#go bag was packed 2 days ago and i know/wrote most of our routines

[ignorancelive]

IM ABOUT TO MARCH IN A HUGE PRIDE PARADE AAAAAAAA

[hookingminor]

4 times his friends posted you on their instagram + 1 time he did - mat barzal

a/n: I wrote this literally back in july so lets just ignore how idealistic this is regarding quarantine but im a slut for some barzy this is all fluff

word count: 4,733

summary: like the title says, some friends (with benefits?) to lovers + a tyson cameo, fluffy summer quarantine fic

tagging @davidpastrsnack​ so kate can get on the barzy train

-

1.

To say the whole quarantine thing was an inconvenience was an understatement. School had ended online, your summer internship was cancelled, and it seemed like your summer would turn into an uneventful couple of months stuck in your apartment in, probably, the worst place to be stuck in during a pandemic: New York City.

Or so you thought.

You’d planned on having the most boring summer ever until your friend, Mat, had invited you to hole up away with him and a few friends in a lake house back in Vancouver. Well, friend was a loose term. The two of you were friends… just ones that kissed occasionally… and sometimes more than kissed. You’d met him about a year ago at a bar while he was out with his teammates after a game. A cliche meeting, but you hit it off instantly. Instead of ending up in his bed at the end of the night (which you would eventually end up at after a couple months), it turned into an exchange of numbers and an invitation to hang out later in the week.

You hadn’t thought anything of it at first, just thinking he was being friendly and wanting to end the conversation, so you were surprised to get a text the next day from an unknown number asking if you’d wanted to go on a bike ride.

Flashforward a year later and the two of you still went on bike rides together. At least, up until the pandemic started.

When the text came telling you to pack your bags for a month or so, you thought he was joking. Surely he couldn’t have meant you to join him in Vancouver over the summer? You were proven wrong when he showed up at your apartment the next day, two coffees in his hand.

“Uh, hi, Mathew,” you said hesitantly, opening your door to reveal your disheveled state, having just woken up.

“Why are you dressed like that? We have a plane to catch in four hours,” he said, pushing himself through your door, uninvited, to set the coffees on the counter.

“What are you doing here? What plane? You’re not supposed to be going out,” you reprimanded him for showing up unannounced and in the middle of quarantine.

“I told you we’re going to Vancouver, I know you read my text. Now let’s hurry up and pack, we gotta get going,” Mat rushed, already on the way to your bedroom.

You followed him after a brief moment once you’d processed what was going on. Mat had already pulled out your suitcase and set it on top of your bed by the time you entered the door. He was in the middle of rifling through your drawers and grabbing random garments to throw into the suitcase when you’d spoken again.

“You’re actually serious about this?”

“Of course I am. What better things do you have to do in a city on lockdown for an entire summer? Honestly, I’m doing you a favor,” he explained easily, turning back to grab more items.

“Oh, you’re doing me a favor? Thank you, Mat, for saving me from a summer of suffering. It’s not like I had other plans to find different internships or focus on my summer classes,” you replied sarcastically.

Mat rolled his eyes. “I am doing you a favor, and you’re doing me a favor by going. I need a hot piece of ass to get me through this, or I will lose my mind.” You slugged him on the shoulder in offense, but all he did was chuckle.

“And anyways, you can still do your classes in Vancouver. Instead of doing them locked in this apartment, you can do them lounged out under the Canadian sun. Preferably in a bikini,” he finished. You slugged his arm again, harder this time.

“In fact, you should take the red bikini, it makes your tits look amazing,” he said, noticing you shuffling through your swimsuits. You rolled your eyes at him but grabbed the red one anyway along with a couple others.

With both of you folding and packing, your bags were ready to go in record time.

“Alright, baby, let’s go.” And so you were off.

A week had gone by in total bliss. As much as you hated to admit it, Mat was right. Vacationing in Vancouver in a secluded lake house was a lot better than being alone in your apartment, even if you did still have classes to do. Mat teased you about it, but he always left you alone for a few hours in the day for you to focus on your work. Unless he really wanted something… like right now.

Mat had joined you laying on the couch while you were in the middle of annotating a book for class. He wiggled his way between your arms, causing you to break your hold on your book. He rested his head on your chest, arms wrapped around your middle, and nuzzled his face into your neck. Joining your hands back to your book and bringing your highlighter to the page, you continued to underline phrases you’d come back to later. A couple minutes passed in silence before Mat started sighing. And then he sighed again.

“What do you want?” you huffed out, closing your book with the pen marking your page.

“Let’s go swimming,” he said, pushing up to his elbows to look at your face.

“I have to finish, like, three more chapters today,” you explained.

“You can do that later. I want to go swimming now,” Mat whined.

“You know you sound like a petulant child right now, right?” you asked, moving a hand to his head, pushing his hair back as he pouted.

“Stop using big words on me. Let’s swim,” he said, rolling his eyes.

You paused to think about it for a moment, “Hmm… okay, I guess,” you said with a smile. Mat returned your smile with one of his own before hopping up to drag you to your room to change. It didn’t take much to convince you to swim. It was a really nice day out, and you didn’t really care to finish reading about 17th century philosophy.

You changed into your red bikini, Mat swapped his shorts for a pair of swim trunks, and threw on a backwards baseball cap. You went out back to join the rest of his friend group, who were in the process of loading up the boat with supplies and equipment.

“Oh, look, if it isn’t Brainiac and the Beast. Are you two finally going to go boating with us?” Tyson shouted from the dock. You rolled your eyes at his nickname they created for you and Mat. It had only been a week in Vancouver, but the chirps about you and school were tired by now.

“Princess here wants to swim in the pool, maybe next time!” you shouted back, pointing to Mat.

They laughed at your response, turning their attention back to the boat and running supplies to and from the house. You turned your attention back to Mat, who was taking off his hat and was about two seconds away from jumping in the pool.

“Mathew, stop!” you yelled out, “Get your ass over here!”

“What is it?” he asked, stopping just short of the deep end. He grumbled before marching over to you.

“You need to put sunscreen on first, dumbass,” you reprimanded. As you turned your back to grab the bottle of sunscreen, he rolled his eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, Mat,” you said sharply, turning back to face him with a raised eyebrow.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”

You ignored him, opening the cap and squeezing lotion onto your hands. You gestured him to turn around, and you spread the lotion over it, making sure to rub it into his shoulders.

“I don’t see why I have to put sunscreen on. It’s not even that hot outside,” he muttered.

“First of all, you’re a dumbass. Second of all, heat doesn’t automatically mean the UV rays aren’t strong. And lastly, you’re white, baby, you’ll burn like a sun-dried tomato and being in water only increases the amount of sun you’re exposed to,” you explained, reaching up to rub some on his face.

“Sorry, Miss Meteorologist,” he grumbled, clearly not happy he’d lost this argument.

“One of us has to have brains. We can’t all get by on our good looks and skating ability,” you replied, slapping his cheeks when you were done for good measure.

“Okay, well, if you’re finally done,” you nodded in confirmation, “Let’s go.” He picked you up from under your thighs and ran at full speed towards the pool before you could even process what was happening. You screamed his name in protest begging him to put you down, claiming you hadn’t had time to put on sunscreen yet. He ignored you as he jumped into the deep end, dragging you with him.

You emerged from the water clinging to Mat’s wet body, your hair sopping and hanging over your face like you had come straight out of the movie The Grudge. Mat was laughing at your chaotic look, knowing you were well pissed at him. You jumped higher in the water on top of him to dunk his head under and tried your best to drown him.

It wasn’t until you were relaxing on the couch later that night doing your routinely social media scroll that you saw one of the guys recorded your sunscreen interaction by the pool, you calling Mat a dumbass, and him throwing you in the pool onto their instagram story with a caption “all these two do is fight” with some laughing crying emojis added for effect.

2.

After a long day or hiking, you’d immediately crashed on the couch once you’d gotten back to the house, not bothering to walk all the way to your room. It was only early in the afternoon but you’d been out since sunrise, and dealing with people for hours on end had drained you. The group laughed at you as you plopped your body down onto the couch, curling your head under your arm instead of grabbing the pillow two feet away from you. The rest of them gathered in the kitchen, refueling their bodies with assorted snacks as they started popping open bottles of beer, ready to start the night. It seemed that even an entire day on their feet had not emptied them of their, seemingly endless, energy.

“Jesus Christ, we hiked for, like, six hours and you’re all still bouncing off the walls,” you sighed deeply.

“We’re about to go hit the boat and go water skiing, too. I’m assuming you’re too tired to join us?” Tyson teased.

“I will not be joining you because unlike some people, I need a nap. Now get out of here, you’re all giving me a headache,” you said, pinching your fingers on the bridge of your nose to emphasize your point.

They all snickered but kept quiet as they shuffled around, packing up more food to take outside. You heard the sliding door shut and close a few times as they ran in and out before it was finally silent. You let out a sigh of relief as you took solace in the calm quiet.

That was until you felt a pair of arms shifting you closer to the edge of the couch. You peeked one eye open to see Mat rolling your body over to give him some space as he climbed over your body to nestle himself between you and the back cushions.

“Not going out on the boat?” You asked as he tucked a pillow under the both of your heads and pulled a blanket over your bodies.

“No. They’re exhausting. I need some time for myself,” Mat replied, wrapping his arm around your middle to pull you into his chest.

“No offense, but if you’re with me, you’re not by yourself,” you explained, closing your eyes again as you settled into a comfortable position.

“Yeah, but you’re you. You don’t exhaust me,” he said quietly. You didn’t know what to say to that, so you didn’t answer. Within a few seconds you heard Mat’s breathing even out, and you followed quickly behind him into a deep sleep.

-

A couple hours passed in a dreamless sleep when you heard the sliding of doors and laughter travel through the house. It stirred you from your sleep and you both shifted around, letting out displeased groans.

“Are they both still asleep?” You heard one of them ask from the kitchen. Neither of you wanted to answer in hopes they would leave you two to continue sleeping.

You were sadly mistaken.

“Hey! Sleeping beauties! Time to get up!” Tyson shouted from somewhere above you.

You both groaned out a “Fuck off, Tyson,” without opening your eyes, both of you giving him the middle finger. Tyson laughed to himself and you expected him to keep bothering you, but you heard his footsteps lead away from the couch. You turned over on your other side, tucking your face into Mat’s neck before falling back asleep.

-

When you woke up later that evening, you checked instagram again to see Tyson posted a new story. It was the video of him bothering you two and flipping him off with a caption that said “I get no respect around here :(“

3.

It had been raining all day. Which meant everyone was stuck inside watching movies and eating pizza. It didn’t take long for you to get bored of lounging on the couch, especially when all they wanted to do was watch Fast and Furious movies. You sat on the loveseat you were sharing with Mat, and you distracted yourself from the boring movie by tangling your hands in your hair, French braiding the strands into pigtails mindlessly. You unbraided and rebraided your hair into a fishtail after the pigtails, and then into a regular braided ponytail after that. You let yourself get caught up in daydreams as you stared blankly at the TV when Mat started tugging on your leg. Dropping your braid, you finished tying it off with a hair tie and turned to look at him.

“Let me practice on you,” Mat said quietly.

“Practice what?” You asked.

“Braiding,” he said, shuffling to sit upright. He tried to gently push you off the couch until you got the hint and moved to sit between his legs on the floor.

“You think you can do it?” You asked, ready to offer him a demonstration.

“I’ve been watching you for the past half hour, I got this,” he replied, pulling out your hair tie. You rolled your eyes at his confidence, but let him continue unraveling the strands.

Every few minutes Mat would sigh exasperatedly before pulling out the twists he’d made to start over. Eventually, he’d almost gotten all the way to the end of your hair before he sighed again, clearly fed up by how long this was taking him. You didn’t say anything as he restarted for a third time, going for a straight back braid instead of a French braid.

After another ten minutes, Mat had finally completed his simple braid, tying your hair off with the tie. He tapped your shoulder to indicate he was done, and you pulled the long tail over your shoulder to look at it.

It was a braid.

An extremely loose one where he mixed up the strand order in a couple places, but a braid nonetheless. You turned around to get back up on the couch, and you were met with his triumphant smile.

“Good job, bud,” you complimented, leaving the braid in as you resumed your previous position on the couch.

