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theasstour · 4 years

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𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟏𝟎.𝟒𝐊 𝐍𝐁: 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞

A/N: IT’S FINALLY HERE 🐚🌊✨ Lightkeeper!Harry is here and I’m BEYOND excited to show you lot this concept I’ve been thinking about quite literally everyday for MONTHS now! I love this story with my entire heart, and I really hope it resonates with some of you and that you fall completely in love with lightkeeper!harry and ST like I have 🥺 Love you! Enjoy! x

Thursday, 11 June

The universe would always balance itself out, Y/N McKay was aware of this. She was aware that if she had faith and believed everything happens for a reason, it would make the tough times of her life easier to mentally handle. If she did good, the universe would work to give it back to her in some other form. However, that didn’t mean that when something dreadful did happen it wouldn’t affect her, and she wouldn’t feel hopeless. Because she did. Very much so.

Most of her life she had lived in a constant state of harmony. She was neither displeased nor satisfied with the life she was leading because it kept her out of trouble; it kept her safe. Her entire life she had lived in peace in Winchester, a fairly prissy town in the middle of Hampshire county in England. Her father owned a business of sorts, Y/N had never gotten the details of it or how he’d gotten where he was, but all she knew was he inherited it from his father and it was expected to be handed down generation after generation in the McKay family. However, Y/N was an only child and neither her mum nor her dad thought she’d be fit to run the business when the time came.

“Nothing personal, darling,” her mother had said when it was brought up during a dinner when Y/N was still in sixth form. “You just don’t have the brains for it.”

“What your mother means to say,” Y/N’s father went on. “You’re so intelligent in your own way, running the business won’t make you happy.”

They always called it that. The business. They never told her what it was about or explained when she asked questions about it. Not that she expected her dad to be a drug lord, but it would’ve been nice to be let in on something. It would’ve been nice to be given the opportunity to feel of enough importance to someone to know special things.

Y/N looked out the window of the train, the Cornish coast stretching out as far as the eye could see, the sun not yet hanging high enough on the sky to make it dreadful to walk outside in her black oversized smock dress. The book in her lap was still open, though she’d read the same page over and over and over again, not being able to concentrate for long enough to remember what happened at the top of the piece of paper. Everything was fuzzy and she had too much to think about; too much to consider.

The last 24 hours had been the worst of her life. Yesterday had turned everything upside down and she hated it. However, thinking the universe would balance itself out and work in her favour, she was also aware that the reason her life needed help to be smoothed out by higher powers in the first place, was because it was in imbalance. Something was off. Something had thrown it off. But she forced herself to stay hopeful, knowing that if she lost that little flicker of hope in what seemed like an endless night, it’d be next to impossible to find her way back to peacefulness.

She glanced down at the book in her lap and was about to start reading again, not liking it when she had to put the book away in the middle of a chapter. She wasn’t given the opportunity as the overhead speakers sounded their soft alarm, and next second, a woman was speaking.

“Next stop is St Ives. Doors will open on the right-hand side.”

The nerves Y/N had felt in the pit of her stomach came back again, this time with more intensity than the last few. Though she realised what she was doing that morning when she boarded her train for Reading, and then again when she stepped on the train for St Erth, and yet again when she sat down on the train towards St Ives, this time it felt worse than all those times before. This was it. She was here.

She had no idea why she chose St Ives out of all places in Cornwall – in the world even –, why here of all places? Even years later, she could never seem to remember the exact moment when she chose that coastal town, or why it had appealed to her at all. Maybe it was the fact that it had a beach, or that it wasn’t particularly populated, or that there was no way anyone she had ever known would be there. The most important part however, and maybe the only reason why she chose St Ives, was because it was far away from Winchester. It was far away from her family, from her ex, and everything she associated with that town and everyone living in it.

She put The Well of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall away in her purse, slinging her purse over her head to rest across her chest before she reached up and took her old leather bag down from the overhead compartment. This was the only one she would risk bringing as it used to be her father’s back in the day, but he never used it anymore and wouldn’t suspect it being gone. Placing the strap on her shoulder, she walked off to the closest door, apologising when she jabbed someone with her bag on the way out.

Stepping off, Y/N instantly regretted wearing a long-sleeved dress. Though she was under the protection of the roof above the platform, the heat was still almost insufferable. It got her wondering if this was just a normal day in the very South of England or if it was an exceptionally hot one. She prayed for the latter.

She walked out of the station, staying in the cool shade for a few minutes longer as she typed in the address of the inn she was staying at. Not really knowing how public transit worked here yet, she didn’t want to risk taking the wrong bus or asking a tourist for directions to a place they’d never heard of. Instead, she put her EarPods in and went on her merry way. The second she stepped out into the sun, she was once again reminded of why she’d never wear that black dress again that summer.

The Roaming Crab Inn was on The Terrace, the road along the coast of St Ives, holding dozens of hotels and other places to stay during a visit. Y/N didn’t know why she’d chosen this exact inn, or how she’d even happened upon it. It might’ve had something to do with the picture of the old lady grinning from ear to ear on the inn’s website. A picture that was so lovely and so warm that, in the midst of everything Y/N was going through right then, it made her tear up.

She stepped into the inn, placing her sunglasses on the top of her head, and made sure her hair looked alright before walking a bit further inside. Cherry wooden panels lined the floors, walls, and ceiling, a reception desk in the same style attached to the wall to the right. Pictures of all kinds of people hung on the walls. Y/N suspected it might be locals as well as dear guests who had come and gone over the years. No lights were on as the sharp afternoon sun was sufficient in keeping the lobby just bright enough o that electricity wasn’t needed. Fake green vines hung along the ceiling and walls, as well as from different pots on the fireplace to the right that didn’t seem to be in use. Still, two old recliners stood beside it, tempting to sit down and drown in, to escape a turbulent life.

To the left was a staircase leading up to the other landings, and though Y/N hadn’t stepped foot on it yet, she already knew it creaked. This entire house seemed more like a cottage you’d find in the middle of the country, not on the coast of South England. She slowly started making her way over to the reception, and that was when she noticed the back door. Behind the desk was an old, white windowed door, a little smaller in height but a little wider in breadth than normal doors – like the entrance. It was open, leading the way out into a back garden that seemed to be both small and surrounded by the neighbouring houses on all sides. The wooden fence was covered in vines, flowers of all kinds poking out amongst them and on the ground around. The stone paved patio seemed to be old and uneven, there was a set of bistro metal chairs in all the colours of the rainbow along with a white table to match them.

A gang of old ladies sat around the table, chattering amongst themselves and occasionally laughing, all holding a different knitting project each. Y/N hated the thought of disturbing them, but she also just wanted to check in and go up to her room; maybe even go for a walk to take a look around the place she’d be in for the next few weeks.

She reached for the bell, hitting it lightly as to not make it sound urgent and intrusive. A small yelp was heard from the back garden and then the sound of the metal chair scraping against the stone patio. As she heard the footsteps get closer, Y/N glanced around, taking in the interior of the inn undisturbed one more. As someone appeared in the doorway and their eyes met, the old lady who stood there gave Y/N that warm smile of hers she’d seen online the night before.

“Hello, dear!” she chirped, placing her glasses on the bridge of her nose and walking over to the computer on her side of the desk. “How are you?”

“I’m good, thank you. And yourself?”

The old lady smiled, her eyes almost disappearing behind her high cheekbones. Her long white hair was fastened in a bun at the back of her head, the rest of her dressed in a pair of white trousers and a tunic with some bird print on it.

“I’m wonderful. What’s your name then, lovely?”

“Y/N McKay.”

“Ahh,” she said. “You’re the one who booked your stay last night.”

“That’s me, yeah,” Y/N chuckled, brushing some hair behind her ear.

“Till August 10th.”

“Yes.”

“Right then, Y/N,” the lady said, taking a key hanging from the wall beside her and taking her glasses off, smiling the entire time. “Let me show you to your room.”

The two walked up to the second floor, taking a right as they arrived and the inn-keeper unlocked the door. The innkeeper kept the door open for Y/N, letting her walk in first. Though the floor and ceiling were similar to the wooden panels of the lobby, the walls were white. Against the same wall that the door came to rest against stood an old blue dresser, and a fake flower in an elegant vase that seemed to be just one of the many flowers in the room. The double bed stood to the far left wall, white sheets covering it and looking so lush that it took everything in Y/N not to sprint over and throw herself onto it. There was a desk as well as a recliner, and a window on the opposite wall overlooking the ocean that was just about a minute’s walk from here.

“The bathroom is over there,” the innkeeper said, pointing at a door beside the staircase. “You share it with the other guests on the same floor as you, alright?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” Y/N admitted, genuinely meaning it as well. She didn’t see the problem with that in the least.

“I’m mostly downstairs or in the next house over, which is mine,” she continued. “So if there’s ever anything you think I could help you with, do pop by.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, my goodness,” she suddenly exclaimed, walking over to Y/N. “I’ve completely forgotten to introduce myself. I’m Bessie.” Bessie smiled at Y/N again, making the latter almost want to cry for the umpteenth time that day. “And I really hope you enjoy your stay here in St Ives.”

With that, the innkeeper left Y/N to herself. Y/N let her bag and purse fall to the floor before she dragged the chair by the desk over to the window. She opened it and just stared out across the beach and sea outside. Seagulls were howling overhead, waves were crashing against shore, and the familiar salty scent of the presence of the ocean lingered in the air constantly. It was like one of those trips she’d taken with her parents every summer, a new place every year, always by the coast. Her favourite might’ve been their vacation in Bali. It was gorgeous beyond comprehension, in a way no other place she’d ever been could come close to. But she was aware she’d never go on another trip with her parents again. Not after everything that happened the night before.

Now she couldn’t rely on them any longer. She was on her own. She had no idea what she was going to do, no idea what lay ahead of her. As she at on the chair looking out over St Ives, the town she’d spend her summer in, she realised she’d never felt more forlorn.

St Ives is a coastal town located in the very south-west of the southernmost county in England, Cornwall. It is known for its surf beaches – most well-known being Porthmeor – and its many art galleries and restaurants. Tate St Ives is a gallery at the seafront and has rotating modern art exhibitions, focusing primarily on British artists. The Barbara Hepworth Museum and Sculpture Garden is located in the modernist artist’s former studio, displaying her bronzes and other works.Y/N, having grown up in a fairly posh family with exquisite and particular taste, knew a thing or two about art.

She always had her purse on her, and in it she’d keep all the essentials for going out and about. Hand sanitiser, Kleenex, band-aids, pads, keys, a portable charger, and the book she was currently reading. The Well of Loneliness lay in her purse as she strolled around, a St Ives guide book in her hand that she’d bought at one of the local stores on what must’ve been their high street.

First and foremost, she wanted to do some sightseeing. She’d be here for a long time, so she might as well get acquainted with the town she’d stay in and learn its ins and outs. There is this part of St Ives called The Island, that isn’t at all an island, but it is just called that. The Island is the imposing headland that juts out into the seat from the spit of land that separates the harbour and Porthmeor beach – the most popular and most central beach in the town. In ancient times it was a promontory fort, but these days it’s probably better known as a location of the tiny chapel of St Nicholas. Walking to The Island, Y/N took in the incredible views of the ocean surrounding her, and the beach – The Townas - beside her that was cramped between The Island and Godrevy Point on the other side.

To her left was what looked to be Hellesveor Cliff, and at the very point of it, on the top of what must’ve been the most haunting cliff Y/N had ever seen, stood a lighthouse. Looking in her guide book, it didn’t say much about the lighthouse except the care of it had been passed down generation after generation by the family currently living there. It was at the very edge of St Ives, farther out than Godrevy Point. It made it so Porthmeor, St Ives, and The Townas were all guarded by these two points, the St Ives Lighthouse watching over its town and the far coast around.

Continuing on her walk, she strolled down the Down-a-long, which is the old, lower part of St Ives built on the narrow ridge of land that separated The Island to the rest of the town. This part of town is the archetypal image of St Ives with its jumble of cobble streets lined with whitewashed, old cottages, some seeming to fall apart and others in better condition. Y/N thought the street names were equally evocative and unique, some of her favourites being Salubrious Place, Teetotal Street, and The Digney. Though it said in her catalogue that fishermen used to live in the Down-a-long before, next to none lived there now as most of it was occupied by galleries, cafes, and little shows that one can shake a stick at. As she strolled through Fore Street, the main shopping street in St Ives, she walked by a vintage shop – Vintage Divine – and jotted it down on her phone.

All her life, Y/N had always loved everything vintage. She liked the thought of owning something that had once been part of someone else’s life, that had made them happy enough they wanted to hand it on and give someone else that same happiness they’d experienced. Though neither her mum, her dad, or her ex-boyfriend liked her obsession with vintage and stuff owned by others before her, their disinterest had never stopped her from going to markets or stores. However, she never bought anything unless she knew she could hide it. Now, she thought, that didn’t have to be a problem.

A few years back when she started to realise her obsession with old stuff, furniture, clothing, and books owned by others before her, she read an article online. The article had suggested that people are attracted to vintage pieces because they offer an escape. Wearing these garments, holding these ornaments, touching furniture from another time is a way to experience a different life. A life that isn’t your own and that was lived before hers or parallel to hers. Shopping vintage then created an exciting search for something special and creative, something a normal shopping trip could never give her. It was weird how much she was looking forward to going through that shop, Y/N realised, but she couldn’t wait to explore and take items home with her. Not that she expected she’d be welcomed home to Winchester anytime soon, but she chose not to think about that too much.

Fore Street was a narrow and cobblestone-clad street with people milling about trying to find a decent place for lunch. Stone cottages lined both sides of the street, either a neutral colour like white, a dull yellow, beige, light blue, or just plain, grey stone. Y/N enjoyed walking among these houses. It was a quiet town, peace seemed to be permanently settled between the cramped streets and tiny houses. Though Winchester wasn’t London with its tall buildings and never-ending bustle, St Ives was even smaller than her hometown, which made it that much more appealing to her. There was a sense of relaxation in the mere atmosphere around her that massaged the tension out of her shoulders and straightened her hunched back.

The door to the Seafood Café she was about to walk by burst open. A couple of people standing around jumped at the commotion, as did Y/N. Dressed in high-waisted loose fitted denim jeans, a white tee shirt tucked into them, a pair of orange worn down Vans, and brown curls in a dishevelled mess, the man who caused the ruckus didn’t seem to notice everyone’s attention being on him. He halted a bit as he came outside before he walked left. Y/N stopped moving, the sudden interruption in her peaceful stroll taking her off guard. The man suddenly started straight for Y/N, his head bent, eyes on the cobblestone before him. He didn’t seem to notice where he was going, not looking up in the direction he was heading. So, when he saw Y/N’s shadow, that’s when he glanced up. Their eyes met just a second before he managed to stop, preventing them from crashing into one another.

“Oh!” he erupted, voice crescendoing. He blinked twice, eyes settling on her for a few seconds before he said a quick, “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, I should’ve moved out of the way,” Y/N assured him, about to step to the side when she noticed his lips moving again. No words came out, though. She stood there for a few seconds, just watching his jaw and lips work, not seeming to find his words.

“Have a good day,” she went on, trying to step out of the way when the man blurted out, “Please, miss.”

She looked at him again, about to narrow her eyes when she saw a troubled expression on his face. His eyes were a little wide and he glanced over his shoulder before meeting her eyes again. The door to Seafood Café opened again, a woman and a younger girl stepping out.

“Please,” he repeated, voice low. “Go along.”

Y/N frowned. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll owe you my entire life if you just play along for a minute or two, yeah?”

She cocked her head some to the side. “I don’t know what you mean, sir. I should-“

“-I don’t usually do this- I mean, I never do, I’ve never done this before – ever -, but-but they think I have a girlfriend and I don’t. Please-“

“-Harry!”

The man – who Y/N could only assume to be Harry - turned around to face a tiny Filipina woman and an even smaller girl beside her, who looked to be no older than ten. The two looked Y/N over, eyes scanning her from head to toe. Y/N felt like she was under a magnifying glass.

But while they took her in, Y/N’s thoughts wandered to the words the man beside her had said only a few seconds earlier. “They think I have a girlfriend and I don’t.” Was he… was he saying what Y/N thought he was saying? She glanced at him, seeing him draw a shaky breath and meet her eyes, waiting for her to make the next move it seemed. Everything that had happened in the last minute confused her. She didn’t know this man, didn’t know what he’d told these two women or why. She was also well aware that by just walking away she wouldn’t need to worry about him any longer; his problems weren’t hers. This seemed messy, confusing, and a little risky.

Usually, she wouldn’t want any part of it. The Y/N she was yesterday wouldn’t have considered this. She would’ve looked at the man apologetically before excusing herself and walking off, leaving him to figure out whatever lie he’d told these two on his own. But Y/N had changed. Or… at least that’s what she wanted to believe… Fine, she wanted to change, and maybe this was a place to start.

Harry sighed, turning around to face the two he had tried to get away from, shoulders sinking as he met their eyes. The defeat was evident in his body language; he was about to give up and just tell them that he didn’t have a girlfriend. That’s what finally did it, seeing how it took absolutely everything out of him to tell them the following. “Jasmine, I’m sorry, I need to tell you-“

“-It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Y/N interrupted him, smiling as she stepped out from behind Harry. Though she had seriously considered helping him, it still surprised her when she actually heard the words coming out of her mouth. Her heart was beating about as fast as it had that morning when she’d left Hampshire.

Harry looked at her, mouth falling open, obviously shocked by her willingness to help him. It took him a few seconds to gather himself, but once he did, he looked back at the two they were trying to convince with a bright smile on his face.

“What did you have to tell me, Harry?” the older woman asked.

“That, uhh…” He looked at Y/N again before glancing at who she could only assume to be Jasmine. “Jessa, this is my girlfriend.”

Jasmine raised her eyebrows, eyes lighting up suddenly. The girl beside her stood there fidgeting with the hem of her top, looking Y/N up and down still.

“Hi,” Y/N said, stepping forward and reaching her hand out for Jasmine. “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N,” Jasmine said, a smile coming to rest on her round face as they let go of the others’ hand. “Harry, you said her name was unusual.”

“That… I-“ Harry stopped himself.

Y/N’s lips parted, unsure how to react to that.

“That’s why you didn’t want to tell us her name, since it was so unusual. Y/N isn’t unusual.”

Y/N chuckled a little, looking at Harry whose whole face was a shade of red she’d never seen before. He glanced around him, meeting her gaze before quickly looking to the ground, scratching at his neck.

