#and the way brenda responded.... just so fucking perfect.

[tradedsymmetry]

RE: "HAVE ANOTHER THING/THINK COMING," FROM MERRIAM WEBSTER: "Both expressions are used to tell a person that they're wrong and should consider changing their mind." (LINKS TO MORE INFO ABOUT IT IF YOU'RE CURIOUS!)

ALSO TO HELP WITH BREATHE VS BREATH:

"BREATHE" WHEN SAID OUT LOUD IS THE ONE THAT HAS THE EEEEEE SOUND IN THE MIDDLE, AND YOU CAN REMEMBER WHICH IS WHICH BECAUSE "BREATHE" HAS THE EXTRA E.

"BREATH" ENDS WITH THE "TH" SOUND YOU'RE MORE FAMILIAR WITH AND RHYMES WITH DEATH.

IT’S NOT ‘PEEKED’ MY INTEREST

OR ‘PEAKED’

BUT PIQUED

‘PIQUED MY INTEREST’

THIS HAS BEEN A CAPSLOCK PSA

[steddieasitgoes]

Written for @eddiemonth Day 11 Prompt: Pirate read on ao3 | link to my ao3 Eddie Month series

There are a lot of challenges that come with being a parent: dealing with tantrums, having to be responsible, cooking all the time, making friends with other parents (thank God Steve’s a people person because Eddie would rather stab himself in the eye with a fork than listen to Brenda brag about her kids — Newsflash Brenda, all our kids shit in the toilet, it’s not an accomplishment!) Fortunately, Eddie’s conquered them all, mostly. What he hasn’t conquered, though, is the biggest parenting challenge of all: saying no to their little girl.

But, like, can anyone even blame him? How is he supposed to look at Rosie with her big, brown eyes behind her purple round glasses and her lush, springy curls and tell her no? He’s not, that’s how. It’s even worse now that she’s learned how to wobble her lower lip and bat her eyelashes (Dustin and Erica are on babysitting probation for that one.)

It’s a move she’s already perfected and has been pulling all day to keep Eddie from doing any of his actual parenting duties while Steve’s held up at school in a marathon of parent-teacher conferences. But it’s fine. Better than fine if he’s straight with himself. There’s nothing Eddie loves more than some quality make-believe time with his daughter. Brings him right back to his Hellfire days. And once Eddie commits to a story, he’s in it until they reach the end (or until Rosie gets bored — whichever comes first).

He takes world-building just as seriously, which is why their living room has been transformed into a pirate ship. The long couch stands in as the main dock. An assortment of cardboard boxes from their latest Costco run stacked in a chaotic way on the front and the end, making up the stern and bow. A once-white pillowcase is now stained with purple marker — a Rosie original drawn in the middle — and hanging from the broom shoved into the couch cushions. (Steve’s not going to be happy about that one, but he’ll level with him later.)

Rosie is dressed in her favorite pirate costume. One of Steve’s button-up shirts and her favorite black leggings. Her feet (and most of her legs) are shoved into a pair of Eddie’s old black boots and the left lens in her glasses is covered in black duct tape (fuck, he hopes it doesn’t scratch them). The store-bought pirate hat disappeared weeks ago so in its place is one of Eddie’s old bandanas. Thankfully, the store-bought sword they bought her last year hasn’t gone missing (he’s pretty sure his streak of saying yes would have to end if she demanded access to the kitchen knives). Oh, yeah, and she’s refusing to answer to her name — responding to Eddie only when he refers to her as Cap’n Skittle.

“It’s time you walk the plank, traitor!” she shouts, hoisting a well-loved Garfield stuffed animal over her head. Hopping on the couch cushions, she glances at Eddie over her shoulder. “One-arm Gravy, prepare the plank.”

“Ay, Ay, captain,” Eddie says, saluting with the hand that isn’t pulled through the sleeve of his shirt and resting on his stomach. Rosie really made him commit to the whole one-arm thing, and he’s not about to suppress her creative whims.

With a careful step into the middle of the couch, Eddie reaches for one of their custom decorative pillows. It takes a few tries, but eventually, he manages to get one end of the throw pillow balanced on the edge of the couch while the rest hangs off.

“The plank is ready, Cap’n Skittle.”

“Time to meet your end, Garfield!”

Without a moment of hesitation, Rosie chucks the Garfield stuffed animal off of the couch, sending it flying across the room and into the bookshelf against the other wall. Thankfully, nothing breaks or falls over. Explaining to Steve why Rosie isn’t in bed yet is easy. Explaining how his mint condition replica of the Beamer broke, not so much.

“See you never traitor,” she cackles, far more sinister than a six-year-old should sound.

On second thought, maybe suppressing her creative whims is a good idea, Eddie thinks for a moment before shaking his head. Nah, Wayne let me do whatever I wanted, and I turned out fine.

“It’s time to celebrate!” She gathers the rest of the stuffed animal-turned-crew mates as she skips her way back to Eddie. Hoisting and swaying her sword high up in the sky in celebration.

“Not so fast,” Eddie says, shoving his arm back through the sleeve of his shirt. He peels off the paper mustache Rosie demanded he wear and yanks out a sword he’s been hiding in the waistband of his pajama pants.

Rosie screams, lowering her own sword in preparation for a duel. “Not Cap’n No Moosetach! I killed you.”

“You tried to be a hero Cap’n Skittle, but you failed to remember the most important thing about being a pirate captain,” Eddie says, voice an octave lower than usual. He takes a tentative step forward on the couch and then another and another until Rosie’s trapped between him and the armrest. He holds his sword up to her chin, not touching, but close enough for her eyes to go a little crossed as she stares at it. “We never die before we get our treasure.”

Eddie swings his sword, but Rosie’s quick, swinging hers back at him. It’s the beginning of an epic sword battle that has both of them doing the most. Rosie leaps at him, wrapping her arms and legs around his middle until they’re both toppling over onto the couch. She quickly gets to her feet, shoving her sword in Eddie’s face for a moment before he rolls off the couch and into the “waters” below.

“You’ll never get the da’blooms,” she shouts. Glancing over her shoulder at the hoard of stuffed animals on the couch, she shouts, “Man the cannons!”

Eddie barely has time to shield his head before she’s throwing pillow after pillow at him. Shouting orders left and right to her “crew mates.” Hoisting himself up, Eddie gets back on the couch and engages in another battle with Rosie. Swords clinking against each other as Eddie hums a made-up soundtrack for their battles. He gets lost in the humming and has no time to defend himself when Rosie jabs her bony elbow into his ribs.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he groans, massaging over the spot. “That hurt Rosie.”

“Who is this Rosie you speak of?” she growls, threatening him with her sword. “I don’t know any Rosies!”

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek to keep from snorting. She may not biologically be his daughter, but oh man, does she make up for it in her quirks and personalities. After all, no one commits to a fantasy role more than a Munson.

The battle continues with both of them taking turns being the winners and losers until the front door knob starts to jingle.

“Avast Ye,” Eddie says, pulling Rosie in close. “A landlubber approaches.”

“Aye,” Rosie nods. “We can take him together.”

“A truce, you say? Only if you give me half of your Doubloons.”

“I’ll give you three.”

This time, Eddie does snort, earning a fierce glare from Rosie before the front door opens. Steve steps in, looking more exhausted than ever before. His lucky striped tie is pulled loose, his blazer slung casually over his shoulder.

“Aye, it’s the wealthy merchant Sir Steven of Stevensburg.”

Despite the pure exhaustion on his face and in his bones, Steve cocks his head to the side and arches his brow. “Sir Steve of Stevensburg? That’s the best you can come up with?” He toes off his work loafers and pads his sock-covered feet further into the mess of the living room.

“Hey,” Eddie whines, voice returning to normal. “Cut me some slack; we’ve been at this for hours.”

“Shush you landlubber!” Rosie says, leaping off the couch and into Steve’s arm. “If you want our Da’blooms, you have to fight me and Cap’n No Moosetach.”

“Da’blooms? I don’t need your da’blooms.”

“Then why are you braving these here seas, Sir Steven?” Eddie asks as he steps down from the couch, eager to get his hands on his clearly exhausted boyfriend.

“Well, I am a Prince in search of a fair maiden. A princess, actually,” he says, nuzzling his face into Rosie’s neck. She squeals in delight before squirming out of his arms and dropping to the floor. “Do you know of any princesses around here?” Steve cups his hands over his eyes, turning them into binoculars, as he glances around the room.

“Me! Me!” Rosie shouts, jumping up and down. “M’a princess! The prettiest princess in all the land.”

Steve crouches down to Rosie’s height. Hands on his hips and tired eyes squinted in a focused manner as he studies her pirate costume. “Hmm, I don’t know,” he puzzles, dramatically tapping his chin.

Eddie watches Steve take on the role of a Prince. When Rosie first started getting into make-believe, Steve struggled with the “yes and-ing” that comes with improvised play. It took a while for him to come out of his shell and allow himself to actually be goofy. If Eddie ever gets his hangs on the Harringtons he swears he’s going to ring their neck for stifling Steve’s creativity. Because dammit, his Steve is creative! Weaving epic adventure stories like it is second nature. Sometimes even better than Eddie can.

Eddie absolutely adores it when Steve gets like this. When the pressures of being an adult fade away all that matters is the story and Rosie’s imagination. It totally works for him too.

“You look like a pirate to me,” Steve says, finally, before standing up to his full height as he looks down on Rosie.

“Cap’n Skittle, to be exact,” Eddie says, saddling up next to Rosie with his sword outstretched in Steve’s direction. “The most vicious pirate to ever pirate the seas.”

“No, no,” Rosie shouts, yanking the sword from Eddie’s hands and tossing it aside, “‘M Cap’n Skittle now, but if you kiss me, I’ll turn into a princess! Kiss me, you’ll see!”

There’s a beat where Eddie and Steve share a fourth-wall-breaking glance. A silent should we be worried about this? and eh, it’s probably fine in return. They’re caught up in their half-concern, half-amused state that neither one realizes Rosie is moving until it’s too late. She throws herself at Steve, scaling her way up his legs and into his arms.

“Kiss me! Kiss me! Kiss me!”

With a laugh, Steve dramatically dips Rosie in his arms before planting a kiss on her lips. He pulls away with a loud smooching sound that has Rosie giggling and then rips the bandana off of her head. “Be still, my beating heart. You are a Princess!”

“Told ya so,” Rosie says before quickly switching to her new Princess role. “Tis I Princess Buttercup and you’re Prince Peanut. Together we’re Prince and Princess Peanut Buttercup!”

Damn candy commercials, Eddie thinks, hiding a smile behind a lock of hair. Glancing at the clock, Eddie realizes it’s way past Rosie’s bedtime. A fact Steve also picks up on based on the look he’s giving Eddie. A raised brow followed by a dramatic wink. He can practically hear Steve saying, watch this — forever the expert at getting Rosie to bed.

“What say thee, Princess Buttercup? Shall we retire to our room for a royal slumber?”

“But m’not tired,” she pouts.

“Ah, but Princess Buttercup. You must sleep so tomorrow we can defeat the evil Lord Munsington.”

“Munsington? Really?” Eddie laughs, shaking his head.

“We’re not talking to you, Lord Munsington,” Rosie scolds, shooing Eddie away with her hand. “We’re going to need lots of sleep to defeat him, Prince Buttercup.”

“Well, then, we better get started,” Steve muses, carrying Rosies toward her bedroom.

Eddie doesn’t follow, letting Steve get some quality time in with Rosie before she falls asleep. Besides, Eddie’s all storied out after hours and hours of playing pirates and witches and fairy tea parties. He collapses on the couch instead, letting his own eyes shut until he hears Steve’s feet padding their way to him.

“Missed you,” Steve says, kissing the top of Eddie’s head before sinking into the couch cushion beside him. He’s already stripped out of his work clothes, clad now in a pair of worn sweatpants.

“Missed you too,” Eddie says, snuggling up to Steve’s side. His warm shirtless body feels relaxing on Eddie’s aching bones. Especially his ribs which are already bruising from Rosie’s brutal hit earlier.

“Looks like I missed a good storytelling day.”

Eddie hums. “Well, we lost the plot at the end there, but yeah, it was a good storytelling day.”

“Worth the mess of our living room?” Steve asks, glancing around at the cardboard boxes, stuffed animal graveyard, and pillows littering the floor.

“I’ll clean it up in the morning, promise,” Eddie says through a yawn. “Right now, Lord Munsington needs his sleep.”

“Come on then,” Steve huffs, hot air fluttering the unruly tendrils of Eddie’s hair. Heaving Eddie off of him, he stands to his feet before extending a hand out. “Prince Peanut is feeling generous and will allow Lord Munsington to sleep in his bed.”

“Will cuddling be allowed?” Eddie asks, slapping his hand into Steve’s.

With a swift yank, Eddie’s on his feet and being propelled into Steve’s awaiting arms. He wraps his own around Steve’s neck, fingers kneading at the knots in his neck. Steve groans in pleasure before his own arms wrap around Eddie’s middle, squeezing.

“Cuddles are always allowed.”

Untangling himself from Steve, he moves his right hand until it rests on the small of Steve’s back. “Then let’s get a move on it,” Eddie says, guiding them towards their bedroom.

[the-bee-graveyard]

The Fine Line: Chapter Four

Other Chapters

Summary: The glader’s trauma is finally discussed (I’ve been meaning to put it in here but this is the first chapter I could make it work) Minho goes rogue and takes matters into his own hands. We finally get somewhere with Newtmas? Sort of? (Not a lot of Brendresa this chapter I’m afraid) 

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added/deleted): @izzymultifan @madmathis18

TW: MENTIONS OF DEATH, VIOLENCE, BLOOD MENTION

Chapter Four: Lines Are Erasable If They’re Drawn In Pencil

Part One: Thomas’s POV

The Last City burned in slow motion.

That’s what it felt like to the people who were there. It was a beautiful thing, watching that city burn, it felt like the final destruction of evil. Thomas didn’t have time to take in his victory, not as he dragged Newt through the ruins.

His friends shallow breathing made Thomas’s heart stop every time he heard it pause, even just for a second. He could collapse himself from exhaustion, but if he collapsed they both lied and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Newt die. He couldn’t let Newt die. 

