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flamencodiva · 3 years

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Bottom of the Bottle 2 - Sneaking Back on Stage

Description: Dean was at the peak of stardom until his world came crashing down. Can he find his way back to the top?

Word Count: 5340

Warnings for entire series: Smut (oral female and male receiving, P in V, Threesomes, Fingering, Orgies) Fluff, Angst, Violence, Language, Mentions of Drug use, Drinking, Mentions of Death.

Songs in this chapter: Partial Lyrics of Brother's Osbourn Ain't My Fault and Full lyrics of Down don't Bother Me by The Derek Truck Band

Beta'd by: @wonder-cole

Aesthetic by: @firefly-graphics

Dividers by: @talesmaniac89

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

<< Chapter 1

Dean pulled the bike up on the driveway and parked her next to his father’s truck. Then, killing the engine, he hopped off with a smile. Finally, Dean found a place where he could start over, a place he could play and live again. He found a small spring in his step and ran his fingers through his short hair. He was glad it was quick. His years with Purgatory had the band growing out his hair long. He hated it, but it was for the image. At the time, he would do anything just to be able to be involved in music and if growing his hair long was the worst of it, it was worth it to him.

But the minute that he was put in jail and kicked out of the band for something he didn’t do, he was glad to be rid of it. He was happy to cut off the long hair and return to his short locks. Turning the key to unlock the door, he let himself in to find his father sitting at the dining room table, hands folded on top of it.

“You could have gone to bed, you know,” Dean muttered as he placed the helmet on the table in the foyer and shrugged off his jacket to put it on the hook, “I told you I was going to be back.”

“Where did you go?” John asked as he looked up at Dean.

“Out,” Dean huffed, “I’m not a kid anymore, dad. So I went out, the bike had a wire come loose, I was close to a place, got help, came back.”

“You can’t do that again, Dean,” John said as he got up from the table.

“Do what? Go out and have fun? Go out and try to find some friends?” Dean asked, “I’m confused as to what you want from me here. I’m already working at the garage. I’m living under your thumb. I have a damn motorcycle instead of Baby.”

“I just wanted you to think before you went out,” John said as he walked to Dean, “I know you love to sing, and you love music, but it isn’t everything.”

“It’s all I have!” Dean practically yelled. “You know you started spewing all this bullshit about how I abandoned this family and ran away and couldn’t wait to leave,” Dean ran a hand across his face. “I wanted to go out and explore and find myself. You want to know the fucked up thing?” he walked up to his father, “I came back when Sam called me about mom. Not you,” he poked at John’s chest, “Sam, he called me to tell me mom was sick. You were the coward who couldn’t even face me to tell me my mother was dying!”

“Would you have answered the phone if it was me?” John muttered. “You have to admit, the minute you signed that contract, you wanted to high tail it out of here faster than a damn wolf chasing its prey.”

Dean looked down at the floor and licked his lips, “I wanted to get away from you. Not mom, not Sam, you. Because I was so mad and disappointed that my own father didn’t want me to follow something I was good at, something that gave me life.” Dean walked over to a picture of his mother and let his fingers graze over it, “I came every chance I could. I was in that hospital by her side when you didn't know it. I always waited for you and Sam to leave because I didn’t want to fight you while she was fighting Cancer.”

Dean wiped the stray tear that was falling down his cheek and shook his head.

“But it doesn’t matter. Nothing mattered, not that money I gave for the treatments or the fact that I tried to get Mom one of the best specialists I could find.” he turned to face his dad. “Music is in me, and I can feel it. What hurt me wasn’t mom dying. It was the fact that my own father thought of me as a disappointment when I made it big.”

John let his son’s words sink in before heading to the stairs, “A lot of good that fame and fortune did. You became part of a group that, in the end, it brought you back down to zero.” John was halfway up the stairs before he stopped, “you called me a coward for not calling you, but you’re a coward for not manning up to face me at that hospital.”

John’s footsteps began to fade as he ascended the staircase and retreated to his bedroom, leaving Dean to stew in his anger. Dean let out a frustrated growl with his jaw clenched and stomped up the stairs towards his old room. Why was his dad so adamant about keeping him locked up in a cage? He was already in a cell for six months, and he hated every minute of it. Apart from the fact that he could write a few lyrics, he hated being in that damn jail. He didn’t do anything wrong, and everyone tried to fight him for being a damn rock star.

Entering his room, he could see the boxes from his old home scattered around. Some boxes labeled clothing, some marked notebooks, and a few just miscellaneous. Walking to the box labeled notebooks, Dean tore the tape out and pulled out one of his more recently used ones. His fingers grazed over the pages before he turned to his bag full of his things from jail. Reaching inside, he pulled out a small booklet he had filled with some lyrics he had.

Dean didn’t go to bed right away that night. Instead, he took that time to filter through the small notebook and transferred his lyrics to his larger notebook. The memory of Y/N on stage seemed to haunt him. She looked at peace being up on that stage, almost ethereal, an angel ready to spread her wings and fly. Putting down his pen, his eyes roamed his room before settling on the silhouette of his guitar case. Sure, Dean had plenty of guitars, but this one, this one was special, and he was surprised to see it propped up in the familiar corner of his room.

Getting up from his chair, he walked over towards it, pulled the hard case out, and placed it on his bed. Opening up the latches, he lifted the lid and smiled. There nestled nice and snug was a Fender FA-100 Dreadnought Acoustic Guitar. He loved this guitar and hadn't been able to play it for years. He felt almost sad that he had it with him but could never really pull it out to play often. It was a birthday gift for his 17th birthday from his mother. Sure, she said it was from both her and his father, but Dean had a feeling it was more his mother than his old man.

Gently pulling it out of the case, Dean sat on his bed and placed the guitar on his right thigh, the fingers on his left hand holding down a chord on the fret before he strummed it. He winced at the awful sound that came out. It needed tuning. He looked around his room using the tiny light from his desk lamp and smiled when his eyes landed on the corkboard above his headboard. There, pinned to it, was his favorite pick. It was one of the few things his father did give him that he loved, a pick that he had seen in the music store that he had to have.

Taking a deep breath, Dean began to pluck at the strings and turn on the knobs to find the right notes. There was something about the way he felt holding his guitar that sent a shiver down his spine. Dean missed this feeling, and he kicked himself for letting the image geniuses at the label dictate that he should only be the voice of the band. Focusing on his tuning, he continued to play with the knobs until he was sure the guitar had the right notes to play.

With one last strum, he hummed in satisfaction at the sweet sound. He moved his fingers along the fret, strumming at the strings when a melody came to mind. He wasn't sure of the tempo, but he knew the notes he wanted to play. Adjusting himself and the guitar, he cleared his throat and let the music flow through him.

“Blame the whiskey on the beer, blame the beer on the whiskey,” he let out and smiled, “I like the sound of that,” he chuckled before grabbing his notebook and scribbling it down.

He continued to find the melody, and he figured a slow rhythm was a good fit for the song. At least that’s what he felt.

“Blame the bar for the band, blame the band for the--” he paused as he tried to find the right word, “song? Yeah, that works,” he wrote it down and shook his head gently.

His mind began to fill with doubt as he looked down at the lyrics. Was he really going to try to get back into music? Could he really deal with being a label stooge? He wanted to make music, sure, but it needed to be his music.

“You got this, Winchester,” he calmed himself, “You’ve been playing music for a long time. This is a good song.” he licked his lips and looked down at his fingers, “you had these lyrics in your head for a while, you just gotta get them out.

He continued to strum on his guitar and progressed as much as he could. He had gotten to the first round of the bridge before yawning. But, looking over at the clock, it was well past two in the morning, and he had to try to get as much sleep as he could.

The following day, Dean woke up to his father banging on his door.

“Wake up,” John called through the door, “I’m headed to the garage. You should head out soon. Coffee is already brewed.”

Dean let out a groan and ran a hand across his face to try and wake up fully. He stretched his body before forcing himself to get up. Dean looked at the open notebook on the floor and sighed. He had to finish the lyrics and try to memorize the song by tonight if he wanted to show Benny up. He didn’t like that Benny thought he would use Y/N for his own personal gain. That wasn’t in Dean’s nature at all. Besides, if the song was a hit, he could perform the other songs he had lying around, but he had to find a way to hide it from his dad.

Walking to his window, he looked outside and sighed. The sun was just rising, and he could hear the birds chirping on the nearby tree. Opening the window, he leaned on the windowsill when something caught his peripheral vision. He turned his head slightly to see the trellis that ran up the side of the house by his window. Reaching over, he pulled on it and gave a pouted shrug.

“Still feels sturdy,” he muttered to himself before looking down and feeling his pulse race. “You can do this,” he said, looking at the height, “you did it back in high school to go sneak over to ‘easy’ Gracie's house.” he reminded himself. “That and all of Mullet’s parties to play a gig.”

With a nod, he began formulating his plan. He spared no time in grabbing his clothes and getting dressed. His notebook was tight under the crook of his arm as he made his way downstairs to grab a coffee. His father had already left, leaving him alone. With a coffee mug in his hand, he used his free hand to write out the rest of his lyrics before looking at the time and dashing towards the front door. He made sure he kept the notebook close to him as he got ready for his bike ride to the garage.

He kept to himself as he placed certain things in his locker before grabbing his coveralls and put them on over his clothes. Then, his notebook in hand, he walked over to the work orders board and picked a clipboard to work on for the day. In between changing the oil on a few cars, replacing brake pads, and rotating tires, Dean had finished writing and found himself memorizing the lyrics he wrote out.

“I got my hand’s up. I need an alibi,” Dean muttered, “find me a witness who can testify.”

The melody was slow and funeral-like, and for the most part, it worked. What mattered to him right now was memorizing the damn words so he could get them out. He was sure the melody would change later, as he kept bouncing from uptempo to slow funeral march. It was hard trying to find a good beat, but he wasn’t sure what direction he was going. Was he going to stick to the complex rock rhythm he got used to with purgatory? Or was he going to go to his country roots?

He didn’t notice his father looking at him closely, the sad look on John's face as he recognized that Dean was writing lyrics. The old man could always tell when Dean was working on a song. Dean could never sit still when he was inspired, and the fact that Dean kept tapping different rhythms during the day wasn’t helping him hide it. But John was out of ideas, and the last thing he needed was to find his son on the news where they were announcing his death. It was bad enough seeing his son being arrested on the news, but to have his death broadcasted would absolutely shatter him. John had tried so hard to shelter Dean from getting the performance bug, but it seemed like the tighter John held on, the more Dean slipped through his fingers.

The rest of the day, Dean had played with a few different melodies in his head, but nothing seemed to stick. By the time he had memorized the song, it was time to close the garage. Dean had put his coverall back in his locker and walked over to his bike.

“Dean?” John called.

“Yeah,” Dean answered, turning to face his father.

“What do you think about heading over to the diner we always used to go to for dinner?”

Dean looked at his watch and then back up to his Dad. He still had some time to head home and grab his guitar and sneak out, “yeah, sounds good. Need to have that famous burger of theirs. I missed it when I was up in KC,” Dean said with a tight-lipped smile.

“Okay, I’ll meet you there,” John nodded his head as he let Dean go before him, “I gotta lock up, so you go ahead and see if they can get us in a booth.”

“Sure,” Dean called out before putting his helmet on and zipping up his jacket.

The ride to the dinner wasn’t too bad. It was short. To begin with and Dean made it with perfect time to grab the last available booth. Dean ordered a burger for himself along with a beer and a slice of pie for after. The waitress was about to leave when John appeared and slid in.

“I’ll have the meatloaf and a water, Jenny, thanks,” he said to the young waitress.

“You got it, John, coming right up,” she smiled at the elder Winchester before turning to Dean and winking, “I get off at 8.”

Dean offered her a smile before turning to his father, “you come here a lot then?”

“Haven’t really cooked since your mother died,” John muttered as he looked at Dean. “You did good work today,” he changed the subject, “I was thinking about showing you how to run the books and showing you all the accounts, you know, get you ready to take over.”

“Dad--” Dean sighed, “I love working at the garage, I do, but it won’t make me happy.”

“Because music makes you happy,” John scoffed, “look what music did to you!” he pointed out.

“You know as well as I do that it was the industry, not the music. Those are two different things!” Dean argued.

John shook his head before running a hand across his face, “look, you need a backup, and I need someone I can trust to take over.”

“You planning on retiring soon?” Dean let out as he leaned back in his seat.

“Maybe,” John sighed, “I can’t run the garage forever, and I don’t want to sell it.”

Dean looked at his father’s face and could see the hurt in his eyes, “you really love that garage.”

“It’s my second love to my family,” John said as he folded his hands together over the table. “Just think about it?”

“I guess I can do that,” Dean muttered as their waitress, Jenny, came by with their food.

“You know she’s single,” John commented as he grabbed his fork to dig into his meatloaf.

“I don’t need dating help,” Dean let out as he grabbed his burger in his hands, “besides, I’m not looking for attachments.”

“Sometimes they’re a good thing, though,” his father commented after swallowing his food.

Dean rolled his eyes, “after the fiasco with Lisa, no thanks.”

“You’ll find someone,” John chuckled, “I don’t think I ever met Lisa.”

“Thank your lucky stars for that,” Dean huffed. “All she cared about was the fame and notoriety. Then I caught her with some publicist screwing in my bed,” he shook his head, “then again, I was nailing two, maybe three girls at a time so… no skin off my back when I cut her loose.”

John stayed silent for a minute, digesting what his son was saying, “so you went for the sex god approach then.”

“Better than being the drug addict,” Dean shook his head and took a bite of one of his fries, “the alcohol helped to just dull the senses anyways. I was a pretty face and a voice for the band, that’s it.”

John could hear the unhappiness in his voice and see the pain radiating in his son’s eyes over not making the music he wanted. It hurt John for a bit, but it also had him thinking about how it might help keep Dean home and safe.

“The business can chew you up and spit you out pretty easily.”

Dean watched as his father continued to eat his meatloaf, letting the conversation die. Yet, he knew where it would lead if he kept the conversation going.

Finishing his meal, Dean cleaned up his face and reached for his wallet before John stopped him.

“I got this son, you go on home, or are you going back out for a ride?” John asked.

“I need to rest, so I’ll be up in my room,” Dean lied as he slid out of the booth. “So I’ll be in bed by the time you get home, maybe.”

“Okay, I’ll be up watching some tv, so I’ll try not to make too much noise,” John pulled out his wallet and a few bills to place on the table.

Dean walked out and towards his bike just as John got into his truck.

On the ride home, Dean was thinking of what his escape plan would be. He already knew he would climb down the trellis, but his guitar had to come with him. Reaching the house, both men stayed in silence as they went their separate ways. Dean closed his door and put the lock on for good measure. He felt like a teenager hiding from his parents, but he knew his father would never understand. And honestly, Dean really had no place to go, and if he had to keep his musical exploits a secret, then so be it. One could say he wanted to try to impress a particular bartender he met last night, also wondering if he would hear her sweet voice again. Grabbing his case, he looked around for something he could use to strap it to his back, finding a rope he could use on the fly.

Once he was sure that the case was secured to his back, Dean carefully climbed out of the window to sit on the windowsill. He moved as carefully as he could, making sure to avoid making too much noise with his guitar case and getting it out of the window. He breathed a small sigh of relief when he reached the trellis and slowly began to climb down.

“You got this, Dean,” he said to himself as he made sure to place his foot on the holes as he climbed down. “Just like that time you snuck out to head over to the bonfire,” he took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in his throat, “granted you also missed a small hole and fell when you reached the last foot off the ground, but you did it.”

Finally reaching the bottom of the trellis, Dean gave a small jump and smiled in satisfaction. Heading to his bike and rolling it away from the house to not make any noise when he started the engine. Once he was a block away, at least, his night began. The ride to Rusty’s was smooth, and Dean could see it already start to fill with patrons. Parking his bike, he adjusted his guitar and made his way inside. His smile grew when he saw Y/N at the bar already taking orders.

“You know we really do have to stop meeting like this,” he called out with a smile when she turned to him.

“Does that line work? I mean, right now, it just seems like you’re trying too hard,” she let out as she walked over to him, “going to drink, perform, or both?”

“Both,” he answered, “know where I can find Jo?”

“She’s over by the stage taking names for tonight,” she pointed over to the blond who was talking to a few groups.

“Wait,” Dean squinted a bit, “That’s Jo Harvelle? I know Jo,” Dean smiled and turned to face Y/N, “Will you be performing tonight?”

“Nope,” she sighed, popping the ‘p.’ “Yesterday was a fluke. I was filling in for someone.”

“I’m going to go talk to Jo,” Dean said before leaning over and taking Y/N’s arm gently before she could leave. “Whoever told you that you weren’t amazing last night was lying to you, sweetheart.” He let her go before she could give him a counterargument and made his way to the stage with his guitar strapped to his back.

As he approached the stage, he could feel a hand pull him back, and a person walked past him.

“Hey,” he called out, “do you mind?”

“Why yez, ah do mind,” the familiar Cajun voice said, “didn’ tink youz goin’ tah show up.”

Dean gave Benny a cocky smile before huffing, “I did tell you I would see you. Let me guess you have a song to sing tonight too?”

“Betta’ than what chu have to play i’m zure,” Benny chuckled, “I didn’ tink dat dey let chu play an inztrumentz.”

“I was playing the guitar before I ever joined that group,” Dean said with a low growl, “how the hell did you recognize me anyway.”

“The long lockz don’ matta to me brotha,” Benny sighed, “but da eyez are da windows to da soul.”

“You and everyone else seem to recognize me,” Dean muttered, “well, you can go ahead and sing your song before me,” Dean offered him a sly smile, “I’m sure I can bring the house down.”

Benny let out a scoff before turning away to walk towards Jo, “good luck wit dat brotha.”

Dean watched as Benny talked to Jo, who gave him a quick nod while jotting down a note. Once she was done, the Cajun turned around and checked Dean on the shoulder.

“Good luck up, der,” he chuckled at Dean, “you lookz like you need it.”

Dean clenched his jaw as Benny walked away. The guy really didn’t like him. Dean didn’t do anything. Hell, most people’s assumptions of him now have to do with the damn drug charge. Shaking his head, he walked up to Jo and adjusted the guitar strapped to his back. As he walked up to the young blond, he couldn’t help but smile as a memory of a young girl in pigtails flashed before him.

“Never thought you’d grow out of the pigtail stage,” he said as he stood in front of her.

“Well, well, well,” she said, chuckling before pulling him into a tight hug, “never thought the infamous Dean Winchester would grace us with his presence. I thought this place would be too. country for you?”

“I want to sign up to perform,’ he let out with a deep breath.

“Fees $20 to perform,’ she sighed.

“Performance fee?” Dean scoffed, “Really, Jo? Who the hell came up with that?”

“Look,” Jo sighed, “The $20 goes for every and all performers. It’s a small fee for renting out the stage. Besides, you get more in tips if people really like you.”

Dean grumbled as he fished in his pockets for a twenty-dollar bill. He handed it to Jo and shook his head, “I’m only going to be singing the one song.”

“Okay,” Jo wrote down his name and smiled, “You can wait by the bar and order some food. I’ll have someone pull you to the back about three performers before you.” She reached over and pulled him into a hug, “Welcome home, Dean. I have a feeling this is going to be a fresh start for you. You never looked right with that band.”

Dean smiled as he hugged her back, “Thanks, Jo.”

With that, Jo pulled away to let him walk towards the bar with his guitar still on his back. Approaching the bar, Dean smiled, seeing Y/N smile as she served customers. Her laugh reached his ears, and it pulled at him. There was a sense of comfort he felt from listening to Y/N’s laugh. Her laugh was very familiar to him. Walking to the bar, he pulled up a stool and sat down to wait for his turn. He wanted to try out his new song, but he wasn’t sure about the tempo yet. He continued playing around with different beats, but all he could come up with was a depressing march, but it didn’t seem to fit the song at all. With a groan, Dean decided to get something in his stomach while he waited.

“You look like you got something bothering you, Gringo.”

Dean snapped his head up from the menu to see Y/N leaning over the bar top towards him.

“Just trying to figure out what to eat before I have to head up on stage,” He chuckled, trying to shrug off the nervous feeling he had on him. “Besides, Benny’s gonna get mad if he sees you talking to me.”

“I can handle Benny,” Y/N offered him a smile, “besides, I’m the only bartender here, so I’m doing my job.”

“What do you recommend from the kitchen?” Dean asked as he licked his lips. There was something alluring about Y/N, but at the same time, he felt as though he had known her from before their encounter in the coffee shop.

“Honestly? The ultimate bacon burger,” Y/N answered. “It’s got premium Angus beef, with nice crispy bacon, a chipotle aioli, lettuce, tomatoes, and pickles. Not to mention you can have it with steak fries or onion rings.”

“That actually sounds good. I’ll have that and a bottle of Margiekugels,” Dean closed up the menu and sighed, “So is there ever a chance I’m going to see you on stage again?”

Y/N looked over at him as she put in his order on the digital register, “I don’t know,” she sighed, “it was just a one-time thing being up there.”

“Well, if you ever want to go up there again,” Dean said before taking a sip of his beer, “I could always be your backup.”

“Look,” Y/N shook her head with a slight huff. “I know all about you. Just because you cut your hair doesn’t mean that people aren’t going to recognize those big green eyes of yours,” she gave him a soft glare. “I’m not into rock stars, so do me a favor and just find someone else to play with, okay?”

Dean let out a small huff with a smirk, “well, screw you then, sweetheart.”

He took another sip of his beer and shook his head.

“You think you know me because of what the media says about things I didn’t even do? Then fine, you know me. But in reality, you’re just a scared little bitch who wants to stay behind the bar counter.” he grabbed his guitar as he got off the stool. “You can have them send my burger to the table in the corner over there,” he pointed towards the back of the saloon and slapped some money on the counter, “keep the change.”

He stalked off with his beer and guitar, chest full of anger as he looked up to see Benny had already gone on stage and was singing a song. The people were cheering and hollering for him.

Goin' 'round in circles

Pickin' out a cue

Travelin' with no memory

Ow, in my shoe

Down don't bother me.

If the music say

You can take a picture baby

Time won't care

And you're my second nature

A-coming over me

And though I might be shakin'

Down don't bother me no more.

Down don't bother me no more

As Benny finished his song, Dean rolled his eyes as everyone in the crowd cheered and whistled. Seemed like Benny has a crew of regulars that come to see him. He took a swig of his beer, smacking his lips and smiling at the waitress who brought his burger to him. Dean could feel Y/N staring, but he didn’t care. She had made up her mind, and he was done trying to prove to people that he wasn’t an asshole.

Finishing up his burger, he watched as Benny made his way over and rolled his eyes. He should have known that the seat he picked was closest to the kitchen.

“I’ze hope chu enjoyed dat performaze brotha,” Benny chuckled, “chu look like you could yuz da luck.”

“I don’t need luck,” Dean grumbled, “I know my skills, so why don’t you go back to yours and leave me and mine alone.”

Benny lifted his hands in surrender and let out a laugh, “didn’t mean ta hit a sore spot witch you. Enjoy da burga.”

Dean shook his head as Benny walked into the kitchen. His nerves were starting to get the best of him as he could feel his hands shake. Looking at his guitar propped up in the chair, his mind began to spin with thoughts.

‘What the fuck am I doing?’ his mind shouted. ‘People are going to hate this song. I don’t even have a tempo yet!’

He could feel his heart race. Nothing could get him to snap out of it. At least, not until Jo came up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, making him jerk.

“Hey,” she gave him a warm smile. “You got two performers before you. You should head backstage. I’ll show you the way.”

Dean nodded numbly as he followed her, not noticing an old friend watching him as he disappeared behind a black curtain.

Chapter 3

Tags in the Reblog

#Bottom of the Bottle #Rockstar!Dean Winchester #Rockstar AU #Dean Winchester Fic #Dean Winchester Fan Fiction #Supernatural AU #Supernatural Fiction #Rockstar!Dean Winchester x Reader #Angst #Fluff #Smut #mentions of orgies #Mentions of drug abuse #Alcoholism #violence #fake dating #language

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rayofsunas · 4 years

Text

haikyuu!! as dads (pt.1)

A/n: hello! starting off with a clean slate here yay! if some of the first few seem so short and the writing seems different, it’s because I wrote half of this like three days ago- anywways, requests are open btw!!

Summary: haikyuu characters as dads/domestic living.

Pairings: Semi Eita, Bokuto Koutarou, Kuroo Tetsurou, Oikawa Toru, Kenma Kozume

Warnings: some timeskip spoilers, fluff, parenting, angst (kinda) swearing (maybe), crack, all characters are aged up

Word count: 1.8k

Part Two!

