#let me clear the air years later. i was sixteen and i didn't know you had to butter the bread when you make the grilled cheese.

[lovely-v]

i want to write a cookbook fic but the only problem is i'm famous for not having known how to make grilled cheese before reading it in a kiribaku fic. so needless to say i dont rly know how to cook

[cotecoyotegrrrl]

Once Upon A Time - Still Kind of Beautiful - part 2

Not exactly a holiday story

There's a letter on the desktop that I dug out of a drawer  The last truce we ever came to from our adolescent war  And I start to feel the fever from the warm air through the screen You come regular like seasons shadowing my dreams 

Indigo Girls

You can find of this story in its entirety on A03 and FF

Summary:

Holly has come home for the holidays to visit family, and maybe, just maybe, find some holiday magic.

Part 2

Holly is home for the holidays. Home. What a strange and wonderful thing, even though she hasn't lived in this city in a decade, Toronto still feels like home. She comes home about once or twice a year to spend a few weeks to a month visiting friends and relatives, living in the guestroom of what is now her sister's townhouse, although she still owns it. On longer visits, like this one, she combines pleasure with business, hanging out in the morgue, getting caught up with old colleagues, and now that she let her boss talk her into being on that stupid show, giving lectures and making a few official public appearances, God or somebody help her.

It used to be easier avoiding Gail. When Sophie and Leo were young, all that Traci needed to do was to get Gail to babysit the kids for an evening and they would meet up for drinks at The Black Penny. Now that the kids are both old enough to be in collage, it's harder, even though Holly knows Gail doesn't really go out much anymore. She knows she's taken the coward's way out. As Traci says, it's been ten years for Christ's sake, what is she still afraid of? They did part as friends. Right? And now, Traci tells her, laughing at her the whole time, Sophie is a big fan of the show and wants to meet her. It's like she's become the butt of some bad, sad cosmic joke. She sighs and drops her forehead into her arms that are resting on the bar. Seamus, the regular bartender at the Penny, pushes a Jack and Coke in front of her without being asked.

"It's good to see you Doc!" He says as he goes back to polishing the glassware, "This one's on me."

"Thanks Seamus!" She smiles, sitting back up to lift the glass to her mouth. The barely tainted liquor burns all the way down.

Just the way Gail likes it, or did, in any case.

It's been ten years, three months, and sixteen days since she kissed the blonde officer goodbye at the airport on her way to her new life, not that she would know. Ten years, three months, sixteen days, and nine and a half hours since she boarded that plane to be exact, if she kept track of those kinds of things. Ten years, three months, sixteen days, and four hours since she left a message on Gail's voicemail letting her know that her flight had landed in San Francisco, and began to wait for a reply that never came. She thought about reaching out to Gail when Traci told her that Sophie's adoption didn't go through, and then again a year and a half later, when it did. She had wanted to fly home and rush to Gail's side when she heard about the internal corruption investigation, and then the trial where Gail and Steve had been forced to testify against their parents, pitting them against each other as well. But the wall of silence had stopped her. She had seen Gail from a distance on several of her visits home, always managing to slip away before she was noticed, not wanting her presence to intrude on Gail's life. She had heard from several of their mutual friends about how retched Gail had been after she left, and how Gail finally managed to pull herself together when it became clear that Children's Services were considering her once again as a parental candidate for Sophie, after Sophie's placement with a more traditional family fell apart. Who is she kidding? It isn't just Gail that she is trying to protect.

"Hey Girl! You are looking good!" She can hear the smile in Traci's voice even before she spins around on her bar stool to be grabbed into a warm hug.

"Traci!" She grins into the shoulder of the wool coat that is pressing into her cheek.

Traci pulls back, holding her at arms length for a moment and then lets go. She waives at Seamus and holds up two fingers. He nods and places two shots of bourbon and two pints of beer on the bar in front of them.

They settle into a booth in the back, talking about Holly's reluctant celebrity, and Traci's recent promotion to Regional Special Operations Team Leader and her move from Division 15 to the Ontario Police Headquarters, and about how she and Steve reconnected about a year ago and are giving dating another try.

"So you and Steve…?" Holly tilts her head, raising her eyebrows at Traci, "How is that working?"

"It's good." Traci smiles back, "I think we are really going to make a go of it this time. He has done a lot of work on himself around communication, and control, and trust."

"That's great Traci, I am really happy for you." Holly replies.

"Thanks!" Traci says, "And even better, Leo loves Steve, so he couldn't be more thrilled!"

"I can't believe he is in his second year at the University of Toronto! All grown up, and a starting Left Wing on the hockey team!" Holly smiles and shakes her head.

"You want me to get us tickets for a game while you're here?" Traci glows with pride.

"Of course!" Holly grins and finishes her drink. "Here let me get us another round."

The Penny has filled up quickly in the time they have been sitting wrapped in conversation, with the usual crowd of cops getting off the day shift, people from the neighborhood, and the occasional college student or two. Holly has to push her way to the bar and squeeze in between a couple or large guys to place their drink order. She fidgets as she waits for the new bartender she doesn't know to stop flirting a couple of girls sitting at the end of the bar. Sooner or later people she knows will be filing in after work, and then she will be here all night. She sighs and looks up to find Seamus placing their drinks before her.

"Sorry about that." He shrugs, "Jimmy doesn't know you, and he thought you were just some hot cougar out hunting cops." He smirks.

"So I'm no longer a badge bunny." She laughs, "Well at least he thinks I'm still hot."

"Darlin', you were never a badge bunny!" The voice says behind her, "And Seamus, put that on my tab."

She whirls around to be caught in a great hug that warms her down to her very soul.

"It's so good to see you." She murmurs into Oliver's ear.

"Yup. Yup, I could say the same." Oliver releases her, "Celery told me you were in town. So I figured it was only a matter of time before I caught you sneaking around down here."

"I am not sneaking around!" She replies indignantly.

"Sure you're not…" He laughs at her

"I'm not! I'm here with Traci, if you must know…" She gives him a playful shove.

"Yeah, yeah, sittin' in the back, ignoring all of us little people…" He teases. "Well look Darlin', I gotta go but maybe I'll see you when I get home on Monday?"

"Celery and I are just going to hang around the house after lunch, so you know you will." She smiles as he kisses her cheek and walks off in the direction of the dartboard.

Holly smiles to herself. It is good to be home. She has picked up the drinks and is carefully turning to return to her seat when she literally bumps into someone that stops her cold. The black leather jacket is shockingly familiar, from the tiny scull charm dangling from the zipper on the breast pocket to the knot she put in the waist belt so long ago. Looking up into eyes, framed by gold wire rimmed glasses, as dark and brown as her own, in a face she has only seen in pictures, makes Holly gasp.

"Hey! Watch it lady!" The dark curls that tumble out from underneath a watch cap, and the flawless milk-chocolate brown skin are unfamiliar, but the tone and the accompanying gesture are all Gail.

"Sophie?" Holly asks in a hushed tone.

"Oh my God!" Is all Sophie can manage as she gapes wide eyed at her hero, a blush rising in her cheeks. "Doc..Dr. Stewart? You… you know who I am?" She finally sputters.

Holly regains her composure as she watches the girl struggle.

"Wha... what are you doing here?" Sophie stutters, still obviously in shock.

Holly laughs, "I'm having a drink with your Aunt Traci."

"Oh." Sophie says, still frozen to the spot.

"Why don't you come over and say hello." Holly continues, leading the way back to the booth.

"Oh. Ok." Sophie follows like a puppy, all awkward and shy.

"Look who I found." Holly says while sliding back into the booth.

"Oh good! You've met." Traci looks up with a smile. "Hey Sophie! How's school?"

Sophie is still standing somewhat dumbstruck in front of them.

"Uh… good Aunt Traci, really good…" She finally manages.

"Sophie wants to be a Forensic Pathologist too." Traci smiles at Holly.

"Really?" Holly tilts her head with a smile, "So you want to be an uber-science nerd like me?

"Oh I don't think you're a nerd, Dr. Stewart! Well not in a bad way, anyway. I think you're amazing! And all of the cases you help solve…" Sophie gushes.

"Please. Call me Holly." She interrupts, her smile growing wider. So this is Sophie. This amazing young woman is the reason Gail couldn't come with her to San Francisco. Sitting here listening to Sophie ramble on, bubbling about forensic science, in much the same way she does herself, is like a gift she didn't know she needed. Until now. Holly finds the weight of ten years of disappointment and resentment for a life without Gail lifting as she sees the young woman before her begin to glow with excitement as she answers each question about their chosen profession. Traci is grinning ear to ear with pride across the table at her too.

"I have to say, I'm impressed." Holly grins as Sophie finishes telling them about the molecular biology project on the breakdown of DNA and methods of its reconstruction for analysis in the field she has been working on all semester. "That's quite advanced stuff you are working on!"

She watches Sophie blush, lick her lips and scuff her boot on the wooden floor and then look back up at her with wide, trusting eyes in a way that is just so Gail. It catches Holly completely off guard; it makes her want to cry all of a sudden. She can feel Traci's eyes, soft and motherly, watching her. It's all starting to be too much.

"Hey! There you are. I thought we were meeting at the bar…" Gail's annoyed voice cuts in behind Sophie.

Holly closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and leans her head against the wooden back of the booth.

"Hey Mom! I was just talking to Aunt Traci and Dr. Stewart… erm… I mean Holly!" Sophie exclaims, excitement sparkling in her eyes as she turns to face Gail.

"Oh." Gail says as all of the blood drains from her body. She licks her lips, feeling as if she has been plunged into ice water.

Traci is frozen too, looking from Holly to Gail to Sophie with frantic, worried eyes. She finally snaps out of it, springing from her seat to take Sophie gently by the arm. "Why don't we go get another round at the bar." She says, leading a thoroughly confused Sophie away from the booth.

Brown eyes open to meet blue and nothing else matters. The Penny, the noise, and everyone else all seem to disappear.

"Hello Gail." Holly says softly.

That's all it takes. Suddenly Holly is on her feet. Gail takes two quick strides forward to catch her and hold on tight.

"I've missed you." Holly finally manages to gasp in a strangled whisper.

"Me too, Holly, me too." Gail sobs quietly into her ear. "More than I can ever say."

[theficpusher]

I posted 22 times in 2021

22 posts created (100%)

0 posts reblogged (0%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 0.0 posts.

I added 35 tags in 2021

Longest Tag: 111 characters

#(with one small note: i have a “fix-it fics that take place on zayn’s farm” type rec that i’m planning some day

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Wooing for Beginners by sunsetmog | T | 4362 There's a girl at school Louis is dying to impress, but Louis ends up impressing Nick instead. A sort-of bookshop/high school/Saturday job AU with extra baking and not enough fish fingers.

Things Unsaid by LadyLondonderry | G | 4439 "That chunky oversized sweater is like a clown outfit made for winter." It feels like time slows down. Those words echo in his mind, familiar. Why are they familiar? The— the sweater he saw last week. The one with all the knit squares. The train slows to a stop and Louis just— he doesn’t move. He feels frozen in place as people surge around him. Suddenly everyone is moving too fast and then just as suddenly the car is near empty, taking off again. The man is gone. His soulmate is gone. Or, where you have a tattoo of the first thought your soulmate has when they see you.

Bookworm by i_amthecosmos | E | 7247 Liam is a bookstore employee who hates books. Louis doesn't know about the second part.

You're a Nightmare, I'm a Disaster by lululawrence | nr | 7413 As Nick scanned the shelves, his eyes caught on a bright blue binding. Snooki, it read, A Shore Thing. “Oh my God,” Nick mumbled, trying not to laugh as he picked it up. He’d watched bits and pieces of Jersey Shore way back in the day. Without bothering to look any further around the store, he headed up to the counter where Blue eyes was watching him. Nick cleared his throat nervously and set the book on the counter and the man immediately flashed him a look of disdain. “Seriously? Out of everything we have available, you chose the book we special ordered for a customer?” “Well, it can’t be that bad if someone specifically requested it, right?” Nick said, trying to keep a teasing tone. “Why do you think we still have it if it was a special order?” the man asked with a scoff. “They returned it after reading something like three pages.” Nick frowned at the book. “Well that doesn’t seem very fair.” Or the one where Nick is a writer, Louis works in a bookshop, and things don't exactly start off on the right foot, but they might just end on it.

Dancing Away With My Heart by thewherethefislouisface | M | 7970 “You’re not the boy I thought you were Harry Styles.” Louis isn’t sure if he’s talking about teenager Harry or grown up Harry. “Yeah?” Harry swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Louis is rather drunk so he’s bound to say shit he might not normally. “I wanted to kiss you so bad that night,” Louis whispers. It's the first time either one of them have made mention to prom night years earlier. “You remember that?” Harry asks, his eyes glossy. OR Harry and Louis are prom night cliches, who meet again years later!

Anonymous Said by alivingfire | T | 21158 When Harry was sixteen, he reached out for someone, anyone, to help him through the hardest days of his life. When Louis was eighteen, he answered. While they didn't know each other's names or faces or lives at all, really, it didn't stop them from falling a little bit in love. And when Harry moves to Manchester for uni two years later, he meets a boy in a bookshop named Louis and wonders why it all feels so easy. Or: two boys, two blogs, two years of anonymous messages, and a bookshop where it all comes together.

Singing To Tiny Dancer by BriaMaria | E | 22734 “Yes!” Harry punched a fist into the air. He laughed at the confusion that wrinkled the little space between Louis’ brows. “What?” “You’re flirting with me,” Harry smiled, letting his dimples pop. Louis’ face went blank for two seconds and then he rolled his eyes, one side of his mouth lifting. “Am not.” “You soooo are,” Harry sang out, poking him in the shoulder. “You like me.” “I was simply showing you how to actually bring… what did you call it? Your A-game.” Harry adopted a patronizing expression, sure it would piss him off. “And you did great. Really.” “Oi, fuck off,” Louis said, but he was actually laughing now. Outright. It was gorgeous and Harry wanted to live in this moment forever. It was the very best one he’d experienced. He wanted to always remember the image of Louis’ crinkled eyes, the sound of his breathy giggles, the smell of citrus that radiated off him as he swayed in his amusement. And Louis didn’t even know his name. Or ... When everything gets to be a bit too much for A-list actor Louis Tomlinson, he runs back to the town he had never really called home and the boy who was the only one he did.

The Changer and the Changed by homosociallyyours | M | 59496 It’s the spring of 1977 and Harry Styles has just moved to New York City after graduating college. She knows she’s a lesbian. She just needs to figure out how to meet other lesbians. Louis Tomlinson works at a popular women’s bookstore in the Lower East Side, Womon’s Direction, where she spends her days reading feminist literature, writing poetry, exchanging friendly barbs with her boss Niall, and dreaming of finding someone to love. When Harry and Louis meet, their connection is instantaneous. Slowly but surely, Louis welcomes Harry into her community of women. Stonewall veteran and old school butch Niall; Liam, a land dyke who’s moved to the city for love; and Zayn, a lesbian musician who’s been ostracized by a vocal part of women’s community for being trans, welcome Harry with open arms, ready to help her find her place in New York City’s bustling lesbian scene. It’s a time of growth for everyone involved.

Lightning Strikes Twice by dinosaursmate | E | 104570 Louis slipped his hand onto Harry’s thigh, snaking his fingers up and inwards. “I’m a big fan. You’re so talented, and I have to admit that I actually fancy you a bit.” “Yeah?” Harry reached up to push Louis’ fringe out of his eyes. “Well, you know, I like to try and be accommodating to my fans.” “You’re quite well known for that,” Louis whispered as he turned his head some more, their mouths an inch apart. “So I hear.” --- Rock star Harry Styles was nineteen when he met Louis, a groupie with a huge heart that Harry couldn’t quite shake from his mind. Fate granted him a second chance at the age of sixty, his washed up and lonely existence being transformed by a widower with a bookshop.

