#am I allowed to cry? �� Again the word endured — finally the dream — the sand she still sees — he’s magic being steady — them talking time

[acourtofquestions]

Rowaelin Chapter 41 Kingdom of Ash:

She'd rebuild it—what she had been.

Perhaps one last time, perhaps only for a little while, but she'd do it. If only for Terrasen.

Rowan swooped from the mast, shifting as he reached her side at the rail. He surveyed the night-black sea beyond them. "You should rest." She slid him a glance. "I'm not tired." Not a lie, not in some regards. "Want to spar?" He frowned. "Training can start tomorrow."

"Or tonight." She held his piercing stare, matched his dominance with her own.

"It can wait a few hours, Aelin."

"Every day counts." Against Erawan, even a day of training would count.

Rowan's jaw tightened. "True," he said at last. "But it can still wait. There are ... there are things we need to discuss." The silent words rose in his animal-bright eyes. About you and me.

Her mouth went dry. But Aelin nodded In silence, they strode into their spacious quarters, its only decoration the wall of windows that overlooked the churning sea behind them. A far cry from a queen's chamber, or any she might have purchased as Adarlan's assassin.

At least the bed built into the wall looked clean enough, the sheets crisp and stainless. But Aelin headed for the oak desk anchored to the floor, and leaned against it while Rowan shut the door.

In the dim lantern light, they stared at each other.

She'd endured Maeve and Cairn; she'd endured Endovier and countless other horrors and losses. She could have this conversation with him. The first step toward rebuilding herself.

Aelin knew Rowan could hear her thundering heart as the space between them went taut. She swallowed once. "Elide and Lorcan told you... told you everything that was said on that beach."

A curt nod, wariness flooding his eyes. "Everything that Maeve said." Another nod.

She braced herself. "That I'm-we're mates."

Understanding and something like relief replaced that wariness. "Yes."

"I'm your mate," she said, needing to voice it. "And you are mine."

Rowan crossed the room, but halted a few feet from the desk on which she leaned. "What of it, Aelin?" His question was low, rough.

"Don't you..." She scrubbed at her face. "You know what she did to you, to ..." She couldn't say her name. Lyria. "Because of it."

"I do know."

"And?"

"And what do you wish me to say?"

She pushed off the desk. "I wish you to tell me how you feel about it. If…"

"If what?"

"If you wish it wasn't so."

His brows narrowed. "Why would I ever wish that?"

She shook her head, unable to answer, and stared over her shoulder toward the sea.

It seemed like he would close the distance between them, but he remained where he was.

"Aelin." His voice turned hoarse. "Aelin."

She looked at him then, at the pain in his words.

"Do you know what I wish?" He exposed his palms, one tattooed, the other unmarked. "I wish that you had told me. When you realized it. I wish you had told me then."

She swallowed against the ache in her throat. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Why would it ever hurt me to know the truth that was already in my heart? The truth I hoped for?"

"I didn't understand it. I didn't understand how it was possible. I thought maybe ... maybe you might be able to have two mates within a lifetime, but even then, I just ….." She blew out a breath. "I didn't want you to be distressed." His eyes softened. "Do I regret that Lyria was dragged into this, that the cost of Maeve's game was her life, and the life of the child we might have had? Yes. I regret that, and I wish it had never happened." He would bear the tattoo to remember it for the rest of his days. "But none of that was your fault. I will always carry some of the burden of it, always know I chose to leave her for war and glory, and that I played right into Maeve's hands."

"Maeve wanted to ensnare you to get to me, though."

"Then it is her choice, not yours."

Aelin ran a hand over the worn wood of the desk. "In those illusions she spun for me, she showed me variations on one more than all the others." The words were strained, but she forced them out. Forced herself to look at him. "She spun me one dreamscape that felt so real I could smell the wind off the Staghorns."

"What did she show you?" A breathless question.

Aelin had to swallow before she could answer. "She showed me what might have been—if there had been no Erawan, if Elena had dealt with him properly and banished him. If there had been no Lyria, none of that pain or despair you endured. She showed me Terrasen as it would have been today, with my father as king, and my childhood happy, and..." Her lips wobbled. "When I turned twenty, you came with a delegation of Fae to Terrasen, to make amends for the rift between my mother and Maeve. And you and I took one look at each other in my father's throne room, and we knew."

She didn't fight the stinging in her eyes. "I wanted to believe that was the true world. That this was the nightmare from which I'd awaken. I wanted to believe that there was a place where you and I had never known this suffering and loss, where we'd take one look at each other and know we were mates. Maeve told me she could make it so. If I gave her the keys, she'd make it all possible." She wiped at her cheek, at the tear that escaped down it. "She spun me realities where you were dead, where you'd been killed by Erawan and only in handing over the keys to her would I be able to avenge you. But those realities made me ... I stopped being useful to her when she told me you were gone. She couldn't get me to talk, to think. Yet in the ones where you and I met, where things were as they should have been ... that was when I came the closest."

His swallow was audible. "What stopped you?"

She wiped at her face again. "The male I fell in love with was you. It was you, who knew pain as I did, and who walked with me through it, back to the light. Maeve didn't understand that. That even if she could create that perfect world, it wouldn't be you with me. And I'd never trade that, trade this. Not for anything." He extended his hand. An offer and invitation.

Aelin laid hers atop his, and his callused fingers squeezed gently. "I wanted it to be you," he breathed, closing his eyes. "For months and months, even in Wendlyn, I wondered why you weren't my mate instead. It tore me up, wondering it, but I still did." He opened his eyes, and they burned like green fire. "All this time, I wanted it to be you."

She lowered her gaze, but he hooked a thumb and forefinger around her chin and lifted her face.

"I know you are tired, Fireheart. I know that the burden on your shoulders is more than anyone should endure." He took their joined hands and laid them on his heart. "But we'll face this together. Erawan, the Lock, all of it.

"We'll face it together. And when we are done, when you Settle, we will have a thousand years together. Longer."

A small sound came out of her. "Elena said the Lock requires—"

"We'll face it together," he swore again.

"And if the cost of it truly is you, then we'll pay it together. As one soul in two bodies.

Her heart strained to the point of cleaving. "Terrasen needs a king."

"I have no intention of ruling Terrasen without you. Aedion can have the job."

She scanned his face. He meant every word He brushed the hair from her face, his other hand still clasping hers to his chest, where his heart pounded a steady, unfaltering rhythm.

"Even if I had my choice of any dream-realities, any perfect illusions, I would still choose you, too."

She felt the truth of his words echo into the unbreakable thing that bound their very souls, and tilted her face up toward his. But he made no move beyond it.

She frowned. "Why aren't you kissing me?"