Then Newt woke up, and Thomas wished he’d stayed unconscious for just a few minutes more. 

“Tommy, kill me,” Newt whispered at Thomas wrestled the knife from his hands. “Make amends. Do one right thing.” His voice dropped to a whisper, and Thomas could physically feel his heart breaking. “Please, Tommy, Please.” Newt relaxed a bit, giving Thomas just enough time to knock the knife out of his hands and send it flying, hitting the pavement again a few yards away.

Newt lunged for the knife, but Thomas pulled him into a tight embrace. Newt squirmed and punched at Thomas’s back, but Thomas kept a firm grip. He could feel his grip slipping though, and as Newt tried to pry him off again Thomas grabbed a large chuck of rock.

“I’m so sorry Newt,” Thomas said, tears flowing down his face like two rivers running beside each other. “I’m don’t want to do this. I don’t want to hurt you.” He hit the rock up against Newt’s head, hard enough to knock him out and he prayed light enough to do nothing else.

Newt sunk to the ground and Thomas sunk down next to him, shaking violently. 

“Thomas! Thomas!” A voice called. Thomas spun around to see Brenda running towards him, the serum in her hands. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Newt. “He’s not-?”

“He’s not dead,” Thomas assured her. “But give me the serum, he’s damn close.” Brenda stuck the needle into Newt’s arm. It was supposed to do something. But it didn’t.

“Newt,” Thomas whispered. “Newt please, please come back to me.” But nothing happened. Thomas pressed his hands to his friends chest, but there was no heartbeat. “I love you Newt, please.” 

Thomas’s eyes shot open. He almost fell out of his hammock as he climbed up and went over to the sleeping blonde next to him, pressing his hand to Newt’s chest making sure not to wake him. After watching Newt’s chest move up and down with breathing and feeling his heartbeat he went back to his own hammock and pulled something out of his pocket.

A necklace. The necklace.

The necklace Newt gave him back in the last city. Thomas blinked and the image of Newt begging him to take the necklace from him, Newt dying. Thomas quickly opened the necklace in hopes to get rid of the image, pulling out a piece of paper, a letter.

For a moment Thomas thought he shouldn’t read it. Newt wrote it when he was dying, maybe he only intended for Thomas to read it after he was gone. Thomas began to read the letter anyways, he was never known to say no to an impulse.

Part Two: Minho

So, none of their plans had worked so far. Minho really thought he had it with truth or dare, but of course Newt had to go and shut it down. Minho did see the look of disappointment on Thomas’s face had inspired him to continue on, and to go rogue.

Sonya was going to kill him for this. Thomas was going to kill him for this, if this didn’t work out. Maybe even if it did. Hopefully he’ll be too busy kissing his new boyfriend to assist Sonya in murder. Sonya didn’t need the help.

Minho skipped breakfast to break into the tech tent (where they kept all the technology). He could get something from Frypan later, he could not get what he needed later. It had to be now, while the tent was empty.

Minho dug through two crates before he found what he was looking for: a small handheld voice recorder. He stuffed it in his pocket quickly and begun heading for the exit when a raven haired blue eyed girl appeared in his way.

“Minho? What are you doing in here?” Teresa asked.

“Better question is what you’re doing in here,” Minho replied quickly, trying to look for places he could run or find excuses he could use.

“Vince sent me to work in here, do inventory and stuff like that,” Teresa said.

“I won’t tell if you don’t tell,” Minho said quickly.

“Minho, I’m the one who’s supposed to be in here,” Teresa replied calmly. Minho gave her a charming smile which usually got him out of situations. Teresa sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fine, go. But we’re not done with this conversation.” Minho thanked her and dashed off to find his favorite clueless idiots. 

Thomas found him first, almost ran into him really. “Minho,” Thomas gasped. “I’ve been looking all over the place for you.”

“That’s perfect, I’ve been looking for you too,” Minho said. “Now what's this about Tommy boy?” Minho expected to get the usual ‘only Newt can call me Tommy’ speech. Instead he got two pieces of paper shoved in his face.

“Read this,” Thomas said. “Would you consider this a love letter?” Minho took the pages from Thomas and began to read as quickly as he could.

He finished, and the fact that Thomas had to question whether that was a love letter or not was concerning. ‘From the moment you ran into the maze I knew I’d follow you anywhere’ was the gayest shit Minho had ever and would ever read.

Minho had to try his hardest to restrain himself from squealing. Another idea came to him (the creativity was really flowing for him today).

“Dude, that’s totally a love letter,” Minho said. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” Thomas said, looking slightly confused.

“If you could respond to this letter, how would you?” Minho pressed the record button on the recorder in his pocket. 

“I’d tell him since the minute I came up in that box, since he first looked down at me and I looked up at him there was never anyone else for me. That I realized that I was in love with him when he looked at me after he made me a runner, knowing he put all his trust in me and I couldn’t fail him. And that night in the scorch, I believed what he said to me, and I kept going because of him. And how I would have caught the flare a hundred times instead of him. That I have and always will love him.”

Minho would’ve teared up if he wasn’t so giddy with excitement. There’s no way that could be seen as platonic bro stuff, right? (knock on wood). 

“Great thanks Tom, love you my dude,”Minho said before running off to seek on the other half of the boyfriends-who-weren’t-aware-they’re-boyfriends.

Part Three: Newt

Newt was immediately suspicious when he saw Minho running towards him with a stupid grin plastered on his face. Newt had been working in the gardens with Sonya and Harriet (they usually hunted but they were all stocked up on meat so there was no need today) when he saw his friend coming towards them. 

Newt had been talking to Sonya about different types of plants. She’d ask a question about what type of plant it was or something like that and he’d tell her. He found he liked having someone to teach quite a lot, he liked having a sister.

“What the fuck is this about?” Newt sighed as Minho arrived at his side.

“Yeah, what the,” Sonya paused mid-sentence.

“Fuck,” Harriet inserted.

“Is this about?” Sonya finished, glaring at Minho suspiciously.

“I just need to talk to Newt in private about super secret bro stuff,” Minho said. The siblings and Harriet all glared at Minho was disbelief. “I want to talk to him about Brenda and Teresa’s undeniable chemistry.” Sonya and Harriet shrugged and went back to work. Minho grabbed Newt’s arm and began to drag him towards the beach, Newt trying to twist out of Minho’s grip. Newt was strong, but Minho was stronger.

“What’s this really about,” Newt said as his shoes hit the sand. He really hated being on the beach with his shoes on. 

“Don’t talk, just listen, kay?” Minho said, pulling a voice recorder and hitting play before Newt could protest.

He recognized Thomas’s voice immediately. He quickly thought of Thomas pressing his hand to Newt’s chest this morning, Newt pretending to be asleep as his heart sped up.

“I’d tell him since the minute I came up in that box, since he first looked down at me and I looked up at him there was never anyone else for me. That I realized that I was in love with him when he looked at me after he made me a runner, knowing he put all his trust in me and I couldn’t fail him. And that night in the scorch, I believed what he said to me, and I kept going because of him. And how I would have caught the flare a hundred times instead of him. That I have and always will love him,” Thomas said.

Newt couldn’t stop the tears from spilling out of his eyes. Minho clearly didn’t expect this reaction, he quickly pulled his friend into a hug though.

“Is something wrong? I thought you’d be happy to hear that?” Minho said.

Newt was happy, he really was. He’d spent the past months pining hopelessly, praying Thomas would love him back even just a little bit. He remembered all the nights he’d woke up looking for Alby or Minho and Thomas was always there to hold him until he fell back to sleep, or if he didn’t think he could go back to sleep to stay up and talk with him. How one time on the move looking for Minho they almost kissed but Vince called them over before they could, how Newt had stayed up for days thinking about what could have happened that moment.

And now he was getting that opportunity again.

“Happy, so happy Min, just overwhelmed,” Newt said, wiping the tears on his sleeve. Minho grinned and hit him on the back lightly.

“Go get your lover boy then.”

[riofann]

Rio Random

You don’t know how long you have been standing there but you watch as their body language speaks for them. You hear some words but you can’t really tell what they are talking about it’s loud at the house. An involuntary sharp breath is taken when you see him push her hair back. 

“Y/N?”  Your head snaps towards the direction of your name “Hey!” Marie a long time acquaintance walks over to you looking cheerful “I haven't seen you in so long” she comments

You force out a smile “Hey Marie! how are you?” you ask leaning into the hug

“I’m good! how are you wow look at you!” she compliments

You smile and look down at yourself “thanks you look good too!”

“We should hang out sometime”

“Yea! Yea text me!” 

“Yea definitely!  I gotta run my boyfriends waiting for me.” She gives you another quick hug “I just wanted to say ‘Hi’” 

“Oh okay”  you don't wait till she walks away before your eyes are trained on them but this time they are looking at you smiling. Trying to play it cool. 

You march towards them and their smiles drop they knew they were caught.  Without a word you start grabbing your things

“Y/N” Krystal calls to you sounding apologetic 

“Excuse me” you say as you push past her and Rio

Rio shoots Krystal a mug pissed that she decided now was the for this conversation. He’s close on your tail as you walk out the door calling your name. 

“Y/N!”  he calls to you 

You spin around so fast he almost runs into you “WHAT?” 

“Its not...”

You don’t want to hear anything he has to say so you cut him off “Why not her huh Rio?” you ask repeating the words Krystal said to him “why not her Rio why Me?” You didn't even know what the context was but you could only imagine and your mind was doing circles trying to make sense of it

He’s calm and puts his hands in his pockets “Its not what it looks like” 

You feel like slapping him its almost like he was un-phased by your emotions “Then what is it? I mean I get it we aren't a couple” you start to gesticulate with your hands  “and this thing doesn't really have a label but”  you scoff “for someone who “didn't know” Krystal you sure don't mind touching her!” 

“Y/N!”  You hear Krystal’s voice approaching you. 

You put your finger up for to stop talking 

“We were just talking” she tries to reason as she approaches you 

“About what?” you ask looking at Rio

They both remain silent, but Krystal keeps looking over at Rio almost as a guidance on how to react or not 

“What?” you pause to catch a breath you were getting riled up  “is this some sick joke between both of you?” 

“No its not....”  she struggles to find the words “Its...uh” 

“So why not her huh Rio i mean what was that all about?”  

“Nothing he was just” she tries answering for him and he scowls at her 

You cut your eyes at her “i didn't ask you so shut the fuck up!” 

You turn to look at Rio and he stands there with an expressionless face. 

You nod understanding that he wasn’t going to respond to you “Perfect!” you say before you walk away. 

It's not like you didn't have an idea about who Rio is or what he does. But for both of them to lie to you and pretend that it was though that they met it each other through you is what you didn't understand. If they knew each other from before why not just admit it? What were they hiding? 

-

Even after he calls you multiple times you refuse to talk to him. Damage control wasn’t really going to work on you. Roughly 2 months pass before you see him again. You were with your Aunt Brenda at the country club near her home accompanying her to a charity event taking place. If you can describe your aunt  she was just like Blanche Devereaux from Golden Girls but don’t get her started on the show, cuz she swore up and down they stole her personality. 

You both sit near the front of the court watching the tennis players play. There were 2 separate events Golf and Tennis and she opted for Tennis because walking around in the summer heat watching golf wasn't something she wanted to do. 

She’s cheerful probably from the mimosas shes had, bubbly and talking to everyone around her. She’s never met a stranger is what you always say, it was partially true. 

You stop breathing and your heart palpitates faster when you watch him walk onto the court.

“Ooh who is that?” Aunt Brenda comments a widow on the prowl she would catch anything that glimmered at her periphery 

You pull your straw hat down a little further and look away and down for the majority of the time he plays. When the games end you're glad hoping to make a beeline for the car. 

“Well that was fun!” she comments

“Yea!” you say as you people watch she had been chatting with friends and you drove her here so it’s not like you could just leave her without her knowing anyway. 

A younger man walk by her, he smiles at her and she fans herself “whoo if i was younger!”

“You're only as old as you feel” you comment looking around you feel paranoid he has to be around the corner I mean you were mingling with the players 

“You're right!...Hey! how about we eat here! Instead of driving across town again?” she suggests when no one else comes up to say hi 

“Uh sure”  you say looking around for the nearest exit

“Come on follow me” 

You both walk inside and you find your way to the eatery 

“Hi Mrs. Richmond how are you?” the hostess greets her with a bright smile  

“I’m good Ashley you look cute today!  Can i get a table for 2?”  

“Thank you! Sure! let me see” 

“Make sure it's somewhere I can see everybody... you know me” she winks 

“Yea!”  Ashley giggles at the inside joke as she looks at the seating chart she picks up two menus “right this way” 

You both follow Ashley to the table by the windows it was great spot you could actually see the whole room. It was kind of full and the tables around you were filled with families  you're thankful because that meant he would have a harder time spotting you, seeing that your back was to the door anyway at least that's what you thought. 

You and Aunt Brenda both look at the menus deciding what would be the best cure for hunger after seating in 90 degree weather for half the morning well into mid afternoon

“I don’t know i’m thinking a crisp salad with fruit will be good but hell i want something savory” she comments 

“Yea i feel the same way” you agree  “the sandwiches sound interesting they could be savory with fries” 

“I’m looking at this salmon”  she looks up at you “Oooh!  someones coming  sit up!” she snaps her fingers at you

You do so out of habit she was always for sitting proper and being dainty, you glance back and  feel your stomach drop it was Rio making his way towards you. You shoot him a half smile and turn to face your aunt bracing yourself for the conversation to come 

“Ladies” he speaks his voice sounding like music to your ears it felt like a long time had passed since you last heard it 

“Oooh hi” she says immediately smitten over his voice she daintily reaches her hand out “how are you I’m Brenda this is my niece...”

He grabs her hand and shakes it rubbing his thumb over it “Y/N”  he turns to face you while finishing her sentence

She looks between you two shocked “You two know each other?”

“Yea Aunt Brenda this is Mr. Rio” 

“Mr. Rio” she giggles “call me Brenda.... WOW!  Y/N!  you naughty thing you didn't tell me that you knew him all that pinning i was doing watching him play” 

You smile” uh i didn't know if it was him really playing” you lie 

You are all quiet for a moment before Brenda interjects “You wanna join us?” 

