#with no chance of rekindling/piecing it back together

[simonbrain]

simon fucks up every good thing he manages to sink his teeth into because that's just who he is. he's haunted by nightmares of the torture he endured, of being cooped up in that fucking casket and clawing his way out. he can never unsee the image of his family laying on the ground, unfairly brutalised. it all swirls in his mind until all he can do about it is work his body until he can't think, until he's panting for just one gulp of air, until his heart and lungs feel like they're about to burst and his vision goes dark.

it's only expected that whenever the universe decides to grant him something nice, he ruins it. grips onto it too tightly and shatters it in one go.

it isn't his fault he was dealt the worst fucking hand. it isn't his fault that all the goodness that flows towards him like a peaceful stream suddenly becomes tainted, blackened by his own blood-stained hands because he doesn't know how to not squeeze the life out of anything. it isn't his fault that he tries so hard to hold the pieces of what's left of his heart together, only to cut his hands in the process.

he made peace with the fact that he will die alone a long time ago because no one saved him before, and no one's going to save him now.

but then you come into his life. and for some reason, you won't leave him be. every time he tries to push you away, you shove him over to make room for yourself. every time he puts his walls up higher than before, you leap over them with ease, even blowing them over with just a breath. every time he stomps down on the little bit of hope growing inside of him, you handle the poor withered thing with gentle hands and replant the roots.

your attention, your genuine care for him, the way you smile so sweetly at him as if he's the only person that matters—

it all makes his heart twinge. he doesn't think he's felt something so intense, so overwhelming since seeing the unfortunate demise of his family, but you've reintroduced a feeling to him.

something soft. tender. loving.

it's like you're not giving him a chance to ruin this one good thing too. like you're rewriting his fate of always ending up alone and inserting yourself beside him so that he has someone to lean on. someone to share his pain with. someone to keep fighting for.

he hasn't cried in years, but he thinks your endless love and devotion are enough to make him weep oceans.

it's not until much later in your relationship, when he has you under one arm, snoring away softly, that he realises he hasn't had a single nightmare since he met you.

he no longer feels weighed down by his grief and pain. you absorbed all that he had to give you and returned the love tenfold, more than he ever thought he was worthy of. you mended the shards of his soul back together and intertwined it with your own. you rekindled the flame in him that he thought went out a long time ago. you took this broken man who had lost everything, and you put him back together. no matter how grimy your hands got, no matter how violently he bit and snapped at you, you took him in and showed him what he needed his entire life.

simon feels an ache in his heart when he looks down at you, but it doesn't pain him. he welcomes it with open arms and allows it to wash over him like the gentle glow of the sun.

he has never felt so, so warm.

[latenightreadingpdf]

Familiar Faces - Spencer Reid

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: Doctor Spencer Reid reunites with childhood friend Y/N, only to discover she's being stalked. As the BAU investigates, old feelings resurface between them.

The bright fluorescent lights of the FBI building cast a glow over the corridor. Doctor Spencer Reid adjusted his satchel on his shoulder, his mind racing with the details of the latest case file that had just landed on his desk. He was lost in thought when he bumped into someone, nearly dropping the stack of papers he was holding.

"I'm so sorry," a familiar voice said.

Spencer looked up, his eyes widening in disbelief. Standing in front of him was Y/N, his childhood friend from high school. Memories flooded back as he took in her familiar face, though older and more mature than he remembered.

"Y/N?" Spencer stammered, his voice laced with shock.

"Is that really you?" he continued, his eyes scanning her face for confirmation.

She smiled, her eyes shining with recognition and surprise. "Wow, Spencer Reid. I never thought I'd see you here in Quantico."

"It's been years," Spencer replied, a hint of a smile forming on his lips.

Before he could say anything more, Y/N stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. Spencer hesitated for a moment, his touch aversion making him uncomfortable, but he found himself wrapping his arms around her in return.

The team, who had been watching the interaction from a distance, exchanged confused glances. They had no idea that Spencer and Y/N knew each other.

"Is everything okay here?" Hotch, the BAU's unit chief, asked, stepping forward with a stern expression.

"Yeah, we're just... catching up," Spencer explained, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

As they pulled apart, Y/N's smile faded, her expression turning serious. "Spencer, someone's been following me. I think I'm being stalked."

Spencer's eyes widened in concern. "We'll handle it," he assured her, his voice firm.

The team gathered in the briefing room, reviewing the details of Y/N's case. The stalker had been sending her anonymous gifts and messages and had even been spotted near her home.

"We need to catch this guy before he escalates," Morgan said, his voice filled with determination.

"I agree," Hotch replied. "Reid, you'll stay with Y/N to ensure her safety."

Spencer nodded, his mind already racing with the details of the case. As he and Y/N left the BAU office, he couldn't help but feel nervous and flustered around her, his usual calm and composed demeanor faltering.

Over the next few days, Spencer and Y/N spent a lot of time together, trying to piece together clues about the stalker. Despite the seriousness of the situation, they found moments of comfort and familiarity in each other's company, reminiscing about their high school days and catching up on lost time.

One evening, as they were going over the case files in Y/N's house, Spencer found himself lost in thought, staring at Y/N's face as she concentrated on the documents spread out before them.

"Y/N, I..." Spencer started, his voice faltering.

She looked up, her eyes meeting his. "What is it, Spencer?"

"I just... I never thought I'd see you again, let alone like this," he admitted, his cheeks turning a shade of pink.

Y/N smiled, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his arm. "Life has a funny way of bringing people back together," she said softly.

As they continued to work on the case, Spencer realized that his feelings for Y/N had never truly faded; they had simply been buried beneath years of separation and missed opportunities. He found himself hoping that once the stalker was caught and the case was closed, they would have a chance to explore the connection that had unexpectedly rekindled between them.

The days turned into weeks, and with the combined efforts of the BAU and local law enforcement, the stalker was finally apprehended. As Spencer and Y/N said their goodbyes, both promising to keep in touch, he knew that this was just the beginning of their story.

Standing in the hallway of the Quantico FBI building, Spencer took Y/N's hand, pulling her into a gentle embrace. This time, there was no hesitation, no discomfort—just the undeniable realization that sometimes, life gives you a second chance to reconnect with the people who matter most.

And as they parted ways, both Spencer and Y/N knew that they were embarking on a new chapter of their lives—one filled with hope, promise, and the possibility of a love that had been a long time coming.

[ama0310]

Silver Springs (S.R)

Character: Spencer Reid

Requested: No

Type: Angst

Summary: A chance encounter during a murder investigation forces Spencer to confront his past when he comes face-to-face with Y/N, his ex-girlfriend and new victim, rekindling old feelings and tensions.

AN: It's basically Daisy Jones & the Six meets Criminal Minds type of vibe.

"Another day, another case."

Spencer Reid had grown accustomed to the relentless pace of his work with the BAU. Evil, it seemed, never took a day off.

This explained why he now found himself en route to interview the latest victim, accompanied by Morgan.

Four murders in two weeks, and the body count showed no signs of slowing. All signs pointed to a disturbing connection within the music industry. The first two victims were singers, their vocal cords savagely ripped out. The third, a guitarist, had his hands severed. The most recent victim, a band manager, had his eyes gouged out in a grotesque display of violence.

As they walked briskly down the bustling Nashville street, Morgan voiced his frustration. "I can't wrap my head around why each murder was so different. It's like we're dealing with a completely new MO each time."

Reid's brilliant mind was already piecing together the puzzle. "Actually, there's a twisted logic to it," he explained, his words tumbling out rapidly. "Each mutilation corresponds to the victim's role in the industry. Singers silenced, a guitarist robbed of his ability to play, and a manager blinded, unable to oversee his clients. The unsub is targeting what makes each victim valuable in their profession."

"Do we know who we're meeting?" Reid inquired, his curiosity piqued.

Morgan nodded, consulting the notes from their technical analyst, Penelope Garcia. "Her stage name is Y/S/N, twenty-six years old. She's the lead singer of a band called The Springs. The band's manager reported an attempted abduction last night. She fits our victim profile perfectly: female, location in Nashville, related to a band. This is our first witness, Reid. She could be our key to catching this guy."

As they entered the recording studio, a frazzled assistant greeted them. "Hi, I'm Cary, the manager's assistant. Thank you so much for coming! Jason has been a nervous wreck. Please, follow me."

Morgan took the lead, his FBI credentials at the ready. "I'm Agent Morgan, and this is Dr. Reid. We need to speak with Y/S/N as soon as possible."

Cary nodded, guiding them towards a red door. With each step, the muffled sound of music grew louder, and a hauntingly beautiful voice became clearer.

"The band is actually recording their latest song right now," Cary explained in a hushed tone. "You'll need to be quiet, but the manager will brief you further."

As they approached the studio, the lyrics washed over them:

Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me I know I could've loved you, but you would not let me

A chill ran up Reid's spine. Something about that voice tugged at his memory, but before he could place it, he collided with Morgan's back.

A man stood before them, his face etched with worry. "Thank you for coming. I'm Jason, the band's manager. I wanted to take her straight to the police station, but she insisted on—" His eyes widened in recognition. "Spencer?"

Reid froze, suddenly face-to-face with a ghost from his past. "Uh, hi?" he managed, his usual social awkwardness winning again. How does one greet their ex-girlfriend's best friend after years of silence?

Morgan, sensing the tension, stepped between them. "I'm Agent Morgan, and this is Dr. Reid. We're here to speak with Y/S/N."

Jason's eyes darted between the two agents, his expression hardening. "Actually, I'd prefer if he wasn't here," he said, gesturing to Reid. "No offense, but I don't think it's wise for either of you to cross paths again."

Morgan, though confused by the unexpected connection, maintained his professional demeanor. "With all due respect, Dr. Reid and I work as a team. We both need to speak with Y/S/N to conduct a thorough investigation."

As the two men argued, Reid's gaze drifted to the recording booth. Through the glass, he caught sight of the band, and his breath caught in his throat. There, at the microphone, stood a face he thought he'd never see again—a face that to this day still haunts his most amazing dreams. 

I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you Give me just a chance

The lyrics pierced through Spencer Reid's carefully constructed walls, flooding his mind with memories he'd long tried to suppress. He was transported back to a time when life held more than just case files and criminal profiles—a time when he had someone to come home to, when he felt truly free rather than trapped within the labyrinth of his own brilliant mind. A time when he and Y/N L/N couldn't imagine a life without each other.

You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you

Despite his best efforts, Spencer's heart threatened to burst from his chest, yearning to reunite with its other half. For that was what Y/N had been—his perfect complement. They had met when she was seventeen and he was nineteen, initially friends until, two years later, they could no longer deny the intensity of their feelings.

Their love had been a force of nature—intense, pure, raw, and undeniably real. Until life's cruel realities came knocking at their door.

Y/N was a free spirit, driven by her passion for music. She'd twirl until dizzy, her long hair a wild tangle, singing until her voice grew hoarse. Music moved her in a way nothing else could.

Meanwhile, Spencer was on the cusp of graduating from the FBI Academy, with whispers of a fast-track position in the prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Two paths diverging, leading to an impossible choice.

He did what he thought he had to do, breaking things off for both their sakes. He had run the probabilities, analyzed every scenario, and a happy outcome seemed frustratingly out of reach. They wanted different things, or so he had convinced himself.

That fateful night was seared into his memory. Y/N was about to leave for New York to meet with a record label—an opportunity that Jason, her best friend and now manager, had excitedly relayed during their date. Spencer saw the yearning in her eyes, the spark of a dream about to be realized. And so, he made the agonizing decision to end things.

Her tears, her desperate pleas, her hands clutching at him as he walked away—it all haunted him still.

Was I just a fool?

I'll follow you down 'till the sound of my voice will haunt you

Spencer watched, transfixed, as Y/N sang in the recording booth. She swayed to the rhythm, smiling at her bandmates, lost in the music. Everything about her still captivated him. Their relationship had been a bittersweet dream he never wanted to wake from.

Give me just a chance

You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loved you

He stood rooted to the spot, oblivious to Derek's hand on his shoulder or the sudden silence as the band stopped playing. Then, Y/N turned towards the glass, and their eyes met for the first time in years. The world seemed to stop spinning.

Her gaze flicked to Jason, her expression morphing into a glare as she mouthed, "What the fuck?" The spell broken, she grabbed her bag and bolted through the back door.

Everyone sprang into action. Jason was the first to follow, with Derek close behind. Spencer remained frozen until his partner turned him around.

"Look, I don't know what history you have here," Derek said, his voice laced with concern and confusion, "but we have a job to do. If you can't handle this, go wait in the car. If you can, let's move." He pressed the car keys into Spencer's hand before chasing after Jason.

Against his better judgment, Spencer followed. A selfish part of him needed to be near her, even if it meant causing more chaos.

As he approached, he heard Y/N's voice, sharp with anger and pain. "I don't give a fuck if he's the president of the goddamn country. I'm not speaking to him. So you can either throw them out or let me leave."

Spencer rounded the corner to see Y/N already in her car, engine running, poised to flee.

"Look, Miss," Derek began, his voice firm but empathetic, "we can't let you go. You're the only survivor of this serial killer. If you don't talk to us, more people will die. Is that something you can live with?"

Jason, his arm still through the car window, pleaded with his client. "Come on, Y/N. You and I both know they're here to help. Let's get this over with, and then we can get you out of state within hours. This is for your safety and the safety of others."

Y/N's gaze flickered between her manager, the new agent, and Spencer, who was approaching hesitantly. With a heavy sigh and her heart in her throat, she turned off the ignition and moved to open the door, forcing Jason to step back.

"Get me a whiskey and a glass of milk," she demanded, grabbing her purse and striding back into the building without a glance at the agents.

Jason turned to Derek, his expression grave. "I strongly advise against having him there," he said, nodding towards Spencer. "As you can see, it won't end well if he's present."

Derek, still loyal to his partner, bristled at the suggestion. "And I advise you not to tell an FBI agent how to do his job. We've got it from here." He turned to Spencer, concern evident in his eyes. "Is he right? Should I listen to him?"

"No. I'm fine," Spencer insisted, though his tense posture suggested otherwise.

"And what about her?" Derek pressed, before noticing Carly, the assistant, anxiously tapping her foot nearby.

"She's in room 24, waiting for you," Carly informed them, pointing towards a door. "Um... good luck!"

As they entered the room, they found Y/N and Jason in the midst of a heated discussion.

"Everything alright?" Derek intervened, causing Y/N to roll her eyes dramatically.

"Yup, everything's perfect!" Jason's forced cheerfulness was palpable. "You guys can have a seat. I'll be right outside." He looked at Y/N sternly. "Be good. And tell them everything, please."

"Yes, Dad," Y/N replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she took a sip of whiskey. Once Jason left, she glanced between Derek and Spencer. "Well, are you going to sit down, or are we having a stand-up interview?"

Derek motioned for Spencer to sit beside him, both agents studying the woman before them. Y/N held a cigarette in one hand and whiskey in the other, while a glass of milk sat on the side table—an odd combination that spoke volumes about her state of mind.

"I'm Agent Morgan, and I believe you know Dr. Reid," Derek began cautiously. "We just have a few questions about what happened to you yesterday."

Y/N took a long drag from her cigarette, exhaling slowly before tapping it on the ashtray. "And what exactly do you want to know, Agent?"

Spencer cleared his throat, drawing her attention. "Jason mentioned you survived a failed abduction. Can you walk us through what happened?"

Y/N tilted her head, her gaze fixed on Spencer with an intensity that made him shift uncomfortably. "We finished recording one of our songs yesterday, and the band wanted to go out for drinks. I was still hungover from the night before, so I decided to sit that one out." She took a gulp of whiskey, chasing it with milk in a bizarre ritual. "I stayed in the studio for a few hours, just writing. Around three a.m., I decided to head back to my hotel. I'd parked two blocks away, and as I approached, I noticed someone loitering near the parking lot entrance."

"Did you engage with him?" Derek interjected, earning an eye roll from Y/N.

"I'm not fucking stupid," she snapped. "I walked past as quickly as possible. He tried to talk to me, but I ignored him. Guess he didn't appreciate that, because the next thing I knew, he was behind me, trying to force a plastic bag over my head."

The room fell silent as the gravity of her words sank in. Spencer leaned forward, his analytical mind already piecing together the details. "Can you describe the attacker? Any distinguishing features, voice, or mannerisms?"

