Imagine on Asgard, your partner is decided by a matchmaker who aligns you with your soulmate. Usually, all soulmates are found by a time a youth hits puberty, and when their eyes meet, both matching souls feel like they are drawn to the other. But you are different, they cannot find your soulmate, something that has never happened before. Heartbroken, you roam around for your entire teens, alone, feeling like you will never know love.
Walking through the market one day, you pay little attention to what is happening around you, your way of ignoring the throngs of happy couples with their soulmates, when suddenly, you are brought back to reality when you notice a horse rearing right in front of you. You are sure it is going to land down on you, when you feel a strong arm around your stomach, pulling you to safety. When you turn, you are gazing into the emerald green eyes of Prince Loki and suddenly, nothing else in the worlds matter, only those rich green eyes. The look on his face tells you that he feels the same way.
In 17th Century Amsterdam, an orphaned girl (Alicia Vikander) is forcibly married to a rich and powerful merchant (Christoph Waltz) – an unhappy “arrangement” that saves her from poverty. After her husband commissions a portrait, she begins a passionate affair with the painter (Dane DeHaan), a struggling young artist. Seeking to escape the merchant’s ever-reaching grasp, the lovers risk everything and enter the frenzied tulip bulb market, with the hope that the right bulb will make a fortune and buy their freedom.
Directed by: Justin Chadwick
Starring: Alicia Vikander, Dane DeHaan, Christoph Waltz, Judi Dench, Zach Galifianakis, Cara Delevingne, Jack O'Connell, Kevin McKidd, David Harewood, Matthew Morrison, Holliday Grainger, Tom Hollander
bob: you guys might be wondering why i’m here in public in my Distinctly Smelly bathrobe and socks. well, because this is my brand, people. you know that old spice girls jingle: if you wannabe my lover, you gotta get with my carefully constructed market image.
Roussel made this little memento after he had lunch on July 29th, 1923 with the astronomer and writer, Camille Flammarion. He saved a star-shaped cookie from the occasion which he encased in a silver pendant with glass. The piece was sold after his death in 1933 and discovered by chance by Georges Bataille at a flea market. Bataille gave it to his then-lover, Dora Maar who kept it for the rest of her life.
If she is porcelain then her
husband is iron and arsenic. His smile to Fenris is insincere, just as much as
Hawke’s is to Danarius. He’s much older than Hawke, written in the lines around
his mouth, the permanent crease between his brows. There are dark circles under
his eyes, a cruel malice contained inside grey irises. He’s barely spoken and
yet Fenris already hates him. He tries to tell himself it isn’t jealousy.
Danarius tears into his food like a beast, knife scraping against the plate as
he cuts his steak.
“Your work has garnered much
talk. I’m amazed no one has offered you their patronage,” he says, sliding a
carrot into his mouth. He sits at one end of the table, while Hawke has moved
to the other. Fenris remains in the middle, darting glances at her while she
speaks to him. She has her fork in hand, picking at food without really eating
it. She glances up at him shyly when he speaks.
“Offers have been made, but I
have declined all. I enjoy the freedom of choosing my clients. Having a patron
would limit me. How could I only paint one person when there are so many
interesting faces in the world?” he says. She gifts him with a pleased smile
and raises the glass of wine to her lips. Danarius smirks at his answer.
“How curious.” He chews with
vigor, before leaning back in his chair and dropping his fork to his plate. “In
any case, you must begin the portrait of my wife immediately. It’s a shame she
hasn’t been painted before,” Danarius says. Fenris takes a sick pleasure in
knowing he will be the first to pain her. The first to brush strokes of the
delicate curve of her neck. To flourish her cheeks with color, to touch lips
with the deepest red. To know the fierceness of her gaze, to capture the
thoughts in her head. He would make her think of him and nothing else. They
lock eyes from across the table. He fears she already knows what he’s thinking.
