#i imagine me sitting on that piano in a beautiful dress

[abeautifulrayofsunshine]

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Alastor - [ DEVOTION Pt. 4 ]

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A/N: This is all angst and fluff because I'm working on two other smut fics. Please accept this impromptu filler chapter for now (I'm sorry ❤️). I hope you enjoy it anyway.

WARNINGS: [ SFW ] + [ SLIGHTLY MATURE THEMES ] + [ FLUFF ] + [ ANGST ]

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You waited patiently for Alastor, standing at the window, admiring the fading moon as the sun's rays gradually inked the sky. It’d been a longer night than you imagined, but you felt energized rather than overtly exhausted.

You supposed that's what having a child felt like: tiring but never lacking excitement. A smile crept onto your face at the thought, heart racing at the image of a small hand wrapping around your finger and the possible jingle of childish laughter following the gesture. It was all you could think about.

Would they resemble you or Alastor more?

A boy or maybe a girl?

Twins?… Oh, twins would be so extraordinary but troublesome!

Oh, who am I to complain… they'd be just as lovely as Alastor.

You jumped from one thought to the next, unable to keep track of your puzzling emotions but deciding your only concern should be the present. With a steadying breath, you gazed around the room, searching for something to do or a task to occupy yourself with since sleep failed you. The room was spotless besides your belongings, which you'd already reorganized after stealing one of Alastors dress shirts to replace your blood-stained nightgown. There was a bookshelf full of various stories tucked into a corner near an old rocking chair, and the idea of reading to relax didn't seem terrible.

“A good story can be grand entertainment…”

Your father coined the phrase and always followed it with an unbelievable bedtime reading. Those nights filled with his storytelling were your fondest childhood memories, and you considered passing the sentiment onto your child. You imagined Alastor more prone to telling bedtime stories; he had the charisma, the soothing voice for it, and you had no doubt they'd become attached to him doing so.

Your smile grew wider, getting ahead of itself as you waltzed over to the tall mahogany bookshelf. “Hm…what shall we read, little one?” you placed a hand on your stomach, gently rubbing circles against it as your other grazed the worn book spines. Each title caught your eye, all ranging in subject but consistent with what Alastor told you about his mother's efforts to advance his literacy.

“Some might say she willed proper speech out of me, but I wouldn't be where I am now without such vigorous practice…”

He was far from wrong; your father had educated you similarly, claiming that despite young women of the time being expected to rely on their beauty, you'd advance farther with brains.

“Let's see..” you mumbled aloud, reading a few titles to narrow your decision, “…perhaps Penny Dreadful? No, The Grim Brothers Tales’?..” A soft giggle left your lips as you considered how ridiculous you sounded speaking aloud, but it couldn't be helped. You were longing to talk, to shout with joy, but resisted the urge in fear of causing a minor disturbance.

Finally, a book held your attention, not as worn as the others but fairly withered. “Alice in Wonderland shall do.” You pricked it from the shelf, sitting in the rocking chair while opening its front cover. The words on each page were familiar, immersive as intended, and for a few quiet moments, you thought of nothing but its premise as you whispered nonsensical sentences in their written order.

Time passed quicker than you thought; by the third chapter, you heard the bedroom door creak open, and in stepped a refreshed Alastor. You beamed a coy smile his way as he shut the door behind him, returning your smile with tired eyes while walking over to you, “Mornin’ darlin’..”

“Good morning, mon cher. You look much better.” you muse as he leans down to kiss your head, “Thank you, sweetheart. Once I get some rest, I might feel better as well.” He doesn't stand up fully, content with being at eye level with you to converse, and you unconsciously blush from the intensity of his gaze. Strands of his hair were curled into its natural waves, dripping with tiny water droplets, slithering down his mocha skin with every breath he took. It was a miracle his glasses didn't fog up, resting neatly on his face and doing nothing but accentuating his piercing brown eyes.

You could get lost in his stare; that ocean of amber took your breath away effortlessly, and you wondered if the trait would pass on to your child.

Indeed, it would… surely he'd love it.

A lump formed in your throat as anxious excitement built in your chest. You needed to tell him calmly, but the longer you waited, the more you wanted to hide away.

Did he want this?

“I’d love you and our child more than anything…”

He'd said it himself, but it was hard for you to deny that Alastor was very vague with his genuine emotions. Even as his wife, you found him hard to read

There was only one way for you to find out, and stalling wouldn't solve anything. Alastor studied your expression as you thought, perceptive to the minor changes in your mood, “My dear, are you alright?” he asked firmly. You perk up, nodding slowly while clutching the book to your chest, “I-Im, I'm fine... It's just that I have to tell you something rather delicate..”

Alastor raised a brow, watching as you bit your lip and stared at your lap, “The news you alluded to earlier this evening?” His eyes narrow, glinting with prowess as he ponders the possibilities of your announcement.

With a heavy sigh, you nod again, shutting the book before placing it in your lap, gripping it tight with one hand as the other instinctively rests on your stomach. You feel his gaze shift from your face, fixated on your abdomen, as you stumble out an explanation.

“I. Well, I'm… “ you cut yourself off when words fail, reaching for his hand gently, placing it over your own as a nervous smile adorns your face.

Oh…does she mean to say?…

Alastor froze as the warmth of your skin settled against his palm, rising and falling in a gentle pattern as you willed yourself to breathe normally while gauging his reaction. His shadows quivered in the darkness of the room, able to hear two faint heartbeats underneath the drum of your own, and the definitive sound brought a grin to his face.

It seems she's given us exactly what we hoped for. Twice the yield as well.

How delightful.

Alastor knelt before you, placing both hands on your stomach, eyes soft with affection as he finally voiced his thoughts.

“My darling wife is going to be a mother..” pride laced his tone as he averted his gaze to yours, grin ever present as you nodded excitedly with a bright smile, “And you're going to be father..” you whisper.

Your words drifted quietly in the air, sinking into Alastor’s consciousness and stirring his specters into a giddy frenzy.

My wife is having my children…

Mine and only mine.

A laugh rippled in his chest as the possessive thought invaded his mind, growing stronger as he heard your delighted giggles join his. “Come here, darlin’…” Alastor lifted you with one gentle tug on your wrists, catching you in his arms as your feet hovered off the ground. “Alastor!” you yelped excitedly, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt and laughing more as he pecked your lips tenderly. You hummed into the passionate kiss, arms locking around his neck as you kicked a foot up gingerly. He tasted like mint, calm, and refreshing. A welcomed contrast to the waning heat you felt as your nerves winded down.

He was pleased to know, which filled your heart with relief.

——- ——- ———

“Oh, my stars! Al! Y/n! I'm overjoyed for you both!” Rosie shot up from her seat, dress flowing as she glided around the coffee table to squeeze you in a tight hug as you set out the platter of sweets you'd finished baking moments ago. “Thank you, Rosie. I still can't believe it myself,” you blushed as she squealed, drawing back a bit to cup your face with both hands; her eyes sparkled with admiration as she looked between you and Alastor -who sat comfortably in an armchair. He hadn't stopped grinning since your return home from the countryside, rambling on and on to his mother about the news until the last minute, and he insisted on telling Rosie as soon as you stepped foot in New Orleans again. She was his long-time friend, after all, yours as well, by extension, and so you didn't mind revealing the news to her. Just as his mother felt like your own, Rosie filled the space of an older sister for you. She was energetic, fashionable, and constantly aware of everyone's lives.

She was a true gossip girl, but you enjoyed her company more than others.

“Al, you devil! You could've waited another year to knock my dearest friend up! Now, who will I take out on the town?..” She huffed dramatically but couldn't hold her frown as you giggled softly while he waved a hand dismissively. “I'm sure you'll survive, my dear.” he quips. Rosie rolls her eyes, returning his nonchalant gesture with an equally smug smirk, “I suppose you're right. Although, my nights out won't be as thrilling anymore with you gone being a new father and such, Al.”

He sat straighter. You happened to catch the slightest frown on his face at Rosie’s comment, but it vanished when he felt your eyes on him. “I'll accompany you on occasion when time allows it.” His response is politely chaste, and one might deem it disappointing.

Was he bothered by the notion of having less time with Rosie?

You knew they ventured to socialite parties together regularly, something they'd done long before you married him, but you never questioned it since Rosie assured you it was their fun hobby. Still, you felt concerned that Alastor could regret the idea of children if it meant a less spontaneous party going with his oldest friend.

You opened your mouth to say something, stepping towards where he sat, but Rosie grabbed your hands and whisked you away to sit on the plush sofa with her. “We must discuss everything Y/n. Having a child is no small feat, and I know Al won't spare any expense.” She grinned, squeezing your hands gently, and you smiled back at her before sparing your husband a curious glance. “He spoils me too much already, so I think he'll naturally do the same for the baby,” a soft laugh floated from you, and he tipped his head reassuringly while pulling out his pocket watch to check the time. “Whatever their little heart desires, I shall give,” he replies calmly, standing to his feet and gazing between you and Rosie. “It's about time I head on over to the station. I don't suppose you’ll be leaving anytime soon, Rosie?”

You checked the grandfather clock that stood against the adjacent wall, noticing it was nearly time for his broadcast to begin, “Seems we lost track of time.” you smiled apologetically at Alastor. He shook his head while chuckling, “It's not your fault, darling. I got caught up listening to this one ramble,” he gestured to Rosie before walking over to the parlor room coat stand. He pricked his preferred overcoat, slipping it on quickly as she glared at his back. “Is that any way to speak of your child’s future honorary aunt and godmother!” she faked a skeptical look to which you feigned concern, “Oh, my dear Rosie, he didn't mean it, I swear!”

Alastor turned on his heel, biting back a more comprehensive smile as he admired the two of you carrying on, “I will not apologize for telling the truth, ma chère, but Rosie does have the privilege of godmother so that for I will ask for her forgiveness.” he stood behind the sofa, leaning down a bit to kiss you once then twice before pulling away with a content hum.

Rosie watched the sweet exchange, able to separate the manic version of Alastor she killed from the doting husband he was in your presence, proud to see him so controlled and happy. He pulled away from you, adoring the glimmer in your eyes as you reached a hand up to adjust his glasses, “I love you,” you whisper, and he blanks for a moment, hearing the endearing phrase.

Love…is that what this is?…

Would it be so wrong to say it back?…

A flash of vulnerability crosses Alastor’s face, and you're tempted to take your words back, but he beats you to speak. “Je t'aime aussi..” he mutters back, stepping away to bid Rosie a proper goodbye, “Take good care of her while I'm gone.” he kisses her cheek, and she swats his arm, “Oh, you know I will. Now run along before you're late!” He heads to her, scolding her out the door in seconds, leaving you in her company.

“I thought he'd never leave,” Rosie chirps, glad to have some privacy to speak with you and eager to get down to the details you had to tell. “Tell me, how do you feel, honey? I know this all might be terrifying you…” she spoke softly, pricking a freshly baked cookie from the platter you set out, and you nodded timidly in agreement while fidgeting with your hands.

“I'm scared, yes, but not of being a mother. You know I've always wanted to be one. It was my biggest dream when I came of age, and I'm glad it's coming true with Al..” You rested a hand on your stomach, feeling it flip at the mention of him, and luckily, no urge to throw up followed.

Thank goodness for Angelique and her tonics!

She'd given you a case of vials to take home, all containing a special brew made by her hand, and she'd given you a strict regimen for consuming them.

“Drink two of these twice daily, morning and evening, but only take it after you've eaten. Have Alastor phone me when you need more..”

Whatever was given had a wonderous effect on your mood, reduced your fatigue, and calmed your nerves. You were grateful for her assistance, but not everything you felt could be cured with medicine.

You hoped Rosie would understand, could help calm what the tonics couldn't, so as she peered at you curiously and asked, “What's the matter, dearest?” you inevitably blurted out your worst and only fear.

“I'm afraid of how Alastor will be as a father..”

She blinked, taken aback by your confession, but it didn't show on her face. “May I ask why?”

You hesitated, fidgeting with your hands again as you thought of what to say, but Rosie rested a hand on yours to still them in a gentle grip. “Y/n, it's alright, be honest. He may have been my closest companion initially, but you are my truest friend in this moment. I'm here to listen, not to criticize. He won't hear a word of it, I swear.”

You glanced between your conjoined hands and her kind smile, and after debating whether or not to spill your heart out, you decided it wouldn't hurt to express your doubts.

You could trust Rosie. Right?…

“Well, I know he wants children. He recently told me so, but it's how he'll receive them. Alastor is a complex man, we both know that, but I fear that complexity will make it hard for him to…to..” you tried to phrase the last of your concerns gently, unsure if what you said made any sense to her, but Rosie merely smiled before finishing the thought for you.

“You're afraid he won't show them love?..”

You nod, heart clenching at the thought, “Yes. I know how his childhood went; I was there through it all, so I know his father wasn't the best man. I know what he put his mother through and Alastor hates the idea of becoming like him..”

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, beginning to tear up as memories of Alastor coming to you in the dead of night, bruised and battered but stoic as ever as he asked to sleep next to you in your bed. He'd never tell you what happened, where his father was, or if he'd been majorly injured. You'd have to coax information out of him, promise him that you'd never betray his safety, or tell your father what went on in his family. Then and only then would he relax, let you mend his scars before huddling under the thick covers with you, and though you were both exhausted, you'd whisper stories aloud to each other until the sun peeked through the trees.

It felt odd to wish for times like that to return; they all resorted from darker places, but it brought you two closer. You were able to understand Alastor to an extent most speculated of. With all the insight into his life, you hoped the irrational fears you felt would wither away, but after the incident at his mother's, they just worsened.

It felt as if he were hiding something from you.

At first, the notion piqued your curiosity, but now it ate away at your conscience.

What was he withholding from you, and did you need or want to know more?

Logic voted ‘yes,’ but your trusting nature leaned towards ‘no.’

“He won't ever be like him. I'm sure, but he's only recently expressed he cares for me. Truly loves me, so I suppose I'm afraid of that same affection not being openly expressed to our little one as well.”

Rosie nodded, scooting closer and giving you a tight side hug to calm your frazzled state. “My dear, you have every right to fear such a thing. However, if I may vouch for Alastor, I do believe his softer side will show itself for your child.” You peered at her, hope in your eyes, “Really? You think so?..”

She grins, “I am certain of it! He cherishes you like no other! Unlike my husband, yours is a dime and a man who'd kill for you if necessary.”

You blush, surprised by her claim, “I don't think he'd kill for me, Rosie, but I understand the sentiment.” She scoffs, hand rubbing your shoulders, and retorts, “Yes, he would, and he'd show the same devotion to your bundle of joy.”

Her statement soothed your worries, but the seriousness in her tone made your heart skip a beat.

It felt as though she did know he'd kill for you…kill for your child.

A shiver racked your body at the thought.

I hope it never comes to that…

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What do you guys think of the story so far? I'm just curious to hear your thoughts and theories.❤️

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

He may be a monster, but at least he's dedicated to it; morally grey, but honest to his silly little murderous behaviors ❤️ credits to the creator

[bellesdreamyprofile]

earth angel - 1973 elvis

summary: 1973 elvis, meeting elvis for the first time - not accurate description of graceland (the song earth angel by elvis is available on spotify, and let me tell you that it's the best thing I´ve listened this week)

You first met Elvis at one of the numerous parties he hosted at Graceland. Your friend Julie was a friend of a friend of a member of the Mafia - nevertheless, a friend who still had the honour to be invited.

Books, soft music and warm drinks made you who you were. You weren’t one for fancy things, nor did you express a desire for them. Getting ready for a Graceland party wasn’t a particularly easy task, but you still managed to find a little dark blue dress that made your hair and eyes stand out. Little heels to match and off you went with Julie.

Once you were both standing in front of the mansion, your lips parted as you looked up with big, curious eyes. Your eyes filled up with salty tears, though you blinked them away quickly. This beautiful place was not there to cause tears or sorrow - laughter, smiles and silly jokes were Graceland’s signature experiences.