“Sure if you don't mind” Rio comments looking at you not really caring about Brenda

“Yea its fine!” 

“Y/N move!” she says gesticulating for you to stand up 

“What?”  

“Switch seats”  she explains  wanting you to sit in the seat middle you sigh as you shuffle over to the right Rio pulls out your chair 

“Such a gentleman” Brenda comments and you refrain from rolling your eyes 

“Thanks” 

“So!” she leans over perking her bosom giving all her attention to Rio  “how do you two know each other?” 

You didn't know how to describe your friends with benefits relationship  “We met via a friend” you say 

“Oh okay tell me about yourself Mr. Rio”  she says taking a sip of her water

He smirks leaning back on his seat “you can just call me Rio...what do you want to know Brenda” 

Brenda blushes “well Rio first that tattoo... did it hurt?” she can’t take her eyes off it 

He takes a sip of water and the muscles in his neck only accentuate the tattoo more “A little”  he says flirts back 

“Ooh” she fans hereslf taking a sip of water “i need to find the waiter” she says looking around “he needs to bring another pitcher of water im getting dehydrated here that voice!” 

“OKAY BRENDA!” 

Rio laughs throwing his head back 

“What? that voice that tattoo that face mmmm!”

“BRENDA!” you scold looking at her 

“Wha?”  she looks at you innocently

“Can you” you shake your head don't mind her

“Nah i don't mind at all” he smiles 

Things are quiet again and you and Rio sit staring at each other

“Well i’m gonna go to the bar get us some drinks. Moscow mule for you I know Rio can i get you anything?” 

“Nah ’m good with water thanks” 

“Okay you two behave” 

“Yea”  you say glancing up at her

“Shes fun!” he says chuckling at her looking back and winking at him  

“She’s a trip”  you say shaking your head at her comment “what can I help you with Rio?” you ask cutting to the chase 

“You look good” his voice drops lower 

“Thanks!” you try not to blush  “didn't know you played tennis. Played well” you hope to change the direction of the conversation 

“Thanks. I called you” he points out your lack of answering his calls 

“I know I was busy at the time” 

He nods accepting your excuse “we need to talk” 

“No we don’t.... about what?” 

“I'm sure you got questions for me” 

“You're not gonna tell me the truth anyway, so what's the point?”

“Try me” he challenges leaning forward 

You sigh “no” you were defeated 

“What?” he says noticing the expression on your face 

“Was i just a pawn in your game of chess?.... like you didn't care about me?.....At all?”

He holds a puzzled look “Where’d you get that from?” 

“I” you take a deep breath “nevermind” 

He sees Brenda coming back and stands up “i gotta go call me sometime”

“I don’t even have your number you call me on blocked all the time”

“Check your phone”  he says as he walks away and when you do you have a new message with a simple text of ‘call me’

“Where's he going?” Brenda asks as she approaches the table

“He had to go”  you answer

“Why’d you let him leave?” 

“What was I supposed to hold him down?!” 

“Yes! now i have no eye candy” she says pouting 

“I'm sure you’ll find someone” 

“You're right” She turns to face you and looks at you for awhile before saying “so are you wanna talk about what's going on between you two?”

“Not really” you respond looking down 

“Come on you can tell me I'm your Aunty Brenda” 

You sigh she was right you would often go to her when you had relationship problems and you're actually consider telling her how you got to this point.

-

Even after having his number you still opt to not call him. Every time you get ready to you stop yourself remembering how you both got to this point and figure it's best if you don't even open that can of worms. 

Another month passes before you two run into each other. This time at a dive bar that's kinda how you two met anyway at a bar. 

“So Mike tells me he wants  a threesome for his birthday!”

“What?!”  you say snapping back into the conversation with your best friend Mia

“Yea! that is what i said WTF right?”

You take a sip of your drink “Wow so what are you gonna do?” 

“He can kick rocks unless he wants to find me another man to fuck” 

You both erupt in laughter knowing it would never happen 

You spend the majority of the night talking about life before your bladder is threatening to embarrass you, is when you get up and go to the bathroom. 

“I gotta go pee!” you say jumping from the bar stool 

“Go! Go!”  she shoos you away putting her foot on your stool to save it

You walk hastily across the bar and find the bathroom a mini line with one person in front of you.

When you finally get to pee it feels like heaven on earth. And feel like you can finally breathe. It was such a relaxing feeling to pee when you had been drinking. 

There's a knock on the door  

“Just a minute!” You say loudly hoping they can hear you through the loud music 

You finish your business and go to wash your hands when the person knocks again “GIVE ME A MINUTE!” You scream this time but when the knock happens again you're convinced this person was a true dick and you yank the door ready to have an argument only to see Rio standing on the other side

“Really” you say unamused “excuse me”  you go to walk past him but like true Rio nature he backs you into the bathroom instead locking the door behind him

“What do you want?” you snap 

“Wow no hi” 

“Hi Rio you look good i hope life is treating you well!... what. do. you. want?”

He smirks at your sarcastic tone “You supposed to call me” 

“Yea i didn't want you lying to me anymore” 

He sucks his teeth “how you know i was gon’ lie” 

“Ummm well lets see I know absolutely nothing about you. Oh besides the fact that you play tennis I’m sure your name isn't even Rio. You and Krystal have or had something going on that involved me and unbeknownst to me you were both playing me like a fiddle!” 

He chuckles

“Is this funny to you”

“Yea kinda” he says stepping closer to you 

You scoff “of course” you go to walk away from him but he steps in your way 

“Nah I’m not done talking” he looks down at you 

“What do you want to talk about?” you separate yourself from him, you couldn’t be around him, the cologne the voice, 

He says nothing and just looks at you

“You wanna tell me it comes with the territory and i should know these things by now? I do i also know you probably have 10 other girls waiting for you to call so it's not a big deal I’m not a big deal I don't see why you're insisting on resolving things with me!” 

Truth be told he did try to get over you and move on but he found himself thinking about you more often than not

“Krystal isn't who you think she is” 

“And you choose now to tell me that? I kinda figured when you two were looking like exes at the party” 

He takes in a deep breath and watches you

“ Do you know what it's like Rio. I’m completely exposed to you. You know everything! Everything! the good things, the bad things, things I will take to the grave with me things that I don't even want my parents to know about and majority of it i told you, the others you have your “connections” yet I don't even know your name. And then you and Krystal have something going on I don't know what. I don’t get how I’m tied into all of it.” 

He still says nothing and looks at you expressionless jaws tight

“Are you just gonna stand there and say nothing?” His apathy was really getting to you “........What was i a facade or something” 

“Nah” 

You sigh and throw your head back the liquor getting to you “I can't do this i just”  you reach for the door knob and he backs up against it “can you please” you plead with him, he bits on his lower lip he looks like he’s thinking about what to say next but instead he slowly stands straight, his eyes boring a hole into you as you leave the bathroom 

“Wow that took you long!” Mia comments its been close to 20 minutes 

“Yea i ran into someone”

“Who?”

“That guy” your new nickname for him 

“What?” she said confused  “ohhhh Rio” 

“Yea” you say taking a sip  

“What hes here?” she says looking around

“Yea don't make it obvious”

Her head snaps to face you “Sorry... you okay?” she asks rubbing your arm 

“Yea!” 

“You wanna leave?” she suggests 

“NO! Its our night out forget him!” 

“You sure?” 

“Yup fuck him”  

You both drink and the bar gets full and by now you’ve turned to face the crowd and people watch while talking shit at the same time

“Hey” you hear his voice next to you

“Hi!”  you say looking at him “this is Mia” you introduce her, since they never met before, but they both knew of each other 

He smiles “nice to meet you” 

“Mhmmm Hi Rio” she says as she holds an unamused expression

“Must have heard a lot about me huh?” 

“Some good things” 

He nods “what yall drinking” 

“Knock me downs”

“You want another round?” 

“Yea!” Mia responds for both of you 

“Y/N?” he asks you before lightly grazing his tongue on his bottom lip 

“Sure!” you say adjusting in your seat, its fair to say being around him while you were under the influence was asking a lot of you

“Its packed today!” Mia comments bobbing her head to the music

“Yea its a good night! why aint yall on the dance floor?” 

“You see these?”  Mia says pointing to her shoes “these aren't dancing shoes”

“So you just wanna sit and look cute?” 

“Period” you both say in unison

“Y/N?” 

“Yea” 

“What's your excuse”  

“What she said” you said pointing your thumb backwards to Mia 

“Thanks”  he says speaking to the bartender

“Come dance with me”  he says while motioning his head to the dance floor or rather where people were dancing

“Oh no!” you shake your head vigorously 

“Come on please  just one”  he says with his hand open waiting for you 

“Fine!” you say taking his hand in yours

“I'll save your seat!” 

He has a tight grip on your hand as he pulls you to the middle. He stops turns and faces you the music changes and he pulls you closer to him as you dance to bachata 

“Wow” you’re at a loss of words as you both move on the dance floor  

“What you thought this was?” he flirts 

“I didn't think this” you blush as you both move around the dance floor he holds your hand up so you can twirl for him while he smiles at you. For someone who was apathetic he sure did have moves.He spins you around so that your back is to him and you can't help but squeal as he moves your body along with his sometimes with sudden dips, making you hold onto his arms tighter. You feel his breath on your neck as the tempo changes indicating change of songs. 

With arms wrapped around you tightly you both sway to the music you feel a light kiss on your neck “I missed you” he admits 

You wanna call bs but this was diff he wouldn't even as much as say hi to you in public and now all of a sudden you are at a bar dancing with him 

“You heard me?”  he asks not sure because you didn't react you nod in response and step away so you can turn to face him he pulls you close

He looks deep into your eyes “I'm not lying” 

“Okay”  you say as you continue to sway to the music

“Last call for drinks last call” the DJ announces 

You both step away from each other and look towards the dj booth

When he looks at you again you can't help but blush Rio had a way of communicating with his facial expressions without a word being uttered

“You good?” he asks teasing you

“Yup! Lets go!” you say wanting to get out of the dance floor

“WHOO!”  Mia cheers as you two reach her

“That was cute!” 

“What you getting into after this?”

“Going home”

He smacks his lips “com’on ma” 

“No i think i should go home.” 

He nods respecting your decision

“She needs a date with a Denis she’s been grouchy I have a strong feeling you can fix that” 

He laughs

“Okay time for me to take you home” 

“What?” 

“We are gonna go it was nice seeing you” 

He pushes a strand out of your face and you take in a sharp breath “make sure you text me telling me you reached safe or ima pull up”

“Okay”

[godofplumsandthunder]

In Sickness And In Health - Chapter 2

Pairings: Bucky x Dot, Eventual Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Talk about cancer and death, Swear words, Angst, and I think that’s it? If there’s anything that you feel needs to be tagged, please, please, please let me know.

A/N: Yay! Chapter 2 is here! Finally. Like I mentioned in the first chapter, this is a fic with Bucky being a cancer patient. I’m writing this from my point of view as a cancer patient, so I can say that this can be triggering for some of you fellow cancer patients. i hope you guys like this chapter, and are stay safe out there. Also, a huge thank you to my beta Lacy! 

Chapter 1     Masterlist

Bucky collapses into sobs. Just a few moments ago, Bucky was a relatively healthy young man. He had a promising career, a girlfriend he loves. Just last, he went ring shopping with Steve, trying to find the perfect ring for Dot. Bucky was planning a life for Dot and him. But it was all taken away by three words. His mind is going down rabbit holes of eternal what-ifs when Dr. Strange's voice cuts through and snaps Bucky back to the present. 

""I was able to schedule a biopsy for tomorrow in the afternoon. We will need to have you take a CT of your lungs to make sure they can handle the anesthesia. The nurse will take you over there now. We should have a better picture of things tomorrow. Do you have any questions for me, James?" Bucky wipes at his eyes, now red and puffy. 

"I mean, not right now. But I'll probably have some later." Bucky responded through more tears.

"If you do, here's my card. I'll see you tomorrow James." With Dr. Strange's card in his hand, Bucky waits for the nurse to come in. While he waits, he contemplates calling Dot, to have her by his side. But, Bucky, deep down, doesn't want Dot with him. While he is scared and alone, he has a sense of peace around him, something that he doesn't have that often when he's with Dot. He thinks about calling Steve when the nurse comes in. She's not what he was expecting. For some reason, he pictured the nurse as an older lady. In her 50's, maybe 60's, maternal, like Phyllis, from The Office. Instead, stands a young blonde, with a warm, and genuine smile. 

"Hello, Mr. Barnes. I'm Sharon, I'll be helping you over in radiology. Do you need a minute before we head over?" Bucky gives a short, silent, nod. Sharon just gives a small smile back. 

"Is there anyone you'd like to call so that they can be here with you, Mr. Barnes?" This is the second time he's had the chance to call Dot. To let her know that he has cancer and he's having surgery. Yet for the second time, Bucky doesn't need Dot. He doesn't want Dot. 

"No, no. I-I'm good. Let's just get this over with." Bucky stands up and follows Sharon to radiology. Thankfully this procedure was fairly short, and in a few minutes, Bucky was able to go home, and finally get some much, much-needed rest. 

Bucky barely makes it home when his phone rings. 

"Is this James Barnes?" Dr. Strange's voice rings out of the phone. 

"Yes, it is," Bucky responds, shakily.

"Well, we got your CT scans back. We are still going forward with the biopsy tomorrow. This means that you must fast for at least 8 hours before your surgery. Though we did find something on the images that is a  little disturbing. I regret to inform you that the cancer has metastasized to the lungs. There are about 7 nodules on your lungs. This will not affect any current treatment that will happen as of now, but we wanted to inform you about this right away. I hope you have a good rest of the day, and we will see you tomorrow." Dr. Strange hangs up, and the room is left in silence. 