“You thought my name was weird?” She was well aware Harry hadn’t known her name until that point, let alone had any time to form an opinion on it. But regardless, she found it funny how he’d refused to give them his pretend girlfriend’s name by telling them it was an unusual one, as if they’d laugh at it.

“I didn’t-“ Harry sighed. “It wasn’t like I was embarrassed I just…” He trailed off, motioning with his hands, but Y/N had no idea what that meant. She didn’t take it to heart, though, knowing it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with his cover-up story.

“He has such a way with words,” Jasmine said, clicking her tongue at him. “Anyway, I’m Jasmine, but just call me Jessa. Harry’s stepmother.”

“And I’m Grace.” The little one stepped forward, grinning from ear to ear. The small one had the same roundness to her face as the woman beside her, as well as the same flat nose and almond shaped eyes like Jessa’s. “Harry’s kept you a secret.”

“Gracie, I haven’t kept her a secret as much as I’ve kept her away,” Harry said. “You’re gonna scare her.”

“We won’t scare her!” Jessa exclaimed. “It’s your girlfriend, Harry! We will be nice.”

“Somehow doubt that.” Harry turned to Y/N, turning his back to his step mum and what must be his half-sister. “They like to interrogate, especially Jasmine.”

“You villainise us,” Jessa said, walking closer to them and taking Y/N’s hand between hers. It took her off guard and she almost pulled her hand away, the feel of someone’s skin voluntarily touching hers felt weird.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Harry continued, ignoring Jessa. There was an apology in his eyes that he didn’t voice. Or at least that’s what Y/N thought she saw anyway. “They’ll make it hard to enjoy yourself.”

Jessa reached over and pinched Harry’s exposed forearm. He flinched away from her, glaring as he stepped back a few paces.

“Now you’re being rude.”

“I don’t want you lot to make her uncomfortable with all your questions,” Harry said, a frown etched in his forehead. He hadn’t met Y/N’s eyes directly ever since they almost walked into one another. “Besides, she’s…” Harry’s eyes fell to the guide in Y/N’s hand. “She’s sightseeing.”

Y/N smiled at Jessa and Grace, showing them the small book she was carrying with her. “I’ve just been to the Island. The view from there is fantastic.”

“Harry, the view from the Island is nothing. Have you shown her yet?”

“Jessa, it’s… she’s just…”

Finally, he looked at her, not knowing what to say that would make his stepmother give it a rest. Y/N could understand why she asked so many questions, she was just eager to get to know someone who she thought was Harry’s new partner.

“I arrived this morning,” Y/N answered, smiling at Jasmine. “We haven’t had the time to meet up properly, so in the meantime I’ve just been walking around.”

“Where’s your luggage?”

“At the Inn. The Roaming Crab.”

Jessa’s eyes went wide, looking at Harry disapprovingly again. “She’s not even staying with you? What kind of boyfriend are you?”

“She could stay at our house,” Grace said, eyes on the space that separated Y/N and Harry before she met Y/N’s eyes.

“It’s not that… It’s not like that, I-“ Harry stopped himself, dragging his hand over his face that had been bright red ever since this whole spectacle started. “You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“Am I?” Jessa crossed her arms.

“Yes… I-“ Harry stuttered and though Y/N hadn’t known this man for very long, she could tell he found it hard to find his words in stressful situations.

“We didn’t want to overwhelm each other. We haven’t stayed together for a long period of time before, this would be the first, so I’m staying at the Inn so we won’t get tired of each other too quickly.” Y/N hoped she sounded confident and truthful; she wouldn’t want to blow this for Harry already. After all, she had no idea how long he’d need this pretend girlfriend lie for.

A frown appeared between Jasmine’s brows and it dawned on Y/N that she must’ve said something wrong just now. Panic rose to her chest, but Harry cleared his throat.

“Except for that trip to Exeter last month, but that was only a single weekend. Now she’s here for…” He narrowed his eyes, as if the answer was at the tip of his tongue but Y/N knew she was the only one with an answer to that.

“August 12th,” she said, Jessa letting go of a small squeal at the sound of it. “Dunno how many weeks that’ll be, but I’m-“

“-That’s fantastic! You need to come to Gracie’s birthday next weekend.”

Harry stuttered a little, Jessa’s enthusiasm making him nervous, Y/N thought. “Nanay-“

“-She’s going to love that, won’t you, Gracie?”

Grace nodded her head, grinning up at Y/N. “You can put pretty stuff on my eyelids.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows some and Jessa laughed. “Eyeshadow.”

“Oh! Well, I don’t have loads of that since I’m no good with make-up, but I do have nice jewellery.” Y/N picked at the one she was wearing just then, a gold necklace she’d gotten for her birthday the year before.

Grace’s smile didn’t fade one bit at that. In fact, it only seemed to get a little bigger at the sight of Y/N’s pretty necklace. The girl didn’t say anything, but she swayed from side to side, looking excitedly up at her brother’s supposed new girlfriend.

“You’re coming then?” Jessa asked, looking so happy she might burst, and it hurt Y/N that she probably wouldn’t.

“Jessa, we have barely had time to catch up, let her breathe,” Harry pleaded and Jessa waved her hands at them.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you, Y/N. It’s just…” Jasmine’s eyes fell on Harry standing beside Y/N, her eyes glistening. “It’s just so nice to know Harry’s not alone anymore.”

“I’ve never been alone, nanay.”

Jessa shook her head, sighing heavily. “Alright, we’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. You’ll probably want some time to yourselves to just walk around. Has she been to the lighthouse, Harry? Take her there.”

Harry sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. “Nay-“

“-Fine, we’ll leave. It was so nice to finally meet you, Y/N.”

“You too, Jessa. And you, Grace.”

Grace gave a wave before Jessa took her hand and the two walked away, probably on their way home or whatever other plans they had. Y/N watched them for a few before turning to Harry. His blush had calmed down a little, but a bead of sweat had appeared at his cupid’s bow. If it was because of nerves or the weather, she did not know, but she was not about to ask him that.

Upon closer inspection and now that they didn’t have Harry’s stepmum and sister watching over them, Y/N could finally study the man she rescued for a total of five minutes. Green eyes that reminded her of the moors she’d spend time running through each summer, a slight stubble along his soft jawline, nose a little too big for his face, and a slight dimple in each cheek even though he wasn’t smiling fully yet. She wondered what they’d look like if he actually grinned.

“Hi,” she said, reaching her hand out. “Y/N.”

Harry chuckled softly, taking her hand, eyes staying on the place they were touching each other. “Harry.”

“I’m glad I could be of some help, Harry.”

A crooked smile reached his lips as his eyes fell to the ground and he stepped away, letting his hand fall to hit his thigh. He glanced up at her. “Thank you for that. They say they’re worried, but they’re really just nosey.”

Y/N grimaced a little, making a breathy laugh escape Harry’s lips. “Is your life more interesting than theirs?”

“Not in the least. I lead the most boring existence in the most boring town in the United Kingdom.”

She chuckled, reaching for her necklace. “Not sure you can claim that title, my life’s pretty up there as well.”

Harry tried to shove his hands into the pockets of his jeans, but the arms of his denim jacket wrapped around his waist were in the way. “Oh?”

“Blimey, I won’t keep you if you’ve got things to do. You look like a busy man.”

Harry stared at the watch on his wrist and bit his bottom lip, looking up at her through his thick set of dark eyelashes. “Yeah, I gotta be on my way actually.”

She gave him a smile, getting one in return.

“Listen, thank you so much for that. I just needed to get them off my back. You don’t actually have to come to Gracie’s birthday party, Jessa just loves when she gets to interrogate people. Her favourite sport is discussing gossip.”

Y/N laughed. “You burn a lot of calories doing that.”

Harry chuckled, scratching at his neck as his eyes fell to her neck and then shoulder. “Anyway, I don’t know how to repay you. If you’re here till August, I guess I’ll see you around.”

For some reason, Harry not really knowing what to say was funny to Y/N. It wasn’t like he owed her anything or the other way around. She’d just helped him out and now they could part ways. Easy as that.

“You don’t have to repay me, I’m glad I could help,” she smiled. “I’ll try and stay out of your way if I see you out and about. You know, to avoid the awkward conversation of telling them we’re not actually together.”

Harry’s lips tipped upward. “Right, thanks.”

“Now, since I’m talking to you,” she said, opening the catalogue again. “Where’s the Tate Gallery?”

Harry turned around, pointing up Fore Street from where they stood. “When you reach Bunkers Hill, you follow that all the way up to Back Road, then you just walk along The Digney and it’ll be on your right-hand side.”

“Thank you so much.”

“No, thank you. I… It was too much-“

“-I’m serious when I say I’m glad I could help, don’t worry about it.” She shot him one last smile before giving him a wave. “Bye, Harry.”

“Bye,” he said, giving her a short nod before she focused her attention back on her surroundings. She needed to catch the street names and get her walk to the Tate on the first try because she could really not be asked to walk back and whip her phone out. After all, Harry just helped her so it was going to be easy to just follow his navigation and get there.

As she strolled along the gallery and the rest of St Ives that day, she couldn’t help but think about that little encounter earlier. She wondered what happened after that, if Jessa and Grace demanded more information from Harry or if he told them how it was all a lie. Putting it all aside, she focused on her trip instead. She’d never meet that family again, but she really hoped everything worked out for them regardless. The last thing she needed was for this summer to be about anything but her and what she really wanted in life. She didn’t need distractions. Her whole life up until now had been a distraction.

Friday, 12 June

Being in south England and not taking advantage of the amazing beaches this part of the country offered, was maybe on the same wrongdoing scale as committing a serious crime. Y/N had gotten dressed that morning and headed straight downstairs to eat breakfast in the tiny dining hall of the Inn. It was positioned in what must’ve originally been the living room in the house, four tables placed in there with two chairs placed by each of them. The dining room had the same layout as the entrance to the Inn; wooden panels all over, flowers and plants everywhere along with pictures and candles to top it off.

When she walked downstairs, Bessie was quick to jump up from where she was sitting in her small back garden, meeting Y/N with a warm beam on her face. When Bessie asked Y/N if she’d like a meat, vegetarian, or vegan full English, Y/N startled herself by replying vegetarian. She hadn’t grown up vegetarian, but in all her life, she’d never had a purely vegetarian meal. So, instead of correcting herself, she let Bessie make her that vegetarian breakfast. The thought of eating something she hadn’t before didn’t make her anxious as she thought it would’ve, but she was rather excited about the whole thing.

Bessie came out with the tray, setting it down before Y/N and asked her if she would mind Bessie’s company. With a quick reply encouraging the old lady to sit down, Bessie ran – or walked as fast as her short legs could take her – outside and returned with her knitting. Y/N had been alone pretty much all day the day before nd she had anticipated being alone all day today as well, so she rather enjoyed Bessie’s company. She had never really envisioned this to be part of her trip to Cornwall – an old lady with her grey hair put neatly in a bun with two knitting needles holding it up, wearing a long bohemian dress and glasses perched on the end of her nose, talking her ear off and Y/N having an immense amount of fun in the process.

The sea and seagulls sounded from inside the Inn, but as Y/N put her bathing suit and summer dress on, on her way down towards the beach, the costal sounds only intensified. The salt in the air clung to her skin and the smell of seaweed got more prominent the closer she got to the ocean. She put her stuff down and brought The Well of Loneliness out again, wanting to finish the book that day because she really wanted to know how it all ended. She wasn’t sure how much time went by as she laid there, completely captivated by the world Radclyffe Hall had created within the book.

It wasn’t that Y/N particularly enjoyed the book. No, it wasn’t that. It was endlessly long and detailed, for absolutely no purpose. The writing wasn’t particularly memorable; one wouldn’t remember it for its evocative and imaginative characteristics, nor for Hall’s ability to tell instead of show. Over the years she’d studied English in college, Y/N knew that a writer should be able to balance those two out; show some, tell some. But that concept was lost on Hall. No, Y/N didn’t like The Well of Loneliness for its writing, not even the plot.

She liked the book because of the plea embedded in it. The plea for LGBT people to be treated as human; that they were normal and not a disease. Why did they have to be other? They didn’t choose this life so why were they to be punished for it by being treated differently? By being illegal? The Well of Loneliness was published around the same time Orlando by Virginia Woolf, who was one of Y/N’s favourite authors ever. Though these two books touched on similar themes of identity, where Orlando shrouded the issue of mysticism, The Well dared to discuss sexual identity openly. Y/N commended Radclyffe Hall for that.

However much Y/N sympathised with Hall and the main character, Stephen, she couldn’t help but laugh at the hypocrisy in the book. While it attempted to strive for acceptance of one minority, it also emanated an underlying attitude of snobbishness and chauvinism towards other minorities at the same time, which made no sense to Y/N. Then again, it was the 1920s, so she guessed she couldn’t really ask for anything else from a rich white person at the time.

Having finally finished the book, Y/N asked someone nearby if they could watch her things while she took a dip. There was a blonde bloke around her age and another bloke with blue hair, sitting not too far off, and when she asked if they could keep an eye on her stuff, they promised they would.

Y/N took her time swimming, trying to remember the last time she’d been on a beach where the public were allowed. It was odd seeing so many around her, but she liked it. She liked the sound of others around her. Silence was good, but in the disturbance of human noise was the reassurance of rescue. The promise that you might be lonely, but you are never alone.

Walking back up to her picnic blanket, Y/N thanked the two men before lying back down, soaking up the sun. She hadn’t been aware she’d already been at the beach for a few hours until she realised her stomach was rumbling. So, packing her stuff together and making sure her hair was somewhat dry, she walked around to see if there were any places she could sit down. The only place on Porthminster Beach was the café with the same name, and by the looks of it, it was completely full. Since Bessie had served Y/N some breakfast, she must have something for lunch as well.

Walking back the 5 minute to the hotel, Bessie jumped up from her place in the back garden, sitting back there with two other ladies and knitting like they’d done the day before.

“Hello, dear, you had a good trip to the beach?”

Y/N couldn’t help but feel completely at ease in this old woman’s company. “Yes, I did. A bit hungry, though, do you have something I could eat, possibly?”

“Of course! What do you fancy?”

“Oh, a toastie’s fine.”

“Vegetarian?”

For some reason, the fact Bessie remembered Y/N’s preference from this morning made her smile. “Yes,” she said without thinking.

“Right, just sit down and I’ll come by with your lunch, my lovely.”

“Thank you so much, Bessie.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Y/N sat down, bringing her phone out as she hadn’t checked it properly in a few hours. She wasn’t sure what she expected, to be fair. There was no one from home who would want to contact her, and if they were to, they would rather look around Winchester than call. In their minds, she couldn’t have run far. Regardless, the mere fact they hadn’t even called her made something inside her sink a little. It felt awful knowing how little she meant to them all along. So little that they wouldn’t even pick up the phone and save her a call or a text.

“Here, my dear,” Bessie said, putting down a tray before Y/N. “I’m gonna pop outside to my little knitting club, if that’s fine by you. Just come on out if you don’t have anything else to do after this, yeah?”

“Thank you so much,” Y/N said and Bessie smiled at her before she disappeared outside again.

Turning her attention to her food, Y/N started thinking about what she could do the rest of the day. She could walk some more around town, she’d seen bigger parts of it yesterday, but there were always corners of a town that needed discovering. Once she was about halfway through her toastie, hasty footsteps sounded from the lobby and a somewhat familiar figure appeared. He stopped a bit on his way towards the reception desk, as if he didn’t want to be a bother to Bessie of some kind by asking for assistance. Bessie appeared a few seconds later, grinning from ear to ear as usual.

“Hello, Harry love.”

“Hi, Bess. I…” he stopped himself, running his hands up and down the sides of his white and grey striped cotton-blend trousers, a navy blue tee shirt tucked into it and a pair of white Vans on his feet. “I just wanted to come check again.”

“For the third time.”

“Yeah, well…” He did a quick shrug. “I just wanted to check.”

“She’s here.” Bessie gestured to Harry’s right and when he looked that way, his eyes immediately found Y/N’s. She didn’t think she’d ever see him again. However, a summer in a small coastal town would make that very hard. She’d try her hardest to stay out of Harry’s way, as well as his family’s, so she wouldn’t make things awkward. She would have escaped to a town a little further south or on the other side of Cornwall, but she was settled in now and she’d already paid for her whole stay.

Though she’d promised to keep away from him to prevent any unpleasant situations, Harry hadn’t made her the same promise. And here he was. For some reason. He seemed both taken off guard to see her sitting there as well as relieved he’d finally caught her. A sigh left him, slumping his tense shoulders a little before he thanked Bessie quickly and walked to Y/N.

“Is it,” he started as he made his way over. “Is it okay if I sit down?”

Y/N nodded her head while swallowing, gesturing with her hand at the chair opposite hers. “Yes, go ahead,” she said when her mouth was free to.

“Cheers.” Harry sat down, slid a little closer to the table and rested his hands between his legs as he leaned back against the back of the chair.

The two fell into silence for a little while, Y/N watching as Harry’s eyes fixed on the small bouquet of flowers in the tiny vase placed in the middle of the round table. Yes, she loved company, but Harry’s had taken her a little by surprise and she was eager to know why he’d come looking for her. She didn’t want to try and draw a conclusion herself without hearing his reasoning first, knowing that whatever she came up with wouldn’t be correct anyway. Instead, she put her toastie back on her plate and focused her attention on Harry, who had yet to say anything. From the way he was biting the inside of his lip, she assumed he was mulling over the right thing to say. It didn’t seem to ever come when finally, he opened his mouth.

“First, I just want to say sorry for yesterday,” he said, meeting her eyes, but quickly looking to her shoulder. “It was proper daft. I was desperate and I panicked, and you were right there.” He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry for putting you in that position.”

Y/N just gave him a smile. “You don’t have to apologise, I’m glad I could help.”

“And I appreciate you helping me out, I really do, but… here’s the thing…” He cleared his throat. “Jessa and Gracie are right about losing their minds of this.”

Y/N chuckled. “Oh?”

“Yeah, they called and texted all last night and this morning, saying how nice it was to meet you, that I need to bring you to Grace’s birthday next Saturday,” Harry said. “And it makes me wonder if it was even worth it yesterday. I still appreciate what you did, and this is all my fault, but I think…” He trailed off again, scratching at the back of his neck. “Look, I’m doing a naff job of explaining this.”

Sipping her juice, Y/N just smiled at him till she put her glass down. “Take your time.”

He took a deep breath. “Think I might tell them it’s all fake. I don’t have a partner and that’s fine.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, being single is fine.”

“Only thing that’s stopping me is the fact that Jasmine will be crushed. Ever since my dad died, she’s been so worried about me living alone in the lighthouse.”