“Imagine meeting Elvis.”, your head snapped towards your friend, noticing she was still admiring the structure.

You let out a little chuckle and shook your head. “I’m happy even just standing here, honestly.”

Julie hummed and moved her eyes on another pair of girls entering the mansion. “You know, they say that Elvis doesn’t even come out of his bedroom during parties like these. Or he’s around and you don’t know it. Isn’t that crazy?”

Oh, to catch a glimpse of the King.

“Yeah, it really is.”, you said almost dreamily.

Julie quickly locked her arm with yours and started moving forward. “Alright, let’s go. I don’t wanna be the last one to come in.”

As soon as you stepped in, the sweet melody of laughter hit your ears. Champagne glasses clinking and soft piano playing in the background.

You peeked at the sound of the instrument and noticed three men playing and singing. Julie tapped your arm, pointing at a couple sitting by the couch.

“Look, that’s Mary. You know, she’s friends with Elliott who’s friends with Red.”, she explained swiftly, making you hum and nod. “Let’s go say hello quickly.”

And you did go say hello, but it looked like Mary and Julie had known each other for years. There were no topics you could relate to, so you decided to stand up and excuse yourself.

“I’m gonna do some rounds. See if I recognize anybody.”, Julie waved you off with a smile, making you sigh and walk away. Also, who were you going to recognize? The local baker?

But you still got to walk around and smile at anybody who smiled at you kindly. You refused the flute of champagne and grabbed the strawberry juice on the kitchen counter instead.

“Mr Presley— Ops. My apologies, miss. I thought it was Mr Presley.”, a maid stopped your actions in a soft tone.

Heat arose to your cheeks as you set the carafe back on the counter. “I’m so sorry. I-I should’ve asked—“

“Don’t apologize, child.”, she laughed a little. “Strawberry juice is Mr Presley’s favourite. Just thought it was him sneaking around.”, another chuckle escaped her lips. “We leave ‘em around the house.”

You nodded and smiled a little at the anecdote. “That’s sweet.”, you said softly and moved your gaze down. “I, uh, I’ll get going… Sorry again.”, the kind maid let you know once more that it had been no problem at all.

A deep breath fell from your lips as you walked away from the kitchen. A set of stairs that seemed to lead to a den caught your attention. You looked around and quickly realized that the crowd had officially moved to the living room. You were all alone. A quick peek wouldn’t hurt, though, right?

With the humiliation of that strawberry juice in your hand, you quickly found out that the stairs were leading to another corridor. One massive glass separated the corridor from the actual room. The sight of the green and gold, the animal prints and various instruments, made you audibly gasp.

Another look was thrown over your shoulder as you debated whether or not to step in and take a further look around the living space.

When’s another chance gonna come?

Without thinking about it twice, your hand caught the doorhandle and pushed it open. The faint smell of cigarettes lingered in the air, but knowing that the King could’ve been the one smoking, you sighed in comfort.

In the back there was a piano, significantly smaller than the one in the living room upstairs. But you decided to roll the dice and test your luck. You set the juice on the small table to your right and sat down on the stool.

Goosebumps covered your skin at the leather against your bare skin. Your back was to the door as suddenly you were aware that anybody could’ve walked in and get you banned from the property.

The realization didn’t seem to stop your fingers from dancing on the white keys.

“Earth Angel, Earth Angel

The one I adore

Love you forever and ever”

Your voice was as soft as the beautiful song was. A tape of thoughts from the day you first listened to the song played in front of your eyes. Your eyes closed as you were thrown back to the 50’s.

“I’m just a fool

A fool in love with you”

Your eyes snapped open and your heartbeat picked up. That hadn’t been your voice.

Your fingers ceased playing and you set your hands on your lap.

“Why’d you stop playin’, honey?”

Your lips parted at the voice and your eyes squeezed shut as the realization started settling in. Your voice couldn’t be trusted for a reply. Suddenly, you felt a warm touch on your back, a hand turning the stool in the opposite direction.

Your eyes still shut, but you could feel the gaze on your face.

A laugh. Oh, how you wanted to melt in place.

“Open your eyes, honey, please.”, a warm request, almost in a teasing tone. But you shook your head, your chin almost tucked to your chest.

“Aw, honey. I ain’t that ugly I promise.”

Those were the words that triggered your eyes. A man like that to be called ugly even only as a joke felt like a crime.

“Ah, there they are! Them pretty, little eyes.”, your gaze still set low, noticing slippers covering the King’s feet. And then he did the most unexpected thing. He pulled up the material clinging to his thighs and crouched down in front of you. Your eyes immediately finding the electric blue in his.

“Wow…”, your voice was a mere whisper, making him chuckle. If you had looked at him longer, you would’ve noticed the faint blush on his cheeks.

“I’m Elvis, honey.”, he said in a light tone. “And what’s the name of the pretty little thing playing piano in the Jungle Room?”

Your eyes lifted up to meet his again. “I’m Y/N. I’m sorry Mr—“

“Elvis. Mr Presley is my daddy.”

You nodded quickly as you thought you were in trouble for invading his personal space.

“I’m sorry, Elvis. It’s just that— Julie was talking to Mary and they’ve known each other for years and I couldn’t just jump in the conversation—“

Elvis smiled at you, already knowing where your words were going to lead. But he wanted to hear you say it.

“And then I stumbled in the kitchen for the juice, because I don’t drink— And then I found the stairs and, uh, now I’m here.”, you finished, utterly flushed with embarrassment. Elvis nodded and huffed.

“Quite the journey for a little honey like you, no?”, Elvis tilted his head to get a better look at you and felt his heartbeat speed up.

“I-I guess.”, your cheeks were now a rich cherry-red colour. You couldn’t hold his piercing gaze, so your eyes found comfort on the rings adorning his fingers.

“What do you say we sing another song, honey? Just you and I?”, at his request, your lips parted as you wordlessly nodded.

That was the song that sealed you two together. And the rest is history.

A/N: cutie pie - like chapter. soft reader and sassy/loving elvis are my all time favorite. if you have any requests, don't hesitate to let me know!

MASTERLIST

[bouncybongfairy]

Caught Dead

The Creature x Fem Reader

Summary: Your homecoming date leaves you for another girl. On your sad and drunk walk home, you come across a memorial service for a Victorian man. Honoring his music, you wander in and play a score he wrote. The creature is so moved by your playing, he comes back from the dead and witnesses your talent first hand.

Word Count: 1.0k+

TW: Tooth Rotting Fluff

Not Proof Read

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Usually homecoming is a night that everyone raves about. Prom is always so pretentious and stressful. Whereas homecoming was more carefree; at least that’s how it’s depicted in romance novels and fanfiction. The guy you were originally going with ended up ditching you for another girl. Your best friend was with her boyfriend and third wheeling wasn’t something you're interested in. The best course of action was to walk home, stopping at a liquor store on the way. The old woman behind the counter looked you up and down, this didn’t offend you though. Mascara stained tears left streaks of gray lined down your face. Wearing a big pink dress that you used to feel really good in. Now it felt more like a cone of shame, drawing attention to what a hot mess you were. 

“Can I please get a dutch honey and small bottle of Skol,” you ask, setting a twenty dollar bill on the counter. 

“Normally I would laugh and send you away. You’re lucky I only have fifteen minutes until I clock out and how pathetic you look right now,” she said, taking your money and bagging the items. 

Even though it was a little back handed, you were grateful for her kindness. Chasing the vodka down with cigarettes as you walked. Humming tunes to yourself, enjoying the crisp night air. The sound of classical music caught your attention, a funeral home. It was one of the only places that had its doors open still. You sit outside on the steps, gutting your wrap before rolling the blunt. 

“Were you coming in?” a voice came from the doorway. 

“Oh um, yeah just give me a second,” you say.

“Take your time,” the older gentleman gave you a warm smile before heading back inside. 

You tucked the blunt behind your ear, shoving the half empty bottle into your purse before walking in. It wasn’t an open casket funeral but more of a memorial service. There was a piano in the corner of the room, a vase of red roses sitting on top of the beautiful wood. The funeral director explained that a bunch of this young man’s music was recently discovered. A museum recently bought the music and discovered he was never given a proper funeral so they wandered to give him a proper memorial. 

To honor him and the beautiful scores that were never showcased the way they deserved. Apparently the party from the museum didn’t stay for long, the director said they mostly took pictures for their website. After reading more about his story, you felt more connected to him. Apparently his girl left him for another man. Similar to what happened at the dance tonight. Grabbing one of the scores and sitting at the piano. It could be because you were drunk but as the sorrowful melody filled the room tears pricked into your eyes again. Imagining how his feelings of betrayal and grief probably poured through his pen while writing this song. 

Not being able to shake the fact that you just learned first hand how being left can feel. Bitter because deep down your biggest fear for the night came true; lonely from being too embarrassed to admit you were someone's second choice. Tears rolling down your face as you let yourself drown in sorrow. Unbenounced to you, The Creature not only heard his music so beautifully remastered but your cries. So moved by feeling and hearing your broken heart crying from your chest, he begins to stir. Pushing himself out of the ground and making his way towards the music. 

Lighting your blunt inside the room, you were tipsy and didn’t care if there were repercussions. Letting it hang off your lips and you played, trying not to let the smoke in your eyes. Meanwhile the creature was getting hung up on the mechanics of his body. Slowly stumbling towards the illuminated building, stopping dead in his tracks once seeing you. The light above the ceiling was casting down on you. Highlighting your eyelashes and flyaways, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. How expressive your face was while playing the notes, looking up every once to let tears run down your face. Showing how the mascara ran down your neck.  His daze was broken once he saw the worker coming back in the room, pointing his finger and yelling. This enraged him; stomping over there to stop the man from approaching you. Having some trouble with the stairs but after finally made his way in. 

Grabbing the sides of his old man's head and snapping his neck. You gasp, the blunt dropping out of your mouth and onto the floor. Going to pick it up but being taken back but The Creature. He stepped over the body and slowly inched towards you. You pull your knees up to your chest and press your back against the wall. He was now hovering over you, staring at you before leaning down. Getting on one knee and picking up the blunt, standing back up. 

Now closer, his lower stomach pressed against your knees. Putting the dutch between your lips with one hand and brushing the hair out of your eyes with the other. You put your knees down and pulled him onto the bench. Starting to play his score, focusing on keys and not his… appearance. As you played he grunted at a specific measure every time which led you to investigate why, 

“What? This part?” you replayed it a couple times. He pointed out a certain note and then to another, shifting his finger back and forth. In your interpretation, he was prompting you to switch the notes. Him humming in satisfaction at the change. 

“Yeah that does sound a lot smoother,” you point out. 

Remembering the body, you both leave in order to avoid responsibility. Walking home together, playing your music out loud for him to enjoy. Before the dark felt scary and daunting but now you were enjoying the night air. Completely ignorant to reality but never feeling better. 

[avatar-anna]

Love on Tour: The Documentary

we all know harry is working on a documentary, so this is my take on how young dad!harry would approach it!

Young dad!Harry x Young mom!Reader universe

and now a little key:

bold and italics: camera directions, or what you would be seeing as a viewer of the documentary in person

just italics: interviewer questions, or people who are speaking off camera

Part 2 Part 3

Harry jogs off stage, his mask wrapped securely around his ears as he leaves the sounds of thousands of screams behind. Even so, his squinted eyes make it obvious that he’s smiling. He walks into his dressing room and shuts the door with a soft click and immediately starts to change out of his concert outfit. After shimmying into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, Harry grabs his phone and sits down on the couch.

“Hi, Mama.”

“Hi, baby. How was the show?”

"Amazing. I feel like we get better with each performance."

"Aw, H. I'm so happy for you!"

Harry grins at his phone while resting his chin on his hand. "Missed seeing you. Missed seeing all of you."

"We're so proud of you, baby. No matter how far away we are," the voice on the other side of Harry's phone says. "In other news, the bub has been quite active today."

"Yeah?" Harry says, and his demeanor immediately visibly brightens. "Hope she's not giving you too much trouble."

"We don't know if it's a she, H."

"I do. I have a sixth sense for these types of things."

Cut to Harry sitting in an empty room for his interview.

“So, why did you decide to talk about all of this now?”

Harry rubs his chin as he ponders the question. “I think…I think it’s hard not to. When I think back on my career, I think about how old Simone was or how Jules had just begun walking or sneaking to a courthouse to get married. My family is a part of my life and has been a part of most of my career. My kids, my wife...they mean everything to me, and I—I know it sounds kind of crazy, but I can’t imagine my life, my career any differently. I wouldn’t want to do this without my family.”

The camera cuts to a series of home videos—Y/n and Harry sharing a kiss in a courthouse, members of One Direction celebrating around them, a toddler in Harry’s lap as he plays the piano, Y/n on a tour bus with a small bundle in her arms, Harry catching a little girl as she jumps into a pool, a little girl with dark curls playing with all members of One Direction backstage at a concert venue, Harry asleep on a hotel bed with his face covered in play makeup, a three year old sleeping next to him.

“Should we start with when you met Y/n?”

His grin is immediate. “I was seventeen years old.”

Harry’s voice becomes a voice over as clips of him and the members of One Direction film their music video for What Makes You Beautiful. 

“It sounds cheesy, but I’ve always thought it was fate that we met. Her friend was an extra in the video, and she happened to tag along. I was immediately taken with her. We got along really well and talked long after I left LA.”

The camera cuts back to Harry.

“Just talked?”

Harry blushes. “Obviously not, but I’m a gentleman. All I’ll say is, kids, understand the importance of practicing protected sex.”

A cut to a similar room where Y/n sits.

“He said that? My husband, everybody.”

Everyone behind the studio laughs with her.

“So you got pregnant.”

Y/n nods. “Oh yeah.”

“Was there ever a moment where you didn’t want to tell Harry?”

“It definitely crossed my mind. We were so young and we didn’t see each other very often in the grand scheme of things. No one ever expects something like this to happen to them, but it happened to us.”

Back to Harry.

“I was terrified. Mostly terrified to tell my mum, but it…it changed everything. Here I was thinking my life had already changed drastically with the band, and then Y/n is pregnant.”

The camera cuts to Anne’s interview.

“I mean, I think the possibility is in the back of parent’s mind,” she says, shaking her head a little. “But you raise your children to be smart and responsible and hope for the best.”

“How did that conversation go when Harry told you?”

“He was practically crying over the phone, which made me…less angry, which isn’t even the right word, I don’t think. Poor Harry was so scared, and all I kept thinking was, ‘I send my son to Hollywood and a few months later he gets some girl pregnant.’ I didn’t even know he was dating Y/n.”

“You didn’t?”

“No, so that made the whole thing even more surprising. But he kept saying, ‘Mum, she’s not just some girl. She’s really special.’ Things like that. But I won’t lie, it was a lot to digest.”

Back to Y/n.

“What was it like meeting Anne for the first time?”

“Oh God,” Y/n says. “Mortifying. I was already showing when we met, which made the whole thing that much worse. We couldn’t even pretend we were meeting under normal ‘meet your boyfriend’s mom for the first time’ circumstances. But she was really nice. She asked how I was feeling and helped me get set up with the right doctors. She made me feel welcome, which I appreciated.”

Back to Harry.

“Her parents weren’t as supportive as mine, and she was feeling kind of isolated and overwhelmed, so I convinced my mum to let Y/n live with her.”

Back to Y/n.

“You lived with Harry’s mother?”

Y/n nods and smiles at the camera. “It felt like the right thing to do at the time, and I stand by it. Things were really tense at home, and I just thought it would be a little easier going through everything with people who were completely on board.” Y/n shrugs. “I was young and scared and needed a maternal figure. I tried to think of it as going off to college.”

“But no one had a clue about any of this.”

Back to Harry.

Harry shakes his head. “My management at the time wanted to make this go away as quickly as possible. They tried to pay Y/n off so she wouldn’t contact me again or say anything about it.”

