivering lip and nodded, faking a strong front.

“It’s okay, come sleep in my bed tonight.” The girl lifted the duvet up for Y/N to slide herself in. Lily’s small palms wrapped around her, their faces were centimetres away from each other, their noses tapped against one another. Y/N’s eyes could only focus on the freckles on dear Lily’s face, they sprinkled across her cheeks, over the bridge of her nose and lead up to her forehead. They shone like the celestial stars above, her emerald eyes whilst hazy, still glistened with a flicker of warmth, unlike her eyes shut and her faint breaths blew onto Y/N’s face. The two slept in each others arms their first night at Hogwarts, Y/N no longer harboured any feelings of worry or ache for her home beyond the castle, instead her chest beamed with a soft lightness from Lily Evan’s embrace.

December 1974

The first few years at Hogwarts was full of adventures, new friendships and the occasional squabble. Of course, their studies remained their top priority (at least between Lily and Y/N), the multitude of cliques across the four houses have blended and shuffled around the courtyard on multiple occasions. After the first win for the Gryffindor Quidditch team of their third year, with James as their star seeker. That night, the Gryffindor common room was full of booming laughter, muggle music blasting on high and mysterious liquids presumed to be some ‘punch’. The boys of the prideful house chanted Potter’s name in unison, beside the star of the night were his three friends that continued the roughhousing. Lily and Y/N sat by the window sill, giggling together about the gossip they learnt earlier in the day. Y/N loved Lily’s laugh, her sickly sweet smile only made her heart race further, since their first day at school the H/C haired witch only felt more attached to the emerald eyed faery in front of her.

When it was just the two of them, Y/N and Lily felt invincible. On occasion, Severus would stand beside them, but slowly he had been distancing himself from Lily. Some nights, Y/N stay up for hours consoling her best friend, rubbing her back whilst she cried into her pyjama shirt, ignoring the stains and repeatedly reassuring her that Severus is still her friend. That she mustn’t worry her little head. In response, Lily continued to let Y/N sleep in her bed whenever she had nightmares of her own, drawn from dull memories of her lonely past.

Whilst the duo remained good friends with McKinnon and McDonald, as well as other girls across their class - Lily and Y/N were inseparable. To the point where Professor McGonagall gave into allowing the pair to work together on their latest Transfiguration class presentation, after the duo had chewed her ears off for days in her office.

Whilst Y/N’s eyes never wandered beyond Lily’s own, side glances danced across the Gryffindor common room during the celebration, green met hazel, green would dart away back to E/C. Instead of looking away, James strutted over to the girls, bursting their bubble.

“Evans, L/N.” Despite his polite introduction to the both of them, he only had his eyes focused on the auburn beauty with star speckled freckles.

“You not going to congratulate me?” He smirked.

“You’re too haughty to be considered a champion. James Potter, you lack any sense of humility.” Lily spat back. Y/N felt like the tiny child at the pure blood soirees all over again, the fly on the wall. Lily was supposed to be her closest confidant, the one that her heart would beat for. Yet Lily hadn’t looked her way once the moment James came over.

James only laughed in response, “Oh Lilypad you need to relax! You’re actually like a real snob right now.” He tried to wrap his arm around her shoulders but Lily shoved his hand off before it could land.

“Why don’t like you me Evans?” James’ lips pouted slightly like a child without his favourite toy.

“Because you and your friends only bring mischief to everyone else’s lives! Why can’t you just be a normal student.”

“Well excuse me, but everyone finds our activities quite amusing! Charming in fact!”

“Charming? You have only shown me your true colours whenever you insert yourselves in-between me and my friends! A selfish and self-centred prick!”

Even at 14, Lily hated the bitter taste that cussing left only her tongue. Yet James found it amusing. Y/N saw it as endearing.

“Nah, don’t worry Evans. Soon you’ll fall for my charms!” He shouted walking back into the crowd, swallowing in the sea of people.

To everyone’s surprise, Lily decided to follow him. Not for him, but just a few paces behind. She wanted to see the chaos and the rupture, the ruckus and the excitement. She wanted to body the music, show the room that she can shine even brighter than Potter.

Her body swayed with the music, the dimly lit common room felt an explosion of light as she was in the centre of the pit of people. Y/N could swear that the world stopped when she saw Lily’s hair sway along with her hips, her hands guiding along her body. Whilst everyone crowded around the red head embracing her warmth, Y/N was left in her shadows. She had forgotten just how bright Lily shone. That it was just her who noticed her beauty, or James or Severus. Boys and girls from every year wanted to dance with her, joke with her and have their names on her lips. Of course Lily would bloom facing the sun, as wallflowers are just vines compared to sunflowers.

