#long distance reunion
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Sapphic September 11: Letters
More Post-Final Girls, and a direct sequel to this earlier snippet.
The first message arrives four months after the Grand Change, and at first, Meline thinks it's a prank. The address is encrypted. The sender’s ID is untraceable. There's no way to tell whether it was sent from within or outside the city limits. Maybe Freki could discover something; that one has always been freakishly talented. They're still not cooperating, though.
Yes, Meline does resort to asking, if not to begging. All she gets is a bout of laughter in her face.
She spends days staring at the few lines. I hear you're asking about us. Flo and I are well. It's been an interesting few months, and I have a hope that our future is only going to get more exciting. I sincerely hope you're doing well, too, and that you're achieving your goals with X-City. They're good goals, for what it's worth. I've always believed that. It's only your methods that I question, but I suppose at this point we can agree to disagree. If you decide to write back, I'll be glad.
That's all she gets. That, and the signature.
-Jules
Meline only responds to the message because she's told it might help locate the sender. Her answering letter floats through the electronic ether loaded with tracers, interceptors, and bugs.
None of the little programs work.
Her web-reconnaissance team assure her they can keep trying. That's why, when another message comes, Meline writes back again.
Jules, assuming that's her, avoids answering any questions about her whereabouts, only occasionally resorting to a simple "You can stop trying, Mel, you know I won't tell you." She does say enough that it's clear she's not in X-City, or any of the other cities, for that matter. Or at least that she wants Meline to believe she isn't. Her descriptions of sands at night and star-peppered skies ring true, but she's always been one for vivid imagery. When they were in school together, the one subject Meline couldn't ever beat her at was essay composition.
Jules is also aware their correspondence is being watched. She slips in little notes for Meline's employers as postscripts. Better luck next time, I'd say, but I don't really want you to be in luck. That last virus was vicious, kudos for that. Oops, is someone getting desperate? Despite that, she is surprisingly candid. She talks openly about her feelings and moods. About Flo, who apparently doesn't know she's been in correspondence with Meline ("I'll tell her when she's ready"). About her anxiety over meeting so many new people and trying so many new things.
All the while, Jules's father keeps claiming he hasn't been in contact with his daughter since she left. So Meline doesn’t tell him anything either.
Weeks later, when the team is as close as they can get to admitting defeat, Meline tells them to quit. This isn't going anywhere, she tells them. This is nothing more than a distraction.
They stop monitoring the mailbox. She doesn't stop writing. Her letters get longer now. She doesn't want to open up, but she lets thing slip. How hard it's been, filling her mother's shoes. How she isn't sure these shoes fit her, even. How yes, it's about the methods, too, not just goals.
Jules doesn't stop writing either. Until she does.
At first, Meline thinks she must be simply busy. There's nothing strange about skipping on a reply for a day. For two days, even.
On day three, she's worried. On day four, she's climbing walls and cancelling meetings.
There's a lot of dangers beyond the city walls. It's not all beautiful stars.
Day five, day six, day seven. Day ten.
Tomorrow, I'll talk to Freki again, she swears on day twelve before bed. It's probably going to be of no use, but if she tries and tries and tries, if she agrees to let them go, if—
Her comm pings.
The message arrives with the same cipher in place of a return address, but those aren't Jules's words on the screen. Same font, same background, no signature, but Mel can't imagine being wrong on the sender's identity.
So. Hey. I should have written sooner, but I was mad at you & Jules both. She's fine, by the way. Well, she will be. They’ve got great healthcare here in the middle of nowhere. Anyway, I've given it some thought, talked to some people, and maybe I'm willing to give this "communicating instead of burning bridges" thing a go.
If it doesn't work out, I've got gasoline.