Semi Eita

- the serious sometimes scary looking dad, but other than that he’s a fluff ball

- he may look scary but he simply cannot punish them for anything

- especially after they bonded over music, legit cannot do nothing wrong

- on the days he’s not working or with his bandmates, you can often find him with his twin daughters, teaching them how to use different musical instruments

- okay, so your daughters are still pretty young, so they aren’t very good at using most instruments, but for Christmas you and Semi got them both a small set of drums, something easy

- it was very cute to come home from work to see your husband and daughters loudly practicing on the drums

- sure at first it gave you a blasting headache, but after a while you got used to it, and even jammed out with them when you had the time

- mainly just random sounds/beats coming from the two five year olds, but Semi doesn’t mind, he’s willing to teach them and he does proudly

- if one of his daughters or both wants too

- definitely writes songs for his daughters and you

- i can see him writing lullaby’s for them and working on them for hours making sure they were perfect

- lets just say they were perfectly beautiful

- because you went to high school together, the nickname “semi semi” stuck with you (thanks chicken tendo)

- but your girls will also cutely call him “semi semi”

- you often bring them to concerts despite semi saying it’s probably too loud for them

- he’ll let you sit safely with them back stage uwu

- after he runs back to you three and is bombarded with hugs, high-fives and kithes

- YOU’RE ALL SO PROUD OF HIM

Bokuto Koutarou

- bokuto is a hyper dad, which we all saw coming. there is no taking the child out of bo

- i feel like he’d want tons of kids, probably even uses his children as an excuse to act the way he does

- i can see him with a few kids, 3 to be exact (2 boys and 1 girl)

- he likes to be really involved with his children, and gets very sad/emo when he doesn’t see them for short/long periods of time

- for example, the Black Jackals is a whole different game field than high school volleyball and it’s much more time consuming and has him away a lot

- when he does come home and has time off, let’s just say he clings to his children like a puppy

- even after a while THEY get sick of him and wanna ditch him, cue emo bo :(

- if his children gang up on him (which they do) cue emo Bo again :(

- he babies them all, can’t ever say no

- tends to go back on his word lmao

- if your oldest son begs and begs for season tickets to his favorite sports team? Bo KNOWS they can be expensive, and he was even scolded by you, but two hours after saying no, he runs back to his son and gives him the money

- if your daughter wants to get her nails done with a group of friends, he knows she picks out the most expensive polishes, etc, BUT HE DOES NOT CARE, he will gladly give her the money and even go with her to get his nails done

- yes, you heard me

- of course he’ll being chaperone for this girls day, he promises to pretend that he doesn’t know them and keep his distance (sit very far away lol), but after a little while its just hard to contain and he’s screaming to everyone in the salon that his daughter is sitting on the other side of the room eye-

- your youngest son wants an expensive sports car? done

- he just wants to make his family happy, pleaseee

Kuroo Tetsurou

- poor Kuroo, he has 2 daughters and you, so he’s surrounded by girls lol

- he actually doesn’t mind it tbh

- between you and his two daughters, he wouldn’t have it any other way

- just gives him an excuse to be overly protective

- anywhere in public, expect either kuroo holding your hand

- or holding his daughters close to him (piggy back rides, yes)

- or, he stands protectively behind you and your daughters while you talk to someone, sending them threatening glares behind your backs

- he was shy as a child, so it wasn’t surprising when one of his daughters, the youngest, was very very shy

- he doesn’t mind once again, just gives him an excuse to be protective

- although he’s busy, he always makes time for his girls ALWAYS

- definitely a bragger

- if his family is brought into a convo, he pridefully will express how cute and smart his daughters are, may or may not openly declare his daughters are the cutest amongst his co-workers children

- he’s mad intuitive and aware/observant

- kuroo always knows when one or both of his daughters are about to start crying/throw a fit

- cue dad kuroo prepared to crack funny chemistry and or science jokes

- his shy daughter finds him very funny, doubles over every time he cracks a joke and calls him a “silly rooster”

- even when she's older she still laughs and even copies his jokes

- but his other daughter just cringes, every time sigh

- when she was younger she used to fake the laughs, but when he started saying the jokes in public she just stopped reacting, hoping he would stop-

- he didn’t...

- i like to imagine kuroo and kenma staying friends even after high school, and since kenma has hella video games and a whole arcade in his house, he’ll often bring his daughters over to his house

- his eldest daughter loves it at uncle kenma’s house

- cue jealous rooster dad

Oikawa Toru

- okay so oikawa is ALWAYS busy

- isn’t home much, except during off seasons or if he messes up his knee again (yes, it’ll happen)

- in the event that he’s home due to a knee injury, he’ll wanna be catered too lmaooo

- he doesn’t expect his little girl to cater to him and really only teases you about it

- but his daughter will get him whatever he needs while he’s propped up on the couch

- she admires him so much

- his daughter kinda has a smart mouth-

- definitely got that from him, having picked up on it from a young age, while he was home

- when he was home once propped up with a messed up knee, she went “here dadkawa” as she handed him an ice pack

- he laughs at the nickname, asking you about where it came from later

“she was on call with hajime’s daughter yesterday... hajime asked how ‘poopykawa’ was doing”

- he just rolls his eyes, “at least he cleaned it up for her sake” you explained

- will not lose the “kawa” part, so it’s dadkawa lol

- when he’s away, she’s always asking for dadkawa

- when he’s here they're inseparable

- morning breakfast now will be her sitting in his lap instead of yours

- she asks to watch cartoons with him instead of you :(

- bath time consists of her arguing with you as you try to wash her hair, while oikawa sits on the closed toilet seat laughing to himself

- “mommy i want dadkawa to wash my hair!”

- “you always whine that he gets soap in your eyes”

- “I don’t care!”

- when you bring your daughter to games, she’ll be cheering him on proudly, “mommy, look at dadkawa!” “GO DADKAWA!!!!”

- since he plays for the professional Argentine team, i figure you all live in Argentina now, traveling from Argentina and Japan was tiring, so you moved to be closer

- when the news approaches him after or before games, he makes sure to show his daughter off and the whole time it’s his daughter stealing the show

- she might be shy at first, but as long as dadkawa is holding her, she’s fine

- he’ll teach her Spanish, defiantly sings happy birthday to her in Spanish because it’s special

- he calls her his princesa (princess in spanish)

Kenma Kozume

- if his child didn’t enjoy video games like him or any of his hobbies like volleyball, I feel like Kenma would have a hard time with them

- he loves his son yes, but he’d have a hard time interacting with him, especially if he’s not into video games or volleyball

- if he is though, you can often find the two in kenma’s home office, playing games

- when your son was a infant, you would always come home from being out/work to find your son sitting in his pj’s on kenma’s lap watching his dad play video games

- “it’s late, ken. i see he’s already in his pj’s- did you already have dinner?” “yes”

- “without me?” you asked, lifting up your son to give his cheeks kisses. “there’s apple pie in the fridge.”

- eye-

- yes he fed your son that, yes he needs a little guidance, yes he needs to be told apple pie is NOT dinner

- on another occasion of coming home, you found your boys in the same spot, once again playing video games, your sons eyes drifting between the game and his father every time he muttered under his breath

- “the screen is bad for your eyes kenma, and he’s just a baby! he’ll get bad eyes too!”

- kenma’s short answer is, “he won’t”

- when your son got older, and he started getting into video games, it got harder for you to tear his eyes away from the screen

- he’s been around video games his whole life, so of course it’d be hard, you just didn’t think he’d grow attached

- kenma leaves most of the strict parenting to you, because he LEGIT doesn’t NOT know what to say

- he’s lowkey afraid he’ll push his son away if he says the wrong thing, but he’s also worried that if he doesn't say anything, they’ll have no real relationship, so he struggles

- he tries his hardest to bond with him over video games and volleyball though

- as said by your son, kenma’s cooking can’t compare to yours, BUT he does know how to make a yummy apple pie

- his son will help kenma with said apple pie, when he’s younger he was often the taste tester and made a mess every time

- kenma gets nervous in huge crowds and really around anyone he doesn’t know, so if his son is a social butterfly he’ll try to get kenma used to people other than himself and you

- somehow, during the rare moments his son has problems (friends, school etc), kenma will be the one to speak up privately

- he’ll definitely tell his son to surround himself with a good friend/good friends, he also makes sure to let him know the importance of quality over quantity

- he has a brotherly relationship with kuroo, and if not for kuroo he’d be alone, he wants the same thing for his son

10.20.20, rayofsunas

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#semi eita #semi eita x reader #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #oikawa toru #oikawa toru x reader #kenma kozume #kenma kozume x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto koutaro #bokuto koutarou x reader #rayofsunas

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vcg73 · 3 years

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FIC: Kurt Birthday Drabbles

Earlier this week @elledelajoie left a comment on something I wrote all the way back in 2014. I had genuinely forgotten I ever started it, but the original idea was to write 21 Kurt Hummel birthday drabbles. I had written just 7 of them, but after we chatted about it, I decided to go ahead and finish.

If you’re not familiar, a drabble is a scene of exactly 100 words, not counting title headers. Since Chris Colfer and Kurt Hummel’s co-birthday (May 27) is coming up this Thursday, here they are. This goes definite AU at Birthday #19. Because you know I would never sentence my beloved Kurt to a life of being a doormat to people who did not appreciate and value him.

Never underestimate the power of feedback!

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Birthday #1

Kurt’s blue eyes went wide as a frosted cupcake was set upon his high-chair tray, a single candle ablaze on its surface.

When Mommy, Daddy, Uncle Andy, Grandpa Curtis and Grandma Eileen started singing to him, he smiled and clapped both hands hard around the tempting pile of frosting.

Kurt laughed when the sugary topping went flying and a big splatter of white abruptly decorated Daddy’s surprised face.

Everyone else started laughed too, including the startled father, who retaliated by giving his birthday boy a sticky peck on the cheek and then helped him to blow out a new candle.

Birthday #2

Kurt looked between his presents, confused.

Mommy had given him the pretty dolly he had begged for at the store. Daddy had given him a truck, not big enough to ride but too big to live with the little cars Daddy gave him at Christmas.

His parents seemed to be mad at each other.

Kurt looked at the doll, then at the truck. He smiled and placed Dolly inside the truck and began to drive her around the carpet.

Mommy and Daddy seemed surprised by his actions, but then they laughed, and Kurt knew he had figured out the puzzle.

Birthday #3

His shoes were black and shiny, buckles on the sides and 1-inch heels on the base. He clomped over the hardwood floors, listening to the click-tap-click-tap in delight. They went perfectly with his dove gray coveralls with “Kurt” sewn on the pocket in black sequins. Mommy had made the outfit for him.

Spotting Daddy watching him, Kurt threw himself into waiting arms. Daddy’s smile looked like he had an owie but was trying to be a big boy and not cry.

Kurt hugged him. “It’s okay, Daddy.”

Burt looked surprised but hugged him back. “Yeah, buddy. I think it is.”

Birthday #4

Ballet girls were nice. When they heard it was his birthday today, they threw him a party. Kurt puffed up with pleasure when presented with cookies, a sparkly wand and a tiara that read ‘Happy Birthday’ in shiny letters. He was not as fond of the kisses they gave, but four was very grown up, so he screwed up his face and allowed it. The teacher even let him wear the special puffy pink tutu over his little black leotard!

He saw Mommy and Daddy up in the gallery taking pictures, so he waved.

Kurt hoped today would last forever.

Birthday #5

“Can I have cupcakes?”

Kurt’s mother looked up from her book. “I don’t think we have any, sweetheart.”

“Can we have some Thursday? My birthday is the last day of preschool.”

“It is?” she said, looking surprised. “Is it your birthday already?”

He nodded seriously. “Don’t you remember, Mommy? You were there.”

She laughed. “Well, you have me there. What kind of cupcakes would you like, sweetie? And don’t say cheesecake. Those are two completely different kinds of dessert.”

Kurt’s hopeful expression fell. “Oh,” he said, clearly disappointed. Then his face brightened again. “Chocolate?”

She nodded. “That we can do.”

Birthday #6

“Daddy!”

Burt sat up just in time to catch the little body that launched at him. “What’s wrong, slugger?”

“It’s my birthday!”

Grinning despite the way his heart was hammering at the abrupt awakening, Burt asked, “Yeah? I like birthdays. Do I get a present?”

“No,” the boy scoffed. “I get presents!”

Burt squinted at the clock. 3:15am. “Not until morning, you don’t.”

Kurt pouted and tried, “It’s almost morning.”

“Not close enough, kid. C’mere,” Burt pulled him into the warm bed between himself and his wife.

Kurt snuggled down and went right back to sleep.

Burt was less lucky.

Birthday #7

Kids had started treating him funny this year. He was too fancy, too girly, holding hands was weird.

Nobody was coming.

“I’m sorry, sweetie.”

“Am I too late?”

They jumped as a little black girl with pom-pom hair popped out of nowhere.

“I’m Mercedes,” she greeted. “We just moved here. Mom said you would have invited me if you’d known.”

“I’m Kurt.” He smiled. “Do you like tea parties?”

“Is there cake?”

Mrs. Hummel beamed. “Cake, ice cream, and Kool-Aid.”

Kurt shrugged. “Nobody else came.”

She grabbed his hand like she’d known him forever. “More for us! Happy Birthday, Kurt.”

Birthday #8

Kurt took a deep breath, thought for a moment, and carefully blew out the candles. All but the extra one that his parents always put on his cake.

“Aren’t you gonna finish, bud?”

He looked from Daddy over to his mother, home again, but so frail he was sometimes afraid to hug her, worried she might pop like a fragile soap bubble. He offered her the candle. “Here, Mommy. Blow it out. Maybe you’ll get another year to grow on.”

The eyes of the two adults met, then Mommy nodded. The three of them blew out the final candle together.

Birthday #9

Barely daring to hope, Kurt came down the stairs. Birthday cakes and presents had been Mommy’s specialty. Daddy had forgotten his own birthday and had nearly forgotten Christmas.

Kurt gasped when he saw it, waiting, shining and spectacular against the front door.

“A bike!”

Bright green, sissy bars with foil streamers, and a banana seat. Perfect!

Burt smiled. He had scoffed a such a “girly” bike when Kurt spotted it at the toy store. But now, looking at the all-too-rare joy in his son’s eyes and feeling the approving smile his wife would have given, he nodded. It was perfect.

Birthday #10

Buying gifts was tough when your kid always clammed up on you. A dad had to be observant.

Ten years old. A landmark like that needed something special, but the only thing Kurt seemed into was clothes. He had enough of those for ten kids.

He’d probably like a Barbie he could change in and out of different outfits, but Burt cringed at the thought.

He did doodle pretty good though. Sure, it was mostly pictures of clothes, but that was a start.

A fancy sketchpad with a case and a hundred different colored pencils. Yeah, that was the ticket.

Birthday #11

“Dad, where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Kurt sighed with exaggerated impatience. He had come home from school to find Dad waiting at the truck, ordering him to get in, then not saying another word. The suspense was killing him.

“Ta-Dahhhh!”

They had pulled up in front of a nondescript brick building. “Columbus Culinary Arts?”

“You like to cook right? Well, we’re gonna fix your birthday dinner this year with the help of a real chef. Lessons are once a week for the next couple months.”

Gourmet cooking lessons!

“Oh wow. Dad, this is amazing!”

Burt grinned. “Happy Birthday, kid.”

Birthday #12

Last year’s surprise had gone so well that Burt had decided on a repeat. But when he saw the excitement on Kurt’s face at finding a pair of tickets inside his birthday card turn to disappointment and horror, quickly masked with a fake smile, he knew he’d goofed.

“I know baseball isn’t your thing,” he said, almost pleading. “But you’ve never seen a live game before. It’s a whole different experience. It’s a home game. We can yell and scream, and cheer our team on with thousands of other fans.”

The stiff not-smile never wavered. “Sounds . . . fun.”

Birthday #13

Dad had bought out one of the partners at the garage this spring and now owned a majority share of the renamed “Hummel Tires & Lube”. Kurt wanted to snicker at that name, but he was proud too.

His birthday this year coincided with Friday Night Dinner. Dad had invited all the mechanics over for a potluck. They’d had Mary’s special fried chicken, Cassius’s homemade cornbread, and Davy’s mac’n’cheese. Now Dad brought out the cake.

Kurt laughed. A sheet-cake with a tow-truck and two little plastic mechanics for decoration.

“You and me kid. Partners.”

The mechanics cheered and everybody dug in.

Birthday #14

Kurt froze when he saw tickets peeping out of his card. Not again. Noise, sunburn, unhealthy food, tacky uniforms, and Dad trying so hard to make a boring sport seem like fun.

He sighed and pasted on a smile, which quickly transformed into shock.

“Wicked?” he squeaked, staring hard at the little papers as if the printing might change if he dared to look away.

“Embassy Theater is giving regional business owners a discount this year,” Burt said apologetically. “It’s just a traveling production, not real Broadway, but I …”

His apology was cut off by a joyful teenaged hug.

Birthday #15

“Don’t worry, son, you got this. Just remember everything I taught you. You got a whole year to get ready for the practical test.”

“I know.”

“And it’s okay if you don’t get it right the first time. Not everybody does.”

“I’m fine, Dad.”

“I’ll be right here waiting for you when you’re through.”

“I know that, Dad. I’ll be okay, really.”

At that moment, Kurt’s name was called and he sprang from his hard green plastic chair. His dad’s repeated reassurances were making him jumpy.

Twenty minutes later, a brightly grinning Kurt was waving his freshly minted driver’s permit.

Birthday #16

Burt patted the giant blue bow the dealership had provided over the hood of the shining black Lincoln Navigator.

Kurt was gonna flip! He’d passed his DMV test with flying colors and was no doubt showing off his shiny new license to all his friends at school.

He paused. Did Kurt have any friends to share this accomplishment with? He always seemed so alone.

Maybe that’s why he had decided to spoil his son with a huge birthday gift.

It wasn’t right for such a good kid to be all alone. Maybe having his own ride would help change that.

Birthday #17

A dozen teens gathered in Kurt’s basement to celebrate the end-of-school, non-disbanding of Glee, and Kurt’s birthday, all in one.

“Not like ten years ago,” Mercedes said to Kurt, as they watched Mike and Brittany dance.

“Ten years?”

“Your seventh? It was just you, me, your mom, and lots of chocolate cake.”

Kurt was astounded. “That was you?”

“You forgot?”

“I remember a little girl who showed up and invited herself to my party.”

“And I remember a little boy who needed a friend as much as I did.”

He squeezed her hand. “Thanks for coming.”

She squeezed back. “Always.”

Birthday #18

Kurt stared at his birthday cake, unable to think of anything to wish for.

He was 18-years-old today, a legal adult. He had new family in Carole and Finn, his dad was on the mend, he would be back at McKinley for senior year, he had made his first visit to New York City, and he had a boyfriend! One who had just told Kurt that he loved him for the very first time.

‘I wish for next year to be as good as this,” he thought, taking a deep breath and blowing.

The flames flickered out, all except one.

Birthday #19

Senior year had been a disaster, and now he had not gotten into NYADA, despite his well-praised audition.

“Blaine wants me to spend another year here,” he whispered. “I just can’t.”

Burt’s callused hand squeezed his neck. “Then don’t. You’re 19 now, a man. You got talents galore, work experience from the garage, enough drive for ten kids, and your mom’s life insurance money to give you a start.”

“But…”

“No buts,” Burt said firmly. “You go on to New York and grab life by the balls.”

Kurt felt his optimism rise. “Help me look for apartments?”

“You got it.”

Birthday #20

What a difference a year made.

He’d dumped Blaine after being cheated on less than a month after leaving Lima. He was enrolled at FIT and sharing a shoebox apartment with a fellow design student and a Broadway hopeful, but both were young gay men from small towns, and they had a lot in common.

“Happy Birthday!” Elliott shouted, tossing a handful of glittery sequins at him.

Adam came in playing the birthday song on a kazoo he had gotten from who-knows-where. “Ready for Callbacks? $20 on who gets the first hot guy’s number!”

“I already have yours. I win!”

Birthday #21

“I have the honor of presenting your first official grown-up drink,” Adam said, smiling lovingly at his grinning boyfriend of nearly a year. He set down a martini glass with a cherry floating on top. “A Manhattan seemed appropriate.”

Kurt beamed and gave him a kiss, then took an experimental sip. “I’ve had alcohol before,” he admitted. “Mostly wine, though. Mm, this is good!”

“I thought you’d like it. Happy Birthday, my love. May the future bring every good thing you wish for, and never more heartache than you can handle.”

Kurt could not have asked for a better sentiment.

THE END

#birthday drabbles #Kurt and Burt #Kurt and Mercedes #Kurt and Adam

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lunawings · 3 years

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Joji’s Birthday PriZoom (9/15/21)

Translation of the bonus content is in a seperate post again.

So yeah I never actually fell asleep after the showing haha. Was just lying in bed playing Love Live when I thought well... I got a good 4-5 hours of sleep in before the showing (better than literally nothing like last time)... If I’m gonna be awake I might as well start this while my emotions are raw so I rolled out of bed and wrote most of the below rambly mess.

And then I went to work. Which was kind of surreal. Because for a few hours my brain really was back in Japan again. There was something just a little magic about this showing I think. A lot of things came together (starting with how talkative people actually were during Pride the Hero! Ahh!) etc.

B... ut.....

I guess I’ll get this out of the way first. I was super heartbroken at the low turnout for this one. Only 65-85 people in the cheering room... But it was a weekday, sooo... I’m just going to hope that a lot of people bought the archive tickets to check it out later.... Yes... I have decided that is the case.............

The people who did, however, missed out on the cheering room and thus missed out the latest incident to enter my personal list of all-time favorite moments in this fandom. After Joji’s episode in SSS Part 2 we had some “technical difficulties”... (I put that in quotes because I somewhat doubt it was technical difficulties. I mean, the stream cut out cleanly RIGHT at the end of Joji’s episode. So I wonder if maybe someone just forgot about Minato’s episode and shut it off early hahaha...) and while we were waiting for them to restart the movie there was a long period of silence and a black screen. But us in the cheering room could all still hear each other. .....And someone started singing Brilliant Oath.

It was PERFECT. These are the moments I live for! This is why I’ve been to like over 100 cheering shows and I still KEEP GOING! I love this fandom! It may not have made the archive since the cheering wasn’t recorded for that but it will live on in our hearts.

Anyway...

I guess one bonus to having less people this time was that I actually managed to keep on the soundboard hell... the ENTIRE... TIME!! Although at a low volume. And honestly... I more or less completely stopped hearing it at one point I think haha. So... that kinda defeats the purpose I suppose. Actually no, even if it was just static background noise it was still nice to have on in SSS, which would have been pretty quiet without it. And it was worth it just for the one person who was like SHISHOOOO during one scene in Pride the Hero when Jin was going crazy hahaha (AH! When was it? I don’t remember now...). I also tuned in for a bit in episode 6 and loved when Minato’s sister says her age incorrectly everyone was like EIIIGHT (...that’s not correct either hahah....)

Since I knew this was going to be archived I tried bring my cheering A game to Pride the Hero with moderate success. Kinda mad at myself for missing stupid small things probably no one would care/look for I mean my camera is shit anyway (BUT I--). I’m just lucky it wasn’t way worse because Pride the Hero I can mostly run on autopilot. Out of all King of Prism media, it’s probably the one I’ve cheered the most (I mean it was all we had in theaters for literally like two years), and it was fresh in my mind from Minato’s showing too. So even with how exhausted I was, I made it through! (Then proceeded to take micro power naps on the floor during episodes 4 and 6.......) I also kinda wish I’d changed my background earlier. The show started before I got around to changing it and I was like I’ll change it during a break (........Pride the Hero has no breaks........) haha but yeah. I had Okayama station up from the Prism King Cup onward and the Momotaro mailbox up during SSS. The real background MVP though is the person who appeared to have up the bench in rural Okayama where Joji made his promise to Miyo!? I mean it looked kinda different because it wasn’t on a bridge but that HAD to be it, right!? (!!!??)

Also cosplay at this showing was amazing! We had like 3-4 Miyos, 2 Aces, KOKORO!? (and Taiga. Because who are we kidding there’s always a Taiga)

Also shoutout to the girl who cosplayed as... the PIECE OF CLOTH Joji sewed for Miyo!? (I think she was at both showings but I didn’t fully realize what she was supposed to be until the Playback Allstars at the very end hahah...)

And shoutout to the Ace cosplayer “singing” during all of Joji’s performances haha!!

And the person spinning in an office chair whenever any character was twirling around...

But BIGGEST shoutout to our own @takadanobaba who was somehow THE ONLY Joji cosplayer in the cheering room!? (The only overall for the first show, but another joined in the text-only room for the second show.)