Y/N's eyes locked with Spencer's, a flicker of their shared past evident in her gaze before she quickly looked away. "He was tall, probably six feet or so. Muscular build. I didn't get a good look at his face, but his voice..." She paused, taking another drag of her cigarette. "His voice was deep, with a slight Southern drawl. Not local, though. Maybe Texas or Oklahoma."

Derek nodded, jotting down notes. "How did you manage to escape?"

They could see Y/N physically reliving the traumatic experience, her leg bouncing with increasing anxiety. The calm facade she had maintained began to crack under the weight of her memories.

"Hey, it's okay," Derek said softly, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Take your time."

For a moment, Y/N seemed to relax, but just as quickly, her emotional walls snapped back into place. She crushed out her cigarette and downed the rest of her whiskey in one swift motion.

"I'd heard about the murders before," she began, her voice steadier than her trembling hands. "Even before that, I always carried a pocket knife and pepper spray. Call it paranoia or just good sense in this industry." She paused, collecting her thoughts. "I managed to scratch his left arm before kicking him. When he loosened his grip, I turned and pepper-sprayed him. Then I just... ran. Got to my car and drove straight hotel. That's when I called Jason."

Derek leaned forward, his brow furrowed. "And you didn't think to call the police?"

Y/N's eyes flashed with anger. "I wanted to forget about it," she snapped. "I was planning to leave anyway. Sometimes denial feels safer than facing reality."

"Yet you still came in to record a song right after that?" Spencer's quiet question drew her attention, earning him a look that was equal parts resentment and something harder to define.

"I have a job," Y/N replied, her tone clipped as she turned back to Derek. "We have an album coming out soon, and we needed to finish recording. We love working in Nashville, so yes, I wanted to get it over with and then leave. Music... it's always been my escape."

Spencer cleared his throat, treading carefully. "Can you describe anything else about him? Any details you remember?"

Y/N's gaze softened almost imperceptibly as she looked at Spencer. "I think he was wearing a blue sweater, but I'm not certain." She paused, her brow furrowing in concentration. "What I do remember clearly is his smell. It was... odd. Like scented candles, the kind you'd find at Bath & Body Works. It was strangely out of place, but unmistakable."

Derek nodded, jotting down notes. "Alright, thank you for your time, Y/N. Here's our contact information if you remember anything else or need assistance." He stood, extending his hand, which Y/N shook briefly. As he walked to the door, he noticed Spencer hadn't moved. "Spencer?"

Spencer glanced between Derek and Y/N, who was now staring at him intently. "Give me a second," he said quietly. "I'll meet you at the car."

Derek hesitated, giving Spencer a questioning look. The younger agent's eyes pleaded for understanding, for a moment alone with the woman who had once meant everything to him. With a slight nod, Derek acquiesced and left the room.

As the door closed, the air grew thick with unspoken words and years of regret. Spencer and Y/N sat in tense silence, neither quite ready to bridge the chasm between them.

Finally, Spencer spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "Y/N, I... I'm sorry. For everything. I know it doesn't change anything, but I need you to know that."

Y/N's carefully constructed mask slipped, revealing a glimpse of the pain she'd been carrying for years. "Why now, Spencer? After all this time?"

"Because I never stopped caring," he admitted, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "And seeing you in danger..." He couldn't even finish that sentence. "Please, promise me you'll be careful. 

Y/N studied him for a long moment, conflict evident in her eyes so she does what she does best. Ignore it.  "Congratulations are in order, Mr. FBI," Y/N said sardonically, reaching for another cigarette. The acrid smell of tobacco filled the air, a scent that brought back a flood of memories for Spencer.

"Smoking causes about 90% of all lung cancer deaths," he recited, unable to stop himself. "More women die from lung cancer each year than from breast cancer." It was an old argument, one they'd had countless times before.

Y/N took a long, deliberate drag, exhaling slowly as if to challenge his statistics. "We're all meant to die one day, Spence," she said, her voice tinged with a familiar fatalism. "I always told you that."

Indeed, she had. It was her motto, her way of justifying living life to the fullest, consequences be damned.

"I thought you quit," Spencer said softly, his eyes fixed on the glowing ember of her cigarette. "When did you start again?"

"A few months after my twentieth birthday," she admitted, her gaze dropping to the floor. "The record label signed us, and suddenly we went from doing a few covers a week to churning out originals every month. Needed a stress reliever."

Spencer studied her, noting the way she avoided his eyes. There was more to the story, he was certain. "Y/N/N," he said gently, using the old nickname that once came so easily to his lips, "are you okay?"

Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing. "Why would you assume I'm not?"

"Well," Spencer began, slipping into his analytical mode, "you drank that whiskey rather quickly. Your eyes are bloodshot, and you're flushed—signs of prolonged alcohol consumption. The fact that you're willing to record and drive in this state suggests it's become a habit. And then there's the cigarette addiction. So, naturally, I'm concerned about your well-being."

Silence fell between them, heavy with unspoken words and years of separation. Y/N broke first, standing abruptly and grabbing her purse. "I've told you what you needed to know," she said, her voice brittle. "I have to leave. Hopefully, Jason's already arranged my flight out of here."

As she turned to go, Spencer's hand shot out, catching her wrist. The contact sent a jolt through both of them—a spark of electricity, familiar yet now terrifyingly foreign.

Y/N's eyes traveled from his hand to his face. "Let go, Spencer," she said, her voice low and dangerous.

He couldn't. Not yet. Not when he'd finally found her again, when there was so much to explain, so much unfinished between them. But he also knew that Derek would come bursting through the door at any moment.

With reluctance, he released her wrist and pulled out a post-it note and pen from his bag. Hastily scribbling his number, he held it out to her. "Take it. Please. If you need anything—and I mean anything—call me, okay?"

Skepticism clouded Y/N's features. Did he really expect her to take his number, to even consider calling him after everything?

Seeing her hesitation, Spencer pressed on. "Look, Y/N, I know you have every reason not to trust me, to want me out of your life. But please, give me a chance to prove that I'll be there for you. We'll catch the guy who attacked you, and if you need help with anything else, anything at all, come to me. Please."

Y/N stared into his pleading eyes. A part of her recognized his sincerity, but the wounded 20-year-old inside her still ached from old betrayals.

With a resigned eye roll, she snatched the note from his hand and left without a word, leaving Spencer rooted to the spot.

As she passed a trash can in the hallway, Y/N paused, the note burning a hole in her hand. For a moment, she hovered on the brink of tossing it away. But something—sentiment, curiosity, or perhaps a stubborn refusal to let go—made her slip it into the back pocket of her jeans instead.

You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you

The lyrics of her song echoed in Spencer's mind as he watched her go. And in that moment, he realized with startling clarity that he didn't want to get away. Not anymore. Not ever again.

As Y/N disappeared from view, Spencer was left alone with the lingering scent of her perfume and cigarette smoke, and the weight of years of regret. He knew that solving this case was now about more than just catching a killer—it was about second chances, redemption, and the possibility of healing old wounds.

With a deep breath, he steeled himself to face Derek and the investigation ahead, all while knowing that the most challenging case of his life might just be winning back the trust of the woman he'd never stopped loving.

Author's Note: I absolutely love Silver Springs. I belt it out all the time lol. I also was obsessed with Daisy Jones & The Six when it came out. Used to read a lot of those fanfics.

Also let me know if y'all want a part 2.

Thank for reading!

[stylesispunk]

"The not so invisible string" | part 3

not outbreak! Joel Miller x f! Reader

previous chapter | next chapter | series masterlist

summary: you and Joel were made right for each other in the wrong time. Now, thirteen years later your paths crossed when both of your daughters get in trouble at school. Would be the right time for you now?

word count:8k>

warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, fluff.

a/n: Hello! Well, it took me almost two weeks to write something, and it was hard because I had no inspiration, so this is probably my worst piece of writing. However, I hope you enjoy it, The next chapter will be better because I have inspo for that one. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌 You can always send asks or talk to me whenever you want. Again, sorry for the chapter, i promise the next one will be better 😭

masterlist

dividers by @/saradika

When's the exact point in life when you stop feeling excitement for what's to come? Growing up becomes a deadly fear creeping within your bones because there's no more dreams left for you, but you face the cruel reality of life becoming a cycle, a boring idea of waking up to survive the day instead of living it, when you face that the ideas you grew up with died with the years passing by.

But now, as you approached Joel’s place of work, the familiar rush of butterflies and excitement began to creep back in. You felt like a teenager before a first date with the person you like. Just as you were breaking down, Joel came back, pulling you into perspective.

You had recalled the three happiest days of your life: the first time you held Tara in your arms, the first kiss with Joel, and the day you met Joel. Even though the last happened at such a young age, you should have forgotten about them by now.

The car pulled into the parking lot of Joel's workplace, and you took a deep breath to steady your nerves.

Finally, you arrived at Joel's office. The door stood ajar, and you hesitated for a moment before knocking. The sound reverberated in the room, and Joel looked up from his desk, a warm smile breaking across his face.

It has been days since the first time you saw him again, and your heart was getting used to the idea of him surrounding you again.

"Hey," he said, rising from his chair. "I'm glad you came."

You offered a polite smile in return. "Well, you promised me a job or something.”

Joel gestured for you to take a seat. "Absolutely, I'm excited to discuss it with you."

Once you took a seat, he was speechless for a moment once again, his gaze fixed on you, on your hair, on your eyes, on your lips, and all over your face when he used to kiss you all over every time he wanted to, but he dismissed those thoughts away before you could notice he was looking at you that way.

"I've been thinking," Joel began, breaking the momentary silence, "about how we can make this work, about the job, about us working together."

You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“"I know it's not just a job," he admitted. "It's a sort of chance for the both of us to rekindle our friendship.”

Friendship—how bad he wanted to be the romance.

“So is this a trap?” you asked.

“A trap? No,” he answered. “You know, all this construction stuff is not your cup of tea, but I would really like for you to help me get things organized here.”

“Why?” Your eyebrows frowned.

Joel leaned back in his chair, a contemplative expression on his face. "Because it was you who used to organize my life before, and you’re the most organized person I know.”

Your eyebrows raised slightly at his unexpected compliment, and the nostalgia in his eyes was evident.

"Joel, we need to be clear about our boundaries here," you emphasized, steering the conversation back to the work matter before it led to other things. "I'm here for a job, not to rekindle old flames or revisit the past. We have responsibilities, and our daughters are involved. Let's keep it professional."

He nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I agree. Professional, it is. We're both adults, and I’m your boss now,” he smirked at the last sentence.

You chuckled at Joel's playful remark. "Fair enough, boss. Let's get down to the details, then. What exactly would my role be, and what are the expectations?"

Joel leaned forward, outlining the scope of the position and the responsibilities that needed your attention.

As you settled into the chair, Joel began outlining the job details, providing a comprehensive overview of the responsibilities involved. Your focus remained on the professional aspects of the conversation, but every now and then, a shared glance or a subtle reference to the past hinted at the layers of history between you.

Midway through the discussion, the door creaked open, and you turned to see Tommy entering the room.

"Am I interrupting something?" Tommy asked, glancing between Joel and you. His eyes widened, and a smile broke across his face as he recognized you.

"I can’t believe it!” he exclaimed, pleasantly surprised. "Wow, I didn't expect to see you here. It's been so many years!"

Joel stood up, wearing a grin. "Tommy, I introduce you to our new assistant.”

You extended a hand, but Tommy went straight up for a hug. "I’m really happy to see you again.”

“I say the same,” you replied with a smile, feeling a warmth in reconnecting with Tommy.

Tommy's eyes sparkled with nostalgia. "Well, it's great to have you back in the picture. Joel rarely brings people here, so you know what that means?” He paused a moment to look at you again. "Wow, you look just as beautiful as I remember.”

You exchanged a curious glance with Joel, knowing the implication behind Tommy's words.

Joel rolled his eyes, a bashful grin on his face. "Tommy, stop making it sound like a big deal."

"Hey, I'm just stating the facts," Tommy replied, winking at you. "Anyway, I'll leave you two to your business. Nice to see you again."

As Tommy exited the room, you turned back to Joel, the air carrying a subtle shift in dynamics.

As the conversation progressed, you found yourself immersed in work-related discussions, temporarily setting aside your shared history. The task at hand became the priority, and you delved into the details of the job, determined to establish clear professional boundaries in this unexpected turn of events in your life.

As the weeks passed by, Joel and you got used to your new routine; seeing each other added some excitement back to your life again, and you couldn’t help but feel nostalgia for what you once had been together, bringing back the memories of the past, while the fresh cultivated growth between you added a new purpose to your days.

And as if the present would want to get the memories of your history together as two strings connecting your lives, you came back from a meeting with some suppliers with a scraped knee.

As you limped back into the office, Joel noticed your discomfort and immediately became concerned. "What happened?" he asked, his brows furrowed with worry.

"Just a little accident during the meeting," you replied, trying to play it off. But Joel could see through the facade, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.

He still knew you so well.

“They didn’t hit me, by the way; I fell. Just to clarify” you smiled, as Joel reached for the first aid kit, no long after, he was kneeling beside you, carefully cleaning and applying a band-aid to your scraped knee. The touch of his hands brought back a flood of memories—the innocence of childhood and the way he used to caressed your skin as you grew up.

As he secured the band-aid in place, Joel couldn't help but smile. "Do you remember the first time I did this?" he said, his tone nostalgic.

You chuckled, nodding. "How could I forget? It seems like a lifetime ago."

Joel's gaze held a warmth that transcended time, and in that moment, the lines between past and present blurred. He placed his hand over your knee, and his touch made your skin burn at the contact, but not in an uncomfortable way, but as a warm sensation that only he was able to give.

"Joel,” you whispered.

Joel's touch lingered for a moment longer, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. There was a silent understanding between you, a connection that surpassed words.

"Sorry," he said, withdrawing his hand, a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. "I just wanted to make sure it's secure."

You nodded, feeling a strange mix of vulnerability and familiarity. "Thanks, Joel. For taking care of me.”

A smile played on his lips, and he stood up, disposing of the used bandage. "Anytime, Doe.”

Your hearts kept beating at the same sound and at the same rhythm, desperately finding a way to belong to each other again.

Two days later, in the evening, as you were getting dinner ready for Dwight and Tara, Dwight suggested inviting Joel and Sarah over for dinner since it seemed like you and his daughter seemed to enjoy their presence so much.

“What? Why?” you asked, being caught off guard by the suggestion of having Joel share the same table with your husband.

“Well, it seems like Tara is a good friend with his daughter. Plus, it would be good to know this so famous Joel.”

You couldn't deny the truth in Dwight's words, but the idea of having Joel and Sarah over for dinner still stirred up complex emotions. Not for Sarah, of course. But Joel meeting the man you had settled with seemed so out of touch.

"Why not?" Tara chimed in, trying to reassure you. "It'll be nice having them over."

After a moment of contemplation, you sighed. "Alright, let's do it. But keep it simple, okay?” You turned to Dwight and said, “Please, behave.”

Dwight nodded, giving you a reassuring smile. "Simple it is. It's just a friendly dinner, no strings attached."

You took a deep breath, considering the implications. "Alright, I'll call Joel. But let's keep it casual.”

You dialed Joel's number, and after a few rings, he answered. "Hey, Doe, what's up?"

You smiled at the nickname this time. Since having him back, you were getting so used to his presence that you almost loved that word slipping from his lips.

"Joel, we were thinking of having you and Sarah over for dinner. Just something simple," you explained, trying to keep the tone casual.

There was a brief pause before Joel responded, "Dinner sounds great. We'd love to. What time?"

Joel agreed to the time you offered. You felt painful anticipation and nervousness after hanging up the phone.

+

As soon as you heard a car pulling over in front of your house, your heart rate increased at the nervousness you felt for what could be happening as soon as Joel entered that door. You feared Dwight the most. He wasn’t a bad man, but he clearly was someone different from the person you had married; his recent behavior had been puzzling, almost as if he wanted to drive you away. The thought of potential humiliation loomed, and you couldn't shake off the unease in your mind.

“I’ll welcome our guests,” he said, standing on the couch. You nodded, trying to mask the worry on your face.

As Dwight greeted Joel and Sarah at the door, you took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself in the kitchen. The sounds of casual conversation and laughter echoed from the living room.

