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myelocin · 4 years

Text

Cradle | Sakusa Kiyoomi, Iwaizumi Hajime

Synopsis: First is love; in the forms over the years you come to know. Then second is grief and loss; and how the struggle that comes with it defines and reshapes you. And finally third is acceptance, where you realize that the awakening to love and life’s questions have always just been in the palm of your hand.

This story is for those who shielded themselves from love before it could even hit them.

Characters/Pairings: Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader x Iwaizumi Hajime | Seijoh 3rd years (friendship)

Genre/Tags/Warnings: Slice of Life, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Slow burn, Seijoh4!Friendship, Cellist!Sakusa, Musician!Reader, Hajime lmao, Mutual Pining, Love Triangle, Happy Ending!!, Character death, mentions of spiraling

WC: 17.5k

a/n: a month long wip! this one is all for you, mom. i broke my heart writing down these memories, but i hope you read this on the other side. + big thank you to @introvertedfangirlpower for the cello facts! really helped me :)

playlist: Message to Myself - Roo Panes

ko-fi | commissions

For you, love began in the unknown.

You say unknown because you don’t remember much of your childhood other than the flashes of residual warmth that came with the memory of your mother. For as long as you can remember, she always felt like that: warm and familiar—like home.

Her presence like the warmth that stays on your coffee mug long after you’ve consumed your drink. Warmth like sitting in front of a fireplace as you watch the last bits of firewood extinguish in the flames.

And your fondest memory perhaps—warm like the hands that cup your face and kiss your forehead every morning before you left for school.

The early years in your life meant days spent in planted gardens outside of a kitchen window where the pink and yellow flowers bloom in the spring, and jumping in the fallen leaves raked in a pile centered in the backyard in the late autumn.

Then in the winters, when it became too cold to lay in blankets in the backyard stargazing for constellations—you’d spend the Christmas nights listening to bedtime stories about her time traveling the world you have yet to explore. “You’ll fall in love with seeing what’s out there,” you recall her saying as she tucks you in bed with the green blanket she knitted for you when you were a baby.

Though you suppose even if you loved the winter months with her the best—you could never go wrong with sipping the iced tea she’d leave for you on the porch in the afternoons you spent outside in the summers. The iced tea she made was always the best: never too sweet, and never too bland either.

And for the most part of your childhood, your father was absent. You didn’t really care; his absent never lingered. So even when the bratty kid from the classroom next to yours would brag about the brand new jacket her papa bought her from a trip overseas—you didn’t care. The jacket you wore was still the same one from last year, and the scarf wrapped around you was the one she knitted two winters ago, but the way she wrapped you up and kissed your nose made the taunting escape your mind.

Your mother would tell you stories about the times when you were a baby and of how she’d tuck you in nice and snug in your blanket whenever she felt the room was too cold and then fan you out when the temperature rose. Apparently, when you were a baby you never cried too much so she was left to guess whether you felt comfortable enough with the room’s temperature or not. She always finished the story by saying you smiled at her either way so she supposes she guessed right every time.

You don’t question it because she guesses right every time.

During father daughter dances that were annually held in your school, your mother always made sure to take the day off of work early so the two of you would have dinner some place nice instead. Her jokes were better than the ones your dad halfheartedly chucked your way when he did come to visit anyway, so you didn’t mind.

Your father ringing you up three hours before the dance with the last minute classic excuse of “sudden meeting today, I’m sorry.” didn’t bother you as much as you think it should have when your mom was right next to you ready to tell you another story from her younger days.

Her “younger days” as she liked to call it was always a favorite topic of hers that she always returned to from time to time. At eight years old, it felt like there was so much of the world still to explore and despite her telling you to live your childhood to the fullest, you didn’t ask what it meant and requested to hear an encore of the story she just finished telling.

She’d smile and you’d hear her tell you that no, and that you should have listened, but you know during the “father daughter” dinners shared between the two of you, she was extra soft and that it would take nothing more than pleading eyes and one more “please” before she’d relent and tell the story again.

She was always enough; every second with her felt just right—and if there’s something you never regret during your childhood, it’s those times where you’d ignore the teasing of having “no dad to dance with” from your childhood bullies because you were more than content with the superwoman who raised you anyway.

If there was someone in your childhood other than your mom who never hesitated to hold your hands—it was the boy who lived right down the street: Iwaizumi Hajime.

“He looks a little scruffy,” your mom used to tell you and you’d shrug at her words because to ten year old you, she did have a point. Boys were icky.

His family didn’t move in your street until you turned ten years old, but according to the Oikawa family who lived next door—the Iwaizumi family had already been one of their long term friends. Tooru, the pretty boy who was your next door neighbor and often brought you the Christmas cookies you’ve come to love every December didn’t hesitate to knock on your door and ask your mom for permission to bring you out and play.

Tooru was okay, you thought; he had nice hair and a pretty smile even though he wore alien t-shirts every chance he could get. But, he was always kind enough to remember that you preferred almonds in your cookies instead of the cashews the recipe called for. So when your mother looked at you for your answer, you nodded shyly before running to your room to grab the jacket and scarf she reminded you to wear. The chill from autumn’s air has been settling in the region lately, so you let her wrap the scarf around you tightly before you left.

She did the same for both Tooru and his mystery friend, and you could only nod proudly when Tooru introduced his friend to your mother with, “This is (l/n)-san, she’s the nicest auntie here!”

You don’t notice the boy who walks quietly beside Tooru until the three of you reach the park. When you do finally notice him, you subconsciously find yourself moving a little closer to Tooru, your puffy cheeks hidden in the layers your scarf buried you in.

“Oh!” Tooru suddenly exclaims like he just had an epiphany.

“(Y/n),” he says as he turns to you and grabs the sleeve of your jacket, “—this is Iwa-chan. My bestest friend!”

Iwa-chan, the boy introduced to you peeks at you from Tooru’s left side and puffs his cheeks, “My name is Iwaizumi Hajime, nice to meet you.”

“Hello, I’m (y/n),” you reply and tentatively hold your hand out as an offer for him to shake, “nice to meet you Iwaizumi-san.”

His cheeks turn red at your words and you fight the urge to laugh at how silly it looks with his pout when he says, “You can call me Hajime. Nice to meet you too.”

Beside you, Tooru must have thought that his friend was taking too long to respond because he sighs loudly and grabs Hajime’s hand and clasps it on yours. “Iwa-chan, you’re supposed to shake her hand! Not stare.”

The red tinting his cheeks turn into a couple shades darker as he shakes your hand and turns his head to the side after muttering something along the lines of, “Baka-kawa.”

You smile at him when he faces you, and then smile even wider when the blush on his cheeks turn even redder. Maybe it’s just the cold air, you think, but none the less it suited him.

His hair was a little scruffy and he liked to wear Godzilla t-shirts under his jackets, but his cheeks blushed a pretty shade of red when you smiled at him so when your mom asks how your day with Tooru and the new neighbor went, you smile at her and say, “Mama I made a new friend!”

Hajime seemed nice, you suppose.

And you’re right because Hajime was always kind; he smiled in a way that had you smiling along with him in mere seconds. Though he was a little rougher with Tooru, Hajime always made it his mission to make sure he held your hand—if you needed it—when you needed to jump down a big step; the ever present blush on his cheeks when you’d beam at him stayed regardless of whatever season so you suppose you can’t blame it on the cold air anymore.

During your summer breaks, the three of you would spend the afternoons in your mother’s backyard sipping iced tea and catching cicadas. Tooru, along with you, would whine about how gross bugs were but you’d sooner relent than him when a pout began to form on Hajime’s face.

“You don’t have to,” Hajime says and takes a seat next to you on the swing next to the rosebushes. Tooru, from a far would yell triumphantly before tossing the volleyball he’d brought with him from home again. You, on the other hand could never have it in you to see Hajime upset so you’d pick up one of the three nets he’d brought with him and nod towards the garden.

“It’s okay!” you say and offer him a sweet smile when he’d look up, “as long as you keep the worms away from me then it’s okay!”

“I’ll keep them away,” he replies suddenly looking excited. Hajime jumps from the swings to grab another net and tugs at your hand to run towards the garden; he chooses to ignore the look on Tooru’s face when the latter shoots him a knowing smirk.

Bugs were never your thing and there was also never a day where you thought you’d be out in the garden running hand in hand with a boy trying to catch cicadas on a summer afternoon—when you’d much prefer to be sitting in a picnic blanket with the family dog who always nudged your hand for belly rubs. But then again, when you see Hajime, the kind boy with the infectious smile who always held your hand when you crossed the street or jumped from big steps, beam at you with his laughs ringing in the air—you conclude that it can’t be so bad after all.

When the sun would set and the three of you would let go of all the cicadas you caught, your mom would sit the three of you down for dinner and talk about your days.