"I thought you might want to be asked first."

"That never stopped you before."

"This first time, I wanted to make sure you were ... ready." After Cairn and Maeve. After months of having no choices whatsoever.

She smiled despite that truth. "I'm ready to be kissed again, Prince."

He let out a dark chuckle and muttered, "Thank the gods," before he lowered his mouth to hers.

"You're my mate." Her words were a breathless rush. "And I am yours."

The world might have been burning around them for all she cared, all he cared, too.

"Together, Aelin," he promised, and she heard the rest of the words in every place their bodies joined. Together they would face this, together they would find a way.

Together we'll find a way, their mingling breaths, the crashing sea, seemed to echo.

Together.

[sagemoderocklee]

For the sweet moments I want all of them for our favorite pairing, but I guess I'll just have to go with 13 and 27 for Gaara/Lee please ❤️

so i actually ended up getting a bit carried away with prompt 13, so that’s under the cut. also like... sorry this sat in my inbox for like 2 years or something... maybe it was only a year and a half??? but still

[my kofi]

---

27. Accidentally Sleeping In [ao3]

There was a fog in his mind and his limbs felt heavy, strange, slow to move. He shifted against something warm and solid, something familiar and comforting, as his mind rose from the deep black of unconsciousness. Sound filtered into his awareness followed by a gentle touch against his forehead, fingers brushing back his hair to press lips against his scar. A gentle breeze, warm and tender, blew threw his hair as someone above him sighed.

He shifted, his mind moving slow, but his heart racing as recognition finally sparked: sleep had somehow overtaken him in the night.

Gaara’s eyes snapped open and his breathing came in ragged gasps. He jerked up, his head colliding with Lee’s nose as he tried to escape the confines of his drowsiness.

"Shh, it is all right,” Lee soothed, the hand over his nose muffling his words but not the affection in them.  

“What happened?” Gaara asked, panic squeezing his chest.

“You fell asleep,” Lee said, wonder hanging on each word. “I have never seen you sleep before.” Gaara’s head spun, the rising panic subsiding as he looked around his perfectly ordered room. There was no sand scattered about, no pieces of wreckage nor drops of blood, no sign that anything horrible had transpired while he slept. He looked out his window to see blue skies and the sun shining, its rays barely peaking over the walls that surrounded Sunagakure.

All was peaceful and quiet.

Lee watched him, caught between concern and adoration, his expression soft as it only ever was when he looked at Gaara. “Are you all right?” Words caught in his throat, but he finally pushed them out, his jaw working. “I... slept.” Lee smiled, leaning close to press his face into the crook of Gaara’s neck, kissing a small bruise there that he’d left the night before. He hummed contentedly in response, kissing that spot again as though he couldn’t quite get enough. Gaara closed his eyes, lifting his hand to tangle in Lee’s hair, a small pleased noise escaping him. Lee’s mouth against his neck was soothing, comforting, grounding, and Gaara relaxed fractionally.

“You were quite tired,” Lee mused into his neck, an arm snaking around Gaara’s waist, a note of mischief in his voice. His next words came soft and sweet, the awe returning as he said, “I liked watching you sleep.” Gaara turned into Lee, looking into his face. “I slept,” he repeated, disbelief in the flat notes of his own voice. “You did,” Lee confirmed, pressing their foreheads together.

“Nothing happened.”

Lee laughed, the sound vibrating through Gaara’s chest. “I would not have let it,” he assured, a calloused hand against Gaara’s cheek. “I watched over you.”

Gaara frowned. “Did you sleep?”

“I was quite tired as well,” he said with a laugh. “I woke to find you asleep beside me, instead of watching over me. I thought I should return the favor, since you always take such good care of me while I sleep.”

There was a pleased note in Lee’s voice, as though Gaara falling asleep had been a particularly wonderful treat he’d never expected.

Gaara pressed a kiss to Lee’s mouth, quiet thoughts racing through his mind. He’d slept and nothing had happened, no one had died, nothing had been destroyed; he’d slept and everyone was still safe. The only major consequence that he could ascertain from falling asleep was feeling more fatigued than usual and a little queasy. The world still felt slightly fuzzy at the edges, but Lee’s mouth against his was quickly chasing that away.

“What time is it?” Gaara asked against Lee’s mouth, barely pulling away from the kiss.

“Just before seven,” Lee said, his mouth following Gaara’s to capture his lips again.

“We should get up,” Gaara said reluctantly. He didn’t particularly feel like moving, the heaviness in his limbs and the fog in his mind and his unsettled stomach were certainly good enough reasons to stay in bed, but more than that Lee seemed perfectly content to spend a lazy morning in bed, kissing along Gaara’s neck and darkening the already purple bruise there.

Lee groaned, shifting closer. “Do we have to?”

“Don’t you have training to do?” Gaara asked, amusement barely hidden beneath his fatigue.

“I can think of a much better way to spend my morning,” he said, voice deep and warm as he kissed his way down Gaara’s chest.

Gaara smiled, winding his hands in Lee’s hair. “I suppose starting our day late would have its merits,” he acquiesced, allowing Lee to push him back against the pillows.

Lee smiled down at him, his eyes shining in the early morning light.

Gaara didn’t want to make it a habit, but he decided that seeing the morning from this perspective might not be so bad.  

----

13. A Sorry Kiss [ao3]

Lee believed in many things: love, determination, hard work, forgiveness. 

He believed that belief alone could overcome just about any obstacle; he believed that love held infinite power--the power to heal, the power to change hearts, the power to transcend lifetimes; he believed that he was unstoppable; he believed that he was splendid; he believed that someday someone would see in him endless possibilities--universes expanding and unfurling on an infinite loop of impossibility. 

He believed it with all his heart. 

But some hearts are more easily broken than others. Though he tried always to weather every storm that came his way, there were some things he simply couldn’t take. 

Falling in love with Gaara of the Desert, was not one of those unweatherable things, however, being rejected by him was. 

It was not that Lee was a stranger to rejection. He’d been rejected countless times in his life, and each time he’d thought, “I will be stronger the next time. Maybe next time, it will be different.” 

And it never was. 

But with Gaara it was different. With Gaara, it was a deep, abiding love. It was an eternal blossom, petals unfurling like a kaleidoscope as it flowered over and over in new and exciting ways. It breathed in him, took root in his heart, made him feel like he’d never felt before; like he’d never thought it was possible to feel. 

It had become too much to keep secret, though he’d tried for years, aware of the complications and the challenges, aware of the stigma and the scorn. He’d kept it to himself like his scars, but so much more precious and enduring. 

And then it had spilled from him, a mistake of the reckless and rash. 