-

You checked your phone to find a notification of a new story tag. You opened the app to see a picture of you on the floor, staring at the TV while Mat had his hands twisted in your hair and a confused look on his face and tongue poking out of his mouth. Next to your instagram tag was “he’s been knotting her hair on purpose for 20 minutes now”

4.

Your final exams for the summer classes you were taking were in a week. Finals stressed you out more than anything else in the world, and when you were stressed, you did a lot of baking. A lot of baking. After finishing your finals study schedule and nearly breaking down almost twice because of the amount you had to get done, you decided to start baking instead of going to sleep. So, at 3 in the morning when everyone was asleep, you’d  turned on the oven and brought out the bowls.

It began with a few dozen cookies. You figured everyone could at least enjoy the cookies. Who didn’t like cookies?

Cookies turned into muffins, muffins into cupcakes, and then cupcakes into pies. By the time everyone was waking up, it was nearly eleven in the morning. You’d gone to the store twice and had taken a few twenty minute naps while you waited for your desserts baked in the oven. And right now, you were in the middle of finishing off some cinnamon rolls for breakfast

“Oh my god, what the hell happened here?” Mat had asked with a scared expression, taking note of the disastrous kitchen. You didn’t answer him as you were topping off the rolls with some icing.

A few more bodies had gathered in the kitchen and began to fill the seats at the countertop while they watched you with worried eyes.

“What?” You asked innocently, placing the plates of cinnamon rolls in front of all of them. Their eyes followed you carefully as you pulled more goods out of the oven where you were keeping them warm. Plate after plate you set on the counter, all the cookies and muffins and cakes.

“How long have you been up?” Tyson asked cautiously. You swear you’ve never heard him use a softer voice than right now.

“I’m not sure. I never went to sleep, I guess? What time is it now?” You asked, pulling out glasses for orange juice.

“Nearly noon. You seriously didn’t sleep?” Tyson asked. The others had delved into the confections, eyes bouncing between the two of you as they stuffed their faces.

“She’s stress baking,” Mat replied quietly, helping himself to a cinnamon roll.

“What the hell is tress baking?” One of the other guys asked.

“Yeah she does this when she’s stressed. Usually when finals are coming up,” Mat said, directing it more towards you than his friend. You gave him a sheepish look, deciding not to comment since he already answered for you.

Mat was used to your stress baking as it resulted in you showing up at his place in the middle of the night with bags full of pastries in the late hours of the evening. It was always against his diet and he frequently gave most of your desserts to his neighbor, but he could never tell you no when you arrived with gifts.

“Well, I’m all out of flour, so, I’m going to run to the store again to get some more supplies so I can make a chocolate cake later,” you said hurriedly.

You did a quick double check of the kitchen, flashing all the guys a bright smile before heading out the door with your purse in hand, all of them staring until the front door shut behind you.

-

When you came back, you found Mat in the kitchen doing the dishes and nearly all the sweets you’d baked earlier were eaten or wrapped and put away. Maybe there was a plus side to being in a home with five other people.

“Mat, you don’t have to do that,” you said, setting your groceries down and hip checking him away from the sink.

“You’re already stressed, I figured doing the dishes would take away some of that,” he said with a shrug. He continued rinsing out some bowls as you gave him a small smile.

The two of you continued to wash the dishes in silence, moving to clean the countertops when you were done. After half an hour, the mess you’d made was gone and any signs of a baking breakdown had been erased.

It was a shame you were about to tear up the kitchen all over again.

“How about this,” Mat said, noticing the frown on your face at the thought of making another mess, “Let’s have a competition.”

You quirked your eyebrow, “I’m listening.”

“You said you were making a chocolate cake, right? How about we see who can make the better cake,” Mat propositioned.

You raised both your eyebrows this time. You both knew you were the better baker by a long shot. You did have this same breakdown at least twice a year. You weren’t even sure Mat knew how to make anything that didn’t come with box instructions or included possible salmonella-inducing ingredients.

You knew what he was really trying to do. He was trying to distract you from all the stress, and he knew you couldn’t turn down a competition. You were just as bad as him when it came to winning. Thankfully, this was something you knew you’d win.

“Fine, but I hope you’re prepared to lose,” you agreed with a smile.

“I don’t know, I have been practicing my cooking skills lately,” he said, grabbing the bowls he’d just dried off.

“Yeah, I’ll believe that when I see it,” you replied with an eye roll and heavy sarcasm.

You joined him in gathering all the ingredients and materials on the counter, setting up your respective stations. Mat divided the workspace in half, drawing a line in flour which made you laugh. You split the bowls between the sides and set up the ingredients on the second counter just like an actual cooking show.

“Okay, ground rules first. Half an hour to make the cakes, we bake them at the same time, and then another half hour for decorating at the end,” you explained, tying your hair back in a ponytail. Mat nodded at your statement and set a timer on his phone for 30 minutes.

“Ready.”

“Set.”

“Go!”

-

After about two hours, your creations were done. Well, they were supposed to be. Mat’s cake looked more or less like a brown lump coated in frosting and stripes. You’d tried your best to decorate yours with small chocolate roses, but you could’ve turned out a plain cake and probably would have done better.

“I think I won,” you stated confidently.

“You’re not allowed to decide, you’re biased! I’ll make a poll on my story,” Mat said, going to grab his phone.

“You can’t do that, your followers are going to pick yours.”

“Fine, we’ll get someone else to do it— Josty! Come here,” Mat called to his friend passing through the kitchen. He hesitantly walked over to where you were, not wanting to come in the middle of whatever you two were shouting about.

“We need you to make an instagram poll to see who’s cake looks better. Oh, and you’re going to taste test them,” you said, picking up your cake to pose for a picture as Mat did the same. Tyson sighed before realizing you two were serious and he opened his app to take a picture.

He added the photo to his story with a poll asking “Which one is better?” With two options, Y/N’s or Mat’s.

After you set the cakes back down, Tyson picked up a fork before stabbing them to pick out a chunk from each. He ate yours first, nearly moaning at the taste.

“Holy shit, this is, like, the best cake I’ve ever eaten,” Tyson said, shoveling down another forkful. You gave Mat a shit-eating grin.

“Okay, okay, try mine now,” Mat said, displeased. Tyson rolled his eyes before forking out some of his.

“Uh,” he coughed, “it’s a little,” cough, “dry.”

“What? No, it’s not! Let me try,” Mat shouted, outraged, and grabbed Tyson’s fork to try for himself.

It took him two seconds before he was spitting the cake into a napkin.

“Fine. You win,” Mat conceded, throwing a dish towel against the counter in mock fury.

You gloated for another 5 minutes, pointing out Mat’s terrible baking skills as Tyson continued to eat your cake and laugh at Mat.

You won the instagram poll too.

+ 1

It was the last week before you and Mat were flying back to New York. The past month had passed quickly, and Mat needed to get back for the start of training camps. As the summer began to end, the whole crew thought they’d spend one last day on the boat before everyone started parting ways.

It’s not like you were opposed to being on boats, but when all the guys did was water sports and no one wanted to slow down to teach you, it wasn’t as fun.

Today, however, had been quite calm as you sat against the front of the boat, a seltzer in hand as you watched Tyson wakeboarding in the back. Mat was curled up behind you as you leaned back against his chest, tanned skin shining in the summer sun. You reached back to grab the baseball cap off his head, placing it on yours to shield your eyes from the sun. You’d forgotten to bring sunglasses, and you figured Mat could part with his hat since he had a pair.

The day passed peacefully as all the guys took turns until it was sunset. Mat had joined you back on the seat, skin wet from just getting out of the water. He wrapped you in his arms before pulling you onto his lap, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Hey, Tys, take a picture of us real quick,” Mat said, shoving his phone into Tyson’s chest.

You thought nothing of it, you and Mat had taken many pictures together, and this was no different. Mat rested his chin on your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your stomach as you both gave your cheesiest smiles to the camera. A quick shutter indicated the picture was taken and Tyson gave Mat his phone back.

-

Mat called your name from your bed as you stood in the adjoined bathroom, finishing your nightly routine.

“Hey, do you mind if I post that picture of us on my instagram?” Mat called out.

“The one from the boat? Why?” You asked, drying off your face with a towel.

“It’s a cute picture,” he shrugged when you reentered the room.

“People are going to start talking if you do,” you warned with a cautious tone.

He paused for a second.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” Mat asked quietly, looking up to meet your eyes.

You stayed silent as you climbed in under the covers.

“What are you trying to say, Mat?”

He took a deep breath, “I think you’re amazing, you know that. And we’ve been friends for so long, it kind of feels natural, doesn’t it?” His fingers began tapping against the sheets anxiously as he held his breath and waited for your response.

You gave him a small smile, moving your body around to fully face him.

“It does,” you agreed, “But if you want us to be something more, you’re going to have to ask me on a date first.”

“A date? After I’ve already gotten you into bed? What’s the point?” You knew he meant it as a joke since he could barely finish the sentence without laughing, but you gently slapped his head as he began to apologize.

“I’m kidding!” He said between chuckles, “Will you go on a date with me once we get back to New York and it’s safe to go out again?”

“I’d love to, Mat,” you replied, leaning in to give him a sweet kiss.

“I’m still going to post that photo tomorrow, though,” he said after a short pause, smiling against your lips.

-

The next day when Mat had gone on a fishing trip with the guys, you saw a notification pop up on your phone.

“@barzal97 tagged you in a photo”

You unlocked your phone.

“Isolation isn’t so bad when you have this girl to spend it with”

[crowdedimagines]

Leaked Pt. 2 - Harry Styles

PART ONE

Harry and I follow Gemma back into the house. I cross my arms over my chest, fighting the chill from outside that seems to linger in my bones now. We take a seat back at the table, everyone seems to be stressed and tired of talking, I don’t blame them. I’m thankful Harry and I got a break from it.

“Alright, so we were able to detect what they had access to and what was downloaded from the online server.” Andrew, whose name I learned, says looking at both Harry and I to explain.

“So what else did they get?” Harry questions, he sits up a little straighter in his chair.

“It looks like they also had access to some audio files.”

“Audio files?”

“What? The studio version of medicine?” I tease, assuming that whatever it was can’t be too bad. Harry’s had songs leak before, even if it’s something that ended up being scrapped it can’t be the end of the world. It can’t be as bad as a leaked image of us across twitter.

“No, it looks like they only took several files dated July 15th of 2019.”

“July 15th?” I raise my brows.

“What happened-” Harry starts to question the significance, but it instantly clicks for me. All of the humor and lightheartedness I had is knocked right out of me.

“Fuck-” I pull my hair back over my shoulder. The chill that clung to my bones is gone now, now I can feel myself break out into a sweat. Harry turns to look at me and as soon as our eyes meet I can tell that it’s clicked for him as well.

“It’s our song” Harry states, his voice so quiet that I’m sure not everyone in the room caught it. His voice is soft and low, barely registering.

“Your song?” Anne prompts, her face full of concern as she notice’s the color that’s completely drained from our faces.

“Can we clear out the room for a few minutes?” Harry asks, he takes his hand in mine and nods for Anne and Gemma to fill the seats that have now been vacated.

“Can I?” Harry looks at me for permission before continuing. I give him a soft smile and nod, at this point I’m glad they’ll know. I’d rather they know than the whole world.

“July 15th was the day Y/n and I got back from the hospital.” Harry swallows, “The day before Y/n had suffered a miscarrige.”

The silence in the room is louder than I could’ve expected. Gemma and Anne look at each other, obviously shocked before turning their attention back to us. Their expressions seem just as solemn now.

“So the audio file is?” Gemma looks between us confused.

“So together we wrote a song for our daughter.” I nod, tears slipping without being able to stop them.

“It was really therapeutic, I think we both sobbed through practically the whole thing.” He looks to me and I just nod and agree. Harry’s hand still hasn’t left mine.

“I’m sorry that you guys had to find out this way.” I pull my head up to finally make eye contact. Tears are still slowly streaming, but I’m able to blink past them, “We had been so excited to tell you guys that we were expecting and it was only a few weeks after that we had already lost her.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Anne says, her eyes filling up with tears of her own at this point.

“So this was right before you guys broke up.” Gemma realizes, “Is that-?”

She doesn’t seem to be able to finish her own thought. The air in the room is a little too heavy. If I wasn’t drained before, I am now.

“Partly.” Harry nods.

“It wasn’t a lie that the stress of always being apart tore us apart, but going through something like that and then having to fly across the world. We didn’t get to heal from that together, and it ruined our relationship.”

