#god this really through me when I rediscovered it

[lususnatura]

🎤 🎤 🎤

a song that i associate with my muse meme!

AHH, hey, ramone!! thank you for sending in this prompt :D since you sent in three of the mic's, i shall now be treating you to three songs that make me think of blamore when i hear them / that i associate with it. an explanation of why i chose them will be in the tags <3

hozier - who we are.

icehouse - crazy.

depeche mode - personal jesus.

[hana-the-ghostieee]

hey! so um apparently bots keep following me???? assuming it's the same for everyone else

so if you're a person that's following me (why. what prompted you to make a stupid decision) and you have default... everything um maybe try changing your banner, write something in the desc (like pronouns and sexuality and stuff) and reblog a couple of stuff??? unless you'd like to get blocked. which is fine i guess (i question your motives but you do you)

[bloodsuckingfiends]

Need

Summary: Astarion is desperate and needy, Tav takes care of him

Pairing: Astarion x Tav (gn!reader)

Warnings: nsfw, subby! Top Astarion, nipple play (male receiving), begging, praise, cream pie (so breeding if you squint)

Word count: 800

A/N: If this is in anyway awful, I blame it on the wine I drank while writing it.

It only really occurred when he was stressed, whether it be about the tadpoles, or Cazador, didn’t matter. He never explicitly verbalized it, but you had your suspicions that it came from the need to feel taken care of whilst still having some semblance of control in the matter. So after a long and arduous day of following dead end leads, that were supposed to be the answer towards everyone’s parasite, Astarion seeks out relief in the way that he’s rediscovering for himself. Which has led the two of you to seek each other’s comfort in the reprieve of his tent.

Your hands brush up his sides, pushing his ruffled shirt up and over his head, fingertips trailing back down his rib cage, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he discards it to the side. Astarion leans forward, guiding you to lay down on his bedroll, barely breaking the kiss that he had initiated. He needs this, his body craves it. To feel taken care of. To feel mindless, free to not think about the stress that paints each passing day of their lives as of late.

He sighs into your mouth, tongue curling around yours, wet and desperately searching. Searching for the heavenly distraction that is needing you. There’s the momentary press of his knee forwards, making space for him to kneel between your awaiting thighs. Your fingers delicately trail back up his sides before venturing across his chest, gently brushing against his nipples which earns a whine from the back of his throat and a cant of his hips against your own.

“You like that, huh?” you murmur against his plush, kiss-swollen lips.

He nods fervently, eyes fluttering shut as you continue to toy with him, gently pinching the buds between thumb and forefinger.

“Use your words, Star.” It’s no secret that this turns Astarion into a puddle before you even think about touching him anywhere else, and it nearly makes his heart beat again when you actively keep him present in the moment. That you make sure he voices what he wants in all of this.

He swallows, words barely making it past his lips before he moans, “Mmhm. Yes, I like it.” His brain is mush already, overwhelmed by your hands touching him so gently, and his painfully hard cock pressing against the confines of his trousers. You realize that the usually boisterous elf seems almost… shy. His cheeks and the tips of his ears ruddy with the blood he supped on earlier from you.

He drops his face to the crook of your neck, soft kisses press to your skin, just below the clotted punctures and faint bruise that he left earlier. He quietly huffs against your neck, mindlessly rutting his hips against the apex of your thighs.

“Tell me what it is that you want, my love.” Your voice croons against the shell of his flushed ear, fingers running through his soft curls.

”Please- need to be inside you.” He thrusts forwards, mindlessly seeking pressure against his arousal. Gods is he desperate, his voice on the verge of whiny.

“Take what you need.”

In an almost frantic state, Astarion strips the rest of your clothing off before discarding his trousers and undergarments. The moment his cock nudges against your entrance, he’s biting his bottom lip, stifling the sounds threatening to spill past his lips. He leans forward, wrapping his arms around you, face against the juncture of your shoulder and neck as he breaches your entrance, a soft sigh meeting your flesh. He almost loses himself, completely overwhelmed by finally filling you. Your very essence completely envelopes him, legs wrapping around his waist, one arm around his shoulders, and the other hand gently holding his head close.

Always making sure he knows, ”You’re so good to me Star.”

He whimpers, hips picking up and thrusting into you. One of his hands moves to grip one of your thighs, pushing it towards your chest to get impossibly deeper. All he feels is you, and all he wants is for you to only feel him too.

“Please- please let me come.” He pants, “Wanna fill you so bad.”

“Come for me, love.” You press a kiss against his temple.

A string of soft moans and whines leave him, and his flushed ears twitch as he empties himself deep inside, hips pressing tightly against yours so he reaches as deep as possible.

As he comes down from his high, he pulls out and rolls to the side, laying his head against your chest, “You didn’t come.” He states.

”Tonight was about you.” You tell him, fingers mindlessly dancing across his shoulders, soothing him further. All he deserved was to be taken care of

[wordsinhaled]

i simply had to write a little something inspired by this phenomenal payneland AU comic by @idliketobeatree !!! so this is their first hug once charles can finally see and touch edwin, after years of edwin being a ghostly presence in his life <3

-

In the end, Charles is the one who gives Edwin the biggest, tightest hug.

Edwin is stiff at first. Then he melts into it, his spectral body softening like so much candle wax in Charles' arms. He has wanted to hold Charles in just this way for an abominably long time. He simply had not imagined it would be Charles almost bowling him over with such pure excitement just at the sight of him. He does not think anyone has ever been so pleased to be in his presence. "Charles!" he exclaims in surprise, something between a squawk and a laugh startling out of him—but Charles is nuzzling him now, and sighing happily, tucking his nose into Edwin's collar and not letting go, and Edwin can muster little else to say. Charles is warm against him, inexplicably and wonderfully so, and it has been so achingly long since Edwin has been held like this. Perhaps he has never been held like this, because he has never been held by Charles Rowland before. Charles Rowland, who rocks him a little bit from side to side as though Edwin is something long-lost and dear, something familiar eagerly rediscovered. When Charles pulls back he's beaming. "That was brills," he enthuses. "Don't know how long I've been wanting to do that, really. Feels like ages. Hope you're fine with me being a proper octopus, mate." Then he hesitates. "That—wait—that wasn't too much, was it? I mean, I don't wanna overwhelm you or nothing—" "Charles," Edwin says. "All is well. I was merely surprised at first by your... exuberance." Charles cuts a glance at Edwin, an altogether too-charming one through his lashes, abashed but persistent. "Well, 'course I'm exuberant, aren't I? Just found out my best ghost mate is proper real. Had me thinking I'd gone round the bend for a tick." A pause, and a different sort of shyness. "So... the hugging... it's okay, then? Not gonna run off on me?" Edwin, it seems, is learning even more new ghost rules as they speak. He feels his face heat; something he had not thought possible. "I admit it was not as common in my time as it is in yours to embrace quite so freely. Yet I find myself..." He coughs delicately. "Perfectly amenable." "Oh," Charles says. Edwin wonders if he imagines a matching flush rising on Charles' cheeks. "Good. That's good." He rocks back on his heels, looks like he's biting back another thousand-watt grin—the kind that Edwin has witnessed secondhand but, in the short time Charles has been able to aim it at him directly, has begun doing truly perilous things to Edwin's long-dead and incorporeal insides. "God, I can't believe I can properly hear you! Like, you've got a, a voice and all. And—" He gestures broadly at Edwin. "Wow. Y'know?" "Yes," Edwin says faintly. "I believe I do know."

[fandomlurker333]

A lot of people are screaming throuple and just writing the porn (which I get! It’s fun!). But reading them come is not enough for me. lol Toxicity is hot until it’s just damaging and sad for everyone. I want real happiness for these three weirdos.

The end of the film was meant to be the very beginning of something. Just the spark of an idea of them coming back to one another. But the real work starts after. 

And I think it would probably be a step-by-step thing. 

I can see Patrick and Art working to draw closer, with that strong foundation of their childhoods to build off of. Obviously having to resolve the hurt that so much time and distance caused them, and both being willing to forgive. But it’s clear at the end of the film that the door is open for that. They grew up together. There’s a real root of knowing that I think could carry them through the toughest parts early on. Their relationship evolving feels possible.

And Tashi and Art’s marriage would find some breathing room and maybe even some renewed delight for having Patrick present and loving on them both. Kinda seeing each other again through his eyes type thing. Remembering they’re more than who they have been to each other for over a decade (both operating in one mode to survive, never quite enough for each other -- not totally fulfilled and not appreciated in their fullness).

I don’t think Patrick and Tashi would be having sex at this point, but I can see like….tennis dates where they bicker. Just them all learning how to be in each other’s space for extended periods of time and enjoy it.

And maybe Art wouldn’t resent Tashi so much for not being able to give him everything (so much has been taken from her — she just doesn’t have all that much left. She’s been doing her best.) and maybe Tashi would feel more at peace seeing them play each other and knowing Art is really loving tennis, not just playing for her. Connecting with them both in that space and finding joy in tennis again, so it’s not just routine and pain and loss for her.

With that healing happening concurrently (with therapists as support, of course), I think they’d get far. And then once those relationships are more secure, once Art and Tashi learn how they relate to each other when he isn’t winning for her (which would be something new. They don’t know what that looks like yet!) then Patrick and Tashi, having learned way more about themselves in relationship and how to communicate, might start working on their side of the triangle lol. 

I could see them all exploring and working out the intimacy over time — not just sex, but intimacy -- what do they each need and how do they need it? And kink too, the various ways they each want/need to give or receive so they all feel truly satisfied.

And of course they’ll be partners co-parenting. All of them.

I can see Tashi finally grieving her injury, the life she lost, and rediscovering her love of tennis, not to win, but for the joy of being on the court. Her sobs the first time she plays again and it’s not competitively, just a little volley, but it’s like she’s finally alive again. Reminding herself she’s a leader in tennis the space still, that she can build success in that world even without Art’s career, but maybe it looks different. I see a healed Tashi learning to enjoy teaching kids. Taking on more protege. And letting Art and Patrick come help at her tennis camps. 

Art retiring like he said he wanted, running the foundation as Tashi steps back. Realizing that he’s actually pretty good at this business thing and going back to school for a Master’s in nonprofit leadership. Meeting new people. Making friends (that aren’t Patrick). Getting invited to a pottery class and seeing he loves to work with his hands. Playing tennis with Patrick on the weekends.

And my heart for stay-at-home dad Patrick. Who always forgets to change over the laundry and leaves his keys everywhere and puts the babies' shoes on the wrong feet. But my god he loves those kids so goddamn much. Patrick learning to cook for the family and getting really good at it like he does anything he hyper-focuses on. Patrick finally having a home with the two people he loves most and figuring out how to create some routine and stability for himself within that container.

The love in that home. Ugh. I think it’s possible! I think they can do it! It just takes work. 

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Cookie's Fic Recs

I feel like no one really does rec lists anymore! But last night I was feeling and sappy and mushy and decide to put together my own little list of fics I love. These are in no particular order, and they don't follow any real theme/tropes other than I dearly love them all, and you should definitely give them a read!

*I tried to tag everyone I could find a blog for, but if I missed anyone, please let me know I can tag them!

The Instinctual Gravitation Towards Warmth by kimkhimhant (@kimkhimhant)

This is my comfort fic. No joke, this is what I read when I want to die. It’s angsty as all hell, it’s made me cry, but it is so indescribably good. Kim is an addict going through recovery, finding love and family along the way. He hits rock bottom—arguably multiple times—but always claws his way back, always with the support of the people that love him. It’s such a beautifully written and cathartic story, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve read it. But it’s almost certainly the fic I’ve reread the most. 

Error in the Code by BlackwaterVial (@blackwatervial)

Sneaking this VegasPete onto my otherwise KimChay list bc it altered me. I think most people already know what it is, but jic: it’s a sci-fi/cyberpunk/android AU, and it’s one of the best things I’ve ever read. I go feral for androids and this fic delivers in all the best ways. The world building alone makes me weep. But all of the characters interactions, the way we get such an in depth feel for everyone despite the limited PoV, and the most satisfying take I’ve seen on android artificial intelligence ever—I can’t recommend this story enough. 

Idiots & Idioms by snickerdoodlles (@snickerdoodlles)

This one is actually a series, and it's genuinely so much fun to read. For the most part it's a SocMed fic with Chay taking over Wik's twitter and making it everyone's problem, and it's fkn hysterical. This one is actually a series, and it's genuinely so much fun to read. For the most part it's a SocMed fic with Chay taking over Wik's twitter and making it everyone's problem, and it's fkn hysterical.

Silver for Truth by snickerdoodlles (@snickerdoodlles)

This fic is the Kim & Khun vs. Tawan team-up we deserve. Kim is a ruthless, demented bitch, that's too cool to beat Tawan to death bc what if he messes up his wrists right before a show?? Big, get 'im. Kim is the feral-est cat ever, leaving behind evidence and bodies for Kinn bc saying "hey bro, I still love you/look out for you" is too much emotion for him. The fic is also from Tawan's PoV which also makes it the funniest thing ever, for reason that I won't spoil <3

The Wiked Lies We Live by shubaka (@shubaka)

Oh my god, this fic. Canon divergence (technically??) where most things happen as normal... except KimChay have been bodyswaped at the start of it. The little twists Shu puts on the events of canon, given it isn't the correct characters experiencing them (such as Big being very confused about why Kim is suddenly nice to him??) are so much fun.

A Portrait of Affection by froginthesun (@froginthesun)

Kim is an artist and Chay is the part time nude model he hires. ‘Nuff said right there, except no it isn’t, this fic is beautiful. Kim’s frustration with his craft is palpable, and so is the way he rediscovers his passion through Chay. The writing is wonderfully detailed, every chapter felt like walking through a museum. And tension slowly building between them—unf. 

Sunshine in My Closet by moneskin 

This is an A/B/O AU that is so satisfying to read. Typical hilarious boundary violations (Chay stealing Kim’s clothes, a bewildered Kim handing over a freshly worn outfit, having barely any idea who this strange kid is) characteristic of the AU, but then the story also delves deeper into more serious topics. Chay has a history of abuse from a past alpha that he has to learn how to navigate with Kim, who is incredibly patient and works hard to make Chay feel safe and loved. Overall a very sweet and comforting read. Seriously, this fic makes me melt.

Your Body Feels Like Disrespect by Blue_Jay (@bluejayfiction)

This fic is so funny because it begins with Kim blurting out, in the middle of an Important Mafia MeetingTM, that he and Chay aren’t having sex, and then wanting to die about it. Followed by Kim’s family trying very hard to both support and terrorize him. It’s hilarious, sexy, and one of my favorite reads when I need a pick me up. (Bless Kinn’s determination to be a Good and Supportive Brother, and Vegas for being the Worst Person Ever.) 

In Silent Screams (In Wildest Dreams) by BelladonnaWyck and StratsWrites 

This is definitely a darker fic. There’s DubCon, Kim is generally Sketchy, but it’s very hot. And I love explorations of his character where he isn’t just outwardly psychotic and cruel. This fic shows the kind of dark that I think Kim could have been, if you just tilted his character a little to the left. He still seems very much the way he is in canon, but he’s also… a lot more calculating and cold, sometimes. I love it. 

Forget-me-always by bisexualbard (@bisexualbard-writes)

I cannot sing the praises of this fic enough. I think it’s probably tied for IGTW for my most-read fics. I’ve probably read this one more often in reality, but only bc it’s shorter. But oh my god, does it hurt. Kim gets struck with amnesia post-break up, does a little light stalking, and gets Chay to help him learn/remember who he is. In the process realizes that wow his life sucks, and there’s no way he wants to go back to it. Especially if he’s the kind of person that hurt Chay. He would rather start over. (Ofc, he doesn’t get to). This fic makes me cry, it’s so good 

Coffeehouse Play by AirgodSLV

This is a canon divergence AU that I adore. The KimChay characterization is on point. I love that despite everything going on around them, they also get to be two boys that hang out and play videogames and try to shove each other off the couch while Porsche makes dinner. Given the age difference it’s so easy to make Kim Older and MatureTM, but he’s still a kid, and this story never once forgets that. It felt so honest and true to his character that Kim does have a lot of plans, and he’s very smart, but he’s also still so young, and sometimes shit just goes wrong. 

Want and Need by bisexualbard (@bisexualbard-writes)

God, this fic. T h i s f i c. Post-canon Chay goes to therapy and becomes a camboy (in that order) and it’s delicious. Watching the steady breakdown of his and Porsche’s relationship is so satisfying. Everything one of them does to make things worse feels awful, but is so in character that it’s hard to be mad at them for their decisions. Kim readily giving up control if it means he can be with Chay, and Chay getting a crash course in how to dom. All of it is just. So good. This is such a good fic

Your Look, Through This Lens by WildelyDawn (@wildelydawn)

AU where Chay becomes Kim’s photographer. This fic emotionally hobbled me. Just a fair warning. You will cry. But that said, the ending isn’t nearly as sad as the tags would have you believe! At least in my opinion. I think it’s fairly open/hopeful, and beautiful either way. I love the way this fic shows how Kim balances being Wik while also being part of the mafia. And I love how temperamental he is; always hot and cold, while remaining pretty even as far as how he expresses himself. Always very aloof/detached, just out of reach, with Chay never really sure where he stands/what Kim wants. But at the same time the fic happens just before Kim gets a big break, and the subtle ways he shows his excitement and nerves as things start coming together—it’s wonderful. 

Love’s a Two-Way Dream by giraffeter (@giraffeter)

This fic is dark. Kim atticwife’s Chay and it’s not a good time. But!! It’s not just dark for the sake of it; Kim is a genuine sociopath, yes, but it unfolds slowly. You get a sense of creeping dread as he does things that are just a little bit off, until finally the Big Bad Thing happens. At first he seems normal, playing the part of good and respectful boyfriend. But it just goes downhill from there, and I love every word of it. The ending especially is very satisfying. 

In the Dark of the Night by bisexualbard (@bisexualbard-writes)

Not to recc everything Bard writes, but… This is a rape recovery fic that I feel handles the subject matter incredibly well. There’s no gratuitous rape scenes, and even with the flashbacks, I don’t remember any of them being incredibly detailed. I think Bard handled the fic with incredible respect and grace. This is another one that’ll make you cry. The way Chay handles his past trauma while trying to have a relationship with Kim is so painfully real. And so is the way Kim wants to help him, but doesn’t really know how. But they figure it out together, and it’s amazing. (Also Kim acquires a stabby child in the form of an OC that I adore.) I just love the path Chay's recovery takes in this fic, it's so visceral and relatable. It's all around just. So good. I love this fic for the same reason I love IGTW and it's because both fics show an excellent depiction of recovery.

Chains and Crowns, A Flower Can Both Make by Sweet_William (@sweet-william-writes)

Incredibly Regency AU. Historical AUs are some of my all time favorites, and this is everything I didn’t know I needed. Sweet_William captures the essence of an Austen-esque style while still making this feel like the KinnPorsche characters. Chay is wonderfully feisty, Kim is delightfully complex, and the various family interactions always had me cackling. 

Simple Little Secrets by CorvusCloudburst (@cloudburst-ink)

Chay sees the future when he touches people. Kim thinks he’s either insane, a spy, or a conman. Oh, and Chay’s visions of Kim? Always sex-related. The shenanigans are endless. What more do you need?? They’re both crazy4crazy and it’s my favorite thing ever. Their banter is snappy and fun, the writing is sexy, and it never once gave me second-hand embarrassment despite Chay’s horrible situations. 

[olderthannetfic]

My god, classic mystery is not for the devolved brain of a chronically online person that is meeee. I thought I start off with popular Queen of the Genre, Agatha Christie. The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. I've read dense classics before. But this is not that. It's so dry. It's the only way I think I can describe it. The words slip through my brain like sand. It's grating to look at. Like, damn. I didn't know my brain was in such a dire state. The Murder on the Orient has a bit more stick but then and then and then and then and then....And then.

I don't know what exactly it is that makes reading so aggravating to my senses. I read non fiction books. Those are dry. But I don't.. Help.

Advice for getting into classic mystery. Help.

--

Oh no!

Nonnie, why is it that everyfuckingone starts with that wretched book? Either that or And Then There Were None?

Literally any other Christie would be fine. But no. You had to choose that shitty, depressing, rules-breaking turd of a book.

I do think that reading a given genre can require a little warm-up for lack of a better word. Whenever I go back to golden age mystery, I'm surprised yet again to find that it's all in omniscient POV. I don't know why I'm surprised. It's not like this is news. And yet!