107 notes • Posted 2021-05-23 15:00:44 GMT

#4

Baby Just Dive Right In (Follow My Lead) by LiveLaughLoveLarry | T | 1686 Harry and Louis compete together in the men's 10m synchronized platform diving. They also live together. They also are together. Not as many people know that last part -- though not because Harry and Louis are hiding anything. They're just not showing it off. But they are seeing how much innuendo they can get away with before someone clues in. Turns out: a lot. ~*~ “You don’t think anyone’s gonna pick up on things from that?” Harry shrugs. “They haven’t so far,” he points out. “And we haven’t exactly been subtle. I mean, your face when they asked you if there were any girls you were excited to meet at the Olympics? Priceless.” “Oh, you’re one to talk,” Louis says. “What was it you said last month? ‘Until I find the perfect girl, I have Louis’?” “Nice to know you have it memorized,” Harry says. “Was that before or after you told the interviewer that I’m a great boyfriend?”

Everything You Touch Turns To Gold by nothing_but | E | 4158 When Louis had retreated to his hotel room in the evening after a long day of commentating, he found himself on his bed, scrolling through twitter. There was a lot more going on than he was used to. The tweets he got to see were all pretty similar. Best of #rio2016 commentators thirsting for @HarryStyles. Something to say to that @Louis_Tomlinson #BBC Olympics Fic, featuring Great Britain's swimmer (and medal hope) Harry Styles and sports commentator Louis Tomlinson, who finds it incredibly difficult to keep reporting objectively.

Like Flying | M | 5954 The Olympics are really just an excuse for falling in love. Plus fencing and gymnastics.

Pick a star by retts | E | 6081 Remember last year after we won the Olympics? God, Zayn, that had been a fantastic fuck. Or porn, porn, porn, and sap.

We've got nothing to lose by iwontseecadyagain | nr | 12181 “Oops!” A deep and slow voice fills Louis’ ears as an arm reaches around his waist, to keep Louis from rebounding into another white-outfitted body – this time a short young girl who could only be gymnast. “Hi,” Louis replies as he turns to smile up at the person and thank him for preventing Louis’ life from dissolving into a real-life game of Pong, but the words dry up in his throat when he sees. The person is a boy, tall and lanky with curly brown hair pushed away from his face messily and held back by a gaudy Union Jack scarf, green eyes sparkling from all the camera flashes and impossibly pink lips curled in a wide smile that nearly encompasses his whole face. And Louis recognizes him instantly. And he thinks that maybe if walking into the Olympic Stadium during the opening ceremony wasn’t enough, having Harry Styles’ arm around him might be the killing blow. Also known as an Olympics AU where Harry is a pro tennis player, and Louis is a pro footballer. They meet at the opening ceremony and fall in love, obviously.

we're feeling like gold by cxyst | M | 16664 [an inordinately fluffy au in which harry is britain’s olympic golden boy and louis is a twenty one year old retired diving star, and somehow, they end up being just what the other needs]

Oh Glory by alivingfire | E | 21027 Tomlinson looks Liam over, tilting his head. “Are you a swimmer as well?” “Yeah,” Liam says, a little cautiously. Harry wonders if it’s Tomlinson’s fame or the unimpressed eyebrow that’s making Liam wary. “Distance, I’m doing the 1500m. Harry here’s a sprinter.” “Ah,” says Tomlinson, turning his glinting eyes back to Harry. “So you’re not an endurance man.” A beat passes, and his grin grows, wide and filthy. "Shame." Harry Styles is Team Great Britain's newest swimmer, and has spent his whole life training for this moment, a chance at the gold medal in the Rio 2016 Olympics. All his training, hard work, and dedication to no distractions is tested when he's assigned to the same Rio apartment as Louis Tomlinson, British gymnast and Harry's childhood crush.

Gold Running Through My Veins by hazzayoudoing | M | 24853 Harry can’t help himself when he leers. No one ever said you had to be unaffected by your own teammate’s body. Louis has a great one. He’s compact with muscle, curves in places Harry could only dream to touch one day. They hate each other, on the surface. It’s always been this way. Some ribbing here, some eyebrow raises there. But Harry would be lying if he was forced to admit he’s never thought of Louis in a different way. “Take a picture, Styles. It’ll last longer,” Louis says as he ambles past with Zayn. His board shorts brush Harry’s shoulder, water droplets cool to the touch. “Fuck off,” Harry responds. He’s got his part to play. Or, an Olympic gymnastics AU that finds sworn enemies Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson on the same Olympic team, battling it out for gold medals in Belgium while they fall, quite stubbornly, in love. Featuring a steamy striptease in an empty gym, Harry canoodling with a gymnast from another country, a bit of sight-seeing in gorgeous Belgium and some really delicious waffles.

Kick, Push by ziamhaze | E | 85243 World champion street skateboarder Zayn Malik has been on top of the sport’s rankings since he turned pro at 15. So when the Olympic Committee announces that skateboarding will be included for the first time at the 2020 Games, he’s thrilled to take on the challenge while representing Great Britain. There’s just one thing standing in between him and adding another title to the record books: his crippling performance anxiety. But when Team GB Skateboarding’s awarded a physiotherapist with an affinity for experimental therapy methods and a crinkly eyed smile, Zayn thinks he might just have found his ticket to bringing home gold.

116 notes • Posted 2021-08-01 15:00:43 GMT

#3

What Happens Next by lululawrence | nr | 5430 “So anyway,” Louis said on a yawn, making Harry yawn as well. “What can I do for you?” “Uhm. Well, I was wondering how a free vacation sounded to you.” Harry knew he had Louis’ attention fully because his voice suddenly sounded much more alert. “I’d say you’re trying to sell me something, because nothing in life is free. However, I am listening.” Or a fic where Harry has to pick up the pieces and ends up on the couples cruise that should have been his honeymoon...with his best friend Louis.

Escape by friendofhayley | M | 7491 A Brooklyn Nine-Nine AU where Detectives Styles and Tomlinson have to come up with a plan to catch the Sony Crusader - Shawn Mendes. Featuring help from Captain Payne, his quirky assistant Niall, and the Zayn Malik.

Whatever Floats Your Boat by larryftnoctrl | nr | 24830 When Harry's mother convinces him to attend his ex's wedding, he must enlist support in the form of his handsome and charming best friend, flatmate and convincing fake boyfriend, Louis. With Louis by his side, the ever present sun and the plenty of open bars, an all expenses paid week long cruise doesn't seem like the worst he could do.

Found My Hallelujah by crimsontheory | E | 34753 As an engagement gift from his parents, Harry and his fiance receive an all expenses paid cruise trip for two. But one week before they're set to sail, Harry walks in on his fiance cheating on him. Newly single, with the cruise tickets in hand, and his bags already packed, Harry brings along his sister instead. And maybe the cute bartender on the ship might just be the person Harry needs to help him put back together all of his broken pieces.

Drifting, Weightless by dinosaursmate | E | 41193 “We’ve been asked to do a gig,” Niall said slowly. “Harry and Liam are completely up for it, I am too.” “Alright. What’s the catch?” Louis asked with suspicion. “It’s, um…” Niall cleared his throat. “So, Juliana was contacted by this themed cruise company, and they want us to do a four-day One Direction cruise.” The words hung in the air as Louis’ right eyebrow slowly crept up and he fixed Niall with a stare. “Absolutely not.” Louis rolled his eyes. “You’re essentially asking me to go on a working holiday with my ex. Stranded on a boat in the ocean for four days.” “Cruise ships are huge! You don’t have to see him in your down time.” --- Harry and Louis are exes with benefits until they're not, and the Mediterranean Sea might just be the perfect place to work through some unresolved issues.

Sail away with me by Star_Henderson | E | 47443 “It’s inhumane putting four blokes in one cabin.” Louis stripped off and climbed up into his top bunk. “And why did we get the smelliest twat on the whole ship and bore of the century?” Harry shrugged. “We clearly pissed someone off along the way.” Louis snorted softly. “Who do I have to bend over for to get us an upgrade?” Harry barked out a laugh. “If only it were that simple.” He rolled his eyes wistfully at Louis. “The only way I’m going to get a two berth is to throw Payno overboard and be next in line for the deputy cruise director's job.” Louis leaned up on one elbow to look over at Harry. “Would you help me weigh his body down so I don’t go to jail?” “Only If I can share your cabin.” Harry shuffled about, tucking the duvet between his legs, sweeping his hair up into a bun and securing it in a band. “I’m not being an accessory to murder and then still having to share with them two, no fucking way.” Or Louis and Harry are part of the entertainment team on board a luxury cruise liner. They hate sharing their four berth cabin with two other guys and would do anything to get a cabin of their own. One drunken night the solution was simple. They'd just get married...

It's a Better Place (Since You Came Along) by phdmama | E | 51866 When Harry Styles, a mid-level talent, Finder, and small business owner, sets off on the vacation of a lifetime with his best friend, Niall Horan, he has no idea the changes his life will undergo over the next nine days. He's got it all planned - there's going to be shore excursions, lounging by the pool on the deck of the luxurious cruise ship, not to mention margaritas. What he does not plan for are the new friends, new bonds, or the mystery from his past that comes back to haunt him, and he certainly hasn't planned for Louis.

You Make Lovin' Fun by homosociallyyours | E | 109915 Harry is a 28 year old travel writer at a gay magazine who gets the assignment to go a lesbian cruise. She figures it's a nice chance to have some fun in the sun, but she's not expecting much else-- even if her partner and best friend are both encouraging her to hook up with someone while she's there. When she locks eyes with a gorgeous silver fox from across the room, she starts to think she could've been wrong. There are lots of things standing in the way of anything real happening with her and Louis, but that doesn't stop them from falling for one another. True love isn't always easy, but they do make lovin' fun.

178 notes • Posted 2021-06-20 15:01:36 GMT

#2

Aphrodisiac by aimmyarrowshigh | E | 4033 The day he made roasted asparagus tips wrapped in Serrano ham with lemon aïoli, Louis knew: Harry Styles was trying to seduce him.

Cooking with Styles by adoringsmiles | E | 9119 Anyone can cook— or so they say.

When You Know by allwaswell16 | E | 17668 Years of living in the shadows has taken its toll on Louis Tomlinson. When he’s offered a chance to leave behind his life as a hired assassin, he intends to take it.

Boyfriend Material by Speechless | E | 22565 What really fucks with his head is the fact that Nick Grimshaw didn't just lie and disguise his evil plan as a birthday present. He didn't simply force Louis into his little psychological torture despite his efforts to keep that from happening. He didn't even stop after involving another innocent person into his cruel game. He also paid Harry Styles, a handsome, charming, young chef, so he would teach Louis how to cook. He told Harry Styles which days Louis works the morning shift and that's why Harry Styles knocks on his door every Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. * So basically Nick bets Louis he can't go two months without sex. And then he introduces Harry to him. Because he's the Devil*

all the lights are full of colour by infinitelymint | E | 26727 So, fast-forwarding eight years from the day Harry met Louis, he is now a twenty-seven year old owner of one of the most up-and-coming eating establishments on the London restaurant scene, father of two wonderful boys and… separated from his husband. Now, that last part definitely was never a part of the original plan. Or, Harry and Louis are separated, but for the sake of their two sons, they choose to spend Christmas together. It may just lead to a Christmas miracle.

If I had no love to give (I wouldn't give it to you) by kingsofeverything | E | 30628 Small town restaurateur Louis Tomlinson needs someone competent to work in his kitchen. Chef Harry Styles needs a job.

Harry Styles Cooks... by sunsetmog | E | 61020(WIP) In which Louis Tomlinson can’t cook, there’s a very special shower curtain, and Harry Styles used to be a baker. Or: Louis owns all of Harry Styles’ cookbooks, and he never intends to cook a single thing out of any of them.

a yuzu grows in brooklyn by stylinsoncity | M | 66785 harry is a recent implant in new york and a young chef opening a restaurant called yuzu. louis, a music teacher and broadway lover, has been around the block for a while. in a city that's so fast-paced, they're slow to catch on to each other.

For As Long As I Can Remember (It's Been December) by green_feelings | E | 128451 After recovering from a severe accident that causes Harry to lose his memory of three years, he moves to London to start his life over as a star chef. Little does he know that when he falls in love with Louis at first sight, it’s not the first time they meet. Featuring an unintentional game of hot and cold, Harry chasing memories that won’t come back, Louis burying himself in work to try and forget what he can’t forget, Liam being torn between two of his best friends, Zayn as a moral compass and Niall saving the day with good music and brutal honesty.

184 notes • Posted 2021-04-04 15:00:45 GMT

#1

Slow Hands (Slow Days) by LadyLondonderry | T | 9293 Louis Tomlinson is the new vet hired on at Payne Veterinary Practice, in the middle of the Yorkshire countryside with nothing but rolling hills and farms for miles. Harry Styles is a resident farmer, with pigs and sheep and beautiful green pasture and a, confusingly, completely empty milking parlour. Maybe Louis is putting too much thought into this, but he really, really thinks Harry should have cows. And Harry really, really seems to disagree.

Lambing Season by HelloAmHere | E | 24544 “Shut up,” Louis says, an involuntary grin tugging at his mouth. It’s not every boy who will stand in the middle of a cold barn in a suit and play musician trivia. “I’m Louis.” //lambing season brings sleep deprivation, noisy alarms, cold barns, demanding animals, and warm strangers.

I was never lost, I only chose to never go home by WeAreTheLuckyOnes | E | 26425 Liam’s family farm has always held a place for troubled kids sent by parents or looking for shelter. But Harry… Harry’s not like any other kid that’s ever been through. He’s different.

Hearts on Fire by itsallaboutzarry | E | 42211 "Zayn still repeats those words to himself every day. Even this drunk, even when he tipped back shot after shot, he still mumbled them under his breath, because he won’t forget them. He won’t let himself. Believe nothing. Trust no one. Not a single word."

That's What I'm Here For by taggiecb | E | 46838 Louis Tomlinson is a dairy farmer on a tiny farm in eastern Canada. His wife of nearly thirty years has left him and his children are all grown up and out of the house. Louis needs help running his business but has no idea where to even start looking. Luckily for him his children know just the man for the job.

through the wheatfields and the coastlines by thepolourryexpress | E | 52855 “You’re not from around here, are ya?” Hot Cowboy asks, tracking his little lamb with his eyes. Louis frowns slightly, having thought he was doing pretty well at not sticking out like a sore thumb. It’s not like he’s not from around here — it’s not his first summer he’s spent at his grandparents'. But he supposes that the Manhattan city lifestyle that he’s used to is always going to shine through. “I’m visiting family for the summer,” Louis explains, cheeks a little pink. “Trying to get some work done without distractions.” Or, alternatively, the one where Louis needs inspiration, and a certain cowboy and his lamb are the perfect distraction.

Apples Always Fall (As I Do For You) by rainbowsandgucci | M | 54609 ”Due to unforeseen circumstances, help is needed here at the orchard for the impending apple season. Looking for someone able to start within the next week or two at the most, is willing to do whatever miscellaneous tasks are needed, such as picking & packing apples, running the cash register, and other handywork that may need to be done. Must be good with customers, and able to lift up to 50lbs. Help will be needed until at the least the end of October. Please contact the number found on this page, or come out to the orchard and ask for Harry. All the love xx” --- Louis is staying at his Aunt's farm in a small town in Minnesota for four months. To deal with the boredom that sets in a week into his stay, he starts working at the local apple orchard, owned by twenty six year old Harry Styles. Louis quickly finds himself falling in love with the orchard, and he finds a family in Harry's friends Niall, Liam, and Zayn. He also starts to fall in love with Harry. Falling in love with him turns out to be the easy part.

Until [Series] by allwaswell16 | E | 61,929 Rural Eagle County, Colorado wasn’t the type of place to find a famous musician or actor. At least not until songwriter Louis Tomlinson showed up with pop star Niall Horan to visit his uncle’s horse ranch, and they just happened to find themselves next door to a reclusive former movie star.

Wild And Unruly by 100percentsassy & gloria_andrews | E | 123655 Harry is a cowboy sitting on the biggest oil reservoir in Wyoming, and Louis is the paralegal assigned to pressure him into selling his land.

212 notes • Posted 2021-02-14 16:00:32 GMT

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[since-it-must-be-so]

Choujin X: Chapter 1

So I'm really excited to read more of Sui Ishida's newest manga, and I'm arriving just in time for the front seats! I don't want to let this pass without writing down my thoughts on the first chapter and possibly look at it in the future as the story progresses. You can read it here:

Having said that, please note there will be spoilers ahead!