“Of course, my lord. I am eager
to begin,” Fenris says, leaving Hawke’s gaze to look at Danarius. He lets out a
pleased huff as he settles the knife beside his plate. He adjusts it until it
is perfectly straight. He moves restlessly in his chair, his fingers tapping an
uneasy rhythm against the table.
“Whatever you have need of, we
will be happy to supply.”
“That is most generous of you.
Thank you.” Another pleased huff. He reaches for the glass of wine, down it
quickly. It hits the table with a loud chink. He pulls the napkin from his lap,
dabs it across his mouth before throwing it down upon his plate.
“Our doors are open to you as
needed. Please, allow my wife to show you out,” Danarius says, putting a firm
end to the evening. He rises from his seat immediately, disappearing into the
corridor. Fenris only barely catches the roll of Hawke’s eyes. He stands only
when she does, and she moves for him immediately. Her arm entwines around his,
her other hand resting open it. Shoulder to shoulder, they walk to the foyer.
“You must let me come with you
to the market,” she says, leaning her head close to his. “I want to learn all
your secrets.” He knows she means his paintings, but he still clears his throat
and flushes slightly. He dares not turn his head, to look towards her. He knows
he will see the perfect line of her face, those red lips, and the square of her
dress framing the swell of her breasts. Only when they reach the door does she
remove herself from him. Only, her hand lingers on his, holds it so loosely.
The Winter Soldier is Still Here (Stone Cold-Part One)
Description: You work at the local farmers market every Saturday selling produce. You catch Bucky’s eye, not only because you’re the only one who sells plums, but because you treat him like a normal person. As a friendship begins to bloom,it quickly grows into a relationship and you learn that life with Bucky isn’t as easy it originally seemed.
Word Count: 3112
Pairing: Bucky x reader
Warnings: None…fluffy like a marshmallow :)
So I did, in fact, begin writing a Bucky Fic and here is the first part. Please let me know what you think and what you may like to read. I don’t have the firmest grip on this one right now, definitely not as firmly as I’d like, so I’m very open to ideas!! Thanks so much!
BUCKY POV ————— I woke up and stared at the bare ceiling of my studio apartment.
“Oh, God, another day.”
I looked to the clock on my right. 7:30. I guess one thing I don’t miss from the 40s is the Army morning roll call at 5am. I might as well get up and get going before all the best things are bought.
Going to the Farmers Market in town has become a habit of mine shortly after moving out of the Stark tower and to this mountain town. I don’t think I’ll ever understand why Steve said this would be a great place for me. There are tens of thousands of college students, individuals, and families all around the town. Despite all of the people crowded into such a small town, I can see the charm he saw in it.
Fall is finally starting to set in. The leaves are just beginning to change shades and the air is crisp. Even back in the 40’s, Fall was my favorite season…if for no other reason than all the dolls I went out with were extra cuddly and boy, you could get far for giving up a jacket.
As I got lost in the satisfying memories, I forgot I had been brushing my teeth until toothpaste drivel dropped down my chin and onto my chest, pulling me from picturing one of the gals I had wooed back in the day.
“Wake up, man, you’re never going to have that again. You have no warmth. You’ve killed dozens of people. You’re a cold killer even if you choose not to anymore. That choice doesn’t change your past or that you did it, no matter what Steve says,” I said, glaring at myself in the mirror threateningly.
READER POV —————- “Man, do I really want to go this morning?”
I rolled my eyes before slowly pushing myself up and out of bed. I wiped the sleep out of my eyes as I walked to the bathroom, only a few feet away, in my tiny apartment. I brushed my teeth to get the trashy taste out of my mouth and threw my hair into a ponytail. After a deep breath, it was time for coffee. My coffee maker would have to work harder this morning than it had been doing lately. It’s getting cooler outside as Fall is setting in. Thank heavens because even in the Virginia mountains, it had been a sweltering summer and I was fed up with sweating the moment I stepped out the door. As I fixed my coffee, my mind wandered, thinking of my family I’d left back in NC. Today would have been a nice day to drive down, but the market is open and I have products to sell and money to make. The bills aren’t going to pay themselves. When looking at my watch, I couldn’t help but notice I could squeeze in an extra five minutes of thought on my balcony. I opened the sliding door and stepped into the chill air, but was immediately warmed up by the rising sun and the hot coffee in hand.