#warden's random scribbles#sapphic september 2023#sapphicsept2023#writeblr#writblr#my writing#writers on tumblr#original fiction#flash fiction#snippet#cyberpunk#long distance#long distance reunion#post final girls
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Kyoko still regularly visits the Corn clearing because it's her happy place, and early into the production Ren goes to visit the spot for nostalgia and happy memories. They run into each other there and Ren immediately realizes who she is
#skip beat#kyoko mogami#ren tsuruga#kyoren#never left kyoto au#I think he kind of knew already in the back of his mind but didnt really register it until they meet in the forest#a big part of the fun of this au for me is imagining what their reunion would have been like if they hadn't gotten off on the wrong foot#like they do in the manga#because even after he finds out his distaste for her motivations and her consequent grudge against him color their interactions for a while#(I also think she unintentionally triggered his trauma when they first met which is why he reacted so strongly to her but thats a rant for#another day)#he's just so so so so so drawn to her while also desperately wanting to keep his distance#but it's hard when he feels like he's suddenly back in his most precious memories#and kyoko is so charmed by him#platonically (at first)#she connects to people so quickly and the only reason she disliked Ren for so long was because he was mean to her hgkdfjdk#and I don't think 30 year old kyoko would have the same 'i hate who Sho hates' mentality 16yo kyoko did bc thats just how teenagers are lol#anyway i've ranted long enough I think about them so much
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oh i MUST ask about Eternal Pose 👀🧡💙
My girls!! 😭 This one is close to my heart and will probably take me a long time to finish. It's Nami POV and centered around how she deals with leaving Vivi behind at Alabasta, but never having confessed her feelings towards her. Vivi is desperate to stay in contact with Nami and the others (via letters or Den Den Mushi) but Nami firmly tells her no, as she is worried that it would put Vivi in danger if their correspondance was intercepted. She also wants to try and forget Vivi as much as possible for the sake of her own feelings. Vivi agrees, but she is also stubborn and makes attempts to contact Nami anyway. Nami's feelings make it hard to say no to her...
Here's a small snippet!
The second-hand shop sold a variety of sailing trinkets. As Nami made her way towards what looked like an amalgamation of navigational and shipwrights tools, she caught the eye of the day-dreaming cashier—a girl probably only a year or two younger than she was—and gave her a small smile and a nod. The girl blinked dazedly for a moment, giving her a shy smile back before glancing down at her newspaper, a light pink on her cheeks. The movement caused her shimmery mane of silver hair to catch the light, making it almost appear blue.
Nami’s heart skipped a beat.
She turned back quickly to the disorganised shelves. They heaved with everything from sextants to piles upon piles of old maps and ship blueprints alike. There wasn’t anything in particular she was looking for, she was only here to pass the time and maybe pick up a new inkwell or two, but the habit of seeking out a good bargain was something that never truly went away, no matter how much berry she gained.
Her eyes fell upon a collection of dusty log poses, all in varying states of disrepair. Probably being sold for spare parts, she reasoned. There were also a few eternal poses amongst the pile that looked to be in better condition. She picked up the closest one to inspect it, dusting off the side where the destination should be carved into it, except the wood had become so worn that the name of the island was completely unreadable.
“Useless,” Nami muttered quietly to herself as she made to put it back on the shelf. No wonder it was so heavily marked down in price. Eternal poses weren’t exactly cheap.
Just before she could replace it on the shelf, she paused. The name on the eternal pose that had been hidden behind the one she held was now fully visible. Her hand shook a little as she reached for it, tracing the letters gently with her fingertip as she wiped away the dust.
“Alabasta…”
Nami bit her lip, turning it over in her hands under the guise of checking its condition—flawless—and price tag—way more berry than she could justify—when all the while her mind whirled with a sea of emotions. She stole a glance back at the cashier again, and her hair only seemed more blue.
The cashier looked up and spoke, but Nami could only hear her own heartbeat thundering in her ears.
“What?” Nami said faintly and the cashier gave her a kind smile before repeating herself.
“Do you need any help with anything?”
“O-oh! No, I'm okay. Sorry I'm just browsing.”
The cashier’s smile became amused as she took in Nami’s flustered look.
“No problem! I’m here if you need anything.”
Nami watched curiously as the cashier gave her another quick once over before looking back down at her newspaper. Her cheeks were pink again.
Smiling, Nami observed the girl tucking her hair behind her ear, her eyes very clearly not reading the words in front of her at all. It was always flattering to be looked at in that way. On any other day, Nami might have even pursued it further, but…
She took a breath.
Mind calmer, Nami looked back down again at the eternal pose. She gripped it tighter.
Making a decision, she turned and walked back towards the till. The cashier smiled brightly.
“Just that one?” She said as Nami passed over the eternal pose to her.
Nami nodded, heart hammering as she counted up the last of her berry in her purse—the boys would have to make do without any more handouts today. She watched as the cashier read the name on the pose, mouthing the syllables silently to herself without any sign of recognition, before placing it carefully in a paper bag.
“Does it point somewhere nice?” She said conversationally. “Somewhere sunny? Nice beaches?” Her eyes roamed over Nami again, taking in her long hair, worn loose, and her tangerine sundress. She passed Nami the bag as she spoke, their fingertips brushing. Her touch was warm.
Nami pulled away gently. Whether the cashier looked disappointed or not, she didn’t know. She kept her gaze on the bag instead, smiling.
“Home,” she said.