Tomato Girl

The chapter starts with this cute little girl with that native(?) farmer-like hat, who supposedly grows big fruits (it's huge in Japan, look it up!). I think she will also be a main character since she's the first person we see. From this point I'll call her Tomato Girl. She is obviously from a rural area and is a farmer. We see her motivation is money (and that big dog... which, I think we will see in the future lol). She also wants to marry a "handsome goldilocks hubbie", lol. Wonder if this means she's going to be a love interest of the other cast? She also wants to have 9 kids. Naki and Miza, is that you?! Lol. So here, we have a girl with lofty aspirations! We shall see if any of this will happen or if it will change or if she's lying!

Also an observation - Tomato Girl is also close with her granddad, since she said she's going to the contest in lieu of her granddad (whose back was hurt). She obviously has this strong personality, standing up to the creepy bad guy, who was going to hit the old lady.

Bad Guy

The Bad Guy (since this guy doesn't have a name yet) is obviously a terrorist-for-hire. Also seems to be obsessed with beauty and elegance. I would guess his power lies in blowing things up?

I think, though, that Tomato Girl is a choujin herself, considering she didn't immediately get blown away. Plus, Bad Guy was on fire, and so was she. So, it doesn't necessarily mean Tomato Girl is already dead. She also seems to be reaching out to the Bad Guy as that scene ends.

It's later revealed that despite the plane crash, there were 200 survivors. Hmmmmmmm. Maybe they were turned into choujins?Only the hull was burned but the frame wasn't.

Tokio Kurohara and Azuma Higashi

Yes, the MC! He's notices the plane catching fire. Then, for some reason, Tokio's teacher (Ms. Bazonkas) has a weird voluptuous design. BUT, I think there's something afoot there. She might actually also be a choujin. Possibly a mentor role for Tokio? She seems to be very knowledgeable.

Anyway, going back to Tokio. He's introduced as a sixteen-year-old high school sophomore from Tsuru High. Like any high school kid, he finds studying math to be useless. We're also shown that lives in a district which has destroyed buildings. Possibly dystopian future?

We next find a girl getting harassed by a Mohawk guy and his 2 honchos. Tokio calls for someone, turns out to be Azuma. I just thought it's funny how he called for Azuma, he sounds like a police officer. Haha. But right after, Azuma is introduced, flying from a building.. a very dramatic, heroic entrance. He kinda looks like a hybrid of Haise and Armin from AOT for me. Haha. He's so cute and tiny but he's strong and is apparently the town hero. He breaks the arm of the thug, which Tokio thinks is going too far.

The girl seems to be a pretty girl, and I think she will play a role later on. She's a lot older than them, since she said she's going to an interview. She will possibly a love interest or a villain, but I think more of the latter. I just read CSM so I'm wary of pretty girls lol. Anyway, I think there's something there to link her with Azuma, considering, Azuma introduces both Azuma and Tokio but she only seems to thank or acknowledge Azuma. Tokio even says "don't mention it" even if the girl didn't even thank him, lol.

Azuma and Tokio talk about the plane crash, and it's revealed that choujins seem to abuse their power, and that the attack is kinda normal. We look at their hometown which is really wrecked. Buildings are dilapitated in an abnormal manner -- one building looks like it was done in with a circular force... They live in Yamato Prefecture which is described as an ordinary, self-governed prefecture with some areas partially destroyed. Wonder what self-governed means, but my guess is that it's kinda like a state and the national government is different altogether.

Roly-Poly

Well I never really thought of pill bugs or rolly pollies until I read this. Azuma talks about how roly polies roll around in dry areas and when they find a damp rock, they hide under it. He questions if the roly polies like damp places. And Azuma wonders if choujins are anything like roly-polies. Tokio is confused, so am I. I'm not going to make solid convictions what he means by it, but I think... what Azuma is driving at is that, roly polies and choujins DON'T like damp places. I don't know, I have no reason for this, it's just a guess. We'll see what Azuma means eventually. Haha.

It also appears that choujins are generally bad guys, since Azuma wonders why they don't use their power for good. Maybe something about being a choujin corrupts? Just a guess based on the succeeding events.

They end their conversation with Azuma thinking if he can help with the plane crash. Tokio comments, "seems noble of you" and Azuma says, "it's just a habit". Wonder if Tokio finds Azuma pretentious or if he's genuinely impressed. Azuma's answer is also quite concerning, "just a habit", a question arises if he's sincere in helping in the first place.

The Mohawk Guy

So this guy is supposed to be a funny, evil villain, now bent on exacting revenge from Azuma. Then, a guy (possibly gay guy because he is wearing a lipstick?) with a briefcase offers him an injection.

Tokio's Family

So Tokio has a bigger sister and a dad who seems to be very quiet. Not sure if that's their dad though, it wasn't clear. It's possible they don't have parents anymore and that guy is just an associate. Anyway, it appears that the sister pays Tokio's tuition and she's the breadwinner.

Tokio and his sister talk about Azuma. Azuma is apparently very smart, very athletic (proficient in judo and karate), girls love him, and that his dad is a big shot in the police. The sister questions why Tokio is so proud, and Tokio funnily admits that it's because he feels popular because Azuma is popular. A leech!

Vulture

I just finished re-reading Tokyo Ghoul and :re, and I was blown away by Ishida's art and story. To say I love Kaneki is an understatement. I think I'm going to love Tokio too! I also want to discuss the cover.

So it appears that the cover is the Tokio with an image of a vulture. Tokio is naked and it feels like the vulture is seducing him. From here, I get the vibe that Tokio might be corrupted by the power. "It's something of an affliction" is a dead giveaway. It feels like becoming a choujin or superhuman also corrupts, in a way?

Also since, there seems to be a commentary on the negative view on vultures being scavengers or "steals prey". (Though TBH I always thought vultures wait around for the predator to finish eating and then it eats the scraps??)

On the other hand, Azuma, Tokio's best friend who's mighty strong and brave (almost to a fault), is viewed as a lion by his peers. Also, an uncanny observation is the when Tokio cries about while sitting on the floor, above him is a hyena. Hyenas are known to prey on the carcasses of lions' prey.

It's almost uncanny when Tokio himself says, "I can be a lion too". But Azuma makes Tokio feel better by telling him that buzzards can fly higher than any bird -- telling Tokio to focus on the strength

But even if Tokio admires Azuma, Tokio thinks of telling Azuma when he's going too far. I think this comes from a place of concern. But maybe secretly he's also jealous?

Tokio also even tells Azuma that maybe they should hold hands so Tokio can be more like Azuma, implying that Tokio wants to be like Azuma.

Praying Mantis

Just before Flexi Choujin attacks, Tokio mentions that he bought an insect guidebook and was about to say a factoid about praying mantis near water. I wonder what Tokio was about to say? A search on the internet about praying mantis and water shows this disgusting video of a parasite exiting the praying mantis leaving the mantis to die. Ew. Let's see if this is the factoid Tokio was thinking of. If so, who's the mantis and who's the parasite? Is it Azuma and Tokio, respectively? Hmm. Also, love the insect symbolism. Throwback to Kaneki's centipede!

Flexi Choujin Attack (Johnny Kiyoshi Takeyama)

Mohawk Guy, now a choujin, is a flexi monster who's now more resistant to hits. He attacks Azuma indiscriminately with his new powers. He also kinda goes crazy... His subordinates fear his super violent side, begging him to go back to his "kinda naughty mama boy self", but he ends up snapping their heads off.

For some reason 2 injections fly up into the air?! Maybe someone tossed it. Because as Tokio brought Azuma to the water and brought him back out, he sees the 2 injections. Azuma wants to use it on himself.

Tokio hesitates to have Azuma use it but Azuma insists. Tokio remembers how Azuma saved him from bullies as a kid, and they agreed that Tokio will help Azuma beat the bad guys... Tokio gets the other injection and points to himself. Azuma says Tokio can't but Tokio insists because he feels that it's the only way to stay friends with Azuma. They also promise each other that they will have no regrets over this. This is kinda alarming for me!! Let's see what it will mean in the future.

But instead of both of them transforming into a powerful choujin, only Tokio transforms into one. He looks like a vulture, very beast-like. Looks even like Kaneki's Centipede! I think the other injection might have resulted in a bad/weak power, or maybe it's empty, or maybe Tokio didn't inject Azuma? But I doubt the last one. Anyway, Tokio's choujin look is amazing!

Can't help but feel this scene is related to the praying mantis thing... Maybe my hunch is correct? The parasite exits the mantis when near water, which is why Tokio manages to muster up some courage on his own?

We'll see!! I'm really excited to see this develop. It will be the first manga I will be able to see from the start to finish!

[l000ey]

i got you ━ storm

𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 ━ 𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺 𝗅𝖾𝖾 𝗑 𝖻𝗍𝗌

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀 ━ 𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝖺𝖾𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗀'𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝖺𝗅𝖾𝖽

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 ━ 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗑 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗈, 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗃𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾

𝑨/𝑵 ━ 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝖺 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗍

𝒀𝑬𝑨𝑹 ━ 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟢

• 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮'𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

She laughed at the message Mark had sent her, a stupid instagram meme. She gave it a like while with her left hand she opened the door of the house. She waited to hear the now so familiar screams of the boys when she opened the door but the silence made her raise her head from her phone, she frowned when she saw the seven sitting in the room talking in low voices as if they were sharing secrets, except for Jungkook who was in complete silence staring at the ceiling. She put her bag on the table, the sound of the keys hitting the glass caught the attention of the seven boys.

"What have i done now?" She laughed jokingly as she approached her groupmates. She expected someone to laugh at her joke but none did, not even the slightest smile. Her body tensed as the air in the room thickened.

"We have to talk." Namjoon's serious voice sent a chill run down her spine, she raised an eyebrow leaning against the television cabinet. A memory came to her memory, the situation was very similar to when she almost left the group years ago.

"Uh, okay?" She looked for Yoongi's gaze but he didn't reciprocate as he was very interested in the floor. A pain planted in her chest.

"Did you had sex with Taehyung?" The leader's question almost made her choke on her own saliva, her eyes darted to find the boy who shook his head.

"W-What?" Her voice came out hoarse, suddenly her throat was dry.

They knew it, they knew it and they were going to kick her out of the group. God, she was going to lose her family and everything she had worked for for four quick fucks.

The oldest of the group cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the situation "We know that you and taehyung...you slept together."

"Did you tell him ?!" She exclaimed to Taehyung, shocked and hurt. They had sworn that no one would ever know, for the good of both of them and the group "We agreed that we would not talk about it."

"I didn't say anything" The older's deep voice rang out across the room. The girl snorted in denial and separated her gaze from his.

"Arabella, this is not..."

“Look, it was many years ago and it was only once. You don't have to worry, we have nothing. We're just friends. ”She crossed her arms over her chest interrupting the leader.

"But that doesn't matter!" He raised his voice making everyone jump in their place. His face had turned red and the vein on his neck popped out “Since they put Yoongi hyung, Hoseok, you and me together we decided that nothing could ever happen in the group. Don't you understand how dangerous this is? BTS could go to hell for your hormones!" The leader was angry and it could be clearly seen since he never raised his voice to the girl, he never swore when he addressed her, much less called her by her name.

At that moment she wanted to cry.

“You are stupid! All our work, everything we've suffered could go to shit because of you. Do you understand?" He screamed again and this time a pout formed on her lips, Namjoon's gaze softened for a moment when he saw her like that but he quickly returned to its dark and cold tone "We live scared if at some point someone finds out who you are sleeping with, but this is the last straw".

"Namjoon..." She heard Jin in a mumble but they both ignored him. The only girl clenched her jaw angrily, she hated feeling like this. With tearful eyes she looked up at him.

“I know it was stupid but we were kids. It has not happened again and it will never happen again. I understand that you are angry, but you must stop treating me like if i was a fucking kid. I have sex, I like sex!" She exclaimed approaching him. Yoongi and Hoseok got up quickly in case they had to intervene “I'm not a baby. I'm not fourteen anymore, Namjoon. You can stop being my father, I'm old enought for that" Her tone relaxed, she looked at him sadly but more angrily.

Namjoon barely glanced at her before speaking again, this time with disdain “You have disappointed me, Arabella. I expected more from you, i expected for you to not be a whore”.

A silence filled the room, although it was interrupted by gasps of surprise from some of the members. She opened her mouth, looking at him hurt. This couldn't be happening. She sniffed, looking at him saddened and angry. She wasn't going to cry, she wasn't going to cry "I guess you're not the only one disappointed here."

She went to the table and after taking her bag she approached the door, she looked at him with a sarcastic smile "Ah, I've done threesomes, put it on the list of disappointments."

And with that she left the house. The pale skinned one sighed, drawing everyone's attention.

"Where are you going, hyung?" Jimin's sweet voice brought some peace to the tense situation.

Without looking at him, Yoongi headed for the door as well “I'll go find her. It's late, I don't want something to happen to her”.

"Let me know when you find her." He and Seokjin shared a nod before he left the house. The older of the group turned his head towards the leader "Nam, I can't believe you say that to her."

“Hyung, it was my fault. I kissed her” The other protagonist of the drama confessed looking at how his fingers played between them. He looked up at the youngest rapper in the room "I started it all, it wasn't her fault. After having se-..." He swallowed so hard his throat hurt when the older one glared at him "... doing that she felt very bad about what happened, she even cried".

"Was that why you didn't talk to each other for a whole month?" Jhope shifted instead so he could focus on his donsaeng better "That was in...2010? If I remember correctly" When he nodded Jimin pulled his little hands out of his hoodie pockets and started counting on his fingers, he gasped widening his eyes in surprise.

"You were sixteen and she was fifteen, you were very young."

This time it was Seokjin who gasped as he hit the boy sitting next to him on the shoulder "You perverted my baby!" He brought his hand to his chest in a dramatic "My poor baby."

"Well, it seems that she is not much of a saint either" Jimin's laugh sounded like one of a schoolgirl excited by some rumor.

"No...let's not talk about this anymore" The voice of the dimpled one interrupted the light atmosphere that Jimin and Jin had managed to create to ease the tension. As soon as he spoke the air became thick again. He glared at them from his spot "We won't tell anyone, but I don't want to see Taehyung and Arabella alone. We'll have to keep our eyes open."

"Hyung" Daegu's boy whimpered like a regretful puppy, he opened his mouth to explain that his relationship with Bella was no longer like that but the sound of the eldest Kim's cell phone interrupted him.

The name of the other boy from Daegu was written on the screen when Jin took the phone out of his pocket, quickly accepted the call and put it on the speaker.

"Have you found her? Is she okay?" Hoseok was the first to speak, approaching his hyung almost sitting on top of Jimin, who complained.

"No, I've gone to her apartment but she's not there. I've called some of her friends but Venus won't pick it up, Sunmi is in Japan and Mark says he has no idea pf whre she can be. I can't think of who else to call, I'm going to that coffee shop that she like so much but I doubt she is there. "

Taehyung bit his lower lip bringing his face closer to the phone while the others shared worried glances "Maybe she went to some party, maybe she's at Red sunbaenim's nightclub."

"Jigoku? Nah, it's closed today. I looked at it on their schedule on Google" The wind sounded strong making Yoongi have to raise his voice so they were able to hear him, he frowned when he got to the cafeteria and saw that It was closed. He looked at the time on his rolex, of course it was closed, it was one thirty in the morning. He let out a sigh "The cafeteria is closed."

"Maybe she went to one of our apartments, we all have keys" Jimin shrugged trying to come up with a solution.

"Why would she go to one of our houses having her own?" Yoongi's kick came off the phone again "Yah, Park Jimin that's so stupid."

The grey haired boy made a mini pout "I just wanted to help."

"I think it's not a bad idea, we should at least go check it out" Jin said while Hoseok stroked Park's arm trying to comfort him.

Jungkook got up from his place, all eyes were directed to him since he had not said anything at any time. Namjoon, who had also remained silent, frowned as he saw the maknae disappear down the hall and a few seconds later he returned with his keys in hand.

"Where are you going?".

The smallest of the group looked at him without any expression "To fix your mistake" And then he went out the door making him sigh, he brought his face against his hands.

"These kids are going to kill me one day."

