#Reflection: Beth Harmon
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Red Wine Supernova
First Wanda x Fem!R fic ever from me. Inspired by Red Wine Supernova. If you haven’t listened to this song, DO IT NOW!!!!
Summary: Wanda doesn’t have time for friends or fun... until you come along.
A/N: Fluff, set after Age of Ultron with canon divergence.
I'm in the hallway waitin' for ya
Mini skirt and my go-go boots (uh-huh)
I just want you to make a move
So slow down, sit down, it's new
Red appears between her fingers. Wanda throws around the small ball of energy, her eyes reflecting the beams.
This one is small, barely fitting between her fingers. But what if it was bigger? What if she was angry? Or sad?
What then?
A plate is set down in front of her and she looks up, red dissipating. You smile reassuringly.
“It looks like you could use some pie”
“I--”
“Don’t worry, I signed an NDA. I can’t talk about anything I see or hear” you wink, going back behind the bar.
Even Earth’s mightiest heroes need someone to make decent coffee.
The Compound’s cafeteria is practically deserted, but Wanda still hesitates to pick up her plate and sit closer to you on a stool.
“Hi” you greet again, and this time she smiles.
“Thank you for the pie”
“Of course. Everything ok?”
Wanda shrugs her shoulders.
“I just don’t know what to do with all of this… is it power? Is it magic? I can’t understand it. And no one else knows either”
“Not knowing can be scary,” you agree, leaning down against the counter.
“I don’t like it”
“Not knowing, or magic? Because I was really hoping I could cheer you up with a magic trick”
“Rabbit in a hat?” you show her a coin and she nods. “I’m all eyes”
“Now you see it…” you say, closing your fist with the coin in your hand. Next time you open it, it’s gone. “Where do you think it is?”
“Let’s see…” she inspects you, and you try not to squirm under her stare. “Here” she takes your left hand and opens it, only to find it empty.
“Strike one” you say, trying not to blush when she’s still holding your hand. Wanda looks under her plate. “Strike two… and three” you say when she checks her hoodie’s pockets. “And now, the big reveal”.
You lean forward, placing a strand of hair behind her ear. Your fingertips trace her skin and Wanda giggles, until you show her the coin.
“I’m impressed”
“No, you’re not, you knew where it was the whole time”
“I did” she laughs, which makes you laugh as well.
--
Wanda becomes a regular, at least on the days you’re working. Apart from the Avengers, there’s always new recruits from SHIELD, Maria or Director Fury stopping by. The one constant is Pietro, always coming at the end of the day to eat anything that’s left over. You don’t understand how he can be in shape when he eats like that.
So, when you’re not making coffee, you’re either studying while Wanda reads or you’re playing chess, something she enjoys greatly.
“Are you even trying?” she says at the third time she beats you.
“Excuse me, Beth Harmon”
“Who?”
“You’ve never read The Queen’s Gambit?”
“No. What?” she says when you keep staring.
“What’s your favorite movie?” you lean forward.
“I don’t have one”
“Not even a rom com? Chick flick?”
“You’re making up words now” Wanda rolls her eyes and pulls away, but you keep her in place, your hand on hers.
“No, no. Just putting two and two together”
“Hope it’s not about the Avengers. You signed an NDA, Y/N” Natasha warns, coming out of literally nowhere.
“Yes, Agent Romanoff. Your usual?”
The woman nods and you begin to make her caramel macchiato. Who knew the spy had a sweet tooth.
You hand it over in a dark cup, because she still has a reputation to keep.
“Say, would you like to attend movie night?” you ask Wanda, aware that Natasha’s still listening as she adds even more sugar to the beverage.
“What’s that?”
“My friends and I do it once a week. Watch some classics, get popcorn and pizza”
“I’m not sure that Steve…”
“That is a great idea!” Natasha interrupts, her arm around Wanda. “You should go out more. Make friends”
“Really?” Wanda looks at you and smiles. “Ok, sounds good”
“Awesome, I’ll text you the address. Oh, Agent Romanoff?” you call as the woman walks away, smirking. “I saved you the last cupcake”
“Put it on Tony’s tab” she says, winking at both of you.
--
There’s a knock at the door and you open it, your friend Laura smiling while she holds two boxes of pizza.
“Pizza’s here” you announce, moving aside and taking the boxes.
“Bitch, you’re supposed to say Laura’s here. And sound ecstatic about it”
“Oh, look, April’s here!” you ignore Laura, practically cheering as your other friend walks through the door.
“I hate you so much” Laura mumbles and you poke your tongue out.
“Just kidding, Laurie”
“Yeah, yeah”
“Who’s on their period?” April questions, eyeing the insane amount of snacks on the kitchen counter. “I don’t have this on my calendar”
“You track all of our periods?” Laura says.
“Of course I do, it’s how I know when to forgive you for being bitches”
“No one’s on their period” your roommate and friend, Kate, finally walks to the living room, with a stupid smile. “Y/N invited her crush to movie night”
April and Laura screech so loud, you’re afraid your neighbors will call the cops.
They begin to throw all kinds of questions at you (who is she, what does she do, where did you meet).
“Everyone shut it. Number one, she is not my crush. Number two, I bought all this candy because I don’t know what she wants and I am being nice. And, last, if you are weird about this, I will never speak to you again. Understood?”
“Oh my God, you’re wearing makeup” April shouts.
“You’re so gay for her,” Laura squeals.
There’s another knock at the door and the four of you turn to look, frozen in your spots.
“Go open it, you useless lesbian” Kate pushes you and you glare at her, before pulling it open.
Wanda meets your eyes and smiles, leaving you breathless. She’s out of her usual hoodies and dark clothes, wearing a flannel shirt and a pair of skin tight jeans.
“Hi” you greet, leaning against the door.
“Hey” you stare and then she clears her throat. “Are you ever inviting me in or…?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry. Please come in” you move aside and as Wanda enters, you glare at your friends, who are giggling at your awkwardness. “Wanda, these are Laura, April and Kate”
“Nice to meet you” Wanda waves at them and Laura’s the first to step forward.
“Come here, I’ll give you the tour of the snack bar”
“What are you two plotting?” you say to Kate and April when you catch them whispering.
“Nothing” they both answer too fast for your liking.
Once Wanda is settled with a slice of pizza, you bring the snacks to the coffee table in front of the television.
April, Laura and Kate are quick to take over the couch.
“You guys can take the loveseat” Kate says, emphasizing the love part.
“I like to sit on the floor” Wanda says, taking some cushions to rest against them.
“Me too!” April says and you roll your eyes.
“Then why are you on the couch?”
“Because, Y/N, my butt hurts. Thank you for your concern”
“Come here, I promise it’s comfortable” Wanda smiles, pulling you down. You end up leaning against her as she puts some pillows behind you. “See?”
“Yeah, that’s uh… nice” you smile, aware of how close you are.
“So, what are we watching?” Kate scrolls and you’re the first to speak.
“I think Wanda would really like The Princess Diaries. What do you guys think?”
“Oh, yeah, we haven’t seen that in forever. And none of us are menstruating so we won’t cry during Mia’s speech” April says, chewing on popcorn. “You’re not on your period either, right, Wanda?”
“Ok, first of all” you turn around and throw an M&M at her. “Spoiler alert. Second of all, stop asking about whose vagina is bleeding and eat your damn pizza”
“Fine, but don’t ask for a tampon when you need it cause I won’t help you”
“I’ll survive, period fairy” you mumble and Wanda chuckles.
The movie begins and you relax, feeling Wanda’s warmth next to you. During some of your favorite scenes, you can’t help but turn to look at her, because you wanna know if she’s actually enjoying the movie. Her laughter makes your heart flutter and when she frowns at some of the sad parts, you have to stop yourself from hugging her.
Halfway through the movie, Wanda opens a can of soda that practically explodes all over her shirt.
“Shit” you say, pulling the can away from her. “Come here, I’ll give you another shirt”
“Sorry” Wanda apologizes to no one in particular and Kate eases her nerves.
“We’ll wait for you to keep watching”
“Come on” you take Wanda’s hand and lead her to your room. She looks around to the walls covered in pictures, the books scattered around and some of the posters from your favorite films.
“Sorry about the mess” you apologize. “Here, this should work” you hand over a t-shirt. “I’ll wait in the living room, ok?”
“Ok, thank you”
Wanda only takes two minutes but it feels like an eternity, your friends glancing and giggling as you blush.
“Shut up” you lay on the floor, looking at the ceiling, but you sit up when your bedroom door opens.
Your face only turns redder as you see Wanda wearing your clothes.
“All done” she smiles and you begin to scoot over to make some room for her on the floor. “Stay” she asks, sitting against the couch and letting you rest your head on her lap.
The movie continues, only this time you’re closer to Wanda. The downside is you can’t see her reaction to the movie. At some point, her hands travel to your hair, running her fingers through it and you relax. It’s a miracle that you’re not snoring by the time the credits roll.
“What did you think?” you say, staying in place while your friends go to the kitchen and the bathroom.
“I really liked it”
“Yeah? It’s one of my favorite movies”
“You have great taste,” she smiles.
“I do, don’t I?” you agree and Wanda laughs.
“Hey, lovebirds, what should we watch next?” Kate says as they all come back and you can see Wanda blushing.
“Wanda, what other things do you like?” Laura asks
“I… uh, watch a lot of sitcoms. Old stuff, honestly”
“Hey, why don’t we watch that Bewitched movie?” April says and you all nod.
But an hour later, your friends are fast asleep and Wanda seems to be more invested in drawing patterns against your skin than watching the movie.
“Not as good as the first one, huh?” you whisper.
“It’s just that Bewitched is a classic and I don’t think this does it justice”
“I’ve never seen it” you admit and Wanda looks shocked.
“I love Lucy?” you shake your head no. “The Dick Van Dyke Show”
“Nope”
“You’re missing out”
“Well, tell me what to watch and I will”
“Maybe next time we can have movie night at my place?” she offers.
“Like a sleepover with Captain America and Iron Man?” you suggest and she laughs.
“No, it can be just the two of us. And maybe Pietro for a while. He’s too clingy”
“Awww. He’s just a good brother, Wands”
“Speaking of which,” she says, looking at her phone. “He’s here to pick me up”
“So soon?” you look at your phone, realizing it’s half past 12. “Oh, it’s actually late”
There’s a knock at the door and you both stand up.
“Want help cleaning up?” Wanda offers but you take her hand.
“That’s ok. They’ll sleep here and we’ll clean tomorrow”
“No, we won’t” Laura mumbles, stretching. “I’m gonna take your bed, Y/N”
“Awesome” you roll your eyes, knowing you’ll end up sleeping on the couch while Kate and April share her bed.
You open the door and Pietro shouts.
“Seestra!”
“Shhh, Pietro”
It’s too late, your friends are all up and eyeing him.
“What’s cooking, good looking?” April wiggles her eyebrows.
“This is Wanda’s twin brother, Pietro. Don’t harass the poor guy” you plead but he seems to be enjoying himself.
“What? Can’t I come over for next movie night?” he says with that charming accent.
“You sure can,” Laura says, standing behind you.
“Escape before they fight over you” you plead. Wanda laughs and squeezes your hand before letting go.
“I’ll see you on Monday?”
“Yes” you smile, leaning against the door.
“Bye, girls” Wanda waves at your friends.
“Bye, Wanda” they say in unison.
You close the door and lean against it, sighing. Three pairs of eyes are looking directly at you.
“What?” you snap.
“Your kids are gonna be sooooo cute!”
--
When Monday comes and you don’t see Wanda, you really think nothing of it. She’s probably busy because she has a life and of course, even if you don’t talk about it, you know she’s training to become an Avenger.
You're hesitant to ask Natasha, because she scares the shit out of you, but Pietro doesn’t show his face either and Wanda’s phone is off.
Against all of your survival instincts, you approach the subject when the Russian comes over for her fix of coffee and sweets.
“She’s… training”
“I just want to make sure she’s safe”
“Steve is with them. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her”
“Ok. Thank you for letting me know”
Natasha is about to leave but she goes back to the bar, staring.
“Our lives are… complicated. We’re away for too long. Work calls and ruins plans. It’s hard for us. But also, for the people we love”
“I…”
“I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into. She’s been through enough”
“I’d never hurt her” you say and she deems it enough, nodding and walking away.
--
Miss you, Wands.
Wanda stares at the text, unsure on what to answer. She missed you too, she truly did. For gay’s sake, she’s wearing the t-shirt you let her borrow as she prepares for bed.
Steve, Pietro, Sam and her had gone on to a simple mission that quickly turned into a battle.