I was SO HAPPY when Tatsuyuki Kobayashi noticed you!! RIGHT!?!? He was like “Oh and there’s someone dressed as Joji!” and you were the only one!!! He didn’t even say anything about the people dressed as Ace!!?! Haha! I wasn’t trying to do anything to get his attention (I wouldn’t know what to do anyway, and besides he’s not the kind of person who works the crowd like Masashi Igarashi does so I wasn’t expecting much) so having him notice you was a huge surprise and honestly just about as good!! AHHH!!!

But the concept of this showing was a little awkward ‘cause it’s like, as a fan, do you appeal for Joji or Ace? Tatsuyuki Kobayashi was maybe a little conflicted about how to act too. First he said he was coming as himself, but then he backpedaled and slipped into Ace being tsun when pulling the birthday crackers for Joji heheh.

But yeah, we’ve got to give him a break, he’s just so happy to have his own character finally. I’m happy about how happy he is to be Ace! But like honestly... Not like I’m necessarily complaining but... This showing ended up being almost exactly the same as the Ace one pfffthahah!!! I mean he mostly just talked about being Ace and went over a lot of the same things. Like being the surprise guest at the MRS concert, etc. I think he may have said this before too, but when he originally recorded Love Mix, Ace didn’t exist yet so he didn’t really know who he was supposed to be singing as and just tried to sound like a sparkly idol. And I’ve always felt that! Like I think his voice changed or evolved between Love Mix and Joker Kiss into being less generic idol/Joji and a lot more Ace.

OH!! I don’t think he said this at the other one (but for some reason it sounds vaguely familiar?). He was talking about how he knew of King of Prism and actually went to shows before he was cast in Pride the Hero. And after he was going to a Pride the Hero show and Sugita (Joji’s actual voice actor) was on the escalator behind him. HAHAH.

I LOVE stories like this because... okay like, when you go to a theatrical cheering show there is always this introduction video where they talk about cheering manners. And they warn you not to say anything mean because “you never know, a star might be sitting next to you.” And to know THAT’S ACTUALLY TRUE SOMETIMES.... JFLSJDLJG. I mean, I’ve only seen King of Prism in Tokyo a handful of times so it’s probably never happened to me. Actually I guess... technically... this show and the last one DO count because Masashi Igarashi and Tatsuyuki Kobayashi were watching with us before and/or after their segments and probably listening in!!! (Still, I guess the point is it’s nice to know the voice actors actually do go in their private time, too.)

Oh, one more shoutout I forgot about to the person I think had a big red car with Joji and... a bunch of Jin mochikoros in the back!!? They rolled it by the screen so fast why hahah.

And it was great to see Joji’s 2019 birthday video again and confirm it wasn’t a fever dream. Hopefully I can grab that from @takadanobaba when the archive goes up in a couple days (it will be a quick and easy translation!).

Okay that’s it.....

DO THE PRIZOOMS

Or at least buy the archive tickets and watch later

(but they are expensive and it’s not the same)

#king of prism #joji takadanobaba #ace ikebukuro #tatsuyuki kobayashi

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rmg91 · 3 years

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Meant To Be (In Any Form)-7

Heeeey...So yeah...muses were being finicky as they always are and I just couldn't seem to focus on anything! Those are the main reasons why I just haven't been able to get myself to write. Seriously, I know I can write a oneshot fairly quickly so it shouldn't take almost 3 weeks to do so and yet! Also as always I've been distracted my RP with Autumn and some RL crud so yeah. Anyway, please enjoy some domestic fluff!

Chapter Summary: Poppy comes home to a delightful surprise.

Also found on: AO3/FF.Net

@hayleysstark LOOK! I WROTE SOME DOMESTIC FLUFF!

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The day had started as usual for the trolls of Pop Village, sunshine beaming down through the trees as they went about their daily business of singing, dancing and hugging led by their darling Queen Poppy. Even when it got a little cloudy it didn't deter them in the slightest, their fun continuing up until the sky opened up and rain began to fall. Some families rushed their kids inside, not wanting the trollings to get sick, others stayed and danced in the falling water until it started to really pour. While they all made a mad dash for some cover, Poppy laughed joyously as she ran through the rain, the water soaking her through as she made her way to the large tree her home was built in. Thankfully she knew her scrapbook supplies would be safe, having long since taken the advice of Branch to keep it contained in plastic in case her hair got too wet. Carefully running up the stairs, she didn't want Branch to scold her for not being careful, she made it under their porch awning, dripping wet and giggling breathlessly.

Taking a moment to squeeze some water from her dress and hair, the least she could do so she didn't make a huge puddle inside, the pink troll slipped inside the tree-house her loving husband had made them. Stepping inside, she shivered at the sudden temperature difference, goosebumps raising on her pink skin as she dripped all over the foyer. She wasn't greeted by the usual warm glow of the glowshrooms however, which made her pause and tilt her head, because instead there was a fainter glow flickering beyond the corner. Alongside one of her favorite sounds in the world, Branch's humming. She stood there, curious as the what he was up to but also just wanting to enjoy the soft music he made. Maybe if she stood here long enough he'd start singing~ However that wasn't to be as she shivered again just as he spoke up.

“You can come around the corner, you know. Don't have to hide to listen to me hum.”

Poppy giggled and replied, “I would but I don't want to drip too much on the carpet~!”

She could just feel him pausing before he padded around the corner of the living room to spot her in all her wet, dripping glory. Dress plastered to her and hair dropping over her eyes. She grinned at him as he sighed, exasperated, before shaking his head. Then she noticed he wasn't wearing his usual vest and shorts combo. No, her hunk of a husband was all dressed up; white dress-shirt, the top few buttons undone, and dark blue, almost blank slacks with his indigo hair combed and swept back. Taking a moment to appreciate the look, Gumdrops was he delicious, the queen asked, “What's the occasion? Not meeting anyone behind my back are you~?”

Rolling his blue eyes, Branch approached his soaking wife with a shake of head, “Only the queen herself. Who apparently decided to not even try to avoid the rain.”

“Aww, come on~ You know as well as I do how fun it is to run in the rain!” She grinned as he rolled his eyes once more before saying, “Soooo? You never answered by question. What's the occasion, my man~?”

He gestured with his head, stepping back lightly, “Look for yourself.”

Peeking around the corner, careful not to drip too much on the soft felt and moss carpet, Poppy gasped in delight as she spotted a small round table set up for a romantic dinner for two, candles burning in the center beside a small mound of flowers. “Awww~” She cooed, looking back to Branch with a grin, “And whatever brought this on?”

“What?” He shrugged, “Can't a husband treat his wife to a romantic dinner date at home? To thank her for everything she's ever done and for choosing him to spend the rest of her fun, loud and crazy life with?”

“You've been thinking about things again.” It wasn't a question that needed an answer, she already knew it.

He shrugged a little bashfully, “Maybe just a little.” It wasn't like he ever hid the fact that he would always be grateful that she had taken a chance on him, helped to turn his gray and lonely life around to something he could now say he loved just as much as he loved her. Crazy, glitter filled parties and all.

Smiling softly at him, the pink troll bounced over, cooing, “You are adorable~” She quickly kissed his cheek before stating, “And I'd choose you every time~ Be right back~!” And then she was quickly racing up the stairs to change out of her wet clothes.

~*~*~*~

Bouncing back downstairs, her hair only slightly frizzy from her rush towel drying, Poppy found Branch pouring them a glass of stoutberry wine, a delicious smell wafting through the covered dishes now on the table. She grinned at him once he noticed her and sashayed over when he held his arms out for her.

“Smells great~ What'cha make?” She asked, happily returning his hug.

He chuckled, warm and fond, as he brush some of her hair back behind an ear, “You'll see~” He then, like the gentletroll he was, pulled her chair out for her.

Once they were both settled, the survivalist gestured for her to take the covering off her plate and as she did so, she got the best whiff of their meal. Looking down, she grinned and bounced a little in her seat, seeing her favorite dish ever! Rice and mixed vegetables, extra mushrooms! And there was even a little bowl of spicy pepper flakes if she so desired to add some heat to it! She squealed happily, thanking Branch profusely, and then gave a little happy dance as he revealed he also whipped up some twisty garlic and cheese bread-sticks!

“Ooh-hohoho!! You love me~!” She sang, digging right into her food.

“That's not exactly a secret anymore.” He chuckled, taking his own calmer bite of food.

Soon enough, Poppy calmed down and they enjoyed the quiet ambiance of falling rain and the soft crackle of the fireplace. They shared their days from when they had separated after the morning song, Branch telling her he had finally worked out what had happened to the waterslide. The pipes had somehow been clogged by some of Sky's prototype water beads. They were suppose to be soft enough to squeeze through most things, being mostly made of water, but the formula wasn't right yet and so they had grown too large inside the pipe. Sky's assistant had admitted to accidentally spilling some in the pool, hoping to come and fish them out once they had grown large enough to see but not knowing some had been swept up into the pipe. Thankfully it had been an easy enough fix and with a new even tighter mesh insert hopefully nothing would get through again. Branch admitted that had the weather not changed so quickly, the slide would have been fully functional that day but instead trolls would have to wait a little longer.

Poppy had filled him in on all the fun he had missed during an impromptu dance party and the then resulting game of hide and seek. Before all that she had gone to three different birthday parties and a muffin tasting at the muffin stand. After being found, she had stopped by Ginger's baby shower before hanging around the market with some of the Snack Pack, trading ideas for the upcoming Prank Day. There had been a brief search for Mr. Dinkles but thankfully the glowworm hadn't been missing for long. And then a flash mob had taken over the market place! It was just after everyone was taking a breather from that bit of fun that the storm had hit and Poppy had made her mad dash home.

After that their conversation moved to other things, mostly ranging from any day to day activities to any upcoming holiday's and events, Poppy focusing on the fun and Branch on making sure everything she wanted to do would be safe. But that was what made them work so well together, in official royal business and personal life, they'd do their respective specialties and meet in the middle. Of course they still had moments where they were unwilling to compromise but in the end they always worked it out and everyone winded up having more fun for it.

Dinner ended soon enough without fan fair, Poppy leaning back in her chair with a sigh of satisfaction as she patted her stomach, “That was delicious~ As always~”

Branch snickered lightly but smirked at her, “You always say that.” He leaned his head on his hand, watching Poppy through hooded eyes past the candlelight, smirk turning into something soft as he gazed at her. “Sorry there's no dessert. There wasn't any time to go pick something up. Your stuff's better anyway.”

Poppy grinned at him, “Flattery will get you everywhere and that's okay,” She shrugged one shoulder before giving him a sassy smirk, “You're all the dessert I need~”

“Pffft!” Branch snickered, getting up and coming around the back of her chair to nuzzle under her ear as he replied to her flirt, “You're impossible~”

“You love me~!”

“Mmm, I do...I really, really do~” He kissed her cheek softly before leaning back, “And I do have a little after dinner surprise for you. But you have to keep eyes closed.”

“Awww!” The pink queen whined lightly, “Do I have too?”

“Yes.”

Poppy sighed, more dramatically than upset, “Fiiiiine.” And then did as her husband asked, sitting and waiting for him to tell her to open them. She knew he hadn't gone to far, listening to him shuffle around somewhere in their living room but she couldn't figure out what he could be doing.

Meanwhile, after making sure she wasn't peeking, Branch set up the surprise he knew she'd love, tossing and arranging an array of their softest and fluffiest blankets down the perfect distance away from the fire. They'd be warm, but not too much, and comfortable without having to worry about anything catching on fire. After arranging the pillows just right, he went over and gently pulled Poppy out of her chair, telling her to open her eyes. “I figured you wouldn't mind a cuddle session since it's rainy.” He smirked, gesturing to the pile.

“You bet I don't!” Poppy cried happily before pulling Branch over with her usual exuberance, pushing him gentle down upon the pillows before joining him. Cuddling up close, she listened as he chuckled at her antics, smiling at the fond sound. But as she laid her head on his chest, she realized something was missing. Sitting up with a slight frown, she ignored Branch questioning look as she quickly undid the top few buttons of his shirt. Nodding with delight, she laid back down, hand slipping under the now semi-opened shirt to feel his skin. She hummed happily as she held it above his heart, feeling the comforting pulse of it beating and sighed, “Much better~”

Branch merely chuckled some more at his wife's antics, laying his hand over hers to hold it as he used his other arm to hold her close. Reaching with his hair, he draped one last blanket over them as they relaxed, unconsciously beginning to hum as he held her hand above his heart. It wasn't long there after that between the full bellies, crackling fire and the heavy rainfall crashing outside found the royal couple drifting off to sleep, wrapped up in their embrace.

~*~*~*~*~*~

And there you have it! Some, hopefully, tooth rotting fluff! And yes, Poppy enjoys feeling her man up whenever she can XD Anyway, hope you enjoyed and maybe one day I'll be able to focus again on something for more than 3 seconds Lol! I have things I want to write I tell ya!

#Dreamworks Trolls #Branch #Poppy #Broppy #Trolls #dreamworkstrolls #Fanfiction #Fluff

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1962dude420-blog · 3 years

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Today we remember the passing of Joey Ramone who Died: April 15, 2001 in Manhattan, New York

Jeffrey Ross Hyman, known professionally as Joey Ramone, was an American musician, singer, composer, and lead vocalist of the punk rock band the Ramones. Joey Ramone's image, voice, and tenure as frontman of the Ramones made him a countercultural icon.

Jeffrey Ross Hyman was born on May 19, 1951, in Queens, New York City, New York to a Jewish family. His parents were Charlotte (née Mandell) and Noel Hyman. He was born with a parasitic twin growing out of his back, which was incompletely formed and surgically removed. The family resided in Forest Hills, Queens, where Hyman and his future Ramones bandmates attended Forest Hills High School. He grew up with his brother Mickey Leigh. Though happy, Hyman was something of an outcast, diagnosed at 18 with obsessive–compulsive disorder alongside being diagnosed with schizophrenia. His mother, Charlotte Lesher, divorced her first husband, Noel Hyman. She married a second time but was widowed by a car accident while she was on vacation.

Hyman was a fan of the Beatles, the Who, David Bowie, and the Stooges among other bands, particularly oldies and the Phil Spector-produced "girl groups". His idol was Pete Townshend of the Who, with whom he shared a birthday. Hyman took up the drums at 13, and played them throughout his teen years before picking up an acoustic guitar at age 17.

In 1974, Jeffrey Hyman co-founded the punk rock band the Ramones with friends John Cummings and Douglas Colvin. Colvin was already using the pseudonym "Dee Dee Ramone" and the others also adopted stage names using "Ramone" as their surname: Cummings became Johnny Ramone and Hyman became Joey Ramone. The name "Ramone" stems from Paul McCartney: he briefly used the stage name "Paul Ramon" during 1960/1961, when the Beatles, still an unknown five-piece band called the Silver Beetles, did a tour of Scotland and all took up pseudonyms; and again on the 1969 Steve Miller album Brave New World, where he played the drums on one song using that name.

Joey initially served as the group's drummer while Dee Dee Ramone was the original vocalist. However, when Dee Dee's vocal cords proved unable to sustain the demands of consistent live performances, Ramones manager Thomas Erdelyi suggested Joey switch to vocals. Mickey Leigh: "I was shocked when the band came out. Joey was the lead singer and I couldn't believe how good he was. Because he'd been sitting in my house with my acoustic guitar, writing these songs like 'I Don't Care', fucking up my guitar, and suddenly he's this guy on stage who you can't take your eyes off of." After a series of unsuccessful auditions in search of a new drummer, Erdelyi took over on drums, assuming the name Tommy Ramone.

The Ramones were a major influence on the punk rock movement in the United States, though they achieved only minor commercial success. Their only record with enough U.S. sales to be certified gold in Joey's lifetime was the compilation album Ramones Mania. Recognition of the band's importance built over the years, and they are now regularly represented in many assessments of all-time great rock music, such as the Rolling Stone lists of the 50 Greatest Artists of All Time and 25 Greatest Live Albums of All Time, VH1's 100 Greatest Artists of Hard Rock, and Mojo's 100 Greatest Albums. In 2002, the Ramones were voted the second greatest rock and roll band ever in Spin, behind the Beatles.

In 1996, after a tour with the Lollapalooza music festival, the band played their final show and then disbanded.

Ramone's signature cracks, hiccups, snarls, crooning, and youthful voice made him one of punk rock's most recognizable voices. Allmusic.com wrote that "Joey Ramone's signature bleat was the voice of punk rock in America." As his vocals matured and deepened through his career, so did the Ramones' songwriting, leaving a notable difference from his initial melodic and callow style—two notable tracks serving as examples are "Somebody Put Something in My Drink" and "Mama's Boy". Dee Dee Ramone was quoted as saying "All the other singers in New York were copying David Johansen (New York Dolls), who was copying Mick Jagger... But Joey was unique, totally unique."

In 1985, Ramone joined Steven Van Zandt's music industry activist group Artists United Against Apartheid, which campaigned against the Sun City resort in South Africa. Ramone and 49 other recording artists – including Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, Keith Richards, Lou Reed and Run DMC — collaborated on the song "Sun City", in which they pledged they would never perform at the resort.

In 1994, Ramone appeared on the Helen Love album Love and Glitter, Hot Days and Music, singing the track "Punk Boy". Helen Love returned the favor, singing on Ramone's song "Mr. Punchy".

In October 1996, Ramone headlined the "Rock the Reservation" alternative rock festival in Tuba City, Arizona. 'Joey Ramone & the Resistance' debuted Ramone's interpretation of Louis Armstrong's "Wonderful World' live, as well as Ramone's choice of Ramones classics and some of his other favorite songs; The Dave Clark Five's "Any Way You Want It", The Who's "The Kids are Alright" and The Stooges' "No Fun."

Ramone co-wrote and recorded the song "Meatball Sandwich" with Youth Gone Mad. For a short time before his death, he took the role of manager and producer for the punk rock band the Independents.

His last recording as a vocalist was backup vocals on the CD One Nation Under by the Dine Navajo rock group Blackfire. He appeared on two tracks, "What Do You See" and "Lying to Myself". The 2002 CD won "Best Pop/Rock Album of the Year" at the 2002 Native American Music Awards.

Ramone produced the Ronnie Spector album She Talks to Rainbows in 1999. It was critically acclaimed but was not very commercially successful. The title track was previously on the Ramones' final studio album, ¡Adios Amigos!.

Joey Ramone died at the age of 49 following a seven-year battle with lymphoma at New York-Presbyterian Hospital on April 15, 2001, a month before he would have turned 50. He was reportedly listening to the song "In a Little While" by U2 when he died. In an interview in 2014 for Radio 538, U2 lead singer Bono confirmed that Joey Ramone's family told him that Ramone listened to the song before he died, which Andy Shernoff (The Dictators) also confirmed.

His solo album Don't Worry About Me was released posthumously in 2002, and features the single "What a Wonderful World", a cover of the Louis Armstrong standard. MTV News claimed: "With his trademark rose-colored shades, black leather jacket, shoulder-length hair, ripped jeans and alternately snarling and crooning vocals, Joey was the iconic godfather of punk."

On November 30, 2003, a block of East 2nd Street in New York City was officially renamed Joey Ramone Place. It is the block where Hyman once lived with bandmate Dee Dee Ramone and is near the former site of the music club CBGB, where the Ramones began their career. Hyman's birthday is celebrated annually by rock 'n' roll nightclubs, hosted in New York City by his brother and, until 2007, his mother, Charlotte. Joey Ramone is interred at Hillside Cemetery in Lyndhurst, New Jersey.

The Ramones were named as inductees to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as part of the class of 2002.

Several songs have been written in tribute to Joey Ramone. Tommy, CJ and Marky Ramone and Daniel Rey came together in 2002 to record Jed Davis' Joey Ramone tribute album, The Bowery Electric. Other tributes include "Hello Joe" by Blondie from the album The Curse of Blondie, "Drunken Angel" by Lucinda Williams, "You Can't Kill Joey Ramone" by Sloppy Seconds, Joey by Raimundos, "I Wanna Be Your Joey Ramone" by Sleater-Kinney, "Red and White Stripes" by Moler and "Joey" by the Corin Tucker Band, "I Heard Ramona Sing" by Frank Black, Amy Rigby's "Dancin' With Joey Ramone" and "The Miracle (of Joey Ramone)" by U2.

In September 2010, the Associated Press reported that "Joey Ramone Place," a sign at the corner of Bowery and East Second Street, was New York City's most stolen sign. Later, the sign was moved to 20 ft (6.1 m) above ground level. Drummer Marky Ramone thought Joey would appreciate that his sign would be the most stolen, adding "Now you have to be an NBA player to see it."

After several years in development, Ramone's second posthumous album was released on May 22, 2012. Titled ...Ya Know?, it was preceded on Record Store Day by a 7" single re-release of "Blitzkrieg Bop"/"Havana Affair"

#april 15 #2001 #r.i.p.#joey ramone #the ramones

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 4 years

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Happy Birthday, popsicle181!

Apologies once again for the delay on your birthday gift, @popsicle181! We hope you had a wonderful birthday back on the 5th, and that you got all you wished for! To bring your party back around, the lovely @mega-aulover has written a story just for you!

For: popsicle181

Prompt: I would love anything with a college theme (maybe a first meeting) if possible.

Authors Note: I would like to apologize for the late submission of your birthday drabble. But I wanted to make sure that you received the best story possible and I hope you don’t mind the little journey we’re taking. There are many bonds, the bonds of friendship, the bond of family, and the bond of love. Some bonds can never be broken. Special thanks to Norbertsmom for her encouragement and beta skills

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Kindergarten:

Katniss held her father’s hand tightly. “Papa, do I have to go?”

“Yes half-pint, you have to go.”

Tears filled her eyes. “But I don’t want to leave you and mama.”

Her father kneeled down in front of her. “Tell you what. It’s not going to be easy for your maw and me to let you go to school for so long, but I can’t be selfish. I can’t keep you home and not let you learn anything. Especially since you want to be a big sister. And one day when you do become a big sister you’re going to want to read to them, and help them with their homework.”

Katniss looked down. She did want to be a big sister. Livi Bard had a baby brother she got to help take care of. Katniss wanted someone to sing to, to play with, and wanted to teach all the things her mama and papa taught her. “I do want to read the baby stories.”

“Plus, if you learn how to write, we can write a song together.”

Her little head popped up, “Really!”

“Yeah.”

Katniss looked at the massive building. “Okay papa, I’ll go to school. I need to learn to write a song.”

With that resolved Katniss marched purposefully into the building and went about her day. She learned how to hold a pencil and was tracing her name when she heard a soft cry in the room. Turning her head she saw a small boy hiding amongst a fortification of blocks. A group of boys were snickering at him. They ran away after the teacher appeared.

Katniss stood up in her chair to peer at him. His round little face was angelic and his blond curls were a riot. His eyes were wide and filled with tears. His pale cheeks were splotchy and he bit his lips to keep from crying in earnest. Katniss felt a deep stirring in her heart for the little boy. Getting down, she walked over to him and sat down. She didn’t like hearing other kids cry. She began to build up the fort around both of them all the while humming. She noted the sweet smell of cinnamon. He reminded her of the snickerdoodle cookies her mama liked to bake.

“Twinkle, twinkle…” Katniss sang, “little star-”. Her father sang to her whenever she was having a bad day. She hoped it would help the little boy. Katniss leaned over him and took a brick as she sang softly. He stopped making noises as she finished her song.

“You have a pretty voice,” the shy boy said. His tear filled eyes glanced at her with awe.

“No I don’t,” Katniss wrinkled her nose, “My papa has a better voice. Why were you crying?”

“The other kids were making fun of me, because of my name,” he whispered.

“What’s your name?”

“Promise not to laugh?”

Katniss nodded.

“My name is Peeta.”

"I like your name."

His blue eyes widened, awe in his voice, "You do?"

Katniss smiled.

"What's your name?"

Katniss shrugged. “My name is Katniss. It’s a plant that grows in the mud. Do you want to be my friend?”

“Sure.”

From that moment on Katniss was attached to Peeta. They were best friends all throughout Kindergarten. They were a team, coloring, defending the smaller kids in class from the bullies.

Peeta learned Katniss became cranky when hungry, he always brought an extra cheese bun to share for snack. Katniss learned Peeta's favorite color was orange. She gave him all of the shades of orange from her crayon box.

They shared their lunches together, and when Katniss got sick in class Peeta sat with her inside of the nurses office. He held her hand until her father came, and one day in class when Peeta tripped Katniss caught him before he fell into a chair.

“Peeta and Katniss sitting under a tree K - I - S - S- I - N - G…” one of the kids snickered one day.

Katniss narrowed her eyes, becoming mad by the taunting.

“Maybe one day we will be in love and get married and have the baby in the baby carriage. We’ll always be together,” Peeta replied.

Katniss snapped out of her anger. She turned to him and the thought of having Peeta, just like her mama had her papa made her happy. “Always?”

His gaze was unflinching, yet filled with tenderness. "Always."