A few minutes later Jungkook found himself in the elevator of the expensive and luxurious apartment building in which the group lived. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, he was angry and hurt but mostly confused. He liked Arabella, fuck liking. He was in love with Arabella Lee and knowing that she had slept with Taehyung didn't help his feelings, of course. He clenched the bunch of keys in his hands, not only was he angry at Arabella, Taehyung and himself but he was also angry at Namjoon. How dare he call her a whore when she looked at him as if he painted the stars and hung the moon in the sky? Namjoon was one of the people Arabella loved the most in this world but he had to open his big mouth while he seeing everything red.

He sighed trying to relax when he started to shiver with anger, he decided to think of something else like where he could find the girl. He got out of the elevator when it opened letting him see the garage full of expensive cars, he went to his but something made him stop in the way. He looked at the green sign that indicated the stairs and below these a panel with the number of floors in the building, a little light came on over his head when he read the word rooftop.

She loved the rooftops, she loved to go up to smoke while she saw the views that the city of Seoul could offer.

"I got you" He smiled and went back to the elevator, pressing the button that led to the top floor, when he reached it he went to the stairs that led to the rooftop. He opened the door and immediately found her, there she was smoking a cigarette exactly as he had predicted.

He sighed again, this time remembering the last time the two of them met on a rooftop. He mentally cursed before approaching her, he gave her a small smile when she looked up and their eyes locked. She did not answer him but after a few seconds observing him without saying anything she got up releasing the white tube and throwing herself at his arms, it was not long until he felt his shirt get wet. He stroked her back lovingly, letting her cry.

"Shh, I got you. Everything is okay" He kissed her hair ignoring the bitter feeling that began to rise in the back of his throat.

[huntective-kyeo]

❗Warning❗ TYPOS, SPELLING, AND GRAMMAR. And English is not my first language. Kinda angry hehehe

This is my first time to post it here and I hope you like it. Feel free to criticize my writing so I can improve.

So enjoy.

FIRST FANFIC

My Father is Dean Winchester

Dean POV

I sat down on the chair and open the lid of the beer. It's been hectic two weeks. Sam and I hunt a witch in Colorado and it took us a week to find the witch and killed it. That witch got Sam to bruise his ankle, and a concussion but thankfully nothing major injuries that needed stitches and so. Most of all the sonavabitch wore witch almost touch and probably hex my Baby which I did make her pay for it.

All in all, it took us a few days to get back at the bunker and now I'm sitting on the chair, probably wanted to eat some pies and get drunk.

My thoughts interrupt when the door opened and I looked up wonder who that person is. My instinct is to grab my trustful gun and aim it towards that intruder. However instead of getting alert, and hunting instinct it exactly quite opposite to what I feel right now.

Third POV.

A girl took a deep breath and with her shaky hand, she holds the handle and she pauses before she opened the door.

She didn't know what to do or what to say. She felt nervous to face them all. She wants to keep it secret however it keeps harder and harder to hide all the symptoms she felt during the last few months.

with heavy heart and soul, she opened the door and wish that bunker is well as empty as when she leaves it a few hours ago.

She didn't notice that the Impala, her first love park on her usual spot, she didn't notice a man sit on the chair seem like thinking something, she didn't notice her dad.

Dean POV

" y/n? " I blurted out. I didn't notice that my daughter y/n leave the bunker without telling us, or wasn't I?

Y/n my precious daughter, my little sunshine, and the only reason aside from my little brother who keeps me alive. 16 years ago Her mother and I met at the bar and happened to have one night stand. I was drunk to forget us condoms. I didn't realize it until, nine months later, Kylia found me and she shove the newly baby born into arms. I didn't hear her rants about not wanting kids because I was so fallen to my baby girl. I swear y/n is the most beautiful baby girl that I've ever seen. From that fateful night, I swore that I protect and love her no matter what.

With the help of my brother and my family, we did a good job raising a finest and yet mini-me y/n which kinda bit frustrated when she becomes a rebellious teenager and seeking for a new way to hunt.

I know that being a father and hunter ain't hood to raise a child in a world full of darkness but I did try my best to become a father that she deserved and not the father that I used to grow up

I again clear up my throat and by the time that I saw her, I know something is terrible up. Called it father instinct. My stomach began to feel something that I don't know if it's about the food or the worriedness about my daughter.

"Where have you been, I told you not to go outside not unless if you needed something but should-" I stumble and am shocked by a sudden hug coming from my daughter. My eyebrows meet and speculate more thoughts about what happened to her during a few weeks.

Then suddenly y/n cried up and my heart broke up thousand of pieces. Through I used to her cry of nonsense but this is different. I can feel it.

I began to think of a different reason why she cried like this. Is she on her period? Did a boy break her heart? If it is, then who? Oh god, my baby girl is heartbroken?! No-no-no.

" Hey, baby girl what's wrong? " I managed to ask a few words as I stroke her hair.

I didn't get her reply as she continues sobbing and sniffing on my chest. I continuously stroke her hair and rubbed a small circle on her back. With her tears I heard, I began to tear up which probably I got hurt when my baby girl gets hurt.

I saw Sam holding a can and some books and gave me confused look. I know he was confused about what is going on and the same as me. I only gave her shrug off before concentrate on keeping her calm down.

I sigh and sing a song that makes her calm down. It's a song that I always sing to her whenever she feels scared and upset. it her lullaby and till now I always sing to her when she felt like this. And now even though she's growing up ain't stopping this.

'Hey Jude, don't make it bad

Take a sad song and make it better

Remember to let her into your heart

Then you can start to make it better'

I sang softly and smile. I heard her sobs subside and her shoulder is no longer tensed. I kissed her head and quietly sing the rest of the song

By the song ends, y/n look up to me and hate to see her red-rimmed eyes and red nose face at me.

" Daddy... "

Y/n POV

After the song finish, I felt quite comfortable and my heart no longer pains me.

" daddy" I called up again. I hate seeing my dad worried glances and I wanted to back down but I know it's too late, now that I cried to his chest, and makes my father worried.

" what's wrong, princess " I nearly chuckle to hear the old nickname that I used to love but hate now. I should give my father annoying and death glares to him but I'm drained and tired to argue with my father.

Instead of the reply to his question, I took a piece of paper inside my leather jacket. With my shaky hand, I hesitate to give it to him. I saw my father unfold the paper and read it.

I know he reads it as I saw his face turn to a worried and horrifying face. I bit my lip as teardrops start to stream to his face and suddenly it aches my heart.

I didn't realize that my uncle Sam was there and he took the paper that my dad read it. My dad was frozen and saw Sam has the same reaction but he stumbled a bit and luckily sat on the chair or else he would hurt more.

The air was tense and several minutes seemed like a century to me as I was forced to see my dad and uncle of their horrifying reaction.

I was about to leave them and lock them up in my room but my dad grabs my wrist and put pressure on it, so I couldn't shove it off, I hesitate to look at his now red-rimmed eyes just like mine.

" Is this true? "

My heart broke as I nod

" when... When did it start? "

I flinched to hear a tone when my dad wanted a straight answer but I could see the difference of it. Instead of deadly and threatened, it's a broken and saddened tone that probably haunt me the rest of my life.

" honey, when did start... " I look up to him as a surprise to hear the familiar fatherly sweet tone that only me can know.

"a few months ago. When you just back from purgatory dad... " I mumble but I know that dad heard it because he mumbles coherent words that I know he's cursing, I wish it's not from me.

Then suddenly my dad sat down on the chair and then he hugged tightly couldn't breathe but slightly loose the tightness but still hugging me

" We can pull this up alright, we will. N/n we will fight this together okay, we'll find ways to rid this shit. We will be on your battle. " I then look up at my father and saw the tense and urging look " we will fight this out but you'll do your job ok, you'll kick this shit out, and keep fighting. Don't give up okay please, little n/n. " I heard him crack as didn't say anything considering, I was crying again and the inky response I can get is nodding.

Then I hug my father again and I feel another wrapped strong arms. I smile softly that uncle Sam joined the party. Now we are Complete, I feel like I'm ready to fight this shut out.

" Winchester is hard to kill, not even cancer. " I chuckle to hear uncle Sammy spoke.

"Yeah right, so you gonna do your part little princess, aright. Don't give up. " My father kiss my forehead. We parted away and wipes the tears we have. We laugh as we sniffle then finally our tears died down.

My father, Dean wipe the remaining tears and I look up to him confused. I saw him sad and regret my eyes and my heart sank.

" I love you N/Niepie, " then he kisses my forehead.

----AND CUT!!! ---

" Nice work J2 and Jodi damn there are no dried tears here " Robert yelled as all the staff and crew wipe their tears. " okay thirty minutes break, Jared, come to me I gotta asked you something" he added.

A group of assistants swarms the actors and did their task. Some wipe their sweats, do makeup, fixing their hair, and so on.

Jensen chuckles a little bit and wipes the remaining tears from his eyes.

" nice job dude, seem like the Days of our Lives gig paid off huh" A sixteen years old, young actress Jodi Smith tease him.

He rolled his eyes and ruffle her hair. " nice try but no you not riding my Baby" Jodi groan and about to reply when her assistant came and whisper to her ear "You're lucky, Mr. Ackles. Robert needs me now but I won't stop bothering you not until I sat on the driver seat and ride the impala".

When Jodi is out of sight, Jensen Ackles began to walk through his trailer. The thirty minutes of break is not enough of yearning for his daughter.

By the time he got inside. He locks it and sits on the couch. He rubbed his tired face as he grabs the old filthy Cinderella wallet. Today scene was emotional to him, not because of the scene itself but because he truly did miss his daughter y/n

In the finale of season 12, alongside Jack Kline played Alexander Calvert, and y/n Winchester played Jodi Smith we're both introduced and a new cast of Supernatural. Jensen was supposed to be glad that there are two new members of their family, but instead, it replaces guilt and dreadful feelings.

It's not the new cast members but the fact that Jodi Smith portrays is seem a great punch to his heart that he starts to realize he still has a daughter that should be taken care of.

No one knows not even Jared. Danneel and the kids, the crew nor the fans knew that the great Jensen Ackles has a secret daughter and only his close family knew about this truth.

" I'm sorry princess, How I wish I was there for you but you know I can't."

Jensen stroke a faded picture of an eight-year-old girl holding a doll whilst hugging the twenty-year-old Jensen Ackles.

" I'm sorry, I love you" he kisses the picture with so much love and tears began to stream down his cheeks

Hope you like it keep safe everyone. Reblog and like will yah.

[katnissmellarkkk]

Gravity

Hi! Okay, so here’s chapter two of my growing back together story, inspired by the prompt “I won’t hurt you” @rosegardeninwinter sent me. I also posted this fic on AO3 under the title Gravity (like the Sara Bareilles song), if that’s where you prefer to read. And here’s a link to chapter one of this fic if you wanna read and haven’t yet.

Also I know I said in my first author’s note that there will be three chapters, but there might be a bit more.... we love an over-writer, right? 🤷🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

I don’t know if you’re “supposed” to post every part of a multi chapter fic on here? Or just post the link to it on AO3? But for now I posted it in its entirety on here 😊.

Anyways, hope you like it! And thanks to anyone who reads! 💖💖💖

/

A couple months later.

We slide back after that. I don't know if that night-the night he had a nightmare that I died and we slept locked in each other's embrace-moved too quickly for Peeta or if he thought he was protecting me from him, but when morning light came, he was gone from the bed.

I didn't see him again until the following evening, helping Haymitch feed his rambunctious geese in the yard. He didn't speak to me for four more days after that, and when he did, it was to ask what kind of bread I wanted him to bring for lunch the next day.

I pretended to his face that it didn't hurt. That waking up in a cold, empty bed, in a house he all but abandoned until I had evacuated, that sleeping in his arms and awaking so abruptly alone, didn't hurt. I did what I had taught myself to do as a child and I turned my features into an indifferent mask, shutting off all access to my emotions. Destroying any possibility of anyone witnessing my vulnerabilities.

But I knew deep down, it did hurt. It hurt badly.

I didn't speak to him directly the first week he showed up for lunch and to work on the memory book again. I got by fine without addressing him directly, as Haymitch somehow sensed the bubbling tension between us and stayed sober just enough to remain alert for all our shared meals. He helped with the memory book, helped by adding in a snarky comment here or there to reel our focuses onto him instead of each other.

I wanted to say thank you but I never knew how. I doubt Haymitch needs me to verbalize it anyway. One night, as he follows behind Peeta to leave, his hand grazes my shoulder and gives it a squeeze and I know he's much more aware of the dynamic between his old tributes than he leads on.

But weeks after the night in question, the night that set Peeta and my friendship back months, we receive a telegraph from Effie. A telegraph that shakes the small amount of stability we've managed to build in the time since the war.

Apparently President Paylor has decided to move forward with arena destruction, an idea mentioned a few times by Plutarch on Caesar's talk show. An idea I didn't take seriously until now.

Paylor has decided to build a memorial for each of the arenas, for each year the games ever took place, to immortalize our history, so Panem can never forget how cruel and inhumane things once were. But first, she wants to eliminate the actual Hunger Games arenas, once and for all, before putting the memorials in their place.

My initial thought, months ago when Delly showed me Plutarch and Caesar discussing the idea, was that this would takes years to happen.

I was, once again, so clearly wrong. The plans have been expedited and the order in which each arena will be decimated has been swiftly decided.

All that alone doesn't sound terrible. I'd like to see those death pits crushed, burned, torn down, eradicated, or all of the above, by any means necessary. Only downside, initially, is that this will extend me—and Peeta and potentially all the other victors—remaining in the forefront of the public's mind.

Since the war, all I've ever wanted was for everyone in the country to forget who I am. I don't want to be known anymore. I just want to be left alone, to a quiet and peaceful and relatively simple life, without anyone ever recognizing me again. Without anyone thinking of me as the girl on fire, as the Mockingjay, as the sixteen-year-old who volunteered for a sister who was doomed to death anyway.

But, of course, there's a catch. There's always a catch.

Plutarch thinks it would be great to have the living victors be there—televised—in the Capitol and see the arenas before they're bulldozed.

Even with this dreadful proposition, I thought I had time to think of a way out of it. When Effie first sent the telegraph, I thought that I would have years before having to worry about going back to the places where my nightmares started.

Well, some of my nightmares, that is.

After all, it takes time to destroy something as large and as vast as an arena-excluding the way I destroyed the one in the Quell, that is. I figured-I rationalized, really-that by the time they got to number Seventy-Four, I would have a solid excuse to get out of attending.

I guess though they wished to start with the big years and the first decade of the Hunger Games wasn't very eventful, apparently—lucky them—so the first arena they wish to bid farewell to is the one from the second Quarter Quell. The Fiftieth Hunger Games. The one that was so strikingly beautiful and almost entirely poisonous.

The year Haymitch Abernathy, from the lowly District Twelve, won.

And being also from Twelve, my presence, along with Peeta's, suddenly became of the utmost importance as well.

At first, I still try to opt out of the event. Even after Effie chastises me over the phone, like not a day has passed since she was my escort, and even after my mother claims in her letter that it could be cathartic for me, I do not relent.

Delly and Thom and a few of the others in the community, like Kanon who runs the candy shop two stores away from the bakery, and Greta, who helps with the dusting and mopping all over town, try to say that it could be good for me. Greasy Sae claims it can't be worse than actually living through the games, and I silently appreciate her much more blatant statement than the comforting platitudes others try to provide me.

But it all falls on deaf ears in the end.

Because the only person I truly listen to is Peeta. Even bitter and wounded, the only person I really hear is him.

Unfortunately, as irritating as it is sometimes, his voice will always reach me when others can't.

But we don't ever have an actual conversation about it. Five days after Effie calls to announce the news, to tell me unequivocally that my presence is requested, Peeta sways me to go with just a look.

He comes over later than usual and brings extra bread and pastries to go with the deer meat I hunted. We feast silently, the air between us still incredibly awkward, when, without warning, our old mentor comes crashing through the door unceremoniously.

I don't know how much alcohol he consumed, but it's enough to knock even someone with Haymitch's tolerance off his feet.

By the end of the hour, the older man is practically beating his head into the wall of my dining room, screaming the names of dead children and about force fields and axes. And from across the kitchen table, Peeta touches my arm—the first time he's voluntarily touched me in weeks—and my eyes meet his, blue pouring into gray, and silently he begs me to go for the goodbye ceremony to Haymitch's arena.