“Really?”

Back to Y/n.

“Yeah, but I told them to shove their offer up their asses. It wasn’t nearly as much as I would’ve gotten from child support, first of all.”

“Did you ever consider taking the offer?”

“Of course I did. I had to consider all my options.” Y/n is quiet for a moment and doesn’t look at the camera. “I eventually decided to stay with Harry and have the baby, but, you know, I had my whole life ahead of me. Both of us did.”

Back to Harry.

“Did you know about that?”

“The payoff? Yeah, she told me shortly after. As for the other stuff…I knew. And I would’ve respected whatever decision she made. But when she decided to keep the baby and keep me in her life, I told management they would have to figure something else out, and keeping her and the pregnancy was their solution.”

“What was it like to be in One Direction while having a baby at home?”

“Strange,” Harry says. “Like, some of the best moments of my life were in the band, but then I would get a text from Y/n and it would be a picture of Simone in the bathtub covered in bubbles, and I would want to be there all of a sudden.”

A series of videos and photographs of Harry and Y/n in 2012 appear. In hotel rooms, backstage at One Direction concerts, homes. With each image, Y/n’s baby bump grows.

(Voiceover) “It was this weird mix of having so much fun and feeling bad when I realized Y/n was at home by herself with a newborn. She’s never blamed me or never asked me to stop what I was doing, but this tiny seed of guilt was always in the back of my mind.

A video of a young Harry and Y/n appears. They seem to be in a dressing room. Y/n lays against Harry while his hand rests on her baby bump. Y/n looks up at Harry and smiles, and he smiles back before he looks up and realizes they’re being filmed. “Oi! Get out of here, Louis!” Louis laughs from behind the camera and says, “You’ll thank me later!”

“We were faced with a lot of decisions, none of them easy. And sneaking around had its drawbacks, especially when my management team wanted me to start doing all the fake dating and stuff.”

Harry stops talking, as if recalling a memory, but he doesn’t share it. “But one thing was easy at least. When we first met, we bonded over our love for Nina Simone. When Y/n suggested it, it just sounded right.”

Back to Harry in his dressing room.

“How is everyone?” he asks Y/n over the phone.

“I have four little monkeys that should be asleep, but they wanted to say goodnight first.”

Harry’s grin widens as a chorus of hellos echoes from his phone. From a different angle over his shoulder, four faces can be seen on his screen. “Hi, hi, hi, hi. Are you all being good for your mumma?”

“Dada!”

“Where are you?”

“How was the show?”

“Hi my loves. The show went really, really great. I miss you all so much,” Harry says.

“When are you coming home, Dada?”

“Soon, Maeve, I promise. Just a couple more nights and I’ll be home.”

“Can we get ice cream when you come home?”

Harry laughs. “Yes, peanut, we can get ice cream. Now go to sleep. It’s past your bedtime.”

There’s lots of protesting from the four children on the phone, but one voice pipes up above the rest. “Can you sing us a song?”

“Of course, JuJu. How could I forget? What would you like?”

Back to Harry’s interview.

“So, how many kids do you have now?”

“I am a proud father of six. Five girls, one boy, one set of twins.”

“Full house then.”

Harry nods and makes a mock-exasperated sigh. “Oh yeah.”

“What’s that like?”

“There’s never a dull moment, that’s for sure. Y/n’s the real marvel, though. I don’t know how she does it.”

Back to Y/n.

“I’m not gonna lie, there are times where I don’t even feel like a person, but Harry works just as hard to give our family the life we have. And he’s an incredible dad. He’ll come home from tour, clearly exhausted, and he’ll still be the first one out of bed to get the kids ready for school and make breakfast and change diapers. I mean, the man doesn’t stop.”

“You’re a team, then.”

Y/n smiles. “Yeah. We’re a team. All eight of us.”

“Did you see yourself ever having six kids?”

“I mean...technically we were supposed to stop at four.”

“So what happened?”

Y/n sighs and shakes her head exasperatedly. “The pandemic happened.”

A home video begins to play in the Styles’ living room. Harry is filming and Y/n is in front of it with her hands behind her back.

“Alright. Tell me why the camera’s out, Mama. Where are the kids?”

“They’re building a pillow fort for us in our room, but first…I  have a surprise for you.”

Y/n leans past the camera to give him a small gift bag. Crinkling is heard as Harry pulls tissue paper out of the bag. “Are you serious?”

Y/n nods, a large grin on her face. “I’m about six weeks along.”

Harry laughs, and the camera wobbles as he rushes over to Y/n to pick her up. Their giggles and cheers of excitement can be heard offscreen.

“We’re having a baby!” Harry says.

Back to Harry.

“Are you gonna go for lucky number seven?”

Harry scratches the back of his head. “Currently up for debate. The missus is apprehensive, but I think I’m wearing her down.

Back to Y/n

Y/n scoffs and shakes her head. “He can keep on dreaming.”

“So you’ve had this discussion before?”

“It’s…been mentioned once or twice. But any time he brings it up I threaten him with no sex for two weeks. Am I allowed to say that?”

Back to Harry.

Harry opens his mouth to speak when a small hand tugs on his shirt. Looking down, he smiles. Harry bends down and picks up a little girl. For privacy reasons, her face is blurred. She wraps her arms around his neck so she’s in his lap and her back is facing the camera.

“I’m hungry,” the little girl says in what can only be described as a “monster voice.”

Matching her tone, Harry asks, “What would you like, GiGi?”

“Grilled cheese.”

Harry shakes his head and kisses GiGi’s temple. He covers the microphone clipped on his shirt so he can talk to his daughter privately. With another kiss, he lets go of the mic. “You got it.” Harry shrugs at the camera with a smile. To the camera, he says, “Can we finish this later? Duty calls.”

[sage-green-matcha]

NO TIME TO DIE - JACK CHAMPION 🌬️

Grammy and Brits winner Y/n Y/l/n meets with Jack Champion for a night full of flirting and awards ;)

Content Includes: flirting, singing, awards show, idk you just being famous and successful 💅

A/n: gonna be gone for a day or two so here’s a longer oneshot for y’all!! <33

<3

<3

<3

“You ready?” You shook uncomfortably in your black dress, the material heavy as you dragged it around. “I’m scared, this is the fucking Oscar’s what if I trip over the dress?” You frowned, a blush brush now on your face. “You look great, you’re gonna do fine” You couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were gonna suck. You couldn’t believe that you were here. Sure you’d been to the Grammys and the Brits but the Oscars? Never in a million years did you imagine that you’d be here.

You were nominated for best original song and you also had a small role in handing out awards. That you weren’t nervous for, but performing in front of hundreds of amazing actors, that scared the shit out of you. You were one of the youngest nominees here, besides Jack Champion. Who you might’ve developed a small crush on during the event practice.

“I’m scared, I’m gonna vomit” You felt sick, nervous, all of the above. “Take a deep breath, warm up your voice. You’ll be fine, you always do amazing” You furrowed your eyebrows, singing a random melody as you waited at the side of the stage. The curtain was closed, it was only till the song started that you had to be faced with the hundreds of faces of popular actors, and a balcony full of fans.

“Okay, it’s go time” You looked at the orchestra as you walked across the stage, sitting down on a stool that they had for you. Your team followed, fixing your hair and applying more gloss to your lips to make sure you’d look amazing. Your stomach bubbled with anxiety, fixing your earpiece as someone handed you the mic.

“James Bond films are an indelible part of our cinematic history. Legendary Franchise has produced six Oscar-nominated songs including the title track from our film “No Time to Die” The curtain was drawn open, eyes luckily not on you. It was dark, a small smile coming from your pianists, giving you a sense of security.

“With this exquisite and haunting piece, our next performer has captured the feeling of this film in ways that could only be expressed by music. Please welcome the phenomenal artists and songwriter who co-wrote it, Y/n Y/L/n”

The crowd applauded and you took a deep breath, instructions being given to you through your earpiece. “Okay….and start the music” You felt a shiver run down your spine as the piano started up, blue and white lights surrounding the stage. You kept your eyes closed, taking a breath before you started to sing.

“I should’ve known, I’d leave alone. Just goes to show, that the blood you bleed is just the blood you owe”

You had been instructed to cut to the bridge, eyes still closed in fear of ruining your performance with anxiety.

“Was I stupid to love you? Was I reckless to help? Was it obvious to everybody else? That if fallen for a lie” you took a stable breath, the lyrics falling flawlessly from your lips.

“You were never on my side. Fool me once, fool me twice. Are you death or paradise? Now you’ll never see me cry, there’s just no time to die” the orchestra started behind you, opening your eyes to be met with the crowd.

“I let it burn, you’re no longer my concern”

Your voice was filled with emotion, melodically beautiful. The orchestra fit with your voice so well, lights and screen visuals tying the whole performance in.

“Faces from my past return, another lesson yet, to learn” You stood from the stool, giving yourself space to sing. The room had gone dark, all fear washing away from you. You felt the lyrics in you, this is exactly what you imagined it would look like when you were writing it.

Darkness, piano, lights, violin. It was cool to finally be in the place that inspired you. “That id fallen for a lie, you were never on my side” Your voice was airy, loud, and full of emotion. Your hand was placed on your chest as you continued to sing, your eyes trying to spot out faces in the crowd.

“Now you’ll never see me cry, there’s just no time to die” The music got louder, building up to climax. You brought the microphone higher up, your voice filling in the melody with the orchestra. “No time to die, mhm” You took the deepest breath, vocalizing along with your hand to your chest. Feeling the music in your heart.

You brought the mic to your lips, pulling it away as you hit a note. You cheered in your brain, you actually managed to pull it off. The musicians behind you got louder, your voice did too. After seconds of instruments filling your ears you got to the last line, giving your voice a break from the song.

“There’s just no time to die” You smiled at the audience, applauses filling your ears with cheers coming from all sides of the theater. You gave a thumbs up to your pianists, turning around to clap at the beautiful orchestra that performed along with you.

“We did it, oh my god we did it” you squealed as you exited the stage. You felt yourself fill with pride, trying your best not to get emotional. “Uhm I just performed at the Oscars? And I literally did so well?” You laughed, running over to your manager. “See? I told you, you did so well” You pouted your lips, noticing her wiping away her tears. “Don’t cry, come on this is supposed to be exciting”

You dragged the dress back to your green room, smiling at the other performers who were up next. “God, I’m shaking” you grinned. “I was shaking bro! I swear your voice was just like ugh, so fucking good” You smiled, taking the compliment.

You had a bit of free time before you had to preset awards, your manager taking you to the red carpet. “Hey! Y/n…uhm I really enjoyed your performance, you looked beautiful” Jack Champion, your heart paused as you looked up at him, the tall boy smiling at you. “Oh, thank you!” “Of course, you sound really good…like really good” he scratched the back of his neck, nodding.

“Congratulations on your nomination by the way, good luck” You met his eyes as the line moved forward, almost close to getting on the carpet. “Yea! Yea, thanks, I heard you were nominated too, but that performance just won like all the awards” You smiled at his awkwardness. “I don’t know, the other songs are just so amazing” you laughed.

“If you don’t win, people are gonna riot” you blushed, thanking him once again. “You’re all red Y/n, come on you’re next” You went through the carpet, showing off your custom designer-made dress. It was something you had been envisioning for months. Bunched up black silk with a corset bodice, lace gloves with a diamond necklace.

“So who are we here with today?” You stood in front of the camera with a smile. “I’m Y/n y/l/n, how are you?” “I’m doing so good! I mean I just watched your performance and I think this is the best I’ve ever been in my life” You laughed at the compliment, more blush filling your face.

You answered a couple more questions before getting more pictures taken, the photographers screaming your name. “Y/n! Get one with Jack!” You looked over at him and he smiled, walking over to hug your side. You felt your heart beating in your chest, his hand staying on your waist as you walked down the line.

“So sweet of you to walk me down the carpet” you teased. “Just trying to impress you” You smiled and he let go of your waist. “I’ll see you around” he waved before his team dragged him backstage. “Y/n..focus” your manager smiled. “I am focused!”

You walked around for the rest of the night, getting drinks and saying hello to the other nominees. You sat back in your assigned seat, drink in hand before smiling at your stylist. “You ate with this dress, I really can’t I’ve been getting compliments all night” You rested your head on her shoulder with a smile. “You know I try my best, but seriously it was all you. You do really look beautiful Y/n…and I think Jack thinks so too” She nudged you under the table, your focus now on jacks table. He was with his mom and manager, smiling over at you.

“He’s so cute I might die” you exaggerated. “He’s into you, girl I think you’ll be going home with a new man tonight!” You covered your smile, taking a drink of the non-alcoholic beverage.

A couple more awards passed and it was your turn to give them out. You were accompanied by Zoë Kravitz, one of your lifelong idols.

You got on stage, hugging her before the segment started. “I’m Zoë Kravitz” “And I'm Y/n Y/l/n, and we are honored to be announcing the award for best actor of the year!” Zoë read out the nominees, the red envelope in your hand waiting to be opened.

“And the Oscar goes to...” You opened the red envelope with a small mischievous smile. “Jack Champion” the camera cut to the smiley boy, hugging his mom before going up on stage. “This is the first Oscar and nomination for the amazing Jack champion” you added, Jack coming up the stairs with a smile. “Congratulations” You pulled him into a hug, his face red as you handed him the award.

“Well uhm, wow. I just wanted to say thank you. To the fans, to my family. This is something really huge!” He laughed, your heart happy for him. “Thank you to James Cameron, Dileep Rao, and Dr . Max Patel. Thank you to all my co-stars, you guys are all so, so amazing” he held up the award proudly, stepping off stage as you handed out the next three awards.

“Hey! Congratulations! I knew you could do it” You came up to his table during the intermission. “Thank you” he got up, hugging you with a smile. “You raised a good kid Mrs. Champion” Your manager came up behind you, complimenting and congratulating him and his mom.

“Yea, thanks, Good luck with your award, I’m sure you’re gonna win” you blushed. Thanking him again before you walked back to your table, cameras rolling once again.

You felt your heart beating faster, the camera on you for your reaction. “Next we have the award for best original song, and our nominees are..” you smiled up at the screen, your competitors on the large tv. You felt your heart race, you knew you’d be fine if you didn’t win. But yet again winning would be really fucking cool.

“And the Oscar goes to..” you swore you felt your heart stop for a second. The sound of the envelope opening making your heart race. Zoë laughed before reading out the name, “Y/n y/l/n” Your heart dropped, face covering your hands as your stylist and manager jumped to hug you.

You walked up the steps, carefully to not step on your dress. “Uhm…oh my god?” You couldn’t hide your smile, award in hand. “Okay uhm…well, I wanna say thank you! To my stylist, my manager. My amazing co-actors and team. I love you guys so much, I’d be a mess without you all. I also Wanna Thank my family who sadly couldn’t be here. But I wanna thank them for their support! Also thank you to Hans Zimmer, Stephan Lipson for helping me produce this amazing track, this award is for you! And lastly thank you to the recording academy for this beautiful opportunity” You smiled once again, waving the award before walking back to the table.

“What the fuck?” “I told you that you’d win!” They hugged you tightly, the award carefully placed on the table. It was so much more than just an award to you. So much time and effort went into the track, and the final product was so satisfying.

“I’m so tired, I might die” You plopped down on the couch of your green room, taking off your tall, black heels. “Ready for the after-party look?” She pulled it out from the rack, it was similar to the dress you had on, just less extravagant. It had the same beautiful bodice, bodice, with the same slit just more toned down. It was more of a lacy material, a shawl made of the same thin black fabric. “I’m wearing my sneakers with this I don’t care” you laughed.

You got changed into the dress, surprisingly the sneakers didn’t look too bad with it. “Looking beautiful as always, now let’s head out before we get stuck in traffic” As you exited the green room everyone was already leaving. You spotted Jack through the crowd, his tall figure standing out against everyone else.

