#so technically with the number of birthdays he's had he's going to be turning 16 lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

angelisverba · 3 years

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thinkin’ bout you

in which harry owns a flower shop and has a major crush on a girl who comes in to buy flowers every once in a while (and he’s too shy to ask for her number)

word count: 17.3k

paring: florist!h and y/n

warnings: just some pinning and lustful yearning. m for mature...

author’s note: i’ve been working on this forever. not to pick fav’s but i think florist!h comes second to sl23... hes just so.......well, you’ll see!!

* * * * * *

When Harry was given the option to go on a playdate with his car-loving and dirty-nailed schoolmates or spending the weekend at his nan’s house, he would often pick the latter.

He preferred to spend his afternoons frolicking with her Siamese kitty in her wild-flower filled garden, sunbathing in the open grass, or napping on a quilted blanket under the large, round oak tree, with the kitty nestled into his tummy, keeping him warm. When he woke in the arms of his nan as she carried him inside the house for a glass of cool lemonade, he bore a band of pink sunburn over his button nose, and the blue and white striped Mickey shirt was sticking to the areas where his furry friend had provided an extra heat.

So, it was safe to say that from the start, Harry’s tastes weren’t what could be considered ‘average’ or ‘normal’ or ‘straight’ for a heterosexual male of his age in current society.

Not that he ever valued those opinions, but their impressions rang in the back of his loving head when the women who he brought to the comfort of his home made hurtful ‘joking’ comments on how ‘peculiar’ his choice of decor was or giving him prolonged strange looks before shaking their heads and yanking their clothes off so that they landed in a forgotten heap in some unimportant corner of his room.

Granted, he still got a good shag, but it wasn’t enough to fulfill his desires regarding any actions associated with relationships. He wanted someone warm and soft and kind. Someone who wouldn’t judge his home, his music choices, his clothing, or anything else about him. A girlfriend, not a fuck.

Long ago, he’d stopped caring about what others said about him. Adopting this mindset had given him some of the happiest and healthiest moments of his life (albeit occasionally, doubts merged with the ghastly shadows of his loneliness). Business at his flower shop increased as his charm increased with positivity, and a new life within him bloomed like a baby rose bud when he accepted that being single was okay. The ribbons of his bouquets bouncing with an added umf and the mist that landed on his skin when he changed the water in the flower buckets only enhanced the golden hue of his skin.

Harry even took to renovating his home a bit.

Coincidentally, his apartment was located on the floor above his flower stop, and contained a significant amount of singular flowers in vases or bouquets in empty corners to prove it. An array of pastel colors smeared on the once blank walls. Bambi pink in his bedroom, sage green in his kitchen, and a French blue in his living room. The couch was a suede papaya three-seater with black and white checkered pillows, and the coffee table was an emerald-tiled piece standing on top of a geometric lavender carpet, a soft contrast against the dark oak of his floorboards. Harry’s taste in pop-culture, art, and literature was displayed on the frames hanging off his walls. Pictures and posters of his favorite pieces like Matisse’s Blue Nudes and Goldfish and The Dance II. An enhanced, enlarged photo of maraschino cherries and a raven haired pin-up girl. Another glass table by the end of the couch held a silver candlestick and a small statue.

Sometimes, the miniature Greek statue he bought at a thrift store of a man with his nakedness pure and unobscured to the viewers' eyes made his dick bloat against the seams of his pants. If he stared at it for too long, his eyes drawn to the softened cock between thighs that looked so flesh-like even though it was carved out of some clay or ceramic material, his mind would travel to sensual, honey-red places that he hadn’t been in so long. Harry’s imagination explored- as cheesy as it sounds- the sexual aspects of the male genitalia, and therefore his own sexual expeditions and how much he missed giving or receiving a good fuck. More often than not, he ended up with himself in his fist, forehead sparkling with perspiration under the candle lights in his room as his thighs and abdomen clenched with every buck of his yearning hips.

The doorknob of his room was in the shape of an eye, the iris colored a brilliant blue. His king bed- no, frame, just a minimalist white base, pushed up against the wall with two tables on either side, both of them loaded articulately with vintage trinkets and ceramic ring trays shaped like seashells to hold his jewelry. His bedsheets were a stylish combination of pastel colors; lilac comforter, mint and sky pillows. Previously, they had been snow white sheets with strawberry print, but a woman he brought over said they looked like the sheets her five-year-old niece had.

He changed them the week after that.

On the windowsill, a pot in the shape of a white, blue-eyed kitty with vines of string of hearts kissing the floor. A mirror in the shape of a heart with a pink trim besides the lightswitch, above his brown dresser. In the corner, a bookshelf stuffed with books that spilled over the seams, and perpendicular to it, the home of his pet chameleon, Owen (he wanted a cat, but when he went to the pet store and saw the dehydrated creature, he couldn’t leave him there). A 16 x 16 x 30 inch tank filled with a branch that cut across halfway. It was full of all the things he might need, maybe even too much of it, but it didn’t matter because when Harry was home Owen spent most of his time hanging off the collars of his shirts or snuggled in the ruffles of his hooded sweatshirt on his shoulder. The small, color changing friend adored his owner, and only morphed into a mild red color when Harry didn’t feed him more mango.

The renovations occurred in his bathroom; a cherry-red covering the walls because it looked boring before (at least in his opinion). The gold piping of the sink accentuated nicely with the darker color, and the sun seemed brighter when it streamed in through the window above his ceramic claw-footed tub. Owen particularly liked the misty showerhead stall in the corner, and as long as he kept his eyes to himself, Harry didn’t mind it if his green friend wrapped around the showerhead and enjoyed the mimicked tropical atmosphere.

For awhile now, it had been just him and his chameleon (and maybe his mum’s cat if she was going out of town and needed a sitter) but he didn’t mind it.

He got to meet new people everyday within the parameters of H’s Garden, and they all tended to overshare when it came to buying a bouquet. ‘My wife just had our son, want to see a picture?’ or ‘my boyfriend and I have our anniversary on Saturday’ and even ‘my sister had plastic surgery so me and my dad need something that says ‘congrats you look like Kim Kardashain now’ how ‘bout it?’

Stories ranged from sweet, to grotesque, to sad, to funny, and sometimes even evil- Harry didn’t like customers that gave flowers as a ‘fuck you’. He thought it was a waste of beauty and sacrifice. Flowers were living things that had their lives cut short in order to provide momentary satisfaction and life long memories to the receiver, not bitter feelings of revenge. Although it was still business, it pained him that such a pretty arrangement be misused. It was one of the cons of his work. He created what he considered to be masterpieces, and had no control over where they would end up, whether it be as a centerpiece for a candlelit dinner, or in the trash after the apology for a strong argument hadn’t been enough.

However, Harry couldn’t deny that he didn’t love his job, because he did.

When he turned 16, he’d determined that he wanted a peaceful life with a job that wouldn’t bore him. He wanted to be as stress free as possible, with his spirituality as a prominent highlight in his lifestyle. When he turned 18, he had determined that he wanted to be a florist, and began to save up to open his own shop with the occasional help of his friends and sister. He refused to take anything from his mother because he wanted to be the one giving her gifts and money and everything good after all of her sacrifices in raising him. Call him a momma’s boy. Harry loved his mother.

Online seminars and college classes became his best friend, teaching him everything he needed to know about accounting, stocks, and how to keep his business going. He was a businessman first, florist second. During the slow seasons (the start of winter and an awkward half-week between summer and spring) he relied on his investments to triple-ensure that he had enough money to stay afloat.

On his 22nd birthday, as a gift to himself, he signed the lease to the building that housed all of the pretty plants in temporary buckets full of flower food and water, and hired a graphic designer to design the cursive, golden letters that spelled out the name of his shop above the front door.

Now, three years later, he lived as happy as can be.

And he wasn’t lonely anymore.

Well, if you wanted to be technical, his relationship status was still a checkmark over the box labeled ‘single’, but his heart couldn’t be fluttering any harder at the sight of one of his regular customers, and she was there, creeping around in his brain to keep him company.

She was the complete opposite of every girl he’d ever been with. She was sweet, kind, funny, and didn’t judge him for the way he dressed, or his profession. In fact, they bonded over things that previous women had… slyly berated him for. The color of his nails, the lace of his collar, the pattern of his flared pants, and even the sheep on his baby blue sweater vest.

She stole his heart the moment she walked through his door with a soft smile on her face, a sparkling gleam in her warm eyes, and placed it in her pocket the moment she said, “it smells lovely in here!”

Harry, awestruck and blushing because well, she was pretty and wore a shade of purple that somehow made her hair look so soft. Two strands of hair were pinned at the back of her head, essentially keeping the rest of it away from her face save for the few baby wisps that rested gently against her cheeks like a lover’s caress. The stuttering, stumbling cupid’s-bow-struck fool replied with, “thank you. It would be my pleasure to help you with anything you’d like,” and that had been his name, signed on the dotted line of a soul contract. Only she was not the devil. She was an angel.

But even then, it wouldn’t matter. If she was the devil, if she was an angel, something in between or something new entirely he wouldn’t care because he was half gone for her already.

“In that case,” she smiled, and Harry’s heart sang a melody it never had before. It was like the sun beamed from the spaces between her teeth and tickled the fuzzy spot beneath his earlobe. She had the most amazing voice, tranquil and clear and ethereal. “I just moved into a new apartment and wanted the place to feel like home. I thought maybe flowers would give it a little life.”

He vividly remembers that the color of her cheeks changed to that of what is called a ‘blush’, but he didn’t know if it was a trick under the light, or a product of his wistful imagination. Her fingers gently skimmed the petals of a rose from it’s bucket near her hip, and one of the straps of the tote bag on her shoulder disrespectfully dropped away from her shoulder. He wanted to simultaneously rush over and fix it for her, and yell at the inanimate object for not being grateful of the fact that it had the opportunity to cling to her shoulder.

But, before either of these inner-conflicts met a sound resolve, her delicate fingers righted what was once wrong, and Harry cleared his throat, embarrassed because he’d stared for a little too long. He wanted so badly to ask for her name and how she liked her eggs in the morning, but instead he said, “there’s nothing like a bit of something pretty to brighten your day. Did you have something specific in mind?”

He hoped that the meaning of his words wasn’t caught on her, or that would be totally embarrassing and ‘loser’-like.

When she walked out the door with a content smile on her lips, his own heart was beating faster than the flapping of a hummingbird’s tender wings. He was sure that he had never laid eyes on a pair of lips like hers, neither the feeling that blossomed in his chest at the thought that she might be smiling just for him to see and enjoy.

Of course, it was a silly crush. One that clawed and gripped onto his sweaty palms with no sign of letting go. Maybe, Harry thought, it was because he hadn’t wet his wick in so long, and the interaction he’d had with her had sparked irrational, poem-inspiring feelings within the love cavern of his ribs. Because how could he fall head over heels with someone he didn’t even know? Surely, the swarm of hormone-pumped butterflies in his stomach was the beginning of a dead-end infatuation.

Right?

Harry went that entire day, appalled at the apparent angel he had the fortune of being in the presence of in her short fall from the tender heavens. He wondered where she placed the flowers she bought (an arrangement he was particularly proud of, full of lilac, delicate stems of lavender, and puffs of baby’s breath wrapped with a white bow) and where that tiny extension of him was. At the entrance of her home, right below the place she rested her hand against as she tugged her shoes off? At the center of her table? Maybe besides her bed? Where she would see the purple petals and white of him as he wrapped it every time she woke up or went to bed? He hoped- as much as it was a romantic thought- that it wasn’t the last one. He’s been so awkward, so pink. A blush on his cheeks he hadn’t remembered being there since the time he yelped, startled, at the unexpected pain of a tattoo needle, the artist pointedly peeved. Acting like such a boy.

Right before crawling up the steps of his apartment, heart still bleeding with love-blood from the deadly tip of Cupid’s arrows, he made himself a mini version of the bouquet he’d made her, and placed it at the center of his tiled coffee table.

*********

A few days trickled by, and the memory of her face drifted in and out of his mind like a giant sway of fabric slowly billowing in the wind. He was just so… struck by a slab of awe, stunned by her kind of beauty. Natural, the kind that hooks you in it’s purity, like the golden beams streaming in through transparent curtains on a warm spring afternoon.

Her strawberry lips curved elegantly under her nose, and displayed a smile that leaked some sort of heady drug into the air because the air was sweet when he breathed it in. And when he handed the bundle of flowers over to her, the pads of her delicate fingers skimmed the rough ridges of his knuckles. He wondered immediately what kind of moisturizer she used, and if it smelled like honey or lavender or peaches. She smelled sweet. Sweeter than all of the flowers in his colorful soul shop put together. The colors that belong to her, on her person and worn by her, were more captivating than any of the tones that painted the petals on his plants.

Owen got a kick out of this whole ordeal, though. Harry’s passionate mood had him divulging in munching and nibbling on things that tasted the way he felt; ambrosial, fresh and pure. It resulted in the purchasing of endless amounts of fruit, with many bites given to the tiny chameleon. Mangoes, strawberries, oranges, grapes, pears (Asian pears, if the store carried them, they were Harry’s favorite), peaches and guavas. The sudden craving for fruit might be explained as just a casual craving, but deep deep down inside, Harry knew that it was because he wanted to replicate the feeling that coursed through his golden veins when she giggled at something she happened to find funny.

He wished that he had caught her name. The girl had paid in cash (and left a five dollar tip Harry fawned over), so he couldn’t have read it on her card, and he was halfway between charming and awkward that he didn’t even think of asking for it until the minute the door closed behind her, bells tinkling in announcement of her exit. He wished for a hundred different things, but he was not the type to live in regret. Not anymore. So after about a week of floundering in her memory, he meditated for an hour, tropical incense on one of his bedside tables, and cleared his mind as best he could.

The next morning, he did the same thing. Woke up with heavy limbs, plopped himself down on his blue mat and stretched in various positions, his white boxers hanging low on his hips. His lips and eyes were sticky with sleep, and the back of his nose ached with cold air that he must’ve breathed in throughout the night after forgetting to close the window (again) but the pleasurable twinge of stretching aches between his joints were the perfect way to start his day. They urged his mind to transform into the still surface of water, clear and collected from any unproductive-pinning thoughts towards a girl he would most likely never see again.

Even his clothes reflected his refreshed mindset.

Harry donned his favorite pair of flared trousers in an earthy brown color, nestled snugly on his slender hips and around his thighs. The tight fit accentuated the way his back tapered into his waist, glutes shapely and sculpted. A maroon sweater vest that had a teddy bear embroidered on the middle of his chest, the small latte-toned stuffed animal seemingly childish, but on him it only directed attention to the spotlight daze of the velvety heart sheltered underneath his breathless plate. Underneath, a mustard long-sleeve shirt with tiny cherries printed on them. Some straight, some tilted or lopsided. His shoulders and biceps were hidden in the floofy bunches of cloth, anonymity given to the true thickness of his ink slathered skin.

He looked like a corduroy dream. A thick milkshake of patterns and colors, but he managed to pull it off.

A tiny gold hoop on his right ear gleamed under the morning sun coming in through the windows and a pearl necklace rested against the downy skin of his throat. Slender fingered tipped with a coat of pure white, with his ring fingers accented in a shimmery pink. Chunky rings adorning the base of his digits; a silver rose, a band of dancing teddy bears (a running theme with him), two gold rings with his initials H and S on one hand, and a simple ruby stud from his graduating class.

He looked good, he knew that he looked good, and was ready to begin a bright, healthy, non-pretty-girl-thought-polluted day. Even the old woman had pinched his cheek whom he had been assisting- a regular-had said he looked like a proper ‘nice boy’ along with ‘when are you going to her a lovely girl to help you run this place, Harry?’. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he had momentarily sworn off women until his broken sentiments healed, and they had a long way to go.

In the middle of wrapping a smashing set of tulips and fern stems with a cherry red bow, the bells adorning the top of the door frame dinges, announcing the entrance of another pleasant customer and giving passage to a gust of chilly air. Harry looked up to greet the customer with his usual pleasantries of ‘welcome! I’ll be with you in a moment!’, but the words died on his throat in a desperate hussle, just as the little mermaid had given up her voice to meet her gallant prince.

It was his own personal little slice of heaven presented to him on the black and white checkered floors of his shop. Hair loose against her shoulders again, eyes cast downwards to inspect a bucket of fresh daisies that tickled the space above her bare knees. How she could wear a skirt in this biting weather, he didn’t know, and it partially prevented him from continuing his pursuit of admiring her because the first thought his caring mind jumped too was, ‘is she cold? And if so, does she need a sweater? Because I will gladly give her one.’ His second thought, however, was ‘how could someone be that beautiful?’. The third was something along the lines of ‘all my yoga has gone to shit, and I’m okay with that’.

He cleared his throat, tightened the bow around the stems of the flowers in his hands and said, “I’ll be with you in a moment, love!” His head bowed, looking at his work because he wasn’t sure he could afford the medicals for the paralysis that was sure to take over his meek self if they made eye contact so soon. Harry needed a moment of homeostasis, his soul adjusting to her dulcet presence.

The woman he was assisting, Edna, spoke, drawing him out of his daze, but he had been so deeply in thought that he had not heard what she said.

“What was that?” He asked her. He grabbed Kraft paper from the roll by the register to wrap up her arrangement.

“The girl. You like her?” She was smiling at him, wagging a finger the way his nan used to do when she caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. “Don’t lie to me, I recognize that look. I’ve given and received that look many times throughout my life.”

The woman was not wrong. With age, comes wisdom, Harry thought, smiling to himself at being caught. A dimple carves itself into his cheek, nestling onto the space above the corner of his mouth as if he had no choice in the matter. The apples of his cheeks were shadowed with a dusky pink, and the tip of his nose was twitching like a rabbit when it stood on its rear and sniffed the air, only he was coy after just being caught and wanted to avoid the question as much as possible.

“I’ve got no idea what y’talking about,” he chuckled, keeping his voice low so that the intriguing stranger in the store didn’t hear that their topic of discussion was her. He moved over to the register to ring her up, and even slid in a discount he applied to customers he liked.

“Next time I come in,” Edna said, passing Harry her debit card, “I hope to hear that you got her number, dear. Don’t let these opportunities pass you up. Life is short. And who knows? She could be the one.” Harry gave her the card back after charging her, and handed her the flowers, too. All the while Edna was grinning at him, shaking her head like she knew something he didn’t.

“Take care, Edna. And don’t forget to change the water every 2 days with the flower packets I placed at the stems,” he reminded her, sweetly wiggling his red-lacquered nails at her retreating woman as butterflies awakened in his stomach in a furious flood of nerves. The girl was looking around, her hands hovering over the up-turned faces of a bundle of lively sunflowers, browsing and quietly humming to herself as she waited.

There was no backing out of this, even if he wanted to. And he didn’t! He didn’t want to back out. The girl was a customer, and he would have to approach her no matter what. But she was so pretty it was also intimidating. He doesn’t remember ever being this nervous while approaching someone, especially one he harbored feelings for. His heart was pounding so loud, he was sure it was audible.

“Hello,” he wanted so badly to add ‘love’ at the end of his greeting. “Are y’finding everything a’right?” He asked her, his hands wringing themselves, palms moist with sweat from his unyielding need to impress her. The pink tip of his tongue poked out to swipe across his full bottom lip, and soon after that his teeth sunk down into it, nibbling with uncertainty. Harry made sure that he was standing straight, body aligned to face hers because in that psychology course he took once, he learned that it was a subconscious tactic to engage interest and pleasant replies to attempts at wooing another.

At the sound of his voice, the girl jumped, startled at the sudden vibrations of Harry’s husky voice. Her delicate feet, he noticed, skittered on the floor from her tiny jump, and her doe eyes widened, shouldered rising and falling at a quicker pace than before from the new rush of light fear. When she realizes that it’s just him her hand flattered over the base of her neck and her collarbone in attempts to soothe her racing heart.

“M’s sorry,” he whispers, his hand clamping over his mouth, and then lowering to his chin when he speaks again, “didn’t mean to scare y’love.” This time he can’t restrict himself. It comes so naturally, like the endearment was meant for her, and when a flush covers the bridge of her nose his first instinct is to coo at her for looking so cute. The second is a surge of guilt for having scared her to such an extent.

“It’s okay,” she says, a little out of breath. The blush on her face was partly because she was embarrassed at her own reaction, while the other was that she had let herself act so freely and uncoordinated in front of someone that looked like him. Handsome and sweet and eyes so green they refreshed you upon first glance. Like the cool burn of water going into a mouth that had just chewed a stick of minty gum. “I want to buy these flowers.”

God help him. Her voice alone was enough to make him melt. The lilts and melodies of her voice swarming all four of the ventricles in his heart with warmth, and every blood cell that passed contained a glowing heat, buzzing with her energy.

She points to the sunflowers, her gaze lingering on them with longing. A soft smile toying on her mouth, and Harry could see the tendons in her throat stretch as she inhaled to add another thought to her sentence, “Do you sell vases by any chance?” The girl looked at him shyly, her eyelashes almost twinkling as she blinked, and his heart soared, “I had a really nice one in the shape of a big Coca-Cola bottle, and I accidentally knocked it over, so now I have nothing to put them in.”

Harry is incredibly enamoured by subconscious gestures that take over her hands as she speaks, fiddling as if the vase she spoke about was in her hands, all in one piece before it was broken. He’s quiet throughout her tiny ramble, listening and taking note of her enticing antics. She’s looking down at the floor or the flowers or her hands, and when her eyes dance over to his steady gaze, “I’m rambling aren’t I?” she murmurs bashfully.

“No, no it’s a’right. I can look in the back for something if y’like?” He suggested, arrowing a thumb to the ‘back’ he mentioned. “Did y’want anything in particular?”

“Oh, I don’t wanna be a troubling customer!” She squeaked, concerned with becoming a nuisance she didn’t want to be.

“Y’not a bother, love. M’promise. I’ll go look f’you. What color did y’have in mind?” He asked her, tone calm and soothing to reiterate his sentiment. She was not a bother. The only thing about her that bothered him was the fact that he did not know her name, and even that was his own fault for not asking her.

His hands rest on his hips, tattooed cross momentarily hidden by the bunch of his sweater vest as he waits for her to respond, his eyes locked on her mouth, her own tongue subtly licks her lips, adding a sparkly sheen to it that only drove him crazy. Ever the jilted fool, his mind jumps to what it would feel like to kiss her, or what it would feel like if she kissed him in other places. What fruits she tasted like, and what kind of kisser she was. A timid one? With a patient mouth waiting to be broken open with the force of his own? Frugal? Opening her mouth and giving him everything she had to offer.

“Something pink, please. If you have it.” That smile again. One that told a million apologies it didn’t owe, with her eyes pinching at the corners with whatever nonsense culpability she felt. Her voice was sweet, Harry thought, like wind chimes on a summer morning.

Feeling guilty for allowing such dirty thoughts to gallop through his mind when she was so… so pure. Like an angel. Even her way of presenting herself was shy and sweet, yet he was thinking about kissing her. Was that perverted? She was a customer he had seen twice, and his mind was already running wild with luscious assumptions; a sunday topped with a red cherry of sensuality. How awfully dirty of him.

But! But those were not the only thoughts he had. He wanted to ask her what happened to cause her to drop her vase, and where she had bought it. If it was vintage, considering it was a Coca-cola bottle, and if she had any accidents while cleaning up the mess of broken glass. He wanted to hear her thoughts. No, better yet, he just wanted to hear her talk. He wanted to get to know her. To know if she was as nice as she looked.

“‘Course,” he mumbled, his eyes shamefully downcast to the floor. “Be righ’ back.”

Harry stalked off to ‘the back of the store’. Truth was, there was no back of the store containing vases. There was only a small closet with boxes of items he might need around the store, like flower food, rubber bands, and decorative paper for the bouquets. A crate of bottled water for when he got too lazy to climb up the back stairs and into his home.

His home.

Plucking the keys from his pocket, a ring that held a ceramic swan his closest friend Mitch had gifted him with a humble admission of ‘saw this at a thrift store and thought about you, H, I had to buy it’, and five keys: one to the front door of his shop, one to the cash box in the register, one to the mailbox, another to the front door of his apartment, and one to his car. The one to his front door was painted at the head with pastel pink nail polish, so it was easy for him to pick out when he was dead tired after a long day of being on his feet (spunky shoes that he liked to wear sometimes didn’t help ease the ache on his back, and neither did his posture).

The back door that led to the stairs had locks on both the inside and the outside. A deadbolt and chain on matching sides of the door to ensure comfortable sleep at night, and peaceful work time during the day. Not having to worry about curious children opening doors or nosy customers relieved him. It was a little amatuer, but the door made a loud noise when opened because it wasn’t quite level, and he had a tiny key so he could lock it from the outside, too.

A loud shucking noise resonated through the store as he pulled the door open, and then again when he closed it behind him. The delicacy of his dainty yet large hands were nearly comical around the tiny golden pin stud that hung from the chain, almost slipping from his hands with nerves as he slid it in place. Harry didn’t think that she was nosy or anything like that, bit if he was going up to give her a vase of his own personal collection, he didn’t want her to find out and feel even more intrusive that she already did.

He was a huge giver, and upon hearing her say that she broke her flower pot, his mind was already thinking about the perfect one to replace it. It just so happened to be sitting on his shelf with a bundle of dying lavender. Climbing up the stairs (the ache in his thighs was a mere twinge compared to what it was when he first moved here), Harry huffed and thought to himself all the ways he could ask for her name and number.

Listen, I really like y’and would like to have y’number?”

Do y’wanna have my number so we can go out sometime if y’feel like it?”

“Is it alright if I get y’number so we can go out sometime?”

“Hey, love. What’s y’name?”

Nothing’s making sense to him. The pick up lines he had stored in his head for the rare times he would flirt with a girl were slipping from him. None of them seemed worded right to use with her. Too abrupt or too brisk. Not sweet enough. He wanted to treat her gently and to be worthwhile of her time. Plus, it also had to be smooth enough that it made her forget she was paying him for flowers or it would be awkward. He was a twenty-six man for crying out loud, not a twenty-one year old smile at the bar looking for a good time. This wasn’t a ‘good time’. This was… a courting. An inquiry to a relationship. A rose rose in a candlelit room.

Harry opened his front door and moved in a quick jog to a table besides his hi-fi that held a translucent pale pink glass, fat at the base before twirling and widening a few inches at the lip. An image of a nude mermaid puffing out at the front like an engraving. Cuddling it into his breast, he grabbed the lavender, speed walked back to his kitchen where his toe banged against the metal of the trashcan as he pressed on the lever to open it. He hissed fuck under his breath and shucked the dead lavender into the bag before turning back to his door, closing it behind him, but not locking it because he didn’t want to keep her waiting. His feet moved quickly down the stairs, the one hand not holding onto the vase cupping a hand over the side of his hips that held his keys so they didn’t make much noise.

The button on the chain slipped from his fingers a few times from their repeated clamminess, and when he was ready to finally twist the knob, he paused to take a breath and collect himself. Harry ran a hand through his hair, fixed his collar, and dusted off his pants legs. He wanted to look perfect for her.

“Don’t be stupid,” he murmured to himself. He had a good feeling about this. About her. And if he messed this up because he looked bad or said something weird he would kick himself into a muddy ditch.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and calmly walked back, “I’ve got the last one,” he said, tapping the tip of the vase with his pointer finger. It was a lie, right through his teeth, but he was happy to tell it in return for the way she was looking at him in that moment. His eyes rounded out as he approached her, like the curves of hearts that made up the heart-eye emoji, or the puppy-dog face. Just another physical display of his growing affinity towards her.

“Oh my god!” She said, “It's so pretty!” The trapped crystals in her irises twinkled with bewilderment at the treasure Harry’s presented her with. She’s got a smile on her face, and he can’t help but think, ‘wow, she looks like a freshly bloomed white lily’.

There’s a vintage print hanging in his corridor, a ‘flower language chart’ with different types of flowers and a sentence beneath them describing the messages they send. For example, red carnations= my heart aches for you. The description beneath white lilies reads ‘my love is pure’.

She asked him if it wasn’t too pricey, and he made up some fake sale he had going on about a hybrid BOGO in which if she bought an arrangement she would get a vase included in her purchase (he added “I’ve got a shipment of new ones coming in an I need the space cleared out before they get here” just to make sure his fib is believable.) And he explains this so shyly. Harry can’t keep his eyes locked on hers because she’s staring at him with an intensity that lets him know she's really listening, and it makes him squirm. The tips of his fingers tap against the vase, and he’s tripping over his tongue, which is ridiculous because he already talks so slow.

“I guess I was right in waiting then,” she said casually, waiting for Harry to finish ringing her up.

His finger froze over the touch screen of the sleek, modern device (he wanted nothing but the best for his store) and listened to the exciting roar of blood through his eardrums at her words. I guess I was right in waiting then? What did that mean? That she was planning on coming back to see him and didn’t? Of course, it could also mean that she was going to buy something else somewhere else, but he couldn’t stop the vine of ripe hope that swelled around his chest. And she looked so apprehensive while saying it. As if she was walking on glass and was looking for cracks as she stepped. As if she was waiting on him to catch on to something.

Harry cleared his throat and looked at her through the corner of his eye, trying to be as discreet as possible as his fingers continued their deliberate work on the screen, “What d’you mean, love?”

“I was going to stop by sooner, but I just got in my head about it,” the girl shrugged, and adjusted the ends of her cardigan so they wrapped around her torso. She had a different bag this time, one of those reusable market bags that was made up of holes, and it was filled with two books and a can of green tea from the vegan store down the street. Harry thinks he can make out one of the titles on one of the spines, which looks suspiciously similar to something that he has on his own shelf.

“Why would y’get in y’own head about coming to m’flower shop, hmm? It’s hardly that intimidating,” he chuckles to play off the dashes of pink and red that are painting themselves across the bridge of his twitching nose, “I don’t bite, either.”

And he hopes that his wistfulness isn’t meddling with his vision because he swears that he can see a matching reaction on her own doll face. “I know! I know, it’s just that I can’t help it sometimes. Talking to other people makes me nervous.”

Harry could coo at her right now. He doesn’t, though. He nods and smiles at her before reading her total out to her, “That I get, too. But y’doing just fine with me, love.”

Waiting patiently as she digs through her bag for cash, he tries to not stare. However, it’s impossible. His eyes had a mind of their own dragging against the forces of his will to feast on her image again. Her hands and the tip of her nose. The base of her neck and gentle swell of her clavicles. The swoops of hair that hung in a curtain from her shoulder as her head tilted in search, and the how her teeth bit down into her lip in concentration. Harry counted the amount of times her eyelashes met her waterline in those few seconds of comfortable silence. Three.

“I thought I had cash on me today,” something in her bag clicks, and she pulls out the rectangular card Harry’s become familiar with, holding it out to him between two deft fingers, painted with red hearts on a white base. “I guess I used my last twenty at the organic food store down the street,” she said.

“It is pretty easy to get lost in there, isn’t it?” He took her card from her, and tried not to make it obvious that he was eager to read her name off of it as he inserted it into the machine. The embossed letters into the plastic read y/n y/l/n, and when he turns back to look at her, he can’t help the smile that spreads across his boyish features.

Y/n.

Y/n, y/n, y/n.

This is what it must feel to be let in on a secret that’s worth millions of dollars. It must, because Harry’s heart is soaring with a closure he didn’t know he needed. Y/n, y/n. Her name tickled him. Stroked him. Lathered him with the honey smoothness of the beeswax shampoo he bought at that fateful organic store. It was a fitting name. Sometimes, one could tell a person ‘you know, I actually thought you were a Amy or a Jessica’, because their looks and style just didn’t match the strength or modesty of their name. But not y/n. It fit her like a glove. There was no other way to make sense of the way Harry’s brain was thinking. The name was her.

“What?” Her lips quirk up into a smile and her eyebrows dip in confusion. Why was he looking at her like that? Did she have something on her face? Here she was, opening up to a cute stranger and she had something on her face? This, she thought to herself, is humiliating. Her finger dusted off non-existent crumbs from the corners of her mouth, “do I have something on my face?”

“No! No, no.” Harry’s careful beam simmered down from it’s previous brightness, and his hand nervously filed through the swoop of chocolate curls sitting on his head like a cinnamon roll. “I just think y’name is pretty thas’ all.”

He murmured the last part so that it was practically incoherent, and lowered his gaze as a searing heat stretching like saran wrap around his head and the divot on the nape of his neck. Oh, God. He was fucking blushing. Great Harry. A normally favorite among the ladies had been reduced to murmurs and thick, uncoordinated movements.

Like dropping her card when she piped up again.

Voice as small and quaint as his had been, "you think my name is pretty?” Her fingers are wrapped around the frail straps of her bag, tight enough that her knuckles were white and Harry was scared that she’d bury her fingernails into her palm.