You walked there, approaching Joel, who was wearing a really tight smile, trying not to make you uncomfortable.

“Hi!” you exclaimed, trying to erase the shakiness from your bones.

"Hey," Joel replied, his smile mirroring yours, but there was an unease in his eyes that didn't go unnoticed.

Dwight led everyone to the living room, and as they settled in, you couldn't shake off the tension in the air. Tara and Sarah, however, seemed eager to catch up, leaving you and Joel with a shared glance, reflecting the tiny smile at seeing both of your daughters spending time together.

“So, uhm, babe, why don’t you serve dinner? Our guests must be starving already!”

Dwight's casual comment lingered in the air, and you nodded, forcing a smile as you made your way to the kitchen. Joel followed suit, excusing himself from the conversation in the living room.

Once in the kitchen, the atmosphere shifted. You began to cut some vegetables for the salad, the clatter of utensils masking the quiet tension in the room.

Joel, sensing the unease, spoke up, "Do you need help?"

You glanced at him, grateful for the lifeline. "Sure, if you can handle chopping some vegetables."

As you worked side by side, the silence between you spoke louder than words. The weight of unspoken history loomed, and each passing moment felt like a delicate dance on a tightrope.

Joel broke the silence, his voice hushed. "Are you okay?"

You offered a tight smile, avoiding eye contact. "I'm fine. I'm just trying to get through the evening."

He nodded, respecting the boundaries between the two of you. Ever since you two had rekindled your relationship and friendship, you had become more open to him, yet being in your house as the wife of another man was completely different. He felt tense, yet he wanted to be fine for you.

With the vegetables chopped and the dinner done, Joel and you walked around the kitchen as if nothing had ever changed between the two of you. The warmth of shared memories collided with the reality of the present once more.

It was Friday night, and you and Joel stood side by side at the kitchen counter, chopping vegetables and exchanging stories from the day. Joel’s fingers brushed against yours as you reached for spice—a simple touch that sent a shiver down your spine.

As you prepared the ingredients, Joel leaned in, whispering the steps of the recipe in your ear. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent a rush of heat through you. Cooking had never been more enjoyable now than when you were living together, sharing stolen kisses in the middle of a kitchen transformed into a space where time seemed to stand still.

How bad you wanted time to stand still yet.

As the final touches were put on the dinner plates, Joel hesitated, his voice once again breaking the silence. "I never imagined us in a situation like this."

You paused, glancing at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, me being in the kitchen with you in the house you live in with your daughter and husband.”

The weight of his words echoed the sentiments you both shared but didn't dare voice. "Well, things change,” you replied, your tone carrying the weight of time passing by.

With the dinner ready, you both carried the plates to the dining table. Everyone sat down, Tara and Sarah sat side by side, and Dwight, seemingly at ease, directed the conversation toward casual topics, creating an illusion of normalcy.

Joel sat across from you, his eyes occasionally meeting yours, looking for an answer.

“So, Joel,” Dwight began, "what do you do for a living?”

“Building contractor,” he replied, a little bit tense.

“Building contractor” Dwight recalled, “We’re calling you when something gets broken.”

Joel chuckled, a nervous smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, something like that. Fixing things is what I do." He mocked.

Dwight nodded approvingly, steering the conversation away from the unspoken tension. "Well, it's good to have someone handy around. You never know when a pipe might burst or a door might get jammed."

“He is a contractor, not your personal Plummer,” you intervened, a little bit tense with Dwight's careless attitude.

Joel looked at you appreciatively, and you could sense his relief at your intervention. Dwight chuckled, a casual dismissal in his tone. "Well, fixing things is fixing things, right? It's all in the same realm."

You sighed inwardly, realizing that Dwight's nonchalant approach was his way of diffusing the tension, but it didn't alleviate the unease in the air. Joel shifted uncomfortably, sensing the delicate nature of the conversation.

“Maybe he could fix that attitude of yours,” Dwight said, swiping his wine as he pointed out your attitude.

You raised an eyebrow at Dwight's comment, with surprise and hurt crossing your face. The tension in the room seemed to thicken, and Joel let out a forced chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Come on, Dwight," Joel said with a half-smile, "we're all just figuring things out here. There is no need for any fixing, just understanding."

Dwight leaned back in his chair, a playful glint in his eye. "Fair enough, fair enough. I can take a joke. But seriously, Joel, you're welcome here. Just promise you won't go stealing my wife without a warning.”

Joel's forced chuckle faded into an uncomfortable silence as Dwight's comment took an unexpected turn. The atmosphere in the room became more palpably strained, and you exchanged a quick glance with Joel, recognizing the need to address the comment delicately.

“Tara, can you and Sarah go upstairs, please?” you pleaded. She immediately understood and took her friend with her upstairs.

Once they were out of sight, you turned to Dwight. “Stop behaving like an idiot in front of others,” you warned.

Dwight's playful demeanor shifted as he met your stern gaze. The air in the room carried the weight of your warning, and for a moment, the unspoken tension became more palpable.

"I was just trying to lighten the mood," Dwight responded, attempting to downplay the situation.

"Well, then lighten the mood without making inappropriate jokes," you countered, your voice firm.

Joel, who had been quietly observing the exchange, nodded in agreement. "She's right. Let's try to keep things civil and avoid unnecessary complications."

Dwight sighed, realizing he had crossed a line. "Fine, fine. I'll tone it down. No more jokes.” He paused for a moment, not looking at you. “But I would like to know why my wife hides that you are actually her boyfriend.”

The room fell into an uneasy silence as Dwight's question hung in the air. You felt the weight of his words, and Joel's eyes met yours.

“Actually, I think I better be going. It’s getting late,” Joel spoke, meeting your watered gaze.

“No, you’re not,” Dwight warned. His expression remained firm, and he spoke with an authoritative tone. "Joel, you're a guest here, and we should resolve this now. We're all adults, and we can handle an honest conversation."

Joel hesitated, caught between the desire to avoid further conflict and the weight of the unspoken truths that lingered in the room. He glanced at you, silently seeking guidance. You took a deep breath, recognizing the need to address the situation.

"Dwight, we need to handle this with care," you urged, your tone calm yet firm. "Joel has the right to leave if he feels uncomfortable. We can discuss things more openly when tensions have cooled down."

“I want to know why you lied to me about it,” Dwight said to you.

In your nervousness, Joel noticed you were uncomfortable. He reached for you to touch your shoulder in order to make you feel better, but before he could come closer, Dwight intervened.

“Don’t touch her,” Dwight warned.

Joel withdrew, a frown forming on his face, but he respected Dwight's demand. The room fell into an uneasy silence as the unspoken complexities of the situation continued to unfold. The need for a careful and honest conversation was evident, but the challenge was maintaining a level of respect and understanding in the face of rising tensions.

"We need to talk about this," you said, your voice steady. "But let's do it when we can all approach the conversation calmly and with an intention to understand, not to accuse."

Dwight nodded, his expression still stern. "Fine, but we will address this. No more hiding."

+

Later, as you and Dwight prepared for bed, the weight of the unspoken conversation loomed over you. Dwight, however, was not ready to let the matter rest.

"Before we go to sleep, can we talk about this?" he asked, his tone earnest.

You hesitated, fully aware that addressing the issue in your current emotional state would only escalate matters further. Instead of responding directly, you began gathering a few belongings, making your intention to spend the night in the guest room clear.

"I just need some space tonight," you explained, avoiding eye contact. "We can talk about everything in the morning when we've had time to think."

Dwight's expression shifted between frustration and concern. "I just want to understand, to know the truth."

"I know," you replied, your voice softening. "And we will talk. But not tonight."

“You’re married to me,” he called out before you stepped out of the room.

You turned to face him, your expression displaying frustration. “And?”

“You own me respect,” he stated.

“Respect must be earned, and right now you are acting like an idiot,” you acknowledged, your voice steady.

With that, you left the room, leaving Dwight to contemplate his behavior. Right now, you felt your marriage was dying little by little, and you wanted nothing more than just freedom.

+++

The next morning, there was a palpable sense of tension in the atmosphere. As you prepared for the day, the weight of the unresolved talk with Dwight hung heavy in your mind. He was nowhere to be found during the morning, so you get ready for the day.

After a restless night, you decided to head into work, hoping that a change of scenery and a return to routine might provide a necessary distraction. As you made your way to Joel’s office, you noticed Joel sitting with quiet contemplation in his eyes.

"Morning," you greeted, offering a tentative smile.

"Morning," Joel replied, his expression mirroring the unease in the room.

"Oh, I just wanted to say sorry for last night," you began, choosing your words carefully. " Dwight's attitude was completely

Joel shook his head, a small smile breaking through. "It's not your fault. Beside, I can handle a bit of tension."

You appreciated his understanding with a tiny smile.

“Did you sleep well, though? You seem restless,” he pointed out.

You sighed, acknowledging the toll the previous night had taken on your peace of mind. "Not really. The atmosphere was a bit... tense."

Joel's gaze softened, understanding the weight of the situation. “Well, I’m sorry for being back in your life,” he joked.

“Don’t say that,” you tilted your head. “You’re the best thing that happened to me this last time.”

Joel's smile widened at your words; the tension in the room was momentarily replaced with a warm exchange. "Well, if that's the case, I'm glad to be back." He paused and said, “Take your time. Relationships are like construction projects. They need a solid foundation and careful planning."

With a chuckle, you responded, "You would know, being a building contractor and all."

As the day unfolded, you found yourself grateful for Joel's presence and the brief moments of levity he brought. It was a reminder that, amidst the uncertainties, a supportive connection could make the uncharted territory feel a bit less daunting.

+++++

“By the way, Sarah called me; she and Tara are going to my house to finish this school project,” Joel told you.

A sense of relief washed over you as Joel shared the news about Sarah and Tara. It provided a welcomed diversion from the complex situation you had at home.

"Oh, that's great," you replied, a genuine smile forming. "At least they have each other's company. I hope the project is going well."

“It’s great how they became friends so easily. It reminds me of us,” he said, smiling.

You couldn't help but smile at Joel's observation. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it?”

Joel nodded in agreement, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. “Okay, so you’re free to go; I can drive Tara home once they’re done with the project.”

You nodded appreciatively at Joel's offer. "That would be great, thanks. And thanks for being here, Joel," you said, expressing gratitude for the fresh air he had offered you since he became part of your life again "It means a lot."

Joel nodded, a reassuring presence. "Take your time, and remember, I'm just a call away if you need anything. We'll get through this."

“See you later, then?”

“See you later, Doe”

+++++

Once you arrived back home, Dwight was there. The tension already felt like a string around your neck, suffocating you all over.

As you stepped back into the house, the familiar surroundings felt charged with tension. You both exchanged a cautious glance, each aware of the elephant in the room. Dwight, however, seemed to be avoiding the topic, engaging in mundane conversations through his phone with someone else.

After some time, when you could no longer bear the unspoken tension, you decided to address the elephant in the room. "Dwight, we need to talk about last night. We can't just ignore it."

He sighed, a subtle avoidance in his eyes. "Can't it wait? I've got a work trip coming up, and I need to get everything sorted."

You raised an eyebrow, a mix of frustration and disbelief in your expression. "A work trip? You're leaving for the whole weekend?"

Dwight nodded, his gaze drifting away. "Yeah, well, I’ll come back next Friday. It's a last-minute thing. I need to handle some important projects. It came up unexpectedly."

The timing felt convenient yet suspicious. The air thickened with unspoken questions, but Dwight continued to divert the conversation away from the pressing issues.

"Dwight, we can't keep avoiding this," you insisted, your voice firm. "We need to address what happened."

"I know, I know," he replied, a hint of impatience in his tone. "But I've got to leave now, and I need to get some rest. Can we talk when I get back?"

The evasion felt deliberate, leaving you frustrated and with a sense of urgency to address the unresolved matters. However, faced with the impending work trip, Dwight's departure seemed inevitable.

"Fine," you reluctantly agreed, though the unease lingered. "But when you get back, we're talking about this. No more avoiding."

Dwight nodded, though his expression remained distant, but still he pecked your lips.

“Take care, and take care of Tara,” he said before stepping out of the house.

You were left there in the middle of a living room that felt colder as the days passed by. You have never felt so small in your life as you were feeling now, living under the same moon as Dwight, and that thought alone made you sick.

Every time sadness overcomes you and salty tears stream out of your eyes, you take out your memory box and look at the pictures of your older self, the one who thought she knew everything, the one who thought she knew herself without her half. Every single time you came across those memories, it was Joel, the one beside you, looking at you as if you were hanging the moon in the sky, and you smiled.

When you looked at the pictures of him, you were relieved by the words and the kisses, and suddenly all the space surrounding you was full of him. You had come to terms with the fact that you weren’t complete without him; he lived inside you because he made you feel complete; he taught you how to love and be loved and how to know you were worth the world; and after him, you accepted that you were never going to be that foolish girl again.

But now, you were in front of his door, hesitating and gathering the courage to knock on the door and face the what if, and when Joel opened the door with surprise on his face, you were him, and he was you.

"Oh. You’re not a pizza guy,” he said, with evident surprise in his voice.

You managed a small smile at Joel's observation, appreciating the brief moment of levity. "No, not the pizza guy. But I was alone at my house, and I thought I could stop by and take Tara home.”

“Actually, I promised the girls a pizza; we were just about to.“

"Oh, okay, I can come later,” you interrupted, feeling ashamed of the sudden feeling you have to be closer to him again.

“What are you talking about? Of course, no, come here,” he said, moving from the door entrance to allow you to step into his house.

This was the first time you were here, and you couldn’t help but recall all the features of Joel that made him him. How those tiny objects and decorations around his house told the story of him, and how would it be if you didn’t leave that night?

“Such a cozy home.” You emphasize the word home since this one felt like one.

Joel smiled warmly at your compliment. "Thanks. I try to make it feel like home. Come on in; make yourself comfortable."

Suddenly, his hand traveled to your waist, guiding you through his house, and the air was cut from your lungs. Your eyes met for a second, and his hand left his spot; however, his handprint still burned.

However, Joel guided you toward the living room, where Tara and Sarah were eagerly setting up the table for their promised dinner. The girls looked up, their faces lighting up with surprise and excitement.

"Hey, look who's here!" Joel announced, his tone cheerful as he entered the living room with Sarah and Tara. The girls greeted you warmly, their excitement contagious.

“Mom? What are you doing here?” Tara asked, walking towards you to envelope you in a tight embrace.

You hug Tara and say, "I thought I'd drop by and join you guys for pizza." You lied.

I felt alone; you thought for yourself only.

Sarah chimed in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Are you staying for the movie night too?"

You looked at Joel curious; he still had Friday's movie night. “I supposed,” you answered, still looking at Joel. “Can I?

"Absolutely,” Joel said, not taking his gaze away from yours.

“What about my dad?” Tara asked, “Is he okay with this?”

“Well, he left for a business trip, so we are alone for the weekend,” you replied.

And before more questions could be asked, the doorbell rang.

“The pizza, I’ll go for it,” Joel announced, disappearing from your view.

“Mom, are you okay?” Tara asked, concerned.

You gave Tara a reassuring smile. "I'm okay, sweetheart. I just wanted to spend some time with you and have a fun movie night."

Tara nodded, still showing a hint of concern. "If you ever need to talk or anything..."

"Thank you, Tara. I appreciate that," you replied, grateful for her caring nature.

As Joel returned with the pizza, the evening continued with shared laughter, conversation, and the simple joy of spending time together. The movie Night became a bridge connecting the past and the present, offering a glimpse into the potential for renewed connections.

The living room, adorned with warmth and laughter, and everything between you and Joel felt so natural as if time didn’t pass by.

You didn’t notice, but Tara paid attention to the both of you with a smile on her face. This exact moment was the picture she had always imagined of a happy family. A happy mother, a father who didn’t need to utter words to show the love he felt for the woman beside him, because she saw in Joel’s eyes the way he looked at you as if you were the brightest star in the sky, that man loved you, and she felt at ease.

“You know, you can stay the night." Joel offered you, once Sarah and Tara fell asleep in Sarah’s room, “You can take my bed and I can take the couch.”

You hesitated for a moment, weighing the implications of Joel's suggestion. It was completely fine for a pair of friends, but you weren’t just that, and you both know that behind all the reconnection, there was addiction to something you couldn’t possess.