#ask games#nami x vivi#my fic#lots of long distance pining and eventual reunion!#nami just falling more in love as they communicate through letters and rare den den mushi calls :')#thank you for the ask maya! 💜#pup replies
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hi dropping by with some daily tobio nation thoughts ahem -- kageyama picking u up at the italian airport, wearing a mask and trying to be inconspicuous even tho theres like at least a dozen paps followingh him around, and another few dozen fangirls just trailing behind him but all of that disappears when he sees you walking out of the gate, looking a bit tired, but smiling so wide when you see him -- the way you float in his arms when he picks you up, and sure this will def be on the tabloid front pages tomorrow morning but he doesn't care, he only cares about the way you smell like home, and how the shape of you fits into his chest like the last jigsaw piece to the puzzle that is his life and he'd kiss you without thinking, only to pull back and tug on his hat, blushing, taking your hand in his "c'mon, lets get your luggage... are you hungry? there's a good pizza place around the corner from mine."
aaaaah my tobio heart is beating out of my chest 😭 i am so thankful for you baby, feeding me so good with this
i often fantasise about airport reunions with him. so touch starved he forgets his surroundings, when he feels you in his arms again. like he has been counting down the days, the hours, until you’re reunited again. and he doesn’t necessarily want to bring any more attention the the whole scene then necessary, so doesn’t bring a huge bouquet — just one singular flower. simple, yet so thoughtful
and one of the most romantic things to me, is someone calling their so ‘home’. it tugs at my heartstrings, it jerks my tears, it makes me feel warm in a way nothing else does. so just picture he has trouble settling down in italy, not really finding any sense of peace there. it’s only when he plays he forgets he isn’t home.
until you’re in his arms again, and he’s reminded that his home is never a place but you.
no my heart 😭 it’s ridiculous how quickly he took my heart hostage like wtf who gave him the right
#— ಇ wanna kiss?#— my darling ꒰rain꒱#I love you rain i needed this tonight 🩷🩷#this is also very selfship coded for me lol#like airport reunions is big there#being part time long distance#it always get emotional yk#— ᡣ𐭩 ꒰tobio꒱#— hebio ෆ
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@anchoraweigh asked :
"What if they kissed?" for yinyue if it's ok, i understand if not!!
what if they kissed ? || accepting
─「银月」─ it was one of the rare times that outsiders were allowed within the border of BLACK SHORES. the archipelago was far removed from the land of huanglong itself. like another dimension and world altogether. despite the memory of this place being purposely removed from her mind, the FOUNDATION of the organization and the people looking at her like she was the savior they had been waiting for all this time made it so that she couldn't deny the attachment being formed regardless of the absence of memory.
this was the beginning of her journey in this world, this was the place she had established to become humanity's last hope. for the future, for the world they stood upon.
the SHOW was spectacular. it was unlike anything the members had ever seen. the performance was given with finesse and passion, a kind of devotion that every single person in the audience would be able to sense in each and every movement of the actors and the stars. when brant said he was going to give them a show, a show was what he delivered. yinyue had witnessed his troupe's performance before, but it was as though this was a whole another level. it was breathtaking, a story crafted specially for them, a story that would inspire HOPE, a story about life and the future, a story that would make you want to continue forward.
a story that gave the members more reasons to keep doing what they were doing, a story that reminded them why they were doing this.
for the future.
the rover could still hear the staff members talked about how amazing the show was as they were showing the troupe members around BLACK SHORES. well, at least the parts that weren't confidential, at least. just as the troupe had instilled inspiration and hope into them, they wanted them to know that they were working hard to make sure this very world they stood upon was protected. even though the TDs were unpredictable, even though the threat of the lament and the threnodian attacks could come any day, this was the duty they upheld. this was the meaning of their work. and it was all behind the scenes. they didn't get to share it with others despite how hard they had been putting their effort into it.
and now, yinyue was standing next to the man who made it all happen. his frame felt uniquely outstanding among the scenery of the organization shrouded in mystery. he was almost like an anchor and the sail all in one person. the one who rooted people to one place in the stormy sea, and the one who would take them out on a journey others could not. golden orbs watched from the side, observing the way his eyes reflected the light from the horizon line where the sea meets the sky. it dawned on her how she had never seen this man hanging his head. he always kept it up high, and eyes looking forward.
" brant. " gloved digits placed itself onto his arm, a call of his name held a subtle meaning that was proven the very moment his head turned. the ROVER leaned up, her lips pressing a soft, fleeting kiss like the wind upon his lips. it was quiet and tender, lasting only for a split second more before she leaned back. the way her expression mellowed down was a mix of gratitude, of happiness, and a kind of emotion that was warmer and gentler than the rest. endearment.