“Ah, youth,” your mother would comment and you’d nod along, smiling because if this is what she meant by the beauty of youth—then you don’t ever want to let this go. If youth meant summer afternoons spent catching cicadas, festivals in the autumn, hot cocoas in winter, and picnics in the spring with Hajime and Tooru then you decided you really don’t want to let it go.

You think that especially when you look at the table across you as you smile at Tooru shoveling his dinner down and smiling at your mom because she was the bestest cook ever and laugh when Hajime’s always the one offering to pass the salt or the dish your mother asked for.

“Haji is really smart, mama,” you say looking up at the woman seated next to you and Tooru would whole heartedly agree then mutter something about “Iwa-chan” being really good at arm wrestling. Hajime would flush with the familiar shade of red you’ve grown accustomed to at Tooru’s comment but tell your mother a polite thank you when she’d clap her hands together and agree with Tooru’s compliment.

That night when your mother tucked you in for the night and moved to turn off the lights in the bedroom, she tells you that Hajime and Tooru are nice boys and that she’s glad you befriended the both of them.

You tell her goodnight and smile into your covers, feeling warm at the thought of your mother’s words, Tooru’s laughter, and Hajime’s kind smile.

High school was a strange time for the three of you.

Strange, in the sense that even though the three of you maintained the closeness of the friendship you’ve shared since childhood—certain things factored in the evident shift in some relationships.

Tooru was one example.

You would give up an arm for him in a heartbeat if it meant it would save his life, but at the same time, there are some moments where you wouldn’t hesitate to rip off his arm just to get him to shut up.

He’s always been perceptive, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise when he came to your house one day, plopped himself on the beanbag he claimed to be “his spot” at the corner of your desk, look you dead in the eye, and declare, “You have the hots for Iwa-chan don’t you?”

Internally, you wince at the statement but outwardly maintain the air of nonchalance you’ve mastered over the years. Tapping your pen on Tooru’s forehead, you click your tongue, “If you don’t finish your essay by today, I’m not gonna edit it for you.”

“You’re changing the topic, (y/n),” Tooru quips and if the conversation was about something different, you’d smile at the sing-song tone he was using.

“Changing what?” You ask.

“(Y/n),” Tooru replies, dragging out the last syllable of your name, “—you’re so obvious, even Makki and Mattsun could tell.”

“Could tell what?” comes Hajime’s voice from the doorway.

You let out a sigh because in a way you’re thankful for Hajime’s impeccable timing in entering your room. You turn your head and glance at him from your desk, offering him a lazy wave as a greeting.

“Iwa-chan!” Tooru exclaims and scrambles on the beanbag to sit up properly. “How much have you heard?”

“Were you talking about something important?” Hajime asks with a flat tone as he sits on your bed and pulls out his laptop.

“Your mom asked me and Oikawa to stay for dinner tonight, by the way. That cool with you?” he asks.

You look at him, the expression on your face quizzical, “Haji, you guys always stay for dinner. Mama and I love having you two around.”

From your peripheral vision, you could see Tooru look between you and Hajime back and forth and for once you’re glad he chose to stay silent.

But then when a familiar tinge of red falls on Hajime’s cheeks and you smile fondly at him, Tooru suddenly hollers, “(Y/n), that’s what I mean. You totally have the hots for Iwa-chan!”

Hajime’s eyes widen as you slap a hand over your face.

Today was one of the days where you decide you want to rip Tooru’s arm off.

Dinner later that night was, to put it bluntly, awkward.

You figured your mom must have already read the atmosphere by now but as of the moment all you could really do was shoot glares towards Tooru from across the table. Usually, the seating arrangement would be like this: you sat next to your mom, Tooru right across you, and Hajime diagonal from you.

Tonight, Tooru decided that it was time to “switch things up” and traded seats with Hajime.

“Ahh, this feels nice,” he says as he sits in the chair inches away from the chair where he sat for years.

“Boys,” your mother begins, “I heard you both got into the volleyball team.”

Tooru beams at her through a mouthful of pasta. “Yeth!” he chimes and Hajime elbows him on the side reminding him to eat properly before responding. You, along with your mother give a soft laugh at their interaction.

“How are you three liking high school so far? I expect the two of you to get rid of any boys who have bad intentions towards (y/n),” your mother says as she sips on her wine. Internally, you groan, because this was a conversation you would much prefer to not have. Especially in front of Tooru, you decide when he grins with an undertone of something you could only guess was anything but good. You shoot him a warning look; Tooru decides it’s a good day to ignore you.

Over the years, you made your appreciation known towards Hajime’s amazing timing. It was like he had a sixth sense when it came to either you, Tooru, or the both of you simultaneously. He had always managed to round the corner right as the passing university boys would spot you alone by the convenience store, catch Tooru before he did anything too drastic whenever he blamed himself a little too harshly for a loss from a particularly bad game, or like earlier that night—walk into a room interrupting a conversation you would rather avoid altogether.

This current situation was not one of those times.

Hajime took a bite. Your eyes were still locked on Tooru who did everything but look in your direction.

“I don’t think that’s a problem, (L/n)-san,” he said and leaned forward. Your mother next to you raised an eyebrow in question and muttered an, “oh?”

Hajime took another bite, still oblivious to the current conversation. You still looked at Tooru who smiled at you in a way that had you gripping the fork in your hand a little tighter.

“No scary boys around (y/n), at all! Isn’t that right, Iwa-chan?” Tooru exclaims and looks at his best friend next to him who was still engrossed in his plate of food. You hold your breath looking at Hajime as you wait for his response.

“Huh? Yeah. Anyway, this new recipe is really good (l/n)-san,” he finally says and nods towards your mother. Tooru clasps his hands together, smiling.

“Personally,” Tooru begins, “I think Iwa-chan and (y/n) would be the most perfect couple!”

You run your hands over your face, already feeling the heat crawling up your neck. Feeling your mother’s stare you let out a sigh and face her. “Mom-“

“Hajime! That’s great! I was wondering when the two of you would get together, it’s literally been years.”

You stare at her. Hajime stares at her; pasta sauce is smeared on the corner of his lips.

“I know, imagine being the third wheel this whole time!” Tooru comments.

“Hajime’s a nice boy,” your mother tells you as you join her in the living room after Tooru and Hajime returned home.

“We’re not, a thing, mom,” you say despite her laughing at your tone.

“I didn’t say you two were a thing.”

You open your mouth, but eventually close it when you come short of a response. She had a point.

“Mom,” you groan, “Haji is nice. Tooru is nice. Both of them are nice.”

“I know that, (y/n), you’re just being defensive now,” she laughs and you can’t find a retort so you huff in response.

When the room is dips into silence, you grab the familiar green blanket folded on the corner of the couch and take a seat next to her. She looks at you when you lean against her shoulder and drape the blanket over the two of you.

“(Y/n),” your mother says softly.

“Yeah?” you respond, looking up to catch her gaze—the kind where it’s steady and soft.

“Never lose yourself if you decide to give your heart to someone. I raised you well enough and no boy should ever make you feel like you’re taking two steps back,” you know she doesn’t say it to spite Hajime, but the message and advice in her words reach you anyway.

“Never in a million years.”

You know your mother means well because everything she’s done so far was because it was for your sake. Her credit of being a good mom was well deserved: a full time nurse and a full time mother wasn’t an easy feat but she did it—and not a day goes by where you felt like you had to fight for her time.

And because of that, you knew in your heart that Hajime knew the both of you enough to understand the dynamic you had with her; for that, you were always thankful.

True to Tooru’s words, it only took the both of you six more months of back and forth bickering in your room before you eventually built up enough courage to stand in front of Hajime with your confession written neatly in jet black ink on paper tucked inside the pink envelope Tooru had demanded you to use.

He was quiet, and staring at you long enough for your cheeks to turn as pink as the envelope you were holding that it had you beginning to wrack your brain for excuses to turn and walk in the opposite direction. Only, when you looked up, cheeks flushed and the “Sorry I think I have to be home early to put my fish to sleep,” at the tip of your tongue—you stop because Hajime’s looking at anywhere but you and because his entire face is red.

You still have the envelope awkwardly stretched out towards him so when you move in attempt to retract it, his hands are suddenly clasped over your wrists and he’s looking at you, red face and all, saying, “W-wait—“

The both of you must have been quite the spectacle for the way you’re staring at each other, red faced, and waiting for the other to begin speaking because you could definitely make out Takahiro and Issei’s snorting from some feet away.

“—shit,” Hajime continues and the way he’s still staying silent and going back to avoiding your gaze has you tugging your wrists out of his hold and sheepishly telling him, “Sorry, this is a little awkward isn’t it?”

You’re standing in front of Hajime with your hands holding the letter behind your back and an awkward smile on your face.