"I appreciate the offer, Joel," you replied, a soft smile playing on your lips. "But I should head to my house.”

“But you don’t deserve to go to a lonely house,” he said, trying to plead with you about the idea of spending a night with you under the same roof. He started to feel a joy inside his gut, all his feelings hidden there.

You could sense concern in Joel’s voice and see the pleading dancing in his eyes, but saying yes to him felt like steeping into fire. You still saw in Joel all the habits he picked up from you, being the pleading eyes one of the things you remembered the most, and now you could understand the implications of what your departure did to him.

His heart broke in two, just like yours.

"I appreciate the concern, Joel, but I don’t think it is fair to you," you said, your voice gentle.

“Please?” He pleaded again, his eyes sparkling so much that you could follow the light on them.

“Okay, I’ll stay.” You gave up; you couldn’t say “no” to him so many times.

You saw his dark brown eyes twinkling as he nodded, smiling at your answer.

"Thank you," Joel whispered, breaking into a small, relieved smile.

You followed him into the familiar surroundings of his home; every step felt like discovering a new way back home. A sense of warmth enveloped you, making you feel protected and comfortable in Joel´s presence.

Once you stepped into his bedroom, you took a seat on his bed, and a wave of nostalgia washed over you. The familiar scent of Joel was all over the space that you could navigate inside this wall blindfolded, and the comforting presence of him felt like a step back in time.

Joel, sensing something dancing in your eyes, opened his closet and pulled out a set of comfortable clothes. "Here, you can wear these for the night. They should be comfortable enough."

“Oh my god!” you said, looking at the shirt Joel had lent you. “You still have this?” you asked him, in awe.

Joel chuckled, the warmth of shared memories evident in his eyes. "Yeah, I kept it. It's been tucked away in the back, but I figured it might come in handy tonight."

Your fingers traced the fabric of the shirt. "I can't believe you still have it. It feels like a lifetime ago."

He smiled, a nostalgic twinkle in his eyes. "Some things are hard to let go."

For a moment, time between you stopped, and for a moment, you were still able to see the sunlight through his hair in the morning and how he sounded when he laughed. And you hoped you didn’t damage his heart that much.

"Thanks, Joel. It's been a while since I wore something from your closet." The soft fabric of the shirt still carried a subtle scent of Joel that brought back a flood of memories.

He chuckled a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "Yeah, it has. Well, I'll let you get some rest. Goodnight, Doe."

Doe

You allowed him to call him Doe this time, pretending he was still yours and you were his.

"Goodnight, Joel," you replied, changing into the borrowed clothes. The fabric held a hint of his familiar scent, adding an extra layer of comfort as you settled beneath the covers. The bedroom door closed, leaving you in the soft embrace of memories as sleep gradually claimed you.

However, the soft glow of the moonlight spilled through the windows as you lay in bed and witnessed your sleeping trouble as you tried to find solace in the familiar surroundings of Joel’s room.

It was different. Sleeping in a bed with the scent of the man whose presence allowed you to sleep wasn’t the same when he wasn’t next to you, letting you rest your head on his chest.

So, as sleep proved elusive, and after tossing and turning for what felt like hours, you decided to go downstairs, hoping Joel was awake.

As you descended the stairs, the hushed sounds of the night filled the house. The soft creaking of the floor under your weight was the only disruption to the silence. When you reached the living room, you saw Joel sitting on the couch, his gaze fixed on an old photo album.

He seemed lost in a sea of memories, unaware of your presence. You stood there for a moment, observing the emotions playing across his face as he traced the images with his fingers, as if he were savoring the past with his fingertips, trying to bring it back.

When he finally noticed you, a small smile curled his lips. "Couldn't you sleep either?

You shook your head, joining him on the couch. "Too many thoughts."

He nodded in understanding, closing the photo album. "I get it."

Back in time, Joel had the advantage of taking your heart when it was still a blank canvas expecting to be painted on. He took it so delicately and caressed it with such care in order to never hurt you. He made you love him so much that once he wasn’t in your life anymore, you didn’t know where to put his love anymore.

It never left.

Joel's gaze remained fixed on the closed photo album in his hands. "Sometimes, I wish we could go back," he admitted, his voice a soft whisper.

You sighed, the ache of longing settling in your chest. “Back when?”

"When we were young and foolish, everything felt so alive."

As you looked at Joel, his eyes held a warmth that transcended the years. "We can't change the past, Joel," you said, your voice gentle. “The past made us what we are now.”

“Yet it cost me to lose you,” he said.

You took a seat beside him on the couch; the distance between you measured not in physical space but in the vast expanse of years and the unspoken words that lingered in the air.

"I lost you too," you replied, your voice a whisper. The weight of the shared regret hung between you, a palpable reminder of the choices that had shaped your lives. "But maybe, in losing each other, we found different paths, different versions of ourselves."

Joel's gaze remained on the photo album, his fingers tracing patterns on the closed cover. "Do you ever wonder about what we could have been?”

"Always," you confessed. "But you don’t lose me at all; I’m here again.”

A small smile played on Joel's lips. His fingers gently cupped your face, his touch a tender exploration of the years that had etched themselves on your skin. His thumb traced the contours of your cheekbones, a soft caress that spoke longing and love.

Leaning in, Joel brought his forehead to rest against yours, the closeness of your proximity stirring memories of when you belonged together. The air between you crackled with unspoken emotions, and inside your chest, you felt your broken heart patching together, with such a burning desire to close the distance between the two of you.

His lips hovered close to yours, a breath away, the pull of history and the magnetic force of shared affection urging him forward. The world outside the quiet living room ceased to exist, and you found yourself caught in the gravitational pull of an unfinished story.

But even when the kiss could rewrite the story, you weren’t a cheater. You heart raced, but your mind stopped doing something stupid and naïve.

Before you could make up your mind completely, Joel pulled back, his eyes searching yours. The unspoken words lingered in the air.

"Does he treat you right?" Joel's words hung in the air, a mix of genuine concern and a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

You took a moment, your gaze meeting his, and there was a silent conversation between you two.

"In some ways, he's everything I need. In others, he's a puzzle I'm still figuring out." You answered.

Joel nodded, avoiding your gaze as he felt his heart break all over again for you.

“When I found out I was pregnant,” you began, “Dwight and I were dating. It had been only three months, and couples aren’t parents in such a short time.” You paused for a moment, hoping for Joel to look at you again, and when he did, you continued, “I was scared, but he was so nice to me at that moment, and by the end we were over the moon. At least I was happy I was going to have a baby girl. When Tara was born, we moved in together, and long story short, we got married because it seemed correct at the time.

“And?” Joel asked, trying to figure out when your life becomes different, but he still knew by the way your eyes looked that not everything was as fine as it seemed.

“He was an amazing husband and friend; it almost made me forget about the broken heart I had because of you. But these last four years with him had been complicated,” you continued, a touch of vulnerability in your voice.

“How?”

"Just because he is different from me. It’s like he is plotting for an ending and Tara is noticing, and it felt so humiliating to have your own daughter notice her father doesn’t love her mother.”

Joel's gaze softened for a moment, and before asking a question, he was scared to ask, “And do you love him?”

Your eyes widened at the sudden question, and a moment of hesitation hung in the air. You took a deep breath before answering.

"It's not that simple," you admitted, your voice carrying uncertainty and honesty. "I care about him, but..."

“But what?”

“You know what.” You said it in three simple words, and he understood.

It cost so much to keep love from going wrong, but between you and Joel, there wasn’t a particular ending. The lovers between you both never went wrong; neither expired because you were still hungry for each other's devotion. But now that it seemed like time had become your enemy, you weren’t young enough to break free and run as you could have done it before.

“I love you,” he said. “Never stop doing it.” His voice resonated as someone who spent years and years yearning for the touch of their lover.

“I’m sorry,” you confessed, not avoiding saying the three words back to him; he didn’t need to hear them. He already knew you loved him back as much as he loved you. “For the way I left you,”

Joel's gaze held relief and understanding. He knew somehow you had healed from those wounds. "I don't blame you, Doe. We were young, and life threw challenges at us. I've had my share of regrets too.” He reached out, his hand finding yours, and they still fit together as one. “Now, can we please be friends again?” he pleaded.

You nodded, a faint smile playing on your lips. “Now that you’re back, I couldn’t let you go.”

Joel's eyes sparkled with a newfound light, and he suggested, "How about we watch a movie until you fall asleep?"

You agreed, and together you settled on the couch. The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the TV screen, casting a warm ambiance that seemed to cocoon the two of you in a world of shared moments.

As the movie played, the silence between you held a comfort that transcended words. Joel shifted, creating a makeshift pillow with his arm, and you found a natural spot on his chest. The rise and fall of his breath became a soothing rhythm, lulling you into a sense of peace you hadn't felt in a long time without pills.

Joel looks down at your sleeping figure on his chest, with your hand grasping the gem of his shirt. He was starved by your touch, wanting nothing but to trace patterns on your face as he used to. Your soft expression lines told the story of how the past and present went from here. That there’s no one he could call home, and you could never leave home completely, and how easy it would be to be young again.

And he looked at the ring on your finger, a reminder that you weren’t his anymore, and how easy it was for someone to feel hungry by something that was forbidden. Yet he thought about the ring he still had with him, still waiting to find its way to your finger.

You were the kind of love he couldn't find on someone else's body. Your touch, your lips, and every single inch of your skin were the starvation Joel was deprived of, and now you were his forbidden fruit.

Nevertheless, under the dim light of the TV screen, your face was glowing in a soft golden tone that sent Joel to sleep, but he was holding his dream in his arms for the first time after so long.

When the morning sun gradually painted Sarah’s room with the soft hues of the warm sun, Sarah and Tara descended the stairs, their steps cautious not to disturb the tranquil air that enveloped the living room.

As they reached the bottom of the staircase, their eyes fell upon you and Joel, still intertwined on the couch, lost in peaceful sleep. Tara's eyes sparkled with genuine happiness at the sight of her mother and Joel holding each other like that.

Sarah couldn't help but notice Tara's radiant smile. "Why are you smiling so big?" she whispered to her.

Tara motioned toward you and Joel, the affectionate way in which you two held each other not escaping her keen gaze. "Look at them,” she said, still smiling.

Sarah raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin forming on her lips.

Tara nodded, her smile unwavering. "This is the first time I have seen my mom at peace.”

Tara’s gaze was still fixed on the pair on the couch. "Maybe Joel can bring that peace back to my mom’s."

Sarah chuckled, giving her friend a playful nudge. "Are you saying we should ship your mom and my dad?"

Tara rolled her eyes, but her smile remained. "I'm just saying if they make each other happy, why not?"

Weekend passed by and Tara asked no questions about why did you fell asleep on Joel’s chest, she clearly knew the answer to that question yet she didn't judge you, since she was a little girl, she noticed each sacrifice you had made for her and how you had distributed all the love you had inside your heart to her.

How bad she wanted for you to be brave enough and get divorced from her father.

So, when Monday arrived, the weight of the tension between you and Joel seemed to shift. The echoes of the weekend lingered in the air. This time, you both look happier, acting as friends, laughing together and sharing time as you kept your role of assistant.

So, before lunch and after you finished with the work Joel had left for you while he was out, you decided to go and buy lunch for him and you to share, after all you would arrive to an empty house since Tara would be still at school and Dwight was in a business trip, you didn't want be left alone with your thoughts in an empty house that seemed to become colder as the day passed by.

You buy a bottle of lemonade, and two burgers with French fries, hoping for Joel to still being number one of them. You weren’t used to come to this part of the city, but this time you stopped in order to bring the burgers and fries you wanted to share with Joel.

However, once you paid, the corner of your eye caught a person you didn't expected to see. There was Dwight, who was supposedly in New York until next weekend, buying food here. You turned away for him not to notice you, then you decided to follow him to see find out what was happening.

So, when you followed him, you stopped a little away and saw him happily taking a little girl around four years old in his arms as he kissed her temple with so much love you never saw him share with Tara, and what was next was a woman around the same age as you joining them with a smile on her face and you heart stopped.

She kissed Dwight on his lips, as both of them looked at the little girl smiling happily in the arms of your husband.

A surge of emotions tightened in your chest as you witnessed the scene unfold before your eyes. The knot of anxiety and confusion grew with each passing moment. The woman with Dwight, the affectionate exchange, and the child—all pieces of a puzzle that didn't fit into the life you thought you knew.

As the trio walked away to the car, laughter and joy enveloping them, you were left standing there, alone with the weight of a shattered reality

You felt humiliated.  There were your answers. The four years of odd behavior, the four years of plotting against you, his sudden trips, his careless attitude towards you.

all the way, Dwight had made you and Tara move to Austin just for him to be closer to his other family, the secret one.

tags 💌: @joeldjarin @missladym1981 @yomiyasxx @aliengirl99

@lola8888673 @nottodaysattan @picketniffler @violinchick

@sadgirlcheesecake @caitlynsixxx

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

hii is there anything where kurt has a late husband or smth

Hello - here are some that deal with Kurt's grief - if that's what you are looking for? Hopefully, these are. ~Jen

Love is the End by @heartsmadeofbooks

After the unthinkable happens on his wedding day, Kurt Hummel has to learn how to navigate life after heartbreak. But he is not alone – his best friend, Blaine Anderson, is there to take him on a journey back to happiness and love.

~~~~~

Catalysis by nadiacreek

Kurt Hummel chose his soulmate too early. Blaine Anderson thought he’d never have a chance to choose one at all.

~~~~~

There’s no such placeby pene

When Kurt lost the things he loved the most, he hid himself away from the world - until the night Blaine crashed into his life.

This is an AU. A snowbound cabin romance. And a story where Kurt and Blaine never met, until they did.

~~~~~

Back to the Startby missbeizy

Arranged marriage AU where Kurt, a NYC fashion designer, loses his husband, moves back to Lima to recover/take care of his dad, and is paired up for remarriage with Blaine, who is a senior at McKinley.

~~~~

Lean on Meby kcollinsp

Futurefic! Blaine and Kurt broke up, 17 years later they meet when Kurt’s daughter has Blaine as a teacher. One a widow and one newly single, they begin a relationship that rekindles the passion they had as teens. Eventual M for smut.

~~~~~

These Broken Wings by imatrisarahtops

When Kurt becomes a widower at the age of 29, he and his son return to Lima to try to pick up the pieces. Perhaps the one person who can save him is someone that he had forgotten was there all along.

~~~~~

Every Night has it’s Dawnby Zazou

Cleaned up old Glee kink meme. Dr. Blaine Anderson is infatuated with his patient’s father Kurt, a single dad with a tragic past. They have great chemistry but can they overcome their emotional baggage together?

[escapingrealityforamoment]

In this short story, inspired by Taylor Swift's "The Story of Us," Y/N and Conrad meet after months of separation. They address the unresolved feelings and regrets that led to their breakup. As they talk, they find hope for a fresh start and a chance to rewrite their story together.

Y/N's heart raced as they walked down the crowded hallway, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone. It had been months since they had seen Conrad Fisher, and the mere thought of running into him sent a flurry of emotions through their veins.

As fate would have it, just as Y/N turned the corner, they collided with someone, and to their surprise, it was Conrad. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

"Y/N," Conrad said, breaking the silence. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, it has," Y/N replied, their voice slightly shaky. "How have you been?"

Conrad hesitated before answering, "I've been good, trying to stay busy. And you?"

"I've been okay too," Y/N replied, trying to sound casual, but their heart was anything but calm.

The awkward tension between them was palpable, a stark contrast to the ease they had once shared. Memories of laughter and shared secrets flooded Y/N's mind, but they were now overshadowed by the pain of the unresolved ending.

Conrad took a step closer, his expression softening. "I never wanted things to end the way they did between us."

Y/N nodded, finally finding the courage to express their own feelings. "Me neither, Conrad. It's just that things got complicated, and we didn't know how to navigate it."

He sighed, his eyes reflecting regret. "I wish we had communicated better, found a way to work through it."

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling a weight lifting off their shoulders as they shared their truth. "I still think about you, Conrad. The memories we had together, they were special to me. And it hurt to see that chapter close without resolution."

Conrad nodded, understanding etched on his face. "I feel the same way, Y/N. I never stopped caring about you, and the way we ended things haunts me too."