Third Person POV

Slowly the group makes their way back in. Harry makes it very clear to all of them that they need to do everything in their power to stop that audio file from seeing the light of day. It crushed him to see the defeated look on Y/n’s face. She looks exhausted. Harry can’t pull his eyes from her saddened face every couple of seconds. The last thing he wants is for her to feel emotionally exposed as well as physically.

“Y/n, why don’t we go off to bed.” Anne gets up from her spot and places a gentle hand on the younger girl's shoulder. She only nods and lets Anne lead her up stairs. No one else at the table comments, no one dares. Harry’s eyes follow her as Anne wraps an arm around her shoulder and they walk up the stairs.

Anne leads her to Harry’s room, knowing that she was bound to stay there after everything that’s happened today. No one can blame her for being so tired, it was only a few hours ago that she landed. She’s had her body exposed to the world and now there’s the potential for one of the most intimate parts of her to be exposed as well. Today has been the day from hell for Y/n.

Y/n changes into one of Harry’s shirts and tucks herself in under the covers. It’s been over a year since she’s been in this bed. Anne comes back in to check on her, noticing her eyelids are falling heavy as they talk.

Anne curls up in the sitting chair on the other side of the master bedroom. It doesn’t feel right to leave her alone right now in this state and she doesn’t exactly feel like participating in the conversations downstairs anymore. It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth hearing people speak so casually over something so personal.

It’s a few hours later when Harry makes his way upstairs and he’s surprised to see either of them in his room. He looks like the definition of exhausted. His mom looks up from her book and glances over to see that Y/n is still asleep.

“Is she alright?” Harry asks, looking at the girl curled up in his bed.

“She will be.” Anne sets down the book. She pulls the blanket off of her shoulders and folds it up neatly.

“Did you guys get anything decided?” Anne questions, making her way over to her son by the door.

“Yeah, Jordan and Jeff both agree that it might be in our best interest to release a statement. If it gets out we’ll obviously need to address it. They want to talk it over again tomorrow morning once Y/n is feeling a bit better.”

“Sounds great, love.” Anne presses a soft kiss to his cheek before letting herself out.

Harry breaks his stare on the love of his life so he can get ready for bed himself. He brushes his teeth and does his night routine as quietly as he can. From what he remembers, it always used to wake Y/n up anyway, but she’s exhausted.

He finally finishes up and hovers over his side of the bed, unsure if he should cross that line. Sure she’s laying in his bed, but that doesn’t mean it’s an open invitation for them to share the bed.

“Just get in already.” Her voice surprises Harry. Her eyes didn’t even flinch to open. Harry doesn’t need to be told twice, he slides in on his side.

“What are we going to tell the fans?” Her voice a soft echo in the silence.

Harry lets out a long sigh, moving to lay on his back.

“I don’t know. How much do we want them to know? Neither of us have ever let the fans in like this before.”

“But aren’t they going to figure it out anyway? We know that they’re smart, and our lyrics were hardly veiled.”

“I think I would rather tell them. If we can’t stop it from getting out there, I would want to avoid as many conspiracy theories as possible. How do you feel about it?”

Y/n reaches out her hand to connect it with Harry’s. His head snaps over to look at her and she’s staring down at where her fingers fiddle with his rings.

“I feel comfortable with that. The whole world is going to know now.”

His words fill the silence, Y/n only letting out a sigh in response.

“I should call my parents and let them know. Y/S/N too. They deserve to know before the story breaks.”

Y/n shifts back onto her side facing away from him, letting Harry’s hand drop in the process. He turns to his side, facing the same direction as her. She turns back, looking over her shoulder towards him.

“Thank you.” Her voice a soft whisper, her eyes meeting his after glancing over his bare chest.

“What for?” He clears his throat, his voice catching from speaking so softly.

“For being you Harry. For being understanding and loving in spite of everything.” She turns back to rest her head back on the pillow, “I don’t think there’s anyone else I would want to have to go through this with.”

Harry scoots closer, he hovers his arm over her waist before settling it when there weren’t any protests. Y/n places her hand on top of his, holding it securely against her.

“I will always love you, Y/n. I wish we didn’t have to go through this, but I’m glad to have you too.”

Those are the last words they exchange that night.

Y/n’s POV

The sun is rising, alerting me that I need to get up and get ready. I manage to snake my way out of Harry’s grasp before he can wake up as well. I make my way to the bathroom and take a long shower.

“Jordan brought in your suitcase last night.” Harry informs.

“Oh, great. Thank you!”

He simply nods before going into the bathroom himself to get ready for the morning. I wrap the towel a little tighter around my body and quickly make my way downstairs to grab my bag. By the time I get back to Harry’s room I can hear the water running in the shower. It gives me enough time to get dressed and escape down to the kitchen before he exits.

“Good morning!” Anne smiles from her spot at the stove.

“Morning.” I smile, I take a seat next to a sleepy Gemma.

“This coffee isn’t even helping.” Gemma groans, throwing her head on my shoulder and closing her eyes.

“That’s because Mum made it.” Harry says as he walks in with a wet head, “Have Y/n make the next batch. That’ll surely get you wide awake.”

“Sounds like an excuse to get my world famous coffee if you ask me.” I eye him with a smile.

“You caught me, love.” He grabs plates for everyone and starts setting the table, noticing his mother is getting close to being done with all the food. I tap Gemma softly on the shoulder so I can get up and make a new pot of coffee. Harry always used to tell me my coffee was his favorite, it always packed a punch.

We all settle at the table, Harry with a large mug of the hot coffee.

“Anne, everything looks wonderful.” I smile looking over everything she’s prepared.

“Thank you.” She grins.

We all dig in, too hungry to prolong it anymore.

“What time is everyone getting here?” I ask, mainly waiting for Harry to answer.

“Within the hour.”

“Have you guys decided what you’re going to do?” Gemma sets down her fork to look at the both of us, prompting me to turn and look at Harry.

“We’re going to tell the fans. We want them to hear it from us, take away the power from the person who hacked my phone.” Harry explains.

“Yeah, that reminds me. I need to call my parents.” I dab the corners of the mouth with a napkin before excusing myself.

Harry’s POV

I watch as Y/n leaves the room to make the call privately.

“So, how is she?” Anne asks, focusing on me.

“With all things considered, I think she’s doing alright.” I take a sip of the coffee that’s still warm, “We both agreed that we’re going to tell the fans today. Clarify a few things.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” Gemma nods.

“Me too. It’s nice having her here again.” My mum smiles looking at me.

“Mum, don’t go there.” I warn.

“I didn’t mean anything by it!” She defends, “I just said it’s nice.”

“She’s right.” Gemma chimes in, “Y/n has always been our favorite. We all know that your story with her is far from over.”

I simply shake my head, knowing better than to argue with these two. It’s a short while later Y/n makes a reappearance, her eye’s red and puffy.

“Alright, everyone’s in the know.” She sighs.

Right on que there’s a knock on the door. I’m sure it’s just starting that our teams are showing up. Ready to start a new day.

“Alright, so Harry said that you guys agreed on putting out a statement. We can get started on that today. We need to decide how we want to do it, we have a few options.” Jordan explains, “We can type up a statement from both of you and release it on social media or if you guys wanted to say something.”

“Like a video?” Y/n asks.

“Exactly. It’s totally up to you guys, it’s a matter of preference.” Jeff cuts in, “Sometimes it's a little more comfortable to do it that way so you can say exactly what you want and people can hear your tone, but at the same time it’s a lot more personal this way.”

“What do you want to do?” Y/n suddenly turns to get my opinion.

“I’m fine with either-”

“C’mon, what’s your head saying.” She has a soft knowing smile on her face. I smile back at her because how could I not.

“I think that if we’re coming clean and trying to be honest about things, it could be good to have it actually coming from our mouths.”

“I agree.” She turns back to look at Jordan and Jeff, “So how exactly do we go about that?”

“So we’ll start by-”

Jeff stops speaking as his phone buzzes, he glances down quickly and his eyes widen for a second. Whatever it is it’s enough to have completely captured his attention.

“What is it?” I ask, I start spinning one of my rings subconsciously. It takes what feels like minutes of pure silence, but in actuality it’s only a few seconds for him to answer.

“The audio file is out.”

Fuck.

~

i’m sorry for all the switching of POVs but that’s the best way i felt I could communicate how i wanted things to go. 

PART 3?!?! how are we feeling? mini series?

[shyvioletcat]

At some point in the fireman au: “I always sleep best when you’re next to me.” 😉

Here we go ladies and gentlemen. This one is long and I hope it doesn’t disappoint. Have a mentioned this is a slow burn? Maybe I should have….

Masterlist

~~~~~

Aelin watched her class packed up for the day. They had been pretty good today, well as good as 20 mostly eight year olds could be. The room was buzzing with energy as they all waited the 2 minutes until the bell. 

“Miss G, who’s our talker for Wednesday?” Harris asked from his desk near the front. 

“I can’t tell you, it will ruin the surprise,” Aelin explained with a smile. 

Truthfully she actually didn’t have anyone one lined up for the career week presentations. Each class would have someone from a different profession come in and present. Then the following week each class would set up their own presentation about the profession in the hall for the rest of the school to see. Two days out and Aelin still didn’t have a presenter. 

She had planned to ask Yrene but Lysandra has snapped her up first. She’d used Chaol last year so that wasn’t an option and just about everyone else was busy that day. If it came down to it Aelin would just do it. 

The bell rang and the kids were up and moving. She smiled and waved as they filed out then started to pack up her own desk. 

“I am ready to strangle Chloe and Sarah,” Lysandra said as she appeared in the doorway. “You’d think they’d wait at least until they were 13 before they started oozing attitude.” 

Aelin laughed. “Yeah. I don’t love teaching 11 year olds.”

“Well, someone has to,” Lysandra said as she sat on the edge of Aelin’s desk. “Who’d you get to present for job week?”

“No one yet. Seeming as you stole my presenter,” Aelin said as she slipped her laptop into her bag. 

“Whatever. You were just too slow,” Lysandra replied. 

“I practically gave you the idea.”

“How I remember the conversation going is “Yrene would be good” then I said “yeah” and then that was it. No dibs called,” Lysandra explained. 

Aelin snorted. “That’s a weak argument and you know it.” 

Lysandra just shrugged. Aelin flicked a pen lid at her. 

“I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you ask your temporary roommate?” Lysandra said as she flicked the pen lid right back. Aelin caught it. 

“I don’t know. It’s short notice and he’s been acting a bit weird since…” Aelin trailed off. She hadn’t meant to let that slip. 

Lysandra just looked as if she ha been handed a piece of her favourite cake. “Weird since what? Did you kiss him? Make out? Did you have sex with him?”Lysandra’s voice was rising higher and higher with each question and just as she asked the last one a small group of students walked past the open door. 

“Lys,” Aelin hissed as she swatted at Lysandra’s arm. “It no to all the above. But,” Aelin took in a deep breath and looked to the ceiling, “he is sleeping in my bed.”

“What?” The exclamation rang throughout the empty classroom. “You haven’t done A, B or C, but he’s sleeping in your bed?”

“He was going to lose his position at work. The couch was giving him a bad back and he refused to go home so I offered him the bed,” Aelin explained matter of factly.

“And where, pray tell, are you sleeping?”

Aelin shifted uncomfortably then mumbled almost inaudibly, “In the bed.” 

Lysandra stood and jabbed Aelin’s shoulder. “You haven’t told me this before now! You’re practically married.” Then she laughed. “But like, married for 20 years married. Because you’re sleeping in the same bed but there’s no sex.”

“First of all, ouch,” Aelin said and she rubbed where Lysandra and poked her. “Second of all… yeah basically.”

Lysandra cackled. 

“But like I said he’s been acting a bit weird since then so he probably won’t say yes.”

“Maybe it’s because he likes you. I’ve seen what you wear to bed. If I were him I’d like you a lot,” Lysandra said. 

Aelin shook her head. “No he’s just feeling guilty and has a caveman era need to protect.”

“Yeah okay, whatever you say,” Lysandra said as they started walking to the door. “Just wait until I tell Aedion.”

“Don’t. I don’t need his input on this,” Aelin said as she locked her classroom door. 

A dramatic sigh sounded from behind her. “Fine. You steal all my fun.”