That particular type of omniscient tends not to delve deeply into emotions and does read as drier than a modern mystery novel, at least to me.

--

Traditionally, there are four Queens of Crime. Christie is the one with the best recent live action adaptations. She is not necessarily the favorite of all mystery enthusiasts. Try:

Artists in Crime by Ngaio Marsh

Murder Must Advertise by Dorothy L. Sayers

Sweet Danger by Margery Allingham

For Christie, try The Secret of Chimneys.

There are piles of other authors of the genre and era, including Georgette Heyer who is better known for romance. Her mysteries are very much in the same vein but with more human emotion.

There are many, many more obscure authors from the classic period, and little-known books are always being rediscovered. Mystery in White: A Christmas Crime Story by J. Jefferson Farjeon became an unexpected success a few years ago when people were looking for Christmas-themed mysteries. Murder for Christmas: A British Holiday Murder Mystery by Francis Duncan is another such case. That one has a really charming detective, an old guy addicted to romance fiction.

[hannahluvsbillie]

miss me?

★~ pairing : billie eilish x reader

★~ cw : none

a/n : this fic is so messy and it’s absolute dog shit but i have crazy writers block rn im sorry guys 😣😣

a/n 2 : no this isn’t a part of the casual series!! trying to aim for this week or next for part 3

the sounds of blaring music and people talking filled your ears, constantly. you were dragged to this party.

your friends say it’s because you haven’t been out often since- well since you and billie broke up.

but how can they blame you? she was your soul tie, your other half. and they think you can get over her in a couple of weeks? you can only wish it was that easy.

you lean your head back on the back of the couch, looking at how the lights flash annoyingly bright colors.

god you just wanted to go home.

well, that was until you hear a familiar voice.

your head snaps to the side, only to see billie. she wasn’t supposed to be here, you hadn’t seen her in months.

your breathing speeds up, it feels like you haven’t seen her in years. she looks so different- yet the same.

her hair is the same, except now it’s just black. she changed the red roots you loved so much.

her voice was the same, her laugh, not that you’d expect that to change, it just felt foreign to hear that sound again after not hearing it for months.

you see her look over in your direction, if you weren’t staring at her in absolute awe, you wouldn’t of seen the way her eyes widen just a millimeter when she sees you.

it seems like you both didn’t expect to see each other again.

it’s felt like you two are planets apart, watching her live through social media, listening to her new songs just to realize who they’re about.

before you know it, she’s walking over. you look down at your phone, trying to ignore her gaze.

“hey, haven’t seen you in a minute.”

she says, her voice as soft and playful as you remember it. it felt like rediscovering your once favorite song.

you look up at her from your phone, your eyebrows raising just a smidge.

“hi” is all you manage to get out before she speaks again

“you seem like you don’t want to be here.” she says, she notices the way your eyes are sunken in just a little, you look skinnier, and not in a good way. you look so familiar but so different.

“yeah, i really don’t.” you say, looking away from her gaze, looking at a wall beside you. anything to ignore those eyes.

before you know it, she’s sitting next to you on the couch.

“so, how have you been?” she says, her voice sounds like she knows the answer already. she also knows your going to lie.

“uh- fine.” you say, looking back at her.

but not into her eyes. you couldn’t handle it.

you could smell the alcohol in her breath, since when did she drink?

your brows furrow in confusion for just a second, before you relax your face and take a sip of your drink, letting silence fall over the both of you.

“how’s shark?” you ask out of pure awkwardness, what else were you supposed to ask her?

“oh uh- he’s fine. i think he misses you though.” she says, laughing softly. she looks up to see you smiling with her, she’s missed your laugh.

silence once again falls over the two of you, not having any words left to say. but there was this unspoken tension, like you needed to talk but didn’t know how to start the conversation.

“since when did you drink?” you say, looking down at my feet.

you glance up at her, looking into her eyes. her eyes are no longer on yours.

she realizes you noticed the smell of alcohol in her breath.

“since we ended things.” she says, sounding almost embarrassed. she was never a drinker.

your eyes widen for a moment, nodding slowly.

did she really start drinking then? there’s no way. she seems so.. good now.

“oh.” is all you manage to get out, not knowing what to say to that. was it your fault?

you hear her take a deep breath, as if she’s gaining the courage to say something. you glance over at her to see her looking at you like your the only person in the world.

“i really miss you y/n.” she speaks, speaking fast, like she didn’t want you to hear it.

your head snaps over to look at her, you barely heard her over the music and people chatting, but you heard it. loud and clear.

you take a deep breath, it was like everything came back to you then. specifically why you two broke up. the constant fighting and screaming matches, the secretiveness of it all.

“billie you can’t do this to me.” you say, softer then anything else you’ve said. she immediately looks away from you, as if she realizes she just fucked everything up for a second time.

“yeah- fuck- sorry.” she says, grabbing her drink from the table and getting up. she stands up, looking at you.

“just- call me if you ever feel the same.” she says quickly, before walking away, into the crowd of the party.

[mountain-maiden]

Sweet Nothing

Summary: Joel comes home from patrol in need of comfort and reassurance.

WC: 2.7k

TW: 18+ MDNI, Oral (m receiving), men whimpering, religious imagery, Taylor Swift references, author went to catholic school during formative years, author has never enjoyed giving head and didn't know how to write it :/

This is the first fanfic I've ever posted so please be nice to me!!

The snow crunches beneath Joel’s boots, yielding to the solid weight of a man on his way home. Moonlight filters in through the clouds, guiding him to your shared abode as the rest of Jackson sleeps soundly. It had been a extra long patrol, his late return made even more devastating by the knowledge you had most likely made dinner for two and eaten alone. 

His hand warms a pebble in his pocket, your pebble really. You had picked it for him during a patrol together last July, claiming the warm brown of the rock matched the honeyed irises of his eyes. He remembers how he scoffed at the notion but here he was months later, clutching the small stone for some semblance of comfort. You had rediscovered it a couple months ago, borrowing his jacket and marveling at the tiny stone that had made it all this way, stowing away in his pocket. 

“Does it ever miss the river sometimes?” You had asked, a small smirk playing on your lips as you slipped it back into his coat. He’d been found out, yet he had never really minded your small discoveries. 

He could never simply lay back and bare his soul to you, but with each calloused layer you peeled away, Joel found himself eager for you to reach his core. To peer into the depths of his soul and deem him still worthy of your love. He didn’t expect God to forgive the sins he’d committed, had stopped praying for that long ago. But at the altar of your hips, he’d get on his knees and beg for absolution until he dissolved into the dust he knelt on. Joel didn’t believe in much these days, but he believed in you with an intensity that could rival the most devout priests of the days of before. 

Finally, he is bathed in the warm light of your home, bleeding through the blinds and blanketing the snow covered path to your front porch, beckoning him inside. Joel opens the door and immediately all the tension he had been carrying begins to dissipate. The warmth of your home melts the frost from his bones as he kicks off his mud coated boots, discards his soaked through socks, and hangs his threadbare coat, eager to see your face. 

He find you in the kitchen, humming a tune he remembers from right before the outbreak, something Sarah had made him listen to, probably that Taylor Swift she was always going on about. Your whirl around when you sense his presence, eyes lighting up as you realize it’s Joel standing in your kitchen.

“I like that song,” He smiles, walking forward to embrace you, “Sarah used to listen to it a lot.”

“She had good taste,” You loop your arms around his neck, pulling him in, “Never would have taken Joel Miller for a swiftie.”

He can feel you chuckle at your own joke, but he feels no need to defend himself. Instead he focuses on the feeling of your body as he holds you against him, as tight as he can without fear of hurting you. It’s a ridiculous notion, but Joel finds himself hoping if he presses himself to you just right, he can meld your two beings so he’ll never have to be without again. It’s a selfish thought, you have a life outside of him, which is why he doesn’t voice it, but that doesn’t stop him from trying.

Eventually you pull away to inspect his face for any sign of injury, but all you find is Joel doing the same to you. It’s almost comical how the man will be on patrol in the dangers of the wilderness for days and still worry for your health while you lounge in the safety of Jackson’s walls.  

“I missed you,” Joel whispers, and he means it with the entirety of his being. The words incapable of expressing how devastatingly incomplete he felt without the melody of your laughter accompanying his meals, the bite of your scolding when he was reckless, the warmth of your body pressed against him at night.`

“I missed you too,” you smile, reaching up to comb your fingers through his hair, smoothing out the greying strands that had become tousled by the wind during his journey home.

“I saved you food,” you gesture to a closed tupperware sitting on the counter, “Do you want to shower while I reheat it for you?”

“I- Um, would ya mind joinin’ me?” Joel asks, suddenly feeling shy as if he’d just asked for your hand in marriage instead of company in the shower. 

“Not at all,” you take his hand and walk to the bathroom, unable to hold back a small grin at the knowledge Joel craved your closeness just as much as you craved his. 

You enter the small room and sit Joel on the closed toilet while you fuss over the water temperature. When you deem the water an acceptable heat, your attention returns to Joel’s seated form. You reach for the bottom of Joel’s shirt and he begins to protest. 

“I don’t need yer help takin’ my goddamn shirt off,” He huffs, no real heat to his words as he lifts his arms to aid your efforts. 

“Just because you don’t need it doesn’t mean you don’t want it,” you tease, “it’s okay Joel, we both know you’re a big softie in disguise.”

He grumbles some form of an argument but makes no real effort to convince you. Instead he quickly becomes distracted as you kneel to unbutton his jeans, belt already discarded on the floor beside you. You pull his jeans to the floor and look up to meet his heated gaze, a small smirk playing on your lips. He holds back a groan as you peel off his boxers, removing the last barrier between him and your mouth, and watches in dismay as you stand up.

“We’ll have plenty of time for that later Miller, now get in the shower,” you instruct before beginning to remove your own layers. 

Joel shakes his head and laughs as he steps into the warm stream of the shower. He lets his head hang as he feels the water cascade down his back, removing the days of sweat and grime from his skin. You pull back the curtain and step in to join him, immediately reaching out to loop your arms around his neck. 

“Hey Darlin’” Joel gives you a lopsided smile, letting you know he was finally starting to relax. 

“Hi baby,” you giggle, “Come here often?”

You watch in delight as he chuckles and pretends to pull away, “Didn’t realize I invited a dork into my shower,” Joel snorts.

“Oh please, you knew full well you were inviting a dork into your shower,” you laugh, reaching up to tip his head back and let the water run through his hair. 

“And, I actually prefer the term comedian,” you continue, stepping behind him to reach the shampoo and conditioner. 

“Comedian my ass,” you hear Joel mutter as you pour the shampoo into your hands.

The steam from the shower envelopes the both of you as Joel stands beneath the warm water. Your fingers tracing slow circles against his scalp, melting away his tension. It wasn't just the physical weariness from the patrol; it was the weight of the world he carried on his shoulders, the burden of surviving in a harsh post-apocalyptic reality. And, as your fingers worked through his hair, you could sense the tough facade he tried to hard to maintain slipping away.

"Joel," you whisper, your voice a soft caress, "you don't have to do it all alone. You have me." 

He sighs in a mixture of relief and vulnerability, his guard down in the sanctuary of your embrace. 

"You've been taking on Tommy's patrols, fixing everyone’s houses, looking after Ellie," you continue, tilting his head back to rinse the soap from him hair, "but you can't save everyone." 

His response is a low murmur, the weight of his responsibilities momentarily silenced by the soothing rhythm of your touch. 

"I can't just watch. People rely on me," Joel croaks, his voice raw with the admission of his own limitations. How could he explain his selfish motives, how it wasn’t about helping them, but saving his soul? How could he explain the weight of his past, how little time he had to redeem himself, how little time he had to become someone worthy of your love?

"And who do you rely on?" You ask, hands reaching around to his front, tracing patterns on his abdomen. "You don't need repent for surviving, Joel."

Finally, he turns to face you and you press a soft kiss to his mouth, relishing in the restrained groan he lets out. You pull away to find his eyes glazed over in lust, gaze fixed on your lips. Apparently you take too long to reconnect the kiss, because suddenly Joel is surging forward, capturing your mouth in a desperate kiss. 

He kisses you like a man starved, teeth colliding, tongue demanding entrance to your mouth, pressing your back to the cool tile of the shower wall. Fitting his thigh between your legs, you can feel his length hardening against your hip while you grind on his thigh, letting out a soft moan at the feeling. 

“‘Atta girl, so good for me.” He murmers, words spurring you on as you let out small whimpers of frustration, the angle just off, or the pressure not quite right. Joel shifts to get to his knees desperate to taste you, but halts when you grab his arm, tugging him back up. 

“Just, let me,” you sink to your knees, Joel’s broad shoulders shielding you from the spray. You press light kisses to his hips and he can’t stifle the soft whimpers that escape while you continue to tease him, lips brushing everywhere except the place he needs you most.

“Fuck baby, Ple-” He chokes on his words when you suddenly take as much of him as you can into your mouth at once. His eyes rolling back as he fights to keep his hips from thrusting forward. 

His fingers find purchase in your hair, not to guide you but to ground himself as you send him to what he imagines is the closest he’ll ever get to heaven. A sinner such as himself is never going to see those pearly gates, but in the tight heat of your mouth he can’t find it in himself to regret any of the sins that paved his path to you, his own personal salvation.

You continue to take more of him with each pass, using your hands to make up for the length you can’t fit, encouraged by Joel’s mixture of soft gasps and choked moans. 

  “Fuck baby, I’m not gonna last long” He warns. 

Joel's words only motivate you further, bracing yourself with his thighs, relaxing your throat and taking him deeper into your mouth. He can feel himself hurtling towards the edge with each passing movement, his hips bucking involuntarily against your ministrations. 

“Takin’ me so well, sweetheart, so perfect for me,” endless praise spills from his mouth as he feels his climax approach, knowing he can’t last much longer. 

“Gonna swallow for me, pretty girl?” He knows you can’t answer, he also knows the answer is already yes. 

He feels the familiar pooling of warmth in his gut and all the warning you get is a drawn out groan before he’s spilling into your mouth. Joel towers over you panting, bracing himself against the tile of the shower wall as he recovers from the waves of pleasure still crashing over him. 

“So fucking good to me,” Joel murmers, reaching down to help you off the slippery floor of the shower.

“Not doing anything you don’t deserve,” you give him a quick peck before turning the water off, having used beyond an indulgent amount. 

You make to step out of the tub but Joel pulls you back in for a searing kiss, battling his irrational fear that the second you leave the shower, he’ll discover you were just a figment of his imagination. An angel bestowing a temporary blessing on a man built more of sin than flesh. 

When he pulls away, you leave to fetch a pair of towels and return to dry him off. Joel is ashamed of how underneath your attentive care he allows himself to feel loved, how your patient hands wipe away not just the droplets of water but also the misdeeds of his past, leaving behind a glowing trail of love. He knows he doesn’t deserve any of this, but he’s taken plenty of things that didn’t belong to him in the time before you met, and he figures your affections for the man you believe him to be, a good man, can be his one last stolen good, his perfect crime. 

“I love you,” you run your fingers along the broad expanse of his shoulders, before cupping his face, forcing him to meet your eyes. 

“I love you too,” Joel whispers, allowing you to take his hand and lead him to your shared room, forgoing clothes and crawling into bed. 

“Can I return the favor?” Joel asks, beginning to position himself further down the bed before you grab his arm and pull him back up. 

“We’re both tired Joel, you’ve been awake for days, lets just sleep. Yeah?”

“You’re too good for me baby,” Joel brushes a stray hair from your face, “I’m hopin’ you won’t figure that out for a long time though.”

You laugh softly, rolling your eyes at the man above you, “one day I’m going to get it through your thick skull that you are a good man, Joel Miller.”

“My skull ain’t that thick, you wound me Darlin’” Joel clutches his heart dramatically before draping himself over you, resting his head on the soft cushion of your chest.

“Aw baby, it’s not a bad thing, a skull that thick has made you real hard to kill,” you chuckle, softly tapping at his head in jest. He lazily swats at your hand before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling himself closer to you. 

Minutes pass in silence, you assume he’s fallen asleep and are about to reach for your book, when you hear the soft rasp of Joel’s half asleep voice.

“Sometime’s I think the end might be comin’,” He murmurs, burrowing his face in the valley of your breasts, determined to mold his body to yours, “Everyone’s up to somethin’.”

You frown at his sleep-muddled words, clearly not meant to be voiced, and stroke his hair, “Yeah, there’s been a lot of push and shoving.” 

You wait for a response and when a few moments pass in silence, you grab your book and begin to read, hoping the rustling of pages isn’t enough to wake Joel. You get lost in the story and hours pass before you are closing the book and turning off the lamp, preparing to sleep. You have to resettle into the pillows and the movement causes a disruption in Joel’s slumber, a quiet groan leaving him as he attempts to get closer again.

“I might be too soft for all of it,” He murmurs, pulling you into him so he can hear your heartbeat as he drifts off. In his sleep addled state, Joel had confessed his greatest sin. The softness you cultivated within him, intertwined with the fear that perhaps he was already too late for redemption. He could carry the weight of regret every day, but it was growing hard to ignore the feeling of futility when faced with trying to mend a lifetime of mistakes in the few years he has left. Why endure the struggle for redemption when he could find heaven in the warmth of your embrace? A sinner too complacent to repent. 

In the delicate balance of vulnerability and resignation, he clings to you, his sanctuary in the face of an irredeemable past. In your arms, Joel finds reprieve from the crushing guilt, thoughts consumed by the comforting rhythm of your heartbeat. God might demand repentance for entrance to heaven, but all you’d ever asked of him was sweet nothing.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Melodic Memories | Track 3: I Need You - Lynyrd Skynyrd (1 of 2)

In a tattered old box shoved deep down in the corner of an overfilled closet, a lifetimes worth of memories lie dormant at the bottom waiting to be rediscovered.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 19.5k

Warnings: sadness, heartbreak, crying, high school breakups, unrequited love, estranged parent/strained parental relationships, angst, anger, bickering, name calling, depression, anxiety, self doubt/self consciousness, swearing, flirting, fluff, drinking, smoking, mentions of hookups/casual sex, sorry if I miss any!

Here’s part one of two 😁 part two is finished, but i gotta build some suspense. let me know what you think and we’ll see what happens in pt. 2! as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!

Also a special shout-out to @gretavangroupie and @gretavanmoon for always keeping me on track, putting up with my craziness, and for the unwavering support and encouragement 🤍 melodic memories wouldn’t be what it is without you 😌

Her POV

‘Ain't no need to worry

There ain't no use to cry

'Cause I'll be comin' home soon

To keep you satisfied

You know I get so lonely

That I feel I can't go on

And it feels so good inside, babe

Just to call you on the telephone

And I said—‘

“Do I even want to know why this one’s on here?” Mel chortled, reaching out and pressing the pause button on the CD player. The music cut out, silence filling the air around you, instantly making you miss the sound of the sweet melody. Worse yet, it made you miss the boy who burned it into the tracklist to begin with.

“What can I say? We were romantics.” You shrugged, leaning back in your chair and kicking your feet up on the desk. “Guess this one doesn’t really have a memory, per se. More or less just lots of listening.” You giggled, feeling more at ease with the reminiscent music as time dragged on.

It had been a few weeks since you reached out to Jake, a few weeks since you threw the entire universe off course and opened your heart to him once again. Most of your room was packed up now, only a few items still waiting to be thrown out or stuffed in a box. Although you’d made lots of great progress on your most pressing task, packing up boxes had not been the highlight of the weeks that had flown by. Instead of buzzing with excitement over your long awaited move, you were filled with joy that Jake was back around. Since the fated phone call that left you with so many questions and regrets, time was allowing answers and comforts over the things you never believed would resolve. The conversation between you was constant, only slowing when you were asleep, and phone calls were almost a daily routine, so long as his schedule allowed for it.

There wasn’t much talk of what the two of you were, or really what you were doing, but you did know it felt good to wake up to his name on your screen every day. You were getting to know each other again, slowly but surely, through drawn out bouts of heavy flirtation. He was sending loads of pictures as he traveled across Europe, ensuring you didn’t miss out on a single bit of his life now that he had you back around.

“Listening? What does that—oh, god, Y/N!” Mel exclaimed, recoiling in faux outrage. “This was your sex song?!” A shriek of laughter erupted from you, the expression of disgust on her face unusually funny to you. “Gross. You’re gross, you know.” She muttered, flipping to the next page of your senior yearbook.