As they spoke honestly about their feelings, the tension in the air began to ease. It was as if they were finally finding closure, unraveling the knots of emotions that had tied them in silence.

"I wish we could go back and rewrite our story," Y/N admitted, a hint of sadness in their voice.

Conrad reached out to gently touch Y/N's hand, his touch comforting. "Maybe we can't change the past, but we can start anew, as friends or whatever feels right. We can create a different chapter together."

Y/N smiled, feeling a glimmer of hope. Perhaps their story wasn't entirely over. Maybe, in time, they could mend the broken pieces and find a new way to be in each other's lives.

As they parted ways that day, Y/N couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected encounter. It was a step towards healing, a chance to rekindle a connection that had once meant the world to both of them.

[becausesomething]

Pieces of you in me and a strawberry cake with chantili frosting (Jerza)

Sinopse:

The unexpected that comes with a slice of strawberry cake with whipped cream 💓

Based on a prompt: Write around "She was at that particular point in her life when every stranger she saw on the street reminded her of someone she once loved/hated/lost."

WC: 2K

I was on my way to my favorite bakery to have some alone time with a slice of strawberry cake with whipped cream topping. I needed a treat before heading to the next mission, but in reality it was a comfort and escape from the decision I would have to make.

However, the day was being strange because the people around me brought back memories....

Of our history, of your presence and the impact it had on my breathing, which was uncertain, of the accidental touch that made my heart almost jump out of my chest.

I avoided looking at them even though I knew they were looking at me with admiration, but my focus was buying my cake and going to sit at a more hidden table where I could have peace. A quick chat with the mission-completed baker. Could finally take a bite.

Until a person passed in front of me and clearly reminded me of you. I could only be going crazy because you were on a mission that would take a few months, but you would be back, and this dynamic was already natural for us.

For so many years hatred and revenge reigned. How I helped him, only to end up being expelled without being able to save anyone, and still having to carry the secret of what really happened inside that tower to save them from death. Scarlet, that name he gave me caused deep pain, but it evolved into tenderness after the confrontation in the sky tower. It was a relief to see that Jellal look that I fell in love with as a child. The armor I carry became just armor because I no longer needed to hide my pain. My friends were safe and could live the freedom that Natsu had achieved, and even in the face of Simon's sacrifice, that years-long nightmare had finally ended. Erza Scarlet didn't need to hide or repress her pain, or continue to carry the weight of sacrifices, because she had my family and friends.

With every bite of that cake, it's inevitable not to smile at that divine flavor. I lived for these little moments and pleasures. I could compare this feeling of feeling full to the comfort you gave me. Even if it was for brief encounters, feeling the presence and the effort you put in to redeem yourself from past mistakes rekindled that flame.

I wouldn't admit it beyond myself, but since the day I saw you leave and called me Scarlet again, and just remembering part of your memories, what I felt for you became intense and since then I haven't get you out of my mind. It was the beginning of dreams about a future we could share together, if only you would stop clinging to the past and allow yourself to give the present and me a chance. The reality was that the harsh words and actions you forced me to take were my affection and fear of losing you again screaming. I wanted you, but we both still had our own paths continuing to be walked alone.

Tears of joy and pleasure begin to fall from his right eye. I was almost at the end of that piece of cake, when I took a bite of a strawberry. The fresh and light acidic flavor mixing with the sweetness of the cake and whipped cream. It was the taste of paradise in my mouth.

Those were the exact words you said after kissing me. A kiss wrapped in tenderness, passion and freedom. You had changed for me, you were finally free to allow yourself to love and live to protect the people around with that feeling. That night, neither of us slept, we just wanted to enjoy being in each other's presence until the sun rose again. Between stolen kisses, fingers intertwined, like two people lost in love.

The unexpected thing that made me lose my composure in front of the rest of the guild, which is still talked about but soon hushed up when they realize I'm present, happened when you asked the master to join Fairy Tail. It no longer mattered how long we had to be separated on missions, we would return to the same space. And I continued to keep alive the memories of a Jellal who was not shy, provocative, aware of what he wanted and which became deep dreams of what you wanted for us. Despite the effect of the white magician's magic, I liked to keep those details to myself. How my body wanted to respond, but my mind knew that it was not the time or place to let myself be carried away by the pleasure of surrendering to him.

I finish the cake and relax in my chair, licking my fingers because nothing could be wasted from that slice of heaven. I feel a hand on my face, and within seconds of opening my eyes in surprise, I am robbed of a kiss.

-You are even more beautiful when you are caught off guard Scarlet

-We're in public Jellal, you shouldn't...

-Are we a couple or not?

Sitting in front of me, he takes my hand and intertwines their fingers, leaving me completely embarrassed but that smile became a weakness that made me strong.

-What are you doing here? You said the mission would take a few months, but it's just been...

He gets up and forces me to do the same, leading the way out of the bakery to the outskirts of the city, in silence and just smiling shyly. Several times I tried to come up with an answer, but he only pressed me tighter against him and quickened his pace.

-Jellal, stop! What is happening?! - I finally managed to let go and cross my arms, making a point of conveying the message that I wouldn't leave until I got answers.

-We're almost there Erza, just a few more meters and...

-Where? Since you arrived and didn't say anything... How are you, how did the mission go, where were you... Not that I'm controlling you and I see that you're fine, but I thought we were in a relationship and these are things that couples share.

As expected, he grabs me by the waist and, placing one of the locks behind my ear, he kisses me on the forehead.

-The mission was completed faster than I expected because I had help. I was far away gathering everything I needed to then be close. I've been building the house we're going to call ours.

I remain static processing that information, and looking at him while I just wanted to repress him for not having said anything. He spins around me and grabs me by the waist, hugging me from behind and pointing in a direction.

-Do you see that brick house with the wooden porch hidden by those yellow tress? It was built from the ground up, considering all the things you like that I remember you talking about when we were little.

He slides his hands and intertwines one with my fingers, and the other on my belly.

-It is our home, where we will continue writing our history and perhaps build a new future in our time.

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 22 - Prompt: Fire @pandalilymicrofics

February Daily Series - 716 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

Lily lifted Pandora to her feet, then scrambled after her when she immediately stormed off toward the bloke she’d flattened. Their cute moment was ruined by the looming shadow of the man as he struggled to stand. The rude language he hurled at Pandora rekindled the fire of her temper all over again.

“Wait!” she called. “Hold on, Pandora!”

Thankfully, Sirius intervened first. He shoved the tall man away from Pandora and spoke in a low, intense voice. Lily couldn’t hear what he said, but it must have been a threat, because the strange fellow baulked and backed away.

“No! I didn’t hurt her! I just wanted her to admit that she ruined a good thing,” he protested, holding his hands up.

Sirius scoffed, “A good thing? Barty, after the shite you pulled? I doubt you’re capable of anything ‘good.’”

Barty looked up at the sky with a manic expression and shook his hands as though he was silently cursing the clouds. “Not Reg. I mean Evan!”

“Evan? As in…” Sirius trailed off as he turned to face Pandora. “Your brother?”

“Yes! And he’s stalking me just like the medium said he was!”

“I am not!”

Lily glanced down at her in surprise. “When did she say that?”

“After you left, I’ll explain later.” Pandora gripped her hand and held it behind her back as she positioned herself in front of Lily. “Listen, Bartemius, and listen good. You don’t get a second chance with me. Evan deserves better.”

“I am better! I swear!”

“Once a cheater, always a cheater.”

As Pandora continued arguing with the man — Barty? Bartemius? — Lily heard another, quieter debate starting behind her. James and Remus whispering sternly at Regulus while he struggled to free himself from James’s arms. There was definitely a connection.

Mary stepped closer and cupped her elbow. “Everything alright, doll?”

“It seems to be contained chaos, I think?”

“Any idea what’s going on? I found this mobile on the ground, is it Pandora’s?”

Lily briefly filled her in on what she’d overheard as she slipped the phone into Pandora’s skirt pocket. Mary’s furrowed brow deepened with every detail, then she nodded curtly and strode toward Sirius and Barty.

“Lily?” Remus said, tapping her shoulder. “Can you ask Pandora to talk Regulus down? He thinks that bloke hurt her and is losing his shite.”

Before she could answer, Pandora’s bangles clanged loudly as she whirled around and dragged Lily into the tent. Remus huffed a laugh while following them inside. Lily rolled her eyes at him when she was gently pushed into an empty folding chair.

At some point she’d become one of Pandora’s accessories, but Lily really didn’t mind. Especially when Pandora plopped in her lap again as she spoke quietly with Regulus. James offered her an apologetic grin that overflowed with relief as he turned to face her and Pandora properly.

Remus helped the stall’s owner straighten up the mess. “Sorry about all this, Tom. Is anything broken?”

“At least three train cars are missing!” the man said. He was justifiably upset about the state of his inventory.

James waved at Remus and mouthed, “Tell him I’ll pay for it.”

Lily watched the others with interest as she pieced together what happened. She heard Pandora shouting, but by the time she reached her, the man was already on the ground. Lily prevented escalation, but Pandora had the situation well in hand.

The woman was a force to be reckoned with, and once again, Lily was left profoundly impressed. She still hadn’t worked out how the psychic was involved though.

“Alright, he’s leaving,” Mary announced, stepping into the tent and immediately reaching for a rocking horse that laid on its side. “Sirius is escorting him out.”

“Did you say Sirius?” Remus repeated as his head snapped up. He hurriedly finished his task before bolting out of the tent.

“Yeah, that’s probably best.” James sighed heavily as he lifted to his feet. “Let me help, Mary. And sir, I apologise for the mess.”

Within minutes, the stall was sorted and the owner appeased with multiple apologies, charming smiles, and purchases by James. Lily couldn’t help admiring this mad group of menaces that she and Remus stumbled upon at the ice rink. They were messy, but at least they were courteous.

Next Part>>>

[bullet-prooflove]

Doing Time: Jeff Clarke x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @witches-unruly-heart @telepathay @iworldlywriter @caffeinatedwoman @winchesterszvonecek @whateversomethingbruh @burningpeachpuppy @upsteadlogic @skyesthebomb @neapolitantoebeans @olymosity @stxrryswvrld @courtney-elizabeth93 @switchbladeclub

Companion piece to

Bail

Not Now, Not Ever

Conjugal

It’s four in the morning during his second month of incarceration that Jeff realises where the gun is. That weapon had been the crux of his whole trial, his gun, his bullets, his crime.

They’d never found it but the ballistics were enough to put the nail in his coffin.

You had done everything you could to find it, to prove his innocence. You’d hired a PI to follow Lisa, trying to track down the location, and Jeff had wracked his brain trying to figure it out. The two of you had created a timeline, Haye’s death up until when his body was found and the police had turned up at Lisa’s place and then subsequently Jeff’s. There were only a limited amount of places that Lisa could have stashed it in that short space of time.

Now that he doesn’t have your visits to look forward, he has lot more time on his hands. The guys still take it in turns to visit. Severide had reamed him out over ending things with you, but he knew the other man understood. Hermann had promised to keep an eye on you, you were part of the family after all and so was Jeff, it doesn’t matter that he’s locked up. Capp regales him with firehouse antics whilst Casey assures him they’re doing everything in their power to work on his appeal.

After each visit he lies in his bunk and he thinks about you, the snippets of news he’s received from his visitors. You’re working more shifts, burying yourself in your work. You’d almost gotten yourself arrested for harassing Lisa, but Antonio had let you off with a warning. It had been the day after Jeff had terminated his visits with you. He wishes you’d just let it go, that you’d forget about him and move on but he knows it isn’t that easy. If your roles were reversed, he would be doing exactly the same thing.

He had never told you that Lisa had come to visit him a few dayss before Hayes was killed. She’d drove past the old house and found herself sitting in the garden underneath the tree they used to have picnics under in the summer. It had been sold almost six months before but the family had decided to renovate it before moving in, leaving it vacant.

“Do you remember carving our initials into that tree before you were deployed the last time?” She had asked him as they’d sat on his porch. He didn’t want her in the house, that was your place, the home you had created together, he hadn’t wanted this ex-wife to taint it. “They’re still there Jeff.”

There had been a nook in that tree, a vacant space. He used to hide Easter eggs in there for Lisa’s nieces and nephews so they could hunt for them over the holiday.

“I want to try again,” She’d told him, reaching for his hand. “I know we can be happy.”

He’d withdrawn then, crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the railing. If it had been a couple of years before, he would have jumped at the chance to rekindle their marriage but now he has a home, a family and he wouldn’t give that up for the world.

“I am happy.” He’d told her. “I’m building a life with someone else, I’m in love with someone else.”

She’d been furious after that, angry, tearful. He’d tried to pacify her but she’d climbed back into her car and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief.

He has to wait to make his phone call to Antonio Dawson, it’s a tedious process but he’d gotten used to it back in the military. He plays solitaire to pass the time because he can’t focus on the book he’s been trying to read. He doesn’t dare allow himself to hope that he’s right.

It’s the next day that Antonio comes to see him, the two of them sit across from each other. The convict and his arresting officer.

“We found the gun, along with her bloody shirt in the tree, just like you said. Her fingerprints where on both the weapon and the bullets.” Antonio tells him, his hands clasped together on the surface of the table. “The family moved into the house a few days after Haye’s death, she couldn’t risk going back to retrieve them.”

“When she came over that day, she wanted to get back together…” Jeff says, shaking his head. “I wonder if she had this in mind all along.”

“When she found out Hayes was cheating on her, it looks like she came to you for comfort and when she couldn’t get that she decided to take out two birds with one stone by killing him and framing you.” Antonio tells him, his jaw clenching as he looks around at the other tables. “You don’t deserve to be here Jeff, and I’m sorry for my part in that.”

“You were doing your job.” Jeff tells him, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his seat. “I don’t love how it turned out but I couldn’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing if I was in your position. I just need to know what happens now.”

“Your lawyer will be getting in contact later today to go through the process with you, it may take a few days but you’ll be released, your record expunged, then I’m guessing they’ll be a conversation about compensation.” Antonio explains before meeting the other man’s gaze. “I’ve spoken to Boden about getting you reinstated, he’s working on and Noelle…”

Jeff’s body tenses at the mention of your name because he can’t allow himself to entertain the possibility of you stepping back into his life, not after all of this.

“She said she’ll be waiting for you when you step outside those gates. Both her and Rocco can’t wait for you to come home.”

Love Jeff? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[tomtenadia]

Detours to You

After many months of inability to write I think I am back. The path to this fic has been one long detour... This is based on the original version I started writing a while ago... then I stopped and stupidly binned it. I had tried something else but that story will remain in my wips. Then I had a chat with @backtobl4ck and it rekindled the will to go back to the original story. I have been writing for the past few days and this time I feel good about it.

It's basically a single parent au/ secret child trope/ second chance romance/ firefighter Rowan and Bookshop owner Aelin.

There will be fluff and some angst too.

The title is from a song by Jordan Davis called Detours (thanks to @leiawritesstoriesfor the obsession)

I only have the prologue for now

Hope you will enjoy it

The house was a mess. Rowan stared at his living room and all he saw was a sea of boxes. And  tripping hazards. His entire house was a trove of safety red flags and the firefighter in him was trying to tackle one mission at the time and get the house back in order. He had moved back to Orynth after a five years absence. A painful spell back in his homeland in Wendlyn after his father passing. His mother fell deeply into depression so he had decided to go back to be with her.

The entire clan had been shocked shook by Alasdair passing. So Rowan had moved back to be with her, put dreams on hold for his family.

Until one day his mother told him that she was sick of having him around and begged him to go back to Terrasen and live his life. And when the job opportunity of a lifetime was served on a plate for him, he knew what to do. A month later he had found a house and had started the slow painstaking back and forth on the ferry between Wendlyn and Adarlan to move his life back.

Now, looking outside the floor to ceiling window at the white landscape outside he finally felt at home. He was born in Wendlyn but his family had moved to Terrasen when he was about ten for his father’s job. He had grown up there, made friends and then joined the TFD as a firefighter as soon as he was done with school, after Lorcan dragged him to an open day at one of the local firehouses. They went through academy together and became best friends. And it was during one of those nights out that he met her. Aelin. The woman of his dreams and the love of his life. They had not started with the right foot but slowly a tepid friendship had began to blossom until it became more. So much more. Until his dreams and his life fell to pieces. 