“I think y’very pretty.” He whispered back. He can’t even bear to look at her in fear that he’s totally fucked himself over once and for all. His logic was this: what girl wants to be told by the guy they’re buying flowers that they’re pretty after he reads her name from her debit card? Especially one who (if outside female sources are to be believed) dresses “the way my mother did when she was a girl in the seventies”? Jesus, fuck. He must’ve looked ridiculous.

Harry opened his mouth to backtrack and apologize for being so unorthodox in his workspace, a breath sitting on his tongue with words ready to spew out, but the bell began to chime and it yanks his head from the register to the front and instead he said, “welcome! I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Flustered and full of regret, the flower connoisseur returned his wired gaze back to y/n, who… was smiling at him? The kind of smile that said ‘oh my god, I can’t believe you just said that. Now please say it again’? Was he… dreaming? Did he have to pinch himself in order to verify that he wasn-

“Thank you... what’s your name?” Y/n looked at the card from his hands and sunk her hand- carefully, as to not get her fingers stuck in any of the tiny holes- and there was another clicking noise before she took her hand back out. That angel-like smear of girlish happiness was still on her, decadently radiating positivity and secret affection. Goodness leaked from the seams of her bones; through the cracks of her breastplate, radiating from her chest to Harry’s. He could feel it now. He could feel that his previous assumptions about her nature were true. She was altruistic and tender, like the inside of a bird’s wing.

“Harry. M’name’s Harry.” This time, he didn’t hide his happiness. Even his eyes shone with a heightened, clear and sparkly shade of liquid evergreen. The joy that bounced inside of him like ricocheting metal balls in a pin game machine. His slender hand, fawn-skinned and graceful like the legs of a deer, stretched out between them. His mother had taught him that along with the first introduction of his name, a handshake must be present, always. Dipping his head slightly, and his words spongy with love-ditz, Harry rumbled, “Nice to meet you, y/n.”

She placed her hand in his, and was practically swallowed by only his palm. He curled his fingers around her, thumb and middle finger overlapping around the clammy center of hers. So she was nervous, just as he was. Y/n was trained on their embracing limbs, and he could feel a spot on his neck where the skin palpated from the rush of blood as she observed their entwined digits. Their hands moved up and down, up and down between them for longer than necessary until her chin twitched back up to meet his, and she blinked mawkishly, slowly, like the videos of rehabilitated barn owls Harry sees on his Instagram.

Then, suddenly, as if she remembered she was not the only one present, y/n jolts upright and shakes her head dazedly. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Harry. I like your nail color,” she added.

He’s cheesing. A shit-eating grin too big for his face and it carves dimples into the flesh of his cheeks. His name on her tongue had never sounded so appealing, like it was made for her and only her to say. Not even the turtle-doves that cooed outside his window in the mornings sounded as beautiful as she did saying his name. And she complimented her nails! She hadn’t scrutinized him like others had, instead, she displayed her admiration for them. No one- well, actually he can’t say that without offending Mitch- no female of his age had ever received him with such open-mindedness as hers. If he didn’t have any self-restraint, he would giggle. Instead, Harry pulled his hand back so that their perfect moment wasn’t sullied with bouts of bad timing, “thank y’love. I like yours, too. You’ll have t’come over sometime and paint mine, yeah?”

Y/n laughed, and he breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t been too bold, “I’d love too!” With glee frozen on her, she turned to look over her shoulder at the customer who was browsing the flowers Harry had in buckets, “I don’t want to hold you back from a customer for so long. I’ll stop by again soon, Harry. Thank you so much for your help.”

The moment her hands reached for the wrapped bundle of sunflowers and the mermaid vase, a metaphorical grey cloud of rain and thunder manifested in the space above his head, and blocked all of the sunshine from spanning across his toned, lithe body. Did she really have to go? He wanted to whine. Maybe even wrap himself around her ankles like a child that refused to leave the park. They were only just getting to a mutual spot of comfort! Forget the other customer, he wanted to shout. Harry would kick them out and flip the sign to ‘closed’ if it meant only a few more minutes in the presence of her candy-coated charisma.

But he knows that’s unrealistic, and settles with, “it was my pleasure, y/n,” a flirty wink (at least he hopes it is), “I’ll be waiting f’your next visit.” His taffy lips wrapping effortlessly around his smooth words, fueled by her welcoming receptiveness to his advances. It would be easy to be himself in the future, a little smoother and eloquent in his language and feeling. He was usually clear with what he wanted from anyone, and made it a pleasurable experience in all aspects for both parties involved (once it was three). Harry wanted to sweep her off her feet, and he wanted it to be an enjoyable experience for the both of them. Revel in that feeling of blooming emotions in a new relationship. A healthy one, in which he wasn’t receiving back-handed compliments all the time.

He wasn’t superficial enough to push anyone off the table based on looks alone, but it did help that y/n had the disposition of an angel. An ethereal voice, supple lips that looked so silky and soft they had to feel that way, too, and hands that felt so tender in his. Perfect for holding on a late night stroll, or over the center console of his car when -if they go out on dates.

What really hooked, reeled, and sinked him, though, was the fact that she was so nice to him. From the start, she’d been nothing but polite and sweet with him. Don’t even get him started on the way he swooned at the tone of her voice when he said that her name was pretty! So quiet and velvety, careful and calculated like she wanted him to know that it was okay. That she wasn’t thrown off by his comment. He nearly toppled over, clutching his heart with his legs jutting straight up into the air like a frightened goat.

It wasn’t until the bells stopped ringing the sad notice of her exit that Harry realized he passed up the perfect opportunity to ask for her number, and as he kicked himself over it, he walked with the perfect customer service face he could muster to help the other person in his store.

***

Harry was having a shitty morning.

Not the kind of morning where every aspect of his routine is a terrible mishap, but like the water being too cold and the stove not working or the bottle of oat milk in the fridge being empty so he couldn’t make coffee. No, everything was fine and rolling smoothly, as it should.

His water was the perfect temperature and ran down the toned bumps and divots of his muscles like the relaxing thrums of a lover’s caress in the midst of prowling heat. As soon as it hit his back, he released a sigh of contentment, his shoulders hunching and head rolling back and his hands roamed his shoulders and the back of his neck, rubbing away any aches that existed. The branch of eucalyptus that hung from the golden pipe of his showerhead fused a thick minty scent into the steam that fogged the glass wall, and the calming aroma helped the tendons loosen like the deflating limpness of untied shoelaces. He spent a few minutes just standing there, inhaling and exhaling deeply and feeling his lungs open and stretch beneath his rib cage.

It almost made him wish that he’d opted to use his tub for a hot bath instead.

He was able to cook an egg just fine on his stove, with dashes of Everything Bagel Seasoning with a side of avocado and a slice of toasted cranberry walnut bread, the same thing he had every morning. The carton of oat milk was brand new from his trip to the market the day before, and his coffee tasted the same as it always did. But… he was just... sad. An melancholy soreness that eroded against the insides of his body, consuming him slowly but surely and leaving him with a lost feeling of emptiness and unimportance.

He thinks he might know why he’s feeling this way.

While he’s stirring his scrambled eggs, he’s wondering how y/n likes hers. Over easy? Sunny-side up? Scrambled, like him? Did she even like eggs in the morning? What did she eat in the morning? He knows that some people ‘aren’t hungry’ in the mornings, though that’s only because they’ve gone hungry in the mornings before for an extended time period, and after so long of not feeding their growling stomachs, their brain discontinues the signals of hunger. Harry hopes that isn’t the case with y/n, and that she’s eating the proper three meals a day every day.

And while he dipped a mini vegan chocolate croissant that he got at Whole Foods, he also wonders what she likes to dip chocolate croissants into, or if she even likes chocolate croissants. If she was a person who likes sweet treats, like strawberry tarts with powdered sugar over them or something lighter, like fruit cut into small squares in a bowl. When Harry was younger and would visit his nan on the weekends, she would pick fresh strawberries from her garden and cut them up for him when he’d woken from his nap. Sometimes, she would even sprinkle half a tablespoon of sugar over them. He wonders if she’d ever eaten strawberries like that.

It’s been a week and a half, he still hasn’t seen her, and his heart is yearning.

Harry knows he’s not in the correct headspace to assist other people with a cheery disposition about an hour before opening time, and decides it’s best if he writes a note on the door about how the shop wouldn’t open that day because he didn’t want to taint the reputation of his business by snapping at a customer for the only bundle of sunflowers he had, or dissolve into a puddle of love-sick tears in the middle of ringing someone up. Though really the notice just says ‘H’s Garden will not be opening today. Sorry for the inconvenience!’ followed by a frowning face and a lopsided, filled-in heart.

Harry drags his feet back up the stairs, his lower lip jutting out in a discreet but depressing pout, and grabs Owen from his tank so that the chameleon could curl into the shoulder of Harry’s hoodie while he moped on the couch to sappy rom-coms that would only make him think about her more. At least there was someone there with him, even if his small green friend only used him for mangoes and papaya. They sit together for the entirety of Romeo + Juliet, and when it’s over, Harry’s sniffly and standing up to return Owen to his enclosure and to clean because the riotous emotions that whirl within him are too much to process while sitting down.

Cleaning wouldn’t help him solve his problems, but it would help him cram all of his worries into a tight corner at the back of his mind- sort of like when dirty laundry began to overflow in the hamper and it requires extra force to shove it all in, only to come all back out like a memory sponge. His tormented thoughts on y/n could be compared to a dramatic inner monologue, very similar to how Romeo feels about his Juliet. But, soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and y/n is the sun. Harry has the play on his book shelf (the one with the side-to-side modern English translation because he was never quite gifted in the English department) and as he reaches for a bandana to tie his hair back, he finds himself resonating with a particular line: parting is such a sweet sorrow.

There was no need to change any of his clothing, since he was already dressed in one of his more impromptu outfits; grey sweats and a white t-shirt that read ‘women are smarter’ in black across his chest. He tied the red bandana into a knot at the back of his head, and lifted it over his chin so that it settled on his forehead, sweeping his hair back with a final push back. It doesn’t get in his way when he crouches to clean his various tables, spraying cleaning products with his shirt pulled over his nose, another organic product that’s supposed to be less harmful and smells like cinnamon and sandalwood. His shoulder blades begin to ache because he’s being a little more aggressive than he has to be, but the green tiles were sparkling so he was content.

He washes the dishes, mops the kitchen floor, vacuums the carpets, cleans Owen’s habitat, and tidies the mail that piled up on the table when he finally calls it quits. Scouring his brain for something to do, to keep him busy- his brain busy, Harry settles on the floor with his back to the edge of his bed. He’s shirtless now, and is in need of another shower but he’d rather not because he knows he might end up crying over the possibility that he’s scared y/n off. There’s a book in his hands and a Frank Ocean record playing softly in the background that mentions something about ‘I've been thinkin' 'bout you, do you think about me still?’ and it’s not helping his case at all.

It’s no use.

There’s a plague of darkness buzzing like cicadas in his ears. He fears rejection and criticism. That maybe, she was only pretending in order to make the situation more pleasant so it ended sooner. Most of all, he feared that it would always be this way. That he would never find someone who embraces who he is as a person. Always met with mean side-eye glances or second looks of displeasure and confusion. It isn’t always that way, though, because then that would mean he gets absolutely no action, and that isn’t true.

Harry is very… well-educated in matters that concerned sexual intercourse, but it was always a one-night stand ordeal. It was never ‘I really like you we should go out sometime’. In fact, he noticed that only time his approaches were well received were those in which he was dressed in a calmer manner. Simple, solid colors with sneakers or a t-shirt. Girls would flirt back, make good conversation, allow him to buy them a few drinks, and when he’d take them to his apartment they’d ask why he lived on top of a flower-shop, and if it was his sister or female-friend’s palace that he was crashing. Sex would ensue, but his heart wouldn’t be as present and engaged as he wanted it to be.

Wrong. It was always so fucking wrong, and God, if he didn’t get out of this apartment he’s going to breakdown and cry and there’s no one to call to come over because Mitch is on a trip with his girlfriend, Sarah, and his other friend Jeff is on his honeymoon in Sweden. They were the only two on his mental speed dial list during the rare occasions he had a crisis, as they were the two that Harry had ever really opened up to. Mitch was a bit closer to his heart. They’ve known each other since their school days and practically grew up together (at one point they had small crushes on each other, which were confessed years down the line). Jeff was the owner of Winsome where… where y/n had mentioned spending her last twenty dollar bill. He didn’t have an issue opening up to them. He liked opening up to them, but he didn’t understand why they were the only two that ever truly opened their arms to him.

A walk, he decided, would help him… air out his brain. Calm down. Breathe a little deeper, a little easier.

He threw his white shirt back on, and a forest green sweatshirt that donned the emblem of the school he went to earn his business degree that fit him wide around the shoulders and felt like a marshmallow. Putting on a pair of beat up shoes, he shoved his keys into his pocket, hobbling and nearly losing his balance because he was moving way too fast. The door closed behind him with a slam, and even though he was still wearing the bandana around his head, wispy stray curls framing his face in a wild mane, his distress palpable through his appearance, but he doesn’t care. He just needs to get out and feel the cool air against his skin.

There’s a backdoor behind the stairs that will take him to a small alleyway that leads to a back parking lot where other shop owners that live at the top of their stores on the same side of his street parked their cars. He unlocks it from the inside, and throws his shoulder into it, desperate to her out. When it shuts behind him, he doesn’t turn back because it’s the kind to lock from the outside when closed. His fingers curl into the ends of his sleeve so that the tips of his fingers (nails now changed to a sparkling silver color) are the only parts of his hands visible.

Rounding the corner, he whistled the cheeriest tune he can muster. His lips are puckered and his cheekbones high with the extension of his mouth. He’s not very happy on the inside, though he remembers reading something somewhere that if you pretend to be something long enough, you’ll eventually become it. If he pretends to be happy, then he’ll actually be happy.

Right?

Harry rounds the corner of the parking lot and turns on to the main street. It’s only two in the afternoon, so there's people crawling in and out of shops anywhere. He even sees a man and a woman peeking into the window of his store, and he would feel bad if he wasn’t in a shitty mood already. He’s so out of it, that he nearly yells ‘get your hands off my windows!’. He doesn’t though, because for a moment the woman becomes y/n and the man becomes him, wrapping a ringed hand around her waist and whispering in her downy ear ‘they’re closed, darling, let’s go somewhere else’ and she straightens dejectedly, pouting playfully and standing up and her tippy toes so that she could press a quick kiss to his lips.

That image fades though, and the couple continues with their stroll, hand in hand, and his heart is wrenching, writhing and trying to yank itself free from it’s place in his chest because it hurts too much to stay.

Cars whizz past, and he skirts in and out of people on the sidewalk, keeping his pace fast and focused. There’s no intended destination, he’s just moving with the intent to forget the pretty girl who haunts him. Her voice is all he can hear. Her smile is all she can picture. And the rest of her is all he can imagine, which is exactly what hurts the most. Imagination only goes so far, fulfils so much with uncertainty of what the truth was and what wasn’t. Harry could imagine her with her feet up on the lip of a bubble filled tub, a glass of wine in her hands, but then…what kind of wine did she like? Or did she even like wine? And did she even have a bathtub to stretch out in after a long day?

He curses the crimes he may have committed in past lives to deserve this torture. This unbearable pain that felt like he was being dunked in a slow-acting acid. He can do nothing about it but keep walking with labored will power. He passed his shop, and a bakery and a small thrift store that sells used clothing for way too much money. At the propped open double-doors of Jeff’s Winsome, he decides to talk in and browse. There’s so many items that smell good and taste good, that it was fun to just walk in and look.

“Back again so soon, H?”

Spinning on his heel, Harry comes face to face with Niall, a brunette, fit, Irish bloke with a chummy smile and a killer sense of humor. The two have brokered a sort of friendship, considering the amount of time (and money) that Harry spends there. Niall has even started calling him ‘H’ in silent homage to his flower shop.

“Y’know I can’t stay away,” Harry attempted to joke, his lips pulling up in a weak smile, “plus, I think I needed s’more of the peppermint essential oils f’my diffuser.”

“‘Course ya do! You're worse than the bloody vegan mums that come in asking for gluten free baby powder!” Niall cups a hand over his mouth and loudly whispers to so that only Harry catches his verbiage. There was a woman in the back of the store, looking through soaps in the limited kid’s section, the same exact kind that Niall was speaking about. “Go on and look around then, I’ll be here when you’re finished.” He said.

Harry only nodded his acknowledgement, and moved in between wooden walnut shelves. The entire store had a caramel brown color scheme, with only the inventory adding color to it. Macramé potted succulents and plants added to the natural, outdoorsy feel. Winsome had an interesting mix of smells from all of the aromatherapy based products it housed, but it only added to the appeal.

Currently, he held a packet of four lip balms that advertised to be ‘100% all naturally derived ingredients with no artificial additives' infused with ‘healing power of crystals’, two of them ‘citrine cherry' flavored, and the remaining ‘garnet guava’. The brand name is something in Italian that he can’t read, packaging thick and a triangle made of arrows in the corner signaling it can be decomposed and/or recycled. He had the same exact ones at home, only they were all misplaced and-

“Harry?”

A small, timid voice called his name from behind him, and he froze. He knew that voice. It was the same one he had repeated over and over in his head for the past week, waiting for her promised arrival with a hopeful heart.

His eyes go wide with recognition, body still and stiff like a deer caught in headlights. His heart begins to rump at a furious speed, loud in his ears like a million stampeding hooves. The packaged products in his hands shake, and then she speaks again, “Harry, is that you?”

Is this really happening right now? He’s embarrassed at having been caught with lipstick in his hands of all things, but he can’t put them back now. It was too late for that. He lets them hang at his side, and turns around. He hopes there isn’t perspiration dripping from his temples because all of a sudden he wants to yank his sweater off.

Harry turned, slowly. He feared that if he moved too fast she would fly away like a startled dove.

“Y/n…” He’s breathless, but he manages a pitiful quirk of the corner of his mouth, which he licks over right after, “hi.”

She’s wearing a dress this time, frilly at the hem which fell just above her knees. It’s pink and covered and lined with blood red trim at her forearms. A string of pearls glistens at the base of her throat, and her lips are covered in a sheen of lipstick. Her hair, however, is a tousled mess, pieces of it framing her face and untucked from her bun as if she had been jostling around. Her cheeks are flushed with the cold, and clearly that thin beige cardigan hanging off her elbows is doing nothing to keep her warm.

Y/n smiles at him, with the same shakiness, “f-for a second I thought I was talking to the wrong p-person.”

It’s quiet again, and they’re both fidgeting. Y/n’s knees knock together as she shifts her weight from foot to food, and Harry idly rubs his finger under his nose and sniffs boogies that aren’t there. She’s staring at the ground and rocking back and forth on her heels and he can’t think of anything to say because he’s so paralyzed by the fact that she’s actually standing in front of him, and looks as gorgeous as ever. Had he somehow manifested her presence?

While she’s hiking up the ends of her sweater so that they’re situated properly on her shoulders, he says the first thing that comes to his mind. “Aren’t y’cold?”

Her head snaps up and she peeks at him from under her lashes while flattening a hand at her thigh, “a little bit.”

Harry watches her tuck her hair behind her ears and wonders if she came walking from her apartment again. In the cold. Dress as she was. Not that he had a problem with the way that she was dressed! He understood that sometimes when people grew bored they used the smallest occasions to dress up and have some fun and get out of their homes. He did it too, sometimes. To clear his head. Hell, isn’t that what he was doing now?

“D’you need a ride home?” He stumbled over his tongue to backtrack, not wanting her to think that he was a wierdo or anything like that, “t-that is if y’walking, I wouldn’t want you to get sick or anything like that. S’bit chilly out today.”

Y/n smiles shyly at him, a blush on the highest points of her cheeks, and rubs the side of her face against the fabric of her cardigan, “thank you, for the offer, but uhm… it’s my friend’s baby-shower-gender-reveal thing today and I came with my other friend to some last minute gifts and some flowers. I was going to buy some stuff from here because she’s crazy about the whole ‘no preservatives’ and all but, and I was also going to stop by your shop to buy some flowers, but I saw you were closed so I…I’m rambling again.” She sputtered out the last bit, and pressed the tips of her three middle fingers to her lips to stop the words from coming out.

Harry smirked at her antics, but it’s more of a repressed smile, and the rest of his humor gleamed in the sea-glass of his eyes like a message in a bottle.

“S’alright, love.” He’s still holding the lip balms in his hand, and he can feel the moisture that’s collecting on his palms dampening the Kraft like material as he gestured to her dress with the tip of his chin. “Y’wearing pink. I take it y’want the baby to be a girl?”

“Actually, I know it’s a girl. She told me,” y/n pips, shrugging smugly.

Harry laughs at her this time, “Did you finish with all your purchases here? I can make an exception and open up f’you.”

“Oh, Harry, I don’t wanna bother you! Because if this was your day off then-”

He lifts a hand to get her to stop, and uses the opportunity to twist around and put back what he had in his hands. The conversation is flowing so smoothly now, that all of his previous worries are gone. He can only focus on her and the way her eyelashes fluttered and the crystalline sparkly in her voice.

“Y/n, it’s fine. D’ya finish here? We can head over to the shop now if you’d like.” Harry points a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the door.

“Uh, no. I just got here so I still have to go grab some things,” she said, pushing her hair past her ears again. He thinks that she can probably tell the disheveled state her hair was in, because she begins to pop off a pin in her hair to readjust it. He doesn’t mind it, though. He thinks she looks cute. Angel-like.

He nods, rolling his hands into fists within his sleeves so that the cuffs hang over his knuckles, and tries not to trip over his legs as he backs away. “A’right. I’ll wait f’you in the front, then. Take y’time, love.”

“‘Kay,” she gleams at him, biting down on her bottom lip, and Harry turns away fully before he starts whining about how cute she is or before there’s a dent in the heather grey fabric of his sweatpants.

At the front, Niall has his chin at the palm of his hand, and as he gets closer, Harry lifts his head to see that the brunette is wiggling his eyebrows mischievously. There's a shit-eating grin on his face that clearly points to a mountain of teasing in the near distance.

“A little love-struck, mate?” He said, as soon as Harry was within hearing distance. At least he had the decency to keep his voice down, he thought.

Harry flips him off, “oh, bug off.”

Silver glitter sparkling on his nails, and his gaze strays to the floor, bashful of how clear his affection was. He turns to rest his bum against the counter and pulls out his phone to appear busy as he waits for y/n, mindlessly opening Instagram to have something to do (and to stop him from glancing at her ever two seconds).

“Yup. I knew it. Have y’asked her out yet?” Niall doesn’t stop to let Harry refute his question, “y’know she comes in sometimes, after stopping by your place? And she just will not stop talking about how nice yeh were to her.”

Harry’s head snaps up from his screen so fast, something at the back of his neck creaks with the force. Instagram is long forgotten.

“What? Are you fuckin’ with me right now?” He doesn’t mean for his words to come as aggressive as they do, but the thought of her speaking to someone else about him is… well, it’s thrilling.

Alarmed, Niall’s hands come up near his face in the motion of surrender, “no, man! Dead serious. Think she likes yeh, honestly.”

He can only say: “Fuck me.”

Niall is about to respond when a quiet voice breaks their stares, “I’m all finished.”

“Already, babe? I’ll rig ya up, then!”

He’s quick to slide the few products over the scanning square, and y/n and Harry stand beside each other silently, their height difference laughable. Niall’s gaze flickered between them with no commentary, and his lips pucker with a wiggling smile when he finally announces her total. A bit too much for a small changing blanket, oatmeal-based baby lotion, pacifiers with a lavender infused towel attached to ‘aid with goodnight night’s sleep’, and a bamboo hairbrush with a tuft of soft bristles.

Nonetheless, she provides the money with a pleasant smile. Harry can see a bit of tightness around her eyes that suggests discomfort, but he doesn’t say anything. Niall hands her a paper bag with her purchase, “there yeh go! Have a good day now, y/n! And be good, to Harry!”

Harry’s eyes widen at Niall’s last comment, and it takes every bit of self-restraint in him to not reach the other counter and whack him in the back of the head. Instead, he shakes and ducks his head in near shame.

Y/n, however, quips back with “I’ll be nice only if you’re nice,” and bumps her shoulder against his before walking towards the door, looking over her shoulder at Harry who’s smiling wide now, and trailing after her with no regard to Niall at all.

He shouts something after them about being rude lovebirds, but Harry doesn’t care. He’s floating after this heaven-sent like cartoon characters being led to a freshly baked pie with their nose on the scent. His rump high in the air like the Lorax disappearing into the light in the clouds, utterly ignorant to everything else.

When they’ve both stepped outside, they speak at the same time,

“Let me just-”

“Do y’wanna put-”

Harry and y/n giggle at each other,

“You go first.”

“Y’speak first.”

And then they laugh again. Harry pretends to zip his lips and throws away the key, and she says radiantly, “I’ll drop this off in my friend’s car really fast and we can walk to your flower shop.”

Watching her approach a car parked two spots away, a girl with blue, pink, and brown hair leans over to the passenger side, seat belt straining against her throat and when she sees Harry, she waves and it makes y/n push her back to her spot behind the driver’s side. Whoever this girl is, she and Niall have to meet, seeing as they can’t mind their own business. He chuckled and waved back, that girl laughing along with him and it made y/n cover her face with her cardigan covered hands.

“I’m sorry about Charlotte,” she said when she got back, “she doesn’t know how to mind her own.”

“A bit like Niall, it seems.” Harry said. He waits for her to catch up before beginning to walk down the street. Side to side, shoulder to shoulder. They’re so close, Harry can feel the warmth of her body heat through the fleece of his sweatshirt. It’s cold, and she’s still this warm?

“Maybe,” her eyebrows raise, and her head tilts towards him, “they should meet.”

“Tha’s exactly what I was thinkin’!” His voice rises with his excited agreement, and the tip of his nose wiggles as he scrunches his nose.

As they get closer, to H’s Garden, Harry reaches into his pocket for his keys, fingering through them so that they wouldn’t have to stand in the cold for so long. He didn’t want her to get sick.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I feel really bad about this,” she whispered beside him, looking up at him with doe eyes as she worried her lip between her teeth, the sheen of gloss adding an extra allure to her image at that moment. “It’s your day off, and I’m bugging you.”

They stood in front of the door now, underneath the green umbrella cover that extended from the top of the door and down the side of the window. Harry waited for her to step into the little alcove created by the indent of the door before stepping in after her and jiggling the key into the lock. He resisted the urge to pull his lips down into a cooing frown at the look on her face. She really was worried about disturbing him. If only she knew that he spent the entire day moping (and nearly crying) over her.

He sucked on his teeth, “oh, love, please worryin’ about it. Don’t wanna see that frown on y’pretty face anymore okay?” His confidence was slowly coming back, “s’not my day off, I just didn’t feel like speaking to customers today.”

Shrugging, he opened the door, and took a step back to allow her to step through first. Y/n ducked her head as she passed him with a murmured ‘oh, okay’, and he followed right after her, wanting to get away from the cold too because he knew that his nose was probably pink at that moment, but what he didn’t anticipate was for y/n to stop right after breaching the threshold, and bend over at the waist to pick something up from the floor, causing Harry to bump into her at such an awkwardly sexual angle with all of his momentum.

Considering he was half twisted away from her and in the middle of pulling out the key from it’s slot, the amount of force in Harry’s push from behind was enough to cause her to nearly fall forward, a surprised whimper slipping from her lips. Harry, determined not to see her fall, lets go of the key and reaches out just in time to grasp her hips on either side, pulling her back towards him mid-fall so that she doesn't collapse on her face.

However, in the midst of all of this Harry forgets himself and uses a bit too much force. Not to mention, the implications of their position makes him hyper aware of every single place their bodies touched, her small frame against his lithe, tattooed body.

This moment only lasts for a few seconds, but he can feel everything.

He can feel the easy give of the skin of her hips underneath each finger that touched her, the softness of the flesh on her thighs against his sturdy knees. The fabric of his sweatpants is suddenly non-existent, and it’s almost as if he felt every taught tendon of her legs, frozen with efforts of helping catch or brace herself. The heat of her groin is flush against his, and it makes him want to scream with a sudden sensitivity. Her ass is practically seated on him, full and malleable against the points of his laurel covered hip bones. Harry’s semi-hunched, as her weight also pushed him back, and the position is doing nothing to help his frenzied mind settle. He feels like shit because he’s being a horny, pubescent kid instead of asking her if she’s okay, but then y/n moves back into him to straighten fully and their centers grind. Her dress is semi-bunched at the halfway point of her bum, and he can feel heat emanating from her, radiating back on his bloating cock. He has to stifle a moan when she pushes herself up with the tips of her fingers.

Just as quickly as it started, it’s over. Y/n is dusting her bum off so that her dress falls and covers her modesty, and she’s beet red in the face, not looking at him. Which was fine by him, he was too ashamed to look into her eyes.

He clears his throat (something he’s doing a lot around her) and asks if she’s okay.

“Yes. Yes, I’m okay. This was on the floor,” she squeaked, holding up a neon yellow notice sheet in her hand. That damned thing was what caused all of this?

It’s a notice from the delivery men that said, ‘sorry! We missed you!’ with a time and date messily scrawled on the dotted lines. Harry had forgotten that he was getting a shipment of several plants that morning.

Cursing, he takes it from her, “t-thank you. Now how ‘bout those flowers?”

It’s awkward, obviously, but y/n is severely silent. Harry’s still stuffy in his pants, but he ignores it and doesn’t add any fuel to the fire because there’s more pressing matters at hand than a boner. Y/n is the most quiet she’s ever been around him, considering all of her word vomits and ramblings, and he’s suffering. Definitely beating himself up in his head for having ruined the moment. He held onto her for a second too long, frozen. She must feel so embarrassed, and he was self-endulging like a fucking asshole.

Harry asks her questions on what flowers she’d like, and she answers by pointing or bringing a stem to him, laying it on the counter without a word. A mixture of dahlias and baby’s breath with a handful of feverfew to make the pink in the dahlia’s stand out. He lays them out on his work table, cutting the ends at an angle where they need to be cutted and laying them out on a sheet of clear, dusty rose paper. Three packets of flower food are strewn at the corner, and y/n busies herself by fidgeting with them. He grows concerned when he makes a comment on the kinds of ribbons he had stored and she doesn’t say anything. Not even a nod or a hum.

Eventually, he decides he’s had enough of her neglect, and pauses his work to devote her some attention.

“Love, I’m sorry about what happened,” he said softly, trying to catch her eyes, “I know it probably made y’uncomfortable, and I didn’t do much to make the situation better, but I just didn’t wanna see y’fall.”

Y/n’s head is already dipped, so he can’t see her face, but when her shoulders begin to shake, he knows he’s utterly fucked. She starts to sniffle, and his eyes go wide. The paper crinkled as he set down the baby’s breath he’s holding in his hands. He hates seeing people cry, not because he didn’t know how to deal with it, but because he often ended up crying along with them. Also, he just didn’t want to see her cry. Harry wanted her to be happy, glowing, and smiling. Not dull with dollops of woeful distress in liquid form.

He rounds the corner and spares a look out to the street, wanting to make sure that there is no strange onlooker eavesdropping on their interaction. His hand reaches out to stroke her back or shoulder comfortingly, but he thinks better of it and drops his arm. She most likely would not like to be touched, considering what just happened between them. He drops his head, seeking face-to-face interaction, and speaks as gently as he can, “y/n, what’s wrong?”

She avoids his search, and turns the other way while sniffling, “you probably think I’m weird now or something after that.”

“No!” Harry exclaimed, jerking his head back as if he’d been struck, and her words practically had. He can’t believe that she would think that and even go as far as verbalizing her thoughts when he worshipped the ground she walked on and didn’t even know her that well, yet. “No, no. I don’t think that. Y’tripped, that’s all. Happens to everyone. If anythin’ I’m the weirdo for grabbin’ y’the way I did, and I’m really sorry about it.”

Y/n dig the heels of her hands into her eye sockets, “that was so embarrassing, I should’ve told you I was gonna stop or something. I always embarrass myself in front of cute boys and I never know what to do. I just-”

Harry interrupts before she can dig herself further another hole. He highlights a segment of her words, dropping everything else in hopes of changing the conversation and taking her discomfort away, and mostly because he was bursting with relief and happiness. She had said that she thought he was cute, just how he thought that she was adorable, and nice, and everything good. They were on the same level, their minds in sync. Did that mean…

His voice is airy and light because of what she had just admitted, “y’think I’m cute?”

She stills with awareness of what she’s just said, and a puppy-like noise seeps from the back of the throat before her hands sink further into her eyes, embarrassed. Harry tenderly wraps his fingers around her small wrists and pulls her hands away from her face, murmuring about ‘don’t rub y’eyes anymore, love, y’gonna hurt’ with nothing but kindness. A millisecond of distraction speeds through his mind at the softness on the inside of her wrists.