“You were the one who said it, Mel.” You stressed your point, clicking the play button so the tune would continue. “And it wasn’t our sex song.” You corrected her on the matter, your tone short. “We had lots of sex songs, and even though this happened to be one, it’s more than just that.”

“Ugh,” she shuddered, her eyes flickering towards you. “I want to ask, but I’m not sure I want to know.”

“It was our everything song.” You shrugged. “My grandfather loved Skynyrd, and I guess he passed that down to me. Used to listen to ‘Second Helping’ over and over again when he worked outside. Could recite that album better than the bible.”

“Yeah, like you’re a godly person.” She rolled her eyes.

“You get what I mean.” You tossed the stress ball you were playing with at her head, over her dramatics and eager to tell the story.

“When we got together, I used to beg Jake to learn how to play Free Bird. Guess I never understood how hard that actually was, but eventually, he learned it anyway. It was horrible, awful, even, but he did it for me, and that’s what mattered.”

“Bet he looked hot doing it, though.” She hummed, recalling the many Instagram pictures she’d scrolled through. You narrowed your gaze, unsure if you should be upset about the statement or not. After a moment of bargaining, you decided not to take her words to heart in hopes to avoid any misplaced jealousy.

“Yeah, he definitely did.” You chuckled, conceding as you recalled the memory. He did look hot playing it, but then again, he always did. You couldn’t argue with her when she was right.

“Okay, but Free Bird isn’t on here. Why is this one important?”

“Well, Free Bird is a long song.” She let out a sigh, growing tired of waiting. A small smile pulled at your lips, knowing your drawn out rendition of the tale was torturous to her. “So, in the meantime, he learned this. Said it was easier, and more fitting, because that’s exactly how he felt about me.”

“Was your whole relationship just him leaning to play songs for you?” She asked, envious of all the grand romantic gestures. From all you told her, she quickly understood why he was so hard for you to forget.

“Not all of it, but a lot of it.” You chuckled, tapping the cap of your pen against your notebook. On the paper sat a list of the items you would need to purchase for your new apartment. Even the exciting prospect of moving out and surviving on your own couldn’t compare to the storm of thoughts that you were constantly stuck in, always pertaining to the same boy. “He was a big blues guy, and I guess we got along so well because I was, too. He showed me so much music, and I still listen to most of it.” You explained, smiling to yourself as you thought back on it. “After he played that song for me, it kinda turned into our anthem, I guess. Wherever we went, whatever we were doing, it was always in the background. Lots of road trips and beach days spent with this song, and some fantastic memories made to it. And yeah, lots of sex, too.” You sighed, dreamily reminiscing on the best days of your entire life. As you stared off at the ceiling, a pillow went flying, striking you straight in the face and abruptly ending that train of thought.

“God, you talk about it like it was phenomenal, or something. You were in high school, it couldn’t have been that good.” She rolled onto her back, holding the yearbook over her head as she continued to search for pictures of you. You giggled to yourself, tossing the pillow back to the bed. It landed beside her with a pathetic bounce, and you watched it until it fell still again.

“It was that good though.” You said, your eyes fluttering closed as you thought back to the time. “Maybe it’s because I was in love with him, but to me, it was always that good.”

“Gross, Y/N.” She teased, not actually as bothered as she was letting on. “Seriously, though. He seems great. Even after all this time, he still really loves you.” Your cheeks turned crimson, your entire body encased with warmth at the term. Love was something you were trying to push from your mind, especially because the two of you never declared that you would be rekindling the romance. There was so much up in the air, so much uncertainty, but it wasn’t a bad feeling for once. For the first time in a long time, you were excited about tomorrow and what it would bring. “Holy shit!” She exclaimed, shooting upright. You jumped in surprise, not expecting such a reaction from her.

“What is your issue?” You asked, laying a hand over your racing heart.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” she announced, reading straight from the page. You let out a groan, knowing she found the seniors section of the yearbook, and you were about to be subjected to some intense scrutiny. “Can’t imagine without: Kiszka twins and my AP bio textbook. Probably destiny: married to Jake Kiszka. Pet peeves: open-mouthed chewing, being late. First love: Jim Morrison—fair enough. Weaknesses: guitarists and brown eyes. God, you were so whipped.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

“No, it’s cute, really.” She giggled, looking over the photo of you before flipping to the next page. “Ah, Jacob Thomas Kiszka. He was a cutie, huh? Can’t imagine without: my guitar, Y/N, my brothers. Probable destiny: playing guitar on stage somewhere, married to Y/N. Pet peeves: broken patch cord, Josh. Weaknesses: High E String, sunshine. I take it you’re sunshine?”

“Shut up.” You groaned, your face burning as you tried to disappear into your seat. You knew she was having fun, and you couldn’t take that away from her, but reliving all of the embarrassing high school memories was incredibly painful.

“Y/N Y/L/N, most likely to rule the world.” She raised an eyebrow, casting a glance in your direction. You gave a shrug, chuckling slightly at her expression.

“They thought I was smart, I guess.”

“Was it in a world domination way, or like a peace-love-harmony kind of way?” She pressed, leaning into the conversation as she awaited an answer.

“Depended on the day, really.” You grinned.

“Jacob Kiszka, most likely to win a Grammy.”

“And he did.” You beamed, your stomach fluttering with pride as you said it.

“When are you getting me a rockstar boyfriend?” She huffed, only slightly envious of how the cards played out for you.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You squeaked, shutting the idea down before it could go any further. “We’re just old friends catching up. That’s all it is.”

“Yeah, sure.” She laughed, unable to agree with that statement. “You talk nonstop, and his name still has a heart beside it in your phone. You’re so in love I’m surprised you can even think of anything else.”

“Mel, would you quit it? It’s not that serious!” You tried to downplay it, defending yourself against the accusations and only ever making yourself look more guilty.

As you were about to continue your argument, your ringtone began to sound through the room, the soft melody of Dreams by Fleetwood Mac filling your ears. She raised an eyebrow, biting back a knowing smirk as she patiently waited to hear who the call was from. You pulled your phone from your pocket, your eyes drifting over the screen. Your cheeks darkened and your embarrassment grew as you saw the little red heart beside his name, but answered without any hesitation.

“Hi.” You fought back a smile, finding your heart racing as his face graced your screen. You noticed the background of the picture, his head resting on a car seat and the ambient sound of wheels on pavement filling your ears. There was quiet chatter coming from the backseat, barely noticeable even if you were straining to listen.

“Hi, sunshine.” He grinned, his eyes heavy like he’d just woken up from sleep, or perhaps he was trying his best to fight it. It had been a long time since you saw the expression on his face, it was unfamiliar now. The gravelly tone of his voice, low and slow, led you to believe he was just waking. “What are you up to?”

“Packing, as usual.” You sighed, holding the phone away from your face and spinning in your chair, showing him the plethora of boxes laying around your room. “We found my old yearbook, so we took a break to look through it.”

“Find anything good?” He asked, amused at the thought of you taking that walk down memory lane.

“She didn’t, but I definitely did.” Mel cut in, making her presence known in the best way she knew how; loudly and annoyingly.

“Hey, Mel.” Jake laughed, recognizing the tone from previous phone calls. You kicked your chair towards the bed, holding your phone a little higher so she was in frame too.

“Hello, Jacob.” She beamed. “Did you know that Y/N’s first love was Jim Morrison?” She began, her eyes flickering towards you as she spoke.

“Okay, Mel—“ you tried, but Jake cut you off mid sentence, liking the direction the conversation was headed in.

“I did know that, actually.” He grinned, blinking a few more times as he sat up in his seat. “What else did you find?”

“Oh, nothing too serious.” She sighed, pretending to ponder the question. “I did happen to learn that her weaknesses, apparently, are guitarists with brown eyes. What a coincidence, right?”

“Huh, that is strange.” He giggled, his cheeks dusted pink as he listened to her words. “Still true, sweetheart?” He asked, his question pointed at you now.

“Yeah, I guess.” You smiled, speaking softly and sweetly. “Happen to know anyone who fits the bill?”

“I do, actually.” A voice cut in from the backseat, half a head popping into view of the camera. Your eyes lit up, your smile blinding as you recognized the boy in view.

“Sam!” You exclaimed, barely noticing Jake landing a sharp smack on his arm. He didn’t have much time to greet you, because Jake was pushing him back into his seat and telling him to mind his own business.

“Sorry ‘bout him.” Jake cleared his throat, sending a threatening stare over his shoulder. “You know how he is. Loves being the center of attention, and he never got over that crush he had in the eighth grade.” You heard a shout of protest from the backseat, but neither of you paid any mind to it.

“Sounds like someone else I know.” You gave a playful roll of your eyes, teasing him despite there being some truth to the statement.

“Kiszka curse, I suppose.” He shrugged. “What else did you find, Mel?”

“In 2014, you said your weakness was sunshine.” Mel continued, looking back at the book to double check if the statement was correct. “You like the sun, Jacob?” He chuckled to himself, his eyes sparkling with nothing but adoration as he watched your face. He continued to focus on you as he replied.

“Yeah, I do. I love sunshine, Mel. Always have.” Your entire body warmed with the sweetness of his words, your stomach filled with butterflies and your heartbeat rapidly against your chest.

“Hmm,” she hummed, an evil little smirk on her lips. “Who would’ve thought?”

“Alright, that’s enough.” You huffed, trying your best to digest his words and move on from the subject. Focusing on it would do nothing but worsen the blossoming feelings in your chest, and you were doing everything in your power to keep them at bay. “Where are you headed, anyway?” You tried to change the topic, hoping it would lessen the tugging of your heartstrings.

“I’m glad you asked, sunshine.” He grinned, making the intent of his last statement even more obvious. “Since we’ve got a few weeks before our next show, the boys and I got to talking, and we decided to visit home for a few days.”

“Home?” You asked, leaning forward in your seat at the new information. “Like, Michigan?” You tried not to let your excitement get the best of you, but your hands were vibrating, making it difficult to hold the phone steady. The prospect of possibly being able to see Jake again, in person rather than through a screen, was almost too much to take.

“Where else, sweetheart?” He smiled, noticing your eyes light up at the realization. Of course, to his brothers, Michigan was home. To him though, the state had little to do with the homesickness ravaging his heart. The only thing that made it feel like home was you, and that’s exactly what he was headed towards. Like an invisible rope tying the two of you together, he’d been feeling the pull ever since you decided to break the no contact rule you had put in place so long ago.

“You’re really on your way here?” You asked, needing the confirmation to believe he was telling the truth.

“Here now, actually. Checked into the hotel a few hours ago and we’re headed to see our parents.” He clarified further, sending a small smile your way.

“So that’s why you’ve barely been texting me!” You exclaimed, finally piecing the two together. “You suck at lying, and you’re terrible at keeping secrets.” You giggled, knowing it for a fact and knowing it better than anyone else. Every gift, every date, every moment spent together was never anything close to a surprise, but it was perfectly fine by you; you loved the excitement in his eyes when he was about to share something with you, loving you so much that he couldn’t bear to keep a single thought to himself.

“Yeah, yeah, you caught me.” He conceded, knowing there was no winning that fight. “If you’re free tonight, I’d love to see you. Maybe take you out for dinner or a drink, for old times sake?” He offered, holding his breath as he awaited a reply. He’d been eager to ask, but anxious about your response, spending the entire drive psyching himself up to find the courage.

You were stunned at the idea, unable to believe that his first thought was you, that he would miss out on precious time spent with his family to take you out to dinner. You wanted to go, more than anything else in the world, but you couldn’t deny the nervous energy that filled you as soon as he suggested it. So far, it had been incredibly difficult to keep your feelings to yourself as you spent countless hours on the phone with him, and you knew it would be even harder if he was right in front of you. In fact, you knew it would be impossible to think of anything other than the way you felt about him, and that made you want to decline.

Still, you were so scared of getting your heart broken that you were willing to deny yourself of the only thing you ever wanted.

As sneakily as possible, Mel reached forward and delivered a sharp smack to your leg, snapping you from your thoughts and forcing you to answer. “I, uh… I’d love to, Jake. I just gotta check and make sure there’s nothing planned, you know? I-I just want to make sure before I say yes.”

You couldn’t see her, but the eye roll Mel found herself giving was glaringly obvious to Jake, who could see her plain as day in the background.

“She’d love to go, Jake. We have absolutely nothing planned.” Mel corrected, doing her best not to deliver another hit to your leg for being so ridiculous. You bit down on your tongue, your stomach swirling with anxiety as you looked at the clock on the wall. “Right, Y/N?”

“Right.” You squeaked, knowing there was no backing out, now. “Nothing planned.” You forced a smile on your face, trying your best to stay calm. You felt like running a lap around the house, just to rid yourself of the nervous jitters that began to creep up on you. You wanted to see him so badly, but you had no idea how to keep it PG with him. How could you when he looked so fucking stunning, all of the time?

“Okay.” Jake chuckled, noticing the tension between you. “If you’ve got nothing else going on, I can pick you up at six?” He asked, making sure the time was good for you.

“Six is great.” Mel assured him. “See you soon! Can’t wait to meet you!” She sang, reaching over and hitting the end call button in a flash. As soon as the call disconnected, you whipped around to face her, a grievous look in your eye.

“Nothing planned!? Six is great?!” You shouted, furious with her for forcing your hand in the matter.

“Oh my god, Y/N! What is wrong with you?” She groaned, covering her face with her hands to hide her secondhand embarrassment. “The man of your dreams magically shows up after six years, drives to Michigan just to see you, and you have to check if you have other plans?!”

“You don’t get to decide that for me!” You exploded, sitting completely upright in your seat. “What if I’m not ready for this? How am I supposed to keep it casual when I’m still in love with the guy?!” She closed her eyes, calming herself down before she reached forward. Both of her hands landed on your shoulders, her grip firm as she literally shook you out of your own thoughts.

“Listen to me.” She urged. “Stop trying to ruin this for yourself! This is the opportunity of a lifetime, Y/N. Don’t you get that? He loves you, you love him, stop trying to run away from it!” She gave you a small shake with every word that fell from her lips. As she spoke, you managed to swallow back the ball of anxiety that was choking you, allowing you to breathe for a second.

“I’m scared, Mel. I’m terrified. Don’t you get that?” You sighed, reaching up and holding her arms to ground yourself. You closed your eyes and let your head fall towards the floor. “He was my biggest heartbreak, and my greatest love. It’s fantastic that he’s back in my life, but I’m so scared of losing him that it makes me want to tell him to leave. I don’t want to open my heart up like that again, because it nearly killed me last time.”

“Stop living in the future, and stop thinking about the past.” She said, her voice much softer as she understood your fears a little better. “Think about you, right now. Think about how happy you are when you talk to him, about how good it makes you feel. Babe, you haven’t been this happy in… well, ever. Open your heart a little bit. Let him in. You don’t have to give everything all at once, but you can’t give him nothing at all.”

“That’s the hard part. I’ve never known how to meet in the middle. I want to give him everything, all of the time.” You groaned. You let your head fall back on your shoulders, resting against the back of the chair as you bargained with her. She had good points, but she didn’t know the version of you that was in love with Jake. She didn’t know how much you would give just to make him happy, how much you would give just to love him.

“The universe gave you a chance to start over, Y/N. You have to take it.” She sighed, knowing that she was wasting her breath. “Don’t shut him out, because in six years, we’ll be sitting here doing this all over again.” You stayed silent for a moment, biting down on the inside of your lip as you contemplated everything she had to say.

Could you really force yourself away from him? Could you really walk away after spending so long eager to run back to him? Could you stomach the pain of sitting here again in the future, suffering because you let him slip through your fingers twice?

Of course you couldn’t; Jake was the whole reason your heart beat, the thing that forced you out of bed and the last thought that lulled you to sleep. He was the birds singing in the morning sky, and the stars twinkling in unison with the moonlight. He was the only thing you wanted, and he was the whole world.

You wanted to love him until you couldn’t possibly love any more, and even then you would try harder. He was worth it to you; the risk, the pain, the sadness and sacrifice was all worth a minute of his time, and a single second of his love.

“Okay.” You breathed, slapping your palms down onto your knees. “I have to take it.” You agreed, giving a curt nod of your head. You were terrified, horrified at the thought of this meaning something different to him as it did to you. You couldn’t stomach the idea of him showing up at your door and realizing that he didn’t want you like he thought he did, but you stood anyhow, glancing at the clock as you worked up the courage to take a step. “Oh, god.” You whined, feeling the pre-date panic begin to set in. “I only have an hour.”

“Let’s get to work, then.” She grinned, happy to hear you were finally on the same page. “You go shower, I’ll find you something to wear.” She said, ushering you out the door.

“Yeah, okay.” You agreed, rushing towards the hallway and into the bathroom. You shut the door behind you, your heart pounding in your chest and your mind racing. You took a long breath to calm yourself, then discarded your clothes on the floor. You flipped the shower on, stepping in as the water warmed. You washed your hair, letting the conditioner sit in while you washed the rest of your body. As you were clipping the mound of hair to the top of your head, you heard a knock at the door. Within a few moments, it was open and Mel was talking.

“Are you shaving?”

“Get out.” You laughed, finding her invasive nature comforting. She had always been the same, overbearing and a little controlling, but for the best reasons. You were grateful for her, even if she was a little much, especially in such a chaotic time. “Should I shave? Is sex implied?” You asked, beginning to panic again. “Is sex implied?” You asked again, a little more frantic.

“You should shave.” She said, simple but very clear with her intent. Your stomach twisted with another wave of nerves, but you obliged anyway.

When you were clean, she left you alone to dry yourself off. You did your skincare as fast as you could, securing the towel around your body as you walked back to your room to see what outfit she had chosen for you. She stood by the bed, hand on her hip as three outfits laid out on the mattress, awaiting your decision. You stepped forward, looking at all of them before turning your head towards her, your eyes wide and your lips turned down into a frown.

“Mel!” You scolded, noticing that all of the choices seemed to be lacking one thing; coverage. She picked the skimpiest outfits she could find, and with your eyes on the clock, you felt your anxiety begin to take over once again. “I can’t wear any of this!”

“Sure you can!” She smiled, moving to pick a dress up from the bed. She held it to her body, her eyebrows raised as she waited to hear your thoughts.

“I’m going on a date, not a frat party!” You exclaimed, stressed that she was so insistent on you wearing one of the three. The clothes looked like they walked straight out of her freshman year closet, much too wild for the woman who she was trying to force them upon.

“Ugh, fine.” She rolled her eyes, turning back to a box on the floor. “I knew you’d argue with me, so here.” She sighed, picking a dress from the top. Your shoulders relaxed as your eyes drifted over the soft, red material.

“That’s better.” You said, a wordless thank you in your tone as you grabbed it. Once you were back in the bathroom, you dropped the towel and slipped the dress over your head. You fixed the spaghetti straps and settled the slip on your legs. The flowy material was as comfortable as it was pretty, and the neckline showed just enough to catch his eye, but not enough to show off. “Much better.” You muttered to yourself, smiling at your reflection in the mirror.

“Are you decent?” Mel asked through the door, impatiently waiting in the hall.

“Yes.” You rolled your eyes, twisting the knob and opening the door to let her inside.

“That looks really good on you.” She complimented, straightening the back of the skirt as she set your makeup bags on the counter. Under her arm was a curling iron, a blow dryer and a box of rollers.

“Thanks.” You hummed, drumming your fingers against the countertop. The surplus of energy coursing through you was unlike anything you’d ever felt before, and you could barely hold yourself still.

“Hey,” she spoke softly, catching your attention as she unraveled the cord for the blow dryer. “Relax. It’s gonna be fine.” She assured you, plugging the cord into the wall.

“You’re right.” You breathed, pulling the towel from your head. “It’s just been so long since I’ve seen him. I’m really nervous.”

“Really? Couldn’t tell.” She chuckled, bringing the blow dryer to your hair as she combed through it. It didn’t take long for the strands to dry and she was plugging the curling iron in to warm. While you waited, you started on your makeup, checking the time to make sure you weren’t running late.

You took a break from makeup while she curled the ends of your hair, twisting the locks around the rollers and pinning them to your head to set. She finished with the hair framing your face, and you continued to paint your face in the mirror. When you swiped on a layer of lip gloss, you leaned in to get a closer look, fixing any imperfections as you studied your reflection.