The words formed a bond deep within her little heart. They were a team before but after this, they became inseparable. Nonetheless as all stories have a beginning, they also have an ending. Theirs had to come to a stop as Kindergarten came to an end.

During play time on the last day of Kindergarten, they sat with their little arms wrapped around each other, as if trying to absorb as much as they could of the other. When dismissal time came, they were not excitedly speaking about summer plans. Katniss sadly sat with Peeta in the class holding his hand.

“Peeta,” the Kindergarten teacher called. “Your father is here to pick you up.”

Katniss squeezed his hand tighter.

“I’m sorry Mr. Mellark, Peeta’s normally picked up by his brothers. Your son and Katniss have quite the bond. They are a pair of star crossed lovers,” the teacher explained. “They are so sweet.”

Peeta and Katniss stood, tears gathered in her eyes.

“Promise you’ll remember me.” Peeta hugged her.

Katniss who at first didn’t want to go to school had discovered a reason to go to class everyday.

“Always.”

“Here.” Peeta gave her a heart with a picture of them together, he’d spent hours in class drawing.

Katniss gave him an orange ribbon he liked.

They tearfully separated on the last day. Each one staring at the other over the shoulder of their respective fathers.

Sixth Grade:

“Dear Katniss,

I couldn’t believe it when I read you are in Mr. Raj’s class. I am also going to be in Mr. Raj’s class. It’s going to be so much fun this year we are going to be in the same school and I heard Mr. Raj is a great math teacher.”

Katniss couldn’t believe her eyes. She put down the letter. After they separated in Kindergarten, Peeta found out her address and he sent her a picture. It was a surprise to see the carefully drawn picture from her friend. It lifted Katniss' sadness. Her father encouraged her to draw him a picture in return. In six years the bond that began in Kindergarten grew. She learned Peeta lived in a very affluent part of town. Her home was humble in comparison, a two bedroom home that her father was restoring. She and her baby sister Prim shared a bedroom.

She was sitting at the study desk in the living room reading her letter. Prim was already asleep in their room upstairs. Her mother walked by humming as she carried a laundry basket upstairs. Katniss was trying to figure out what to write to Peeta.

“So what did young Master Peeta write?” Her father joked sitting next to Katniss.

“Daddy.” Katniss could feel the sting of the blush hitting her cheeks. Her father learning her pen pal was well off he joked that Peeta was richer than Mayor Undersee. Katniss didn’t like it but her mother often told her that her father was only having fun.

“We’re going to the same school in the fall and we’ll have the same math class.”

Her father whistled. “That’s pretty important stuff.”

“Yeah,” Katniss breathed.

“What are you going to tell him?”

“I was going to say how happy I am and about how this summer you taught me to use the bow and arrow.”

“Well don’t stay up too late.” Her father stood, and ruffled her hair. “I’ve got to change that cable, it’s frayed,” he said pointing to the floor lamp by the garbage bin.

Katniss nodded. She began to write, but what she wrote didn’t sound good. She tore the paper from her note book and threw it in the trash. Time began to tick away, as the trash bin filled up. Katniss sleepily glanced at her letter, she yawned and she placed her head on the table.

Coughing, she woke up to see her room was filled with smoke. Getting up she saw the trash bin was on fire. The curtain caught fire and Katniss screamed. Moments later her father ran down the stairs. Katniss ran from the desk into his arms.

Her father tore open the front door, and put her on the sidewalk, “Go to the neighbors house and call the fire department.”

Katniss nodded, and took off as her father ran back into the house.

“Mr. Wyler, Mr. Wyler,” Katniss pounded on the door. Tears streamed down her face.

“Katniss.” Mr. Wyler opened the door.

“My house is on fire please call the fire department!”

“Alex what is it?” Mr. Wyler’s wife asked.

“Call 911,” Mr. Wyler said, stepping outside to look at her home.

Katniss ran back home. but her house was burning. Her father ran outside with Primrose. “Stay with your sister, I’m going to get mommy, okay.”

“Daddy,” Katniss yelled. Mr. Wyler pulled her back. Katniss turned to her sister and put her arms around her. That was the last time she’d seen her father alive. The fire was started by the floor lamp. The frayed wires lit the papers from the waste bin on fire. It was her fault for not being able to write, to communicate well. She blamed herself for her parents deaths and she closed herself off.

Katniss vowed she would never allow others into her heart, for fear of losing them. Katniss and Primrose moved to another town with their uncle Haymitch Abernathy. She pushed the memory of Peeta away. She eventually met another boy named Gale, but she never let him get close and pushed him away at every opportunity.

College:

Katniss hated college. She wanted nothing more than to quit and go home. But to be honest she didn’t really have a home anymore. After her parents died and Katniss and her baby sister moved in with Haymitch nothing was the same. Haymitch wasn’t really her uncle, but he was the person her parents entrusted the care of their girls to in their will. Haymitch and his wife were not a typical married couple, they always bickered. Aunt Effie detested uncle Haymitch's geese. UncIe Haymitch reminded Effie on a daily basis that they lived on a farm.

Kathiss was going to stay on at the farm helping Haymitch run the place, but Haymitch changed all of those ideas when he showed her her parents’ last will. Going to college was the one thing her parents wanted for Katniss and Prim. Unbeknownst to Katniss, their parents had a college fund for each of the girls.

The fund and her scholarship she won for archery had secured her place in Panem University. Katniss was a shy person by nature and the bustling nature of the university overwhelmed her. While other freshmen met and became friends with the kids around campus, Katniss avoided people, people like her roommate.

The first few days, her roommate Clove was your average girl next door. Then precisely at midnight on the Saturday of that first weekend she shaved her head. The next day Clove painted her half of the room black, and she bought a set of paring knives that she used for target practice. Katniss was eternally grateful when on the following Monday Clove found a guy and moved in with him. Clove took all of her clothes and most importantly, her knives.

For the past 2 weeks the room was quiet and peaceful. Katniss didn’t have to put up with Clove’s screeching music. And although she enjoyed having a room to herself, Katniss admitted to herself she was lonely. She missed her sister. She missed the familiar sounds of Haymitch's geese. The click- clack noise of Effies heels, as she walked on the hardwood floors. She even missed Haymitch and his cantankerous ways.

Katniss' internal strife must have shown on her face because her sister was trying to make her feel better.

“Cheer up Katniss,” her baby sister said through the computer screen.

Katniss grimaced. Only a handful of people could tell what she was really thinking. She effectively hid her real feelings often. Life had taught her that putting her real self out there only caused hurt and pain. Her sister, her uncle Haymitch, and Peeta knew the real Katniss. Thinking about the boy with the warm blue eyes always caused flutters in her stomach.

Katniss shrugged.

“Look, I know you didn’t want to go to college, but trust me. Little things always lead to something bigger.”

Her sister was always spouting encouraging statements, like the one found on those posters. Katniss rolled her eyes.

“You are in a real mood tonight.” Prim grimaced, then said, “I hate to do this to you but do you remember when I did you that favor…”

Katniss at first frowned. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“You know when you and Gale wanted to go hunting for deer in the middle of the night? Remember I told you you’d owed me.”

Katniss blinked, she remembered that night. She stupidly wanted to go, thinking it was purely to hunt. It turned out all Gale wanted was to drink beer and try to make out with her. She’d given Gale a shiner when he tried to make a move on her. Gale was embarrassed to admit she’d given him a black eye; he said he ran into a branch. That was the beginning of the end of her so-called friendship with Gale Hawthorne. Prim had covered for her that night.

“What do you want you little shyster?”

Prim gave Katniss that grin that caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand up. Her sister was typically the nicest person unless she was on one of her missions then Primrose was ruthless.

“You must promise me the next time you go out you will speak to the first person you see.”

Katniss opened her mouth to protest.

“Katniss!”

Prim’s stern voice caused Katniss to shut her mouth. She mumbled, “Fine.”

“Good.” Her sister looked so proud of herself.

“Prim!” Katniss could hear their aunt call, “Time for dinner!”

Prim rolled her eyes. “I’ve got to go.”

The screen went dark and Katniss flopped herself on the bed. Her eyes narrowed. There was no way she was going to complete the task Prim set up for her. Katniss became grinchlike in her thoughts. There were ways of avoiding people. She’d done it in high school. Gale was an anomaly. He wouldn’t leave her alone after he found out how good she was at hunting. He was annoying as the gum that got stuck to your sneakers.

Sitting up, Katniss grabbed her pen and paper and jotted down a few notes:

eat breakfast at five in the morning

get to class just as it began

sit in the back of the class

buy lunch & dinner when the crowds are gone

Study in the library at odd hours

Wear a hoodie so that no one can talk to you.

Wear your headphones so it looks like you’re listening to music

With her plan set, she began to systematically avoid people. Katniss even purchased things like crackers, jelly, and peanut butter, chips and salsa to munch on so that she didn't have to leave her dorm room. During the week, she used shadows and stillness to get across campus to avoid the crowds. Everything was going to plan, except for the week of Thanksgiving break. Katniss didn’t have enough money to go home, plus there was a massive snow storm forecasted. Katniss decided to stockpile some snacks from the student commissary that Wednesday evening.

The campus was empty as nearly everyone left by the morning as to not get caught up in the blizzard. Katniss had one last class that ended at four-forty-five. Professor Coin didn’t let anyone out until the end of the class; the woman was merciless.

Going to the commissary was a risk. However Katniss was low on supplies, and she needed something to drink and eat. If the snow storm was as bad as predicted, the school cafeteria would not be opening. She also hated the cold and she wasn’t going to leave her dorm room until Monday morning.

Katniss hoped there wouldn't be a lot of people cramming the small building. Those left on campus were probably like her, doing last minute shopping. Katniss rushed out of class. The snow fell quickly and was accumulating.

She got to the commissary and thankfully it was still opened. She rushed in and rebounded back against a solid form.

“Woah,” a deep voice said.

Katniss blinked as the world swayed as she fell backwards. Suddenly she came to a violent stop, and her vision came into focus; she noted blond curls, warm blue eyes, and a gentle smile. She picked up on the strong scent of cookies. She looked at him then saw they were near a display of cookies and baked goods. A wave of nostalgia wafted over her as cookies and baked goods always reminded Katniss of her childhood friend Peeta.

“I got you.”

Katniss didn’t like to be touched. She’d clocked Gale for stepping into her personal space when they went on that phony hunting trip. However, being held right now caused her entire body to tingle. She felt the way her cheeks burned. Katniss was sure they glowed redder than an apple.

“Are you okay?”

She wasn’t much of a talker and all she could manage was a little nod.

A wave of familiarity hit Katniss. She shook her head, trying to understand what odd dimension she’d stepped into. Much the way certain scents brought forth certain memories, there was something about the guy holding her that didn’t cause her to feel that instant rejection. She didn’t mind his touch.

Unlike Gale who had a current of negativity about him, this boy had a current of good. Katniss thought maybe she’d fallen and hit her head. She must have been in a dream like state, as everything around her blurred and the music that was always blaring in the student run commissary was silenced. Only they existed in this small bubble. He was handsome and debonair. And Katniss couldn’t help but give a virtual stranger a slightly goofy smile.

“Here, let me help you.”

Katniss questioned why his voice caused her heart to palpitate like the beating drums from Jumanji. “Ahhh…’ the guttural sound that came out of her was sure to make an impression on the guy holding her. The more she stared at him the more attractive he seemed.

“It’s okay,” he said holding her shoulders, as she slipped on the wet floor.

He helped her become upright and Katniss noticed how broad his shoulders were, how masculine his hands were. She also noticed his eyes were that elusive blue that changed color with his mood. Right now his eyes were a cheerful robin's egg blue, as he grinned at her.

“Sorry.” Katniss blurted out embarrassed by her lack of coordination.

"It's okay the floor is wet from the snow."

"My friends call me Peet, not, P- E- T- E but P- E- E- T."

The spelling was unusual but at least his nickname wasn't painful. Gale called her catnip out of spite, because she decked him. "Katniss."

Peet's blue eyes widened at her name.

"I know it's not a usual name, it's a plant."

"It's a tuber that grows in the marshes with a creamy colored flower." He blushed and he rubbed the back of his neck as if embarrassed by what he was going to say next. "I know alot about flowers. I decorate cakes for a living."

"I hunt with bow and arrow," Katniss blurted. She opened her mouth and closed it, she felt giddy suddenly like when she was a child and the world included her parents.

"I sound like a geek." His cheeks became ruddy. Peet looked over her shoulder, “Man it’s coming down out there.”

Katniss blinked and forced herself from awkwardly gawking at Peet to the door she just came through. “Crap,” Katniss bemoaned. A few inches had fallen.

“We should hurry up. I’m in Crumpet Hall just across the way. Where do you live?”

“Greenly,” Katniss muttered.

Peet gave her a low whistle. “That’s way across campus. If you don’t hurry you won’t get to your dorm room on time.”

Peet was right, if she didn’t leave soon she wouldn’t make it to her building across campus. Her mind turned to the shelves, she needed to do a power shop, and get out. Thankfully there weren't a lot of people in the commissary. “Thank you,” Katniss said.

She hurried down the aisles quickly picking up what she needed. When she got to the cash register Peet was paying for his food. She kept on staring outside at the snow. The visibility was getting worse. Once done, Katniss bundled up to go outside.

“Will you be okay walking all the way to Greenley?”

Katniss turned to him. “I hope so.”

Both set out in the snow. The path that led from the commissary to the dorms was blanketed with half-a-foot of snow. The cold wind bit at her cheeks and it was getting harder to see.

"KATNISS!" Peet yelled out to her when they got to the fork in the path.

Kathiss stopped walking, he was only an arms length away. He got closer to her, as the snowfall dampened the sound of his voice.

"You should come with me,” Peet shouted. “I have a suite, my roommates are gone for the break. I promise I’ll be a gentleman.”

She trusted Gale because he was her hunting partner, but didn’t trust him outside of the woods. Her instincts about Gale were spot on. After they fell out he started going out with Madge, the mayor's daughter. Then he began the name calling. Looking into Peet’s eyes she wasn’t sure she should trust him. Just then she heard thunder and she jumped out of fright.

“It’s getting worse out here, we need to get to safety,” Peet said. “I lost my brother in a snowstorm!” He held out his hand to her.

Katniss heard the desperation in his voice. Learning he’d lost someone caused her to acquiesce. She took his hand.

Together they walked toward his dorm room. A walk that normally took five minutes took nearly fifteen. Peet waved his ID card in front of the scanner to get into the building. Once inside, the warmth stung their cheeks, but it felt good.

“Come on, my room this way. I can throw your coat and stuff in the dryers downstairs.

Katniss followed him through the winding corridors to his room. Using his ID card he opened the door to his suite. There were two doors and off to the side a small living area and a kitchen with another door.

As he walked toward the kitchen Katniss saw Peet had a limp.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He put the bags down. He sat down. “I have a fake leg,” He knocked on his leg.

Katniss would have never guessed that he had a prosthetic. The more she got to know about him, the more intrigued she became. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.” Peet shrugged.

The walls in the kitchen were painted a soft orange. The color struck something within her and once more she was hit with a sense of familiarity. She continued looking around at the kitchen. He had things that no average college guy would have.

There was a set of professional knives inside of a case. Stainless steel pots and a cast-iron pan hung neatly from a wall. There was a marble block and a wooden rolling pin neatly tucked away in a corner. And his spices were lined up on the counter. Saffron, thyme, Rosemary, allspice, clove, ginger, caraway, cardamom, nutmeg, dill, cinnamon we're just a few names she read. As a hunter knowing your prey’s environment helped you figure them out. Seeing Peet's environment led her to believe that what he said about being a baker was true. He was honest.

"I'm going to go get some towels and if you give me your coat, like I said, I can toss it in the dryer."

He walked out of the room as she removed her coat.

She was only removing her jacket, but for some reason it felt so intimate, as if she was peeling back a layer, exposing her soul.

She should have been terrified; she was in the dorm room of a stranger. Yet there was something compelling about Peet, an underlying sweetness and goodness that she found in only one other person, her sister. Like an old pair of shoes, comfortable and familiar.

“Here,” Peet said, handing her a fluffy robe. “It’s a bit chilly in here, my roommate always complains that if I could I’d have the thermostat set to zero.”

Katniss wasn’t expecting robe, but she took it, handing him her coat. When he walked out she sniffed his robe, it smelled of cinnamon and it made her smile. Her father always smelled of fresh pine. Katniss slipped on the robe and instantly felt a warmth that spread from her inside out. The door opened and Peet walked back in, he smiled at her, and his eyes turned a dark blue.

“Good, are you hungry, I’m going to make us some bread, maybe some cupcakes.”

“You don’t have to,” Katniss protested.

“It’s nothing. I made dough earlier. I've been letting it rest. I just have to sprinkle some herbs on top.”

It sounded wonderful, but Katniss didn’t want to give him any more trouble. “It sounds like a lot-” Katniss was going to say more but her stomach growled.

“Yup that settles it, grilled cheese sandwiches, tomato soup, and cupcakes.”

Katniss nodded.

“Have a seat, the remote is somewhere by the T.V.,” Peet said, washing his hands.

Taking her book bag, Katniss sat down in the living room. There was nothing on the television; all of the local channels were covering the snow storm. Her phone pinged with a message.

It was a message from Prim asking her if she was fine.

Katniss looked up at Peet. She asked herself if she was fine, and for the first time since coming to college Katniss could honestly say she was fine. She replied to her sister. With a soft smile on her face, she began watching him cook.

Peet’s movements in the kitchen were efficient, like the chefs she’d seen on TV. He took out several cookie sheets and put them down on the counters. From the fridge he took out tomatoes, peppers, and a bowl covered with a dishcloth. He set the oven to preheat.

Katniss moved from her position to the kitchen table so she could watch him. His hands were steady and quick as he put tomatoes and peppers on a cookie sheet. He sprinkled the tomatoes and peppers with olive oil, seasonings, salt and pepper, before putting them in the oven. He next set to work on the bread.

Fascinated, Katniss watched on as Peet took off his sweater and the white t-shirt he was wearing showed off just how fit he was. His back muscles moved under the t-shirt as he worked on the cupcakes. Peet was making them from scratch and not from a box. Her mouth watered. If it wasn’t for the pinging sound of her phone, Katniss would have continued to gawk at Peet.

It was Haymitch telling her to be safe. Katniss and her uncle had a strange relationship. They understood each other, but they never talked. Haymitch instincts were as good as her own. He never liked Gale. She sent back a thumbs up emoji. Glancing up, she knew instantly Haymitch would like Peet. He had that inherent goodness Prim had, and Haymitch had taken to her baby sister immediately.

“You don’t remember, do you?” He asked as he put water in the kettle to boil.

Katniss found this question odd. “Remember you? We’ve just met.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure we met before.”

He chuckled, then turned to face her. “You gave me this,” Peet took out something from his pocket and looked at it fondly. “You disappeared on me. I could have used a friend.”

He put the scrap of faded ribbon on the table and Katniss' eyes widened. “Peeta.”

“When I saw your eyes I thought it was you, but then you said your name and I just knew. There aren’t many Katniss’ in the world.”

Katniss eyes filled with tears. The boy she’d been writing a letter to, that caused the fire was standing before her. Though he wasn’t unscathed, he lost a brother and leg. “My parents died. We had to move.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“You wouldn’t have known; you were a kid. We were both children.” Katniss couldn’t move, however the ribbon mocked her. He carried it all of his life. The drawing he gave her had burned in the house. She didn’t know how to feel.

“That winter break I lost my leg and my brother.” He looked down, his eyes turning dark, a midnight color as he recalled the painful memory. “We snuck out of the house to play in the snow in the middle of the night thinking the storm was over. The snow was so heavy we got lost getting back to our house. My brother covered me with his body, it’s why I lived, but I lost my leg.”

Katniss looked at his legs before her eyes moved up to his face. He looked just like she felt, in need of a new beginning.

The whistle of the kettle forced him to turn around.

“Why are you stuck here for the weekend?” Peeta turned to hand her a cup of tea.

Katniss took the cup, and debated telling him the truth. He’d been honest with her. There was no reason to lie, besides she wasn’t a great liar. “I didn’t have enough money to go home,” Katniss automatically followed her answer with a question. “ What about you, why are you stuck here?”

“Nobody wants me home,” Peeta said.

Katniss frowned. It wasn’t the statement itself, but the way he said it, as if he was unloved. “Why?”

He turned around and shrugged, “I’m not needed.”

The smell of the apartment filled with the lovely scent of oregano and broiling tomatoes. Peeta shaped up the bread in his hands as if he had been doing it all of his life. “Anyone who can cook like you is worth their weight in gold. Right now my aunt is preheating the oven to cook the frozen dinners she purchased.” Katniss looked down at her idle hands. “I haven’t had a cooked meal in years.”

“My mom, she blames me for the death of my brother. She was relieved when I decided to come to Panem. She wasn’t at the train station when I left.”

Hearing how cold his mother was caused Katniss to pursed her lips. She stood and on impulse she hugged him from behind. All of those childhood sentiments filled up in her heart and all that he’d told her made her understand something. Prim was right, she needed someone in her life. And the universe had brought her friend back to her, despite all of her careful planning.

Peeta turned around and hugged her back. She stood on tiptoe and sniffed the collar of his shirt and the familiar scent of cinnamon and vanilla caused her to feel at home. She closed her eyes.

“I’ve missed you,” Peeta murmured into the crook of her neck. His hot breath fanning the sensitive skin, making her feel alive.

“I’ve missed you, too,” Katniss replied.

“I’ve never forgotten you, Katniss.”

Katniss could feel the rush of heat to her cheeks as she blushed and butterflies filled her stomach.

Peeta pulled away and then he grinned. “I better get you fed. If I recall you got really testy when hungry.”

Katniss laughed, then sat down. She picked up the ribbon. Primrose was right; from something small something great had happened. One day, she decided, she would tell their children of how a little ribbon led to a love of a lifetime.

FIN

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by mega-aulover

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photolover82 · 3 years

Text

The Masked Singer Season 5 Episode 1 Recap: The “Game Changing” Premiere, Let’s Meet Group A (Commentary & Guesses)

Hello my fellow Masked Singer friends! Welcome (or welcome back) to Ana’s Masked Singer recap, where I, Ana, recap every episode of the Masked Singer! Woohoo, the first one of Season 5 and I am so excited wow! Season 5 was off to an amazing start, with Group A performing for the first time. I really enjoyed this one, so let’s get into the recap:

Ok, so to start, we have a new host aka Neicy Nash, and I really liked her, she was like the female version of Nick Cannon. I enjoyed her banter with Ken too so it was great I liked it a lot.

Also, let’s talk about the infamous cluedadoo or how I am gonna call him the freaking “Rooster” 🐓🐔 who is not really an actual contestant competing but he is feeding us the clues (hehe see what I did there?) ...

He was kind of mysterious and I am intrigued honestly, but I still have so many questions, will he have clues? He did say that we have to guess who he is as well so how will this work? Anyways having said that, let’s get into the main 5 of Group A which are Snail 🐌, Seashell 🐚, Russian Dolls 🪆, Raccoon 🦝, and Robopine 🦔.

Let’s start with the eliminated contestant who was

*DRUMROLL PLEASE*

The Snail 🐌

Commentary: He sang You Make My Dreams by Hall & Oats and it was good, nothing amazing or mind blowing (we’ll get to those performances later), but I didn’t expect him to go home first (I’ll explain who I expected later too). I really enjoyed it personally, the song is well known and catchy, I was bopping my head. It was a solid performance. I would give it a rating of a 7/10. I kind of felt the same way about Baby Alien last season that I felt about Snail going home.

Anyways, having said that, he was revealed to be (to my surprise)...

*DRUMROLL PLEASE*

Kermit the Frog 🐸

Omg ok, I didn’t expect that, when I tell you my jaw dropped, I am not kidding. My first impression guess was Ted Danson for God’s sake.... like I didn’t get this and I am so mad I didn’t because when I rewatched it, I totally heard the Kermit in there, and I saw people say it on Twitter, but I was like nah they wouldn’t do that, these people are trolling... and wow yeah I was wrong, I felt like a 🤡. BUT OMG IT WAS KERMIT, WHAT AN ICON. The most famous contestant on the show ever... how dope! Now, we need Miss Piggy on the show, because she’s another icon lol. I wonder what she said about this hehe 😜

Anyways, now that that’s done with, let’s go over the remaining 4 and give you my subpar guesses, the first ones of season 5:

1. Raccoon 🦝

Commentary: Ok like yikes my eardrums... this one’s one of the worst performances I have seen on the show, like it was so screechy oml. He honestly should have gone home instead of Snail, Snail was done dirty. I really don’t understand how he is still in the competition... Sorry I wish I had something nicer to say but he was just yikes, I’m sorry it kinda seems like he isn’t singing on purpose, it seems like a joke.