She was barely able to prevent a bomb from hurting civilians. So much could have gone wrong and Wanda questioned if it was a good idea to drag you into her dangerous world.
Before she can keep on ruminating, she hears a pebble hit her window. Then another one.
Curious, the girl stands up from her bed to open it and looks down, where you’re smiling at her.
“Hi” you say, happy to see she’s back.
“What are you doing here?” she asks with a soft laugh. If she had her doubts, now that she’s seeing you, Wanda’s pretty certain she won’t be able to stay away from you.
“Come down and find out” you whisper, afraid any of the spies living in the Compound will arrest you for trespassing.
“Ok, let me just…” she begins to close the window to go down the stairs.
“No, not like that. Didn’t you tell me you could fly or something?”
“I’m still working on that”
“Half the fun of sneaking out is going out the window. I’ll catch you” you promise. Wanda rolls her eyes and then breathes, trying to focus. You watch in awe as red begins to pour out of her delicate fingers, and she levitates out the window, descending towards you. “God, that’s actually really hot” you mumble, thinking she can’t hear you, but she does. Your words make her lose her focus.
Wanda widens her eyes as she realizes she’s about to fall face first but you run and make sure she lands on top of you.
“I promised I’d catch you” you laugh, your back on the ground. Her gaze softens as you place a strand of hair behind her ear, eyes quickly moving down to your lips.
You both lean forward, but a buzz in your pocket breaks the spell.
“Sorry” you stand up. Your friends are texting you. “Come on, let’s go”
“Where are we going?”
“To a party. Do you feel like it?”
“You’ll stay with me?” she asks and you nod.
“Of course”
“Then let’s go”
Across the parking lot, your friends are waiting in Laura’s car.
“Hit it, Laurie” you open the door for Wanda and slide next to her on the back seat.
“So, what is this party?” Wanda asks as April and Laura are arguing over where to park.
“Sorority thing, girls night”
“You’re in a sorority?”
“No, we just like to go to their parties” Laura winks at her.
“Are we meeting Kate there?” you say, enjoying how Wanda stays close to you.
“No, she said she had a date”
“Looks like she had the guts to ask her crush out, unlike other people”
“Shut it, April” you mumble.
“I’ll let that one slide because your period is in three days”
“Can we please get to the party already?” you say, covering your face with your hands. Wanda laughs next to you.
“This can count as a date, if you want” she says in a whisper, her lips grazing your ear.
“I…” your brain melts, but you’re at the party already and she’s quick to leave the car, smiling mischievously.
It’s exactly what she expected; loud music, girls dancing and red plastic cups with alcohol passing around. Laura and April go to greet some of your friends, while another spots and offers you two cups.
“Do you drink?” you ask Wanda and she shakes her head no.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea”
“Gotcha” you empty her cup on yours and then take her hand, sipping the beer. “Let’s find something for you, then”
The kitchen is equally crowded, but you manage to open the fridge and find some orange soda for Wanda.
“If it’s too much we can leave. Just say the word” you promise as she shakes her head to the beat of the music.
Truth is, she’s flush against you because people keep moving around you. Wanda keeps looking at your lips and you might be a bit out of it from the beer and the noise.
For the second time, you both lean forward and you’re once again interrupted.
“Y/N! What a surprise to see you here” Anna, a girl from your Sociology class shoves Wanda aside and presses her body against yours in an intense hug.
“Annie, hey…” you say nervously, afraid Wanda will send her flying across the room.
“Who’s your friend?”
“Wanda Maximoff” the girl introduces herself, going back to her place next to you.
“Nice to meet you, Wendy”
“It’s Wa…” you correct her but Anna interrupts you.
“Are you up for a game of beer pong? After all, I beat you last time” she winks. You remember perfectly, you were very drunk and couldn’t throw any balls the right way.
“I think we’ll just walk around or dance” you take Wanda’s hand but Anna insists.
“Let’s make a bet. If I win you go on a date with me” the girl looks at you, clearly not giving up.
“Go,” Wanda says suddenly. You turn to look at her, afraid she might be upset. Instead, she’s smiling. “Let her get it out of her system. And if you win, I promise I’ll make it worth it”
Wanda grabs you by the chin to make sure you’re paying attention to her words. You swear she’s hypnotized you with her intense stare.
“Ok”
Luckily, this time you’re not drunk and you manage to hold your ground. You’re 3 to 1, so you’ve only had to drink a cup of beer.
Anna throws a ball and you swear you see a red sparkle. The ball ends up on the floor instead.
“Are you…?” you turn to Wanda and she laughs.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Go on, win this thing so I can give you your prize”
The next ball you throw is a double bounce so Anna has to drink two cups. The last one standing is in a corner, the farthest from you.
Laura and April join your side, cheering for you. They’re not particularly fond of Anna and they may have a bet on whether or not Wanda and you are getting together tonight.
“Go, go, go, go” they chant as you prepare to throw the last ball. It feels like an eternity as it travels across the table…
“Yes!” you shout as it falls inside the cup. As you turn to look at Wanda she takes your face in her hands, her lips crashing against yours in a kiss.
“You owe me ten bucks, bitch” Laura shouts at April.
You don’t understand what their words mean, and you don’t care either. There’s nothing in the world but Wanda, her scent, her lips, her hands traveling down to your neck. You break apart, chest heaving and she smiles.
“Do you want to get out of here?” you say and she nods enthusiastically.
“Thought you’d never ask”
Laura throws her keys at you.
“Hurry up, lovebirds. We’ll get an Uber”
Wanda shrieks as you carry her bridal style out of the room, knocking cups and kicking people in your way.
--
It’s even messier once you make it to your apartment, throwing away the keys and closing the door with a kick. Wanda slips your jacket off your shoulders, hurriedly pulling you by the belt loop of your pants to your bedroom. Your lips remain connected, the kiss turning into something rough and desperate.
“Is that my shirt?” you ask when she throws away her own coat.
“Come and get it” is the reply you get.
You’re sure you’ll pass out with the way her voice sounds, sultry and low. There’s even a hint of the Sokovian accent that she tries so hard to hide.
Finally, you find the way to your bed, and you let her fall on it, while you remove your own shirt and she discards her clothes. By the time you’re done with closing the door and dimming the lights, Wanda is left in only her underwear.
“God, you’re so perfect” you mutter, crawling between her legs. She blushes, but allows you to get closer, holding your head between her hands. “Hi” you say when she keeps staring at you.
“Hi” Wanda bites her lip, drawing attention to her mouth. You follow the action and lean forward, this time kissing her gently. You leave a path of kisses down her neck, between her breasts and her navel when she shudders.
“Киса, you’re making me feel so good” she purrs and your brain turns to mush. You make a mental note to ask her what that word means.
“Wanda? Are you there?” someone screams at the apartment door.
“Oh, no!” the girl straightens her back at the same time you do. There’s a swirl of red magic around you and at the blink of an eye, you fly all the way to the living room.
“Fuck” you say as you land. Next thing you know, Captain America is breaking into your apartment, while Wanda steps into the living room semi naked. Everyone’s screaming while you stay on the floor.
“Steve, what are you doing here?” Wanda shrieks as she runs back to the room to put some clothes on.
“You were missing!”
“I wasn’t missing, I was with Y/N!”
They sound like a father and teenage daughter when they argue like that.
“You ok?” Natasha approaches, helping you up. You’re vaguely aware that you’re shirtless, the only thing covering your breasts a red lacy bra. The redhead whistles playfully. “Wanda’s got good taste”
“Nat, don’t flirt with my girlfriend!”
“Girlfriend?” you repeat with a smile.
“Hurry up, we’re leaving” Steve commands.
“Now hold on a second” you stand between him and your bedroom door. “The sneaking around was my idea and I know it was wrong. But Wanda deserves to have a life. Friends, fun… What’s good about saving the world if you can’t enjoy it?”
“Can you put on a shirt?” he mumbles, looking at the ceiling.
“No, I will not. You were breaking and entering, Captain”
“So were you, back at the Compound!” he snaps.
“Come on, Rogers. She’s got a point” Natasha says. “Let the girl live a little”
“Fine. We’ll pick her up in the morning”
“Or, I could drive her back after breakfast” you offer.
“And once you’re there, we will discuss some rules”
“Deal” you offer your hand but Steve keeps looking up.
“Let’s go find Pietro. The other Maximoff runaway” Natasha says, pulling Steve to the exit.
“What about Pietro?” Wanda finally steps out of the bedroom, handing you a t-shirt.
“Yeah, what about him? I’m right here” he walks in, Kate by his side.
“That’s your date?” you point at both of them.
“Oh my God, did you finally get laid?” Kate squeals when she sees you half naked and Pietro gags.
“I did not need to know that about my sister” he turns to Steve and puts a hand over his shoulder. “So, about stealing your motorcycle, you understand it was for a good cause, right?”
“Have fun” Natasha winks and you blush.
“Don’t worry, I’ll wear my noise canceling headphones” Kate promises, retreating back to her room. You’re left alone with Wanda, in the middle of the living room.
“That was something”
“Yeah”
“Come back to bed” she asks with a shy smile, taking your hand.
“Promise not to throw me across the room this time?”
“Yes, Киса”
“Hey, what does that mean?” you say as you walk back to the room.
Wanda turns around, eyeing you seductively.
“Be a good girl for me and I might just tell you”
I heard you like magic
I got a wand and a rabbit
So baby, let's get freaky, get kinky
Let's make this bed get squeaky
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The Visitor P2
Media The Queens Gambit
Character Benny Watts
Couple Benny Watts X Reader
Rating Sweet
Requested :
Hello hello!!! For the Benny watts stories do you think you can do one, that were Benny's wife and he invites Beth to stay with us until she goes to Paris and he told us about it and we were fine with it but Beth didn't know that we knew she was coming and she is jealous of us and trying to start things with us but we put her in her place and benny is turn on by us putting her in her place. Please and thank you ☺️
I hurried to the kitchen and started work on dinner for us as well as some more snacky bits while we all caught up and of course imagine Beth and Benny will want to be playing chess for a while. And as dinner worked I quickly grabbed a dress from the airer beside the dryer threw my cream dress onto the laundry and slipped on my tea length off shoulder white dress with monochrome flowers and vines, making sure to do it up tight and making sure my petticoats sat fluffy, making sure to reapply my lipstick. I Heard the door and went to set things down but I heard him heading down the stairs "I got it!" He says so I left dinner to simmer fixing my hair in the reflection of the pan on the drying rack, And I headed through to the living room. Benny stood having just brought her in, Beth stood in her six-inch red under sole heels, flesh-toned tights, a rather snug square neck drop waist black dress with raised piped white seams, her long red hair well curled allowed to hang to her shoulders, she smiled as she looked around the living room.
"Very nice, certainly an improvement." She says her head stopped as if she almost jumped when she saw me, her smile seeming to vanish from her lips "You're not alone." Her cheerful tone shifting
"Why would I be?" He asks her coming further into view and immediately I noticed a bright red kiss on his cheek which didn't take long to deduce where it came from
"Sorry, just didn't know you'd be here," she says "Elizabeth Harmon," she says offering her hand
"That's alright, Y/n Watts" I smiled shaking her hand
"Watts?" She asks with a glare in Benny's direction
"It's about time you met my wife" he smiled wrapping an arm around me and giving my cheek a kiss I smiled giving his lips a little kiss and cleaning off the lipstick stain
"Forgive me I've been busy with dinner" I said fixing my dress
"No, no it's... adorable" she says fixing her hair
"Do have a seat" I offered and she took a seat in Benny's chair so I sat on the sofa as Benny headed to the kitchen to fetch drinks
"A lot changed in a season"
"You could say that," he answered from the kitchen
"So go on give me an update on what's been happening?" She says as he arrived backhanding her a drink immediately I notice her fingers grace his as she took her glass but he said as usual utterly oblivious and he sat down beside me on the sofa
"Well, been doing the usual rounds and all" he shrugs
"I haven't seen you around much"
"Took a little time off"
"Guess you didn't want him away so much?" She asks me
"I told him he could go"
"No I wanted to be here with you, I've got all the time in the world for tournaments, why would I cut short our honeymoon?" He Cooes holding my hand "I wanted time off anyway"
"From what losing?" She asks
"You needed some time off, you were working too hard" I smiled stroking his hair immediately he shot me a look he knew something was up but couldn't quite figure it out yet
"What about all this then?" She asks
"Well, stopped off in a little hotel on the way back from California just to sleep for the night give my head a rest. Decided to pop down to the little cafe across from the hotel and there she was"
"We weren't meant to be closed but I couldn't just kick you out into the cold"
"You were very sweet to me,"
"We chatted, and we ate until the sun came up."