Gaara had told him a flat and unequivocal no. 

Lee’s heart had been devastated. Shattered. Wrecked. Ruined. The petals of his love wilting over and over. There was an ache in his chest where his heart should have been. There was a dead, undying flower rotting in his soul. 

He cried. Not in front of Gaara. 

He waited. He apologized for his impropriety, for his bluntness, for his presumption. And he’d left. He didn’t ask if they could retain their friendship after this. He didn’t think he’d like the answer, though in hindsight that was probably the musings of a wounded man. 

Gaara had not been to Konoha since. Lee would never go to Suna again. 

And then one day, in the ever expanding universe of his life, there came a letter. It was a peace offering, an apology, a plea for forgiveness. Lee didn’t know how to read between the lines of Gaara’s precise letter writing, not the way he’d learned to read his minutiae of expression over their years of friendship and the years of falling steadily in love with him. 

Rock Lee,

I regret having left things the way we did. This past year, I have thought long and hard on what you said, and I have come to the realization that I was callous in my rejection of you. You spoke your heart, but your words fell on deaf ears. 

I hope that in time, I can mend whatever hurt I know I have caused, but I will accept the consequences of my thoughtlessness should you wish to remain distant. 

Your friend,��Gaara 

The edges of the letter were fraying now, its face dirtied by fingerprints and a desperate desire to understand. Lee wondered if he should reply, he wondered if he could bring himself to look at Gaara again. 

The hurt had wedged itself like glass in his still beating heart, cutting deeper and deeper each day.

He tried writing letters in reply. Nothing ever sounded right. 

He stared at his scarred hands, thought about the scars on his heart that Gaara had also inflicted, and wondered why he was doing this to himself. He could let this go. He could move on. He’d done it before. 

Finally, biting back tears and fighting to keep his hand steady, he wrote a simple letter back.

Thank you for your concern, Kazekage-sama. I am doing well, and I hope you are too. I understand that I behaved incorrectly. I should not have said those things. It was misguided and foolish. 

I do not begrudge you your rejection of my flights of fancy. 

Rock Lee

He’d kept it short, afraid that if he’d spent any longer on it he would break and the lie would come spilling from him like his guts. He sent it before he could second guess himself, and he’d forced himself to forget the whole ordeal. He’d hidden Gaara’s letter in his room, beneath a potted plant. 

And life went on, as it always did no matter the cuts and bruises he obtained.

His life fell into a steady rhythm of forgetting that he’d ever loved Gaara of the Desert. He told himself there were no flowers blooming eternal in his heart; he told himself that there was no glass to cut him and that the ache he felt was simply a pulled muscle; he told himself that when he woke up crying, it was not because he’d dreamed, once again, of familiar jade eyes and blood-red hair and the smallest, most wonderful smile he’d ever seen. 

Eventually it would stop--the pain, the longing, the love. It would go away. 

It had to.

Lee told himself that if he just believed it to be true, it would be. And so he told himself lies; told himself that he did not love Gaara anymore than he loved his other friends. Less in fact, he determined. Less. 

And then one day Gaara arrived on his doorstep, and it all came rushing back. The flood gates threatened to break; his heart tried to escape from the old roots of the wild flower growing unattended in his heart; the glass cut deeper. 

“Do you hate me?” Gaara rasped, as though he’d asked this question a hundred-thousand times. 

Lee’s eyes burned. “Not even a little,” he said through tears and the gnawing ache of his heart. “Not even if I wanted to.” 

Gaara’s expression shattered, something within him crumbling. “I--I don’t know how to love like that,” he said, his voice caught on the raw edges of his emotion. “I don’t understand how--how can you love me?” 

Somehow, it all made sense in that moment. Gaara hadn’t rejected Lee. He’d rejected himself, he’d rejected the notion that anyone could love him, because somewhere deep in his heart he still held onto the agony of a little boy all alone in the world.

“How?” Gaara asked, begged, pleaded. He didn’t understand. He hadn’t understood all this time, and Lee, so caught up in his own heartache, hadn’t ever thought to explain. 

“I am so sorry,” he choked out, reaching a tentative hand towards Gaara. He didn’t know if his touch would be welcome, didn’t know what he would do if it was. 

But Gaara seemed to want his touch. His sand sloughed away, revealing darker skin beneath, as he moved in desperate, jerky motions towards Lee’s outstretched hand. Lee froze as Gaara moved into him, as Gaara touched his face with curious fingertips. He wanted to understand, he needed to understand. 

“I wish it were as easy as words,” Lee said quietly, swallowing back emotion that tasted like blood. “I have only truly been in love the one time, you see.” 

Gaara’s fingers did not stop skating across Lee’s face, touching and seeking answers within Lee’s skin. “Show me,” he breathed.

Lee took a step back. “I do not think that is a good idea,” he said, placing his hands against Gaara’s chest to keep him at bay. “I would not want to take advantage of your confusion.” 

The tears that sprang to Gaara’s eyes were born of frustration as much as confusion. “I think about you,” he said, his voice a bare whisper. “I can’t stop. I don’t understand it. The things you said--how--what have you done to me?” 

Tears rolled down Lee’s face in answer, his lip trembling and his voice shaking as he said, “I have fallen in love with you.” 

Gaara shook his head, reaching for Lee, trying to pull him close. “I want to love you,” he said, the words like a gasp. “I just need you to show me.” 

Lee closed his eyes, letting his arms drop from Gaara’s chest so he could close the distance between them. Gaara’s mouth was desperate against Lee’s, a million questions passing from his lips into Lee. It was not a particularly good kiss, it was sloppy and painful and lacked finesse. 

He pushed at Gaara, as gently as he could, stuttering out words through the pain twisting in his chest that made it hard to breathe. “I am... so deeply sorry, Gaara.” 

Gaara shook his head, mutely, trying to pull Lee back to him. But Lee stood firm. He could not allow this to go any further. “Please,” Gaara begged. 

Lee felt that his heart was breaking all over again. “I am sorry, but... I cannot. I love you, I will always love you. But I cannot give you answers like this.” He stepped away, and the pain he felt was reflected back at him in Gaara’s eyes. 

He turned away, unable to stand the sight of the pain he’d caused without giving in, without trying to heal what he’d done. “I hope you can understand. I do not want to hurt you. I think we both need time.”

“That’s all we’ve had,” Gaara snarled, but he didn’t move for Lee. “What’s the point of saying you love me if you won’t show me.”  

Lee swallowed, his throat tight. “This is showing you,” he said quietly. “I know it does not make sense, but... please trust me. If you truly love me, then we can wait. I can wait.” 

“And what if I can’t?” 