“You look beautiful.” She said, easing your worries. As she pulled the rollers from your hair, she gave a small spray of hairspray to each one, then combed it all out for you. “And just on time.” She said, tapping your phone screen to check the clock.

“Thank you for your help. I’m sorry I got so… worked up.” You murmured, guilty over your harsh words and stubborn attitude.

“No need to apologize. I know you, babe. I know what I signed up for.” She giggled, fluffing your hair ever so slightly. She pulled a few curls over your shoulder, then nudged you towards the door. “He should be here any minute.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Always am.” She grinned, pulling the door open and allowing you to step out first.

You stopped by your bedroom, grabbing your purse and clasping a gold chain around your neck. You rummaged around an old jewelry box, finding some gold hoops to go with it, and sprayed on some perfume. When you felt certain you were ready, you made your way towards the stairs. Before your foot even hit the top step, you heard the doorbell chime, and your stomach plummeted. Mel was behind you, close enough to ensure you would turn and hide. You swallowed hard, slowly making your way down the steps. Your palms were clammy and your chest was tight, but you couldn’t ignore the excitement blossoming deep in your heart.

Your mom had rushed to the door, uncertain of who could be visiting so late in the evening. You felt bad, realizing you should have told her long before that moment. As your feet hit the linoleum of the kitchen floor, you heard a loud noise, your mothers excitement almost too much for her to handle. “Jacob Kiszka, look at you!” She fawned over the man that stood before her, her voice echoing through the entire house. Your steps became slower, shorter as you grew closer to the entryway. Mel was behind you, encouraging you to keep moving forward despite your mind begging you to run away. “Gosh, you’re all grown up now. Another one of my babies.” You could hear her tone become muffled, likely because he’d pulled her into a hug, because he’d always been so loving to her, too.

“You ready?” Mel whispered, her chin practically resting on your shoulder.

“Not at all.” You shook your head, more anxious than you’d ever been.

“Y/N! Come look who’s here!” Your mom shouted into the hallway, not realizing you were standing a few feet away from her. With one last breath of courage, you rounded the corner and stepped into view.

Jake’s POV

As she appeared in front of you, you were certain the world stopped turning. There seemed to be a golden glow surrounding her, radiating from her as she stepped towards you; sunshine, but even brighter and more beautiful than the burnt up old star in the sky. A long forgotten warmth washed over you, comforting and loving, just like it felt to be in her company when you were eighteen. She was different, her face reflecting the time that had passed but leaving her even more beautiful than she was before. The smile on her lips nearly sent you to your knees before her, begging for just one more chance to show her how much she meant to you, but you kept your composure as you studied her.

There were freckles splattered across the bridge of her nose, the ones that splayed into perfect little constellations you once considered yourself an expert on. They only came out in the summertime, when her days were spent outside and under the sun that could only envy her and the light she provided. The dress she was wearing stopped mid thigh, showing off the knees that were still littered with scars from years spent riding bikes and tripping over shoelaces. Her hair was much longer, like she hadn’t cut it at all since you last saw her, and it too was graced by the sun and lighter than it was in the winter months.

The crinkles by her eyes when she smiled, so similar to how they were when you were in high school, but just a little more pronounced. Age had been kind to her, and you were certain that as the years continued to pass, she would only ever grow more beautiful.

You were nervous, your entire day leaving you near insanity as you planned and perfected the evening, and insanity creeping closer as you called to ask her to join you for the night. You knew her hesitation was likely due to the same reasons as your own, but you couldn’t help the stab in your chest you felt when Mel answered for her. Now, seeing her all dolled up and sheepish as she stood before you, her hands linked together in front of her as she shied away from eye contact, you knew she wanted to see you as bad as you wanted to see her.

After six years spent wandering, aimless and hopeful for something to change, it finally did. The struggle, the fear and the hurt all made sense, because she was standing in front of you again.

She was still yours, just like you were still very much hers.

Her POV

As your eyes connected with his own, you nearly fell to your knees in grief. In a single second, you found yourself mourning the boy you used to love and falling desperately for the man who stood in his place. His hair was even longer than it seemed in the video calls, framing the perfect picture of his face. It was pushed back slightly by the sunglasses sat atop his head, keeping the strands from his eyes. His eyes, brown and beautiful, giving you that long awaited relief from your everlasting sense of homesickness.

He was wearing a tan button up shirt, only the last three buttons secure. Over top was a white, weathered blazer, loose on him and the sleeves cuffed once off his wrists. His pants matched the color of the blazer, the button up tucked in messily and the peek of a brown leather belt showing. There was a pendant around his neck, drawing your attention to his chest that was exposed through the peek of his shirt. There was a watch around his wrist, and a ring on his middle finger.

He was positively beautiful, and you couldn’t manage to take your eyes off of him.

“Oh my god.” Mel whispered, just quiet enough for you to hear. She was thinking all the same things, and you couldn’t blame her a bit. He was gorgeous, and you were doing everything in your power not to run straight into his arms.

The only thing that made the scene better was the fact his eyes were raking over you, admiring you with the same intensity.

“Long time no see, sunshine.” He rasped, unable to tear his gaze away from you. You took a step towards him, your previous fears and worries fleeing you in an instant. Like all of those years ago, there was this irresistible pull towards him, like the universe was forcing the two of you together.

“Jake, you look…” you trailed off, your voice quiet as you approached him. “So different.” You chose your words carefully, not wanting to come on too strong.

“In a good way, I hope.” He grinned, stepping forward out of the doorway. You were close enough that you could smell his cologne, the sandalwood and amber taking over your senses and wrapping you in a familiar comfort. It was almost the same, but a little more expensive and much more tempting.

“Are you kidding?” You giggled, watching as he extended his arm and invited you in for a hug. You finally surpassed the small boundary still existing between you and fell into his arms. Your own wrapped around his torso, your chest landing against his and your head naturally falling to his shoulder. One of his strong arms snaked around your waist, his opposite hand cupping the back of your head as he held you to him.

After six years of suffering, the world finally felt right.

“You look absolutely breathtaking, sweetheart. Just like always.” He whispered, just loud enough to reach your ears. His chest rattled against your own as his words vibrated through him, only drawing you further into his touch. Despite your mother and your best friend watching the long and drawn out reunion, you never wanted him to let go. Eventually, he pulled back ever so slightly, looking down over your face but not easing his grip on you. “You always knew how to leave me speechless.”

“Don’t sound very speechless to me.” You giggled, finding the comfortability between you the same as it was so long ago.

“God,” he sighed, taking your face in his hands. His hold was gentle, his thumb gently caressing your cheek as he took in the sight of your face. It had been so long since he had you so close, and he wasn’t sure if he could ever let it go again. “It’s so good to see you, sunshine.” Your hands rested on his sides, the material of his shirt felt nice in your hands as you held him close.

“You too, bug.” You smiled, your cheeks rosy and your head swirling with excitement. “I like the mustache.” You fought the urge to reach up and touch it, knowing you would be opening a door you’d never be able to close.

“Yeah?” He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with love, just like they did when you were kids.

“Definitely. You should keep it.” You whispered, finding yourself caught in a staring contest. Neither of you seemed keen on pulling away, nor did you seem to want to stop the pull of gravity forcing you together.

“If you say so.” He chuckled, knowing now that you said that, he’d never want to shave it off.

“Let me introduce you to Mel, then we can get going.” You breathed, your stomach sick at the thought of pulling away from him. His hand drifted down your cheek, his calloused fingertips tickling your neck as he made sure to admire every inch of you. He didn’t want to separate either, but he knew he had a whole night of having you to himself.

“Yeah, f’course.” He nodded, letting his hand ghost over your shoulder and down your arm. The light touch sent a shiver down your spine, your skin littered with goosebumps and the hair on the back of your neck standing straight. You couldn’t believe he still had such an effect on you.

You took a step back, noticing his fingers trail all the way down your forearm and lightly dust your own. You had to fight every urge not to interlock your fingers with his, trying to push the thought from your head as you turned to face Mel.

“This is Jake.” You said, sending her a nervous smile.

“Nice to finally meet you, Jacob. I’m Mel.” She stepped forward, extending her hand for him to shake. “I’ve heard lots about you.”

“Good things, I hope.” He gave a nervous chuckle, accepting her gesture. “I’ve heard lots about you, too.”

“All bad things, I assume.” At that, the two shared a laugh, the nerves of the first meeting wearing off immediately. You couldn’t help but feel your heart warm at the sight of them laughing together, your two favorite people in the whole world.

“Thanks for letting me steal her from you tonight.” He smiled, feeling a need to express his gratitude.

“Take care of her, okay?” She asked, sending a soft smile your way. “Not much we don’t do together, so someone has to keep her out of trouble.”

“You have my word.” He promised, knowing he would always do everything he could to keep you safe. He turned to you, eager to get you alone so he could finally catch up with you properly.

“You ready to head out?” You asked, catching his eye.

“Yeah,” he nodded, but seemed slightly hesitant on the idea. You cocked your head to the side, curious about his reaction. “I just… before we do, can I meet your cat?” He asked, almost embarrassed by the question. You swallowed hard, your heart drumming in your chest as you tried not to melt into a puddle of emotion before his very eyes.

“Let me get him.” Mel grinned, stepping back into the kitchen and grabbing a bag of treats from the counter. She gave it a shake, the familiar sound filling the stale air. When it was met with silence, she gave it another shake, louder and slightly more aggressive. Within a few seconds, the jingle of a bell could be heard, and Ozz came bounding down the stairs, enticed by the idea of getting something to eat.

Once he was within range, Mel reached down and scooped him up in her arms. He let out a meow of protest, but snuggled into her hold despite his feelings on the matter. She rejoined the group, offering Jake the bag of treats as she held the little black cat to her chest.

“Me?” He asked, taking them from her and looking at the bag in surprise.

“What better way to make a first impression?” You giggled, watching as he opened the ziplock bag and poured a few out in his hand. Ozz’s ears perked up, his head turning towards Jake as he realized what was happening. Jake stepped forward, offering the treats straight from his hand. Ozz leaned forward, giving a hesitant sniff as he tried to decide if Jake was a threat, but eventually fell to the temptation of food.

You couldn’t help but admire the sweetness of the moment, noticing the childlike glee in Jake’s eyes as he tried to make a bond with the pet you dreamed of having since you were young. When the treats were gone, he reached up and scratched behind his ear. Ozz’s eyes closed and you could hear him purring even from a distance. Jake was precious, in every moment of every day, and you couldn’t deny the tugging of your heartstrings as you watched the scene unfold.

“I think he likes you.” You stated, your arms crossed over your chest as a smile pulled at your lips.

“He passed the test.” Mel agreed, looking between the two of you. Eventually, her eyes settled on Jake and she stepped closer, offering her arms out to him. “You want to hold him.”

“W-what?” Jake asked, almost nervous at the thought. “I mean, yeah. S’long as he’s okay with it.”

“Trust me, he’ll be fine with it.” You chuckled, watching as Jake slowly took the cat from her arms. With little problem, Ozz seemed to settle comfortably, looking up in curiosity at the unfamiliar, long-haired man. “Told you.” You said, watching as Ozz leaned closer to his face, nuzzling his head into his cheek.

“You used to talk about getting a cat all of the time.” Jake said, content with the curious cat in his arms as he looked over at you. “I’m so glad you finally did.”

“I did talk about it a lot, didn’t I?” You blushed slightly, surprised he remembered so well.

“All of the time.” He stressed his point, grinning at the memory. “He’s a sweet little thing.” Jake commented, his eyes flickering away from you for a moment. “Just like his mother.” He muttered the second part, just under his breath. You swallowed hard, your heart racing at the sound of his words. The whole thing was nearly overwhelming for you, the picture of the two too much to handle.

“Mind if I get a picture?” You asked, pulling your phone from your purse. You looked to him for approval, knowing that you wanted to remember the moment forever.

“You don’t have to ask.” He rolled his eyes, playful as you aimed your camera at him. You snapped a few pictures, your stomach twisting with an unfamiliar feeling as you selected all of them to add to an album. You scrolled all the way to the end of the page, your eyes landing on an empty album with the same name as it had all those years ago. You could handle deleting the pictures, but not the chapter in its entirety.

A small smile crossed your lips as your phone confirmed the addition to the album, the words flashing across your screen and causing your heart to beat just a little harder.

Three photos added to album: mi amor ❤️

Oh, how good it felt for there to be pictures filling it once again.

“Alright, you ready?” You giggled, watching as the curious little creature raised his head towards Jake’s, sniffing intently as he tried to familiarize himself with him.

“Yeah, let’s go.” He laughed, but didn’t seem keen on parting with Ozz. You stepped forward, catching the cat’s attention by placing a soft hand on his back. He let out a ‘mmrph’, turning to look at you and giving a slow blink. You leaned in closer, nudging the top of his head with your nose as you held yourself back from kissing him. As you found yourself immersed in the moment, you barely noticed Mel behind you, snapping a photo of the three of you together.

Carefully, you took the cat from his arms and placed him down on the floor. Then, you handed the bag of treats back to Mel. You slipped on a pair of heels you’d worn when you went to the bar a few days ago, deciding they were good enough for the occasion. Jake gave you a soft smile, his hand ghosting over your lower back as you raised your leg to tighten the strap around your heel. He was barely touching you, but your stomach was filled with butterflies, perhaps more so because of his undying need to keep you safe.

“Alright, I’ll see you later.” You turned to look at your best friend, who had a knowing look in her eye. She wouldn’t be seeing you until long after the sun rose in the sky tomorrow, but she kept that thought to herself.

“See you soon.” She replied, her eyes flickering to Jake. “Nice to meet you, finally.” She extended the sentiment towards him and he reiterated it to her. With a gentle hand, he guided you towards the door, patiently waiting as your mom pulled you into a hug.

She placed a small kiss on your cheek, holding you there for a moment to fully express her happiness for you. “Have fun, lovebug. Be safe.”

“I will, I promise.” You whispered, holding her just a little tighter. Your mom had been there for everything, celebrating every happy day and holding you for the worst of them. Still, despite seeing so many tears fall for the boy who now stood behind you, a mother’s instinct always told her that the story wasn’t over for the two of you. Seeing you back together, no matter how innocent the situation was, made the world seem right again. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she stressed, fixing the chain around your neck. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.” She hummed, just loud enough for you to hear. With that, you stepped towards the door, watching as she pulled Jake into another hug. “Always good to see you, Jacob. Try not to wait so long before your next visit, alright?”

“Of course.” He promised, sending her a smile. With that, he turned to you, and you continued on your way.

When the door shut behind him, you finally felt reality begin to catch up and the nervousness return. You dreamed of this moment for so long, and now that it was finally happening, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. He walked up beside you, looking to his side so he could catch sight of your face again. When you noticed his eyes on you, you felt your cheeks heat and your palms turn clammy. He was the same person you loved so dearly, but he was so different. You had no idea where to start, what to ask to get to know him again, and you were panicking at the silence between you. You wondered what he was thinking, if he was just as nervous as you were, or if he was as cool and collected as he was when you were kids, when nothing seemed to phase him.

“You hungry?” He finally asked, starting easy as he opened the passenger side door for you.

“Yeah, are you?” You asked, relieved that he didn’t mind taking the initiative.

“Starving.” He replied, a far away look in his eyes and he tucked your dress under your leg, not wanting it to catch in the door as he shut it. When he closed it and began walking around to the drivers side, you took a second to ponder what exactly he meant by that. His response was fitting for the conversation, but the expression on his face was something you had seen a hundred times, and you were certain it had little to do with the desire for dinner.

You swallowed hard as he climbed into the vehicle with you, starting it and turning down the radio. Before he backed out of the driveway, he took a moment to admire you.

“You look beautiful, sunshine.” He said again, making sure you knew he meant it. A small smile crossed your lips, and your stomach twisted with nerves as his hand raised to the headrest of your seat. He planted his palm firmly on the back of it, looking over his shoulder as he reversed out onto the street. The smell of his cologne hit you with full force, stronger now that you were contained in the small space. You held yourself in place, trying to ignore the urge to lean into his open arm.

It was so easy to fall back into the old routine, like no time had passed at all.

“You look pretty good yourself.” You said, shyly as you let your eyes take in the entire picture of him. “Europe treated you well.” He chuckled at your words, a little bashful himself over your comment. There was so much truth to the fact, his normally tanned skin even more sunkissed and all the more alluring. He was glowing, his hair lighter than usual and his face soft and smooth. He looked expensive, iridescent as the evening sunlight pooled in through the windshield, like he omitted his own, irresistible aura.

“Guess it did,” he shrugged, trying to play it off as if it were nothing. “Lots of sights to see, lots of days spent in the sun, and wine better than you could ever imagine.”

“Don’t make me jealous, now.” You grinned, relaxing into your seat a little more as the conversation flowed easily.

“No need to be jealous, sweetheart. I’ll take you someday, you can see it for yourself.” You couldn’t help but feel your heart beat faster at the idea, wondering if he truly meant it or if it was just because he was trying to be nice.

“Big plans, I see.” You grinned, finding yourself unable to take your eyes off of him.

“Always, sunshine.” He hummed, nodding ever so slightly as he drove through the old suburbs. “If you want to, of course.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed.” You replied, swallowing hard at the sight of one of his hands wrapped firmly around the steering wheel. His other arm rested against the door, his hand slightly hanging out the window rolled all the way down. The warm air filled the car, the chill of the AC hitting your exposed legs at the same time, sending you back to a time you remember fondly.

You wondered if he missed the Michigan summers as much as you did, the sticky air sweet and your days spent by the lake trying to combat the heat. You wondered if he remembered all the nights spent on your rooftop, overlooking the neighborhood as the smell of smoke clung to his clothes and the taste of sweet strawberry wine lingered on your lips. A cigarette between his fingers and his arm wrapped around you, pulling you closer as you stared up at the twinkling stars, the grasshoppers bountiful and the owls hooting in the distance.

You wanted to ask, but you couldn’t bear the thought of him not adoring the memories as much as you did. Worse than that, you couldn’t imagine the time being lost on him, shoved so deep down and buried underneath the surplus of memories he’d created after you left.

“Any restaurant in mind, or do you trust me?” He asked, his eyes flickering over to you.

“I trust you.” You assured him, knowing that if trust was a problem, it was never with him.

“Good, ‘cause I already called and ordered for us. That would’ve been awkward.”

He ordered something for you? He was that confident that after six years, he still knew what you would want to eat?

“Planning ahead?” You teased, crossing your hands neatly in your lap so you didn’t reach out to grab his own.

“Yeah, sorry.” He chuckled. “I was excited, I get ahead of myself sometimes.”

“That’s okay.” You promised, the sentiment behind his actions warning your chest. “What did you get?” You asked, unable to curb your curiosity. He shifted in his seat, clearly affected by your question and conflicted as he tried to keep the surprise.

“You’ll… have to wait and see.” He forced out, his lips curling into a smile.

“Oh, come on, Jake.” You pressed further, knowing it wouldn’t take much to get him to crack. “Not even a hint?”

“Don’t do that to me, sunshine.” He warned, nearly squirming under the pressure. You bit down on the inside of your lip, happy to see that some things were still the same. Jake’s ability to keep secrets had always been a struggle for him, and you knew that no amount of time could rid him of that.

“Please?” You smirked, pouting your bottom lip ever so slightly. You watched him look at you through the corner of his eye, his sunglasses not able to cover the stress quickly filling his features.

“Fuck,” he huffed, trying to focus on the road. “You’re killing me, sweetheart.”

“Just tell me, bug. You know you want to.” You continued your torment, almost letting yourself reach out and place a hand on his knee. As soon as you realized what you were doing, you clasped your hands tighter together, not wanting to read too far into a story you weren’t sure was beginning.

“Chinese, from that little place we used to go to when we were kids.” He rushed the words, like he’d hit a wall and collapsed from the impact. At the sound of it, your eyes lit up and a blinding smile crossed your lips.

He remembered.

“We went on our first date there!” You exclaimed, twisting in your seat to get a better look at him. “In the tenth grade, your parents sat a few tables over from us.”

“Yeah,” he beamed, almost relieved that you recalled the date with such clarity, and even more so that you didn’t think it was weird. “Dad gave me his card to pay, so I could impress you.”

“I guess it worked out, didn’t it?” You replied, your cheeks pink as you remembered how excited you were. It was almost the same as you were feeling at that moment, on your way to your second first date.

Date.