“(Y/n), this is really weird—“ he begins and you’re shaking your head automatically at his attempt to soften the blow by waving your arms—and the letter—in front of him saying, “Haji! No! It’s okay you don’t have to say anything, this was a really bad idea—“

“No, I mean—“ he cuts you off then pauses as he’s sifting through the contents of his bag and pulling out a slightly crumpled envelope, the color a disturbingly identical to your own.

You look at Hajime. Hajime looks at you, at his envelope, then towards yours that paused with your hand midair. Issei and Takahiro’s laughter can be heard even louder from the background when Hajime runs his hands over his face and exclaims,

“Oikawa you son of a bitch.”

Two years and some months ago, Oikawa Tooru—the self-proclaimed “love guru” between you and Hajime had declared to have pulled off his “greatest plan.”

Apparently, the original plan called for only you to confess to Hajime via the classic love letter—but Issei and Takahiro had thought that the shits and giggles were worth to have both of you confess to each other at the same time instead.

Tooru always retells the story in the fashion where he leaves out Issei and Hiro’s names out of the credits. On the contrary, you and Hajime don’t have in in you to react much.

In the beginning, Hajime the friend held your hand through many of your highs and lows.

From age ten, he’d always make sure to hold your hand when you’re jumping from steps a little too far for your liking. At twelve, he’s holding your hand as he leads you away from the worms that found its way near the picnic blanket. At fifteen, when the two of you accidentally confessed to each other thanks to your friends’ schemes, he held your hand as he pulled you in the direction opposite of Tooru yelling, “Iwa-chan, don’t forget I’m the best wingman!”

Hajime, the boyfriend, had continued to hold your hand as well as share a multitude of your first throughout the years.

Your first date where he’d always let you walk on the correct side of the sidewalk, and make sure to squeeze your hand whenever the two of you would pass by a group of boys who let their stare linger. Your first kiss—a quick peck after a game where he’d rushed to you, lifting you up and planting a kiss on your lips before either of you could even process what was happening.

A reassuring hand on your back in the train ride during rush hour, kisses on your knuckles when he thought no one was around in quiet libraries, and your favorite: the feel of his thumbs tracing idle circles on the back of your hand when you’re watching him review the game you recorded earlier.

You were each other’s first “I love you,” when you’re seventeen, which was said in the hours between the day and night on your walk home down a quiet street you’ve skipped, ran, and biked across countless of times. You heard it break the silence before you said it with your own lips, because the way Hajime said it was like he was just talking about the weather that day.

When the two of you stop in front of your house and Hajime’s facing you, he’s smiling in the way that has you blushing instead of him this time and he’s looping your scarf even snugger around your neck after muttering some comment about how cold it was that day.

“Haji, did you just tell me you love me?” you ask him when he’s zipped up your jacket and you’re peeking at him under the various layers of the scarf he secured around you.

“Yeah, of course, I love you.”

“This is the first time you’re telling me that,” you say with an almost bashful expression and your eyes are cast down so you don’t end up seeing Hajime’s eyes widen at the realization dawning on him.

“(Y/n), shit—“

“I love you too, Haji,” you cut him off and even if the expression in his face is still a little apologetic at the lack of climax of your first exchange of I love yous, he’s holding your hands and pulling you flush against him in an embrace, his proclamation of more “I love yous” fluttering against your ear in warm breaths.

You think about it sometime later when you’re clearing up the plates on the table from dinner and you ask your mom, “how do you know when it’s right to tell someone I love you?” and she looks at you with an expression that says she knows exactly what you’re talking about but humors your attempt at nonchalance as she replies with, “It just slips out as if you’re talking about the weather.”

And the way she says it has the second thoughts just automatically leaving your head. You tell her “I love you,” in the mornings before she leaves for work and you don’t really think about it—not because it’s a passing comment, but because you just simply love her.

The feeling’s there because what you feel in the moment is as genuine as it can get, so when you think about Hajime from seven years ago who blushed red when you shook his hand and the Hajime seven hours ago who told you he loved you like he was talking about the weather—everything dawns on you in the way that feels right. No second thoughts, deep analysis, or euphoric moment.

>> to hajibug:

>> 23:50: i love you

In college you decided to pursue music as a career choice. Music was one of the many things you and your mother had bonded over but watching you play in first chair always gave you the best view of her beaming from the audience.

Whenever somebody asked you why you decided to pursue a career in the field as vague and competitive as music—for a long time you fumbled with your words as you struggled to piece together a coherent enough sentence that would make it seem like you were chasing something for a “deeper” reason. Though, the truth is—you just happen to enjoy it.

The way the shoulder rest snapped perfectly in place with the violin, the weight of the bow in your hand, the smell of rosin during practice, the tuning before the concert started before hearing the eventual mess mold together into one harmony—you loved every second of it.

On the final concert of your first year in college, a week before Hajime’s move to California you stood in the orchestra room reading a text from your mother saying that she couldn’t make it this time because of a doctor’s appointment running later than usual.

You still sat in the first chair of the first violins section and even though you would have loved nothing more than to see her smile at you from the crowd—it was in the coda of the final song where your eye finally catches Hajime watching you from her seat. When the violins put their instruments down in the measures of rests, you glance over to look at Hajime while your toe continued to tap the counts remaining until you’d play again.

You bite back a smile because he looked a little uncomfortable from the high collar of the suit he put on. Tooru’s probably the mastermind, your thoughts chime in as you smile and tuck the violin back in between your chin and shoulder, your rosin covered bow hovering over the E string.

And when the final count of the rests came and went, you could only smile as you see Hajime physically hold his breath as the violins amplified the crescendo of the climax.

It was later that night when you finally made it home that you realize that perhaps your favorite part of the song was when you felt the emphasis of the dynamics in the pieces you played.

The moment of absolute silence as the conductor draws everyone’s attention to the tip of the baton.

“(Y/n),” your mother starts and your eyes lock on the slight tremble in her hands.

The seemingly collective sharp breath everyone takes when the tip of the baton begins to signal the final counts until the start. Your fingers pressed on the first note as your bow hovers over the string.

“What’s wrong?” you ask but you let your fingers only ghost on her hands when she holds her silence, refusing to meet your eyes.

Sometimes it begins with a quiet note—and you smile at those because it sounds like a whisper despite it ringing in the auditorium.

“I’m sick,” she says and what she says doesn’t register in your head.

Other times, the first note comes in forte and leaves everyone in a resonating silence while the following notes interlace and begin to tell the story.

“I have cancer, (y/n),” she tells you again, louder this time and her sobs echo so loud in the silence of the house that it suddenly makes you want to throw your hands over your ears.

The conductor is waving the baton; you’re closing your eyes as you mold yourself with the music and focus on nothing but your fingers flying across the fingerboard and making sure the timing of your bow matches the tap of the rhythm set.

“Mom, you’ll be fine right?” comes your assurance in question and she’s not answering because she’s crying harder.

First position to third, then fourth, then something else you don’t quite remember as the pressure from your bow presses harder and harder on the strings to climb with the crescendo the orchestra is rising to.

She looks at you, glassy eyes and trembling lips, then holds your face in between warm hands as she presses her forehead against yours.

Then as the baton drops and the crescendo overflows—the air around the room instantly changes. The shoulders relax and the movement of the bow shift from staccato to legato as the music continues to flow.

“I’m scared to leave you alone,” she finally admits and you finally break down and cry with her because you realize you have no one but each other.

You cry because she’s crying at the thought of leaving you alone when she never cried at all the times your father chose another family over her.

And as the music decrescendos into the whispers of pianissimo, you close your eyes as the gentle sway eventually lulls to a stop.

It’s half past ten and you’re still in your formal wear, but your mom’s fast asleep on the couch. The air from the AC brings you to a light shiver so you shuffle closer and pull the blankets tighter around her frame.

The last note drops and resonates in an almost infinite echo. Your eyes snap back open you feel yourself exhale.

For a moment the auditorium is in silence.

You sit on the floor next to her and listen to the sounds of steady breathing. You could pretend it was just another movie night where she fell asleep on the couch, but the telltale tracks of tears are on her cheeks and you hear her sniffling from time to time so you sigh instead.

Then, the audience erupts in an applause.

In your room, you put your palm over your mouth and begin to cry again.

“I love you so much,” is what Hajime said two years down the road when he decided to move to California to finish his studies.

First, he’d made a stop at your home and sat with your mother over breakfast as she wished him well on his new adventure. By the time he was at the door, it was the first time you saw Hajime cry for and with her when she wraps him in a scarf she knitted just for him. You watch softly, as he wraps her in a hug and parts with a promise to always take care of you despite the distance and wishes for her healing.

You’re standing at the border of the gate only Hajime can cross where he’s wrapped you in a hug with his chin resting on your head.

“I love you so much,” he says and you nod your head against his chest. He’s saying it as naturally as he always has and your reply is as immediate and natural when you say, “I love you too, Haji. So much.”

“(Y/n),” he starts when he pulls away from you and looks you in the eye; he’s suddenly serious and you’re afraid.