" thank you. i look forward to seeing your next performance. " her fingers quietly slid to hold his own, a small squeeze. the tacet mark upon the back of her palm glowing dimly. a wordless promise from one traveler to another. she knew that their roads would diverge from here, each following their own destinies. his life at the sea, and hers across the lands. but now that he had a piece of her heart her with him ... she was sure they'd see each other in the future, when fate permits it.
when our paths crossed again, bring it back with you, won't you ?
#anchoraweigh#.answered#.answered meme#.[ yinyue | rover ]#[ quietly places this in your hands#OFC IT'S OKAY I ACTUALLY ADORE THEIR DYNAMIC#I WAS EXCITED WHEN I GOT THE ASK I HAD THE IDEA IN MY HEAD I WANNA TRY#thus i make this after the performance she asked of him#hOPE IT'S ALRIGHT !!#THIS WAS FUN TO WRITE HEHE#the meme be like it doesn't have to be a ship#me : i'mma make this shippy bc i can#I LIKE THE IDEA OF THEM HAVING A SORT OF LONG DISTANCE THING GOING ON TOO#like exchanging letters or something#as they went on their own path / journey#and the reunion would be sweet#dON'T MIND ME I'M LETTING MY THOUGHTS GET AWAY FROM ME I JUST THINK THEY'RE NEAT ]
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Allow people to miss you.
#Absence#Longing#Yearning#Space#Desire#Yearn#YearnForMe#LetGo#Reconnect#Appreciation#Distance#TimeApart#Nostalgia#EmbraceMissing#FeelMyAbsence#RememberMe#Reflect#Wait#CherishQuiet#Reunion
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Favourite Hello and Hardest Goodbye | BokuAka | rated G
Saying goodbye to Bokuto—no matter how inevitable, no matter how frequent—always feels like he’s choking on his own heart.
The usual sunshine of Bokuto’s presence wilts too as they stand in the airport, seconds away from separating yet again.
As if to match his mood, the skies outside are overcast, the clouds grey in their shared melancholy.
Bokuto shuffles, his eyes casting around. Akaashi can see the beginning of a wobble in his lips that Bokuto is resisting. He watches him swallow thickly a few times before meeting Akaashi’s eyes. “It’s only a few months.”
It sounds like he's trying to convince himself.
“Yeah,” Akaashi says softly, head dipping to shield his expression.
There they are, two people flaking at the edges as they try to hold themselves together for the other person.
“We’ll text every day,” Bokuto promises, voice rough.
Moments later, he buries his face in Akaashi’s neck, embracing him with both arms securely around his body. Akaashi’s knees buckle a little, his breath catching as he's reminded of what he's about to part with.
He can’t move under the weight of Bokuto’s familiar, strong arms—doesn’t want to, ever.
But Bokuto is going to miss his flight.
Akaashi wrenches himself away, gathering himself with the skin of his teeth. “Go, Bokuto-san. You’ve got this.”
His breaths shudder out of him at Bokuto’s gentle, comforting smile. His nod of agreement. “We’ll win, and then I’ll come home to you.”
And that? That sits with him for weeks.
I’ll come home to you.
It burns in his chest, in his cheeks, behind his eyes.
Bokuto is his home too, even if Akaashi doesn’t know how to express it so bluntly.
Akaashi remembers watching a comedy special once, where a line struck him: home is where we feel safe, because we live in an unsafe world.
Nothing can touch him with Bokuto around, because Bokuto chases away the darkness that clings to every corner. He sweeps the streets with light, and offers the warmth of his smiles to Akaashi without restraint, until Akaashi begins to feel like he's been left outside in a sunspot to bake.
He should be used to this, but he's not. He doubts he’ll ever learn to accept their separation, no matter how brief.
Akaashi drifts through life one meeting at a time, an overworked caricature of himself in between, only to feel whole again the moment he reunites with Bokuto.
“Agaaashii,” Bokuto says, picking up his phone. He can hear a commotion behind him, and loud cheers. “Hi!”
He's probably still at their game.
“Is this a bad time?” Akaashi tests unsurely.
“No way, it’s a good time! The best time, now that I hear your voice.” Bokuto can truly be shameless in expressing his affections, Akaashi can’t get used to it. “I miss you~”
As always, his heart slams into his chest. “I miss you too, Bokuto-san.”
Even though it’s only been two weeks. How is Akaashi meant to endure this?
“Bokkun, who’re ya talkin’ to?” Someone asks in the background.
Bokuto slightly pulls the phone away from his ear, his voice sounding a little further as he responds. “Oh! It’s Akaashi, remember? I told you about him.”
“Ahh! Say hi to yer husband for me!”