April 1975

It was inevitable for Lily to become a Prefect for Gryffindor house. Alongside Remus Lupin, who only made more connections between Lily and James. Something Y/N was reluctant to accept. For some odd reason, every corner they went, James Potter and his posse was trailing nearby. Y/N was friendly for the most part, having known of Sirius Black from the multiple social gatherings her parents would drag her to in the summer. Whilst they were not friends per say, she tolerated him, despite his reputation. Between the lot of them, Y/N preferred the presence of Remus the most, largely due to his quiet demeanour in comparison to the other Marauders. She was not oblivious to the lingering stares and the hugs that lasted a few seconds longer between Remus and Sirius. She could see that they two would act the same way she would around Lily. Instead it was presumably reciprocated.

“Hey Lils, are you free tonight?” Y/N asked, they were on their way to the library for some private study time between them.

“Hmm, I think I am? There hasn’t been any notice for any meetings or patrols. Why? You want to do something?” Lily smiled as bright as always, her soft round cheeks framed her face perfectly.

“Well did you bring that muggle music player this year after Christmas? I wanted to listen to a few of the songs you spoke about.”

“Oh yes! There’s this singer, Joni Mitchell who I love! I’ve wanted you to listen to her music for a while now! Let’s just go straight to our room and listen to them!”

With her sweet giggle that made Y/N’s heart flip somersaults, they walked as fast as they could through the halls of Hogwarts, hand in hand as Lily pulls along her friend. Y/N can’t help but bask in the glory that was Lily Evans, as the candles light the halls that cast a halo on the girl in front of her.

Lily had dragged out her record player and held up the vinyl, she delicately placed it on the turntable.

Rows and floes of angel hair, and ice cream castles in the air

The redhead girl floated around her bed, her arms move softly like the wind. Her skirt pleats spun with each twirl. A light smile that silently sung the lyrics of the sirens song.

I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now, from up and down and still somehow

Y/N joined her after letting the memory of Lily’s swaying cement itself in the deepest corner of her mind. She’ll forever replay these few minutes endlessly. The girls slowly swayed alongside the melodies of Joni Mitchell, hand in hand, eyes locked on each other. Y/N felt her heart race, as the soft guitar strummed a floating chord, Lily was a blooming flower that she wished to hold. They were so close, mere centimetres a part, she gazes at Lily’s freckles and her breath lightly grazes her skin just like the their first night in Hogwarts. The H/C haired girl leaned to close the gap between them, their lips locked for what felt like an eternity. She was as sweet as honey and soft as a cloud. Before Y/N could cup Lily’s rosy cheeks, she stepped back and her emerald eyes were as wide as saucers.

“I- Lily I-“

“I’m sorry Y/N, I didn’t think…that…I’m sorry.” She sighed and sat on her bed, moving the needle off of the record, bringing the room to a halting silence.

“I shouldn’t have kiss you. It was dumb, I should’ve asked. Hell, I shouldn’t have assumed!” Y/N sat on the other end of the bed, for the first time in years there was a deathly distance between the two.

Lily shook her head, “No I just…I don’t really know how to put it into to words. I do like you, I don’t know though. I just…I’m sorry Y/N I’m so confused. You’re my best friend! But when we kissed, I really liked it. I don’t know I’m so sorry Y/N.” Her eyes no longer gleamed with joy but rather trickled with beads of tears that rolled down her rosey cheeks, dancing over her freckles. Y/N couldn’t help but pull her into a hug, rubbed her back and let her cry on her shirt just as she’s done for her many moons ago.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to know, let’s just keep things how it is. Okay?”

June 1976

By the time O.W.Ls rolled in, Y/N had more classes without Lily, the time spent together was growing shorter each day. Y/N and Lily no longer shared a room, after a few confusing dorm swaps amongst their peers, they had been separated for the first time in their schooling lives. For Y/N the first term sleeping without Lily beside her felt empty. Whilst she remained good friends with Lily, Marlene, Mary and now Dorcas beyond class and dorm life - the moment she returns to her chambers, she blanks. Her roommates were already good friends from previous years, and she lacked the energy to befriend them after drowning her thoughts of Lily into her Charms textbook. Y/N would regularly sit with Lily, Marlene and Mary at breakfast, but none of them would be around for dinner at the same time. Either some may leave early or come late.

One sunny after an intense exam, Y/N wanted to take time for herself and sat by one of the lakes that surrounded the castle. She had been rereading the herbology book her mother gifted to her in first year, she would only read it whenever she was homesick or lonesome or empty - which was now most of the time.

Her serene reading was interrupted by a loud commotion just across the lake. A large crowd had surrounded a tree, with a boy being flung upside-down, their fingers pointed towards his humiliation. Jeering and loud shouts echoed to Y/N on the other side of the lake. Bloody Potter, she thought seeing the quartet leading the pack. From a far, she saw Lily stomp her way towards the scene, pushing James and shouting words Y/N could barely make sense of. Once the crowd scattered at the sight of the house Prefect, she saw Severus yell at the auburn haired girl. The spat continued till Lily stormed off, Y/N clawed herself up to run and reach her, to make sure she was alright, to let her shirt be stained again. By the time she caught up to her she had slammed the door of her room shut and locked herself in.