“If you ever feel like you don’t want to keep doing this, then we can take a break.”

Your brows pinch together as you reply, “Why would I want to break up with you?”

“I’m not saying we will, I just don’t want you to shoulder too much because I know how much you’re hurting right now,” Hajime explains, and his eyes are as genuine as the tone of his voice.

“Haji—“

“I believe in you, though, just—“ he pauses and his eyes soften before he continues, “take things one day at a time and remember that I’m here loving you every day, okay?”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” he finishes and you only nod at his words because the fact that you’re going to miss him really begins to hit you. Hajime’s looking at you in the tender way where you know he knows you’re about to cry because he pulls you in another embrace before kissing the top of your head as he murmurs his parting I love you in the quiet tone only you can hear.

When Hajime crosses the gate and turns the corner, you can’t help but bite your lip to keep from crying. Only a couple more years. You could take it.

It’s in the next eight months where you realize that while Iwaizumi Hajime shared your first love—he was also your first heartbreak.

They always said that long distance was difficult and the fact that you and Hajime were even trying was commendable enough. But that was the problem—commendable sounded like you were in the relationship for the sake of a prize. Like you were suffering through the now for a prize. Like the good part was only a one-time thing reserved at the end.

It felt wrong, and looking back at it now—perhaps that’s where the downfall began.

As time passed, your mom’s illness worsened. Cancer was ugly and it let itself be known in as many ways as it could. Time and time again, you’d watch her hair fall in strands, then clumps, until she eventually decided to shave it off for good. She smiled at you and you don’t hear her tell you, “It’s okay,” over the buzz of the razor. You don’t think you have the heart to listen to the quiver of her voice that you know is present with her words, so you suppose the loud buzz worked out in the end.

What broke your heart the most was seeing her excitement when her hair grew back after a pause in her treatment—only for her to sit down and tell you that she’s “okay” when you’re shaving off sections of her hair again.

You didn’t let her see you cry because you wanted to be as strong as she was in this; because you knew the both of you broke down within enclosed walls away from each other. Though every time you were face to face—the front was always back up. And the front was flawless; like the edges of a chipped sword finally smoothened back into a blade. But at the same time, flawed; because like the sword—the sharpness always kills.

It was unconventional, but it worked. The momentary sigh of relief was still moments of relief at the end of the day.

Hajime, on the other hand thought differently though. The second you’d answer his call request on particularly off days, he’d tell you to cry. And you would; fat drops of tears rolling down almost as soon as he finished his sentence.

Then only a year of loving each other through a computer screen passed before you realized he became your pillar at the same time you began hardening.

“Never lose yourself in the pursuit of someone or something,” are the words from your mother you consciously make an effort to tell yourself everyday even as you sit in with your phone in hand waiting for the call Hajime promised you early this morning.

And you’re well aware you’ve developed an unhealthy habit as you’re lying in bed, fighting sleep with the time on the clock nearing 4am still waiting for Hajime’s call. It wasn’t the first time he missed a promised phone call—and you weren’t mad because you understand that he has as much of a schedule as you do and that time difference was a wedge the two of you needed to work with.

But still, you think, then sigh when you put your arm over your eyes as the clock clicks to 04:07AM beside you, this fucking sucks.

You know Hajime will text you an apology when it’s seven am for you and late at night for him, but you put your phone’s ringer on silent to convince yourself that you’re fine and you’re not dependent on his presence at all. That you’re handling yourself just fine and that the anxiety you have every time your mother comes back home from a checkup is something you can deal with by yourself.

You shut your eyes when the dull ache in your chest begins to grow sharper as your thoughts shift from school, to your mom’s illness, to Hajime, and to the fact that you want to cry at the heaviness of everything.

And the frustration is eating you alive because you hate feeling this helpless. Not when your mother taught you nothing but how to be strong your whole life. Not when all you should know is how to stand on your own two feet despite whatever the situation life throws at you.

So when the morning comes and you wake up to a plethora of Hajime’s missed calls and frantic texts asking if you’re okay—you text him an assurance that you’re fine and that he shouldn’t worry about it.

You face the day with everything you feel pushed to the back of your mind. You face the mirror and tell yourself that you’re fine.

Hanamaki’s a good friend, and a lot smarter than you give him credit for.

It didn’t fly past him when you left for phone on silent or chose to spend your break with him or Mattsun when you usually would utilize that time for Hajime. But at the same time, he noticed you spacing out in conversations a little more than usual, reject any plans they invited you in, and his least favorite—see you break down in the practice room when you thought no one was around.

Neither he nor Issei chose to tell Hajime or you about it; he could never understand what you were going through—but he understood that the way someone heals differs from person to person.

It took about a few more months of Hajime’s schedule piling up and your silent breakdowns for the both of you to finally snap and confront one another.

It started with Hajime telling you a round of an apology, “I’m sorry, I promise I’ll call you on time—I just,”

“—shit everything’s just crazy. I’m sorry, babe.”

Then you nod and absent mindedly twirl one strand of your hand as you force his apology in one ear and out the other. You were fine. You’re handling things well. You didn’t need Hajime as a support system, so you reply, “It’s fine. I got this.”

And you like to think it was going well, but he asks, “How’s your mom doing?” and your hands are suddenly gripping the edge of the table (where you know he can’t see) tight. You didn’t tell him that she cried from the results when she came home earlier and waved you off when you stood up to help her balance herself. That thirty minutes ago you could hear her yell at your father over the phone about something she didn’t tell you about and that at the moment, you’re thankful for the way your fingers were digging into your skin because it’s helping you re shift your focus into anything but what was going on.

Hajime’s not looking at you because he’s looking at the report he was typing on his laptop instead. So first, you hype yourself up by thinking about how you don’t need anyone to push you through things and that how you’re handling yourself and the situation was more than fine, then, you answer,

“She’s okay, too.”

You try to ignore how gritty it sounded; Hajime doesn’t seem to notice either.

You’re quiet after that and Hajime must have thought it was odd because he pauses his work to look at you and ask, “Are you okay?”

And he says it with such a gentle tone that you suddenly want to crumble and tell him about the heaviness that hasn’t left you since the day your mom began slipping. But a knock from Hajime’s door and a distant call of his name snaps you out of those thoughts. Hajime, on the other hand, ignores them and asks you the question again, which you wave off this time with a quick, “It’s okay you can call me when you’re done.”

He’s hesitant when he leaves and he shoots you a text seconds after his face leaves the screen but you don’t reply; you spend the rest of the night with your face pressed against the pillow while you will yourself to believe that you, alone, have everything under control.

And, really, you should have left it to end like that.

But you don’t; because when morning comes and you wake up feeling heavy, you’re left in a haze where everything feels muddled. And the feeling of screaming hits you so fast and so hard that the dam just breaks.

It’s seven am and you’re crying for reasons you can’t find a starting point to. The kind of cry where every heave hurts and makes you ball your fists because of an unsourced anger. It’s disorienting and frustrating because you’re not mad at specifically anything—but at the same time, everything feels like its swallowing you whole again. You wish you could blank out like the time she told you she was sick—even if it meant moving through your day hyper aware of your movements. But you can’t, because it’s one of those days where the heaviness just sits on your chest and forces you to face the fact that it hurts.

And you always say “it” because you don’t know where to begin. Because you never began; never sat down and looked at your reflection in the eye and asked yourself, “what was wrong?”

Because you’re fine.

Everything’s fine.

It’s still fine because when your phone is ringing, you answer with a fresh face and a smooth, hello.

Hajime greets you like usual, but then settles into a background that isn’t.

You don’t really care.

He asks you how you’ve slept, and you nod once as a reply. He’s chuckling and says something about you looking cute cuddled up in bed, still half asleep so you nod again to go along with his story. Underneath the sheets, you’re fisting the blankets as you count each breath you’ve inhaled and exhaled as Hajime begins to talk about his day.

Then someone, who you can’t recall you know, sits next to him with an arm casually draped over his shoulder and pushes her face near his as she waves a hello. Usually, you’re not much of the jealous type so something like that shouldn’t even be a red flag for you. Hajime was a friendly person all around, and time and time again he’s explained how different the American culture was from home.

Given that fact, on a normal situation it would have been fine. Understandable, even.

But before you could even begin smooth your thoughts back to rationality, you explode. Hajime’s facing away from you in a conversation where he can’t see, so you suppose that could have been a good thing.

Then, your anger comes out.

First, it trickles; you stay silent and opt to stare at him, seething when he finally begins a conversation. Hajime’s eyebrows shoot up just like that and he bids his friend a quick goodbye before rushing into an empty room.

Second, it pools. You tell him a series of things you don’t even think makes sense, but from the way his face morphs into a grimace—it wouldn’t take much to conclude that what you said was something ugly.

Third, you’re wading in waist deep. You’re sitting up and pointing at him, bringing up a photo you saw of him with his arms hung over someone’s shoulder. A classmate, you concluded last week; a lover, you accuse him of having in the moment.