Akaashi’s mouth goes dry, his eyes widening. Husband?
“Tsum-Tsum says hi, Kaashi!” Bokuto relays enthusiastically, seemingly unruffled.
Akaashi barely manages to choke out a question. “H-husband?”
“Ohh,” Bokuto makes a noise. The silence stretches only a few seconds, but Akaashi finds that he's forgotten how to breathe. “…Tsum-Tsum likes to tease me… because I always talk about you. So now everyone… everyone refers to you like that.”
His eyebrows shoot up, both flattered and stunned. “Really?”
“‘Course Agaashi! I have the most wonderful boyfriend in the world!”
Ugh, Bokuto is bad for his cardiac health. Akaashi clutches his heart and takes a steadying breath. “Don’t let them tease you too much.”
“It’s okay,” Bokuto waves off, sounding more enthusiastic. “It’s not really teasing if it’s true!”
“Huh?”
“It’s just like practice for the future, right?” Bokuto poses the question innocently, likely unaware of the way Akaashi clutches the edge of a couch to steady himself against the sudden swoop of his heart. “For when we get married.”
For? When?!
Akaashi’s mind goes into an internal screech, wheels skidding out of control, thoughts barreling into each other, a big traffic jam that brings everything to a stop. He stands there, stunned, caught in the middle of it.
They’ve never verbally discussed this, even though Akaashi hoped and anticipated that that’s where they’ll end up one day.
Yet for Bokuto to announce it so casually…
He swallows thickly a few times. Clears his throat. “Right,” his voice cracks a bit. “Of course.”
He can hear Bokuto’s beaming smile. “I’ll call you later tonight, Kaashi! I have to go now!”
“Okay, Bokuto-san… Kou,” Akaashi responds, still reeling.
There’s a pause on the other end of the line.
Then, a stream of verbal hearts pour from the receiver. “Keijiiiii! You called me Kou!”
It feels appropriate, in light of the most recent revelation. “I did,” Akaashi agrees, clearing his throat. His cheeks feel incandescently warm. “Go now, before you get in trouble.”
“I’ll call you!” Bokuto declares again, then, for all to hear, without a care or shame, entirely unreluctant, Bokuto ends the call with, “love you, Keiji!!”
The call ends, and Akaashi drops on the couch, body made of liquid.
He flops down like a limpless body and stares at the ceiling.
How? How does Bokuto do this to him?
It’s unbearable in his chest as the words glow there.
How is he expected to focus on anything else now?
*
Bokuto calls him around midnight Akaashi’s time.
He's already in bed, with nothing better to do than await this call. He answers it without a hitch, his heart kicking in his chest.
“Keiji!” Bokuto sounds delighted. “You’re awake! I was worried I’d miss you. Cap took us out for lunch!”
Akaashi curls into his duvet, smiling. “I hope you had a good time… I stayed up waiting.”
“Keiji…” Bokuto’s voice wobbles. “You did?”
“I always do,” Akaashi says softly.
“I miss you, Keijiii,” Bokuto whines, seemingly unable to stop calling him by his first name, even as violent butterflies swarm Akaashi’s gut each time.
“I miss you too… How was the game?”
“Great! We won!” Bokuto sounds like he's grinning. It makes Akaashi’s heart happy.
Bokuto is made to smile and be showered with love, he deserves it more than anyone.
“Congrats,” he murmurs, smiling softly. “I knew you would.”
“Keiji,” Bokuto says again, stealing his breath yet again. “I always win when you believe in me.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, Akaashi breathes against the overwhelming feeling rising in his throat. “I always, always believe in you.”
Bokuto makes a garbled noise, a mix of overwhelmed and happy. “That’s so unfair, why are you not here so I can kiss you?!”
Akaashi laughs, despite sharing the sentiment. “You can kiss me when you come back.”
“I’m saving up allll my kisses,” Bokuto discloses. “So far I have… twenty-five!”
It makes Akaashi choke on another laugh. “Twenty-five? That many already?”
“Of course!” Bokuto sounds indignant that Akaashi would doubt that. It’s so painfully endearing, it makes Akaashi bury his face in his pillow and try not to scream. “I always want to kiss you, Keiji!”
Good gods above, spare Akaashi’s heart some mercy.
“I miss your cute face,” Bokuto sighs wistfully. There’s a noise on the other end of Bokuto flopping down on a mattress. “Tsum-Tsum says I talk about you twenty-four-seven.”
“Please don’t drive Miya-san crazy.” Akaashi imagines what it must be like. Bokuto’s boundless enthusiasm spilling over, his generous love pouring out at the slightest provocation. “Especially if you plan to introduce us one day.”