Something breaks inside of Bucky. A sound he didn’t know he could make erupted from his mouth. Tears fall as he slides from his chair and onto the floor. Bucky feels so alone and scared. He curls up and lets himself release all of his pent up emotions. The fear of dying. Of leaving this world before his time. The fear of the unknown. The fear of pain, if he does survive. He mourns. He mourns the memories he won’t be able to make. He worries if Dot will stay with him. After all, who would want to stay with a bald and sick man? Bucky kept all of this down and hidden from the moment he went to the doctors. When he tried to express these feelings with Dot, Steve, or his family, they dismissed them quickly. Saying you have to think positive. Yet, look where positive thinking got Bucky. 35 and diagnosed with metastasized cancer. 

Bucky doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep. But, Dot’s recognizable, and loud shrill gladly woke him up.

“Bucky? Where you at? You’re never going to believe what happened to Brenda!” Dot clamors her way through the house, eventually finding Bucky, red-eyed and slouched on the floor.

“Aww, what's wrong Bucky? Did you watch a sad movie? I told you not to watch Old Yeller!” Dot patronizes Bucky, completely unaware of the serious condition her boyfriend is in. Though Bucky is quick to rectify this. 

“No Dot! I didn’t watch fucking Old Yeller! I just got told that I have cancer and that it spread to my lungs! So sorry I’m a little sad.” Dot just looks at Bucky with such disdain.

“And when were you thinking of telling me? Didn’t think that maybe you should have told your girlfriend that you have the cancer? Or am I not important enough to know this information?”

Bucky can’t deal with this right now. Dot would be the bitch that turns this all round on her. 

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t think to call my girlfriend right after I found out that I’m dying! And what a selfish bitch you are! Little miss diva has to make everything about her! Do you want to know why I went to the hospital by myself? It’s because of you Dot! You make everything into a scene and I just wanted some goddamn quiet and peace!” Bucky yells, his emotions taking control of him.

“You can’t talk to me like that!” Dot huffs, clearly not used to Bucky treating her this way.

“Well, Dot. I just did! And if you don’t like it, there’s the door!” Bucky spits out. He’s never been this mean or harsh to Dot before, and frankly, he doesn’t care. He has bigger things to worry about right now.

“Fine, Bucky! I’ll leave! Maybe then you’ll learn how to treat me right!” Dot slams the door behind her leaving Bucky all by himself.

“I’m better off without that bitch!” Bucky yells as he sobs again.

=====

Finally alone and calm (as calm as you can be after hearing you have cancer), Bucky makes the hardest phone calls he’s ever had to make. 

“Bucky! I haven’t heard from you for ages! How are you, baby?” The warm and loving voice of Winnifred Barnes fills Bucky’s house. 

“I’m not good mama,” Bucky breaks down into tears sooner than he thought he would. 

“Bucky? What’s the matter? What’s wrong, honey?”

“I have-” Bucky stumbles on the word. He doesn’t want to admit he has this, not to someone he loves. “I have cancer, mama. They’re doing a biopsy tomorrow. And I’m alone and scared.”

The sounds of Winne’s tears flow through the phone. 

“Oh, my sweet baby boy. It’s going to be okay. You know that right? It’s going to be okay.” Winnie doesn’t know who she’s saying that to. To Bucky, or to herself. The hardest thing a parent can go through is to see their child suffer. And here she was, having to hear her precious, baby boy, be so scared. 

“Mama?” Bucky whispers.

“Yes, baby. I’m here.”

“Can you come? I don’t want to be alone.” Bucky chokes up. 

“Of course baby. I’m booking the first flight right now. Everything's going to be okay. Mama’s coming.”

“I love you, mama”

“I love you too, Bucky. So, so much. I’ll see you soon sweetie.”

=====

Tagging:@marvelgirl7 @aesthetical-bucky @littleredstarfish @hiddles-rose (Taglist is always open)

[haazeycoffee-archive]

A "Hot" Kiss - Short .:Friendlypack Fic:.

"And thank you again, sir, for allowing me to deliver you the freshest water in all of Los Santos, with a maximum of only 10% lead per bottle! Feel free to call back anytime you need Stan the Water man's top notch wat-".

"Yeah yeah, thanks. Whatever".

Stan was quickly interrupted by his customer, who had just slammed the door in his face. The blond-haired delivery man just mumbled out a simple "huh", before walking back over to his delivery scooter and getting on "Maybe I...talk too much? hmm.." just as he was about to drive away, his phone started to ring. 

huh... who could that be?

Kiki, Reggie, and Anna were all busy doing another big photoshoot, which, according to Kiki, was hobo-exclusive this time, so Stan couldn't go. Garrett was taking a day off form work to party with his friends, which included Alan. Brenda was busy with work, and so was Jimmy, who was selling oxy. 

A sudden nasty feeling gripped Stan's heart when he looked at his phone and saw his new boyfriend's number. He and Jimmy had just gotten together the week prior, and for some reason, Stan started to worry about him more often. Maybe it was because of all these new feelings? Stan, and Jimmy for that matter, had just came out as bisexual a week ego, so these last few days have been pretty emotional.

"Hey there, Jimmy! Everything alri-".

"ST-...AH AH STAN!".

Getting interrupted yet again, Stan was taken aback by Jimmy's vigorous breathing; it sounded like he just ran a marathon!

"Jimmy? W-What's wrong? Why are you so out of breath?".

"STAN, I-I'M AT YOUR APARTMENT. I-I NEED YOU".

Stan's expression changed from concerned to absolutely confused "Wha- ...why-".

"J-JUST GET OVER HERE, PLEASE!" Jimmy begged before violently coughing into the phone.

"O-Okay okay! I'll be right over!".

-----

After finally making it back to his apartment building, Stan parked his scooter and hurried to the stairs, running past Vincent in the process, who was trying to get his attention "CAN'T TALK NOW, VINNIE! JIMMY'S IN TROUBLE! I'LL TEXT YA LATER".

Stan was already in his apartment by the time Vincent responded, so he didn't get to hear what the ShamWow guy had said, but he was too focused on Jimmy anyway. 

"Jimothy?" Stan muttered as he stepped into the kitchen "J-JIMMY!".

To Stan's shock, the younger man was sitting on the ground leaned against the counter. He was also shaking, and was sweating terribly. His sunglasses were sitting on the counter, so Stan could clearly see that Jimmy's face and eyes were super red. Wait, ...was he crying? Was he high? And why was he panting so hard?

"STAN!" Jimmy jolted himself up to his feet and tightly hugged his water-obsessed boyfriend, before quickly pulling away.

"Jesus, Jimmy! What the hell happened?" He gasped "D-Did you overdose?!".

Jimmy sighed in aggravation "S-Stan, if I overdosed, I'd be fuckin' dead on the floor! N-No I didn't fuckin' overdose!".

"WELL SORRY FOR ONLY BEING WATER-SAVVY! What's wrong with you then?!"

"O-Okay, s-so, I-I was....I was out selling oxy, ...l-like normal, right? A-And... and the guys that robbed us at the bank, ..uh-uh b-bird, clown, bear? Th-They wanted some oxy, s-so I was more than glad to sell it to them, y-ya'know, b-because I thought if I ..d-did-didn't, they'd kill me. So I give them the oxy, a-and instead of paying me with money, they gave me a plastic zip-bag of-of peppers. I-I knew they'd probably shank me if I said no, s-so I just took the peppers and left".

Stan crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow "Okay...".

"So, I decided to take a little, ..o-oh Jesus Chri-" Another harsh cough interrupted him, and he bent over a little, placing his hands on his knees to cough more easily "EHCK, eh.. I-I sat down on a bench t-to take a little break, a-and I ate some of the peppers". He straightened himself up and wiped the sweat from his forehead "I ate three......a-and it tur-t-turns out they were ghost peppers".

"Ghost peppers?! Those SUPER hot peppers that'll burn your mouth?!".

"yES!!!" Jimmy replied with another cough, making his voice hoarse. 

"Well did you drink any water? I have plenty here!".

"DAMMIT STAN, WATER DOESN'T DO SHIT WITH STUFF LIKE THIS!! …..B-But....y-yeah, ….I drank the rest of the water in your apartment...".

"WHAT? If you knew it wasn't going to work, why'd you do it?".

"MY MOUTH IS ON FIRE, STANIEL! I PANICKED, OKAY? Y-You seriously don't have any milk?!".

Stan gave a typical glare "You know I don't believe in that crap!!".

Jimmy let out a groan of pain and frustration as he stressfully rubbed his face and pulled at his dark-teal hair with his fists "C-Could you drive me to the store s-so we can buy some milk?".

"No way! No boyfriend of mine is drinking that tainted liquid!".

"STAN, PLEASE" Jimmy begged desperately "I-I'LL PAY FOR IT! I-I just need it, please!!".

Stan sighed "Alright alright, c'mon you big baby. Let's go".

-----

"Apologize, you big a-hole! Jimmy is in a butt-load of pain and you just scolded him like a fudging jerk! Sure, milk is terrible for you, b-but if it's the only thing that'll help Jimmy, then it's fine in SOME circumstances. You love Jimmy, but he doesn't know that because you yelled at him like a big meanie!" Stan scolded himself in his thoughts as he drove to the convenience store with Jimmy in the passenger seat, who was still sweating and panting.

As they stopped at a red light, Jimmy leaned back in his seat and dramatically pressed his palms into his face "A RED LIGHT?! COME ONNNNNN! I'M DYING HERE!".

As the teal-haired man groaned, Stan worked up the courage to apologize to him "H-Hey Jimmy?".

Jimmy sighed and turned his head "Yeah, Sta-Stan?".

"I'm sorry for yelling at you back there. Water is more perfect than anything, but...it doesn't work for every situation, so... I'm sorry for being such a jerk.".

"It's okay, Stan... I-I'm sorry for yelling too...".

"A-And besides, ...water is perfect, …b-b-ut...there's two things I cherish in life more than water: my sweet baby boy Roy, ..and you".

Just for a moment, the pain from the peppers subsided, and Jimmy's heart swelled. He couldn't help but smile from ear to ear.

Stan awkwardly shuffled his hands, which were sitting on the steering wheel "U-Uhmm… heh, ...uh..." a faint shade of pink painted his face "U-Uh, me...kiss you....?".

Jimmy laughed, remembering how awful Stan was at flirting "Yes, Sunflower. Me kiss you".

Stan smiled widely and leaned closer to his beloved boyfriend, with Jimmy doing much of the same. Their lips pressed together, and as their eyes closed to enjoy the moment, Jimmy gently placed his hand on the back of Stan's head.

Sure, these two got into their fair share of fights, but they loved each other more than anything, and moments like these were always super affectionate and romantic. Warmth filled their hearts as they kissed.

After a good while of sharing sweet smooches, the two men backed away. Jimmy was still dying of the ghost peppers' unforgiving heat, but he let out a small sigh of relief "Heh, w-Why don't we... ..w-why don't we do that more often?" he asked, realizing he was out of breath again from the peppers.

"'Cause we're stupid" Stan chuckled jokingly as he began to drive when the light turned green. Jimmy, still suffering, managed to laugh gently at the man's amusing response.

Just as they started to pull into the convenience store's small parking lot, Stan began to feel a hot sensation pool in his throat. His eyes widened and he parked the car, feeling sweat gradually start to build up at his forehead.

".....St-......Stan...?".

"H-Ho-Holy shit, I-I mean crap! H-HOLY CRAP!" Stan frantically unbuckled his seat belt, his hands fumbling a little "FUCK, IT'S HOT! I-I MEAN FUDGE!".

Jimmy's eyes lit up and his jaw dropped in realization. That kiss... it must've transferred some of the scolding hot pepper taste to Stan!

Stan was in full panic mode, and was now just as sweaty and just as bright red as his boyfriend "WATER!! WATE RWATER W ATER".

"STAN, WATER'S NOT GOING TO WORK!" Jimmy shouted as they rushed out of their car and into the store. 

The cashier just watched speechlessly as the two men rushed over to the refrigerated area and searched for whatever it was that they needed. Jimmy made a break for the milk, grabbing a small bottle so he could chug it right then and there. Stan, on the other hand, was chugging down all the water he could "WHY ISN'T IT WORKING?!" he panted.

"H-Holyyyy shit, that's soooo much better!" Jimmy sighed, the pleasantness of relief and milk graced his taste buds as he continued to drink more "Thank you, sweet cow juice" he mumbled quietly as he hugged the medium-sized carton of milk close to him.

"STAN, WHAT THE FUCK?!" A sudden piercing voice disrupted them, and they both quickly realized that it was Kiki Chanel, who was with Reggie and Anna.

"Kik-K-Kiki? W-What are you doing here?" Stan panted, his mouthful of water spilling out onto his blue polo shirt.

"I told you, Stan! We're shooting for my next line of KOC! Hashtag SPICY~" Kiki posed fabulously as she named the hashtag "What the hell are YOU doing here?".

"W-WELL, JIMMY GOT GHOST PEPPERS FROM A GROUP OF CRIMINALS A-AND ATE THREE OF THEM, A-AND AS I WAS DRIVING HERE TO GET HIM SOME MILK, W-WE KISSED IN THE CAR A-AND NOW MY MOUTH IS BURNING UP! I-I WANTED TO MAKE HIM FEEL BETTER FOR YELLING AT HIM EARLIER, B-BUT I FAILED TO REALIZE THE CONSEQUENCES OF KISSING SOMEONE WHO HAD JUST EATEN GHOST PEPPERS".

"You two are dating? Well congratulations, Staniel! Damn, I didn't think you'd ever actually find someone" Reggie said with his trademark, maniacal laugh "Like, EVER!".

"Yeah, congratulations Stan! We're really happy for you" Anna said with her sweet, soft voice.

"O-OH THANK YOU" Stan coughed, his voice cracking and starting to sound emotional.

"OOH!" Kiki clapped her gloved hands together "THIS. IS. PERFECT! Stan, Jim, you two just keep doing what you're doing! Anna, Reggie, get into position and get ready to say 'hashtag spicy' on my say so!".

The two models posed fashionably in front of Jimmy and Stan, who were both still suffering from what was basically heat stroke at this point.

"HASHTAG SPICY!" Reggie and Anna spoke in a synchronized manner after Kiki told them "go!".

"Ah! Fannntastic! Wonderful! Now c'mon, team! Just two locations left! See ya later, Stan! Thanks for the photo op~". 

With that, the trio of models were gone.

Stan groaned painfully as he slammed his fist onto the fridge door, whining loudly.