There was so much to unpack in that sentence that Y/N felt herself retract a little, scanning his face for what the appropriate reaction to that would be. Harry must’ve noticed her silence so he glanced at her face, eyes going wide.

“Oh! Don’t feel like you-“

“-I’m sorry about your dad.”

“No, that’s okay, he hasn’t been with us for two years now,” Harry went on. “That was a real mood killer. Bringing up my dead father with someone I barely know.”

Y/N smiled. “Think you fake breaking up with me was a great mood killer before that was even brought up.”

Harry smiled a little at that, those deep dimples just barely gracing his cheeks. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry.” She wiped at her mouth with the napkin, brows slowly coming into a frown. “You said something about a lighthouse… do you live there?”

“In the lighthouse?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I’m the lighthouse keeper.”

Her frown deepened a little.

“What?”

“I didn’t think those existed anymore.”

“What, lighthouses?” Harry’s smile widened, amusement tracing his pink lips.

“No, lighthouse keepers.”

He shrugged. “Here’s a living, breathing example of one.”

She couldn’t help her laughter. “Fine, I take it back. I don’t really think about lighthouses enough to give their keepers much of a thought either.”

“Too bad.”

Y/N just shook her head some, noticing a slight redness to Harry’s cheeks that hadn’t been there a few seconds earlier. “You were saying about Jessa.”

“She’s worried about me living alone in the lighthouse. Says I’ll be lonely and that she thinks about me sitting up there crying my eyes out or summat.”

“Do you? Cry your eyes out?”

“No, I like having my own space. I like living there alone. She’s just being a protective stepmum, looking out for me and all that. Like, yes, I’m still sad Dad is dead, but it wasn’t like he lived with me in the lighthouse anyway. He lived with Jasmine and Grace.”

Y/N nodded slowly. “She doesn’t want you to be alone ‘cause she thinks you don’t want to be.”

“Exactly,” Harry said, pausing a bit before mumbling something that sounded like, “That’s why I’ve told them for a few months now that I have a girlfriend.”

She narrowed her eyes some.

“To get them off my back, innit? I don’t want them to think I’m miserable, ‘cause I’m not. But when I told them I had a girlfriend, they got so happy, yeah? I just tried to be as vague as possible, didn’t give them a name and they didn’t ask, assuming I wanted to keep her secret. Jessa hasn’t bugged me about this in weeks… Until yesterday.”

Y/N started piecing everything together. “That’s why you stormed out of the restaurant.”

He nodded. “And ran into you.”

Y/N couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “The idea of just telling them I was your fake girlfriend just fell into your head once you saw me?”

Harry chuckled and shifted his gaze away from her, clearly embarrassed. “Yeah. I never do stuff like that. I hate uncertainty, so trusting you yesterday when I didn’t know if you’d play along… well, it took five years of my life.”

She laughed. “If I hadn’t then the whole lie would’ve been obvious to Jessa and Grace.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help then,” Y/N said, really meaning it as well.

“Yeah, and thank you so much for doing so. It really helped me out… if you look away from Jasmine texting me five times today alone to organise a dinner with you and all of us.”

They both laughed a little at that and when Y/N glanced at Harry again, he was looking down at his hands in his lap. After a brief pause, he met her eyes again.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this, and thank you for helping me. I’ll tell them everything now, I don’t want you to have to hide while you’re here for two months.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

For the next few seconds, they looked at one another in silence. Y/N thought back to the moment she’d seen Harry, how it might’ve taken her a few seconds to catch on, but her main instinct had been to help him. She thought of the gratitude on Harry’s face when she played along, how she hoped he one day would find an actual girlfriend that would have just as big of an impact on Jessa and Grace as it seemed she herself had. She was about to tell Harry this when the sound of footsteps sounded from the lobby again.

A woman Bessie’s age walked in, a bag slung over her shoulder and sunglasses in her short black hair. As she stepped inside, she spotted Harry and Y/N sitting together and her mouth fell open, a grin coming to rest on her wrinkling face.

“Bessie, you didn’t tell me these two were going to be here,” the old woman said, walking into the dining area. Bessie stepped out from behind the wall that hid the reception desk from the dining hall. At that, Y/N’s stomach dropped. Bessie must’ve heard their entire conversation. By the look on Harry’s face, he was going through a similar near-death experience to the one Y/N was currently enduring.

“Hi, Mrs Rose,” Harry said, no one seemed to notice the slight tremor to his voice.

“Harry and his new girlfriend,” Mrs Rose said, looking between them. “You know, you lot are the talk of the town.”

“We are?” Harry asked, the surprise in his voice so evident it made the older women laugh.

“Yes, of course! Jasmine told everyone!” Mrs Rose continued, looking to Bessie who was already nodding her head.

“Not everyone, but she told her friends, and you know how people like to gossip around here, don’t you, Harry?” Bessie gave him a smile and Harry smiled back, though it did not reach his eyes. “Anyway, Florence, this is Y/N. Y/N, Florence.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Y/N said, grinning at Florence who stuck her hand out. The two shook hands as Florence beamed back at Y/N. “So, the whole town knows?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case,” Florence said, turning to Bessie who made a noise of agreement. “Jessa can talk about everything and anything for hours, but if her stepson gets a girlfriend? That’s the news of the century and she will not shut up.”

“How lovely,” Y/N said, not really knowing what else was appropriate in this setting as Harry hadn’t opened his mouth once to say anything.

“It’s a little less lonesome up in that lighthouse now, hm?”

“Oh, uhm…” Harry looked at Y/N and then back at Florence, his words having completely escaped him. Y/N was about to come to Harry’s rescue when Bessie took them both by surprise.

“They stayed here tonight,” Bessie explained and Florence looked at her with a furrow between her brows.

“Why on earth would they do that? Harry’s got a perfectly nice place by the lighthouse.”

“Who are we to question the decisions of our youth?” Bessie linked arms with Florence. “Let’s go outside, Flo dear. Leave the lovebirds to be by themselves.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs Rose,” Y/N called after them.

“And you, Y/N!”

The second the two ladies were out of sight, Harry and Y/N shared a wide-eyed look, both of their panic equal it seemed. Y/N took a sip of her juice, somehow thinking it would calm her down. It did not.

“Jasmine told everyone,” Harry said, voice a whisper so no one walking by or sitting in the back garden would hear them. “She told everyone.”

“She can’t have… right?”

“You underestimate Jessa. If she was kidnapped and put in a gag, she’d be able to talk through it and move her jaw and teeth in a way that would obliterate said gag.” Harry ran a hand over his face. “She’s very chatty.”

“You’ve painted a vivid picture.”

Harry sighed, leg bouncing and eyes distant as he seemed to be racking his brain for a solution to the situation they were finding themselves in. “I was gonna tell Jessa it was a lie. I was gonna tell-“

“-You still can.”

“But everyone knows now. It’ll be well embarrassing for us when we have to tell people on the street that ‘oh yeah, that ol’ thing, we only pretended to be a couple so people wouldn’t be all up in Harry’s business,’ I somehow don’t see that going down well.”

“Then there’s only one thing we can do?”

“What’s that?”

“We pretend to be a couple.”

He stared at her, his facial expression very neutral, and though Y/N didn’t know him well enough yet, she did think she could decipher when he was displeased and when he was not. He seemed to be mulling it over, wanting for her to elaborate before he made a final decision.

“Everyone knows, I’m leaving in August, we can just say we broke up when August comes around.”

Harry nodded, thinking for a moment before he asked, “What will people say when they see us separated on the street then? Like, we’re not seen together.”

“People need to spend some time apart; it’s exhausting to be around another person 24/7.”

Harry nodded again, contemplating their predicament. “There’s always a lot of parties around here during summer. You don’t have to tag along, but you might have to if Jessa’s gonna be there.”

“I don’t mind,” Y/N admitted, shrugging her shoulders some. “I don’t have anything to do all summer, anyway. Might as well be in a fake relationship with a bloke I barely know and help him all I can.”

This made a breathy chuckle leave Harry’s lips and he held her gaze some before having it fall to his folded hands. “Well…” he said, suddenly reaching his hand across the table. “I’m Harry Edward Styles.”

Y/N laughed but took Harry’s hand, shaking it lightly. “Pleased to meet you, Harry. I’m Y/N Bernadette Angelica McKay.”

Harry whistled under his breath. “Mouthful.”

“What happens when you’re brought up in a posh family.”

Harry smiled at that and sat back in his chair. “I guess… I-I guess we should talk about how we got together and all that.”

“Yeah, make a story so it sounds more believable.”

“It’ll help if we have the same story, yes.”

She couldn’t help her laughter again, but it was cut short as Harry’s phone in his pocket started ringing. He sighed, taking it out and looking at it before putting it back down.

“Look, I gotta go.”

“Oh.” Y/N, having thought they were going to plan their fake dating history, blinked in confusion when Harry stood from his chair and looked at her apologetically. “We’ll see each other at some point.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, walking off toward the back garden, calling Bessie’s name as he did. They exchanged some words Y/N couldn’t hear and Harry disappeared into the kitchen for a minute before resurfacing again. Standing in the lobby, he looked at Y/N through the doorway leading into the dining area, mouth opening and closing as he tried to come up with something to say.

She just gave him a smile, hoping he understood that she just wanted him to take his time. It took one more sigh and a little staring contest before Harry finally found his words.

“You know where to find me, my house is the very tall, pointy one on the outskirts of town.”

She chuckled, watching as he walked out of the front door and down the street. Y/N found her bag, putting it on her shoulder as she got her lunch tray and sat it in the kitchen as she’d done after her breakfast that morning. On her way upstairs, Y/N turned as she reached the front door that was left open to welcome guests. Stepping into the doorway, she looked out over St Ives.

Seagulls were still screaming overhead, the sound of people down by the beach hung in the air all throughout the day, it smelled of seafood and summer, and just beyond the small town, on a tiny hilltop and on the very tip of a cliff, stood a lighthouse. A white lighthouse that rose high above the whole coast around it, protecting everyone. Locals, foreigners, and sailors. And it was operated and taken care of by the bloke Y/N was going to spend her entire summer in a fake relationship with. It didn’t seem real, and yet, that was exactly what it was. She didn’t have Harry’s number and knew next to nothing about him, but – as he put it – he lived in the very tall, pointy house on the outskirts of town. It was impossible to miss it. She could find her way to him, even in the dark.

The lighthouse keeper, Y/N thought to herself as she took in the lighthouse again through the window of her room once she walked upstairs. I have to pretend to be in love with a lighthouse keeper. And somehow, Y/N realised when looking back on that particular summer, that wasn’t the weirdest thing that would happen to her in St Ives.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 2 August, 9PM GMT!

Huge thanks to my AMAZING beta readers! 🌊 @aileenacoustic 🌊 @bopbopstyles 🌊 @fromyourstrulyh 🌊 @harrys-creature 🌊 @honeydearly 🌊 @juliassgem 🌊 @summerfeelng 🌊 @sunflower--styles 🌊 @withallthelove-a 🌊

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #het fic #1dff #PLS DO COME CHAT WHEN YOU'RE DONE READING I LOVE YOU SO MUCH :DDDDDDD

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mindofharry · 3 years

Text

here’s some vampire harry!!!!! pls treat him with the love and respect he deserves <3

“Honey, this is just water under the bridge” Your mother, Joanne, reassured you. She placed a rogue piece of hair behind your ear. You were both sitting on your bed, cuddling like you were 10 years old again. Getting fired, from your dream job for no apparent reason at all has basically broken you. Your mother is trying to reassure you, that it was meant to happen - that everything happens for a reason. You just want your job back.

“We’ll start job hunting again, next week. Ok?” Joanne said, you sighed and rolled over on your sighed. Your mum rubbed your back and took all the dirty cups from your room with her as she left your room.

You tried to sleep, to try and forget everything that had just happened that afternoon. But, your mind was occupied and too busy. So you decided you better start looking for some jobs, even interviews. Even though you still live with your mum, you still need money. Not just for yourself, but your mum too. All the money that comes into the house is coming from you and the jobs you have. You were finally comfortable with money, for the first in your life. But the world just really hated you at the moment.

You walk over your desk and sit down, opening up the second hand laptop you bought yourself for christmas. It’s nothing special like a mac, but it does the job. Once you’re logged in, you open google and type in ‘JOBS IN MY AREA’. You didn’t go to college and you barley passed high school, you’ll be lucky if you even get a job at the local book store.

You needed to stop this, punishing yourself. It’s not your fault, you remind yourself.

Nearly falling asleep at your desk, you decided to head to bed. Tomorrow will be better.

Tomorrow is not better. It’s worse than yesterday. You couldn’t even bare to open your laptop after being so disappointed last night. And you’re mum kept trying to reassure you, but you felt responsible for this.

Your mum couldn’t work, she’s not well and she’s in denial about it. She goes to AA meetings and talks with therapists, but she just can’t stay sober. You’ve tried to get her into working, but she manages to fuck it up everytime. Your mum is good mother, she took care of you and did the best she could. But sometimes you just wished she’d just stay sober, for even a week. So you could be a normal 19 year old, go out for drinks and hang out with friends. But you know she’s not a normal mum. And that’s something you just have to live with.

“Morning, love” Joanne said sipping on her ‘tea’. You knew it was alcohol so you gave her a pointed look.

She sighed and poured the drink down the sink. “Good, now go brush your teeth and we can talk” you say pulling your hair up. You mother shook her head and sighed. “I’m the mum here, Y/N. Don’t treat me like i’m the teenager” she said and you laughed. Really? This is how today’s going to go? the universe really hates me, you thought.

“You just hid vodka from me mum” you say and she sighed walking over and kissing your temple. “I’m sorry, ok? I’m trying, lovey” she said and you could tell how hard she was trying to keep together. you nodded and smiled, this was going to be a good day. Bite your tongue, Y/N.

“Yeah, i know. Now go get ready, i need help job hunting” you say and she nodded making her way out of the kitchen and up to her room. You sighed and put the kettle on. You walked into the pantry and took the vodka she had opened and poured it down the sink. Let’s see how long it takes her to notice.

You sat down with your cup of tea and one for your mum, opening up the paper and your laptop.

When your mum came back in, she looked a lot nicer and healthier. The shower did her good.

“So i saw someone looking for an assistant on facebook” Your mum said logging into her facebook on your laptop. You smiled to yourself, she really cared about you. “His name is harry i think, something along the lines of needing someone to sort out his schedule which you’re pretty good at” she said showing you the post. A few, actually a lot, of people had already liked the post and there was people sharing their CVs in the comments begging for a chance. You didn’t have the heart to tell your mum that this person wasn’t going to accept you.

“I mean, you can apply for other jobs but i think it’s perfect for you” She said biting her nip nervously. You nodded smiling in reassurance. “Yeah, it’s perfect mum. Thank you, i’ll try and get an interview. I also found a cleaning job too, so that’s good. Both jobs look like they pay well” you say with a shrug.

Joanne nodded and kissed your temple. “You’ll get a job. Don’t worry about it.”

After sending your CV to multiple possible bosses, you shut your laptop and turn your phone off of silent. Job hunting is a pain in the ass and exhausting, all you can do now is make lunch and hope for the best.

You were braiding your mothers hair when you got the call. You were both having a girly night as your mum hadn’t drank a sip of alcohol all day, it was definitely something to celebrate.

“Is this Y/N L/N i’m speaking with?” the voice asked, he sounded so bright and chipper. And he was irish too.

“This is her! how can i help you?” you asked and the man cleared his throat and paused for a second. “I’m offering you a job. the job” he said and you almost dropped your phone. You put it on your leg, on speaker so your mum could hear and you could multitask. You brushed the ends of your mum hair and let out a shaky breath.

“Do i need to come in for an interview?”

“Well, me and the boss would like to get to know you, get a feel of how you work on your own and with help. just like a test run, but if i’m being honest the is yours” he said and you could almost cry. “You’re exactly the kind of person Harry, my boss is looking for Y/N” he said.

“I’m niall by the way, i’m harry’s personal assistant” Niall said and you smiled.

“Well, when can i come in?”

After settling some stuff with Niall, who is kind of your boss too you were free to hang up. your mum squealed and pulled you into the tightest hug ever. “I told you, everything happens for a reason! you were exactly who they were looking for, babe” your mother said caressing your cheeks. You kissed her temple and nodded.

“You’re the best, you know that?” You said and your mum shrugged. “Eh, i’m okay” she giggled, you sat back down on the couch.

“Lay down, mum. We’ve got it sorted now”

You were going in to the offices, or as what niall called STYLES x MALIK, harry styles and zayn malik are both the bosses of the fashion company they both created. They have a headquarters in the states, but they’re just starting up a new headquarters in england, as harry and zayn grew up here and would like to see their families a lot more. Niall basically told you their whole life story over the phone, which you were very thankful for. Saves you the googling.

It was a tuesday morning, when you got the go ahead to pop in. Niall said to look nice, but casual. Like you’re going out for a dinner with your partners family. So you pull out your best high waisted flare jeans, an orange stripped shirt and tucked into your jeans. You topped it off with your lucky platforms and some jewellery. You left your hair natural, and the same with your makeup only some lip gloss and mascara.

“You look beautiful, honey”

“Thanks mum” You grinned pulling her into a hug. You placed your bag over your shoulder and took the car keys from the bowl at the front door. “I’ll be back soon, ok? Go for a walk or something” you say squeezing her hand, before leaving.

20 minutes away from you, is a angry, grumpy vampire. Niall was sat in front of harry, with a grin on his face.

“She’s literally perfect harry” Niall try to reason, but harry was having absolutely none of it. He wanted to rip that blonde son of bitch heart out.

“Niall, i didn’t want her though.” Harry said standing up from his desk, opening up a file and pointing at a picture.

“i wanted her”

Harry was pointing at a girl, blonde hair, blue eyes and great blood. He had tasted her before and worked his magic into getting her an interview - of course, she doesn’t remember him though. But this Y/N girl, he didn’t want her and he never agreed to having her come here today.

“You’ll have to fire her or make up some excuse, fuck i need something” Harry mumbled placing a hand over his eyes, Niall walked over to the fridge in the corner of harrys office he opened it up and took out a bag of blood pouring it in to a small glass. He placed it on the table standing in front of a frustrated vampire.

“She’s really good, Harry. You’ll regret it if you don’t let her do the test run” Niall said before walking to the door. “And she’s hot as fuck” he added leaving the room.

Harry hated being the bad guy, usually he’s a nice person. More lively, a bit like niall. A lot more quiet though, he’s pensive and reads people really well, one of his many talents as a vampire.