~~~

Aelin sat up in bed reading by the light of the lamp on her bedside table. It was getting later than she usually stayed up but Rowan wasn’t here yet. She had a sneaking suspicion that he was waiting for her to be asleep before he came over, which he had in fact done last night. Hence the accusation of weirdness she’d explained to Lysandra.

She didn’t know what she had done, but she also could be reading way too much into it and nothing at all was wrong. It was after all just one night. Aelin started reading again when she heard the front door open and then the lock slide into place. Within a few moments Rowan appeared in her doorway, blanket and pillow in hand, with a look of surprise on his face. 

“Oh, I didn’t expect you to be up,” he said. 

“Hoping to sneak in while I was asleep?” Aelin asked as she shut her book. 

Rowan shrugged, “I didn’t want to disturb your routine.”

“You’re not disturbing me at all. In fact I’d say I always sleep best when you’re next to me,” Aelin accentuated her words with a pat on the bed and a sultry little smile. Which turned into a wicked grin as Rowan flushed. Tormenting him was becoming one of her new favourite pass times.

Rowan then pointedly ignored her as he approached the bed. Aelin removed her spare pillow and he laid down on top of Aelin’s bedding before pulling his own comforter blanket over him. 

Aelin then dropped the playful facade and steeled herself, readying for the disappointment.

“I actually have a favour to ask.”

She heard Rowan roll over to face her and Aelin looked at him, his hands tucked under his cheek. 

“Does it involve me having to vacate the apartment for an evening?”

It was Aelin’s turn flush at what Rowan implied. When did she become a prude?

“No. Lucky for it doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice a night away from my bed. There’s this careers week at school -”

“School?” Rowan asked.

“I’m a primary school teacher,” Aelin explained.

“I didn’t know that,” Rowan said.

Aelin just powered on. “So careers week. We get people from all different professions come in and give a presentation to a class. I’ve left it kind of late and it’s on Wednesday. I was wondering if there was any chance that you could come in and give a presentation to my class about being firefighter.”

Rowan’s brows furrowed as he thought about it. Aelin assumed he was he was working out the best way to refuse.

“You know what, never mind. It too short notice and -”

“I can probably do it. Wednesday right? I’ll have to talk to my Chief but I’ll most likely be able to do it. I might just have to remain on call.”

Aelin blinked in surprise. “Really? Because that would be great.”

“Yeah it should be fine,” Rowan said as he rolled to lay on his back.

Aelin smiled a little, “Well thanks.”

Then she turned her lap off and settled herself into bed, her back to Rowan. “Maybe discourage the breaking down the door thing though,” Aelin added.

Rowan chuckled softly behind her. The sound was like a gentle caress over Aelin’s skin making her shiver. Aelin promptly shut any other thoughts about that sound and the way it made her feel. It was increasingly obvious Rowan wasn’t interested so there was no reason for her to entertain that idea for one second. 

~~~~~

Rowan woke up to his phone buzzing and he quickly switched his alarm off, not wanting to wake up Aelin who was still asleep beside him.

As he got out of bed his eyes strayed to her. She was lying on her back, one arm draped above her head, her braided hair fuzzy and loose in places. When Aelin was asleep her face relaxed and she looked so peaceful and content. Definitely not like she was planning some way to provoke him, which seemed to be all the time.  

Not wanting it to get weird by staring and a sleeping woman he barely knew Rowan decided to leave and head back to his apartment to get ready for work. On his way out he remembered their conversation about the presentation for her class. Stopping by the kitchen bench to he wrote Aelin a message on a sticky note. As he did Rowan smiled a bit at the memory of how she had covered every inch of his door in them. In hindsight it was a little funny, but at the time he had been fuming.

I’ve got to head to work but here’s my number. Text me yours and I’ll let you know how I go.

He added his number to the sticky note and left.

~~~~~

Rowan and his team were checking their gear when he asked his boss about helping Aelin out.

“Lorcan, can I have an hour or two out of the station tomorrow? I’ll remain on call and will be able to respond to any call outs, if that helps.”

“Why?” Lorcan asked checking the fittings on his helmet.

“It’s to help out,” Rowan went to say friend but he stumbled on the word. Were they friends? He wasn’t sure. “Someone who I owe a favour too.”

“Why?” Lorcan asked again.

“Why do I owe them a favour or why am I asking?”

“I’ll take both,” Lorcan said as he moved on to checking his fire fighting suit.

“She’s a neighbour and she works at the local primary school. They’re having a careers week type thing and she’s asked if I can talk to her class,” Rowan explained. Avoiding that looming question of exactly why he owed his neighbour a favour.

“Wait,” Fenrys piped in. “Is this the same neighbour whose door you busted down because you thought you smelled smoke?”

Rowan glared death at Fenrys, who was just gleefully smiling.

“You what?” Lorcan asked, a rare glimmer of amusement on his face.

“Fenrys. Did you have to?” Rowan said as he glared at his friend. Fenrys shrugged, still grinning. “It was after that big factory fire a few weeks ago. I came home, still high on the adrenaline, thought I smelled smoke… and broke her door.”

Lorcan laughed. So did his other coworkers.

“Yeah, yeah I know,” he said as he finished up on his gear check.

“Yeah do whatever,” Lorcan said as he finished up as well. “If we get a call you leave. That’s it.”

“Thanks.” Then Rowan turned to Fenrys. “How’s about we get some training in before Friday’s fitness test?”

Fenrys groaned knowing that Rowan was going to murder him  

~~~~~

Aelin was at the coffee machine in the staffroom waiting for her cup to fill. She slipped her hand into her pocket and felt a piece of paper crumple beneath her fingers. Confused Aelin pulled it out of her pocket.

She left out a soft ‘Oh’ as she realised what it was. It was Rowan’s number. She’d stuffed it into her pocket this morning on the way out the door.

The coffee machine finished its job and Aelin picked up her cup and sat at a nearby table. She smoothed out the sticky note and entered Rowan’s number into her phone. Then she composed her message.

Hey. It’s your lovely neighbour. Will you me joining me at my workplace tomorrow?

Aelin read it over and cringed. She deleted it all and tried again.

Hi Rowan, it’s Aelin. Any word on tomorrow?

Much better. He was doing her a favour and I told was a professional setting, she’d have plenty time later for riling comments. Aelin pressed send.

“Hey Aelin.”

“Hi Elide,” Aelin said at the small dark haired beauty. “How’s your day been?”

“Pretty hectic,” Elide said as she sat. I was meant to have a session off but it seems my better time is better spent running errands.”

Elide worked as a teachers aide and she moved from class to class. But some teachers sometimes used her like a secretary.

“Just come into my and sit in the corner. I don’t care,” Aelin said. Then her phone buzzed.

All good for tomorrow. Don’t let the kids eat me alive. Please.

“What are you smiling at?” Elide asked.

“I just secured my presenter for tomorrow,” Aelin said. “I highly recommend you come to my class for it. You definitely won’t regret it.”

“Why?” Elide asked.

Aelin grinned, “You’ll have to wait and see.”

~~~~~

EDIT: Turns out I completely left out a chapter from my masterlist so I added to this chapter because it was really the easiest thing to do.

Tags: @tangledraysofsunshine @nalgenewhore @highqueenofelfhame @galyxsy @fucking-winchester-trash @literary-licorice @http-itsrebecca @highladyofthesith @aelinfire-bringer @soup-that-is-too-hawt @sleep-and-books @3am-reading @average-girl-at-best @but-she-was-aelin-galathynius @rowaelinforeverworld @alifletcher2012 @westofmoon @tswaney17 @mydarlingfireheart @rowansfirebringer @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen @vanilla28 @fireheart-of-your-dreams @enquires-state-building @im-not-rare-im-rarr @your-high-lady

[underoossss]

Dancing Under The Rain - H.O

Prologue

pairing: Detective!Harrison x female!reader

words: 1.5k

AN: Hello everyone, spooky season has begun with me scaring myself with a new story idea after months of writer’s block and being SO SELF CONSCIOUS of everything I wrote. This idea came to me out of nowhere and I talked to some friends about it which helped me get the confidence I needed to start writing it. This will probably have 5 chapters in total, each of them is kind of like a time skip. This was also inspired by the song RAIN by Ben Platt, hence the title, and it’s about two people who have shut everyone out and are scared of opening up to the one person who might understand what they’ve been through. Harrison and the reader are around their late 20′s early 30′s and the town I used is fictional of course. I hope you enjoy it and I would love to read your comments on this short prologue I’ve written for you. (If someone wants to help me with a moldboard hmu)

----

Over the years you have learned the pros and cons of living in a small town.

The pros:

You can escape from your previous life, from anything that hurt you and start over. No one knows who you are or the past that seems to sometimes follow you like a shadow sometimes. It’s a fresh start and 4 years ago, that was exactly what you needed.

That’s how you ended up in Dewitt, three hours away from Cambridge where everywhere you went people look at you with pity in their eyes. It’s as if losing your brother hadn’t been enough, no, people had to remind you with every look and every how are you? What were you even supposed to say? Devastated would only make people worried and okay made them believe you’re lying to them. Either way you felt like shit, there wasn’t a place you could go that didn’t remind you of him so you did what anyone else would do. Pack up your things and move to a remote town close to the sea where no oneknew you.

The cons:

People talk. A lot.

Not that people aren’t nice, they are, well most of them. However, that doesn’t make them any less nosy or gets rid the river of gossip that inevitably flows when something different from the routine happens. You expected it going in, if word got around in Cambridge then it would certainly get around in Dewitt. Therefore you kept quiet about any personal details or stories, to them you were the psychology professor that owns the bookshop/café in Harold street. You drive up to Cambridge twice a week to lecture your students and Skype any of them who need office hours. During the summers you give online classes and put pastel blue tables outside your store for people to read or talk. To everyone there you were the nice young lady who makes some really nice coffee, who is always smiling and who tutors whoever needs help in science or English lit. Gossip is a plague though, one that no one can escape so that’s how find out a detective has moved into town. Richard Mensen has gone missing and it’s been a week since his family, or anyone else saw him. The local authorities haven’t gotten anywhere so they sent someone else to help.

You walk to the entrance of the bookstore and glance at the police station as a man steps out of a car and walks inside. Harrison Osterfield, the detective from London who you can tell already walks with a massive weight on his shoulders.

----

Everyone is looking, there are cameras and reporters and Harrison just wants to go home. Eight and a half months after arriving to Dewitt, the case was finally solved. Richard Mensen was dead, that they discovered three weeks after arriving. The next eight months that followed were about finding out who did it, why they’d done it and convicting them for ruining a family’s life. They were also full of judgement, Harrison should be used to it by now, but he’s not. His palms sweat and his heart beats too fast under the attention of everyone in the town, every look of disappointment they had sent his way for taking so long.

You do it, Harrison wanted to say, go and solve it if it’s that easy. He puts on a neutral face, his mask, and tries not to give away how terrified he is of fucking up someone else’s life because of his shortcomings. He hasn’t so far, but he lived in fear of it happening. It’s brought him sleepless nights trying to figure cases out, cost him relationships and his confidence. He is sure of one thing though, they got the right guy convicted and now he can go to his little house in the outskirts of town and sleep for ten days.

“The case has been closed, the killer was sentenced to life in prison around thirty minutes ago. We kindly request the press to let the affected family rest and finally deal with their grief at this time. The people of Dewitt can be in peace now, we consider this case to be an anomaly in the otherwise safe community they live in. That’s all I have to say.”

Harrison steps aside and leaves the reporters standing outside of the station as he takes off his tie and shoves it in the pocket of his navy blue suit. The cool spring breeze pushes his hair back as he walks along the sidewalk by the many stores in Harold street. He takes a deep breath, feeling the tension leave his shoulders and smelling freshly ground coffee. Your bookshop is right ahead, the red flowers by the window blooming beautifully under the spring sun and contrasting with the pale yellow of the storefront. Harrison checks his watch, 2:30pm, it’s a bit too late for a coffee but he didn’t drink his usual one this morning and he’d be dammed if he doesn’t take this excuse to see you.

You’re sitting on a table by a bookshelf when he steps into the shop, there’s some papers in front of you, a cup of tea far away from them and what looks like a blueberry muffin by your right hand. Your eyebrows are furrowed while you focus on the words in front of you, almost dropping the piece of muffin you bring to your mouth with a fork. Setting down the fork, you chew on the pastry as you grab a pen and scribble something on one of the papers. It’s only when someone clears their throat behind him that he realizes he’s been leaning on the doorway and staring at you for more than a couple of minutes.