Jimmy, now mostly relieved of the heat, walked over to Stan and kissed him gently on the cheek "Are you sure you don't want any of this milk? It'll make you feel better than if you popped an oxy".

The agonized water man wailed in defeat "alriiiiight!" he cried out, grabbing the milk and quickly downing the rest of it. His face immediately contorted into an expression of pure disgust. 

Jimmy sighed with a roll of his eyes "Feel better, Sunflower?".

"A-A little. Can we just go home now?" Stan continued to whine.

Jimmy chuckled "Yeah. C'mon, you big baby" he teased as he took hold of Stan's hand "Let's go".

-------

Written by: @Gay-Spaghetti

Hope you guys enjoyed this! :3 Mayyyybe I'll write more Friendlypack fics if I come up with more ideas :P Thank you, Dorkskittles for letting me submit this! Love ya! <3

Response))OMLLLL SPAGHETTI THIS WAS SO GOOOOOOOOOD!!!!!!!!! EEE SO TENSE AT THE BEGINNING BUT IT EVENED OUT AS IT WENT ON!!! SO GOOD SJSJSJ YOUR WRITING IS VERY ENJOYABLE TO READD!!!

[rue-by-another-name]

“Late Night Lobby Flirtations” - h.s. one shot

Okay so this is almost 9,000 words ... so you all better appreciate the time I spent working on this haha. I wrote this as a thank you for the donations given to Marlie ( @hey-marlie ) for her grad school application funds! I took a bunch of different suggestions through the requests you all gave me so I hope it’s a winner for the books! 

If you’d like more of this story (maybe some smutty fun ya know? ;) oh la la) then you can always donate to @hey-marlie to help her out! And read her novel while you’re at it. It’s a heartbreaking slow burn that seriously is giving me heart palpitations every single chapter I read. Highly recommend. 10/10 you’ll fall in love. I’ll put the link at the end! 

AND I’M SORRY IF THE KEEP READING FUNCTION DOESN’T WORK OKAY THIS IS REALLY FUCKING LONG SO I’M SORRY IN ADVANCE. 

-----

-----

Being a lobby receptionist was not your ideal night job. If it were up to you, you’d be waiting tables for tips, or even maybe working as a shot girl at a club (also for the tips). But when the prestigious building around the block from your not-so prestigious building had put up the job listing it had seemed like the perfect time to fit a nightly job into your life.

You were in your last semester at uni, so you only have one class you were taking to finish off your degree in hospitality and business. Working in a building like this was only fitting, really, considering your next couple years would most likely be in receptionist positions. The class was an afternoon class, which meant on Mondays, Wednesdays and Friday you were up at 4pm for your one class that ended up at 6pm. That was it. That was all you had.

So taking an all-night job position starting at 7pm was kind of ideal, when you thought about it.

The building was super nice too. There was a small fridge under the desk that you filled with your favorite coconut water, and the uniform wasn’t ridiculous – a white blouse and black capris dress pants and black heels. You sat behind the desk or stood and you would answer questions for people, or answer the phone to let people into the building. You made reservations, and took house calls for electricians, plumbers, and the cable guy.  

It was simple really.

And about two weeks into the job you were already starting to get to know a lot of the residents and their quirks. There was George, the elderly man in his seventies who was quite posh and used to deal in art (you suspected it might have been a tad bit illegal).

Glenda and Fred were the older couple whose college son Andrew came home over the holidays (or so they’d told you a million times; you suspected they wanted to set you up with the future lawyer). Glenda had her own decorating business and Fred was also a lawyer. Very nice people.

Sherri and Stanley had their twin little boys Charlie and Colton and small princess of a babe Clancy. The boys were always running around the lobby and laughing, their toddler sister wobbling after them and also shrieking with laughter at their antics.

Brenda the architect had a teenage daughter Melanie, who was always a bit down on herself and sick of her mum always being in her business. But they were a cute pair to behold and made you want to call your own mum almost every day.

And then there was Harry. Rock star, breakout actor, solo career, Gucci wearing Harry and his little cocker spaniel Doug. He was … well, he was a dream.

There were other residents, sure, but they weren’t the ones who hung out in the lobby, or called to ask you questions, or asked that their mail be brought up from their box. The other residents mostly kept to themselves and you were fine with that. But this small group of people were more or less a family, and you watched their interactions as they all came home from long days at work and school. In just two weeks you felt you could peg each of them for their lifestyles. And they just as easily could kind of figure you out.

“Good evening Y/N,” George smiled as he gracefully stepped off the elevator in his red silk bathrobe. He didn’t leave his flat often, you’d noticed, and when he did he was always wearing gloves and a hat and carrying an umbrella. The more you thought about it, the more you were sure he had dabbled in quite a few illegal activities and was keeping a low but lush profile for the rest of his life.

“Good evening Sir George,” you teased. You always told George he was elegant enough to have been knighted by the Queen herself, and George had been quite taken with that. The joke was an everlasting term of endearment between the two of you.

“How was your day?” you asked, straightening out some papers and starting to put some flyers into some of the mail slots.

“Just marvelous,” George nodded, “Marvelous indeed.”

“Your groceries should be coming tomorrow, correct? Please let me know if they forget anything so I can pick it up on my way to work?”

“You’re too kind dear,” George waved his hand before sitting in one of the luxurious armchairs around the glass coffee table. “I’ll let you know.”

7:30pm on the dot the Henderson family – Sherri, Stanley and the lot – walked through the door ushering in their kiddos with little Clancy asleep in her father’s arms. The twins, however, were going on and on about their footie game in the park.

“Mr. George!” Charlie cried, “I scored a goal today!”

“A goal!” George clapped for the young boy as he threw himself into his lap on the chair. You found it endearing that George had literally come down from his flat just so he could see the boys after their long day and hear their stories. He was like their surrogate grandfather.

“And I scored two!” Colton ran up as well, smiling and showing off his missing front teeth. “And I slid this from Ranger’s pocket just like you taught me!”

The small boy held up some sort of trading card and beamed as George gave Colton’s parents a petrified look. You smirked, George had definitely been involved in some fabulously famous con in the past. You were sure of it.

“We’ll talk about this later, Colton,” Sherri sighed, taking the sleeping tot from her husband. “Lovely day George?”

“Marvelous,” George nodded.

“Well we’re off for bedtime,” Stanley clapped, “Come on boys. Long day of school tomorrow.”

Both boys groaned before giving George a quick hug and heading off. Sherri stopped over at the desk as she made her way towards the elevator. “Cynthia, our babysitter, should be coming a little early tomorrow morning around 6am while you’re still here. I’ll send you her information so you know who she is and aren’t concerned about some random stranger.”

“Wonderful,” you smiled and then cooed at the sleeping princess. “She’s getting bigger already!”

“Feels that way,” Sherri chuckled, adjusting her daughter in her arms. “Have a lovely night, Y/N.”

“You too Mrs. Henderson.”

George stayed and took some tea for about an hour before retiring to his flat once more. He slipped you a bit of a tip, probably for getting him his tea even though he hadn’t even asked and it was technically your job, but you simply smiled back at his beaming face. “Buy yourself a silk scarf for that pretty neck,” he suggested, “They’re in fashion these days, I believe.”

“Anything is in fashion if you wear it correctly George.”

The voice belonged the none other than the style icon himself, Harry Styles. Today was not one of those days that he’d dolled himself up though, in nothing but some black jeans with scuffs and holes and a fuzzy forest green jumper. Little Doug, her pattering feet excitedly scampering around Harry’s boots, wagged her tail when she saw you.

“You would know, my dear boy,” George clasped Harry’s arm and smiled. “Have a good night, lad.”

“You too, sir.”

You both watched as George made his way towards the elevator and got in, signaling one final wave. Once he was gone, Harry leaned on the counter and turned to you. “D’ya reckon he was part of some great diamond heist at some point?”

“That silk robe has to cost a fortune,” you nodded, “I wouldn’t be surprised at all. He’s already teaching Colton how to pick pocket.”

Harry shook his head, “Can you believe it Dougie?”

Doug wagged her tail once more and you couldn’t help but walk out from around the desk to squat down and scratch behind her little ears. “Remind me again why you named this gorgeous girl Doug?”

“Just looked like one,” Harry shrugged, “And she responded to it so it stuck.”

“I respond to quite a lot of nicknames but my name surely isn’t Petal,” you chucked, standing back up and brushing some hair from your face.

Harry cocked his head to the side, “Someone calls ya Petal? Must be a lucky lad.”

“My dad did,” you smiled softly. You watched Harry’s smile twitch slightly.

To not make things awkward, you immediately asked, “Did you have a good day then?”

“Better now that I’m home,” Harry sighed, “Long days at the studio now.”

“I’m sure there are many fans who will thank you tenfold later on down the glamorous road you walk,” you smiled. Harry simply nodded and knuckled an eye in a tired fashion. He looked like a small child in his moment as he rubbed his eye and cradled Doug in the other hand. You wanted to massage his plump cheeks, kiss his forehead, and send him off to bed with a warm cup of tea.

“You need tea,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. Harry’s tired eyes registered shock for a moment before they softened.

“Yeah?”

“Sorry,” you sighed, “You just look exhausted, Harry. Are you taking care of yourself?”

These weren’t the professional questions you probably should have been asking, but you had already crossed the professional bar quite a few times with some of your closest residents. You’d helped Melanie sober up once when she’d come home from a party before her mum found her, and you’d even turned away a suspecting novelist searching for George. Both boys had broken objects in the lobby that you’d simply glued back together before your boss found out, and you’d been discrete when Glenda’s assistant/potential booty-call had needed to leave in a hurried fashion before Melanie came home.

So, if anything, asking Harry if he was taking care of himself was mild behavior.

“It’s just, I know you’re the only one looking after Doug here, and heaven forbid if anything happened to you I know she’d be a wreck,” you spoke hurriedly.

Harry chuckled at your cover up, fair well knowing you were basically talking about yourself. “I promise ya love, I’m doing just fine. Just been a long couple days, you know?”

“Oh I know,” you gestured to the lobby, “I’m on the night shift every night.”

“How’s your class?” Harry asked, redirecting the conversation. He was good at this, you’d noticed. Harry really wasn’t a talker, but he liked company. Some nights he spent hours sitting down in the lobby just to converse with anyone and everyone who came through. He lived all alone in the penthouse flat, and you could tell from his actions that it was a lot for him all by himself. Oftentimes you found yourself being the one to ask him all the questions so he could talk and answer, but if he was tired of talking about himself he was fully capable of asking you question after question as well.

“My class is fine,” you nodded, “All about scheduling and timesheets and setting up meetings and all that. Basically learning how to keep track of a life.”

Harry nodded before knuckling at his eye one more time. “Harry,” you chided, “Go to bed.”

“It’s only 8pm,” he pouted.

“And Doug looks tired,” you offered, once more using the sweet dog as an excuse.

Harry nuzzled the dog with his nose as he cooed, “Is that right, Dougie? Too tired from your walk? You did watch the twins play footie, didn’t ya? Wanted to play yourself too.”

“Oh you went to the boys’ game! How sweet,” you smiled, “It’s adorable how much you all act as a family.”

“Gotta attach myself to some family when I’m away from my own,” Harry smiled warmly, “I’m basically the Henderson’s first born.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, turning and finding Harry’s stack of mail he’d never picked up. “Oh! Here’s your mail by the way,” you said as you offered it over to him. Harry placed Doug back on the ground before shuffling through the mail.

“Never any fun letters,” he sighed, “No one writes letters anymore, do they?”

You shrugged, “It’s a lost art.”

Harry nodded, slightly lost in thought, before huffing. “Okay then,” he nodded more to himself as he looked down at Doug. “We’ll probably call it a night then.”

“I’ll bring tea up,” you decided, watching as Harry made his way towards the elevator.

“You’ll do no such thing!” Harry called over his shoulder. His eyes sparkled as you smiled innocently at him. You both knew full well you’d be up at his flat in the next ten minutes with a perfectly warm mug of tea – with the perfect amount of milk and sugar respectively.

The week passed quickly, as every week does, and you found yourself one night sitting at the glass table in the middle of the lobby playing checkers with Melanie. She was grounded because her mum had found out she’d snuck her boyfriend in (much to your assistance unbeknownst to Glenda, of course) and so she was on house arrest.

“I feel bad I put you in such a bind,” you commented as you eyed the checkerboard.

“It’s not your fault,” Melanie rolled her eyes, “My mum is just a bit high maintenance and treats me like a child. When I go off to uni next year she’ll probably have a proper breakdown.”

“My mum sure did,” you smiled, “She’d already sent off four boys so I figured she’d be fine sending me off. But I was her baby, so it was far more difficult than we’d both anticipated.”

“You’re shit a checkers,” Melanie responded.

“Oh my gosh watch your mouth,” you faux-scolded.

“Miss Melanie, to what do we owe this pleasure,” Harry smiled upon the elevator dinging open. Melanie instantly went red, clearing her throat and adjusting herself in her seat. You and Harry couldn’t help but smirk at the action. You couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be a teenage girl and have Harry Styles living in your building. Even you got star struck every once in a while.

“I’m grounded,” Melanie stated. “Snuck the boyfriend in and now I can’t go to one of the biggest parties of the year.”

“And I can’t sneak her out or let her past because her mum emailed me specifically and saw I had read it.”

Harry pouted, “The biggest party of the year, huh? Seems a waste to be missing it in your final year.”

“Harry,” you hissed.

“What?” Harry shrugged, “Say I distracted you, yeah? What if Y/N didn’t see Melanie leave. Would be a shame if someone caused a scene that led to Little Miss Future Prime Minister sneaking out for her final days of freedom.”

Melanie’s eyes were wide as she stared between you and Harry, waiting for one of you to make the first move. In the month and a half you’d been working this job, you’d never flat out defied a tenet. Sure, you’d cleaned up some messes or helped them with some issues below the desk, but straight out defying Glenda’s order to keep Melanie in the lobby while she was away on business could get you fired.

“I could get fired.”

“Oh we wouldn’t want that,” Harry shook his head, “You’re the best receptionist we’ve had yet!”

“Definitely,” Melanie nodded, “I never know how amazing coconut water was until you came here.”