There’s a trickle of blubbering in her part, her bitten lips bumping against each other as she attempts to backtrack, “I mean- I- I-”

Harry decides that it’s now or never. It was a bit inconvenient, perhaps, but with her revelation his confidence soared and he was more prepared now to ask than he ever had been. So, he goes for it, “can I have y’number?”

A moment of semi-uncomfortable silence as the unknown tips the scale. Would she say yes? Would she say no? His head was spinning and he hoped his nose didn’t start bleeding or something because y/n nods slowly, smiling, and then, “okay.”

He’s elated. He was the polar opposite of what he had been that morning. If only Owen could see him then. He doesn’t waste any time reaching into his back pocket and handing her his unlocked phone. They don’t share any words, only coy glances and flirty quirks of the lips as the tips of her fingers move on his screen. Harry can’t believe that he’s finally getting her number, after nearly a month of pinning.

When she’s finished, she clicks it off and sets it next to him with an added pat to the back of his suspiciously clean white phone case while he’s tying the flowers together with a loose rubber band at the ends to attach the food packets. He’s fine with working in silence now that she's not crying anymore. He throws occasional glances in her direction, and catches her watching his hands while fiddling with her own. Her brows were furrowed and her mouth was twitching.

“Will you text me?” She asked him.

He’s careful not to bruise any of the petals as he sets them down again, pausing with his ministrations to pick up his phone. He wiggles his eyebrows at her and types a quick ‘Hi. It’s Harry :)’. He hits send, “until you’re sick of me.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” She shakes her head, and Harry’s reminded Rachel McAdams in The Notebook while she’s in complete denial of her feelings for Noah. The comparison makes his heart flutter, considering the romance of the onscreen couple. “How much do I owe you?”

Harry waves her off, “it’s on the house.” She begins to argue, but Harry stops her before she starts rambling again, “y’better go or you’ll be late, love.” He holds out the arrangement to her, tufts of baby’s breath poking out from between the vibrant dahlias like fluffy clouds, the feverfew looking like miniature white daisies in the center.

She looks at it, and back at him before huffing, “fine, but you’ll have to let me return the favor.”

“Of course,” he smirks, “with dinner, maybe?”

They’re both gleaming at each other now, “okay.” Y/n takes a step back, her body half twisted as she walks away, but it remains like that for a moment as her eyes rake him up and down, a murmur following, “bye, Harry.”

His veins charge with electricity, and his dark taffy lips part at her actions. Had she just checked him out? He doesn’t recover quick enough to return her goodbye because the previous swirl of arousal in his navel was bristling back to life at the implications of that look. Calm, slow, steady, and her eyes remained doe-like and innocent.

She had to have known exactly what she was doing, whispering his name the way she had, looking over her shoulder and under her eyelashes the way she did. Deviously provoking his thoughts to begin a new with a reinspired fervor. The space in his underwear was growing tighter by the second, a blissful ache swelling.

Before any other customer stepped in after her, Harry locked the door, and jogged up the stairs to prepare himself a nice, hot bath, simultaneously cursing and thanking the stupid fucking delivery men.

********

Harry can’t stop thinking.

Obviously, this is a huge issue for him. He was constantly thinking, and well, who wasn’t? The process of thoughts wisping around in his brain was one that he often put an unnecessary amount of energy into because he had no one to filter these thoughts onto, releasing them through a conversation to prevent the exhaustion of his brain and heart. A prime example of these mishaps being the depressing slump that occupied his demeanor that very morning.

This?

This was different.

As soon as the apartment door was shut behind him, Harry pulled the suffocating sweatshirt off of his upper body, fingers hooking in at the collar and yanking it off with a swift tug. It landed somewhere on his kitchen floor, and he didn’t stop to take note of its final destination. Instead, his legs instinctively took him to his bathroom.

Chest heaving, Harry walked to the small window leaking sunlight and rolled the stick between his fingers to close the blinds. His thumb dipped into the waistband of his boxes and dragged them down lopsidedly, the tiger tattoo roaring as it became exposed. When the blinds are fully closed, the white extension clangs against the shutters from his aggressive release. His body was slowly being consumed by a raging fire stoked by the illicit images his brain conjured of the innocent, unsuspecting y/n.

His inner turmoil consisted of guilt for using her image that way and justification from the conspiring rake of her eyes along the upper half of him that was visible behind the counter. He was so fixated by her, that her look alone felt like a tempting caress along his skin. And it all happened in a matter of fucking seconds. That’s how gone he was. That’s how fucking gone he was. Harry guesses that the easy excitement also had to do with the fact that he hadn’t gotten laid in a while (he only ever gets lucky when he goes out to the bars with Mitch or Jeff, and they’d been gone for a significant amount of time) and the strong affinity he had for the girl who bought flowers from him.

Explanation or not, he had to do something about the problem in his pants. He was painfully hard, and when he shucked his pants off fully, his underwear dragged with the movement and pressed against the tip of his swollen prick. A darkened patch of moisture bloomed where the head was, and he saw stars at the short pressure. He wouldn’t take his pants off just then, though. He liked to stall his pleasure as much as he could so that when he finally did cum, his stomach muscles contracted and his toes remained curled for more than ten seconds.

He twisted the golden knobs of his tub so that the water would come rushing out at a borderline scalding temperature, and opened the small cabinet above the toilet for a bottle of almond and coconut shea butter bubbles. He uncapped it and bent over the edge of the tip, the cool, porcelain lip touching his crotch and provoking a choked whimper to leave him. Jerking his hips back, he poured the soapy liquid into the spot where the water cascaded, and retracted his hand when the beginning of froth formed along the surface.

The heady sweet smell permeated the air with the rising levels of bubbles, and Harry couldn’t wait any longer. Because he liked to torture himself, he closed his eyes and slowly dragged the hell of his hand over the outline of his cock, a groan ripping though the silence. It’s so painfully good, that he does it one more time, and he jolts forward. He removes his hand, slips his thumbs underneath the waistband of his boxers, and lugs the fabric down his hips at an excruciatingly slow pace. The head of his member smearing precum all along as he moves and when he gets caught in the ripples of his boxers the muscles in his thighs flex at the ripple of pleasure that zips into his nerves.

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath. His mind was a spinning vintage reel of slideshow images of y/n. Y/n on bruised knees, her mouth wide open and her own drool on her tits, the tip of his cock flat on her tongue as she pleads with weepy eyes for him to cum down her throat. When he finally springs free of his underwear, a hefty slap rings out as his dick collides against his abdomen, right on the space underneath his belly button.

There’s a stripe of liquid on the trail left by the mushroom head of his prick, and Harry’s eyes roll to the back of his head, throat straining as he hovers over the bathtub. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever been this hard over a girl before, and it’s driving him crazy. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to last as long as he usually does. As he swings a leg over the edge of the tub, the hot water encasing his calf, he’s thinking about how soft she is. The inside of her wrist and the palm of her hand. If she’s that soft on an external part of her body that’s used everyday, he can only wither away at the idea of what the inside of her thighs feel like.

Bubbles are swarming up now, swathing his thighs and buttocks as he sinks into the sloshing water. When he’s completely seated and satisfied with the belly-button level of water, he clumsily throws a hand in the direction of the knobs to shut them off, and reclined his head against the curved end of the tub with his eyes shut.

He hikes up his knees so that they’re resting against the porcelain walls, and mindlessly ruts up into the water at the filthy images he’s picturing, white foam collecting in sparse clouds over the math on his chest. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. It’s as if his body is being transported back to the moment his hips clashed with y/n’s. At the recollection, his mouth drops and his eyebrows pinch in a silent moan. The feel of her flesh underneath his fingertips has him bobbing in the water, and the next ideation has him gripping the base of his cock.

Vividly, he pictured her on all fours, keening back onto him as her pussy enveloped him in warmth, a warmth that is almost replicated by the temperature of the water, dripping and making a mess of him but what’s turning him on most of all is the easy flushness of their bodies. He had felt the way her bum gave way under his hold, and he imagined the bounce of her flesh as he thrusted into her.

He moaned a broken call of her name with his eyes still shut, and heard the trickling of water as his fist rolled up his stiff prick, squeezing at the tip so that a few more droplets of precum dribbled out. With his thumb, he rubbed over the red mushroom head and lathered it in slow, leisurely circles, a throb pulsating with the beat of his heart as he returned to flicking his wrist over himself.

The way that he looked at him and the sound of his name on her lips seared into his memory. Airy and willowy, similar to it resonated in his brain with the fantasy of sinking into her for the first time, stretching her and having her preen and arch with desperate whimpers of his name for more. Harry considered himself to be ‘well-endowed’ and his size was a factor of what sent him careening over the edge as girls mewled over his size after he’d bottomed out. He wanted y/n to mewl under him, both of them falling apart at the seams at the mutual pleasures because if Harry’s this broken over just the thought of her, then he’s sure he’s going to lose himself beyond recognition after he’s buried himself into her velvety walls, slick with her arousal and so fucking warm.

Just as she had been earlier that day. There had been two layers between them- the fabric of Harry’s pants and her panties- yet, he was still able to feel an immense heat from the apex of her thighs against his cock. He needed more than this. He needed her, not just his hand driving him closer to the edge.

His jaw clenched as he bit back on a particularly loud moan, for no reason other than he enjoyed self-sabotage from time to time, and the speed of his jerking hand increased. His other hand gripped the side of the tub, and his legs flexed as he began to thrust up into his own fist, a trail of bubbles sticking to the tanned muscles. The cut rectangles of muscles of his abdomen glistened like freshly chopped cubes of apricot with the droplets of water that remained clinging to him. His breath came in labored, strained puffs as the palm of his hand twisted, tightening at the tip and loosening at the base.

For a moment, he paused and cupped his balls, massaging them as the fantasy in his head continued. His mouth wrapping around y/n’s nipples, her eyes glazed over from previous orgasm that he wanted so badly to give her. She’d whine something soft and quiet to match her personality, ‘please, Harry, please I want more. Need another Harry, please’, and he’d speed up the movement of his hips, driving deep into her and cooing into her ear about, ‘c’mon, darling. Give m’another then. Y’want it so bad, yeah? Give me a’fucking ‘nother’, and she’d release a peircing moan that explodes in his eardrums while arching into him. She’d squeeze impossible tight around him, gushing with her own cum.

The water in Harry’s tub sloshes around his ankles, and the muscles of his abdomen clench so that he’s closing in on himself, sputtering on an outrageously loud cry that he can’t contain and his hand increases the speed of his filthy ministrations because he’s right on the edge. He’s about to fucking cum and the back of his eyelids burns with the possible variances of y/n’s face in ecstasy provided by him with his nose deep in her cunt, lapping at the sweet honey that spills with every whimper of, ‘please let me cum, Harry. I’ll do anything, I’ll be good, please let me cum.

He tensed violently, his face contorted painfully as white ropes spurt from the tip of his cock over his fist and onto his chest, blending with the white almond foam. His feet are braced against the edge of the tub and his head falls back and his stomach tenses even further, the final leaks of his cum dribbling out.

With the fuzziness that comes after an orgasm, his body melts back into the water that’s still warm, and his jerks with a pant as he allows his softening prick to sink into the water. The head on his hair is matted in a chocolate smear across his forehead, and his lips are a raging heart of cherry blossoms, parted with arduous gasps of recovery breath. His hands fall into the water at his sides, and with the lapping movement of the liquid against his sensitive member, he ruts into nothing again.

Reclined with his eyes closed and heartbeat slowing, Harry murmurs a final, “fuck me,” at the extreme sensations that had raked through his body.

Somewhere in the muffled distance, his phone dings with the notification of a text message, and with a tired noise of resentment, he sits up and reaches for his sweatpants that lay in a messy puddle besides the tub. His fingers drip darkening spots onto the grey material as he rummages for his phone, and then he finally clicks it on...

It’s her name, lighting up his screen, and the text reads:

y/n <3 : so… dinner?

Harry doesn’t think he’s ever crushed on a girl this hard before because even though he’s just completely physically spent himself, there’s something stirring in the depths of his tummy just at seeing the heart she put next to her name.

He couldn’t be happier.

* * * * * *

and here he is!! what do you guys think?? pls pls pls leave your feedback in my askbox! i’d love to hear your thoughts! and if you really really loved it, don’t be afraid to press that reblog button <3333

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in-tua-deep · 3 years

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idk if you still do au ideas but what if delores was a real person in the apocalypse? how it woul dbe done i have no idea but i love all your aus and thought it would be cool

okay okay I don't tend to go for real!Dolores aus admittedly because I find her much more compelling as what she is: a reflection of five himself and a symptom of his crushing loneliness

but i started thinking about it and you know what?? i think five deserves a little socialization, as a treat

so say like, 0.5% of the population is resistant to abilities. Allison would really struggle to rumor them, Five wouldn't be able to jump with them, and, most importantly, whatever the fuck Vanya's ability does has like, reduced damage or something

and the og apocalypse isn't the moon apocalypse, so let's say that it was pure waves of Vanya's powers that fucked over the earth

so 0.5% of the population survives the apocalypse. though, let's be honestly, the real number is a lot smaller than that. People who might have survived Vanya's initial power wave (miraculously) did not survive buildings crushing them or survive the car/plane/bus/train/other transportation crashes or survive being left alone when they are too young to reliably look after themselves, or the variety of other problems that come with 99.5% of the population dying at once

So, Five arrives in the apocalypse and is met with ruin and fire and a whole lot of dead people. He finds his siblings, but it doesn't matter. They're dead. He doesn't even recognize them at first, these strange grown-ups who he identifies not by their faces but by the umbrellas on their wrists that match his own

As he realizes the full impact of his situation, he hears a voice that says, very succinctly, "holy shit!"

It's a girl a few years older than Five himself, maybe 15 or 16, and she is very excited to see another survivor.

And here's where I u-turn this au around bc i'm not all that interested in real!Dolores, but I would be down to talk about Five meeting survivors in the apocalypse, because if Dolores is real I don't buy no one else survived.

So Dolores shows up and see a Literal Child crying over the corpses of his family and assumes that Five is a fellow survivor, and she immediately grabs him up. Five is incoherent with grief at this point anyway, so he doesn't even protest when she basically hauls him away from the bodies. She's babbling at him, but he doesn't really hear anything she's saying

And then she takes him to her dad

(Why not, let's have the 1% potentially be a heritable thing)

and her dad, let's call him just some dad name. like Rick. it has been a fucking WEEK for him, okay. he had his daughter with him, his ex-wife is on the other coast for her work, and by some miracle he survived the apocalypse and so did his child, and he's been wracking his brains trying to figure out what the fuck to do next

and then his daughter shows up with a traumatized thirteen-year-old in tow

now rick is a good dude. he's a dad. they get out of five that his name is five ("what the fuck" dolores mouths to him over five's shoulder and rick can't help but agree) and the bodies he found were his siblings ("Dad and Ben and Vanya weren't there though," this child cries desperately and rick feels his own heart clench in response, "They might still be alive!")

"We can look for them." Rick assures his new adopted child, because he is an adult in a fresh apocalypse and this kid has presumably lost everything he's ever known (more than rick even knows at the time)

and they do. They each get wagons and they go out and find supplies and look for other survivors. Five is... surprisingly helpful and also surprisingly docile as he is able to rely on Someone Else to give orders while he attempts to (dissociate) process what the fuck has happened

and here's the thing: Five prides himself on being independent, sort of. He's independent for a child soldier, but he's used to taking orders from a male authority figure and Rick happens to be just that

The first time that Five does something dangerous and Rick yells is a revelation

(Rick isn't sure if he hopes that Five's dad is alive or not, because if they find that man alive then Rick might just kill the jackass himself. Also like, Five is bizarrely knowledgeable out survival skills, like way too knowledgeable about it, which is helpful for them but also very concerning)

they find a newspaper and Five finds the article that mentions his father's recent death ("Huh. Heart attack." Five says, and there is no emotion in his voice)

(Years later, years later, Five and Rick talk. "I don't think I wanted to find him, either." Five admits, softly because Dolores is asleep, "I think I was more scared of finding him alive than I was of finding his body. He would've been so mad at me, I think.")

this newspaper is how Rick and Dolores find out about Five being Number Five, Umbrella Academy Missing Person

"Dude, what the fuck." Dolores says, wide eyes, "You're like, thirty?"

"I'm thirteen." Five says, and then checks the date on the newspaper again, "Also I think I would technically be 29 if I lived through all of it, 'cause it's April and my birthday is in October."

"You... time travelled?" Rick asks, which is honestly the more relevant question, "Can you go back?"

And Five just,,, crumples on himself. Because he tried, he tried really hard. It didn't work. "I'm gonna figure it out. I'm gonna go back, I'm going to save them."

That, Rick thinks, is a lot of weight to put on one person's shoulders, but especially the shoulders of a child.

"Alright." Rick says, because what else can he say after finding out his new child has superpowers and is from like, 2004? "What do you need?"

("Oh my god I have so many memes to teach you." Dolores says later, reverently. Five blinks in confusion and Rick mentally prepares himself for the recitation of so many vines)

And it's easier, somehow. Five sometimes feels like it's a betrayal, but he settles into apocalypse life with an ease that surprises him.

He lets Rick fuss over him and help tie his scarf securely around his head every morning before he sets off on supply runs with Dolores. And they're kids! Five has never had a friend before, and Dolores is funny and smart and she's struggling just as much as he is.

"I don't know if my mom's alive." She says to him, in solidarity when he checks the face of every corpse to see if they're Vanya.

Five is practical in the way only a child soldier can be. He's economical with the room in their wagons, carefully examining what might and what might not be useful.

Dolores, on the other hand, constantly takes up space with what Five sees as useless shit.

"Excuse you," Dolores says, shoving a game of monopoly, the entire discworld series, and a pack of glitter gel pens into her wagon, "These are absolutely vital apocalypse supplies."

She challenges him, plays with him in a way no one ever has. "I bet you I can find more batteries today than you can," She grins at him, "Winner gets to pick dinner first?"

"You're on." Five says, directly before Dolores pulls two packs of 24 AA batteries from behind her back, like a cheat.

Dolores makes him take a ten minute break when they find a playground that has been mostly not-destroyed. They rummage around kids backpacks and mother's handbags for some good loot, too numb to corpses to even be bothered all that badly about the corpses they belong to.

"I'm getting on the swings." Dolores says when Five starts making noises about moving on, "I haven't been on a swingset in ages."

"What's the point?" Five grumps.

"Don't be sour because you can't swing as high as I can!" Dolores laughs, getting higher and higher as the swings creak ominously.

Five grumpily gets into the other swing and grudgingly kicks himself back and forth until Dolores takes pity on him and teaches him how to properly move his legs and body to get higher and higher.

Dolores jumps from the swing seat and lands with a flourish and smile. Five jumps out of his seat and then jumps, warping right in front of Dolores and making her yell and hit at him in outrage. Five smiles the widest he has all week.

This is how Five grows up in the apocalypse, with Dolores teasing him into taking breaks and leaning over his shoulder to look at his math and scandalizing him by stating that she'd only just started on matrices in her own high school math class.

Every night they huddle around Rick while he picks up whatever book Dolores picked out that day because it is a travesty that Five has never read hunger games or whatever, and then they read together because it would be a genuine blood bath if they all took turns. The first time Five accidentally mentioned a spoiler and Dolores genuinely considered murder was the birthday of this tradition

Some days the air is too smoky or there are dust storms or it's just plain too dangerous to go out, and they all stay in. Dolores regales Five with stories about public school, and Five tells them about his siblings.

Then they all cry

"I shouldn't be crying." Five sobs.

"Shut the fuck up," Dolores sobs back, "You literally watched me lose my shit over remembering my shitty eighth grade dance and listened to me sob-sing toxic for like four hours."

"In fairness I also wished you would shut up then."

"Let me hug you or I will start singing songs that I only remember the chorus for again you absolute fucker."

"I could always sing some -"

"No, Rick/Dad."

And Five grows up. Rick shows him how to shave very carefully in front of cracked mirrors. Dolores teases him every time his voice cracks. Rick tells Five in no uncertain terms that he loves and cares for him, and that Reginald was a little bitch. There are a lot of heartfelt conversations around that, honestly. Rick telling Five that he and the siblings deserved better, that they were children and deserved to have a childhood.

And that he has faith in Five. Rick and Dolores both do, they bring him back paper and pens and pencils and chalk and anything Five can use to write equations. They poke around any libraries for books on theoretical mathematics and quantum physics. Rick and Dolores go out scouting for food while Five stays home and can work longer.

They also make him take breaks, make sure that he's looking after himself.

They're a little better off than OG!Five when it comes to food, because some animals survive. Enough that Rick figures out how to hunt. Five is the first one to each bugs, and even though Dolores makes faces they all start eating bugs as well.

"Pretty sure there's loads of cultures that eat bugs." Rick says grudgingly, wondering if he should try stirfry the cockroaches and if that would improve the taste. "There's even, uh, cricket flour or whatever, right?"

"Plus you eat like, five spiders a year when you're asleep." Dolores says cheerfully, just to watch her dad's face scrunch up in displeasure.

"That doesn't sound true, but I don't know enough about spiders to dispute it." Five mutters, and Dolores gives him such a proud look that it makes him roll his eyes.

They're in their thirties when Rick dies. He's out foraging and hunting, and the rubble he's standing on gives way and he ends up with a gash in his leg. He manages to stop the bleeding, but the world is filthy and they don't have any antibiotics.

He gets an infection.

"It's okay." He tells both of his kids, "It's okay. I'm just so glad that you guys have each other, y'hear? I'm so glad."

"It's not okay." Five says, voice thick and choked, "It's not."

"Yeah, well, you're going to figure out how to go back, right? Go back in time and save everyone. Then I'll have never died, right?" Rick smiles, "And even if you don't, I'll be waiting for you on the other side and we'll see each other again anyway."

"I'm going to fix it."

"I know. I have faith in you, Five." Ricks says honestly, and that's more than Reginald ever said.

They sit quietly together while Dolores is out scavenging. They've been taking turns sitting with Rick.

"I won't remember you, in the past, will I?" Rick says rhetorically, but Five answers anyway.

"I don't think so."

Rick hums, "Well, doesn't matter. If you need help in the past, you come to me, y'hear?"

"You won't remember me."

"Doesn't matter. You come find me, and you tell me your crazy story until I believe you, and then I'll help you." Rick says firmly, "You're family. You're my son. Timelines? Don't matter. If you need help, with anything, even if it's just with - with filling out a bowling team or something -"

"I have never been bowling in my life and you know it." Five interrupts, but it makes him laugh just a little bit which was clearly Rick's intention.

"Well who knows what you'll get up to in the past! You'll be able to go bowling, you know. Get to wear those uncomfortable shoes. Hey, you go far enough back maybe you can go to Dolores's tenth birthday party and put me out of my misery."

"Was she bad at bowling?"

"Oh, she was wiping the floor with me. No contest."

"Honestly, that sounds absolutely accurate."

"Shut up, bowling just wasn't my sport. Regardless, the point was that I'm giving you a free pass to come and get me. Because I know you, I know how you think." Rick brings up his hand to tap his finger against Five's forehead, "You get it into your head that you need to go it alone, take it all on your shoulders. I'm telling you that if you do that I'll somehow manifest my memories and come smack you over the head for being stupid, you hear?"

"I'm not dragging you into anything." Five says firmly, "I'll have my siblings."

"Who were also children." Rick points out. "And dragging? Dragging is such a strong word for a volunteer."

"A volunteer who won't remember volunteering." Five shoots back.

Rick just shrugs, and then winces when the movement jolts his bad leg. "Five, I'm going to be honest with you here. And sappy. Can you handle a bit of sappiness for a minute?"

"No."

"Well too bad. Can't leave a dying man, you'd feel too bad. So you're stuck with me. But you listen good, okay? Because you aren't dragging me into anything. Whatever life you have, I want to have a part of that. Because you're my son. Wherever you are, whatever you do, I want to help because you're family. What you'd be doing by leaving me out of it is depriving me of someone I love, depriving me of knowing one of the best kids I've ever known."

"Shut up." Five says, choked.

"Nope, it's sappy time." Rick states, "Maybe asking you to come find me is selfish, but I don't care. No matter what version of me exists, I want to be in your life."

"My life is a walking joke, why would you want any part of that?"

"It has been my privilege to watch you grow up. To help you. To be here for you. Of course I'd want to be there to watch you grow up the rest of the way."

"But -"

"Shut up, just let me tell you that I am so proud of you. You never give up, and your heart is so big. You love so much and so loudly, and it's been the highest honor of my life to be included in your family."

Five pauses for a moment to collect himself before simply saying - "You're the best dad I've ever had."

Rick snorts, "Considering my competition, I'd sure hope so. That bar was so low old Reggie was practically limbo dancing with the devil. Now get over here and give an old man a hug."

They don't bury Rick, when he dies. They don't have time and the ground is too hard and they don't have the heart to move him. Instead the pack everything up and seal him in the shelter they'd lived in.

Dolores pulls out a bottle of ancient nail polish and painstakingly writes Rick's name on the wall with his birth year and an approximate current year. They aren't 100% sure though, since time blends together out in the apocalypse, but it's something.

They continue by themselves. They get older.

Dolores jokingly calls him her husband because the way his face scrunches up makes her cackle. They see other people very occasionally, usually passing through. Usually groups. Dolores and Five get to flex their hosting skills, though more than one group declines their cockroach stirfry.

("It's a family recipe." Five says with amusement in his eyes that usually manages to drown out old grief.)

"Jeeze, that kid couldn't have been older'n twenty-three." Dolores complains, "Makes me feels positively ancient."

"They wouldn't have known any world 'cept for the apocalypse." Five muses, pouring some boiled water into wine glasses because they might be living in the apocalypse but they can be fancy.

"Do you ever think about that?" Dolores asks, turning to him with no judgement, just curiosity. "When you go back, you'll be like, erasing them from existence."

Five shrugs, "Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe this place will just split off into an alternate timeline."

"Maybe none of this is real." Dolores says, amusement coloring her voice. "Maybe you aren't talking to a real person at all. Maybe this is just a symbol of your insanity and cracked mind."

"Dolores, I literally have a scar where you stabbed me. Did I somehow manage to stab myself in the back?"

"Scraped you, I scraped you. By accident."

"So you maintain." Five says haughtily, swirling his water in his wine glass like a pretentious prick.

"I could totally be fake. You don't know my life."

"I know way too much about you, Dolores. Like, way way too much." Five scoffs, because Dolores and him have literally no secrets from one another at this point. Five even knows the truth behind what happened at Janet Scranton's thirteenth birthday party. Like, he said, way too much.

"Maybe you made it up. Maybe that's why you know so much."

"Dolores, I'm going to be honest with you right now." Five presses the tips of his fingers to his chin, "If you were a figment of my imagination, you would be so much better at math."

"Hey!" Dolores squawks indignantly, "I didn't even get to finish high school you pretentious prick!"

"Neither did I!"

"You didn't even go to high school, you brat."

"I'm fifty-two I think I've outgrown 'brat.'"

"Tell that to your attitude." Dolores says haughtily, "You're still younger than me."

"Won't be when I go back in time." Five says cheerfully, completely ignoring Dolores's venomous look.

"That's cheating."

"Sucks to suck." Five says loftily, taking another sip of his water.

Sometimes they talk about The Plan, with capital letters. What Five is going to do when he goes back in time, depending on when he pops out. Is he going to adopt his siblings? What about Reginald?

"You don't think I could kill Reginald?" Five says, holding a hand to his chest in mock offense.

"I think you should let me do it. I'll even give you control of tonight's music if you do."

"What are you doing to do? Bite his ankles? What if you're like, seven or something?"

"All the better to get away with it since I'll be too young to convict or whatever."

"Pretty sure that's not how the law works."

"How would you know? Just for that I'm playing Istanbul on repeat again."

"I don't know why you think that's a threat. That song slaps."

It takes a few more years before Five is close enough that the Commission comes to interfere. Because that's what I think happened - Five was getting too close and they stepped in because they might as well distract the man as much as they can with missions, right?

So the Handler shows up. And she offers Five a job, telling him that they have the ability to travel through time. And Five - hesitates.

"Give me some time?" Five asks, and the Handler graciously gives him 24 hours.

And he and Dolores talk it over, because now that his goal is more in sight than it has ever been and Five is scared.

"What are you waiting for? You have the chance to see your siblings again." Dolores says patiently.

"Yeah," Five says, and what he doesn't say is clear. But I won't see you.

"Five." Dolores says, and she cradles his face between her palms like he is something precious, "I have had so much time with you already. More than I would have ever. We have been so lucky, to have this time. How can I demand more than what we have already been given?"

"When have you ever not demanded the world, Dolores?" Five asks, his own hand coming up to cover Dolores's own.

"We've had decades together, Five. We're getting old. I was always going to lose you, one way or another. Nothing lasts forever."

"I don't want to lose you."

"I know. But if I had to choose a way, if I could decide where our story ends, this would be it. Letting you go, because this way you get to live. You get to see your family again. You get to save the world. I could ask for nothing more than for you to get your happy ending."

Five removes Dolores's hand from his cheek so that he can cradle it between them, "I'm happy here with you. I've never been happier. Isn't that silly? That I was happier in the apocalypse?"

"I bet killing Reggie would make you happy." Dolores laughs rustily.

"One day you're going to see the mysterious disappearance of a famous billionaire in the paper and feel a twinge of satisfaction and now have a clue why." Five laughs as well, shaking his head.

Dolores pats Five's hands, "Five, look at me. We've had our time. And you're going to give me even more of it. More time with my father. More time with my mother. I'll never know it, but you'll have saved me."

"What if this is - what if this is an alternate reality? What if I leave you here alone?"

"Then you'll be saving a 15-year-old girl from the same fate as me. Because as much as I love you, as much as I have loved this time we have had together, this is still an apocalypse. This should never have happened, and if you have a chance to go back and prevent it, then I want you to take that chance with both hands."

"Even if it means leaving you alone?"

Dolores smiles at him, "I'm not going to be alone. Far too many creepy crawlies in the apocalypse for that."

"Shut up, I'm being serious."

"Hmm." Dolores hums consideringly, "Maybe I'll head North, to that new settlement that last group said they'd heard word of. Sure they'd find some use for an old woman who's survived this long in the wilderness."

"You can have my half of the record collection." Five says, pulling her against him into a hug that she easily returns.

"As if I wouldn't have stolen them as soon as you left." She scoffs, but it's a little wet, and Five pretends his own eyes aren't leaking tears.

When The Handler comes back, Dolores gives him another hug. She also slips something into his pocket - some photos. They'd taken it a year into the apocalypse, when Dolores had found an ancient looking polaroid camera and towed it home despite Five's protests about practicality. The photos are worn and faded at the edges, but the smiles on Five's little apocalypse family's faces are undeniable.

"You'll have to see if they magically fade when you change the timeline." Dolores whispers to him with a grin, "Like in the movies."

"Okay." Five whispers back.

"You have the list of movies to watch, right?" Dolores says. Five rolls his eyes and nods because he wrote the list last night into his Vanya-book while Dolores hovered over his shoulder and critiqued his handwriting.

"And you promise to try a proper non-expired twinkie at some point?"

"That I do not promise. I think even looking at one would make me lose my lunch. I have twinkie-trauma."

"Shut up and get going." Dolores says, because the Handler is starting to tap her foot impatiently.

And off Five goes to become an assassin. Though - he's much more gentle this time. He's careful, he doesn't kill children and he usually takes jobs that don't require killing at all. He distracts and manipulates events as much as he can without killing.

He's actually much more well socialized, thanks to Rick and Dolores. Less feral child and more determined man on a mission.

Which is why he's so frustrated when he finally, finally manages to get the equations to work and falls through and falls - directly back into his stupid thirteen-year-old body.

"Shit." Five says, loudly, and revels in the surprised look on his siblings faces.

He strides into the kitchen, and they all follow him like ducklings. They look exactly the way they did when they died.

"Wow this is actually way harder than I thought it would be." Five muses, looking at their dead faces. But as Dolores would say, life is hard but you have to keep on trucking sometimes. "Whatever, what's the date?"

"Five, where have you been?" Diego demands, looking irritated. It makes Five snort in amusement.

"The future. The past. If you want like, an exact list of dates you'll have to hold your horses. I spent like, two weeks in Peru once. No souvenirs though, unfortunately."

They look taken aback, like they didn't expect Five to have quite this much sass. Oops. That is definitely Dolores's influence. Or maybe he was always a little asshole. In fairness, what teenagers aren't tiny assholes? He has an excuse.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Diego's eyebrows are furrowed in anger. It kind of takes Five aback for a second, because he remembers a Diego who stutters when he argued.

"When did you learn the fuck-word?" Five asks, raising an eyebrow before her can help it, "Grace ought to wash your mouth out with soap."