Was this a date? Or was this just old friends catching up?

You were confused and conflicted, and a part of you wanted to believe the night had innocent intentions. Still, there was a larger, more complex part of yourself that desperately wanted it to be a date, and for him to say it was. Instead of asking, you pushed the thought away, knowing you would find out in due time.

“It did. For a while, at least.” He chuckled, unable to hide the flash of pain in his eyes as he said it. “This time, we aren’t eating in. I have other plans for tonight.”

“Oh?” You asked, understanding he’d been planning this out much more than you thought he was.

“Please, let me keep it a secret, sunshine. Promise it’ll be worth it, okay?” He said, looking over at you now. Your lips pulled into a tight smile as you debated his words, knowing it would be more fun to push him.

“Promise?” You reiterated, making him sweat a little bit.

“Pinky promise, sunshine.” He said, grasping the wheel tightly in one hand as he reached his other out to you, his pinky extended towards you. You reached up, interlocking your finger with his.

“Alright, bug.” You conceded, trying to ignore the shock of electricity running through you from the simple touch.

“Thank you.” He gave a sigh of relief, looking back to the road but making no move to pull his hand away. Your eyes drifted down to the point of connection between your hands, wondering why he was letting it linger for so long. His eyes flickered to meet yours, a silent question of your comfortability with his actions.

He wanted it too.

Wordlessly, you outstretched your hand, your fingertips tickling his palm as you laced the appendages between his own. You never let your eyes leave him as you did so, continuing on high alert until his hand was comfortably held in your own and his thumb was drifting across your knuckles. You ignored the small smile tugging on his lips, because you knew if you called him out on it, you would be a hypocrite. He lowered his arm, letting your intertwined hands rest on your thigh, testing the waters before making any further moves. When you didn’t say a word in protest, both of you relaxed into the position without any more worries.

“Tell me about Mel.” He said, finally gaining the courage to speak again.

“What do you want to know?”

“Well, everything.” He chuckled. “She’s your person, now. I used to be your person, so I guess I want to know if she’s taking care of you, like I would.” He shrugged, never once glancing in your direction. You were happy for that, because you couldn’t stand for him to see the pain on your face that stemmed from his words.

“Jake,” you whispered, giving your head a slight shake. “You… you still are. Even if it’s not the same, you’ll always be my person.” You explained, appalled that he believed that he didn’t mean anything to you anymore. “One of them, at least. Back then, I only ever had you and Josh, but I have a few more now, I guess. You’re still one of them. You never stopped being one of them.” You swore that you heard his breath catch in his throat, that his emotional response was so great that it bled into a physical one, but you didn’t linger on it for long. The whole situation was strange, but you didn’t want to get your hopes too high, just in case it turned out to be different than what you wanted.

“You never stopped being mine, either.” He said, his hand squeezing yours ever so gently. You tried not to focus on the feeling, still stuck in a constant state of self-doubt, but it felt nice to be loved by him, even if it was different than it used to be. “Tell me about her, sunshine.” He urged, noticing a silence growing between you again. In truth, he didn’t care if that’s what it was about; he just wanted to hear the sound of your voice.

“Uh, we met in freshman year. We sat beside each other in our first lit class. Took us a few days to speak to each other, but once we did, we never really stopped.” You started, recounting the memory fondly. “When I first moved away, I had a really hard time adjusting. The people there were… different.” You put it lightly, ignoring the real reason you had trouble adjusting. It had nothing to do with the type of people there, but because none of them were him. “They were expensive looking, preppy and kind of annoying. They were very judgemental, ‘specially the girls, and I didn’t really feel like I fit in. It was a lot different than home, and it took me a while to get used to it.”

You could almost hear his heart break as you spoke, like he was grieving for that version of you. More than that, he was angry with himself for not being persistent, for not being the person you needed at that point in your life.

“I noticed Mel was different. The way she held herself… she was relaxed, carefree all of the time. She reminded me of home, and she felt like someone I could trust, or at least talk to without feeling stupid about it. I made a joke about our professor, and we just clicked. We did everything together after that—partnered for every project, went to parties, to run errands…” you trailed off, watching out the windshield as the city passed you by. “She felt like home, and I guess I missed it more than I thought I would. She reminded me of you.” You added the last part, quieter than the rest in fear of overwhelming him. You watched as a smile turned his lips, understanding that with Jake, you didn’t have to worry about a thing.

“I’m glad you found her. She seems very…” he trailed off, trying to find the right word. “Eccentric.” He placed it, figuring that was the best way to describe her.

“She is.” You laughed, nodding your head in agreement. “She’s different from anyone else I’ve ever met. She’s got this way about her that just draws me in, like she always balances me out and makes up for what I lack. We have lots in common where it matters, but it’s nice to have someone that challenges me. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” You shrugged, realizing you were rambling more than you should.

“I’m excited to get to know her better. If you love her so much, she must be pretty great.” He said, nonchalantly like his statement wasn’t dripping with hidden meaning.

He wanted to get to know her better because he wanted to stick around. He wanted to stay, to continue whatever the two of you were doing and rebuild a relationship between the two of you. He wanted to know her, because she was the closest thing to you.

He wanted you.

You didn’t have time to focus on the unspoken things for much longer, because he was pulling into the hidden parking lot of the restaurant you frequented so often when you were younger. He glanced over at you, then down at your hand intertwined with his, almost sorrowful that he had to let go.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” He said, unbuckling his seatbelt before he pulled his hand from your lap. You gave a slight nod, immediately noticing the warmth flee you as his fingers slipped away from your own. You didn’t have a chance to offer your company before he stepped out of the car, and he disappeared into the side door of the building before you realized it.

You looked down at your palm, still warm from where his own rested just seconds earlier. His cologne lingered in the air of the car, and your stomach was twisted with anxiety. You had no idea what he was planning, but you were excited to see where the night left you. It had been so long since you had been on a date, let alone with someone who so deeply affected you, and you had almost forgotten how to act.

No, you hadn’t forgotten how to act; you were just in your own head, doubting that the evening he had planned was a date at all.

That was your first course of action, to ask if the night had the same implications for him as it did for you. If you didn’t, you might end up on your front doorstep, grieving a loss he never knew he caused. You were terrified to ask, embarrassed at the idea of it not meaning the same to him, but you needed to know.

You spent your few minutes of alone time psyching yourself up for the big question, finding courage you didn’t know you had. By the time he stepped out of the building, the brown bag of takeout held tightly in his hands, you had enough strength to whisper the words aloud. When he placed the food in the backseat, you were repeating it in your head to keep the momentum. When he slid back in the driver's seat, his head turned to look at you and a sweet little smile on his lips, any amount of strength you conjured disappeared in an instant, leaving your tongue tied and your throat dry.

“What’s wrong, sunshine?” He asked, able to read you like a book even now. You swallowed hard, your heart threatening to burst out of your chest as you tried to remember how to phrase the words you wanted to ask him. He raised an eyebrow at your silence, still awaiting an answer you weren’t sure how to give. Eventually, you took a deep breath, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment to straighten your thoughts. You found that looking at him only made it harder to focus, and without his eyes burning holes into you, you were able to find the courage again.

“Is this… are we on a date?” You blurted out, heaving a small sigh of relief as the words finally passed through your lips. Anxiety continued to eat away at you as you opened your eyes, catching sight of his expression. His eyebrows were knitted together, but the smile on his lips remained. He was so hard to read, which only frustrated you further knowing that he knew how you were feeling all of the time.

“That depends… Do you want to be on a date?”

“Do you?” You asked, shifting in your seat as you averted your gaze away from his face. He laughed at your response, clearly amused by your distress and unbothered by the inquiry.

“I do, yes.” He nodded, knowing you would never confess unless he did, first. “But if you don’t, that’s okay too. We can just eat dinner and have a drink as friends.” His sweetness was overwhelming, and unbelievably reassuring. You let out a long breath, relieved at the sound of his words and happy he felt the same.

“Okay.” You grinned, reaching over and lacing your fingers through his again. As you pulled his hand back to rest in your lap, the anxiety disappeared indefinitely. “I would also like to be on a date.”

“Then it’s settled.” He hummed, leaning back in his seat and starting the car. You could tell that the agreement improved his mood greatly—the slight nervousness in his features settled and the smile on his lips was permanently visible. The momentary euphoria left him confident, and his fingers slipped from yours once more, settling on your thigh just below the hem of your dress. Your stomach twisted in a knot, this time not due to your anxieties, but from excitement. The touch was familiar, comforting, the hold the same as it was when you were seventeen and driving around in his dads old car. You placed your hand atop of his, showing your enthusiasm for the new position.

“Seems like it.” You agreed, fighting a smile begging to blossom on your own lips.

“Good thing, because I’d probably have a hard time keeping my hands off you.” He confessed, his grasp tightening ever so slightly as he reveled in the feeling of your skin on his again.

“Is that so?” You teased, encouraging his behavior in an attempt to hear more about it.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pulling out of the parking spot and back out onto the street. “You really think I could behave myself all night? This close to my favorite girl?” His words hit you hard, turning your cheeks crimson and sending your heart racing.

“Don’t flatter me, Jacob.” You spoke softly, downplaying his words but desperately hoping that he would continue.

“But it’s my favorite thing to do.” He reminded you, tracing small circles into your leg with his thumb. You settled comfortably in your seat, but not for long before the car was slowing to a stop again, pulling off into another overly familiar area. The dirt lot was barren, the two of you the only occupants of the large space. Jake pulled off to the side, earning a sideways glance from you.

“Jake…” you began, overwhelmed with years worth of love as the memories flooded your mind.

“What?” He grinned, turning in his seat to face you.

“This is the spot!” You exclaimed, not wanting to be the one to say it out loud.

“Hmm, I’m not sure I know what you’re referring to…” he trailed off, raising his free hand to his chin as he pretended to ponder the words. “I thought it was just a nice place to have dinner. What happened here, again?” You reached over, giving him a playful shove. He laughed, loud and booming, filling your heart with enough love you thought it might burst.

You used to dream of hearing him laugh like that, together at your spot. You yearned for it, for even just a single second spent here with him, and now you had it in your grasp.

“Don’t be a dick.” You giggled, knowing he was only joking for the sake of bothering you.

“You know I could never forget our spot, sweetheart.” He said, giving your thigh a reassuring squeeze. “Well, one of them, anyway.”

“But this was the spot.” You smiled, feeling yourself leaning into him without even realizing it. “This is where you asked me to be your girlfriend.”

“It is.” He nodded, fighting every urge to lean forward and kiss you right there. He was overtaken with emotion, as joyous as he was when he was fifteen and walking through the park with you for the first time. He picked a flower from the beds the city maintained, making a whole ordeal out of asking you the question he already knew the answer to. He could never forget it, because it was one of his most cherished moments, and now, almost a decade later, he got to relive that elation all over again. “Come with me, sunshine.”

Together, the two of you stepped outside into the warm evening air. The sun was still shining, setting a golden hue over the lush green grass and the overgrown trees. The park was different than it was when you were younger, more grown and less tended to than it used to be. When new parks opened, this one became forgotten in the mess of excitement that sprouted from the city's changes. To you, it could never be forgotten. You’d choose the rusted swing sets and the weathered park benches and picnic tables every day for the rest of your life because that was where you felt closest to him.

Jake retrieved the takeout from the backseat, then an additional grocery bag filled with items he had not shared with you yet. He joined you by your side, fighting off your attempts at grabbing something from his hands. Wordlessly, he led you to the narrow path through the trees, but he knew you did not need his guidance. Both of you could navigate the trails through the park blindfolded with your hands tied behind your back, because most of your nights were spent aimlessly wandering, hand in hand with each other.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to reach the opening to the park, the tiny trail tapering off into an overgrown field. The grass was overgrown, tickling your ankles as you advanced through it. Birds were chirping, making home in the tree branches and concealed by the leaves. Butterflies fluttered around the scene, carefree and avoidant of the two of you. Jake let you lead the way, staying close behind you as you gravitated towards the picnic table that called your name. You looked back over your shoulder, smiling at him as you closed in on it and realized it had never been replaced.

“Still there?” He asked as he approached, closing the small gap between you.

“Still there.” You nodded, looking down at the old wooden board. You tried to ignore the feeling of his body so close to yours, the warmth radiating from him as he stood behind you, and the scent of his cologne surrounding you even in the gentle breeze, but it was proving difficult the longer you stood together. You reached out, your fingers tracing the divots in the wood grain. From the years of weather and use, the carving almost seemed like it belonged, now. The rough edges had smoothed, and the color changed to match the rest.

Your initials, side by side and destined to tie the two of you there for eternity. He had carved it with an old pocket knife the night he asked you to be his girlfriend, informing you that so long as the picture remained, so would his love for you.

“Still true?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper, cracking with emotion as you doubted he would even remember the insignificance of the promise. His head turned down to you, his eyes scanning your face for a moment before he responded. The air between you was thick, just like the tension that accompanied it.

“Still true.” He assured you, like there was never a doubt in his mind about it. You turned your head to the side, swallowing hard at the confession and the close proximity of his face to yours. The wind was blowing his hair away from his face, his dark eyelashes tickling his cheeks as he looked down at you. You looked up at him through your own lashes, admiring the intricacies of his face that you could not notice from far away, intricacies that only you would care to look for. His nose was nearly brushing yours, his breath warm on your skin. He was so close, and you wanted it so bad, but you were scared to make the first move. “Always true.”

For a moment, the world stopped turning. No more butterflies, no more chirps from the birds, no more gusts of wind blowing you around; just the two of you there, together in perfect harmony, enjoying each other’s presence after being separated for so long.

“For me, too.” You whispered, needing him to know that the love was not one sided. Although you did not have the strength to speak the words, he knew what you meant, and that was all that mattered.

Instead of leaning forward and closing the gap between your mouths, he sat the bags atop the rickety wooden table. He didn’t move too far away, but he did send you a small smile, like a promise that something better was to come. You couldn’t help but feel a sinking disappointment as he moved away, but you pushed it aside and forced a smile to match his.

“Now, let’s see how well I remember.” He hummed, motioning for you to sit. You did as you were told, sliding onto the bench and smoothing your dress under your legs. You crossed your ankles, propping your chin up on your palm as you waited to see what he pulled together. “For dinner, shrimp lo mein and spring rolls.” He raised an eyebrow, tearing into the takeout bag and offering you the container.

“How the hell did you remember that?” You grinned, taking it from his hands and placing it in front of you. He gave a shrug of his shoulders, placing his own in front of him after he handed you the wooden chopsticks.

“You ordered it every time we went there, sunshine. Wasn’t like it was hard.” He chuckled. “And the chopsticks, because you insist on using them even though you suck at it.”

“I do not suck at it!” You argued, your cheeks burning red as he fought back a chuckle.

“Right,” he hummed, tossing you a disposable fork wrapped in plastic. “Just in case.” You rolled your eyes, but snatched it from the table anyway. You’d never admit it, but he was right. Even if your skills improved over the years, you were far from good at it.

“Care to keep going, or are you going to make fun of me all night?” You bit down on your lip to suppress the smile that was begging to show.

“Right, sorry.” He nodded, grinning over at you. He reached into the second bag, slowly pulling out a bottle that you couldn’t see the label on. As soon as he flashed it in your direction, your eyes widened and a blinding smile took hold.

“Strawberry wine.” You whispered, your gaze flickering to his face. “My favorite.”

He would never say, but it was his too, not because he liked drinking it, but because he could still remember the taste of it on your lips.

“Some things never change.” He offered you the bottle. You reached out, your eyes drifting over the label as you tried to suppress the growing feelings in your heart. “Figured you deserved a nice bottle, not the cheap shit we used to get.”

“Thank you, Jake.” You breathed, your chest aching from the surplus of love you felt for him.

“That’s not all.” He said as if it were some grandois display, reaching his hand back into the bag. When he withdrew his arm, he held two more items in his hand; a ziplock bag and a small, cardboard box wrapped in plastic.

“Oh my god.” You gasped, reaching out across the picnic table to snatch the bag from his hand. As if he knew it before you even moved, he withdrew his arm with a smirk on his face.

“Impatient, much?” He teased, holding it just out of reach.

“If that’s what I think it is, then I most definitely am.” You nodded, leaning forward and a little further. As you did so, your fingers grasped the corner of the plastic, but he tugged it away before you could steal it. You couldn’t help it, your old habits and comfortability had returned full force in his company. Your bottom lip formed a pout as you silently pleaded with him to hand over the item he was keeping away from you. As he watched your face, his expression was almost pained as he refrained from handing it over, but within a few seconds, he broke.

“God, you know that’s not fair!” He exclaimed, giving in and letting you grab the bag from his hand.

“I think it’s perfectly fine.” You snipped, a triumphant smile crossing your lips as you sat back in your seat. “I haven’t had your mom’s muffins since senior year, Jacob.” You continued, holding the bag close to you as if it were a prized possession.

“I know, that’s why I got her to make them.” He laughed, taking the loss and moving on from it as soon as he saw the elation on your face. You paused, momentarily forgetting your excitement as you digested his statement.

“You got her to make these just for me?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. He caught your eyes, his cheeks pink in the sunlight as he realized he exposed himself without a second thought.

“Y-yeah,” he nodded, clearing his throat as he tried to regain his confidence. “Yeah, I did. I knew they were your favorite, so I asked her.” He shrugged, trying to make it seem lesser than it truly was. “She didn’t mind. She’d do anything for you, sunshine.”

“Jake.” You whined, your eyes brimming with tears at the thought of him and his family still caring so much. You were overwhelmed with love, never having someone care so deeply and genuinely for you since the last time you saw him. As the evening carried on, it became abundantly clear that you had given up everything, and in that moment, you felt like you were mourning the loss all over again. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Come on, sweetheart.” He reached over, cupping your face in his palm as his thumb drifted over your cheek. “Don’t you know by now, I’d do anything to see you smile?” Your eyes fluttered closed, your head automatically leaning into his touch. You couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to have him not only once, but twice.

“You never had to try very hard to get a smile from me.” You said, turning your head towards his hand ever so slightly. As if it were a natural reaction, you placed a small kiss to the pad of his thumb, a silent thank you for everything he had done. His breath caught in his throat at the feeling of your lips on his skin, but he tried not to let it phase him too much.

As much as he wanted to kiss you, to show you how much he missed you, the time was not right. He had a plan, one that he was determined to follow through with, and he had to stick to it, even if you were making it incredibly difficult to do so.

“Since we’re taking a walk down memory lane, I figured this would tie it all together.” He changed the subject, reaching to the table and grabbing the last item he pulled from the bag. He flashed them in your direction, a sheepish smile on his face as you read the label.

“Newports.” You laughed, remembering the smell of the cheap smoke stuck to his clothes wherever he went. “Big rockstar like you can’t afford better?”

“I always said I’d never smoke another one of these,” he grinned, turning the pack around so he could take a look for himself. “I’m feeling a little nostalgic, I think.”

“Cheap cigarettes and strawberry wine. Our childhood in a nutshell.” You giggled, breaking apart the wooden chopsticks and flipping the top of your takeout container open. He took a seat across from you, doing the same as you did. “You were such a bad influence.”

“Oh, whatever.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You were the one with the fake ID, sunshine.”

“Yeah, because yours looked like shit.” You laughed, shaking your head at him. “Guy at the liquor store laughed in your face when you showed him that waste of money.”

“So cruel, and for what, sweetheart?” Jake grinned, clearly unbothered by your comment. He had missed the banter that flowed so easily between the two of you, the endless jokes and the constant laughter. He was most comfortable around you, never second guessing himself and always certain that you would support his crazy ideas. He didn’t realize how much he truly missed your company until he was around you again.

“Not cruel if it’s the truth, Jacob.” You defended yourself, taking a bite of the food he had so kindly bought for you. Your eyes fluttered closed at the taste, the nostalgia of the moment bringing you back to a better time, the best time of your life. “I can’t believe you pulled all of this off.”

“I would have done more, if I could have. Was a bit short notice, but I wanted to do something with you, even if it is a reused date idea.” He gave a soft smile, a bit regretful that he didn’t have time to plan for something more elaborate.

“Are you kidding, Jake? This is perfect.” You assured him. “My favorite food, my favorite wine, in my favorite place with my favorite person.” You listed off, sending him a playful grin. “I couldn’t have asked for more. It doesn’t matter what we do, Jake. I’m just happy I get to see you again after so long.”