"I knew of never finding another girl like you in a million years, we traded numbers and I came back home but pretty much the first thing I did the second I got home was call you"
"Ended up talking a for a good few more hours"
"We talked every day for months, and it got to a point I couldn't wait any longer I drove all the way down there turned up in the middle of your shift, marched in and proposed with a cheap ring I bought from the pawn shop"
"You made me drop a whole pot of coffee on the floor, but I said yes. I mean how could you say no to that face."
"Got things square brought this place and for married at the courthouse just a month back" he explained "Still getting used to it" he chuckled fiddling with his wedding ring
"And still unpacking, this place was a steal but sort of a spur-of-the-moment sort of thing"
"What about the cafe? You quit I'm guessing?"
"It was my business I sold up and used the money for our down payment and the rest on the laundromat a few blocks down"
"Humm quiet the business girl" she says
"Been one all my life." I answered "It's always good having solid cash coming in, pretty soon I'll be taking the laundromat profits and investing in a little record store I have my eye on"
"The one on Harrington's street?" He asks
"That's the one"
"Awww I told you about that" he smiled giving my cheek a kiss "So what's been up with you Beth? Grandmastering I suppose?"
"Mostly been on tour for my new book, heading off to Paris for the invitational planning on going out with Cleo while I'm there" she explained "Mostly been taking care of the house, it's been nice having some time off to relax not easy being grandmaster and all"
"I imagine it takes a lot of your time." I snapped back "Not reliable though, chess money comes and goes I'd always be worried if we replied on just winning tournaments it's nice having concrete assets" I explained "and the profits are nice"
"Very nice, you paid off my car for me. I had a lot of parking tickets... way more than I thought I did, there was actually a warrant out to impound it. But it's really nice not worrying so badly about money"
"It's very nice to start a marriage with a clear financial slate." I smiled
"Well hopefully I should be getting my Moscow prize Money as usual" she snapped back
"Ohh do excuse me I need to check on dinners" I smiled getting up and heading to the kitchen everything was going well I heard them talking about chess for a solid few minutes but when I headed back I noticed she had moved forward to the edge of the chair moving her hand down the sofa arm until her hand met his he pushed her hand off absentmindedly as they spoke clearly assuming it was an accident but her hand quickly returned to his and even slyly pushed his wedding ring down his finger
I coughed which caused her to move away, and Benny nervously brought his hand to his chest fixing his ring
"I don't have many rules for guests in our house Beth. But I'd thank you very kindly to keep your hands to yourself" I told her
"Just playing y/n like old times" She smiled getting to her feet
"Be that as it may. I'm sure a very smart girl such as yourself can understand concepts and this one's pretty damn simple." I told her "Keep your hands off my husband"
"Understood" she nods "I'll take my things upstairs" she says sheepishly grabbing her things and heading upstairs
"First door on your left" I told her before I went to the kitchen as now dinner was ready so I began setting things up on the table and I felt Benny come and wrap his arms around me kissing my neck "Benny!" I complained elbowing him slightly
"Raooww" he playfully laughs "thought there was gonna be a catfight"
"I was making a point."
"You really sexy when your... commanding"
"Am I?"
"Ummm hummm" he smirked biting his lip a little "You should put your foot down more often, I like it"
"Well see"
"I'm sorry -"
"What for? Not your fault" I shrug
"I should have moved, or said something, or... not Invited her here"
"Benny," I laughed turning to face him leaning on the table as I wrapped my arms around his neck "It's fine, your not always the best at picking up on these things I learned that pretty quickly hence why I've always been really straight forward with you, you didn't pick up on it's it's fine not like you imagined she would, you did perfectly fine my love. She's your friend you invited her here it's not a problem if you want her here then she'll be welcome. But that doesn't stop me from kicking butt if I need to"
"Your sure?"
"Very sure"
"I love you so much"
"I love you too" I smiled pulling him into a kiss I heard heels on the stairs but we ignored her continuing our kiss till I pulled back "Go on then Mr watts set the table" I told him
"Yes, Mrs watts." He smirked back giving me another kiss "Another drink before dinner Beth? We can play some speed chess after"
"Sure" she nods still pretty sheepish
#thomasbrodiesangster#tbs imagine#tbs imagines#thomas sangster imagine#thomas brodie sangster imagine#tbs smut#thomas sangster#thomas brodie sangster#thomas brodie sangster smut#tbs#bennysmut#benny x reader#benny smut#benny fanfic#benny watts#tqg benny watts#benny watts imagine#benny watts smut#bennywattssmut
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The Queen’s Gambit
Yes, I know this show is old by 3 years.
I have heard about it, constantly, but overall, I’m just a person that’s stubborn to explore new media.
But, I can safely say that after binge watching this show one episode a week, I went through a beautiful emotional rollercoaster and couldn’t have been happier with the show’s ending.
I just love the entire plot. The design, the artistry, the way the show used chess as its own art form, to propel storytelling, all while using chess coaches and real-life game inspiration along the way.
Truth be told, I’m not a chess person, but The Queen’s Gambit has made me more interested.
Chess becomes the vehicle for exploring the complexity of the character. Beth Harmon, most notably. Her wins, her losses, the calculations running through her head as she plays, how she navigates her world... Since her entire world does rest inside those 64 squares.
Her relationships with Townes, Beltik and Benny all form from her love of chess, and break in one way or another. By the end, she realises that relationships can help, but friendships can last a lifetime. I personally think that her chemistry with Benny was the strongest, but that can be saved for another ramble, potentially.
The portrayal of addiction is very strong (thus I warn those who have struggled with addiction who may want to watch the show) yet poignant. It left me heartbroken for Beth, and frankly angry with her during Episode 6, but it was because of how invested I was that I revelled in joy with her final victory against Borgov.
The costuming, set design, and aesthetic were off the charts. Starting off like a pawn and ending as the White Queen, moving first and in control?! Agh, so, so beautiful, and again it reflects her journey powerfully.
And that’s all I can really say.
Thank you to The Queen’s Gambit for being so incredibly uplifting, emotional, cerebral and amazing <3
#ava rambles#the queen's gambit#tqg#beth harmon#benny watts#townes the queen's gambit#harry beltik the queen's gambit#alma wheatley#tw addiction
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I really hated the queen's gambit Netflix series and my problems with it are reflective of my problems with most popular stories. And the show would be less popular if it didn't have these problems because most people like bad stories. They love it when stories are bad. Stories being bad appeals to them. Disgusting.
This whole time her chess abilities were tied to these drugs. That was a huge conflict where she knew the drugs were making her personal life and mental health worse, but they were helping her win at chess. So when she decides to quit before the big world championship? She should have lost. That should have been her choice. "I choose not being addicted over winning every time." It absolutely disgusts me from a storytelling perspective that she gets to have both and it turns out to not be a difficult choice at all.
Beth Harmon's rise was loosely based on Bobby Fischer's rise in the chess world. And one of the main questions of the show was whether genius was tied to madness. Whether she would, like her genius mother, go insane and start hurting people and potentially kill herself. It's this constant worry and weight on her shoulders. But in the end it doesn't happen. It turns out that no actually she doesn't have to go insane at all, everything is fine. But that's not right. Bobby Fischer did go insane. Why would you ask the question, "Would somebody like Bobby Fischer go insane?" and not only pick the answer that doesn't match reality but also pick the answer that is less interesting?
Others besides me have noted that the people she faces are too quick to give up period appropriate misogyny and befriend her. I agree. There should be lots of people in the show who just hate her forever. Lots and lots of people.
And on a minor note, I heavily disliked the scene where her former school bully meets her in a store and the bully is now a tired housewife clearly jealous of Beth's glamorous lifestyle. What the fuck. It felt like the narrative was giving the bully some sort of cosmic punishment comeuppance scene. Truly despise when that happens.
It was overall a bad show. But that's why people like it. They *like* that she never had to face truly hard choices or sacrifices and that everybody liked her and that the meanies got their due. This is everything I loathe in fiction and it's everywhere.
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The Queen always wins: The Queen's Gambit (2020) and women empowerment
Arguably one of the best miniseries Netflix has ever produced with insanely high ratings on both IMDB and Rotten Tomatoes, The Queen’s Gambit directed by the director Scott Frank soonly became trending after making its debut in 2020. The miniseries was based on the novel with the same name written in 1983 by Walter Tevis. It follows the story of the genius girl, Beth Harmon (played by the wildly talented Anya Taylor-Joy), who rises from playing chess in the basement with a janitor to become the world champion chess player. She becomes the U.S’ pride after defeating the Soviets in the game - an intellectual sport they are famed for, during the Cold War era. Walter Tevis actually wrote Elizabeth Harmon based on his own passionate experiences in playing chess but with a female character. The writer wants to honor women’s intelligence at the time in the U.S and also promotes an advocative message about feminism and women’s empowerment.
Beth Harmon is a very good example of a woman competing in a man's world; she becomes a feminist icon with her success in chess and her story. Beth has all the qualities of a strong woman: she’s independent, self reliant, smart and decisive. When she moves to her new home with her new parents, we can see that Beth takes care of her new mother very well since her new mother gets sick frequently. She’s also very proactive and usually makes decisions by herself, like how she wants to compete at the Kentucky State’s tournament and asks Mr. Shaibel to finance her when her mother turns her down. Taking Russian class is also her decision to compete with Soviet’s player in the future. Beth makes lots of money playing chess and after her new father has left, she becomes the breadwinner of the family and takes care of her mother and also pays her mother fifteen percent of her income to act as her representative. Besides being decisive and proactive, Beth is also a hard-worker: she’s very committed to chess and practices chess all the time. Every time she loses, she still has the ability to bounce back and thus making her a very resilient woman. Her most painful loss is against Vasily Borgov (played by Marcin Dorociński, a Soviet champion title holder) in Paris. It’s her second time losing to Borgov and it definitely hits her hard, which makes Beth plummet into alcohol and smoking addiction until her best friend from Methuen, Jolene, comes over. In the end, she is still able to defeat Borgov and becomes the new face for women in the U.S and Soviet at the time.
Throughout the beginning of Beth’s chess career, she is treated with contempt and underestimated because of her gender and youth. For example, when she starts living with her new mother, her mother suggests she do some activities that are more feminine and suitable for her, not chess. Second time she is treated with contempt and underestimation is when she plays against Harry Beltik (played by the beloved Harry Melling) in the final. Harry comes to the game late and keeps yawning, distracting Beth but at the end she wins the match and the victory leaves a sour taste in Harry’s mouth. Beth’s technique also really reflects her personality: she usually plays with the Sicilian opening, a style through which the player attacks his/her opponent rapidly and thus secures victory almost instantly. Such a technique can be demonstrative of a woman's strength in the series.
One thing I like about the movie is that it doesn’t nerf the men to make the women shine, the men in the movie appear very elegant and polite. They respect Beth as a representative of their country competing against the Soviets and help her throughout the series. They compliment and admire Beth even right after they defeat them. But this can be a mistake from the producers because it is not very realistic. At that point of time, is that how men really react to a woman that beats them in a sport that they are supposed to be better at?
Overall, this miniseries is still a very worth watching series for its cinematography, music as they are all perfect to support the story and the message that Scott Frank and Walter Tevis want to deliver. The cast’s acting in this series is also on point, shout out to Anya Taylor-Joy for her great performance and I believe this is Anya’s best on screen performance yet, can’t imagine anyone else playing Elizabeth Harmon better than Anya Taylor-Joy.
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Welcome to 1925 – Claudia & Elizabeth Harmon !! I hope you feel right at home here in Sydney. Before you get too comfortable and see what all our city has to offer, be sure to review our CHECKLIST. We’re so glad to have you with us, Bloom !!