Diego immediately goes red, "Shut up!"

"Wow you're so easy to rile up. Aren't you like, twenty-something? Actually, I could figure out for myself how old you are if you gave me the date."

"I'm twenty-nine." Diego growls, like that was the point.

"Haunting!" Five says cheerfully, because that means there is way less time than he would like, narrowing his time down to a six month window.

It's extremely funny how his cheer makes all of them make faces.

It's Klaus who leans forward, "Why do you need to know?"

Klaus's face is open and curious and - (looks exactly like he did when Five found him all those years ago) - and Five can't help but answer him. "The world end on April 1st, 2019. No it isn't an April Fools joke, yes I have heard that joke like a million different times. I just want to know how close I landed so I can, you know, start working on how to fix that."

"Woah woah woah, roll it back." Allison says, holding a hand up, "What?"

"The apocalypse occurs on April 1st, 2019." Five says, slowly. "I have traveled from afar to prevent this from happening, because like, everyone dies."

"Everyone?" Vanya says weakly from the side.

She's clearly expecting to be ignored, so Five turns his head to address her directly by wiggling his hand back and forth a little. "Sort of. Like, not too many people survive at all. A handful of the human population, you know."

"But you survived?" Diego recovers admirably, if bitingly.

"Well, no." Five says rolling his eyes, "Wouldn't you just know it, Klaus here has managed to figure out a new ability!"

Everyone turns to look at Klaus, who immediately holds up his hands like he's being arrested or something, "I did not!"

"Wonderful! Now that we've established that I'm alive -"

"Why should we trust a word you say?" Luther says for the first time, looking pensive.

Five blinks, genuinely taken aback. "Because... I'm your brother? Because I can clearly and obviously time travel? Like, yeah, it would have been more convenient if I'd arrived in like, my old-body for proof-purposes, but like. I mean. Thirteen is still a pretty convincing age to be to prove time travel considering if I hadn't, I would be like, almost thirty."

"Roll it back again." Allison says firmly, "What do you mean by 'old body'?"

"Great question!" Five says pointing at Allison and smiling. Everyone looks at him weird again, and Five takes a moment to wonder if they've ever experienced positive reinforcement. Knowing Reginald, probably not. "Wait! Is Reggie alive? Wait, no, answer that in a second. Uh. When I time traveled I fucked up my body I guess, I was like, old. White hair and wrinkles-type old from spending decades in the apocalypse. But I fucked up the calculations and got booted back to my thirteen-year-old body, I guess. How, I have no idea."

"What?" Vanya says, still equally weakly.

"You have no idea how fucked up time travel is." Five whispers conspiratorially to Vanya, loud enough for the whole table to hear, "There are so many ways to die. Or permanently tear a hold in space time. But like, with life as we know if ending soon-ish, I figured I couldn't possibly fuck it up worse than it already was, y'know? Speaking of, anyone have the date again?"

"Wait, what was that about dad?" Luther asks, very focused.

"Oh, you still call him dad? Big oof." Five says automatically, because apparently his verbal filter is shot to hell after living with Dolores. It does make Klaus bark out a too-loud laugh.

"What does that mean?" Luther asks aggressively.

"It means Reginald sucks and doesn't deserve the title of 'dad,' what did you think I meant?" Five asks, and now both Diego and Vanya and both cracking smiles, though Vanya is covering hers with a hand.

"Have some respect for the dead." Luther growls, standing up and looking very large and threatening.

Five sways back, craning his head up, "Woah there big buy, sit down before I injure my poor growing spine looking up at you. Jeeze, did Reggie force feed you steroids or something? I wouldn't put it past him but like, I just want to know he at least went over the side effects of the drug with you. Also like, thanks for narrowing it down. Also terrifying! Seriously though, exact date please because if I have less than 24 hours I am going to break down crying and that is a threat."

"I love this Five." Klaus says reverently.

"March 21st." Vanya offers, finally.

"Wow! Terrifying!" Five says, clapping his hands together, "Hate that. Ten days, huh? Well, who wants to get on board the save-the-world express?"

Klaus immediately flings his hand in the air, Five points at his brother appreciatively. "Yes, excellent! I'll take the volunteer in the lovely skirt as my first team member. Any other volunteers?"

"Danke!" Klaus simpers, grinning widely like this is the vest entertainment he's had in weeks.

"I'm not just going to stand here and listen to you badmouth dad and boss us around." Luther slams his hands on the table.

"Well not with that attitude." Five snarks.

Diego raises his hand, "I would like to join team fuck dad as well."

"We can certainly debate team names later." Five says, nodding wisely as Luther gives some sort of scandalized gasp.

"Honestly, I just want to see where this is going." Klaus confesses.

Five shrugs, because he doesn't really care about the reason. "Don't you want to prove me wrong them? Prove what a well-adjusted young man Reginald Hargreeves raised?"

"Shut up." Luther grinds out, looking a moment away from throwing a punch.

"If this is all true, I have to get home." Allison cuts in, looking concerned, "I have - I have a daughter."

"I mean, if you want to give Claire a world to live in then I'd stick around, but that's just me." Five shrugs.

"You know her name?" Allison asks, obviously taken aback.

Five is almost offended, "Uh, yeah. I have her photo as well. Y'all get on like, a bizarre number of gossip magazine covers did you know that?"

Allison manages to outdo herself in terms of being taken aback once more.

There's a beat of silence, and then Five turns, "Vanya? You in?"

"Me?" Vanya blinks, looking shocked. "What can I do?"

"Yeah, what can she do?" Diego asks, crossing his arms and suddenly looking grumpy.

It baffles Five, who scrunches his nose, "Uh, like, a lot? I assume? I mean. I'm going to be honest here, just looking at y'all right now is a lot. In more ways than one! Hashtag trauma and all that, but like, name a single one of you that wouldn't be the most obvious person in the room as soon as you walked into it. Except Vanya, who somehow manages to look like a well adjusted adult, by some miracle."

"Did you just verbally say the word hashtag?" Allison asks, looking so deeply confused.

"More concerned about the trauma he tacked onto there, but y'know, to each their own." Klaus immediately cuts in.

"You think I'm well-adjusted?" Vanya asks, looking oddly touched.

"I would like to direct your attention to Diego's leather pants-scowl combo and Luther's general aura of daddy-issues." Five says pointedly, "I can practically smell the tragic comic book backstory in this room. If I'd jumped back a decade earlier this would have been Batman's wet dream of orphan selection."

"Alright! Game plan!" Five says, waving Diego's knife in his hand.

Diego's hands immediately go to his weird harness looking thing, "Hey!"

"Give me just one moment to get the tracker out." Five rolls his eyes, "Then I'll give it back, I promise. Also if someone could ask Grace for like, some antibiotics that would be good."

"What?" Allison asks, directly before Five stabs himself and there is suddenly panic at the table.

"Relax!" Five says, allowing Diego to remove the knife from his hands. He doesn't need it anyway and his hand immediately drops down to root in the wound.

"Five what the fuck!" Diego yells, but Five just pulls up bloody fingers and waves the tracker into Diego's stupefied face.

"What the fuck is that, Five?" Allison demands, looking very shaken.

"I literally just said it was a tracker." Five points out, "Now, I think our first team activity should be voting on whether we destroy it or take it out to bumfuck nowhere and ditch it to confuse the Commission."

"What the fuck is the Commission?" Diego barks.

"Man. Maybe I should just hit up Rick." Five muses, "This is going to take so much explaining."

"Who is Rick."

"So much explaining."

#survivors au #well adjusted five au #five actually has some social skills!#and an idea of what an actual parent looks like as well #klaus absolutely adores this version of five #who quotes vines and uses gen z slang with the best of them #five has been reliably informed that public education is worse than the apocalypse #but he's also pretty sure working with his family is worse as well #five: i have so much trauma lol #klaus: oh big same #vanya: mood #five is somehow the most well adjusted hargreeves #and the most responsible #he doesn't legally exist and he doesn't pay taxes but somehow he has his shit together #five showing up at rick's house: you don't know me but i know you in the future #rick: what the fuck #five: don't make me bring up bethany midler from highschool because you gave me so many embarrassing stories to convince yourself with #rick: okay okay i believe you and you are???#five: your son from the future lol what's up dad want to help save the world #five arriving back at the manor like: WHAT'S UP LOSERS RICK IS NOW YOUR DAD TOO BC GOD KNOWS Y'ALL NEED AN ACTUAL FATHER FIGURE #klaus calls rick a dilf and five kidney punches him hard enough that klaus can't even properly introduce himself #it's better for everyone that way #delores: 15 and ready to fuck someone up #delores: i'm not staying with this weirdo (diego) while you go off with my dad #five threateningly: don't make me bring up what really happened to dad's good suit in 2012 #delores: i will stay right here #rick: wait WHAT happened to my good suit #five: unimportant don't you want to save the world #long post #far tua long

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cherriesfineline · 3 years

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Au Pair – Chapter I

It's finally here – I'm sorry this took so long, this past few weeks have been a mess but here it is, our first chapter for the Au Pair series; I kinda hate this, ngl- I always hate first chapters, a lot of introductory info and bla bla but yeah.

In the weird case you happen to enjoy this and want to be added into the taglist (starting next chapter) you can request it here.

Feedback, likes or reblogs are so, so appreciated! I'm very much new to the whole writing world so yeah it'd be really helpful to hear your thoughts about this <3

Love you all, have a wonderful week beauties!

Warnings: none specifically for this chapter – age gap.

WC: 6.6k

Masterlist

Y/N was tired, to say the least.

And it wasn’t the tiredness she used to feel after a long work shift at her previous job -where her boss was an old, grumpy lady with horrible manners- or the exhaustion felt after spending hours crying due to a fight with her mother. No, this was different. It was a tiredness she couldn’t get rid of; a tiredness no lavender smelling bath or hours upon hours of sleep could amend.

She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment her brain shifted in such a drastic way. Y/N could easily recognize and admit her life had never been an exciting one; a memorable one. Ever since she was a little girl it all seemed to fly by; graduations, birthdays, friendships – nothing ever seemed to leave an impact and nothing ever seemed as exciting as everyone else put it to be. She knew she struggled with allowing herself to enjoy things, but this far her life had been pretty average.

Maybe it was the fact that she was 22 years old and never been in a real relationship what skyrocketed her fear of dying alone. Now, she knew it might seem exaggerated – 22 years wasn’t a long life at all, but the pungent emptiness she’d been feeling felt like her inevitable destiny – like that’s how life was supposed to be for her.

England felt different, though. But in all honesty, her emotions hadn’t had switched into completely different ones like she’d expected to happen when she applied for this job as an Au Pair all the way back in February.

With a steaming hot cup of coffee between her cold hands, she sat down next to Coco (a very soft grey Scottish Fold) on the giant couch of her new home, scratching in between his tiny ears earning a low purr in response. Coco had become one of her closest friends so far, along with Anya, a three year old girl with cute blonde locks and a laugh so contagious it made the muscles on your cheeks ache after a long playdate.

Maybe moving away wasn’t the smartest choice. It actually might be one of the stupidest choices she had ever made, actually – moving all the way across the globe when she cried herself to sleep most nights due to her loneliness overcoming her (almost inexistent) self-awareness. Y/N liked to believe she had a wide understanding of her emotions, but it was a blatant lie.

At least she was distracted for most of the day – taking care of two kids and looking after a teenager wasn’t an easy task. It required a lot of mental presence; but by the time she was in bed at night, it all hit back again. She thought maybe this is how life is supposed to be for her, lonely – maybe it was not her brain playing her tricks but her brain making her see how her life truly was.

It’d been two weeks since the Lockehold family picked Y/N up from the airport, and on one side getting physically adjusted to this new life hadn't been as rough as she thought it’d be. She did have it easy, if she had to admit – a big room in a giant, beautiful home and a car to her disposal. Emotionally, on the other side, life was still the same.

She knew the moment she heard heels hitting the cold marble staircase Bella was on her way down with Ivy, the eldest of the three sisters, following close behind, complaining about a hangout she was apparently going to miss because they “are expecting a guest” as Bella announced, meaning neither of her parents could drive her. That’s how Y/N found herself sitting in her (borrowed) blue Jeep Renegade driving Ivy to her friend Lily’s house – who lived in the same rich, over-the-top neighborhood as her guest family, which meant the ride to and back was no longer than twenty minutes. During those minutes together, though, Y/N could physically feel the irritation running through Ivy’s blood because first, she still wasn’t too fond of Y/N because she is 16 and doesn’t need a babysitter -her words, not Y/N’s- and second, Y/N is still not accustomed to driving on the other side of the road.

Technically, Y/N had the weekends off. Living with the same people who employed her gladly didn’t mean working 24/7, but she hoped she could earn a couple of points in her favor if she took her free time to drive her around.

After a short conversation between the two (where Ivy refused to save Y/N’s number in case an emergency came up because she could always call her dad), Y/N dropped her off and drove back to the Lockehold’s. What caught her off guard, was the sight of someone in the driveway at the house next door getting suitcases out of the trunk of a black cab – there hadn’t been any movement in the old Victorian mansion since she’d moved in next door. A man, definitely very tall, dressed in a dark suit is all Y/N could decipher since it was already dark outside and she had to strictly concentrate on not switching to the opposite side of the road out of habit.

Alex was coming down the stairs when Y/N locked the front door – Bella’s husband was a very handsome man for his age, probably anyone could admit it. He was kind of scary sometimes, but was a true sweetheart on the inside; he’s in his mid-40’s and it was clear as day his family meant everything to him, he even treated Y/N like his own daughter, always making sure she’s comfortable and inviting her to most family hangouts – even though Y/N declined pretty often to allow them to have quality time as a family (and because being too socially involved drained her, but they needn’t have to know that)

“You wanna join us for dinner? We have a guest tonight. A family friend.”

“Oh, no, I'm good, you guys enjoy yourselves. I’ll say hello, though.” Y/N replied with a smile; and as before mentioned, even though she had the weekends to herself, they still loved to insist on her joining them for fancy dinners and whatnot. The Lockehold’s loved being hostesses, loved having people around (from what Y/N learned this past two weeks) but she really wanted -and needed- some time for herself after being with them the entire week, and even though she loved hanging out with them, she just wasn’t in the mood tonight.

“You sure? Bella made homemade pasta, from scratch. Her specialty.” Mouthwatering, Y/N thought. Bella was such an amazing cook, and even though she worked hours upon hours every day, she still came to her husband and kids in time to make dinner every night, not missing a single day.

“Sounds delicious, but I think I’ll pass, I’m just really tired.” And before anyone could make another comment, the loud bell ringing through the main floor of the house startled Y/N as it’s louder than ordinary – and sounded kind of old and creepy, in her opinion. By the time the constant thud in her chest lowered to a normal speed, she could recognize Bella’s voice in the foyer, meaning she was the one who received their guest, with a deep voice following after saying 'thank you for having me'.

"He's here!" Alex clasped his hands together, a wide smile appearing in his face. Y/N followed him into the living room where Bella was already chatting animatedly with a man; tall and with broad shoulders (but not excessively; just the right amount) his figure was leaning slightly forward as he listened to Bella rambling about all the 'good things he had missed while he was away'. His hands were clasped on his back and when he lifted his head, he made direct eye contact with Y/N without even having to search for her eyes. His brown curls were perfectly placed on top of his head looking extremely soft, and when he ran his hand through it Y/N couldn’t help but swallow harshly. He undoubtedly looked like someone who belonged in Hollywood next to a young Leo DiCaprio and he was definitely older than Y/N – probably already in his 30's, she guessed, but ageing like the finest wine. He had the softest looking wrinkles in the corners of his eyes – those eyes, forest green; reminded Y/N of what used to be home for her. His intense gaze held a lot of emotion, a lot of thought, unlike his face, that appeared stiff and cold, with a slight crease between his brows. His pink, heart-shaped lips were pressed in a line, a cute mole adorning one side of his chin.

"Harry! It's so good to see you, we've missed you." Alex's excitement forced him to drift his gaze away from Y/N, leaving her like a heated teenager salivating for him. Y/N honestly thought he might had left her speechless and most likely with increasing probabilities to make a fool out of herself if someone needed her to talk, as she was certain she wouldn't be able to formulate any coherent sentences.

Harry. It totally suited him, Y/N repeated his name a couple of times inside her head to check on its pronunciation. Alex reached him and pulled him in a big hug, patting each other's back, and Harry's lips broke into a huge smile making a line of pearly white teeth appear. And dimples. God, he had dimples.

This is how I die, Y/N thought.

"So good to see you, Alex." If sex was a sound, his voice would definitely be it.

"Your skin is glowing, Harry. Italy always does you wonders." Bella gushed. And she was right – his skin had this beautiful golden undertone, but it looked natural and radiant, almost like the sun itself kissed and caressed his skin with the softest touches. Alex snapped Y/N into reality when he turned to face her and grabbed her hand to pull her closer to them, starting a long introduction no one was paying much attention to, explaining how he’d missed her arrival, like he even cared, and how she was the Au Pair they’d all been talking about ever since February. It wasn’t until Alex mentioned something about Y/N and Harry probably seeing each other a lot she was suddenly interested in what was actually going on.

“He owns the school the girl’s attend.” Alex directed towards her. Now, Y/N assumed the moment she laid eyes on him he was probably rich – who wears a suit to a Sunday dinner with friends? Rich people are weird, that’s something we can all agree on; but owning a school which’s monthly fees per kid were worth three of her salaries? That was quite unexpected.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry." Y/N offered him her hand, trying to sound as casual as possible, even if her skin felt like it was burning under his intense gaze and her eyes were definitely betraying her.

"The pleasure’s all mine, Y/N." He shook her hand. His strong hold sent shivers down her spine; the cold rings making a big contrast against the heat his hand radiated and she couldn't help but fantasize about how his touch would feel in some other places.

The sudden embarrassment feeling hot against her cheeks made her turn around impossibly faster, feeling guilty at the dirty thoughts consuming her brain while around her bosses – and in front of him. Making a beeline straight to her room, announcing she was calling it a night, she sent Harry a quick -but quite charming- smile, and couldn’t help but soften at the sound of Anya running down the stairs yelling an excited ‘Harryyyy’ once she was past the kitchen.

She knew she got lucky with her commodities – an entire studio-like apartment past the main kitchen of the house, where the servant’s area used to be located a handful of decades ago; but she cussed in a whisper when she remembered half way through her making of a sandwich (four hours after she’d retreated to her bedroom and because she decided on skipping dinner that night, not having enough energy to cook) that her lazy ass still hadn’t bought mayonnaise. Her small kitchen had enough space to hold her snacks, along with some ingredients to make a few meals, since she only had to worry about food on the weekends. Reluctantly, she took the small plate holding her sandwich and made her way towards the main kitchen. There was no way in hell she’d eat a sandwich with no mayo – never in a million years, too dry to go down her throat.

I guess they won't mind if I grab just enough to put on my sandwich, she thought. The house was quiet, everyone probably already in bed, therefore she almost pissed herself when she found Harry sitting in one of the kitchen stools, looking down at his phone with an annoyed expression adorning his face. Almost as if he could sense someone was in the same room, he looked up to find Y/N standing at the kitchen threshold, his face abandoning any sort of emotion.

"Hey."

"Hi." Y/N walked towards the fridge on the far right of the kitchen, opposite from where she came in. "Sorry, I thought no one was here."

"Don't worry, just waiting for Bella and Alex to come back down to have some tea, they're putting the girls to sleep. Would you like to join us?" He offered. And honestly, she'd love to say yes and just listen to him talk with that deep, melodic voice, but her stomach was really hating her right now.

"I'm good, just grabbing some mayo. Thank you, though." She declined with a small smile.

"Next time." He sounded more demanding than suggesting, which slightly baffled Y/N. "Can I ask where you are from?" He asked respectfully.

"A small town in the Argentine Patagonia." Y/N replied with her back facing him as she busied herself with the mayonnaise container.

"Never been to Argentina. Or anywhere in South America, actually." And when Y/N turned around, sandwich in hand ready to go back to her room, their eyes met across the kitchen and she felt the heat creeping up her neck for the second time that night. Y/N wondered how his gaze was always this intense – she wasn’t a fan of how they’d barely exchanged a few words and somehow she felt so exposed.

"You should. It's beautiful." She almost, almost, choked on her own words and when she looked down at her fuzzy pink socks and back to him to try and calm her growing nerves down, he surprised her when she caught him looking up and down her body – in any other case she definitely would’ve felt creeped out, but there was something about him, the fact that he definitely didn’t do it with the intention of her catching him (she noticed how he shifted uncomfortably on his seat after the exchange) and how he simply added a “I’m sure it is," afterwards, she knew she was fucked right then and there – she wanted him looking at her. Was that something bad?

But then – then she remembered how she was wearing her soft cotton pajamas, and she began wondering if he was just laughing internally at her outfit instead of checking her out like she initially thought. And just like a save from heaven, Bella and Alex appeared in the kitchen discussing who was picking Ivy up from her friend's house. "Hi Y/N, still awake?"

"Yeah, got hungry. Stole a bit of mayo, hope you don't mind." She shyly held the plate up.

"Please, this is your house too." Alex waved her off.

"Thanks. Gonna go back now." Y/N pointed towards the small hallway that led to her room. "Goodnight." Turning her body to walk away, she caught Harry's eyes, again, still staring at her, but decided on simply walking away, breaking eye contact, making that small interaction their last one for the night.

The following week consisted of Anya and Y/N playing lots of fun games, trying to get a word out of Charlie and Ivy ignoring her for the most part. Her relationship with each of them was completely different, each trusting her at their own peace, getting used to having a stranger around. Anya seemed the only one openly excited to hang out with Y/N every day, and even though she could tell Charlie didn't exactly mind her presence, she still hadn't talked to her as much as she'd like her to.

"What are you up to, Charlie?" Y/N asked the seven year old as she sat next to her in the big playroom they had on the main floor. Charlie kept her gaze locked on her drawing with a handful of crayons on her right hand as she drew with her left. "You're left handed? That's so cool!" Bella had mentioned some time ago that Charlie had a really hard time letting people in, Y/N knew it'd take some time for her to see her as a friend -like she wanted her to- rather than someone who gets paid to hang out with her, but Bella confessed Charlie was actually really excited to meet Y/N, which felt like a small relief, knowing she actually wanted her there – unlike Ivy. Charlie spoke only when necessary and struggled with making friends but her psych pedagogue said she's just really shy and that ‘once she breaks out of her shell, she's unstoppable’. "I love the birds you drew here." Y/N pointed at some small birds sitting in a tree branch.

"Bluebirds." She murmured.

Getting a single word from her was considered progress, in Y/N’s opinion, but that’s all she got for the entire afternoon – even after constantly sending comments her way while playing with Anya so Charlie wouldn’t feel left out, not a single word came out of her mouth. Anya mentioned Harry at some point while talking about her favorite doll (which Harry had gifted her for her 3rd birthday) and the flash of captivating green eyes almost blinded her internally (she couldn’t deny she’d thought about Harry every once in a while this past week)

And it wasn’t until later that same day, after spending a long while sitting alone in a nearby park, she got the chance to see him again – even if he had scared her (almost) to death, she couldn’t help but feel an annoying flutter in her stomach.

She would like to say she loved her long walks during the most unreasonable times at night, but her reasoning behind her late night needs of distraction didn’t exactly thrill her. It was during the quietest and most peaceful times of the day when her mind seemed to speed faster than ever before; the sleepless nights and brain-wrecking thinking of how alone and empty she actually felt, along with the laziness and reluctance when it came to things that used to make her happy weighed her down like carrying a sack of potatoes on her back.

As she was walking past her neighbor's house (the one where she had seen that man with the suitcases last week) she noticed someone sitting on the large porch. Weird, she thought. She hadn't noticed any movement in the house since that night a week ago, to the point she even considered it being empty again. The silhouette seemed oddly familiar though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

"Y/N." She slightly jumped as she heard them call for her, in a strong and deep accent. Was that...

"Harry?" She asked befuddled. Did he live there? She watched as he stood up from his sitting position on the outdoor couch and walked across his front yard to take a closer look at him stopping at the bottom of the short staircase that leads to the porch. "What are you doing up so late?" And then something clicked in her brain – he was probably the man she saw that night, with his suitcases. It made sense, how he probably got home from vacation the same day he had dinner at the Lockehold's – the same day Bella mentioned something about him being in Italy

"Can't sleep." He simply replied, with a small sigh. He then nodded to the seat behind him, and Y/N could physically feel her brain going a thousand miles per minute. She sat on the far left of the couch as he retook his seat on the right, "what are you doing up so late?" He repeated her question.

And Y/N repeated his answer. "Can't sleep."

So they sat in silence, what felt like hours barely being a few seconds. "Didn't know you lived next door." Y/N took the time to take in his side profile - sharp and long nose, the tip curving slightly downwards when he spoke the next line.

"Never mentioned it." He replied apathetically. The unexpected switch in his tone made her immediately shut up, and even though it confused Y/N as to why he would want her joining him if he didn't want to talk, she was dreading going back to her room alone to drown in her thoughts again. She'd take uncomfortable company over being alone when her head got like this, it helped her get distracted; overthinking this situation instead of the same scenarios that constantly lived in her head.

They again sat in silence for a while, this time for longer than a few minutes, and even though it was slightly uncomfortable, there was an unspoken understanding between them. He just wanted company, and so did she. This time, however, it was him who tried for conversation. "Why did you choose England for your Au Pair program?"

"I was actually convinced I was going to choose France," Y/N shared with a soft tone, "but when I met the girls in one of my interviews I just knew I had to come here. Anya was so excited about meeting me, she thought it was already settled." She ended with a small smile on her lips. The memory of Anya smiling happily at her through the computer screen even when she hadn't had met her yet warming her heart.

It was true, the fact that she’d chosen England because of the girls. She wanted to learn French – she knew her way around the English language pretty well; but the French family whom interviewed her didn’t come close to the Lockehold’s at all – she thought maybe the experience of living in a whole different continent with a wonderful family was better than choosing a place because of the language – the experience was being experienced either way.

"Anya is a very special kid. They all are." Harry declared, the left corner of his mouth turning upwards in a small half smile.

Y/N nodded slowly before asking, "How long have you known them?" She could recall Alex saying he was a family friend – but she had no other information about him besides that.

"A while." The small conversation went for a long while, he shared the real reason as to why he was awake so late, explaining how he has struggled with falling asleep ever since he was young, but besides that comment, he kept his life very private; not sharing much information about himself during their chat, and every time Y/N reciprocated a question, he would either answer vaguely or didn't answer at all, changing the subject with another question. "It's really late" He commented, Y/N’s phone reading 1:08am.

"Yeah, I should probably go to bed." She lifted her head to look at him, who was already searching for her eyes. Y/N cleared her throat when a few moments passed by, again, with no one speaking a word. She wondered what could possibly be going through his head at the time, but he nodded, got up and said, "I'll see you around, Y/N." Her name flowed so nicely out of his lips it made her knees get weak. Locking herself in her bedroom (after entering it by the door at the side of the house – which leaded straight to her room) she laid in bed trying to understand why they’d just hang out in his front porch way past midnight when they clearly didn’t know each other very well – or at all, better said.

First day of classes came by in a heartbeat. The first Monday of September Y/N found herself getting up earlier than she was accustomed to, since the girl's sleeping schedule was different during the summer. 6:15am read her alarm when she lazily threw the soft covers off her body. A quick shower and minimal makeup application later, she stood naked next to her bed checking the weather app, as to know how to prepare the girl's clothes.

After putting a soft pink sweater on and a pair of flared jeans, Y/N left the warmth of her room to wake the girls up. Going for Charlie first (since she didn't need any help changing into her uniform and Ivy used her own alarm) she didn't give Y/N any work at all, waking up immediately after softly calling her name once. Picking her uniform from her closet and leaving it for her to change, Y/N left Charlie’s room to walk towards the next door.

"Morning, Anya." She whispered as she brushed some of her hair out of her face. Anya’s little nose scrunched up and a soft whimper left her mouth as she switched positions, now laying on her side, "gotta wake up, love." Y/N shook her arm softly, and she finally opened her eyes, a tired smile creeping up her face as she noticed it was Y/N sitting next to her. Y/N left her to rub the tiredness off her eyes while she picked her clothes (since her daycare was at the same school her older sister's attended -Harry's school, Y/N couldn't help but think- her uniform consisted of only a white t-shirt with the school logo along with any pair of bottoms she chose for the day.

After picking up her cute small rain boots and help her get dressed up, Y/N did a cute hairstyle on her with the small butterfly hair clips she chose, and went back to Charlie's room to do her hair, Anya coming along.

They arrived at their school; a big, period-like brick building with hundreds of students roaming around and a beautiful fountain at the front – which actually made Y/N’s childhood look like a big joke; the school she had attended was located in the middle of the mountains in a remote field.

"I'll be here at two thirty. Good luck, girls, I'll see you later." Ivy walked away sending a 'mhm' her way to let her know she heard her, and Charlie offered a small smile along with a wave and walked away like her sister. Y/N took Anya off her car seat and helped her get out of the car, her tiny backpack sitting on Y/N’s right shoulder as she grabbed the hand Anya offered her.

"Mommy said I have the penguins' classroom!" She said with excitement as they walked through the doors at the right wing of the building.

"That's so cool! I love penguins, let's search for the door which has penguins on it, shall we?" Y/N suggested even though she could clearly see their door at the end of the hallway.

"Yes! This one has elephants," she pointed at the door they were passing, "look, butterflies!"

"Like your hairclips!" Y/N exclaimed, and she giggled nodding her head. "Ah! Look what we found..." Y/N pointed at the next door.

"Penguins!" She skipped towards the door, dragging Y/N along. They entered the big and colorful classroom where they found some kids crying in their parent’s arms, others being as excited as Anya.

"Hi there! Anya, am I correct?" A woman who appeared to be around Y/N’s age came up to them, scrunching down to be on Anya’s eye level. She nodded frantically, excitement dripping from her smile. "My name is Miss Pia, I'm going to be your teacher this year." She introduced herself, Anya gave her an even bigger smile and slyly asked if she could go meet her classmates, to which Miss Pia agreed, asking her to first hang her small backpack in the rack at the back of the room, taking it from my hands and running excitedly to do it.

"You must be Y/N, then?" Miss Pia asked, getting back up to her feet. She was short with blonde curly hair sitting high in a ponytail, rosy cheeks and a cute teacher apron on top of her regular clothes.

"I am." Y/N offered her hand.

"The administration office said we would be having an Au Pair this year, they always give us a heads up with situations like these." She explained, and Y/N nodded as she continued, "we have the parents, nannies or in this case, Au Pairs," they both laughed," stay for the introduction, you can leave afterwards."

"Perfect, I'll sit at the back with the rest of the parents." Y/N ended up staying for about half an hour, smiling at Anya every time she turned to search for her when something exciting seemed to be happening. She won't be needing any adaptation, as Miss Pia said, and she was dismissed right before they had their first trip to the playground outside, taking advantage of the fact that it hadn't started raining yet.

Right when Y/N was walking out of the building, she spotted Harry at the main entrance, reading something on his phone. He was wearing a navy blue suit with a white shirt underneath, and he looked even more handsome in the daylight. She made her way towards him, walking up the marble stairs (marble stairs! In a school?), and when he noticed her, he put his phone away and slowly (and trying to be as discrete as possible – which he failed to, again) looked up and down her body. Something about him giving her his full attention made her insides burn, and she couldn’t help but bit her bottom lip to suppress a smile.

"Hi." She stopped in front of him, taking a moment to look at his eyes; they definitely looked a lot lighter now that there was natural light surrounding them.

"Hi." He repeated, "Dropped the girl's off?" He motioned towards the building with his head.

"Yes, just left Anya’s classroom." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Miss Pia?" He asked, squinting his eyes.

"Yes. She's nice, looks like she knows what she's doing." Y/N shrugged. She didn't exactly know her enough to have a conversation about her – and she most definitely couldn’t be one to talk, since she herself didn’t know what she was doing half of the time. “How’s the first day back been so far?” He got cut off from his next comment by his phone, and the small crease between his eyebrows grew deeper, which didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N. "I'll leave you to it." She announced, but his eyes found hers again, and it was almost like he was asking for her to not leave him to it, but Y/N didn’t trust her instincts, not with him – not when he made her so nervous her brain couldn’t process things around him, and she was scared of misreading his expressions; he was hard to read. Not like she was expert at reading people but he was frustratingly confusing.

They didn't see each other again until a week later on a Tuesday evening – the same day Charlie, Anya and her decided to go for a walk and treat themselves with ice cream from a cute shop across from (what had come to be) her favorite park, Harry and Y/N found each other's eyes across his front garden, just like that night, but this time it was easy for her to recognize him as she could see his face clear and glowing from the sunset shine. His eyes were glued to her until the fence that divided their houses blocked his view, and again, Y/N wondered what could be going through his head.