Harry was born in 1908, to a wealthy family. He had caring parents, a loving sister and good future a head of him. Until he met liam payne, they met in university decided to work together. The next thing you know, liam had his fangs in harrys neck and he was immortal. The first few years were hard, he was wreck less and did everything possible to get even a drop of blood. He met zayn five years after being turned, and he was sort of like the alpha of their ‘pack’ so to speak. He taught harry all he knew about control and using powers to get what you want, but only when you so desperately need it. They met niall in the 70s, he was freshly turned and needed help. They took him under their wings, and here they are today with a fashion company and a load of money in their pockets.

“What’s all the fuss about?” Zayn asked walking into harrys office with a few files in his hands. Harry huffed and sipped on the blood niall had poured for him. “I’m closed” harry said sitting down on his chair, zayn laughed and shook his head. “You have an interview in 5 minutes, get it together styles” Zayn said and dropped the files on his desk.

“Whether we hire or not, be nice. Her file is there, read it, study it. And keep those fangs to yourself” Zayn warned pointing at harry, then walked out of his office. Harry sighed and opened the file, stopping in his tracks when he saw your face.

You’re beautiful, so fucking beautiful.

He could tell the photo was professionally done, and you definitely had gotten someone to take it in a rush. Your CV is also a mess, but harry thinks it’s endearing. God, you’ve hypnotised him already. Harry could feel your aura through a picture, how the fuck was that even possible?

“She’s here” Niall said through the glass door. Harry nodded and cracked his neck, let’s get this over with then.

He could see niall biting his lip as she walked up, he couldn’t keep it in his pants for 2 seconds.

Niall opened the door and harry watched the girl walk in, her flares and platforms got his attention. She’s perfect. For him. Niall was still checking her out, so harry cleared his throat. Niall smirked and shook his head walking out of the office.

“Take a seat” Harry said and you smiled, sitting down. “I just want to say, i’m really grateful for this opportunity” you say, and harry nearly rolled his eyes. She’s too beautiful for a sob story. “I appreciate it” you say, and harry nodded quickly wanting to move away from anything emotional.

“um, so we don’t need you” He lied and you nearly choked on you own spit. Your eyebrows furrowed and you flushed a bit. Harry could see niall shaking his head. Damn you, super human hearing.

“Don’t need me? Niall said that i was just what you were looking for” you say, not angry just confused. Harry was impressed at how well you could keep your feelings in check, but he could feel how agitated you were becoming.

“Well, he’s wrong” Harry said and closed the file. “Have a nice day” He said with a fake smile. You couldn’t believe this. Fuck this.

“Fuck you” You said grabbing your bag and hoisting it up onto your shoulder. “Woah, Woah, what’s going on in here?” Zayn asked his hands in the air.

“Ask him, thanks for nothing” You say moving to walk out of the office. You needed to get out of here. “Just wait” Zayn called out, you stopped and sighed turning around.

“You’ve got the job” zayn said and your eyes widened in shock. “You start this friday, niall will email you detail. Use this week to treat yourself, on me ok?” Zayn said handing you a 50 dollar note. Who are you to deny money? You nodded and smiled at him. “Thank you” you say and he nodded.

“Don’t disappoint me”

You got yourself a coffee on the way home, you were a little overwhelmed and you needed to calm down before you went home to your mum. You just hope she didn’t do anything stupid while you were out.

“Mum, i’m home” you called out handing your bag up on the hanger. You got no response, so you looked around the house. Nothing in the kitchen or bathroom. The only places left are her room and living room.

You walked into the living room, to see your mum passed out on the couch a bottle of wine and an empty bottle of vodka on the coffee table. you sighed “Oh, mum” you said tears welling up in your eyes. “Why do you keep doing this” you mumbled picking up the wine and empty bottle, you put them away and cleaned up the cup. After that, you placed a blanket over her.

“You’ll get better soon, mum. I’ll be able to pay for it. We’ll have everything we’ve ever dreamt of and more” You say, kissing her forehead.

The next couple of days, you were nursing your mother back to health and used the 50 dollars your new boss gave you to by some groceries. Your mother really needed some hangover snacks, and she needed a lot of them. Luckily, you’ve been doing this a lot longer than you should’ve.

“Mum, i’m off to work” You said peaking through her door. She wasn’t talking to you at the moment.

“Alright, there’s medicine on the counter downstairs, snacks and stuff too. There’s no alcohol and no money, so don’t even try” You warned closing her door. God, this was so hard. You wondered how long it would take to be fired from this job.

You arrived early at the office, niall greeted you and took you to your own little office. It was nothing huge, but you absolutely adored it.

“Hey, don’t worry about harry” Niall said and you nodded. “I’m not, don’t worry” you reassured him smiling as you put down your diary.

“Good, well i’ll leave you to it” Niall said and you grinned at him.

“Good luck”

“Why?”

“You’ll need it”

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secret-rendezvous1d · 3 years

Note

Blogmas having the miss announcing she is pregnant on christmas to P and H?

Hello, hi!

Welcome to Blogmas 2020.

Many more blurbs, many more chats and a lot more festivities to come; my inbox will be open all through December this year for blurb prompts for Blogmas so don’t feel afraid to pop in a prompt to get written for tis year; all I can say is that if you’re asking for a lengthy prompt, I’m not the right person right now, haha.

I’m welcoming absolutely anything for this year; any AU, any characters, any ideas.

Reblog, like, comment and share your thoughts with me. Please let me know what you think because feedback is always appreciated on here; much more appreciated now given that I’ve not written a lot in a long while. Please let me know what you think.

Enjoy!

DECEMBER, 2022.

YN was no stranger to a positive pregnancy test.

If you told her six years ago that she’d be a mother to a little girl the following year, who was the spitting image of her father, then she’d have told you that you were taking the piss and that they were dreaming all kinds of madness. So, if you told her three days ago that she’d be a mother to a second baby, she’d have laughed in your face and told you to jog on because “one’s enough for me right now.”

Of course, she’d grown up wanting more than one child to teach life skills and nurture and mould into such a beautiful young thing who cared and loved like there was no such thing as tomorrow. She’d been an only child herself and found life to be rather… different. Especially to her friends in school who were children of many in their families. Of course, YN had cousins and she saw them whenever she wanted (moreso on festive holidays and family birthdays rather than her parents appearing on their doorstep for a cup of tea and an offer for the kids to play in the garden until dark) but it never amounted to the same feeling as seeing a sibling on a daily basis, after school or in the morning, someone to wind up and irritate out of love but someone to trust when something came up that she didn’t want her parents knowing.

So when Persephone was born, freshly cleaned and m minutes old and laying her father’s arms in the most pinkest blanket found in her hospital bag, YN deemed it necessary to silently promise to never let her experience a childhood alone. Not that she thought it was a bad thing to be an only child; heck, she was thankful she never had the bickering brother to deal with that only fought for those he loved or the snotty older sister who told her what to do and not to do with her life but loved her all the same. She felt envious of Harry when she was introduced to his older sister but soon felt that Gemma was an older sister of her own flesh and blood with how welcoming she’d been and seeing the brother-sister bond that Harry had, she found it was only necessary to let her own child have that exciting life growing up.

“You’re not eating much this morning,” Harry said softly, inhaling the smell of honey porridge before wrapping his lips around the spoon in his hand and swallowing the thick textured substance. Eyes focused on his wife as sat in her own world, stirring her tea in her china mug, an ashen look on her face - because morning sickness had been a bigger bitch to her the second time than the first time and she wasn’t expecting it to be as bad- as she hid behind a smile. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I think I’m a little stressed out. I have too much to do this coming week and too little time to do it and I feel so rushed,” she murmured, setting her teaspoon upon the plate that did hold her dry toast before Harry came and joined her for breakfast, fingers curling around the handle of her mug. “I might have to cancel lunch with your mum this afternoon. I need to start wrapping, decorating, planning Christmas day, getting the food in.”

“You’re looking a little sick, I’m sure she won’t mind if you want to cancel.”

“She was so excited though.”

“She’d feel even better if you took some time out for yourself and felt better. Besides, she’s coming next week with Gem and Michal for Christmas dinner so she’s got that to look forward to,” Harry said, plunging his spoon into his porridge before taking another bite and swallowing it, honey sticking to his pink lips, “what can I do to make you feel less stressed? Give me something to do.”

“You could go and pick Seff’s main present up from that toy shop on Oxford Street for me. I got an email saying it arrived yesterday morning so we just need to go and get it. I can wrap the last of her presents up whilst you’re gone and hide yours somewhere where you don’t go snooping,” she stated, cocking an eyebrow up on her browline and staring at him over the rim of her white mug, “like you did last year.”

“In my defence, you did ask me to go and get a pair of knickers from your drawer after your bath.”

Harry had always been one to go snooping when it came to gifts. Anne had told her that the first Christmas she spent with Harry during a conversation that spiked up when YN pulled Anne aside to ask her for tips on what to get him, whether he'd asked for anything specific and whether he was allergic to anything specific that would give her gift idea away if she asked him. And it stuck in the back of her mind every year.

Although, in his defense, he didn’t necessarily go snooping through her underwear drawer to find what she had brought for him, given the fact that she had a brainfart and had forgotten where she hid his most expensive gift for that year; a six-hundred pound watch that she’d seen him eyeing up in the shop window of Gucci every time they wandered passed. She knew he’d reach into the drawer, grab his favourite pair (that she always placed at the front of her pants) and chuck them into the bathroom with a joke that hinted to a little bedroom action when Persephone was in bed.

“You didn’t have to get a pair from the back end of my drawer. Since when do you reach for my period pants when I put all my nice, lacy ones at the front?” She huffed, rolling her eyes as she took a sip of the warm tea and felt it slide down her sore throat, goosebumps rising on her skin because there was a sense of warmth yet a sense of burning; acid reflux had become a bitch, too, and she was looking forward to sending him to the supermarket pharmacy, late at night, to grab a bottle of Gaviscon and heartburn tablets. “Plus, it was in a box with my name on it, sellotaped up on both ends, and put left in the box it came in. You had to open the box to find out what was inside the other box.”

“It fell out?” He shrugged sheepishly and sent her a cheeky smile. Tight-lipped, regardless of how sticky his lips were, and showing off his dimples in the middle of his cheeks. But YN was having none of it and she made sure her face told him that, her fingers tapping her mug. “Okay, fine. Curiosity got the better of me when I found it and I peeked. I promise I won’t this time though. The silent treatment you gave me on Christmas day was horrible.”

“You deserved it. I was excited to surprise you with it and you ruined it.”

“I know.”

The kitchen fell into a comfortable silence and all they could hear, coming from upstairs, was the bathroom tap running as Persephone brushed her teeth and got herself ready before school. Her uniform folded up and placed on her desk, like every morning, right next to the hairbrush that YN used to tie her hair into whatever kind of hairstyle she fancied for the day; today, it was plaits… thankfully, because YN really didn’t want to go through the hassle of doing space buns again. Her school bag and her lunch box were hanging off the back of the chair at the head of the table, homework left in her red folder on the table so she could double check her name was written on it before slotting it into her bag, shiny black shoes with a buckle left in the living room where she’d kicked them off yesterday. Coat hanging on the hook in the entryway, where she could reach for it on her way out before clambering into Harry’s Range Rover so he could drive her to school; her favourite mode of transport, she made sure to tell him every night.

“Can you get it by lunchtime today? So I can wrap it before she comes home from school. Otherwise she’ll see it and want it as soon as possible and this is probably the best one of the lot. And we know she follows in her father’s footsteps,” YN smirked, nudging her toe into his shin, “aren’t I right?”

“Like father, like daughter.”

The problem with wrapping presents was the backache.

Chronic backache experienced after an hour of being hunched over on the living room floor, sat cross-legged and leaning against the sofa, surrounded by rolled up balls of sellotape that got stuck to itself and useless pieces of wrapping paper that had no purpose on a present because it was too small or too wonkily cut. Bags upon bags full of Christmas presents, all named for family and friends, that she needed Harry to deliver before Christmas eve.

By the time she’d reached the bottom step, after her fourth trip up the stairs to take the newly wrapped presents into her office (locked to save the wandering eyes and the curious toes of her little girl finding them in the corner of her home-office), her husband had arrived home with an excitable Persephone and a guilty look upon his face as he shrugged his coat off and unwrapped his scarf from around his neck. His nose pink, Persephone’s cheeks red, but both their jumpers decorated with crumbs from what she could only imagine came from a cake in their favourite local bakery down the road.

“Mummy! Mummy, daddy took me for a cake afterschool today. I had a chocolate one with sprinkles and a flake and it tasted like an orange and-”

Harry’s eyes widened and he looked to his wife, who had a knowing grin on her face, and he knew he’d been busted from the moment he walked through the door.

“Seff, you promised me you weren’t going to blab to mummy. That was our secret, little lady,” he chuckled softly, cupping the back of her head with his palm, fingertips cold against her scalp, “mummy wasn’t supposed to know.”

“But it was really good and I wanted to tell mummy about it because she can get one when she goes out shopping with auntie Gem and they can taste it and tell me it was yummy,” Persephone grinned, the gap between her two front teeth starting to fill in with a brand-new adult tooth, all pearly white and jagged, “mummy can buy me another one and herself one and auntie Gem one and we can share them together.”

“Did you bring me anything back?”

Her gloved hands dug around her school bag, school shoes long forgotten by the front door and kicked off haphazardly, her scarf hanging round her shoulders and her hand tucked into Harry’s fist because, YN could only guess, she didn’t want to mess up the plaits still perfectly done up. A rustle of wrapping coming from the flat of her pocket, bringing out a carefully wrapped gingerbread man with a purple ribbon tying it together at the top, a bobble stuck to the top as some kind of festive decoration.

“I brought you a gingerbread man, mummy! With the money Nana gave me in my Christmas card,” she thrust her hand towards her mother and passed it to her; YN was sure the money her own mother had given to her was for something she could use herself but she was thankful, of course, entirely grateful that she’d chosen to share her money to get her something.

“Thank you, baby. We’ll share it for pudding after dinner later, yeah? With some strawberries.”

“Yeah and some chocolate sauce!”

And with that, she ran off into the living room and found a comfy space on the sofa to watch whatever YN had left on the television, leaving her mother and father to tidy the mess left behind in the entryway.

“Maybe a little sauce,” YN said as she reached for the coat on the floor, hanging it on the hook beneath her’s and Harry’s, hanging her scarf over the top and leaving her gloves on the radiator to warm up, “you’ve had some chocolate already today.”

Harry grinned and pressed a kiss to his wife’s forehead, squeezing her arm before sneaking passed her and into the living room, bending over the sofa to look at his daughter from an upside-down position, “come on you, let’s go do your homework at the table.”

“Actually,” YN blurted suddenly, standing in the archway before them, smiling softly at them as they looked at her, “before you do that, can I tell you something? Well, not tell you something. Show you something. I want to give you both an early Christmas present, I guess.”

Persephone perked up and pushed herself to her knees, an excitable grin on her already excitable face as she looked between her mum and dad, a confused look spread across Harry’s features.

“What is it?”

YN disappeared for a second, footsteps heard going up the stairs and a creak heard from a bedroom being opened - and if Harry was right then it was the spare room, because he’d promised to fix the squeaking door but had yet to get round to it, where nowhere really went into because it was empty and desolate and had no decor in it yet. There was a sound of some rustling, faint but still audible if you listened closely, the creak heard again before footsteps were heard descending the stairs, a deep breath escaping her mouth before she turned the corner. A white box tucked under her arm.

“Mummy, what’s in the box?”

“I’ll let daddy open it but sit together to open it because it’s for the both of you and I can’t wait till next week to give it to you,” she stepped across the carpet and passed it over, letting him get a good feel of how heavy it was before he sauntered around the sofa and sat on the sofa beside his daughter. Her hand coming across to touch and stroke the white box, looking at it with furrowed eyebrows, waiting for her father to open the flaps and pull whatever was inside out for them to look at.

Harry’s fingers timidly opened the box, sellotape coming undone as he pulled the contents out and set them upon the top; a white babygrow, a white hat and matching mittens and a sonogram of the ultrasound she had during her doctor’s visit. Biting her bottom lip, she couldn’t help but feel the pit of her stomach drop; unexpected or not, they were expecting a baby and she couldn’t have been more excited - she just hoped his silence meant he felt the same.

“So, what do you think?”

A gasp left his mouth.

“What- does this explain why you’ve been so ill?” He stood to his feet and left the contents behind, stepping around the sofa to grab her into a hug and squeeze her against his chest. The sting of happy tears burning the corners of his eyes as he twirled the both of them around. “God, I had a hunch in the back of my head that you were pregnant but I didn’t want to say anything in case it wasn’t. Christ, you think I haven’t heard you vomiting in the bathroom in the mornings before I wake up? Not eating your usual breakfast? All the same mannerisms from the first one?”

He set YN back on the floor and cupped his forehead with his hand.

“I found out this week, Monday evening actually. I wanted to wait till Christmas day to surprise you but I was too excited and it was killing me keeping it from you. I wanted to come back and shout it at you on Monday but- well, surprise.”

“Daddy, what is it?”

They both looked at Persephone and saw her holding the black and white photograph; a scene they hadn’t ever imagined but never wanted to take for granted. Bracing his weight on his elbows, he leant on the back of the sofa and took the picture from her hands, using his pointer finger to show her just what they were so excited about. His eyes scanned the photo before he found what he was looking for, turning it back to Persephone so he could show her the right place.

“You see that little white blob there? Right here,” he spoke softly, pointing to the middle of the sonogram, waiting for her to nod before carrying on “that’s going to be your new baby brother or sister, little lady.”

Her eyes widened and she looked at him.

“Where are you getting them from? Will they be here for Christmas? Can I come with you to pick one?”

Harry chuckled and looked over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of a tear dribbling down YN’s cheek, his own eyes threatening to flood.

“They’re in mummy’s belly right now. A little tiny dot, no bigger than your fingernail. That’ll grow, just like you did, in mummy’s belly until they’re nice and ready to come out and join us next year.”

“Why next year?”

At this point, YN had taken the space next to her husband, standing straight. She reached for her daughter’s hand, bringing it beneath her jumper and placing it on her bare tummy.

“Because they need to grow nice and strong in mummy’s belly before they can come and meet us,” YN smiled, squeezing her hand as they kept their joined hands underneath her bellybutton, “just like you did. That’s where you started, where you came from, until you came and joined us here. Growing and blossoming until they’re ready to come and see us.”

“Like a flower?”

“Yeah,” YN grinned at Harry, his arm resting over her shoulder as he pulled her into his side, squeezing her tightly to his body, “like the most delicate flower in the world. They need the space and time to grow big and strong in my belly, nice and healthy so they can come out and be a part of our family when they’re ready, and be your little brother or sister.”