Look who just woke up- is that MARIS RACAL? No, I must have been mistaken, that’s CLAUDIA from THE VAMPIRE CHRONICLES / INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE. I heard she is 21 (SIXTY-FIVE) and stuck here just like everyone else. Even in the 20’s, they still give off a TRAIL OF CHRYSANTHEMUM PETALS LINING A DARK PATH, GENTLE PERSUASION, THE DECEITFUL DELICATENESS OF A HAUNTED DOLL impression. They’re known to be quite DEVOTED, but have a tendency to be RECKLESS on their bad days. (bloom, 24, she/her, gmt-3)
Look who just woke up- is that ANYA TAYLOR-JOY? No, I must have been mistaken, that’s ELIZABETH ‘BETH’ HARMON from THE QUEEN’S GAMBIT. I heard she is 24 and stuck here just like everyone else. Even in the 20’s, they still give off a A STARING CONTEST AGAINST YOUR OWN REFLECTION, THE THIN LINE BETWEEN GENIUS AND MADNESS, DANCING IN THE DARK BY YOURSELF impression. They’re known to be quite BRILLIANT, but have a tendency to be SELF-SABOTAGING on their bad days. (bloom, 24, she/her, gmt-3)
#interview with the vampire rp#vampire chronicles rp#queen's gambit rp#netflix rp#multifandom rp#thebridge: accepted
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General Tag Drop Beth Harmon Blog Stuff
#Reflection: Beth Harmon#Thread: Beth Harmon#Inbox: Beth Harmon#Save/Crack: Beth Harmon#Starter/Plotting Call: Beth Harmon#General: Beth Harmon#Aesthetic: Beth Harmon#About/Musings: Beth Harmon#Headcanon: Beth Harmon
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Beth Harmon Tag drop
#Reflection: Beth Harmon#Friends: Beth Harmon#Opponents: Vasily Borgov#Opponent: Cooke#Aesthetic: Beth Harmon#Headcanon: Beth Harmon#Inbox: Beth Harmon#Save: Beth Harmon#Family: Beth Harmon#Starter Call: Beth Harmon
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Me after watching The Queen’s Gambit:
#the queens gambit#i loved it so much#she’s so chaotic#so cool#I’m in love with her#but i also I find that it resonates with me#i see myself reflected in her#like her life is so fricked up#but then she kinda gets it together#with the help of the people that love and support her#wholesome huh#Beth Harmon
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Benny Watts/The Queens Gambit imagines - From Pawn to Pen Part 3
AN: Okay so I know things are going a little slow paced at the moment but I promise things will start to pick up over the next few chapters.
Overall Summary: You’re a young journalist for Chess Review, with a love for chess and a desire for knowledge. One day at a tournament, you come across the famous Benny Watts...
In this chapter: It’s the last day of the tournament and Benny feels bad about what happened the previous night
(PART 1) (PART 2)
Pairing(s): Benny Watts x Fem!reader
Word Count: 3,493
Warnings: Some unwanted touching here at the beginning in italics, some drinking, none really
A hand glided up from your knee along your thigh. The fingers felt rough against your skin and your stomach twisted into a knot as the touch went further up your leg. You tried to move your leg away but his fingers dug into your skin keeping you there.
“Don’t play hard to get now...”
You gasped loudly as you shot up from your pillow. The cold air hit your lungs like a flood as you struggled to catch your breath.
It was 5am.
You were covered in sweat.
You stared into the darkness ahead of you, eyes wide open with any feeling of tiredness gone.
Your hands shook as you reached for the light switch, turning it on before jumping out of your bed to open the curtains.
The sun was barely rising outside.
Your nightie clung to you awkwardly due to the sweat so you headed into the bathroom, stripping of it.
You didn’t look in the mirror as you turned on the shower. You hated the way you looked after the dreams. You always looked like a ghost.
Not that you had had the dreams for a while now.
You took your time in the shower, you had brought your portable radio into the bathroom so you weren’t left alone with your own thoughts.
You hummed quietly to the songs that played on the early morning station; you closed your eyes and tried to picture that you were showering in your old apartment in France with Angelie making morning coffee and croissants in the kitchen.
It brought you some sense of calm.
When you finished in the bathroom, the sun was rising. You took a moment to admire the colours in the sky before sitting down at your dresser to apply some make up and dry your hair.
As your eyes found your reflection, you sighed. You reached across for one of your powders and a brush before turning the music up to stop thinking about the day ahead.
It was early enough for you to be one of the first in the restaurant for breakfast and so you found yourself nibbling on bagel with some coffee in your other hand.
It was the last day of the tournament.
Benny Watts vs Victor Miesser.
Once you grew tired of picking at the bagel you went ahead to the games room where only one table was set up ready for the final match in the afternoon.
You looked down at the board, picking up the white queen which you knew would be Benny’s later.
“Don’t be tampering with my chess pieces because I pissed you off last night.”
“Little early for you, Mr Watts?” You didn’t even need to turn to know who had come in.
“Couldn’t sleep.” He admitted, walking up beside you to look down at the board himself. “Found myself thinking what an ass move it was to just burst into somebody’s hotel room and start rummaging through their private belongings.”
“Oh really?” You raised your eyebrows, smiling a little at his attempted apology.
“Really.” Benny nodded, “So, I figured I’d find the girl I so rudely vexed and apologise.” Benny sent you a side glance which you returned.
“Apology accepted on the conditions that he doesn’t do it again and agrees to a photograph for the magazine.” You felt as if you should apologise too for the way you handled it the previous night but you fought against it, he was the one in the wrong after all.
“Conditions accepted.” Benny held out his hand and you waited a second, smiling, before you took it.
“Perfect.” You dug into your bag and pulled out your camera. “If you could sit down? Now would be the perfect time for a photograph since no one is around to distract you.”
“Distract me? What’s that supposed to mean?” Benny furrowed his eyebrows at you, chuckling as he sat himself down.
You rolled your eyes at the man and decided not to answer as you checked the lighting for the photo.
“I’m sure you’ve done plenty of shoots before so if you could just relax the shoulders a little and look at the camera as you sit beside the board.” You directed him as he shifted in his seat.
“Like this?” Benny asked with a smirk as he rested his elbow on the table beside the board.
You took the photo.
“Now look down at the board like you’re focusing on a hard game.” You tried to ignore his playful tone as you photographed him.
Benny switched to link his fingers below his chin and stare down at the board.
“Great.” You stepped forward and lifted the brim of his hat slightly your with finger. Benny’s eyes looked up as you did. “Sorry.” You muttered before stepping away again.
“One more if you don’t mind.” You asked as you picked up the queen.
“If you just prop your feet up on the corner of the table and lean back into your chair.” You gestured to the table and Benny did as he was told. “Now, hold this and look at it like this.”
You held the chess piece with your thumb and index finger above your head so it was tilted. Benny seemed to smirk again as he took the piece from you to copy the pose.
You snapped a few more shots before allowing him to relax.
“Thank you. It’s more likely I’ll get the first few pages if I have a decent photo to go with the piece.” You explained, tucking the camera away.
“And here I thought I’d make the cover.” Benny stood up from his seat, straightening his jacket.
“I can’t make any promises I’m afraid. This’ll be the biggest piece the magazine has allowed me to write yet.” You confessed, pulling out your notepad and pen.
“You're telling me you left Paris of all places to write pity pieces and small town coverage for Chess Review?” Benny raised his eyebrows at you, seemingly surprised at your decision.
“I’ll work my way up eventually. I always do.” You shrugged your shoulders, paying no mind to his judgement.
“I don’t doubt it.” Benny replied.
“I saw you in Paris last year, you know.” You tried changing the topic onto him so you could try and get some more questions in for the interview.
“Really?” Benny asked,
“I mean I wasn’t paying too much attention to you since I was writing a headline piece on Borgov but I saw you. No one can stick out like sore thumb in aa chess tournament quite like Benny Watts.” You admitted.
“I’ll try and take that as a compliment.” Benny laughed lightly as he fiddled with the top of the chair he was leaning on.
“Well you are constantly praised for you twist on the ‘regular’ chess player with your style and your hair and your knife...” You couldn’t help but point to the holster on his hip.
“What’s wrong with that?” He asked, looking down at his knife then back up at you.
“Nothing.” You shook your head. “I was wondering Mr Watts since I have you here now, we could finish off that interview?”
You watched Benny check his watch before taking a minute to decide.
“Alright but only if we go someplace else. It’s too stuffy in here.” Benny agreed, pushing off the back of the chair and walking towards the exit.
“Outside?” You suggested.
You both walked side by side outside the hotel then down into some gardens where you found an old small concrete bench to perch on.
“Shall we continue from where we started?” You asked, getting your prepared questions out. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
“Mr Watts, you recently stated you were here because of Beth Harmon. When was it she first caught your eye as a potential competitor?” You asked,
“I guess it was just like everyone else. Once it got out that she defeated Beltik at such a young age and at her very first tournament, I think she grabbed everyone’s eye in the chess world.” He admitted, looking out across the green as he spoke.
“Do you believe she could beat you for your US title?”
“I think we’ll have to see how it plays out when I finally get to play her.” Benny seemingly almost found the question amusing.
“Where are you playing next? Do you know?” You crossed off questions you’d already asked before as you spoke.
“I try not to play too many opens nowadays but I like the practise. The US open will roll around again soon which I’ll be heading too. I tend to go to events where I’ve been invited or I feel like attending. It’s not necessarily planned.” Benny held out his arm, pushing straight line with hand to signal him looking into the future.
“And what about Europe?”
“I like playing in Europe. I get invited from time to time but the jet lag really gets me sometimes.” Benny started, “Off the record, how come I haven’t seen you in Paris before if you’d seen me?”
The question took you back for a moment as the flow was now interrupted.
“There’s a lot of reporters in Paris, Mr Watts. It’s no surprise to me that you didn’t notice me.”
“It is to me.” Benny towards you, leaning on his hand with his finger on his chin.
“A girl can be easily hidden in a crowd full of men, Mr Watts.” You felt your heart start to race as Benny stared at you.
“Anyway, back to the questions...” You tried to shake it off. “Is there anyone in your life at the moment, Mr Watts? Someone else you like to play chess with?” You almost cringed at the question but you knew the female readers would eat it up.
“Are you asking for you or for the magazine?” Benny smirked.
You sent him a look which only made him laugh.
“No, there’s no one at the moment. Only a few of the guys in New York who like to play speed chess with me just to lose their money.” Benny’s joke made you roll your eyes but he could tell it was lighthearted.
“And final question, Mr Watts, how does it feel being the undefeated champion in the United States?”
“It feels great. But I’m looking forward to some new competition. You can only play Victor Miesser so many times.” Benny took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. His blond locks moved with his fingers and a small strand fell back down to his eye.
“Be careful what you wish for, Watts.” You let it slip out as you watched the man.
Benny started to laugh again.
“I didn’t–––” You went to apologise when he cut you short.
“––It’s true. One day someone will probably beat me.”
You closed your notepad and tucked your pen away as you nodded your head, not knowing how else to respond.
“What are you doing after the tournament?” Benny asked you.
“I’ll probably stay here in the hotel for a couple of days, get the final draft written then typed up then sent off to the magazine along with the photos. By then they should have another spot for me to travel to and if not then I’ll return to my flat in Massachusetts. My recent tenant just moved out so I actually could stay there for once.” You explained, hooking the hair out of your face as the wind picked up.
“Massachusetts?” Benny cocked his eyebrow.
“Yeah. I bought the flat just before I decided to leave the US, rented it out during the years I was in Paris. I had someone new living there for the past 5 months but they recently moved out. I’m never usually there so...”
“Why Massachusetts though?” Benny folded his arms over his chest and crossed his ankles as he leant back.
“My Mom grew up in Greenfield, Massachusetts. She always loved the countryside, the forests when it was fall were her favourite anywhere we went really. I live in Boston though, Greenfield was a bit too small town for me.” You explained, smiling as a memory resurfaced of your mother diving into a pile of yellow, auburn and brown leaves.
“You know Boston isn’t that far from New York. If you change your mind about that chess game, I don’t hate the idea of company?” Benny suggested, his eyes searching your face for an answer.
“I don’t think so, Benny.” You rose from the bench and smiled down at the man.
Benny smirked at the use of his name instead of ‘Mr Watts’.
“Good luck for this afternoon. Perhaps I’ll see you at another tournament soon.” You dismissed yourself before Benny could try and persuade you to come to New York with him.
You spent the rest of the morning sorting your notes together and clearing up your hotel room before the afternoon game went ahead.
You had taken your film to be developed whilst you were watching the game so it’d be ready in the evening.
You watched Benny dominate Miesser in less than 20 moves and then you watched Miesser strut off in a strop. Another loss to the Benny Watts.
You were amused by the fact that Benny didn’t even seem to break a sweat or show a single crease in his forehead. He really did find it all too easy, didn’t he?
You applauded with the rest of the onlookers before disappearing to take your notes on the game upstairs to write it up again in short form so the readers could see the game through the piece.
You went ahead to pick up the prints before dinner and you were impressed with your own photography skills.
Benny was extremely photogenic there was no lie in that and you couldn’t help but admire the photographs due to your own skill and his attractiveness.
You put the photos up in your room along with the pages you had before heading for some food.