And now five years later he was ready to start again. 

He had bought a house at the edge of Orynth, very near the boundaries with the mountains. His father had left a substantial amount of money for him and his mum and he had saved it until he moved back to Terrasen and decided to buy his dream house.  Two storey house with green wooden walls, a front porch and gardens back and front. At the back he had a path leading to the woods. It was the perfect place for a family.

Rowan finished folding another empty box and stopped to stare at the snow that had started to fall outside. He had missed it. Wendlyn was warm and it never snowed and Rowan had longed for the cold dark winter months. 

After a moment he went back to his job and kept unpacking. The following day was going to be his first day at his new job. While still in Terrasen he had raised to the rank of Captain, in Wendlyn he had been promoted to battalion chief. Surprise hit him when he had started looking for jobs in Terrasen and the commissioner had contacted him and offered him the job of Chief for the whole of Orynth. Apparently Lorcan, who had succeeded him as captain, had let it slip that he was coming back and a day later he got a phone call for a new job. He was nervous but he was looking forward this new challenge. 

An hour later the living room had started looking a bit more liveable and the only boxes left to unpack in that room were his books. He had to build the bookcases first. And that’s when he realised, shelves spread on the floor, that he had no tools. 

Rowan swore mentally, then forced himself to get changed and dragged himself out to an hardware store. The house had come furnished and he had little to build. He had just forgotten the bookcases.

The trip to the hardware store had been fruitful and now he was walking back to his car. The city was crowded as it was the beginning of November and the winter festival was already underway, shops full of patrons picking gifts for the solstice.

It was at the end of the busy road that he spotted a head of blonde hair he hadn’t seen in five years. She was facing a piano shop and her usual smile lit up the evening.

Aelin was a mere ten metres from him and all he could do was stare. And when she turned, his world stopped. Aelin was holding the hand of a little girl with the hair as silver as his. 

Rowan stood, incapable of thinking or move. Silver hair. It was not a common trait in Terrasen. It only ran in his family, a genetic mutation on his father’s side.

Which meant…

A daughter.

The girl looked towards him and he froze when she waved at him with a big smile on her face.

“Let’s go Maya,” he heard Aelin say.

The girl waved back at him and they disappeared.

Rowan stood still on the pavement.

The image of a little girl with silver hair etched in his mind.

taglist

@swankii-art-teacher @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity  @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn @backtobl4ck @susumaus98  @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love  @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee @athena127

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Here You Come Again [Part Two]

Fandom: Elvis Presley, RPF, American Actor

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Original Female Character

Characters: Elvis Presley, Addison Goodwin, Original Female Characters, Priscilla Presley, Colonel Tom Parker, Vernon Presley, Gladys Presley, Minnie Mae Presley, Marci Cunningham, Jerry Schilling, Red West, Sonny West, Marty Lacker, Joe Esposito, Charlie Hodge, Lamar Fike, Alan Fortas, George Klein, Memphis Mafia

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Word Count: 6118

Summary: When Addison Goodwin was seventeen years old her life was turned inside out after a chance encounter with her past. Now, fifteen years later her life is the best it’s ever been. She has a home, a good job and a daughter she loves more than anything in the world but will all that remain when an old familiar face rolls into town.

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Graceland, Las Vegas, The International Hotel, Elvis In Vegas, 1970s, 1970s Elvis, Friends To Lovers, Rekindled Romance, Parenting, Time Line is Sketchy, Guilt, Betrayal, Teenage Pregnancy, Hawaii, Hidden Pregnancy, Jealousy, Sex, Absence of Parent, Single Motherhood, Trauma, Oral Sex, Tension

Notes: I just watched Elvis again and now I’m sobbing. Good job this is a happy chapter innit fml