“That’s great news, huh, little lady? You’re going to be a big sister.”

“The best big sister ever.”

#harry styles imagines #harry styles blurbs #harry styles prompts

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fire-bear · 4 years

Text

I have had a really eventful week - so much so that I lost track of days at the start of the week... Here are some things that happened (mostly unrelated to Covid-19):

I went to the theatre last Saturday to see Curtains (before Scotland/the UK banned gatherings over 500) which is really good and people should go see it in, like, 6 months when we can go out again.

That same day I drove over a massive pothole - like, it was a huge square in the middle of the road that I didn’t register as a problem (I think I thought it was a patch of road that had been dug up and covered over) until the last second. This resulted in...

Discovering that I had a slow puncture exactly a week ago (confirmed by my more knowledgeable sister when we went to a farm café along the road from us for a get together) and had to go buy a pump to pump it up as the garage my mum suggested wasn’t open on a Sunday. So I decided to go up early on Monday morning when...

My mum discovered that our washing machine had decided to pack it in - it’s been playing up for a while, but it wouldn’t stop (it had 1 minute to go! according to it) and wouldn’t open to get the clothes out. So when we went to the garage (who asked me to come in the next day to get it sorted) we also stopped at Argos to get a new washing machine - it’ll be delivered this coming Thursday... I hope. In the meantime, handwashing it is! And also using the washing machines at the Gulf petrol station nearby.

Got my tyre replaced.

On the Monday, my mum had to get my Grandpa to come over to help disconnect it (he’s 69 so it’s okay!) but when he reconnected it he had some trouble and accidentally pulled the pipe out of the other one it was connected to in the cupboard under the stairs. When my mum started to move stuff to get the things she’d arranged an uplift for (we’ve been meaning to do it for ages), she discovered that the carpet in the hall was soaked because any time we used the kitchen sink there was water going everywhere. Cue using a basin and then crossing the road to throw it down the drain because the one at our front door was covered with all the stuff getting uplifted.

Monday evening is when my mum found out that she needs to socially distance/self isolate/stay at home - she’s an at risk person cause she gets the flu jab for underlying health conditions so she’s been doing housework and reading books and she’s gonna be bored in a couple of weeks.

Started cleaning everything at work because they gave us stuff and they had notices up saying we were gonna do it more and no-one else seemed to be doing it. This was both good and bad - I have a very mild dermatitis which is exacerbated by heat and certain soaps/cleaning products. And also by washing my hands too much. So...

When they put up a sign in work on, like, Thursday, about gloves, I asked about it when they talked to us about what was going to happen. (We get paid for the first couple of weeks at our normal rate as if we were actually working and then get sick pay. Plus company sick pay but I think that’s only if you’ve been with the company since 2012 and I’ve only been there since 2016 so...)

People at work kept going on about big announcements and then watching it on their phones, hoping they were saying they were closing the shops (because it makes sense and because it’s been so quiet that we had nothing much to do) - and then nothing happened.

On Friday morning, I went to run errands for my mum and couldn’t get out of the parking space in the way I wanted to because of the van parked across the road from me and the angle. I ended up scraping the car beside me and I only found out because of some old guy. I still have the P plates on and he helpfully said, “You need to go back and pass your test again.” I bet that guy doesn’t drive so... Urgh. Also, like, I was worried about it and decided to leave a note with my name and number (still no call about it, though) and the guy was all, “Just leave it. I would just leave it.” Why did you stop me to tell me about it, then??

Drove to and fro across town yesterday doing the shopping - and also looking to see if anywhere had toilet paper. Thankfully, my sister shops at Costco sometimes and she’d gotten a lot from one of their deals or something a while back so she gave us some today so we don’t need to worry about that for a couple of weeks. And our local village shop has industrial toilet roll for sale if we’re struggling so that’s cool.

Got called today about how the chain of shops I work in is closing all its shops in the UK (already closed them in other countries) so I can get stuff done at home now. (Such as rearranging my room and stuff.)

#things

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yellowpeach · 5 years

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For the film asks, all of them? (2010/Chris Evans/Brie Larson/Edgar Wright for the *insert here* questions)

ahh!!! thank you so much for asking anon! this will take a while so i will probs stick most of it under a cut :)

a movie you’ve seen most times in cinema.

i answered this one here!

your most rewatched movie.

that’d be between toy story, the lord of the rings trilogy, moulin rouge, to all the boys i’ve loved before and this weird animated film called tubby the tuba. my grandma owned it on vhs and i spent basically every school holiday at her house so i watched it more times than i can think of!

a movie you quote on a daily basis.

i quote dumb youtube videos more than films on a regular basis, but i do quote a lot of lord of the rings lines like “it comes in pints?!” or anything else that comes out of one of the hobbits mouths.

favorite movie soundtrack

probably moulin rouge? that or the first guardians of the galaxy. they’re the only two that i still own on CD..

top 5 films of your favorite actor and actress

okay so my initial thought for favourite actor is actually tom hanks, so in that case.

forrest gump

philadelphia

toy story

the green mile

larry crowne (not the most amazing film in the world but it’s so endearing to me!)

and for actress i would probably say toni colette? her or blake lively, but i don’t have a top five for either of them. for toni it’d be;

about a boy

muriel’s wedding

miss you already

and for blake it’d be;

a simple favor

the age of adeline

elvis and annabelle

top 5 performances of your favorite actor and actress.

see above, they’re one and the same to me.

a movie storyline you wish you had actually lived.

about time. might be biased since i’m watching it now, but it’d be nice to do things over if i could.

a movie that reminds you of your mum.

local hero. i’ve watched it with her many times and it’s one of her favourites.

a movie that reminds you of your dad.

any of the harry potter films. we went to all of them at the cinema together.

favorite movies from your childhood.

it’s gonna be toy story again. this will likely be a running theme, i fucking love this movie.

favourite quote(s).

too many to count from the lord of the rings. sam’s monologue at the end of the two towers, gandalf speaking to pippin in return of the king. also sam saying “i can’t carry it for you, but i can carry you!”. this is really just a love letter to sam now, isn’t it….

top 5 favorite female performances.

i would have to come back to this, i can’t brain right now.

top 5 favorite male performances.

see above.

favourite year for movies.

after googling, it looks like 1993 was a bloody good year.

your favorite movies from [insert year].

2010 is the year you mentioned and from looking on google, my faves are toy story 3, how to train your dragon, black swan, scott pilgrim vs the world, easy a, megamind, tangled, AHH DAYDREAM NATION CAME 2010!! MY FAVE!! man, 2010 was a good one :D

favorite [insert actor/actress/director] movies?

so you said chris evans, brie larson and edgar wright. so faves in order would be:

short term 12

captain america: the winter soldier

hot fuzz or the world’s end (can’t pick between the two soz)

list all you’ve seen from [insert actor/actress/director].

so many, my dude. so many.

an underrated actor.

brain is fried. i’m sure there’s some but i’m blanking hard.

an underrated actress.

see above.

an underrated director.

see above.

an overrated actor.

johnny fucking depp.

an overrated actress.

scarlett johansson soz lol

an overrated director.

QUENTIN FUCKING TARANTINO

a film you wish you had seen on the big screen.

like any of my favourite 80s movies or the original psycho. also the lord of the rings, for some reason my folks didn’t take me to those.

a movie you’ve seen that you think no one else’s here will have heard of?

i am yet to encounter someone who knows the previously mentioned tubby the tuba.

favorite movie characters.

steve rogers, rapunzel from tangled, leia skywalker, lara-jean song-covey

a film that was better than the book.

i love to all the boys i loved before, but the film captured me in a way that the book didn’t as much.

best remake.

i’d watch tom holland or andrew garfield over tobey maguire for spiderman any day fight me.

your first favorite actor.

probably orlando bloom? back when i was a wee bab, i watched anything of his that i could find at the video rental.

your first favorite actress.

hilary duff probably. child me watched all of lizzie mcguire and any movies of hers.

favorite animated film.

if you’ve read this far and can’t figure it out, i don’t know what to say. it’s toy story, obviously.

your most anticipated films.

endgame and basically any other superhero movie coming out, toy story 4, the sequel for to all the boys i’ve loved before, the richard curtis movie called yesterday that is coming out in june (???) i think, STAR WARS.

last movie that disappointed you.

sierra burgess is a loser. fuck, no one else wanted that movie to be good as much as i did.

last movie that surpassed your expectations

nothing will ever match how blown away i was by pacific rim when i saw it. i went with my cousin knowing literally NOTHING about it. also i guess 2017′s it. i’m not big on seeing horror at the cinema and i didn’t expect to find it as funny as i did because the kids in it were so great.

actor in need of new agent.

idk bruh, i can’t think of anything right now for this.

actress in need of new agent.

see above.

share an unpopular film opinion you have.

idk how unpopular this is because i’m pretty sure thanks to #metoo most people want these kind of people want out of hollywood, but i despise woody allen and roman polanski films. the fact that i had to study them while getting my degree is despicable, and the argument that they’ve done a lot for the film industry is trash. don’t make their work important, studying it so thoroughly gives it power and i want to never have to speak about their trash again.

favorite Oscar win/speech.

who couldn’t say olivia colman’s from this years oscars. that warmed my cold dead heart and i cried for her.

biggest Oscar snub(s).

arrival should have won/been nominated for more than it did.

who do you think is overdue for another nomination/win?

amy adams!!! she was so fucking amazing in arrival, i wanted her to win all of the things.

how many movies have you seen (rough estimation)?

must be hundreds (not that these answers are any indication since i’ve talked about approx four films) since i own hundreds of DVDs, i go to the cinema regularly, i am constantly watching stuff on netflix and any other streaming services.

a movie that made you go ‘wtf was that’.

un chien andalou, requiem for a dream and mothlight. the first two because they’re fucking disturbing, the last one because its just close ups of parts of moths and i had to watch it for a film paper. it’s a no from me.

a film that scarred you.

the mummy. the beetle under the skin gave me nightmares and i haven’t been able to watch it since.

most movies watched in a single day.

i havent’t taken notes, but i did watch all of the mcu movies with cap in them recently in a day?

a film that always makes you cry.

coco. i’ve yet to make it through without having a full on mental breakdown for the last third of that movie. also marley and me because doggos. and the last part of mamma mia: here we go again. and philadelphia. the take away from this answer is that i cry a lot in movies.

a film that always makes you laugh.

hot fuzz. in my first flat we watched it nearly everyday for like two weeks when we all moved in and watching it makes me think of how much we all laughed and quoted it to one another.

movies that you think everyone should watch (not necessarily your favorites).

get out, psycho, star wars, at least one classic film noir, arrival, the cornetto trilogy, back to the future. there’s more but i think this is a good starter for what i at least find to be important viewing.

a movie that took you a couple of viewings to appreciate.

honestly probably the lord of the rings. they didn’t really click with me until high school, and then they really really clicked. also fight club i guess; the second time around watching it, i got the toxic masculinity themes more. it sucks that men read that movie as the exact opposite.

a book you want to see adapted to the big screen.

i believe i already answered this here!

a book you really, really, really don’t want to see made into a film.

does jk rowling’s twitter count? i want to see nothing more from the harry potter universe that she has had anything to do with.

favorite child performance.

the kids in the goonies and it 2017 come to mind. let kids act like kids!!!

favorite pre-code.

mate, you are making the assumption that i remember enough of the old films i studied in my degree, and that i remember the pre-code dates. i’m sure i have one, but that is buried far too deep in my brain to actually remember.

Favorite silent film.

i really enjoyed the buster keaton stuff we watched when i did my history of film paper.

favorite coming of age film.

boyhood, love simon, the edge of seventeen, my girl (i’ll be honest, i just googled coming of age movies and picked my faves from the top results. doesn’t mean i don’t stand by these!!)

favorite superhero film.

captain america: the winter soldier, spiderman: into the spiderverse, black panther and the dark knight rises.

best cinematography.

i still really like her and wes anderson for their cinematography.

movies you know you should watch, but can’t bring yourself to do it?

so fucking many, my dude. the amount of movies i wrote essays about when i had watched maybe three scenes and read the synopsis is insane. after getting a degree in it, and with how burned out i got, i found it very hard to give a shit about classics that lecturers told me were important. the big one is the godfather; it’ll be a cold day in hell when i finally watch that one.

favorite genres.

i’m a sucker for anything romantic. also film noir, superheroes, animated, female-led, stuff set in the 80s, lgbt film (that isn’t gross and exploitative), comedy horrors. idk man, it’s hard to describe.

least favorite genres.

dull as fuck period pieces that say approximately nothing new and hash out the same old tired shit about treatment of poc and/or women. comedies in the same vein of austin powers, napoleon dynamite and sasha baron cohen stuff. white feminist narratives. anything that is shitty about fat women.

biggest movie pet peeve.

dark for no fucking reason!!! let films be bright and happy!!! ya girl hates having to strain her eyes to see what the heck is going on.

#answered #anonymous

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iris-writes-things · 5 years

Text

Two Guys and a Baby: Day 1 part 1

Read on AO3, FF.net or under the cut, or read up to 2 chapters ahead as a $1 Patreon patron!

“I thought you had a babysitter!” “I thought so too! But now she’s off to Cambodia for half a year to rediscover herself after a particularly bad break up… I’m sorry, but you’re really my only hope.”

Or, Crowley enlists an old friend to help him look after his boss' baby while she's away for two weeks, and learns a thing or two about himself and the other along the way.

Chapter 1 of 20 Ongoing 1989 words Romance/Humor

Dramatis Personae:

Anthony “Anton”/”uncle Tony” Crowley (An artist turned marketing assistant)

Lucy Ferguson (Crowley’s boss, too perfect for this world)

Adam Ferguson-Zabielski (Son of Lucy, shatterer of eardrums, soiler of diapers. Like his mother, too perfect for this world)

Anathema Device (Crowley’s niece, sassy teen)

Ezra “Aziraphale” Fell (Local bookshopkeeper, historical non-fiction author and former employee at a local daycare)

It was a nice, warm morning in the middle of March and life was good. Winter had come to an end, and spring was finally starting to set in. Young leaves and blooms were starting to grow in the trees and shrubs in the park across from Crowley’s Mayfair apartment. It was so warm, in fact, that Anthony J "usually-so-cold-he-should-probably-get-himself-checked-out" Crowley ventured to work without his coat and with a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, ever the optimist.

On his way to work, the marketing department at the global headquarters of a European multinational, he stopped by a coffee shop, greeted the barista, and ordered a latte for himself and for his boss before continuing on his way.

His boss, Lucy, had been a classmate of his in primary school. He had some fond memories of her. But after primary school, their friendship faded. Where Crowley failed classes left and right and was set back several years, Lucy flourished in school and exceeded every expectation. Where Crowley decided to go into the arts, Lucy studied marketing and management. And where Crowley lived alone with barely a social life to speak of, Lucy had a fiancé, a son and a seemingly endless stream of friends on top of her job.

How she did it, he had no idea. But he somehow ended up being her assistant.

“Mr. Crowley, so glad you decided to join us.” Lucy flashed a devilish smile as she snatched one of the paper cups out of the carton the very second he came out of the elevator. Her caramel brown hair was done up in a neat bun, as per usual, and her black pantsuit looked stunning on her, as always.

“Good morning to you too, Lucy.”

“Ms. Ferguson,” Lucy corrected. “I know you mean well, but someone’s gotta show these sharks who’s boss. Besides, I don’t go around calling you Anton, do I?”

“Yes ma’am,” Crowley said. He mocked a salute as he followed her into her office.

'Anton' was what Lucy had called him upon their first meeting one fateful day in the schoolyard, and it stuck to him ever since. He couldn’t blame another six year old for refusing to even try and pronounce ‘Anthony’. Especially when the man himself spoke with a lisp back then.

“Anything I can do for you?” He asked before finally taking a sip of his coffee.

“Well, there is one thing…” Lucy— ms. Ferguson said. “It’s not exactly work-related, but I’m not sure there’s anyone else in the world I would trust with the task.”

This piqued Crowley’s attention. A single brow raised over the rims of the sunglasses he had ‘forgotten’ to take off.

“You know how… particular I can be with Adam’s care, right?”

Oh, Crowley knew. The last year and nine months had been an Experience, so to speak. Every day, Lucy had regaled to Crowley the many things she read in books and on websites about parenting. Once the boy was finally there, she had laid down the law for everyone. Fiancés, grandparents, friends and babysitters alike. She was strict about it, but Adam seemed to be happy and healthy. But that was Lucy: strict, diligent, and always yielding the best results.

“Yes,” Crowley tried simply, motioning for her to continue.

“I’m about to offer you two weeks out of the office. All expenses covered. On the condition that you look after Adam while Belle and I are on our vacation.”

As if they had become sentient with a sense for comedic timing, Crowley’s sunglasses slid down his nose.

“What?”

“Anton, please.”

“I thought you had a babysitter!”

“I thought so too! But now she’s off to Cambodia for half a year to rediscover herself after a particularly bad break up…” Lucy let herself fall into her office chair with an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry, but you’re really my only hope. Belle is so looking forward to this trip to Croatia, I don’t want to have to tell her that we have to cancel.”

Crowley thought it over for a second. Deep down, he knew he had already decided, but caring for his obscene amount of houseplants proved to be a challenge on its own. Was taking care of a human baby really a good idea?

Then again, this was Lucy. Surely she would provide clearer instructions to take care of Adam than the regular garden center would provide for a ficus. He pouted and bit the inside of his cheeks some more before finally speaking up.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” he mumbled.

“You’re a lifesaver!” Lucy said as she clasped her hands together. “I’ll pack a bag with everything he needs and print you some instructions. Our plane leaves at three, so if you could come pick up Adam at my place at around nine in the morning, that would be ideal.”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure. I can do that,” Crowley said as he tried not to imagine an instruction book the size of a George R. R. Martin novel, peppered with fine print, brightly coloured post-its and a footnote here and there. “Tomorrow at nine. Absolutely.” He whipped out his phone to set his alarms accordingly with a quick note to ‘PICK UP LUCY’S BABY’. Crowley was not used to having to be places at nine on a Saturday, but he liked to think he could do it with the right precautions.

“Again, I can’t thank you enough for this.

“Hey, no, really, it’s fine. You work really hard. You deserve a nice vacation.”

Lucy smiled. “That’s really sweet of you. So, the deeds of the day?”