“I’m so happy to see you too, sunshine. More than you’ll ever know.” He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “I thought about you every fuckin’ day. I couldn’t get you out of my head.” You averted your gaze to the table, overtaken with guilt at his confession. You held remorse for forcing yourself to forget, especially after discovering that he could not do the same thing. He spent every night awake, thinking of you and wondering where you ended up, and you did everything you could to rid yourself of his memory so the pain would stop. “You know that Sinéad O’Connor song? The one that used to play on the radio all the time?”

“You turned to 90’s pop to get over me?” You giggled, teasing him over the fact. Out of all the songs, that one was not what you were expecting him to be listening to. “You know that’s not even her song, right? Prince wrote it.”

“No, smartass. Listen to me.” He laughed, waiting to share his story without your unsolicited comments.

“Okay, okay, sorry.” You blushed, conceding and letting him speak his truth.

“I was in bed one night, and I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d listen to some music, and like always, it made me think of you. You were always trying to get me to listen to new things, and in senior year you went through this huge phase with grunge music.”

“God, don’t remind me.” You covered your face with your hand, slouching in your seat as embarrassment took hold. It was not because of the music, but rather because of your obnoxious behavior as you tried to get Jake to enjoy it as much as you did.

“Back then, I listened to it sometimes when I missed you, because it was some of the last songs we listened to together. I was listening to some of Chris Cornell’s solo stuff because he was your favorite artist at the time, and he did a cover of that song. Have you listened to it?”

“What?” You asked, surprised you never stumbled across it before. “Really?”

“Yeah, and it was really fuckin’ good.” Jake chuckled. “The minute he started singing, I swear all I could see was you. I listened to it on repeat—in the shower, eating dinner, all of the time, sunshine. Josh was so sick of it he forbade me from listening to it anymore. It felt like… when I closed my eyes, I could almost picture you there beside me, listening to it too.” He explained, his honesty equal to a punch in the gut. “When Chris Cornell died, I almost called, just to see if you were okay. Sat in my room for an hour, finger over that call button, but it had been so long and I was too scared.”

“He’s still my favorite, and I was not okay.” You forced a laugh, bargaining with the lump in your throat and the sting of tears in your eyes. “I wish you called—I should have called.” Your voice cracked as you spoke, the emotion too great to shove back down. “I never stopped caring, Jake. I tried to force myself to forget about us, about how much I cared for you. It took so long, but even when I did, after I wiped my memory clean and became a whole new person, it still felt like there was something missing. When I found all of that stuff, I knew why; you were missing, and nothing has felt right since that day.”

“Sunshine,” he warned, reaching across the table and swiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “Don’t be sad. I didn’t call, either. We were both stupid, and were making up for it now.”

“I’ll never stop being sorry, bug.” You reached up, holding his hand to your face as your chest ached. “Leaving you was the worst thing I’ve ever done.”

“Let’s be sad about that tomorrow.” He tried again, guilty that his words imposed such sadness on you. “Let’s have fun tonight, and have the hard conversations later. I miss you so much, and I want to enjoy every second I have with you.” He continued, silently begging you to look at him and see the sincerity in his eyes. “I’ll talk about whatever you want when the sun comes up tomorrow, but right now, I want to be with you, just like we used to be. Can you do that for me? For old times sake?” You swallowed back your tears, taking a deep breath to calm the raging sorrow in your heart, and looked up to meet his gaze. Like always, the brown of his irises sent a warmth washing over you, more comforting than the sun and more familiar than your own house.

Still, after six years, he was home to you.

“For old times sake.” You smiled, nodding in agreement.

“Good, because I have more plans for us.” He grinned, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “And I’m not telling you what it is, so don’t even bother.”

“That’s not fair.” You argued, watching as he returned to his normal position, taking a bite of his food. He kept you in suspense for a moment, neglecting a response as you waited for him to give in.

“It’s perfectly fair, sunshine.” He chuckled. “Now relax, eat your dinner and stop worrying about everything.”

“Do you know how hard that is for me? All I do is worry.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He laughed, reaching over and opening the bottle of wine for you. “That will never change.” He smiled, offering you the bottle with a raised eyebrow. You watched him for a moment, finally letting yourself feel all of the things you locked up for so long. It felt good to love him freely, without the burden of pain that came from leaving. Right now, you were with him, laughing with him, loving him after so long of punishing yourself for it. It was liberating, and you knew he was right; you had to stop wasting your time being sad and sorrowful over your past mistakes.

“Black by Pearl Jam.” You said, snatching the bottle from his hand with a playful smile stuck on your lips. No matter how bad it hurt, you couldn’t deny the joy you felt in his company.

“What?” He asked, watching as you placed the bottle to your lips and tilted your head back. The sweet taste filled your senses, better than you expected and much smoother than the ten dollar bottles you bought as kids. You took a hearty drink, lowering the bottle from your mouth as you swallowed it down, never breaking eye contact. The glisten of alcohol on your lips was prominent under the early summer sun, making him shift in his seat as he bargained with the thoughts racing through his head.

“That was my song. The one I listened to and thought of you.” He reached over and took the bottle from your hands, taking a drink while he thought about your words. When he sat it back on the table, a smile pulled at his lips.

“Like I said, Angel. We were both so stupid.”

Dinner went by quickly, and you found yourself mourning the fact it would be coming to an end as the sun began to set in the sky. You thought it would be difficult to do as Jake asked, that you would struggle to push your sadness aside and harness the love that he was trying to give you, but as time went on, it was easier than anything you’d ever done. Being with him again was better than you imagined it would be, and sometimes, you forgot there was ever a time you were apart at all. When the wine neared the end of the bottle, all thanks to you, your cheeks were warm and your eyes glossy with adoration for the boy sitting across from you. With the help of alcohol, you let your guard down completely, and you started forget why you had it up in the first place.

Jake was packing up the mess you made, sneaking glances at you as you watched him work. You had gotten loose with your tongue and the tension in your shoulders had fully subsided, leaving you more obvious with your admiration and even passing a few flirtatious words his way. You were far from drunk, but you did have enough wine in you that the prospect of loving Jake had become much less scary and much more inviting. You missed feeling this way, carefree and happy just to exist beside him, and you were doing exactly as you were told; enjoying him for the little time he could be with you.

“Ready to hit the next stop, sunshine?” He asked, finally clearing the table off and looking at you.

“Ready.” You nodded, a permanent smile anchored on your lips. “Where is that, exactly?”

“Surprise.” He smiled, clutching the bag of garbage in one hand as he offered his other to you. You reached out, sliding your fingers over his palm and interlocking them with his. You couldn’t ignore the jolt of electricity that ran through you, the power behind a simple touch that no other boy could seem to replicate.

“I hate surprises, bug.” You said, pulling yourself off the bench to stand beside him. He gave a low chuckle, squeezing your hand gently as he began to walk back in the direction the two of you came from.

“Just trust me, love.” He said, guiding you towards the trail through the trees. It was so easy for him to fall back into the same routine, and he barely had a second thought about it. Loving you was the easiest thing he’d ever done, and he was happy he had the chance to do it again.

When you made it back to the parking lot, he stopped by a garbage can on the edge of the lot placed by the city to reduce littering, depositing the bag of trash he took from the table. This time, as you walked to the car, he followed you to the passenger side. He opened the door for you, holding it so you could climb inside. Before you did, you dropped your hold on his hand, stepping towards him rather than the car. You extended your arms out, wrapping them around his torso and pulling him closer to you. The tipsiness aided your confidence, but your love for him was the biggest driving force.

Without a second thought, he returned the hug with enthusiasm, snaking one arm around your waist and placing one hand on the back of your head. Your cheek rested against his chest, his partially unbuttoned shirt allowing for your skin to connect with his in a long overdue reunion. You closed your eyes, letting his cologne surround you as you soaked in the intimacy. If you could, you would have stayed there forever, happy in his arms and never having to worry about anything else.

“I missed you, Jake. So much.” You mumbled, feeling his arm tighten around your waist.

“You have no idea, sunshine.” He whispered, his head turned down and his lips pressed to the top of your head. It was the truth; you had no idea how desperately he missed you, and he had no idea how badly you longed for him to hold you just like he was in that moment.

Reluctantly, you pulled away, the warmth of his skin still felt on your face despite the distance between you, but he didn’t let you move too far away. His hand on the back of your head moved to your cheek, cupping your face as you looked up at him. The sunset in the background casted an ethereal glow over his already beautiful face, making him all the more irresistible. You wanted to kiss him, to close the gap and taste him on your tongue. You wanted to savour the sweetness of having him so close, to show him how much he meant to you despite your previous actions saying otherwise. You wanted to apologize, to make amends for the stupidity your younger self engaged in and atone for the suffering you caused him. More than anything, you wanted him.

For a moment, you thought he was feeling the same. The look in his eye was familiar, you’d seen it a million times. The slight smile on his lips, his shallow breaths and shining eyes was all eerily reminiscent of a version of him you knew so well. Instead of following the yearning of his heart, he closed his eyes and pulled away from you, going back to holding the door open so you could climb inside as if the intimate display you found yourselves in never existed at all. You blinked hard, biting down on the inside of your lip as you felt a wave of disappointment wash over you. Instead of speaking on it, you turned and slid back into the passenger seat, swallowing hard as you straightened the skirt of your dress.

Did he not want to kiss you? He himself said it was a date, but every time you found an opportune moment to kiss, he turned away and shut it down. Was he afraid like you were, or was he having second thoughts about what he wanted?

You tried not to dwell, especially after he climbed in the car beside you, but it proved difficult to pry the thoughts out of your mind. When his hand snaked to your thigh, you only found yourself even more confused.

What game was he playing?

Jake’s POV

‘Just a little longer. It has to be perfect.’ You thought to yourself, trying to steady the shake of your hand as you gripped the steering wheel. You couldn’t deny the flash of sadness that crossed her face when you pulled away, and it was killing you the longer you replayed it in your head. You wanted to kiss her, more than you wanted anything in your entire life. She was it for you, everything you hoped for and everything you dreamed of, but you wanted your second first kiss to be better than the first kiss you shared all those years ago. You didn’t want your emotions to get in the way, to cloud the plans you made on your drive back to your hometown.

She deserved better than a spur of the moment kiss because you couldn’t contain yourself. She deserved everything, and you were determined to give it to her. The moment was right, and you knew that the minute it happened it would be perfect for you, but there was one thing missing, one last piece to the puzzle. You’d spent the entire day proving to her that you weren’t taking this second chance for granted, that all you were saying was true, and not just you talking out of your ass.

You remembered everything, from the smallest of details to the biggest memories shared with her. You remembered exactly how she looked in the morning, half asleep with a lazy smile across her lips as she twisted a lock of your hair around her finger. You remembered the sparkle of love in her eye on her mothers rooftop, scolding you for smoking as she sipped away at a bottle of cheap wine from the corner store. You remembered all of it, and you needed to show her that she still meant that much to you, that you spent six years ensuring her memory remained intact no matter how far away she was, and you were almost there.

The drive to the bar was nearly silent aside from the hum of the radio in the background. You knew she was overthinking the moment, that she was racking her brain to understand the mixed signals you gave her just moments before, but you knew you couldn’t settle that fear without exposing your entire plan. She was right, you were terrible at keeping secrets and horrible at surprises, but you so badly wanted it to remain that way until the moment it happened. You were thankful she expressed her desire to kiss you, and you hoped she still felt that way as the night carried on. You kept your hand on her thigh, a silent reassurance that you wanted her without having to speak it aloud. The touch seemed to calm her nerves but not settle her mind, but you could make due with that for now.

The old dive bar was familiar, not one you frequented but one that was very memorable to the both of you. As you pulled into the lot, the building the same as it was all those years ago, a different lifetime flashed before your eyes. One of the last weekend's you spent together, before she left for good, the two of you spent hours wandering the town and trying to make as many memories as you could before time would not allow for any more. You ended up here, hand in hand in the parking lot and willing to test your luck with your fake IDs one last time. Luckily for you, the establishment was so nonchalant that they never bothered to ask for your ID in the first place, and you spent the rest of your night tipsy from cheap liquor. You learned how to play pool, and as the crowd filtered out for the night, you slow danced to every song she played on the old jukebox in the corner.

As you parked, you looked over to her, wondering if she remembered it with the same clarity you did. As she turned to face you, the look in her eyes told you all you needed to know.

‘Make it to the jukebox, Jacob. You can do it.’

“I can’t believe you remembered all of this stuff, Jake.” She whispered, her eyes glimmering with another round of unshed tears. You wished you could stop forcing her into sadness, that you could be the reason for the smiles instead of the tears, but you understood that as fantastic as your day had been, it brought up plenty of unresolved feelings.

“There’s not a single thing I’ve ever been able to forget, sunshine.” You confessed, feeling the pull of gravity force you towards her again. Despite every single thing in your body screaming for you to give in, to lean over and kiss her right there, you forced yourself to stay still, forced yourself not to do the only thing you ever wanted to do. “Let’s head in.” You said, unbuckling your seatbelt and climbing out of the car. You wished you could stay, to stare at her and admire the softness of her face and the beauty of her as a whole, but the longer you sat, the harder it became to keep your distance. You walked to her side of the vehicle, opening the door for her and taking her hand as she climbed out. “I can finally get my rematch. Been waiting for six years.”

“I won fair and square, Jake.” She quipped, stepping onto the old wooden stairs as she approached the door. She remembered.

“Uh-huh,” you hummed, sarcasm dripping from your tone as you stepped forward to open the door for her. “You were distracting me the whole time. I think that’s cheating.”

“Please.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes as a playful smile spread across her face. She sent a lingering stare at you over her shoulder as she stepped inside, begging for you to challenge her. “Not my fault you couldn’t focus on the game.”

“Actually, sweetheart, it’s entirely your fault.” You laughed, letting the door swing shut behind you. “Can’t walk around like that all of the time and expect me not to stare.” Her cheeks turned pink, shielded by the curls falling effortlessly around her face to further her beauty. She seemed in better spirits, your lighthearted teasing helping her forget the moment at the park.

You didn’t care about pool, and you didn’t care about a rematch; all of those years ago, you threw the game so she could win, just so you could see her smile. You took all of the teasing with a grain of salt and made a pact with yourself that she would never find out the truth behind her victory. Happiness looked too good on her, and you would be damned if you ever took that away.

“Drink?” You asked, slipping your arm around her waist as her eyes scanned the crowded pool table. Her head turned, her eyes connecting with yours as her face hovered inches away from your own. You noticed her eyes flicker to your lips, silently pleading with you to take the initiative.

“Sure.” She nodded, the scent of her perfume nearly making you fall to your knees. It was so familiar, something you hadn’t experienced in a long time. Now that it was in front of your face, you couldn’t believe you lived so long without it. “Manhattan, please.” She flashed you a breathtaking smile before giving your bicep a slight squeeze. “I’m gonna grab that table in the corner.” She pointed to the booth nearest to the pool table, just a few feet away from the jukebox that you were itching to get to.

“Okay, I’ll meet you over there.” You assured her, watching as she walked away from you. There was a slight sway in her step sending you weak in the knees, but you managed to push the thoughts away and turn to the bar.

You took a few strides towards the bartender, posted in the middle and awaiting your company. You sent an occasional glance over your shoulder, never able to rid yourself of the protective nature you felt when it came to her. As you saw her sitting, content as she waited for you, you turned to order. The bartender was gruff, but still friendly. He quickly fixed your drinks and started you a tab, sending you on your way within a few minutes.

Both drinks in hand, you walked over to join her, carefully placing the martini glass in front of her. You slid in the booth on the opposite side, taking a small sip from your own drink to calm your racing mind.

“Thank you, bug.” The nickname rolled off her tongue so easily, igniting a flame in your heart you believed to be long burnt out. She was going to be the death of you, and you knew that much for certain.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” You flashed her a smile, hoping she couldn’t pick up on your anxious eyes.

“So how long are you home for?” She asked, grabbing the pick holding the cherries from her drink. Her eyes flickered to meet yours as she pulled one of them into her mouth, a dribble of the dark liquid falling down her chin as she did so. Your breath caught in your throat, your eyes trained to her lips in a moment of weakness she was painfully aware of.

“Uh, few days at least.” You shook yourself free from the desire that was pushing you closer and closer to insanity. “We might stay a little longer, depending on how busy we’ll be when we get back home.”

“Full itinerary for the trip?” She raised an eyebrow, raising the glass to her lips and taking a sip from it. Her eyes never left yours as she did so, clearly hinting at something she wasn’t ready to ask aloud yet.

“No, not really.” You smirked, leaning back in the booth as you raised your own drink to your mouth. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.” She shrugged, holding her drink close to her as her eyes trailed over you. “Is that a crime?”

“No.” You shook your head, knowing you would answer anything she asked of you. “Is there something else you’d rather ask me?” You raised an eyebrow wondering if you could pry the question from her, or if she would ask on her own time, no matter your response.

“Like what?” She played the game well, knowing you already knew what she was thinking.

“If we could do this again before I left?” You knew you hit the nail on the head when her cheeks flushed and her gaze fell to the table. “Second first date going so well you want a second, second date?” At that, a laugh fell from her lips, finding your question ridiculous but perfectly fitting for the two of you.

“You’re an idiot.” She giggled, but you felt her foot brush your own under the table. You reached for her hand, taking it in your own and letting your thumb drift over hers.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, lacing her fingers with yours. “I would like to go on a second date, Jake. Maybe something a little bit more tame, like a movie night at my house? Like old times?” A smile pulled at your lips, your stomach fluttering with nerves at the thought of being cuddled up in her bed again. “I can kick Mel out for the night.”

“She can stay, if she’s okay with being a third wheel.” You offered, not wanting to exclude her completely.

“Who knows? First time the tables have ever been turned like this.” She let the words slip without a second thought, her eyebrows raising in surprise at herself.

“What do you mean?” You pressed, intrigue getting the best of you.

“Nothin’,” she brushed you off, taking an abnormally long sip from her drink. You didn’t drop it though, still curious about what she meant as the bottom of the glass touched against the worn tabletop.

“Tell me, sunshine.” You pleaded, squeezing her hand to sway her decision. She let out a huff of annoyance, finding it just as hard to avoid your questions, and eventually deeming it best to answer.

“I mean, she’s never had to be a third wheel before.” She squeaked out, almost embarrassed by the thought. You couldn’t help but take note of how beautiful she looked, even in the dim light of the hazy bar. Her cheeks were rosy, a permanent smile on her lips, and her hair was falling down over her shoulders. There was a faint hint of lipgloss still clinging to her lips, and her eyes were sparkling with an overly familiar emotion. “I haven’t really… dated anyone since we broke up, I guess?” She phrased her words like a question, as if you would know the answer better than she did. “Is that stupid? No, it’s stupid. Forget I said that. I’ve dated so many people Jake, you wouldn’t even be able to believe it.” She said, shifting nervously in her seat as she awaited your answer.

“I didn’t either, sunshine.” You assured her, unable to express how relieved you were to hear her say it. “I couldn’t… I never wanted to call someone else my girlfriend, because I only ever wanted to be with you.” She let out a sigh of relief at your words, relaxing into her seat as she let the truth sink in.

“It never felt right.” She explained, toying with the pick holding her second cherry. “I tried, because after a few years I was lonely, but I just couldn’t find anyone else. They weren’t terrible… they just weren’t you. Nobody could ever come close to you.”

“Are you trying to get me to fall in love again, sunshine?” You asked, swirling the ice around in your drink before you took a sip. She was smiling as she finished off the last of hers, the alcohol taking a clear effect on her as she sat the empty glass back on the table. She grabbed the tip of the metal pick holding the cherry, extending her arm towards you and offering it to you.

“It would really be falling back in love if we never really fell out of it, right?” She asked, watching as you leaned forward and took the cherry between your teeth. You pulled it from the pick and into your mouth, settling back in your seat as the sweetness filled your senses.

“S’pose not, sweetheart.” You hummed, the newfound information igniting a fire in your heart. You glanced over your shoulder, quick enough that she didn’t notice at all, wondering how the hell you could sneak from the booth and enact the next step. “You want another drink?” You asked, eyeballing the empty glass in front of her.

“Yes please.” She hummed, her tongue trailing over her bottom lip. You swallowed hard at the sight, closing your eyes for a moment to rid yourself of the neediness beginning to grow at a rapid rate. There was something about her, so effortless and unintentional as she drove you to madness without ever realizing it. “I’m going to run to the bathroom. Meet you back here?”