It wasn’t until after dinner, past her work hours, she decided to leave the house through the door on her room with the sparking curiosity to test if she would run into Harry. Stopping on the sidewalk in front of his house, she noticed he was not sitting outside, and even though that's exactly what she had expected -he was not going to sit there for hours and hours, right?- There still was a small feeling of disappointment that rushed through her, and when she snapped back into reality, it was too late to stop herself as she knocked on his front door.

And Y/N didn’t know where to hide – not like hiding would be less embarrassing but God she did hate herself that moment. The embarrassment running through her veins was painful and made her lightheaded – she knew she had trouble sometimes with not thinking things through, but this was beyond her. He barely knew her. And suddenly his door was wide open.

"Y/N?" Of course she was not lucky enough for him to be asleep and not hearing her knock – life would’ve been too in her favor for that to happen. Of course he was very awake with a half drank cup of tea in his hand and the softest looking pair of grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips. "Are you ok? You look really pale." His voice was calm, probably the softest it'd ever been in her presence. At least he doesn't sound mad, Y/N thought.

Harry wanted to be confused, but he was more curious than anything else. For some reason, he felt very intrigued by Y/N – how she seemed confident but insanely insecure at the same time; it reminded him of himself, if he had to be honest. He just learned how to hide the latter.

"Uh, yeah- um, I was-" she nervously turned around halfway to look behind her and back at him again. He raised his eyebrows in curiosity and Y/N really tried her hardest not to step over her words. "I was about to go for a walk, uh, I was wondering if you'd like to join me?" Stupid. So, so stupid, Y/N thought.

"No, I'm good." He replied, finding oh-so-amusing the way her eyes gave her embarrassment away – he was having fun, watching her like a lost puppy trying to think through her next words.

Her mind was, of course, over speeding. She now felt even more embarrassed. Of course he doesn't want to go for a walk, Y/N conscience spoke to her, it's a Tuesday night and he's probably tired and I'm his friends' Au Pair – he probably thinks I'm this young and annoying girl who has a stupid crush and- "would you like to join me?" He interrupted her self-beating up raising his cup and she noticed the half smile adorning his face, almost like he could tell the wheels in her brain were fast-moving.

"Wouldn't want to interrupt-"

"You're not. I wouldn't have invited you in if you were. C'mon in, now. It's kinda cold out here." He disappeared inside of his house, leaving her on his porch with an open mouth and a blank brain. After closing the door behind her and taking her black vans off, she turned on her left as she guessed that was the way Harry went – and she knew she’d guessed correctly when she stepped into a big open-plan concept living room with a giant kitchen on the far back, Harry standing with his back towards her preparing her tea, "sugar?"

"No, thank you." She sat in one of the stools at the kitchen island as she took the scene in front of her. Her very cute (and much older), very hot neighbor Harry, in sweatpants and a very thin white shirt, a small patch of skin showing on his hip, making her tea. His shoulders were broad and she could see his back muscles moving as he poured steaming hot water into the cup, the little curls on his neck so inviting, if only she could run her hand through his soft looking hair just once-

"There you go. Cardamom." He snapped her out of her (probably inappropriate) thoughts, and she thanked him as she grabbed the cup from where he placed it; he stayed in his position standing in front of her on the other side of the island, with his forearms against the cold marble, sipping on his own mug, thinking about how strange it felt to have someone he wasn’t close with sitting in his kitchen after so long. "Why are you up so late?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"I figured. I couldn't either, looks like we both have a bit of sleeping issues, huh?" He sounded playful, but tired. Y/N knew exactly how it felt, being so tired but not being able to peacefully go to bed and get some needed rest.

"I remember you mentioning it before, I figured I'd check if you were up. Walking helps me relax, thought maybe you'd enjoy it too." OK, that wasn't entirely true but her reasoning to be there was quite similar – to check if he was up so they could, maybe, share a quiet night like that one a few weeks ago. None of them understood why they found such comfort in each other’s company – none of them felt like they needed to try too hard.

At some point during their conversation they moved to the couch, where they laid with a wide gap between their bodies. "Elton John's was definitely an interesting read. Lots of crazy anecdotes, you should read it."

"Probably not as good as Keith's, but I'll give it a go." He let a dimpled smile creep into his face, turning his head to look at her from across the couch and the annoying turn her stomach made obliged her to return it, just as bright as his. Finding out their music taste was quite similar made Y/N’s insides all warm and fuzzy, he showed her his vinyl collection (which was quite large) and ranted about how the modern industry was missing a rock star with some of that unexplainable essence old rock bands have – to which she respond saying maybe that something that makes them special was the fact that they were old bands... added to the fact that even though she was an old music lover, modern pop was her guilty pleasure.

Their third teacups were long forgotten on the modern coffee table by the time he noticed Y/N’s eyes were slowly beginning to close and he, as last time, said, "it's really late." And Y/N only nodded and tiredly got up from her position, with him following close behind.

"Goodnight, Harry. Thank you for having me even though I came unannounced." She shyly said, her actions still making her embarrassed even though it had already been a couple of hours.

"My pleasure. We should- do this again," He coughed into his hand, and uncomfortably continued, "I enjoy your company." That sentence alone made her heart explode with a thousand emotions, because even though they barely knew each other and it clearly pained him to admit he enjoyed having her around, his presence made her calm but anxious in a peculiar mixture of emotions. All she did in return was gift him a big smile, face hot of embarrassment (a nice kind of embarrassment, that feeling when you just want to smile really big and tightly hug whoever is making you feel that way) and slowly pushed herself up on her tiptoes to give him a sweet kiss on the cheek. "Bye." He said lastly, and closed his front door with red cheeks and dimples on display.

- Joey.

#AP #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #age!gap harry #my writing

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fiveisnumber1 · 3 years

Text

Timeless - Five Hargreeves x Reader

Main story parts:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28

_________________________

Pt 28 - A Family Reunion

Gently you and Five parted from your kiss as you finally took in air again. Dropping your hands from his face you wrapped your arms around his neck and nuzzled your forehead against his. You hadn't opened your eyes yet as you were taking in every bit of this moment. As you did so Five lowered his hands from your face and wrapped his arms around your waist quickly pulling you closer to him.

"Oh!" You let out, surprised at the sudden action

"Didn't mean to scare you there." Five comments as he holds you tightly

He had missed you so much. It had only been about three days but all that time was filled with the worry of if you even existed in this timeline, where you could've been, and if you still loved him after tearing you from the life you re-built. He heard you say it, that you love him, and he felt it in the kiss you just shared but he didn't understand how you could love him after he threw you into time alone, again. Five pressed his forehead back against yours as he tries to just appreciate the solace of having you here with him. As you held your boyfriend for the first time in years you could feel something was off. Pulling your head back, you look at Five. He looks back at you and you can see that something was going on behind his eyes. Gently you stroke his hair as you quietly ask,

"What's going on in that head of yours?"

Five looked at you, your head tilted slightly as your eyes searched his face for some type of answer. He melted at the feeling of you running your fingers through his hair and across the back of his neck. Five closed his eyes and rested his forehead against yours once more. His voice barely a whisper as he said

"I promised no apocalypse and no time travel and I left you in time again. Alone. I just...are you mad at me?"

"I could never be mad at you, I missed you so much." You replied gently

A smile crept to Five's face and a weight fell off his shoulders knowing that you weren't upset with him, but your response also amused him. It was the exact same response he had given you when he returned to the future. It was what he said to ease your worry that he was mad at you all those years ago when he left and got stuck in the apocalypse. Five tilted his head up and places a light kiss on your forehead before replying,

"I missed you too ma chérie."

As the two of you stood embraced under the night sky a voice came from down the alleyway calling,

"Hey (Y/N), you okay? You stopped talking to the universe."

You and Five both turn to look at where the voice came from and you see Charlie standing at the entrance to the alley.

"Oh Charlie, I forgot you were here." You comment

"FORGOT?! What do you mean forgot? Do I matter that little to you?" Charlie exclaims before quickly adding "Don't answer that."

Charlie makes his way over to where you are with Five. Leaving the embrace you grab Five's hand to hold as you gesture with the other one to your friend.

"Charlie, this is my boyfriend Five and Five, this is my friend Charlie." You explain "He's the one who kept me sane while I was stuck in this time."

"That's a pretty bold claim saying I kept you sane..." Charlie states before extending his hand out and exclaiming "But wow! It's great to finally meet you. She never shuts up about you."

"Charlie!" You say using your freehand to hit his arm "Don't make me mute you."

"DoN'T MakE mE mUte YoU" Charlie mocks

With his free hand, Five takes Charlie's and shakes it. A full smile appears on his face as he comments,

"I see she's rubbed off on you."

"Not entirely, but definitely too much." Charlie jokes

"Wow, okay." You say sarcastically

Charlie and Five stop shaking hands and Five let go of yours using that arm to wrap around your waist and pull you into his side. Five looks down and you before back to Charlie and says,

"Thank you for taking care of her while I was gone."

"Thank you for coming back and taking over," Charlie jokes before stating "I'm joking, she's the only friend I've ever had so it's been a great experience so far."

"Never a dull day." You add

"I bet." Five replies

As the three of you stand in the alley, Five catches something move out of his peripheral and looks up to see Diego passing by one of the windows. He doesn't notice any of you down in the alleyway though so, a thought comes to Five's mind. As much as he hated the way his brother had been treating him lately, he knew that his brother loved you too. And Diego definitely loved you more than him. Turning to you, Five comments,

"It's getting a bit chilly out here, why don't we head inside. Anyway, I think there's someone else who wants to see you too."

Five then tilts his head to gesture up to the window where Diego is and you turn your head to look. It was your brother. The smile that you had at being reunited with Five widened as you saw your older brother above you. You turn back to Five excited and Five says,

"Let's go. You too Charlie."

Charlie smiles excitedly and the three of you walk inside and start to head up the staircase. As you do so, Five quietly details a plan to surprise Diego. When you approached the door to the apartment you waited quietly with Charlie outside. Five entered alone and as he did Diego asked him,

"Where did you go?"

"Outside. I needed some air and I had a nice chat." Five replies bluntly

Five then closes the door which is your signal and you go invisible and phase yourself through the wall and quietly walk behind where Diego stood. The anticipation rushed through you and you wanted to just run and hug your brother but you know this would mean so much more.

"You had a chat?" Diego questioned, "With who?"

"With me." You said

Diego turned around to look at where the voice came from and when he did you revealed yourself. You looked up at him with a smile on your face. You can see Diego's face go through a series of emotions as he tries to process the sight of you before him. Shifting from shock to confusion to awe he looks on at his little sister before him. You can see him get misty-eyed as he slowly approaches you.

"(Y- (Y/N)?" He asks voice wavering

"Hi Eggo."

Diego quietly takes a few steps over to you before wrapping you in a tight hug. You could hear sniffles coming from him as he held you.

"Eggo are you crying?"

"What? No...I- it's just d-dust" Diego obviously lies

You looked towards Five and rolled your eyes at Diego's response as you hugged him tighter. You knew that your brother had missed you too and even if he was trying to act tough his true colors always showed through. As you held him a knock came from the door. Diego quickly lets go of you and pulls out a knife. A voice calls,

"Can I come in now?"

Diego poises himself ready to throw but you lower his arm. As he looks at you confused you open the door and let Charlie inside.

"Hi, I'm Charlie," Charlie says extending his hand again

Diego looks on at him confused before slowly taking his hand to shake it and replying,

"Uh...Diego."

As you all stand there looking at each other you can feel the tiredness of your feet from standing in heels so long. Looking over towards the living room you see some couches and decide to sit down. As you walk over there the others follow.

"Som how long have you guys been here?" You question

"Three days." Five replies

"About eighty for me," Diego adds

Diego and Five walk over to the couch across from the two sofa chairs as you sit down on one of them. As Charlie takes the other one Diego asks you,

"So how long have you been here?"

You look off to the side. You knew the number of days but actually realizing how long it had been...You were taken aback a little. You look towards them and bring your eyes to meet their gazes. Taking a small breath you quietly respond,

"one thousand, four hundred and eighteen days..."

Their jaws drop and they simultaneously sit down on the couch across from you. No words are said as they stare at you. Five could barely find words to say as his mind was racing too fast calculating the amount of time. Figuring out the amount, Five's eyes went wide with concern.

"(Y/N)...that's..." Five tries to get out

"Three years, ten months, and eighteen days." You state

"Holy shit," Diego says slumping back into the couch

Five's heart dropped and the weight that he thought had left his shoulders came crashing back in full force. You were here for almost four years? He left you for years on end...again? Five looked down at the floor ashamed, he couldn't dare to look you in the eyes right now. He cursed at himself internally for making the exact same mistake that he did the first time but more so he promised himself to keep you safe and he failed. Even if you had already said you weren't mad for what happened and had forgiven him, Five couldn't forgive himself. He needed to make this up to you. He needed to get you home. As he struggled to cope with what he had done Diego asked,

"So how old are you now then?"

"I turned 22 on October 1st, 1963." You reply

"Which is funny because if you were born in 1989 then technically you're also negative 26 right now." Charlie chimes in

"Yes, I am 33, 22, and negative 26 all at the same time." You reply

"Weirdo." Charlie jabs

"Thank you."

"How does he know that? Your actual birthday." Diego questions

"Well, I ended up mentioning some things about the future to him. I was here for almost four years." You explain

"Which don't forget, you still owe me another fact about it." Charlie reminds

"Yeah, yeah you'll get it in time buckaroo." You wave off

"Wait, so I missed four of your birthdays?" Diego complains

Diego was upset with himself that he wasn't there for you when he should've been. Sensing his change in emotion you try to cheer him up by commenting,

"I'm sure you were doing something really important though!"

You watch as Diego's demeanor rapidly changes. Quickly he sits up from leaning back on the couch and looks towards you with a fire in his eyes. He must be passionate about something then. Leaning over the coffee table he looks between you and Charlie before proudly saying,

"I'm going to save President John F. Kennedy."

"JFK needs to be saved?" Charlie questions concerned

He's going to what? Save JFK? He had to be joking. You knew your brother still suffered from a hero complex but had it really gotten this bad after the apocalypse?

"Diego, you're joking, right? JFK's death is a part of history, you can't just change that!"

"JFK dies?!" Charlie exclaims shooting up from his chair

"Listen (Y/N), I know I can do it. I can save him."

"Get your head out of your ass Diego, he's supposed to get assassinated." Five adds snapping out of his trance

"HE GETS ASSASSINATED?!" Charlie yells "(Y/N) is this true?!"

You finally look over to your frantic friend, there was no way to put this lightly. A grimace appeared on your face as you pointed sad finger guns in Charlie's direction. Weakly you answer,

"...that's your fact from the future buddy..."

"NOOOOO!" Charlie yells before plopping back in his seat and mumbling "But I like JFK..."

You lean over and awkwardly pat your friend's back trying to comfort him. This was going to take some time for him though. As you tried your best to help Charlie, Diego and Five bickered over the plan to save JFK.

"You stay out of this Five. This is between me and my sister. I'm going to save the president, (Y/N) do you want in?"

"Diego, I love you but this plan is irrational."

"Thank you! Finally someone with a sense of reason!" Five exclaims "It's this behavior that got him thrown into a psych ward!"

"You were in a psych ward?" You ask

Diego tries to stutter out a reply to you but before he could say anything Five adds,

"Not only was he in a psych ward but he also decided to get with some overly suspicious crazy lady he met a few days ago in the psych ward."

Get with? What did Five mean get with? You really hoped it wasn't the meaning of "get with" that you were accustomed to. You could feel your blood boil a bit but you try to calm yourself down. Maybe this was all a misunderstanding. In a firm but steady voice, you ask,

"What do you mean get with?"

Five looks you dead in the eyes and in the most serious tone he deadpans his response,

"I mean exactly what you think I mean."

Your jaw drops and you look down at the ground in disbelief. You said no words but your face told the story of how you were feeling at this revelation. Anger, hurt, and disgust flooded your system because you could believe your brother's actions. Eighty days. He could get over a woman he loved for almost a decade in eighty days with some stranger he only met a few days ago. Wow. You whip your head to look at Diego and if looks could kill then he would already be dead with the one you were giving him.

"Did you forget Eudora?" You spat

"What?" Diego asks

"Have you an ounce of regret?" you chastise

Five and Charlie exchange a look with each other as they watch you yell angrily at your beloved brother, both knowing the reason why you would be so angered.

"(Y/N), I can explain-" Diego tries to start

You stand up from your seat and look down at your older brother. Your fists clenched tightly as you reprimanded him,

"Eighty days, huh? That's all it took to get over Eudora? You meet one psychotic harlot and that's it, no more Eudora?"

"I-" Diego tries to interject

"I what, Diego?" You rebuke

You took deep breaths to calm yourself but it was to no use. You began to shake as emotion overtook you. Tiny electric sparks started to fly off of you as your emotional buildup starts to seep out through your powers. Your voice wavered as you continued,

"I have been here for almost four years and I'm still not over her death. I loved her for five years. You loved her for over ten! You went on a tirade to get revenge for her death and yet you sit here now completely fine with throwing her away as if she was no one."

Charlie and Five look on at the scene before them but say no words. They both knew this was not something they should intervene in. Diego looks at you with a sorrowful look, water starting to well in his eyes mirroring yours. He opens his mouth but makes no sound. Summoning a knife you point it at your brother, your hand shaking vigorously as you hold it.

"I should kill you so you can confront her yourself and tell her what you've done." You choke out

You continue to point the knife in Diego's direction as you look him in the eye. You stare at him for a bit but then turn your head to look away from him. Stabbing your knife into the coffee table below you quietly say,

"I'm not going to though. I want you to live with the guilt of desecrating her memory."

You couldn't stand to look at your brother right now. You were disgusted at his actions. Walking away from the three of them you hear Diego stutter from behind,

"We-well if you're going to be m-m-mad at me then be m-mad at Five too."

You turn around and look back at the two Hargreeves boys.

"Oh really? Why is that?" You question harshly

"G-go on, t-tell her."

Five looks at you. He knew you were already upset, he didn't want to make it worse with the news that the apocalypse was happening again. You crossed your arms as sparks continued to fly off of you. Tilting your head slightly, you gave him a look as if to say "go on". Five knew that he had to tell you at some point so he might as well get it over with now. Carefully, he broached the topic, calmly stating,

"The apocalypse followed us here and we have six days to stop it."

The room was silent as you stared blankly at your brother and Five.

"What the fuck!" Charlie exclaims breaking the silence

"Couldn't have put it better myself." You reply bluntly

"(Y/N)-" Five tries to start

"No no no, if you're worried I'm upset at you Five, I'm not. Today has been...a day and I'm ready to stop experiencing this day." You explain calmly "We can talk tomorrow but for right now point me to where I can knock out for a few hours."

"Well, Elliott and Luther are shoved into the darkroom so you can take the bedroom. It's straight down the hall." Five replies

"Thank you. Charlie, you make the phone call, I'm going to bed. Five if you decide to sleep tonight, which I highly doubt given the circumstances and how fresh that pot of coffee smells, feel free to come join me and get eight hours of rest for once."

"Absolu-" Diego starts to exclaim

You turn your attention to him quickly and harshly question,

"I'm sorry but do you have a comment to make about my LOVING boyfriend who spent FORTY-FIVE years in a WASTELAND completely ALONE to try and get back to ME?"

Diego closes his mouth and looks away from you.

"That's what I thought," You state before adding "Goodnight."

With that, you turn around a headed down the hall towards the bedroom to fall asleep. Once you enter the room you kick off your heels and plopped down on the bed. You were too emotionally tired to search for any sort of pajamas so you stayed in your dress. As you sat down on the bed and started to process all that was said you couldn't help but get overwhelmed. Your whole existence had been flipped upside down in a matter of hours and it was just so much. Quietly, you let out tiny sobs unsure of any other way to cope.

The three boys had watched you walk away and once the door to the bedroom closes Charlie quietly gets up from his seat and heads over to the phone to make a call.

"Look what you did. Now she's mad at me." Diego complains to Five

"What I did? You were the one to go and get with that psycho." Five retorts annoyed

"You didn't have to tell (Y/N) and her name is Lila." Diego replies

"I don't care about her name and you shouldn't either. Also, I'm not going to lie to my girlfriend." Five complains standing up from the couch "Now if you need me I'm going to go get eight hours of sleep with my girlfriend."

Diego looks at Five angrily as he walks away and towards the bedroom. As Five walks through the kitchen he sees Charlie hanging up the phone.

"Charlie, you can take the couch for the night." Five states before turning to Diego "Diego get off it so he can sleep."

"You're the worst brother ever," Diego replies standing up and moving to one of the sofa chairs

"The feeling is mutual." Five replies

He then walks down the hall and quietly enters the bedroom. As he opens the door he can hear you quietly sniffling. Carefully, he approaches the side of the bed you were on and sits next to you. Gently, he strokes your hair as he asks,

"Are you okay, my love?"

"No." You quietly reply

"Is it because of Diego or the apocalypse?"

"It's- it's just a lot for one day..."

"I know darling." Five softly replies "And I'm sorry. I never wanted anything like this to happen."

The two of you sat on the bed silently and slowly you leaned over and rested your head on your boyfriend's shoulder. Five wrapped an arm around you and held you against him. He hated seeing you so upset. Five tried to think about a way to make you feel better, something to help ease the distress you were going through. An idea came to his head and he stood up from the bed. Turning to you he extending his hand for you to take it. You looked at him quizzically.

"What are you doing?" You asked

A boyish smile appears on his face as he answers,

"We didn't get a chance to dance at the consulate."

Your eyes start to dry and a smile reappears on your face as you take his hand. Standing up Five holds you against him as the two of you start to sway in the dark room with only the light of the moon to guide you. From outside you can hear the sound of a radio playing Elvis Presley's Can't Help Falling In Love and using your powers you open the bedroom window so the sound is clearer. You and Five locked eyes with each other and the world started to fade away. The apocalypse and all the other worries you two faced were irrelevant at this moment. Five slowly leaned his head down and pressed his lips against yours. Unlike the kiss when you reunited earlier, this one was soft and gentle rather than passionate and needy, but the emotion expressed in it was just as strong. This was all either of you needed, and just like the song, neither of you could help falling in love with the other. Parting from the kiss you rest your head on his chest and as you continue to say you can feel yourself getting tired. Five sensed it and asked,

"Tired love?"

You slowly nodded your head. Guiding you back to the bed, Five helped your tired self get in under the covers. Making his way to the other side of the bed he kicks off his shoes before removing his jacket, vest, and tie, laying them nicely on a nearby chair. As he approaches the bed you lift the covers up so he can slide in next to you. You roll towards him, wrapping your arms around his waist and placing your head on his chest. Five wraps his arms back around you and rests his head on top of yours. As he slowly runs his hand up and down your back he says,

"As long as we have each other everything will turn out fine."

You nod your head lightly and Five places a gentle kiss on the top of it. You had missed all of this more than words could express. The memory of being close to Five had started to fade over your years and you started to forget what it was like to hold your boyfriend, dance with him, and just exist with him. But getting to share this with him once more you knew that there was no need to worry because he wouldn't leave your side. Closing your eyes, you start to listen to the beating of Five's heart, and soon enough you managed to fall asleep. Five watched as you slept holding you tight against him. He was worried he'd lose you again if he let go even for a second. You were so resilient, finding your way in a new world after he had dropped you in it a second time, and yet you still found it in your heart to love him. Five didn't know what he did to deserve you, what he did to get to call you his one and only, but he was going to stop this apocalypse no matter what and he was going to make it up to you for leaving you here so long.

The night went on and Five closed his eyes but when he opened them again light was peering through the blinds of the bedroom. It was morning. He had actually slept. Outside the bedroom, he could hear the sounds of chatter in the kitchen. He blinked a few times trying to get the feeling of sleep to go away to no avail. He needed a coffee but you were still peacefully sleeping on top of him and he didn't want to wake you. He smiled at the sight of you. The rays of sunshine lit up your messy hair giving you a radiant glow. A wave of feeling came over Five and compelled him to kiss you and so just like the night before he placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head. And just like Sleeping Beauty, you started to wake at the feeling of a kiss from your one true love. You let out a yawn as your eyes flutter open halfway. The world was still a blur but you could tell from the amount of light that it was day.

"It's morning," you slur still half asleep

Five chuckles to himself at your groggy response. Adorable. He looks at your tired face and replies,

"Yes, it is. Good morning,"

You did not want to deal with all the revelations from the night before nor did you want to deal with whatever else the world was going to throw at you given that it was being flipped on its head again. You nuzzled your face deeper into Five's chest and you stated muffled,

"I don't want to get up,"

"Neither do I, but if you recall there is an apocalypse to stop."

"Can't we deal with it tomorrow?" you ask

"Unfortunately, that's not really an option."

You let out a huff. Maybe if you refused to get up he would just willingly stay. That was not the case though because Five sat up from laying in bed and looked down towards you. If the impending apocalypse wasn't occurring he'd happily stay with you all morning but the world was going to end and he needed to stop it. You look back up towards him with a grumpy look on your face that your plan didn't work.

"I'm going to get up so I can start figuring out a new plan, but you feel free to stay here as long as you like. Okay?" Five explains calmly

"Okay..." You mumble

Five takes your hand and brings it up to his lips placing a soft kiss on the top of it. Pulling away he looks at you once more, his thumb gently running back and forth across your knuckles.

"I'm going to go now but you come and join whenever you want."

You nod your head and with that Five gets up and puts on his vest, tie, jacket, and shoes. He heads to the door and walks out closing it behind him but not before giving you one last smile. You lay in bed for a few minutes but without Five with you, there was no reason to stay. You get up from the bed and look in the mirror in the corner of the room. Fixing your hair and flattening out your dress you decide to leave the room and walk out to the chattering of the others who were awake. You saw Luther standing by the stove, Five leaned up against a counter, Charlie sitting at the kitchen table and Diego pacing back and forth. You walk past Diego and sit down on the other chair at the kitchen table.

"No, no, no, I don't understand. They keep following me." Diego says, a scowl on his face

"What are they talking about?" You ask Charlie

"I don't know. I've been staring at the number of eggs that Luther has been cooking." Charlie replies

As you look over and see a mountain of scrambled eggs Luther asks,

"Wait, who?"

"Those Dutch sociopaths." Diego states

"They're Swedish, you idiot." Five comments "Hired guns paid to eradicate us before we do any more damage to this timeline."

"Oh. No wonder those guys said she's one of them when I fought them at the consulate. I'm one of the people they want dead." You mention aloud

"You fought them?" Diego and Five ask simultaneously

"Uh, Yeah." You reply bluntly

"We're going to discuss that later," Diego says before turning to Five "Why now? I mean, I'm fine for three months until you showed up."

"Yeah, I was here for a year and no one messed with me." Luther comments

"I had almost four years with no problems." You add

After you finish your statement another man walks into the room. He looks around at the people there before looking towards you and Charlie. Pointing at you two he says,

"I've seen you before."

Diego, Luther, and Five all look towards you confused.

"Oh yeah, four days ago I paid you a hundred dollars so we could. use your phone to make calls."

"You also threatened to gouge his eyes out if he didn't" Charlie adds

"You what?" Luther asks

Ignoring him you reply to Charlie,

"He tried shutting the door on my face and we needed a phone, I had no choice in the matter."

"Sure..." Charlie says sarcastically

"That's true but I feel like I've seen you somewhere else." The man says

Without another word, he walks out of the kitchen and into the living room. Odd. Diego then turns to Five and angrily says,

"I still don't understand how all of can be fine until you show up."

"Listen, even if it was my fault, which it isn't, we only have six days before the end of the world" Five explains "And the closest anyone's gotten to Dad was that driveway at the consulate."

Well...that wasn't exactly true but you weren't going to say anything. This wasn't the time. You think. As you decided to keep quiet you could feel someone looking at you. You look over at Charlie and see him staring at you intently. You knew what he was thinking in his head but you were not going to acknowledge him on it. Instead, you looked away, back towards the conversation at hand.

"Well...That's not exactly true." Luther says looking up from his eggs

"What do you mean?" Five then asks

"I saw him." Luther states

You and the rest of the group look on intrigued as Luther details the events of him seeing Reginald in person. The more he detailed the story though the more you came to a realization. That was your birthday party a year ago. How did you not see him or run into him? Your eyes then go wide as you realize something one more. You look over to Charlie who looks like he's going through the same realization. In sync you both whisper,

"The hobo."

Charlie gets up from his seat and makes his way over to the doorway to the living room. You follow after him and stand close by. The two of you stay facing forward pretending that you are still listening. Slowly as not to cause suspicion, Charlie leans over to you and whispers,

"You need to tell them."

"I'm not telling them shit." You whisper back

"(Y/N) they need to know!" Charlie whispers more aggressively

"This is not the time!" You whisper aggressively back

You and Charlie continue to whisper fight with each other catching the attention of the Hargreeves boys. They look on in confusion trying to figure out what you two were saying. As the two of you continued to quietly bicker, Elliott exclaimed,

"I remember where I know you from! You're Reginald Hargreeves adoptive daughter!"

You immediately retch at his words. You hated people calling you that, being his daughter is the last thing you wanted to be. The Hargreeves boys stare at you with the jaws dropped. They weren't sure if they heard Elliott correctly.

"Elliott, what do you mean Reginald Hargreeves, daughter?" Diego questions

"Well just look at the newspaper," Elliot says holding out the paper for Diego to take

Diego snatches the paper from his hands as Luther and Five move closer to look at it. The three of them look at the giant front-page photo of you smiling, surrounded by a group of people, as you stand between their dad and Grace. The three of them then proceed to read the front-page headline: Blasting America Upward: NASA Reveals Billionaire Reginald Hargreeves' Adoptive Daughter as Originator of Primate Rocket Test Trial Concept

"Elliott, why do you have this?" Five asks

"I kept it because the front-page photo includes Majestic Twelve member Michael Anderson," Elliott explains

"Ew, imagine wanting to keep a photo of my dad." Charlie comments annoyed

"HE'S YOUR DAD?!" Elliott exclaims

"Yeah, regrettably." Charlie replies "I'm Charlie Anderson. His son."

"Oh wow! A Majestic 12 member's son is in MY apartment! I have so many questions!" Elliott excitedly bursts

Elliott takes Charlie by the arm and pulls him over to his desk full of papers and news clippings leaving you to deal with the fallout of the revelation.

"We're you even going to tell us this?" Five asks quietly

"I don't know...Maybe? I wouldn't know where to start..." You try to explain

"Well start explaining then." Diego commands

"Yeah! Why does this say you're his adoptive daughter!" Luther questions angrily

"First of all, I'm not his adoptive daughter. The public always gets that wrong. The only thing I am is the heir to his estate, legally I am not his child nor would I ever choose to be. All of this happened by accident!" You exclaim

"What do you mean by accident?" Five inquires

You start to pace around and make wild gestures with your hands as you try to find the words to explain the circumstances. Everything was really just a series of events. Trying your best you start to ramble to them about what's happened.

"When I was dropped in the alley I passed out, went into a coma for seven days, woke up in the hospital and the first person I saw was Mom. She found me in the alley and constantly visited me while I was in the hospital. After I was released she took me in. We went to some meeting and met Reginald and some of his colleagues. I presented the idea to send a primate into space and everyone agreed with it."

"Pogo," Diego said

"Yeah, Pogo. And then Mom and Reginald started working together, unfortunately, started dating, Mom alone legally adopted, and then we moved in with Reginald and I became a public figure. Literally, everything has been by chance! Hell, even meeting Charlie was by chance!"

"That's true," Charlie comments trying to get away from Elliott

"Wait..." Diego interjects "You were in a coma for seven days?"

"Were you in pain?" Five asks concerned

"Guys, that's not what matters right now!" Luther exclaims

"Of course it matters! She was in a coma!" Five reprimands him

"She was in a coma FOUR YEARS AGO!"

"No Luther, this is important." Diego retorts "So you're okay?"

"I'm here aren't I?" You reply to Diego before turning to Five and saying "Don't worry I wasn't in pain."

"So that's why you were at the consulate yesterday. You attended with him." Five comments

"And mom," Diego adds

"Yup. I was forced to go because Reginald, Mom, and I are apparently an influential unit." You respond

"That man will say anything but the word family." Charlie jokes as he walks over to you, finally escaping Elliott

"Oh, so you've just been galavanting about with our mom and dad while you've been here, huh? That's what you've been doing." Luther accuses

"Luther, who cares what she was doing? That's not what matters. We need to get to dad because he knows something about time travel." Five ridicules

Luther rolls his eyes and lets out a huff before heading back to the kitchen table and plopping down in one of the seats. Grabbing his fork he starts to shovel eggs into his mouth. Elliott approaches the kitchen and asks Five,

"Wait, why don't you just do your thing and, uh, time travel us out?"