And I give in. Not just for him. But also, in large part, to repay the caustic, miserable drunk that kept us alive. To support the unpredictable, temperamental man that I do consider my family somehow.

The ceremony is set to take place weeks later and the time does little to alleviate my anxiety. Peeta and me still don't speak much, but come time for lunch or dinner, there he is, in my house like clockwork.

When I point out, a few days before we're due at the train station, that there's a very realistic possibility that the Capitol won't let me go to the ceremony, Peeta casually says, "I already cleared that with Effie and Plutarch."

I shoot him a look of surprise. "You did?"

Shrugging nonchalantly before turning back to the rabbit on his plate, he murmurs quietly, "Thought it'd give you one less thing to worry about."

The ceremony is nothing like I expect. Somehow I figured there would be an obnoxiously large television crew, loud speakers, prepared speeches on written cards, awkward directions and crowds upon crowds of people surrounding us, asking pointed questions, shooting invasive stares and pressing for reactions to their nosy accusations. I expected those accusations to be directed at me and Peeta especially.

Instead, there's none of those things. There's no crowd at all, it's just us victors. Just Enobaria, Johanna, Annie, the three of us from Twelve and Beetee—who I still can't make myself so much as look at, reminded of my sister's absence and his role in it every time we so much as stand in five feet vicinity of each other.

The camera crew consists of Mitchell, Pollux and Cressida, along with two unfamiliar, but seemingly non-threatening faces. There's no directions, no prompting, not close ups or reshoots.

All that happens is Paylor makes a statement that the crew films, stating that the arenas will be destroyed one by one, and in the place of each there will be an individual memorial made, as we victors stand in an unorganized, crooked line that will surely make Effie cringe when she sees the footage on television later.

It's almost peaceful, I think to myself in surprise, as I look around at the location. The sky is a stunning cobalt, even more brilliant in person than in the video Peeta and I watched on the train so long ago. The meadow looks like the grass is fresh, like it was just watered yesterday. The mountain is so breathtaking I have to physically tear my eyes away from it and even the woods look rather cozy. Or maybe that part is just me.

There's also arraignments of flowers, just like in the footage we watched, that spill every which way, filling our noses with soothing, floral scents. It feels unnatural to say about a place set up for murder, but with the deadly poisons lurking at every turn eviscerated, I almost can find this arena truly beautiful.

Of course though, it's not my arena.

It's Haymitch's and he looks like he's about to be sick. He's white-knuckled it for a few days without any sort of drink—to my, Peeta's and, even Effie's, visible shock—and I can see plainly now that he's absolutely regretting it. His eyes are hallow and wild at the same time and I can see his shaking palms beneath the sleeves of his jacket as he stares out at the source of his every nightmare for the last quarter century.

It shocks me that he didn't find a way out of this. Actually, it shocks me still that these ceremonies are even possible.

I never knew they kept arenas after the games were over each year. I never realized they kept all seventy-four death pits, haunted by child sacrifice, the way you keep old vases on a shelf.

At this point though, it's just another thing to add onto the growing list of horrific and unthinkable issues that the Capitol doesn't even grasp. Keeping the haunted graveyards of children as souvenirs shouldn't sit right with anyone, I don't care how you're raised.

I tell myself to not be so quick to judge, as I can't know who I'd be if I had been born in the Capitol instead of the districts. Still, the idea of condoning the things they have without remorse or shame seems unthinkable.

I'm torn out of my thoughts when Cressida speaks. "Is there anything you'd like to say, Haymitch, before we finish filming?"

Once again, catching me off-guard entirely—he's full of all sorts of surprises evidently—Haymitch clears his throat and looks down at his leather boots before speaking. "Ardor. Garnett. Dolan. Silver. Ryker. Artemis. Slayte. Pistol. Lex. Mac. Lumen. Gig. Brook. Aqua. Mary. Ripley. Lyme. Watt. Rocky. Gio. Belle. Raven. Kia. Mecko. Barker. Jack. Holly. Briar. Essie. Stitch. Coco. Paul. Mira. Miller. Coop. Harvey. Butch. Cutter. Bea. Skinna. Basil. Sunny. Rip. Spring. Oaker. Terra. Maysilee." He lists off the names in a way that is so matter-of-fact that it would almost be robotic if it weren't for the hoarseness in his tone that grows stronger with every name he utters. He hesitates for only a moment before adding, "Corentine. Alannah. Alastar."

There's a long stretch of silence, where no one speaks, no one blinks, no one even breathes. We all know instinctively who these people are—I know solely from Maysilee Donner's name being called—but we still wait until Haymitch speaks again, to confirm our assumption.

"Those are the names of all the people this arena killed." His eyes grow glassy and his brow furrows in anger as he fights desperately to repress his emotions, and suddenly I have the strangest urge to hug my mentor, to make him feel better like he tried to do for me once when Peeta was stuck in the Capitol and I was distraught. But I know it wouldn't be appreciated or wanted, and quite honestly I'm glad for that, because I don't even know what to say.

The last three names Haymitch said stick in my head for some reason I can't explain other than an odd gut feeling. But then he speaks again, an in a voice growing gruffer by the second, he says right into the camera, "that's every single person who was killed because of the second Quarter Quell."

And, like I should have known all along, it hits me the last three names are the names of his family who were murdered to punish him for the stunt with the forcefield.

The last three names are the murders of the last people he loved. Until me and Peeta came along.

As if his thoughts matched mine, Haymitch suddenly shakes his head and his eyes widen again as he stares past all the rest of us, as he continues to take in the exact place in which life as he knew it, twenty-six years ago, was altered forever.

His reaction is more understandable and genuine than I imagined he would ever allow it to be, especially on camera, and I want to say something but me and him both aren't good at saying anything, and I find myself looking to Peeta, hoping he'd know what to do.

Peeta doesn't meet my gaze though. He's solely focused on our mentor and just when he opens his mouth to speak, the older man to suddenly shake his head in our general direction and clears his throat.

"I'm done. Tell Plutarch I'm done with this crap. Just hurry up and bulldoze this place so I can go back to Twelve," is all he says to Cressida as he storms off, but his voice is rough and caustic once again, and I can only hope he recovers from this event soon enough.

Somehow, witnessing Haymitch relive his games, even through the shield he so obviously puts up to the outside world, triggers me though. For some reason, I feel my eyes begin to water as I look around at the meadow, at the mountain, at the golden cornucopia, and wonder how anyone could build a place where kids would eventually go to die? How could anyone have ever been so inhumane? How could a country just accept it? How did we live for so long with the Hunger Games overtaking our lives and still remained complicit? I don't understand. The more time passes, the more days I'm separated from the war and from the old world and the old way of life, I just can't comprehend anymore how we ever lived in a place so horrific.

I feel my eyes spill over and I'm grateful that Cressida has stopped filming already, because if Plutarch saw any tears on film, he would make certain it ended up on television.

I wipe my tears with the heel of my hand, trying to go about it as subtly as I can, hoping no one else notices. For the most part, I'm golden. Enobaria is already exiting, with Beetee following not far behind. Jo's back is to me while she speaks to Annie, though as per usual, she seems to be irritated.

Of course, it's too much to ask for everyone to remain oblivious to my waterworks. Even as I rid myself of them before they become widely noticeable, I feel Peeta's eyes train on me and know, despite the distance between us for the last few weeks, he isn't going to ignore my upset.

To my surprise though, he doesn't speak. He doesn't utter a single syllable.

Instead, I feel his large, warm palm slip into mine and squeeze tightly, lacing our fingers together, in a way we have done thousands of times before. Like two puzzle pieces coming together to complete a picture, like two indivisible teammates that will fight against anything that is thrown their way, like two halves of a whole finally finding each other, his hand grasps mine with a vengeance and I know I won't be the one who let's go.

He's still holding my hand when we board the train, hours later.

//

A couple weeks later.

"Yes, Mrs. Greenstead, I will get the chocolate nut loaf and a platter of the cranberry cookies wrapped up for you... Yes, it will be ready by the time you arrive... No, I promise they won't be cold," Peeta assures through the bakery telephone—a new addition that Thom and his wife thought was necessary to run a proper bakery. So necessary they bought it for Peeta as an opening gift.

It's not that the gesture wasn't nice or that Peeta didn't deeply appreciate it. I personally saw that he did, wholeheartedly.

But seeing it on the wall every day was just another reminder to me of my own personal vendetta against the integration between the Capitol's way of life and the districts'.

The only place telephones used to exist, outside of the Capitol limits, was the houses in Victor's Villiage, and if I'm being honest, I wish it would have stayed that way.

Maybe I'm being selfish, as I happen to still reside inside a house that once belonged to the said village, therefore I already had experienced this luxury prior to the new world. But I just can't make myself break the association between the items that had recently become readily available for all and the horror that was the Capitol.

Still though, the change was inescapable Telephones, cameras, heating pads, curling irons, quick bake ovens, cars and so many other items, were all growing in popularly across each district. Not that I was able to see a lot of these changes personally. But letters from Annie and my mom, and the occasional—unprompted and yet still begrudged—call from Jo, all kept me informed. Sometimes more informed than I wished to be.

Maybe I would feel entirely different if these inventions were brand new to me. But they aren't. I'd seen and used every one of them before. Their novelty had always been lost on me, perhaps because my only experience them was while inside the Capitol, surrounded by tacky colors and strong rose scents and itchy materials, headed for a death match, my life and the lives of those I cared always at great risk.

Of course, the new item in the bakery did make some things easier. Days like today are a perfect example.

Harvest Day is only one day away and everyone is coming in for their breads and their desserts. Peeta says it was always one of the most popular days, for as long as he can remember. Only difference is, before the war only Peacekeepers and town folks could afford to purchase anything. And generally, most citizens who even did come in, could only purchase a limited amount of items.

Not now. I don't know where everyone in Twelve was coming up with the money or if Peeta's prices are just a drastic drop from that of his mother's, but today, I swear I've seen every citizen in town inside the bakery.

Makes me glad that the portrait of me is hanging in the back, where no one else can see it. As pretty as it may be, as talented as Peeta is, I don't want a giant version of me displayed for all to see.

"Here you are," I politely say, handing two loaves of warm bread to a man who must be new to Twelve, as I've never seen him before. I'm debating on asking if he moved here recently when he passes a bill to me over the top of the pastry display.

"Thank you, hon." He smiles at me, looking at me a little too closely for my liking, as he swiftly walks out the door. His exit is met with the arrival of Val, a boy Peeta and I went to school with, who definitely was more Peeta's crowd than mine.

Val is a regular customer at the bakery, having always genuinely liked the Mellark family. His parents owned a small carpentry shop four spaces down from the bakery, and even with both them dead, he and his two sisters rebuilt the store, taking over their parents' legacy.

Peeta though is more focused on me now than Val's order. "Give me a second," he calls to his old friend, a little less polite than he had been all morning. "Katniss, what's wrong?" He asks urgently, seeing the look in my eyes.

I shake my head and push away the anxiety threatening to close in on me. "Nothing, just..." I hesitate, not even wanting to say it. Peeta's gaze refuses to lessen though and I sigh before finally mumbling, "That guy. He creeped me out. The way he was looking at me so closely..."

Peeta's hand touches my arm for a brief moment before pulling it away, making it obvious that he regrets the small act of even so much as touching me. But his words are still calming and they relax me a little. "He's gone now, Katniss. And if he scares you, I won't let him come back, okay? There's nothing anyone can do to you or me anymore. We're safe."

I nod, knowing the words like the back of my hand at this point, as it's the same mantra we always repeat to each other, every time one of us begins to panic or flail. But still, I open my mouth to refuse his offer. I don't want Peeta to turn away any sort of business. Not with the unpredictability and uncertainty this new world still rests on. We never know if the bakery will sell anything tomorrow or if all sort of income will soon dry up.

And we're the lucky ones, financially speaking, who were rich before the war and allowed—in a generous declaration by President Paylor—to keep the entirety of our money after. I don't have to imagine the anxiety others in the country must be in, knowing the curse of poverty all too well. I wouldn't wish that feeling on anyone.

"I don't want you to turn away people," I say quietly. "Not on my account. You need business to keep this place afloat."

"I have plenty of money, Katniss," he reminds me, a little darker than I expect. "And I'd rather you feel safe than own a popular shop."

His words unexpectedly touch me, unexpectedly cut right down to the depth of my bones, exposing my soft underbelly. I'm about to do something stupid, like touch his hand, when Val makes his presence known again. "Your shop is already the most popular in the district," he points out, not even a little ashamed for having listened to our conversation. "And besides, why don't you just look at the guy's name? Maybe you can look him up, see if he's alright or not."

Peeta gets a glint in his eye. "That's a good idea, Val, thank you." As he moves towards the register to, I can only suppose, look for the man's receipt with his name and signature, he gestures to his school friend. "Katniss can get your order."

I shoot him a glare, only half kidding. I did come to help out, here and there, today but I did not intend to be an actual expected employee. For free, no less.

Instead of saying anything though, I just grab Val his three cinnamon rolls, his two snack cakes, four bagels, white chocolate donut and a loaf with raisins and cranberries.

Val, like Delly Cartwright, was always one of the few people in Twelve who had a few pounds to spare.

Peeta has a type of friend.

"Found it," Peeta now calls, bringing over a slip of paper to where I'm handing Val his three bags of treats. "His name was Rod Catamaran."

Me and Val, for the first time perhaps, exchange a look between us. "That's an odd name for Twelve."

"I've never even heard that name before."

"He may not even be from Twelve, guys," Peeta says.

I roll my eyes. "Because a bombed out district is really a tourist attraction."

"Hey, none of that," Thom calls as he walks through the front door of the bakery, with Kanon Bagley on his heels. "We've rebuilt this place beautifully and negativity is not appreciated here."

"Yeah, Katniss," Peeta chimes in, teasing me. I'm about to kick him in his only real leg, as we're the only two behind the counter and no one else will see, when Kanon speaks up.

"Can I buy a couple of pastries?"

"Of course," Peeta says kindly, walking around me to personally grab the two items Kanon requests.

Kanon is new to Twelve. One of the few new additions this place gained after all that went down. He's a large man in his early twenties, with dark skin and dark hair and eyes to match. But the only times I've ever interacted with him, he's quiet as a mouse, his eyes a little forlorn at all times and he offers more discounts then he should at the candy shop he recently opened next to the bakery.

He's from District Eleven originally and it takes no real critical thinking to realize he had a hard life, even before the war.

I'm far too familiar with the look of scars etched across the eyes. So is Peeta.

That's why, when Kanon looks down at the money in his hand and realizes he doesn't have enough to afford both pastries, Peeta immediately brushes it off. "That's okay, they're on the house," he instantly promises, handing the small bag over to Kanon with a gentle smile.

"No, I don't want to take it without-"

"I made way too much," Peeta insists, lying outright to make it appear Kanon would be doing him a favor. I know he didn't make too much, because we've been flying through everything today and keeping the ovens hot in case more is needed.

Still though, I back up the fib. "He did. We've been wondering all day how we were gonna sell enough stuff so we don't have to feed the leftovers to Haymitch's geese."

Kanon glances between us shyly, before taking the bag from Peeta's hand and slipping the few dollars he does have into his pocket again. "Thank you," he says softly and turns to leave.

Thom pats Kanon on the back as he passes him, before turning to follow. When the other man isn't looking, he turns back to us subtly and mouths, "thank you."

I wanted to tell him not to thank me. I only watched Peeta make this food, I didn't assist by any stretch of the imagination. I didn't own the bakery or do anything with the money or finances. It was not my choice to give things away for free.

But I'm far too focused on the boy in front of me to say any of that. The boy with the bread, the boy who isn't really a boy anymore. The boy who just gave away food for no reward at all, even on the most demanding and strenuous day all year for his business. The boy who just showed Kanon Bagley the same kindness I begged someone-anyone-to show me at eleven-years-old and not one single person did.

Except for him. He did for me all those years ago what he did for Kanon just now, and I suddenly have the most inexplicable, irrepressible urge to kiss Peeta right then and there, in the middle of the bakery.