“Oh! Right, deeds. There’s some calls that came in after you left yesterday, I put a list of those on your desk and…”

It was Saturday, ten in the morning, and Crowley was sitting on a bench in the park across the street from his apartment. The sound of the children playing football behind him, using water bottles as improvised goalposts filled his ears. The pram containing Adam, who was covered in a reasonable amount of sunblock for the time of year, was parked securely next to him. He tried to relax and soak up some much needed sunshine, but instead he ground his teeth as he pondered for a while whether or not to also put his sunglasses on the toddler to shield his eyes.

Crowley noticed Lucy had packed the kid red and white striped pyjamas. He had briefly toyed with the idea of asking her whether or not he looked like the Goblin King to her, but quickly decided against it. He knew what Lucy was like when she was stressed, and joking about 80s movies in that situation would not have been the best idea.

He fidgeted with his fingers and ground his teeth some more. He didn't know the first thing about caring for a baby. He didn't know what the right temperature for a jar of mashed vegetables felt like. He didn't know how fast his patience might run out without a smoke every once in a while. He leaned his head backwards and let out an exasperated groan. Two weeks of not smoking. How had he ever agreed to this?

He gave Adam a quick glance to make sure he was entertained with his rattling teddy bear before getting out his phone, scroll through the letter A in his contacts and dial the expert.

"Hey Anathema, how are you doing?" Crowley asked, putting on his best customer service voice. He practically heard the teen's mood drop.

"Need me to help you hide another body, uncle Tony?" Anathema asked, all business. "Proverbially, of course."

"Not quite..." He said, slowly phasing the artificial sweetener out of his tone. Anathema had the best bullshit radar in the family and it must have been blaring at full power. "You still babysit, right?"

"What do you need a babysitter for?" Anathema pushed.

"Yesterday I promised my boss I would watch her baby while she's away for two weeks. And today I'm realizing I haven't the slightest idea what I'm doing."

"And now you want me to look after your boss' baby so you can take all the credit when she comes home?"

"If that's within the realm of possibility, yes."

"Uncle Tony, I have classes to go to and finals to study for. Why don't you ask that friend of yours you had a crush on? The one with the bookshop. Whatshisface. It's on the tip of my tongue."

Crowley winced when he came to the conclusion, "Ezra? I haven't talked to him in months."

"Well, you best start talking to him again. He said that before he had his bookshop, he had a job at a daycare."

"When did he tell you that?"

"When I was seven and you took me to the park by his shop every weekend so you could admire him from afar. This one time you finally built up the courage to take me into his shop with the promise of a new book, which you never got me by the way, you two got talking and he just casually dropped it into the conversation. But then again, you might have been so nervous it went right over your head."

"Yeah, that might have been it," Crowley admitted more to himself than to his niece. "I'll give him a call. You're my hero, Anathema."

"I know," the girl said. Crowley could hear the smug smirk on her face on the other end of the line. "You can call me for some quick advice, but please know that I'm going to be busy."

"Gotcha. I'll talk to you later then. Tell your mum I said hi."

"Will do. See ya."

"Right. See ya," and he ended the call. He went back into his contacts and scrolled down to the letter E. However, he was so preoccupied with his phone that he didn’t notice something, or rather someone, leaning over the backrest of the bench.

“You called?” Ezra Fell, local bookshop keeper and historical non-fiction* author ‘Aziraphale’, asked with a satisfied smirk on his face.

(*This was a point of contention between Ezra and his literary agent. Where Ezra didn’t feel comfortable calling his books historical “non-fiction”. His novels were, after all, primarily based on vague records and nearly non-existent witness accounts. However, his agent insisted on the label, since, according to them, the very label itself would sell more copies.)

Crowley flinched, but didn’t shriek. Not even a little bit. Not if you asked him, at least. “What are you doing here?!”

“Just feeding the ducks some old oats when I heard a familiar voice say my name, so I decided to investigate,” the man said as he walked around the bench to sit down next to Crowley. “Did you know bread is actually really bad for ducks?”

“No,” Crowley said simply, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“So, what about the baby? Did I miss something big?” Ezra asked as he tossed some oats to the ground. Ducks came rushing from the pond and Adam giggled at the sight of the waddling birds. "I mean, I'd assume you'd let me know if you had a baby, somehow."

“My boss took her fiancé on a vacation to Croatia, she’s probably going to propose, so I’m looking after their son until they come home.”

“Since when do you know anything about taking care of a baby?”

“I don’t. I’m just generally very good at following her very particular instructions,” Crowley said as he produced a stack of instructions from a bright blue diaper bag, roughly the size of The Fellowship Of The Ring. “That and she trusts me, I guess. I was actually hoping you could help me with these.”

A small ‘my goodness’ escaped Ezra as he eyed the stack of loose pages. “That’s all for him?” He asked, pointing at Adam.

“Look out, mister!” A young voice called from behind them, but Crowley paid it no mind.

“It is, trust me. It’s—” Crowley bit his tongue as a football hit him in the back of the head, knocking his shades off his face and the pages out of his hand. As luck would have it, a breeze picked up, carrying the pages away from them and into the duck pond.

Adam giggled and clapped his tiny hands.

“Oh dear…”

“Fuck me…”

#fanfic #Good Omens #Ineffable Husbands #human AU

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apapachoazul · 3 years

Text

Day 119 - 14/01/2021

A typical day

When someone asks me “what do you work” I somehow always feel like I need to say “I don’t work right now”. I guess I feel like that’s the correct response because I am not hired by anyone and I don’t have work that pays. But to say that “I don’t work” or “I don’t have a job” right now couldn’t be further from the truth... And today was one of those days again where it became very clear to me that I do indeed *work*. I sat in front of the computer all day and took care of various things... so probably more for my reference rather than anybody else’s I thought I’ll share what a rather typical day of work looks like for me right now.

6.30 Cat woke me up 7.30 Slowly started to get ready to get up 7.50 Made coffee 8.00 My Mum texted me that a colleague of her husband died of COVID the night before. So I spoke to her for a while. 8.30 Checked my emails and was happy to see that I had received a response from the Finnish tax authorities. I had contacted them a few days earlier in regards to the sale of my apartment in Helsinki last year because I figured I still need to pay taxes for that. But since I don’t have a Finnish bank account anymore, I can not access the online tax service anymore and so I needed to email them... Luckily Finns are awesome and they responded really quickly and sent me instructions what to do. 8.40 I downloaded the form they told me to fill and started working on it. It required me to dig up all sorts of bank statements and other papers from way back in 2018… In the end I wasn’t sure how to correctly fill the form so I only did it half way through and then sent it via email to a friend in Finland asking for help. 8.50 texted my friend who is ill from COVID if I should bring her some soup

8.55 texted Erick to tell him I needed to talk to him and asked if he could come by my house today (will explain later)

9.00 received a revised version of the “tiny houses” from the architect of the construction company in Sayulita - revised it but didn’t like it so I started drafting a response to him giving him honest feedback

The first image is their initial proposal and the second image the revised option.

9.30 Texted my architect friend to see when he has time to talk to me as we agreed to speak this morning

10.00 Received a text from my friend asking when I’m gonna be at the house today. She wanted to buy some of the old furniture I found in the house. I told her that I revised the furniture yesterday and that I’m not planning on selling any at this point cause I might need them myself in the future

10:15 got a voice message from my architect friend asking for some clarification - some back and forth and eventually spoke on the phone briefly. I was happy to hear that he thought I was making some wise decisions with the latest layout but that he suggests I forget about the idea of a second floor because the cost are not in relation to the benefit I get from it. He also said by not building a second floor I only need to get a “renovation permit” and not a “construction” permit and that that is much easier to get. It actually made a lot of sense to me and we agreed to trash the idea.

10.45 briefly revised the sketches I made and sent them to my friend

11.00 Made breakfast

11.30 Erick came by my house and we spoke for around 30min - I spoke to him about a job offer. I told him that I’m looking for a “right hand” and that I can not offer him a grand salary right now but that I’m willing to offer him a “future” to grow with me and my business. He seemed exited.

12:14 Sent a text to my notary asking what’s up with the RNIE fine I’m supposed to pay and if there’s anything I can do to fight their decision

12:15 Sent feedback to the architect whose design I didn’t like

12:16 Sent a message to my friend Santana asking for recommendation for anti-termite treatment for the old furniture I’m planning to refurbish

12:30 my notary responded saying that she’s out of office for health reasons but that her colleague is taking care of the RNIE situation and that she’ll inform me when she knows more

12.50 Sent the same feedback to the architects boss telling him that we’re not gonna end up working together on this project at least not for now

13.30 Had a really great Zoom call with a good old friend of mine from Germany.

14.45 saw a post on Facebook by someone in the local group that property taxes (predial) are due to being paid and realised that that’s probably something I need to pay as well. So I started researching (aka googling) a bit and then thought about who might know about this that I could could... 15.10 texted my friend Carlos who is Mexican and has also purchased some property in town and asked him about the predial - he checked with his mum and told me about the place I need to go pay 15:30 decided to still text my contact Chava and see if he knows if 2020 is paid already, he said 2020 is paid but I need to pay for 2021 and I need to do it now in January to get a discount 15.45 went back to the Facebook post since someone had mentioned they paid it online. Found the link and investigated. It indeed seemed like one can pay online and gets a discount so I tried to just pay it right away instead of going to their office in Bucerias - however after 2 failed attempts I gave up. The payment was rejected.

16:20 received a message from my accountant telling me that they finally arranged a meeting for me with SAT (tax office) - unfortunately the appointment they scheduled is in Tepic which is 2h away from where I live and I had asked them to book it in the town that is only 1h away from me. Also the date they booked does not work for me as it’s the day the construction of the roof starts and I need to be at the house that day.

16:30 Texted my bank lady asking why I can’t pay online with the company credit card 16:45 She replied that she first needs to unlock my cc so I can make payments online and asked me to send her the cc number which I did right away 17.00 Realized that I was starving and decided to driver over to San Pancho to buy dinner and bring some soup to my friend. 17.30 Received a message from my bank lady that as of tomorrow I can use my credit card to make online purchases 17.40 Received a message from my accountant asking if she can call me. I asked her to call me tomorrow

19.00 Got back home, made some tea and started watching Netflix 22.30 Started writing this blog post

#typicalday #dayinparadise #entrepreneurlife #selfmade #randomtasks

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sugdenlovesdingle · 6 years

Text

ok. so. my mum has a friend (sort of - he’s a sort of volunteer from some sort of organisation) that she plays scrabble with. he comes to our house to play a game with her every now and then. which is fine, saves me from having to play a game i loathe... the only problem is that the guy is awkward as FUCK. He has NO IDEA how to behave towards dogs (which is a big big negative in my books) even after a few years of coming here... but lately he keeps bringing ME fancy chocolate, kept pestering my mum on when my birthday party would be (I told her to tell him i wasn’t having a party because i did NOT want him there) and kept fishing for an invite... and a few weeks ago he brought me (ME, not my mum, ME) some newspapers that I flick through sometimes when I get a free trial subscription but not actually actively buy/read... and now he keeps doing that... which is just weird.

yesterday he was here again, gave me a stack of papers (from November - and they hadn’t even been read!) AND fancy chocolate... I just said thanks and put it aside cos I was in the middle of something... but then later I looked at the bag and saw it was fancy chocolate from a store in GHENT (as in the city in Belgium). When he gave me the bag he said “I was in the city and bought you some chocolate” yeah the city of GHENT! Apparently he was on a trip to Ghent, thought of me and bought fancy chocolate. He gave me a fancy chocolate letter for sinterklaas (Dutch holiday) which means he’d been shopping and thought of me and bought that chocolate letter. He gave me 10 euro for my birthday last week (i accepted it cos fuck it, we’re poor) even though as far as he knows, i didn’t even celebrate it...

He keeps trying to invite himself to lunch with me and my mum. I had vouchers to spend at local businesses and my mum told him once that her and me wanted to use them to go for lunch at some fancy restaurant in town... and he kept trying to figure out when we were going to use them and get himself invited.

I’m seriously creeped out by the guy. he’s in his 50s, he could be my DAD. I tried talking about it with my mum and my cousins but they all only joke about it. My cousins said I got myself a sugar daddy and my mum is all “are you scared of him? do you think he’ll become dangerous? he’s harmless. he just likes you.”

me “What if I’d been 13 instead of 31? Would you still say it’s a crush, it happens, you don’t have to marry him.”

mum: “no of course not.”

me “Then what’s the fucking difference?”

mum “well you’re not 13 are you?”

me “no but I’m fucking uncomfortable in my own home when that creep invites himself over! (he’ll call my mum and ask to come play a game but he doesn’t give a fuck about the game or my mum)

mum *annoyed* ‘well i’ll keep him away for a while then. he’s moving anyway so he won’t have time to come round for a while.”

So now I’m the bad guy for being creeped out by her ‘friend’ constantly buying me presents when it’s harmless and I’m 31 and I don’t have to marry him.

I’m *this* close to ‘accidentally’ letting slip next time he’s around that I’m a lesbian (i’m bi but he doesn’t have to know that).

#ramblings #life and stuff #rant #why do men suck so much??

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dustin-parrish-blog · 7 years

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Small Matters | Dustin & Lea

Dustin has something to share with his sister.

For all she didn't always love spending time with her brother, Lea did feel a bit excited about getting to go out and garden today. Her butterfly bush wasn't set to bloom just yet, but she could check on it, and also help get the rest of the garden ready for spring and summer. She finished pulling on her blue high top Converse before yelling up the stairs, "Dustin, get down here, too much screentime'll kill even more brain cells, you know! Mum's already waiting outside for us!"

With a loud groan, Dustin shut his laptop, wondering briefly if there was any use in making up a sudden test that he had to study for but no, that way he would be forced to actually study all week. Or, he could come up with a sudden sun allergy. Maybe he'd been bitten by a vampire recently. Yes, that was perfect. Laura Parrish totally would not panic at all at that and let him browse the internet on his bed in peace. "Coming!" he yelled back as he eventually got up from his bed and made his way towards the stairs. "Also Lea, that is just stupid, almost everyone uses screens these days all day. And we haven't suddenly become stupid, have we? Besides, I'm not sure that would have an effect on my brain at all, I can already feel my brain cells slowly dying off having to hear the stuff that comes out of your mouth each day..."

Lea raised an eyebrow as Dustin arrived at the top of the stairs. "It is not stupid, it's a true fact and I know that, dumb-ass. I use a screen too, obviously. I'm just saying that you could use some more outdoors time, it's not gonna hurt you too much and oh, wow, good one! How long did it take you to think of that comeback?" She rolled her eyes and held up a pair of sneakers before tossing them to the bottom of the stairs. "Now! We're already late."

"Yeah, you do, I'd like to see you go one day without your phone," Dustin muttered as he reluctantly came down the stairs. There were so many better things he could do than spend time with his sister and his mother in the garden. Even homework would probably be more fun. "I spend plenty of time outdoors!" came his reply, rolling his eyes. He did! He walked or biked to school and drove his bike to places he wanted to go to. Oh, and he had recently been at the bonfire at the beach all evening. Grabbing his shoes, he put them on before making his way towards the door letting to the back of their property. "How can we be late to plucking weeds in our own garden?"

Rolling her eyes, Lea crossed her arms and looked up at Dustin. "Yeah, but I talk to my friends via my phone. It is a necessary mode of communication, and besides, I also spend time outside all the time, so at least I've got a proper balance, unlike some of us." She trailed after Dustin as he headed to the back door. "Because, dear brother, even in our own house we can have plans, and those plans can have set times. Just like you can be late to dinner, you can be late to plucking weeds and getting our garden all set for the coming seasons."

"I also talk to my friends," Dustin huffed as he opened the door and stepped outside. Cold air attacked him as soon as he set foot into the garden. Or well, maybe it wasn't that cold, but it was definitely not as warm as his room, which he'd been heating so it was full of warm, stuffy air. "Yeah no, that makes no sense," he just told Lea, when Laura Parrish spotted them, kneeling over a flower bed. Or vegetable bed. He couldn't exactly tell. "Come on, you two, grab a bucket and help get rid of all the weeds!" she instructed them, a smile appearing on her face. "Hey munchkin, I see you made it outside! That's great- no, don't pull that face, this is fun."

Lea raised an eyebrow at her brother. "Uh-huh, sure." She followed him outside, running a hand through her hair and twirling the ends. She breathed in the scent of the air, wrapping her arms slightly around her body - despite wearing tights under her jean shorts and a long sleeved shirt, she did still feel the chill of the Maine spring. But she unwrapped her arms from her body as their mother gave the both of them a wave. She hop-skipped over to where Laura stood and grabbed a bucket, quirking her lip as she did so and replying, "Yes, all thanks to me. Otherwise he'd still be stuck upstairs in, like, some virtual reality or whatever." She raised an eyebrow as their mother placed a gloved hand on her calf and said, "Lea, let's all enjoy this time, no matter how we ended up out here, alright?" With a small huff and a rolling of her eyes, Lea gave a nod. "Fine, fair enough." A glance over to Dustin. "So long as he agrees, too."

Dustin did not, in fact, stop pulling that face. If he was forced to go outside into their garden to pluck weeds, fine, he would go out and help, but he didn’t have to look happy doing so. Who knew how long this was going to take and how long he would be forced to be civil to his sister under his mother’s supervision. Virtual reality? Did Lea know nothing about the Internet? “Yes, just because I’m googling something definitely means my brain enters another reality,” he replied and rolled his eyes. When his mother basically reprimanded Lea to be nice, Dustin couldn’t help but smirk, but quickly changed his face back to normal as soon as Laura Parrish turned her head back to him. “I’m being perfectly nice, and I’m all for enjoying this wonderful time together!” Dustin quickly replied, just a small hint of sarcasm in his voice as he grabbed one of the buckets and kneeled down.

Lea gave another small huff. "I thought you were playing a video game, I do know what google is. I use it to find good academic articles when I wanna write papers for, like, history class. Have you heard of JSTOR? It's great." She knelt down next to their mother and began tugging a few weeds out of the ground, letting her hair fall over her shoulders. She threw the weeds into one of the buckets and gave her mother a small kiss on the cheek, before readjusting herself but not before she gave Dustin a small face - one that she knew their mother couldn't see. "Hey, I'm glad the weather worked out, I'm real excited to see how the garden turns out this year! It'll be the second year with my butterfly bush, I hope it'll bloom again."