LINK TO ALL PARTS // LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST

‘Shit,’ Addison exclaimed as she noted the smoke now billowing out of the top of the toaster. She darted towards it, flicking the button which made the now charcoal-coloured bread pop up out of the top. With a sigh she grabbed it, wincing as it burned her fingertips before she dumped it in the trash can and popped another couple of pieces inside. She was distracted. She had been since last night; from the moment she had clapped eyes on him, Elvis.   Her heart ached at the thought of him. Then again it always hurt when she thought of him though admittedly it was less often these days. She thought about the way he had looked at her, his mind swimming as he took in every detail as if he was trying to put together a puzzle he didn’t have all the pieces for. Addison had all the pieces but the picture they made wasn’t exactly a rosy one which is why she had longed to get out of there the minute she could. It was why she had left when she was seventeen. Her mind flitted to the image of Jess stood beside them, watching them closely, her eyes just as confused as his had been. Jess.   She wondered if she knew.   ‘No,’ Addison thought, ‘no she would’ve said something.’   It was true. Her daughter wasn’t one to keep things from her. She was a good kid and being that it had always been the two of them they were closer than most mothers and daughters she knew. Then again, she hadn’t told her she was sneaking out of the house to go and see him perform. She didn’t even know she liked his music.   Addison had never played it outright, but she had never forbidden it either, fearing it would spark a curiosity in her daughter she didn’t want to ignite. His films had been played on TV and she’d heard his songs on the radio but it was only ever in passing. Even when he started doing shows in Vegas it wasn’t much of a concern since she rarely had cause to go into the city other than work and the acts in town didn’t really interest Jess. He wasn’t as popular with the younger generation as he once had been and when Jess had bragged about being a fan of The Rolling Stones or Led Zeppelin Addison couldn’t help but celebrate.   But now she was sneaking out of the house to see him. Allowing Addison to get back to an empty house after a twelve-hour shift only to find her daughter’s bed empty before receiving a phone call from some stranger telling her she was at a club. That wasn’t her daughter.   Which had to mean she had an ulterior motive for going right? A curiosity about something more than music? Whenever Jess had asked about her father Addison had remained vague. The details hurt too much to speak of in those early days and it wasn’t as though Jess would understand everything anyway. She was just a kid. She’d told her they had known each other for a couple of months but he was in the army and Addison had lost touch with him before she could tell him she was pregnant. That wasn’t entirely untrue she had just skirted over the fact she knew exactly where to find him should she want to.   Her mind was spinning, something that it had been doing all night which is why she was running on coffee and nerves only. She didn’t even hear Jess enter the kitchen until she heard her name called.   ‘Mom?’ she heard Jess say and she turned around from the kitchen counter to find her daughter, still in her pyjamas, watching her nervously from the kitchen door. ‘Sit down,’ Addison said finding her throat surprisingly dry, ‘breakfast will be a minute.’   As Addison turned back to the counter, grabbing the fresh pieces of toast out of the toaster as she did, Jess watched her closely. She didn’t know what was happening. Where was the yelling? Where was the punishment? Not only had there been no freakout but she was making her breakfast as if it was any other day. Jess was bewildered but feeling she’d kick things off if she didn’t listen to what her mother said she took a seat at the kitchen table just as Addison plonked a plate of bacon, eggs and toast down in front of her.   ‘You should eat,’ Addison said quietly. ‘I’m not hungry,’ Jess said feeling another round of nausea bubble inside her at the sight of the food on her plate. Her mother turned to eye her. ‘It’ll help soak up the alcohol,’ she said wryly, ‘besides if you’re gonna throw up again you’d rather have something on your stomach. Trust me.’ ‘You heard me throw up?’ Jess said a vague memory of practically crawling to the bathroom around four thirty am flashing into her mind. ‘Why do you think I didn’t hit you with any yelling yet?’ Addison asked as she slipped into her chair, ‘I’m not that mean.’   ‘So you’re saving it all for this morning huh?’ Jess asked nervously receiving a sigh from her mother. She didn’t look at her, she was too nervous too, so even though she felt horrendous she tucked into her eggs trying not to vomit as they slid down her throat. ‘I’m not going to yell at you,’ Addison said which finally made Jess look up, surprise dancing across her features. ‘You’re not?’ Jess asked, ‘but I thought-’ ‘You’re a kid,’ Addison shrugged, ‘kids do dumb stuff. It’s nothing none of your friends won’t do at some point. I’m just happy it didn’t go worse than it could have. I mean you’re lucky I was at home when the guy called, I was just about to come trawl the streets looking for you.’   Jess nodded trying to ignore the guilt that settled in as she spotted the worry on her mother’s face.   ‘I just…I just want to know why,’ Addison said. It wasn’t what she wanted to ask but she couldn’t exactly fire on all cylinders. Especially if there was a chance Jess didn’t know. That was the reason she’d done it in the first place. To protect her. ‘I don’t know,’ Jess admitted, ‘I mean the only ticket I could get was for the midnight show and I figured there was no way you’d let me go so…I snuck out. And then there was this guy and he asked if I wanted to join them and well, I didn’t know how to say no. So I went.’ ‘This guy who?’ her mother asked unsure of what to ask. She wondered who had invited her. Was it Elvis? One of the boys? She’d seen them around – had one of them recognised Jess but not known why? As question after question popped into her brain Jess spoke. ‘His name’s Rick...’ she said easing Addison’s tension at the unfamiliarity of the name, ‘I didn’t even really like him that much. I just didn’t want to seem lame, y’know?’ ‘Well I can’t say I’m thrilled you’d just go off with some random boy you’d never met but I understand,’ Addison sighed. She did understand. More than her daughter knew.   ‘What I don’t understand,’ Addison started making Jess’s eyes find hers, ‘is why you didn’t just tell me. I mean I didn’t even know you liked…him.’   She couldn’t say his name. It was ironic given the amount she had been thinking about him since last night but uttering the words in front of Jess felt unnatural. Not unnatural, but as though she was admitting something she didn’t want to.   ‘Oh,’ Jess said as nonchalantly as she could, ‘I didn’t. Not until recently. Some of the girls and I watched a couple of his films over the Christmas break and I thought his voice was good. We all tried to get tickets but I was the only one who could and well I figured you’d never let me go on my own at night, so I just didn’t mention it.’ ‘Well next time tell me, okay? And maybe we can arrange something that will give me a little less of a heart attack,’ Addison said gulping down the rest of her coffee so she had an excuse to leave the table. As she washed her cup her mind raced. Jess didn’t know. That was something.   Jess watched her mother by the sink feeling horrendously guilty. She had lied to her, and it had tripped off her tongue so easily. She wanted to come clean, to confess that it wasn’t her friends that had sparked an interest in her but something else. She wanted to ask why her mother had been so concerned last night, why Elvis had looked at her the way he had. ‘Mom?’ she asked feeling the questions bubbling to the surface. ‘Yeah?’ Addison said turning around but once her hazel gaze was on Jess’s face she couldn’t bring herself to say anything. ‘Never mind,’ she said. Addison nodded as she glanced at her watch. ‘Come on, eat up and get dressed. I’ll run you to school,’ Addison said. ‘Wait I have to go in?’ Jess asked in disbelief. ‘It’s your first day back,’ Addison said simply. ‘I’ve been throwing up,’ Jess said as if it was self-explanatory. The nausea was settling a little bit but she still felt too tired and rough to even contemplate sitting through six hours of lessons. ‘Unfortunately I can’t write notes for hangovers,’ Addison said raising her eyebrow, ‘besides think of school as the lighter alternative to getting grounded.’ ‘This is non-negotiable huh?’ Jess asked. ‘Not a chance,’ Addison said as she headed towards the kitchen door, ‘I’ll be waiting in the car.’   ✵✵✵   Elvis was tired, a feeling that was made worse as he came out of his bathroom only to find the curtains of his suite were now wide open, forcing the low winter sun into his eyes and making him wince. Though however exhausted he felt he didn’t seem half as tired as Jerry looked. He was standing at the piano, looking out of the view of the city but he turned around as he heard Elvis enter the room, a solemn look on his face. That was when it all came flooding back.   Addison. Last night he had seen Addison, for the first time in fifteen years.   And then she was gone, running from him before he could even get his thoughts into place. Running from him with her daughter in tow. Her daughter.  Her fourteen-year-old daughter. That Elvis remembered.   It wasn’t that he had forgotten. How could he, after all, meeting the daughter of your ex who disappeared from the face of the earth fifteen years ago wasn’t exactly something that would slip your mind. He just hadn’t woken up properly yet. He didn’t even know how long he’d managed to sleep and though it didn’t feel like long the sinking sun in the sky begged to differ. After Addison had left Elvis had headed back to the hotel with only Sonny, Red and Jerry in tow, but once he was back in his suite he couldn’t sleep. He spent hours pacing in his room as he thought of question after question, too many of them to count.   The biggest one burned in his brain like the girl’s familiar face and bright blue eyes had for most of the night. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to ask it. He couldn’t bring himself to believe that if she was his Addison would’ve kept it from him.   Maybe that was why she hadn’t come back. Maybe after he’d left she’d met someone else and got knocked up, too ashamed to come back and tell him. Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe she had just wanted to leave and the kid had just happened straight after that, after all, all he knew was that she was fourteen she could have been born months out of the window for her to be his.   But still, the thought niggled at him.   Which was why he had asked Jerry to see if he could find her again. At least now he knew where to start looking.   As he moved into the room Jerry watched him like he had last night with concern and sympathy in his eyes. He had been the only one Elvis had permitted to stay in the room, much to the boys’ annoyance, and though he hadn’t said much he had allowed Elvis to offer up any thought and feeling he might have had without interjection.   ‘You got anything?’ Elvis asked moving past him towards the drinks cart in his room. He uncapped a bottle of vodka not even bothering to pour it into a glass before he swigged it down the sting of it in his throat waking him up just a tad. ‘Not much,’ Jerry said as Elvis moved to stand next to him, ‘I mean there’s a dozen Goodwins in the phone book. I’ve ruled most of them out, a couple didn’t answer so there’s a possibility there. I mean that’s if she’s still using her-‘ he faltered. Elvis glanced at him as realisation dawned on him. If she was still using her maiden name. Jerry cleared his throat uncomfortably before he pressed on, ‘anyway, that wasn’t what I noticed.’ ‘Oh yeah? What’ve you got Columbo?’ Elvis asked raising an eyebrow. ‘An address,’ Jerry said smirking at his friend’s quip as he placed a map down on the top of the piano. There were a couple of spots circled, others crossed out where his friend had ruled them out as possibilities but he was pointing to one circled not too far from the hotel. ‘A hospital?’ Elvis asked. ‘Desert Springs,’ Jerry said, ‘I remembered she was wearing a uniform, a nurse’s one. So I thought I’d chance it and what do you know, they’ve got an Addison Goodwin who works there. Starts her shift, oh, half an hour ago.’ ‘You don’t say,’ Elvis said feeling a smile creep onto his face. It looked like he was finally going to get some answers.   It didn’t take him long to get ready after that. Whilst Jerry went to arrange a car to get there Elvis showered and changed, his mind on Addison the entire time. The questions swirled in his mind once more. The more he thought about it though, the more concerned he got, and the more unsure he became about what he wanted the answers to be.   That uneasiness didn’t lift all the way over to the hospital. Thankfully no one seemed to notice their arrival though he didn’t know if that was because he remained tucked behind Sonny and Red as they walked through the halls or because Jerry had put in a word to keep it as low-key as possible. Whilst Jerry offered directions to Red and Sonny Elvis stayed quiet keeping his eyes trained on the men’s backs in front of him. That was until he heard Jerry say, ‘this should be the one.’ ‘You see her?’ Sonny asked looking around the long corridor as if she was just going to appear in front of him. Elvis looked up, his stomach flip-flopping as he noted there were people around and none of them were her.   ‘308 wants pain meds,’ he heard a voice say and he looked towards the nurses’ station up the corridor. There was a nurse standing behind it, young and attractive, though the aggravated look on her face made her look older than she was. She was holding a folder out and he watched as Addison glided into view and took it out of her hand. She opened it flipping through the pages inside it, unaware that she was being watched. Her hair was swept back from her face and she was wearing a crisp white uniform though it was offset by a pink cardigan, no doubt trying to keep the chill of the corridor off her. She looked beautiful.   ‘He always wants pain meds,’ Addison sighed, ‘I’ve told him the doctor will only prescribe so much.’ ‘Yeah well, you didn’t hear what he promised him on rounds this morning. He said all he had to do was ring his bell and one of us would be happy to-’ her fellow nurse said trailing off as she looked up and clocked Elvis standing there watching them. Addison’s brows knitted together as her friend’s voice disappeared though she quickly discovered the cause.   ‘Hey,’ Elvis said as he stepped forward, a gentle smile on his face as he tried to signal that he came in peace, but her face fell into a scowl. ‘Addie-’ her friend said but it was no use, Addison whipped around the nurses’ station and grabbed him by the arm pulling him away from the boys and her colleague until they were out of earshot. Elvis allowed himself to be dragged, trying to ignore the way her grip pinched at his skin through his sleeve.   ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she snapped as she moved to stand in front of him. ‘I came to talk,’ Elvis said as if it were obvious. ‘I have nothing to say to you,’ she said folding her arms across her. Elvis watched her for a moment, the anger in her eyes as she looked at him. It was like the way she had looked at him the first time he had run into her again back at that fair. The way she had looked at him when he had tried to talk her into coming to live at Graceland. ‘Yeah, well, I have plenty. Most of them questions,’ he said irritably, ‘like what the hell is going on?’ ‘You need to leave,’ she said sternly. Elvis felt his uneasiness turn to anger. No matter what the explanation he still deserved to get one, right? ‘No,’ he said firmly, ‘I ain’t going anywhere. I mean you honestly expect me to just be happy with no explanation after you disappear into thin air for fifteen years without so much as a see you later-‘ ‘It wasn’t like that,’ she protested. ‘What was it like then, huh?’ he asked. ‘You have no idea,’ she said clenching her jaw to keep herself from crying. She could feel tears stinging at her eyes but they kept at bay. She wasn’t some kid anymore. And she certainly wasn’t going to cry in front of him.   ‘So tell me,’ Elvis said his tone softening a touch as he noticed the tears glinting off her lash line in the harsh hospital lighting. Addison looked at him and for a moment he thought he had won her over, that she was going to concede. ‘You need to leave,’ she said tightly his hopes crashing down around him. She may have looked just like that seventeen-year-old he had been able to smooth talk around but the woman looking back at him was by no means that girl. There was something harder to her, like a veneer he couldn’t crack. Like a mask slipping into place. Still, he tried to protest, ‘no, not until you tell me what’s going on.’ ‘No,’ she said, ‘you know what? No. You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to come back into my life and demand answers like you did when I was seventeen years old. You turned my life upside down then and I sure as hell won’t let you do it now.’ ‘Why because you’ve got a kid now? A kid who’s what? Fourteen?’ he asked pointedly making her eyes go wide. Addison could feel her heart hammering inside her chest as she looked at him staring down at her with those questioning blue eyes. Eyes that looked so much like Jess’s it hurt.   ‘Don’t,’ she said though it was little more of a whisper. ‘Addie please,’ he said quietly hoping that her tone was a good sign. Hoping that he’d broken her walls down even if just an inch. ‘If you don’t leave now I’ll call security. Doubt that’ll be good for image,’ she said sarcastically, pulling away from him. Elvis looked at her, the last dig hitting him in his gut. There were more people in the hall now and though they were separated from most of them by the boys, who had placed themselves strategically around them should anyone want to walk through, when he glanced to his side he spotted a security guard watching them, Sonny’s hand on the man’s chest as he tried to get closer.   ‘Everything alright?’ he asked looking at Addison first. She wrapped her arms around herself and nodded. ‘He was just leaving,’ Addison said and before Elvis could protest she strutted past him pushing through Red and Sonny and into a room behind the nurse’s station. Elvis sighed. So much for getting answers.     ✵✵✵   Addison pulled into her driveway and cut the ignition, watching as the headlights faded away leaving her staring at her garage door. Her gaze was fixed for a moment as she tried to tell her feet to move, but they wouldn’t. She was too tired not that it was anything to do with her second late shift of the week. No, this exhaustion was something else entirely. After seeing Elvis yet again she was emotionally drained. Still, sitting in her car wasn’t going to fix that so after grabbing her bag off the front seat she climbed out.   No sooner had her foot hit the concrete than her name was being called and she looked up to find Elvis making his way across the road from a car parked opposite her house. Addison hurried her movements, forcing the key to turn in the lock quickly as she attempted to scurry up her driveway.   ‘Addison,’ he called as he reached her garden, the gravel of her front yard crunching under his foot as he hurried towards her. ‘What? Stalking me at work wasn’t enough now you have to come to my home?’ she asked though she didn’t slow down. She was at her front door now, turning the key in the lock as quickly as she could. ‘We need to talk,’ Elvis said indignantly. ‘I have nothing to say to you,’ she said as the door unlatched and she stepped inside. When she turned around to close it though he was on her front step. ‘Yeah? Well you don’t get to decide that,’ he said putting his foot in the door as she tried to slam it closed in his face, ‘Addison stop.’ ‘Elvis,’ she said feeling the emotional roller coaster she had been on all day hit a new peak. Except now it wasn’t anger like she had felt at the hospital. Now it was fear. He was at her home and Jess was upstairs in bed. It was too close. Too real. ‘No Addison,’ he said sternly, ‘you can’t run away from me. Not again.’ ‘I can’t do this,’ she said feeling her heartbeat in her ears, ‘you can’t be here.’ ‘Addie please,’ Elvis said though the authority was gone from it now. He wasn’t demanding, he was begging. ‘I didn’t run away to hurt you. I did it to protect me. From this, from all of this,’ she said brokenly, ‘don’t you see that?’ ‘Did you think you could run forever?’ he asked looking at her expectantly, ‘you had to know this would happen.’ ‘You weren’t supposed to know,’ she said her breath hitching in her chest as she looked at the heartbreak on his face. ‘Addie,’ he breathed. ‘Please just go,’ she said feeling her own voice beg this time. ‘Addie, is she?’ he asked. He couldn’t bring himself to say the words, to utter them out loud. ‘I can’t,’ she whispered as tears started to spill over and down her cheeks. Elvis could feel tears forming in his own eyes but he closed them, his jaw clenching to prevent the dam from breaking before he asked again. ‘Is she?’ he didn’t need an answer. The look on her face was enough. It was one of heartache, guilt and sorrow. ‘Please just go,’ she begged, ‘please.’   Elvis looked at her, feeling the anger and determination that had been stirring inside of him as he waited in the car outside her house for her to arrive home melting away when he saw how vulnerable she looked. It was a look he had seen before. When it came down to it, she couldn’t pretend, not with him. He didn’t say anything but he pulled back allowing her to push the door closed in front of his face. Addison fell against it, her head resting on the wood as tears streamed down her face.   ‘Mom?’ she heard Jess call and when she turned around her daughter was standing at the top of the stairs watching her worriedly. Addison’s hands flew to her face so she could push her tears away before she moved towards the kitchen where Jess couldn’t see her.   ‘What are you doing up? You should go back to bed you’ve got school,’ she called before she disappeared out of the girl’s sight. She could hear her daughter moving down the stairs, but she busied herself with the coffee machine as if she needed to add caffeine to the situation. Jess watched her mother from the kitchen door that guilt from earlier returning as she noted the way Addison tried to keep herself together, her chest moving unevenly as she tried to suppress the sobs from inside her.   ‘Mom?’ Jess said again though Addison didn’t reply this time, ‘it was him, wasn’t it?’ ‘You should be in bed,’ Addison stated still refusing to look at her daughter. However, Jess didn’t listen to her mother and instead inched into the kitchen hoping she was brave enough to say what she needed to.   ‘He’s my dad, isn’t he?’ she said quietly. That made Addison turn around. Her hazel eyes were wide with disbelief as she tried to make her daughter’s words register in her brain. They wouldn’t compute though. ‘How did you-’ she said trailing off as she looked at Jess who was now shifting uncomfortably, the guiltiest look on her face. Addison’s heart ached. She had found out and from someone other than the one person it should’ve been.   ‘Oh Jessie,’ she said moving to envelop her daughter who hugged her back, still feeling guilt swirl inside her. They stayed there for a moment, hugging in the middle of the kitchen, until Addison felt her heartbeat settle just a touch but enough that she could move them to the kitchen table. Jess took a seat beside her, almost chewing her lip off with nerves as her mother’s gaze fell on her.   ‘I don’t even know what to ask,’ Addison said after a minute, ‘I mean how did you…’ ‘I found a box of pictures a-at Aunt Marci’s over Christmas b-break,’ Jess said quickly as if she was on trial and had to get her defence out as quickly as possible. As if her mother wouldn’t blame her if she thought Marci’s carelessness was to blame. Yet as she clocked her mother’s patient expression, she realised she didn’t need to. ‘Go on,’ Addison said quietly trying to ignore how her heart squeezed tighter in her chest at the sound of Jess’ stammering, something that only happened when she was nervous. ‘There were pictures of the two of you together…you guys looked like a couple. The date said 1957 and…I mean I knew you were from there but I wondered why you’d never said anything, so, I did some digging,’ she said dropping her gaze to her lap though Addison remained silent, ‘and I found out all these things about him…that he was in the army. And well, I started thinking.’   Addison watched her closely, their eyes meeting as Jess finally looked back up her face still full of nerves as she continued.   ‘I guess I didn’t believe it at first. I mean Elvis Presley my dad yeah right,’ she scoffed, making Addison frown, ‘that’s why I went to the concert. I thought if I saw him on stage I’d just know y’know? But I didn’t, not really. Then I met him and it was like I knew but not enough…I didn’t know until I saw the pair of you. The way you looked so scared…I knew.’ ‘Oh honey,’ Addison sighed as guilt coursed through her. ‘I’m sorry,’ Jess said quietly. ‘What are you sorry for?’ Addison asked confused. ‘I…I didn’t know it’d hurt you like this,’ Jess admitted pushing a new wave of guilt through Addison which worsened still as she said, ‘mom, is he a bad guy?’ ‘What? Oh, honey no,’ she said with a sigh, ‘no, it’s not him…but the world he lives in, it’s not like our world Jessie.’ ‘That’s why you didn’t tell me?’ Jess asked. She was feeling braver now. She’d gotten out everything she had wanted to say and her mother hadn’t shut her down, and though that was something she still had questions burning inside her though. ‘I didn’t do it to hurt you,’ Addison said quietly, ‘but there was no way I, we, could stay in that world. You gotta understand baby, I was a seventeen-year-old kid with this amazing little girl. And I wanted to protect you. I didn’t have anyone to protect me but I could do that for you.’ ‘Did he hurt you?’ Jess asked feeling an uneasy shift inside her at her mother’s words. ‘Not him,’ Addison said. It wasn’t a full answer but it was the only one she felt as though she could give. After all, she’d spent the past fourteen years protecting her daughter she wasn’t going to stop now. But she could see the confusion in her daughter’s eyes so she did offer something to try to help, ‘it’s a long story and you don’t need to hear everything…. not yet. But he didn’t hurt me. If it was just him maybe I could’ve gone back but I couldn’t risk that.’ ‘Are you mad he knows?’ Jess asked. Addison took a deep breath and shook her head. ‘I guess it was always gonna come up eventually. I just figured I’d have a little while longer. That it’d be your decision when you were a grown-up,’ she admitted. She could see the cogs turning in her daughter’s mind, questions popping up before they disappeared again and Addison had to make a conscious effort to remember to breathe. Finally, she watched as the question she wanted to ask landed.   ‘Are you saying I can’t see him again?’ Jess asked nervously. ‘Jess,’ Addison sighed. She didn’t know why but this was the question she was least prepared for. ‘I know it’s not going to be easy,’ Jess said quickly, ‘but I want to.’ ‘Baby I don’t know,’ Addison said hoping her daughter wouldn’t feel too dejected. It had been what she was protecting her from all her life and here her daughter was wanting to dive in headfirst, ‘you don’t understand what it’s like. The press, the fans, everything. It’s a lot to deal with. I don’t think that kind of pressure is good.’ ‘But you do know what it’s like,’ Jess said quickly, ‘and you know me. You said yourself you didn’t have anyone to protect you from all that but I have you right? ‘Of course you do,’ Addison said but Jess was on a roll. ‘And I know that whatever happens, you’ll protect me,’ she said her blue eyes watching Addison with hope, ‘Mom…I really want to meet him. I mean I love you don’t get me wrong and I wouldn’t trade you in for anything but…I really wish I had a dad sometimes…you get that, right?’ ‘More than you know,’ Addison admitted her mind flashing to her father for just a moment before Jess’ small questioning voice spoke once more.   ‘So, can I? Can we at least try?’ she said watching Addison with pleading eyes. One’s that she could feel herself yielding to, ‘and if it all goes wrong and it’s awful you can say I told you so till the cows come home.’ ‘Oh honey it’s not that I want it to go wrong,’ Addison said grabbing her daughter’s hands in her own as she looked at her, ‘I just worry you’ll get hurt if it does.’ ‘But I’ve always got you…right?’ ‘Right,’ Addison nodded. That was true, no matter what happened Jess would always have her. ‘So can we? Please?’ Jess asked her breath holding in her chest as she waited for her mother to answer. Addison thought about it for a moment, everything inside her screaming no until she took one look at her daughter’s face. Protection was one thing but what good was it if it made her miserable in the process?   ‘We can try,’ she said quietly as Jess leapt forward and wrapped her arms around her practically winding her, ‘but I’m not promising a thing.’ ‘Thank you,’ Jess said excitedly. ‘And I’m speaking to him first,’ Addison added, ‘before anything happens.’ ‘Yeah I know,’ Jess said nodding against her shoulder making whatever authority Addison felt inside her melt away as she doubted Jess was even really listening to her. ‘And don’t pin all your hopes up on this okay,’ Addison said. ‘I won’t,’ Jess said before adding quietly, ‘is that a yes?’ ‘It’s a we can try,’ Addison said as Jess pulled back though she was unable to shake the excitement from her face as she looked at her mom. ‘Okay,’ Jess said with a smile, ‘I love you.’ ‘I love you too,’ Addison said placing a hand on Jess’ cheek before she shook her head reality dawning on her, ‘you should go back to bed.’ ‘Okay,’ Jess said moving out of her mother’s grasp so she could get up. She moved to the door, lingering by it as Addison watched her.   ‘Night mom,’ she said with a smile. ‘Night sweetheart,’ Addison said offering her one in return though it was a touch more forced. Once she had disappeared up the stairs and she had heard her door latch closed Addison moved to shut the kitchen door before she moved to the phone. She tried to ignore how her hands shook as she grabbed the directory off the shelf below the phone, flipping through it until she found the number listed for the International Hotel.   Though the reception desk picked up straight away once she was patched through the phone rang out, making nerves bubble inside her. She hoped he’d answer soon before her nerves took hold and she hung up. If she didn’t do it now she never would.   Finally the line clicked on and a voice mumbled, ‘hello?’ ‘Jer?’ Addison asked her nerves calming a little now he was on the line. ‘Addie is that you?’ he said she could hear him scrambling to get seated other end, ‘hang on, we’ve just got back he’s in his suite but I can get him just wait a minute-’ ‘No,’ Addison said making the man stop whatever moving he was doing, ‘it’s you I wanted.’ ‘Me?’ Jerry asked. ‘I need to see him,’ she said simply. ‘Do you want me to bring him back over?’ ‘No, no,’ Addison said quickly, the thought of him actually inside her house making her freak out. No, at his hotel she could still keep their worlds separate should anything go wrong, ‘I’ll come to you. I have a day off tomorrow.’ ‘Right,’ Jerry said. ‘But I want to see him alone,’ she stated hoping the other man would agree, ‘no one can know, okay?’ ‘Okay,’ Jerry said tentatively. He was making deals he wasn’t sure he should be but he was sure that Elvis wouldn’t mind, not if it got her within reach again. ‘I’ll meet you at the hotel,’ she said, ‘the lobby, is 2 pm okay?’ ‘That’s fine,’ Jerry said scribbling a note on the pad beside his bed as if it would slip his mind though he knew it wouldn’t. Addison lingered twirling the phone cord around her finger nervously as she tried to finish what she wanted to say. Her other stipulation. ‘And Jer,’ she said. ‘Yeah?’ ‘Don’t tell him,’ she said though it sounded more like a plea than a statement. Jerry felt an uneasiness wash over him, the same kind of uneasiness he had felt when he had watched his best friend walk back to the car heartbroken. ‘Addie,’ he sighed, ‘I don’t know.’ ‘Please Jer,’ she said. She needed him to agree. She knew it was a selfish request but it wasn’t as though she was doing it to spite him. She wasn’t asking him to do it because she longed to ambush Elvis, the way he had her, but because she wanted to know she still had an out. If she needed it, she could still run. ‘2 pm,’ Jerry said, ‘he’ll be there.’