I don't, however, and it's for once not because I lost my courage. It's because the door swings open again, just as Val exits right behind Kanon and Thom.

It's the same man from earlier. "Hi," Peeta greets, this time not at all sweet. Clearly recognizing the man as the one who made me nervous before. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," the man affirms, his tone brighter than you'd expect given our chilly reception. And our blatant wariness for anyone new. "I forgot to get a pecan butter cake before?"

There is a beat where me and Peeta exchange a look, before I awkwardly move towards the display case and begin to pack up his item. Peeta waits for me to decide to help the man before starting to ring him up.

"That was a nice thing you both just did," the man says as he patiently watches me fold the white waxy paper over his pastry. "For that guy."

"You were watching?" Is the only thing that comes out of my mouth.

"Only for a moment," he explains, his tone still friendly. Either he doesn't know how to read people at all or he's the most even keeled person in Panem.

Because I know I'm being rude, to a man who maybe doesn't even deserve it, I force myself to say one thing conversational. "This is my mom's favorite dessert," I offer, gesturing to his cake.

The man raises his eyebrows in an act that looks almost feigned. "Really?"

I instantly regret trying to be even slightly pleasant. Even his mannerisms seem fake. I'm contemplating if I should say anything else or go hide in the back room with the warm ovens and my portrait, when Peeta presses a button and the register dings.

He's about to say the total when the strange man shakes his head and hands to me directly an unfamiliar bill over the display case. "Have a nice day, you two," he calls, grabbing his cake and swiftly walking out.

It's not until he's gone, not until I have a moment to process the second weird encounter with the odd person, that I even glance down at the crisp bill he handed me.

It's a bill with a larger number on the back than I've ever personally seen before. I knew these kinds of dollars existed—I'm sure I could have gotten plenty after my first games—but I'd never seen one in the flesh.

Peeta sees my reaction. "What is it?" His voice sounds alarmed and he's stepping closer to me, but all I can do is gasp out his name.

"Peeta, look." I hold up the bill and point to the number on the back.

His eyes widen too, taking in the amount with a dizzy smile. Of both relief that nothing's wrong and excitement at the digit.

"Do you think it was a mistake?" I ask suddenly, looking over my shoulder towards the window, wondering if we should track the man down and give him his money back, before he evaporates into thin air.

"No?" Peeta shakes his head, the wheels in his mind turning quicker than mine. His face turns to that of elation, as the large bill takes some pressure off the bakery's sales. "No, he said he saw us give Kanon a break. He was giving us something in return."

I'm about to say something else, I don't even know what, but it all flies out of my head when Peeta suddenly wraps his arms around my waist and swiftly pulls me into his embrace.

My entire body goes into lockdown and hypervigilance at the same time. I can't move an inch but it feels like every nerve in my body is abruptly tingling and on fire.

My sweater lifts up slightly and his bare arms graze my lower back, eliciting a shiver to run involuntarily down my spine as his face buries into my hair.

I wrap my arms around his neck after a beat when I can make myself move again, and I feel him smile against my skin. I'm so glad at that moment he's holding me up, because if he wasn't supporting my weight I'd probably crash to the floor, unable to even feel my legs beneath me.

And, as a rush of heat shoots out from the place where Peeta's lips brush my collarbone, I suddenly feel only gratitude, not irritation, at the strange Rod Catamaran.

//

Four days later.

The world surrounding me is green. Green and brown and fire-bitten and scorched. Every which way I spin, there's embers soaring from that direction too, waiting to lick me with their burning flames, ready to decimate me once and for all.

But through the smoke and haze, I still can see between the trees two blonde braids. I still can see a small figure standing on the other side of the fire. I still can see her shirt that's come untucked in the back, creating a duck tail that I desperately want to fix.

Just as I notice her, she whirls around to face me, her blue eyes big and bright and terrified. "Katniss!" She screams, the same way she did the last day she was alive. "Katniss, help! They're coming!"

I don't know who's coming or what's happening or where we even are, but all I feel is relief somehow. Relief that she's here, that I'm in her presence again, that she's almost within my reach. Instinctively I call out, "Prim!" Just so I can finally get a response to the name I've been shouting into oblivion for almost a year now.

"Katniss, help me!" She cries again and then looks over her shoulder. She's not talking about the fire between us, as it doesn't seem too intent on heading towards her.

I don't know what's coming or who she's afraid of, but my instincts now go into overdrive. My body suddenly snaps into alert and I whip my head around, to see if I can find an opening in the fire closing in on me, if I can find a way to get to the sister I lost what feels like only yesterday, if I can find a way to save her this time.

There's no gap in the fire though. It's crowded around me, front, back and side to side. The more seconds that pass by, the closer the fire folds into my proximity, and I have to brace myself before making a split-second decision.

But it's not really a decision at all. Prim needs me and I cannot fail her. I have to save her this time.

I take a bold step directly into the fire, with every intention of running through it somehow. Of running past the wild embers, scorching myself no doubt, but still making it over to my distressed, frightened little sister. But it doesn't work like I expect.

But really, does anything?

These flames are nothing like the fires I've encountered before. And I've been around more fire in my life than anyone ever should.

No, these flames don't burn me. They don't hurt me or put me through agony or singe me to pieces. They don't melt off my makeshift coat of skin and they don't further decimate it either.

Instead the fire feels like almost nothing. Like something almost itchy, something almost irritating, something almost painful. Something that make me want to squirm and scream and escape all at the same time.

Which is real ironic considering what else it seems these flames do.

They seem to hold me into place. The second I'm in their hold, instead of the horrific pain I thought I'd be in, I'm trapped in a series of almost nothing.

I'm not in excruciating pain physically, but seeing my sister standing ten feet from me, and not being able to move any closer, not being able to protect her from whatever she's terrified of, is worse than any amount of injury this fire could have inflicted.

"Katniss!" Prim screams now, her voice only growing in its frantic nature. "Help! Why won't you come help me?"

I try to scream, try to tell her I want to but I can't move. But it turns out that these flames also paralyze vocal muscles.

"Peeta's dying!" Prim yelps out, looking behind her again, her hands beginning to shake in a way she almost never let them in life. She always tried to keep it together, to remain calm and rational in a crisis.

Her words elicit something entirely new inside of me though. "Peeta?" I yell in confusion, my voice suddenly no longer paralyzed.

"They're killing him! Katniss, please, why won't you come here? We need you!" Prim is close to hysterical now and frankly, so am I.

"I'm trying! I just," I move my hands down my body, trying to push the flames away as they rises up to my chest, trying to just break free from these fiery chains once and for all. "The fire, Prim! I can't get out of the fire."

Prim's voice drops then, loses all source of fear, every ounce of panic. Loses any semblance of emotion. "Katniss, there is no fire," she states blankly, her eyes looking directly at the embers covering my stomach and legs. "There's nothing there."

I just look at her for a moment, completely speechless. Her words are inconceivable, her eyes are haunted now, her facial expression is unrecognizable. Even her voice doesn't sound like hers anymore.

Before I can comprehend what's happening, in the distance a gunshot goes off.

Prim delicately glances over her shoulder now, her blue eyes cold as ice. "He's dead," she informs clinically, before sighing deeply, her tone almost disappointed. "And so am I."

I don't know what happens next or how it occurs, but I fly upwards in my bed with such a start, I give myself whiplash.

I hear a loud screeching noise hanging in the air, a hoarse trepidation that almost makes me feel better. I don't know why but someone else screaming in the middle of the night gives me hope, as sick as that may be.

Only it's not someone else, I realize, as my throat burns raw. I realize with startling clarity that I'm the only making all the noise. I'm the one shaking so tremendously. I'm the one who is sobbing.

"Shhh," a voice whispers against the darkness, and I flail involuntarily at the shock. "Sorry, sorry," Peeta instantly apologizes, his hands gripping my arms with a little too much intensity, trying to still my shaking. "It's okay, Katniss, you were just having a nightmare."

His words do precious little to calm me down though. "She was there," I cry, the image, the feeling, of Prim standing only ten feet from me and not being able to reach her too painful for me to unsee.

"Who was there?" He asks tenderly, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. "Katniss, breathe."

I don't even bother listening to his advise. I haven't exhaled since I was eleven. "Prim was there. She was begging me to save her and then I couldn't, I was trapped but-but," I cut myself off, unable to form coherent words and thoughts any longer.

Peeta gets the gist though. "Come here," he whispers and pulls me into his arms, like he used to on the train, when my nightmares woke us both three times a night. "I'm so sorry, Katniss," he says softly now, and rubs my back in a way that elicits goosebumps. His way of trying to soothe my shaking. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"You died too," I blurt out then. I don't even know why I feel inclined to tell him.

"What?"

"I was stuck and I couldn't speak and then Prim said you were going to die and I got scared enough that I could talk again and I thought-I thought," I stumble breathlessly, my tears pouring out against his shoulder now.

I feel his lips touch my cheek and I'm too upset to revel in the feeling of blood rushing there. "It was just a nightmare," he promises.

But my sentiment is unfinished. "I thought I could break free, that I could-"

"Katniss," he halts, still holding me in his embrace, rocking me slightly. "It wasn't real. I promise you, it wasn't real."

Those words, the words so often said to him by me, ring a bell that I didn't want to ring. It snaps me back into reality abruptly and without warning, I feel like my chest is going to collapse.

Because this means Prim wasn't really there, that she still is as dead as she was yesterday, that I still watched her explode into pieces all over the bombsite in the Capitol.

I still failed to protect her.

Peeta pulls back slightly then and rests his forehead against mine. "It's okay, Katniss," he says again, trying to calm my trembles by rubbing my arms up and down.

"How are you in my house?" I realize, with an intense sudden clarity. "How are you here? Are you real or am I still-"

He quickly puts me out of my misery. "You gave me a key, remember? A long time ago? We gave each other keys to our houses."

Oh. Right. I forgot all about that when he had his nightmare, didn't I?

Good thing he's an idiot who keeps his door unlocked at night.

He's explaining further before I can think to ask. "I heard you having a nightmare from my house. That's why I rushed over here."

I'm caught between embarrassment and gratitude. "Sorry, I really don't know what brought it on."

"Hey," he quietly reprimands, lifting my chin now to meet eye contact. "Don't apologize. No one understands nightmares like me."

I nod, accepting his words, though still a little uncomfortable with screaming for all the district to hear at two in the morning.

Then again, our entire neighborhood is Haymitch and the two of us, and our mentor was drinking like a fish last night so really, the only person who could have heard me is already sitting directly in my eye line.

To punctuate his words, when I don't respond verbally, he lifts my hand up and brings it to his lips tenderly.

And I don't know what comes over me or why. I don't know if it's because we've been growing closer again lately or if I just haven't felt his arms around me since days ago in the bakery and I miss the feel of it desperately, but I find myself abruptly throwing my body around his before I can talk myself out of it.

He catches me easily, like he anticipated my reaction and sways me for a long moment, until my breathing begins to even itself out.

"Will you stay?" I rasp into his neck, as I feel his hand tangles in my matted locks.

"Always."

[msmarvelouswinchester]

What The Heart Wants

Summary - Dean thinks his heart's deepest desire is to cast Michael out of his head but is that really his heart's deepest desire?

Pairing - Dean x Reader

Warning - Angst, Swearing TW : Character Death

A/N - This is written for @katymacsupernatural Make Me Feel Challenge (I hope you cry a little lol)

My prompt was "I don't want an apology"

Spn divider by @talesmaniac89

Beta'd by the lovely @deanwanddamons

"I don’t know. I-I guess you – you hold the pearl and – and concentrate on what your heart desires," Sam said and gave Dean the pearl

"You think it will work?" Dean said looking at the pearl in his hand.

"I guess so," Sam frowned.

"Michael outta my head. Got it,” Dean said and balled up his fist.

"See, it didn't work’” Dean scoffed, "I can still feel Michael in my head banging those doors.”

"Dean?" Dean turned around and his breathing hitched at the sight of you. He couldn't believe his eyes. You looked the same as the last time he saw you.

"Y/N?" Dean said and walked towards you. He stretched out his hands, tangling his fingers with yours. You weren't an image his mind was conjuring up. You were real.

"De, wh-what is this place? Who-are you Sam? Shouldn't you be in college?"

"College? No,” Sam narrowed his eyes at the unknown girl in front of them.

"Dean, what's happening? Why are we here? Shouldn't we be in Omaha?" You looked around the place with confusion in your eyes.

"Omaha? What year is this?" Dean asked.

"2004.” You said.

"No. It's 2020. I think-I think we summoned you.”Dean's voice cracked at the end.

"Summoned me?" You frowned at his words.

"Yeah. Dean, can I talk to you for a second?" Sam asked Dean with his brows raised.

"S-sure", Dean said, his eyes still focused on you, "stay here.” Dean reluctantly let go of your hand. He thought that you would disappear into thin air once he lets you out of your eyesight. He followed his brother to another section of the bunker. Sam started to speak when he realised you were out of their earshot.

"Who is she?" Sam asked.

"Her name is Y/N. She's a hunter. I met her during a ghost hunt after you went off to college. I was hunting alone - Dad was god knows where. She's the toughest hunter I know. She had saved my ass on that ghost hunt,” Dean smiled softly at the memory.

"Then why haven't I met her? How did you summon her?" Sam started firing various questions at his brother.

"You don't know her 'cause she died,” Sam looked up at Dean in surprise, "And I don't know why I summoned her.”

"You had the pearl. It definitely has something to do with you Dean.” Sam frowned at the older Winchester.

"I don't kn-" Dean started to say, but stopped when he noticed Sam frowning at him, "I summoned her maybe because I wanted some more time with her. I loved her Sammy.”

Sam saw something in Dean's eyes he never thought he would see. A small smile was playing on Dean's lips and his eyes shone with a sliver of happiness in them. Sam understood in that moment how important you were to his brother.

"Come on, let's go and properly meet Y/N", Sam said and went back to the library of the bunker,Dean following him.

"It's so nice to meet you Y/N!" Sam pulled you into a bone crushing hug suddenly.

"Can't breathe,”you gasped.

"Sorry,”Sam released you from his hug.

"It's nice to meet you too Sam.”

"I'll leave you two alone. Give you both some space.”

Sam left the room but not before your eyes met with him. His eyes were clouded with various emotions. You couldn't quite place a finger on them, but there was a sense of vulnerability in the way the boys spoke to you. You still hadn't met the 2020 version of yourself and you were dreading meeting her. She was you, but judging by Dean's looks, something bad had happened to you.

"Did I die?" You asked the obvious question. You always knew that your end was going to be bloody - that's what happened to most hunters, but asking about your death still made a shiver run down your spine.

Dean nodded slowly. You squeezed your eyes shut.

"Yes. You die, in front of me,” Dean said and hung his head in shame, "I couldn't save you. I broke the promise. I watched as the werewolf ripped your heart out. I couldn't"- Dean choked on his words.

"When do I-" you lips quivered at the thought of the inevitable.

"Sixteen years ago. On August 25th, 2004,”As Dean said those words, his voice was overwhelmed with sadness.

"So I died two months later and all this time you had to live without me", you said, gasping lightly at the thought. You got up from your seat and walked up to Dean.

"I couldn't do anything. I-I promised to keep you safe,” Dean looked up at you, your own eyes meeting the beautiful green eyes that you loved so much.

"'I'm sorry.” Dean pulled you towards him, pressing his face into your chest. You threaded your fingers lightly through his hair.

"'M sorry,” Dean said again, his voice muffled.

"I don't want an apology, Dean,” you said. Dean let go of you, a single tear rolled down his cheek. You went down on your knees, your face now directly in front of his.

"I know", Dean said, his voice strained, "I know you can never forgive me. It's all my fault. I-I should have protected you. I-" you cut off his words by pressing your lips onto his. You felt Dean kissing you back and you melted into the kiss. You finally broke the kiss when you felt your lungs screaming for air.

"Dean, I don't want an apology, because you have nothing to apologise for. My death was inevitable. Baby, we are hunters, that's the only way we will go out,”you cleared your throat, tears were streaming down your face too, "You need to understand it's not your fault. You need to stop blaming yourself. You need to forgive yourself.”