“Sure thing, baby.” You clicked your tongue, thankful that she made it all the easier for you to do what you needed to do. You let her exit the booth first, shamelessly staring as she disappeared into the small crowd by the door.

When she was out of sight, you rushed over to the bar, grabbing two more drinks and bringing them back to the table. You sat them down, checking over your shoulder to ensure she hadn’t come back yet. When you deemed the coast clear, you took a step towards the Jukebox—or a poor, modern excuse for one, at that. You assumed the old one was broken beyond repair, so they were forced to replace it with the electronic screen. Although it was a little easier to navigate, it took the charm from it almost entirely. Still, you knew her well, and as much as she tried to believe she wasn’t a sentimental person, she was a sucker for an old memory. The night had only further proven that to you, and when she stepped back out to join you, you would finally confess the last little bit of truth you were keeping secret.

Having the song typed in and ready to play, you turned to wait for her, holding your breath for the entire time. To you, it seemed like an eternity, but in reality, it was barely a minute until she came back into view. Her red dress flowed gracefully around her, the long curls bouncing with every step, and a smile on her face that left you speechless every time she looked your way. She was perfect, an Angel sent to earth to make everyone else jealous of her, and you were the one lucky enough to call her yours, for a second time nonetheless. You reached backwards, barely able to pull your eyes away from her as you pressed the play button. As soon as you did, it felt like the world stopped turning, like you were frozen in time until she decided if your heart was worthy of her love, one last time.

TAGLIST: @anythingforjtk @highway-tuna @klarxtr @hollyco @thetroublegetssoloud71 @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @raceb14 @watchingover-hypegirl @starshine-gvf @do-it-jakey-baby @gretavansara @jakesbeloved @woyayaofdreams @jakeyt @kiszkas-canvas @gracev0609 @josh-iamyour-mama @musicspeaks @gretavangroupie @gretavanmoon

[opencommunion]

"On the 34th day at last you go on down to rediscover the suburbs and the villages of the south, and you see just how deceptive and lying the photographs have been. A picture can only convey the surface of things. There is no meaning to destruction without the experience of the sound of feet crunching on top of the rubble. There is no meaning to the rubble without the stench of gunpowder blending with the smells of decaying corpses, cement, and iron. And there is no meaning to the smell without the feeling that everything is sand, sand becoming more sand. Those who saw the images of Lebanese devastation on their TV screens, in the Arab world, and in the rest of the world, and then cried or cursed or swore or became upset—really they did not see anything at all. Believe me, my friends, you are living in the delusion that you have seen, but you have not seen. The eye alone does not see—despite the fact that the eye is the torch of the body, as the prophets proclaimed. Human beings see with all of their limbs, organs, and senses. With all of these we confront the unknown, and when the unknown comes to us we become part of it.

I saw, though, and I became part of this horizon covered in ruin. In the Dahiyeh, I saw people wandering about looking for their places. Even more difficult to endure than losing one’s home is losing the capacity to identify the road to one’s home. I saw people’s eyes darting from side to side, searching for a familiar place in the rubble. These were people who had lost any recognition of the features of the streets and the places they knew, people who were no longer able to determine where their home might have been, or even where the road to it might be.

It was a mix of terror and bewilderment. The place had simply abandoned the people, and it had become featureless. Without any signs or indications to go by, memory seemed about to disintegrate as well. At this moment I recalled Palestine. Harder to bear than the Israeli occupation and suffering eviction from one’s home has been the aggression against the place, and the modification of its features through demolition. The souls of the dead flee to their places and spread their shadows over the homes, their perfume mingling with the scent of flowers in the meadows. What would the souls of the dead say today, wandering amid the ruins? Do the Israelis over there in Palestine, or those who are right here, in Lebanon, know that they have been unable to win more than the curses of the dead?

But Palestine only comes to light in southern Lebanon: the ruin of the Lebanese Galilee is embraced by the ruin of the Palestinian Galilee. These are the slopes of the soul that lead you to God. In the south I discovered the fields of lemon trees that stretch from Saida to the horizon’s end, and I breathed the perfume of the orange blossom, the flower that is in its transformation like nothing so much as the silkworm. The silkworm fashions its silk before it becomes a moth. But here the white moth that spreads out on the branches of the trees transforms itself into a fruit, the fruit that gave its name to the 'orange' in European languages. And from the perfume of the naranj we come to the boisterous guffaw of history that you hear reverberating in the Beaufort crusader castle. Today nothing remains of those franj crusaders apart from their fortress, which has become the practically invincible fortification of the resistance. Just as we wrote our graffiti on its walls in the seventies, so they write on them today. But the dogged irony of history does not appear quite so clearly here as it does in the destroyed villages beyond the fortress. In Bint Jbeil, Aita al Shaab, Siddiquine, and Aitaroun—there you see how closely the destruction and devastation coheres and binds with the will to resist and with the will to remain steadfast on one’s land. You can see how the trembling, shimmering pulverized dust hanging in the air becomes a voice that immerses itself in silence, and then produces it. There, the sloping hills stretch out and carry you to a horizon that seems to be embracing the souls of the dead, and you feel that you have been cast into an endlessly circular path."

Elias Khoury, "Meditations Upon Destruction" (2006)

[funnycreatortimetravel]

Small rant about Sans' character that no one is ever going to read and is probably kind of inaccurate, but I'm going to scream into the void nonetheless because why the hell not and I'm kind of bored.

I feel like the concept of Sans as a whole has been so utterly gutted by the fandom and not in the way you'd think. Not because of the AUs which are all so oddly Sans-focused (but at least we have Underverse which is actually pretty good) but in the sense of the people who claim to "actually understand Sans canonically" and "try to stay as canon as possible" while also equally missing the point sort of. Hence, why we have this long and overplayed image I'm sure everyone has seen a billion times:

If I could lay some groundwork down, Undertale came out in 2015, nearly a decade ago. The internet was a different time and place then and fandom creativity reached new peaks that no one had ever seen before, and as a result, a lot of Undertale was exaggerated, changed, cut up, and then put back together. Why? Because in all honesty, Undertale was a really simple game with a simple premise. Sure there were bits and pieces scattered throughout, parts like who Gaster was, who Chara was when they were alive, who Sans is in general; all the typical fandom theory shenanigans we've come to expect in the recent years. And in that excitement, Sans became the staple of Undertale pretty much, or at least everything it represented. This macabre, yet adorably misleading game with funny moments and interesting think pieces that people are still speculating about. That's pretty much the basis of Sans. So I get why Sans became the quintessential poster child for such a subversively ambitious game. I get why, then, people try to showcase Sans as this badass God character who knows and remembers all of resets and cries over Papyrus and is just an edge lord in general. It doesn't mean it's accurate in the slightest, but I get the idea of it nonetheless. In the absence of content, and there's a lot of it in Undertale, (I mean, it took me 4 hours to 100% it in the Pacifist and Neutral Routes, and 5 hours to beat Genocide, including the times it took me to beat Undyne because she thoroughly kicked my ass and Sans as well) the fans filled those gaps with what they saw fit and what they saw fit was so wide and diverse that the gap overflowed and the game pretty much became unrecognizable.

And I (except for the truly questionable and gross stuff, you know what I'm talking about) love the fandom for that, I truly do. Just the sheer number of comics, spin-off games, AUs, art, and fanfiction that answered every question I had and more was and is impressive, but even so, there's only so much that can be done with the context Undertale provides us before the content gets...stale. Hence my point on why Sans' character was so exaggerated is because Undertale as a whole had been exaggerated and oversaturated and overplayed and generally...not what the game or Sans was originally. But that was peak 2016-2019, though, a few years ago. And the interpretations and eras, like everything, have changed.

Now back to my actual point. It's now 2024. The fandom has noticeably slowed down. All of the AUs and theories and fanfictions that were popular have either been forgotten about over the years, randomly rediscovered or still ongoing, or just abandoned entirely. The game has been pretty much combed through until every file has been cracked, every document leaked, and every secret discovered. It's like a picked over turkey at this point and a lot of the old creators have indeed left behind the game in pursuit of newer things, which is understandable. It's not the center of attention it once was and in that wake, we don't really have a lot of the same pillars in the Undertale community that we used to. And in this transformed community, we have the left over children, now young adults and teenagers, to pick up the pieces. And in that, Sans' character, as well as Undertale itself, has again, been reformed.

That was a lot of words. But I hope I at least set the center stage. My issue, pretty much, is that the leftover fans deem themselves as "above the cringe" the old fandom left behind, which, is fair enough. And in doing so, a lot of the foundation of the 2016-2019 Undertale fandom was kind of overwritten. No, now Sans is no longer this edgy, overpowered God figure ready to right the wrongs of the player, no, now he's this apathetic guy who doesn't care about anyone, including himself, and is only powerful because he cheated. And to be fair, I see some merit in this interpretation. Sans is in fact, a pretty morally ambiguous guy. He doesn't even attempt to stop the player during the genocide route until there's nothing left. He threatens the player on the pacifist route even when we pose no threat. He makes so many allusions about himself not caring about anything. So I get it. Everyone is tired of everything Sans-related. I was too at one point. But in trying to counteract this fanon interpretation of Sans, I feel like this new one is also semi-inaccurate. This new interpretation of Sans is meant to be seen as "mature" and "not cringe" when in fact, Undertale is and always will be sort of cringe. And that's OK! That's why I and others love the game so much, because it's not afraid of being anything other than what it is and what it claimed to be. It had a story in mind that it wanted to tell and it did so unabashedly. The need to separate Undertale and Sans itself from the cringe is so pointless and almost a little juvenile. And imo, even ruins the character of Sans himself.

Sans does care about Papyrus, so so so much. He reads him bedtime stories. He plays along with his illusions of grandeur. He calls out the player when he's killed, despite Sans having to remain objective as a judge. I feel like Sans not intervening in Papyrus' death isn't because he doesn't care, it's because his entire job is to act as a judge and in a position where he's mostly neutral. He knows the player has powers to redo and undo things, so thus, he gives us room to make those choices, for better or worse. He's like, the anti-toriel. He refuses to hold your hand. He tells YOU to make the right choice, and by you, I mean the player. And in that sense, I feel like that's not something a completely apathetic guy would do. Someone like that wouldn't even see the point of choices, of having an option. Someone like that wouldn't care about getting out of bed in the morning, getting several jobs, or telling a person with higher power to just engage with your brother.

Like come on, don't say he doesn't put effort into anything, like he went out of his way to make sure Pap's Holiday party went perfect. He's constantly going above and beyond for his brother.

Sans has emotions and they're so complex and so well-written, but I feel like this counter-cringe culture of the fandom wants him to be this guy who's either too depressed or too lazy to engage with others, or someone who would simply shrug off the death of loved ones when we have proof that Sans does indeed try hard for Papyrus in the ending where everyone dies but his brother. It's an "oh shit" sort of moment when he realizes that Papyrus is the only person he has left and thus, he puts in the effort to be better for him. It's not that he doesn't care or see the point, he's just kind of numb at this point. If Papyrus dies in the neutral routes, you don't see Sans again until the judgment hall and he'll call you a dirty brother killer and tell you to go to hell. That's something someone who at least cares a little would do. He's not above insulting the player and he's not above getting pissed. I've never really seen him as a, "well that's that then," character when it comes to Papyrus dying, for me, it's always been, "I'm angry, but I can maintain my composure and still do what I have to do."

Even in the genocide routes, Sans wants to give up and do nothing. He wants to let himself die without much thought. But he knows that he has to stand between you and oblivion. It's another, "Oh shit" moment, but in the opposite way. He knows he's gonna die. But he still has hope. Not necessarily that you'll be a good person, but that you can try another way and make better choices. He embodies the same mentality Papyrus did at the beginning of the run, believing there's a better chance for another future where everyone can be happy.

Sans isn't a nihilist, not all the way. There's still a chance, still a part of him that has hope for everything, regardless of the route. And should the Pacifist route be completed, you'll see that he's genuinely happy. He DOES care, or at least he's beginning to know that caring about things is ok and healthy even.

Ex 1: If you go to Sans' lab after completing a True Pacifist Route, you get this bit of dialog:

Ex 2: Sans and Papyrus talking about a Christmas party they had on the Newsletter of the 5th Anniversary of Undertale.

The strongest, yet most complex example of this that we see is that he upholds his promise with Toriel and will continue to do so until the genocide route at the very end because he wants to at least give us, the player, a chance. And even if it was a cop-out for being lazy, I believe that Sans legitimately believes there's a chance for us to turn around and be a better person, or at the very least, make better choices. We know that Sans is a person who doesn't like making promises at all, and even though he said that his threatening to kill Frisk is a joke, had he not made that promise to Toriel, I can't 100% say that he still wouldn't intervened in the genocide and neutral routes.

And if you think about it, Sans upholding that promise just makes me question him even more. Like, even if you kill his brother, so long as you don't kill everyone, he won't kill you just because of that. He sticks to his promise and his morals so much, even if it costs him everything because well, what type of judge would he be if he didn't stick to his moral code?

"If you have some special power, don't you think it's your responsibility to do the right thing?"

And by that logic, if he made a promise with someone, don't you think he'd feel he'd have the responsibility to uphold it?

We also know that he makes an effort to give us updates on the Underground after we leave in the neutral routes because he still wants us to know, at least, the consequences of our actions, so it's not like he's just lazily letting us get away with anything with do (even if he does physically.) He still holds our actions above our heads. He still keeps his promise. He still knows that we can make a better outcome. And if that doesn't say anything about him, I don't know what does.

Even in the neutral route endings where things are objectively going terribly for the monsters with Frisk killing Asgore and taking the souls to leave the barrier, Sans still never gives up. Sans, of all people.

And sure, Sans isn't a saint, not by a long shot, but he does have some moral weight in the long run, and by playing the part of a judge, he has a certain level of disattachment that's necessary when it comes to doing his job. Nowadays, I don't see the "fanon" sans that everyone loves to rag on, the one that's overly emotional and jarringly out of character, more so, I see everyone ragging on that interpretation, and then coming up with an equally inaccurate interpretation of Sans just not giving a shit and letting Frisk get away with everything just because he's "not emotional and only wants to be lazy, blah, blah, blah, nihilism, existentialism, it's more canonically accurate, unlike that CRINGE FANON SANS!" /or being a total unserious prankster with no other personality traits, and that's equally as jarring for me.

So in conclusion, I feel like "Fanon" Sans, the one where he's breaking down and sobbing over Papyrus and holding his scarf is just as inaccurate as the "more canon one" where he's apathetic and simply just not caring about his death, or at the very best, says "it is what it is." Sans is a character whose emotions aren't apparent, but he still does care in his weird philosophical way. He loves Papyrus and genuinely thinks he's cool. He's a jokester character who loves a good laugh and being laid back. He doesn't like putting in effort, but he will if he has to. He wants the player to make good choices, so he generally tries to stay out of the way to give us that freedom. Not because he knows we're gonna kill Papyrus, but because he knows we have greater power and wants us to use it to do the morally right thing. He isn't above doing morally grey things either, like threatening to kill Frisk in case they pose a threat to monster kind, but I believe even then, his hesitation to just accept a human in the underground is somewhat understandable given the oppressive tension between humans and monsters. Additionally, he does put in effort when it comes to caring about monsters other than Papyrus, Toriel, and even Alphys and Asgore, he cares about them all: (it's implied that he feeds the amalgamates in Alphy's old lab as proven by the same dog food we see in the lab being in Sans' house and Alphys even calls him a good guy because he helps her in the aborted genocide route ending, him telling jokes to Toriel and genuinely trying to bring some joy in her life even though she's a stranger and doesn't have an obligation to, even staying with her in the Ruins after she's dethroned in the Queen Undyne ending, him acting as the judge before Asgore and even being in such an important position requires you to have a solid sense of morality and conviction, his respect for Undyne as a warrior/leader depending on the ending and in the Undertale Newsletter, he makes an effort to score a goal for his team in Hocky, and Undyne of all people seems proud of him, and pretty much everything that has to do with Papyrus he's at the very least involved or interested in.)

My words don't have a lot of merit. I'm simply saying how I interpret things. But as a big sister, I see Sans as a good big brother who's not too involved, but also deeply cares about his younger brother and his friends. I get that stoicism and being "logical" and "cold" is the new trend and whatnot with all these edits of badass characters and longing for a time when everything was less...emotional, but in doing that, it shuts a lot of discussion about Sans as a person and his complex emotions as a whole. I feel like it's too difficult and kind of silly to chalk him up as either one or the other. I feel like there's a nice middle ground between the "cringe" fanon sans and the "cool, apathetic" canon sans that a lot of fans either go one or the other on. Anyway, that's about it for my rant. It's kind of nonsensical and a little hard to follow, but I hope I was able to get my thoughts across nonetheless.

I guess it was a big rant after all. Oh well. It is what it is.

[cosmiiqueer]

replaying mcsm!

i havent touched this game in about 3 years and now im going back through it because i have terrible terrible brainrot

ep 1

-i still had the opening narration memorized oh my god

-THE OLD MINECRAFT TEXTURES DISTRACTED ME SO MUCH absdfkhsh i kept being like :0 old cobblestone texture! when i was supposed to be making choices

-the original oots are all so goofy

-REUBEN, ,, ,, gently holds. baby. protect baby at all costs.

-petra and lukas and their whole thing still make me so insane

-the animation has some really nice little details that i don't remember ever paying attention to before, like jesse's wooden sword breaking in half before poofing. it's a nice blend of minecraft logic and irl logic i think.

-also girl i KNOW you have the materials for a stone sword! you cannot convince me that wooden sword is your best option

-i played mcsm on a tablet in ye olde days, and even though i have played it on a computer before, im not fucking good at it !!! kept almost missing or fully missing arrows and embarrassing myself lmao

-i forgot how unnecessarily STACKED the va cast is like. matt mercer how did you get here

-i love ivor i love ivor so much he is so dramatic

-"ashley johnson sounds like she's trying really hard to sound cool" -my partner. ohhhh he's right. she does.

-i don't actually ship jesstra (kind of over shipping in general) but jesse having a huge dumbass crush on petra is a headcanon i still enjoy. she's silly.

-yes i always play as fem jesse i simply cannot handle oswald's voice for long stretches of time

-I LOVE THE MUSIC SO MUCH, ,, I REALLY MISSED IT. it's so GOOD. i love how many characters and things have their distinct themes, i love how it sounds similar to minecraft music, i'm just literally obsessed with it. ep 1 alone doesn't really have tracks that i go specifically insane over (thats more in s2) but boy does it have some iconic ones. like look me in the eyes and tell me ivor's theme isn't iconic. you can't.

-like i forgot how melancholic the order's temple track is?? that one gave me the most intense 'im still fourteen playing this game for the first time' feeling that i really wasn't expecting

-who in the ocelots had the legit redstone knowledge to make a working rainbow beacon. which one. i need to know.

-truly love the moment of lukas being like "if you're cool with petra, you're cool with us :D" while the other three are standing behind him, VISIBLY not cool with you. peak comedy.

-axel and olivia are the funniest bitches here. some of the jokes fall pretty flat but they definitely have the most lines that do make me laugh

-lukas and axel are such highschool mean girls to each other. calm down.

-heading to Boomtown because i literally don't remember a thing about it lmao

-i still love this game a lot. i stopped hyperfixating on it around 2019-2020, and replaying it back in 2021 didn't rekindle the intense interest i used to have in it. but god, i missed it a lot. i think it's really fun to rediscover something you used to love so much and i'm looking forward to continuing when i have time

[withloveastrid]

𐐪𐑂 Apollo: How we met and who He is to me 𐐪𐑂

{A bit of a backstory: When I was 12, I really enjoyed Greek mythology and the Percy Jackson series because it was taught in school and forbidden by my mother. But after the school year ended and restarted with new curriculum, Hellenism was lost to me.}

Apollo was the first God I met in 2020, when I rediscovered Hellenism. I met him on Tiktok through a few of his devotees and some witches who worked with him.

He was described as this artsy, cheerful gay man that I didn’t have to fear, but at first I didn’t want anything to do with Him. Not because he scared me but because I had just left Christianity and I wasn’t sure if hopping into another religion was right for me. But I started praying to him when I wanted clarity on if this is the path I should go down. He opened my heart and mind to Hellenism and soon after introduced me to Hades and Medusa who would become my closest Gods.

Apollo, is the God who brought me to Hellenism or rather brought me back.