Fourth, Hajime rushes to keep you from going in further. He doesn’t feed into your anger and instead tells you to take a deep breath before talking to him. And for a second, you relent and listen. He explains that she’s a classmate from his biology class and that you’re just overreacting over something that shouldn’t even be an issue.

Fifth, comes the struggle. Your anger flares at his words and everything you’ve felt and pushed underwater suddenly bobs to the surface. Hajime wasn’t at fault, and you know that, but he’s huffing in a way that tells you he’s inches past exhausted and it does nothing to quell your outburst.

“Maybe what you should do is listen to yourself and calm the fuck down,” is what he tells you as you flinch at his tone.

“Well, I’m sorry, for just wanting to talk to you Hajime,” is what you say as retaliation. Hajime’s hand that instantly flies up to soothe his temple doesn’t fly past you.

“We are talking, (y/n). Why are you trying to make me apologize for something I didn’t even do?”

“Why can’t you understand my point? This is exhausting, Hajime.”

“I told you from the beginning. If you didn’t want to keep doing this then we stop,” he retorts, anger steadily rising.

“You’re making it sound like you’re the one wanting to stop this,” you bite back.

“I don’t. But it’s like every time we talk nowadays it’s like you’re being too much, this doesn’t seem like you anymore,” Hajime finishes.

And as the silence settles, everything clicks. You’ve been too dependent, and he feels the same way. He’s right, this isn’t you at all. You shouldn’t need to cling to him to for crumbs of healing; because you’re more than fine.

Have been more than fine, really; so you blank and reply, “You’re right, sorry about that.”

He looks at you, confused, before the silence envelops the two of you again. You allow it to stay this time.

“Maybe we should take a break, (y/n). Just some time to cool off; I feel like we’re just too overloaded right now.”

“We should,” you reply, expression unfazed as you cut the call.

The sixth, is where you allow the anger to stay instead of recede. Your mother asks you how you’re feeling and you’re quick to answer that you’re okay.

Hajime doesn’t text you until an hour later, wanting to talk. You set your phone to silent.

“What made you decide to not get back together with dad?” you ask her when she’s quiet in front of you. Your mother looks at you for a while before she pieces the red eyes and silent phone together, then tells you, “I loved myself more.”

You nod, conflicted. Her eyes were as red as yours and you heard her weeping his name just the night before and she knows you’re aware. Your phone vibrates on the table again and you miss the way her eyes flicker to the device momentarily before focusing them back at you.

Both of you know, but neither of you ask.

“Never lose yourself, right?” you say quietly and she gives you a solid nod as she pours you a cup of coffee.

You never really liked coffee; then again, you never really liked the reality either.

But you take the mug and gulp in the bitterness anyway.

Then finally, the seventh is where you succumb under its waves. Hajime calls you later that night and you answer, expression honed into an almost natural state of indifference. He looks a little worse than you, but you ignore that.

“Is this it?” he asks and you nod curtly once, your fingernails already digging into your palms under the table.

“Are we going to hate each other?” Hajime asks you again and you sigh.

“I don’t have it in me to ever hate you, Haji,” you answer, truthfully and he gives you a halfhearted smile.

“I love you,” he says like he’s just talking about the weather, and stays on the line for a few seconds more before he eventually takes your silence as a response.

“I love you, too,” is what almost comes out of your mouth like second nature, but you bite your tongue anyway.

He can’t hurt you first this way.

Sakusa Kiyoomi didn’t really root himself in your life until nine months after your break up with Hajime. Graduation came and went like the unfurling of a leaf, and before you knew it, you’re suddenly in the real world.

Before that, you only knew him as the first chair cellist who you always accidentally locked eyes with in every concert you managed to snag the first chair spot in the first violin’s section.

Bumping into him during morning practice first led to string quartets, then duets during concerts, shared practice rooms—until eventually, he asked you out on a date.

He inserted the question in the conversation so naturally, too. After putting away the music stands, then shoving (in contrast to him neatly arranging) the sheet music into your folder—you were halfway done with loosening your bow when he asked, “Do you wanna get dinner later?” out of the blue.

To others who may have listened in to the conversation, it sounded like a natural invitation between friends, and Kiyoomi must have realized that because he was quick to face you after zipping up the case of his cello, and add, “—I meant dinner with me.”

You were still holding your bow and staring at him stare at you, so he filled the silence with, “Like a date. I’m asking you out on a date, (y/n).”

The two of you never really initiated anything outside the relationship between music partners, and the occasional friendly outing—but it had always been with others. Looking at him, you admit Sakusa Kiyoomi was a man who mastered hygiene. Which was always a bonus in your book. But you think back to Hajime for a second, then click your tongue quietly because you realize you shouldn’t be thinking about him when someone else was asking you out.

But you sigh and still offer him a smile when you reply, “Sorry I gotta watch my mom tonight. She’s not feeling well.”

Kiyoomi nods, and his eyebrows shoot up like he remembered something. “I heard your mom was sick? I’m sorry if I’m prying.”

You nod sharply once before internally groaning then thinking about how to steer the conversation away from the oncoming “I’m sorrys”, “It must be so tough,” or any sympathetic comments of the like.

But Kiyoomi only nods in understanding, briefly turning back to loop his arms through the case, then looking back at you again saying, “Ah. Understandable. My grandmother had cancer and my mom made her this soup that helped with the aching; I can give you the recipe for it.”

Your eyes shoot up at his response and the rehearsed response of, “I have no choice but to be tough for her. It’s okay, though,” dies in your mouth so you close it again and only nod a yes.

Kiyoomi turns to open the door once you had your own violin set inside and stands by the opening of the door to let you out first. You smile; he was mostly reserved, but still a gentleman.

“(Y/n),” he begins when the two of you walk side by side in the quiet morning hallway. “I know you don’t want to hear the pity comments, but I just wanna put it out there that you’re doing well.”

Your steps halt with his when you reach the end of the hallway where the flooring splits into two different directions but you face him, the thrumming of your heart feeling making you a little more choked up than you expected and tell him an honest thank you.

He lifts his right hand as a goodbye while he shoves the other in his pocket after he settles his mask in place, then turns to walk on the opposite direction.

“Sakusa-san!” you call out and he stops a few meters in front of you to turn back in your direction again.

“Dinner!” you call out again, “this weekend!”

You know your cheeks are a little more red than you would have liked and you’re more than aware of how white your knuckles must be from grasping the straps of your case, but you ignore that and add anyway, “As a date.”

The mask covering the lower half of his face obscures the expression he has but you notice the miniscule crinkle on the corner of his eyes when he laughs and replies, “Can you say that a little louder? I can’t hear.”

You huff and action to turn around because the heat on your face was getting a little too uncomfortable, but you hear him say, “It’s a date!” so you nod awkwardly in confirmation before turning your back and walking the opposite way.

You can imagine the look he has on his face and just how much amusement he’s gotten from the interaction but before you walk too far you hear, “Just call me Kiyoomi,” from him behind you.

You smile and feel as if you’re flipping into the first page of a new chapter.

In contrast to the push and pull energy you felt with Hajime, after almost being in a relationship with Kiyoomi for a year, things felt easy.

Communication between the two of you didn’t feel like unraveling codes; plus, being in the same department also meant your schedules mostly linked up. Though, personally, your favorite part was that he was never too pushy with the things you wanted to deal with alone.

He knew not to pry when you walked in the practice hall with bags under your eyes holding a cup of coffee you swore to heaven and back you detested drinking; you always saw a parcel of your comfort snack with a note laid beside your violin case in the locker room, though.

And when he ate dinner at your house, he also kept his comments to himself and never let his eyes wander to the amount of pills you had to help your mother count out when the little alarm in your phone rang. Then again, you never needed to question his intentions when he showed up the next day with a thermos filled with the soup your mom said she enjoyed once as a passing comment.

He’s always been one to remember the smaller details.

Along with preferring to stay in his personal space, Kiyoomi wasn’t one to smile too bashfully, but you can’t help but notice that when she laid her hands on his as a thank you and asked him to take care of you—the smile that graced his face looked warm.

She said that Kiyoomi seemed like a nice boy, and you agreed instantly—because he is.

He never pushed past the boundary you kept around yourself despite entering into a new relationship. There was a mutual air of respect—and neither of you expressed the desire to breech it.

Being with Kiyoomi felt as natural and in order to the flow as it does when your hands move to automatically loosen your bow when it came to packing up, or beginning with the A string when the conductor motioned for you to begin tuning.

You liked to think you fit quite well together. Like the duet that an audience listens to and clap at as if they were the whole orchestra. Like the blend of the high and low notes written on a score that collides in perfect harmony.

And it feels like it too.