"Yeah, I have heard of JSTOR, I'm not stupid, Lea," Dustin replied, mouthing 'unlike you' so quietly that his mother definitely wouldn't hear it. He started plucking out a few weeds. Or, he hoped they were weeds and not the plants they had put in the dirt on purpose. "Also, I'm sure you use google for other stuff, too. Like, how to make friends when you're ugly or-" "Dustin!" Laura Parrish gave her son a stern look. "I don't want to hear anymore of this, do you hear me? Or you'll have to get all of the weeds from the other side of the house completely on your own, and I don't care how long that takes you, you will not be able to see your friends before you finish the task. Or, you could just apologise to your sister now. The choice seems rather simple to me." With a sigh, she turned back to the task at hand. "Oh, I'm very excited, too, I've got some great additions planned and we'll grow plenty more herbs and possibly a few more fruits ourselves. Some fruits from the store just never taste like they do when you grow them yourself."

"Well, I am sorry. I did not know and I thought it a good sort of site to mention. It's good to get the best sources possible when writing papers." Lea commented, sticking out her tongue at Dustin, still hidden from their mother. As their mother admonished Dustin she kept her face facing the ground, a smirk threatening to creep across her lips. Well, things did come around, and Dustin did deserve that reminder. She had plenty of friends, after all. His statement wasn't even sort of true. "Ooh, you are so right. Plus, there's just something extra nice about growing stuff all on your own. Gives you a certain sense of accomplishment." She grinned up at their mother as she pulled up a few more weeds. "You are right, Lea." Laura replied, turning to Dustin. "What would you think about my making extra-locally grown fruit salad this summer?"

"Oh, I didn't discover that website for school work," Dustin said, shaking his head. "I just think they have interesting articles in general. People can be interested in stuff even if it won't get them a good grade," he told her, pulling a face at her when she stuck her tongue out at him. "I'm really sorry I said you were ugly," he mumbled finally, ripping a few green plants out at the same time and dropping them in the bucket. There was a high chance those had been weeds. "I think I'd probably try that, yeah," Dustin told his mother. At least fruits where somewhat sweet. Though he wondered if their own fruits from the garden would look just as good as the ones they could buy at the supermarket. Since those came from actual farmers, who probably knew exactly what they were doing. Laura turned to her daughter, observing her pluck a couple of weeds from the ground. "I think you've got this covered," she said, as she rose to her feet. "In the meantime, I'm going to put more seeds on the lawn, it's time we get a nice, full green lawn again. Please down kill each other. I'm still close enough I can hear all attempts of murder."

Lea sighed. "I know, I like the articles in general, too. Just yesterday I was reading one about the history of... whatever, anyhow, not the present point at hand." She grinned when Dustin apologized. "Thank you Dustin, and mum, I'd try that too. Especially if we maybe try out a solid berry one? We can see how the fruits we grow work out, though." She watched as their mother got up, giving her a small wave. "Don't worry, I know I've got this for sure!" She waited until Laura was out of earshot before turning to Dustin. "Don't bug me, I want to do a good job of this. I care about how our house looks, and I want to give the plants the best space to grow, okay?"

Dustin stared at his sister for a few seconds, not sure what to even say to that. He'd been so sure that Lea was just pretending to be so into this to suck it up to their mum that he never considered the possibility that she actually cared about plucking weeds and planting berry bushes. "Are you actually serious?" he asked her, his voice incredulous. "Who even cares- you know if we don't do a good job of this, mum will make it look good anyway. And I don't think the plants care about weeds anyway," he said, flicking a piece of weeds at her. "You're so weird sometimes, I can't believe you're not adopted."

Lea looked straight back at Dustin. "Yes, I am, as a matter of fact. It might be boring as hell sometimes, but it is important to help out in the house's upkeep, and I know mum'll make it look perfect if we don't do the best job we can, but she works really hard, Dustin. She shouldn't have to do that." She glared at him as he flicked some weeds at her. "Yeah, well, I'm not, jerk," she said, flicking a few of her weeds over to Dustin. "Also weeds can sometimes kill plants, or at least impede their growth. Maybe you should ask mum if you can make a weed garden or something if you're so into them."

Dustin shrugged. "I just think that a garden can look good even if it's a little messy," he said. "That could give it charm, actually. As long as it's green, who cares if the plants were originally supposed to grow?" Still, he plucked out another couple weeds, before throwing both them and the ones that Lea had flicked at him back at her head. "Well, I wasn't there when mum supposedly gave birth to you, so I'm just going to pretend that you were switched at birth because that means we're not actually related," he said, shifting a little to be more comfortable kneeling over the flower bed. "And sure, I will ask her if I can grow a weed garden. I might actually make a huge income with that if I sell the weed at school. I'm sure she'll say yes."

Lea rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, you would. I've seen your room." She blew a few strands of hair out of her face. "Because gardens should look nice and not just be all green, jeez." She ducked and grabbed the weeds, throwing them forcefully into the bucket. "Not switched at birth, Dustin, plus I don't think that's even all too common and I look like mum, so ha!" She pushed herself off the ground and went over to Dustin at his next comment. "Not that type of weed, oh my god." She picked up a stray gardening glove and whacked him on the shoulder before going to kneel back down. "I meant like these." She held up a plant. "Plants that can impede the growth of other plants. Not drugs, or I'm telling on you."

"My room isn't messy! It's just homey," Dustin protested. "And I think that gardens that are super orderly and perfect look stuck-up, sorry. So maybe that is why you like them so much," he told her and despite his words plucked out a couple more weeds. This was boring. Why couldn't he go back inside? But his mother would definitely notice it if he snuck back inside and let Lea happily do this boring work on her own. "You can't know for a fact that you aren't, and maybe you just look like her by chance." He was just minding his own business, plucking out another plant that he wasn't sure was a weed, when suddenly his sister came over to whack him on the shoulder with a glove. "Ow!" he said loudly and rubbed at his shoulder, glaring at her. "What, would you tell on me if I was selling weed to the other students at school or if I ever smoked some?"

Lea have a small sigh. "Oh, that's what you're calling it?" She let a bemused look cross her face as Dustin continued to weed the garden, despite still complaining. "Yeah, well same goes for you, then! You could've been switched as well, you know." She giggled when he exclaimed out loud. "Serves you right, y'know. Also yes, you should not do illegal activities like that, and also why would you smoke some? It smells soooo bad, ew!" Lea said, making a small gagging face.

“Yes, that’s what I’m calling it, because that’s what it is.” Dustin’s room had lots of stuff in it, that’s what made it so comfy and nice. Not everything had to be perfectly orderly to look good, not all close had to be hung up in his wardrobe and not every book had to be in the bookshelf and it was also perfectly fine that a couple of papers were flying around. “I kind of wish I was switched at birth, then I could live with my real parents and I wouldn’t have to see you again.” He dropped his hand from his own shoulder, raising an eyebrow at her. “Me and illegal activities? Never.” If you didn’t count underage drinking, breaking and entering and illegal streaming, he’d actually never done anything illegal before in his life. “I think it’s kind of obvious why people would smoke it, Lea. But thanks for letting me know you hate the smell, I’ll make sure to smoke it in your bedroom if I ever do.” Maybe he should ask Quinn if he wanted to try it. Even though he had no clue who even to get weed from, but that couldn’t be so hard to figure out, could it?

"Fine, sure, whatever." She replied brusquely. It wasn't Lea's fault that she liked order, liked making sure that her room looked nice and presentable. Drawers for set items, a roughly color-coded set of bookshelves (which certainly took some effort but was well worth it in the end). "Yeah, but if you'd been switched you'd still be with me, so sorry, you're stuck with me for life, no take-backs no matter what." She beamed over at Dustin before throwing a few more weeds into the bin. "Okaaaay, well, if you've never done anything illegal I see utterly no point in starting up on them. Even you have to be smart enough to realize that, right?" She wrinkled her nose. "Smoke it in my room and I'll find a curse that turns all your clothing hot neon pink or maybe one that makes you smell like my peach or apple or strawberry perfume." She hissed, narrowing her eyes.

“Fuck my life,” Dustin muttered as he kept on plucking out weeds. “Maybe I want my clothes to be that colour, have you considered that?” He gave her a look. “Men can wear pink, it doesn’t make them gay or anything…” He threw a couple of weeds into the bucket. Okay, maybe he didn’t even own any pink clothes so Lea kind of had a point. “And maybe I want to smell like a fucking fruit salad, okay? You know my life.” He didn’t want to. “But yeah, if I’m going to smoke it, I’m going to do it in your room. So you’ll get in trou-“ “What are you two talking about?” came the voice of his mother from behind him. Dustin nearly pushed over the bucket. “Taylor Swift,” he said quickly, eyes darting to his sister, warning her to keep quiet and go with it. “Well,” Laura said. “I just got called in to work. Nadine called in sick so I’ll have to take her shift. Your dad make dinner tonight. Oh, and please, I put new seeds for the lawn, the two of you will need to water it so they can grow.” She leaned down to press a small kiss to the top of Lea’s head before ruffling through Dustin’s hair.

Lea shrugged. "I know, pink actually used to be more stereotypically a boy's color before it became a more stereotypically girl's color. It's derived from red, which was considered a stronger color and therefore more suitable for boys. Also I know it doesn't make you gay, Dustin! Clothing doesn't do that, it's a natural thing from birth, or whatever." She tossed some of her hair over her shoulder. "But I do know that there's no way wearing pink or smelling like my perfumes is something you'd be into." A small huff. "And you can't - " she began, talking partially over him before their mother came out and even Lea half-jumped. "Yeah-huh. I was telling Dustin aaaaall about her, and the evolution of her songs from more country to more pop." She narrowed her eyes over at Dustin. "I hope work goes well," Lea said, beaming up at Laura, "and of course we'll water the lawn. Don't you worry." In a few moments their mother was gone and Lea turned to Dustin. "You know mum and dad would never believe I'd smoke that shit. Your plan would neeeever work."

"I already knew all of that, Lea," Dustin just retorted as his sister told him about the history of the colour pink for boys. "And like, I don't get the whole stereotype that gay people like pink because gay people are also supposed to have a good sense of fashion and pink is clearly horrible, so." He picked at a few more weeds, watching his mother walk back inside the house to get ready for her shift. Thankfully she hadn't heard any of the conversation. He wasn't sure exactly where his mother stood on the issue of weed, but he doubted it was something she would be okay with in relation to her children. "Uh, yeah? I mean, obviously I wouldn't just smoke in your room and think that's it, no. Before, I'd drop hints that freshman girls were caught smoking in the girl's toilets at school. And maybe I'd drop the name of one of your friends. So then, if they smell it in your room, it becomes more believable. Also. I think I'm gonna get started on the watering the lawn part, you have fun making space for your plants."

"Hey, how was I supposed to know that you knew it? It's not something that everyone does know!" Lea grumbled. "Pink is not horrible, FYI. It's a lovely color, but I wouldn't expect you to know what's fashionable and what's not, sooo... also it's a stereotype for gay men, not gay women." She followed her brother's gaze towards their mother before snapping back and glaring at Dustin. "Right, and if they asked me about that I'd tell them that no, I've not heard of any reports of that and I don't know where you got it from. Also none of my friends would smoke weed, obviously." She half-hissed at Dustin. "Half of them don't even drink soda 'cause it's too bad for you. Have fun with the watering," she said, rolling her eyes. "Just keep it over there, I'm not ready for it just yet."

"I know what stuff looks good and what doesn't," Dustin protested, frowning. "Like, I dress myself and I don't look ridiculous. So there's your proof." He pushed himself off the ground. "Okay, but mum and dad might think you were just protecting your friends and I'm not sure they would know that your friends definitely wouldn't smoke," he said before walking over to the shed where they stored the water hose. After turning on the water, he held it out onto the lawn, making sure the grass and the new seeds were getting watered. Then he moved a little. Fuck. This was the most boring work ever. But it was still better than digging in the dirt to pluck weeds.

"I mean, I've seen people dress worse, but... I wouldn't say that means you're extra skilled or anything." Lea pursed her lips. "Well, don't do it or else I'll find some major way to retaliate. Don't doubt me, Dustin. You know I can." She grinned up at him before she went back to picking out the weeds. After a few more moments, most of them - if not all of them - seemed gone, and she made her way over to where Dustin stood with the hose. "Give it to me." She demanded, holding her hand out. "I need to make sure I get the dirt out from my nails." Lea raised an eyebrow. "Also see, isn't this nice? Being outdoors! It's so pretty out today!"

"Thank you," Dustin replied sarcastically. "I mean, I guess that means that I definitely couldn't be gay then," he said, before shrugging. "Oh yeah? What would you do?" he asked, before going back to watering the lawn while his sister was busy with the weeds. He looked up when he heard her approach him and asked him to give him the hose. "Oh, you want to get all the dirt?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Sure, I can do that." But instead of handing her the hose, he just held up, splashing water over her head and body. "I know, it's just beautiful! Hope it won't rain." He started laughing.

Lea rolled her eyes. "Sexuality is not tied to clothing, you know. You know Jenna's gay, right? She's super open and even has a girlfriend and she's never worn flannel in her life." She hummed briefly to herself. "Something unexpected. Still up for debate, and as if I'm gonna tell you. Nice try, though." When he sprayed her with the hose she spit out a bit of water. Okay, should have seen that coming. "Rain's good." She spat back, water dripping off of her hair and onto her nose. In a quick moment, she grabbed part of the hose and turned it back to Dustin, covering him in water. "Not that you need to get aaaaany taller, but hey, you said you wanted to keep weeds around, right? You need to water them to make them live."

Actually, Dustin hadn't know that Jenna was gay. From what he'd figured, freshman girls, which included Lea's friends, were completely obsessed with boys. And how was he even supposed to tell if the girls were dating when they always acted super close and affectionate anyways? It took him a little by surprise that Lea had a gay friend, although it wasn't very surprising that in theory, she was good with gay people. They had been raised like that after all. "You're not telling me because you don't know yet," he told her, and really, he should have held on more tightly to that hose and stopped Lea from grabbing it. When the ice cold water hit his face, he let out something that could only be classified as a very manly yelp. It wasn't summer after all, so this wasn't a nice and refreshing surprise - this was cold and wet and the exact opposite of nice. "I think humans usually ingest water by drinking it, not by diffusion through our skin," Dustin retorted, wiping a hand over his forehead to get the wet hair away from his eyes. Reaching out, he tried to grasp his sister's shoulders, wrangling her to try and push her to the ground which had turned a little muddy from all the water.

"I do know." Lea giggled. "But surprises can be good, plus, it'd be more fun for me." She paused, watching the water drench him. "Just. Like. That." She flicked her wet hair over her shoulders. "Nice yelp, by the way. Also I know humans ingest water by drinking it, but maybe you're like, part alien or something. It'd explain a whole lot." She wriggled out of his grasp as he tried to push her onto the ground. "Nice try, big brother, but looks like you didn't succeed. Oopsie daisy." She smirked up at him, brushing some hair out from her face. "Also you'd better not ruin this shirt, it's one of my favorites."

"You mean, it would explain why I am so exceptionally smart?" Dustin asked. A disappointed frown formed on his face when he didn't succeed in pushing her down into the mud. Damn. He would have loved to see that. "That is one of your favourite shirts? God, how horrible must the rest of them be then," he told her, starting to shiver a little. Pulling at the hose, he tried to direct it back so that it would drench her instead of him. "You look like you need the watering, dwarf, not me."

"Uh, no." Lea rolled her eyes again. "Absolutely positively not what I mean, at all." Her eyes narrowed briefly. "Wow, what an insult. Truly brilliant, one for the books - even!" She said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. However, Dustin did succeed in hitting her with water the next time she tried, and Lea coughed, spitting some of it out of her mouth. "I am perfectly happy with my size, thankyouverymuch," she said, running the words together. "Plus, I'd rather be tiny then some freakish giant."

"Haha. It was much better than your insults," Dustin replied, rolling his eyes at her. He had to grin when it turned out that he was successful getting her with the water hose again. "You look like a fucking fish," he informed her as she spit out some water, and then he started to laugh. "Oh, you're happy with your size? How can that be when you can't even reach high cabinets, Gimli?" With a glint in his eyes, he towered over her, hose in his hand, as he tried to stick the end of it down the back of her top.

"Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that, and who knows?! Maybe one day it'll come true." Lea crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow over at Dustin. "Also I like fish, and I know for a fact I do not look like one, but thanks anyhow! Dad got some new ones over at the aquarium." She brushed her fingers against her nose. "I have no idea who the hell Gimil is, and besides, I can climb to reach them or use a step stool. At least I don't have to duck to get through a doorframe." She sidestepped him and tried to grab the hose, in hopes of spraying him directly in the face.

"You like fish? Yeah, you keep telling yourself that you don't look like one," Dustin retorted and grinned. "You look like the ugliest fish I've ever seen. In fact, you totally look like a blobfish," he said. "And one day, I'm going to duct-tape you to a chair and make you watch all three Lord of the Rings movies. One after the other, with no break or mercy," he told her. "It will change your life." His plan to directly spray water down her back did not succeed, and instead he got a huge load of ice cold water spraying directly into his face, blinding him for a few moments. He spluttered a "fuck you", but then a plan formed in his head. Turning his body into the other direction, he started sprinting towards the back door of their house. With this head start, he was likely the first one inside their bathroom and therefore the first one who could get warm under the shower.

"I mean, they aren't my favorite animal, but I like them well enough." Lea cleared her throat. "Um, no. I do not look like one of those, thank you very much." Though soon enough he had moved beyond and she let out a sigh of exasperation. "Duct-taping me to a chair sounds really freaking painful, Dustin." She rolled her eyes. "Maaaaybe someday you'll get me to watch them, we'll see." She giggled as the water hit him in the face, but in the brief moment she'd lost focus Dustin had begun to run toward the house - Lea darted after him, ducking under his arm as he opened the door and moved so that she was standing right in front of the stairs, one hand on the railing and the other on the wall. "Nuh-uh, no way are you getting to shower first. You'll use up all the warm water and I'll have none left!"

Fuck, why did the backdoor take so long to open? The handle, again, was a bit stiff so it was difficult to get it down - and of course, just as Dustin had opened the door Lea had moved through it by going underneath his arm. Why the hell was she so fast?! He moved inside, towards the stairs, which she was practically guiding like a dragon was protecting its eggs. "Like you wouldn't do the exact same thing!" he retorted, darting forward and grasping her shoulders, trying to push her to the side so he could run up the stairs.

"Um, no, I would only use the allotted amount, thank you very much. Plus I actually have more hair than you do and I need to make sure it stays all nice." Lea smirked up at him, trying to wriggle out of his grasp but falling slightly against the stairs. Nothing too bad, though she did narrow her eyes. "That's not fair!" She pushed herself up and ran up the stairs after him, trying to make it to the bathroom door to block it.