“I do!” Bokuto agrees, voice booming with excitement. “We talked about it yesterday. I told him we should grab lunch together sometime cause he keeps asking about you.”
“He does?”
“Yeah. Said something about wanting to meet the man that can keep up with me.” Bokuto is laughing, clearly not offended by that. “I think Tsum-Tsum is just looking for an excuse to tease me again!”
Yeah, Akaashi gathers that much. “Does he tease you too much?”
“Nah, don’t worry Keiji!” Bokuto reassures. “It’s harmless fun. He likes showing everyone my lockscreen. The one where you’re kissing my cheek. He also tells everyone that you’re really pretty, which is true!”
Akaashi flushes.
“And he always introduces you as my husband,” Bokuto adds after a moment.
There it is again. The breath catches in his throat. “You’re okay with that?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Bokuto huffs. “I plan to marry you one day, Keiji.”
This time, there’s no stopping the influx of things clawing up his throat. Akaashi smushes his face into a pillow and makes a garbled, choking noise, muffling a scream.
He can hear Bokuto exclaiming on the other end of the line, wondering if he's okay.
Shakily, Akaashi pulls the phone to his ear again.
“—aashi?!”
“I’m okay,” Akaashi says hoarsely (he’s not). “I’m here.”
“What happened?” Bokuto demands.
“I just needed a moment,” Akaashi clears his throat, face hot. “…to process.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you… is it a good thing?” Bokuto sounds a little vulnerable, and Akaashi can’t reassure him fast enough, tripping over his own words.
“Yes—of course—yes. I’m happy, Bokuto-san—Kou. You make me so happy.”
From the moment he met him, Akaashi recalls fondly, Bokuto has made him the happiest he could ever be.
*
Akaashi hasn't seen Bokuto for two months. They call frequently, sometimes day and night, sometimes over video, but none of it sates the ache in his chest.
There’s not enough of Bokuto to hold over such a large distance, and Akaashi misses the simple act of being close to him.
The way Bokuto smells so warm and nice, the way his arms are so strong they can lift Akaashi up effortlessly.
By the time those two months have passed, Akaashi swears he feels less human and more zombie, deprived of Bokuto’s bright presence for far too long.
Now only a few hours separate their reunion, and Akaashi is vibrating in his seat. He'sd been too anxious to sit still, and has arrived at the airport too early—hours too early.
He finds himself sitting in one of the caf’éès sipping on coffee and trying to stay awake after he had spent the night tossing and turning, unable to sleep in his excitement.
It’s cold here, he regrets wearing a thin cardigan, andas he holds his coffee close, leaching warmth from it.
Soon, Bokuto will be here.
Soon, Akaashi will feel warm again.
He doesn’t realise he's dozed off on the table until his phone vibrates in his pocket.
He startles, nearly spilling the remainder of his drink.
“Kou?” he picks up the phone, his breath catching.
“Keiji,” Bokuto says warmly. “You look so beautiful.”
Akaashi straightens instinctively. His head swivels around, and his heart careens into his ribs when he catches sight of Bokuto standing across the café.
He stumbles to his feet, his chair skidding back. Each breath puffs out of him like a little gasp as his feet carry him across the café, right into Bokuto’s waiting arms.
Oh.
Akaashi’s knees fully buckle at the soft impact with Bokuto’s warm, solid chest, but Bokuto catches him, one hand tangling in Akaashi’s hair as Bokuto nuzzles his neck and holds Akaashi against him. “Keiji…” he breathes.,
He can’t breathe, let alone talk, so he just clutches him closer, sucking lungfuls of his comforting scent.
“You’re here,” Akaashi chokes out, tangling his fingers in Bokuto’s hair and leaning back to look at him. At those glittering golden eyes he missed so much.
“You’re here,” he whispers again, awed and moved, his fingers skimming lovingly across Bokuto’s cheek.
Bokuto’s smile is radiant. “Of course I am,” he cups Akaashi’s cheek, leaning closer to impart his next words against Akaashi’s lips. “I came home to you.”
You can also read this piece on AO3.