My guess for Raccoon is (I am 💯 on this):

Danny Trejo

Reasoning/Clues: So like this sounds stupid, but when the guy sang, Danny Trejo’s face popped into my head for some reason... idk my logic sometimes isn’t logical... but anyways the clues align:

Been in Prison for a long time= he was in prison in California when he was young because he got into a lot of trouble with drugs

Read Hunchback of Notre Dame= he said that during his time in prison acting kind of helped him survive and he would recite Wizard of Oz and... you guessed it... the Hunchback of Notre Dame

2. Russian Dolls 🪆

Commentary: ok, so I already knew how they were gonna sound but I am still super impressed. I feel like there are more than 2 people, maybe 3, I feel like I heard 3 voices in there. They sang Man in the Mirror by Michael Jackson and it was impeccable, their harmonies are really great, and their voices blend together amazingly.

They are (again I am positive about this one):

Hanson

Reasoning/Clues: I know like everybody on the internet says this, but when I did the voice matching, it really does sound like them (even tho idk much about them personally)... but anyways here are clues that match:

Used to be the world’s hottest toy but then got replaced by shiner toys= they were popping off with their song MMMBOP in the 90s until they were replaced by other boy bands like *NSYNC and Backstreet Boys

Bus Stop= reference to a lyric from their song Man From Milwaukee

Sign that says Mitzfitz Toyz Store= Abbreviation of the guys’ first names, which are Issac, Taylor, and Zac aka ITZ

3. Seashell 🐚

Commentary: I am so happy that her voice is just as good as her costume, costume wise she is my favorite, and I am happy to report that her voice is also one of my faves. She sang Listen to Your Heart by Roxette and honestly she reminds me so much of Jellyfish, someone who is amazing vocally but has a bit of nerves at first. She does ease into it as it goes on and I really enjoyed it, she was great! However, at first, I thought she was someone else but then I heard her voice a second time and it sounded familiar....

My guess is (I feel good about this one):

Tamera Mowry

Reasoning/Clues: Besides her voice that made me think it was one of the twins, but the clues made me specifically think Tamera:

Hot Dog= the twins were born in Germany and Hot Dogs are German

Witch Broom= References to the Disney movie her and Tia Mowry did, Twitches, which btw is the reason I know them (that and Sister, Sister), that movie was my childhood I loved it

Chameleon= in an episode of Are You Afraid of the Dark?, Tia gets bitten by a chameleon and turns into the evil twin aka Tamera

Rooster clue: “No 2 Shells are the same”= she’s a twin lol, and she isn’t the same as her sister kinda thing

4. Robopine 🦔

Commentary: BRO I WAS SHOOK WHEN I HEARD THIS ONE SING. If you saw my costume rating, I was like meh I am not a huge fan of this costume, it’s kinda scary looking, and I just wrote it off, but BOY I WAS WRONG. My jaw was on the floor when I heard this man’s voice on the TV for the first time. He is absolutely my favorite of the night with his rendition of Never Too Much by Luther Vandross. His voice is BUTTER 🧈, so freaking smooth and wonderful. I just want him to sing me to sleep or for my birthday, like man I love him so much.

This one is so hard omg but I am gonna guess for now (it’s not a good guess, subject to change):

Eddie Murphy?

Reasoning/Clues: Ok, so I am not even gonna give reasoning, bc I don’t really know who he could be, I just threw Eddie Murphy because the man can sing and he is the age that was told... what really tripped me up was that he said he was in his 60s and has GRANDCHILDREN.... like he could be lying but it was so nonchalant that it was too good to be a lie, I was so confident at first thinking Chris Jackson but that what he said to the judges about grandchildren tripped me up, but also the judges thought he was lying but I am gonna act like he wasn’t and the only person I thought who could fit that profile is Eddie Murphy (or someone else said Terry Crews but idk I don’t think the man can sing like that)... however a lot of people say that it is Tyrese Gibson but that’s if the whole age thing is a lie but it is a good guess. Here are the clues tho:

Can of Soda Men in Black Drinking from

Spaceship Flying into Strands of DNA 🧬

He “used 411 day and night just to make a connection... until a certain angel said hello and a random call changed everything”

George Washington Figure

Now on his next mission

Anyway, that is it! I hope you guys enjoyed this recap! Don’t forget to follow, like, comment, and do all the social media-y things people do. Tell me whose your favorite performance/do you agree with my guesses? Lemme know! See you in the next recap! Bye guys 👋🏼😄

#the masked singer #themaskedsinger #celebrities #the masked singer season 5 #hollywood #music #kermit the frog #snail mask

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missnight0wl · 4 years

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Wayward Son

I finally succumbed and wrote an AU fanfic where Jacob dies. It focuses on a few moments between the siblings over the years after the Cursed Vaults. And to be fair, death aspect aside, most of it is basically canon for their relationship.

And yes, the title is a reference to the song by Kansas because it does make me think of Jacob.

Words: 5560

Autumn, 1991

When Helena declared that she wanted to stay longer at home after her graduation, her parents seemed to take it as an obvious decision. Physically, she was completely well even before September. She wasn’t going to waste it, so she started helping at the grandparents’ bakery. Mentally, however… She still needed to heal. And they all needed some time together.

Jacob stayed at home as well. He insisted that he wanted to pass his N.E.W.T.s, and with some help from Dumbledore, he managed to get permission to take exams in June next year without going back to school. He was studying a bit, but usually, he was spending his days similar to his sister: trying to find his place. It had to be more difficult for him because of his absence. Some things had changed their place at the house, people had altered some of their customs. He got new habits too. For their mother, it was especially hard to accept his smoking. Nevertheless, they were surviving, learning each other anew. Helena liked in particular when they were catching up on all pop culture Jacob had missed. It felt familiar, almost like childhood. Almost like it could be normal again.

The days weren’t the worst with all their distractions. When the nights fell, though, it meant either sleepless hours or endless nightmares. If Helena woke up with a scream, Jacob would always run into her room, sitting on her bed and cradling her.

“Shhh. It’s okay, you’re safe,” he’d say, stroking her hair. “I’m here, I’m finally here. It’s just a dream…”

But it hardly was just a dream. Usually, it was her memories - and Jacob knew that.

“Will you sing to me?” she asked quietly once when she calmed down.

He chuckled softly. “Aren’t you too old for that?”

“Please?”

He sighed, left without a choice. They both got more comfortable on the bed, although Jacob was probably too tall for that. He cleared his throat, yet his voice was rather raspy when he began. It didn’t occur to her that he probably hadn’t sung in ages. Still, it quickly turned into a sound she remembered from years ago. Only before the last verse, he made a longer pause.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.

You make me happy when skies are grey.

You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you.

Please, don’t take my sunshine away.

Spring, 1992

They were sitting at the table, and she was sceptically watching him staring at his books.

“You don’t need it, Jacob.”

He glanced at her before starting to browse pages. “But I want it.”

“Then why you’re just pretending that you’re studying?”

He cracked a smile, already knowing where she’s going with that. “Because I know most of those things.”

“See? Then you don’t need it.” She leant back in her chair. “Admit it, you’re just stalling before moving on.”

“Fine, maybe a little,” he replied, finally looking at her again.

She shook her head and sighed. “Bill should be here any moment now. I’ll go get my things.”

She left the room and went upstairs. She’d packed most of her belonging, but she still wanted to double-check everything. Besides, it’d take her mind off Jacob for a while. She was a little worried about him, but she didn’t want to nudge him. It was always hard to recognise if he was going through something because he was great at redirecting people’s attention, but it wasn’t even about him suppressing his emotions. It seemed like he was trying to get back the stolen time and feared that leaving would make it lost forever. As a result, he was stuck. He was offered a job at Gringotts with Helena, but he refused, making excuses about his exams. She wanted to do more for him, but she was ready for the next step, and she felt that if she wouldn’t take it, she’d got stuck as well.

She gathered her luggage and was about to get back to the living room when she heard Jacob and Bill talking.

“You sure you don’t want anything? Tea, water?”

“No, thanks.”

There was a moment of silence before Jacob spoke again. “You know, I never got a chance to thank you.”

“Hm?”

“For being a brother to her. When I failed--”

“Don’t,” Bill tried to interrupt him.

“No, I mean it. Thank you for taking care of her.” He took a deep breath before continuing, more tentatively. “It’s weird to think that you probably know her better than I ever could...”

Another pause preceded Bill asking: “What was she like as a child?”

“Oh.” Jacob got surprised by that question, but when he started to talk, Helena could almost hear him smiling. “She was like sunshine. Brightening your day and pissing off when she shone straight into your eyes. I suppose you know how it can be with younger siblings.” Bill laughed, and Jacob went on. “She… she was so curious about everything. They say there’s a certain age when kids won’t stop asking questions, but for Helena it was permanent. And she always had to defend everyone. Y’know, when Snape started teaching us, I complained about him back home, and she was like: you can’t say that, you don’t know him.” He modified his tone slightly to imitate her. “Maybe he has problems. You’re sometimes mean when you’re upset, too, but you’re a good person.”

They both chuckled.

“Well, she did change her mind on Snape, I can tell you that,” said Bill. “But other than that, sounds pretty much like Helena I know. Give her some time, Jacob. Give yourself time.”

The silence between them was longer now, so Helena took a few steps back to get some natural speed and pushed the door open. Two wizards were standing opposite each other and got startled when she entered.

“I thought I hear you,” she grinned at Bill. “What are you two plotting here, hm?”

“Oh, nothing at all,” the redhead replied with an innocent expression.

“Just gossiping about you,” Jacob added casually.

She gave them a suspicious stare. “Is that so?” She’d love to tease them, but they had to arrive with Bill at the appointed hour, so she glanced at her watch instead and then at her friend. “All right, I think I’m ready. We can get going.”

“You sure you have everything?” asked Jacob. Their parents said their goodbyes in the morning before leaving to work, so he took the responsibility of sending Helena off. “Mum left you package in the kitchen, did you take it? Do you have sunglasses? The cooler ones? What about sun cream?”

“I have everything,” she stopped his babbling with a hug.

“Be careful there, okay?”

She tightened her embrace in respond, feeling his ribs against her body. He still didn’t put on much weight.

Winter, 1994

Dear Jacob,

What the fuck do you mean you’re not coming? It’s Dad’s sixtieth birthday. SIXTIETH. You have to come. I don’t care what other plans you have - you knew about that day. Tell that pretty girl (or whatever you’re busy with nowadays) that you have responsibilities at home.

Seriously though, I know that you want to be here too, so… Please, try to make it.

Love you always,

- Ellie

“I can’t believe he didn’t come.”

“It’s all right, Ellie,” said Christopher. “I’m sure something just came up. He can visit us at the weekend.”

“Something came up? On your birthday?” Helena spat. “You know, but it’s not even that. He could’ve just let us know, say anything. It’s hard for all of us, but why he shouldn’t be trying too?”

Alice gave her a stern look. “Well, now you’re just picking on him.”

“I’m not! Mum, you got him a job at the Ministry. A good job. And what did he do? He quit--”

“That job was a bad idea from the beginning. You’d probably quit as well.”

“No, I wouldn’t!”

Alice only smiled softly. “You’re really not that different. Believe me, I know.”

The truth was that Helena was picking on Jacob. She indeed had no reasons to be mad at him, other than him not showing up on that specific day. He did quit his job, that part was accurate. But while she was certain that he’s getting in all sorts of troubles ever since, he never caused problems for them. He always appeared when his help was needed, during holidays or not. On top of that, Helena caught him a couple of times hiding money in places like a sugar bowl since their parents wouldn’t simply take it from him. But all of that made the current situation only worse. In the best-case scenario, it meant that he’s not telling her something big enough to stop him without giving any explanation. He could also be hurt, kidnapped, or worse…

“All I’m saying is that he has no excuse. Even if he’s too drunk or high to Apparate, he could’ve used stupid Floo Network or--”

And then, just like on command, the emerald green flames appeared in the fireplace, and Jacob entered the room, appearing quite confused.

“Did I make it?” he asked nobody in particular. He beamed when he looked at the clock. It was half-past eleven. He faced Christopher, spreading his arms wide. “Happy birthday, old chap.”

Over the whole day, the birthday man was trying to act unaffected by Jacob’s absence. Yet, he obviously got happier seeing his son.

“I’m so, so sorry that I’m late,” Jacob continued, not breaking their hug. “But! I do have an explanation!”

Helena rolled her eyes. Of course he did. Still, she got curious when he reached to his bag and took out a package covered in brown paper.

“I’ve found a lead for that a while ago, however, a bloke who was supposed to get it for me had some problems, and… let’s say he needed a reminder. Anyway, it created a delay, and long story short, I couldn’t risk not getting it at all after all the effort, so… That happened. And I’m really sorry once again, I should’ve known better from the beginning. But! At least I got some wine!”

When Christopher started to unwrap the gift, Jacob hurried to welcome both Alice and Helena.

“Oh my, is it the first edition?” Christopher was already holding an old book in his hands, studying the front page, his eyes twinkling.

“One of the first ones,” clarified Jacob. “But it has notes made by a professor from Uagadou.”

The old man looked at him excited before carefully browsing a couple of pages. “Oh, I have to compare it with my atlas. I’ll be right back.”

He left the room, patting Jacob on a shoulder while passing by. When he was gone, Alice looked attentively at her son.

“And I wonder how much did it cost you?”

Jacob shrugged and smirked. “A lovely dinner with my family.” He opened his bag again, pulling out two bottles of wine. “Did everyone leave already?”

“They did, not long before you came,” Alice replied softly.

To break the silence, Helena grabbed one of the bottles. “What about that wine? It looks fancy.”

“It is quite fancy. But this one is for Dad, and for Mum. We have the other one.” She looked at the other label and frowned her nose. “It’s the cheapest one they had, and it tastes like acid.” Jacob was clearly amused by his sister’s reaction.

Alice got up. “I’ll go bring some glasses then, how about that?” Then, she also left, letting the siblings stay alone.

“You’re mad at me, aren’t you?” Jacob asked finally.

“I thought we agreed to no secrets.”

This time it was him who rolled his eyes. “It’s no secret! I just wanted it to be a surprise!”

“Still, you could’ve told me! I’d cover for you!”

He was quiet for a moment, pondering on his words. A corner of his lips twitched faintly. “You know you’re terrible at surprises, Ellie.”

“That’s not true!” she said reproachfully. He only raised his eyebrow. “Oh, because I’d go to Dad and tell him everything, right?”

“No, but you’d tell Mum, and she’s no better than you.”

She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. Then, not thinking much, she opened the cheaper bottle and took a sip. She grimaced, regretting her decision immediately.

“I warned you it tastes like acid.” He was trying very hard to hold a laugh. “It gets somewhat better the more you drink.”

All four of them were sitting and talking until the late night, so by the time Helena woke up the next day, it was already noon. She got down to the kitchen where she found an unfinished bottle of wine as it turned out that Jacob brought bigger supplies with him. She took a clean glass and poured some liquor when her brother showed up out of nowhere and snatched it out of her hand.

“Ah ah ah, what do you think you’re doing?” he teased her.

She sighed. “I’m having a drink.”

“No, you’re not, young lady.”

“Jacob, I’m twenty-one. If I want to have a drink, you’re not gonna stop me.”

“I don’t care how old you are. It’s only past twelve.”

She gave him a stink eye because he was holding two glasses at the moment: hers and his own. “I’m guessing it’s your third one, you hypocrite.”

He seemed a bit perplexed for an instant, but then he grinned. “Only the second.” Still, he put both glasses on the side when Helena started brewing coffee.

“So, what you’re planning now?” she asked and covered a yawn.

“Like today or in general?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Well,” he started. “I wanted to visit grandparents’ today. That’s probably most of the day. And in general, I thought I could stay with you for a little.”

“Oh! But… I’m getting back to work.”

“I know. I wouldn’t bother you, I can get busy on my own or help you, whichever you prefer. And in the evenings, we could do something fun. What d’you say?”

Every now and then, Jacob would stop by whenever she was currently at her curse-breaking mission. However, he never stayed for long. They’d usually get out once, and after making sure she’s alright, he’d disappear. Spending more time together could be nice.

“Sure, sounds good,” she replied with a smile, filling two mugs with coffee.

Summer, 1995

Jacob was pacing between walls, running his fingers through his hair once in a while.

“We should leave,” he said eventually, stopping and crossing his arms.

Helena looked at him in disbelief. “What?”

“We should leave. I don’t know, to the States or whatever.”

“There’s a war coming, and you want to leave?”

“Yeah, exactly. You’re not gonna tell me it’s not a better solution than becoming Dumbledore’s soldier.”

She opened her mouth and closed it again, not being able to find the words. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Jacob, innocent people will be dying!”

“I know! You think I don’t?!” He started losing control over his voice. “But there are people ready to fight for them, and we don’t have to be among them! Even if Voldemort is back, he never got beyond Great Britain, so there’s no reason to think it’d be different any time soon. We’d be safe across the ocean.”

“How can you be so selfish?”

“I’m selfish?!” He made a sound between a gasp and a snigger, but when he spoke again, he was more steady. “Ellie, who helped you with the Cursed Vaults? Dumbledore? Who cared when we had to stop R which was, let me remind you, an international threat?”

“Oh, so that’s why we should do nothing now? Because that’s how we were treated? Do you hear yourself?! An eye for an eye and the whole world goes blind, Jacob, and passiveness can be as bad as violence! There will be more wizards thinking like you, but if we all leave, who’ll stay to fight?”

He wasn’t looking at her, and he switched to almost a whisper. “I was never selfish in my life. Never selfish enough to let the adults deal with all the cursed mess, as they should. Though, you know? Maybe I was selfish, maybe I just wanted to feel useful, fucking protector of everyone.” He sighed. “But you know where it got me? My best friend died when he was just fifteen, I had to leave my family, and I was imprisoned for years by R. Ellie, I…” His voice cracked and he swallowed hard, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just for once, I don’t want to worry about people being in danger. If it’s selfish of me, so be it.” Their eyes finally met. “I don’t care. I just want some peace.”

“Well, that’s not how life works.”

She left, not giving him a chance to reply.

The rest of the day, she spent with some of her friends, learning more about the whole situation connected to Voldemort’s return. The first shock - caused also by Cedric’s death - had passed, and they had to focus on planning. Still, Helena kept going back in thoughts to Jacob. She probably was too harsh on him. She saw where he’s coming from. In fact, sending their parents off to the family in the States wasn’t a bad idea at all. She came home late, so she went straight to her bedroom to think things over.

The next morning, however, it was neither Christopher nor Alice who she found in the kitchen – it was Jacob.

“What you’re doing here?”

“Breakfast,” he replied blandly.

“No, I mean, I thought you’d just leave after yesterday.”

“Someone has to keep an eye on everything when you’re in Egypt, don’t you think?”

“I didn’t tell you I’m going back there…”

“Yeah, well.”

He was chopping some vegetables while eggs were frying on a pan. There’s a joking rule in their family that you could use magic in the kitchen only if you’d learnt to make the dish also without it. Jacob always preferred to prepare things Muggle way, though. Helena could never match him, even with the help of the spells.

“Thank you,” she said abashedly, sitting at the kitchen island.

“For what? Food’s not ready.”

“For joining our side.”

“No, my dear. Let’s make it clear,” he spoke firmly, involuntarily pointing a knife in her direction. “I’m on no one’s side but yours. Got it?”

“So… you’re not joining the Order?”

“Hell no.”

“Well, thank you anyway,” she repeated. “And I’m sorry. For yesterday. I don’t think you’re selfish at all.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He still sounded a bit coldly, but he smirked ever so slightly. “Just…” His voice got softer as he knitted his brows in a worried expression. “I beg you, Ellie, be smart. Just because you’ll be outside Europe doesn’t mean it’ll be safe. It’ll be hell everywhere. And above all, remember: no information is worth dying for.”

“I know, I know…” She reassured him, though it felt like there’s not much she could say. “So, what are you planning to do?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged. “Maybe I could renew some connections in Knockturn Alley.”

“Oh, because that sounds very safe.”

“No, it doesn’t,” he cut in. “I’m aware of that. And that was my point. If you get involved, it’ll always be dangerous. But because you’re too stubborn to listen, I can’t simply… sit and watch, y’know. I don’t want to hear from some strangers one day: Hey, remember that cursed siblings? Yeah, the younger one just died. She was killed by fucking Death Eaters because she refused to learn from her brother’s mistakes. And he screwed up again because he could’ve done something.”

She bit her lips to hide a smile. Jacob only glanced at her, shaking his head with feigned disapproval before he focused back at his cooking.

May 1998

It was getting crowded at the Hog’s Head when Helena spotted Jacob near the door waving his hand at her. She immediately rushed to him.

“Jacob! You came!”

He frowned in confusion. “Of course. I told you so.”

“I guess part of me wanted you to not come…”

“Do you really think I’d let you go into a battle alone?” he asked raising his eyebrow.

“I’m not alone,” she replied, mindlessly pulling his flannel. “And you don’t want to be here.”

“And I don’t want you to be here either. But I know I won’t convince you to leave because Charlie’s here. And he’s here because his whole family is here. And I’m definitely not gonna discuss with all the Weasleys because it’d be both pointless and possibly stupid.” His smile faded away when Helena didn’t even react to his joke. “Hey, we faced worse before, didn’t we? At least we’re not the main target for a change, right?”

She nodded haltingly as Jacob embraced her with one arm, leading away from the entrance.

By the time they arrived at Hogwarts, the battle was raging. It was overwhelming chaos with troops of people storming to the castle. Helena was keeping both Charlie and Jacob in the reach of her sight, but as they were in the Entrance Hall, one scream caught their attention among all the noises.

“Fire! There’s a fire!” yelled someone.

“Then put it down!” they heard in a respond.

“I can’t! They had to cast Fiendfyre!”

Three of them froze. If it actually was the curse, there’s no way students could deal with it, and it’d be bad to let it spread. On the other hand, it could’ve been regular fire, looking more dangerous due to fear and panic.

“I’ll go check it,” decided Jacob. “We’ll meet in the Great Hall. Look after her, okay?” he added, smirking at Charlie.

Helena briefly squeezed his hand. “Be careful.”

In the next moment, Jacob was running up the staircase while Helena and Charlie joined the crowd moving to the Great Hall where most of the fighting was occurring. It seemed like they’re gaining the advantage over Death Eaters, but it was still heated, and spells were shooting from all sides. Helena had just helped some girls counter an attack and was looking for Charlie when she felt a sudden sharp headache. For a split second, her vision went black, which was enough distraction to not notice a beam of light speeding in her direction. She tried to dodge it, but it was too late, and the spell grazed her side, causing her to fall.

“Nell!” Charlie appeared almost out of nowhere and kneeled next to her. “Are you all right? Talk to me…”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she hurried to calm him down, though she grimaced with pain.

Charlie quickly checked the spot where she was hit. Her blouse was torn, revealing red skin, but there was no wound. “Come on, let’s take you from here.”

He helped her get up and led her to the edges of the room where he spotted Ben Copper tending to two students.

“Ben! We need you!”

The Healer hearing his name turned his head to them. “What happened?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” replied Helena. “I can--”

“No, you have to rest at least,” Charlie cut in. “Keep an eye on her, Ben.”

He deflected one more spell and run back into the fight. Ben in the meantime tried to examine her, but she gently pushed him away.

“It’s nothing, really. There’s no time for that.”

She was calm but determined, so Ben didn’t push. “All right, but you’re not going back there. I need some cover when I take care of those two.”

He pointed to a Hufflepuff girl and a Ravenclaw boy behind them, both visibly scared. Helena nodded and took her position. Everyone’s attention seemed to concentrate towards the centre of the Great Hall, so they weren’t being attacked directly, but stray curses almost hit them a couple of times. Helena also managed to stop some Death Eaters, whether from escaping or assaulting the others.

Suddenly, the shouting in the middle became louder, and the whole atmosphere got more tense. Helena was too far to tell what’s it about exactly, though - until almost all went silent. She exchanged questioning looks with Ben.

“Go, see what’s happening,” he told her.

When she finally broke into the crowd, she realised that everyone was paralysed because of the encounter within the circle. The Boy Who Lived was facing the Dark Lord. She tensely watched them moving in constant distance between them, looking ready to attack. She listened to the story of the Elder Wand, of the big intrigue behind that war. And then, with just one hit from both sides, it was over. Voldemort was dead.

The joyful cheering exploded around her. Everyone was trying to reach Harry Potter now, pushing her in that direction. But she needed to find someone else. She was scanning people in search of familiar faces to finally pick up Charlie’s. She ran right into his arms, laughing with relief. However, when she made sure that he’s all right, she felt a wave of anxiety.

“Have you seen Jacob?” she asked, holding onto his arm.

Charlie shook his head and his face got graver. “There are so many people. I still haven’t seen everyone.”