"Yeah, well, and I have more skin than you in total since I am bigger than you," Dustin told her, letting out a triumphant laugh when she fell against the stairs. He started racing up the stairs, which truthfully wasn't that easy with heavy, wet clothes. He was still wearing shoes, and for a moment he feared about what his mother would say regarding the wet dirt inside the house and on the stairs, but that didn't matter now. What mattered was that Lea actually tried to get after him and block the door. This was the only bathroom they could use, since his parents would definitely notice if one of them took a shower inside their en-suite bathroom. He reached for her arm. "I swear, if you go in first, I'm going to set fire to your English homework," he threatened, though truth me told, that was a threat he would never go through with.

"Right, you're a giant." Lea giggled again. Once she'd made it up the stairs she crossed her arms in front of her chest, staring straight up at Dustin. "You better not, and if you did that I'd set fire to your PS4. Call it faulty mechanics and all that. Let. Me. Into. The. Bathroom." She reached her arm around and under Dustin's and undid the door, ducking again under her brother's arm to get into the bathroom. "Well, look at that. I win, sucks to be you." She smiled again before slamming the door shut.

Dustin rolled his eyes, like Lea would actually set fire to his PS4. Didn't she know how much that had cost? Determined to not let her into the bathroom, he gripped her tight, but somehow, she was able to open the door and sneak inside. Mouth open, he watched as the door was slammed shut in front of his nose. "Fuck you, Lea!" He yelled, slamming his fists against the door. "Fuck you!" He tried the door handle, but of course, the door was locked. His cold, wet clothes were clinging to him like a pair of second skin. "I will drip on everything you love!" he threatened through the door, before retreating, searching for somewhere to keep warm. After getting his phone from his own room he promptly sat down on Lea's bed, wrapping her blankets around his dripping body. This would serve her right.

"Right back atcha!" Lea replied as she turned the lock to fully close the door. She stripped out of her wet clothing and flung it on the floor, before turning up the shower so that it was very warm and stepping in, shouting to Dustin - "screw you, big brother, but I still won!" and smiled to herself, scrubbing her shampoo into her hair and making sure to use her favorite peach-scented body wash. She wasn't about to be so cruel as to totally use up all the hot water, but taking a little extra time couldn't hurt - especially since it was Dustin's fault that they were both soaked, wasn't it?

Not only was he freezing cold, shivering even though Dustin was wrapped in the blanket (it probably would have been a good idea to take off his wet clothes but he wasn't going to do that in her bed and if he went back to his own room instead of dripping on her bed that would be no fun) he was also quickly becoming very bored. Waiting for something was always annoying, and waiting to get out of his ice cold clothes and under the hot spray of his shower was excruciating. To pass his time, he took out his phone, starting to play a game but quickly getting bored of it. Then, he opened the gallery of pictures he'd taken. Most were completely random shots from outside, from his sister, there was even the shaky picture of that weird ghost, but then, yes. There were a couple of pictures he had taken of Quinn. One of them showed him right in the middle of the process of eating a pancake, it wasn't a flattering picture. What would Lea say if she saw that? Wait, would Lea think it was weird that he had pictures of Quinn on his phone? Lea had pictures of her friends, he knew that, but that felt different. Would Lea think something about the pictures of Quinn he had on his phone if she ever saw them? And what if she did, what if she figured it out, how would she react?

When Lea was four years old, she had decided that it was about time to move on from baths, as fun as they were, and have showers. Though being tiny and having a lot of water hit her head with great force had been a shock to start with, she quickly found that it was quite fun - and when their mother wouldn't allow Lea out in the pouring rain, she could always shower and style her hair in fun shapes with shampoo before rinsing it all out. Her rubber duck could come into the shower, too - back when she was little - and baths were too babyish, anyhow. Lea ran her hands through her hair, untangling it section by section, before rinsing out the shampoo and moving on to the conditioner - squeezing a decent amount into her palm and running it smoothly through her hair and ducking her head under the stream of warm water. She stepped out of the shower and wrapped her body with one of her giant fluffy green towels, expertly tying her hair up in a topknot under another, smaller towel.

Dustin was still moving through the pictures on his phone, but really, his mind was somewhere else. If he told her about Quinn and him, would she think that he was gay? Was he really gay? Maybe she knew something about that. She had gay friends, after all - okay, and that was another reason that maybe, he could tell her. Since she was clearly okay with her friend having a girlfriend maybe she would be okay with his thing, too. Of course, he couldn't be absolutely sure because it was always different when it was family. Always. Thumb hovering above the screen, which showed a picture of Quinn, smiling, looking up at him with a controller in his hand, he suddenly got the urge to tell her. The kiss, and everything else, how he felt about boys, or one boy - that was so far his most safely kept secret. He hadn't breathed a word to anyone. He hadn't had anyone react to it. And maybe it was time. Yes, he should tell Lea. He should tell Lea so she could tell him if this was okay, if this was really him.

Lea stepped out of her towel and grabbed her robe off of the hook on the back of the door. Towel still wrapped her hair and head, she exited the bathroom and turned toward her room. She turned the handle on the door and opened it, before looking up and straight at Dustin, sitting on her bed. "What the hell, Dustin?!" She said, her voice rising. "Get out of my room! I just washed those sheets and now I'm gonna have to get them all washed again!" Lea narrowed her eyes and stomped over to her clothes hamper, hanging her still-drying clothing on the side before standing up again and crossing her arms, staring straight at her brother. "You can go, now."

Now that Dustin had made up his mind, waiting for her to come back from her shower just became more unbearable. He kept flicking through the pictures on his phone, but he couldn't relax, or even smile at them anymore. What the hell was she going to say? Would she be happy for him? Or maybe would she say that actually, she thought that he wasn't really into boys, but that he was just enjoying the attention of the one person who actually seemed to like him and paid attention to him? He had almost forgotten that she wouldn't be happy about the bed situation when she suddenly appeared in the doorway, yelling at him. "Well, you shouldn't have taken a shower first then!" he retorted, but his voice lacked the usual fire. He watched her go over to the clothes hamper, biting his lip. "Actually, no, I can't go. I wanted to talk about something with you first. Something related to what you told me about Jenna."

"You have your own room! Plus mine smells like my body mists and I thought you always complained about them." Lea snapped back, glaring at him - startling a bit when he mentioned Jenna. "What about her?" She raised one of her eyebrows in a perfect arch, taking three steps towards Dustin. "She's one of my best friends, so don't even think about saying something obnoxious."

Dustin just shrugged. He wasn't going to tell her that the reason he was sitting on her bed was to annoy her. He had a feeling that wouldn't go over too well with her. "Relax, I'm not going to say something about her," he replied, frowning. Did she really think that he was going to make fun of her friend for being a lesbian or say something bad? "Like, why would I say something obnoxious? I kinda- Did you know that Quinn is gay?" he wanted to know. "I mean, he's pretty open about it, so I'm not, like, outing him against his will. So maybe you knew already."

"Because you're a teenaged boy and you already tend to say obnoxious things, big brother." Lea rolled her eyes. "Also, um, no? I knew he was a senior but I don't know everything about every senior or anyone else in the school. I know a decent amount, though. Could probably peg who'll win prom queen and king, maybe." She squinted at him. "So, what's your point? We both have gay friends? Congrats, it's not a big deal. Doesn't make them any different than if they were straight." Lea moved over to her dresser and undid the towel around her hair, before putting some leave-in conditioner into it and brushing it through - then turned back to face Dustin as she began to weave her hair into one thick braid. "Is that all? The shower's waiting for you."

Dustin rolled his eyes, he did not say obnoxious things. Never. "Yeah, but I thought you might know a bit more about him seeing as he comes over quite a lot," he replied, biting his lip. He pressed a button to make his phone screen come back to life, looking down at the picture. He could just tell her that it was all and be done with it. He could just get up and take a shower. But then, he still wouldn't know what she'd say about it. "No, that wasn't really my point," he said. "Especially considering that Quinn isn't just my friend." The last words came a bit quicker than he meant to say them, but as soon as the sentence had formed inside his head, it wanted out. Shit. This was it. He looked up at where she was standing, eyes tracking her every facial expression and movement.

Giving a small sigh, Lea took a few steps towards Dustin. "Him being around does not guarantee that I'll know loads more about him. I do know he's way into computers, even more than you, and that he once ate my last watermelon popsicle probably because you told him to, but I didn't know he was gay. No." Lea fiddled with the end of her braid, twisting it tightly around her finger. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" She took a few steps towards him and raised an eyebrow. "What is he, then?"

"Okay," Dustin just said. And sure, of course she wouldn't know he was gay. She would only know if he'd told her, or if she'd been stalking his blog. Which she probably hadn't. Because why would she spent hours going through her brother's friend's blog? Of course not. He bit his lip as she asked him to repeat himself. He himself didn't even know what they were. Quinn hadn't exactly asked him to be his boyfriend. And to use that word... that would feel like a huge step. "He's still very much my friend, my best friend," Dustin mumbled, looking down at his hands. "But, um, he likes me. And I'm very sure I like him, like, I kept thinking about him? All the time? And I feel really good when I'm with him, which honestly is not surprising because he's one of the nicest people I know and to be fair he is very attractive-" Dustin stopped to take a bit of breath, suddenly aware of the fact that he was rambling. But how else was he supposed to explain this thing to Lea? "So, the point is, there's kind of this thing between us." He looked up at her, still biting his lip.

Lea pursed her lips and turned her head to the side, as if to examine Dustin. Process what he'd said, more fully. "So, like, are you gay?" She bit her lip. "Is that what you're trying to tell me?" She squinted at him. Not that it mattered, but it was still something - something she hadn't known about Dustin. Lea had never really given much of any thought to what his sexuality was - he was Dustin, so it didn't matter. "Or at least into Quinn? I guess he's cute, though not really my type." She shrugged.

Dustin sighed. That was the big question, the question that he had been asking himself nearly every day for a while. Or at least, ever since he figured out that he liked Quinn as more than a friend. "I don't know," he said truthfully. "Would that be a problem if I was?" he asked her. Okay, so she was fine with Jenna, but Jenna was a girl and Jenna hadn't been living with her for the past fifteen years. Was she going to be angry that he kept this a secret from her? "I mean, I think there's at least a 70% chance I'm gay? I think. Like, I've never been into a single girl at school and I very much enjoy kissing Quinn." He shrugged, looking away, then back at her, trying to read her reaction off her facial expressions.

Lea rolled her eyes. "Why the heck would it be a problem?" She asked, squinting at him. "Though if you go any further with any talk of kissing we might have one, because eeeeeeeew as much as we share DNA, I do not need to hear any details about who you're swapping saliva with, holy crap." Though if Quinn and Dustin were doing anything, a message to Quinn or some talk with him in the hallways at school was in order - though school seemed like a less appealing idea. "Also did you really have to tell this to me when I am in my freaking bathrobe? I don't even get to have this memory in a pretty outfit." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I don't know! I thought maybe you would be mad because I kept this a secret from you!" Now that Dustin thought about it, maybe it had really been irrational to think she would be angry. Hearing her reaction now, it was such a relief. Even though, yes, technically he could have guessed she would be fine with it. "Oh my god, you are so immature! I just mentioned that we kissed, nothing more, nothing about spit or anything. So, can I tell you that this started by us holding hands or is that too inappropriate for your baby brain to handle?" Dustin asked, rolling his eyes at her next words. "And I'm in fucking wet clothes, what's your point?" She was nothing but ridiculous. "What memory?"

"Well that's freaking stupid, but fine." Lea pursed her lips. "I am not! I just don't want to hear about my brother kissing. I've got nothing against it as a general concept." She glared at him. "Chill the heck out, big brother, I thought you've said I'm supposed to be the one with no chill." Lea scrunched up her nose. "On my bed, where you could've gone and gotten out of them in your own freaking room, so I don't have sympathy for that, sorry." Lea hopped onto the bed, next to Dustin and turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. "The memory when my annoying as heck big brother confided in me about one of the most important things ever and I'm in a freaking fluffy bathrobe."

Dustin started grinning. "Oh my god, I have a new weapon against you. Every time I want something from you, I can just start talking about kissing Quinn in as much detail as I can, and only stop when you do what I want you to." This plan was genius. He shrugged when Lea complained about him being on her bed. "Well, I had to be here 'cause I wanted to tell you my secret," he said, not mentioning that his original reason for going into her room had been to drip all over her things instead of his own. Looking back at her as she joined him on the bed, he raised his own eyebrow right back at her, mimicking her expression. "So? Looks stylish. You'll always remember you were in a fucking fluffy bathrobe, and you will always remember that bathroom fondly as the 'my-brother-told-me-he-might-be-gay'-bathrobe. Also, um, can you please not say anything about this to mum and dad?" he asked her, biting his lip. "They're pretty open-minded when it comes to gay people, but they're still assuming we're both straight and so far the open-door rule for me only applies to girls and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Um, no. That is cruel, and if you do that I'll just plug my ears and ignore you." Lea smirked. "That sounds incredibly fake, Dustin." She continued, with a rolling of her eyes, which only continued as he copied her expression. "This robe might be cute, but it is not any sort of stylish look. Also that's a freaking long name, big brother." She cocked her head to the side, her braid falling down her side. "I won't say anything, I'm not about to be a jerk and out you to our parents. Plus sexuality's a whole tangled mess, if we're being honest."

Dustin crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Uh, you know you can't ignore me. So you'll probably still have to hear all about it. And besides, it's not like I could terrorise anyone else with this stuff," he told her. "It's not fake. Don't call me fake. You're fake." He stuck his tongue out at her, even though technically she was right. "Well, you can't call it a coming-out bathrobe since I didn't technically come out," he mumbled, smiling when she said she wouldn't say anything. "Awesome. So being maybe-gay does have its perks. 'Cause if you bring over a guy, you two will be watched like a hawk by mum and dad. Isn't life beautiful and fair?"

Lea sighed. "I can try, practice does make perfect, after all." She narrowed her eyes. "What if I get a boyfriend and tell you aaaall about that?" Lea smirked. "Except that no, I wouldn't. I don't need to hear your thoughts on my love life." She pulled her robe tighter around her body. "You didn't, no, but it is news that you're into boys and I knew that time you got together was a daaaate. See? I'm right about everything." She let a soft giggle escape her lips. "Life is not fair but there's no boys around even though Jackson gave me those candy hearts or whatever."

"But I'm still un-ignorable," Dustin retorted, chuckling. "Yeah, there's no way you would tell me about your possible boyfriend. You'd probably just tell your friends instead." He ignored the fact that the reason he couldn't do that was that he pretty much had no friends. This wasn't the time to think about that. "Also, yes, maybe that was our first date." He couldn't help but smile. "I mean, it wasn't a date originally, but it kinda turned into one. But you totally could not know that. Just a lucky guess on your part." He refused to believe that his sister could read him that well. "Oh, so his name is Jackson! You never told me that. I'll have to keep a closer look at him then." He laughed. "Wait, are you even into boys? Cause, I mean, being gay is heritable, so maybe you are, too."

"Only because you're giant and have an obnoxious voice, but I have practice. I am immune." Lea raised an eyebrow. That was not completely true, not at all, but it was important to say. "Yeah, you're right. I would tell Jenna and Beth and all the others, and ha! I knew it." She huffed. "Psh, not a lucky guess. I am simply that brilliant." A proud smile crossed her lips before turning into a frown. "Why would you bother keeping a closer look at him?" She squinted. "Um, I guess? I don't know, I've never really given a lot of thought to what I am, if we're being honest. There's other more important things to think about."

"Um, excuse you? I have a beautifully energetic and deep voice!" Dustin protested. "And I can make you listen, definitely." He frowned. "What, you would tell them? But surely you would tell me first if you got a boyfriend? I mean, you're the first person I told. First and only person," he said. "And don't look so smug. It was Valentine's Day after all, and you're not brilliant at all." Dustin shrugged. To be fair, he had been mostly kidding. "Um, I don't know. Probably to make sure he's not bothering you or anything. I mean, giving you candy hearts? That's a pretty bold move," he said. Lea raised a few good points about sexuality and how important it was not, but of course he couldn't admit that to her face. "Of course you haven't thought about that. You're just a baby after all."

"Again, no, but if that's what helps you sleep at night, keep telling yourself that." Lea shook her head. "No you can't." She rolled her eyes. "Because you don't have as many friends as I do, Dustin. Don't try to make me feel special, it's not gonna work." She replied, "and I'll look as smug as I want. With good reason, just saying. Also aww, how cute! You do care about me!" Lea laughed. "Still never ate any of the hearts, but it was a bold move. I can't help it that I'm pretty though." At Dustin's next comments she rolled her eyes again. "Not a baby, just not something I focus on. My age has nothing to do with it."

"I do have many friends I could tell," Dustin protested, even though technically it was a lie. There was no one at school he would tell, and he wasn't exactly sure if Noah considered him a friend or just an annoying, if not slightly amusing teenager to put up with. "Shut up, I don't care about you at all!" he lied. "Like, why would I care about you? You're just the person taking up the room that could have been my own gaming room." He grinned at her. Of course he did care about her. But her ego was already so inflated, she didn't need to hear that. "Of course you'd say that, I bet you've never even held hands with a guy." He stuck out his tongue before getting up from the bed. "I better get out of these clothes before I catch something."

"That is factually incorrect, Dustin." Lea pursed her lips. "Even if you do have friends, I don't think you'd up and share this with them." A glare flashed across her face at his comment, if only for a brief moment. "Liar. Oh my god, Dustin, you are the worst at lying." Raising an eyebrow, she continued. "Nope, mum would have had some craft room in here for her knitting or dad would have gotten it. Not you, ew." She wrinkled her nose in false disgust. "You don't know that I could have held hands with many guys. I do have quite soft hands, I use excellent lotion." She rolled her eyes. "Yes, especially 'cause if you catch it you're sure to make it so that I, too, will catch something. Feel free to go, now."

"You make it sound like I have no friends!" Dustin protested, frowning. "And I would tell them, definitely..." It wasn't like just everyone could know though. Because as soon as the word travelled around, his mum was bound to find out. And then he could say goodbye to peace, she would bug him about this so much. "You can't know that. I'm sure that as an only child, they would have loved me even more and given me that room." He rolled his eyes at her last comment, god, she was just so naive. "Whether you use lotion or not doesn't mean guys will want to hold hands with you. Guys don't care about stuff like lotions. I don't use lotion to make my hands soft, and I do hold hands with Quinn a lot." He made his way towards the door. Somehow, it felt nice being able to share this with someone, though it kind of made him want to share it with others, too. It was almost a pity he didn't have a group of close friends he could share secrets with like Lea did.

#lea #touchofchatzy #chatzy #small matters

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