Lee looked back over at Gaara, his eyes sad, his last ounce of strength fading. “Then I do not think you really love me.” 

Gaara fled. 

And Lee cried.

Lee believed in so many impossible and wondrous things. Gaara was as impossible and wonderous to Lee as anything ever could be. As impossible and wonderous as love; as beautiful as the unfurling petals of his undying flower; as splendid as the sky at sunset. Gaara was everything Lee could ever want and more.

And Lee believed, and Lee hoped, and Lee prayed that in time Gaara would be able to show him what this impossible feeling meant to him; that one day, Gaara would truly see the endless possibility of Lee and the expanding universes within him.

[lala-kate]

From End to Beginning:  Ch. 4

@drevazambrano....I am your Secret Admirer!  Happy Valentine’s Day from me and @lovefromoq!  You’re getting Chapter 4 today and Chapter 5 tomorrow, but if you haven’t been reading From End to Beginning, (ff.net link here )don’t worry. These two chapters can be read as stand-alones. I thought this story would fit the bill for someone who prefers mature, parental OQ and enjoys angst. 

And just so you know, FETB is Zelena free. :)

I’ll be posting both chapters on both AO3 and ff.net on tomorrow. I do hope you enjoy this, Amanda, and that your Valentine’s Day is fabulous. It was an honor and a joy to be your OQSA. 

XO--Laura

Mr. Locksley,

I know this message will come as quite a shock to you, but I’ve just learned of your existence, and I’d like to meet you if you’re agreeable to this suggestion. I’m currently staying with my birth mother at her house on Piper Beach, a place I’m told you know fairly well. I just met her yesterday, and it’s a bit overwhelming, as I’m certain you can understand. But she’s lovely, a real fighter, and last night she told me your name and in doing so gave me the final puzzle piece to my life.

You see, my name is Henry.  I’m twenty years old. And I’m your son.

Robin reads the email again, wondering if on the third reading the words will organize themselves differently. But they remain in the same order, the same meaning  searing into his mind and seeping into his pores, waking him up in a manner he’d never before experienced.

My name is Henry.  I’m twenty years old. And I’m your son.

Your son.

His son. Christ--he has a son?

His body tingles, his skin feels alive, the name Henry singeing veins and making him hot and cold at the same time. A son-his son. How long...why hadn’t...where did he...how in God’s name--?

Piper Beach.  My birth mother. His son’s birth mother.

Regina Mills.

Regina--his first love, his sole love, the only woman he’s ever regretted, the only woman with whom he’d ever shared his heart. He can’t eat shrimp or drink Coke without thinking of her, has avoided the beach religiously since that summer, knowing the pull of the incoming tide would lull him back into a past from which he’d be loathe to leave. He’d kept the sand dollar she’d given him, one they’d found near their cave, the cave where they’d lost their virginity, the cave where they’d evidently conceived a child.

A son. His son. Their son.

Christ. Bloody, bloody Christ.

He’d left Regina at the end of that summer, hadn’t reached out to her to let her know that he and his mother had had to move in with her cousin after her cancer diagnosis, hadn’t sent her his new address because he’d been too ashamed of the fact that he’d given up his dreams and ambitions and had continued in work he’d hoped to leave behind him. She’d been accepted to Vassar. He worked in construction. He and his mother were practically penniless. She belonged to a society that would never see him as anything but the help. They were from totally different worlds, heading towards totally different futures. Why prolong something that would just break him in the end?

So he’d tried to block her out of his mind and memory, had ignored regret’s sting and guilt’s ugly head, and he’d moved forward as best as he could, trudging through life with a self-imposed limp. Without entanglements. Without attachments. Telling himself over and over that he’d done Regina a favor by staying out of her life. He’d set her free to pursue bigger and better things, to find someone who could give her all that she deserved in life rather than being attached to a man who’d struggled to pay for food and his mother’s medical bills.

But she’d been pregnant...with his baby...his son...a boy she’d evidently given up for adoption just after he was born. And she’d endured all of it--pregnancy, childbirth, and giving up her baby without him.

He’d been an eighteen year old jerk who’d tried his best to paint himself as a martyr.

And she’d been seventeen--seventeen--no more than a child herself. How hard had that been for her? Her heart was so tender, so open to love, so deserving of deep and undying affection, yet she’d handed over a child he knew she’d cherish with every bone in her body. Her family had the means to raise and care for her baby, so if she gave him away, she’d either felt backed into a corner and feared that having a child at such a young age would hold her back, or…

Or she’d been on her own and was given no choice. Had her family abandoned her? It certainly sounds like something her gorgon of a mother would have done, and her father never had the balls to stand up to her, at least according to what Regina told him.

Regina. Shit. Being with him that summer had cost her everything.

He doesn’t realize that his hands are shaking until he picks up his coffee mug and nearly spills its contents all over his kitchen table. He sets it down and rubs his hands through his hair, working off a nervous energy that’s taken control of his limbs.

Henry. His son. His and Regina’s son conceived twenty-one years ago. A living, breathing human being who wants to meet him, who is with her, who knows more about his past than he does himself. And at this moment, the two missing pieces from his life were together in the very place where he’d first felt truly alive even as a new life had been created.

That life is now twenty years old.

What the hell is he supposed to do?

He stands and paces the kitchen, rubbing hands over a face he’s certain has aged ten years in five minutes. His feet carry him back to his bedroom, back to his nightstand, into a drawer that holds a handful of things that are precious to him:  a photograph of his mother, his grandfather’s pocket watch, a copy of his favorite high school math teacher’s letter of recommendation he’d been certain would help him be accepted into the college of his choice, and a picture of Regina on Piper Beach.

I’m currently staying with my birth mother at her house on Piper Beach, a place I’m told you know fairly well.

Piper Beach. That place had been imprinted into his very DNA that summer.

There are times he’s certain he still feels its sand between his toes and its salt in his lungs, and as he stares at her photograph, his throat thickens, thinking of all they experienced inside that cave by which she stands.

How they’d shaken as they touched each other in awe, as hands first explored what mouths would later taste, how they’d given each other everything and accepted everything in return. He’d nearly come apart when he’d entered her the first time, so in awe of how it felt to be inside a woman, not knowing then that no other woman he encountered would ever feel like her. He’d loved her with a purity he’d denied everyone else since then besides his mother, and he rubs his face again, feeling the beard that hadn’t existed when he’d kissed her for the first time.

He’d loved her. But he’d left her. And she had borne his son.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying at first, but he finally sits on his bed and allows tears to pour out of him like dam unleashed. Years of self-imposed loneliness and regret collide with his living past, a past he can no longer hide from, a past he both wants and fears to face.