“I better go search for him…”

“I’m sure he’s fine.” He sounded confident, but she knew it was only because she needed to hear that. Anything could’ve happened, and a bad feeling was growing inside her chest.

She left the Great Hall, going oppositely to the most. She didn’t get far when she met Rowan, and she almost sobbed at her sight.

“Helen!”

“Rowan! You’re all right!” she whimpered, hugging her tightly. “Oh god, I didn’t see you at all, I didn’t know--”

Her voice cracked, so Rowan started patting her back calmingly. When they finally parted, Helena noticed an open wound on her friend’s arm.

“Oh god, you’re not all right!”

“It’s not a big deal.” Rowan waved her hand. “I’ll take care of it in a moment.”

Helena frowned, but she nodded and swallowed hard. “Have you seen Jacob somewhere?”

Rowan’s eyes got wider. “No, I haven’t. I thought he’d be with you.”

“He was. But then we got separated.”

“He’s probably helping people around the castle. There’s a lot of the injured. Do you want me to help you find him?”

Helena looked at her arm and took a deep breath. “No. It doesn’t look good, you better have it checked.”

Rowan hesitated, but she agreed to go see the Healers while Helena continued her search, walking faster through the debris, calling Jacob’s name. She started to think that perhaps they missed each other and she should return… when she finally spotted him on one of the higher levels. He was lying unconscious under the wall. There had to be a cut on his head because blood covered a part of his face.

“No…”

She approached him slowly as if it could delay the terrible truth. She fell to her knees and leant over him, cupping his face.

“Jacob, can you hear me?” She brushed his cheek with her thumb. “Open your eyes, Jacob…” She laid her fingers on his neck. There was no pulse. “Open your eyes, please,” she repeated. “Don’t do this to me…”

She wanted to believe that if she waited long enough, if she’d be patient enough, he’d come back – just like Rowan. That it’s not real, just another lie in her life. But at the same time, she knew that Jacob was truly gone. It was a battle, and he was just one of the casualties. She didn’t even know how he died.

She sat on the ground, leaning on the wall, and pulled Jacob up on her chest. She wasn’t sure how long she was holding him before she heard footsteps and Charlie got down next to her. He didn’t speak.

“It’s not fair, Charlie,” she whispered, sniffling.

“I know.”

“It wasn’t his war, he didn’t even want to fight. We should’ve left as he said.”

Charlie tried to touch her arm, but she got startled, so he just sat by her side instead.

“He already saved that fucking school! And for what?!” she cried out. “To be killed like that?!”

Her last words turned into a shriek. She pulled Jacob’s body up again as it was slipping from her grasp. He was too heavy, and she was too tired to carry him. Some more time had passed before they were found by Ben.

“Helen…” he started softly. “I’m so sorry. But we have to take him to the Great Hall.”

She finally raised her head and looked at them. Ben was squatting in front of her, Charlie still in the same place. She took a deep breath and carefully rested Jacob against the wall. Then, Charlie helped her stand up once more that day, and she immediately buried her face in his chest. She couldn’t watch Jacob being taken away. When she looked at Charlie, though, she recognised that there’s more bad news to come.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, trying to contain trembling of her voice. “Who else?”

His eyes were glistening. “Tonks… and her husband… they didn’t make it.” Helena covered her mouth with both hands. “And Fred--” The words stuck in his throat.

“He’s just a kid…” she murmured, hugging him again. “I’m sorry, Charlie…”

She wanted to stay with him and comfort him. She wanted to find Rowan and make sure that nobody else got hurt. But all the noises were overwhelming, and she felt like she started suffocating.

“I have to get out of here. I’m sorry…”

She somehow reached the exit, not fully registering things around her. Only some young excited wizard stopped her when she was about to leave.

“We won! Can you believe it?!”

“Did we, really…?”

He was too thrilled to notice her blank stare, and so he quickly went his way. As soon as Helena got outside, she choked on the morning air. She sat on the stairs and embraced herself in an attempt to control the shaking of her body.

“Hey, may I?”

Another minutes or hours escaped her attention. This time, it was Talbott standing above her. She nodded without a word, and he took a seat on one of the steps.

“I’ve heard about your brother. I’m really sorry.”

She bit her lips to stop a weep, but the tears fell down her face. They were sitting a long moment in silence.

“Will it always hurt?” she finally said weakly.

Talbott watched her with compassion. “Yeah.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Move on,” he replied softly. “Find something worth forgetting about the pain. And most importantly, always remember the good things.” He hesitated before patting her shoulder. “Tonks would want us to celebrate the victory,” he added with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you need to.”

And like that, she was left alone. She hid her face in her hands. It suddenly occurred to her that her parents probably didn’t know anything yet, so she wondered whether she should go back to the castle or home. But then, she was disturbed again.

“Hey, are you all right?”

She had to shade her eyes from the sun to see who’s talking to her. To her surprise, it was Harry Potter himself. The Boy Who Lived who just defeated the Dark Lord was asking her if she’s all right. He was the same age as her when she entered the final Cursed Vault. The same age as Jacob when he joined R. She suddenly felt bad because if her experience taught her anything, probably nobody showed much concern about Harry in all of that. When the wizarding world would stop relying on children to solve their problems?

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

He took a closer look at her. “Do we know each other?”

“No, I don’t think so. I mean, I know you…”

“No, but I’m pretty sure I saw you at the Burrow.”

“Oh!” She smiled faintly at that remark. It was almost funny that they never had an occasion to be introduced properly. “That is possible, indeed.”

“Well, nice to finally meet you then. I’m Harry.”

He reached out his hand to her. He appeared as exhausted as she felt. “Helena.”

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?”

She nodded. “Don’t mind me. But I guess you could use some help with those blankets.”

She took a part of the armful he was carrying, and they headed together back inside. She started helping wherever it was needed. She found Rowan being tended to by Ben and who was upset with him because he didn’t let her go find Helena – but he insisted that Rowan’s wound might’ve been too serious. She spent some time with the Weasleys, grieving over Fred. She was trying to keep herself busy and bring consolation to the others.

And the same thought was motivating her in years to come, just to not let herself get lost in the emptiness. Eventually, she even learnt to be happy again. But nothing could change the fact that in the Battle of Hogwarts she lost not only brother and friends. Part of herself died that day as well.

#long post #hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm mc #jacob's sibling #helena ellis #hphm jacob #jacob ellis #alice ellis #christopher ellis #bill weasley #charlie weasley #post hphm #my writing

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yujos-artfiction · 4 years

Text

TwstOBer: Day 26 Octavinelle

Characters: Female!MC, Male!MC, Grim, Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech

Word Count: 1150

Previous/Next

Notes: I... I have no idea how this manage to get this long... After this I should add the ship tag on Ao3? I mean this is only implied, not like the TreyJade ones I wrote...

“Ah~ Koebi-chan, Itachizame-chan, Azarashi-chan! You’re here~”

“Fufu. Welcome, Yue-san, Tristan-san, and Grim-kun. Thank you for visiting Mostro Longue again.”

“Hey, you two!” Yue greeted the Leech twin as she, Tristan, and Grim entered the lounge. “After that cryptic invitation from both of you we just had to come!”

“But why did I have to come…?” Grim muttered as he hid behind Yue’s legs. The twins still scare the crap out of him, not the ever will admit it.

Floyd just grinned, before he grabbed the girl's shoulders and lead her to one of the tables that were reserved for the residence of the Ramshackle Dorm.

Tristan followed them that’s where he noticed the addition to the lounge. Near their table was the usual stage, but on the stage stood a piano which wasn’t there before.

“Ah, so you noticed the addition,” Jade said his gentleman smile on his face like always. “We got it for the performance tonight.”

The human tilted his head. A performance? That would explain why he didn’t saw the other dorm leader lately.

“I’m sure Azul will be overjoyed when he finds out that you arrived. Since this night is just for you.” Jade spoke up again walking past the other who just blinked several times at the information.

“What do you mean?”

But Jade didn’t say anything and walked over to the table where Yue and Grim already sat at.

“Have you already chosen what to order? I would like to point out we added new items to the menu which I’m sure you would enjoy.”

“I will take the Menu-Set D and special drink A!” Grim ordered excitedly like always when it comes to food.

“I will take a special drink C and a risotto please.”

“Certainly.” Jade smiled before turning to Tristan again. “Would you like a drink, too? As a special service, I will prepare it in front of you.”

Tristan rolled his eyes. Of course, he would figure it out.

“I’m taking the same drink as Yue.”

“As you wish.” Jade bowed lightly. “Come now, Floyd. There is still work to do.”

“Eh~ But I want to stay with Koebi-chan and the others!” Floyd whined, he even wrapped his arms around Yue hugging her close to him. The girl just laughed and patted his back.

“You can once Azul’s performance start.”

“Fine~ Later Koebi-chan, Itachizame-chan, Azarashi-chan!”

“Later Floyd-kun”

They watched the Leech twins leave before Yue turned to Tristan.

“So? Jade-kun mentioned Azul-kun will perform. Is this what the invitation was about?” Yue asked in Mandarin, resting her chin on her palm while her free hand petted Grim who whined that he can’t understand what she and Tristan are talking about.

“This is for me.”

Yue blinked.

“Because he didn’t have anything for your birthday that passed weeks ago?”

Tristan just shrugged. Azul belonged to the few people who were a little mad at him for not telling about his birthday beforehand and only found out on the day it arrived. The merman wanted to do something for him, but Tristan refused.

He didn’t even care about his birthday. Not anymore.

He should have known that Azul was planning something when he saw that glint in his eyes.

“Ah!” Yue suddenly said causing Tristan to raise his brow at her.

But before his sister could answer the twins returned.

“Thank you for the wait. As a special service, I will prepare the drinks at your table.” Jade rolled up his sleeves and started to mix the drinks while Floyd placed the food on the table.

“Enjoy~”

And just as Floyd said that Azul stepped on the stage.

“I welcome our newcomers and loyal customers. Let me introduce myself again. I’m Azul Ashengrotto and I’m your performer this evening.”

For a brief moment, Azul and Tristan's eyes locked at each other, before the former sat at the piano. Not even a moment later the first notes started to play.

Tristan blinked in surprise. That’s a song from his world, but how did he manage to learn that?

That’s when he remembered the sound Yue made before the Leech twins came.

She smiled sheepishly at him.

“Azul asked me a few weeks ago about your favorite songs.”

That would explain it. To be honest, Tristan felt odd… Happy? He rarely felt that, that’s why it felt so strange for him, but he does appreciate what Azul does for him.

“I’m sure the last song Azul planned will surprise you the most.” Jade suddenly said as he placed the drinks in front of them.

Yue smiled as if she knows which song Jade was talking about, while Tristan was curios, while Grim was so busy with his food that he ignored everything else.

As the evening went on Azul played several songs when it was a Japanese one he would even sing it. Tristan had to say that he truly enjoyed the performance so far, the other students in NRC certainly joined him on this opinion as they couldn’t stop watching and listening to the dorm leader.

But when Azul announced his last song he stepped away from the piano and walked over to the edge of the stage.

“I would like dorm leader Tristan to join me for the last song.”

Before Tristan could even say anything the Leech Twins grabbed him and the former found himself on the stage.

The merman smiled at him, before taking his hand and leading him to the piano.

“I will start first and I’m fairly sure you know when to join.” Azul just said and his fingers started to play on the keys again.

This time Tristan’s eyes widened in shock immediately recognizing the song.

Wangxian. He is playing Wangxian the song of his ancestors. And he sang it in perfect Mandarin.

And suddenly he remembered a conversation of weeks ago.

“Why do you never sing the whole song?”

“It’s a duet. It feels wrong to sing it by myself, but… I hope I can sing it with someone one day. Who am I kidding no one would sing with me.”

“That’s not true…”

Tristan had ignored the last part of that conversation, but now his heart truly filled with happiness. He looked at Azul, who looked in return their eyes converting of what they wanted to say to each other.

‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’

Pulling down his mask he joined the other in the duet.

A rare smile on his face.

“Now I get it why Azul wanted to learn the pronunciation of the song.” Yue smiled as she watched the two singers getting lost on their own.

“Nene~ Koebi-chan~ What’s this song about?”

“A love song. About two lovers who faced a lot of tragedy, but after years they found each other again and stayed together until the very end.”

“Does Azul know?”

“He doesn’t, but I don’t think he would care anyway.”

#twstober #twisted wonderland #twst #Grim #Azul Ashengrotto #jade leech #Floyd Leech #twst grim #twst azul #twst jade #twst floyd #twisted wonderland grim #twisted wonderland azul #twisted wonderland jade #twisted wonderland floyd #Day 26 #octavinelle

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vanchlo · 4 years

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The Assistant / Chapter Forty-One, “Finally”

*Gifs are not mine*

Clickable Links:

- *NEW* Becky Magazine Cover from an O.C. Tag Challenge c:

- Masterlist feat. all chapters and Character Surveys

- Inspo tag

- Hecky Playlist

- Read on Wattpad

Warnings: None

Word Count: 10.3k words

Song: You’re Still The One by Shania Twain, bc duh Just Like Heaven by The Cure (click to listen)

A/N: I am SO excited for you to read this chapter, you’ll soon find out why ;)

SNEAKYYYYYY PEEEEEK

For the fiftieth time in the last two days, I couldn’t be more grateful for how easy things are coming together. I couldn’t be more thankful to have him by my side. It still feels like a dream getting to live this life now, and getting to work with him on the daily, singing Spice Girls amidst stolen cheek kisses.

One puzzle piece at a time, and there’s only one or two pieces left in this puzzle of ours.

"And then my soul saw you and it kind of went ‘Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.’"

- Iain Thomas, ‘I Wrote This For You’

There was truly nothing that could rock the waves I was currently riding, and I couldn’t wait a second longer to do the very thing that would make them even bigger. They had only climbed since telling Asher earlier this evening, and the smile that shared on our faces.

Skye was sprawled out on the sofa when I opened the door, finding it impossible to hide the grin on my face as I read a text from Harry that had dinged a moment before.

i havent been this excited for somethin in a long time bug. absolutely cant wait to see u on friday, idk if i can wait that long ;) good luck on ur case with Myles 2moro, you’ll do great Becks xo

“Well, look who has a pep in her step, all of a sudden. I don’t think I’ve seen you smile in days, since Harry’s left. What’s the occasion, Ree?” she teases, surprising me with the simple act of muting an episode of The Great British Bake Off that our nights consist of as of late.

“I may have had a good day,” I suggest with a shrug of my shoulders as I put my coat away in the closet.

“Since bloody when? You were in a shitty mood the last time we spoke, having ‘Harry withdrawals,’ or something. I’d say the only reason you could be happy right now is if you’d seen him, which would be impossible seeing he’s in Glasgow for another few days,” she mutters. I observe the look on her face change and how her eyebrows dance along her forehead after I turn around to face her, letting the smile lose. “Wait, he’s still there, isn’t he?” she questions, reaching a hand out as if looking for an answer with her body, too.

My head shakes from side to side slowly as my lips part to show my teeth, a rarity among my smiles, and the expression dawning on her face tells me she recognizes it too. “He came back today, his case finished early, Skye. And I asked him out on a date!”

“You didn’t?! Ree, you better not be kidding with me, or I’m gonna be really pissed at you!” she chuckles, feigning intimidation in her voice. Hints of the emotions buzzing around inside of me play across her face, meanwhile, my happiness keeps growing notch after notch.

I don’t know if I can wait that long either, Harry, cause I can’t remember the last time I was this excited. Thank you so much xxx

“I’m not kidding, Skye, and he said yes! He didn’t even let me finish asking and he said yes!” I exclaim after sending the text I had been typing, feeling her arms come around me in a shock when I look back up.

“I’m so fucking happy for you, Ree, it’s about bloody time!” she remarks excitedly, almost crushing me in a hug.

“Me too, I can’t remember the last time I was this happy,” I admit softly, relaxing in her arms, even though part of me wishes they were the arms of somebody else. Only an hour later, and I already miss him. Wow, I’ve got this bad.

“Did you kiss him at least?!”

“No, I’m waiting for the date, I guess. I looked like proper crap today, I’ve been up so late the last few nights prepping for the case with Myles,” I laugh, pulling away from her smell of peaches and chocolate when my pocket dings.

“First kisses aren’t something you plan, Ree, they just happen out of nowhere. The sooner, the better.”

“I guess you’re right,” I confess with a smile stuck to my lips. “We’ll just see what happens.”

Happiness and its synonyms still fill me to the brim an hour later, and whilst my thumbs flit across the screen of my phone. Her words stare back at me, and unbeknownst to me how, I wish I could see her again already. My footsteps wander down the main hallway, and before I know what I’m doing, I arrive at her door. Low and behold, it’s closed and my heart sinks into my chest when I find darkness waiting behind it.

miss u already bug xoxo

My words are whisked off to her, and soon my legs are entering the doorway of a certain somebody’s office, although not the one I was hoping for.

“It’s about time you made your rounds and came to say hi to me. Should I feel offended I’m the last one on your list?” Myles teases from behind his desk with a grin lining his lips.

“Oh, shuddup. Did Becks leave already fer tha night?” I question, letting my shoulder fall to the door frame as I watch the small ‘delivered’ appear under my blue text.

“Yeah, I ran into her about twenty minutes ago in the break room when she was clocking out. What, didn’t you already see her?”

“Ya, she was me first visitor. I was jus’ hopin’ t’ see her ‘gain,” I shrug, well aware of the terrible job I’m doing of hiding the one hundred watt smile I’m wearing.

“And does that have anything to do with you blinding me with that smile of yours?” he inquires, raising a sandy blonde eyebrow at me.

“Maybe it has sumthin’ t’ do with me havin’ a date with her on Friday, as of an hour ago,” I reveal casually with a shrug of my shoulders, feeling the smile grow larger somehow.

“Fucking finally,” Myles chimes with happiness spreading across his face, and I nod quickly.

“I know, ‘s all finally comin’ t’getha fer us.”

It would be accurate to say that I was still in utter disbelief after yesterday, and rehashing it all to Skye the second I got home only made it all seem more real, and even better. Then again, that was an understatement, because I had been waiting for this for years. I had been waiting to feel this way for too long, and to be able to say and think that I have a date with Harry tomorrow. An actual, proper date. Several times, I cursed myself for not making the date on Thursday night, tonight, because although I had waited painstakingly for five days, another two felt like twenty years.

It was even bittersweet coming to work the next day and not seeing him there, confusing the habits and expectations I had come to know. I still had to finish up the case with Myles that he would finish arguing, with my help, for the next two days. I tried to think of it that way, that the date would be even better after finishing that case, and in a way, signifying my return to Harry. God, it was all too perfect, but it would be even more so if I didn’t have to wait another bloody day, well actually two, to see him. Yesterday wasn’t long enough, but when I think about it, no length of time ever is with him and that’s how I know I’m in trouble.

Also, that I’m walking right into one of my dreams.

After a morning spent in court starting off the case, I was back at the firm with Myles after lunch to work on it some more. He had given me more time to myself to work on my own than Harry had, but I preferred it that way. Harry was right, Myles was good to me, and I did learn a lot from him, but it wasn’t the same as being with Harry. Nothing has ever and never will be the same as being with him, certainly not. Also, the whole Family and Interpersonal side of court was depressing as fuck, I found out. The topic littered Harry and I’s conversations the last almost week, resulting in me taking after him and deciding to stay far away from it for now.

I’m reminded of him everywhere I go, and it definitely makes trying to get my work done all the more difficult. I see his face in the succulent sat at the corner of my desk, behind my office chair where he would lean over me to help me on my laptop, on my sofa where he opened his birthday presents with explosive happiness, and in the reflection on the tall window where I now stand in the same spot as on his birthday when he hugged me against his front with a kiss to my head. A day later, and it all still feels so surreal to me, and I’m not mad about it. I appreciate its distracting qualities, leaving me to not worry as much about what the hell I’m going to wear tomorrow, and messing things up. Skye’s already picked out five outfits for me by now, I’m sure, but I was at a loss last night when I perused my closet. The pressure to impress somebody I’ve already met a hundred times, feels even greater than my second interview I had at the firm, and I tell myself I don’t know why, even though I do.

I want to wear the right thing, and feel beautiful. More than that, I don’t want to mess things up between us, again, no matter how stupid that sounds. No matter how premature it is to worry about right now.

With the happiest of sighs, I wander over to my bookshelf that now sits a dozen law books, gifts from Harry, Skye, Robbie, my dad, and Asher. Perhaps my favorite, to no surprise, is the Lawyer’s Dictionary that Harry got me. It has a section for all of the law jargon, another on many important laws, and lastly finishes with a guide for working the courtroom. I was just getting on my tippy toes to grab it when I feel a pair of arms surround my chest and pull me against theirs.

“Hiya, brat,” a voice teases, tickling my neck.

“Harry!” I exclaim with surprise, grabbing hold of his forearms. “Why do you love to scare me so much?”

“I dunno, ‘s fun, and coz yer a brat, so ya deserve it,” he giggles, and finally I relent and do too as I turn around to face him.

“I am not a brat!” I argue, finding his flushed stubbly cheeks, taking a second to get used to the thick stubble covering them now.

“Ya are, I reckon, couldn’t even wake me up last night t’ finish tha rest o’ tha FRIENDS episode on FaceTime, jus’ kept watchin’ along without me. If that doesn’t make ya a brat, then I dunno what does,” he tuts, clucking his tongue as he shakes his head at me. My giggles grow into a hearty chuckle as his folded hands settle at the small of my back.

“Harry Edward!” I scoff, swatting at his chest once again hidden by his Northface coat, matching his black skinny jeans.

“Hey, ya betta watch that hand o’ yers, bug, and that mouth too.”

“I’m not a brat,” I whine, all facial features falling into a pout that immediately grabs his attention.

“Rebecca Ann, don’t even start with me. Put that bloody pout away befo’ ya regret it,” he insists, pointing his eyes at me with the smallest of smirks peeking through on his lips. It wins him over and soon his dimples accompany his deep laugh. “Stop, yer not a brat, bug, ‘m jus’ teasin’ ya. Y’know that. Jus’ can’t believe it didn’t even take a week fer ya t’ skip ahead o’ me in our show.”

“The episode was already three quarters of the way over!” I protest, earning a good finger wag at me. I fight back and push against his chest. “And I didn’t want to wake you up, you were so tired.”

“No, it was not! It was only half way through and ya couldn’t even wake me up! How rude o’ my Becks t’ be makin’ up excuses.”

“Stop being mean to me,” I pout again, beginning to turn away with my arms crossed over my chest.

“Hey, ‘m jus’ givin' ya a hard time, bug, y’know that. Yer neva a brat, and even if ya are, yer my brat,” Harry hums warmly, the honey returning to his voice in full force as he catches me around the middle with his arms once again. I can’t remember the last time I heard his voice absent of the honey, though. I don’t ever want to. “I wouldn’t want ya any otha way.”

“I knew you were only joking.”

“You li’l liar!” he laughs against my temple and mine joins his ever so contagious one. “Y’know, ‘ve always loved how ya neva take me shit and how ya can dish it right back, Becks.”

“Of course, I figured out at the very beginning that I wouldn’t get by without it.”

“That’s me girl,” he coos, bringing me forth and round to find his gentle green eyes once more. They smile at me with a sparkle to them I haven’t had the pleasure to know before. I’ve yet to see him look at anybody this way, and I wonder if I have my own special look in my eyes for him, too. If I do, it was born long ago.

“What are you doing here? I thought you had said you were going to take it easy until Monday, since your case got done early,” I wonder aloud, unsure of what to do with my hands until they venture to his coat’s zipper on their own, pulling it up and down distractedly.

“I was, until My’ roped me into a partner meetin’ t’day, and I wanted t’ see a special sumbody,” he sighs with an accented roll of his eyes at first, and then they dish out their dazzle on me. “But that’s it, and ‘m off afta that. I hafta do a li’l work fer my case afta finishin’ it, but it’ll only take ten minutes tops. Then laundry, cleanin’, and tha like at home before grocery shoppin’. Only jus’ now got outta bed, tha bloody jetlag.”

“Ah, I see. The work of a lawyer never ends, it seems,” I comment and he nods above me, eyes watching my every move closely. “God, if I knew you’d be here today I would have tried a little harder when I got dressed this morning,” I laugh nervously, my eyes falling to his crimson button-up peeking out from his coat, decorated with gray flowers and foliage.

“Ya don’t even hafta try and ya look gorgeous, Becks. Promise,” Harry disagrees, the molasses pouring out from his words and into my heart, pushing the very last chip away. Just like that, I’m all his again, but I think it happened long before this and I didn’t know. Daring a look up at him, the dimples couldn’t be deeper in his cheeks as his sunshine smile radiates onto me, the pad of his thumb rough against my cheek. “I sure missed seein’ that smile, ‘s me favourite.”