[gideongrovel]

Bro 👏🏾 is 👏🏾 yapping 👏🏾 about 👏🏾 that 👏🏾 man 👏🏾 again!!! 👏🏾

I wish I could remember more about what my thoughts on E/nel were when I first watched S/kypiea all those years ago,,,,, i was like what 10?? maybe 11? maybe 12?? idk maths isn't mathing,, and idr if I met him first through the Funi dub, or though my copy of Grand Adventure on gamecube, or the manga itself I can't blame myself for not remembering since its been so fucking long,,, and OP is one of those things that's quite literally always been apart of my life,,,,, my obsession coming and going in waves, but still,,, idr it never not being a thing in my life,,,, 😭

but anywhoooo I have figured out a couple small pieces to the puzzle of why i have snapped all these years later, and why i want that man (E/nel)!!! Okay so since in my youth I use to ship with Z/oro (I do not anymore, i personally feel too grown for him, and im just not into him in a shippy way anymore) but when I was younger and into Z/oro, his S/kypiea outfit was my absolute favorite (gonna mention Grand Adventure again- id always pick that as his outfit in that game lol), but i think that was my main focus when watching/rewatching that arc back then lmao,,, And while im not religious now, i use to be a christian when i was younger,,, so E/nel's whole god shtick probs was an ick to me back then,,,, so thats also a potential reason of why i didnt feel any shippy feels to him when i was younger,,,, 🤔

but now in this current day and age,,, those barriers weren't there,,,,, god complexes are hot to me- i love blasphemy and i didnt have someone else drawing my attention,,,, so i think thats a couple reasons of why these feels arose,,, My preferences with characters i lust after is different now then it was back then, and he checks alot of boxes for me "maybe, just maybe, its mental illness innit" so its not surprising when i really think about it,,,,,, its just funny it took over a decade to like smack me in the face,,,,, especially cause ive seen the arc many of times so i had many chances for it to happen 😭😭😭

i cant find it but i saw diagram once, it was like two separate lines meeting, then going their separate ways, then meeting back up again,,, and thats what this feels like??? not in like a rekindled old flame way,,,, cause he never was a flame, he was just someone i knew,,,, idk i guess its more like an "Oh. Oh." moment,,, like actually catching romantic feel for him (and not just sexual ones like i originally thought it was) has felt kinda comforting in some odd way??? that may sound off the wall given the type of character he is lmao,,,,,

But my thoughts are like it was a "wrong place, wrong time" back in the day,,,, but now,,, now we found our ways back to each other, it may have taken some time but things have aligned perfectly,,, and we're together now, and that is what matters in the end,,,,

idk what im on about truly,,,, articulating my emotions for this man feels *make vague idk gesture* if you wasted your time reading this im legit sorry 💀 I just love E/nel alot,,,, and this development of feelings these past couple months has my head spinning

[the-disaster-in-waiting]

The Seamstress & The Baker (Part IV) (Peeta Mellark X Reader)

(Y/N) never knew when Peeta would return. If he would return? The capital held so many dark memories, almost a grave he could choose to visit or leave to rot and never rekindle the play he put on for it.

She kept replaying the games in her mind the fear and trepidation at Peeta’s choice to team up with the careers, his hunting Katniss. Her anger that he would hurt her. Her relief when she was able to escape and shock, fear and sickness in her stomach cause a small bout of sickness to jump out of her when she thought Peeta may die.

Stabbed alone painted to hide among rocks by a stream. And the poor sweet girl from district 11. Rue she’d met her once or twice as they’d pass each other in halls her small smile, always alert to those around her she was sweet, wearing a beautiful puffy dress. (Y/N) smiled at the reminder of her twirling backstage at the small joy of such a privilege to wear what the capital would call an easy breakfast dress.

At that she turned off her tv. Hiding in a fortress of blankets and pillows she cried. It was different being so close. When she’d watch with her father in the years past she kept distance from them. Her father, the seamstress who handled all she never met the tributes, only seeing them through a screen.

But knowing them, their names, personalities and lives hurts too much. How could she handle losing Peeta? She didn’t think she could.

When Katniss finally found Peeta (Y/N) cried with joy glad they kept safe together. She’d wished she could send something, anything to help them but she could barely help her father for the time being and with President Snow so upset with her part played in the stories circulating she couldn't take any chances.

Finally it was left down to Katniss and Peeta (Y/N) gasped kneeled right next to her screen at the revelation her whole body tensed at the prospect of one or another and the part that hated herself was given all the material in the world when the smallest piece of her heart begged Katniss to let Peeta live. She knew he would never hurt Katniss and that he was too selfless to not try and hurt himself for her.

When she saw them walk out. Their first moments as two winners of the hunger games she whooped arms waving wildly and body not far behind so proud they’d been able to survive.

But as they walked fast past all of the crowd Peeta barely looked up from the floor. Same from Katniss her face fell, they’d survived but at what cost? Would they even want to be here? Hands held tightly together they moved to the train as Peeta turned them waving to the crowd behind them as the doors closed. No longer there, a fast train sent them straight back to their district to recover.

And (Y/N) proceed to wait.

-

Peeta couldn’t handle it. The nightmares, the scars. I mean for god sake he lost his leg. How was he meant to handle that?. Every night he had the same nightmare: Katniss, Cinna, Portia, Effie, Haymitch and (Y/N) now joining him in the hunger games. blood , death it was all too much every night waking in the empty house he could now call home. His family were eager to join him but after the fifth night woken by screams and holding him down so the scratches on his face couldn’t reach his brain.

He stared at the letters so many times. She’d written three before giving up. He felt ashamed but how could he answer any question she had when he couldn't even answer his own?

Who did he love? Was the story of loving Katniss a lie? He’d fallen for her the minute he met her in school dreaming of marrying her when older. But as time passed those feelings disappeared or at least he hoped they did. That day in the rain he knew what it meant to suffer, to be beaten with nothing and no one to rely on and that's why he knew he had to give her what he could, but was that all it was? Or were his old feelings helping make his decisions?.

When he met (Y/N) he knew she was pretty like Katniss; she was hardened from the tough decisions she’d made to survive. But unlike Katniss she liked him. She sat and talked with him sometimes so long the night would turn to morning strategizing and working together. She was astounded by his strength, moving her table to retrieve small buttons she dropped when sorting her boxes.

“That is perfect for you” she said smiling and going to try and grab a chair throwing it toward his head before he dutifully knocked it away. She laughed a short loud one before clapping and approaching him.

“Do that and no doubt the wives and widows will be falling over you” she held his head in one hand as she spoke. “Your pretty boy charms will help too, remember that” bopping his nose before shooing him out, closing the work room to return home.

He could only walk her till they reached his apartment. Whilst he wanted to continue he knew of the two she was better versed in the streets than him and she didn’t want him to be missing from walking too far down a dark road.

Each time they were alone she’d gently pat his forearm in thanks. Before disappearing and shouting back ‘sleep well Peeta do not fear the dark tonight, that is tomorrow's problem’.

-

When Haymitch got to know (Y/N) better he was able to see just how cunning she really was, her smarts lending way to more than her current career choice. But he saw the way her eyes darkened and tensed at the sight of President Snow even on a screen and knew, while they weren’t twins, their experiences lent to close cousins understanding the cruel uncle that would try and break their spirit anytime he saw them.

He could tell she cared for Peeta and that Peeta cared for her and Katniss his choices were a mixture of stupid and smart. With the coming visit to all districts he just hoped that the two victors could continue their play of affection and spare all their lives.

Peeta had begun to rely on Haymitch to read (Y/N)’s letters , never bothering to reply her choice of words and lack of emotion made it even harder for him to feel she even cared anymore how could she? He was promised to Katniss now in love forever in the eyes of the capital. Broken hobbling around with a false leg and scars covering his body he could barely stand to look at himself in a mirror. How could she? Or any woman for that matter?. Damaged, his own family fled from his terrifying screams at night unable to hold him back from inflicting his own damage to escape the visions.

Sometimes he thought it’d be easier to just follow Haymitch’s lead. He may be a drunk, unable to think even a single thought or act correctly but at least he wasn't aware of the walking nightmare they both lived.

[azir-018]

Fragments of a Broken Love (part 2/2)

warning: none

summary: Amidst a painful separation, Neymar unexpectedly reappears in your life, expressing his remorse and desire to rebuild what was lost. As you navigate the complexities of forgiveness and healing, you both embark on a journey to mend the fragments of your broken love. The story explores the power of resilience, hope, and the possibility of finding happiness in the face of past heartbreak.

Months had passed since that painful day, but the ache of separation still lingered within your soul. Memories of Neymar flooded your thoughts, each one a bittersweet reminder of the love you had shared.

Late one evening, as raindrops danced upon your windowpane, a knock at the door startled you from your melancholic reverie. With trepidation, you opened the door, and there stood Neymar, rain-soaked and with eyes filled with a mixture of hope and regret.

"I couldn't stay away," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've missed you every single day."

Conflicting emotions surged within you—painful memories intertwined with a glimmer of longing for what once was. But deep down, a spark of hope flickered, reminding you of the love that had once bound you together.

Tears streamed down your face as you found the strength to speak. "Neymar, why now? Why did you come back?"

He stepped closer, his voice trembling. "Because I've realized that a life without you is no life at all. I've learned from my mistakes, and I'm willing to fight for us, for our love."

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his words, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to hope, to believe that perhaps love could find a way back to you.

"But the pain we went through..." you started, your voice laced with uncertainty.

Neymar reached out and took your hands in his, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "I know we can't erase the past, but we can learn from it. Let's rebuild our love, piece by piece, and create something stronger, something that can weather any storm."

In that moment, you saw the sincerity in his eyes and felt the truth in his words. The decision was not an easy one, but love had a way of defying logic and embracing the possibility of second chances.

With a mixture of hesitation and hope, you took a step forward, closing the physical distance between you. Raindrops trickled down your faces as your lips met in a tender, desperate kiss—a kiss that carried the weight of past mistakes and the promise of a future forged in forgiveness.

The rain continued to pour, washing away the remnants of pain and heartbreak. Together, you and Neymar embarked on a journey of healing, acknowledging the cracks and scars that marked your love story, yet determined to mend them.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Through laughter and tears, you rebuilt the foundation of your love, layer by layer. The wounds of the past were not forgotten but rather transformed into reminders of the strength and resilience of your bond.

And as the rainbows painted the sky, reflecting the colors of a love rekindled, you and Neymar stood hand in hand, ready to face the world together. The road ahead might still hold challenges, but with each other by your side, you knew that love would guide you through, offering solace and support.

In the end, your love story had not been a perfect fairytale, but it was real, raw, and brimming with the beauty of two hearts that refused to give up. And as you looked into Neymar's eyes, you knew that the journey of rediscovering love was just the beginning—an opportunity to create a future that was even more beautiful than the past.

[jessread-s]

Thanks to NetGalley and Forever Publishing for providing me with an ARC in exchange for an honest review

✩🪻💍 Review:

Julie Soto’s debut novel is guaranteed to give you all the feels.

“Forget Me Not” is a second chance romance starring Ama Torres, a wedding planner, and Elliot Bloom, a grumpy florist. When Ama is hired to plan the largest wedding of her career, she quickly discovers that it won’t be all sunshine and roses. Elliot Bloom, her ex, has been contracted as the wedding floral designer and there is no working around him. Left with no choice but to put their complicated pasts behind them, the pair attempt to plan the perfect wedding. With love in the air, however, it’s hard for both Ama and Elliot to deny the chemistry between them.

From the very beginning I was rooting for Ama and Elliot to rekindle their romance and live out their happily ever after! Their alternating viewpoints allow the reader to piece together how they first met, the moment their workplace relationship turned into something more, and what ultimately led to their separation. Despite the rift between them, Soto makes it clear that the two still feel deeply for one another no matter how hard they try to limit their interactions during the planning of the wedding. I appreciated how Soto naturally intensified these feelings over the months they spent in proximity to each other. Though I was an emotional wreck while they slowly learned to love each other again, it was worth it just to read the epilogue!

Aside from Ama and Elliot’s romance, I enjoyed exploring Ama’s complex feelings about marriage. Soto adds depth to her character by slowly revealing that Ama, a wedding planer, believes that love does not last. Through Ama’s point-of-view, the reader traces this belief back to her mother, who has been married sixteen different times and views love the same way. This detail adds intrigue and gives much needed insight into the thought behind Ama’s every decision. I appreciate Soto taking her time with Ama’s character development as she changes her perceptions of love. Even more so I appreciate Elliot for telling Ama that she did not need to change everything about herself just to be with him.

I cannot wait to read Soto’s next book in 2024!

➤ 4.5 stars

Cross-posted to: Instagram | Amazon | Goodreads | StoryGraph

[spiritualdirections]

Ethan Hawke is directing a biopic of Flannery O'Connor called Wildcat. In the linked article, he takes to the pages of Vanity Fair to explain why.

His daughter Maya had discovered O'Connor's journals, rekindling Hawkes own interest in her that dated back to his youth, and together they started talking about making a movie. Then 2020 happened, and people tried to cancel O'Connor as being racist. Hawke got worried, until he started reading:

'I called Maya to talk over whether we should make this film. Is there a place in today’s cultural climate to tell the story of an American genius who also displayed abhorrent prejudices? What was O’Connor’s fundamental attitude toward people of color? Did the master provocateur’s tongue obscure her views or reveal them? 'Turns out, scholars have been examining O’Connor’s relationship to race since the 1970s. Alice Walker movingly describes O’Connor’s legacy in her essay “Beyond the Peacock: The Reconstruction of Flannery O’Connor,” written 45 years ago. '“Essential O’Connor is not about racism at all,” Walker writes, “which is why it is so refreshing, coming, as it does, out of such a racial culture. If it can be said to be ‘about’ anything, then it is ‘about’ prophets and prophecy, ‘about’ revelation, and ‘about’ the impact of supernatural grace on human beings who don’t have a chance of spiritual growth without it. … She destroyed the last vestiges of sentimentality in white Southern writing; she caused white women to look ridiculous on pedestals, and she approached her black characters — as a mature artist — with unusual humility and restraint. She also cast spells and worked magic with the written word. The magic, the wit, and the mystery of Flannery O’Connor I know I will always love.” 'In a 2001 New Yorker piece subtitled “Flannery O’Connor on Race and Religion in the Unreconstructed South,” cultural critic Hilton Als wrote, “Race and faith and their attendant hierarchies and delusions are O’Connor’s great theme. … But readings of this American master often overlook the originality and honesty of her portrayal of Southern whiteness. Or, rather, Southern whiteness as it chafed under its biggest cultural influence — Southern blackness. It’s remarkable to consider that O’Connor started writing … just a decade after Margaret Mitchell’s ‘Gone with the Wind.’ O’Connor’s most profound gift was her ability to describe impartially the bourgeoisie she was born into, to depict with humor and without judgment her rapidly crumbling social order.”

He and his daughter covered similar territory in their interview with the LA Times.

"In the last few years, there’s been a re-examination of O’Connor around issues of race in light of how she wrote about it privately when she was young. How did you grapple with presenting a nuanced depiction of her views of race and how they evolved in her life and work? "Ethan Hawke: Hopefully the movie answers that. This is a young person who grew up in the Jim Crow South, and that is her reality. I sometimes think when people are angry with Flannery O’Connor, what they mean is, “I am angry with America.” Because she is a great American artist and full of all the sin that that implies. There’s a great scholar who calls her a “recovering racist.” And America is in recovery from racism. "Linney: Some of America. "Ethan Hawke: Flannery doesn’t write about oppressed people. She doesn’t imagine that she knows what their experiences are. She knows white hypocrisy. And she writes about it because she knows it, meaning she lived it. She’s a part of it. She comes up from it. But if we don’t look at that, as a culture, we can’t see it around us, because it’s still here. "She was allergic to virtue signaling, which makes people really uncomfortable. My favorite line that we put in the movie was: 'The truth doesn’t change according to your ability to stomach it.'”

I'm not sure which is more interesting--that he chose to make this movie about a Catholic writer, or that he thinks the American people are able to make a complex judgment about complex people even when charges of racism have been made.