His ears feel like they’re burning when he steps into the shop to let the other person in. It’s George, the owner of the convenience store, who gives him a nod as he walks towards the shelves in the back of the shop. Harrison mumbles a quick apology and walks towards the register where the drink menu is displayed.

“Detective Osterfield.” You smile, standing up when you notice him come into the bookshop. “How was the court this morning?”

“Please, Y/N, call me Harrison.” He feels himself smile as he shakes his head. The case was over so there are no need for formalities, he’d hate it if you only saw him as a professional doing his job whenever he came for coffee. He’s here to see you, the coffee is an added bonus. “Court went well, he got a sentence and the case is closed.”

“That’s good. I bet you’re looking forward to rest for a while.” You walk around the register and move to the expresso machine. “Your usual?”

“No, umm, if I drink coffee right now I won’t sleep and I really need a nap.” He scratches the back of his neck. Why is he always so nervous. He’s seen crime scenes and blood but he can’t talk to you without feeling like a teenager? “But maybe one of those chocolate cookies you’ve got there.”

“Oh! I’m sorry if I’m keeping you then, let me get that cookie for you.” You push your hair behind your ear as you grab a small paper bag and use a napkin to pick a cookie from the jar. “Here you go.”

Harrison can’t help but return the smile you give him and moves to take his wallet from his jacket. “No, you’re fine don’t worry. How much to I owe you?”

“Oh, nevermind that.” You chuckle, smoothing the white blouse you are wearing. “Take it as a thank you for making our town safer.”

Harrison’s ears burn once more, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” You shrug, suddenly looking shy. “Are you, umm, staying in Dewitt? With the case being closed and all?”

Harrison hadn’t even thought about leaving, this town had become part of his routine and he dared say he’s grown fond of it. Not to mention he’d grown fond you. “Yeah, I’m staying.”

“Good, err, great... that’s nice.” You smile. “Would you like to take a walk down to the beach someday? It’s okay if you say no, don’t feel like you have to say yes because of the cookie, it’s not a bribe or anything I just-”

“Y/N.” Harrison stops your rambling stepping towards you. His heart is beating a mile a minute, you just asked him out. The broody shitty detective that takes eight months to figure out a case. He’s the luckiest shitty detective there is. “I’d love that.” He says, taking you hand.

“Really?” You smile, your eyes find his and he’s surprised to see his own. Eyes that smile but not all the way. Eyes that are hiding something painful that’s locked away in your heart.

“Yeah.” He smiles back, squeezing your hand with his before stepping back. “We can go whenever you want, just let me know.” Let me get to know you, he thinks. 

You nod your head and smile at him again, and he is almost certain that you will. It could take time, but he’s willing to wait until the moment you decide you will because he’ll try to do the same. 

----

tagging: @lovestruckhaz @parkerpuffwrites @deleteidentity @lonely--witch @the-claire-bitch-project @rachramblesstuff @peeterparkr @hollandharrison @angelhaz11 💓

[darrycurtises]

hey fam, do all of the aesthetic asks

thanks sun goddess ily

Flower Crown: when did you last sing to yourself

yesterday bc i always sing in the car, i think it was me putting “starman” “here comes the sun” and “ticket to the moon” on repeat the whole way home

Fairy Lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?

i’d like to know what the world will be like in like a century bc i worry about the world i hope she’ll be ok

Daisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life

well i’m a seventeen yr old and not even one of the cool ones that compete in the olympics so its either like UH starting college @ 16 or being published in an official writing anthology

1975: what is the first happy memory that comes to your mind, recent or otherwise?

last year when i went to busch gardens w my sister n my mom and i got to hold a penguin named Turkey ON MY LAP i have pictures to document this (i was chubbier back then tho no judgment)

Matte: if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you’re now living?

yeah i wouldn’t be fucking living in florida and going to school id be using whatever money i could to travel overseas, and then i’d go on a big crosscountry roadtrip 

Black Nail Polish: do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things?

not an official one, just vague “i’d like to do x someday” things

Moodboard: do you feel you had a happy childhood?

yes absolutely

Stars: when did you last cry in front of another person?

last week i went to a funeral and i cried so much they got a picture w me sobbing in the background

Plants: pick a person to stargaze with you, and explain why you picked them

my best friend tomas probably because he’s the only person who wouldnt make fun of me for stargazing

Converse: would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them?

BITVH NO LMAO I DONT EVEN TALK TO MY FRIENDS !!

Lace: when was your last three am conversation with someone, and who were they to you?

again, tomas, my best friend. about 4 days ago?

Handwriting: if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one more person, what would you say and to whom?

oh man i dont even know

Cactus: opinion on brown eyes?

i have them and i love them. got my brown eyed angels all over the place. i know like three people w not-brown eyes 

Sunrise: pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally

Oil Paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?

[Redacted]

Overalls: what would you do with one billion dollars?

id get new cars for my sister and mom bc theirs are v old like ten minutes to start and cough like a smoker old, and id pay my mom’s house off, pay off my sister’s student loans, deposit a lot to my grandma who’s living in an expensive nursing home, donate 2 houston, put away more for my college, lots of stuff

Combat Boots: are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way?

Yes and yes

Winged Eyeliner: write a hundred letter word to your twelve year old self

I don’t need 100 words I just need to tell her to shut up, stop eating so much, try being friends w the girls you don’t like, they were actually nice, you’re not as funny as you think you are save your words for later and think before you speak. Also, thanks for attaching our self worth to our school performance, this isn’t sarcastic, its turning out really well for scholarships

Pastel: would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel?

Leaning more towards pastel, but honestly the most accurate thing would be primary colors/

Tattoos: how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain.

I like them but not on me

Piercings: do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not?

I usually do a quick face for school, but if im in the mood then I like to do the most just because im a teenager and im living in a time of really weird fashion and this is the only time in my life where I’ll be ballsy enough and free enough to buy and wear green eyeshadow. You think that’ll fly when im 30 w a 9-5 job? I think not. Lemme get it outta my system now, while I have ~~~being a teenager~~~ to blame it on

Bands: talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way.

This is gonna sound really depressing but I don’t believe in love bc of the avett brothers song “January wedding. He was so in love with her when he wrote it and for years I was like “this is love theyre so in love” and then bam we get the true sadness album and January wedding gets followed by “divorce separation blues.” Who can be that in love with someone and then just. Stop. I don’t get it, love isn’t real.

Messy Bun: the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them.

This is too much pressure

Cry Baby: list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel.

Ive seen the avett brothers 3 times and they were amazing every single time, just wowowow I got the “fuck it,  im standing up and singing” mood. Ive also seen boston and foreigner, which were also fun, but mostly bc of the 50 yr old stoners in the crowds.

Grunge: who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?

My papa, and I’d like it to say [classified] and maybe I’d like him to say [redacted].

Space: do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised?

I have a permanent set up at the kitchen table from august thru may, and its perpetually in disarry.

White Bed Sheets: what is your night time routine?

Face mask, hair care, moisturizer, vanilla tea, set up the coffee maker for the next morning, pack my book bag, pray, bed.

Old Books: what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know?

I’d like my mom not to know that she’s kind of annoying to watch movies w (it’d break her heart shes so sensitive aw) and id like my dad not to know where I live

Beaches: if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why?

I have dyed my hair I went red for a bit but now its brown. Id never do anything that require I bleach it bc I love myself and wont do that to my head

Eyes: pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do?

Id take my mom, sister, my friends [classified], [classified], and [classified] to new york w me so we can do horrible cheesy touristy stuff, and then I’d have them go w me on a cross country roadtrip

11:11: name three wishes and why you wish for them.

If I tell u my wish it wont come true

Painting: what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up.

Its gonna be this year’s ive already perfected the make up im gonna be a mime and its amazing

Lightning: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high?

Literally nothing ive never gotten high bc it seems uhhh not fun, but ive gotten a lil drunk before (I don’t like to drink bc it makes my head hurt and it’s a lot of calories) but I get sad id be a sad drunk so I just cried.

Thunder: what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars?

Anything thatd harm a person/animal. Never kill, never maim. If u handed me a gun and said “shoot a deer ill give you a million dollars” I couldn’t do it. If I had to break someones arm for a million dollars I couldn’t do it.

Storms: you on only listen to one song for the rest of your life, or only see one person for the rest of your life. which and why?

Song, bc I love people, ill just listen to a podcast while I run I guess

Love: have you ever fallen in love? describe what it feels like to realize you’re in love.

Not really, only a little bit of an “I’d like to love them” sort of thing

Clouds: if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair?

Im a girl and id never rock short hair bc I don’t have the jaw for it, and I like my long hair to make my jaw look sharper

Coffee: what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone?

I just get iced black tea bc starbucks coffee is ass, and id trust my mom. Not my sister or my friends bc theyd get me sugar in my tea instead of unsweet w honey

Marble: what is the most important thing to you in your life right now?

The things my life has revolved around for years lmao my loved ones and school

[rosalietodd013]

Forever (Part 9): First Heartbreak

Summary: The reader takes a trip down memory lane that makes her realize that being alone in the cabin might not have been the best idea. But will someone from her past convince her otherwise?

Warnings: angst, thoughts of suicide, hopelessness

Word Count: 4,808

Catch Up on the rest of the story: Part 1 HERE, Part 2 HERE, Part 3 HERE, Part 4 HERE, Part 5 HERE, Part 6 HERE, Part 7 HERE, Part 8 HERE

EMERGENCY A/N: READ THE A/N AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER. IT IS IMPARITIVE TO THE FATE OF THE STORY.

A/N: The journal entries in this chapter are not all of the entries the reader wrote about. As time goes on, there will be more that tie into future chapters, I just chose ones that followed past events that you guys have already heard about, and some that go along with this chapter or the next one.

Song Title: Loosely based off First Heartbreak by Tori Kelly. If you have ever heard the song, you’ll figure that out. The title is basically symbolism for what the reader has gone through and the source of her pain.

BTW: There are always GIFs and pictures for each chapter that you can either see on wattpad or Tumblr.

For the first little while, I keep myself as composed as I can. The first day, naturally, I explore the rest of the cabin to see what there is to see. First I find out that the places is a lot bigger and has a lot more to do than I first thought. Apparently, there is an indoor swimming pool on the bottom floor across the hall from a home theater. I really underestimated Angelina’s wealth and creativity before. She really goes all out on her safe houses. More like resort to me.

I also find an armory with a plethora of guns, knives, bottles of what I think is holy water, and an endless supply of ammo. It almost seems like she was trying to prepare for the end of the world. The Apocolypse, I would be so bold to say if I hadn’t know something like that was bound to never happen. Who would be dumb enough to start something like that, monsters or humans?

Over the next couple weeks, I start my day with a swim before going to the library to do my final few online classes, then research some to see if there are any hunts near me in order to stay sane and keep up a regular routine. I don’t know if I should be happy or disappointed when my searches turn up fruitless, so my studies keep me occupied for the time being. A part of me actually misses the assholes from all the schools we used to go to.

After my brother had left us, we didn’t have to worry about staying in a town longer than mandatory for a hunt. I didn’t have to worry about getting up at a particular time every day – besides the designated times Dad had Dean and I get up for morning training. I didn’t have to worry about getting adjusted to a new school or being deemed the school’s new freak.

Life wasn’t perfect, but it was a weight off my shoulders, especially since I didn’t have to experience all the same things as my brothers when they were my age in school.

The only good thing I know I’ll miss about going to public school is that I’ll never get to experience a lot of the best things about school like them too. Like I’ll never get to go to senior prom; that;s just a few short months away too. I won’t be able to formally compete for valedictorian, something I’m close to being online, but it’s not the same. I’ll never get a shot at a high school sweetheart – someone that isn't a member of my family – who would make me forget my first heartbreak. Someone who I might’ve felt comfortable enough to share my first time with.

But most of that doesn’t bother me anymore. Sure, when I was in my sophomore year I dreamed of what I would get to do during my senior year like most people. Senior skip day and senior prank day were the most anticipated for me because of Sam and Dean’s.

For Dean’s senior prank,  he went into the principle’s office and took out all the bolts and screws in his desk and put superglue in his chair. I was still in middle school at the time, but Mr. Maclock had a habit of sitting on his desk during morning announcements on TV, and Dean got me a video; the way the man fell when the desk collapsed underneath him was HI-larious because he wasn’t a small man.