#bokuaka#bokuto x akaashi#haikyuu#lindtluirae writes#bokuto koutaro#akaashi keiji#fanfic#rated G#sappy#long distance relationship#reunions
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[full of turkey and deviled eggs, half asleep] I don't think this story is sad enough actually I think I have to make it worse
#my mom complained abt the ql ending again so i went off on a tangent on how good a reunion hug between al and sam would be#so now im “hm i touched on it a little in chapter 2 that his presence was comforting even if he couldnt touch but. make it Worse#just keep making these boys upset actually“#cause when ur brain is filled with mourning for someone you want to hug your bestie but. what if the one person you most want to hug#cant. they can be there#they can be there and talk to you and hold your gaze and tell you a joke but they cant touch you#not even long distance the normal way. long distance in a way that a plane ticket cant fix#of course there are the homosexual undertones yes yes but the core denial of closeness is what im getting at#imo from how we see boy interact#sam is a physical person. he likes just gently touching his friends#he may not be like a giant hugger specifically but in the gentle baps on the head to just shoulder brushes and close talking#hes a physical person so the denial of that with his closest bud must be agony over time#anyway yeah im gonna make it sadder!!! its my mental illness i get to pick the sadness!!! whos gonna stop me!!!#and i will be writing him happy at the 4077th. as recompense.#and writing big bj and hawk and trapper and co holiday family happy time. it is good.#.yappin
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I'm about a month and a half from my flight to visit my partner in Europe. This will be the second time we see each other in person but this time it'll be for 2x as long. I'm excited but nervous cause it'll be my first time traveling alone and my first time going to Europe
Aaaaa TwT You're doing great!!! I really wish you the best!!! When my partner visited me for the first time it was also their first time traveling alone to such a distance, and their first time going to Europe too, so this goes straight to my heart! We had a wonderful time and I hope you guys will too!!
#also sorry in advance if europe is underwhelming i ain't proud of europe#but reunions <3 they're really the best thing TwT#ldr#long distance relationship#long distance#anon#lots of love and good wishes to you guys
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We had despaired of ever finding this, but our teammate S has amazing powers of recall and was able to sleuth it out! It’s a super fun fic with soft, happy andreil and jerejean, plus solid Kevin friendship with everyone. By popular demand the author added an epilogue where the couples play The Newlywed Game with Kevin as host. (The second couple is jerejean, not katelyn/aaron.)
We screenshot the original rec because it contained an email address and hope the submitter sees this -A
Secrets and Honesty by fullyvisible [Rated T, 42780 Words, Complete, 2021]
Part 1 of the Better Together series
Neil and Andrew aren't on the same professional teams, but that doesn't mean they're any less together. When a photograph gets taken out of context, they decide to go with it, as long as they're both having fun. And they are. Right?
#rec#reader submission#neil josten/andrew minyard#kevin day & neil josten & andrew minyard#jeremy knox/jean moreau#neil josten & the foxes#universe: post canon#theme: pro exy#theme: secret relationship#theme: established relationship#theme: long distance#theme: reunions#theme: minyard-josten rivalry#theme: weddings#theme: coming out#theme: bisexuality#theme: friendship#theme: found families#theme: the press#theme: paparazzi#theme: social media#theme: game show#theme: fluff & humour#theme: fluff
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how characters deal with long distance
Time zone math calculations Missing calls forgiveness Text message over-analysis Virtual date coordination Memory box collecting Future plans daydreaming Screen time scheduling Travel budget stretching Digital intimacy learning Missed moments mourning Communication misunderstandings Reunion countdown marking Distance growth acceptance Commitment doubt processing Love language adaptation
#long distance#ldr life#distance dating#romance books#slow burn#relationship goals#modern romance#meet cute#love story#book tok#hopeless romantic#book ish#romance reader#book recs#romantic tension#time zones#screen love#miles apart#digital romance#love letters#romance tropes#angst with happy ending#hurt comfort#love wins#comfort reads#across miles#heart ache#separated lovers#missing you#reunion love
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tap out.
simon doesn’t expect anyone to tap him out. a ritual where loved ones step forward to release a soldier from duty, creating a chance to reconnect.
based on this.
simon stands in formation, a soldier among countless others, each bound by discipline, each carrying their own story beneath a stoic exterior.
in the unyielding line, he’s silent, gaze fixed forward, while around him, families reunite: sons embraced by tearful mothers, women lifting their children into their arms, couples lost in long-awaited kisses. joy and relief fill the air, carried on quiet laughter and murmured words of love.
but simon is an orphan now.
there’s no one to step forward for him, no one to break his stance. he watches it all, standing alone, feeling like a stranger in this crowd of reunions, this world of connections he never belonged to.
over the years, the military has stripped him down, rebuilt him into something hardened and unbreakable. this new self is his armor, a wall between him and the life he left behind.
the tap-out tradition is a formality he’s only ever heard about, something he’s watched from a distance but never expected for himself.
he stands motionless as soldiers around him are tapped out by loved ones. he watches quietly, feeling a distant sense of satisfaction for them, grateful that they have that in their lives.
maybe soap would tap him out after he’d seen to his own family.