“Hey! You going to the after party?” “I’m not sure yet! Are you?” You nodded, adjusting your shawl. “Yea okay, I’ll be there” you smiled at him. “where are you gonna put yours?” You asked, matching Oscars in hand. “I think I’m gonna build a thrown just for it” “Seriously?” You laughed. “Yea! I’ll put it up on a pedestal, it’ll look great” You just smiled as he took your hand, your friends following behind the two of you.

Photographers lined up along the exit of the theater. You got into your car before you waved at Jack. “I’ll see you later?” He nodded, letting go of your hand. You watched as your two managers exchanged something, yours getting into the car. “He’s got you so whipped you forgot to get his number. Here you go” She handed you the small slip of paper.

“You looked beautiful tonight, congratulations <3 Can’t wait to see you soon!!! Here’s my number - Yours, Jack :)”

[bullet-prooflove]

Dwayne Pride 17)Champagne

Tagging: @mandy426 @Keyweegirlie @Luckyladycreator2 @Elixae @buckysteveloki-me

Companion piece to:

 Ro - Dwayne starts to see you in a different light.

Roses - Dwayne realises you're being courted.

Dwayne doesn’t want to be at the Mayor’s Ball. He doesn’t want to watch you slow dance with a man he completely despises or see his hands caress your skin as he holds you close and whispers sweet nothings into your ear. Every look, every kiss, it feels like a knife driving straight into his chest. He has to turn away because he can’t bear to watch anymore.

“She’s beautiful isn’t she?” Hamilton says when they run into each other at the bar, he’s holding a champagne flute in his hand and his eyes are on you as you talk animatedly to LaSalle at the NCIS table. “You know she sent me a preview of what she’s wearing underneath that dress and let me tell you I am a very lucky man.”

Dwayne wants to hit him. He wants to punch him in that smug, ungracious face of his until the smile dies and there’s nothing but a bloody mess.

“She’s a person Douglas.” He says as he drains his whisky glass. “Try treating her with some respect.”

“If I didn’t know any better Dwayne, I’d say you were jealous.” Hamilton says, the edges of his mouth turning up as he raises the champagne flute to his lips.

“Not jealous.” Dwayne states as you tip back your head and laugh at something LaSalle says. “Just protective. She’s one of my people Douglas and if you hurt her…”

“Oh I have no intention of hurting her.” Hamilton informs the other man as he pushes away from the bar and takes a step in your direction. “In fact I’m going to make sure she has a very pleasurable evening.”

Dwyane’s fist clenches in response to his words before Hamilton rejoins you. He leans in close, his lips brushing over your ear as he whispers something solicitous. Your cheeks flush and you eyes brighten and Dwayne knows what he’s seeing, the first blush of arousal.

He walks out after that because he can’t stand to see anymore. He goes back to the Tru Tone and he sits at his piano, his fingers begin to play the opening bars to that Norah Jones song you like, Waiting he thinks it’s called. He memorised it for your birthday, a personal gift from him to you. The lyrics spring to his lips and he feels that weight in his chest, that cluster of emotion he always has when he imagines you with Douglas.

I am waiting here Waiting for you to come home

“I forgot how beautifully you play it.” You say and he startles at your presence, the piano keys twanging out of tune.

“Ro.” He says quietly as you linger in the doorway, a silk wrap draped over your shoulders. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw you leave and the expression on your face…” You pause for a moment as you meet his gaze. “You looked sad Dwayne and I didn’t want you to be alone with that sadness.”

“It’s just a case of melancholy.” He says softly as you take up residence alongside him on the piano seat. “That’s all.”

“Will you play it again for me?” You ask him, gesturing at the piano and Dwayne complies because he can’t deny you a damn thing.

Hush now watch the stars fall Into a fire wall I am waiting here Waiting for you to come home

Love Dwayne? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[songforeddiemunson]

Morning Melodies

Eddie Munson header edit created by and used with permission from the incomparable @somnambulic-thing

For the @stcreators Event 04: Music

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (description vague apart from AFAB) Summary: Eddie and Reader engage in some romantic morning sex. Warnings/Tropes: Established relationship, pure romantic smut (fingering, oral, fem receiving, p in v sex) Note: I love guys who can play the piano. I think it's sexy as hell. Guitars are great, don't get me wrong, but imagine if Eddie could play the piano too? This is purely self-indulgent. Word Count: 1300

You opened your eyes and stretched languidly as wakefulness overtook you. The morning sun streamed in through the windows, and a faint summer breeze stirred the white sheer curtains.  You glanced at the bedside clock; it was almost 8:30 am.  Eddie was gone; he must have let you sleep in.  You pouted slightly; you so enjoyed being able to wake up beside him, and the mornings when you could lounge in bed together were too few.  Eddie had been on tour the last several months, and you only were able to see him a few times. You always missed him terribly when he was away.

As you sat up, the faint sound of piano music drifted to your ears.  It was Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, an achingly beautiful, soft melody. You closed your eyes and smiled; soaking it in.  You loved to hear him play.  

You slid out of bed naked and put on a discarded white button up shirt that Eddie had worn the night before. You took a moment to breathe his scent; after all this time, he still intoxicated you.

You padded downstairs and around the corner to the sitting room where Eddie played. You leaned against the door frame for a moment before entering; watching him.  He was dressed only in red plaid boxers with his long hair cascading around his shoulders. His dark curls glinted with hints of chestnut in the morning sun, and he looked as if he strolled out of a Botticelli painting. A beautiful, dark angel.

You moved quietly toward him, not wanting to interrupt the beautiful music he was making and ruin the moment.  Once you reached him, however, you couldn’t help but touch him; if only to remind yourself that he was real.  You stepped behind him and snaked your arm over his left shoulder, around to his chest.  You bent to press a kiss on the spot where his neck met his left shoulder; one of your favorite places in the world.

He didn't move or stop playing, but you felt him smile.  "Good morning," he said.  "I hope I didn’t wake you."

"You know I love to hear you play," you breathed into his neck, and kissed it again. "Good morning."

He chuckled.  "Damn, you're learning all of my tricks."

You came around to face him, leaning on the edge of the piano, but careful not to get in his way.  "Don’t change your ways on my account."

He smiled at you beatifically. When the sun caught his eyes just right, you thought they looked like honey; a glimpse into the sweetness within that he reserved only for you.

You stuck out your lower lip in a mock pout. "I was sad not to see you in bed with me when I woke up.  You know how I like to wake up slowly with you, and, um…acclimate each other to the new day."  You sighed, and smiled.  "This does make up for it though."

You walked around to the back of the piano, and climbed on top of it. He watched you with a cocked eyebrow but said nothing.  You walked slowly down the length of the instrument, almost to the flow of the music, and stopped at the edge, looking down on him.  Carefully, you lowered yourself down to a sitting position; legs crossed.  His expression took on an intensity that made goosebumps prickle along your skin.

Carefully, so as not to interrupt him, you placed each foot on one of his shoulders. He turned his head and kissed your left ankle, then gave the skin of your calf a little nibble.  You gasped, your breathing picking up pace.  You slowly unbuttoned the shirt, his shirt, fully exposing yourself.  You loved hearing him play, but you needed him to touch you.  You bit your lip in anticipation.

You tilted your pelvis so as to make yourself more accessible, and without missing a note, he rose up from the bench and leaned forward.  You felt his warm, silken tongue draw up the length of your slit, and you moaned.  He licked your entrance for a moment, and then his mouth closed to suckle on your clit.  Your legs shuddered with the pleasure of it, and you fought to remain upright.  He alternated between sucking and licking, sending you into paroxysms of ecstasy.  You felt your climax building, but suddenly his mouth was gone, leaving your heat aching with the need for release.

He stopped playing and stood up, eyes blazing.  He stared at you hungrily as you lifted one bare foot and touched his bulge with your toes.  You drew your foot slowly up his length, and his head fell back as he groaned. He reached down and pulled the band of his boxers down just enough to release his cock. You smiled at the perfect sight of him; his tatted and toned torso visible through his unbuttoned shirt, his impressive length standing at full attention.  

He grabbed your hips and pulled you to the very edge of the piano, and gently entwined the fingers of one hand into your hair.  He slid two long, skilled fingers into your heat, pushing them in as far as they would go.  He probed and hooked his fingers inside of you, hitting all the right places, and you gasped and moaned, hips squirming.  He could obviously tell by your wetness that you needed no further preparation, and after a few moments, he withdrew his digits.  He grasped his cock, and pushed the tip into your entrance. “Yes,” you moaned breathlessly.  "Please Eddie.“

He thrust his hips forward, sinking the full length of him into your depths in one, deliberate movement.  He kept one hand in your hair, holding you still as he thrust into you languidly at first, gradually picking up speed.  You attempted to moan his name, but all that came out was an ecstatic cry.  Your skin slapped audibly as he pounded into you; one foot slipped off his hips and smashed the piano keys, creating a cacophony that made Eddie chuckle despite his efforts. This carried on for several minutes; your mingled breathing punctuated with the occasional sour note caused by your foot hitting the keys as Eddie fucked you.  It wasn’t long before a powerful orgasm washed over you; your walls tightening on his cock. The force of the climax was unrelenting, and your hips bucked as the waves of ecstasy washed over you again and again.  You cried out; it was as if your very skin was on fire, and your mound tingled with a new sensitivity.  

"God...fuck..." he panted, and his teeth clamped down onto your left ear as he climaxed, grinding his pelvis into yours as he pumped his release into you.

He kissed you deeply before gently untwining his fingers from your hair, and braced himself with his hands on the piano, catching his breath.  You stroked the curls that framed his face.  "I've missed you Eddie,“ you said softly.

"I missed you too babe.  Enormously."  He gave you another peck on the lips before withdrawing and pulling up his boxers with a snap.  "You didn’t let me finish the song," he said with a wink.

You laughed and hopped off of the piano. "There will be time for that later.  First, coffee."

"Nope," he grinned at you, shaking his head.  "First shower.  Then coffee."

And so the melody continued, and the mingled sounds of your love and joy was a special kind of music indeed. 🖤

Thank you for reading! As always, comments and reblogs are the lifeblood of all fic writers. Please show us some love! :)

MASTERLIST

[thatsdemko]

tale as old as time - p.gasly

the art of attraction series — part one

masterlist

warnings: fluff

a/n: decided to provide the wedding scene!!! I have some other little fics working around the first part as well! xx

age 23 & 25

the proposal

he’s always known he was going to propose. it was when was the hardest part of the question to answer. folks back home both yours and his family always eagerly searching for a ring on your finger. he knows your antsy, seeing friends and extended family members get the beautiful diamond ring and begin to start families. you’d longed for that idea, but you’d wait for whenever Pierre found the timing to be right.

it was summer break when Pierre asked pascale leclerc and Lornezo, your eldest brother, for permission. with teary eyes, it was an easy yes from the two of them. he now only needed your answer.

—

you’re in your hotel bed. makeup removed and dessert from a local bakery sit mixed in the comforters of the bed, you two are snacking amongst yourself when he turns to you.

his eyes say every word he wants to say. with tears brimming the rims, your mouth curls into a smile knowing what’s next. he says he wants more nights like this, and says he can’t imagine anybody else he’d love more than you.

“y/n leclerc, will you marry me?”

“yes.”

age 25 & 27 (now)

the gasly’s.

Charles watches his best friend pace the floor of the tiny church room. he’s sure Arthur and Lorenzo have you safe from a nervous spiral, while Charles struggles to find words to calm his best friend before the best day of his life.

he knows these nerves aren’t bad thoughts. rather, excited for the future and the big celebration. months, years, of preparation went into this wedding. from the flowers all the way down to the shoes you both wore, all the details were planned out.

part of Pierre wants none of the traditions. he doesn’t care for the ministers approval and the shitty piano music his mother got teary eyed about.

“do you think you can get ordained as a minister?”

“like now?”

Pierre shoots Charles a pointed look, “why would I ask if it wasn’t for right now?”

Charles frantically pulls out his phone, nervous hands shaking as he types it in the safari. he becomes ordained in a matter of minutes and soon enough he’s pulling you out of your bridal party with Lorenzo and Arthur.

Pierre waits outside the church, your white dress coming into his vision like an angel or a cloud in the sky. with your hair pulled back, veil covering your face, and the white train trailing behind you, he felt tears slipping down his cheeks.

“Aw don’t cry or else I’ll cry and they spent hours on my makeup.” you wipe your thumb across his cheeks until they stop and Charles marries you two in the parking lot of the church. an hour earlier than the actual wedding.

“I should’ve married you along time ago.”

“I agree, it took you long enough to ask.”

—

the reception is in the summer home. the bedroom you first fell in love with him, is the place you two hide from greeting guests and faking smiles.

“I can’t believe we have to go down there again.” you groan throwing your body against his crisp clean suit.

“if you get tired of this, go up to the attic and I’ll come to you. I can hold off the family for you.” he presses a kiss to your forehead, two of you finally deciding to get up off the bed and make your way down the stairs. family and friends begin to holler and cheer seeing your arrival to your own party. Pierre kisses you once again, lips colliding like there wasn’t going to be another time for this. the hollers and whistles become background noise to the sound of his heart beat and how his fingers feel against the white silk material. you want to capture these emotions forever and put them in a bottle.

Pierre holds on to his promise, he chats with your family and his family while giving you time to eat and linger with friends. all sorts of people compliment your dress, the taste for the venue, etc. there’s not a single opinion you could care about while you sit and listen.

“I always pictured your wedding happening here.” Arthur says from beside you at the dinning room table. the two of you tucked away from the rest of the guests.

“really?”

he nods, “yeah, the flowers in the backyard are the ones you’ve always picked for Enzo, the sunset is visible from here, and this is where you fell in love. I was shocked when maman told me you picked a silly church.”

you laugh at your younger brothers words, but ultimately agree. you’d wished you didn’t settle on the old church and rather just get married in the backyard. you didn’t have many guests as it was, and Arthur was right, this place did hold a special spot in your heart.

“you should get married here then. the place belongs to Pierre now.”

Arthur laughs, “no I’m getting married in bora bora. churches are a yawn.”

you scoff giving his shoulder a shove, “wow where were you at the wedding planning meeting?”

“sleeping. I didn’t care to hear about bouquets and bridal showers.”

—

the early morning/late evening hours seems to slip by you both. you’re curled in bed, fingers intertwined when you hear Pierre shift in bed. his suit jacket was draped across your lap as a blanket, while his dress shirt was torn off somewhere across the room. you’d both been to exhausted for anything fun to happen that night, but from the looks of the room it’d say otherwise.

your eyes flutter open— well attempt with yesterdays mascara sticking them together— you look over at Pierre in his peaceful state. you’d, shockingly, never noticed the contrast color of his lashes to his blue eyes, how the hairs under his lip were getting a little thicker, or even the finest line across his forehead from stress. these were things that seemed to come with time, but beauty you loved so deep within your heart.

“I should make you breakfast, shouldnt I?”

his voice startles you from your thoughts, his hand reaches across the bed to your leg. the guarder you’d worn was torn off, and you proudly wear nothing but spandex and Pierre’s tie around your neck. somehow along the lines you’d lost your bra, but your dress still lays perfectly across the floor.

“don’t be ridiculous, let’s just order breakfast.” you shift closer to him and reach across for his phone on the charger. he takes the chance to kiss your cheek while you enter his passcode and scroll through the millions of breakfast places open.

“I don’t think I ever told you how beautiful you looked last night.”

you give him a pointed look, “and yesterdays makeup doesn’t still say beautiful?”

he laughs pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade, “amour, you’re beautiful everyday. just even extra yesterday.”

you feel the typical butterflies you get around him, but there’s even more than usual when you’re around him, you couldn’t pinpoint the feeling but it softened your heart and made you sink closer to him.

“what do you want from McDonald’s, mr. gasly?”