“Works wonders for hangovers,” Harry nodded, “Very effective. Plus, you’ve got those pretty teeth that you show whenever you smile. I must thank your orthodontist.”

You rolled your eyes, “Flattery will get you nowhere, Styles.”

Harry sat down next to you in the large armchair, squishing you up against the arm as you groaned. “Y/N,” he said very seriously. His eyes were piercing into yours and you hated that you couldn’t look away. “This is the biggest night of Melanie’s life. One day she’s going to be looking back at her time in school and think, ‘Wow, I’m so grateful for my good ol’ friends Y/N and Harry for letting me go to that party. It completely changed my outlook on life. I exercised all my good judgments and didn’t let any grubby boys near me and didn’t drink whatsoever or try any drugs –”

“We get the point,” Melanie grumbled.

“‘- but I lived, goddamn it!’” Harry cried, standing up now, “And that was the beginning of the greatest career of Melanie’s life!”

“In your head, what exactly is Melanie’s job?” you chuckled.

“Y/N,” Harry got down on one knee and grasped your hands in his. “We have to do this. For Melanie.”

Melanie leaned forward expectantly, awaiting your response. Finally you sighed and caved in. “Who am I to deny the future of Melanie’s spectacular career?”

Melanie cheered as Harry leaned forward and kissed your forehead in excitement. “Okay!” he stood up, clapping his hands together, “I’m going to get Doug. You’re going to need to get a newspaper. I’ll put on a hat, and Melanie,” he turned to the teen, “Put on your best party outfit that modestly covers everything but also makes you feel empowered. You’re getting to that party.”

Without another word, things were set in motion. You weren’t sure why you were getting a newspaper, but you simply pulled one from one of the mailboxes and waited for Melanie and Harry to return. Harry returned first with Doug, who looked very excited to be on her leash, expecting a walk, and Melanie came down much later with a jumper on over her clothes and a smile on her face.

“Here is the deal, ladies,” Harry said, “I have been training Dougie to walk out the door and sit, simply waiting for me to follow. Trying to train her off the leash, you know?”

“Wait, Doug is a girl?” Melanie asked.

Harry ignored her. “So to the cameras, it will simply look like Doug has run away. I will run after and Melanie, being the kind soul you are, you will help me look for her.”

“When in reality Melanie is going to go to the party and Harry is going to take Doug for a late night walk?” you chuckled, “Genius.”

“I quite like to think so,” Harry nodded.

“So why do I have this paper?” you asked, holding up the day’s edition.

“Well because there’s a wonderful article in there about my new single and I figured you’d like to read it,” Harry beamed.

“Unbelievable,” you grumbled.

“So if I just – oops!” Harry cried, dropping the leash and giving a subtle whistle that Doug apparently understand and had her scampering out the door. “Melanie, if you would be so kind as to –”

“I’m on it!” Melanie cried, laughing as she and Harry jogged towards the door.

“Make good choices!” you cried after her, “Be home by 2am!”

“You got it!” Melanie yelled before the lobby was filled with silence once more.

Melanie ended up returning around 1:30am, much to your excitement. Harry followed shortly after, a yawn on his face and a tired, sleepy Doug in his arms.

“How was it?” you asked, having Melanie stop to check on her before going up to her flat. Melanie smiled and started to relay the stories of the party as you gave Harry a slight wave and he made his way sleepily towards the elevator. Sending Melanie off to bed once she’d exhausted herself of story-telling, you couldn’t help but chuckle to think that once again, the residents had surprised you with their abilities to weirdly look after one another.  

You loved it.

Around 6am, you started to pack up your things. You didn’t expect to see Harry at all for a little while, let alone so early after such a late night. But as you finished packing up your schoolwork, the elevator door opened and Harry came out holding little Clancy.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Harry smiled brightly. “Clancy, can you say good morning to Y/N?”

Clancy simply babbled something incoherent. Harry chuckled. “You were close, lovey.”

“What are you doing awake?” you asked in disbelief, “You went to bed hardly five hours ago.”

“I’m a quick sleeper,” Harry smiled, “I almost promised Mrs. Henderson I’d take this little one to the park for the morning. Their babysitter quit.”

“Again?” you groaned. That was the fourth babysitter they’d been through in two months. The two boys truly were terrors when it came to pestering adults. You were lucky they liked you.

“Where are you walking now?” Harry asked, “Home, I presume?”

“I am,” you yawned, “Time to get some rest before class this afternoon.”

“You work too hard,” Harry tsked.

“Says the nonstop workaholic,” you goaded, bumping his arm with your elbow.

“We’ll walk with you,” Harry decided, “Won’t we Clanc?”

Clancy once more babbled something ridiculous. You smiled, “I wouldn’t mind the company.”

The walk was much shorter than Harry anticipated as you took Clancy from him, bopping her around as she giggled. Finally, randomly, you turned to Harry with a smile. “This is me,” you informed him.

As Harry looked up at your building, you suddenly felt self-conscious. It was nothing like the nice building you worked in at night, and you felt a bit ashamed. You watched as Harry’s smooth skin of his forehead wrinkled as he looked back to you.

“You live here love?” he cocked his head quizzically, and also because Clancy was tugging at one of his curls.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, “Student salary,” you shrugged.

“I bet you have a very cozy home,” Harry agreed politely. You reached out and stroked Clancy’s cheek, which was already starting to turn cold in the chilly weather.

“It’s much too cold to go to the park,” you cooed, “I have toys I was planning to bring for Clance in my flat. If you’d like to come up, the two of you can play with the toys and stay warm, drink some tea, and relax.”

Harry seemed to be mulling the offer as he nibbled on his lip. You looked exhausted, and he could see you were impatient to get inside in the chill. The wiggling and whimpering of Clancy broke you both from your reflection of one another, and Harry sighed.

“Alright then Clancy, my darling!” Harry bobbed her on his hip. “Looks like we’re taking a field trip!”

Harry was right about your flat – it was lovely for what you could do with it. Plants were everywhere, happy little succulents, and you had draped tapestries over the somewhat grimy walls.

“Kettle’s on if you –”

“Why don’t you go get some sleep, yeah pet?” Harry asked, “I’ve got this; I promise.”

It didn’t take much convincing for you to retreat to your room, and while you quickly fell asleep, Harry got to work. Your flat was pretty spotless, but you had some dishes in the sink and some laundry was strewn over the back of your couch. As Clancy played with the little toys available to her, Harry set about making you a proper meal, cleaning what he could, and even beginning to knit you a scarf from some yarn and needles he found abandoned next to your couch.

Midday Harry took Clancy back to her parents, but he was quick to come back and check up on you. Knocking softly, you called that it was open already.

“My goodness you shouldn’t keep that unlocked in this building,” Harry scolded. “You never know what hooligans could walk in here!”

“Hooligans such as yourself then?” you placed your hands on your hips as he held up the scarf he’d knit. “I had this yarn set aside to knit something for George.”

“Well, your pretty neck could use a warm hug,” Harry smiled at you. “Sleep well?”

“Did you make me soup?”

Harry noted this was the first time he was seeing you in anything other than your uniform, and he had to admit you looked adorable in your jeans, boots, and baggy sweater that seemed to be consuming your entire being. Your hair, which was usually in a professional ponytail, was falling down your back in a natural and soft manner. It framed your face nicely, and you felt your body humming with embarrassment at Harry’s intense gaze.

“Okay now, I know you’ll probably find this a little odd and I promise it’s not just because I randomly showed up at your flat or because I don’t think you do your job well, but because I have an idea for a job for you upon graduation?”

Harry was rambling, but when wasn’t Harry rambling, if you were being honest, and so that’s the only reason you decided to allow him to talk.

“You have a job opportunity for me?” you asked curiously, “As in, something other than late night lobby babysitter?”

“Be my PA?”

The question was heavy in Harry’s chest, and it weighed heavy in the space between you two. Sure, you saw each other every night and were both a part of each other’s lives. But Harry was asking you to be a part of his life every second of every day. He was asking you to basically uproot your life to follow his, and he knew that this was probably something you hadn’t scheduled whatsoever.

“The pay is good,” Harry started, “And the benefits are pretty nice too. I know you’re studying hospitality and business, and I know that you’re an organized and caring individual who goes above and beyond to find a human gain in your work. I mean, what other lobby receptionist finds the time to buy yarn to knit things for her residents? Or puts her job on the line so one girl can attend one party?”

“That was mostly your idea,” you pointed out.

“Please? Y/N?” Harry asked earnestly. “I really think we could work well together, and I trust you implicitly with my life.”

“That’s pretty ridiculous considering I force tea down your throat whenever you look even a tick too tired,” you chuckled. This made Harry smirk as well, nibbling on his lip as you wrapped the scarf around your neck and let out a long, pensive sigh.

“Do you knit like this often? Would this be a common reoccurrence?”

“I can learn how to make some mittens if you’d like?”

-----

One year later and you were running down an underground hallway under a large stadium in Germany with a bottle of juice in one hand, a shirt under your arm, tablet in the other hand, and a headset practically falling off your head as you ran. There was a peach in your mouth that, even though you were trying not to bite into it, was starting to drip down your chin.

You burst through the dressing room door to find Harry struggling to put some pants on, tripping over his feet and nearly crashing into the back of the couch.

“Lovey!” he cried, smiling at you as you attempted to catch your breath. Sticking your neck out, Harry took the peach from your mouth and chuckled, reaching out and wiping the dribbled peach from your chin with his thumb before liking it.

You were immediately turned on.

“You can’t eat that yet!” you cried as Harry went to take a bit. Tossing the juice, he caught it easily as you snatched the peach back from him and placed it on the table. Grabbing the shirt, you started shoving it over his head as he protested.

“What are you – would you just let me – woman!” Harry cried, stepping away from your grabby hands and placing the rest of the sheer shirt over his broad shoulders. “What are you doing to me?”

“Drink your juice,” you ordered, “Here!” You shoved him down in a seat and grabbed for a brush as you tossed your forgotten tablet onto the couch.

“Y/N,” Harry laughed, “We’re done for the night! You cleared my schedule, remember? I said I wanted some time to –”

“I didn’t clear your schedule for you,” you huffed while trying to get some of the knots out of Harry’s curls at the base of his neck. “How much juice do you have left?”

“I finished it; why are you –”

You reached over him and shoved the peach in his mouth. “Eat.”

“Y/N!” Harry cried as he took the peach from his mouth. “Why are you force feeding me?”

“If you would just sit still,” you grumbled as your heart raced in your chest. “And let me take care of you then you would let me explain what’s going on!”

“Okay fine let’s make a deal, shall we?” Harry suggested, “How about I eat this peach and while I’m eating it you tell me what the hell has you so riled up, yeah?”

“Fine,” you sighed and started flipping through his closet for the correct jacket for him to wear. “You’ve been down the past couple weeks and obviously I noticed – everyone has noticed – and so I figured it was because someone wasn’t here. And so I cleared your schedule and let you know you had the time off tonight so you wouldn’t plan anything so you’d be free. Basically, in order to cheer you up I invited Violeta to come and see you and she’s on her way here right now and I want you look presentable and be well fed and hydrated and –”

“Wait wait stop,” Harry stood up as you turned back to face him with the dark jacket in your hands.

“Did you finish eating?” you asked meeting his eyes with a crazed expression.

“Y/N,” Harry said softly, “You – why did you invite Violeta?”

“Because you’ve been sad,” you shrugged, “And tired. And I figured seeing the girl you like that you’ve missed and spending the weekend with her would give you some energy and make you feel better.”

Harry stared at you as you stood there with the jacket clutched tightly in your hands. Over the past year as his PA, you’d become Harry’s little shadow and voice of reason. You took care of everything for him unless he said he would take care of it himself, and even then you double checked his work and made adjustments you knew he’d like. You spent every waking minute together, and sometimes some sleeping minutes as well.

You’d basically moved into his penthouse in London, so you still got to see your favorite residents whenever you did your work down in the lobby. You had a guest room that Harry suggested you stay in whenever you worked late, or had an early morning for travel, but you still always felt like you were intruding so you spent majority of your time down in the lobby amongst friends instead.

It hurt Harry a little bit, knowing you didn’t want to stay with him, but you would always come back up at the end of the night and that was enough for him.

You were kind and considerate, and you were best of friends with his mum and sisters so that raised huge brownie points whenever they were in town or came to see him on tour. You were firm when you needed to be, and calm and soothing every other time.

“Have you slept recently?” Harry asked, “You’re going insane.”

“I’m not insane!” you cried, “Harry, it’s obvious you’ve been stressed! You mentioned to me the other day when I asked what was bothering you what was going on and you said you missed Violeta. So I called her and helped her rearrange her schedule and I made some adjustments on yours and now she’s going to be here any minute!”

Harry groaned and ran a hand down his face. “Y/N …”

“What?” you stopped mid-step with your arms extended as you offered him the jacket. Harry just looked frustrated now, and immediately you felt responsible. It was impossible to not become attached to the happy lad once you had devoted your life to him. This was still the best job you’d ever had and you felt like you were fully prepared after your schooling. But it was becoming harder and harder to spend time around him and see him hurting when you knew your feelings were anything but professional.

“I did something wrong,” you offered, knowing full well that you’d overstepped a boundary. “Oh God.”

“No, Y/N it’s fine. Thank you. I really appreciate it – honest,” Harry said earnestly. He took a step forward and you cleared your throat, taking a step back and holding the jacket out higher between the two of you almost using it as a shield.

“Y/N …” Harry warned.

“I’m so sorry Harry,” you groaned, “I was just trying to –”

“I know pet,” Harry nodded, “And I am very excited to see V. Thank you for noticing I wasn’t doing well. It’ll be good to spend some time with her.”

“Really? You mean that?” you asked, biting your lip.

“Of course love.” Harry reached forward and took the jacket from you, grasping your hand and pulling you towards him so he could give you a kiss on the forehead. “Now I think it’s time you get some sleep, don’t you think?”

“I have some paperwork to go over for tomorrow’s press event, and there’s the luncheon tomorrow that I need to cancel so you can have some time to –”

“Leave it,” Harry waved his hand, “Go on. Get some rest or I’m firing you.”