I can’t help but sigh in the contentment of the moment. My eyes graze over the sinuous river, water peacefully lapping on the bank. The train tracks quiet, but in a few hours, once the market starts up, the resounding whistle is sure to be heard. The parking lots are fairly empty still, surprisingly. I figured more people would be getting their outdoor activities started early, but I suppose people just took the crisp morning to stay in bed for now.
Forgetting about my responsibilities, I noticed 10, instead of 5 minutes had passed. I quickly stepped inside and shut the door, locking it, and headed for the sink in one fluid movement. I slipped my Toms on, grabbed my bag, sweater, and beanie before closing the door behind me and locking it. I rushed down the stairs-the lift took too long-and to Kasper, the friendly Kia.
“Ooh! Good morning Kasper! Thanks for being warm and toasty!”
I’m sure glad I got a start up button when I got this vehicle, it sure comes in handy on mornings like this.
“Kasper, aren’t you glad we don’t have to drive out to the farm this morning?”
Kasper seemed to purr in response as I put him in reverse and headed down Main Street to the unloading spot they reserved for those selling at the market. I quickly unloaded what I had picked at the farm the previous evening. Yes, I live such a glamorous life. In between spending the majority of my time working at The Muse which was my favorite coffee shop when I moved here, two face-to-face classes a week, working through the rest of my grad school work at work or at my favorite local book store, the extra shifts I was able to catch at the school’s writing center, and picking fruit to sell at the market, there wasn’t really time for anything other than those things. I knew when I made the decision to quit my teaching job and move out of state for grad school, it was going to be a challenging transition, but it was worth it if I could conquer it in the end.
While all of these thoughts swam around in my head, I arranged the fruit, fixed and put up my sign, and waited for the crowds to arrive.
BUCKY POV ————— After I was dressed and ready to go, I headed out the door and took the lift. When I walked out of the door of my building, I pulled my sleeves down further and my gloves higher. The sun was shining bright, meaning if even a sliver of my metal arm was showing, anyone and everyone would notice. I took my time walking down the street. Despite that I was observant because of my training from Hydra, I was appreciative of it sometimes. In this mountain town, on a Saturday morning, I always felt like I could observe to relax instead of observe as preparation for conflict.
As I passed a mother and daughter going into Market at Main, I pulled the cap I was wearing further down over my eyes as the little girl pointed, scampering closer to her mother, recognizing me as the Winter Soldier. I looked down at the ground. I hate being something people fear. I hate what Hydra did to me. I’d be better off dead.
READER POV —————– The market was filling up with people by 8. I noticed that some of the surrounding tables had some of the same products as I did, but hopefully people would buy from me today. Rent is due on Monday and I’d really prefer not to delve into my savings-the little that’s left- for what I’m short on. Luckily at the farm I was able to get some of people’s Fall favorites such as apples, cranberries, tomatoes, winter squash, and of course pumpkins. I also was able to get my hands on some items that I didn’t see at other’s tables, such as parsnips, spinach, fennel, and plums. I hope that I’m able to make get some extra customers because of having different products than others who were selling today.
People were milling around, looking at different items, but no one had paid any close attention to the table yet.
“If I had thought about it, and hadn’t been running late, I would have made some coffee for customers to draw them in. Why didn’t I just get up this morning!?” I couldn’t help but think. I’ll be kicking myself the rest of the day because of it. The Lord must have heard my complaints because the teeny elderly lady at the next table sent a customer of hers my way.
“Good morning! How are you today?” I greeted the middle aged woman.
“I’m well, how are you, dear?”
“I’m well also, a little tired, but I’m here and loving this weather change! Is there something in particular I can help you with or are you just browsing?”