Every time you’re seated across each other on the stage and you’re staring straight at one another to climb with the crescendo then descend into silence—you know that your heart, along with his, are beating in the same rhythm, with the same frequency. You’ve always found that break from the real world when you picked up an instrument and you’re glad that Kiyoomi’s the one you’re entering into that dimension with.

The ten minutes on stage feels timeless. The rush from the music still resonates in an infinite echo—your fingers twitching, craving, to fly across the notes in an encore. You’re smiling because when you stare at him—he’s smiling too. Unabashed and sparkling where you have no doubt in your mind that even without the stage lights he’d gleam the same.

And even as the crowd’s still cheering as you stand hand in hand and bow next to each other, you don’t hear anything. When reality begins to trickle into your senses and the rush of intoxication wears off, you let your smile mellow into a soft curve. You face the front row and look at the seat that’s a little towards the left and try not to notice your mother’s absence. You know she was admitted to the hospital three weeks ago and she hasn’t been doing too well. Kiyoomi squeezes your hand and whispers a, “you did well,” which you nod at.

He’s still smiling even as you exit the stage and pack up your instruments so you decide not to tell him that the boy sitting in that specific seat reminded you of Hajime.

Hajime, on the other hand became the contact on your inbox that got pushed down further and further when the holidays passed. You meant it when you said that you could never hate him—because you know you never really could.

He still showed up on your Instagram feed posting photos about his weekend road trips to Malibu or the spontaneous trips to Vegas his new friends looped him into—and you were happy to see him glowing. More times than not, your finger would hover over the like or send button to the comment you always end up deleting and you know it shouldn’t be that way. But reality reminds you that it is.

Your reality reminds you that Iwaizumi Hajime is someone who was witness to your growth and decline and that he was someone you chose to leave in the past.

But at the same time, his passing hellos were never left unheard. Kiyoomi knew, and like always, respected that. You would think this is the part where he should be reacting a little more aggressively, but you knew him to be above petty actions. He was secure, and he let that security be known in the grip of his hand that remained steady against yours when either Hanamaki’s or Issei’s eyes would stare a bit too long. They too, let their hesitations be known when you first introduced Kiyoomi to the both of them.

Issei opened his mouth with what looked to be the beginnings of a retaliation, but Hanamaki cut him off swiftly with a resounding, “We’re happy for you,” that promptly ended the conversation at that.

Then again, it didn’t change the fact that it was after that night where Hajime’s texts to you eventually dwindled to the seasonal greetings.

You tell yourself you don’t mind.

Because you don’t.

Because you’re fine.

Your mother isn’t fine.

Even though she’s been hospitalized for the past four weeks now, the past week has been specifically the most difficult. In and out of consciousness where different tubes were stuck and different needles prodded at her skin every day. It killed you because the second you heard her cry from when she thought you were still asleep rang in your ears over and over again throughout the day that resulted in you missing rehearsals for that entire week.

Kiyoomi drops by after school along with Hanamaki and Issei to check up on the both of you, but eventually leave when visiting hours end.

Kiyoomi usually stays a while longer, though; sitting outside the hospital parking lot and talking over a cup of coffee became a temporary permanent for the both of you during those weeks.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, then scoots closer to you on the bench when you exhale a sigh and lean forward. When your elbows settle into a rest on your thighs, you turn to him, offering a smile. It looked more like a sad quirk of the lip but Kiyoomi must have appreciated it more than he let on because his posture relaxes with you as he exhales.

“It’s weird, Omi,” you begin. “I mean she’s been at the hospital for treatments and checkups before but this is weird.”

Beside you, he stays quiet, and despite the distant noise of traffic in the background your voice sounds a little more amplified than you would have liked. None the less, you continued, “I’ve always known she hasn’t been fine but the past week just happened so fast.”

Puffing out another breath, you watch as it leaves you in a cloud before bringing the rim of the coffee cup to your lips. You don’t take a sip. Coffee was never your favorite anyway.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks you and turns his body completely to face you.

You think about it, then sigh. You don’t; at least, not yet.

“It’s okay, she’s strong,” you tell him and raise your cup as you shoot him another smile.

“So are you,” he offers as a reply, then knocks his cup against yours softly, chuckling when your face grimaces at the taste.

“Why do you always order coffee when you hate it?” he asks as he watches you take another sip.

You laugh, then scoot closer to lean your head on his shoulder. “It’s just practical,” you answer. “It helps me stay up so even if I’d rather get the peach tea, I know that one will knock me out within an hour from all the sugar.”

Kiyoomi laughs at your reply before looping his arm through yours and threading your fingers together.

“You can loosen up time to time, you know,” he tells you and you smile a smile that strains both the muscles on your face and feeling in your chest.

“I wish I could,” you answer.

“Are you happy?” your mother asks you later that night.

The question catches you off guard and you take a seat on her bed next to her. You don’t look at each other and instead look at the wall that’s in front of you, so, tentatively, you reply, “Of course I am.”

And she’s quiet after that so you return her silence and continue to sit next to her.

The clock hanging above the door of her hospital room ticks slowly and for a while you’re comfortable. At this point you aren’t sure whether you wanted time to move faster or slower—because you knew the moments you spend with her are granted through borrowed time.

Time that’s borrowed from the prayers you kneel and voice out every night, the needles and tubes that poke and prod at her skin every day, and from the pills you help count out every time your alarm rings.

She began slipping the minute she told you she was sick—and along the years you knew she let herself slide along the current more carelessly every time she told you she was tired.

You’re looking at her when she touches your hand and you try not to flinch at how cold her skin’s gotten. She’s smiling when you face her and it makes you inhale in a way that hurts because the look on her face practically just tells you she’s tired.

But like the two of you had always done: you stay silent and mirror your smiles instead.

“I’m proud of you,” she says and your heart breaks as you will yourself to not cry. It occurs to you that she isn’t crying when she says it because her voice is resolute as it is soft. You want to ask her why she’s proud of you but you don’t because you realize when this becomes a memory you just want to leave it at that.

You want to leave it as a moment where a mother is telling a child that she’s proud of her.

So instead, you ask her, “Are you coming to see the concert with me and Kiyoomi in a few weeks?” just to make sure. That she’s still there; that she will still be there.

Her silence is your answer before she’s reaching out between the two of you and squeezing your hands instead.

On a Tuesday morning the next week she passes away at 3:08 PM with her eyes closed and face serene. The nurses tell you she opened her eyes to look at the world once more before she closed them and exhaled her last breath.

She was probably looking for you, they mean to say, but you bow your head in thanks when the medical staff offer their heartfelt condolence. You aren’t sure if you wanted to see her close her eyes for her last breath, but at the same time—you wonder if that thought was too selfish on your part.

When you’re in the car in the parking lot of the hospital grounds, you smell her perfume—lilac, so you close your eyes and tell her soul rest easy and I love you.

You text Kiyoomi to meet you in the practice room to go over the score once more after you gave yourself a few more moments to pull yourself together.

He texts you back with an, “are you sure?” so you sigh because he must have already realized what happened. Your fingers hover over the keypad of your phone as you think of an excuse to cancel plans last minute but Kiyoomi’s contact photo on your phone interrupts your thoughts in a call.

Despite your hesitation, your finger press the green to answer the call almost immediately.

“(Y/n?)”

“Hey,” you respond.

“Want me to come get you?” Kiyoomi asks and you notice how much softer his tone is.

“I can still drive, it’s okay—“

“—Are you okay?” he cuts you off and you nod your head frantically. It felt too automatic, and that thought didn’t fly by you, so you sigh.

Kiyoomi notices your silence over the line but he stays and for that you’re grateful. He isn’t really pushing you and you feel a sense of gratitude again because you don’t exactly know what to say either.

Before you could reassure him that you’re in a sense, “okay,” his voice breaks the silence over the line again.

“No one else is here, so I’ll wait for you if you’re coming.”

The smile that breaks on your face is one of relief, or at least you think it is, because your eyes are stinging and you hear yourself sniffle when you tell him a quiet okay, and thank you.

“I love you,” is what you think you hear Kiyoomi say as you cut the call and put the car in reverse.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi present here?” you call out with a slight chuckle as you push open the door and peek in the room.

His head snaps towards you immediately so you offer him a sheepish smile at best when you finally arrive in front of him. Kiyoomi’s eyes are softening in the way that has your heart constricting automatically so you cast your gaze down and immediately fidget with the zipper on your violin case. The steps he takes are heavy and audible in the wooden flooring so your heart hammers even more when you hear him cross the distance between the two of you.

“(Y/n),” he starts and you look up when his hands are on your shoulder. They feel warm, you think, much like the look you see in his eyes when he steadies his gaze towards you.

Kiyoomi joins you in your silence when you choose to remain in it and respond to him by only stitching on another smile. The palm of his hand is still warm on your shoulder but you try to focus on anything but the waves of his sympathy and presence because you know the second you step back in reality, you’ll break—again.

