Monday morning waking fantasy [no sex]

[With the usual apologies for miswriting Standring’s dialect. –S]


“Don’t think you can’t tell me things,” John Standring (Richard Armitage) says to Carol Boulton (Sarah Smart) in episode 3 of Sparkhouse. Source:


I wake up in Standring’s arms, just as the sun is streaking through the narrow basement window. The bed in this room is positioned so it hits my face around an hour after sunrise. Today, 6:15 a.m. Too early. No morning chores for him here, but I’m desperate enough not to ask why he’s come. I’m grateful. I burrow up against him as tight as I can get. I kiss his collarbone, and then the underside of his chin. He stirs.

“Tha’ was some storm last night, Serv,” he remarks. “I don’t know when I’ve ever seen y’cry tha’ ‘ard.”

“Luckily it happened in the dark and no one saw it,” I whisper. “If a girl cries in the dark and no one hears her–”

“I ‘eard you,” he points out. “Else I wouldn’t ha’ been ‘ere now.”

“You’re not real,” I reply.

“You brought me ‘ere,” he responds, reasonably, and begins to stroke my arm. “So y’must think y’made a sound.”

“I’m’na make you make a sound, now,” I say, and I crane my neck up to his ear as I begin rubbing circles on his chest, and gradually downward.

“Mmmm,” he says, “no tryin’ to change the subject on me, miss,” and he stills my arm. “No’ tha’ it’s no’ welcome, but you need t’ talk, first.” He brings his hand back down, stroking over my arm.

I’m silent.

“Why were y’crying?” he asks.

“You know I can’t say,” I say, grumpily. I venture my hand toward his boxers, again, and this time he grasps it firmly and holds on before I get anywhere near where I’m going.

“‘S fear,” he says. “You’re afraid t’tell me t’reason, and so y’want t’shag, yeah?” He gathers me all the way into his arms and pulls me up on top of his body, immobilizing me.

“I want to stop blogging,” I say. “I just really need to stop. When I think about continuing to write lately, I feel queasy. And with all this other stuff going on, now–”

“Nah,” he says. “Tha’s no’ t’reason. This isn’t abou’ t’blog.”

“Oh, Mr. Incredibly Emotionally Self-Aware has an opinion about the function of the blog?” I say, meanly. He loosens his arms and pushes me off.

“Y’can be a righ’ cow, mornings.”

He’s right. Although he might be impugning the honor of cows. “I’m sorry,” I say.

“‘Tis all right, Serv,” he says, “I know how y’are, but if y’want t’sort this, y’need t’see–”

“See what?” I challenge him.

“‘Tis no’ abou’ t’blog.”

“But I feel bad, when I write.”

“Yeah, d’y’see? ‘Tis abou’ t’feeling. No’ t’blog.”

“I just can’t afford–”

“Y’canno’ decide,” he says, pulling me back into his arms again, “y’canno’ plan, how much pain y’will feel. The pain decides for y’and t’must be felt, otherwise t’will turn off t’writing again, just like before. So now is no’t’time,” and he’s stroking my hair, and kisses my cheek, “t’stop writing t’blog. No matter how bad y’think t’might get.”

I kiss him back.

“Keep feeling, keep writing?” I ask.


“You won’t go?” I plead.

“No’ till y’have t’sorted,” he reassures me. “Time for breakfast?” he says, hopefully.

I hit him over the head with the pillow. “If only you’d eat it with me,” I say.

“Y’know I don’t go upstairs wi’you.”

“I fantasize about sex, and you dream of–”

“Bacon, eggs, porridge, tomatoes, sausages….”

I giggle.

~ by Servetus on June 25, 2012.

36 Responses to “Monday morning waking fantasy [no sex]”

  1. Hi Serv,
    You could compromise with him. Ever hear of breakfast in bed? Every girl wants to have her Standring Cake and … Sorry, I’m a good girl and I don’t go there–except euphemistally. Ha! Besides, you’re entitled to want what you want. I hope you get it, too.

    Cheers! Grati


  2. Can you send him over to my place Servetus? I desperately need someone like Sweetie John right now.. (Sorry, I know it doesn’t work like that).


  3. I’m sorry you feel bad when you write..It doesn’t show! Or maybe I’m just too new to notice.


    • I think you might have to know me fairly well to tell when I’m in pain when I am not explicitly saying it. I’m trying to figure out ways to be more open about it.