We’ll get married once I finish college and get a job.

He’d made promises that cancer had broken as if they were no sturdier than a pile of matchsticks, promises he’d sealed with his grandmother’s ring yet walked away from when life got too hard. But Regina hadn’t been able to walk away, for his broken vows had taken root inside her womb, most likely marking her as a failure in her mother’s eyes and forcing her into a decision she should have never had to have made on her own.

Would she ever be able to forgive him if he asked? Will he ever be able to forgive himself.

His bag is half-packed before he realizes what he’s doing, and he calls Tuck on his way out the door. He knows his crew can take care of things while he’s gone--they’re good people, he’s chosen well. But he stalls once he’s inside his truck, leaving the key in the ignition as he lays his forehead on the wheel and tries to breathe.

He doesn’t need GPS to tell him how to get to his destination. He could hike to Piper Beach from memory and has often enough in his dreams. But two people are there now, two people who mean more than his own life, two people who have every right to hate him yet have reached out to invite him back.

Regina Mills. Henry Jones. His only love and their son.

He prays to God that he won’t fuck things up royally this time.

______________________________________________________________

Two and half hours later, he parks one block away, afraid of parking too close to her house, afraid of encroaching into her life again, wondering why when he’s already encroached far enough to forever alter her life. He stares at the ocean, at the play of sunlight on water, at the fluidity of the horizon, at the depth of his guilt.

A boy is waiting for him--no, a young man, rather, a child he should have known but never got to meet, a son he should have held at least once. He’s certain Regina held their baby before she gave him away, and his heart nearly shatters at the thought of what that did to her.

If he’d been there, would things have been different? What could he have offered a wife and child at the age of nineteen besides debt, disappointment and desperate times?

He could have been there. That’s about it. But Regina deserved at least that, and he’d stripped her of that right, as well.

He rubs his face again, remembering now that he’d forgotten to shave before he jumped into his truck and took off without looking back, and he chuckles to himself as he takes a final swig of cold, gas station coffee. What sort of picture will he make for this son he’s never known? What impression must he already have of him, of a man who would leave a teenage mother alone and uncared for without a forwarding address?  

Had she written to him? He’s certain that she did, and he closes his eyes to sunlight that’s now too bright as he steps out of his truck and onto pavement sprinkled with sand.

As sand through an hourglass, he thinks to himself, gazing out upon a landscape that shifts at the will of the tides. Did any sand from that summer remain, he wonders, hidden in crevices just out of the ocean’s reach? Perhaps in their cave, tucked away with memories too precious and pure to disturb by the present, even though his present was crafted within its walls. He looks to his right, half tempted to visit the cave before he faces the two people in this world he owes more than he can ever pay, regardless of the size of his bank account.

He owes them a life. He owes them everything.

A breeze hits him then, ruffling his shirt and hair, pushing him away from the shore to which he is bound even as it carries the scent of forever in its wake. He removes his shoes as he steps into the sand, closing his eyes again as he allows it to caress his toes. One step, then another, until the sand becomes firm and the water licks his feet. Gulls fly overhead, as do pelicans, and he watches their V-formation in fascination, half wishing he could soar with them back in time and correct what he’d forever messed up.

But he can’t. He can only move forward and face those he left behind.

He turns to his left and begins to walk, pausing only to roll up his pants legs until they nearly reach his knees. They’d sneaked kisses all over this beach, had held hands and played in the surf, swam in the ocean and ridden the waves. They’d tried to have sex in the water once, only to end up being knocked over repeatedly and laughing until their sides hurt. Then they’d gone to their cave where they’d caressed and made up for lost time.

Lost time, he murmurs, his words carried away by the wind and surf. Sand through an hourglass, indeed.

He spies the cottage, a reclaimed relic now brimming with life, and his heart thuds in time with the surf, making him stop to catch his breath and regroup. Are they inside, he wonders, talking, connecting, getting to know each other after his decisions tore them apart? He sees nobody at the shore, so he assumes that they must be, and he forces himself to start moving again, to keep his gaze steady and his direction marked.

He will face the mess that he made of their lives. He has to. Regina and Henry deserve no less.

Kites fly further down the beach, and he imagines what it would have been like to fly kites with his son, to teach him to swim and to fish, to play frisbee and ball and read stories together at night. Did Henry have that growing up? Had he been given a father who loved him, who read to him, who took him camping and swimming and taught him how to treat a woman?

As if he had any room to judge on that final matter.

His hand runs through his hair as her cottage looms closer, and he swallows repeatedly, counting steps, marking off years, thinking of all the birthdays he missed, all the milestones, all the years of knowing a piece of him was living and breathing just out of his reach. He wonders what he looks like, what she looks like now, how he should greet them, what he should say? The questions keep tumbling around in his mind until everything stills into mist as he reaches the front porch and stops short.

His life. His family, or what should have been his family. They’re right through that door. And he can’t approach it for the life of him.

There’s a noise from inside, a door, perhaps, and he swallows again as he seeks the courage to move. Just do it, he tells himself. You’ve come this far, and you owe it to him, no, to them.  Henry initiated contact, and to walk away now would be the worst kind of cowardice,  so he takes one more step, and then another, and then another until he’s at the front door, fist raised to knock, heart in his hands.

For Regina, he murmurs. For Henry. Then he takes a deep breath and knocks.

Seconds tick by, and he wonders if he should knock again when the knob turns from the inside and the door swings open. His past stands before him, alive and breathing, staring at him with the same bewilderment Robin knows is splashed across his face.

God, he’s taller than he’d imagined, with hair a color right in between his and Regina’s and a straightforward gaze he’d inherited from his mom. He can’t look away from him, trying his best to remember words he’d practiced in the car, words he’d repeated and repeated until they’d been burned into memory, words that have deserted him along with his dignity at the sight of a twenty year old young man.

“H-Henry? Henry Jones?”

The words tumble out with no shape or form, crashing in between them into shards of curiosity. Eyes crease, a mouth opens and closes again as the surf continues to pound behind them.

“You must be Robin.”

There’s a tinge of fear in Henry’s voice, and he won’t have that, not for all the tea in China.

“I am,” he manages. “I-I got your email.”

Blue locks with brown as the tide presses in, then a tentative smile breaks, a young hand extends, and contact is made that sears him forever. Only one other person has marked him physically like this, the same one he’d marked in return with his child.

“I’m so glad you came,” Henry says, shaking his head in wonder, obviously just as nervous as he is. “I wasn’t sure that you would, especially this quickly.”

He feels released and bound all at once.

“Why wouldn’t you doubt me when I’ve been absent your entire life.”