"I never forgave myself Y/N/N. I loved you so much. I still do. I still think about you every night. I-I still think how everything would have turned out if you didn't-" Dean said. Your heart broke for the man in front of you. He was Dean Winchester, he was your Dean but something was so different about him. He didn't seem as carefree as he was in 2004.

"What happened to you?" you asked the man in front of you. He looked like the shell of the man he once was. His eyes were now almost emotionless. Something terrible had happened to him. "What happened to you, Dean?"

"Heaven, hell, purgatory - everything.” Dean scoffed.

"Hey Y/N? I hope you like pizza because we don't have anything else in here,” Sam chuckled while coming back to the library with a big box of pizza and three bottles of beer.

You nodded, glad that Sam came by to interrupt your conversation with Dean.

"So how did this whole summoning thing happen?" You asked, biting into a slice of pizza.

"The archangel Michael is riding shotgun in my head. We got hold of a pearl which fulfills your heart's deepest desire. I was using it to cast Michael out of my head which resulted in summoning you,”Dean said and shrugged at you.

"Archangel Michael? What happened in these last sixteen years, boys?"

"So you boys saved the world, huh?" You couldn't help but feel proud for the boys. You were also feeling a little sad, knowing that you wouldn't be with the boys throughout their adventures.

"More than twice.” Sam said excusing himself when his phone rang.

"So what do you think?" you asked the man who was stuffing his face with pizza. You giggled at his childish behaviour. All these years, and he hadn’tchanged at all.

"Thinb abaf whap?" Dean asked with his mouth full.

"This. What if this is a second chance?" You asked.

Dean swallowed down his food.

“Second chance for a Winchester, that's rare,”Dean scoffed.

“What if this is the second chance? You deserve it, Dean. You both deserve some happiness in your life,”you told him

“Uh-guys, I think we have a problem. See this”, Sam came back to the library and showed the video that was playing on his phone to you and Dean who gave you a ‘I told you so’ look and turned to his brother.

“What? I always knew you were a nerd but this is- what is this? Welcome to Sam Winchester’s TED talk?” Dean scrunched up his face in disgust when he heard Sam talk about the benefits of eating Kale, “Dude, this is weird - even for us! But you are here with us, then who is that Kale loving weirdo?”

“I think it's a temporal paradox,”Sam said.

“A temporal what?” Dean asked.

“Y/N from 2004 is zapped to 2020 so the timeline is correcting itself. If Y/N doesn't die, I never went back to hunting life because you both searched for Dad and killed the yellow eyed Demon and that means”-

“That means Mom doesn't come back and you become this Sam ‘I love Kale’ Winchester,”Dean cut off Sam’s words and completed the sentence himself.

“So how do we get this back to normal?” You asked the brothers.

“No, you are not serious about going back...I don't wanna lose you again, sweetheart,”Dean croaked out.

"I know. But if I don't go back, you will never get Sam back or your mom. It's me against your mother and brother.” You cracked a smile at Dean.

“I guess destroying the pearl will send you back,” Sam said.

“Let's do it then.”You swallowed thickly. You didn't want to leave Dean but it was wrong. This wasn't your life. You should be dead.

“No please, let's think this through. There has to be another way. We can make this work.” Dean pleaded.

“De, I know how you're feeling. It's honestly killing me to say goodbye to you, but you gotta understand, you have lived sixteen years without me - that's your life. This isn't your life. You gotta let me go,”you said.

Dean pulled you into a tight embrace. He clinged onto you as if his life depended on it. You pressed your lips on Dean's head.

“Dean look at me.” You cradled his face in your hands, making him look up. His eyes were starting to tear up. You had never seen Dean Winchester like this, and it shattered your heart.

“I know even if I say it, it won't make things better but it will be okay.” you softly said. Dean let go of you but pulled you into a bruising kiss.

“Do it Sammy.”Dean said after breaking the kiss.

Sam took the pearl and placed it on the table. He got a bowl to smash the pearl.

“It's okay. I love you.” you said, pecking Dean's lips one more time.

“I love you too.” Dean said and Sam smashed the pearl.

Dean continued to hold onto you until you disappeared into thin air and his hands were only holding onto air.

“I am sorry Dean,” Sam said, “you were truly happy for once.”

“I was because she was the best thing that had ever happened to me.” Dean said.

.

.

Forever taglist - @donnaintx @devil-in-my-boots @amandamdiehl @miss-nerd95

Dean/Jensen Taglist - @akshi8278 @mrsjenniferwinchester @jensengirl83

[wizardcorez]

ask to be unbroken (hollice)

Jake and Hollis through the years. Canon compliant (before the events of Amnesty+why Jake left the Hornets and they hate him) Alternate title: three times Jake held back tears and one time he didn't 

Rated mature for a vaguely sexual paragraph but it isn’t explicit. Also available on ao3 @/idiottwizard, my twitter is the same handle

Jake was fourteen when he had fallen while trying a new skateboard trick, he had seen some cool looking people around his age on the other side of the street and he wanted to do something to impress them. Instead he ended up sitting on the edge of the sidewalk with a scraped knee and elbow.

He was about to cry before he saw who looked like the leader of the group of kids running across the street towards him with a worried look on their face. He blinked away tears and looked up at them.

“Shit, that was a pretty nasty fall buddy, you okay?” They asked and kneeled beside him, their friends watching from the other side of the street, they looked like a rowdy but friendly bunch, all wearing matching jackets.

Jake wouldn’t let himself cry, the coolest of the bunch was right there. He didn’t want to embarrass himself even more than he already had so he flashed them a shaky smile and a hang ten. “Radical, my man.” he said, even if he absolutely did not feel very radical.

They snorted and Jake found that he kind of liked the sound. “Radical? Didn’t know it was still the 80’s.” they teased.

Jake laughed softly, used to being teased like that by Dani, and reached into his fanny pack to grab two bandaids, one a bright blue and the other yellow, looking confused when they grabbed the bandaids from him. “What are y-”

“I’m helping” They interrupted, taking the back off of the bandaid as they spoke.

Jake looked at them quizzically, but ended up with a smile on his face, extending his leg so it would be easier for them to get the bandaid on, “Okay, what’s your name then?” he asked.

“Hollis” They answered, putting the yellow bandage on Jake's knee.

Jake liked the way that name sounded in his head, “My name’s Jake,” he said with a grin, still trying to pretend like his injuries didn’t hurt him even if tears were pricking at his eyes, “Jake Cool-Ice” he specified, since he liked the last name he had given himself when someone had asked him and he had to answer on the spot.

Well, he had liked it until Hollis started laughing. “What are you laughing at?” Jake asked quietly.

Hollis calmed down their laughter before getting the other bandage ready, “Here, give me your elbow.” they said, and Jake stuck out his elbow, “I’m laughing at your last name, dorkface.” They said like it was obvious.

Jake furrowed his brow “My last name isn’t funny.” he muttered, frowning a little.

He noticed Hollis glance across the street and followed their gaze, just to see their friends were still waiting for them, and they hurried to get the other bandage on him. “Whatever you say dude.” they said, their laughter dying down after a moment “D’you wanna hang out with me and my buds? We skateboard and do other stuff too, you’ll fit right in.”

Now that was how to get Jake to smile, looking over at them hopefully as they finished up with his arm. “For real? Even after I just, like, beefed it?” he asked.

Hollis laughed again and pointed to bruises and scrapes on their own legs, “We all beef it sometimes.” they said simply, standing and offering Jake a hand.

When he took their hand and finally stood, he realized he was a good few inches taller than Hollis which made him smile as he grabbed his board and ran across the street, still holding their hand, to introduce himself.

From then on, Jake was in the Kepler Stunt Club, he earned a black windbreaker with the letters ‘KSC’ shakily embroidered on the chest, he thinks that was Beavan that did that on all of their windbreakers, and he never takes the thing off, proud to finally belong to something. --- Jake was sixteen when he realized he’s liked his best friend for the two years they’ve known each other. To make his shit show worse, he realizes when Hollis tells him they’ve got a boyfriend now and he nearly throws up in his mouth when the jealousy takes over him like a fucking wave.

He holds back tears the way he did when they met, but this time Hollis isn’t putting bandages on him and making it better, they caused the pain. Jake couldn’t be mad about it, Hollis didn't mean to hurt his feelings and he knew that. Hollis didn't even know he liked them, hell, he didn’t even know he liked them until the moment, which was really fucking convenient for Jake.

Hollis was snapping their fingers in his face and he snapped back into reality, blinking away any tear that threatened to fall and flashing them a smile. “Radical.” he said, not sounding nearly as energetic as he knew he should,

He should be happy for Hollis, damnit, he knew that. Best friends are happy for each other when one of them gets a boyfriend or girlfriend but he felt nauseous when he thought of Hollis kissing someone.

A month later when Hollis broke up with their boyfriend Jake couldn’t help but be relieved, even if he felt guilty about it. He was still their best friend, though, and so he showed up at their place with their favorite ice cream flavor, a stuffed animal, and a sheepish smile.

Hollis greeted him with a smile and a few minutes later they were beside each other in Hollis’s bed, eating ice cream with one of their favorite movies playing, Jake trying not to think about how badly he wished he could sit in their lap and kiss their sadness away, pushing away those thoughts he deemed as selfish.

“You know that guy was a dick, right” Jake blurted randomly during the movie.

Hollis sighed “Yeah, that's why I dumped him.” they said simply

Jake paused before speaking again, “He’s lucky I don’t beat him up.”

They laughed, and maybe it’s a little embarrassing that that was what got Hollis to laugh for the first time, but Jake would take it.

“Jake, dude, you couldn’t beat anyone up if you tried.” Hollis snickered.

Jake gasped at that, “I could too!” he yelled, smacking them with a pillow.

Hollis was already grabbing another pillow, “Oh you're on.”

There was yelling and laughing as they fought each other with the pillows, at some point a pillow was thrown and there was a noise of something falling that was ignored in favor of more fighting. At some point all the pillows had fallen or been thrown off the bed, so they resorted to wrestling.

Before he knew it Jake had Hollis’ arms pinned above their head and he froze, looking at them with wide eyes. “Why're you lookin’ at me funny?” They asked with a laugh and flipped their positions, Jake finally snapping out of it but seemingly forgetting to struggle against them, his eyes looking between their eyes and lips before shoving them off of them and sitting up straight as a pole.

Jake felt Hollis’ eyes on him and he had a feeling they were looking at him with concern, glancing over at them just confirmed his suspicions. “Sorry, Hol, you just scared the shit out of me.” he said, forcing out a laugh. They didn’t seem convinced but they also didn’t ask any more questions so Jake considered himself in the clear.

The two spent the rest of the day just messing around, playing video games and laughing at each other’s stupid dick jokes, even as Jake’s mind raced, unable to stop thinking about how he had somehow managed to fall for his best friend.

He didn’t blame himself, when he thought about it once Hollis was passed out on their bed, Jake beside them. They were attractive, very much so, with piercing eyes and wild hair that never stayed the same color for very long. Not to mention their personality, they so fiercely cared for their friends, who were now called The Hornets and had more professionally made matching jackets. They were full of attitude and spunk, and far too good looking for their own good.

Yeah, Jake had definitely fallen hard for Hollis, but he didn't so much mind the way it felt. It was giddy and kind of made his heart ache this dull pain in his chest, but that was okay so long as he was still their best friend. --- Jake was eighteen when he decided to confess his love to Hollis. After realizing he liked them, he spent two years pining after them, resisting the urge to kiss them in those soft moments when laughing fits quieted down and they were both breathless, telling his heart to calm down when Hollis would interlock their fingers when walking places.

He was never sure if they liked him too, honestly. They never got another boyfriend after the first, no matter how many people were interested in them. They kissed his cheek sometimes, making jokes that they had to kiss the homies goodnight, and Jake would laugh and pretend his heart wasn't about to beat out of his chest. He sometimes saw them give him looks that he couldn’t quite name.

Jake had no idea how Hollis would react when he told them, but it was to the point that he couldn’t keep it a secret for any longer without feeling like he was going to explode. He hoped with his whole heart that their friendship wouldn’t change, at least. Of course it would hurt if they didn’t feel the same, but he knew he would be okay so long as he could still have Hollis in his life.

“I think I’m in love with you.” Jake said, an air of confidence to his voice. No, that wouldn’t do.

He groaned and looked in the mirror, he’d been at this for an hour now, practicing what to say to them in the mirror, running a hand through his already messy hair.

At this point, Jake decided to wing it once he saw Hollis, he didn’t want it to seem too rehearsed anyway. Quickly pulling on his sneakers and speeding out of Amnesty Lodge, greeted by his best friend of four years on their fixed up bike, wearing a grin in place of a helmet.

Hollis tossed Jake a helmet, they always did insist that he wear one even though they never did. It was another thing that he didn’t mind, though, it made it clear that Hollis cared, and even if he always knew they did the little reminders like that were much appreciated. He also knew better than to try and get them to wear a helmet themself, they were stubborn and that was one of the things he loved so much about them. They were skilled enough on their bike that he trusted them without it, even if he did worry.

“Sup’ Holly!” Jake called before he even reached the bike, catching the helmet when it was tossed.

Hollis was quick to roll their eyes at that, “You ever gonna stop calling me that?” they asked.

He shook his head, pulling on his helmet and fastening it under his chin as he seated himself on the back of their bike, not hesitating to wrap his arms around their waist before they could even tell him to do so. It made his heart race a little to be so close to them and he knew Hollis could feel it but they never commented on it.

“You ever gonna wear a helmet?” Jake shot back.

Hollis floored it in response, Jake yelping and holding onto them tighter as their hair whipped back in his face. They chuckled, and he felt it more so than heard it, their chest reverberating with laughter and it made his heart swell.

Before he knew it, after a ride of enjoying having an excuse to pull Hollis close, they were at the Hornet’s nest. He reluctantly climbed off, pulling off his headgear and shaking out his helmet hair.

Hollis climbed off at the same time, taking the helmet from him and resting it on the bike. “Your helmet hair is cute.” they said, seemingly not noticing the way it made Jake turn pink.

He paused for a moment, trying to form words. “Your hair after biking is cute.”

“Yeah?” Hollis raised an eyebrow slightly, looking amused.

“Yeah” Jake admitted.

The corner of their lip quirked up in a smile and they took Jake’s hand, “Little walk in the Monongahela fine with you?” Hollis asked.

Jake just nodded, and he couldn't help but wonder if they knew what he was planning. A peaceful walk in the woods was the perfect place for a love confession, he hadn’t even thought of where he was going to do it, assuming he would just blurt it while they made him mac and cheese or something.

The two of them walked along the edge of the forest with their fingers interlocked, the only noise between them the crunching of leaves and sticks under their feet until they found where one of the scarcely used trails ended.

“You’re a lot quieter than usual.” Hollis pointed out as they led him onto the trail, squeezing his hand softly, making Jake sure that they could feel how clammy his hand was.

Jake didn’t say anything for a moment, starting to overthink and panic about confessing. He knew he had to do it though, he had been putting it off for two years and it was a massive weight on his chest.

“So, uh, I actually wanted to hang out today so I could talk to you about something.” His voice was soft as he spoke, and when he saw Hollis nod out of the corner of his eye, he continued. “I’ve known you for like, four years now, and we’ve been best friends the whole time and stuff, and I’ve really only known about it for a little bit, or like, closer to two years.” Jake rambled, the hand not holding Hollis’ fiddling with the zipper on his jacket.

“Jake-” Hollis cut in before Jake could start another sentence.

He didn’t seem to notice, too wrapped up in his own anxieties, feeling tears prick at the corner of his eyes. “I never really wanted to tell you, but it wasn’t something I wanted to keep from you anymore since you are my best friend and all.”

“Jake-” They said again, louder this time.

He was using every atom of his body to keep himself from crying as he kept speaking. “I never wanted to make you uncomfortable at all, our friendship has always meant everything to me-”

“Jake!” Hollis nearly yelled now, making him stop in his tracks and turn to Hollis, finding that they were standing very close and looking up at him.

He blinked down at them, not sure why they were interrupting his long speech, even more confused as they put two hands on either side of his face. “Hollis, what are you-”

He was cut off by Hollis pressing their lips together for a few moments before pulling back, Jake’s face still in their hands. “I love you too, dork. Is that what you were rambling about?” they asked with a small laugh.