“whatever my wife wants.”

tags: @oconso @xcicix @imsorare @weasleyswizardwheezes-blog @monzabee @lpab @frreyaa @motorsp0rt @smoothopz @jaehyunluvcult @iloveyou3000morgan @lunnnix @leclerc13 @toalltheboyswhowastedmytime

want to be apart of my taglist? let me know here!

[imagininghim]

A very broken Hallelujah

A/N: I've recently been listening to the song Hallelujah and I can't get this imagine out of my head, I hope you enjoy!

There is not enough Lucifer imagines and smut out there so please request away, or write some because your girl is in desperate need!

Blurb: You're on a hunt for a demon with the Winchesters, Castiel and a certain little devil at a lounge. The boys ask you to pose as a lounge singer to attract the attention of the demon but little do you know, that's not the only attention you catch.

Pairing: Lucifer x Female!Reader

Trigger warnings: not a one, just some sweet and fluffy devil loving.

"You want me to do what?" I questioned as I stared blankly at the two boys from the backseat of the impala.

"You know, just sing a song or two while Sam and I hunt for the black eyed bastard." Dean said with a smile. "It won't be that bad, I've heard you sing in the shower before. You're great!" Before I could argue Sam spoke up.

"What Dean is trying to say is, we just need you to distract the crowd while we search for him, as soon as we find him, we'll signal for you and we can leave." Sam said with hope in his voice.

"Why can't we just send Lucifer to find the demon, I'm sure he already knows where he is." I said sending a glance across the seat at the former archangel.

"We can't trust him enough to actually help, which is why Cas is going to sit in the crowd with him and keep an eye on you and him while we hunt." Sam responded simply, I let out a sigh knowing there was no way I was gonna win this argument.

"Fine, but you both owe me." I said with a huff.

"Deal."

We drove the rest of the way to the lounge in silence, every now and then I could feel a set of eyes trailing over me, I looked over at Cas who was sitting next to me, focusing on the road ahead and then at Lucifer who was simply staring out the window. I shrugged it off, thinking it was a coincidence and turned back to the window.

Once we arrived, we all shuffled out of the car. Sam and Dean, came prepared already dressed in suits while Cas and Lucifer wore their normal attire.

"(Y/N), I packed you a bag with a dress and some heels." Sam began, handing me over the duffel bag. "They have a dressing room you can get ready in, you'll be on in fifteen minutes, so you better get going." I nodded before sending a glare at Dean and making my way into the lounge.

After I got dressed and freshened up, the makeup I had already been wearing, I heard the stage manger call my name. Taking in a deep breath, I made my up the stairs and onto the stage.

As I over looked the crowd, I locked eyes with a pair of light blue ones. For a moment, it looked like they flashed red but I just shrugged it off as being nothing.

Walking to the mic, silence fell amongst the crowd as a piano began with a familiar tune. I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes, beginning to sing.

"Now I've heard there was a secret chord, that David played, and it pleased the Lord, but you don't really care for music, do you? It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth, the minor falls, the major lifts, the baffled king composing Hallelujah" I reopened my eyes to only find them staring back into Lucifer's. I continued to stare as I sung, feeling as if it was just the two of us in the room.

"Your faith was strong but you needed proof, you saw her bathing on the roof, her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you, she tied you to a kitchen chair, she broke your throne, and she cut your hair, and from your lips she drew the Hallelujah." As the song continued, Lucifer and I never once broke eye contact, he began leaning forward and placing his elbows as I sang. Looking as if he was locked into some sort of trance.

"Maybe I have been here before, I know this room I, I've walked this floor, I used to live alone before I knew you, I've seen your flag on the marble arch, love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah." I closed my eyes as the song went on as an image appeared in my thoughts.

It was all pitch black but the faint sound of the piano played on, I looked around as I heard footsteps approaching.

"Care to dance." I turned around to see Lucifer standing in an all black suit, with his hand held out to me. I glanced his hand and then back at his eyes, which were now illuminating a bright red. I placed my hand in his and nodded. Taking ahold of me, he slid his hand around my waist and pulled me close.

"There was a time you let me know, what's real and going on below, but now you never show it to me, do you? And remember when I moved in you? The holy dark was moving, too, and every breath we drew was Hallelujah"

We continued to dance, holding on to one another while staring deeply into each other's eyes. It wasn't until I heard what sounded like the flapping of wings, that I took notice. Outstretched behind Lucifer was his wings, they were black and battered but they were still breathtaking.

"Can I touch them?" I questioned as I stopped dancing, and continued to stare in awe of his wings.

"You can see them?" Lucifer questioned in slight shock.

"Yes and they're beautiful." I reached out my hand before glancing at him, he nodded in response and ran my fingers through the soft silkiness of his feathers, he let out a soft moan as I continued.

"You know, they say only your soulmate can see your wings. The person you're destined to be with." Lucifer said softly as I turned to look at him.

"Maybe there's a god above, and all I ever learned from love, was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you, and it's not a cry you can hear at night, it's not somebody who's seen the light, it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah." The song finished up, and I reopened my eyes as the crowd erupted in clapping and cheering. Breaking the eye contact from Lucifer, I noticed Sam signalling me that they had finished the hunt. I took a small bow and made my way off the stage.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in once I reached the dressing room, I glanced up in the mirror to see Lucifer standing behind me.

"You sang beautifully." He said simply. I turned around to only take in notice of his wings in person.

"Yo-your wings." I stuttered dumbfounded that I could actually see them.

"It's you, (Y/N)." He began coming towards me, cupping my cheek in his hand.

"It's always been you."

[ishifted-jdayz]

um. okay. hi. uh. i just shifted. just came back really. fuck dude. jesus christ.

okay um. so i shifted to my "wr" which is basically a ranch and i can do magic real easily and stuff and. it was so interesting coming to there. i was like. sitting up and everything was hazy at first and then i blinked the like. sleep out of my eyes and it was all so real.

there was sun coming through the curtains just how i imagined and the carpet felt right beneath my feet and it smelled like such fresh air, nice and cool. i ran my hands along the wall to really like. ensure i was there and i like. laughed incredulously and was like holy shit. bc i made it. oh my god dude i made it.

i ran outside to see if i was where i was fr and i was. i could see the ocean and the forest and the line of trees that blocks the train tracks. i could hear bugs and birds chirping and i was so. the warmth of the sun on my skin was crazy. i stayed out there for a while. i was in a white like. dress thing? like an undergarment from the 1800s. i was breathing easier i didnt have any allergies. i ran all the way to the beach to dip my toes in the water and fill my hands with sand.

when i got back i was like. so excited. i wasnt even hungry but i made myself be in order to eat in the kitchen. i made my favorite dish (im autism and have it all the time) and was just. beside myself as i watched it rotate in the microwave. i looked at all the cds i have and i turned on the tv. ive been watching criminal minds in old reality lately so i pulled up season 3 bc i hate that gideon left and i pulled up s3 in the one where gideon Didnt leave. and started watching that while i ate and looked around.

ive got a ton of plants next to my couch and i touched them all. the piano plays just like the one in my old reality, and i finally fucking found the sheet music i had forever ago and could never find. and i played it pretty easily and god man. it felt so fucking surreal. all my favorite books were on the shelves and i knew if i took one and pressed my hand against it and said "know" id know it all as if i just read it but i didnt really want to.

i looked in the bathroom and that was fucking cool as shit. the bathtub was so big and the windows were huge (no one comes here unless i want them to so its fine). i found a box of my jewelry including a ring i had to get resized in my old dr but it fit perfectly. the water was perfect and cool under my hands GUYS it was literally so cool.

and my cas room. its just how i imagined. so its like a old ass room from like the 1700s wood floor seems kinda dusty. but theres a mirror and i can enter sort of create a sim mode and change everything abt my self. first thing i did was get rid of my chest and MAN. FUCK. THE EUPHORIA. i started crying. had to take a whole couple minutes to come down from that. and then i started messing with my hair length and type and color and freckles and eye color and height and all this stuff and it was really cool. my ass is so fat now btw SLAY. and i just. looked at myself. and felt truly at home. like even though i look different now i feel more Me bc i Chose it. and anyway.

walked outside again bc i put on diff clothes in the CAS room and wanted to see my horse. its in a little pocket dimension sort of bc i dont want to constantly need to take care of them or have them around but when i want them around they are and i got to see herrrrrrr. shes also a beauty and i love her so much. and my cat pib was there and its just. guys its so fucking freeing. to know that everything i want is there.

went back inside and upstairs to the bedroom and man. i havent done much irt redecorating yet bc i wanted to do that myself but. i have a desk and a computer up there and immediately started up the sims 3 (my favorite game) and started playing and NO LAG. IS SO FUCKING EPIC GUYS. IM SO STOKED. and i played for a while and kept criminal minds on in the background until i got bored and then i went downstairs and ate and started watching. the secret season of black sails (my favorite show) and dudeeeeee that was crazy oh my god. ik why i cant see it in the my cr for meta reasons but now i SEEEEE now i understand........

and then i remembered my library and i ran over to that and dude it was so PRETTY. and i grabbed some music theory books and some language (letters and grammar) books and did the "know" thing and lets just say i know mandarin and japanese and french and gaelige and hebrew now. and im gonna do more when i get back but BRO its just so cool.

and i got a glass of fresh iced tea and went outside and watched the sun set on my porch and pib came up and my old dog bella (whos both old and not old now) and i started crying a little bit and then i went to sleep. and decided to come back here to update yall bc ik i can go back easy af now (bc i came back to a reality where i Can) so. anyway very fucking excited. so fucking happy. one billion out of ten.

[1this1corrosion1]

Marilyn Monroe: My Story

1

how i rescued a white piano

Whenever I visited my mother I would stand looking at this photograph and hold my breath for fear she would order me to stop looking. I had found out that people always ordered me to stop doing anything I like to do.

I felt very warm toward the picture.

The night I met his picture I dreamed of it when I fell asleep.

That was my first happy time, finding my father’s picture. And every time I remembered how he smiled and how his hat was tipped I felt warm and not alone. When I started a sort of scrapbook a year later the first picture I put in it was a photograph of Clark Gable because he looked like my father—especially the way he wore his hat and mustache.

Once when I lay in a hospital after having my tonsils out and running into complications, I had a daydream that lasted a whole week without stopping.

And I would ask him please to take off his hat. But I could never get him in my largest, deepest daydream to take his hat off and sit down.

A man next door chased a dog I had loved and who had been waiting for me to come home. The dog barked because he was happy to see me. And the man started chasing him and ordering him to shut up. The man had a hoe in his hand. He swung the hoe. It hit my dog’s back and cut him in half.

2

my first sin

You could buy a sackful of old bread at the Holmes Bakery for twenty-five cents. Aunt Grace and I would stand in line for hours waiting to fill our sack. When I looked up at her she would grin at me and say, “Don’t worry, Norma Jean. You’re going to be a beautiful girl when you grow up. I can feel it in my bones.”

Her words made me so happy that the stale bread tasted like cream puffs.

Nearly everybody I knew talked to me about God. They always warned me not to offend Him. But when Grace talked about God, she touched my cheek and said that He loved me and watched over me. Remembering what Grace had said I lay in bed at night crying to myself. The only One who loved me and watched over me was Someone I couldn’t see or hear or touch. I used to draw pictures of God whenever I had time. In my pictures He looked a little like Aunt Grace and a little like Clark Gable.

As I grew older I knew I was different from other children because there were no kisses or promises in my life. I often felt lonely and wanted to die. I would try to cheer myself up with daydreams. I never dreamed of anyone loving me as I saw other children loved. That was too big a stretch for my imagination. I compromised by dreaming of my attracting someone’s attention (besides God), of having people look at me and say my name.

I think I wanted them to see me naked because I was ashamed of the clothes I wore—the never changing faded blue dress of poverty. Naked, I was like other girls and not someone in an orphan’s uniform.

There was one home I hoped wouldn’t throw me out. This was a house with four children who were watched over by a great-grandmother who was over a hundred years old. She took care of the children by telling them blood-curdling stories about Indian massacres, scalpings, burnings at the stake, and other wild doings of her youth. She said she had been a close friend of Buffalo Bill and had fought at his side in hand-to-hand battles with the savage Redskins.

I listened to her stories with my heart in my mouth and did everything I could to make her like me. I laughed the loudest and shivered the most at her stories. But one day one of her own great-grandchildren came running to her with her dress torn from her neck. She said I had done it. I hadn’t. But the old Indian-fighter wouldn’t believe me, and I was sent back to the orphanage in disgrace.

I daydreamed chiefly about beauty. I dreamed of myself becoming so beautiful that people would turn to look at me when I passed. And I dreamed of colors—scarlet, gold, green, white. I dreamed of myself walking proudly in beautiful clothes and being admired by everyone and overhearing words of praise. I made up the praises and repeated them aloud as if someone else were saying them.

3

it happened in math class

I didn’t mind being thought dumb. I knew I wasn’t.

I didn’t think of my body as having anything to do with sex. It was more like a friend who had mysteriously appeared in my life, a sort of magic friend. A few weeks later, I stood in front of the mirror one morning and put lipstick on my lips. I darkened my blond eyebrows. I had no money for clothes, and I had no clothes except my orphan rig and the lone sweater. The lipstick and the mascara were like clothes, however. I saw that they improved my looks as much as if I had put on a real gown.

And there was a holiday feeling in the air that surprised me. Everybody seemed to be smiling at the sky.

I was full of a strange feeling, as if I were two people. One of them was Norma Jean from the orphanage who belonged to nobody. The other was someone whose name I didn’t know. But I knew where she belonged. She belonged to the ocean and the sky and the whole world.

4

i branch out as a siren

Why I was a siren, I hadn’t the faintest idea. There were no thoughts of sex in my head. I didn’t want to be kissed, and I didn’t dream of being seduced by a duke or a movie star. The truth was that with all my lipstick and mascara and precocious curves, I was as unsensual as a fossil. But I seemed to affect people quite otherwise.

Being boys, most of them were satisfied with a goodnight kiss or a confused hug in a hallway.

The truth is I never felt offended by any of them, even the wrestlers who mussed my hair. If anything, I envied them. I would have liked to want something as much as they did. I wanted nothing. They might as well have been wooing a bear in a log.

Some said it was the way I looked at them—with eyes full of passion. Others said it was my voice that lured them on. Still others said I gave off vibrations that floored them. 

Occasionally I let one of them kiss me to see if there was anything interesting in the performance. There wasn’t.

Actually our marriage was a sort of friendship with sexual privileges. I found out later that marriages are often no more than that. And that husbands are chiefly good as lovers when they are betraying their wives.

5

marriage knell

The great war was on. Battles were being fought. Juke boxes were playing. People’s eyes were lit up.

I have noticed since that men usually leave married women alone, and are inclined to treat all wives with respect. This is no great credit to married women. Men are always ready to respect anything that bores them. The reason most wives, even pretty ones, wear such a dull look is because they’re respected so much.

My fidelity was due to my lack of interest in sex.

It’s hard to remember what you said, did, or felt when you were bored.

I feel different about having a child now. It’s one of the things I dream of. She won’t be any Norma Jean now. And I know how I’ll bring her up—without lies. Nobody will tell her lies about anything. And I’ll answer all her questions. If I don’t know the answers I’ll go to an encyclopedia and look them up. I’ll tell her whatever she wants to know—about love, about sex, about everything!

When I just wrote “this is the end of Norma Jean,” I blushed as if I had been caught in a lie. Because this sad, bitter child who grew up too fast is hardly ever out of my heart. With success all around me, I can still feel her frightened eyes looking out of mine. She keeps saying, “I never lived, I was never loved,” and often I get confused and think it’s I who am saying it.

6

lonely streets

These lonely street corner wolves “hi-babying” me sounded like voices out of the past calling me to be Miss Nobody again—to be used and ignored.