His chin quivers, and tears too persistent to fight break free. Then younger arms take a hold of his shoulders and guide him inside, into the very cabin Regina’s mother had forbidden him to enter even as he’d entered her womb. He’s intruding on her yet again.

“I know you didn’t know,” Henry says with a shake of his head. “About me. Regina told me that.”

He’s sitting on a sofa looking at a boy he should have met twenty years ago, trying to pull himself out of the surreality of it all.

“I didn’t,” he mutters, trying his best to steady his voice and his hand. “I had no idea until this morning. God, if I’d known…”

The words fracture apart before spilling out of him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth he fully deserves.

“She tried to tell you,” Henry continues. “But she couldn’t find you. I think it’s only fair that you know that.”

He nods through his tears, trying to make out his son’s face through blurry vision.

“I assumed as much,” Robin returns. “Trust me, I hold no blame for anyone in this situation except for myself.”

A dark cloud envelopes him, even as sunlight warms his neck, yet his fingers are frozen, as if his body is suspended between two realities. He hears Henry get up and walk across the room to grab some glasses and fill them with ice, and he wipes his face quickly, needing to see details, wanting to memorize everything even if it shreds him to bits.

“Water?”

He takes the glass and sips from it gratefully.

“Thank you,” Robin says. “And not just for the water.”

Henry’s eyes study him, eyes that are filled with his mother’s intelligence and curiosity.

“So you’re glad I contacted you? I--we weren’t sure that you would be.”

The question hovers between them as Robin breathes it in.

“I’m very glad,” he assures his son. “And also very ashamed.”

Ice tinkles in the glass Henry picks up.

“You were a kid,” Henry states, taking a sip of his own water. “And you didn’t know.”

“I should have been there for you,” Robin insists. “For you and your mother. If I was old enough to father a child, I was old enough to own the responsibility.”

Henry quirks his head as he sets his water down on the end table.

“You were younger than I am now. You both were.”

Air rushes out of Robin’s lungs as he rubs his hand over his head.

“I know,” he replies. “And I’m sure I would have made plenty of mistakes with you. But I still should have been there, for both of you.”

“You’re here now,” Henry says. The words settle into his chest, releasing one knot as yet another forms. “God knows you didn’t have to come, but you did.”

“Of course I had to come,” Robin replies. “You’re--Christ, Henry, you’re my son.”

They stare at each other, forging the beginnings of a connection that hints at redemption.

“So you’re alright with having a son?” Henry asks.

“I’m blown away,” Robin admits. “It all still seems surreal, like I’m in the middle of a dream or something, but yes. I’m more than alright with having a son. I just wish…”

Emotions overpower speech, and he inhales to restore the balance.

“I just wish I could have known you sooner.”

Henry’s hand reaches out and lays atop his own, the contact so mesmerizing he almost cannot breathe.

“I had a good life. You don’t have to worry about that.”

He’s crying again then, nodding, relieved, and more ashamed than he’s ever been in his life.

“I’m so glad,” Robin says. “I’m just sorry I couldn’t have been the one to give you that life.”

“But you did, in a way,” Henry states. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. You gave me life in the first place, you and Regina. And then she gave me a new life when she gave me up for adoption, a life I’ve never regretted, not one single day.”

He wipes his face with his arm, reaching out for his water and taking a drink.

“That’s good,” Robin returns, pulling his composure back together piece by piece. “And even if I’d been there for your mother, we might have had to make the same decision. I had nothing to offer her, much less a child…” His words break off as he stares out the window at the sea. “But she shouldn’t have had to make that decision by herself. That wasn’t fair.”

“No,” Henry agrees. “It wasn’t. But maybe you can be there for her now.”

He realizes with a start that he has no idea where she is, and he looks around the small cabin, somehow knowing she’s not here at the moment.

“She’s at the grocery,” Henry answers before he asks. “And just so you know, she has no idea I contacted you.”

“Shit,” he murmurs, only to shake his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“No,” Henry interrupts. “You’re right. I was going to tell her sometime today, because I thought I had more time. She was nervous about how you’d respond to finding out about me, and I honest to God didn’t think you’d respond as quickly as you did.”

The thought of Regina seeing him out of the blue just after meeting their son sets his nerves on edge. She’s been through enough on his account. The least he can do is allow Henry to give her a proper warning that he’s come back into their lives after a twenty-one year absence.

“I should leave” Robin asks, standing up quickly. “Just so she doesn’t have to see me without warning after all these years. I could go get a room somewhere close by, then you--”

The sound of a car door closing interrupts him, and he gazes back at his son wide-eyed.

“I think it’s too late for that,” Henry says, looking somewhat concerned himself. “It sounds like she just got home.”

He’s frozen in time and space, everything suspended in slow motion as he looks from his son to the front door, wondering if he should hide, if he should sit down, if he should run out the side door like the guilty teenager who’d left her alone and pregnant? But his feet won’t budge, so he stands there like a condemned man begging for a pardon he doesn’t deserve.

Then he hears her on the porch as his lungs tighten and his palms grow damp. He watches as the handle turns and the door swings open, then he’s looking at the woman who forever changed his life, a woman who is more beautiful than she’d been as a girl, a woman he’d put through hell and back because he’d loved her.

She sees him. Time stops. And all of the groceries clatter to the floor.

[flopostslove]

Divinely Different!

So....we want you to be our celebrant’

‘Awesome’ says I...

‘The only issue is, we have fallen in love with this church, in London, and wondered if you and the vicar could work together to create something that truly reflects us as a couple and a family’

‘Well, I’m up for it if the vicar is’ was my enthusiastic response...

And so it began, tailoring a bespoke Vicar and Celebrant led church blessing... as far as I am aware the first of its kind in the UK!!!

You certainly wouldn’t get that with a Humanist Celebrant!

I’m not going to go into that here, but I have said it before, not all celebrants are humanist, most like me are independent and happy to mix and match our ceremonies to really reflect everything our couples and families want out of their day...

Anyway I digress...

Marcia and Shane are a blended family, with children from previous relationships, both having grown up to have a faith, neither actually regularly attend church. But one day, driving past this one, Marcia fell in love with it and with nothing to lose asked the Vicar if he would be up for something a bit different.

They had already booked me, but were struggling to find the perfect venue, up until now...

We arranged a joint meeting with the Rev Wyatt and ran through how we envisioned the ceremony. With a bit of tweaking here and there we hit upon the perfect running order.

Trev the Rev, as I am going to cheekily moniker him, would go first, with the marriage ceremony and blessing, followed by Corinthians, read beautifully by the Groom’s mum.

Corinthians 13:4-13

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. 11 When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now, we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

And then the final blessing at the high alter before Trev handed over to me.