So when his hand squeezes your shoulder and he parts his lips to say the condolence you don’t know when you’re ever going to be ready for, you cut him off.

“Please don’t,” you tell him, and it’s said with a tone that’s clipped tight and with lips pulled into a straight smile—the kind where you can already feel the edges crack with every second that passes.

Kiyoomi sighs and stares at you, but backs down when he feels your body tense.

“I’m right here,” he reassures, as you cast your gaze to the side when you feel the sting in your eyes threaten to overpower you.

“I know,” you reply and with that he turns and takes his seat again.

The two of you are facing each other when you have your fingers on your respective positions and bow hovered over the string. The metronome in the background ticks and you close your eyes desperate to slip out and slip in to focus. The disconnection almost happens automatically because as soon as you hear yourself verbally count to start, your hand with the bow twitches and—

“(Y/n),” Kiyoomi cuts off and your movements automatically halt. The tone of his voice is solid and just like that you feel yourself begin to crumble; still, you try to harden, anyway.

“What’s up?” you say and open your eyes to look at him. The cello you thought was resting between his legs is set down next to his chair and his bow is on the music stand; he looks at you—intention transparent at this point.

“I love you,” he says. “Please talk to me—“he pleads, but you cut him off.

“Omi,” you begin. “I know what you want to tell me and I know you mean well, because you always do. But please—“you pause and look at him with as much intensity as you could muster before continuing, “—let me pretend like today is just a day where we’re practicing for the concert she could have finally gone to.”

Across you, his body leans forward before eventually halting at the sight of you tightening your grip on your bow.

“Just let me pretend this is a normal practice and I’ll be home later with someone still waiting inside the house,” you continue, volume rising but resolve shaking.

“Please,” you finish before tucking the violin back between your chin and shoulder and raising your bow to signal the start. Kiyoomi relents with a sigh and picks up his cello and bow before looking at you.

“Ready?” he asks when his bow is positioned above the string.

“Always am,” you reply and close your eyes as you slip back in focus and feel the bow glide into the first note.

The first note is an A, so you place your fourth finger on the D string and slip into your empty realm with a vibrato.

A memory flashes; you’re in the sixth grade again. It’s September, and you finally make it home with your new violin case in hand. Your mom comes home from work and smiles at you as you point at the strings and name them in the order your orchestra teacher had you memorize earlier.

“This one’s the A string,” you say and you see her smile like she’s proud of you.

The next note makes you climb to the third position, and you could recall that the dynamic changes around this measure, so along with Kiyoomi you’re pressing a little harder.

“We learned the third position today!” you hear your own voice say. It’s your second year playing and you’ve made it to the honors orchestra. Your mom sits in the living room, watching you with a twinkle in her eye that tells you she’s more than proud as you show her the arpeggio practice you learned earlier that day.

The next few notes fly across the fingerboard as the familiar crescendo builds. The depth of Kiyoomi’s strings blends with the octave you’re playing at as you feel yourself being swallowed and wading in your thoughts deeper and deeper until—

You stop.

Because with your eyes still closed, you suddenly see her from the night before. Your mother with the glimmering eyes and fragile hands, wearing the red beanie she said was her favorite ever since her hair fell out. And your eyes are still closed when you hear her tell you that she’s proud of you, her voice bringing you back to that night where you wanted to do nothing more but let your defenses down.

So involuntarily you do; your eyes are still closed when you begin to weep, but you can hear movement from the background before you eventually hear Kiyoomi call, “(Y/n),”

“I’m sorry,” you say and frantically wipe away at the tears and cough out the cries threatening to overflow and spill.

“(Y/n),” Kiyoomi says again and you look up.

His chair is turned so that he sits facing away from you. Your forehead scrunches with the peculiarity.

“Kiyo-“

“Just let it out,” he says then picks up his cello and continues playing from the measure you stopped at.

Then you do.

Like a thread snapping, a cry rips its way out of your throat as you finally, finally allow yourself to feel the heaviness that’s long settled in your chest. Your violin along with your bow set on the floor as you crouch down and press the heels of your palms against your eyes.

It hurts, you realize, when every time you close your eyes you still see her. You still hear her tell you her goodnight stories, affirmations, and reassurances.

It hurts, because you’re tired. Tired of living in the world trying to be the adult you know you aren’t just yet. You’re tired of going home and smiling with her when you could tell the reason why she has tear tracks on her cheeks was because of the call with your father you overheard from the night before.

Because you’re angry, you think. You’re angry at her illness. At your father for leaving and giving the weight of being a parent and provider at the same time. At the fact that neither of you were ever vulnerable enough to even cry in front of each other, and angry at yourself for never having the courage to tell her that it’s okay.

Because all this time you’re been struggling. Struggling to try to always be an adult when you never closed the chapter of your childhood. That you’ve always struggled to push past every affirmation that you’re okay and every single one of those moments were just bouts of false confidence. And it’s exhausting to put up a front to your own reflection.

Even when nothing has really been okay. You’re hurting even more when you realize that so you clutch your chest and cry harder.

This must be the consequence of pride, is the thought that comes to your head. You could build the strongest walls and wrap yourself in the most intricate barriers just to act tough but in time, you will break.

Like now; you’re sobbing into your palms for the years’ worth of pain you let pride push away while Kiyoomi is climbing even higher than the strongest dynamic you know the piece calls for.

You know he wants to let you know that it’s okay, and that you’re safe. His message resonates in pure clarity as he pushes on the strings harder and harder to swallow the sounds of your cries.

His back remains turned as you look at him, still crying, while your thanks bubbles out as incoherent as your cries.

It hurts, because you the only person you’ve cradled in your hands to heavens far higher than the ones you’ve known is gone.

You’re still crying and the pain in your chest is still stinging much like the pain from a reopened wound does, but you let him come to you as he lets you come to him in an embrace.

“Let it out,” he murmurs in your hair as you wrap your hands around his middle and cry into the fabric of his shirt. He’s probably a little uncomfortable at you sniffling right into his shirt, but the way his hands are rubbing circles on your back reassures you otherwise.

“You’re okay,” Kiyoomi says again and you cry harder because you want to believe him.

Five missed calls and seven texts messages all coming from Hajime lays unopened on your phone at 6:17PM.

“She asked me if I was happy,” is what you tell Kiyoomi as the two of you stand side by side peering over her casket some days later.

“Are you?” he asks and you smile at him in a way that tells him that at the moment you’re not.

“Will you be happy?” comes the question after that and you shrug.

The lines on her face are like always, and the mole between her brows look the same. Your mother lays still in the casket, cheeks pink from the blush they put on her and lips red. You think your mother’s friends told the funeral workers to paint them her usual color, so you’re thankful for that. She looks like she’s just asleep—and you don’t know how to feel.

You want to reach out and hold her hand but you know the skin will be stiff and cold; you don’t want to remember her touch like that.

To you, she’s still alive.

She always will be alive.

Kiyoomi’s hand grasps yours in a way that’s as gentle as his presence has always been. When you look up then right to meet his eyes: looking like warmth despite the depth that it has words rolling out of your lips before you could comprehend the situation.

“I will be.”

Kiyoomi smiles and you look back down without bothering to further explain your answer.

You know he always believes you. The sentiment is one you appreciate, but at the same time, you’re not sure if you even believe yourself at the moment. You have to be strong, you think.

And just like that your defenses climb back up.

Takahiro along with Issei make it to the funeral along with Tooru and Hajime skyping in from overseas. It wasn’t as awkward like you expected it to be, and you’re glad.

Tooru’s crying along with Hajime and the rest of you as you watch her return to the opened earth.

You’ve dried your tears by the time you face Tooru and Hajime on the laptop screen, the grief on their faces similar to the one on yours.

“(Y/n),” Hajime starts, and you nod, waiting for him to continue. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m okay,” you respond, gaze focused to the left side of the screen—Tooru’s side.

Even though all you could see was Tooru’s expression on the screen tearing up with yours, you ignore the telltale scrunch of Hajime’s forehead where you know confirms his disbelief over your words.

“I’m coming home next week. Got a job offer there,” Hajime’s voice cuts again and before you could respond Tooru’s voice thrums over the speaker as you feel Kiyoomi’s hand settle on your shoulder.

“You okay?” he asks you when you look up at him. Nodding your head, you shoot him a smile before turning back to the screen, one hand resting on top of Kiyoomi’s.

“This is Kiyoomi,” you introduce and feel yourself unintentionally holding in a breath as you sit and watch for Hajime’s reaction. He’s quiet; eyes steeled over and form rigid. Probably just a trick of the camera, you tell yourself, so you open your mouth hoping to find an excuse and end the call early but Tooru’s voice overlaps yours for the second time that day.

“Ahh! The boyfriend?” He asks and you smile as you see him leaning closer to his laptop’s camera. You had to hand it to him; you know that look. Tooru was someone who could craft a mask and uphold it for as long as he needs and every time it was flawless.