My anxiousness carries away with the sunshine, and I’m left with red cheeks and a smile that makes them hurt. It almost pains me to look into his bright sunny eyes, but I wouldn’t want to be looking anywhere else. Finally, I let myself look and with that, I let him in a little further and start to let go.

“You’re really laying it on thick,” I jest harmlessly with a smile, dragging my finger down the seam of his chest where the two sides of the fabric meet in red cloth buttons.

“Ya, coz I finally can,” he grins, and the warmth spreading across my body in tingly waves finds an outlet in a soft laugh of mine.

Anxious yes, but ever so happy while his hand spreads out flush against my back, fingertips moving lazily. I’ve already pinched myself once or twice today wondering if this is all a dream, and shocked that I could ever be this happy. There were so many times I doubted the existence of it and its possibility, and everything it had to do with having this with Harry. Predictably, an electronic twinkle interrupts our conversation, and I’m confused to find him lifting his wrist.

“Woah, look at the fancy lawyer,” I tease, his already colossal smile growing taller as he flicks a finger across his shiny new Apple watch. “That must have cost a pretty penny.”

“Ya, and My’ dished out e’ry last cent,” he titters, pressing his palm to the shiny surface rounded by space grey edges, returning his eyes and hands to me. “It was his birthday present t’ me, sayin’ that I should be mo’ organized at me age, or sumthin’.”

“Talk about brutal honesty right there.”

“Don’t go bloody agreein’ with him now!” Harry scoffs, but his mouth open in disgust is no more, lined by joyous lips that soon attack my cheeks in kisses.

“No, no, no!” I beg aloud in shrieks when his quick fingers dance along my ribs, sending jolts of electricity across my body. More exclamations and pleas escape them before I say the magic words, “Harry Edward!”

“What d’ya want, hmm, Rebecca Ann?” he asks breathlessly, that adorable breathy laugh falling off of his glossy cherry lips.

“I think you like saying my full name too much,” I contend, giving up and falling into the sage green abyss of his eyes for the hundredth time, or more.

“Maybe I do. Maybe I like it,” he shrugs mischievously, that smirk glued to his lips that pull me in.

“Do you like it, the watch?”

“Ya, ‘s nice. I thought ‘d told ya ‘bout it, sorry. Reckon it has helped me t’ stay organized. Speakin’ of, me meetin’ ‘s inna few, so I hafta take off, bug,” he croons with disapproving lips, his bottom lip soon jutting out from the top.

“Harry Styles, don’t you even!” I threaten rather weakly, the sounds of happiness leaving my lips doing a good job of that.

“Oh, and what if I don’t? Hmmm, Rebecca Holte, jus’ what will ya do ‘bout it?” Harry returns, wiggling an eyebrow at me that makes my chest rumble with harder laughter.

“I’ll just have to stop you, but I don’t know how just yet.”

A devilish smirk is born on his lips before my eyes, and soon leaves my view while his face escapes to the crook of my neck, his voice soon tickling my skin, “Lawyers gotta be quick on their feet, bug. Reckon I can think o’ a way ya can make these lips stop poutin’, maybe ya can try it on me t’morro’ afta our date,” he hums against my neck, knitting up his sentence with a whisper of a kiss below my ear.

I feel like a fricken sixteen-year-old all over again, and I’m loving every second.

“You better get going to your meeting, before you’re late, Harry,” I giggle uncontrollably, sure that my face is blotchy with red all over because of what he just said. My suspicion is confirmed when he lifts his head of moused curls to look me in the eyes again, and the glint in them tells me so. I feel like I can read him even better now, all because he’s letting me.

“‘s alright, they expect me t’ be late by now, ‘s a given,” he insists with a comedic shrug of his shoulders, hands wandering away from my back and to our sides where they invite my hands into his.

“Will you stop and say goodbye this time?”

“‘Course, bug. ‘m sorry I missed ya yestaday, ya had already left afta I had made me rounds,” he assures me, receiving a quiet ‘it’s okay’ from me.

“Try not to fall asleep at your meeting today,” I joke, watching his eyes roll into the back of his head briefly before he scoops me into his arms for a squeeze.

“I won’t if ya promise not t’ be a brat anymo’ and skip ahead in our show.”

“Get lost and go to your meeting already!” I laugh, shoving him away by his chest, observant of his mouth relaxing into a disbelieving ‘O’. His laugh echoes mine quickly, only disrupted when my hand comes to his cheek to plant my lips on his other for a few seconds longer than necessary. “I’m so glad you’re back, Harry.”

“So am I, Becks, so bloody much,” he echoes, holding my hands a little tighter in his, even bringing one to his lips for a kiss. “Good luck on yer case, love, for tha thousandth time. ‘m so proud o’ you.”

With that, he leaves me in a puddle of my own surreal emotions, disappearing from my office with a look over his shoulder wearing that smirk. That very smirk I want so desperately to kiss off those cherry lips already. Tomorrow, I think, if I can make it until then. Just one more day.

I had been struggling with finishing this last part, or rather redoing it, for too long now. When my eyes again strayig to the violet clock, I was surprised to find that it had been almost an hour, and I hadn’t gotten much further. With my head in my hands, I sigh as feelings battle to be felt within my insides. After today’s argument, Myles and I had to shift our approach, and I still wasn’t sure of how to do that. He had been helping me, of course, but I still felt so lost. It doesn’t help that he’s currently caught up in the partner’s meeting that Harry is also at, and Jennings who is but isn’t a partner. I still don’t get it, even though Harry explained it to me a few times. The next time he does, I’ll have to remember to ask him to dumb it down for me.

Even after pouring over our shared notes in Google Docs, and my several law books strewn across my desk, I’m at a loss for what to do.

I wish more than anything that it was already five pm tomorrow, and that the only thing I have to think about is my date with Harry. I still don’t know what the hell to wear, or to do with my hair, or how heavy to go with my makeup.

“Why tha long face, bug?” somebody pipes up, pulling me away from my immersive thoughts. Blinking hard, I tear my eyes away from the laptop screen and look over to the door, but I don’t lift my tired head from my propped fist.

“I don’t know what to do for my argument.”

“Still? Why didn’t ya jus’ ask, Becks?” Harry hums with an inviting smile, pressing the door to come just shy of closing.

I shrug my shoulders with a heavy exhale, scrolling through what I have so far, quickly realizing how embarrassing it’ll be to show him. I can’t exit out quickly enough, hearing his footsteps arrive behind me.

“Hey, what d’ya think yer doin’?” he teases when I switch tabs, quickly feeling the weight of his hand on top of mine, dragging the mouse along. “Don’t be nervous, love, ‘m here t’ help. Always am,” he coos softly, a hand settling on my adjacent shoulder, earning me an encouraging squeeze.

“It’s embarrassing, Harry. I’ve been sitting here for over an hour trying to figure out what to do, and I have next to nothing to show for it.”

“Relax, ‘s only yer first official case yer arguin’. Don’t be so hard on yerself, Becks. It sounds like ya need a break, bug,” he insists, sending sparks along my left arm as he rubs stripes along the skin. It’s not long before I hear a familiar laugh and slowly, Harry’s dancing figure comes into view. “Yo ‘ll tell ya what I want, what I really, really want. So tell me what ya want, what ya really, really want,” he belts out, his phone blasting the song cupped in his hand.

“Oh my God,” I sigh with an accidental laugh, my head falling into my hands. I’m too curious though, and so I peek out from behind my spread fingers to watch him sing passionately with his eyes closed while breaking out some amusing dance moves. “Please, stop,” I chuckle, but I’m sure he also hears the lie in my voice.

“‘m not stoppin’.”

“Please, Harry. You’re going to make me die from secondhand embarrassment,” I confess into my hands, feeling brave and letting my fingers fall down to below my eyes. Mistakenly, his catch mine and they fly back up to cover my eyes, or for the most part.

“Rebecca Ann, ‘m not stoppin’ ‘til ya come and join me.”

“Then you’re going to be there for a while,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders, certain of one thing and that’s the smile claiming my lips, and the forgotten document staring at me. I’m too preoccupied with the silly, dancing man in front of my eyes, and how somehow this makes me love him all the more.

��Becks,” he insists, in between singing along to the song very badly. Oh no, I think as his steps near me once again. Before I know it, I’m staring into darkness as his breath tickles the back of my neck.

“Stop,” I beg with laughs interjected among my pleas. They grow into near shouts and exclamations when his singing is accompanied by his fingers dancing across my sides, and along the slopes of my neck. “Harry!” I almost yell, and when my laughs couldn’t hurt my belly more, it all ceases. Only the singing remains and is joined by his stubbly cheek against my temple, and his arms coiled around my shoulders. “If ya wanna be my lova, ya gotta get with my friends.”

“Make it last forever, friendship never ends,” I continue for him, giggles heard at the end when his nose tickles the corner of my sensitive neck.

“There’s me happy Becks, ‘m glad I found her ‘gain,” Harry coos, leaving a kiss on my temple before he helps me to tackle my argument.

Five days did and didn’t feel very long when I think about it now, with his arms wrapped around me as his voice tickles my ear. Too easily, I can remember his absence over those long days, and how effortlessly they felt far longer. I barely survived with his texts and phone calls alone, and it hurts to think that if it hadn’t been for his case finishing early, I’d still be sitting here in my office all in my lonesome.

Those thoughts are yanked away - thank God - when his voice brings me back, spewing legal mumbo jumbo that luckily nowadays I can understand, but I couldn’t have always said that. Harry makes quick work of what would be my best route to take and how I do that, and for the fiftieth time in the last two days, I couldn’t be more grateful for how easy things are coming together. I couldn’t be more thankful to have him by my side. It still feels like a dream getting to live this life now, and getting to work with him on the daily, singing Spice Girls amidst stolen cheek kisses.

One puzzle piece at a time, and there’s only one or two pieces left in this puzzle of ours.

The murmur of voices assaults my ears when I walk through the door, and feel my vision tugged towards the ceiling decorated with chandeliers. A song by Frank Sinatra floats around the entryway, hardly calming my overactive nerves, despite it being a favorite of my late grandpa’s. When I finally reach the host’s stand, the nerves topple out with my words, jumbling them.

“Reservation for H-Harry Styles, please,” I tell the towering, dark haired man. After a few moments tapping away on the kiosk, he grabs two menus and leads me through a maze of linen covered tables sat under the glow of the several chandeliers.

I try to hide my disappointment when he leads me to an empty, round table, leaving with a few words about my server being with me soon. Another feeling bubbles up inside me, forcing itself to join all of the others mixed together within me. I had a feeling I was too early, I think silently as I shrug off my long pea coat to hang over my chair. Skye’s wishes of good luck and ‘lots of snogging’ float back to me, filling my sad cheeks with another wash of pink. ‘No, you aren’t driving yourself, I’m dropping you off so then you can get a ride home with him, and lay a big one on him when he walks you up,’ she had insisted, but the anxiousness years in the making is doing a good job of making me doubt myself tonight.

My attention drifts to my phone that is silent with no new messages, but I still check our conversation. The last message was from him:

see u in half an hour for our date bug :) xxx

My thumb scrolls through our previous messages, straying to last night’s that brings a smile to my face.

I have no idea what to wear tomorrow :/

meant it when i said u look beautiful in anything Becks ;) help what should i wear ? xx

I might be a little impartial to that gray suit you wore to my class lecture that one time ;)

noted ;) i may especially love the color red on u if u wanna know

Noted ;) Question....

shoot, love

Skye was gonna drop me off tonight on her way to her boyfriend’s …. Would a ride home be too much to ask?

course not Becks. anytime u need a ride im here. id love to give u a ride home. perfect we can jam 2 some spice girls in the car then ;)

I can’t wait

neither can i bug :)

My reminiscing is interrupted when my eyes fall to my outfit of choice, tugging up the scoop neck that Skye insisted wasn’t ‘too slutty.’ Now, I’m not so sure about it, and I can’t decide if I wish he’d show up already, or if I’m not ready. Those thoughts are stolen away when the texts disappear on my phone, his smiling face claiming the screen with a jingle.

“Hello?” I answer with a gulp, trying to hide the anxious tremble in my voice. I can’t help it, my eyes dart to my wrist, noticing it’s already 6:05 pm.

“Hi, bug. ‘m sorry but tha traffic ‘s horrendous and ‘m afraid ‘ll be late gettin’ t’ tha restaurant. E’rybody else ‘s comin’ home from work too,” Harry explains from the other side, a weird sound taking over his voice. Yeah, we’re not too good at this pretending thing anymore, are we? I can hear the nerves in his voice, probably just like he can hear them in mine.

“Oh, it’s okay, Harry. I don’t mind at all, just be careful driving,” I respond, feeling a sense of relief at knowing where he is. I know he never would, but it squashes the tiny voice inside of me saying he wasn’t ever going to show up.

“‘Course I will, love. Thanks fer understandin’. Reckon ‘ll be there in ten. Are ya there already?” he responds, just the sound of his voice doing wonders at calming me down. The only thing that could take it all away is a hug, one of his.

“Yeah, I just sat down.”

“Mmmm, d’ya mind scopin’ out tha menu while yer there? I won’t be too long, we can order once I get there, if that’s alright,” he asks, the sound of traffic sneaking into our phone call for a second. Then, I hear him sigh ‘finally’ and the subsequent thrum of the motor.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see you soon then, careful driving.”

“I can’t wait t’ see you, Becks,” he hums before hanging up, leaving me sitting across from an empty chair that I can’t stop picturing him sitting in.

This is really happening.

Finally.

The sound of her voice rings in my ears, and does nothing to stop the anxious shakes coursing throughout my body. Curses fall under my breath as I honk at somebody who pulls out right in front of me, making me slam on my brakes. With a sigh, I turn on my indicator before making my turn.

Pulling my keys from the ignition drenches my surroundings in silence, and reminds me of my heart beating wildly within my chest. Looking up, the decorative windows of the restaurant appear before me in shrouded light. She’s somewhere in there . . waiting for me.

Get it together, Harry. You can do this.

My eyes drift to the rear view mirror and I card my fingers through my hair until it looks decent enough. That’s as good as it’s going to get, I almost mutter while smoothing down my blazer underneath my coat. The bone chilling February night nips at my face once my feet touch the tarmac. Streetlights cast glows all around me, as well as the headlights of several cars. The thumping within my chest grows louder and faster as my feet near the door, and then the stand where a manicured man waits.

“Hi. I made a reservation unda the name ‘Harry Styles’,” I tell him, immediately casting my eyes to the tables within view, searching for her dark chocolate locks.

“Right this way,” he replies, waving a hand to follow him and I do. He leads me past several tables, empty and occupied, and almost gets me lost in the process.

The last thing I feel is lost when my eyes finally find her.

“Thank you. I-I got it from here,” I tell him hurriedly, holding a hand out that brings us both to a halt. He walks away after a short ‘you’re welcome,’ leaving me there, right where I want to be.

I don’t remember the smile reaching my ears or my heart quieting within my chest as I watch her flip through the menu thirty feet away from me. The prettiest red dress dons her long body, falling just underneath her collarbones and draped over the curve of her shoulders. Her hair falls in dark, natural waves, almost hiding the round opal sitting above the scoop of scarlet fabric. A tingling sensation blankets my body from head to toe, and the image of Becks sitting there waiting for me is burned into my mind.

It feels like I’m meeting her again for the first time, but I’m not. This feels like a new first time, and I know it’s one I won’t ever forget, much like the very first time I laid my eyes upon her.

It felt like a Monday. For the bloody life of me, I couldn’t remember if it was one at the moment. Is it Monday? I’m not sure, but with the way things were going today, it sure felt like one. The copier had a jam, I forgot the first lunch I’ve made in years at home, and my girlfriend had been annoying the fuck out of me this morning. To top it all off, I had applicants being interviewed today to fill the position of my personal assistant, ever since the last one bolted. She didn’t last more than two weeks, a big surprise.

Pete had been blowing up my phone for the last ten minutes, and I finally had had enough. Without an announcement or a knock, I stride into his office, fully intent on finding out what the hell he wants.

“I’m a little busy, if you haven’t noticed,” he retorts over the head of dark chestnut locks sat in front of him. Presumably, one of the new applicants for my personal assistant. Hmm.

“Well, ya kept ringin’ me bloody phone, Pete. So, what tha hell d’ya want?” I insist, throwing up a hand that falls to my thigh with a loud slap.

Suddenly, I wish the quiet little thing would turn around, and give me a look at her. Shy, she is, it seems. There she sits, tucked away into her little shell, dressed to impress in a dark dress.

“I’m in the middle of an interview!” he exclaims, certainly making a good first impression with the applicant. It makes me wonder for the tenth time why I bother having him do the interviews, but then I remember that I don’t really give a fuck, as long as I don’t have to do them.

“What fer, huh?” I tease, instantly getting a snappy response from Pete about it being for me, as if I didn’t already know. But, I did, and am only doing this to bother him even more.

“Ooo, ‘s it now? Ya get me a good one? Huh, Pete?” I grin, taking a step forward as a hand in my pocket plays with the tiny, metal guitar attached to my key ring. Sticking my head out as I move forward, my eyes dance across her head, and her profile that soon comes into view. “Hullo, love. Gonna be me new one, are ya? Petey here says I can’t keep one fer tha life o’ me, so here he ‘s interviewin’ me anotha one. How’s she doin’ so far, Petey? Think she’s a winna?” I joke aloud, knowing full well the effect my words have on the both of them.

My subsequent introduction falls from my lips after a retort from Pete, and then the stranger finally turns to look me in the eyes. I rack my brain, trying to put a name to her face from a prior conversation with Pete. Or was it going over her resume when it came in the other day? I can’t remember which, and I blame it on her captivating baby blue eyes, as well as the intoxicating smile that greets my own. Words float from her lips and grace my ears for the very first time, and I knew immediately that she was something else.

“Hi, my name is Becky. Becky Holte.”

Little did I know how drastically she would change my life, sometimes I thought for the worse, but ultimately for the better. The better, always. I had no way of knowing at that very moment, how many times she would come to save me.

My Becks.

The sound of homemade ravioli filled with chicken and three kinds of cheese is almost making my mouth water. It also makes me wonder when Harry will finally be here, and habitually, my eyes lift to look for him. To my surprise, I find him standing a ways away with the sweetest smile stuck to his lips.

“Hiya, Becks. Sorry ‘m late. Ya look . . absolutely gorgeous, by tha way,” he comments once he’s within a few steps of the table. He reaches across to squeeze my arm before sitting down across from me, a blush pinching his cheeks.

“Thank you, Harry. I uh, like the suit you went with, you look very handsome in it. Good choice,” I return, failing to not focus on the fast thrumming deep inside of me.

“Ya, a certain sumbody said it was their favourite on me, so I couldn’t disappoint,” he grins with a shrug, unfastening the button at his waist, exposing the satiny black button-up hidden underneath.

“Good, I’m glad you didn’t,” I smile, sure of the warmth he can see filling my cheeks, because I can see it mirrored in his own. “I like that you kept the stubble.”

“Why thank you,” he comments, once again rubbing it with his thumb and forefinger, and like before, making me all the more jealous. “I trimmed it up a li’l bit, figured I betta.”

“Oh, I hope you keep it. I think I prefer you with it.”

“D’ya now, Becks?” he teases with a lift of his eyebrows, his tousled curls almost tickling his forehead, but just barely. “‘ll hafta rememba that,” he smiles, and more than ever, it’s incredibly contagious. My cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling by now, but I don’t even mind.

“The um,” I begin nervously, my eyes falling to the elegant paper menu opened in front of me. It pains me to look away from him and the sunshine emanating from his smile, but it’s not so bad when I feel his chelsea boot knock against my heel, remaining there against the back of my ankle. “Chicken ravioli sounds good, as well as the margherita pizza, and Cacio e Pepe. Lots of good choices for dessert, too.”

“Mmm, they all sound good, love. Thanks fer lookin’ fer us,” he muses aloud, head bent down to peer at the menu when I glance over to him.

His habit returns and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, and somehow, it makes my smile grow bigger. I didn’t think that was possible, but here I am with aching cheeks. I nudge his foot with mine and he looks up with a question on his face, soon relaxing into a sparkling smile. That effervescent look in his eyes from the other day returns, and if I hadn’t known it already, I truly could look into his eyes for the rest of eternity. The dimples haven’t left his cheeks since he arrived, and his raspberry lips beg at me from across the table.

“Let’s give it a try then,” he remarks, closing his menu without breaking our eye contact. The words dipped in honey flow from his lips and tickle something inside me, and I want more than anything to hear another meaning in them. His foot nudging at mine in return only makes me give in to it, and so does his wink.

Our server arrives at our table shortly, and I thank God for the champagne she pours into tall flutes, not taking the edge off fast enough. A conversation blossoms between us about his case, and then mine with Myles.

“Ya did great by tha way. Congrats on tha win, Becks, ‘m so fookin’ proud o’ you,” Harry grins adamantly, sweetness pouring off of his words that come out with a shake of his head.

“Thank you so much, Harry. Wait, how’d you know we won it? I was just going to tell you,” I ask with furrowed brows, and receive a measly shrug of his shoulders in return. The look on his face, as if a revelation is threatening to burst from his lips, teases at me until it abates when the server brings us waters and we order.

“So so bloody proud o’ you t’day, Becks,” he whispers as she pulls out her notepad and a pen. Possibilities blossom within my mind after he sends me a coy wink and knocks his foot against mine again. It doesn’t leave my own throughout the rest of our time there, during our meal and the laughs we share over glasses of champagne, and a plate of Tiramisu that I somehow let him share with me.

“I knew it! You were there today, sitting in the gallery, weren’t you?!” I exclaim, mumbling a short ‘thank you’ when he opens the car door for me.

“Maybe,” Harry shrugs casually, walking around the front of the car as I fall onto the leather seat.

“Harry Styles!” I nearly shout, if it weren’t for my voice dissolving into a giggle as he slides behind the steering wheel next to me.

“What? I had some stuff t’ do at tha courts, so I may have popped in fer a mo’,” he explains.

“Sure,” is all I say as I pull the seat belt across my chest.

“Hush, and play some music, bug. Here,” he insists, handing me his grey iPhone that looks normal sized in his hand, and then gigantic in mine.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to watch?”

“Coz o’ that right there, Becks. Yer nervous ‘bout it right now afta tha fact, imagine how ya woulda been if ‘d told ya I was comin’ befo’ yer argument t’day,” he returns, pressing buttons on the dash and soon, waves of hot air greet my cold body.

“I guess you’re right.”

“‘m what? I didn’t catch that,” Harry jests, cupping his ear. A scoff flies from my lips and I playfully swat his shoulder. “Hey, watch it. ‘m drivin’.”

“You haven’t even switched gears, so shut up,” I laugh, catching the eye roll he thinks I don’t see. “I see that eye roll, Styles, you better watch it.”

“You betta watch it, Becks. Betta pick a good Spice Girls song too, ‘m payin’ attention,” he jokes, soon his fingers diving into my side. A laugh escapes me unwillingly, and yanks my eyes over to his giggling lips.

His name leaves mine in a near shriek, and after a blink, his tickling fingers are gone and lacing between mine. The dark flecks in his sage green eyes catch under the overhead light before it turns off automatically. He gives my hand a good squeeze as his eyes melt into mine, and a zing of electricity runs up my fingers and then my arm. The smile falling into his cheeks mirrors the one that’s been glued to my lips all night, and now grows higher and higher. I return the squeeze just as he looks to his mirrors, the click of the doors locking when he shifts to Reverse.

It almost hurts to look away, but so many other feelings and thoughts are occupying me as my eyes fall to his phone. Disbelief washes over me as his long, ringed fingers sit between mine. It only grows when he lifts our intertwined hands up and over the middle console, to sit on his warm thigh.

An uninvited wave of pain hits me when I spot familiar sad songs amongst his music library, like the familiar ‘When She Loved Me’ that could make any Toy Story fan weep within seconds of hearing it. It intensifies when my eyes run over the songs Before You Go, Wish You Were Here, Say You Won’t Let Go, and With or Without You. Chancing a glance over at him, he stares straight ahead into the dark night, and a bittersweetness greets me. I try not to let it in, and the realization that perhaps those lost seven months were hell for him too, as were those five days apart.

“Find it? I have Spice World on there sumwhere. I know I have loads o’ shit on there, sorry,” he comments, turning his head to check his left before pulling onto the busy road.

“Y-Yeah,” I stutter, looking back to his expansive music library spanning from the 50’s to current music. His thumb drawing circles onto my knuckles brushes some of the sadness away as I bring up the album he speaks of.