7

another soldier boy

8

i begin a new dream

(in progress)

[wtfaustin]

austinpresley: saturday.. march twenty-fifth, two-thousand & twenty three. it’s happening mom, I’m getting married today. you should be here, you should be talking me through as I get ready, telling me it’s about damn time. You should be wearing a mother of the groom dress and be showing your boys off to everyone. Instead there will be a framed picture of you where you should be sat and you’ll truly have the best view, from above. I’ve been emotional all day, thinking about you. Thinking about how you wouldn’t want me to cry but the absence you left behind is far greater than I ever imagined. Then again, I imagined this happening when I was so much older. I’ve been carrying your picture in a little locket with me everywhere I go. nothing about this feels right, nothing about you being gone is right. I wish I could’ve saved you, done something, anything. We’re doing a little moment for you at the reception, what should be the mother-son dance will be home movies clipped together and pictures of us all shown with Unchained Melody playing because that was always your favorite song to hear me sing and play on the piano. Don’t worry, all of us will be singing it too while I play the piano with it.

Celine went out to talk to you today again, mom. Though she doesn’t say too many things in full sentences yet, she just finds comfort in sitting there talking to you and holding your picture close to her, I think you might know this but she does it a couple times a week. She misses you, mom. Dax misses you too, he won’t go to bed unless he has his picture of you and him. I can’t control my emotions today. I’m so happy to finally make Lily a Presley, I just know she’s going to look beautiful. Nonna gave her the something blue, the blue sapphire necklace you once wore. You would love to see her in it, she looks beautiful, then again I think she looks beautiful all the time but you’ve been hearing me talking about her since before I even asked her out. You pushed me to do that, I could never thank you enough. You gave me the life of my dreams and because I know you always wanted what was best for me. I know I’ll feel you with me like I always do but for some reason that doesn’t feel like enough, I’m surrounded by people who love me and Lily, but you were our biggest fan.

“You need to marry that girl, son, stop being so stuck in your own head. I love you but you need to take that jump because if you don’t, you’ll regret it.” You’ve given the best advice to me throughout my life and you should still be here to do so but I’m so thankful to have you had written down so many things for me so I can go back and look at them. I hope you’re with granddaddy right now, I hope you’re smiling down at me because I’m always smiling up at you. I wish I could hug you one last time, I didn’t know walking out of the hospital that day would’ve been my last time, I would’ve held on longer. I fucking miss you, mom. I love you so much. You are forever my angel. A piece of my heart will always belong to you.

[ffcarlos-grad604]

20 Objects Descriptions (50 Words)

01 Piano

My journey with the piano began at age 7, leading me to an antique green-patterned upright piano that holds sentimental value. This versatile instrument spans a wide sound range, just as I aspire to be a versatile designer skilled in various creative disciplines, from graphic to UX design.

02 Viola

The viola, a unique member of the string family, has a warm sound and serves as the alto voice between violin and cello. The viola’s rarity is what makes it special. Similarly, as a designer, I wish to find and embrace my unique perspectives, skills, and styles that set me apart.

03 Music Stand

My trusty music stand, a symbol of commitment to my viola practice, provides a stable platform for sheet music. It parallels the teamwork in music, where musicians collaborate, often sharing a stand, mirroring the cooperation in design, where designers work together to achieve harmonious outcomes with writers, developers, and business partners.

04 Music Folder

My cherished yellow music folder was a gift from my first teacher. It represents the musical language's intricate symbols, creating beautiful melodies. As designers, we wield a visual language, using colours, shapes, and typography to convey messages, emotions, and perceptions, much like musicians interpreting scores to evoke emotions and connect with an audience.

05 Metronome

A metronome aids musicians in maintaining rhythm, and I rely on it during practice. It also serves as a tuner for my viola. Similarly, design principles like colour, typography, and spacing ensure visual cohesion. Just as a metronome enforces consistent timing in music, design rules provide structure for designers' creative work.

06 Concert Programme Collection

My collection of concert brochures, pamphlets, and booklets preserves cherished memories and stories from various performances, including the Auckland Philharmonia Orchestra, NZ Opera and more. These keepsakes provide valuable information about composers, musicians, and event details, reminding me of my musical journey's rich tapestry.

07 Concert Attire

This is a dress that I currently wear when performing on stage. Just as musicians' attire shapes their audience's perception, my design portfolio influences my professional identity. It should showcase my unique style, professionalism, and passion, much like concert attire establishes an artist's presence and identity.

08 Crucifix

For years, I’ve had this crucifix sit on the top of my cupboard or shelf in my bedroom. It has served as a reminder of my faith. Its imagery of sacrifice, love, and salvation can enrich my designs, infusing reverence and contemplation. Incorporating it into my work reminds viewers of Christianity's profound significance, adding depth and emotion to my creations.

09 Bible

This childhood Bible book, resurfaced as a gateway to reconnect with my faith. Eager to delve into its stories and contexts, I seek to deepen my understanding of Christianity. This exploration marks a crucial step towards my aspiration of engaging in church-related design work, bridging faith and design.

10 Bandages

My pneumonia ICU stay in September 2023 became a crucial life experience, akin to a bandage shielding wounds. It heightened awareness of physical and mental wellbeing and sparked an interest in healthcare and social-good design. I am excited about my upcoming internship at Good Health Design, a transdisciplinary studio at AUT's School of Art and Design.

11 Headphones

These gifted Bluetooth headphones from my mum is a creative companion, enhancing my focus with music. Music's power to uplift the mind fuels my imagination during work. During commutes, I switch to pop genres for a contrasting experience, recognizing how different music genres influence moods and activities, enriching my daily journey.

12 Blue-Light Glasses

A pair of blue-light glasses were another gift from my mum. As designers, we spend a substantial amount of time looking at our screens. This prolonged exposure can cause damage and strain to our eyes so blue-light glasses are essential to safeguarding out eyes and optimizing our design workflow.

13 Quilted Blanket

A cherished quilted blanket, a gift from my grandmother's friend in 2016, symbolizes love and craftsmanship. Its intricate patterns, colours, and stitching techniques reflect artistry beyond digital screens, reminding us that design thrives in the tangible, tactile world, honouring the time, effort, and creativity poured into its creation.

14 Gifted Cards Collection

These are all the handwritten notes and cards, I’ve received all the way back to my old friends from primary school which I keep them in a cookie tin container. Collections represent a bank of inspiration of designers, their work, and the creative community. In a way, they are like Pinterest or Behance moodboards.

15 Peacocks

Free-roaming peafowls in my neighbourhood, remnants of a pre-development era, evoke nature's beauty. Their presence inspires my design work, coinciding with my upcoming internship at Waiheke Resources Trust, a non-profit promoting sustainability and environmental responsibility. These majestic birds symbolize the importance of preserving and honouring Mother Nature's wonders.

16 Milo the Cavapoochon

My family’s first pet, Milo, a Cavapoochon puppy, brought us a lot of joy. Though we couldn't provide the care he needed, his brief stay reminded me of the importance of understanding audiences, users, and stakeholders in design. Empathy yields more impactful and resonant creations that meet their goals and needs.

17 Notebook/Visual Diary

My collection of unused notebooks beckons, their pristine pages intimidating yet inviting. Overcoming the fear of imperfection, I yearn to freely write, draw, and capture ideas. In a digital age, paper and pen offer a screen-free, creative sanctuary, ready to capture spontaneous inspirations and ensure no brilliant idea goes unnoticed or forgotten.

18 ADP and ADE Folio Boards

Portfolio boards from my high school years, 11ADP and 12ADE, mark the start of my artistic journey. Year 11 ignited my passion for art and design, and year 12 solidified my career choice. These boards capture the early stages of my creative evolution, signifying the pivotal years of my artistic awakening.

19 School Yearbooks

Skipping a school year, a proud achievement, marked the transition from one chapter to another, symbolizing liberation. Yearbooks now preserve memories from primary, intermediate, and high school. Similarly, the design world, with boundless creativity and innovative potential, offers opportunities to impact lives, much like my journey of skipping a year unlocked new horizons.

20 Threaded Magazine

Threaded magazine, a gift from Fiona Grieve's design studio, embodies the vibrant design community I aim to join. It symbolizes a collective of passionate, innovative individuals shaping the design landscape, inspiring my aspiration to be part of this dynamic world of like-minded creatives.

[anglophiletraveler]

He Loves Me, He loves Me Not

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Anders stopped by Ty and Dawn’s for a quick visit to let them know what happened and to say that he couldn’t stay for supper because he had to be back at the town hall for a concert at 7:00 sharp.  Then it was to get home quickly and figure out what to wear for the evening.

************************

Anders wasn’t sure if he should wear a full tuxedo or just a very dressy suit.  He decided to go with a dressy suit instead of looking overdressed.  He showed up at the boxoffice in a black suit with a white shirt and a grey tie.  The box office worker gave Anders his ticket and he turned around to find Charlie standing behind him.  She was stunning.  Her shoulder length auburn hair was out of the pony tail that she had worn during their meeting.  He noticed that it fell into soft flowing curves that perfectly framed her face.  Anders couldn’t take his eyes off her sparkling blue eyes and full lips that had a darker lip colour on them. She was wearing a dark navy blue cocktail dress that was off the shoulders, so he was glad that he chose the suit that he was wearing.   He was pretty sure that he was staring like a 15 year old boy.

“Anders!  I’m so glad that you could make it.” 

Anders walked closer to her so they wouldn’t have to talk above the crowd.  “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.  By the way, you look beautiful!”  Shit that probably wasn’t proper talk for a client Anders thought.

“Oh this old thing?”  Charlie chuckled at her own joke and then took a look at Anders.  “You don’t look so bad yourself, eh. We still have a half hour until the concert starts.  Would you like to get a drink?” Charlie asked.

“That sounds nice.”  They found the bar and Anders was about to pay for both of their drinks when Charlie said, “Oh no, my treat.  Besides, I get it for free.  One of the perks for working for the orchestra, yeah.” 

Anders nodded in appreciation, “Well, that’s nice.  Thank you.”  

As they walked over to a bench to sit on, Anders noted that several people stopped Charlie to say hello.  They were finally able to sit down and finish their drinks.  “I’m sorry about that.  It’s part of the job.  Most of those people who stopped me are donors, so I always have to play nice and smile.”

“Oh no, I totally get it.  You are always out front.  How long have you worked for the orchestra?” Anders decided that he needed to get to know this beautiful creature.

Charlie took a big drink of her wine. “Three years.  They’ve gone by fast.  I love working here.  It’s been the best job ever.” 

“You seem to really enjoy it.  Have you played in an orchestra before?  Just curious since you play the piano so well.”

“Oh yeah, back home when I was younger I played for an orchestra at college, nothing as big as the APO.  I actually went to school for marketing with a music minor, so I never really expected to play for an orchestra.  I prefer a more settled lifestyle than what a musician might have.”

Anders cleared his throat and leaned in, “Please don’t take offence by this, but where are you from? Your accent doesn’t quite sound American.”  Anders asked.

Charlie threw her head back and laughed a deep sexy laugh that took Anders by surprise, “That’s because I’m not, but you’re close.  I’m Canadian, eh!”

“Oh of course!  I should’ve known.” Anders stated.

“Not necessarily.  I imagine the difference between Canadian and American to you is about what Canadians and Americans hear from New Zealanders and Australians.  You have to really know the difference when you hear it.  Are you originally from Auckland?”

“Well, we lived on a farm when we were growing up, but we moved here when I was in my teens.  I’ve been here ever since.”

“We - your family?” Charlie asked

“Well, my three brothers and I.  My da shot through when I was around 12, and my mum left a few years after that.” Anders cleared his throat.  How the fuck did we get on this dark topic? Anders thought to himself.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry.  That must have been horrible for you and your brothers.  I didn’t mean to bring up unhappy memories.”  The warning lights blinked in the lobby.  “Well, I guess we should take our seats.”  

Anders looked up the lights and thought, just in the knick of time!  He stood up, smiled and held out his arm to Charlie, “Shall we?” 

Charlie put her arm through Anders arm, “We shall!”

*********************

Anders followed the program closely since he really didn’t have an idea about this type of music.  It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be.  There were a couple of selections that were a bore, but he made it through those by wondering about the beautiful auburn hair that was sitting next to him.  He’d really love to ask her out but he didn’t think that was a good idea given that this could be a huge client for the agency.  That had never stopped him before, but that was when Braggi was around to get him out of sticky situations.  Every once in a while he would look over at her and meet her smile with a smile of his own.  

The audience started applauding which woke Anders out of daydreaming and he began to clap along with the others.  The house lights came back up and he blinked his eyes a couple of times to adjust to the bright light.  

Charlie stood up and looked at him, “Well you made it through and you’re still awake!  Congratulations!”

Anders smiled and stood up, “Yes, thank you for the ticket.  It was very nice.  I enjoyed it.”

Charlie started laughing at him, “Oh you don’t have to lie, I know it’s probably not really your thing.”

They started filing out of their row with everyone else and made their way out into the lobby.  Charlie was saying the occasional good-bye to people that she knew.  She looked at her watch.  “I was wondering Anders, if you would be interested in going out for a drink, if it’s not too late for you.”

Anders made a coy look at his watch, “Well, it’s a tad bit late for me, but I think I can manage to stay up for a drink!”

Charlie laughed with her brilliant eyes, “Oh I’m so glad.  How about the Red Lion down at the corner?”

“I’ll see you there!”

Anders had made it to the pub before Charlie so he got a table for the two of them.  He decided against ordering his drink without her. He wasn’t sure what to order for Charlie so he decided to wait for her.  He didn’t want to guess or presume the wrong thing.  But knowing that she’s Canadian, he’s guessing that she’ll go for a pint.

Charlie arrived just a few minutes after Anders did and she got a big smile on her face when she saw Anders.  “It’s a miracle!  I made it out of the crowd unscathed!”  Anders stood up to pull out a chair for her.  “Thank you sir.  That’s very gentlemanly of you.”

Anders showed off his dimples with his smile, “I try every once in a while.  What would you like to drink?”

“I think I’ll have a pint.”

“Sounds good.  I’ll be right back.”  As soon as Anders turned to walk to the bar, Charlie slyly turned her head to watch him walk away.  Anders had his hands in his pockets so she got a nice view for her trouble.  She made sure she turned back around before he caught her.  

Anders sat down with their beer and they both took a long pull.  

Charlie sat her pint down, “Oh that tastes good.  I was getting so thirsty.”

“Do you go to every performance?” Anders asked.

“Heavens no.  But I do pay attention to the nights when a large amount of donors show up.  The box office manager is good at helping me out with that.  That way I can put on the schmooze.”

“Ah impressive and very sneaky!  I love it!” Anders smiled.

“Well, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do!!  If I didn’t do that I’d never have a free night to myself, ya know?” She had this wicked smile, and her blue eyes were sparkling in the light of the pub, and Anders swore he saw a freckle or two. Fucking adorable!  Oh this is going to be so hard to stay professional!

Anders cleared his throat, “So um, did you move just for the job?”

“Pretty much.  I didn’t really have much keeping me back in Canada anymore.  My parents are retired and flit around the world, so they are rarely ever home.  My older brother and his husband moved to Seattle when they got married a few years back.  My baby brother is still in Vancouver with his wife and family.  It was just the perfect opportunity at the right time and I jumped at it.”

“Wow that’s brave,” Anders commented.

“Why, because I’m a single woman foraging out in the wild on my own?” she teased Anders.

“Well, not just that, but it’s a huge move.  I mean, it’s not like moving to the next town over, or even the next providence over.  I admire your courage.”  Anders was looking in her eyes.

She looked at his eyes and threw her head back in the deep, sexy laugh, eyes closed and her mouth open, and her beautiful neck just waiting for someone to nibble on it.  “You are so full of shit Anders Johnson!!”

Anders' eyes got wide in shock, “What?  Why do you say that?”

She imitated his voice, “ ‘I admire your courage!’  I hope that wasn’t your best line!”

Now Anders was laughing at himself, “Well, actually I wasn’t trying to give you a line, but the way you say it, it does sound pretty corny!  Shit!  Here I am trying to remain professional and not give you a line, and that’s exactly what I do!”