You were famished and you knew the restaurant would be quieter due to the tournament ending that day.
“Miss (Y/L/N)?” One of the hosts approached you as you neared the restaurant entrance.
“Yes?” You replied.
“Mr Benny Watts has requested you join him for dinner.” He guided his hand towards one of the back tables where Benny was sat alone for once.
You were hesitant to join him but once he had spotted you there was no turning back.
“Mr Watts?” You greeted him, still confused by his invitation.
“(Y/n).” He stood when you approached the table which was something you hadn’t expected him to do. “I felt like my apology earlier wasn’t exactly a great one so I figured dinner would be a good alternative.”
“You really didn’t have to...” You started, sitting down opposite him.
“How’s the article coming along?” He ignored your objections as he too sat back down.
“Fine.” You stated.
“Just fine?” Benny smirked, looking up at you from the menu in front of him.
“Yes.” You said as you picked up your own.
There was a silence.
“How old were you when you first played Chess?” Benny asked out of the blue.
“Five.” You told him. “I wouldn’t say I was any good. My father taught me but I know I first picked up the pieces when I was five.”
“And how old were you when you decided you weren’t good enough?” Benny’s words felt like ice to your warm cheek.
“Seventeen.” You told him honestly.
“Seventeen.” Benny repeated what you had said. “Seventeen is awfully young to be deciding you weren’t good enough.”
“I had been playing years by then–––”
“––It sounds like you gave up to early.” Benny folded his hands together as he placed his elbows on the table.
“Are we going to discuss my playing chess all evening or shall I just eat elsewhere?” You were tired of the constant questions. This man didn’t know you. You didn’t need to explain yourself to him.
“Sorry.” Benny held his hands out almost in surrender. “So, Boston?”
“Or discuss me being close enough to visit New York to play chess with you.”
Benny chuckled quietly.
“What is it about me, Benny Watts?” You asked him honestly. Why was he so interested in your chess playing after one weekend of knowing each other?
“I don’t know.” Benny confessed, “Curiosity, I guess.”
“Well, Mr Watts...” You sipped on the cocktail just put in front of you, “...Curiosity killed the cat.”
“Maybe it’s the fact you’re one of the first girl reporters I’ve seen cover Chess before.”
“I am the only one employed at Chess Review.” You didn’t know why you told him that but you did. “Journalism is a more cut throat industry than you’d expect, Mr Watts.”
“I could say the same thing about Chess but being a reporter you already know that.” Benny leant back in his chair now, waving over a waiter so you could finally order some food.
“I know too well.” You chuckled weakly.
You both ordered some food and you let Benny talk about himself which he did with ease.
He mainly spoke about Chess openings, ones he favoured, ones he disliked, who he had read recently and what changes he had made to his play over the past couple tournaments.
You were thankful he didn’t try interrogating you again.
After you finished eating you left the restaurant together.
“Me and some others who are still here for the night are gonna have a few beers and play some speed chess, wanna join?” Benny asked, pointing behind him to the bar area.
You went to open your mouth when Benny stopped you.
“And before you say anything, no you don’t have to play, you can just watch.”
“Tempting.” You admitted.
“Then say yes?” Benny urged you, already taking a step backwards towards the bar.
“Are you always this pushy, Benny?” You couldn’t help but let a smile cross your lips.
“Uh, yep.” Benny bit down on lower lip, his hands on his hips as he answered.
“One drink.” You gave in, following the man into bar where a table of speed chess was already being played.
When Benny approached the table, one of the seats freed up for him and Benny offered you a seat beside the table so you could spectate.
You ordered yourself a drink and took it with you to the table so you could drink and watch.
You were immediately mesmerised by the speed the players could go and within mere minutes Benny had won his first round, taking five dollars off his opponent.
“You know, Benny, you might want to take it easy or people won’t actually want to play you anymore.” You told him with a smirk on your face that made him smile.
You stayed longer than you expected to. One drink turned into three or four and it was late by the time Benny ran out of opponents.
Benny walked with you to the elevator then up to the floor you were both on.
You were tired and the alcohol had given you a warm buzz. You leant against the wall of the elevator with your eyes closed and a sleep smile on your face.
“Come on, it’s our floor.” Benny held out his arm and you wrapped your hand around his bicep to help you out of the elevator.
He walked you up to your hotel room door and you found your key to go inside.
“Night Benny.” You murmured as you stepped into your room.
Benny leant in the door way, his hand gripping the pane above him as he watched you walk over to your bed.
“Goodnight Miss (Y/L/N).” And with that, he leant in to take the doorknob and closed the door.
When you woke up in the morning you weren’t in your nightie but your underwear. You must've just stripped last night because you were so tired.
You heard a knock on your door but you groaned and rolled over onto your stomach. Covering your head with your pillow.
There was another knock.
You waited a second, gaining the energy to stand.
You slid on your robe and trudged over to the door.
You opened it to see no one outside but down by your feet was a stack of three books with a note on top of them.
You picked them up and opened the folded bit of paper.
I’m going back to New York. Read these then call me. – B.W.
You looked through the books he had given you and the one right on the top was his own. You shook your head smiling down at the boy on the cover.
You peered forward, looking down the corridor to see no one but the housekeepers.
You stepped back inside and reread the note.
Call me – B.W.
(PART 4 HERE)
TAG LIST
@sumebreaks @rainbowpowaa @momsteeeve @timelesstay @carostar2020 @rose-moon-mist @alwaysbeanunknownfan @liatlyn @weirdowithnobeardo @supercalifragilisticprincess @blushingpogue @heartofeden @airwaveee @subaehun @gonnashinelikestars @soundbreaker-harms @gothicwidowsworld @leilanixx @gold-star-for-me @number-0-iz @goinggoinggonzo @iiwontgiveuponmilkk @screw-this-reality @tearvnclw @reecebib
#benny watts x reader#benny watts#benny watts imagines#the queens gambit#the queens gambit imagines#benny watts x femreader#Beth harmon#harry beltik#Thomas Brodie Sangster#Thomas Brodie sangster imagines#newt#the maze runner#Netflix#imagines#series#pawn to pen
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C, F and M for fanfic ask game!!! <3
hey lovee, thanks for asking 💜
C: What character do you identify with most?
Jo March, Hermione Granger, Rory Gilmore and all of my INTJ freaks (affectionate) (This is about Beth Harmon and Gregory House, yes. I don't like it, I don't, but here I am.🤷♀️)
F: Share a snippet from one of your favourite dialogue scenes you've written and explain why you're proud of it.
Okay, so I'm much better at narration and descriptions because I gravitate towards memory-land and character-study-territory, but I like my dialogue in this short story. I write conversations that would have been "worth it" for me if that makes sense? Like... I don't like to waste words irl so my characters usually don't talk and just sit in comfortable silence or they talk in their invented language because that works for me as a person. I'm just keen on discoveries, puzzle solving and mind exercise. Basically I'm better at understanding mindsets and analysing actions than actually living through them in writing.
M: Got any premises on the back burner that you'd care to share?
Serena is there too, like an art piece, like everything Blair observes and locks up and keeps in the museum of her twisted existence, distant and gloriously imperfect, the kind of imperfect that outshines perfection, the most beautiful of storms. She holds that image of her best friend, enveloped in a sunset, carefully sewed to her choreographed excuse of an organ, her terrible, unnecessary heart, and waits for the lights to go down. Blair never wanted to want. Not really. She never wanted the whole story. She only dreamed the epilogue.
So this has been in my drafts for a while and it was supposed to be this deep analysis of Blair/Dan/Serena and how all of them shine and reflect and mirror each other. I'm very into the idea of Blair viewing Dan and Serena as similar people, not due to their relationship with each other but for their connections to Blair and how she simultaneously loves and hates them for being there since she doesn't exactly know what to do with that. Idk it's all so tragically beautiful to me... the three of them seeing the other two as the centre of the universe, the protagonist, the sun and seeing themselves as... something not even remotely close to that? girl. HELP. I'll probably never finish this because it's A Lot, but I have it drafted as enveloped in a sunset series so who knows?
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the sound of a ghost (beth harmon)
The emptiness of the hotel lobby was somehow comforting. The only thing I heard was the soft click of my heels and my breathing. Maybe it was the fact my life had finally been silent since the competition in New Mexico City.
I laugh at my thoughts, silent? Yeah right, this is the loudest it’s fuckin’ been.
I breathed in the temporary silence anyway, and as soon as I exhaled, I heard it. The notes of a piano.
The sad, empty notes of a piano. Playing something I never thought I’d hear again.
Gymnopedie No. 1 composed by Eric Satie.
The last time I heard this piece was in my mother’s eclectic living room, a beer sitting on the music shelf of the piano. My mother’s eyes were glossed over, and she was looking out of the window longingly, but she played this piece with perfect precision and gracefulness. I’m sure she could do it in her sleep.
Perhaps she could do it in her grave.
I shook my head as soon as this thought came, following the piano notes floating through the air. They led me to a winding staircase, and I trailed my eyes to the balcony above. There I saw the edge of a glistening, black piano and the top of someone’s head.
They sound just like my mother.
With this thought in mind, I raced up the winding staircase. When I reached the top, the sound was at full volume; it was vibrating inside my head. My eyes trailed to the player.
She is the type of girl you see and never forget; the girl that makes heads turn; the girl they write love songs about, the girl they write heartbreak songs about.
Her eyes were closed and her frail hands traced across the keys like if she pressed too hard they might break, and yet the piano was as loud as ever.
Then suddenly, she spoke, awakening me from my hypnosis. “Your hair,” she says.
Her voice sounds like the white clouds on a sunny day, her voice sounds like the whispers through the pine trees.
I subconsciously reached up to touch my red locks.
Her eyes were open now, and they were all-knowing. I felt as if she might tell me my future, right then and there.
“Your hair reminds me of fire,” she had stopped playing and turned her body towards me, “and your eyes are the reflection of that fire.”
I blinked, my mouth slightly open. I heard my heartbeat in my ears.
She smiles and I almost melt into a puddle, a smile you see once and never again. A star smile, I swear I saw supernovas in-between her teeth.
“Don’t worry, ma bichette*, it’s a compliment.” She says her name.
A long-awaited smile spreads across my face. “Beth Harmon.”
I hold out my hand.
~~~
*my doe in french; not a cuss word hehe
#beth harmon#beth harmon x reader#queens gambit#fanfic#short story#beth harmon fanfic#the queens gambit#queens gambit imagine#queens gambit x reader#anyways im in love with beth so i wrote a cute drabble#mwah#writeblr
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THE QUEEN’S GAMBIT (2020)
This show’s protagonist may be obsessed with the monochromatic world of a chess set, but its production designers had no interest in using a subdued palette to reflect that. The sets are a saturated fusion of Mid Century Modern and Grandmillennial maximalism. The interiors are often deliberately exaggerated references to the shows themes, or to the location where the scene is set, as Beth Harmon jets from one tournament to the next. Despite their onslaught of colour and pattern however, they do often also include motifs that- like many of the costumes - reference the game of chess.
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Originally made by unyataylorjoy.
the queen’s finest
Ficlet I wrote ages but had no use for!
Fandom: The Queen’s Gambit
Relationships: Alice Harmon & Beth Harmon
Details: G, 708.
Characters: Beth Harmon
Tags: Canon Compliant, Ficlet, Time Skips, Not Beta Read, Character Study, Inspired by Music
💚 Reblogs, likes, comments, kudos, and concrit always appreciated, thank you! 💚
Tick.
Before Beth ever considers the notion of seeing a doctor about her childhood, she keeps it all in her head.
She thinks about how her mama had escaped from Cornell, from Paul, from her previous life. Alice had preferred her wonderland of grim paranoia and green pills over gilded prosperity.
Beth herself is running downhill so fast. Watch your step, Mama would say. Brace for impact.
Tick.
Jolene asks her about the last words her mama said. Beth pretends she doesn’t remember.
Jump-roping at Methuen feels safe, like the ground isn’t going to swallow her up or her mama’s trailer park isn’t going to fall apart. It’s a rhythmic way to run.
Tick.
Beth can’t stare at her haircut for too long, avoiding her reflection. If there’s a mirror, that just means it’s in her way.
At Methuen, no matter how much they preach, it feels irresponsible to dream of a better life.
At night, Beth glares at the shadows like they can see her. Move along, there’s nothing here for you to see.
Tick.
Beth discovers chess, which resonates with her more than math ever did.
With every rung she ascends on every leaderboard, on every ranking FIDE whips up, and on every list of “most formidable players” by Chess Review, Beth thinks she can run farther, skip the landmines, just play.