Five lets out a huff before walking over to refill his cup with coffee.

"Anyone care to explain?" Five asks annoyed

"First time he tried, he got lost in the apocalypse." Luther states

A pout comes upon Diego's face as he crosses his arms. Angrily mumbling, Diego adds,

"Second time, he regressed in age and started dating my sister,"

You look over at your brother. He was making it sound like the consequence of Five's time-traveling was not his physical age getting messed up but rather the fact that he started dating you. Unsurprising yet still unbelievable. "Last time I tried, I scattered my family, and lovely girlfriend over there, across three years in Dallas, Texas, possibly triggering a doomsday." Five explains

"Damn when you said he fucked up, I didn't think you meant he fucked up fucked up." Charlie leans over and mentions to you

"Charlie," you reprimand lightly, hitting his arm "That's my boyfriend, be a bit more sensitive."

"You said it first."

"I was summarizing..."

Unaware of the conversation you were having with Charlie, Five turns to Elliott. His signature know-it-all look on his face as he asks,

"Any more questions, Elliott?" "Uh, no." Elliott replies

"You're missing the big picture Dad is the ringleader of a sinister cabal that's planning to kill the president." Diego exclaims

Dear God, when was he going to give up on this whole save JFK deal? You knew the answer to that question. It was never. He had to save JFK or JFK had to die for this to be done. You had no clue why he was making these connections though. Granted you didn't associate with Reggie outside of what was necessary but you never got an indication that he was part of a cabal. Sure he had government ties but...a cabal seemed like a stretch to you. You knew wickedness resided inside of him but he would never assassinate the president, especially since Grace admired JFK so much. Would he? "A cabal?" Luther questions, his mouth still full of eggs

"Ignore him, Luther. Look, the way I see it, we only have one option." Five states to the group

"Oh, yeah? And what's that?" Luther questions "It's time to get the Umbrella Academy back together." Five replies "Hell, yeah. Family meeting." Diego says "Okay then, can one of you get Allison, please?" Luther asks "You two still a thing?" Diego inquires

Luther just looks at him without responding. Knowing something was up Diego leans in closer and quietly asks,

"Do we need to talk?"

"No, she's married." Luther replies upset "Whoa. Dude, that's rough." Diego responds "I can handle it." Luther lies "I'll get her. Can you get Vanya without, uh, squeezing her to death?" Five requests "I'll try." Luther retorts

Five starts to walk away and towards the stairs leading down to the ground floor of the building. You turn to Charlie and say,

"I'll be right back."

As you walk away you can see Elliott approaching Charlie out of your peripheral and from behind you, you hear Charlie call,

"(Y/N)!"

You kept moving on though and follow Five down the stairs to the front entrance. When you get to the front door Five stops and turns around to face you.

"Are you coming with me?" He questions, a smile on his face

You were thinking about it but then you heard from upstairs,

"Please stop asking me about my dad! I don't like him!"

You watch as Charlie tries to speed walk away from Elliott upstairs.

"Please I just want to know about him!" Elliott says following him

"I think I'm going to stay to keep Elliott at bay and Charlie from jumping out a window." You reply to Five

"That's reasonable."

"You'll be back soon?" You ask

"As quick as can be mon chérie." Five says before placing a quick peck on your cheek

He pulls back and you give him a smile which he returns before flashing away. Turning around you head back upstairs. Luther had left through the back entrance to go get Vanya so all that was left was Diego, Elliott, you, and Charlie. Elliott continued to push Charlie to talk about his dad and you could tell Charlie was getting frustrated. His dad was the last person he'd want to talk about, especially unwillingly.

"Please I've never even gotten close to anyone whose parent is high up in the majestic 12 before just tell me something!" Elliott begs

You watch as Charlie stops in place and turns on his heel to face Elliott and looks him dead in the eyes. Charlie's face was red and his expression was less than enthused. You hear as Charlie takes a deep breath in before bursting,

"You want to know about my dad? You really want to know? He's an awful person. Never loved me, never loved my mom, he only ever loved himself. Everything he does is for personal gain and status. He could care less about anything that requires emotional labor and has done the barest of bare minimum as a parent. He's an awful man, I want him to die soon and god do I hope he rots in hell once he does. Is that enough for you?"

Elliott nods his head and from the kitchen Diego comments,

"Amen, right there with you bro!"

Charlie walks off to the couch and quietly sits down on it. You knew he was upset, he hated his dad as much as the Hargreeves hated theirs. You had no clue what it was like to despise your father but you did know what it was like to despise theirs. Walking behind the couch you stood directly behind Charlie because you knew there was one way to cheer him up immediately. Extending your arm out above his head you reach your hand out flat before proceeding to aggressively pat him on the head. At first, he tries swatting you away but in time he starts laughing. When you can tell he's all better you stop and he looks up at you.

"So a family meeting, huh?" Charlie says

"Yup. You'll finally get to meet everyone in the flesh." You reply walking around to the front of the couch

"How well do you think it's going to go?" Charlie questions

"About as well as me and Diego talking last night. Probably worse." You reply bluntly as you sit next to him

Charlie gives a small nod of his head. He had this look on his face and you knew he was contemplating saying something.

"Just say it." you command

"What?"

"You're thinking about something, so just say it."

"You can't stay mad at Diego forever. He's your brother." Charlie comments

"I will do what I must." You reply crossing your arms

"You will try." He responds

You stand up and start to pace back and forth in front of the couch. Charlie knew you better than this there was something deeper than just being mad at Diego for meeting someone else. He agreed with all the points you had made before but he could just feel something was missing from your reasoning. As you pace around you complain

"It just doesn't make sense! He knew Eudora for a decade. That's approximately 3650 days plus two leap years so 3652. He knew this floozy for four. You know how much 4 is of 3652?"

"How much?" Charlie asks unenthused

"0.001 percent. It's a fraction of a fraction of A FRACTION!" You exclaim angrily

"Okay, so what's the real issue." Charlie questions

You look at him with a mix of anger and surprise.

"How dare you- I- uh-" You try to respond

You shut your mouth when you realize no response would come. He was right. That wasn't quite the real issue, it was part of it but it wasn't the root cause. You let out a sigh and look down at the ground. There was a far off look in your eyes as you sat on the coffee table across from Charlie. You thought about why you were truly upset, what was really making you tick and it hurt you to think about. You looked up at Charlie as you tried to hold a few tears back. Your voice wavered as you softly spoke,

"Besides my Mom, he and Eudora were the closest things I had to parents after I lost mine...We were a family...and it feels like he's throwing all of that away..."

"And you're losing your family to a stranger." Charlie adds

You nod your head lightly. Charlie stands up and reaches his hand out lightly patting your head. A small smile comes to your face and you look up towards your friend.

"How about we go for a short walk? Clear your head before everyone gets here. You know someone is going to mention you've been living with Reggie, so might as well get in the headspace for whatever reactions might occur." Charlie suggests

You nod your head once more and the two of you head downstairs to get some air before everyone else showed up. As you walked away Diego peeked his head around the doorframe and watched you leave, his face streaked with a few stray tears. In your fit of anger, you had forgotten that Diego was still at the apartment. He had heard what you had said and between last night and now he couldn't help but feel disappointed in himself. He still had complicated feelings in terms of Lila but he needed to figure them out because they really weren't worth you feeling like you were losing him to someone who had barely been around. He knew how awful that feeling was. Diego dried his eyes and put on a strong face as he heard Luther arrive back with Vanya.

Time passed and Five had arrived back with Klaus and Allison. It took forever to get them to come along though since they were both relentlessly drunk. As Five entered the building with his inebriated siblings he saw the other three up on the balcony above. As the sun shined in the room the six living Hargreeves all looked at each other. Breaking the silence, Klaus pulls off his glasses and comments,

"Oh, wow. I know this is impossible, but...did we all get sexier?"

Allison looks up at the balcony above. There stood Vanya in the flesh. She hadn't seen her since the night of the apocalypse. Her voice wavered and she said, "Vanya."

Vanya looked back down at Allison. Pure joy radiated off of her as she excitedly replied, "I can't believe I have a sister."

Vanya makes her way down the stairs towards where the rest of the group is and Luther and Diego follow suit. When Vanya gets to the main floor she stands in front of Allison. The two of them look at each other for a bit before Allison quietly states, "I missed you." "Thank God someone did. " Vanya responds

The two of them stand awkwardly for a second before opening their arms and enveloping each other. The two sisters happily reunited. Klaus attempts to hug Diego but Diego extends his arm keeping him at a distance.

"Oh, you are drunk." Diego states "Yeah. No, just a little... just a few..." Klaus says before noticing the hug going on "Oh, that's so sweet." Slowly Klaus walks over to his sisters and wraps his arms around them.

"Hi" Vanya softly says

"Hey, Vanny." Klaus greets placing a kiss to the top of her head

Five looked around and noticed that you were nowhere to be found. He was about to start asking questions when he heard the door to the building open and the sound of your voice speaking behind him.

"And so that's how I snuck me and my friends into a 21+ club at 16 years old." you explain to Charlie, unaware of the others in the room

"You what?!" Diego exclaims

Your attention snaps to the room filled with Hargreeves. You look around to see Vanya, Allison, and Klaus standing all together on the left side of the room while Luther, Diego, and Five stand on the right side. You then did a double-take as you noticed one more Hargreeves sitting in the corner on an old TV display. Ben. Something was off about seeing him this time but still, you smiled at him and he happily waved back. Turning your attention back to the living group you attempt to divert the topic by saying,

"Hey everyone! Long time, no see!"

"Hey (Y/N)! It's nice to see you again!" Klaus says buying into the diversion

Diego shoots you an upset look that only a protective older brother would give and you shrug your shoulders back. You see Vanya looking at you quizzically. She then asks,

"Are you my sister too?"

You now look back confused. Vanya knew you two weren't related so why was she asking that?

"She has amnesia." Five informs

"Oh." You express before turning to Vanya "No, I'm not related to you. Diego sees me as his little sister but I'm not a Hargreeves."

"Just because you weren't adopted by our dad doesn't mean you're not a Hargreeves. You're family." Ben comments from behind you

You smile at his comment. Five then proceeds to ask,

"Klaus. Is Ben here?" "Oh, uh... no." Klaus fumbles out before lying "No, unfortunately, ghosts can't time travel."

"What?" You say to yourself, a confused look on your face "Are you kidding me?" Ben exclaims annoyed

Seeing that this was going to be everyone, Five decides to move forward with the meeting and states, "All right, then. Let's get down to business."

Everyone starts to make their way upstairs and finds somewhere to sit or stand in the living room. Once everyone is settled Five takes the charge of starting to meeting and says,

"All right. First off, I wanna say I'm sorry. I know I really screwed the pooch on this whole going-back-in-time-and-getting-stuck thing. But the real kick in the pants here is we brought the end of the world back here with us." "Oh, my God, again?" Klaus exclaims as he grabs himself a drink

He looks around at the group and everyone looks back. He didn't know already? Realizing that he was out of the loop Klaus continues,

"All of you knew? Why am I always the last one to find out about the end of the...Oh, my God. My cult is gonna be so pissed. Five! I told them we had until 2019." "We have until Monday. We have six days." Five states "Is it Vanya?" Klaus asks "Klaus." Allison chastises

"What? It's usually Vanya." Klaus retorts "Do you have any leads, Five?" Vanya questions "Yeah, we have one." Five says taking a file from Diego

Five hands the file to Allison and she opens it to see a photo paperclipped to the inside. Her eyes go wide with shock as she comments, "Holy shit, is that Dad?"

"Yeah." Diego replies "That's him?" Vanya inquires

"Standing on the grassy knoll." Diego informs "Diego and I have been trying to talk to Dad about what exactly this means. So far, we've got nothing." Five explains

"Not nothing. He's planning to kill Kennedy." Diego retorts

"Maybe. But we don't know who or what sets doomsday in motion. Could be Kennedy, could be something entirely independent. But if we know something changes the timeline, we have to make it right." Five corrects "Yeah, but how are we supposed to fix it if we don't know what's broken?" Allison asks "Come on. Do the math. We know Dad's having shady-ass meetings with some shady-ass people. We know he's on the grassy knoll in three days to kill the president. So I think we all know what we have to do." Diego describes getting up from his chair "Talk to Dad." Five states

"Kill Dad." Diego says at the same time

Five looks back at Diego and shoots him a look while the others look around in confusion. Even Ben was puzzled by what was going on. He looks your way and you shrug your shoulders mouthing I don't know to him. "None of us are supposed to be here, right? I mean, what if it's us? Has anyone here done anything to screw up the timeline?" Vanya wonders

Everyone is silent for a second looking at each other with wide eyes. It seems like no one is going to say anything until Luther chimes in, "Diego's been stalking Lee Harvey Oswald."

"And you're working for Jack Ruby." Diego yells back "Allison has been very involved in local politics." Klaus slips into the conversation "Okay, you started a cult." Allison retorts

"Thank you!" Ben exclaims finally getting support "I'm... I'm just a... a nanny on a farm. I don't have anything to do with all of that." Vanya stutter "Well, maybe you do, we just don't know it yet." Allison comments back

Diego whistles loudly grabbing everyone's attention. With all eyes on him, he explains, "Listen to yourselves. Everything in our new lives is connected to Kennedy. That can't be a coincidence. Luther works for Ruby, Allison is protesting the government, Dad is on the grassy knoll, (Y/N) has been living with him for 3 years, Klaus is...doing something weird and pervy but probably related. See, clearly, we were all sent back here for one special reason: saving John Fitzgerald Kennedy."

"I'm sorry go back a second. (Y/N) has been living with him?" Allison asks

"If it makes it any better it was completely by accident. A series of unfortunate events." You explain

"Lemon Snickers," Charlie says to himself

"So close buddy. Good try." You reply patting his arm Everyone looks around for a second before starting to argue again with each other. Their voices becoming a cacophony of sound. You and Charlie look on at the mess that is a Hargreeves get together.

"You were right, this is worse than last night." Charlie admits

"Yeah, I told you."

From across the room, Five listens to the sound of his siblings arguing blending together. The loud mixture of noise sent him back into his memories. The awful future of if they don't stop this doomsday. He remembered the fire and destruction. The ash in the air and the bodies on the ground. A bloody mess in the exact same street just outside the building. And his siblings eviscerated by nuclear weapons, reduced to nothing. While everyone continued to argue you saw Five slipping into the recesses of his memory. Walking over to him you pull his hand out of his pocket and take it in yours. Five shakes his head slightly and looks at you after fully coming back to reality. He holds your hand a bit tighter before turning back to his siblings.

"Guys, you all die." Five states, his voice wavering as he spoke

You squeezed his hand, reassuring him that you were there for him. Taking a breath he hesitantly continues,

"I was there. I saw it. And I wanna forget it, but I can't. I saw Russian nukes vaporize the world with all of you in it...in a war that never happened until we brought it here. And Hazel gave his life to save us, so you may need to shut up and just listen to me. I don't know if the things we've experienced here are all connected. I don't know if there's a reason for everything. But Dad will. We need to talk to him before everyone and everything we know is dead."

Five finishes his thoughts and without a second to pause Luther gets up from his seat and says, "Okay, I'm out." "Did you even hear me, Luther?" Five criticizes "Yeah, I did. I heard a 58-year-old man who still wants his daddy to come and fix everything. Why don't you get your girlfriend to help you out. She's his favorite after all." Luther ridicules

Luther starts to walk away but you could feel your blood boil. Five had been through 45 years of one apocalypse, saved all of you from dying when you were unable to stop it and now was pleading with his siblings to help him stop this new one and Luther was just going to walk out? Unable to contain your anger you shout,

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Everyone turns to look at you, Luther included.

"Minus Vanya we all agreed to travel back in time. We took a gamble to save our lives, ended up here and now we're facing a doomsday. That's the facts of the matter, we fucked up by being here and now we need to stop it and get out. If Five thinks that your dad can help us then we should listen."

"Well, you can still count me out. It's time we all grew the hell up and I'm sure you can run on home to dad and fix it Number Zero." Luther mocks

"You know you're being a real prick Luther! For someone who wants us all to grow up, it's childish of you to still be mad that my number is above yours. A number I didn't want in the FUCKING FIRST PLACE!" You rebuke

Luther shakes his head before stating,

"I'm out of here." "Luther!" Vanya exclaims

"Come back." Allison begs

Diego gets up from his seat and starts following Luther down the stairs. You watch as Luther walks away. Maybe it was better without him here.

"Where are you going?"

"Save it, Diego," Luther says

Letting go of your hand Five spacial jumps down the stairs and in front of Luther. Looking him in his eyes Five commands, "No one leaves until we figure this out."

Luther stares at Five for a second before grabbing him by the shirt and tossing him over the railing. Spacial jumping once more so he didn't hit the ground Five lands outside in the alleyway. Straightening out his uniform he looks back towards the building and asks himself, "Jeez...When did the monkey learn how to fight dirty?"

Five starts walking back to the door to enter the building but hears a clatter coming from the roof above. Looking up he sees Lila standing there. Speaking the only words that come to his mind he comments, "Son of a bitch."

Link to Side Story Here: The Tattoo - “A Family Reunion” Side Story ________________________________

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seijuurouxryuu · 3 years

Text

zombies ate my neighbour (and turned into mince meat)

Title: zombies ate my neighbour (and turned into mince meat) Author: Shiro (TeitoxAkashi [AO3]/ seijuurouxryuu [tumblr]) Rating: T Pairing: Hibari Kyouya/Sawada Tsunayoshi/Yamamoto Takeshi Event: @khrrarepairweek Prompts: Zombie Apocalypse AU | Accidental Kidnapping Tags/Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning, Major Character Death, No Archive Warning

Day 2: Sky Day

06/05/2943

It was his birthday yesterday, the skylark who took over control of Namimori. He was interesting. His first reaction was not to hoard food, but to start a one-sided slaughter with the undead. He then ordered his men to put up fences around Namimori boarder, closing off the small town. He cleaned up the remains and burnt the undead.

Some, though, he kept caged in his compound.

AO3

13/04/2943

The sky suddenly turned red. It was not a gradual change, no, the redness came all of the sudden when the sun was still shining brightly. News was all about dooms day and judgement day and blah. Annoying.

18/04/2943

The sky remained red. Even when the sun sets, the sky was still red. No one knows why, all the scientists were scrambling to find the reasons and consequences of no night but they failed to discover something huge.

There were more rotting corpses on the street.

25/04/2943

They finally noticed; it wasn't dooms day but close. It was a zombie apocalypse, like those in the movies and fictions. Food and clean water ran low, none of the grass or trees or plants can be eaten because they had mutated. Even the animals were starting to mutate.

People were dying faster than zombies could kill them.

How ironic.

06/05/2943

Some, though, he kept caged in his compound.

07/07/2943

Hibari Kyouya. He finally cleared Namimori of zombies after almost two months. He organized food rationing, set up teams of guards for the boarder and people in charge of raiding food from nearby town. Some outsiders would find their way to the boarders and pled for entry, but Hibari accepted only those who were once from Namimori and young children or old people. The rest that are well and able were barred from entry.

It wasn't a surprise, honestly. Hibari owned and loved Namimori. He wouldn't let anyone who is not Namimori in and sabotage the peace. He was kind enough still to accept those who cannot sustain themselves in such trying times. "Those herbivores could not even fight against a tiny zombie animal, much less a zombie. I'd rather they not add to the number." He had said.

I think he was kinder than he let on.

28/07/2943

I got accepted into the youth team for zombie virus research. Hibari had established a team of researchers from a group of doctors. Their main task was to make use of the captured zombies Hibari had in his compound to find a cure--either to completely vaccinate everyone from the virus that spreads by bites or scratches from a zombie, or to reverse engineer and turn those zombies back to human. Honestly, the latter sound absurd. Even the adults said so, but Hibari was adamant that they figure out a way.

A week into the research, none of the doctors or scientists managed to find something; all these old fogies were too scared to approach the zombies even with Hibari watching close, even with them held down. Hibari almost killed them in annoyance instead if not for the fact he still needed their brains. That was why the Youth team was established. Because apparently the younger generations were braver.

More like they couldn't send those around them as cannon fodders, so they decided to push for kids being the cannon fodders. Cowards, all of them. Fucking cowards.

Hibari, of course, knew their plan but he allowed the setup of a Youth team anyway. He had said: "Whoever takes the sample can use it on their own or with their team--no sharing of samples outside of the team. You old herbivores may be smart, but if you don't suck it up anytime soon I will deal with your old bones faster than a zombie can."

In my opinion, that was the hottest shit I've ever heard in my whole life.

16/08/2943

The main researchers were all scared shitless by Hibari's threat so they finally took the samples themselves. The Youth team did too. We both use the samples separately, but every day we would gather together with the adults to discuss our findings. I honestly didn't know why Hibari allowed the Youth to participate separately because honestly, the oldest of us is only 24 and had not even graduated from university. None of us were anymore knowledgeable than one another, much less the main team researchers.

But Irie-senpai said it was because those old fogies were too stuck up in their old ideas that Hibari wanted more innovative brains to speed up the process. He also said with just those old bones, the world would have been annihilated way before they can figure out the cure.

I guess there were some truths in that.

Still, there were not much progress. Outside of Namimori, the zombie virus was still spreading. Hunters would go out and capture one or two back for us to check and to our horror, the zombie virus mutates from one person to another. It was practically impossible to find a permanent vaccine.

But we had to do it.

Otherwise Hibari would have our heads before the zombies did. That who-shall-not-be-named was an example.

31/08/2943

It was my turn to get another sample from Hibari's compound. There were around 20 that was kept, but out of the 20, 4 was permanent, and one of them was separately kept inside the house--the one no one has seen before. Even if the other 3 were rarely used to provide samples, that one particular zombie was never used.

I was curious and asked Kusakabe, Hibari's right hand, and gotten an answer that confuses me.

"That's Kyou-san's. No one else can touch."

I mean, don't all of these zombies technically belong to Hibari?

I didn't pry further though.

18/09/2943

I was collecting samples again when Hibari came back from his trip out of the boarders. He was as usual uninjured despite the blood and gore that stuck to his jacket. What surprised me was that he was carrying an unconscious boy in his arms when he walked into the compound. He was holding him tightly, yet the gentleness in his grip was not unseen. There was a clean blanket around the boy too, bundling him up into a burrito until only his head was seen--brown and fluffy.

Without even blinking, he gestured at his followers and tilted his head at yet another group of new zombies. "Take those samples today." He said lowly, as though to not wake up the unconscious boy.

I could only nod mutely as he swiftly turned and walked into the house.

... Did Hibari just kidnapped a boy from outside?

21/09/2943

We might have a new lead with the new group of zombies Hibari brought back. I can't write much though. Not because of anything but I just don't want to jinx it.

Still, who was that boy?

27/09/2943

As it turned out, the boy--or young man--was not kidnapped. He was originally from Namimori as well and was out of boarders when the apocalypse happened. He had only just managed to find a way to contact Hibari and Hibari went to fetch him. Simple as that.

Was what he said.

It didn't look simple to me. Sawada--that guy--told me that he and Hibari used to be from the same school and Hibari had helped him a lot of times. They were friends, he said. I think their relationship is more than that, but with how convinced Sawada was, I didn't tell him my conjecture. Not that I could anyway with how Hibari stared daggers at me when I chatted with Sawada.

How did I meet him?

Well, as it turned out, the breakthrough we had the other day was a success, so Irie-senpai brought me and a few others to Hibari. Oh, Irie-senpai was their friends too, apparently, so he wasn't surprised seeing Sawada.

After the discussion and greenlight from Hibari to proceed with the rest of the research, Sawada and Irie-senpai started chatting. Somehow, Irie-senpai introduced me and the other Youth members to him, and somehow, Sawada started chatting with me more.

I think he was bored with Hibari's constant silence.

I merely listened though as he and Irie-senpai recounted their past.

"Look, I didn't plan to go out of Namimori at that time. If it weren't for my uncle's insistence that I go visit him I'd rather stay here and possibly get bitten to death by a zombie." Sawada said. I don't think he was bored with Hibari's silence at all now.

Irie-senpai laughed. "By a zombie, or him?"

Sawada flushed red. How interesting...

"Shut up, Shoichi."

Hibari looked smug at the back.

10/10/2944

It took us more than a year, but we succeeded in creating the cure, much to the main research team's anger. We did share the findings with them, but those stuck-up old cows were adamant that what we did and the direction we were looking at was wrong. Now that we created the solution, they couldn't speak anymore.

Our next stage was testing; Irie-senpai said we have to try on the old zombies Hibari has, but unfortunately most of them disintegrated a few months before. Those that are still 'alive' were the 4 that Hibari kept properly.

Hibari did not approve the testing on them and argued a long time with Irie-senpai.

While they were having a sort of 'shouting' contest in the courtyard--honestly, I think Hibari did not bite Irie-senpai to death solely because he was the leading the research--I was having tea with Sawada.

Sawada didn't even look exasperated by their argument. Curious, I couldn't help but ask: "Why wouldn't Hibari-san allow us to test on those zombies?"

Sawada was dazed by the question. He suddenly looked down and smiled sadly. "Well.... Those four are our... Friends. Family. We... Well, the thing is, Hibari and I all hope for a cure to return them back to normal. They didn't exactly die, you know? They were bitten while alive, which suggest that they are still alive. We can feel that they're alive too, in fact, which is why... Hibari and I are waiting for the day to see them come back. Especially..." His eyes dimmed as he peered over to one particular zombie--the one Hibari kept carefully the most.

He quickly shook his head and continued, "I think Shoichi don't even want to test on them, but he had no choice because the newest batch of zombies might have yet another mutation that renders the whole thing useless. Only with the old batch he could tell whether we're all on the exact right track... But none of us wanted to test on them when everything is so uncertain now, especially during the preliminary testing where we don't even know the side effects..."

I seemed to have pieced something together.

I said nothing and quietly nodded.

23/02/2945

As it turned out, mutation rendered the whole thing unsuccessful, yes. But from the old zombies--not Hibari's four--we somehow managed to find, we were all on the right track. But now, we have to tackle the mutation and make a protein that can target the unchanging amino acids of made from the virus. It's all complicated stuff; I'd probably write a whole book about it if I do so I'll spare you, and my hands, from the details.

Interestingly, Sawada liked to chat with me whenever I go to Hibari's place for either more samples or discussion with Irie-senpai. I don't know why, maybe because I looked approachable? Who knows? Anyways, from him, I finally got to know who exactly the four zombies were.

The smallest zombie was Chrome Dokuro, Sawada's adopted sister when she was abandoned by her parents from a car accident. She died in the hospital when the zombie outbreak happened, and Sawada was actually relieved that she turned into a zombie at that time because she was going to die soon from multiple organ failures. He said that once she was cured from the virus, he was going to transplant all the organs he found for her--that was the reason why he left Namimori back then to find his uncle. I suspected that he has connection with the Yakuza or black market, but that was beside the point.

The next one was Sasagawa Ryohei. I knew him too--the brother of Sasagawa Kyouko. She is alive of course, just working in the food rationing team (She and Miura Haru were very scary if you jump queue during food distribution). Apparently, she was Sawada's schoolmate as well, and friend. The more you know. Anyways, Sasagawa Ryohei was Hibari's classmate at one point, and he had taught Sawada boxing once. They became friends after even though Sawada failed terribly at boxing--what he said.

The third one was Gokudera Hayato. He was actually not from Namimori, but he was Sawada's childhood friend. He was a half-Italian who lived in Italy. He had transferred to Namimori Middle School years back because he was fed up with his family (TMI much, Sawada?) and wanted to be closer to Sawada, so he came with Sawada's uncle, who was by the name of Reborn. (I've met him ONE (1) time and I would NOT want to again.) He was bitten by a zombie when he was trying to protect Sawada's adoptive brother and sister (just how many siblings does Sawada have?) and got turned. Hibari brought him back before he bit anyone else and locked him up along with Sasagawa and Chrome.

The last one, and probably the most cherished by Hibari (Sawada cherished all four of them but even I could tell he was saddest when facing this one), was Yamamoto Takeshi. I was surprised, because he was our resident baseball star. Before the apocalypse happened, he was the talk of the town because he was offered into the national baseball team. Sawada said Yamamoto was his childhood friend as well--and apparently Hibari's too--and he was bitten by his father Yamamoto Tsuyoshi, who changed while trying to protect him. Tsuyoshi-san unfortunately was killed and burned by a stranger who tried to help Yamamoto, who did not want to attack his father.

Hibari had almost killed that stranger for burning Tsuyoshi-san if it were not for the fact the stranger had tried to save Yamamoto. But still, Yamamoto was bitten and had turned into a zombie. All Hibari could do was bring him back and cage him up just like how he did with the other three.

Sawada looked very sorrowful when he retold everything.

All I could do is pat his shoulders and console him that the research teams are trying our very best to help.

And I am, trying my very best. I want to see them smile, honestly.

16/01/2947

Sorry, I hadn't had any time to write. It has been... 2 years, huh, since my last entry. I was far too busy--everyone was.

The sky had darkened further in red, the rain started coming down red, even the sun and moon turned red. Everyone could tell that the zombie apocalypse is worsening. Us research teams were even more aware.

After we found the cure, we immediately started tackling all and every mutation. We finally pinpointed a particular protein made by the virus RNA that is present in every mutation; it was the protein that changed the structure of a human's cells into 'undead' dead cells. It's like, some microorganisms can't survive in very cold temperature and would lay dormant but once the temperature rises it would wake up and start working.

Those 'undead' dead cells are the same. In this zombie stage, they are like those frozen microorganisms. Irie-senpai said if we can kill or render the protein unusable, we might be able to revert those cells back to living cells. The zombies can then be reverted back to humans.

First ten testing did not work. The eleventh test, the zombie's cells turned to normal cells but it remained in coma. The twentieth test, the zombie woke up as human once again.

After two hundred tests and a year of observation, we finally confirmed that it is successful.

The first person who received the cure serum was Yamamoto Takeshi.

He woke up 10 days after the jab and I saw Hibari cry silently at the side while Sawada grabbed Yamamoto sobbing.

They both smiled.

05/05/2950

We spread our findings and information worldwide--now no one is killing zombies but capturing them to be taken back to the lab for revival. In another 2 years’ time, I doubt there'll be anymore two legged zombies.

The sky was still red, everything was still red, but the progression of the redness seemed to have stopped three years ago. It was good news. Now, everyone is targeting how to reverse engineer the mutations of nature. It was the hardest part, but it was alright, I believe that we can manage it.

After all, did we not succeeded in bringing back humanity?

Cough. Let's not talk about this.

It's Hibari's birthday. He had wanted a quiet birthday with Yamamoto and Sawada, apparently, but both of them wouldn't let him have it and organized a party with everyone they know. They even invited me under the reason that I've helped them so much all these years. I wonder if they truly thought so, and not because they wanted someone sane to watch over them?

So, it was a party. A wild one. One that would end with Hibari biting everyone to death, but he didn't. I guess he missed the chaos during the silence he lived in when the apocalypse started. He tolerated all of us.

The highlight of the party was probably this:

Yamamoto actually proposed to the both of them. Sawada broke down crying while Hibari.exe actually broke. Hibari had frozen in spot for so long everyone suspected his soul had ran away. Until, of course, Yamamoto pulled him into a long kiss that ended up being a three way make-out with everyone whistling and jeering.

"Get a room!" I seconded that notion, Gokudera.

They didn't actually get a room of course; the party must go on with the protagonists. But it was a great party. Everyone was so happy.

I feel so happy for them.

Well, I'm very tired now after hauling all the drunks back home, so I'm going to pen off. I'm not sure when I'll write again, but yeah, see you soon.

Signing off,

-----------------------------------------

A/N: A SPECIAL THANKS TO KHR RAREPAIR DISCORD PEEPS FOR THE TITLE thenkew morcai senpai :3 <3

Hehehehhehehhe I loved writing this day entry the most. Maybe because its easier for me to write??

I'm finally free from the clutches of studying!!!!!!!!!!! Can finally post and write stuffs hngh.

Hope yall had fun with reading this!

[I apologize for any grammar, spelling, etc. etc. mistakes]

#KHR #Katekyo Hitman Reborn #khrrarepairweek2021 #Hibari Kyouya #Sawada Tsunayoshi #Yamamoto Takeshi #Irie Shoichi #Irie Shouichi #My Writings

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longitudinalwaveme · 3 years

Text

Victorian Flash

A weird AU.

Location: 1860s London

Flash #1: Jason Garrick, age 70. Born in the 1790s, has been operating as the Flash since the 1810s. (Queen Victoria took the throne in 1837, and he also lived during the reigns of William IV, George IV, and George III.) In his civilian life, he works as a scientist and as a university professor. Married to Joan Garrick (neé Williams).

Flash #2: Bartholomew Allen, age 40. Born in the 1820s, became the Flash in the mid-1840s. Married to Iris Allen (neé West), a (in this time period rare) female journalist. Member of the City of London Police. Iris works for The London Gazette.