I had the best fun, checking first that I wasn't about to be smited from any great height, I personalised their journey as a couple so far...weaving in the story of how they met...the very first time as kids...even though they didn't realise it at the time...to how Shane ever so romantically .....SERIOUSLY NOT AT ALL!!....proposed to Marcia in a jewellery shop as he lobbed a ring in a box in her direction and declared...’Here you go babe, we’re engaged now!’

We laughed.....a lot!

And then there is how proud they are of the children and the people they are becoming, proud and bright advocates within their local community. They WILL achieve great things, just like their parents are set to, because they have such amazing role models...

Shane and Marcia decided to dedicate themselves to each other and to their family with a Sand Ceremony. Each family member had a container of sand to represent his or her own individual personalities

Shane had dark purple ~ Purple is associated with royalty, It symbolises wisdom, dignity, as well as mystery, and magic.

Marcia had white ~ White is associated with light, goodness, innocence, and purity.

Malique and Phoenix were given red sand ~ amongst other things, red is the colour of passion, of energy and courage and strength.

Pharrel and Tiegan had green sand ~ Green is the colour of nature; it symbolises growth and harmony as well as stability and endurance.      

AJ and Kiran had blue- Blue is associated with confidence, intelligence, faith, truth, and heaven.

The colours compliment and support each other, just as the family compliment and support each other and the patterns formed are unique just like them and their family.

Just a shame the vicar decided his phone was more interesting at this point than engaging with the ceremony!

Marcia’s mum read our final reading, from the late great Bob Marley himself...he didn't half come out with some wise words!

‘Only once in your life, I truly believe, you find someone who can completely turn your world around.

You tell them things that you’ve never shared with another soul and they absorb everything you say and actually want to hear more.

You share hopes for the future, dreams that will never come true, goals that were never achieved and the many disappointments life has thrown at you.

When something wonderful happens, you can’t wait to tell them about it, knowing they will share in your excitement.

They are not embarrassed to cry with you when you are hurting or laugh with you when you make a fool of yourself.

Never do they hurt your feelings or make you feel like you are not good enough, but rather they build you up and show you the things about yourself that make you special and even beautiful.

There is never any pressure, jealousy or competition but only a quiet calmness when they are around.

You can be yourself and not worry about what they will think of you because they love you for who you are.

The things that seem insignificant to most people such as a note, song or walk become invaluable treasures kept safe in your heart to cherish forever.

Memories of your childhood come back and are so clear and vivid it’s like being young again.

Colours seem brighter and more brilliant. Laughter seems part of daily life where before it was infrequent or didn’t exist at all.

A phone call or two during the day helps to get you through a long day’s work and always brings a smile to your face. In their presence, there’s no need for continuous conversation, but you find you’re quite content in just having them nearby.

Things that never interested you before become fascinating because you know they are important to this person who is so special to you.

You think of this person on every occasion and in everything you do. Simple things bring them to mind like a pale blue sky, gentle wind or even a storm cloud on the horizon.

You open your heart knowing that there’s a chance it may be broken one day and in opening your heart, you experience a love and joy that you never dreamed possible.

You find that being vulnerable is the only way to allow your heart to feel true pleasure that’s so real it scares you.

You find strength in knowing you have a true friend and possibly a soul mate who will remain loyal to the end.

Life seems completely different, exciting and worthwhile.

Your only hope and security is in knowing that they are a part of your life.’

After signing the certificate our happy couple and entourage left the church and walked  into glorious sunshine before heading off to their reception in Lesnes Park..adjacent to the old Priory ruins.

I hang my head, when I now admit this was the first time, I’d ever eaten curried goat as we had a caribbean feast  for our wedding breakfast and I performed a few more duties for the happy couple before wending my way back home with Kev, who had come with me to catch these fab photos.

a very proud family, celebrating a fabulous day.

So congratulations Mr & Mrs Davis...I look forward to following your adventures as you tick off your goal list!

[ryodan]

SasuNaru and the pin hole

(semi anti ending but not tagged as such as its mainly pro, so beware..vv semi tho)

@sasuke-prevails

Okay, so I’d reblog your post with a reply but my computer always freezes up when I do that and try to add pictures and I can barely use the tumblr app as it is so gaaaah. Plus, I’ve always wanted to make this post debunking everything SNS claim anyways. So here you go. sorry about the wait, i was so lazy..sorry about some shakey images i have GAD

First off, I’d like to say that when I say I am a Naruto fan, I don’t mean the character. I mean, don’t get me wrong I love Naruto too, but I am referring  to the series. I genuinely love this series despite all of it’s inconsistencies, I am late on the band wagon but I prefer that since it allows me to think objectively.  SNS tends to view the series with what I like to call pin hole vision where the entire series is naruto  x sasuke, they are the center bond because they represent everything the series itself stands for. They are not together all the time, they haven’t had the healthiest relationship but they’re the centre  bond because as proven by the first and final battles in the VOE, both at the end of part 1 and part 2 respectively it’s a ‘it boils down to this’ type of thing. However, when I say I am anti romantic SNS it does not mean I am anti their friendship. Do I think its unhealthy? Some aspects of it, yes. Problematic, yes tbh.

These are good examples  I think. Narutos worst fears early shippuuden were disappointing his comrades, and this. Why is is problematic on Narutos side? I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it

I’d like to mention what naruto as a series stands for, and always consistently stood for.

‘Nande?’

‘Onagi dakara’

‘why?’

‘because we are the same.’

-Narutos first bond, Iruka

‘Konoha o mamoroto tsuyui ishi’

‘strong will to protect the hidden leaf village.’

-Hiruzen

‘sato wa nanda?’

‘what is a village?’

-sasuke, ill get to it

‘Kono hi no ishi mote oru kagiri kono sato no mono wa subete kazoku sono mono nanja’

‘as long as one has this will of fire everyone in this village is family.’

‘Iruka sensei? Nande hito wa hito no tameni inochi o kake- ah fuck this translation takes too long im sorry omg

‘Iruka sensei why do people risk their lives for other people?’

‘When one person dies, their past , their present and their future disappears along with them----those people who die have dreams and ambitions, but everyone else has something just as important. Parents, siblings, friends, lovers..those who are dear to them. They trust each other and help each other—that string gets which connects those people gets stronger and thicker by time. It’s impossible to explain why, those who hold those strings just do it, because it’s important to them.’

‘yeah. Somehow it’s clear even to me.’

-Iruka and Naruto when Hiruzen died protecting the village

‘When someone has something they want to protect, their true power comes along’

-Haku

It’s because we help out when they’re in trouble that we can count on them to come running when we need it.