no matter how many times simon tried to keep him at arm’s length, he’d come to accept that soap wasn’t leaving him behind. coerced into the friendship or not, soap was a friend. until soap has been tapped out, there’s no one in simon’s life to come pick him out.
still, simon knew he was alone in ways he couldn’t change. or so he believes.
then he feels it—a subtle shift in the air, hesitant footsteps halting just in front of him, carrying a weight he doesn’t understand. his breath catches, but he doesn’t move. he’s trained to hold his position, but something in him almost falters as he senses a presence just inches away. slowly, he lets his gaze shift, barely, enough to catch a silhouette he thought he’d left behind a lifetime ago.
it’s you.
you. his childhood best friend. the love of his life.
you. the only person he thought of when he escaped his broken home. you. the guilt that wracked him when he ran, unable to say goodbye after the night he barely escaped after being beat nearly to death. you. the only reason he wanted to be alive, and the person he hadn’t been able to look back for.
—you. you. you.
and now here you are, standing before him, eyes wide with hope and uncertainty, tears gathering at the corners like unsaid words held back for too long.
he doesn’t understand, not fully. he thought he’d locked that door, left that part of him sealed away. and yet, here you are, holding everything he thought he’d left behind.
you hesitate, the weight of the years pressing down between you, unsure if you’re allowed to do this. if you can reach out to him after all this time, to be the one who taps him out.
he senses your uncertainty, feels it as if it’s his own, and in that moment, he lets a flicker of vulnerability break through—a slight furrow in his brow, a subtle nod. silent permission.
and you know, in that instant, it’s okay.
with a trembling hand, you reach forward, closing the distance. your hand hovers over his shoulder for a heartbeat, the air between you heavy with everything left unsaid.
then, gently, you tap him out. a simple touch, light and fleeting, yet it breaks something open in both of you.
in an instant, simon moves. his arms come around you, his grip unyielding as he pulls you close, lifting you off the ground. the soldier falls away, and he’s just simon again, holding you as if you’re the only real thing in a world that’s constantly shifting.
his head lowers, his face buried in your shoulder, and he breathes you in, lets the walls he’s held up for years fall away.
‘you’re here,’ he murmurs, voice rough, thick with emotion he can’t hide anymore.
his hand cradles the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair, each touch soft, a silent promise. the weight of years and regret presses against him, but he holds you tighter, as if to make up for every moment he was gone.
you feel the warmth of his tears against your shoulder, silent and raw. he pulls you closer still, as if afraid to let go, his voice barely a whisper as he breathes, ‘i’m sorry, lovie. i’m so damn sorry. i’ll never leave you behind again. i promise.’
and in that moment, surrounded by echoes of lives left behind, he’s just simon again, the boy who belonged with you.
. ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ an. i know the tap-out tradition isn’t common in the uk and is usually done at the airforce but oh well. read part 2 here.
#call of duty#cod#cod x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley blurbs#simon riley headcanons#simon riley x reader#task force 141#simon ghost riley blurbs#simon ghost riley headcanons#simon ghost riley headcanon#angst#simon riley fanfiction#ghost headcanons#ghost cod#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost angst#cod ghost#cod fanfic#simon riley x you#call of duty ghost#simon ghost riley x you
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Countdown to Love - Making the Most of the Days Until Your Long-Distance Relationship Reunion
This is your chance to ignite the passion and build anticipation as you count down the days to your Long-Distance Relationship Reunion! You’ve thought about this moment for ages, and now it’s time to maximize every second until you’re in each other’s arms again. Don’t let the distance drain your excitement — instead, use it to channel your energy into creating unforgettable experiences that can…
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Words Are Things
Counting Seconds I once knew how to pace myself.But you had to come along and disrupt the rhythm of the routine.Now, I’m counting the seconds to the hour and the day,as I inch closer to that moment with you.It takes getting used to peeling my eyes away from the screen of my phone and detaching feelings from clipped words condensed in the interest of time.As you launch yourself into my arms and…
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#Anticipation#Argument#Connection#Disruption#Distance#Endurance#Erwinism#Experience#Fate#Fish#FYP#Garden#Harmony#Healing#Hope#Inspiration#Intimacy#Learning#Life#Longing#Love#Motivation#Poem#Poetry#Progress#Reflection#Renewal#Reunion#Routine#Scars
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#flight#sky#nature#encounter#longing#birds#hope#distances#reunion#farewell#return#dreams#horizons#pixel art
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Ah- there's the stable. See it?
No?
I see it.
#*salem points into the distance. you can just make out the stable from here.*#salem pineberry#lumi ness en#wren ryll#long awaited reunions
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