Flash #3: Wallace West, age 25. Born in the mid-1830s. Became Kid Flash at 10 years of age. Nephew to Bartholomew and Iris; works a variety of odd jobs. Married to Linda West (neé Park), a young Korean woman he met while traveling the world (with super speed). The two have twins, Jason and Iris West (both age 5).

Captain Cold: Leonard Snart, age 38. Born in the 1820s in Southwark, the son of a (frequently drunken) tinker, became Captain Cold in the mid-1840s after a freak accident led to his pistol gaining the ability to shoot out beams of intense cold. Already a thief, the Captain used this power to seek greater riches….leading him into conflict with the second Flash. Cold is also the de facto leader of the Rogues, who operate out of Seven Dials.

Golden Glider: Elizabeth Snart, age 33. Younger sister of Leonard Snart (Captain Cold); born in the early 1830s in Southwark. Elizabeth worked for a number of years as a dressmaker, but her true passion was ice skating...and through this hobby she met the love of her life, Roscoe Dillon, Esq (better known as the Top), whom she followed into a life of crime as one of London’s most notorious female criminals at the age of 26.

The Top: Roscoe Dillon, Esq, age 36. Born in the mid-1820s, the only son of a shrewd businessman who started up his own factory, making himself thousands of dollars. Highly intelligent (an Oxford graduate), Dillon nevertheless chose to go into a life of crime in the late 1840s (for what reason, no one was quite sure), putting his not inconsiderable talents as an inventor to use in order to do so. He subsequently fell in love with Elizabeth Snart, the younger sister of his ally Captain Cold, at the age of 28, and the two claim to be engaged.

Mirror Master I: Samuel Joseph Scudder, age 36. Born in the mid-1820s to a poor widow who worked as a laundress in the Whitechapel District. By the time he was eleven, Samuel had turned to crime in an attempt to support her, and, by the time she was killed by cholera on his sixteenth birthday, he was entrenched in London’s underworld. However, what made Samuel unusual was his remarkable scientific aptitude-something that allowed him to utilize mirrors in ways undreamed of by the educational and scientific communities, and also allowed him to help form the so-called “Rogues” of London’s Seven Dials. Samuel is also quite fond of smoking cigars.

Weather Wizard: Mark Mardon, age 37. Son of a tutor and a former governess; younger brother of Clyde Mardon, a famous scientist who was making groundbreaking work in the field of meteorology. Unlike his sibling, Mark was something of a wastrel, prone to gambling, drinking, and hanging around with unsavory people. His life probably would have gone by without him doing anything of importance had he not stumbled into his brother’s lab while fleeing his creditors. His brother had died of heart failure, but he had left behind a most remarkable invention-a wand that could control the weather. Mark decided to use the wand as a way to pay off his debts...by becoming yet another of London’s “Rogues”.

Trickster: James Jesse (probably an alias), age unknown (but likely in his early thirties). James Jesse arrived in London with a traveling circus in the 1840s….and promptly took up a career of pestering the city’s greatest hero, the Flash, seemingly because it amused him. Not much else is known about him; though he is an expert thief and con man. He also invented shoes that use the power of steam to let him walk on air.

Heat Wave: Michael Rory, age 42. Born to rural farmers in the late 1810s; moved to London at age 15 after the family farm burned down under mysterious circumstances. Worked for a number of years as a baker before his bakery burned down (also under mysterious circumstances) and he disappeared. He resurfaced a few years later, working with the Rogues and armed with an incredible gun that shot flames.

Captain Boomerang: George Harkness, age 37. Born in Australia in the 1820s; joined Her Majesty’s Navy as soon as he turned 18, where he managed to earn the rank of Captain. He arrived in London in the mid-1840s after being discharged from the Navy thanks to a leg injury that left him with a permanent limp. This limp did not, however, prevent him from making the decision to embark on a life of crime. Thanks to his use of the boomerang-a weapon whose use he had learned from the native people of the island on which he had been born-the papers gave him the moniker of “Captain Boomerang”, and he eventually joined the Rogues of Seven Dials. He has a noticeable accent.

Mirror Master II: Evan McCulloch, age 26. A native of Glasgow, Scotland, where he was born in the mid-1830s. Abandoned as an infant, McCulloch was taken in by a Mrs. McCulloch, who raised him until her death from scarlet fever. Orphaned again at the age of 16, Evan turned to a life of crime. When his crimes in Glasgow garnered too much attention, he fled to London, where he stumbled upon some of the technology that the original Mirror Master, Samuel Scudder, had abandoned. Quickly mastering its use, he was soon dubbed the second Mirror Master by the press and the police...something which brought him into conflict with the original. However, Captain Cold thought that the newcomer had potential, and invited him to join the Seven Dials’ Rogues-much to the frustration of Samuel Scudder. Has a noticeable Scottish accent.

The Pied Piper: Sir Hartley Rathaway, son of Osgood Rathaway, an Earl, and Rachel Rathaway, his wife. 29 years old. Born into extreme wealth, Hartley Rathaway was cut off from his fortune and thrown out of his parent’s estate at the age of 18 when he told them that, when he came of age, he planned to give away most of his money to London’s poor. While wandering through the slums of London (after being mugged twice), he stumbled upon a mysterious flute...one that enabled him to control the actions of those around him. He used the flute to steal money from his parents and then proceeded to give the money to the poor. He soon became famous as a Robin Hood figure, and his fame eventually led him to become a member of the Rogues...none of whom know he is still technically in line to become an Earl.

Axel Walker: Age 15; a native of the Seven Dials. A street urchin with sticky fingers; Axel idolizes the Trickster and wants to follow in his footsteps. Most of the Rogues find him annoying; just useful enough to bother keeping him around. His mother is alive, but is always working and seems unable to control her son, and his father is a complete mystery.

If any British people want to correct me on my geography, I would appreciate the help.

#flash rogues #dc comics #fanfic #weird #@gorogues

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coureirsix · 3 years

Text

supernatural season 16 episode 4 - “lifeline” | ao3 link

it's roughly 11 PM on january 23rd when dean gets a call from eileen. he'd been out of the bunker with jack and cas for nearly three days; they'd taken jack to an amusement park. something about never seeing one before which reminded dean the last time he'd ever been to one, he was three years old and didn't remember a thing. which was fine, except that jack had wanted to go to six flags. he'd said something about finding old commercials with a dancing old man and the closest one was in kentucky. naturally, this wasn't an issue with dean. he'd driven farther for less, but on the way back he'd begun to realize that as he got older, the drives took more out of him.

they'd gotten back earlier that afternoon and had spent most of the day lounging around until the exhaustion got the better of them at around nine. well, except jack. who could have just driven back to kentucky if he wanted to. cas made sure he didn't want to. so, it's saturday night, cas is breathing deeply beside him, completely asleep, jack is probably watching TV in the dean-cave, and dean has been drifting in and out of sleep for the past 20 minutes when his phone buzzes to the tune of the Call Me Maybe song. it's the tone he'd set up for eileen because, well, she never calls. so, when she does call, it's usually an emergency flare that's followed up with an explanatory text.

dean's eyes shoot awake and he watches the call miss as he waits a second for eileen's message to come in.

dean, sam broke the tub. he can't get the hot water to stop running. SOS. please, my hair is disgustingly humid. his too.

and dean laughs. it was an emergency, but the kind that didn't have him spiraling into a depression. that was... almost nice, he thinks. they have normal people problems now. he leans over to where cas is asleep beside him and cas' trained as well as dean is. he stirs awake with the movement and opens his eyes in a half-awake gesture.

“sam’s in trouble,” dean says with a smile. cas’ eyes shoot open, but dean’s demeanour doesn’t change, instead he follows up with, “he.. broke his bathtub somehow.”

cas squints. dean laughs some more and gets himself out of bed. he’s gotta find the little duffel bag that they’d dedicated to tools that didn’t include weapons of mass destruction. it shouldn’t be too hard to find. the last time they’d used it was when sam actually broke a door off its hinges.

“i’m going back to sleep,” cas says, turning over as dean redresses. and dean laughs again. cas was grumpy when he was exhausted. it was endearing.

it doesn’t take him too long to get ready to leave the bunker. he finds the duffel bag underneath the bathroom sink and before he knows it, he’s pulling out of the bunker’s vicinity in the impala and headed toward sam and eileen’s place. the issue with them is they live roughly 45 minutes away. he texts eileen back, letting her know he’s on his way.

and dean thinks, as he drives over. that it’s his birthday tomorrow. well- he checks his phone, it’s basically his birthday. sunday january 24th, 2021. he didn’t think he’d live this long. he was the answer to the universe now, technically. 42. he looks down at his hands on the wheel. they’re worn. they’re the hands of a tired man who fought multiple apocalypses, multiple archangels, god himself. and won.

he takes a deep breath and thinks about sam. he loves his little brother more than he can ever explain. it’s unhealthy, probably, how much he’d done to save sam from everything. death, despair, sam himself that time he lost his soul. dean was there and willing to bleed for whatever sam needed. and he knew sam would always do the same. it was comforting. and even moreso now that they’d decided to take some time to really asses what was best for either of them. sam let himself want his apple pie life again. and it was the happiest day of dean’s life to see his little brother decorating the house he’d leased with eileen.

dean doesn’t hunt fulltime anymore. he’ll do an odd ghost job here and there, but mostly he mans the phones. he’s now FBI Supervisor Agent Harkness, police chief Richard Grayson, at cas’ request Texas Ranger Dean Swift, and at jack’s request Marlo Bridgers.it’s a living, he thinks. he still helps out other hunters and he passes off the bigger jobs to the younger people that’ve unfortunately ended up in the hunting life.

mostly, though, he and cas have been making up for lost time. they go out on dates. dates, like embarrassing 15 year olds. he’s taken cas to the movies, they’ve gone for walks at the mall. dean held cas’ hand under a tree and it was the most incredible thing in the world.

it’s embarrassing, it’s enough to make himself blush at the memory of it, but it’s also nice in that same breath. it brings him a sense of peace like he’s never fully properly known. because it’s about trust. and not trust in cas, not trust in himself, hell, the trust has nothing to do with either of them. it has to do with the fact that dean has finally let himself trust that things are going to be okay. that no matter what happens, he’s going to be okay.

and that’s what he thinks about when he’s sitting across from cas at the baskin robbins. that they’re safe. that things are okay. because they are, dean’s earned that much through his own tears and blood.

the sound of wind hitting the impala as he drives down the highway closer to sam and eileen is the melody to the memories of his life as it has been since they got rid of chuck and jack put god’s power back into the universe.

he pulls into the driveway of sam’s cookie cutter house. he’s in the middle of the driveway but dean doesn’t care and he knows neither sam nor eileen would care either. besides, the impala outshines the two normal cars they drive. he grabs the duffel bag and heads for the door, waiting for a second before the door clicks and he sees eileen in a crack in the door. he smiles at her.

“dean!” she says, visibly excited. dean keeps his smile on his face and waves, unsure why she’d be so excited that he’s here at practically midnight to fix her bathtub. she reaches out to grab his wrist and pull him into the house. she leads him through dark down the little hall that dean knows leads into the bathroom. dean notices there is no humidity in the house.

“eileen? is everything-” dean starts to ask when the lights flick on, blinding dean for a second before it clicks that it’s a party. it’s a party at midnight for him.

he sees jody, donna, alex, claire and kaia. sam and bobby among several other hunters dean had come to know. it’s a full house, yet dean notices the lack of jack and cas. there’s a stack of presents in a corner behind the kitchen, a cake with a single candle on the table. claire is approaching him with a party hat in her hands and an evil look on her face. dean glances over at eileen, who’s beaming at him. she knows what she did. led zeppelin comes through a little speaker in the corner, not too loud, but loud enough that its ambiance music now.

dean lets himself get wrapped in a hug from claire and then lets her put the hat on him before sam approaches him.

“this your idea?” dean asks. sam grins, but shakes his head.

“no, actually. i wanted to do it tomorrow morning. show up at the bunker with everyone, but, i know someone with worse intentions than me who said that tricking you into coming here at the moment of your birthday would be something you couldn’t see coming,” sam opens his arms and dean lets himself fall in. he hugs his little brother back and the emotions from earlier come back. he and sam were alive. dean’s greatest achievement in life was keeping sam alive and now here he was, reaping the benefits.

he goes through similar motions with everyone. jody gives him a hug and then leans up to kiss him on the temple. donna squeezes him so hard he swears his insides are flattened.

after a few moments of getting caught up with everyone, sam sits him down at the table where the cake is. dean rubs his hands, ready to light the candle in it when sam makes this “uh-uh” sound. dean looks up at him in confusion when eileen brings over a pie with those large novelty number candles set into it. 42 sure was a year.

dean sits there in the obligatory hot seat as everyone gathers around and sings him happy birthday. it’s awkward, it makes him blush and tears well up in his eyes, although nobody can really see it through the dimmed lights. and he looks around and his smile saddens a bit. he should have told cas to come with him. did sam not think to text jack?

he goes through the motions and cuts the first slice of the pie for himself and passes off the pastry to sam and eileen who take care of passing out the rest of it and the cake that’d been there. dean looks around, hoping cas and jack had been right behind him as sam brings him over a whiskey. it goes down ridiculously smooth. sam mentions he ran one last credit card scam for $3,000 whiskey for this. dean laughs and asks for another.

the night winds down fairly quickly, given it’s nearly three in the morning by the time everyone’s settled down into a less partying mood. dean ends up sitting outside with sam in some lawn chairs from walmart in sam’s cookie cutter back yard. eileen’s gone to bed and most everyone has gone home by then.

“you ever think we’d live this long?” sam asks.

“nope,” dean says without hesitation, “sammy, you died when you were twenty two. i died at twenty seven? twenty eight? god, i don’t even remember.”

“and those were just the first times,” sam says with an incredulous laugh.

“shit,” dean laughs with him, “yeah.”

“and we got out,” sam says. there’s a satisfaction in his voice that makes every single time dean died or did anything stupid for sam worth it. it’s a tone that dean knows means sam is happy. and that’s it, that was dean’s goal.

“we did,” dean agrees, taking another sip of the whiskey, “we beat hell, we beat heaven, we beat purgatory, we beat god.”

“kicked god’s ass,” sam affirms, “we get to choose what we want to do now. we write our own destiny now.”

dean reaches over and outstretches his glass. sam meets him halfway and they toast to that. dean watches sam pull his phone out and send off a quick text message. probably eileen telling him to go to bed.

they sit in silence for a while. and sam’s phone vibrates. dean watches him check it and not respond. trouble in paradise? he doubts it, but he doesn’t really know every single thing about sam anymore.

“i know you’re gonna tell me to shut up, but i do have to say, dean. thank you,” sam looks over at him.

“for?” dean asks.

“for everything, man,” sam has this look on his face like he’s going to cry, “you raised me. you were always there for me. im thirty eight, nearly sixteen years overdue if you hadn’t sold your soul to save me. i’m who i am because of you, and i like to think i’m in pretty good shape. and you, dean. i’m so proud of you. you’re the strongest person i’ve ever met. and i love you, and i’m happy that it was you that i got to have be my big brother.”

dean actually cries, but he turns around so that sam can’t see it. he composes himself in a second and turns back. he doesn’t have it in him to fight sam on the emotional distress this is causing him. instead he says, “thanks, sam. i’m glad i got to be your big brother, too.”

sam’s phone buzzes again. he checks it again and this time does respond. he sighs and looks over at dean again, “i gotta go. eileen says the bed is too cold.”

dean huffs a laugh and nods, “go fix that.”

sam nods and gets up. dean hears the door that leads back into the house slide open and then slide shut. and dean is left with himself at the end of it all. he sighs. he’s happy, he thinks.

and then he hears an unmistakable flutter.

“dean!” he hears jack yell. it’s louder given it’s three in the morning and most people in this neighbourhood are asleep.

“i’m so sorry,” jack says, rushing up to dean’s side, “we were planning to be there for the cake but it wasn’t ready and we kept trying to fix things-”

“fix what?” dean asks, curiously. he’s not mad.

“the-” jack stops short, looking behind dean. and dean realizes the missing piece of his birthday puzzle has to be behind him.

and he is. the angel castiel is standing behind dean on the cement part of the patio a few feet back, wearing one of dean’s old band tshirts under his trench coat. and there’s a book in his hands.

“happy birthday, dean,” cas says, a little smile on his face.

dean gets up. his foot nearly kicks the whiskey glass he set down with the speed he gets up at. and he doesn’t waste any time in grabbing the sides of cas’ face and pressing the most heartfelt, loving, tender kiss dean has ever given anyone in his life. there’s a warmth that always seems to be radiating from cas and dean wants to stick to it like a leech.

when he pulls back, cas keeps the little smile on his face and hands dean the book. it’s a photo album, he realizes, once he takes it and opens it. there’s- there’s baby pictures of him there. things that were surely lost in the fire in lawrence. as he flips through the album, he finds pictures of him and sam growing up. things nobody had ever photographed before, he’s pretty sure. at one point he finds a picture of him at age twelve, lying on roof of the impala.

“cas,” dean asks, in completely disbelief, “where did you get these?”

“i did!” jack says coming from behind dean in an awkward hug from behind, “i can still tap into the power of god if i want to. it wasn’t hard to pop into different points of your life and just take a picture.”

dean turns back and pulls jack forward to pull him into a better hug as he laughs. that’s somehow the craziest thing he’s ever heard.

“happy birthday, dad,” jack says. and he tenses against dean.

“did you just call me dad?” dean asks.

“no,” jack lies.

“right,” dean says, a grin on his face that he looks up and notices that cas shares.

“well, it’s kinda creepy that you existed for a second at different points in my life, but i love it, jack. a walk down memory lane, shit and all. i love it, thank you, son” and he leans down to press a kiss against the top of jack’s head.

“this what kept you?” dean asks cas as jack lets go and says he’s heading inside.

cas nods and he says with a little shrug, “it seemed like a kind gesture. i sort of gave him points to land on. that way he didn’t land in the middle of a hunt or something. i’m sorry, dean.”

dean shakes his head and goes to set the book down on the chair he’d been sitting in and he walks back over to cas. where cas is standing, there’s a cement step between the cement patio area and the grass that dean and sam had been sitting in. it makes it so cas is a few inches taller than dean.

dean finds himself turning around so that cas can come around him, head coming to rest on dean’s shoulder and his arms coming around dean’s middle.

“thought you were supposed to be sleeping,” dean says with a mocking tone.

“and miss your forty-second birthday?” cas asks, turning to press a kiss to the side of dean’s face. they look up at the sky and dean wonders how exactly he got there. there’s a feeling in his chest that he doesn’t understand, but he knows what it is. it’s peace, it’s happiness.

“i have a speech prepared for you,” cas says softly. his hands tap at dean’s stomach and dean brings up his own hands to cover them.

“right, right. something about how my eyes glitter like the moon?” dean asks, his tone is still jokey.

“something like that,” cas says, “and moreso how you’ve been the world’s lifeline and how i’m so happy you’re finally thinking of yourself.”

dean’s heart sinks a little as cas continues.

“you know sam loves you, you know your friends love you. you know that i love you with the wrath of heaven behind me. and somehow that doesn’t compare to the happiness i feel now that i know that you finally love you.”

dean’s face goes completely red. the warmth is different from the warmth of the next kiss that cas places against his cheek again.

“thank you,” he chokes out, voice breaking because he’s started crying again, “i... i don’t have heaven. but i love you with the power of a guy who fought god.”

cas laughs, “and won,” he adds.

dean’s blush comes down a little and he leans back just a little, so he can turn and meet cas full on in another kiss before turning back to look out at the normal neighbourhood sam’s found himself in.

“do you think we could do something like this? cookie cutter house. you me and the kid?” dean asks.

“if you think you’re prepared to let the bunker go, i don’t see why not,” cas responds.

the thought of turning the bunker’s lights out for good makes dean feel a certain kind of way. still, though. now it’s a thought that’s popped into his head. who knows.

for now, he’s content to stand there with his angel, looking out at the other backyards, at the stars while their respective kids sleep in the house.

#deancas #deancasfic #destielfic #HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAN #what's up it's 2 am and ive got WORMS in my brains #but this is cute.. i think.#.txt

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twstrhythm · 2 years

Photo

“Huh? What did you say? Could you repeat that? I couldn’t hear you.”

Technical Information:

Name: Sébastien Cadieux Nicknames: Pink Angelfish (Floyd); Monsieur Loud (Rook); Sirene (Sonne); Sebby (Sterling); Little Sheep (Matthew) Voice Actor: Kisho Taniyama (Chuya Nakahara, BSD)

Biological Information:

Gender: Male Pronouns: He/Him Age: 16 Birthday: October 22 Star Sign: Libra Height: 180 cm Hair color: Light Pink Eye color: Green Homeland: Queendom of Roses Family: Father; Mother; 3 younger brothers; 2 older sisters; Emmett Nightingale (cousin)

Professional Status:

School: Night Raven College

Dorm: Pomefiore School Year: First Class: 1-E Student Number: 2 Occupation: Student Club: Equestrian Club/Friendship Club Best Subject: Poison Making

Fun facts:

Dominant hand: Right Favorite Food: Crepes Least Favorite Food: Anything Bitter Dislikes: Mice Hobbies: Design Talents: Can create any design under 5 minutes

Appearance:

Sébastien has medium length light pink hair that he ties in a low ponytail with a golden ribbon. He has green eyes. He usually has a smile on his face. For his school uniform, he chooses to wear it properly because he sees it as disrespectful to deviate from the standard appearance.

Personality:

Sebastien is a proud individual and tries to make sure people do not look down on him. Out of everything, he puts a high value in beauty and honesty. He dislikes it when people lie to him about things and is not afraid to confront them about it.

Background:

Sébastien comes from a wealthy family who lives in the Queendom of Roses. His family runs a flower shop in the area, but he does not usually help there. Instead, he opts to help his family’s business by designing advertisements for their shop. These advertisements have been largely successful, and he has been able to expand the business’s reach.

His family was very accommodating for his hearing disability and had learned sign language to communicate with him better. However, this has led to Sébastien having trouble with making friends outside of his family. Kids in the town saw him as a strange individual and would tease him to test whether or not he was actually deaf. This often made him get into fights with other kids, so his family would have to go fix his problems.

After listening to some suggestions, Sébastien was sent to a magic school to be around people more. His parents had hoped this would help him get used to talking to people with differing opinions. Unfortunately, it never stopped him from getting into more fights and consequently expelled from the school. His parents didn’t give up hope on him and sent out a request for him to be enrolled in Night Raven College. Luckily, it was accepted.

Skills and Abilities

Quick Thinking: Sébastien is quick to come up with plans that help him get out of sticky situations. However, he has trouble factoring in other people because he cannot predict what they may or may not do.

Good Listener: Due to his Unique Magic, he is able to listen in on conversations that may pertain to a current situation.

The downside to his Unique Magic is that he tends to yell when it isn’t active. This has made it so that he is good at projecting his voice.

Quick on his feet: He is quick on his feet which has helped him to get away from dangerous situations.

Flexibility: He is incredibly flexible which has helped him to fit into tight spaces others normally wouldn’t be able to fit into.

Magical Skill: He is skilled in magic, particularly Fire magic. He has good control over his magic, but he is unable to minimize damage done to his surroundings.

Unique Magic:

Sébastien’s Unique Magic is called I Hear You. It gives him the ability to hear anything up to 5 miles away. It can be turned off, but then he will only be able to hear up to 5 feet away. As a result, he has a tendency to yell.

Chant: "Whispers and talk, oh so far away. Nothing escapes my ears. I Hear You."

Trivia:

Sébastien was born with deafness so he has a pair of hearing aids.

But sometimes he forgets to bring them to class with him.

He dislikes surprise parties.

He went to Royal Sword Academy for 6 days before he was expelled.

He had fought a student and broke some bones of several others.

He is part of the Friendship Club.

Friendship club is short for "Friendship because I got expelled from RSA for a stupid reason" club

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #twst male oc #male twst oc #oc: sebastien cadieux #sonne belongs to a friend

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edmundspevensea · 4 years

Text

𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆

in which john b’s sister needs someone to pick up her broken pieces after their dad goes missing.

pairing; john b x sister!reader

requested; yes

tw; mentions of big john going missing, depressing thoughts, anxiety

It’s raining, it’s pouring.

My eyes, oh they’re stormy.

And I don’t want to leave this bed.

It’s raining, it’s pouring

It’s four in the morning

And I don’t want to cry

But I need you here ‘cause I’m a mess.

You were lying in your bed, staring blankly at the white ceiling of your bedroom. Well, it wasn’t technically your bedroom; it was your father’s. But ever since he went missing three months ago, you slept in there every single night.

You rolled onto your right side, facing the window. You could see the moonlight faintly shining on the small waves of the blue water surrounding the dock. You stared there for a few minutes, feeling numb, yet at the same time, you feel as though there is a massive rock on your chest, and all you can feel is the burden. The burden of guilt, the burden of sadness, and the burden of missing him. Sure, you’ve become numb to the pain, but your suffering has never really ended. It’s like when you’re surfing with the Pogues, and they’re all having a great time, but you’re drowning.

Every second you lived through felt like a second of losing grip. Even when you were surrounded by your brother, JJ, Pope and Kiara, you still felt alone. Your dad was your one source of happiness. Whenever you were inside your house now, it felt like it was echoing with chaos and screams. When you’re surfing the waves with the Pogues, and you feel like you’re drowning - while everyone else around you was breathing.

Your eyes moved away from the window, and you placed your gaze on a new object. It was a picture of you and your older brother from a few years ago. You were out celebrating your birthday, and John B was beside you, a bright smile on his face as you blew out the candles on the cake.

John B.

It seemed as if all your emotions came rushing back to you, all at once. The numbness that you felt just seconds later exited your body, and your bottom lip trembled as you gripped tightly onto the sweatshirt of his you were currently cuddling in. You had stolen it from him the night Sheriff Peterkin had told you that your father was missing, and had cuddled into it every night. It smelled like him.

John B. He was the only thing you had left.

Without even noticing, you choked out a loud sob that echoed through the house. It was the first time since that fateful day three months back that you had cried. Everything was weighing you down, and this was the first chance in a long time that you had to let go.

A knock on your door snapped you out of your thoughts, “Y/N, are you okay? I heard sobbing.” the voice of a concerned John B echoed throughout the room, but you didn’t turn towards him. He waited by the door for a few seconds before speaking again, “Y/N, please turn around. You’re worrying me.”

Reluctantly, you turned around, focusing on your older brother. He was wearing some sweatpants, a light grayish-blue t-shirt, and his blue bandana was still wrapped around his neck from the previous night. Your eyes were puffy and red, and he watched as your lip began trembling again.

He slowly walked over to your bed, making sure to not overwhelm you. As he reached your bed, he gently sat down on the top corner of it, turning to face you. He gave you a look, and somehow you knew exactly what he meant. He opened up his arms for you, and you climbed out from under the covers to reach him.

As soon as you got to him, John B pulled you into his chest, his hand resting on the back of your head, which was now in the crook of his neck. He rocked you back and forth and kissed the top of your head as you just let it all out. You shook in his arms, trying to calm yourself, but nothing was working. Your breathing sped up rapidly, and you felt as if you were choking. This was strange to you, as well as John B. It felt as though your world was falling apart.

Despite his constant worrying, John B knew that if he freaked out, so would you. So he brought you further into his chest and whispered, “Y/N, you’re okay. You’re alright. I’ve got you, okay? Johnny’s got you.” Your older brother stroked your hair comfortingly, which calmed you a little bit. When you removed your head from John B’s chest, he kept pointing little things out to you; the blue of the bandana wrapped around his neck, the OBX logo on both of your guys’ t-shirts, a number of sea shells scattered across a desk in the room, and the slight tint of gray in the mostly white walls.

Once you were mostly settled down, John B turned to you, “Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you? What’s going on, sweet girl?”

You almost teared up again, but fought back to hold the tears in. You looked down at your lap, fiddling with your fingers, and quietly muttered, “I miss him.”

John B’s heart dropped. The last time he had ever seen you cry, or even mention your father’s disappearance was the night Peterkin came and told the both of you. Of course, it’s never easy to lose a parent in any way, but he thought you were doing alright. You both looked out for each other more often now, because neither of you wanted to lose each other, “He’s alright. We’ll meet him soon. You know he’s always strong for us, right? He’s a stubborn man, and I mean that in the best way possible.” he replied back in a low tone, offering you a small smile. Despite the attempts to make you feel better, he knew deep down that his words weren’t true. He just didn’t want to admit that your father was dead, because then it would become real.

Your eyes watered again, and a few salty tears rolled down your cheeks, “You’re everything I have left, Johnny. I’m so scared of losing you. I’ve lost everyone else in my life, and I don’t want you to leave me either.” you choked out, looking at him and focusing on the hazel, almost brown color of his eyes.

John B was about to break. Seeing you in this much pain broke his heart, but he had to remain strong for you, “You’re not going to lose me, Y/N. Not now, not ever. The Routledge siblings stick together, yeah?”

You nodded, whispering a small ‘yes’ and going in for a long hug. John B was hurting seeing you like this. You looked so fragile, so scared, and so vulnerable. In his 16 years of life, he had never seen you like that. So he just held you tightly for a long time, and you eventually fell asleep in his arms. He smiled softly, moving so he wouldn’t wake you up. As he gently placed you into your bed, he kissed your forehead. You weren’t asleep completely yet, however, so you muttered, “Good night, JB.”

But he was scared to leave you alone. So instead of sleeping the rest of the night in his own bed, he went to his room to grab a sleeping bag and a light blanket. When he reached your bedroom again, he silently walked in, gently closing the door so it wouldn’t wake you. As he settled down on the floor next to your bed, he whispered, “Good night, princess.” and soon fluttered off to sleep.

Little did he know that he managed to pick up quite a few of your broken pieces.

#my first request #i loved writing this #this quite possibly is my favorite imahine so far #john b obx #john b x reader #john b outer banks #john routledge #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #obx #outer banks

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

What The Stark Spangled F**k?

One Shot- Finding Rori

Summary: Rori gets a pet. And hilarity/chaos ensues.

Warnings: Bad language words…

A/N: This came to me yesterday and is inspired by my own fairground goldfish, Evans, who is 5 this year. This one fits in the timeline after “Changes”

The Rogers household for once, was reasonably quiet. It was a Saturday afternoon and both Jamie and Aurora were out with Bucky and Sam, leaving Katie and Steve with just Harry (and bump, which was still in the very small, early bump stages being 16 weeks or so). Katie was led on the sofa, Stark squashed alongside her n his back whilst she read a book and Steve was led on the rug with Harry, the pair of them drawing on a large piece of paper using the crayons that Stark hadn’t eaten. The little boy was happily colouring along, grinning and talking to his Dad as he went, occasionally glancing up at Moana which was playing on the TV, sometimes he would start to imitate the singing, causing Katie to glance up and watch him, smiling softly. Out of their 3 born kids, he had without doubt been the easiest one to deal with. He hardly ever cried or made a fuss, never complained, he was such a placid little boy. The pair of them had no idea who he took after as neither of them were known for their patience or calmness really. And frankly, compared to his sister who could be the biggest pain in the ass on the planet, it was a welcome change. Which was why they liked to make time for him on his own as when the other 2 were around, they demanded all the attention, something which Katie hated, and Steve knew was worrying her about when baby number 4 arrived.

But their peace was shattered as the security system alerted them to the fact the gate had been opened by “Bucky Barnes” and Steve glanced up at the clock. It was gone 5, he hadn’t realised it was getting that late in the day. He let out a sigh, and exchanged a look with Katie who had placed her book down in preparation for the onslaught.

Which arrived a few minutes later as Jamie sauntered into the room, baseball cap perched on his head backwards, followed by Rori who was clutching a plastic bag in her hand, and contained in which was…

“Oh you are kidding me, right?” Steve nodded to the offending fish swimming around in small circles as Rori held it up grinning. He looked at Katie who was trying not to laugh as he shook his head. Rori had been asking the two of them for a fish for weeks and they had persistently said no…and surprise, surprise here she was with one.

“BUCKY…BUCKY!” Steve yelled as Harry grinned, joining in and clapping.

Buck appeared in the doorway, looking at Steve innocently whilst behind him Sam carried some form of small tank which held a pink castle and some other ornaments along with some food, gravel and a filter.

“I told you not to buy her a damned goldfish Bucky!” Steve looked at him, shaking his head

“I didn’t.” Bucky shrugged “I won her one.”

“Fisheee!” Harry said as he toddled over to Rori to get a closer look.

“That’s…that’s a technicality!” Steve spluttered before he looked at Sam who shook his head.

��I had nothing to do with this man.”