Y/N laid her head softly against the closed door, in a delicate whisper, she cried.

“Lils, it’s me. Let me in. Let me help you.”

Lily was never one to deny a hug. She truly believed in the love that a hug can give. And she really needed one at that moment. She gently opened the door, tears still running down her cheeks, she pulled Y/N in by her sleeve and shut the door behind her. Burying her head in Y/N’s chest, tears seeping into another shirt of Y/N’s that she’ll need to wash. A head laid on top of her auburn hair lightly cooing her to tranquility.

They stayed that way for at least a few minutes. Y/N guided Lily to her bed and embraced her under the duvets. Lily’s tried moans about Severus and Potter slowly grew quieter till she soon fell unconscious in her arms. Y/N, whose chest ached for her love’s despair, kissed Lily’s forehead and the two slept one last time together in each other's arms, despite the cruelty of the world around them.

September 1977

James Potter as Head Boy only meant more time for him to spend with Lily Evans, Head Girl. His ascent into an academic beast was surprising to say the least. His position as Head Boy was met with a few glares from other peers, since he was never a Prefect nor was his reputation clean enough to represent the good morals of the school.

Word went around that Lily and James grew closer over the summer, Sirius had joined James’ home and finally got with Remus. The Marauders and Lily began their seventh year much closer than Y/N had hoped for. Due to familial affairs, she was to join her last year at Hogwarts a week later than everyone else. Which, lead to the tight formation of the expanded Marauders friendship group. Lily had joined the boys in their cabin on the train back to Hogwarts, Marlene and Mary would tag along and would frequent the courtyard with the rest of them.

Lily and James’ bond only grew stronger with time spent as Head Boy and Head Girl, their friendship groups merging and James’ clear signs of maturity. He was no longer the arrogant, frivolous boy who mocked those who opposed him. He had began to grow more pragmatic, he held his head up high with widened shoulders. His curls were neatly managed instead of the wires he used to call hair in first year. He had an aura of charisma that rubbed off on everyone else. Their group only drew them closer, but pushed Y/N further away.

Her first day back was a shock to say the least. Lily and James were, clearly attracted to one another. Their group didn’t bat an eye when she walked past, despite Lily’s vehement comments that they were still best friends, Y/N didn’t feel the same. She stayed to herself most of the time, occasionally spending time with Alice Fortescue in the library. She’d glance at Lily and James’ flirtatious teasing in the courtyard from the library window.

It’s almost as if we were nothing, she thought. Every summer, Y/N would think back to the kiss they shared, the countless nights they spent sleeping in each others arms. Was she not clear with her feelings? Did Lily just not see her as she truly is?

The annual winter trip to Hogsmead arrived faster than before, determined to confess to Lily before James could, Y/N had insisted on meeting Lily at the crack of dawn before everyone arose.

The stairs leading up to the girl’s dormitories echoed the sound of clacking shoes. Over time, Y/N memorised Lily’s footsteps, she knew what Lily was feeling based on how loud or light the steps were. This time they were slightly heavier, louder.

“Morning Y/N, what did you want to talk about this early in the morning? I’ve a few things I need to do soon though, wanted to get everyone presents for Christmas once in town.” Despite her warm smile, a glint of annoyance hid behind her pupils. Y/N could tell by the hesitance in her breathe at the end of each sentence.

“Lily what happened to us?”

“What do you mean?” She tilts her head to the left slightly, genuinely confused.

“Fourth year, we kissed, if anything it was more than just a peck! And every year since first year we have spent countless nights together. Lily I have been so obvious with my love for your since at least the day you showed me Joni Mitchell! I know you don’t know how you feel, but you can’t act as if everything we’ve done was nothing! Lily, I just.” With a deep sigh Y/N fell to sit on the nearby armchair.

“Lily I just want you to tell it to me straight. Reject me, deny me. Tell me to forget about you. Tell me you never want to see me again. Shatter my dreams of you, because I don’t know how else I can keep looking at you without hoping you’d one day be in my arms.” She looked up at the girl before her, the fire of the common room flickered shadows of embers on her pale skin. They had always found themselves feeling comfort in the silence between them, yet this time, it was like a stab to the heart.

“I love you Y/N. But, not in the way you want me to love you. I’m sorry.”

The girls finally looked at each other properly for the first time in months, Lily had grown into a beautifully proud woman, her red hair so well kept and grown to reach the tips of her waist, her insistent smiles and laughter were slowly showing on her face. Y/N, still smiled in return and with a deep sigh of relief they went their separate ways, to enjoy the winter season a part.

#lily evans x reader #lily evans x james potter #lily evans angst #lily evans fanfiction #the marauders fanfic #the marauders era #harry potter #sapphic #wlw #lily evans #james potter #angst #marauders fanfiction

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