To me, he’s the son who’s strong enough to be a respected warrior but prefers spending his time in fields of wildflowers, collecting them for vases at home, while he sings and plays for the wild animals in the meadows on mountaintops. He’s the cousin that I can go to when I have artist’s block and we’ll listen to songs and make flower crowns until inspiration strikes. He’s a prince to me, royal and magnificent yet playful and youthful. He has a hint of childish immaturity that only comes out when his wisdom and advice isn’t required of him.

I still have my days where I don’t feel as close to him as I do with my other Gods, but overtime He’s become the chill cousin I can talk to about creative projects or when I’m feeling depressed and need a pick me up.

[queer-goddess-of-the-hunt]

I started to type this in the tags of my most recent poll (vote here) but I have far too much to say about my journey as a fan of Dan and Phil, especially after seeing TIT last night. (don't worry, this post is spoiler free)

I originally found them through Dan. I don't remember which video it was exactly, I know it was before the Sunstroke video (oh god that was when I was 12). I ended up binging all of his videos and consequently found Phil. I didn't binge all of Phil's videos. I think I originally just watched all of the videos that had Dan in them, but I started to watch Phil's videos more regularly in 2014/2015.

I think I was drawn more to Dan because I saw him as edgier and I was the angsty kind of kid in middle school. There was a lot I could relate to in his videos. Now that I've grown a bit, I think I have accepted the more Phil-like aspects of myself and he is honestly my favorite of the two now, although it is very close.

I was here when their gaming channel first started. I still own TABINOF and DAPGO. I think I stopped really watching them when the hiatus started. I might have watched a Phil video here or there, especially if Dan appeared in it, but I really fell off.

Then the gaming channel came back and it sparked my love of them again. Their joint content truly is what I loved and love most, but I'm also finding myself enjoying them individually as well? I'm starting to actually catch up on all the content I missed and binging all of the content I haven't watched in a while. I completely missed most of Dystopia Daily when Dan did that series during his tour. I have no idea how many Phil videos I have missed.

It just feels amazing that I managed to rediscover them and realize that I still really love all of their videos, even after around 10 years of being a fan. I feel so lucky that I was able to go see them live this time around after missing out on that for so many years. It's a bit of a shame that I didn't get to properly meet them, but seeing them live was surreal enough. They truly did raise me along with the likes of Jacksepticeye, Markiplier, and Thomas Sanders. I feel really lucky to have been a fan of so many good and kind YouTubers growing up. I think they really made me who I am.

Thanks to everyone that is responding to the poll, I love reading all the tags <3

[queenshelby]

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 33: THE FAIR

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Pregnancy Loss, Infertility

Waking up in your old apartment, you stretch your arms above your head, feeling the crispness of the air as it slips through the slightly opened window. As you step closer, you gaze out at the familiar skyline – the roofs of neighbouring buildings peeking from between the branches of aged trees. Today is the day when you are going to see Cillian again, and by now, you have made up your mind. You wanted him back, regardless of what happened between you in the past.

There was no denying it. He had hurt you deeply, but you still could not forget how he made you feel when you were with him. His smile, his touch, his words – all these things were like a drug to you, making you crave more of him. It was not just about the passion between you two; there was something deeper, stronger even than the love you had for anyone else before. Maybe it was because you felt so understood by him. Or maybe it was because he saw parts of yourself that nobody else could.

You texted each other every day and had two dates since he contacted you one night after your performance at the Abbey. He was trying very hard to make amends, and deep down, you knew that giving him another chance might lead to heartbreak once again, but what scared you more was the thought of never experiencing that connection ever again.

So, today, you decided that you would give in. You would give it another shot. Today, you would meet Cillian for another date, hoping you could rediscover the spark that had once ignited between you.

"Are you sure about this?" Emma asked as she sat beside you, trying to understand your decision better. You had been thinking about it for days and finally told her what you came up with.

"You know what he did to you. Why take such a risk?" she wanted to know, cautioning you about what may happen.

"I do know," you replied, your voice softening as memories of past betrayals resurfaced. "But I also know that sometimes people make mistakes. I, myself, made plenty. He has been trying very hard lately, and, God, I miss him, Emma." you explained, your heart heavy.

Emma sighed, shaking her head gently. "Y/N, if he truly cared for you, why did he break up with you over something as trivial as age?" she warned you. "Despite, do you think that he will ever get over the age difference between you? What if you decide that you want children one day, and he does not? What is if you want something else that he cannot give you?" Emma then pointed out, and your heart ached to hear those words, but you remained steadfast.

"Cillian isn't perfect, and neither am I. We both fucked up. He may not get over the age difference between us and maybe it will cause issues later down the track, but I am still young, and I will regret not giving it a try," you admitted.

Emma hesitated, her brow furrowing. She knew you well enough to recognise your resolve.  "Alright," she finally said, sighing heavily. "If you really think this is the right choice, then I won't stop you. Just promise me that you will be careful, okay?"

You nodded solemnly, reaching out to grasp her hand. "I will," you swore. "And thank you for understanding, Emma. I would not have gotten this far without your support," you smiled, a little relieved that you could move forward. "Of course, sweetie, any time.

We have been through some shit together, and this is nothing compared to what we had to endure back in the US," Emma told you before giving you a firm hug.

"So then, provided that all goes well at the fair this evening, should I assume that you are not coming back home tonight?" Emma smirked, knowing very well that if you had your way, you would probably stay at Cillian's apartment and engage in passionate make-up sessions.

"We shall see," you teased playfully, your cheeks reddening slightly. "I should probably get ready," you told Emma before asking to borrow one of her jumpers. Emma chuckled in response, shaking her head fondly. 

"Sure, you can borrow it; just make sure you take it off before you engage in something inappropriate," Emma laughed lightheartedly.

Her comment made you roll your eyes, a small grin spreading across your face.

"Don't worry, Em, I am certain that if something was to happen, the clothes would come off first," you joked, and she laughed along.

"Good!" she responded before you both began to prepare for the day ahead, seeing that, before meeting Cillian, you had rehearsals at the studio starting at ten o'clock. 

Later that evening…

The evening of your third date with Cillian had finally arrived and you were eagerly looking forward to spending the evening at the Dublin Fair. Your friend Emma had told you about this festivity many times before and how magical and colourful it was and she sure was not wrong. 

As soon as you reached the entrance of the fairgrounds, you could not help but feel amazed by the sight that greeted you. The air was filled with excitement, the scent of popcorn, and the sounds of children playing in the nearby attraction.

Cillian was already waiting for you by the entrance gate. His charming smile made it impossible for you not to notice him, even amidst the crowd.

He wore his usual casual attire, a dark grey t-shirt and black jeans, worn-out leather boots and purple socks sticking out above them, complementing his striking looks perfectly.

He approached you with a warm embrace, followed by an affectionate kiss on your cheek.

"Hey," he said, his deep voice resonating with warmth. "Ready to have some fun?" he asked like an excited little boy, and you nodded, a wide grin spreading across your face as you linked arms with him.

"Absolutely, but first tell me, how is your new feline companion?" you asked as, together, you walked along the winding pathway that led towards the centre of the fairgrounds. 

"He is doing well, and Nina loves him," Cillian told you before pulling out his phone and showing you some photos of Nuggets.

"Look at this one!" he exclaimed, pointing at a picture where Nuggets was lying down, wearing a pair of sunglasses, looking quite adorable. Your face broke into a grin, and you both shared a light-hearted laugh.

"Oh my god, you did not..." you laughed, and Cillian confirmed that Nina took the photo, not him. 

As you continued strolling down the narrow pathways, the lively melodies from live bands began to fill the air, drawing you closer to the stage.

Each step you took brought forth more laughter, music, and cheer. Soon enough, you found yourself standing under the colourful tents, surrounded by the aroma of hotdogs and popcorn, with the sweet laughter of children echoing all around. It was hard to resist not stopping at every stand to taste the delightful culinary delights.

Your steps led you further into the heart of the fair, where the most vibrant and animated games stood.

The crowd seemed rowdier here, and the atmosphere was electrifying. As if sensing your excitement, Cillian pulled you closer to him, his hand firmly grasping yours.

"Come on, show me what you got," he suggested with a gleam before pointing to the balloon dart game in the corner, which you knew was a waste of money but fun nonetheless.

You agreed wholeheartedly, feeling a surge of adrenaline at the thought of attempting these games with Cillian. 

"Should we have a competition against each other? Whoever wins the most out of three games gets to pick the first ride?" you asked, playfully challenging him.

"Deal." Cillian agreed without hesitation, flashing you a mischievous grin. "Let's see who is better at throwing darts, me or you. I mean, clearly, I have at least twenty years more experience," Cillian told you with a smug smile on his face.

With a competitive spirit sparkling in your eyes, you both stepped up to the game, getting ready to aim at the colourful balloons hung above. The crowd gathered around, watching intently, adding to the electrifying atmosphere.

The game master gave you both three darts each, explaining the rules clearly to avoid any confusion.

Once he had stepped aside, Cillian positioned himself strategically, taking his time to aim and throw. His intense focus on the target was evident, and he seemed determined to win.

As you watched him, you couldn't help but admire his concentration and skill. His face contorted, and you adored how his freckled nose moved when he tried to put his mind to something like this.

You felt the heat rise within you, not just because of the competitiveness of the situation but also due to the chemistry simmering between you two.

As you threw your first dart, your heart raced with anticipation. With a mixture of precision and luck, you managed to hit a small balloon near the top, causing it to wobble precariously. 

This only fuelled your determination even more. In response, Cillian's face grew serious, focusing entirely on the task at hand. Taking deep breaths, he aimed at another balloon and released his dart swiftly. This time, he struck a bigger target, and the crowd applauded his success. You weren't fazed though, feeling confident in your abilities.

Carefully selecting your second dart, you concentrated all your energy on hitting the largest remaining balloon. As you took aim, your heart beat faster in anticipation.

With careful focus, you released your second dart, aiming straight for the biggest balloon left hanging. To your immense satisfaction, the sharp tip pierced the balloon, popping it instantly. A loud cheer erupted from the crowd surrounding you as you turned triumphantly towards Cillian, grinning proudly.

However, instead of displaying disappointment or frustration, Cillian merely clapped his hands together, acknowledging your victory. A subtle gleam of amusement danced in his eyes, and a faint flush appeared on his cheeks.

"So, about those twenty years of experience, huh?" you teased him as you both headed towards the next round of games. Cillian chuckled in response, his deep laugh filling your ears with pure pleasure. "Don't get too cocky now, young lady. I will still outplay you at many other things," he quipped, playfully bumping shoulders with you.

"We'll see about that," you retorted, nudging him back, your eyes twinkling with mischief before dragging Cillian to two more games, spending at least twenty minutes in this area before, finally, walking away with a plushie.

"So, what ride will you choose?" Cillian then asked since you had won all three games against him, and you suggested the rollercoaster as your first ride.

Cillian nodded in agreement, his eyes meeting yours intensely, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

Your walk to the rollercoaster line was filled with undeniable electricity as if the atmosphere around you mirrored the fire burning within you. 

Unsurprisingly though, as you waited in line, some women recognized him, whispering among themselves and giggling. Although he received a few glances from them, Cillian remained focused on you, completely ignoring their attention.

"I think you sparked their interests," you whispered to him softly, a slight hint of amusement lacing your words.

Cillian chuckled slightly. "I've noticed, but it doesn't bother me. Does it bother you?" Cillian asked, seeing that you were eager to keep your dates casual and out of the tabloids. 

You smiled and shook your head in understanding, appreciating his care for your privacy. "No, it's fine," you reassured him just as you reached the front of the line.

"Ready?" you asked as the anticipation of riding the rollercoaster together heightened your excitement.

"As ready as I can be," Cillian confirmed with a wink, sending a shiver down your spine before; finally, the attendant guided you towards the cosy car that would take you on a thrilling adventure. The sky was clear, casting a soft blue hue over the entire fairgrounds, making it seem even more magical than before. 

As you climbed into the seat, your fingers brushed against Cillian's, and you both shared a secret smile. An indescribable electricity coursed through your veins, heightening your awareness of each other's presence. 

The anticipation was palpable, building with each passing moment. And then, with a sudden jolt, the rollercoaster began its journey, soaring high above the fairgrounds, revealing breathtaking views of Dublin in all its glory.

"Look at this," Cillian exclaimed, gesturing towards the sprawling city below. "Isn't it incredible?" you asked, your eyes gleaming excitedly. 

As you looked out onto the vast landscape, the adrenaline in your system combined with the closeness of Cillian, creating an intoxicating mix. It was not long before you found yourself lost in his deep gaze, unable to look away. Your heart raced, and you could feel the heat between you escalating until, suddenly, the car rode down the deep descent.

This unexpected turn caused you both to clutch onto each other instinctively, your fingers intertwining tightly. Cillian's touch sent a wave of desire coursing through your body, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

"Fuck," you screamed and laughed all at the same time, enjoying the thrill of the rollercoaster ride mixing with the excitement of Cillian's touch.

"That was amazing!" Cillian agreed, his face flushed with excitement. He gripped your hand tightly as if he never wanted to let go.

"Absolutely insane!" you declared as you both leaned forward to inspect the view of the city unfolding beneath you on the second round before making a surprising admission. 

"You know, I have never been on a rollercoaster before," you told Cillian before the car dropped down the metal pathway for a second time. You closed your eyes, feeling the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins, and then, it was over, and Cillian queried about your statement.

"You have never been on a rollercoaster before? Why?" he asked, letting go of your hand, his fingers lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary.

"Well, in the US, my foster parents did not take me to places like this. In fact, they did not take me anywhere. They used all the money the system gave them to buy alcohol and cigarettes," you explained heavyheartedly. "Besides, they usually cost a fortune anyway," you told him, causing Cillian to turn towards you in pause. His expression grew solemn as he took in your words.

A frown formed on his brow. "I'm sorry. That must have been hard," he expressed genuine sympathy, and you could sense, once again, that he understood the pain you must have gone through.

Feeling your own emotion stirring within you, you reached for his hand and squeezed it lightly, trying to convey gratitude for his kindness. "It's okay, Cillian. Life has its ups and downs, right?" you tried to lighten the mood with a playful smile. "Anyway, we are here to have fun! Let's enjoy the rest of our night."

"Yes, absolutely," Cillian agreed wholeheartedly, returning your smile with one of his own. "Come on, let's find something else," he suggested before asking you whether there was something else you had not done before. 

"I haven't been on a Ferris wheel before," you admitted, smiling at the idea of conquering yet another new experience.

"Perfect, then let's do it," Cillian replied, already moving towards the Ferris wheel entrance with you.

The Ferris wheel operator ushered you both onto a gondola, which slowly ascended, offering breathtaking panoramic views of the Dublin skyline and, in this moment, a wave of uncomfortableness began to overcome you. You did not like the Ferris wheel stalling. It was much larger than the rollercoaster and, surprisingly, made you anxious.

Cillian noticed this and offered you his supportive arm, wrapping it around your waist in a supportive manner. 

"It's going to be fine; there is nothing to worry about," he told you reassuringly. 

You placed your hand on his, giving him a grateful smile. Feeling calmer, you allowed yourself to enjoy the view while the Ferris wheel turned leisurely, allowing couples on adjacent gondolas to engage in conversation or intimate moments.

As the wheel stopped again briefly to let passengers on and off, your senses heightened, and you could not help but notice how close you two were. The sweet smell of Cillian's cologne mixed with the fresh Irish air swirled around you, creating an intoxicating atmosphere.

"Are you okay now?" he asked as his warm hands cupped your own, reassuring you.

You nodded gratefully again, feeling the anxiety dissipate. "Yes, thank you," you murmured, giving him a gentle smile.

"You're welcome," he replied with an equally gentle smile and as the Ferris wheel continued to rotate, you both took turns admiring the captivating view of Dublin's nightlife, illuminated by a myriad of twinkling lights.

Cillian's hand, which still held yours, felt comfortingly strong and protective, and you could not help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this enchanting world of twinkling lights and vibrant colours.

Soon enough, the Ferris wheel stopped, depositing you both onto solid ground. Your feet met the warm pavement, and a wave of euphoria washed over you, heightened by the surge of adrenaline from the Ferris wheel ride.

You both walked aimlessly, embracing the festive atmosphere around you, finding joy in simple pleasures such as the sound of laughter, the taste of sugar-covered treats, and the bright colours filling the fairgrounds.

"So, what is your favourite kind of fast food?" Cillian asked as you stopped at a booth filled with traditional Irish dishes.

"Oh, well, I love fish and chips," you replied smiling, remembering the delicious meal you shared with him earlier.

"Fish and chips, huh? What's your favourite part of it?" Cillian inquired, curious about your preferences. "It would definitely be the flaky, crisp batter on the fish dipped in vinegar," you confessed with a laugh, imagining the tangy taste dancing on your tongue.

"I guess that means that, for our next date, I should take you to the best place in town for fish and chips," Cillian said confidently, already planning another romantic evening together. His easy charm made you feel at ease as if he was always looking out for your happiness.

"Another date, huh?" you giggled in response, blushing slightly at the thought of another romantic evening together.

"Only if you want to," Cillian responded, his eyes sparkling affectionately. He knew just how to make you feel special, and the warmth radiating from his gaze left no doubt in your mind that he genuinely desired your happiness.

"That depends," you smiled, feeling a flutter in your heart at the prospect of sharing more precious moments with him.

"On what?" Cillian asked nervously, glancing at you for reassurance. He seemed apprehensive, worried that your past experiences might affect your willingness to give your relationship another chance. 

"On whether we would be going on this date as boyfriend and girlfriend," you told him confidently, giving him a soft smile. "Because if we aren't, then this would be just another night out among friends," you pointed out, requiring some clarity. 

"But I don't want that," Cillian whispered, his eyes shining with determination. "We have already spent hours talking about why we broke up, and I have realized that it was foolish of me to end things over something as trivial as age. I can't imagine life without you anymore, Y/N" Cillian told you and your heart skipped a beat at his earnest declaration.

"Tell me that you love me," you requested, needing to hear those three little words from him after months apart.

"I love you," Cillian confirmed, his voice filled with sincerity. He paused for a moment, looking deeply into your eyes, as if searching for confirmation of his feelings.

You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your body against his, revelling in the warmth of his embrace. The sweet scent of his cologne combined with the subtle fragrance of the nighttime fair created an almost intoxicating atmosphere.

"How much?" you teased playfully, pulling away from Cillian's embrace to examine the delectable options lined up before you. Cillian watched you closely, amused by your curiosity.

"An awful lot, Y/N,” Cillian confirmed. “Do you know how much you mean to me?" he then asked, taking your hand gently and leading you to a corner where no one could see you. His eyes burned with desire, reflecting his deep yearning for you.

"I want you to tell me, Cillian. Tell me exactly how much I mean to you," you demanded with an urgency that surprised even yourself. 

Cillian drew you closer, cradling your face tenderly between his palms. With a fierce intensity, he proclaimed, "I love you with all my heart, and you mean the world to me. I was an idiot, alright? I was afraid of my own feelings, but I am not anymore. I want you back and I want to make things right. Fuck the tabloids or what people might think about it. I no longer care. I just want you, alright?" Cillian declared, his eyes brimming with passion before he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours, a slow, tender kiss that sent waves of longing coursing through your veins. The connection between you both was undeniably powerful, drawing out a moan from deep within your core.

"Take me to your apartment," you eventually whispered as, even in the corner you had chosen, people saw you kissing and making out. "I want to be alone with you," you said breathlessly, running your fingers through his hair, loving the feel of his skin beneath your touch.

Cillian grinned, kissing you once more before turning to head toward the fair's exit point. 

"Are you sure you don't want to go on some more rights first?" Cillian asked, seeing that there was so much more to explore.

"I am sure Cillian. I much rather ride you," you joked playfully, causing Cillian to laugh. 

"I should have seen that line coming," he chuckled before replying, "Alright, let's head to my apartment,” he told you and, with the promise of hot, steamy nights ahead, you both exited the Dublin Fair, holding hands tightly amidst the crowd. 

The cool night air tickled your skin, sending shivers down your spine as you both ventured toward his residence. As the streets became quieter, your anticipation grew.

“I missed you, you know?” you said, as hand in hand, you wandered the streets, causing Cillian to stop and pull you aside.

“I missed you too,” Cillian told you, holding your hands tightly before planting another kiss on your lips.