We were out of town before he was able to pinpoint it back to Dean ­–not that he ever had a doubt Dean wasn’t the culprit. He didn’t have any definitive proof that pointed to my brother. He was always causing trouble at every school he went to, with the girls or teachers sometimes both, all in one, but he loved to fuck with that particular principle for some reason.

Then there was Sam’s senior skip day. We were staying in Howell Township, New Jersey at the time; Dad and Dean had been hunting a pack of werewolves with another group of hunters because apparently, this particular pack had over 30 wolves in it. After Dad and Dean had left after dropping me off at Howell High, Sam came back to get me in the Impala – the oldest Winchesters having ridden with some of the other hunters; let me tell you, Dean almost killed Sam when he found out he had been driving what we all know was his future ‘Baby’ –and chose to take me to Six Flags: Great Adventure.

Because it was so close to summer vacation and graduation for the senior class of 2002, the park was hot and packed, but I didn’t mind. We got to ride every ride in the park, not something everyone can say they’ve done, plus Kingda Ka, twice. It was one of those rare days that we could be a couple without the fear of someone recognizing us – e.i Dad and Dean. There was a photo booth, and we were the clique couple that went in and took goofy pictures. On the last one, I kissed him, the rush of the day overtaking me, and it had to be my favorite picture of all. Both of us got a copy of the strip, and to this day I keep mine in a journal I write in because I wanted it to be something I could keep close to me without the fear that Dad or Dean might see it. By the end of the day, we exhausted beyond belief, and both Dean and Dad chewed us out for vanishing without telling them, but it was the best day of my life.

The more I think about it now, Sam probably did that on purpose, knowing that it would be the last time the two of us would spend that kind of time together for a while. If ever again.

I should have seen it coming. How excited he was when he got me out of AP Calculus. His smile was broad and genuine, but there was something else there that I couldn’t pinpoint at the time. But now I realize it was sadness, guilt even. When he spoke, his words held so much joy and happiness though; it was contagious. I pushed that hidden emotion to the back of my mind because I thought it was nothing and that Sam was just happy that the two of us didn’t get to spend enough time together, and that we finally were.

It was always Sam, Dean, and I when Sam started his senior year. Dad didn’t do that intentionally, there just seemed to be so many more hunts and so much going on that the time, like all the monsters decided that that was the time to come out and do whatever they felt like. Sometimes Dean would leave Sam and I to help Dad with the tougher hunts, not that either of us minded, and they would both be gone from a few days to a few weeks at a time. Rarely would they call Sam out to help, and when it did happen it was sporadic, and one of them would be back to check on me every night.

January of 2002, the January Sam left, things slowed down, and Dad and Dean were around more than ever it seemed. Almost to the point where we were all annoyingly close in our small, cramped motel rooms. So when Sam offered to take me out for a little while on a date to one of the best amusement parks in the country, I was out of my seat and halfway to the office before Mrs. Brooks even got my whole name out through the intercom system.

That all feels like a lifetime ago now, almost three years in May. When I take my journal out of my bag and look at the strip of pictures Sam and I took at Six Flags, I look at our happy, smiling faces, the faces of a couple who planned to be together forever, sealed with a kiss that promised just as much and so much more. At that point, I realize that was a lifetime ago and the good times only last so long. People eventually have to grow up and move onto greener pastures and more beautiful, more practical relationships. But some are stuck in the past, living in the happiness of a past long forgotten.

I don’t realize I’m crying until my tears hit the photos in my hands, but I don’t stop them or try to be strong this time. I just let them fall until the pain in my chest goes away.

What was I thinking? This pain is never going away. It’s been with me for too long. It’s a part of me. That part of me that just can’t seem to let him go. And I can’t let him go. I just have to keep moving, doing things to help take my mind off him. Huh, how well has that worked in the past?

I continue with the same routine of schoolwork and research during this time until my classes end, and with online classes being different from on-campus classes, they are over in January as opposed to May or June like most traditional high schools. When this happens, I don’t know what to do with my newfound free time.

I walk around the cabin aimlessly most of the time, not knowing what to do with myself until I can’t anymore and choose to wander the surrounding woods. I discover a lake about a half mile from the cabin, and I know this is going to be the place I spend my time from now on.

Something about the place feels, I don’t know, light? It doesn’t make me feel better per say. I guess it’s just being in a new place. Don’t get me wrong, the cabin is huge and beautiful with so much to do, but I don’t feel like any of those walls, rooms with TVs with cable that I never turn on – not even just the basic channels either ­– or the seemingly endless supply of both lore and pleasure books in the library can make me forget the pain I feel.

I’ve been here for almost five months now; it’s getting around the time for warm weather clothes, so hours spent at the lake get longer and longer. I don’t do anything for the longest while I’m there either. I get up, maybe take a shower, then go down to the water – I choose to give up searching for new hunts as well as swimming a while ago because I don’t feel the need to anymore – maybe with an apple or something.

While I am there, I find myself looking out at the water from my position on the beach, just watching as if something amazing would happen. The most entertainment I find there comes when ducks or geese swarm over the water, fighting over whatever breakfast they find. Whenever that isn't happening, I get lost in my thoughts about my past, the things I’ve tried so damn hard to push away, trying to imagine they never happened. Sometimes I’m not fazed by these thoughts, others I can’t help sobbing at the beauty and tragedy known as my past.

Eventually, when the emotions are so tangled and indistinguishable from one another, I realize that this feeling is somewhat similar to something I felt when I was younger. I was scared and confused with everything I was going through with school and my feelings for Sam that I needed to emit some of those pent up and jumbled emotions without anyone else being affected or knowing. So I took some of the money that Dad left for the three of us when he went on a hung and bought myself a journal.

I haven't felt the desire to write in a while. Not with everything going on in the past few years. I use to write in it all the time when my family was whole; I practically wrote something own every day. Typical journal stuff.

April 1, 1997

Dear Diary,

Sammy and I came up with this hilarious prank for Dad and Dean. We found this practical jokes store and bought stickers that mimic scratches to put on Baby. We waited until last night, when they were both sleeping, then went out to “decorate” her. It was so funny, and the looks on their faces was priceless. They thought someone did it trying to break in or one of Dean’s past flings had caught up with him somehow. When they saw Sammy and I cracking up when we called out “April Fools”, they really lost their marbles. I honestly thought they were gonna kill us ‘til we took off the stickers. Now we have to wash the Impala for the next year, but it was totally worth it. Best. Prank. Ever.

…

March 30, 1999

Dear Diary,

Sammy and I had our first kiss today. Not a platonic, sibling kisses. It was like one of those kisses that you see in those romantic movies when the boy and girl stare lovingly into each other’s eyes before leaning into each other’s lips as the music reaches crescendos. That’s it felt when he started kissing back anyway because it was technically an accidental kiss, but whatever. I was scared out of my mind that he was gonna hate me forever for my feelings towards him, but he actually felt the same. Can you believe that? My brother actually feels the same feelings for me. Most brothers wouldn’t be able to look at their sisters if they said something like that to them, but not my Sammy. We spent about an hour making out last night before we fell asleep in each other’s arms. We sleep in the same bed most of the time, but this was different. And Sam said we could do it all again whenever we wanted to, as long as Daddy and Dean weren't there, for obvious reasons, and man do I plan on doing that again. God, life is looking brighter every day.

…

April 15, 2002

Dear Diary,

I’ve never had so much fun in my whole life. Sam took me to Six Flags today. On a date! OMG! We didn’t have to keep our not so, sibling-like glances to ourselves as well as our hands. I mean we held hands a lot before, but everyone knew it didn’t mean anything. Today, everyone who saw us immediately knew we were a couple. We could act like a real couple, eating cotton candy and drinking milkshakes and all that cliché stuff Dean likes to act like he doesn’t like. Even a cheesy set of pictures in one of those classic photo booths. At first, I thought something was off with Sammy and haven't really thought about it until now, but then we got to the park and had the time of our lives. Guess I was just paranoid because everything seemed so perfect and amazing, beyond amazing, today. Best freaking day ever.

…

December 15, 2002

Dear Diary,

I don’t know what to think right now. Sammy told me he would be back for me around Thanksgiving at the earliest, but he hasn’t so much as called. I knew he might not be there directly at Thanksgiving, he said as much, but when my birthday past in these past few weeks and he didn’t call or send me a letter or something, I was deeply discouraged. I try and call and text his phone as often as I can, but he never answers or replies. I’m going to keep hope alive that he’s coming back for me, but as the days pass, hope seems harder and harder to hold onto.

…

May 3, 2003

Dear Diary,

I tried to call him again yesterday to wish him a happy birthday, a courtesy h didn’t even consider for me, but the operator said the number was no longer in service. My first thought was that the concept was crazy. I’ve been texting him for months to check on him, but the next was that he never answered those calls or texts or even gave a sign that he would. Maybe this was his way of telling me to fuck off. Well, you know what? Screw him and his dream life. Screw his promises at a normal life for the both of us. I shouldn’t have even opened myself up to the idea of something so perfect. With my life, that was never a realistic dream. When he kissed me goodbye in Mesa, I should have known he was saying goodbye forever. Well, I’m gonna give him exactly what he wants. He’ll never see me again. Fuck you, Sammy.

That was a long time ago, well almost two years actually. I was so angry at him for betraying me. For lying. For leaving me behind. Around that same time, I started hunting with Dad and Dean. I needed the distraction, and they needed the extra set of hands. I don’t actually know how long it took for them to realize that wasn’t true.

They didn’t need me. Not really. They needed to get their minds right and not get killed in the meantime. I was that window of opportunity. I was only helping them buy time until they could become the hunters we all knew they were, before Sam. I don’t even know why I kid myself.

My family has never needed me. I’m the one Winchester child that was never planned. Most would say that I’m just being insecure and ridiculous, but what if I said that I heard those words directly from my father’s mouth? Still, think I’m being insecure or ridiculous?

This was back when Sam and I both stayed at Bobby’s while Dad and sometimes Dean went out on hunts for long periods of time. Dad had just gotten back from a solo hunt. It was like three in the morning, so he had decided that he would let us sleep ‘til dawn before we headed out.

None of us knew he was there, so when I woke up in the middle of the night and heard his voice, I immediately got out of bed, careful not to wake up my brother whom I still slept with from time to time ­– I still had to be eleven at the time – and made my way downstairs.

I could hear their hushed whispering get clearer and clearer as I made my descent.

“…appened to us. (Y/N) was never supposed to have been born, and after hunts like that, I regret keeping her because of this life we lead. She won’t survive without her brothers and I, and that terrifies me.” I could hear the couch crunch under his weight when Dad sat down.

“Listen to me John Winchester, that little girl is stronger than you give her credit for. Possibly even stronger than you and your boys because of the things in the life you chose for you all. Don’t ever let her hear you say something like that. She looks up to you and your boys, but you especially because she sees you as the hero every little girl sees her father as. Don’t ruin that and get those thoughts out of your head. What would Mary say if she heard you say something like that about her baby girl?” Bobby scolded harshly, always quick to defend my brothers and I.

But I didn’t really pay attention to anything Bobby had said, so caught up in what my dad had said. I had so many thoughts running through my head at that time. Did my father not want me? Did he really regret having me? Keeping me after Mom died? How long had he felt like this? What could I do?

Eventually, I got up, having tuned out the rest of their conversation as I sat on the stairs in shock and with tears in my eyes. When I got back to Sam’s room, I wrapped myself around him, wanting to feel safe and warm after hearing something so cold and discouraging from someone who I was never supposed to feel like this about. There was no one in the world who could do that better than Sam.

I never told him or anyone about what I heard that night. I didny even write about it because  I just wanted to forget. I looked at my father differently after that and noticed that he had a look in his eyes whenever he looked at me too. He was scared for me, I know, but I could also see the regret for what I now know was caused by my existence as a whole. And I hated it.

When I went to Bobby’s from then on, I trained longer and harder, and I knew Bobby knew something was up with me, but he never pushed me to tell him. And I never wanted to. I wanted to give my father a reason to want and need me, even if he didn’t know what I could do. I knew that eventually, I would get the chance to, and I did. In the time between Sam leaving and seeing him again, my father was proud of me. Of what I could do, but at that point, it didn’t matter to me anymore.