“I was actually looking for some parsnips for a recipe I found and it seems you’re the only person here selling any. These cranberries would look wonderful on my kitchen table too. I’ll take some of both.”
I let her pick out how much she wanted, wrapped the parsnips up with some twine and put the cranberries in a baggie for her. We exchanged products for money and I noticed she gave me too much.
“Oh ma'am, you gave me an extra $10.”
“No dear, that’s for you. I’ve been wanting to make this recipe and haven’t been able to find parsnips anywhere for months. Thanks to you I can finally make the dish, so you keep the extra! Have a great day, sweetie!”
I thanked her before she walked away. If this was any indication of how the day was going to go, I could use more of them.
The morning passed quickly, all the business I was receiving helped the morning move by rapidly. While I enjoy my outdoors time at the market, experiencing a little bit of a social life, I had so many things piled up at home for grad school that I needed to be doing. Whenever there weren’t people at the table, I attempted to look approachable while also making mental lists of everything I had to complete.
Around 11:30, I pulled out my snack bar while there weren’t many customers around. I remembered that today I was going to be able to splurge, thanks to some extra cash I’d picked up today, and grab some Filipino cuisine before heading home, but the market didn’t close ‘til 2pm and I’d still have to pack up what leftovers I had, which by the looks of things shouldn’t take too long, thankfully.
I was about halfway through my snack bar when this man appeared in front of me, looking at the plums I had for purchase. I had not even seen him approaching. I’m typically an overly observant person so for him to sneak up on me, he must be pretty skilled at hiding in plain sight. Nonetheless, I put my snack bar back in my bag behind me and speedily finished chewing and swallowed the remnants so that I could politely speak.
“I apologize about that sir.” I attempted my most size-able smile. “I didn’t notice anyone around and my breakfast is long gone. Typically people aren’t able to sneak up on me. You’ll have to teach me your ways.”
He simply stared at me, the smallest hint at a smirk visible, so small I wasn’t sure if it was a smirk or not. As I finished my apology, however, I knew it had been a smirk because it left and his face shifted into what seemed a sculpted stone and his eyes turned cold. Despite that cold look, I couldn’t quite conjure up the emotion of fear. Instead, sadness and compassion were what took the place of where fear should have been. I hesitated a moment before speaking, attempting to mend the situation.
“I’m sorry, bad joke. Is there something I can help you with? In the market for some plums, maybe?”
His statue face seemed to regain some vitality as I spoke again, almost as if he hadn’t realized a change in his face had even occurred. He smiled, however small, and I was thankful to see a smile, even if it didn’t reach his eyes.
BUCKY POV —————
“No way,” I said, just barely audible.
Many people had cleared out of the market by now. The only people left were those who weren’t quite as serious buyers and typically just browsing for something to do on a Saturday between breakfast and lunch. That’s how I liked it, though. Less people meant less chance of a problem, less chance for the Winter Soldier to escape and Bucky Barnes to get buried in his own mind once again. Don’t get me wrong, I know how ludicrous it sounds that someone could get to me and bring out the Winter Soldier in this quaint, yet busy, mountain town of Lynchburg…but if Zemo could get to me in a containment cell at a Counter Terrorist Centre in Germany, someone could get to me here.
I walked over to the table, noticing the girl who seemed to be the seller eating a snack bar on my way, to look at the plums for purchase.
“I can’t believe she has plums,” I thought.
She apparently didn’t notice me approaching, which was fine, I had received a few too many stares this morning. I examined the plums as she finished chewing what she had been eating before looking up at her as she began to address me. She was a little flustered it seemed, possibly embarrassed by being caught off guard, but she had such a winning smile and bewitching eyes attached to the beginning of her apology that I couldn’t stop myself from grinning until the end of her statement left her lips.
“My ways? My ways are callously learned. My ways were learned through torture. My ways come through atrocious lessons and from detestable people, if one could even call them that. They made me into this abhorrent monstrosity called the Winter Soldier. My ways were learned through memory loss, leaving me unable to even remember the closest thing to a brother I’ve ever had,” the thoughts reverberated through my mind.