Charlie took another long drink of her beer.  “Hmmm.  You were trying to remain professional?  Okay I can go along with that.  For a while.”  She finished her beer and set the glass down rather heavily.  She leaned into Anders and gave him a kiss on the lips, “But I won’t wait for long Mr. Johnson.  See you later.”  And with that she got up and walked out of the pub.

Anders wasn’t quite sure what just happened.  But he liked it!

**************

Dawn was thrilled at the news that JPR had signed the Auckland Philharmonic Orchestra as a client! 

“What a coo for us Anders!  We’re moving up in the world! I can’t wait to go with you for the contract signing tomorrow.”

Anders smiled at Dawn’s enthusiasm, “We most certainly have come a long way since dog food commercials Dawnsie.  And you will love Charlie.”

“Don’t you mean Ms. Bouchard?”

“No, I mean Charlie, she asked me to call her Charlie the other night at the concert.  And may I add, she looked absolutely stunning.”

“Anders no!” Dawn laid down a proclamation.

Anders stopped what he was doing and looked up at her, “No what?  What are you talking about?”

“I mean NO!  No you are not bedding Ms Bouchard!  Anders you can’t blow this for us.  Not to mention that it’s totally unprofessional.  So please, promise me that you won’t even think about sleeping with her, please!” Dawn had no qualms about laying down the law to Anders and his habit of bedding any willing participant.

“Dawn!  I am hurt!  How dare you think that I would ever cross the line of professionalism.  And may I add that Charlie was the one to kiss me.  I’m not even sure if I kissed her back, I was so shocked!”  Anders was trying to sound serious about all of Dawn’s points.  Although, much to his credit, Anders had actually made an effort to be professional and serious with the woman.  At least for a couple of hours!

“See this is exactly what I mean.  You’ve already kissed the woman...”

“She kissed me!”

Dawn was totally exasperated by now, and screamed at the ceiling and turned around and went back to her desk, leaving a smiling Anders in her wake.

**********************

Anders actually did keep things professional with Charlie for almost two months which was a personal record for Anders.  After the contracts were signed, JPR hit the ground running in getting a film crew to begin work on the new commercial spots for the orchestra.  There was going to be some CGI used so things were going to be a bit complicated to achieve the effect of orchestra members disappearing from the orchestra and appearing in the audience.  It was not a cheap venture by any means so it required a lot of personal attention by Anders or Dawn, sometimes both, to make sure everything went smoothly, efficiently and as cost-effective as it could possibly be.  Through it all Dawn and Charlie were becoming great friends and every once in a while they would gang up on Anders.  Charlie and Anders were also becoming great friends.

One early evening after Dawn had gone home to Ty and Andrea, Anders was still around the performance hall discussing the next day’s set up with the director of the commercials.  Charlie was on her way out of the building to head home when she saw the discussion going on.  Curious, she walked up to the two men talking.  Anders took a step back to let her in on the conversation.

“We were just going over the set up for tomorrow.  With any luck we will be done filming here by Friday.  Then editing can begin on the first commercial,” Anders explained to her.

Charlie looked at some paperwork from a folder, and then looked up, “That’s almost one week early isn’t it?”

The director shook his head, “Yes ma’am, it is.  Things have moved very well, so that’s helped us a lot.”

Charlie smiled at the director, “Well done you, Robbie!!  And you as well Anders.  Oh, Ander, have you got a minute?”

“Sure.  I think we’re done here, aren’t we Robbie?”

“I think so.  You two have a good night.  Ta.” Charlie smiled at him and watched him walk away.

Anders looked at Charlie, “So, what is it that you wanted to discuss?”

Charlie looked at Anders with a raised eyebrow, “Dinner.  You do eat dinner don’t you?”

Anders looked down to try to hide his smile, “I’ve been known to partake in a meal once in a while.”

“Good.  Because you’re buying.  Gino’s two blocks down on the left.  See you there!”  And with that Charlie left him standing with a smile on his face.

**********************

This time Charlie beat Anders to the restaurant, but she waited for him to go inside.  By the greeting that they received when they walked inside, Ms. Bouchard must have been a regular at the establishment.  

“Hello Charlie!  How are you tonight?”  Gino greeted Charlie with open arms.

“Hello Gino!  Good to see you!  This is my friend Anders.  Anders this is Gino, owner of this fine establishment.”

Anders held out his hand, “Nice to meet you.  It seems Charlie here is a regular.”

Gino laughed, “Oh she certainly is.  Come, let me get you two a table over in the corner.  How’s that sound!”

“Perfect Gino, and a pitcher of sangria please,” Charlie asked.  

Anders was trying to get a closer look of the place while he pulled out the chair for Charlie and then sat down.  “Sangria, huh?  I haven’t had that since my college days.”

“Oh I know, but I can’t resist it when I come here.  I mean just look at the place!  It’s not one of those cheesy chain restaurants.  There’s red and white checked table cloths with wine bottle candles on every table.  The floors are a little sticky, but the food is fabulous and homemade.  You can’t get any better than that!”  Charlie gushed over the place.  Her face was filled with animation as she talked about the restaurant, and Anders was enamoured by it.

Anders took a look at the menu and wasn’t impressed by the stains on it.  After noticing that, he wasn’t sure what might be safe to order.  If he hadn’t been with Charlie he probably never would have stopped at the place with sticky floors.  It made him wonder what the kitchen was like.  “So what’s good here?” he asked Charlie.

“Everything.  I can’t resist the lasagna.  It’s sooo good.  I always get extra to take home for leftovers.  The garlic bread is really good too.”

“Well, that sounds good to me!  So I take it, you’ve been coming here a long time,” Anders asked.

“Oh yes, I found the place a couple of months after I moved here, and I’ve never once found a fly in my food!”  Charlie was teasing Anders because she could tell by the way he looked around that he was leery of the place.  Anders gave her a side eye.

*****************************

Charlie was getting a kick out of watching Anders eat his lasagna.  “You’re ploughing into that like you haven’t eaten in days.”

Anders had to put his fork down and swallow his food before he could talk, “Oh my gosh this is incredible!  This is the best lasagna that I’ve ever had!”

Charlie laughed, “See!  I told you!” She took another drink of her sangria.  “This pitcher is almost empty.  Should we get another one?”

“No, that stuff is stronger than it looks!  And I have to get to work bright and early tomorrow or else Dawn will have my head!”  

Charlie was laughing that beautiful laugh of hers, “She keeps you on a tight leash doesn’t she!  Dawn’s a smart woman, and I hope you appreciate what a gem she is. You better not ever piss her off and lose her,” Charlie warned.

“Oh, don’t worry.  I know exactly how valuable she is.  Although, I’m not sure that I would ever lose her since she’s married to my brother Ty.”

Charlie was done eating and pushed her plate away, “Oh I didn’t realise that.  Were they married before she started working for you?”

“No, no they met at the office.  Although it took them a while to get their shit together and get married.  They have the sweetest little girl named Andrea.  She is definitely Dawn’s mini me with blonde hair and these big, beautiful blue eyes!” Anders was playing the part of a gushing uncle perfectly, although it wasn’t an act.

Charlie smiled at Anders while he talked about her, “Wow, she sure has Uncle Anders wrapped around her little finger!  How old is she?”

“Oh my goodness, I could just eat her up.  She’s a year old.  I can’t wait until she’s a little older so I can take her to lunch and go shopping with her.  I’m going to take her to the best restaurants so she knows just what to order and how to have it cooked.”  Anders dimples couldn’t get any deeper than they were now talking about his niece.

“Oh my look at you!  You’ve got plans for her already.  I’m surprised that you don’t have plans to make her Prime Minister of New Zealand!”  Charlie couldn’t get enough of watching Anders talk about his niece.  It made her wonder if he would ever want kids of his own.

“Hmmm.  Actually, that’s not a bad idea.  You know watching the kids play in the youth orchestra program gave me some ideas for her.  Andrea would look adorable playing a violin!”

“So is this little Andrea named after her uncle?” Charlie asked.

Anders pushed his plate away deciding that he’d had enough, “Well, I think she is.  If you ask my brother he says no.  But if you ask Dawn she just grins and won’t answer the question, which makes me think she is.”  Anders had his devilish smirk on now.

“Well then, she may very well be.  I’d like to meet her sometime, and your brother.”  Charlie was starting to hint around, wanting to know more about this PR manager.  She was definitely interested in getting to know him better, but she didn’t want to move too fast yet.  

The wait staff came and cleared their dishes.  They both declined dessert.

“Well, that could probably be arranged sometime.  Ty and Dawn are both pretty good cooks.  They have a cute house just out of the city with a nice garden for Andrea to play in.”

“So do your other brothers live in the area?” Charlie thought it might be time to poke the bear.

“Uh yeah they do.  So, do you have any nieces or nephews toddling around the tundra of Canada?”  

Shoot, he didn’t bite.  “Yes, I do.  My baby brother and his wife have a two year old and a four year old, with one on the way.  I don’t know if my older brother and his husband have children in their future.  Although, I think that they would both make wonderful dads.”  Anders caught a scar on Charlie’s right cheek when she brushed her hair back out of her eyes.  He almost asked her about it but decided against it.

The waiter brought their leftovers back to them all bagged up and Anders paid the bill.  He was wondering if this would be a good time to ask her out for a real date.  He had definitely enjoyed their meal together tonight, and drinks after the concert that night.  What the hell.

The two were walking back to their cars.  The night air had gotten a little crisp.  What stars that were able to be seen in the city were bright and twinkling.  Anders walked Charlie over to her car.  He was actually nervous and didn’t know why.  It’s not like they didn’t know each other or spent any time together.

“So, um, I was wondering if you would like to go out on a more formal date with me,” Anders was cringing inside.  Where was Braggi when he needed him! 

Charlie smiled at Anders, “By formal, I hope that doesn’t mean I have to wear a formal gown, and you’re in a tux..”

“No! No, I just meant a date where I pick you up, take you out somewhere, maybe hold hands?” Anders was hoping this sounded as smooth as he intended it to.

Charlie was staring him in the eyes now and he was doing his best to not shiver from goosebumps.  “I like holding hands.  My only condition is that I can wear jeans and sneakers.”

Anders chuckled and looked down at his shoes, and then slowly grasped her hand, “That sounds perfect to me.  How does Saturday sound?”  

“I can do Saturday.  Text me what time, and I’ll text you my address.  Deal?”

Anders gently kissed her hand, “Deal.”

***************************

The wheels in Anders’ mind were going a mile a minute on his way home from the restaurant.  He had a nice time.  Wonderful food, good wine, and beautiful and smart company across the table from him.  Those eyes and that hair!  If he didn’t know better, he would swear that Charlie was the goddess of love.  She’s so funny and bold, and sweet and “Fuck!!” Anders yelled inside the car.

“What am I doing?  What am I thinking here??  I can’t fall for her.  That’s not me, that’s not what I do!  Well, I’m just going to have to call off the date Saturday night, that’s all there is to it!  I don’t date.  Everyone knows that, everyone says that.  Anders Johnson doesn’t date!”

Wait…  be smart about this Anders.  If you break off the date now, it might really make things awkward while working with her.  What should I do?  She said jeans and sneakers.  I could take her somewhere stupid, really lame.  Some place that will really turn her off.  But where?  Maybe Ty would know of someplace lame.  I’m sure he does.  I’ll have to talk to him tomorrow.  I only have one day to plan this.

….It’s a shame, because, I really do like her.

[sjsmith56]

The Blonde and the Brunette - Part 5, From There to Here - Bucky Barnes One Shots

Summary: Takes place during Captain America: First Avenger. Bucky sets his sights on Peggy Carter and interferes with Steve’s relationship with her. Recounts the train mission.

Length: 4770 words

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter, Private Lorraine, Howard Stark, assorted members of the Howling Commandoes.

Warnings: Bucky blocking Steve, the story starts out lighthearted but ends with Bucky’s fall.

Author notes: Alternating POVs between Bucky and Steve.

<<Part 4

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Bucky

I knew as soon as I saw her greeting Steve after we walked into the camp like we owned the place that my next girlfriend was standing right in front of me.  She was beautiful, with long dark hair that I wanted to bury my face in, while I was kissing her neck, and undoing her dress, of course.  Along with dark eyes and ruby red lips she was a dream come true.  Then she opened her mouth and the voice, with its British accent, was like silk and I longed to hear it say my name.  Whether it was said as a greeting or in the throes of passion didn't matter to me ... I just wanted to hear her say it.

There was just one small problem.  For some reason, she preferred Steve.  Don't get me wrong, I loved the guy.  Hell, I'd been his protector since he was twelve years old but when he showed up at that factory and found me strapped to that bed mumbling my name, rank, and serial number, I couldn't believe it was him.  How did he gain over 100 pounds of muscle and grow a foot in height in a matter of months?

He said something about an experiment then turned red and realized he probably shouldn't say anything about what was obviously a classified subject.  But I was his best friend, Bucky, and if he couldn't unload his secrets to me then who could he tell?  Whatever they did to him was something.  When he jumped from the other side of that factory to where I was waiting it was like watching a fucking god in action.  I'm getting sidetracked here.

My immediate dilemma was how I could get the lovely Agent Carter to focus her attention on someone worthy of her beauty, namely me.  After we got back to London, shown our quarters, and the quartermaster gave us new uniforms I showered, shaved real nice and close, styled my hair with just a touch of Brylcreem, then went to the pub with the others that had been captives with me, Dugan, Jones, Morita, Falsworth, and Dernier.  It was a bit loud for me where the others were situated so I sat in the quieter snug, nursing my scotch.  Steve talked those suckers into joining his new unit then came in to give me the sales pitch.  As if he had to ask.  I was in ... I just wanted him to sweat a bit. 

Then Peggy Carter walked in wearing this red dress that hugged all the right spots and showed just enough décolletage (it's French for bosom, I think) to make me imagine what the rest of her looked like underneath the dress.  She glanced at me when she came into the snug and walked right up to Steve talking about some equipment that Howard had for him.  She must have meant Howard Stark, yeah ... that Howard Stark whose flying car hit the ground at the Stark Expo in June, the night before I shipped out.  That was the night Connie and Bonnie ... damn, I'm getting sidetracked again.  Thinking of dames will do that to a guy.

Anyways, as I was saying, I was playing it cool and giving Steve some side eye, trying to give him the signal that I got this one but damned if he doesn't check her out, just like all the times I tried to teach him back in Brooklyn.  She looks back at the other guys in the main part of the pub, sitting next to the piano player referring to them as the top team, whatever that was about.

I asked her something along the lines of  "You have a problem with the music?"

She answered that she liked the music just fine, but she's still looking at Steve.  Then she started talking about dancing, still looking at him and ignoring me.  I couldn't believe it!  So, I asked what we're waiting for, giving her my best "I want you" look.  Always worked before.  Without missing a beat, she said, "the right partner" and was still giving Steve her "I want you" look.  It was humiliating.  Finally, she told him what time he needed to meet with Stark and walked out of there like the Queen of England.  Class, pure class, but none of it aimed at me.  I was invisible to her.  In fact, I told Steve I was turning into him, the old him, the 98-pound weakling him.  He just stood there with that smirk on his face.  I taught him too well.  Who knew he was listening all those years, storing up all of my best moves and looks, until the day he used them against me.  Then he had the nerve to comfort me, patting me on the shoulder, saying maybe Carter had a friend for me ... all the things I used to say to him back in Brooklyn.  I'm a hell of a teacher and I needed a plan.

After having a drink with me Steve said he was going to turn in and he headed towards the door.  A luscious blonde walked in, gave him the eye, which he ignored and she shrugged then saw me watching.  With a grin and a walk that said lots she strutted right up to me.

"Buy me a drink, Sarge?" she said, giving me the once over.