“Don’t lie Uncle Sam.” Jamie said, dropping onto the sofa, Stark licking his face “You helped Rori pick the tank in the pet store.” “Traitor” Sam narrowed his eyes at him.

“You…” Steve pointed at Bucky as he stood up from the rug “Are the biggest jerk ever, you know that?”

Bucky grinned innocently as Rori turned to Katie who examined the fish before she gave a shake of her head and sighed.

“Well it’s hear now so we might as well set the tank up.” And just like that, the Star Spangled Diva once more got her own way, as half an hour or so later, said bastard fish was safely in its new home, the tank sitting on the corner unit in the den where Steve had placed it once it had been filled and the ornaments arranged EXACTLY how Rori wanted them.

“I think we should call it Klaus.” Jamie said.

“What the hell kinda name is that?” Bucky looked at him.

“The fish from American Dad.” Jamie shrugged.

“Ok, ok two things…” Steve looked at Jamie “One, me and your Ma told you that you were far too young to watch that and therefore were not allowed and two, I echo what Buck just said, what the hell kinda name is that?”

“The fish can talk.” Jamie said “And he’s German, used to be a guy until the CIA turned him into a fish and-“ “Ok, just no.” Steve shook his head “The fish is not being called Klaus and if I catch you watching that again, I’m gonna take the plug off your TV” “Oh come on dad, like you didn’t watch shows you weren’t allowed to when you were my age.” Jamie protested and Katie gave a snort.

“Yeah, like TV existed back then…” Sam snorted.

Jamie frowned for a moment before a look of realisation spread across his face “Oh yeah…” “Most Exciting thing we saw was the Wizard of Oz.” Bucky said, nostalgically “Man, Technicolour…what a revelation.” “That’s so whack.” Jamie mumbled.

“Ok, now you’re talking and I’m hearing words but…” Steve shrugged and grinned as Jamie aimed a dig at him which Steve easily dodged. The two began to play spar with one another, their laugher and exclamations getting louder until Rori cut across the noise as she moved her head from where she was looking at the fish in its tank. “I’m going to call her Dori.” she said. Steve stopped what he was doing, which allowed Jamie to land a punch to his arm, which in all fairness was pretty fucking hard.

“Ow…” He said, rubbing at the place Jamie’s knuckles at connected with his bicep and looked down at the 9 year old “Good shot son…” Jamie grinned and they all turned to where Rori was stood, Katie crouched down next to her as they both watched the fish. “What did you say Princess?”

“I said her name. Imma call her Dori, like in Finding Nemo and Finding Dori…” she shrugged “And it’s like my name…”

“Dori and Rori.” Katie grinned at her daughter “Hey, Finding Rori…gedddit?”

Rori grinned and Hi-Fived her Momma the pair of them laughing whilst Steve and Jamie exchanged a look.

“Nah, I think you should call it Dot.” Bucky said simply. Steve turned to look at him. “What? It’s orangey red…so was her hair…”

“No,it’s Dori” Rori corrected him.

“Dot is better.”

“Dori!”

“Dot!”

“DORI MY FISH, MY NAME UNCLE BUCKY!” Rori stamped her foot. And Katie turned to look at her, a firm expression on her face but it was Steve that issued the warning.

“Aurora enough!” he said sternly “Stop it, and you…” he pointed at Bucky who grinned at him “Stop antagonising her”

“Chaos, confusion…my work here is done…” Bucky grinned, giving Steve a salute. “Same time next week?”

******* It was a few weeks later when disaster struck…

“Steeeeeeve!” Katie’s yell hit his ears and he stiffened slightly, before he put down his mug and hurried out of the kitchen and into the den.

“What’s wrong?” he frowned. She simply pointed to the corner of the room where Dori’s tank sat and he saw the orange fish bobbing on the surface.

Dead

“Oh fuck.” He swallowed. “How did that happen?”

“Well, I’m no expert but I suspect the half disintegrated cookie at the bottom of the tank might be something to do with it.” Katie sighed.

“I told her not to feed it them.” Steve groaned.

“You’re gonna have to go get a new one.” Katie looked at him “Before she gets back because I can’t cope with a diva meltdown Steve, not today.”

“Me?” Steve looked at her

“Yes, you.” Katie said. “I was up all night as you know, I can’t stop puking, I’m tired and you’re not in today and…”

“Ok, ok.” Steve nodded, placating her as he dropped a kiss to her cheek “Right…leave it with me.” She smiled at him, leaned up to give him a kiss before she swept out of the den, Harry toddling behind her. Steve glanced at the dead fish before he pulled out his phone.

“S’up Punk?” Bucky greeted him.

“Me and you got a mission, a big mission.” Steve said, “Meet me at the Coffee shop in 30.”

And that’s how both World War 2 Veterans, the Captain and his Sergeant, ended up in a local Pet Shop an hour or so later with said dead fish in a Tupperware container, a very bemused assistant looking at them.

“I need one of these” Steve explained, showing the fish to him.

“You need a goldfish, Sir?” “Yeah but it needs to look exactly like this one.” Steve said.

“Ok, they all look similar…” the assistant began until Bucky cut him off. “No, you don’t know his daughter.” Bucky shook his head “When we say exactly the same, we mean, exactly the same…” Less than an hour later, Dori The Second was placed in the now cleaned tank, the 3 adults and Harry watching it carefully.

“Think she’ll notice?” Steve asked, looking at Katie.

“Hmmm, it looks the same to me.” she said. “Suppose we’ll find out later.” Steve was crapping his pants all day. And when he finally collected Rori from school, he was on tenterhooks until she headed into the Den after getting changed and having a juice box. He glanced at Katie, as the pair of them held their breath, and they thought they’d gotten away with it for a few minutes, until they heard her yell.

“Shit…” Katie mumbled, as they both headed into the room.

“Everything ok?”

“Why does Dori have a white spot on her tail?” Rori looked at her mom and dad.

“Where?” Steve frowned.

“There!” She exclaimed, pointing. Steve leaned down to look and there was the tiniest white spot on the tip of the fish’s tail, no bigger than a pin prick.

“Some fish get markings like that.” Katie said, her quick thinking kicking in “it might go again, or it might get bigger…maybe you should keep notes and some pictures, then you can track it.” “Oh, ok, yeah that sounds cool!” Rori grinned and Steve glanced at his wife, relief flooding his system.

A little later, once Jamie, Rori and Harry were in bed, Katie and Steve sat down to dinner.

“I can’t believe we pulled it off.” Steve sighed, spearing a piece of broccoli with his fork “I mean, of all the missions we’ve run…”

Katie chuckled, “You know, when I was a kid I had a goldfish. Tony got him for my 8th birthday, called him Flounder, you know after the fish in the little mermaid?”

“Yeah?” Steve looked at her.

She nodded “Yup. He lived for like 11 years…or rather I thought he did. On my 18th birthday Tony confessed that Flounder, who was at this point still alive, was in fact Flounder the 9th. He had in fact died 9 times and each time Tony replaced him without me knowing.”

Steve paused, his fork raised halfway to his mouth before he gave a groan. “So basically I’ve turned into Tony?”

“There are worse people you could have become.” Katie snorted as Steve shook his head, swallowing his food.

“Bucky is a dead man.” he sighed, “This is all his fault.” “Well he’d do anything for Rori.” Katie shrugged “She has the pair of you, and Sam for that matter, wrapped around her pinkie.”

“Wonder where she gets that from?” Steve looked at her “I mean, can you blame me? She’s basically Tony with your looks.”

A couple of hours later, after some TV and a cuddle on the couch, both of them decided to head to bed. It was still reasonably early but Katie was tired and Steve decided to go with her, he could watch TV in bed. They both checked on their kids, and Steve left Katie to tuck Harry in properly as he wandered over to Jamie’s room. He opened the door, Stark pushing in to take his customary place on the foot of the bed.

“Lights out pal.” Steve said gently as he dropped a kiss to his forehead. He reached for the remote, turning his son’s TV off as Jamie reached for his lamp, clicking the switch, leaving the only source of light as that which was coming from the hall way. “Night buddy.” “Night…” Jamie said, before he spoke again just as Steve was about to leave the room. “I know you swapped the fish.” Steve turned back to look at him, shrugging “I don’t know what you mean.” “Mom’s right, you’re a terrible liar.” Jamie said and Steve could just make out his face, a smirk was playing on his lips “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Rori…if you give me twenty bucks…” “How about I don’t, and you still don’t or you’re grounded.” “Grounding me aint gonna reverse time and stop me telling her in the first place.” Jamie shrugged.

Steve blinked. He paused for a second, contemplating his options. He could come down like a tonne of bricks on the kid, which to be fair was very tempting, or he could take the easy way out which frankly, at that moment, was far more appealing. And so, Steve Rogers, the first Captain America, once-upon-a-time leader of the World’s Mightiest Heroes found himself reduced to bargaining with a blackmailing 9 year old. His blackmailing 9 year old to be precise.

You little shit.

“5 bucks.” Steve opened the negotiation.

“15.” shot back Jamie.

“10.”

“Deal.” Jamie grinned. “Night dad.” “Yeah, whatever…” Steve grumbled, closing the bedroom door behind him. He stopped dead as he saw Katie looking at him, her hands on her hips.

“Did you seriously just let him do that?” she shook her head.

“Do you wanna deal with a diva tantrum?”

“Steve, he just completely…”

“I know what he did, Doll.” Steve sighed, following her into their room “And for the record, this is on you.” “Me?” she frowned as he reached out, his arms wrapping around her from behind, hands softly cupping her bump. “Yes, because that part of him that just blackmailed me, was 100% Stark.” he said, placing a kiss to her neck.

Katie tilted her head and looked at him with narrowed eyes. He arched an eyebrow at her and she gave a snort, shaking her head. “Who knew your own daughter would be your downfall.”

“She’s Tony but with your looks.” Steve shrugged “What do you expect?”

“Well…” she mused “You said you’d give him 10 bucks but you didn’t say when. You can point this out to him tomorrow, if he wants it he can have it when he’s tidied his room.” “That’s…sneaky” Steve grinned.

“Fight fire with fire Soldier.” she smirked “You pointed out he’s half Stark…well, I’m 100% Stark, which means I can out Stark him all day long.”

#what the stark spangled fuck #stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers x original female character #katie stark

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popculturebuffet · 4 years

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The Loud House Reviews: The Boss Maybe/ Family Bonding

Loud House weekly coverage continues as Leni is pushed into the deep end of responsiblity and taking over Lori’s old role of babysitter while her parents are gone and promptly drowns in a sea of comedy clubs, human body parts both on screen and in the fridge, old men in holes and indoor beach volley ball.

First things first: Last week I forgot to mention Rusty’s mustache freezing off as god, wether it be the judeo-christian god, Odin, that prick Zeus, the flying spagehtti monster or one of many other gods out there. Perhaps all of them did it at once out of hatred for the little weiner. Maybe one of them finally answered my prayers which in that case, that was nice and all but there are far worse things going on i’d prefer you took care of. Also the “stuff I couldn’t fathom” turned out to be just more loudcest, because of course it did. Loudcest is like David Spade, you think it’s finally gone or isn’t doing as much but then it comes around and makes the wrong missy and you waste 90 minutes of your life thinking i’td be so bad it’s good when it’s really just boring and a waste of it’s main actress talent. I lost track of that metaphor, but Loudcest is like david spade in that people like it for reasons I can’t fathom and it hasn’t quietly faded into the background for reasons I can’t fathom, though at least david spade was funny once. So maybe Loudcest isn’t like david spade. or maybe i’ve been taking too long with this bit.

But whlie last week was a bit wonky it also had a lot to setup.. but now it’s time to see what the show does with all the setup over, and a lot of new possiblities ahead. PItter Patter!

The Boss Maybe Ah now this is exactly what I was hoping for this season. New situations brought about by the year-up and all the changes it brought, with the same old heart and humor and character progression that drew me back into the show. This is the kind of episode i love and have talked about in the past and dosen’t fall into any of the shows usual pitfalls in the process. Just great. I could end it there but I haven’t shut up before why do it now. So this episode focuses on Leni who I talked about a bit last week and easily had the best plot and in general tends to have good episodes, both before and after the show became an ensemble piece, and even in episodes without her tends to slide in just fine. She’s always a nice breath of fresh air when she shows up.

I think that’s due to a number of things. For one it’s how sweet a person she is: She’s genuinely nice, kind and well meaning. While she is dumb as a box of rocks that resemble Pauly Shore, what I like is her stupidity isn’t malicious, or overused for misery. She causes comical injuries from time to time with it but she’s quick to apologize iff she realises it and usualyly has no ill will to anybody unless provoked or fighting Lori over a dress despite them wearing the same clothes all the time. I know standard animation thing but it’s always weird to me when shows with a stock outfit for a character have a fashionista, and prefer when shows have stylish characters actually change outfits like Kim Possible did with it’s title character, Xiaolin Showdown did with Kimiko and of all things LIttlest Petshop did with Blythe. Granted Blythe is a nothing of a character but still, credit where it’s due. But I do get this is also a nick show and they givet hem the budget of 50 cents and a network memo that says “BEG US FOR MORE MONEY” written in blood, so fair enough.

That aside she’s just plesant to watch. The other factor is Liliana Mumy. If you haven’t heard of her , she’s a vetran voice actress whose been doing this on and off since she was a kid, voicing Panini on chowder as a child and later going on to voice Beth in bravest warriors among other roles. Why she only does work so ocasionaly I have no idea but when she does she’s great. She’s also the son of fellow child actor BIll Mumy, aka the guy who as a kid played Anthony Fremont from the Twilight Zone classic “It’s A Good Life”, which if you haven’t seen it is about a small child who has the power of a god and thus can banish people who are “bad”, i.e. disobey him and thus rules over a small town as a creepy and cruel despot. Oh and he can read minds so if you dare to have a thought he dosen’t like your getting banished, with no telling what that means or where anyone disappeared goes. It’s good stuff. Highly recommend it, Mumy is absolutley terrifing and a brilliant actor even at that age and I wish he’d done more as an adult. I also bring it up because Lily played his daughter when they did a sequel episode during the UPN version of the show, set decades later and showing just what the little terror was like grown up... as well as what happens when his DAUGHTER gets the power. It was also really good and worth a watch after the first one. Good stuff.

TLDR: Leni is one of my faviorites, so’s her voice actress, i’ve rambled enough about unrelated stuff at this point.

We open at the mall, where for Leni life begins after schol, that’s when we bend all the rules time to hang with all her friends in the place where she belongs!

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I mean technically she’s 17 now, but she was 16 when she started this job and none of them were 16 by the time the show ended so nyeh. This started in season 3 when the show started giving the girls not just their own stories but their own supporting casts., storylines, love intrests etc. Luna and Luaan got their romance plots with Sam and Benny, Lori got her college plot towards the end of the season, Lynn’s friends started showing up in her plots more, Luna’s mortuariy club went from assorted background friends of hers to a full fleged supporting crew, and of course Lincoln’s friend group started to become a recurring part of his plots away from his sisters.

For Leni, being one of the only three kids that could legally work at the time, another possible plot to dig into, and with Luna having way less incentive to get a 9-5 job with her music to work on and the fact we’ve seen her use said music to make money once in a blue moon, Leni was a good choice. It gave her something she was good at besides fashion, even if it’s fashion adjacent and gave us a new supporting cast for those stories: Her boss Mrs. Redinger, your standard “i’m tough by fair” type, and her new friends Fiona and Miguel, two fellow fashion savy teens played by actors i’d never heard of but who do a damn good job and play off her well, with both being a bit sarcastic but Fiona being a bit more mopey and deadpan and Miguel being a possibly but defintely gay teen. Both play off her well by being more down to earth and more wiling to be negative, but still enjoyable enough to be around you can buy them being friends with Leni and their a stellar addition to the cast. I wish, much like we’ve gotten with Liam lately, we could see more of them outside leni stories. Their a treat.

But I really like Leni’s work there. Besides the cast it puts Leni in a role of responsiblity she excels at. My only real problem is her boyfriend, maybe I dunno, Chaz, one of the ONLY love intrests from l is for love to get mentioned again and one of the more intresting ones, never shows up despite also working at hte mall and the story potetial of them working for rival stores or the same store. I mean I can’t blame them for not throwing another love intrest on the pile when they had two ongoing romance plots, but now both Luna and Luann are on steady ground with their steadies, it’s time to pull that trigger, get off hte ground and eat that horse. Also let LIncoln have one again will ya? It dosen’t have to be stella but Girl Jordan is right there, i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again.. where is she. And if not her just make one you’ve proven to actually be really good at it.

Where was I? Ah yes the mall. Leni is doing great at her job, suggesting some gloves to scoots, who ceases being skeptical when a hunky younger man of 30 something compliments her on them them chases off after him. If you don’t remember who scoots was that’s the old lady on a scooter who makes troulbe and appareltly can still get it. Good for her. Granted this is coming from someone who ships eda and stan pines still even though it’s now revealed she’s 30 but... frankly I don’t think age is a concern with her and stan can make this joke, so it evens out.

I mean he would right? I”m getting off topic even more than usual, point is Leni is doing great and her boss takes her to the break room for cake room... it’s just the one cake but can you imagine a cake room? that’s the life. Just a fridgerated room full of cake.

Turns out she’s EMPLOYEE OF THE MONTH. And she didn’t have to chain squidward to an ancient battle ship to get it or anything. After some confusion, Fiona has to clarify it’s NOT her birthday because of course she does, Leni is proud. Full of cake and pride she tells her mom whose decided to reward her good job at work.. by dumping a bunch of respnosiblity on her. I kid. Rita is being somewhat resonable here. She asks Leni to take over Lori’s old role of babysitting/making sure the other 10, now 9 kids don’t burn the house down... no really she actually specifies that when leaving in the next scene. Which.. fair enough.. you have 11 kids, all likely to plug in a lot of stuff especially Luna and Lisa, said Lisa is a mad scientest who ends up nearly being the one to do it this time, Lynn has no common sense, and the younger ones who aren’t mad scientst are still reckless and vain and combattive respectivley so the odds of a house fire nearly breaking out on any given night are 1:1. But Leni in a show of self doubt that’s rare for her is scared (Though her revealing that by answering a question of how she’d feel about about babysitting the kids with “Scared” was fucking gold. I swear Lily’s deliveries are always so great. ), and while Rita assures her she’s not sure. But as I said, she is being resonable: While Leni’s not the brightest she’s kind, she’s been shown even before her recent major award she’s responsible, she’s babysat for other people’s kids, and she’s kind. I mean they COULD put Luna or Luaan in charge but while when I first read the preview blurb for this episode I was cuirous why they didn’t think of that or thought they would, this episode does a good job presenting WHY they’d do it, while other episodes fill in the gaps: Luna is a bit reckless and Luaan can get caught up in her bidness and as we know once a week goes through the green door and comes out a gamma monster fuled by the sound of her own laughter, a horrible mixture of the joker and madman.. the leader’s insane brother. I’m a huge nerd, you all know this. Leni is the right choice.

Despite her nerves Leni has little choice but to take it on and Mr. Loud proudly sees her out with ye olde english as he and Rita, with lily in a cute little knight’s helmet in tow, are going to a renisance fair to cater, with Lynn Sr needing the backup. And while you may say “what about his staff”.. their either going with and he just needs an extra pair of hands since it’ll be nuts, or some of them are staying behind to man Lynn’s Table while he’s out on his catering gig. I mean the man has plenty of time for his kids, he’s not at the restraunt 24 hours a day. Someone else has to run it when he’s gone. I asked internally why they didn’t just take them along.. then reminded myself that taking all 11 kids to the faire at once, without anyone to watch them and likely having to call in favors when jsuta s likely, Lynn Sr and Rita can take them all another day with presumibly free passes as part of the catering job as that sounds like the kinda thing he’d do. Also Senior’s into scarf’s now thanks to Leni, which I love. Looks good on him. Hank should give her a call. Ascots may be out but I think he could rock a scarf. I’ve had ventures on the brain. What follows is naturally Leni having several panic attacks as chaos naturally insues btu without Lori’s lifetime of experince dealing with it. IT’s a nice dynamic: Leni, as we’ve established, has always been sort of Lori’s sidekick, her best friend, her amigo. Sure they fight, siblings do that, but they’ll always be there for each other when it counts. SHe’s never really had to THINK without her or be without her, so throwing her into the deep end of taking care of the kids really leaves her shook. It’s a HARD job, it’s probably why the louds don’t bring in babysitters often: there are 11 kids to look after, 10 now and only 9 tonight but still a LOT of them and most of htem pretty high maintince. It was just easier with Lori because she grew up knowing each of them, knowing each of their weaknesses and putting the fear of her righteous wrath into them. They’ve spent their whole lives looking up to her, literally and figuratvely, as their big sister and respecting her as the biggest authority in the house that’s nto her parents, sometimes bigger. Those aren’t just big shoes to fill , their Galactus size and that combined with her big sister worship leaves Leni understandably scared, lost and frequently paralized with anxiety this episode. No really multiple times she just freezes and one times she screams. As someone with Anxiety disorder I related to this.. sometimes you either just break down or you just FREEZE from the stress and everything hitting you at once and have no idea how to progress while people are still barking at you to do something. It’s a lot but it was a nice touch that really added to her sympathy. And her anxiety is also understandable when she’s being hit with 80 problems at once, which i’ll tackle all at once here rather than in order as this episode has a really frentic and good pace: while it follows the formula of “Leni runs into a problem, Leni freezes, then Leni gets help from Lori twice hten mr.grouse, more on that in am inute”, the quick pace and great jokes help keep things from feeling too repetivie.

Anyways the chaos: Just from the start Lucy puts a possibly human liver in the fridge, Lana eats all the cookies then gets skunked by her pet skun, and Lola and Lynn get into a fight over 5 bucks Lynn found, and since Leni can’t just let one kill the other as nature intended she has to fix all this.. mostly by removing the smell with tomato juice and scaring off the skunk and cutting the dolar bill in half. Money dosen’t work that way as both sisters point out but frankly it’s Lola and Lynn, I don’t care who they feel.

Meanwhile two of my other faviorties get into a tiff over their room: Luaan turns it into a comedy club and kicks luna out, with Scoots and her new man returning. Again, get it girl, get it, and Leni, under Lori’s advice, pretneding to be a fire marshall.. only for Luna towarsd the end to turn it into her own rock club. Lisa creates a corossive super substance that burns a hole in the floor, Lana continues to grapple with the skunk and finally Lincoln and Clyde.. watch a scary movie despite Lucy’s warnings.. and Lucy does something else.. I think? It was a chaotic episode with a lot of set pieces so forgive me if I forgot one of them. Honestly she’s the most well behaved there.But yeah as per the cliche Lincoln and Clyde, after Leni gets the wifi fixed with Mr. Grouse’s help, they get super scared and freaked. Everyomne is freaking, the house is falling apart and Senior wants permission to wear a pinky ring via thought cloud.. which.. no man no. Scarves yes but no one looks good with a pinky ring. No one. And I say that as amporphous blob covered in hair, sweat and regrets.

As for how Leni deals with all this she leans on Lori, calling her twice, but at inportune times: during a golf game and at the library where said phone gets taken. Granted, I don’t get why she didn’t have it on silent, as I would in those situations, but then we wouldn’t have an excuse to include her and it feels necessary to show WHY Lori can’t just help all night or reassure her sister and with Lori gone the panic only intensifies. As I said she gets paralized with fear and later just outright screams.. which attracts an irate Mr Grouse, the next door neighbor who I need to watch more of’s episodes. Including 12 louds of leapin.. I know i’m way overdue on that. This december. Promise.

The old man who yells at Louds helps for a bit, helping get rid of a beach Lynn set up because she’s lynn, she has the consderation of a puppy, but eventually falls in a hole like most great heroes and most elderly people. I mean the ones up the street at the retierment home must fall in once a week. They get out of course because the assitant living mole lets them ride out as it digs into the walls. Or maybe that was just a hallucination. Eventually though the start at her job comes back as she calls the only people she has left for help: Fiona and Miguel, who are at the mall in chairs because of courser they are, and both are confused why she’s so helpless: She’s fantastic at work, she’s kind, confident and smart.. about certain things, she can do this. Besides helping her confidence with this really sweet moment they also give her a good tool for how to use said confdience from work: just treat her siblings as customers. It’s also a nice call back to how we’ve seen Leni learn way back in season 1 during “Driving Miss Hazy” we’ve seen that she can have troulble grasping things, but when you put it in terms she understands, like fashion, or shopping, or in this case helping customers with their issues, she snaps into it. She learns at her own pace in her own way, it’s why I think sh’es neurotypical, and possibly ont he spectrum like yours truly: while her stupidity isn’t part of that the unqiue way she processes things has me supscious. either way it works.

So with a new strategy Leni.. literally adresses them like shoppers, which is comedy gold. However it’s a valid strategy: besides the visualation part by getting them to form a line, instead of trying to handle 2 or 3 problems at once she simply handles them one at a time: She scares the skunk off again, shuts down both competing clubs in the older kids room, uses water to take out lisa’s universal solvant, gives Lola and Lynn 5 bucks instead of just cutting a ten in half this time, and in the sweetest moment of the episode, reads Clyde and Lincoln a childrens book to clam them down. Sure it’s a bit funny but their genuine relief and all threes adorable expressions really melt the heart.

Leni finally wins, just as her parents get home and congradulate her, Rita’s faith not misplaced. While Rita probably knew it’d be an adjustment, and frankly should’ve prepped her sooner, she knows her daughter and knows waht sh’es caapable of. Also Senior brought home meet and gives leni a turkey leg who gives it to the old man who now lives in a hole inside their house. That’s his home now. Mr Grouse is just there now. Or I wish he was. But I guess you can’t always get what you want epsecially if it’s an old man living in a hole in the loud’s living room. Someday. Final thoughts for The Boss Maybe: As you could easily tell I loved this one. Funny with a hell of an emotional core, and with great pacing espeially for a loud house episode, this was a joy to watch and easily one of the best episodes the show has done. Just a funny, breezy watch with a lot of subtext, intetional or not, regarding what we’ve seen of Leni and honestly i’m going to go with intetional. It felt really rooted in who Leni is, her relationship with lori, and her work without hitting you over the head with it. It just all flowed really well and made for a hard one to top for the season this early. I’m impressed and it gives me hope for the rest of the season.

Family Bonding

This one was.. okay. As i’ve learned the hard way from doing Amphibia when an episodes just okay it’s best to breeze through it.. but I can give it this. While it’s mostly a standard loud house episode the ending.. wasn’t predictable. That’s for sure. I mean.. it left me with only one thought really...

But i’m getting ahead of myself. The episode’s plot is standard for the most part: Lincoln’s obessed with a new spy comic book about a james bond expy.. okay so that’s what Sterling Archer did besides physical therapy for the three months between his waking up and Season 11. Anyways they soon get more exciting news from Lynn. New Neighbors! Before Rita can stop them, the rest of her family tramples over her and goes to make their aqunatince and of course be a bit overbaring with it before Rita rushes in with a spray bottle to spray them like a bad dog because frankly when your dealing with 11 people most of whom are really impuslive, sometimes dog training just works. You try raising eleven kids and see how long before your brain breaks. Anyways after introductions and the mom turning down cherry pie, you monsters, lincoln sees strange flashing lights and a device and is convinced something is up and unable to convince his family and on a spy kick, recurits clyde. Now why he dosen’t call on Stella and Zach I dunno. And yes I said Zach and not my boy Liam. I have my reasons: Stella, besides being a faviorite of mine, is a tech whiz as shown in one of the comics and in the cookie episode, and Liam is already a paranoid conspiracy nut and as we’ve seen with Dale Gribble, they can be suprisingly useful. I mean Dale is not the best on common sense but he knows goverment bilaws in and out, is skilled with a gun or a bag of pocket sand, and has danny trejo’s octavio, whose basically danny but as hired muscle instead of a master actor, on speed dial. I mean we don’t know if Zach dosen’t have a danny trejo on speed dial or not. We never asked. As for the other two while I love LIam, spying just dosen’t seem to be in his sizeable skill set and Rusty.. well rusty’s about as subtle as a man covered in screeching cats he glued to himself blowing an airhorn, while screaming the script to a micheal bay movie while doing the explosion noises himself.. which Rusty has probbbly done. The real thing i’m getting at is I don’t get why, outside of Clyde and LIam, the writers think when LIncoln has an epiosde it either just needs ot be ClyncolnMcCloud or the ENTIRE group, when one or two would do the trick. YOu CAN seperate them out. People do hang out with diffrent friends at diffrent times. I know the show’s grasp on reality is tenous at best, we got to that last week with the whole one teacher for core classes thing with schooled and this week.. again we’ll get to it in a second, but friends DO hang out seperate. We saw each member of the Lincrew, minus stella because she didn’t exist yet, doing their own thing in Racing Hearts. It’s not that complicated. It’s hard to flesht hem out when their used as one solid unit and not unresonable to just use one or two. it’s a lesson I hope the show learns eventually and hope it’s sister show learns too.

But yeah our dynamic duo spend the episode as youd’ expect; unraveling conspriacies and stalking the new family, though there are some funny bits. Besides Rita squirting her family like a cat or a dog, we have flip getting half his face shaved by a survelince drone and okay maybe just those two things. not bad bits, but the general concept of them roleplaying into mischief.. has been done before. The show’s done the detective bit before and the spy trappings really don’t change that. And you CAN do a good spy takeoff episode, this one just sin’t it and feels like your standard LIncoln and Clyde messaround with tuxedos. Which to be fair are pretty awesome but still. It’s pretty flat. The climax though? I’ll give it this.. it’s pretty entertainngi if also 100% what exactly the fuck. So our heroes are naturally caught sneaking into the neighbors house and its eems they were wrong, etc etc, exactly what we expected the new kid will hang around.. at least we have a new character. Instead.. LIncoln accidently hits a knob and unveils a panel

So yeah... turns out the new family ARE spies, just for Peach Growers and plan to wipe out all cherries in royal woods. Yup.. look I know this universe is patently insane but even for loud house, even with all of lisa’s super science... even with the slapstick but this is just.. nuts. Like i’m fine with suspending my disbelif, this show is a goofy comedy, but this is a bit much. I LOVE it for being nuts but only in a “what on spagehtti monster’s green earth were you thinking”. I get swinging for the fences but Lincoln getting into a fight with a bunch of spies after playing spy, well beating them with slapsticks and stopping their plot to elmitie cherries..t his isn’t Kids Next Door. This just.. dosen’t work. Jeff Goldblum tell em why, my brains too broken to articulate this anymore

Yeah that. It’s just a weird climax and ends iwth LIncoln vetting the new neighbors.. which does it include girl jordon? Did they just write her out? If so why? Fans liked her, you can have more than one female character in Lincoln’s friend group. Zach is replacable. You can give me whatever the fuck this was, but not an intresting friend for him who has personality already. I get 50% chad but not your decision making. Gah.

Final Thoughts for .. this. one This one really didn’t work. Besides the ending just not fitting the series specific brand of ludicrous, I mentioned KND for a reason as it made this sort of plot work fine by having it’s whole unvierse be really fucking weird and specific, it’s mostly just okay. We’ve seen this before.. well okay I haven’t watched many of the Lincoln and Clyde messarounds, but the formula’s about the same. And that dosen’t work. For one you have a HUGE swath of new possiblities: A new school, Chandler coming back, new teachers and faculity, a new principal, and Lynn and LIncoln being in the same school, and you instead just.. retread the same crap. you have 4 of lincoln’s friends other than clyde to use but don’t let them in on the fun. And most agrivating to me you move new neighbors into the neighborhood while neglecting some of your old supporting cast and have them be villians of the week instead of adding someone NEW to the neighborhood. Give one of the other kids a new friend, or give lincoln a new friend to add to his group and replace liam, shake up the dynamic with him and clyde bya dding a third or, most obviously move one of his friends INTO the neighborhood, most obviously stella since you spent so much time building her up then have her addition affect Lincoln and Clyde. Sure we’ve had an episdoe of one of his friends getting in the way of them before, but this would be diffrent. This episode is just.. not great and was a waste of my time, espespcailly after following such a stellar episode. It’s probablyt he first genuinely bad episode i’ve covered on this blog. Now that probably won’t stand, i’ve seen genuiley worse but.. as a wise penguin once said.

One last note. That Young Dylan graphic is really obnoxiou and obtrusive. It’s the second most obnoxious thing i’ve seen on this network.

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I”m out for this week. If you want more check out my Amphibia reviews, as I just finished a new one today, my other loud house reviews in the newly minted nickelodeon tab or other stuff on my other tabs, send me an ask for reviews you’d like to see or pay me to review whatver you want for 5 bucks via direct message. And check this blog Monday for the return of weekly Ducktales coverage, and next weekend for the next episode of loud house, and throughotu the week for more reviews. Until we meet again, GO TEAM VENTURE!. Play us out Mary Kate Wiles. If nothing else this episode let me use this song.

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