I hadn’t even realized that I had not responded or how enraged my face must have become because her attempt to make things better with an apology snapped me back into reality. I gave her a slight smile, she deserved it for not freaking out at my evident change in behavior. There was one thing I didn’t understand though, she wasn’t afraid of me.
“That’s okay. Yes, I’m surprised to see plums. I haven’t seen any here before and they’re my favorite. They look good. How much are you asking?”
“Well, I’d typically charge .45 apiece, but if they’re your favorite and you haven’t been able to find any, I’ll drop that to .20 apiece,” she answered.
“That’s quite a price drop, are you sure?” Why was she dropping it so much lower. She wasn’t flirting. Why would she do that?
“Yeh,” she smiled genially, “definitely. Besides no one has really even paid them any mind today. You’re literally the only person who has acknowledged their existence, plus I don’t want to take them home with me. It’d be doing us both a favor if you wanted them all.”
I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows in surprise at her offer. Why was she being so nice. People weren’t this nice anymore. Even in my natural time of 1940’s, people weren’t this kind. She seemed genuine, nonetheless.
“Sure, if you’re sure you don’t mind. Or if you’d like I can come back at the end so not to stop you from making more profit if other people want to purchase them,” I offered.
She started grabbing a couple of plums at a time to bag them up. As she was picking them up, she hit one just right and it started to roll off the table. My instincts kicked in and I quickly leaned, stretching around the corner to grab it before it hit the concrete. In the process my sleeve slipped up, exposing most of my metal forearm. I paused when I caught the plum before looking up at her, ashamed and angry at myself for being so careless.
When I looked up, I saw her eyes move from my arm to my face and recognition set in. She knew who I was now. She knew I was the Winter Soldier, Hydra Assassin. No more nice farmer’s market girl. I prepared myself for the look of horror, but it didn’t come. Something in her eyes flickered, I didn’t know what it was exactly, nervousness? Whatever it was it was, it was masked quickly and she responded almost excitedly.
“That was so awesome! I’m so clumsy. Thank you for catching that. I guess you should technically be thanking yourself since it’s a plum for you, but still.” She was smiling but you could tell her a few nerves had been hit when she recognized who you were. She wasn’t freaking out, though? What parallel universe have I stepped into?
I went to put the plum down so that I wouldn’t have to hand it to her, but she snagged it from my hand like it was just a normal, innocent human hand, not a frigid, killing machine.
I looked at her, almost in awe, before pulling out my wallet to retrieve the cash to pay for the plums.
“Is there anything else you may be interested in” she asked before totaling up what I owed.
My old self flared up and I had to stop myself from saying “Just a night out dancing with you, doll.” The past few months I had had moments like these, almost like nothing had ever changed and I had always been regular Bucky Barnes, that kid from Brooklyn, who joined the 107th, brother and protector of little Steve Rogers, instead of brainwashed and forever changed by Hydra.
“I don’t think so, not today anyway, unless you have any apples hidden anywhere? A friend of mine is supposed to be visiting this week and they like apples.”
“Oh, no, I’m sorry I don’t. I did earlier, but they’ve all been sold by now. I’m sorry! I saw a few other people bringing in apples this morning, so maybe you’ll be able to find some at another table?”
I nodded and pulled out the cash I owed her plus a little extra. I know she wasn’t going to make any profit if she only charged me .20 apiece.
“Oh, no, it’s only $2.40!” she proclaimed when she saw the $10 I had given her.
“Keep the extra,” I said, giving her a smile.
“Wow. Thank you so much. You really don’t have to do this.”
“No, I don’t have to, but I want to. Have a great day.” She deserves even more for the way she reacted to the arm, but I didn’t want to completely freak her out.
“Yeh,” she seemed a little shocked, “you too. Thank you again.”
I nodded and turned to walk away. I stopped and turned back to her, trying to think of the best and least creepy way to ask if I’d see her again,
“Do you think you’ll have more plums next week?” was all I could come up with.