“Oh,” Jake said simply, suddenly finding it hard to talk despite how much he had been saying moments before, taking a moment to process before breaking out in a massive smile, “how did you know that's the point I was getting to?” was all he could think to ask.

“I’ve known you’ve liked me since I got my first boyfriend, Jake.” Hollis said, their hands still on his face.

The blonde blushed at that, “Am I that obvious with my feelings?” he asked quietly, a sheepish smile plastered on his face.

“Yeah,” Hollis laughed softly, “I was gonna let you keep talking for as long as you wanted but uh, I could tell you were about to cry and I didn’t want that.”

Jake smiled again, realizing that his heart didn’t feel like it was going to explode out of his chest anymore. “Can you kiss me again?”

Hollis responded by softly bringing their lips together again, Jake wrapping his arms around their waist and smiling into the kiss.

After that they practically ran back to the Hornet’s nest, laughing the whole way, Jake nearly tripping over mangled tree roots on the forest floor. They were happy to see they had the nest to themselves, falling on the couch and pulling each other into a deep kiss.

What happened after that was a lot of gentle touching and exploring each other after pining for years, quickly shedding clothes and soft moans and whines from each of them, falling asleep in a tangle of limbs with soft smiles on their faces.

He was so, so in love with Hollis, and he fell asleep knowing they’d felt the same this whole time. --- Jake was twenty when his relationship started falling apart. He knew he would never break things off with Hollis, he had loved them for too long and he still did, but he also wouldn’t be surprised when they ended up dumping him.

Things with the Hornets were getting way out of hand, it had been fun when the club was about doing cool stunts, but they started to do illegal things. He could understand why, the sheriff was on their asses when they were doing innocent kickflips and sweet stunts, even as Kepler Stunt Club, but when they adopted the new name the law really cracked down on them.

As a whole they were angry about it, Jake included, but he didn’t like that they were resorting to vandalism in retaliation. He couldn’t be caught doing something like that, if he got in legal trouble there was no telling how bad things would end up.

After coming through the gate from Sylvain at twelve years old, he had it burned into his brain: don’t get hurt enough that we can’t fix it at the lodge, don’t get arrested. Not only did his life depend on it, but everyone at the lodge depended on him, and his family back in Sylvain. He had been exiled at a young age, tried as an adult for a petty crime and promptly thrown through the gate into a world he didn’t know, given only vague directions to the lodge and a wrist cuff that could make him appear human.

For the first two years Mama didn’t let him leave the lodge much, scared of him accidentally revealing himself. When he was fourteen she gave him more freedom to explore, and that's how he ended up skateboarding down the sidewalks of Kepler, meeting Hollis on the third time he was allowed out on his own.

Cool tricks and stunts, Jake could do. The group might get a stern talking to when they grind down handrails, but it was no actual trouble. Graffiti and trespassing, Jake couldn't, for more reasons than one. Not only would it risk the fate of his family at the lodge and all of Sylvain, but it also reminded him far too much of what got him exiled from Sylvain.

Jake had tried talking to Hollis about it, but he couldn’t exactly explain his real reasons for not wanting to do things like that, and they passed it off as him being a pussy.

After a few months, Jake was tired of how much the group had changed, he loved them all dearly, they were his first friends on Earth, and of course he was still in love with Hollis. No matter how much he cared for them all he still had self-respect, though, and after asking repeatedly to shift back to doing more stunts and less crimes, they still weren't listening.

He decided to leave the Hornets and Jake was more nervous about telling Hollis he was leaving than he was when he admitted he liked them. He knew that that may be the final straw for Hollis, and that terrified him. Even so, Jake wasn’t going to risk everyone at the lodge and all of Sylvain to break laws with his friends and partner.

Jake was alone at the nest with Hollis one day, and he knew it was the perfect time to tell them, things were tense right now but he wasn’t going to wait any longer.

“Hollis?” He said, grabbing their attention as he sat on the opposite end of the couch from them.

They didn’t look up from their phone, “Hm?” they asked, not paying attention.

Jake sighed, “Hollis, I need to talk to you about something, it's serious.” his voice was uncharacteristically firm.

That made Hollis look up at him, shutting off their phone and setting it on the coffee table, a concerned look on their face. “Whats up babe?” they said, and it made Jake’s heart hurt, having a feeling that they might not ever call him that again after that, already feeling tears well in his eyes.

“I’m leaving the Hornets.” Jake blurted before he could convince himself to put this off for longer, looking away from Hollis so he wouldn’t have to see their reaction.

They were quick to react, he could see them stand out of the corner of his eye “You’re fucking doing what, Jake?” Hollis’s voice was quiet, and their tone made Jake wince.

He took a deep breath, already feeling the tears rolling down his cheeks as he stared at the floor, “I’m leaving the Hornets, Hollis” his voice broke saying their name, closing his arms around himself in an attempt to calm himself down.

“What, you’re leaving because you aren’t getting your way? Because we don’t all want to be-be pussies like you?” They started raising their voice, clearly upset.

“It’s not like I’m a little kid throwing a hissy fit because I didn’t get my way, Hollis.” Jake insisted, standing up so he could pace.

Hollis brought their finger to Jake’s chest, he finally looked down at them to see they were on the verge of tears, he took a step back but they only followed. “Really, Jake? Because that's how it seems to me. You’re too scared to do anything that we want to do, why should we let you hold us back?” they said, looking up at him, despite how short they were they truly did scare Jake when they were like this, though it had never been directed at him until now.

He could only cry harder, he couldn’t hold it back if he tried, “I’ve fucking told you, Hollis,” Jake’s voice was barely a whisper, “I’ve told you I have my reasons for not wanting to do that stuff.”

“But you won’t tell me the actual fucking reasons why, Jake! You haven’t told me shit in this relationship, actually!” Hollis yelled, taking a step further which forced Jake back. “I have told you everything, Jake, all of my trauma and shit that nobody else knows about, I have opened up endlessly, and you refuse to tell me anything, and now you’re leaving the Hornets-your fucking family, Jake, and you can’t even give me a real reason why?”

Hollis had backed Jake up to the wall, now, and he was shaking from how much he was crying, “Hollis I can’t tell you, it isn’t fucking up to me! I promise on my life I would tell you if I could, just trust that I can’t, okay?” Jake’s voice felt weak in his throat and he hated it.

“Why should I trust you when all you do is shut me out and give me vague answers to everything, Jake?” Their voice was quiet again and they wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Jake could practically feel his heart shatter inside his chest, the pieces stabbing into his lungs as he tried to speak, “You don’t trust me?” he asked quietly, closing his eyes to try to calm down. He knew there was a large chance of this going wrong but he didn’t know it would hurt like this.

Hollis didn’t say anything for what felt like forever, and if it weren't for the finger still pressing into the center of Jake’s chest he would think they had just walked away. “I don’t know anymore.” They finally said, their voice low.

He felt their hand drop from his chest and he didn’t open his eyes, quietly crying and trying to pretend he was okay despite it all. “Hollis, I-” he started, trying to find the words he wanted to say.

“No,” Hollis cut him off, shaking their head, “get out.” they said after a moment.

“What?” Jake opened his eyes and looked at them to see they were looking at the ground.

“I said get out, Jake. We’re over.” Hollis spat.

“Hollis, listen to me, don’t just throw away everything we have.” Jake pleaded, sobbing now, reaching out to touch their shoulder only for them to move away, shaking their head.

“It’s too late for that.” Hollis said, their voice shaky, Jake noticed their hands were balled into fists at their sides, a tear rolling down their face for the first time in the whole argument, silently falling to the floor “I told you to get out, Jake, so fucking leave.”

So Jake left, he bolted out the door, not thinking to grab any of what he kept at the Hornet’s nest for when he stayed the night, slamming the door behind him to find that it had started raining, seemingly just to spite him.

He ran along the edge of the Monongahela Forest, finding the end of the trail that Hollis had once led him onto, his mind flashing back to that fateful day as he ran down the trail. It had grown up even more since that day two years ago, twigs scratching his face as he ran, sobbing harder when he passed the spot that Hollis had kissed him, starting to shiver as his clothes soaked through from the onslaught of rain.

Jake has no idea how long he’s been running but his chest aches from overexertion and heartbreak, his legs burn and his face and arms sting from where every thorn and stick scratched him.

When he passed the gate to Sylvain all he could do was cry harder. It wasn’t enough for him to have been exiled eight years ago, never able to see his family again, but his origins had to ruin the best thing to happen to him on Earth too.

At the very least the gate meant that he was getting closer to the lodge, his whole body ached and he thought he might pass out if he kept himself going like this for much longer. At this point Jake didn’t quite mind the thought of passing out though, or just plain falling over dead.

He slowed down to a jog when he saw the back of Amnesty Lodge, his breath catching every time he inhaled and a sharp pain in his side as he came in through the back entrance. Rain water dripped on the floors that he knew had just been mopped earlier, not caring that Barclay would probably lecture him about it.

Dani came around the corner and froze at the sight of Jake, soaked to the bone and shivering, still sobbing, “Jake?” she asked, sounding worried.

He ignored her, moving directly past her with his arms wrapped around himself, making a beeline for his bedroom, flinching away when her hand tried to grab his wrist and locking the door behind him.

Jake pulled off his soaked clothes, grabbing his phone from the pocket of his jeans and, against his better judgement, pulled on one of Hollis’s hoodies that they had left in his room and one of their pairs of boxers. His wailing had died down to sniffles now but he was still shivering from the wet and cold as he climbed under his quilt. He pulled the quilt up over his head and realized a moment later that the hoodie still smelled of them and in that moment he let out a choked sob, having no more tears to cry.

Reaching blindly around his bed, he found the stuffed animal seal he’d gotten on a date with Hollis to Build-A-Bear and pulled it to his chest tightly, taking in a shaky breath. Jake picked his phone up, inputting his password and feeling a pang in his chest as his fingers pressed in his and Hollis’s anniversary.

There’s a knock on his door that makes him flinch but he ignores it in favor of pulling up the music app on his phone, looking between two playlists for a moment but ultimately clicking on the one Hollis had made for him. He knows that he shouldn’t, but he does anyway, setting his phone down beside him as the music played and curling into the fetal position, burying his face in the stuffed seal.

His body still ached, he was cold and wet still, shivering under the quilt. Jake Cool-Ice felt pathetic and he hated it, reminding him of when he had come through the gate, terrified and alone.

Jake’s mind flooded with memories of dancing with Hollis to this playlist, laughing and accidentally stepping on each other’s toes. He yearned to be back in one of those moments more than anything, he knew it wasn't good to be wearing their clothes and listening to the playlist after they broke up with him, but he did it nevertheless.

After some time Jake fell asleep, pretending Hollis’s arms were around him and their breath was on his shoulder like just a few nights ago, the sound of a Hozier song filling the empty space in the air where Hollis should be.

When someone leaves your life, those exits are not made equal. Some are beautiful and poetic and satisfying. Others are abrupt and unfair. But most are just unremarkable, unintentional, and clumsy.

[warnerbro]

Years later.

Boo: [That was the third nurse. The third nurse in an hour. No less than an hour. They'd all ask the same thing regarding his health, his state of mind, if he was ready to see some sunlight, and if he needed some pillows fluffed. The incessant questions reflected his antsy-ness. He was ready to be done with the hospital, and though he was told someone was on the way to retrieve him, he'd lost a bit of hope, as he'd been waiting nearly the whole day. He was ready for some sunlight, and turning off the TV, he turned on his bed, and faced the window. Through the blinds, it was nice out, but on the inside he felt completely dreary. Soccer was over. His life was over. And the choices he'd made in the past--he had time to think of them all-- they were turning sour with regret. He'd heard some footsteps and thinking it was another nurse he didn't turn.] You don't have to keep checking up on me, I promise, I'm fine. [He stared down at his cast, and sighed.]

Cilla: [What was she doing? Why was she coming here? What reason did she have to trudge up all of these old memories? Hurts? -- Regrets, even? How did she talk herself into answering a call after so many years? And why was her chest so tight now at the idea of seeing what she knew would be in the room she was walking to? It was so many years ago-- everything. Why did it all still feel like she was sixteen again? Why did it feel so /scary/? She stopped just in front of the door. She could turn around now. He would never have to know that she came, and she could pretend that she hadn't gotten a call, and everything could be as it was. -- But did she want it that way? With a deep, shuddering breath in and out, she pulled open the door and stepped in. There he was. Somehow, her chest just got even tighter. He didn't look at her... just thought she was a nurse. So, with a quiet voice, meek and breathy even... embarrassed almost?] Hi.

Boo: [Her voice was able to throw his heart into a couple of backflips, as it once did. He had turned around almost too quickly because he couldn't wait to see her after so long. When was the last time? It didn't matter. His eyes lay upon her and if not for a moment he was completely speechless, for there was his sunshine WHOOPS. So he stared in awe, sure. A big awe inspired grin from Boo Warner, shone it's brightest, but not as bright as her, of course.] Sorry, hi. [Shake it off Warner.] You came?? [he laughs out his awkwardness.]

Cilla: [She didn't know how he could be so-- casual about this. It'd been years. He was acting like he'd just seen her last week, based off that grin on his face. She, however, couldn't shake that tight feeling in her chest. Why???!???] Uh, yeah. I... wanted to see... why?

Boo: [Still staring, I'm sure.] I'm sorry, I just, never thought... [Still speechless, I'm sure.] When I told them to call you, it was on a whim. Zoe's out of town. My parents are out of town... [Catching his staring, trying to back track. It's not working.] You look... [Focus Warner.] You look great. It's great to see you. Honestly. [So he tries to get up from his seat, crutches under his arms, and he's stable, standing and still staring at that bombshell of a future wife of his.]

Cilla: But... why--?? [She wanted to ask, why me of all people? What about your other siblings? Ferris? Your girlfriend, even? But she noticed his staring, and she froze under his stare. ] Yeah... so do you. Well, mostly. [she looked at the crutches.] It's good to see you too, Boo.

Boo: [ He doesn't answer her "why", nope. That question is officially rhetorical. But he does laugh at her "mostly" comment, because there's no way. Mostly was too complimentary, as he'd felt like shit all day, all night, all week, even. Up until now. He let out another laugh, and remained silent, because what was there to say? Could he answer her question without opening an old can of worms. No, definitely not. So he didn't.] I'm kinda hungry... [he digresses.] And this hospital food, is typically terrible as usual. Will you let me take you to lunch? Or... rather.. [so there slips the casual away and he crumbles.] You drive us and I pay? [ gULP.] We can... catch up?

Cilla: [Her mouth opens like she's about to say something, but it closes again, and she casts her eyes to the ground. Oh, yes, my shoes are so exciting, and why is Boo doing this? This is so out of nowhere. And w h e r e i s M e l i s s a?] I'm... [and with a sigh, she looks back up to him. That same quiet, breathy tone from before is being used.] Okay. Yeah, sure.

Boo: Okay, great. [he nods.] I just have a few things... [he begins to gather his effects: a smelly duffel bag with smelly soccer clothes, cleats, a change in clothes etc. in jumbling it all, I'm sure he looks like an uncoordinated clown.] Thanks for coming, by the way. [he clears his throat, to clear the air.] After everything, [there's a stressed sigh] it means a lot. [he gives her a real sincere look like thanks pal.]

Cilla: I wanted to... to make sure you were alright, after-- [she looks down at the cast. plus, wanting to know why the h e c k he had her called over everyone else, but that was apparently not going to be answered today. So, she just nodded at him, letting herself give the tiniest of half smiles.]

Boo: I'm fine. [he stops her there.] Or, I'm going to be fine. Eventually. One day. [he shrugs, because he can't think of that day yet, but he was sure it would come, nevertheless he hobbles towards her and the door, ready to be out of that dreaded room.]

Cilla: Yeah, of course. [So, she starts on her way out the door as well, but not before turning back to Mr. Warner, and placing a light hand on his shoulder.] I /am/ sorry. [For what you ask? All. So many.]

Boo: [He smiles, and there's a small chuckle as if to say if you forgive me, damn right, I forgive you, and I'm certain they are out the door, and nope sorry Cilla you're just gonna have to get your answers another day because Boo Warner for sure ain't saying much at lunch so.]