Eventually, I stopped caring and trying. Sam made me feel loved and wanted and needed. He made me forget about all the problems and insecurities I had about Dad. And that lasted for a good two years before he decided that he wanted to go to college and live out his normal life, alone. All of my emotions from then on were based off my feelings for Sam, even if I told myself otherwise. He made me stronger as a hunter, but weaker as an ordinary girl. But at the end of the day, those girls were the same person and weakness in one reflected in the other.

It makes me think that maybe those feelings I had so long ago, and Dad's words were true. I’m the outsider in this family. I’m the little girl who needs her brothers and father to help her through her problems and keep her together.

I can’t remember the last time I ate something or did something productive. Dean would be on my ass, force feeding me if he were here. Dad would scold me for how messy the place is. Books thrown all over the library, dishes from the last time I ate with food that is turning colors and emitting smells that food shouldn’t turn or smell like in the sink, and all in someone else’s place. Sam would be the one focusing on my current state of mind, and it’s not until April that I realize how much I miss and need them all.

I need them. I don’t know how to do this without them, and I haven't put in the effort to really try and figure it out.

God, I don’t want to be alone anywhere, but I made my choice in Palo Alto to be alone and abandoned my family. That makes me just as bad as, if not worse than, Sam. I could never face them now because I know that if I did, I’d see the same sadness and disappointment in their eyes the night he left.

I can’t live like that. With that. My family has never been too forgiving when it comes to leaving or disappearing for a prolonged period of time. For any reason. I know Dean has never truly gotten over Dad leaving all those times when we were younger. Hell, he still kind of holds grudges now. So did Sam and so do I.

I also know that my father, brother, and I haven’t – and probably never will – forgive Sam for leaving us the way he did. At this point in time, since I’ve left without a trace in a way worse than Sam, my family probably hates me. They probably blame themselves first and foremost, but at the end of the day, I know that they hate me for what I did. Putting them through this pain again.

Hell, I hate me for doing that to them. I wasn’t thinking clearly when I left, and now it’s too late to change things.

I’m miserable here, and sometimes I wish I could start over. Go back to the way it was before he left. The family moving around from place to place; all of us together and as happy as we once were.

That’s what I wanted when Sam told me he was leaving. That’s what I wanted after the year he was gone. That’s what I want now. But right now I’m just sad. I just it all to go away and for it all to be over.

A part of me just wants to end it. I’ve walked into the kitchen before and just stared at the knives for hours, imagining what it would be like to slit my wrists while I lay in the bathtub. Hell, I took a knife with me one day and just held onto it, but then I thought about the hassle it would be for someone else to clean everything up. I’m not doing that to someone else. Hunters might be warriors in their own right, but no one was built to handle something like that.

So I write instead. Every time I feel like I can’t do this by myself, I write down what I’m feeling. Every thought, every emotion, everything. It doesn’t cure my illness, but it relieves some of the pain and pressure. I write about my past with Sam, my feelings towards my family, all the pain, but also all the good. Dreams and wishes.

I write about my dad most of all. You’d think my thoughts and emotions would be mostly Sam based, but my dad is part of the cause. He’s the reason our lives are the way they are – I don’t mean that negatively by the way – he’s the reason Bobby had to give us all semblance of a normal life. But he’s also the reason Sam and I got together. Most of what’s happened ‘til now is because of him. And even though I was a major bitch to him after Sam left, I don’t hate him. I love him so much, and I wish I knew he felt the same because he is just as much a victim as the rest of us.

So I write about what it would be like if Mom never died. Birthdays, father-daughter dances, everything that I would have had if that thing hadn’t made the hardass soldier he had to become. But I can dream. It’s what I’ve had to do since I was a little girl. The only way I can begin to believe in happiness.

I spend nine months alone. Halloween, my birthday, Christmas, but I send Dean a post card I got in Nebraska to him for his birthday. I watch the seasons change from fall to winter to spring and eventually summer. All of it alone. I don’t go to the lake anymore because I barely get out of bed. On the rare chance that I do, I either sit in one of the chairs in my bedroom and stare out the window, or I sit on the couch in the living room and do the same.

I don’t talk to anyone outside the grocer at the store a few miles from the cabin. She tries to be friendly and get me to converse with her, but I never do. I barely smile at her, yet she always has something nice to say. I don’t think much of her because I don’t pay much attention to anything nowadays.

I don’t even notice the familiar vibe I had whenever I was around someone close to me or in my family until it’s almost unbearable. It’s around this time that I hear a knock on the cabin door. Hunter’s instincts tell me to grab my gun, but the feeling in my stomach tells me that I don’t need it. I just need whoever is on the other side of that door.

I pull my cardigan all the way over myself even though it has to be nearly 85 degrees and take a deep breath before going to unlock and open the door. When I do so, I’m with a face I didn’t think I’d ever see again.

“How did you find me?”

Part 10

A/N: So I’m doing a poll that will determine the fate of the next few chapters of this story. I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and each option works for me, but each has pros and cons that I will explain. After this chapter, there is one more before the series premiere which the reader is not in. You all determine what I do directly after the events of the pilot episode. BTW, when picking an option, just keep in mind that the climax of the story isn’t until after the season three finale. The option that is chosen at the end of the poll will be explained in further detail when chosen. Also, the poll is in my bio on fanfiction.net, so if you can, vote there, otherwise leave it in the comments or send me a PM.

Option 1: I can do a series rewrite. This means exactly what it sounds like. My ideas take the Winchesters all the way up to the season three finale, unchanged and with the reader. Everything after that changes. Basically, all you will be seeing is the reader’s POV for each episode. Occasionally I might change it up to Sam or Dean or someone else in the episode’s POV, but nothing really changes. The pros are that you can see everything that happens step by step. How the relationships with the reader and the boys evolve over time, how the reader reacts to different events throughout each episode, and some fillers that I will have to put in to allot for time for the Winchesters between episodes. The cons to this option are the fact that the story itself will not start back up for 60 episodes minimum. That’s two to three chapters for each, which means between 120 to 180 chapters plus a handful of fillers before the story that I intend to finish will be back on track. All of that is background info for events and clues that follow the season finale and may contribute to the rest of the story but probably won’t make a huge difference at the end of the day. This option means that the audience will be caught up in everything that happens between seasons one and three with the reader and her brothers.

Option 2: I can rewrite a few episodes from each season. Just the most important, plus some fillers from the show. So the season premieres and finales would get their own chapters, episode changers for a whole season, etc. For this particular option, after the story really starts back up, I might do a side series that is connected to this story that goes back and shows brief glimpses of what happened for each episode. The chapters probably won’t be longer than you average drabble, maybe more, but most of what happens between seasons one and three that aren't explained in detail will be explained after the finale. At least the parts that are valuable for that chapter. The pro for this option is the fact that the story will be back on track after a handful of chapters with a little déjà vu from the series. The con is the fact that the audience probably won’t get to see how the reader’s relationship with her brothers changes, only the output, which may be confusing as the story goes on, but will get cleared up in time.

Option 3: This option basically consist of a quick summary of seasons one and two from the reader’s POV. It would basically be like the past few chapters where the reader talks about how being back with her brothers is affecting her, how she handles major events, etc. It would be a chapter or two, so we’d be back on schedule soon. That’s one of the pros, the other is that the flow of the story doesn’t change. It would be the same as the past few chapters so there wouldn’t be an adjustment period for the story getting back on track. The only con that I can think of would be the same as for the second option. The audience would miss a lot of what happens in the time between the season premiere and the season three finale. But again, everything would come back into focus as the story goes on. This option also works with the whole side series idea in chapter two. It would make it easier for you all to understand.

The thing about option one though is that you have to pay attention later because some of the small easy to miss details will come back to play a part. For options two and three, if you haven't seen the series in a minute, or ever, you might want to rewatch it, but that isn't mandatory. If anyone has any questions, comments, or concerns with these options, you can send me a PM or leave a comment in this chapter or the next depending on what happens first, the poll going up or the next chapter. 

Tags: @sharethelovebeauty , @pretty-fortune

@ If you want to be tagged in this story or any of the others in my masterlist, just let me know. I also do forever (not the story this time) tags.

[storyboxlibrary]

Author Zanni Louise on Starting School survival strategies!

It’s a new school year in Australia. Last year, I was sending both my girls off to big school for the first time. It was emotional. But they coped better than I did! I still remember my little one disappearing into the classroom, no time for goodbyes. Meanwhile, I stood outside the room, my eyes filled with tears, knowing that I’d reached the end of an era. No more kids at home.

I rattled around the house for a while, wondering what to do with myself. When I picked her up that afternoon, it was all smiles and chatter. I still can’t believe it was only a year ago. How quickly you get used to a new kind of normal. All kids (and parents) have different thoughts and feelings about starting school. Lucky for us parents, we can access our online forums for advice. We also have access to some wonderful children’s books.

A few years ago, I wrote the first TIGGY AND THE MAGIC PAINTBRUSH story, and decided that starting school was the biggest event in my daughter’s life so far, so would make a good topic for the book. It would also give me an excuse to introduce the other characters in Tiggy’s class.

Observing my daughter made me realise that kids don’t have a single emotion about starting school - they have a plethora. A spectrum, even. Emotions range from giddy, excited, nervous, sad, anxious … and so on. When I visit schools, I ask kids if they can remember how they felt starting school. Most can, and again, most have a range of emotions around the experience. I wanted to tap into this with ‘A School Day Smile’. I wanted to show that being shy and brave simultaneously is possible. So is being excited and nervous.

I also wanted to explore kids’ resilience, and some of the strategies kids use when getting used to an unfamiliar environment. Kids are awesome. I love celebrating that in my stories.

You can watch ‘A School Day Smile’ here. 

Two new Tiggy books: ‘A Very Wobbly Tooth’ and ‘A Hide-And-Seek Sleepover’ are released this April with Hardie Grant Egmont.

I tapped into my online communities, and asked parents how they helped their kids adjust to starting school. These wonderful people are happy for me to share their wisdom with you here.