  4. Sometimes life just really, really sucks and hurts and is hard and there is nothing to do but cry. Some undetermined time after the crying, action of some type is possible and probably still lots of tears.
    Feelings are nothing to be ashamed of, whether we think they are good, bad, or overwhelming. We all have them even if we can’t express them or the pain to express them is too much. You must be really hurting to not enjoy writing. I will keep you and your family in my prayers.


    • I’m really grateful for the prayers and support, Snicker’s Mom.

      I think what i realized during this fantasy is that after 2006, I was so in danger of being overwhelmed by pain that my brain just decided to shut it off. That was a bad decision because it had all kinds of other consequences. I have to keep writing because the blog opened the door on all that feeing again, and I don’t get to decide which feelings I am willing to feel, I think.


  5. What….no sex? I’m disappointed, Servetus. In fact, I’m sooo very disappointed that I might not even read what you said above, so there!



  6. Oh, Servetus…I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how you were feeling when I wrote that tripe above. Please ignore it.


  7. I know things are hard right now, but blogging is paramount. You write to feel. It’s important to face the emotions than stuff them down to fester later. This may sound trite, but things feel worse before they feel better. You’ll going to make it through all of this.


  8. Writing helps to cope and to make sense of the feelings. Who am I to speak here, when I always fall silent, when things get tight?
    Please continue, Servetus!
    When even John Standring encourages you with his down to earth realism, how can you possibly resist a good imaginary breakfast with him? Where the honey could go … (It’s late here and I had some success with my project, so I seem to get a boost of unusual naughtiness ;o)


  9. I agree with what John said! He may lack schooling, but he’s a smart one 😉 I’m really sorry you feel that way (more than I can express), and I can only hope it’ll pass very very soon!


  10. ((( )))


  11. You know you can tell Standring anything. He is not judgmental and he is sensitive and accepting…actually he is a lot like most of your readers. He and many, many of us will be right along with you. If you write it, we will read it. And I am with you, sometimes it sucks to feel.


  12. OMG!….do you really want to stop writing?:(…..oh…just shut up Joanna!


    • No, I want to stop feeling. Which isn’t an option. 🙂


      • Wow. I can’t help but notice: it’s almost as if you’ve assigned ‘thinking’ = reward, ‘feeling’ = punishment.

        Luckily, you are bravely embracing both in this blog – a sort of feeling fueled and inspired thinking state! 🙂

        Such a lovely morning with Mr. Standring. Quite a loving nurturer, that one. I also like his breakfast list… errgh – minus the porridge, maybe… 😉


  13. Even, when leaving rather short comments here, it is quite often a big effort for me, with sometimes aplenty of mingled feelings included. I wonder why it is often so difficult to actual finally press the post comment-button. (ok, I do have some ideas about that….)
    Servetus, I LOVE your blog and your writings. Coming here every day has been a great pleasure (you know that) and it is one of the most important things for me to do, and I truly do not want to do without it. It enlightens me, it confuses me, it certainly amuses me and it makes me often laugh out loud, You can make me sad, and you regularily bring tears to my eyes. I’m often desperate because I can’t keep pace with your spate of thoughts and my inability/possibility to react immediately or accordingly bugs. For sure I’m principally deeply impressed about the range of your topics and the way you can express yourself, yeah I’m often almost speechless and sometimes I’m simply overchallenged. You make me look up many, many words in dictionaries, writing them down and then afterwards, I desperately try to get them in my stubborn and refusing brain. I’m flabbergasted by all that and more. Though finally I must confess: Short and sweet, reading about Mr. Standring is visiting you again, makes me somehow really jealous…but maybe you can say Hallo to him for me??…. 😉


  14. […] didn’t answer this message. My mother was diagnosed with cancer again. I fell dreadfully behind on correspondence. Otherfan was kind enough to write again to inquire […]


  15. […] seems so strange to me that I got through all the negative feeling from the summer without losing my writing rhythm, and here I am, again, losing it. All that pain and I kept myself open and feeling it and it was […]


  16. […] I was having them last summer, already, but I was afraid to cop to them all the way. It’s funny because I was thinking of Standring at that time as well, and those fantasies I managed to write down. Funny how imagining sex with Richard Armitage ends up seeming less odd than imagining other quotidian stuff with Standring. […]


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