-Shikamaru, about Suna

‘If comrades that you trust gather around you, hope can take physical form and become visible. That`s what I believe...’

-kakashi, to obito

I won't allow my comrades to die. I'll protect you with my life. Trust me.

-kakashi

The next generation will always surpass the previous one. It's one of the never-ending cycles in life.

-kakashi

If you don't share someone's pain. You can never understand them.

-Pain

‘A long cycle of hatred humans have come to call history’

Just by living, people hurt others without even realizing it. So long as humanity exists, hate will also exist. There is no peace in this cursed world. War is just a crime paid for by the pain of the defeated...

-pain

Now there's something I understand a little better. Hate, sadness, even joy. To be able to share it with another person... Naruto Uzumaki. From fighting him I learned that. He knew pain like I did and then he taught me that you can change your path. I wish that one day I can be needed by someone. Not as a frightening weapon... But as the sand's Kazekage.

-Gara

  People's lives don't end when they die. It ends when they lose faith.

-itachi

‘ill never let my comrades die, those words and the conviction behind them are not lies, because neji was able to store those words in his heart. Brother Neji died! It’s not just you Naruto, we all hold those words and feelings in our heart.That is what binds our lives together and makes us comrades. If we all give up those thoughts and feelings Nejis final act would have been for nothing. And that is when your comrades truly die.’

-Hinata

The pain of being alone is completely out of this world, isn't it? I don't know why, but I understand your feelings so much, it actually hurts.

-Naruto

That void is something that everyone helps you fill. Just because you face adversity and hardships, is no reason to give up on this world. A person willing to throw away all those memories... of their friends and comrades, will never find peace of mind. Resorting to something like that isn't going to bury that hole. If you persevere and endure, someone will be there to support you!

-Kakashi, to obito

 I love sasuke. I love all of his bonds, and despite the shit he dealt with in the series he really does represent the message of the series really well…an atypical antagonist, an incredibly well written character who fills not only his shoes in the story, but the shoes of many other characters.

You say Sasuke offered his food to Naruto because he cares about him and I agree, empathy stems from care. But going by your argument.

Despite this

He did wait for her to wake up, also risking elimination and a halting of his revenge plans.

It’s important noting that before any of this, their goals were very self centered and none of them were playing by teamwork..except sasuke, who boasted that he was better than them to Kakashi, but was still the only one who linked them together, by feeding naruto and by saying the whole ‘we are a 3 man cell aren’t we?’

That’s another thing I love about this guy, he really brings people together despite the fact that does not talk for 98% of the series. Taka developed because of him and so did 7.

A constantly relevant theme.

the first mission bought light to what their relationships would be like very early on, and also imprints these guys as personal bonds based on friendship and affection that sasuke shares, a feat that no one else in the series was able to do aside from his family.

From the tree climbing exercise that combined their rivalry and their friendship to this moment that made a grown ass man cry

 ENCOUNTER WITH FRIENDS WHO CAN EASE HIM FROM LONELINESS!!

【仲間】 「それまで恋や友情に見向きもしなかったサスケは、ナルトやサクラと出会い、少しずつではあるが、仲間を受 け 入れ始める。サスケにとってナルトは、いつの間にか互いの能力を高め合う良きライバルとなり、 また大蛇丸の 邪悪な呪印にのみ込まれんとするその心を、サクラに救われたことも．．．  」

↳ 【COMPANIONS】 Though until then he had taken no notice of either love or friendship, after meeting with Naruto and Sakura Sasuke begins to accept them as nakama, even if only little by little. In Sasuke’s eyes, before he even noticed it, he and Naruto became mutual good rivals capable of boosting up each other’s skills - and also, when his heart was about to be swallowed by Orochimaru’s wicked cursed seal again, he was rescued by Sakura…

‘as they go on countless missions together, he sees her strengths and weaknesses and views her as someone he needs to protect’

「呪印の影響で暴走するサスケを身を挺して鎮めるサクラ。サクラのサスケを想う心が、邪な力を 包 み込む。」  

↳ Sakura willingly and bravely calms the rampaging Sasuke under the influence of the cursed seal. Sakura’s heart, thinking of Sasuke, devours the wicked power.

 For Naruto who was considered a failure, Sasuke was more than an annoying guy who got the best grades: he was also the rival that won Sakura’s heart, for whom Naruto is in love ���! That’s why he always gets annoyed with Sasuke

Sasuke, who only had power for revenge, becomes stronger because of his companions. His true place would have been a future among them.

Growing distant, towards darkness. The one to appear before him as he began leave was Sakura. To the back of a Sasuke that tried to avert from what was being left behind, Sakura desperately conveys her feelings. Bright and earnest feelings - feelings that did not want to lose Sasuke. The one who filled his lonely existence with the emotion called love was Sakura. But, as expected, Sasuke cannot respond to those feelings. Sasuke was only able to leave a single word of thanks as word of parting. 

Friendship and love, a future filled with warmth. But as long as he is there, he cannot make his dream come true. This is why he throws away a future with his friends. To make dreams of revenge a reality…

As is confirmed by the databook.

Sasuke risked his life for them both, and he would have done it again no thinking what so ever, partly because he is a selfless person and also because they already imprinted on his mind. Sasukes relationship with Naruto is given a rivalry mixed with friendship context early on and my friend who had 0 to do with naruto burrowed volume one from me and in school while she was reading asked me if sasuke and sakura end up together, because authorial context is clear

In fact this scene builds up a very good argument I have for this ship that I will get to, where we first learn of his entire stance in the story and sakura is like? Mind you, this was at a time before sasuke ever spoke about these things to anyone…he made me cry is not something he ever told anyone other than sakura. She was intuitive to he him, even during the war when she had a feeling he’d start shit up early on.

You could argue he is blushing bc he is embarrassed… but he has had girls thirsting after him since he was fresh out the womb. ‘he came off stand offish’ well, yes naturally when a person is suffering from trauma and survivors guilt they tend to isolate themselves and become reclusive and irritable. Now, add the fact that the trauma happened at such a young age and you have a sasuke. But he still, took out the time to say he’s emo (a joke ofc)

The only ‘romantic context’ ever given to Naruto and Sasuke was the ‘accidental kiss’ which ended up like this

Over the course of the series we see Sasukes attachment to team 7, in the same context given before. Best friend and rival, girl he feels protective affection for.

however, the context between sasusaku was always romanticized

 Part 2 : http://sasukeuchihayas.tumblr.com/post/160820240389/this-comes-full-circle-in-the-gara-fight-when

Part 3 : http://sasukeuchihayas.tumblr.com/post/160820241909/if-we-do-a-time-skip-to-after-the-akatsuki-arc