“Bloody hell, why ya choosin’ tha sad one, Becks?” he titters, glancing over to me when we come to a stop at a light. His smile shining back at me whisks away the last drops of the sadness, but hints of it remain with me, begging to be felt. I shrug my shoulders as the beginning lyrics of ‘Too Much’ fills the car, and I only turn it up louder. “I get t’ pick tha next song, if yer playin’ sad stuff. Bloody rubbish you are at pickin’ songs,” he sighs jokingly with a shake of his head, curls tickling his ears and the nape of his neck.

“I am not!”

“‘Kay, brat, keep talkin’,” he snickers, earning another scoff from me that he answers with a harder laugh. I cast my eyes to the window with an exaggerated whimper, soon hearing his profuse apologies. “‘m kiddin’, Becks, bloody hell. I already know ya have a good taste in music from all o’ our talks. I like this song too, jus’ thought ya’d go fer some happy songs, seein’ tha . . occasion and e’rythin’. Hey.”

I answer him with my eyes returning to him, finding his wink before he looks back to traffic, and with my thumb coasting back and forth across his smooth skin. I listen to the lyrics, feeling another squeeze of my hand from him before I change the song.

“Hey, don’t change it befo’ ‘s done!” he exclaims, and I just laugh, watching his shocked lips soon do the same.

“Then stop complaining,” I argue, catching another roll of his eyes as the car slows to a stop in front of another light. Joy buds on my lips as the surprise unfolds on his features, meanwhile his eyes crinkle, the dimples fall deeper, and his raspberry lips thin out as a smile consumes his face.

“I knew ya were sumthin’ special,” he notes aloud with a shake of his head, a giggle emanating from his joyous smile, right before he joins me to sing along to Shania Twain’s ‘Man, I Feel Like A Woman.’

His fingers laced between mine continue to send my heart into overdrive as we belt out the song between contagious laughs, and then another crowd favourite, ‘You’re Still The One.’ This one gets me and sometimes throughout the song, I can’t get myself to look at him with the sincerity held in the lyrics. As well as the words that hit too close to home.

Finally, I can’t stand it anymore, and my eyes drift over to his at the end of the song, finding that his are already on mine. “‘m so glad we made it. Look how far we’ve come, my baby,” Harry finishes with his eyes dancing upon me with that smile dripping with molasses. As if his hand squeezing mine periodically throughout the song wasn’t already making me want to cry, now I really could. I return the gesture before looking out the window, blinking back the arriving tears from my eyes as those lasting words sing inside of my head.

Yeah, we finally made it, Harry. Belatedly, but finally.

“‘s been years since ‘ve been here, hasn’t changed much tho’,” Harry remarks softly, only a few steps away from my door.

“Yeah, the inside looks bout the same too.”

“‘m sure. Maybe I could see fer meself one o’ these days,” he remarks aloud, and when my eyes drag over to his nervously, I answer him with a nod.

“I’d like that.”

“Me too,” he coos, rubbing the pad of his thumb along the back of my hand. A shy smile nudges at the edge of my lips as he stands in front of me, my right hand still safe within his. “Well, I had a wondaful time t’night, thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, and thank you too. I had a lot of fun . . with you.”

“So did I, bug. ‘ll um, text you later then?” Harry says, clearing his throat awkwardly, his bottom lip soon returning to its nervous spot.

“Y-yeah, sounds good,” I mumble quietly, eyes falling to my hand that he drops. The absence of his warmth against mine feels very strange now, having been holding hands for the entire drive and subsequent walk up to my apartment.

“Night, Becks.”

“Goodnight, Harry, careful driving,” is the last thing I say before slipping behind my door, finding Skye perched on the sofa. The monotonous, forced words echo in my ears and my eyes fall to the floor, disappointment flooding every inch of me.

“So, how’d it go?! Did you finally fucking kiss him?!” she shouts the second the door meets its frame.

“No,” I admit between shy lips, the steps I take seeming as if they’re from somebody else’s body, not mine. The entire last five minutes feels like somebody else had lived them, not me. No, it can’t end like that. “Not yet, anyways,” I rush, ignoring my shoes I already toed off, spinning around and ripping open the door. “Harry, wait!” I exclaim, finding his surprised expression waiting in front of the lift.

“What?” he asks, eyebrows bent into a questioning mess.

“I-I forgot something,” I manage, the words spilling out in a heap while he closes the distance between us, stopping right in front of me. Right where I need him.

“Forgot what, bug? Did ya forget yer shoes in me car?” he titters, the fluorescent glow overhead picking out the few blonde hairs in his stubble.

“No . . something else,” I finally admit, taking a step when there aren’t any left.

The dimples remain set into his cheeks while his eyes fall to my lips and mine raise to his. His facial hair is prickly and dense under the pad of my thumb, and his coveted bottom lip is warm and pillowy. The golden hue of his olive green irises fills my mind when my lips finally meet his, and at last, I find his bottom lip between my own. His sweet giggle sounds against my lips as my fingers get lost in his buttery curls. I come to echo it when his hands shock me with their coldness against my hips, pulling me closer to him. One strays to the back of my head as his lips move against mine, the word ‘finally’ repeating incessantly within my mind. His barely there beard is scratchy against my skin, contrasting to the smooth tip of his nose grazing my cheek. The cinnamon and cocoa powder from the Tiramisu cake tickles my taste buds while his spicy vanilla smell covers me like a blanket. Zings shoot across my palm pressed to his smiling cheek, his facial hair prickly against the sensitive skin.

Not feeling like what was actually mere seconds later, air fills my lungs when we pull away at the same time, sharp inhales filling the air. Quickly, his sweet giggle joins it, and ropes one of my own in. The tip of his nose leaves trails on my cheek as his forehead falls onto mine.

“Ya have no idea how long ‘ve waited fer that,” Harry rasps, his warm breath dancing across my lips. His own press a whisper of a kiss to mine briefly, although after that, now I’m sure it could never be long enough.

“I think I do know,” I mumble, my hand straying to his chin where I brush the tip of my thumb against the flesh of his bottom lip.

“‘m sorry it took us so long, bug.”

“It’s okay, we’re here now. Finally,” I tell him and he nods, the twinkle in his eye bright as can be. For the first time, I let myself melt and lose myself in the greens of his eyes. Something I have wanted to do ever since the very first time I looked into his green eyes and knew I was fucked.

“Yes, we are. And look at you, Becks. Ya beat me t' tha first date and tha first kiss,” he smirks with a decadent laugh adorning his words. I can’t help but join him while I twirl a ringlet of his hair around the tip of my finger against the back of his neck.

“Oh, it’s okay, Harry. You got the first hand hold, and the first Shania Twain car duet.”

A roll of his miraculous eyes accompanies his continuing laugh, “Ya, well, so did you, but I got tha more romantic one,” he insists, words welcomed by my surprised scoff.

“Wait, you don’t find ‘Man, I Feel Like A Woman’ romantic?!” I nearly exclaim in faux disbelief, my voice softening into a giggle quickly.

“Only when you sing it, bug,” Harry smiles, thumbing circles into the small of my back.

“Wait, you got tha first handhold, brat. Rememba, when I visited you at yer old work that day? Bloody hell, you beat me t’ all tha good ones, Becks. No fair,” he snickers with a sigh to his words, the two contrasting the other. I suffice my response with an obligatory nod, feeling my heart just now starting to settle into a regular beat. “Becks, there’s so many things ‘ve wanted t’ say t’ you, and now, I finally can.”

“I think I know how you feel.”

“First thing ‘ll say ‘s I get tha second date and tha second kiss,” Harry contends with a smirk held in his eyes.

“Oh, really?” I giggle and he soon nods. He quiets the laugh beginning on my lips with his own giddy ones, my lips molding against his effortlessly. Thoughts blossom quickly within my mind, including why I waited so fucking long to kiss him. If I’d known all of these years how wonderful it feels to kiss him, I never would have waited this long. Our kisses are slow although hurried, our lips searching for the other’s desperately, and somehow perfectly. Years overdue, and it couldn’t feel any more perfect.

“Fookin’ hell, I jus’ wanna keep kissin’ you, Becks. Dunno if I can stop,” he chuckles, brushing his nose against mine softly. Shockingly, his eyes are even more gorgeous from this view, and I didn’t think that was possible. Evidently, anything is.

“You don’t have to,” I laugh and he shrugs his shoulders while his eyebrows mimic the expression, his giggle soon vibrating against my tingling lips.

“We have loads o’ lost time t’ make up fer,” he notes aloud.

“Yes, we do. A couple years, give or take.”

“Mmmhmm, yer right there, li’l one. Fook, there were so many times I wanted t’ kiss ya ova the years,” he sighs with a sad shake of his head. His dimple is soft under my fingertip, hidden under the warm brunette facial hair.

“Then kiss me.”

Too soon, his lips leave mine after a short peck, but I press at the back of his curls and envelope his laugh with my lips. My name falls from him in a delighted whisper before one more kiss. Our laughs grow louder only to be muffled, although weakly, when a figure walks by into their nearby apartment. My face runs to the crook of his neck, my very favorite song dancing along my ears as he holds me against him.

“Nothing to see here, sir,” I joke, and the warmth filling my insides grows at the sound of his happiness.

“No, I rememba I got tha first handhold that night we went out fer drinks tha first time. Tha night with tha Purple Hazes and all those shots,” Harry insists from above me, and I give him the funniest look when I come out of hiding.

“You’re still going on about that?” I ask in near disbelief, watching his curls move when he nods his head, dipping to meet my lips with his for a slow kiss.

“I don’t want this night to end,” I hum against the strawberry color of his decadent mouth.

“Neither do I, Becks. ‘ve been waitin’ fer it fer so long,” he agrees, the wispiness of his eyelashes ghostlike against my forehead.

“It’s getting late, and Skye is probably dying to hear how tonight went.”

“Ya betta go and tell tha poor girl then,” he responds, pulling my eyes towards his that sit just a moment away, sending all of the sunshine in my direction.

“That’s okay?”

“‘Course. I may or may not ring Myles on tha way home t’ tell him all ‘bout it,” he shrugs with a telling lilt to his sing-song voice. The only sound that leaves my lips is an amused laugh that he echoes, and I know that he feels the same way.

At last, I know after over two years that he feels the same way, through and through.

“We’ll figure out sumthin’ fer this weekend t’getha, sound good?”

“Yeah, sounds great, Harry,” I agree slowly and he nods ever so slightly, leaving kisses starting from my temple and down my cheek.

“G’night, bug.”

“Night, Harry. Drive careful,” I tell him and once again, he answers me with a nod.

“I promise, babe.”

“Goodnight,” I almost whisper, the very last breath of the word stolen away by his lips. I wouldn’t want it any other way, I barely am able to think as his lips massage mine between his. His neck is fiery beneath my palms and I’m sure mine is likened to it underneath his fingertips, surges of electricity passing below my skin. The skin is balmy against my blushing cheek when my arms come around his middle, surprising us both with a long hug, before I pull away first.

“Night, my Becks,” he murmurs against my lips, a shiver running down my spine when he leaves with a final squeeze to my hand. If that didn’t do it, the song flowing from his humming lips sparks memories behind my eyes, but I still can’t figure out where it’s from. But, I know that I have plenty of time to figure it out, and to get all of the kisses that I want from him.

Fucking finally.

21 notes · View notes

allegra-writes · 5 years

Text

Peter Parker cute Alphabet:

Hi! Could I please please please get a cute and a NSFW alphabet with Peter? Thanks! 💕

Ok, I actually had to do a little research for this one, I haven’t seen one in so long that I couldn’t remember exactly how they worked. (Update, I want to thank @padfootagain because this genius prompts come from her amazing mind, like, seriously THANK YOU 💓)And I never wrote smut before so you’ll probably gonna have to give me some time to do the NSFW one. Anyway, here’s our Cute Alphabet with the cutest Avenger:

Affection: What are those little things they do to show you that they love you?

He never let’s you forget that he loves you. He’s so excited that you are his girlfriend that he’s the most caring boyfriend in the planet, always holding your hand, always kissing your cheeks or your hands, always texting you random facts and memes he thinks you’ll find interesting or funny. He’s always making sure you’re safe too, and has the most care with his secret identity because now he has too much to loose if an enemy finds out who he really is. He simply can’t afford someone tracing you back to him and endangering you. Especially after what Mysterio did. Luckily everyone wrote it off as fake news but he takes extra measures now anyway.

Birthday: What do they do to celebrate your birthday? What is the thing you need to do to make them happy on their birthday? Are they good at giving gifts?

He’s the very first to wish you a happy birthday, knocking on your bedroom window shortly after midnight, rainbow cupcake with a single candle on his hands. He also gives you a very personal, special gift, like that hard to get book he knows you been looking everywhere for, or a very rare pigment for your art, or an original vintage Polaroid camera. He shows he truly knows you and listens to you with his gifts, he’s not one for generic gifts like perfume or jewelry (thought he did gave you a letter P pendant one Christmas that he got on Etsy, and you wear it all the time).

To make him happy on his birthday you don’t really have to do a lot, but you do anyway. You call Pepper Stark to let her know it’s Peter’s birthday and the both of you organize the best surprise party ever, with all of the remaining Avengers and of course his new “siblings” Harley and Morgan. Even Nebula shows up, because she wants to get to know the kid Tony Stark told her so much about when they were stranded on that ship (she actually thinks Peter is Tony’s biological son and Pepper doesn’t seem inclined on correcting that assumption any time soon)

Cuddles: Do they like to cuddle? Big spoon? Little spoon?

He loves to cuddle, he absolutely loves it. Whether it be while watching a movie on his couch, or lying together in your bed, he loves to wrap his arms around you. He likes to toy with the idea to keep you there forever, safe in his arms, away from the world and all its dangers.

Dating: What are they like on their first date? And those after that?

The first date was a terrible. It was a complete disaster. He had tried so hard to impress you: He had borrowed money and made reservation at some trendy french restaurant, picked you up in one of the cars Tony Stark had left him and showed up in a tux. Not that he looked bad in that tux, but you were definitely underdressed in your sundress and leather jacket. None of you even knew what any item in the menu was, and things were painfully akward.

In the end you both had ditch the restaurant and gone to a vintage Arcade to play 80’s videogames and eat burgers.

From that day on, he relaxed and you guys only go on dates that you really enjoy: Picnics at the park, stargazing trips, visits to the planetarium, and you even have plans for the San Diego Comic-Con next year.

Evolution: How fast does your relationship evolves? Weeks, months, years?

You are both young and, let’s face it, a little reckless, so things get very intense very fast. But there’s no going back now, he wants you in his life forever, you both are all in.

Flirting: Do they flirt a lot?

He’s not the smoothest of flirts but he doesn’t need to, he already owns your heart. And to be honest, you love the way you can still get him all flustered when you send a flirtatious smile and a wink his way.

Generosity: When they’re with you, is it about you or about them?

You are his princess, his Queen, his love, his everything. He is absolutely amazed by the fact that you love him back, he can’t believe his luck, can’t believe you’re his. So of course it’s all about you: He loves opening doors for you, carrying things for you, wrapping you up in his jacket when you’re cold… And when you both are alone, well, everything is still about you. More than ever.

Honey: Do they use pet names? What’s their favourite for you and for themselves?

He mostly calls you babe, sometimes princess, but he secretly loves when someone at the Avengers Tower calls you “Spider-girl” the most.

Isolation: How do they react when they are away from you?

He loathes it. Absolutely hates it. He misses you like crazy when he’s away in missions or when you are and he’s not with you. He hates not knowing if you’re safe, he hates not being able to hear your voice.

But the angst of the separation makes the reunion all the sweetest. To finally have you in his arms feels like coming home, like being where he really belongs.

Jealousy: Are they jealous? How do they react if you are jealous?

He tries not to be, but sometimes he can’t help it. It was worse when you weren’t together, because he knew you had a bit of a crush on Dr. Strange, and it used to kill him. He still doesn’t really likes when he is around. That’s actually how he told you that he liked you: He had gotten so mad with jealousy that you guys had fought. Badly. Things had gotten out of control and he ended up confessing his feelings for you in the middle of a yelling match.

You hate it but he actually loves when you get jealous, you looked hot as hell when you get mad and he loves that fire within you. Loves that he is the reason it ignites and burns.

Kisses: Lots of them? Peppering ones? Languid ones?… What about your first kiss?

He’s always peppering you with kisses, but he always asks for permission before deepening them. Sometimes vocally, asking you if he can kiss you, and sometimes in more subtle ways, nibbling or licking on your bottom lip. You love that about him, the way he never takes you for granted, not even in the smallest of ways.

Light up: What do they do to make you feel better after a rough day? How can you lighten their mood?

There’s nothing Peter Parker wouldn’t do for you. And if that means doing back flips, or some silly dance or even singing something to put a smile on your face after a long day, so be it.

You don’t really have to do a lot to make him smile, just giving him a hug, a kiss or simply being you usually makes things a lot better

Nurse: How do they take care of you when you’re sick? How do they behave when they are sick?

If you have a cold, he shows up at your door with soup, if you have a sore throat, he gets you ice cream. And if you are on your period, he gets you obscene amounts of chocolate, heating pads, Aleve or anything you need. He was raised by May, after all, so he doesn’t get spooked or grossed out by periods.

He doesn’t really get sick himself, thanks to his special metabolism. But he does get hurt sometimes. Or his senses get overload. At those times he holds you tight and buries his face in your chest cause your smell soothes him, the feeling of you in his arms grounds him to something solid and real, and the sound of your heart beating helps him focus and drown out the pandemonium of noise of such a big city like New York.

Objects: Are there any object, song, place that have a particular meaning for them or for the two of you as a couple?

Sometimes the weight of the world, of being the next Tony Stark, of being an Avenger gets to be a little too much. He gets so insecure, so full of doubt and self deprecation…

On those such times you sing to him, often to sleep. And it’s always the same tune: “Something just like this” by Coldplay. Not because you don’t think him worthy of being a hero or anything like that, but to remind him that you didn’t fall in love with Spider-Man or the next Tony Stark, but with Peter Parker, and that’s all you need him to be. In time, that becomes your song.

Partners: Are they looking for flings, one-night stands, partners to be with until their last breath? What makes them fall for you?

He wasn’t expecting to fall for you. He wasn’t expecting to fall for anyone, really. Things with MJ had just fallen apart because of what Quentin Beck tried to do to him, and he couldn’t endanger her. And to be honest, he was still mourning Tony. In conclusion, he was in a very dark place and wasn’t really thinking about girls. Like, at all. But one day, you showed up. A pretty girl in a pretty dress, but with combat boots on your feet. Fitting for a walking contradiction like you, so kind but with a smart mouth on you, to use effortlessly on the people that annoyed you. You countered all of his quick remarks readily with one of your own. So out of his league, but somehow you had like him back.

No, he definitely wasn’t looking for somebody. But now he’s got you, and he’s never letting you go. He’s going to marry you one day, he knows that in his bones.

Quarrels: How is it to have a fight with them? What do they do to make you forgive them? What do you need to do to make them forgive you?

It’s not often that you fight, which makes it all the worse when it happens. Usually it has something to do with his whole self-sacrificing-brooding-hero-“you’d-be-safer-without-me” thing. The first time you didn’t understand what was going on so you had let him leave you, without putting up a fight, cause you had thought he simply didn’t love you anymore. That one didn’t last because when you tracked his suit (your very own messed up version of social media stalking), you realized he had been following you around to make sure you were safe. You realized then two things: First, he still loved you and second, you both needed to learn a thing or two about healthy boundaries.

Ever since then, every time he tried to pull something like that again, you weren’t afraid to call him out on his BS, even if you could never really stay mad at him. Not when he looks at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes. And if those eyes happen to be red rimmed, you are done for.

But who could blame you? You are only human after all. And even while he does have super powers, you know your tears are his kryptonite.

Rings: How do they propose? The wedding? The honeymoon?

The first time the thought hits him, it leaves him breathless. You guys were just lying on his couch, watching some silly Syfy channel movie about sharks on space, when he looked up at you from his position with his head resting on your lap. You looked so beautiful in the blue light from the TV, so domestic dressed up in one of his old hoodies, and the two little words came to his mind, unbridled: “Marry me”.

The next few weeks, it just won’t leave him alone. At random moments, having lunch or studying together, walking down the street or making love, it would just play on repeat inside his head, like a prayer: “Marry me. Marry me. Marry me”, and it would take all of his will power to not blurt the words out loud.

He knows May would just freak out so he goes to Pepper, who instead of lecturing him about being too young to get married like he expected, smiles, takes off her own engagement ring and places it on his hand, telling him, “Tony had this ring for years before giving it to me. Don’t make the same mistake”. She helps him plan the perfect proposal, that of course goes to hell when the green goblin attacks the city and almost gets the better of him. Luckily you were able to sneak up on the bastard from behind and managed to knock him unconscious with a Shield issued taser.

You were so brave, so perfect, this time he can’t contain himself.

“Marry me”

You blinked, “I might have to asked my boyfriend what he has to say about that”

“Don’t. Let’s run away together tonight.” He pulled the bottom half of his mask up and then pulled you into a kiss that had the little crowd of onlookers watching the fight cheering and whistling.

And that’s the story of how you and Peter eloped to Las Vegas.

Secrets: Do they keep secrets from you and how do they react when they learn that you’ve been hiding something from them?

Well, the begining of your relationship wasn’t exactly… Forthright.

Of course he hadn’t told you he was Spider-Man, even if he was shit at keeping it secret, always disappearing, always hanging out with Pepper Stark and Happy Hogan, always getting so jumpy anytime you mentioned Spider-Man. Between that and the new bruises you found almost every night littering his body - That were gone the next morning- it wasn’t really that hard to make the connection.

You hadn’t even need to confront him about it, you just had kissed him and bid him goodbye with a “Go get them, Spider-Man” the next time he had tried to use some half baked excuse to stood you up in the middle of a movie date at your place.

“Wha- that’s not… I’m not- I’m not Spider-Man!” He had tried to scoff dismissively, what of course was completely ruined by him tripping out of your second floor window and landing on the sidewalk without a scratch.

So yeah, he wouldn’t really hold it against you if you were to keep something from him, besides, he trusts you anyway.

Tease: Do they like to tease you? How much humour is there in your relationship?

There is a lot of fun and laughs in your relationship, but he’s not much of a tease, if anything, you are the teaser of the two. However, you need to be careful because he is after all the sassiest avenger and his quick wit can outmatch your own if the need arises.

Voicing: How hard is it for them to talk about their feelings? How do they tell you that they love you for the first time?

He’s not exactly a closed off person, but he’s not the best communicator either. The things that are really important, that really affect him or make him vulnerable, he often bottles up until they get to be too much and and then get blurted out.

That’s how he told you that he loved you for the first time: He had gotten jealous, and though he didn’t mean to, he ended up making a scene. And if there is one thing that you hate with a passion, that’s jealous and controlling people. So, of course you had fought back. The discussion quickly got out of control and he ended up yelling “Because I’m in love with you, that’s why!” at you in the middle of the fight.

U-turns: What can transform your relationship in a good or bad way (what makes them confess their feelings or scares them off)?

That’s it basically: Strong emotions. Strong jealousy had cause him to confess his feelings and strong fear for your safety was the thing that almost drove him away from you. He was always very emotional when making decisions, and that’s probably the reason why they often blow up on his face.

Luckily you are a little more logical, a little more cool headed to balance his more impassionate personality. Waking up: What is it like to wake up by their side? He usually wakes up first, so normally you are arisen by strong arms tightening around you, soft, reverent caresses on your naked back or arms, or sweet nothings whispered at your hair when he thinks you’re still deeply asleep. Once your eyes flutter open, he would always try to convince you to stay in bed just a little longer. He likes to pretend that there’s no world outside your bed, only you and him. If he could, he would keep you forever there, safe in his arms Yielding: What do you have to do to convince them to do what you want? You are his weakness and you know it. It took you a while, but by now you are perfectly aware that he would do whatever you ask of him. You have him wrapped around your little finger. Zoo: Could they have a pet with you? What kind of pet? Peter Parker might be the only person in the world who is actually a bigger softy than you. Once, your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man busted a pit-bull fighting ring, and after beating every human involved pretty nastily (could anyone really blame him?) He called the dog rescue, to help the poor, terrified, abused animals. The worst part were the puppies these monsters seemed to be already training for battle. He tried to remain strong, he really did, but there was this one puppy, smaller than the others, not aggressive in the slightest, cowering behind the crates. He was tiny, but already covered in scars, because, apparently he was the dog they used so the others would… practice. Very slowly, he was able to approach and grab him, but whenever someone from the rescue tried to take him, it would start crying again, looking at Peter with the saddest eyes. Eyes that were the same color as yours. It simply broke his heart. He couldn’t possibly part with it. So he didn’t. The next morning, you woke up to a still exhausted boyfriend for the first time ever not cuddling up to you, but to the smallest, cutest dog you had ever seen. That morning, you fell in love with Peter all over again, and with your new puppy for the very first time. You named him “Spidey”, in honor of the outstanding man who had saved his life.

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