Beth never accepts any invitations from tournaments in Denver, Colorado as well as Ithaca, New York. Alma never asks the reasons for the second location. She doesn't object, either, since it’s not a feasible place to travel.
Tick.
After Paris, Beth is running in a circle: as far from her mother’s influence as she can but probably straight into her arms. Beth recognizes now what Alice always told her, how fucking beautiful loneliness can be.
Sometimes, Beth wonders how she would’ve said goodbye to her mama and even her papa if she’d had the chance. Their faces get blurrier with each passing winter. The days get shorter; the sunlight is great for sleeping off hangovers.
Tick.
Pawns in isolation are the weakest pieces on the board, but she’s a queen. She can fly anywhere she wants. She can run from death, from everything her mother always told her to fear, if she wants. It's the land of the free.
All roads converge at a vanishing point beyond her sight. If she runs a little farther, maybe she can make it. But Beth is getting tired, so tired. This must've been how Alice felt to live on the other side of the horizon line.
She can’t turn back around, not with her mama’s memories chasing her like harpies, and the alcohol calling her like a siren song, and everything resembling love she’s ever had crushed in her carelessness bleeding out like Iphigenia on the ship and Isaac on the mountain.
(To revise an earlier statement: weakest are the pawns in isolation, with delusions of grandeur.)
Tick.
From mistake after mistake, she runs and hides in equal measure. She loses track of the days until the Kentucky State Championship, her title since ‘63.
She returns from Henry Clay with her crown in pieces, her makeup smudged, her fury at Harry flying in tendrils behind her like smoke, her head aching like fire and brimstone.
Crash.
When she’s driving with Jolene around Kentucky, Beth realizes she doesn’t remember where Alice is buried. They stop by her trailer instead.
It’s not turning back, but moving on. Her mama is gone, passing the burden of living onto her.
If you ask her, Beth will tell you she loves Alice, always has, always will, but loves her like a childhood book that she's now outgrown.
Tick, tock.
Beth isn't sure she can stop running. But as she steps off the airport tarmac to the entourage of people who hug her so tightly she can't breathe, because trophy be damned, they're here for her, she thinks: no more hiding, no more promises she can't keep to elders who aren't here.
Beth muses, aren't we all just runaways? Jolene and Benny and Harry and Townes and Matt and Mike and Arthur and Hilton are her friends. They'll run with her.
Beth has always felt alone with her thoughts. Today, she is not.
#the queen's gambit#fanfiction#tqg#beth harmon#alice harmon#my fanfiction#inspired by music#first fic of 2022 published!!#tqg fanfiction
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'Penny’ Penelope Diamondsheart Cullman *Supporting character
Voice Claim: Joey King https://youtu.be/4Hh2eAK6Nnc?t=14
Partner(s): None.
Parents: Sparkle & Andy
Kids: None
Siblings: She has a lot on Andy’s side, best to click on his link/name to view them if you’re curious.
Age: Immortal, but translates into about 17 (2021)
Birthday: 12th of September
Height: 160 cm.
Body type: Slim
Eye color: Light green with a hazelnut brown around the iris.
Classification: Human, immortal.
About:
~ Outgoing, Creative, Adventurous, Open-minded, Spontaneous, Artistic, Friendly, Helpful, Caring, Imaginative, Easy-going, Strong-willed, Charming, Elegant, Intelligent, Charismatic, Stubborn, Challenging, Old Soul, Feminist, Contemplative, Somewhat quiet, Clumsy and Sarcastic.
~ Sexuality, straight?
~ Haircolor, ginger.
~ Not very close to her siblings, feels mostly like an only child.
~ Very close to Raven on the other hand, sees him as a sort of big brother.
~ Grew up with Raven being more available as a ‘parent figure’ than Andy, as Andy and Sparkle used to have a very rocky relationship while Penny was growing up.
~ Extremely intelligent.
~ Still lives with her mom, but hopes to get her own place sometime soon.
~ Was obsessed with the series ‘The Queens Gambit’ when she was a kid, so as she became a teen, she naturally copied the style of the female lead role, Beth Harmon.
~ She genuinely considers becoming a chess prodigy, otherwise something cool, like a scientist or an astronaut! Or perhaps a photographer or artist, owning her own little gallery in Paris.
~ Is a big cat person thanks to her mom. She grew up with several cats in the household and can’t imagine a life without cats.
~ Very much like her mom, she isn’t much of a cook, but she hopes to learn from her dad one day.
~ Likes to hang out with ‘the boys’.... girls not so much!
~ Is very good at drawing, painting and sewing.
~ Is taking up pottery classes. So far it’s going alright.
~ Enjoys reading a lot, and often prefers it over going out with friends.
~ Smells like red fruits, herbal shampoo or Amber.
~ Doesn’t back down easily, if she has her mind set on something.
~ Prefers dresses over pants, but does wear pants a lot.
~ Her favorite food is Hamburgers and Fries.
~ Prefers baths over showers.
~ Doesn’t like men talking down to her.
~ Goes by Penny, and only her parents or any sort of Authority calls her Penelope.
~ Speaks French pretty well.
~ Kinda addicted to pineapple/cream ice cream that her dad makes her since she was a toddler.
~ Starts every day with oatmeal with freeze-dried red berries, she loves the combo of taste and texture.
~ Is quick to choose sarcasm.
~ Food Enthusiast.
~ Drinks a lot of tea, specially any good quality that tastes like red berries.
~ Always tries to be the peacemaker between her parents.
~ Hangs out at the beach a lot when she wants peace to reflect on life.
~ Netflix is more of a background thing for company, it’s rare she really get into series or movies.
~ Loves her parents, cats, Hamburgers and fries, Pizza, cookies, bacon, waffles, pancakes, her dads homemade ice cream and food, salmon, shrimps, Cotton Candy, Toffee covered cakes, Spaghetti Carbonara, plums, fresh salads, red berries, Boeuf bourguignon, French cooking in general,
fuzzy blankets, indoor plants, The Queens Gambit, reading, bubble baths,
beach strolls, hanging out with her dad, dancing, being creative, foxes, anything minty, Christmas, starry nights and shopping with mom.
~ Her style is very vintage and elegant.
~ She’s very protective of her dad.
Penny’s tag
Penny’s house/home
Penny’s moodboard
Handwriting/ask answer pic:
One gif to describe her:
One song to describe her: The Dave Brubeck Quartet - Take Five
Personal playlist:
Mostly listens to JazzHop compilations on Youtube.
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Sky Castles
Pairing: Laurie x Reader, Jo x Reader
Summary: Summer has always been your favorite season in Plumfield. Perhaps it’s the lovely, sunny mornings and cool, calm nights, or perhaps it’s the fact that you and Laurie and Jo are practically inseparable in midsummer.
Follows the summers from childhood into young adulthood, with turmoils of the heart along the way.
Word count: 6.1k+
Warnings: fluff!!!!!!!!
A/N: hi, everyone. I hope you’re all staying safe and well! Right off the bat, I want to mention that I’ve pinned a post on both this blog and my main blog @sarapii-peachy about resources for the BLM movement to raise awareness and petitions you can sign to help make a difference on a smaller scale. Everything counts!
i’m back and now with a bachelor’s degree :’) class of 2020 high school and college esketit!!! we did it!!! in this historic pandemic!!! Sorry I’ve been gone for a bit, this fic has been my rocky transition/attempt out of writer’s block after my INSANE last semester of uni and with all the craziness going on in the world. I hope you can channel and take in some of this innocent happiness and childhood glee into your own lives as we navigate the shitshow that is 2020. Saoirse x Timmy x Reader here to cure me of my depression lmao
this title is also based off a chapter in the Little Women book where Laurie, Jo, and the girls go to a park and gaze at the passing clouds and talk about their futures...it’s honestly really sweet. Loosely based off of that!
Comments and feedback would be greatly appreciated on this💛! Not that you guys don’t leave love, but this fic like I mentioned is my attempt at kicking writer’s block in the ass, please let me know how I did! :) talk to me I missed you guys :)
tags: @ravenmoore14 @monikakrasnorada @dangertoozmanykids101 @toozmanykids @adawn1970 @mrchalamet-mrstyles @chavezlikesthings @loveylangdon@daygiowvibe @statisticlytimmy @ceexreverse @bamposworld @lilttletimmy @cindere-llaaa
gif credit to @sheisraging
You love New England for its rich, distinct seasons, how they each paint the countryside in eloquent sweeps of shade and hue. Snow, sun, and breathtaking landscapes of fall color that tinge the treetops throughout the year. You love Plumfield, Massachusetts more for the warmth and love the March sisters have shown you, each alike in personality, nature, to the equinoxes that have shaped your girlhood, each tender memory from your youth synonymous with Meg, Amy, Beth, and Jo.
Autumn. Cozy and comfortable, where motherly Meg showed you how to heat and dip caramel with the apples you’d carefully picked from the orchard for a rare treat, the kitchen swirling with the aroma of cinnamon, nutmeg, turmeric, and spices that left you feeling aglow. She’d taught you how to use an embroidery hoop, how to let dough rise, how to bake a proper pie and how to fix any clothing tear with a simple needle and thread, her compliments quick for your ever growing domestic talents.
Winter. Like cool, ambitious Amy with her painting and taste for luxury and pleasure, how she would praise you for being the only subject suitable for her artwork. Laurie would moan and complain about sitting for hours by the fireside, begging to be excused to go play in the snow, but never you. Amy called you her muse, arranging your hair and skirts to her liking, softening your lips and cheeks with a touch of rouge. It was always such fun to make a day out of modeling for Amy’s portraits, talking and laughing as she’d set up her paints.
Spring. Sweet and angelic like little Beth, windows wide open as her piano trills would float on the warm air, curtains ruffling in the breeze. You’d sit beside her on the piano bench and turn her sheet music for her, to which Beth would give you a shy, rosy smile in thanks. She taught you how to play Chopin and Tchaikovsky, duet pieces where you’d accompany her on the keys, harmonizing with chords and your fingers flying easily together.
Summer. Your favorite season, refreshing, bright, where you and Jo would spend balmy days and long, cool evenings tucked beneath the shade of tree trunks and willows as you’d read in the sun, listen to Jo’s carefully crafted stories. Her creativity and imagination never failed to amaze you, how her writing could transport you to the farthest countries, or keep you grounded in whatever fantastical setting she’d constructed for herself. She’d often write about the two of you; two young girls, best friends who’d have all sorts of dazzling adventures exploring the corners of the world, without the taxing responsibilities of chores, or schoolwork, or the foreboding, inevitable reality that one day you will be young adults and childhood would be gone forever. You’d have picnics and excursions to the nearby fields, dozing in the sun and picking wildflowers, splashing and wading through the rivers and creeks when the heat became unbearable. Before Laurie would come and spoil your fun, of course. Then, you and Jo and Laurie would be like three rowdy boys playing in the woods, your laughter echoing off the trees and sparkling waters.
You first meet Theodore Laurence as a young girl in the fields connecting the March’s property and your own. You live just down the road from the March sisters, your house tucked away beyond the bend and you’d make the trek across the meadow and grasses daily to visit your neighbors. Being an only child with your father off fighting for the Union, the March house was like your second home and the girls and Marmee and Hannah always made you feel like part of the family, your own loneliness long forgotten as soon as you’d step through the door and you’d be welcomed back with laughter, squeals, and embraces.
Today, you are seeking the company of your friends as usual, returning a book Jo had lended you with a basketful of scones you’d baked in repayment. A recipe you’d learned from Meg. The autumn air is surprisingly warm against your skin, indian summer, flushed and golden and dappling the plains. It makes you smile softly, your mood pleasant as you gather your skirts in time with your step, adjust your basket.
Then, you see him. A boy making his way in the same direction, dressed smartly in a black woolen coat and matching trousers, a silk scarf tastefully tied around his throat. His curls are windswept and tousled, his gait relaxed. He feels your gaze and looks up, eyes finding yours and the corner of his mouth ticks up in a friendly smile. Warmth floods your cheeks. You quickly duck your head.
He looks to be your age, but you’ve read tales of highwaymen and bandits roaming the countryside, how they’d feign kindness, only to strike unsuspecting travelers. Perhaps it was the work of Jo’s overactive and contagious imagination playing at your nerves, but why was he heading towards the March’s? You think of little Beth, how boys and newcomers made her nervous, timid. Your resolve hardens protectively. You have to keep this stranger away from the girls.
Your pulse hammers in your throat as you lift your head to see the boy still looking your way. He waves his hand in greeting.
“Hello!” he cheers.