I was game.  I hadn't won the attentions of the lovely Agent Carter yet, so I was still free to see other women.  Her name was Lorraine, a private, and she was the secretary for Colonel Chester Phillips.  Steve was supposed to be meeting with Stark in Phillips' office the next morning.  I ordered her a drink then we raised a toast to the brave Captain America where I casually dropped the information that we had been friends since we were boys.  Her eyes brightened.

"Does he have a girlfriend?" she asked eagerly.

Nope.

"Does he want a girlfriend?"

Oh yeah, absolutely.  Didn't tell her at first it was Agent Carter but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

"So, how do I approach him?"

I smiled then took another drink of my scotch. 

"Well, sweetheart," I said, reaching out and grasping one of her curls gently so I could play with it.  "I could tell you or I could show you what he likes.  He does like to play shy and let the girl do the talking but sometimes he really plays the part of the innocent to find out if the girl is really interested.  You have to be prepared to take it to the limit."

A slow smile crossed her face.  "Why are you so interested in helping me?" she asked coyly.

"Well, I have my eye on a certain lady who seems to be your biggest competition," I replied.  "Personally, if I was Steve, I wouldn't even look at her with a doll like you around.  So, by me helping you in how to approach him, you'd be helping me attain the lady I want."

She hummed like she was really contemplating my offer but when she drank her gin and tonic, she gave me the eye that said she was more than game to practice on me before taking on her main target the following morning.  We both finished our drinks and headed out of the pub, checked in at the base then she found a supply room and took a key out of her purse, dangling it in front of me.  She unlocked the door, we went inside, and I told her what to say, showed her what to do, and heard her call out my name in a way that helped me out as well.  I'm a gentleman so I won't say anything else but if it doesn't work out with Peggy Carter then I'll be back to make sweet Lorraine sing out my name again.  I know, I'm an ace in the art of seduction.

Steve

I reported to Colonel Phillips secretary just before 08:00, asking to see Howard Stark.  She was reading a newspaper and I noticed the headline was about the soldiers I helped liberate from the HYDRA factory.  Without looking up she said Stark was meeting with the Colonel then she looked at me and did a quick double take.  Right away she became as sweet as pie and invited me to sit near her.  Then she showed me the headline and I nodded in recognition, still uncomfortable with how they were making me out to be the big hero.  I just did my duty.  That's how I saw it.  She sat there, at her desk, with her legs crossed, casually bouncing her one foot.  She had nice legs, that was for sure.  Then she stood up and said something about the wives of the prisoners being happy about their husband's rescue.  Approaching me in a sultry way, I started feeling a little funny; warm, kind of, and my mouth got a little dry.  I crossed my arms and tried not to look directly at her.  At that moment I kind of wished Bucky was there.  He would know what to do and what to say.  I was definitely in over my head.  Then she said I was a hero, grabbed my tie and said the women of America owed me their thanks.  At least, I think that's what she said.  It all happened so fast, and my heart was beating so loudly in my ears that I barely heard anything, to be honest.  Then she pulled me behind the shelving unit and the next thing I knew her lips were on mine, followed by her tongue.  It was ... really nice, but holy shit, I wasn't sure what to do next.  Do I put my tongue in her mouth?  Do I hold her?  Do I press her against the filing cabinet and unbutton her blouse?  We were in Colonel Phillips' outer office for crying out loud!

"Captain!" said a voice, Peggy Carter's voice, and I jumped. 

So did ... what was her name?  I was kissing a girl and I didn't even know her name. 

"If you're not otherwise occupied, we're ready for you," said Carter, and with a sinking heart I could hear the disappointment in her voice.

I tried to catch up with her to explain that the girl was kissing me instead of me kissing her but Carter didn't want to hear it, saying it was obvious I had found a partner.  As we walked she looked sideways at me, at my tie and I tucked it back inside my jacket.  I might as well have been tucking my ... you know ... back into my pants.  It was awful.  I felt like a cad.  Then Peggy, Agent Carter, said I was just like all the other soldiers and I saw red.  I was angry and asked about her and Howard Stark.  I mean, I heard how he talked to her.  It was obvious something was going on between them and she was judging me after one kiss, that I didn't even ask for.  The look she gave me and the words she said made me feel like I was six inches high.  Howard heard what she said and patted me on the back after she stomped off. 

"We haven't done anything," he said.  "Not for lack of trying on my part, believe me.  Do yourself a favour.  Don't ever assume you know anything about women because if even I have trouble with winning the affections of Agent Carter, you have even less chance."

He showed me a uniform made out of material that would deflect a bayonet.  Then he patted my shield from the USO show that came in handy when I freed the prisoners and showed me some samples of a shield I could use for real in battle.  I saw a round one under the table and although he tried to downplay using it, once I put my hand in the harness it felt right, like it was meant for me.  At that moment Agent Carter came into the lab and asked Stark if we were done.  I showed her the shield, anxious to try and get back in her good graces.  Damned if she didn't pick up a pistol and shoot at the shield sending bullets ricocheting everywhere!  Then she gave me a look that said she was still angry at me but there was something more with it and I realized that it was like the times Bucky's parents were having a disagreement and even though you could tell they were both angry there was another look that Bucky said was their "Just wait until I get you alone look."  He never explained to me what he meant by that, but I think that was the look that Peggy Carter gave me, and it made me feel warmer than the kiss that secretary gave me; a warmth that I felt deep inside me.

Bucky

When Steve asked me about the look my parents would give each other when they were working their way through being mad at each other I knew the competition was over.  If Peggy Carter was that angry at catching Lorraine kissing Steve, she liked him a lot more than I figured.  The guy sat on my bunk looking miserable and I felt guilty about turning Lorraine loose on him.  Sitting across from him I leaned over and cleared my throat.

"I'm sorry," I said.  "I wanted a clear path to Agent Carter and I thought if I could get you involved with someone else then I could ...."

He looked up and the betrayal on his face was almost more than I could bear.

"You?  You were in love with Peggy?" he asked.

"No, but I would have liked a chance to make her fall in love with me," I said.  "Six months ago she wouldn't have given you the time of day and then you show up looking like this."  I waved my hands at his physique.  "What chance did I have?"

"Bucky, she was there when I was transformed," he said.  "She rode in the car with me to the lab.  She was at Camp Lehigh when I was in basic training and she always talked to me, always made time for me."

"She was?" I asked, flabbergasted.  "Shit, buddy, I'm so sorry.  I didn't know."  Now I felt worse, mostly because it was Steve I tried to block.  "When you showed up looking like this, I just assumed she was like all the other women on this base who were panting for you.  But if she was your friend back in New York, then she liked you for you."

Steve didn't say anything for the longest time and I was worried I had poisoned my friendship with him.  But Steve never did stay angry for long and he finally looked up at me.

"You were jealous of my looks?  You, Bucky Barnes, ladies man, scourge of fathers all throughout Brooklyn?"

He began to laugh, reaching forward and clapped me on the shoulder.  Then he gripped it hard and looked at me with a determined look.

"I'll give you a pass on it this time but do it again and we'll have more than words."

"Hey, I'm out," I replied, showing him my empty hands.  "I won't stand in your way.  She's worth it.  She's no dame, she's a lady."

Steve smiled and relaxed his grip.  Then he looked at me.  "Explain it to me what it means when a couple are angry at each other but they give each other a look that says they're still angry but they're not?"

"You punk," I said.  "It means that the makeup sex is going to be fantastic.  You missed out on so much not having your dad around.  You do know what to do with a girl when you get her into bed, right?"  He didn't answer.  "Jesus, Steve, you don't know?"

"It's not like my mother could explain it in detail," he replied, his face a dark shade of pink.  "Everything I do know I've learned from you and even you haven't been all that forthcoming about the actual deed.  I mean, you have your own code when it comes to discussing your girlfriends, which I admire, by the way."

I smiled.  It was true I didn't brag about the girls I was with.  There were guys that did, and I saw how it affected the girls who they talked about.  With a sister of my own if I heard a guy talking about her like that, I would kick his ass.  Going to my footlocker I dug down to the bottom and pulled out a bottle of scotch.

"I could put you on report for that," said Steve.

"But you won't," I replied.  "Because I'm your friend and I'm going to tell you how to make a woman happy in bed.  It's a lot more fun if she's enjoying it along with you.  Too many guys just want to get their own pleasure and forget that she needs to get something out of it as well."

I poured out a glass for each of us and for the next half hour told him everything I knew.  There were even times I demonstrated with my hands or drew a picture for him, as bad as my drawings were.  He sat there, asked more than a few questions, and took everything I said to heart.  In a way, it was graduation for him, and I was happy to help him.  For too many years he had been ignored and passed over by all the girls we grew up with which was wrong because he would have worshipped the ground they walked on and would have treated any of them right.  If anyone deserved to have my knowledge passed on to them, it was Steve.

For the next couple of weeks, we were busy training, learning to work as a team.  It was exhausting and no one went out to the pub after because all we had energy for was to go into the mess hall, eat our meals and then crawl into bed, hoping to get enough sleep so we could do the same thing the next day.  It was worth it because when we had our first mission as a team it was like we knew exactly what everyone else was doing.  I had my sniper perch covering everyone's back and kept my sniper rifle busy enough that the others could get the job done.  That doesn't mean I wasn't in on the attacks.  There were times I was right there beside Steve and the others, machine guns blazing as we kicked in doors and took the fight to HYDRA.  It was exciting times and I felt we were making headway against those Nazi villains.

Steve

It was great having Bucky on the team.  All those years as kids when we pretended we were in the Great War came back to me when we did it for real.  Half the time Bucky was the unit sniper, taking out threats before we attacked our objective.  Then he would trade his sniper rifle for a machine gun and join the rest of the Howling Commandos in infiltrating our target.  It was heady times, and the Army were so impressed that they assigned a photographer to the unit. 

"For posterity," they said. 

Yeah, so we could make Colonel Phillips's bosses look good.  He didn't care about the publicity, just the results and we got them.  On one of our returns to base he pulled the team into a Quonset hut, set guards on the outside and looked at all of us like the next mission was the most important one yet.

"There's a train," he said.  "It regularly makes the trip between the HYDRA bases carrying supplies and soldiers.  It's powered by the Tesseract, which is one of our targets.  Our second target is the man in control of that train.  Dr. Arnim Zola."

The projector put an image up on the wall and all of us gasped.  He was the little man with Johann Schmidt in the HYDRA factory in Kreischberg.  I looked at Bucky and could see his eyes were narrowed, full of anger.  He never spoke about what they did to him in the HYDRA lab in Austrian factory but it couldn't have been good.  Right then I knew he wanted to be by my side on this mission, no matter what. 

We had a week to train just for this mission.  Three of us had to get on that train then find the Tesseract and Dr. Zola.  Only three could go because we only had time for three to ride a cable line across the ravine and drop onto the top of the train while it sped along the track.  There was only one place to set up the cable line that wouldn't smack us into the mountainside.  Partisans were setting up that line as we trained.  With us in control of the train we would bring it to a pre-arranged stop where we take the Tesseract, the doctor, then blow the train and track up.  As leader I was going.  Before I even had a chance to ask for volunteers Bucky said he was in.

"Buck, you don't like heights and it's several hundred feet up the side of a narrow ravine," I told him.

"I want in," he said through gritted teeth.  "I want payback for what that asshole put me through."

So, Bucky was in.  We just needed a third person.  I asked for volunteers, but everyone put up their hand.  Guess they all wanted payback against that doctor as well.  So, we put names in a hat and Private Gabe Jones was the lucky third.  The three of us practiced on a cable line at the base until we got the timing down just right.  Word came from the partisans that the train was leaving from one of the far bases.  If it followed the pattern of stops it had previously it should be going through where the cable line was rigged in two days.  The whole team headed out and two days later we were there.  Gabe was monitoring the radio to hear from the source when the train was on its way.  Bucky took a look from our vantage point at where we would drop and asked if this was payback for the time he made me ride the Cyclone at Coney Island.  He never did like heights but then I didn't like throwing up all over myself either.  Our unit photographer chose that moment to take a picture of the two of us.

At that point Gabe spoke as he listened to the German voices on the radio.  "You're right, that Dr. Zola is on the train.  They're moving at top speed and will be here pretty quick."

I put my helmet on and grabbed the handle on the cable line, waiting for the word.  It wasn't long in coming.  Falsworth was watching through binoculars further up the line for the train as it came into his view.  He turned and looked at us three with some concern.

"It's moving pretty fast."

I estimated we had about a ten second window to get all three of us on that train.  Gripping that handle hard I waited for Dernier to give me the signal then I jumped off and slid down that cable like a bat out of hell.  I felt the line bounce twice behind me and knew Bucky and Gabe were holding on for dear life.  Just like we practiced the cable was strung out over the length of the train and we dropped down onto the top of it.  Carefully stepping along the length we got to where there was a doorway while Gabe covered our backs.  He would keep moving towards the front of the train, to stop the engineer.  Bucky and I were going inside, hopefully to find the Tesseract and the doctor.

Inside, Bucky and I were instantly on alert as there was no one, no guards, no signs that we had been detected, nothing.  Neither of us liked it but we had no choice and we began moving towards the front of the train.  I walked through the open connection between this car and the next when suddenly a double door shut down, separating me from Bucky.  Through the windows I saw him turn and fire his machine gun at someone entering through the far end.  Hearing a sound behind me I saw another guy, a big guy, loaded with a couple of guns I had never seen before.  I fired at him and his guns fired a blue pulse at me.  Same type of weapon that was on the HYDRA tanks at their factory in Austria.  It took a bit of doing but I finally got him down and used his weapon to blow a hole back to the car where Bucky was trapped.  Through the window of his door I could see he was out of ammo so I got my weapon ready, opened the door and tossed it to him.  Running interference for my friend I raced towards the other soldier sending him out into the open and Bucky took him out.  Suddenly, from behind us I heard the whine of a pulse weapon charging and pushed Bucky down while lifting my shield to take the brunt of the charge, deflecting it into the side of the train car and blowing a hole to the outside.  I was dazed and the soldier was about to charge up again when Bucky grabbed the shield and began to fire on him.  Just as he walked in front of that hole the pulse weapon fired and Bucky disappeared while my shield fell to the floor.  Grabbing it I threw it at the soldier, taking him down and I raced to the hole, looking outside.

"Bucky!" I called, hoping beyond hope that he had somehow held on to something to keep from falling.

He was holding on to a railing and I yelled at him to hold on while I edged closer, hoping to get my hand to his before the railing gave way.  Just as he moved to grab my hand the railing broke and I watched in horror as my best friend fell down into that icy ravine, his screams already drowned out by the sound of the train speeding away from that spot.  It was all rocks and the bottom was hundreds of feet down.  He was gone ... Bucky was gone.  I wept at that moment not just for his death but my own failure to save him.  Me, Captain America, couldn't even save his closest friend from dying.

We accomplished getting the doctor and took him back with us to England although the train didn't carry the Tesseract itself, as it was powered by a portion of its energy.  I went to the pub where Bucky told me he was following that little guy from Brooklyn.  Damned if it hadn't been bombed while we were gone.  I looked in the debris and found some intact bottles, hoping to get drunk, although I knew I wouldn't.  While sitting there crying some more I heard foot steps and turned to see Peggy at the door into the snug.  She tried to tell me it wasn't my fault but I knew deep down that Bucky only joined the unit because of me.  If I wasn't so keen on him being with the Howling Commandos he could have been back with the 107th in the regular war, not fighting some enhanced Nazis with weapons greater than ours.  Peggy gave me a pep talk, telling me to respect Bucky's choice to fight alongside me.  Then I told her that I wasn't going to stop until all of HYDRA was stopped or captured.  She nodded her head at that, saying I wouldn't be alone.  Looking behind the remains of the bar counter she found an unbroken glass and wiped it out with a scarf she was wearing.  Putting it on the table she motioned for me to pour her a drink.

"To Sergeant Bucky Barnes," she said.  "Friend to a little guy from Brooklyn, and a brave, brave man."

Giving her a grim smile we drank to Bucky and she stayed with me until we finished the bottle, even after we left the bombed out pub.

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