You pursed your lips and gave Harry a look, “You’ve been threatening to fire me since month three.”

“And the threat still stands,” Harry chuckled, “Now go.”

“Enjoy Violeta,” you gave him the most sincere smile you could muster. “She’s very excited.”

Once the door clicked closed behind you, Harry tumbled onto the couch with a groan. He’d been entertaining Violeta for a couple months now to distract from the fact that he very much was starting to fall for his cute little PA. He knew it wasn’t professional, and yet he thought about you all the time when you weren’t together. And when you were together, which was literally 23 out of the 24 hours a day usually, then he was always admiring you or being distracted by your grace.

The soft knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts as Violeta poked her head in, followed by sliding past the door and placing her hands on her hips. “What gives Styles?” she asked, “I get these frantic calls from Y/N saying you miss me? I need to come right away? I thought you were going to talk to her.”

Harry groaned again. “I was meanin’ to,” he sighed, “But she went behind my back. Thinks ‘m sad because I miss ya when in reality it’s because I’m in love with her and can’t tell her.”

“Obviously,” Violeta plopped down on the couch, “But none of us would be able to say no to her, so here I am.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry reached out for her hand and wove his fingers with hers. Violeta was a sweet girl, and Harry appreciated confiding in her when he had the chance. She was a nice kisser too, if he was being honest.

“Want a distraction or do you want to talk?” she asked softly.

Harry hummed, “Maybe a bit of both. She had this peach in her mouth – looked mighty cute. Obviously it turned me on.”

Violeta chuckled and slung her leg lazily over Harry’s lap as she pulled him into her, their chests bumping lazily as their lips met. She wove her fingers through Harry’s hair and he moaned, closing his eyes as he wondered what your fingers would feel like against his scalp.

He actually knew what they would feel like, because you massaged his head whenever he seemed too stressed, and you would do it without question. It usually caught him off guard and then he would hum at the feeling, sinking against your body as you lulled him into a peaceful sleep.

But this was much less innocent, and Harry gripped Violeta’s hips tighter as he felt himself grow harder under her as he thought of you.

Barking, mixed with hushed cries, broke through the door as Doug came barreling into the dressing room, getting past the door Violeta hadn’t closed all the way.

“Doug!” you cried, scurrying in after the pup to grasp the leash that had gotten away from you. Your eyes locked on the couple tangled together on the couch, on Harry’s flushed cheeks and sex blown eyes, and you gulped. You’d never actually seen Harry and Violeta doing anything, but they were always together and Harry had mentioned they might be becoming something maybe.

But actually seeing the two of them so intimate made your stomach flip uncomfortably like a tidal wave, and you quickly averted your eyes as Harry sat up to collect his dog.

“Aw girl you’re a mess,” Harry cooed, scratching behind Doug’s ears. “Sorry Daddy was busy princess! Y/N will take you back to your bed, yeah?”

“Right sorry,” you muttered quickly, still averting your eyes as you grasped the leash and basically dragged Doug out of the room, slamming the door behind you. Harry flopped back on the couch as Violeta watched his reaction. Palms of his hands kneading at his eyes, he grumbled, “Christ,” before knowing he’d maybe truly messed up this time.

There was only one quick flight back to London, which was way too early for there to be conversation anyway. Not that Harry didn’t notice the tension, and not that you didn’t purposefully sit by yourself in the corner curled up in a blanket of the jet.

You knew it was stupid, and you knew you needed to get over it if you wanted to keep your job. It wasn’t professional the way you were acting, and even though you felt slightly justified in the way that you were moping – by yourself without impacting anyone else – you still knew you couldn’t feel this way for Harry and be around him devoting your life to him the way that you were.

“Do you want to come back to mine?” Harry asked as the car pulled up at the jet. You chewed your lip as you let out a long breath through your nose. There wasn’t really any other way to get home and you really needed to continue saving money for God knows what, bills and such, and so you didn’t want to pay for an Uber.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, “Yeah I guess.”

Harry gave you a dopey smile, happy to know you were able to talk to him, before slinging his bag over his shoulder and holding out his other arm for you to duck under. He was a touchy person, you were used to this, but his intentions recently whenever you were both close was starting to make you itchy with sweat and nerves. Still, you rolled your bag behind you and let out a yawn as Harry squeezed your shoulder lovingly.

Stepping into the foyer of the building, it was like coming home (even though it definitely wasn’t your home). But it was a home, Harry’s home specifically, but the lobby was more your turf and the instant you saw George sitting there, pipe in his mouth and paper in his hands you felt your shoulders loosen the tension.

“Y/N!” he smiled, “Harry m’boy! How are we? It’s been a while since I’ve seen the two of you around.”

You smiled and bent down to give George a kiss on the cheek. “It’s good to see you as well George. I hope you’re doing well.”

“I’m doing much better now that you’re here,” George grasped your hands in his. “The new receptionist is a piece of shite.”

“George!” Harry laughed, “Henry is doing is best! Not all uni students are as dedicated as our dear Y/N.”

“You are the finest,” George nodded, “The twins were asking for you the other day after they got home from their futbol practice, and Melanie is home next weekend from her first year at uni if you’d like to maybe stick around? I’m sure she would be just ecstatic to see you,” George smiled.

“We can have her up for tea,” Harry nodded, wrapping his arm back around you. “Sorry to take this one from you George, but I’ve got a tired girly and a tired pup here ready for some sleep.” As if one cue, little Doug whimpered and nudged at your leg. George gave your hand a kiss before squeezing it and allowing you to stand up fully again.

“Well it was lovely to see you both again. You both truly belong here. You make this place home,” he nodded.

“Oh George you’re making me blush,” you joked, winking at him before Harry started to lead you towards the elevator.

“You’re laying it on thick there, darling,” Harry chuckled, “I didn’t know elderly art criminals were your type.”

“Alleged art criminals,” you confirmed, “You can’t prove anything.”

Harry simply gave you a soft smile before looking down at his phone. “Did you get my emails on the flight?”

“Your checklist for tomorrow is already set in your calendar and I canceled your morning radio show with Nick, because honestly you’re exhausted and you look like shit and I’m sure Nick will understand.”

“I’m sure he gave you a hard time,” Harry rubbed his forehead tiredly.

“Well he seemed pleasantly excited about it, honestly,” you shrugged, “Said he was happy you were taking some time off … with me? Said he was happy you were finally growing a pair and letting me take some time off.”

The elevator doors dinged open and Harry seemed to be lost in thought. He was stuck in the elevator, staring off into the distance in deep thought. “Come on then,” you chuckled reaching over and grasping his hand in yours before pulling him into the pent house.

“You want noodles?” you asked, tossing your stuff onto the couch knowing full well he wanted noodles. Harry always wanted noodles, and ever since you’d bought him the pasta machine and gave him your nana’s noodle recipe he’d been begging you day in and day out to make the noodles for you.

“There’s still some in the fridge,” Harry mumbled, “Did Nick really say that?”

“Say what?” You were already beyond this conversation as you fiddled through Harry’s fridge – the fridge you stocked on the daily as his personal assistant.

“That it’s a good thing I’m finally giving you time off?”

You looked up to see Harry standing at the kitchen counter pouting while chomping on the carrot sticks you’d put out for him. “Do I … have you ever felt …” Harry cleared his throat and took a sip of water. “Have you ever missed out on anything in life because you’re hanging out with me? Working for me?”

You frowned as you tossed the noodles into a bowl with the pesto you’d made for him last week. You scoffed before turning and placing the bowls in the microwave.

“Y/N,” Harry whined, “This is serious.”

“You’re asking me if I’ve missed out on life because I’m doing my job?” you put your hands on your hips. “Tell me, Harry, was I ever missing out on life when I was spending every night here sitting behind a desk warming up tea for you and helping you sort your mail?”

“I just –”

“Harry, you gave me a job,” you gave him a soft smile, “I’m not missing out on anything. My life is your life.”

Harry groaned, “Not much of a life when you’re here in my kitchen making noodles.”

You rolled your eyes, “My God, Harry, would you stop being so dramatic. Nick makes one comment and suddenly you’re screwing around having an internal debate? It’s been a year and now you’re suddenly questioning whether you’ve given me enough time off? You spent Easter with my family.”

“I love your family,” Harry mumbled, “They were very nice to Doug.”

“Too nice to Doug,” you chuckled, “My mum literally fed her every hour on the hour.”

The microwave went off and Harry reached behind you to grab some utensils. “Can we cuddle and eat noodles now?” he pouted, “You’ve been distant, and I know it’s probably because you walked in on me and Violeta but I promise nothing was actually happening. I was just lonely and heartbroken and she’s very sweet but –”

“Heartbroken?” you cut him off, both hot bowls of noodles in your hands as you stared him down. “Harry did someone hurt you?”

Harry grasped the bowl from your hand and mumbled, “Shut up,” before making his way to the couch.

“Harry!” you called, “We should talk about this! Is there anyone I should take off the guest list of events? Someone I should keep from seeing you? I can change your entire schedule if you need to –”

“Y/N,” Harry breathed, turning and facing you on the couch, “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N baby you need to relax!” he cooed, “It’s fine.”

“It’s just a crush?” Now you were intrigued – because you were Harry’s PA and had to take care of him, obviously, not any other reason. Scooting forward, Harry groaned and stuffed some noodles in his mouth.

“Nice try sweets,” he smirked, “You’re not getting that information out of me.”

“Is it Violeta? You say you don’t like her but –”

“My God,” Harry cried out, “The only thing I want you to do right now is eat your noodles, enjoy them, and also please pencil in Melanie for sometime for tea next weekend.”

“You have three interviews and a studio session next weekend.”

Harry gave you a pointed look. “Melanie is family. Without us, she wouldn’t have had a fun party life in sixth form. We’re basically her party parents and I want to hear about all the fun she’s getting up to in uni now.”

“Safe fun,” you reminded him.

“Yes of course. Safe fun.”

You watched as Harry fiddled with his noodles, swirling them around the bowl. “You really care about the people here, don’t you?”

Harry shrugged, “I cling to people. I attach myself to them in because I need a family around me to feel safe, I guess. But yeah … something about the people in this building is just really special.”

“I think so too,” you smiled, “Best job I ever had.”

“Better than the one you have now?”

“I don’t know, my boss is pretty demanding,” you joked.

“You brought this building together,” Harry informed you, nudging you with his spoon. “Seriously, you did. Before you spent your nights with us we basically just said hi to each other in the lobby and that was it. But now George sits there and waits for the twins to come home, and Melanie babysits Clancy and walked Dougie when I can’t.”

“You’re just saying that because you want me to keep working for you.”

“I’m saying it because my life changed the minute you started making me tea and now that you’re making my schedules, my life all kind of fits together.”

“Then give me a raise,” you joked.

“Done.”

“No I was just –”

“I’ve basically taken your life from you,” Harry chuckled, “It’s the least I can do.”

“You haven’t taken anything from me,” you groaned, “I’m here because I love you, you idiot. I’d make you a thousand schedules a day if it meant getting to spend every day with you.”

“Nights just weren’t enough, huh?” Harry knew he was getting a bit cocky, but his praise kink was kicking in and his narcissistic wires in his brain were going haywire.

“I guess not.” Your body was tingling, and your senses were heightened as Harry leaned in and gave you a bright smile.

“Nights weren’t enough for me either. It’s why I nabbed ya away. I’m too selfish.”

“Well I’m glad,” you nodded, “It’s been a great year.”

“To many more to come?” Harry asked offering his bowl for the two of you to clink in celebration.

“If you’ll have me.”

“I’ll always ‘ave ya. Want ya all the time.”

Harry watched as your eyebrows furrowed and you cocked your head slightly. “Want me?”

Harry sucked in a breath and set down his bowl on the table in front of the two of you. “‘M heartbroken, remember?”

Lost for words, you simply cleared your throat. “I’m your PA. I … I live in a small flat with one room and a little kitchen. I eat Ramen most nights you’re eating steak and –”

“Y/N …”

“ – I work the lobby and you live up here in the penthouse,” you finished, “You can’t honestly –”

“Oh I do,” Harry nodded, “I do a lot. ‘S why I bring Violeta around so much, because I can’t think about wanting to be with you all day when you’re my little PA running around bringing my life together.”

“Harry …”

“I know, I know,” he groaned, “How could I tell you like this over noodles? It just spilled out. I guess I got jealous seeing you flirt with George down there; I thought he was gonna take you from me.”

“No one is going to take you from me,” you shook your head and scooted forward.

“I’m thinking Doug might really need a mum, you know, a maternal figure in his life?” Harry whispered with his lips barely brushing against yours. “She’s going to need a strong female figure and I think you’d make a mighty fine mum.”

“She is a sweet pup,” you nodded, “Being a single dad must be difficult.”

“So difficult,” Harry whispered as his fingers dug into your hair, swirling around and tugging you forward slightly.

“Who am I to deny a cute puppy?” you hummed.

“Don’t deny me,” Harry basically pleaded before his lips pressed to yours gruffly, anxiously, and with an aggression you had never seen him kiss anyone with before. You were immediately crawling into his lap, digging your fingers into his shoulders and up to his head as you held him close to you.

His lips were hot, and you both tasted like buttery noodles and pesto, but his fingers were like warm sparks against your skin as he hiked up your shirt and dug his fingers into whatever he could get a hold of.

You seemed to be doing the same as you pulled away to be able to breathe. Harry let out a low whimper as you hot lips sucked down his neck, nipping at his collarbones as Harry couldn’t control himself and bucked his hips up against you as you gasped against his skin.

“Harry …” you moaned, “We … we shouldn’t. You need sleep,” you huffed as Harry buried his lips into the crook of your neck and nuzzled in as if he were hibernating for the winter, never wanting to leave.

“Stay,” he whispered, “Please.”

“I would be an awful dog mum if I left,” you joked.

“Y/N,” Harry whined.

“I’ll stay,” you nodded, “I’ll stay.”

“Forever,” Harry groaned, head lulling back to the back of the couch as you giggled and kissed up his exposed neck.

“I really like you, Y/N,” Harry admitted, “Love you, honestly. Love you a lot. Love you really more than anyone else at this point. Don’t tell Dougie that though.”