With your eyes still locked, you pick up your pace and keep your silence. Curiously, the boy finds this amusing, laughing, making it into a game as he too begins to walk briskly towards the house, of who will reach the door first. You narrow your eyes, summoning as much hostility and wickedness to your expression, demeanor as you can muster. The two of you are running now, his grin wide and eager, your own mouth twisted with hard concentration as you race each other.
Your chest is heaving when you brace yourself against the doorframe, blocking his way with your arm, back against the wood. He’s not a second behind you and is already on the stoop when you turn to face him.
“Are you Jo’s friend?” the boy asks you with a breathless, easy smile. “You’re quite fast, even faster than her.” He adds. He’s practically bouncing on his feet, jovial and buzzing with energy. The mention of Jo’s name curbs your distrust further. Bandit may now be off the table, and the thought makes you feel a bit foolish now, but how could Jo befriend such a strange boy without you knowing? How did he already seem to know who you are?
Up close, you notice his eyes are green and mischievous, reflecting back the shimmering plains in flecks of amber as he gazes at you, your pulse fluttering ever so slightly…
You scold yourself internally.
Handsome or not, he was undoubtedly a boy of trouble who had somehow won over Jo’s attention. And no easy feat, might you add. Headstrong and resolute, Jo’s circle of friends was quite small outside of you and her sisters, and you liked it that way. You’d like to keep it that way as well.
You feel a sharp, ugly pang of jealousy curl in your stomach. You stick out your lower lip in a pout, turn up your nose in a way that would certainly earn a scolding from Marmee if she were to see your impoliteness.
“Who are you to ask?” You snap.
Your words do not take the desired effect on him. Instead of hurt, or embarrassment, the boy smirks at you, amused. He cocks his head to one side and leans back on his heels, studying you like you’d just asked him why the sky is blue. His mood is breezy, amiable.
“I’m Laurie. Is that better?” he offers with a comical pout of his own. You wrinkle your nose. This boy was starting to irritate you more and more.
“Surname?”
“Laurence.”
“Laurie Laurence? My, how silly and dull.”
He laughs, a low and pleasant sound that threatens to melt your angry facade. He shakes his head, hands in his pockets.
“It’s a pet name. Jo calls me Teddy, but you may call me whichever you like,” he says. Your jealousy burns brighter, flushing your skin, twisting together with a hint of desire and yearning.
You were once Jo’s everything, her favorite companion. She made this clear with how she’d tell you plainly, how she’d spoil you with compliments and stories and affection. And now, it seemed Jo knew another, this Laurie, well enough to call him Teddy when you had no pet name of your own. She seemed to speak of you, which would explain Laurie’s cordiality, but did she tell him how you were the only one she felt comfortable enough with to critique her writing? How she would encourage your aspirations of becoming a dancer by arranging the foyer into a stage and cheering for you while sitting atop the staircase like an admirer in the box seats? How the two of you could jest and play for hours with nothing but your imagination, crying from laughter until your bellies ached?
You feel a sense of betrayal and heartache at this, an intrusion, a tirade of emotions you can’t quite explain. Did you want Jo all for yourself? Did you want to befriend Laurie as well? Did you just want to be someone’s everything again and to be doted on and loved?
Then, Laurie’s voice tapers into a quiet hum, a touch of softness. You hear the first indication of bashfulness as he looks down at you through full, dark lashes. “I hope the three of us can be good friends. I’d like to know you as well.” He murmurs.
You don’t know what to think of him. Your chest feels tight and your cheeks burn, from anger or passion you can’t quite tell. You’re contemplating leaving your basket on the doorstep and shoving past him to go back home when you suddenly hear a clamor of voices and the turning of the knob and then the door falls open behind you.
Laurie catches you before you can tumble through the entryway, hands finding your waist. Jo, vibrant and chipper as ever, lights up when she sees you and her sky blue eyes shine like glass. She has her cap fitted over her wavy blonde curls, skipping into your arms and for a moment you’re sandwiched between the two of them. You flush scarlet.
“Oh, good! You two have met. Goodbye, Marmee! I’m going out!” Jo calls into the house, her voice overlapping with her sisters’ as they all greet you in a burst of chaos. But before Jo can usher you outside, you feel your childish temper flare and you squirm out of her reach and back through the open door and into the house. You set your basket onto the table, turning to hide your face in Amy’s shoulder with a flutter of your skirts as you feel the hot sting of tears prickle your eyes. You weren’t going to let this Laurie boy see you cry upon your first encounter.
“I’m not coming.” You mumble. Amy’s hand comes to soothingly pet back your hair with a hush of surprise and you sense her look to Jo with a characteristic glare.
“Jo, what have you done?” Amy presses.
“I’ve done nothing!” Jo retorts with a huff. Then, her voice turns gentle, curious as she speaks to you. “Dear, what’s the matter?”
“She wouldn’t be on the verge of tears if you hadn’t done nothing, would she?” Amy replies. You laugh weakly, tightening your arms around her. “See?” Amy says. “You’ve broken her heart, the poor thing.”
“Jo’s made new friends,” you sniffle, embarrassed when Laurie’s eyes meet yours. Amy’s arms around you make you feel comforted and safe, brave enough to voice your true burdens when you say, “I’ve been replaced,” and gaze back at Laurie in defiance, protest. He frowns and shifts his weight, looking genuinely sorry with a guilt that touches his eyes. Good, you think. Let him think twice before stealing away your best companion.
At this, Jo’s expression softens with understanding and warmth as she sees you curl into Amy once more. Jo takes a step into the open doorway, leaving Laurie on the stoop.
“No one could ever replace you, dear,” she says. “I only keep Laurie around for when I’m bored and you aren’t around to play. Look at him,” she gestures in his direction. “He’s aloof and vain, he’s lazy, he doesn’t have an ounce of the imagination you do-”
“Don’t forget arrogant.” Amy pipes up.
Jo nods, wagging a finger at her sister. “Right you are, Amy. We mustn't forget that.”
Laurie starts to puff up with a temper, his lips twisting together and you can see him struggling with whether to speak up and defend himself, or let the girls have their fun for your sake. Jo goes on, saying he was devious and too pretty for his own good, making you and Amy giggle as she rubs soothing circles into your back. It’s rather polite and charming as you watch Laurie suffer silently, biting his tongue as Jo continues to defame his character before she finally turns back to you.
“I should have introduced the two of you properly, and for that, I’m sorry,” says Jo. “You must have had quite the surprise running into him.” Laurie again glances to you with an apologetic softness, wringing his hands together. “So, what do you think, Teddy? Are we ready to start afresh?” Jo asks him, hands on her hips.
This makes you laugh, bubbly, your mood perking up as you finally lift your head from Amy’s shoulder. Of course, Jo would be able to comprehend your grievances and somehow peg Laurie with the blame, how she knew your heart was delicate and tender and so full of devotion that you were quick to hold grudges. Your envy dissipates and you feel a bit sorry seeing Laurie now in such low spirits, his theatrical demeanor now quiet and modest.
“If she’ll have me,” Laurie murmurs, glancing up at you with such a pureness in his glittering eyes that regret starts to settle in your stomach.
“And I’ve written more of that story you enjoyed so much,” Jo holds out a hand to you. “Won’t you come hear what happens next?” she asks. Slowly, like the pull of a magnet, you untangle yourself from Amy’s arms and cross the room to take Jo’s outstretched hand.
“Alright.” You say at last. Jo beams and cradles your face with her other hand, swiping away your tears with her thumb. You let her baby you like she would with Beth, enjoying her touch against your cheek.
“That’s my sweet girl.” She smiles.
You then look to a sheepish Laurie and extend a hand, filled with new courage. You tell him your name and echo back his words that you hope the three of you can indeed become good friends, that you and Jo could do well with another acquaintance. The smile Laurie gives you is genuine, sweet and gentle, the corner of his mouth turning up in crooked delight. He clasps your hand warmly.
“I would want nothing more.” Laurie laughs.
And with that, nestled between Jo and Laurie, you step back outside into the rich and golden light of a warm autumn afternoon, curious, excited for what adventures the day will bring you.
**
Laurie joins your duo swimmingly and the rest of the year passes in pleasant tranquility as the three of you spend nearly every waking moment by each others’ sides. All Hallow’s Eve finds you dressed in a costume of French royalty, a pompous and comical gown of ballooning fabrics, complete with a powdered wig of pins and curls. You’ve painted your face with overlined lips and the trademark mole below your eye and the March sisters double over with laughter as you enter the foyer, fluttering your paper fan with an aristocratic pout, Laurie saluting your entrance with a roar of, la plus belle fille du monde! Jo is dressed as a fearsome pirate, outfitted in boots, breeches, and a captain’s hat, the wooden sword you and Laurie helped to paint swishing through the air as she parades into the room. Laurie enters last with a bang and a flash of white powder, appearing before your eyes in true magician fashion with a top hat and cane, a false mustache pasted onto his upper lip. All six of you then march across the field to the Laurence residence, now alight with carved pumpkins and lanterns, for your All Hallow’s Eve party of sweets and games.
Christmas brings festivities, flurries, and cheer. Sledding, ice skating, days of cold and winter fun making snow angels and snowmen, decorating the March house with holly, mistletoe, culminating into a hearty turkey dinner as you sit perched next to Laurie. The candlelight is homely, the sound of laughter and clinking silverware washing over you and you catch Laurie’s eye as he lifts his fork to his mouth. The two of you grin, leaning into each other with quiet happiness, heads bowed. You and Laurie both mirror each other in being only children, meaning these times together have been filled with welcome camaraderie. Where your instances of yearning for the companionship of siblings that only those without can understand, you’ve found company in each other, never a dull moment, never lonely.
The thaw of spring keeps you tucked away indoors with torrents of rain pelting against the roof. Jo reads to you aloud from her novel, asking for your thoughts every so often as you and Laurie lounge on the sofa. When you articulate a point of slight critique on Jo’s use of character, Laurie teasingly tugs on a lock of your hair with a smirk.
“How perceptive.” He murmurs, grinning.
You swat his hand away, glaring at him in mock anger.
And as the days grow warmer, so does your heart. You’ve learned to share your affection between Laurie and Jo in a way you think is equally matched and that autumn day where you’d been so sour to both of them seems like ages ago. Soon after that incident, your bravado had quickly morphed into appreciation and Jo had been eager to break the ice between you and Laurie. And like all children, your differences and jealousy had been set aside as you’d discovered he was quite fun to be around. Laurie shared Jo’s quick wit and intelligence, like an androgynous mirror, so much of yourself also reflected in both of them in time and they in you. And yet, Laurie had a certain charm about him; how he could have the two of you in stitches and still maintain the air of sophistication that was so often expected of the Laurence boy. Admittedly, you were thrilled to have them both as your best and favorite playmates.
In turn, they had done the same, showering you with loving attention and teasing, keeping you entertained with their bickering, quarreling over how they both wanted to occupy your time with their respective ideas for sport. Fighting over you. The thought of it makes you blush furiously. Yet, you feel cared for, like the most precious thing in their lives.You’ve also selfishly enjoyed being the apple of their eye and all the privileges that has bestowed; Jo writing you into her stories, featuring you as a beautiful sugar plum fairy, and Laurie promising to write you a French ballet, to someday whisk you off to Europe to experience high art and culture.
At last, spring turns to summer and the three of you are back to mischief and horseplay in the great outdoors. The days are lush, agreeable, bright and pleasant with flashing sunshine and lofty clouds. You’re again reminded why summer to you is synonymous with Jo as you run together through the waving fields bursting with flowers, Laurie right on your heels as he too gives chase.
“Jo! We were only kidding about the toads!” Laurie calls out from behind you. “It’s not like I have one in my pocket this very moment who’s squirming to get free and might have bitten me earlier when I caught him by the river and-”
He gives a shout of surprise and you hear his footfalls pause in the grasses. You and Jo both turn, breathless, already laughing when you see Laurie hopping about like hot coals are burning beneath his feet.
A small pond frog wiggles out of his pocket seam with a croak and then disappears into the meadow, waddling with great speed. With out-turned pockets and wrinkled trousers, Laurie stands there with his hands on his hips, confidence and humor masking his faults as always.
“My, they grow up so fast, don’t they?” Laurie says as he looks out over the crest of the hill with a humorous glint in his eyes, like a mother watching her child leave for the vast, cruel world. You and Jo collapse into a fit of giggles, holding each other upright by the shoulders and gasping for air.