First day of school wisdom from parents “Remember that, even if they cry, they’ll be fine once you leave. Also, go and walk through the school while it’s empty, so they can get used to the size of the buildings.” Pamela Freeman. “Create a routine for the morning that you’re going to be happy to continue with throughout their school life. Don’t pepper them with questions as soon as they get through the front door at the end of the day. Give them downtime. Asking a couple of questions over dinner is a good way to instigate a conversation. What was your favourite thing today? What are you looking forward to most tomorrow?” Ruth Devine. “An extra half hour on the first morning means less hurry and stress for everyone.” Christina Loeve. “Don’t worry about homework. Just cuddle them, feed them and listen to them when they get home.” Hannah Robertson. “Be prepared to feel anxious! But it settles down.” Jenna Shelley. “Make time to volunteer at the school – you will meet a lot of wonderful people as well as get to know your child’s new friends and teachers.” Caz Greene. “Check that they can open the little lunch boxes that you give them. Some have super tough latches that even I struggle to click open.” Lucy Estela. “Volunteering in your child’s classroom is great because you get a real feel for what it’s like for them all day, what the teacher is like, what various kids in the class are like (they’ll talk about their classmates at home).” Amelia McInerney. “Morning and after school routines have worked well for our family. What’s more, we talk about everything – sometimes what our child has ‘done’ is not as important as what they felt.” Simone Blom. “Start building a community straight away.” Lauren Jackman. “Read lovely picture books about starting school. They can help them to feel prepared and give them a sense of what to expect.” Holly Bidwell. “Do everything possible to celebrate the little wins in the big pond of school life.” Julie Grasso. “Packing a ‘school lunch’ in the holidays to ensure everyone can open their new lunch boxes and containers etc. is very helpful. And velcro fasteners for shoes!” Jacinta Froud. “Practice run of the toilets! Or public toilet lock practice … Getting ready routine list on the fridge and practice run. Starting school books. Drawing a matching heart button on my hand and hers comforted her – press and each other will feel the love.” Michelle Wanasundera. “If they need a day off and you’re able to be there don’t worry about what everyone else will think. Trust your parenting style.” Penelope Pratley. “Be prepared for extra tiredness and crankiness to begin with. And if they are excited, expect that to wear off within a couple of weeks. It takes time for them to settle into a routine and cope with the demands of school, so it’s a good idea not to do any extra-curricular activities for the first term or two.” Pamela Uekerman. “Teachers are your teammates.” Artelle Lenthall. “Draw a picture on the brown lunch bag each day with a little motivating message like ‘You’re a star!’” Kim Langfield. “Don’t stress about it too much as children pick up on how parents are feeling.” Katja Bertazzo. “After a long, hot summer wearing thongs, try and wear new school shoes an hour a day. Blisters and boo boos on your first day of school, on top of everything else … not good.” Macarena Smartt “Buy an extra hat and leave it in the car. Label everything, even undies.” Jo Staker. “From a primary school principal’s perspective, I always encourage the prep parents not to do everything for their children (carrying school bags in, unpacking their readers and getting their desks at up etc).” Riss Leung. “Advice for parents: be brave! Smiles and cuddles for your kiddies, ugly cries for after school drop-off.” Renee Price. “New routine for the family with a child starting big school for the first time will take time to settle. I’d give it at least term 1, if not longer for things to settle down.” Katrina McKelvey. “I put a little smiley love heart note in their lunch box so they get a surprise at snack time.” Rosalie Street. “Another way to connect at the end of the day is to ask what their favourite thing for that day was rather than ‘what did you do today?’” Cate Whittle. “Arrive for pickup a little early so you have time to meet and get to know the other parents/carers. This is useful in developing a support/friend network for you and your child. There’s a wealth of knowledge and experience among the parent/carer network, and future friends to be made.” Julie Murphy. “1. Keep the first term free of most other extra curricular things as they get used to the routine of school. 2. Don’t be surprised by Week 6 of the first term they have a complete melt down, it is completely normal as exhaustion sets in and the reality that school is now life 3. On the first day, don’t linger. Say goodbye on a positive note and leave… it’s ok to have a little cry in the car but don’t let them see it!” Anna Partridge. “My youngest is starting this year & we’ve been reading Meredith Costaintain’s My First Day of School; Davina Bell’s Lemonade Jones & Barbara Park’s Junie B Jones. Lots of opportunities to have a laugh & a bit of a chat about expectations. A Novel Prescription for Kindergarteners!” Zewlan Moor. “Be prepared to feel like they’ve just joined the army and then realize that your child is more capable than you would ever think!” Bethany Tyson. — Thank you, parents, for all your wonderful advice! I hope it helps … Will be thinking of all those littlies, with their big backpacks, and black school shoes very soon! Oh, and all the crying mums. Don’t worry. I know all about it!

Zanni Louise has published several picture books, an early reader series and has a junior fiction series coming out in 2019. She is passionate about inspiring kids and their adults to write, and read. Learn more about Zanni’s books and workshops at www.zannilouise.com.

[eathealthylivefree]

Plogging: Good for You and Your Community

I’m starting to think I have some Swedish blood/genealogy connection thing going on because every time I read about a new trend originating from that country, I realize I’m already doing it.

The first time was when I wrote about Swedish death cleaning, which is the process of minimizing your possessions so your children won’t have to deal with tons of stuff after you die. I’ve been in a decluttering phase for the past two years.

Then in April I read an article about “plogging,” which is essentially the process of working out and picking up trash at the same time. News flash:  I get irate when I see litter.  It drives me nuts that people throw their trash outside instead of holding onto it until they (1) see a trash receptacle or (2) wait until they get home to dispose of it.

Maybe it was watching that commercial as a kid of a Native American Indian crying over litter (it was a public service advertisement for Keep America Beautiful), but I have always been a stickler for picking up trash. For many Americans, the Crying Indian became a symbol of environmental idealism.

Now Sweden’s latest fitness craze — plogging — is making its way to U.S. shores. The term is a mix of words combining jogging and the Swedish “plocka upp,” which means to “pick up.” In this case, litter. I have been “plogging” for years when I walk; as a matter of fact it is a family thing that my parents and I have been doing for over 25 years.

Plogging is not a hard activity to incorporate into your exercise routine if you are a runner or walker (although walking makes it a little easier to grab trash). I bought one of those “grabber” devices at an estate sale years ago, and have since picked up an extra one.

I can usually find one for a dollar or so at an estate sale or garage sale.  They are generally found in the homes of elderly people who at some point needed a tool to help them reach into high places in their closets or cupboards.

Technically, you don’t need to use a grabber; you can just bend down and pick up the piece of trash. It will give you a better workout if you do it that way (like doing squats). I do recommend wearing some type of work glove, though.

When I get ready to go out for my walk, I grab a heavy vinyl “trash” bag, my grabber, and set off. If I see litter on the street or in the grass, I cinch it with my grabber and drop it into the bag.

Quiz question:  Anyone want to guess what I pick up most (not counting cigarette butts)?  Answer at the end of the article.

On any given day I can easily fill two bags with trash; even more so the day after garbage day. I know where all the trash cans in town are located, so I can empty my bag if I need to when it gets full.

Plogging is a win/win for you and your community–you get the benefits of a daily workout and your community looks pristine. Additionally, you might find something of value. I’ve found both a $10 and $5 dollar bill on the street, as well as tons of change. But the biggest reward is just doing something of value for yourself (exercise) and the community.

Quiz Answer:  Empty cigarette packs and beverage containers (water, pop, beer, etc).

Written by:  Donna Green, Extension Educator, Family and Consumer Sciences, Ohio State University Extension, Erie County, green.308@osu.edu

  Reviewed by:  Beth Stefura, Extension Educator, Family & Consumer Sciences, Ohio State University Extension, Mahoning County, stefura.2@osu.edu

  Sources:

https://www.adcouncil.org/Our-Campaigns/The-Classics/Pollution-Keep-America-Beautiful-Iron-Eyes-Cody

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/inspired-life/wp/2018/02/23/plogging-is-the-swedish-fitness-craze-for-people-who-want-to-save-the-planet-its-making-its-way-to-the-u-s/?utm_term=.6ea8afdeb9a0

from Live Healthy Live Well https://ift.tt/2jWOOol

[documentinghistoricalevents-blog]

Homeless of East Asia find refuge at McDonald’s

by Javier C. Hernandez

International New York Times, January 2-3 2016 (Sat-Sun), P.1 & 4

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Fast-food chain is home for downtrodden with no better place to sleep

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     He woke to the cry of the morning janitor. “Put your shoes on!” she said. “Put your shoes on!” she rattled a chair. “This isn’t your house! Sit up!”

     Ding Xinfeng’s eyes blinked open. Dawn had yet to break, but inside a 24-hour McDonald’s restaurant in central Beijing, more than a dozen homeless people had begun their daily routines.

     Mr. Ding lifted his head, revealing a mess of food stains and decorative slogans on the table in front of him. “Wake up every morning with the thought that something wonderful is about to happen,” one read.

     Mr. Ding could not read the English, but he said he liked the warmth of this table, in this corner, in the peace of McDonald’s, the place he had called home for several years.

     Every night across East Asia, in major cities like Beijing, Hong Kong and Tokyo, an invisible class of people – shut out of shelter systems, scorned by their families, down on their luck – turn to a beacon of Americana for a warm, dry place to sleep.

     By day, the McDonald’s restaurants host birthday parties and book clubs. By night, when the floors have been mopped a final time and the pop music turned down, they become sanctuaries for the downtrodden, who pounce on half-eaten hamburgers and stale French fries, and stake out prized sleeping spots in padded booths.

     Often called McRefugees, they vanish at sunrise, some combing their hair with plastic forks before slinking outside into the masses.

     On a November morning, as the wind howled outside, Mr. Ding’s McDonald’s began to fill up with schoolchildren, yam sellers, retirees armed with chess pieces and red-eyed street patrolmen.

     He began to circle, making his pitch for donations.

     “My family has begged for food since the Ming dynasty,” he said. “I’m the 19th generation. There will be no beggars in China after I’m dead.”

     A man offered a newspaper. A woman gave the equivalent of 50 cents (S$0.72). A young girl extended a French fry.

     Mr. Ding returned to his seat, opened the newspaper, and began studying the lottery numbers, searching for patterns.

     While other restaurants might kick them out, McDonald’s generally embraces wanderers like Mr. Ding, who have flocked to the chain as it has rolled out more 24-hour locations in Asia. More than half of the 2,200 McDonald’s restaurants in mainland China are now open 24 hours a day.

     McDonald’s has spent decades cultivating an image of community here, building bright, stylish restaurants and adjusting menus to local tastes. In addition to the standard burgers and fries, the Beijing outlets serve taro pies and soy milk with fried bread. Many restaurants have become neighborhood institutions, symbols of status and cleanliness, popular spots for study groups, business meetings and leisurely chats.

     “McDonald’s welcomes everyone to visit our restaurants anytime,” said Regina Hui, a spokeswoman for McDonald’s in China.

     How welcoming is up to each franchise owner, the company says. “We are definitely a welcoming place, but I wouldn’t call it a policy,” Becca Harry, a spokeswoman at the company’s headquarters in Oak Brook, III, wrote in an email.

     Tension over when that welcome is overstayed has long been an issue for McDonald’s around the world. In 2014, a McDonald’s in New York City called the police to remove a group of older Korean patrons who had turned the restaurant into a social club, spending more time than money. And a McDonald’s in Manchester, England, came under fire last year for refusing to serve a customer who wore dirty clothing thinking he was homeless.

     In Hong Kong, Stevix Ho, a McDonald’s manager, said he had to contend with a crowd of heroin addicts and people who appeared to have severe mental illness.

     “We can’t kick them out,” he said. “We can only ask them to go away.”

     Many homeless people say they have little choice, given a dearth of shelter options and the stigma of sleeping on the street. In mainland China, the government allows homeless people to stay in shelters for a maximum of 10 days. (a limit that has led many of them to sleep at McDonald’s.)

     Yip Hin-ming, 57, arrived in Hong Kong four decades ago, drawn by stories of neon lights and clanking factories. In April, after two decades of working as a painter, he had to quit when the pain of a job-related arm injury became overwhelming. “That was the end,” he said. “I was no longer capable.”

     He packed a bag with a toothbrush and toilet paper, and found a quiet spot under paintings of onions and tomatoes in a McDonald’s in the Kowloon section of Hong Kong.

     One day, he said he was startled to learn that a homeless woman at a McDonald’s across town had died. She had sat hunched over a table for 24 hours, covered by a gray overcoat, before anyone noticed.

     “Nobody knows who we are when we’re living, and nobody cares about us when we die,” Mr. Yip said. “We’re invisible.”

     Chan Wai-kwan, 63, a former janitor who had been living at McDonald’s from 6 p.m. to 6 a.m. every day for three years, said Hong Kong had lost its sense of humanity.

     “You’ll tell my family if anything happens to me, right?” he said, turning to Mr. Yip. “You’ll make sure they know if I die?”

     Mr. Yip nodded but looked despondent.

     “My family doesn’t know about my life here, and I wouldn’t want to tell them,” he said. “It’s too miserable.”

     In addition to the daily quest for food and the requisite but demeaning panhandling, the nighttime residents of McDonald’s struggle with perceptions that they are lazy and dishonest.

     Restaurant staff members sometimes frown at their behavior.

     “They can find jobs. They’re just too lazy to look,” said a Beijing McDonald’s employee, Mrs. Chen, who asked to be identified only by her family name because she was not authorized to speak to the news media. “They’re driving away customers because they smell so bad.”

     Zhang Wei, 56, a vegetable seller who had lost her teeth, said she longed for a normal life but was ostracized by her family.

     “How nice it would be to be able to cook and eat at your own home,” she said. “You could have your own dumplings and buns and sleep in your own bed. If you don’t have money, you can barely sleep.”

     Mr. Ding had a reputation at McDonald’s as a gadfly. He had a habit of offering loud, indelicate social commentary, telling government workers they were corrupt and men in suits they were greedy.

     He does work, however. Most days, he leaves McDonald’s around 8 a.m. to comb trash cans and bins in back alleys for scraps of copper and steel, which he sells to a friend for 80 cents apiece. He returns by suppertime, waiting for customers to abandon leftover fries and smoothies.

     “This is my work, this is my way of living,” he said. “I have no way out.”

     He joked about selling his eyeballs, or moving to America, where he heard they treat the homeless better. And he continued to study the lottery, jotting down long strings of numbers. He calculated his odds at 1 in 10 million.

     No matter, he said.

     “I came into the world naked, and I leave naked,” he said. “ There’s nothing I can take with me when I die.”