“I won’t tell,” you smiled as you felt your eyes filling with tears, “I love you too, Harry. I’ve loved you since you walked into the lobby for the first time with a cupcake because I looked tired.”

“I made those cupcakes so fast,” Harry smirked and reached up, running his fingers through your hair and twisting the ends around the tips of his fingers. “Saw you sitting there and you smiled at me … God, breathtaking. And I ran up and made those cupcakes.”

You laughed and swatted at his chest. “You told me they’d been sitting around for ages! Didn’t want to waste them!”

“Didn’t want to waste any time away from you,” Harry shrugged, “Wanted every excuse to see you.”

“You’re so fucking cute,” you groaned, “But that doesn’t mean I’m canceling your dentist appointment.” Starting to get off Harry’s lap, his groan turned to a laugh.

“Nothing gets past you,” he called after you, “Where are you going?”

You turned around and pulled your shirt over your head, looking suggestively (as sexily as you could muster) over your shoulder. “Well I’m going to bed,” you shrugged, “Thought you wanted me to stay?”

Harry’s eyes widened and seemed to sparkle as he nearly tripped over his feet to get up and follow you. Stumbling, he gripped at your skin as if he were drunk, drunk on you, and clung to you desperately.

“Yes,” he whispered, “Stay.”

Something told you that even though you didn’t work in this building anymore, you were going to be spending quite a lot of time here still. You, Harry, and you happy lobby family … and Doug, of course.

-----

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[raifuujin]

Okay, I have some feelings about the Layton fandom. And just as a warning: They aren’t good, so don’t keep reading if you’re not ready to see a rant. There’s the classic response of ‘not everyone in the fandom’, but just. There are major problems.

1) It feels like, unless you are a Layton blog, post a lot of original Layton content, or say things that 90% of the fandom agrees with, your voice won’t matter. I rarely see reblog chains, and when I do, it’s from people who are clearly already connected in the fandom. There’s no real discussion, it’s just ‘hey, this’ and sometimes people agreeing. Unless you already have a leg up in the fandom, it does feel inaccessible.

And it doesn’t help that...

2) People abuse the anonymity of the confessions blog. And by ‘abuse’, I do not mean hide behind it when they have unpopular opinions. That’s normal for confession blogs that I’ve seen. But when people put something out there, it feels like with this fandom, someone else inevitably sends something directly in response to another confession. Many times attacking the other opinion, and giving full validation for why people don’t feel like they can post their own opinions themselves. After seeing so many ugly responses to opinions that were already hiding behind a blog unaffiliated with them, and character discourse and ship disagreements, I’m amazed anyone ever does post their own thoughts in the tag.

My thoughts to the recent confession that was expressing concern over not wanting to post in case of discourse being immediately followed by a ‘what discourse, there’s no discourse unless you’re a racist or fucking pedo, so guess you showed your hand on that’?

First off:

Person who responded: You’re part of the problem. That sort of attack is exactly the reason people don’t want to take part in the fandom. Even if you weren’t aware of other possible disagreements that come up that aren’t about race or pedophiles. (Spoiler: There’s a lot. Just look through the confessions blog, you’ll see terrible confession wars about all kinds of other stuff. You’ve just called someone terrible things because of your narrow mindset on what could start ‘discourse’.)

Fun fact: I personally hate the fandom trope of thinking Luke would be better off adopted by Layton. Not because I don’t think the two work well together and are clearly close, but because of how it’s written more than half the time. Abusive parents or Luke overall hating Clark and Brenda, or the implication that they don’t care about him. Sometimes, you can use the argument of things being before knowing Luke did have parents. But post Last Specter, it still persists, and is overall terrible.

That is something that is my opinion. A good half of the fandom subscribes to the idea that Layton being Luke’s father would be the best, regardless of the fact he’s one of the few characters with parents that are seen, living, and care about him. I never posted that opinion before because I know it probably would not be taken too well overall in the fandom that exists.

I used to make amvs for Layton. Maybe I still will in some distant future. But for now, when I have the motivation and energy to make an amv, I prefer putting it into a series and fandom I know will appreciate content and that I feel is more welcoming. Right now, the only reason I keep up with the tag (as best I can) is to check for any news. So I do see the issues with the fandom, and I’m content not to be a part of it and just happily wait for Layton’s Mystery Journey to come to the 3DS.

No fandom is perfect, so I wish some people in Layton’s would stop acting like theirs is. When I first came to tumblr, I never expected that the Layton fandom would be the one I see get so toxic. Who would want to actively participate in a fandom that is so closed off, set in their ways, and has so much problematic behavior?

It didn’t used to be like this.

[welcometophu]

Extra: Tower Comes Crashing Down

When I first set up the various trilogies of PHU, they were designed as trilogies of stories that pull together one overarching plotline, while each book focuses on a different POV character. For the second book in the Twinned trilogy (yes, that name means something), we shift away from Alaric to Carolyn. We’ve met Carolyn briefly already: she’s Drea’s Big Sister in the sorority.

This story is a wee interlude to introduce you a bit more closely to Carolyn and her twin Kit, and takes place over the new year and holiday break, between Twinned #1: Commit to the Kick and Twinned #2: Missed Fortunes.

Tower Comes Crashing Down

No one killed anyone, so it went better than I expected. Mom drove us back to PHU yesterday. I’m staying with Rory at Thorne’s. Ric’s at OPT.

Carolyn touches her phone screen, her original message to Drea staring back at her. How are you? How was your holiday? Do you want a reading for the new year?

It’s impossible to miss the fact that Drea avoided the last question.

How about you? Drea continues. I sent you a text about coming back for the pop-up house show thing that Rory and Thorne are doing tonight, but you never answered. Did I send you a picture of Stormy? You’d like her.

Carolyn switches into the stream of pictures from their texts, and touches the one that shows Drea, Corbin, and a smiling woman.

She’s cute, she responds to Drea, because she knows that’s the expected answer. Her Little keeps trying to fix her up, sending a steady stream of pictures to Carolyn’s phone. It’s not going to happen.

A sharp rap on the door; Kit doesn’t wait for an answer before barging in and flopping on the end of her bed. “Dad says we’re leaving for Aunt Elena’s in an hour, and that not going is not an option,” he tells her. “Which, let me tell you, it’s going to be a joy spending my start to the new year getting dead named every time I turn around.” He grumbles under his breath. “They all apologize, but it’s been three years since it became official. They should be able to figure it out by now.”

“Elena’s halfway to senile, Barb’s brain was scrambled by that Ritual right before you transitioned,” Carolyn reminds him. “And Matthew’s just an asshole. We won’t even talk about Brenda.”

“If holier-than-thou were an Olympic sport, Brenda would win gold without trying,” Kit mutters. “She’s had affairs. Do you think Matthew knows?”

“We don’t have proof, only what the cards say,” Carolyn says. “And it’s possible they’re poly. Or have an open marriage. Or maybe Matthew can’t get it up and he knows Brenda….” She trails off when Kit shakes his head.

“If they were open, I wouldn’t care, But it wouldn’t be hidden in the cards if Matthew knew,” Kit points out. “She’s just that kind of person who’ll yell at you for something while doing it herself, and Matthew thinks she’s so perfect he can’t even see the flaws. How did we end up in such a fucked up family?”

“Doesn’t everyone have a fucked up family?” Carolyn reaches for the wrapped deck on her nightstand, spills the cards into her hands and starts shuffling. Her phone pings again, but she just nudges it aside; Drea will still be around later when Carolyn can text again. “I’m pretty sure we’re not above quota on our level of messed up.” She holds out the deck, offering it. “I’m reading for you before we head out, right?”

“Read for yourself first.” Kit crosses his arms tight over his chest; Carolyn wonders what’s got him on the defense.

“Would you rather read for yourself?” She shuffles the cards again, the sound of them sliding together soothing to her ears. She stops, sets the deck on the bed, and cuts it twice. “I’m not going to be insulted.”

“It’s tradition for you to do it.” Kit scratches at his ear. “Besides. Every time I read lately I swear it’s for someone else. And I don’t mean in that it’s for my past self sort of way. I mean, it’s literally for someone else. I don’t think I’m ever going to be a strong Predictive Talent. And you know why.”

“There have been guys in our Lineage.” Carolyn collects the cards back together, lays out ten in formation, murmuring under her breath as each card falls on the comforter. She inhales, looks at the card and tries to take in the reading as a single thing, tries to let her Talent come into play to interpret it.

“No one recent,” Kit counters. “It goes a long way toward explaining why I was never any good at it.”

Carolyn glances over at her twin. “Wrong. You were always good at reading for yourself, just not for anyone else.”

“And I still can’t do a reading for someone specific, and now when I try to read for myself, it’s like it belongs to someone else. I can usually even figure out who, after the fact,” Kit mutters dryly. “So we’ll just say I’m not particularly Predictive and leave it at that. I think I’m going to look into Ritual more with Professor Szczek spring semester. I want to set up an independent study course with him, if he has time. I’m declaring a minor.”

“Mm.” Carolyn’s attention is drawn back to the cards. They pull her in, and she touches each one, feels the energy lingering behind them. “It’s a future ruled by the practical and the heart, at the same time, as well as a lot of things outside of my control.” Her gaze narrows, falling on certain cards. “Remember how I told you I did that reading for Drea’s twin, Alaric?”

“Yeah, why?”

“There are three of the same cards in my reading,” Carolyn says slowly. “One in the exact same place. And two cards that are similar enough to be significant, especially when I consider positioning. It’s close enough to be important.”

“I can’t believe you remember his reading that perfectly.”

She glances sideways, pokes Kit with her toe. “I remember them all. That’s part of being Predictive. You really don’t?”

“I remember that when I was seven I laid down the Tower covering me, and I got up from the desk, walked over to Mom, and said I shouldn’t be doing this because I’m a boy and well, that was a nice bit of self-fulfilling prophecy.” Kit shrugs. “The cards have been strange for me ever since, which is why I get random readings about our holier-than-thou aunt.”

“Mm.” There’s something to his statement, and it isn’t as if Carolyn doesn’t know. But it’s not something they talk about all the time, either. She just wants to let Kit live his life.

Her fingers drift over the first two cards. “I’m trapped in a place of the mundane. Simple, repetitive work, over and over again. And it’s about to come crashing down around my ears.”

“Gotta love the Tower,” Kit mutters, and Carolyn nudges him lightly. “Change and chaos,” he elaborates. “That’s all I’m saying.”

“I’m coming from a place of contentment. A picture perfect life.” Carolyn trails her fingers from the near past, through the Tower until she lands on Judgment, staring at her from the position of near future. “That picture perfect life is gone.”

“My fault?”

“Oh, hell, no.” Carolyn climbs sideways to hug her brother, tackling him down. The cards bounce on the bed, some falling to the floor, but she doesn’t care. She knows where they were, and Kit’s far more important. “Just because the Tower’s chaos is how your change started doesn’t mean that you are causing my chaos.” She kisses him with a smack on the cheek. “You’re my best brother, and you always have been.”

She slides down to the floor, takes the cards with her and neatly lays them out again. Kit settles in next to her, leaning against her shoulder as he looks at the cards with her.

“Transformation,” Carolyn says. “The exact same card in the exact same place as Alaric had.”

“Didn’t he turn into a dragon?” Kit asks.

Carolyn huffs. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure that’s not going to happen to me. But something’s changing in a major way, and it has to break up the mundane to get there. And it’s a positive change according to this, a restructuring of energy based on… illusion. Envy. Jealousy.” She wrinkles her nose. “I don’t get it.”

“You could be getting this wrong.”

“Hah, I’m never wrong.” She might play down her abilities around others, but Carolyn trusts her Talent. She might not be able to figure out what the cards are telling her right now, but they are telling her something true, and it’s important. It’ll be clear, once she figures it out.

“Right, moving on. So. I see the world as bland and dull—this card was in Alaric’s reading too, it was the thing fighting against him. Apparently this time I’m fighting against myself.” Carolyn licks her lips, picks up the next card. “The Prince of Cups, who was also in Alaric’s spread. He was Alaric’s support, but for me, he’s my friends and family. Someone who’s clever and bright. Cunning. I could probably come up with an entire list of guys like that—if it even definitely means a guy—and I have no idea which one or why. And what does it mean that you see it. Why do you care about this?”

“I’m not your only friends and family.” Kit knocks in her shoulder lightly. “You’ve got plenty of family here, not to mention your Sisters at school. You and your Little are close.”

“If this is Drea’s perspective, it could be the same guy as in Alaric’s reading,” Carolyn murmurs, setting the card down. “This one makes me wonder—Alaric was the King of Swords for his hopes and fears, and I’m the Princess of Swords. Similar, but not exactly the same. Close enough to have some meaning of looking inside ourselves. For me, something about being used. Sickness, a dark purpose. Definitely not a hope on my part, and I’d rather not be controlled by anything. Heather and I have some pretty damned clear limits.”

“You chose to live with an Empath.”

“And she keeps out of my head.” Carolyn flips the card over, not wanting to look at it; it gives her a squirrelly feeling down her spine. “It’s all going to come out okay, in the end. Everything is dispatched neatly, tied up the way its supposed to be. Almost like it goes back to being mundane, only with an extra added dose of high pleasure.”

“So.” Kit leans back against the bed, his knees bent, hands resting atop them. “You start out mundane, your entire world turns upside down, you meet a cute, cunning guy, then get used, and end up being happy about it all when it works out.”

Carolyn’s heart hitches. “I am not fond of that middle part. Nice guy or girl, fine. Being used? Not fine.”

A sharp rap on the door, their father’s voice calling out, “Thirty minute warning.”

Kit sweeps up the cards, starts shuffling them easily. “Just enough time to read for me. You know you’re only getting half the picture, because you’re only half the whole.” He stacks the cards, cuts them, and hands them to her. “Go on. Tell my story. I want to know what we’re getting into this year.”

Everyone has a ritual for the new year, this one belongs to Carolyn and her twin. She covers the cards on his hand, squeezes for a moment before she takes them. “Whatever comes this year, it’ll be better than the evening at Aunt Elena foreshadows. I promise.”

Whatever the cards say, it’ll be a good year. Carolyn’s determined that it has to be.