**
Eternal summer and sun, a tender paradise. And as midsummer arrives, so does the heat. It’s stifling, heavy, the kind that suffocates and forbids any excessive movement or play, when being idle is perfectly acceptable, a rarity for you three young adventurers. Today, even nature herself seems to be drowsy from the stifling weather. Sunflowers droop from the weight of honeybees as they float lazily over the fields. Birds chortle from the treetops, as if too tired to fly, their song intertwining with the rustling grasses, tousled by the rare cool breeze. The sky burns a dome of brilliant blue above you, filled with towering, cotton white cumulus clouds. You watch as they drift slowly over the horizon. Like colossal ships at sea.
You rest your head on Laurie’s chest and he toys with your hair. Jo dozes with her arms pillowed across your stomach and the three of you are a sleepy dog-pile of limbs. The feel of Laurie’s fingers makes you relaxed, drowsy. You hear Jo then give a soft snore and you chuckle.
“What is it?” Laurie asks. You can already hear the smile in his voice, how just your laughter is enough to amuse him too. You shake your head against his chest and the movement makes you giggle again. Laurie joins you, flopping out his legs, the heat making you both delirious and loopy.
You reach up blindly and give him a firm nudge, your hand landing just under his chin.
“Stop it, you’ll wake her.” You scold him with as much seriousness as you can muster and failing miserably.
“Ow,” Laurie groans. He grasps your wrist, moving your hand to place it against his cheek and he puckers out his lower lip. “You’ve hurt me, I’m unwell.”
“Oh...Laurie, I didn’t mean it..” you sit up and coo, caressing his skin. Laurie looks pleased, a flash of playfulness in the green of his eyes as you lean towards him. “Let me take a closer-”
You cuff him on the ear ever so lightly, catching him by complete surprise and Jo wakes, cackling, throwing her arms around you.
Later, the three of you gaze up at the passing clouds, a comfortable silence settling over you all as you enjoy the afternoon.
“If we could fly up into those clouds and there was a castle with anything your heart desired, what would it be?” Jo asks. “Where do you two see your lives leading you?” Her tone is pensive, romantic. You and Laurie both hum in thought.
“You first, Laurie.” You murmur.
Laurie turns to look back at the bright blue sky, to the billowy clouds that look like spun sugar candy.
“I want to live abroad in Europe and be surrounded by music, my music. I want to compose, I want to be renowned for my operas.” He declares with a proud puff of his chest. Jo nods, you give his hand a reassuring squeeze.
“That sounds very much like you, Teddy,” Jo says. “A bachelor making art in Europe, how capital.”
He makes a face, then winks at you out of the corner of his eye. You stick out your tongue.
“You can do it if you stay focused,” you add. “No more billiards, for a start.”
Laurie wrinkles his nose. “And what is it that you want, prima donna?” he asks you in challenge.
You turn away with a roll of your eyes, gaze to the heavens. The thought comes to you easily as you listen to the birds, feel the breeze tickling your skin, drinking in the sky.
“I want to be a ballet dancer in a prestigious company. I want to tour the world.” You say softly. Before, you would have felt embarrassment to share such an ambitious dream. But something about this moment, of being with Laurie and Jo makes you feel brave and safe enough to speak your mind, to put your words into the universe and have it come to fruition. Like a magic spell of sorts. With them here with you, you feel like any dream is possible.
Another chorus of hums and Jo looks pleased at your response. Laurie smirks up at the horizon.
“No fair if it’s likely to happen,” he laughs. “That’s cheating.”
“Oh, hush,” Jo chides with a rather hard sock to Laurie’s arm. She ignores his whines as he recoils and grumbles dramatically. “You’re well on your way, dear,” Jo tells you. “Now that you’ll be in that New York production next summer, I’m sure your opportunities will be plentiful.”
You hope she’s right. You’d secured a role as an ensemble dancer in an upcoming production of Romeo and Juliet, your most prestigious show as of yet in your young and budding career. Jo’s warm praise makes you blush like the flowers surrounding you, pink and full. Laurie’s quick eyes catch this, envious, and he changes the subject, a muscle ticking ever so slightly in his jaw.
“And you, Jo?” He asks tightly.
Jo exhales, crossing her arms behind her head. “Being a writer, of course. A great one. I don’t want to settle for less.”
“Doubtful,” snides Laurie. “I don’t see it.”
You and Laurie look to each other with a quiet smile.
“No, not with all the prizes you’ve won,” you add. “Impossible.”
Jo shoots upright, too quickly for the heat. She slugs Laurie again.
“Ow...Jo, it’s too hot for your beatings,” he moans. “Don’t be a poor sport.”
She doesn’t answer him, only gives him a final push and hunkers back down onto the grass, turning her back to him with a huff.
“Why am I the only one that ever gets hit?” Laurie grumbles, opening his shirt to cool himself off and throws his forearm across his eyes for shade, frowning. You giggle, curling up beside her.
“I believe in your abilities, Jo.” You whisper to her. She takes your hand.
It’s not long before the three of you are fast asleep in the sun.
**
And as the seasons and summers roll on and the fruits of childhood begin to slowly ripen with the passing years, you find your companionship with Laurie and Jo changing and growing like never before. Your friendship starts to blossom into fondness, adoration. Indeed, you’ve loved them as playmates and companions since the three of you were children, but as you flourish amidst that quaint, strange, and budding pocket of time when young men and women come of age, where you and Laurie and Jo are now struck with bashfulness and an awareness of being alone with each other, your love for them arches and glows like summer sunset.
This makes you acutely conscious of your appearance and dress, your posture, how you carry yourself, your mannerisms. How did your hair look? Did you laugh too loudly? Would Jo think your comments about her writing were too harsh? Why did you feel such warmth in your chest every time you saw her? And why were you starting to anticipate Laurie’s company? Why did you always have a sharp hope that he would come around with every visit of yours to the March residence? The constant whir of thoughts and worries was enough to make your head turn with heaviness, make you collapse from the pressures of simply existing.
“You’re acting odd,” Laurie tells you one day.
The two of you lay in a meadow with summer buzzing all around you, resting beneath the drooping leaves of a willow tree. Jo had been unable to join you as she had Beth’s lessons to teach that afternoon, much to her own disappointment and promising to make it up to you soon with an affectionate pinch to your cheek. You’d considered going home then. The last thing you wanted was to be left alone with Laurie, that familiar crush in your chest, an inkling of dread coupled with a shortness of breath, fear and excitement. You were terrified. But when he’d taken your hand and asked you so sweetly to accompany him to the meadow’s waters, how could you possibly refuse?
But of course, Laurie was quick to notice your nerves.
“The heat is getting to your head,” you say evenly with eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face. “Besides, that’s rather rude.”
You hear him move and feel his presence directly in front of you, as if leaning in.
“It is a bit hot, do you feel up for a swim?”
This makes your eyes snap open. Following Jo’s mannerisms, you give him a shove in the chest. “You’re vile,” you grin.
To your surprise, Laurie’s teasing, playful demeanor is nowhere to be found. His gaze is instead thoughtful, holding your own like you are all he sees. Immediately, you feel your pulse kick up in the side of your throat.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he continues with a shake of his head. “You don’t seem like yourself. I thought a change in our routine could be refreshing.”
You give a light shrug of your shoulders. “I feel fine,” you say.
He brushes the back of his hand against your forehead. He hums, then curls his fingers down along the planes of your face to rest on your cheek.
“You’re flushed,” he murmurs.
Time seems to slow. The roar of blood deafens your ears and the fragrance of the sweet waters and blooms around you is overwhelming, sunlight refracting like prismed rainbow. Laurie kisses you then, a gentle touch of his lips, tilting your chin up to meet him. A sweetheart’s kiss, one that tastes of summer secrets as you’re shaded by vines and mist. When you break apart, he keeps his hand cradled against your cheek, his thumb circling the corner of your mouth.
You don’t know what to say. You’re speechless, your chest rising and falling softly, staring back at him with wide, surprised eyes. Laurie looks reflective, emerald irises half-lidded.
“What am I to tell Jo?” you whisper to him. Heat diffuses through your body like desert wind. You feel elated, cherished, frightened, embarrassed. Guilty. Laurie’s eyes flicker once more to your lips, his dark lashes fluttering with the movement. His smile is melancholy, yet knowing.
“You love her, too.” Laurie hums. It’s a statement, a confirmation of your feelings for both of them. The fact that the boy you’ve adored for so long has uttered your very thoughts out loud should have you completely mortified, yet there’s a small sense of comfort knowing he’d understand. Laurie knows this because he himself feels the same way, knows you or Jo or himself could never bring themselves to choose.
Laurie’s smile prompts you to lace your fingers together in the grasses and you give him a light peck on the cheek. He brightens up, raking a hand through his black curls.
“You love me.” Laurie beams.
**
When you tell Jo about the kiss, she’s dancing with you on the porch in the evening light. Inside, you can see Marmee and the girls entertaining themselves through the windows as you practice your pirouettes. Jo is dressed in her writing jacket and trousers, keeping you balanced as she plays the part of the male dancer, perfectly competent.
“What an impish boy,” Jo says of Laurie. You laugh and the two of you continue your steps, running through the dance number in a private rehearsal. Laurie is due to rehearse with you the week before your performance and the thought itself is enough to make butterflies explode in your stomach. Jo is a strong, leading dancer, while Laurie is graceful and firm, both capable of making the palms of your hands sweat with nerves. You know in your heart if you could rehearse with them, you’d have no fear on opening night. You’d already be invincible.
“Again from the top, please, kind sir,” you curtsey to Jo. Her smile is giddy and she gives a click of her heels before returning to her starting position.
“Of course,” she responds. Taking your hand, she guides you through the steps once more, your heart soft and temperate like the evening around you.
**
The sound of applause is warm and full, washing over you as you take your bows. You feel weightless, aglow, eyes brimming with tears. You think you see Laurie and Jo leap to their feet in the audience, but the stage lights are too bright and you cannot see clearly and you think you may faint from happiness.
In the auditorium, you’re still in your costume of Venetian silks and flowers when you’re swept off your feet by a boisterous Laurie and he twirls you around in his arms, his riding cloak billowing out behind him.
“There’s our Capulet! You were phenomenal!”
“I’m so proud of you, dear!” Jo practically shouts with excitement, tackling you next in a bearish hug when Laurie finally sets you down. Their praise is boundless, endless, showering you in so much adoration that your heart feels close to bursting. You gather them close, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.
“Thank you both for everything,” you choke out, squeezing them tight.
Over Jo’s shoulder, you spot Marmee, Meg, Amy, even shy little Beth with a bouquet of flowers and then you let the tears fall when you run to them and you thank your stars for the luck and love you’ve been blessed with.
**
Another year, another summer soon arrives. You and Jo and Laurie are back in the fields cloud-gazing, a lazy afternoon of heat and leisurely time well spent. Things feel familiar, recognizable between the three of you, yet there’s a sense of distance between now and when Jo had first asked about your castles in the sky all those summers ago.
Jo was now making a name for herself in the writer’s world, having won another prize in a New York newspaper. She’d been gaining the attention of devoted readers and critics alike and was now working on a proper novel, her longest project as of yet. She tells you not to worry, that she’ll be sure to feature you as a central character in the same way she’d done as a child, nostalgic tales of pirates and adventure and love.
“My sweet sugar plum fairy,” she’d gruffed, pulling you into another powerful hug.
Laurie had finished his opera, now with aspirations of pulling funds together and opening a production in Europe. He was still in the midst of planning and conversing with his grandfather about finances and departure dates, but it seemed like Laurie’s promise of spiriting you away to Europe could now become a reality. And with the possibility of your very own French stage debut!
Thus, you three souls were being tugged into three far corners of the globe, to your respective callings. The realization scares you, to know that this may be one of the few times you have left together. But underneath it all, there was a sense of excitement to see the world and make it your own. You were satisfied, proud knowing that the three of you had come so far with your aspirations and you had no doubt you would find success in your art.
In the comfortable silence, serenaded by the hum of cicadas and birdsong, you gaze up to the clouds gliding over Plumfield, Massachusetts. You feel an aching longing for those childhood days of carefree play, the countless rose-tinted memories of Laurie and Jo by your side, yet looking up at the sky, you know these memories of summers past will always be with you.
And there would be better and more to come.
#timothee chalamet#timothée chamalet#little women#timothee chalamet x reader#saoirse ronan#jo march#timothee chalamet imagine#saoirse ronan imagine#theodore laurence#theodore laurie laurence#laurie#jo#imagines#laurie x reader#jo x reader#saoirse ronan x you#timothee chalamet x you#saoirse ronan fanfic#greta gerwig#saoirse ronan x reader
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