Which was why when Kiyoomi bows his head in a greeting and greets, “It’s nice to meet you,” in the tone he used with your mother, you know he hadn’t caught on to the fact that he was facing a façade.

“Likewise,” Hajime’s voice cuts through and you try to not shiver at the intensity of it.

“Let’s catch up when I get home?” he says again; this time, softer and you nod before you could think of a response.

“Take care,” is the last thing you hear from him before the camera on his side of the screen blinks back to black and Tooru’s face magnified and centered.

“He’s finally coming home, (y/n)-chan,” Tooru smiles and at the sincerity of his voice you smile along with him.

“He finally is.”

Hajime had always been, and always will be your first love. You found yourself choked up the second you see him wave at you from the arrival’s gate and you swore in that moment hugging him felt like coming home.

Which was because of nostalgia, you told yourself. There had been so many firsts and memories shared with him that you know just because you moved forward with your life—that didn’t mean you’d buried what you had with him in the past.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi?” he asks when you’ve settled in the grass next to your mother’s tombstone with him across you.

“Yeah, he actually played for Itachiyama back in high school,” you say.

“Volleyball player turned classical musician?” he asks and you nod with a resonating yup, your hand trailing down to the grass to pick on the blades aimlessly.

“He made it to nationals too,” you comment.

“Are you trying to just rub it in?” he asks and tosses some ripped grass your way. You move to the side and stick your tongue out at him which he laughs at. Hajime’s laugh reminds you of the summer afternoons in your childhood home where you’d chase cicadas and write memories in polaroids and you’re suddenly feeling nostalgic.

“Nah,” you say and smile as you look up at him. He’s facing his right and letting his eyes glaze over the gold paint of your mother’s name on the cement.

“I miss her,” Hajime whispers and you nod, your heart squeezing.

“I do too,” you reply and when he looks at you and meets your eyes, you catch yourself smiling because he has tears threatening to spill over the waterline too. “Every day,” you continue.

“You’re making me cry,” Hajime huffs and leans back facing the front after he wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Your fault for still being soft,” you laugh. Unlike you, he’s always been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve.

“I’m sorry,” Hajime begins after the moments of recollection passes. You look at him and smile, not really sure whether you even have the desire to push through with the conversation or not. “Why are you even sorry?” is what you want to ask him, but you hear yourself say, “it’s okay, Haji,” instead.

“We could have made it,” he says again, his voice cracking as he looks at you.

“Could have,” you repeat and offer him a halfhearted smile at best.

“Do you regret us?” Hajime asks and he seems hesitant with his answer; like he doesn’t want to know your answer. You shake your head no as soon as you meet his eyes and reach your hands out in the space between you.

“Never,” you say and squeeze his hands when he takes yours into his own.

“You’re going to make me cry, again. Shit,” he laughs and this time, you laugh along with him.

The afternoon, despite the September air feels warm. Almost like the summer afternoons back home. So when you close your eyes, you let your defenses down as you imagine sitting in the garden: the one with the yellow and pink flowers, shouting promises in the air with Hajime and Tooru as the three of you let the wonder of childhood guide your idea of reality.

You decide that for just a while longer, you’ll keep those same defenses down as you feel Hajime pull you to stand up with him and face the open field behind the cross of her name.

“Wanna see if we can find cicadas?” he grins and you laugh, replying, “What are we, twelve?” as you follow him and break out into a run anyway.

It was in that afternoon that you realize, Hajime’s always felt like home. His presence always meant that your thoughts jumped back to the days where you watched his hair spike and grow like flowers from a garden blooming and wilting. To the days where talks of the future were shared over a dinner rolls and laughter. To the days where telling someone “I love you,” felt as natural as if you were just talking about the weather.

Hajime reminded you of losing yourself in the kind of love that felt unabashed and boundless. Like running on fields where the sun remained in the golden hour indefinitely. He was the first love you’ve cradled with a heart that was still a stranger to the ways of the reality.

“Are you happy?” he asks you when the sun above breathes the beginnings of a goodbye. You recognize the question your mother asked you before she passed and in that moment you close your eyes and envision yourself in a different year.

“I am,” you whisper back earnestly and your heart flutters with every corner of the wall that crumbles down as you stare back at him.

He looks at you like he wants to ask a question but the thought of Kiyoomi flashes in your mind. Your eyes scan the flecks of emerald in Hajime’s as you close your eyes and feel yourself retreat along with the setting sun. The warmth in your chest remains as you think of Kiyoomi.

Kiyoomi who told you to let it out and let it go. Kiyoomi with the midnight eyes who spoke of the answers to the questions you have yet to discover.

“I have to be happy,” is what you tell Hajime again and the smile he gives you is soft. Like he wants to dive down your thoughts more but instead chooses to remain anchored outside your walls.

But you still lean into his embrace as he pats your shoulder when you tell your mother goodbye.

She must be happy, you think to yourself. Because today was an afternoon spent in the sun like she was alive again.

A text from Kiyoomi to you and one from Issei to his brings you back to the present. You wave goodbye to the photograph of her on the tombstone while Hajime leaves a yellow flower he picked under the sun by her name.

He smiles and you hear him say he’ll walk you home.

Your heart thrums; it’s almost like he never left.

Hajime won’t leave.

Despite your intention for him to not show up to your house being extremely blunt in your text message, he shows up thirty minutes after Kiyoomi’s parked into your driveway.

“Hajime,” he grins, introducing himself with a hand stretched out in greeting as Kiyoomi looks at it in contemplation. You watch the two of them, three feet away and anxious at their first time face to face interaction.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi,” your boyfriend says and reaches out to shake his hand. You could practically feel yourself sigh in relief.

“Haji, you didn’t have to come,” you say and shoot him a tight lipped smile. “Omi and I can handle the boxes, plus there’s not much left to pack up anyway.”

“So,” Hajime begins, turning around and blatantly ignoring what you just said. “Makki says there’s some heavier stuff in the attic? I can help you with that.”

Kiyoomi looks at you as you eventually sigh and nod at him to follow Hajime up into the attic.

For the rest of the day it went on like that. At every hint you dropped in regards to the lack of necessity for Hajime’s presence—he’s suddenly tuning out and changing the topic. It was like he couldn’t hear. You huff when Kiyoomi shoots you a look that hints his amusement towards your predicament.

Hajime’s time in California surely must have rubbed off on him.

“You two shared a lot of memories,” Kiyoomi comments after he sees Hajime point at a trinket and recall a story.

“We grew up together,” you reply and Hajime nods along with you, smiling.

“I knew she was gonna be a real one when she didn’t chicken out from catching cicadas with me,” Hajime laughs across you.

“You used to catch cicadas?” Kiyoomi questions, eyebrow quirking up. You had to fight the urge to smile at the way his two moles scrunched together.

“Used to,” you answer and grip the photo album in your hand before placing it into the box. It was one of your favorites, you remember. You spent your summer nights pasting stickers and writing captions into the photos your mom took of you, Hajime, Tooru and your dog. There were probably a few in there that were with her, but you decide you can put off the nostalgic trip for later as you shut the book and tuck it into a corner of the box.

“Sakusa,” Hajime initiates when the three of you stand back up, stretching then facing each other: Kiyoomi to your left and Hajime across the two of you. “Take care of her will you?”

“I plan to,” Kiyoomi replies beside you and you reach to squeeze his hand as you watch him offer Hajime a sincere smile.

“Can you give us a moment?” you ask Kiyoomi and he’s quick to nod.

“Thanks,” you say and lean into his kiss on your forehead before watching him grab the remaining box and make his way out the door.

Hajime stands in front of you with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“He’s a good guy,” he tells you and you smile gently, head nodding in agreement to his words.

“One of the best,” you reply, smiling.

“You’re happy right?” Hajime says more than asks, but before you could answer, he speaks again.

“I’m here for you, always,” he confesses quietly and you swallow thickly because you could already decipher the meaning behind his words.

“Who’s going to pull your scarf to remind you that it’s cold?” Hajime declares softly and you knit your eyebrows together as you tell him that you can do it yourself.

“I know you can,” he laughs and walks closer to you as he tugs off his own scarf and wraps it around your neck.

“I just like doing it for you.”

“Earlier,” Kiyoomi begins after he’s settled in the couch of your new apartment’s living room. You turn to face him, attention in focus then wait for him to continue.

“When we were upstairs Iwaizumi-san asked where you were moving.”

“Oh yeah? I forgot I didn’t tell him my new address, thanks for remi—“

“He asked again if we were going to be moving in together and I didn’t answer,” he swiftly cuts you off. You stare back at him, confused, then nod your head urging him to continue.

“I didn’t answer him at first because I wanted to see how he’d react.”

“Omi—“

“(Y/n),” he sighs. You blink back, confused.

“He still loves you.”

Kiyoomi says this like he’s just talking about the weather and because of that you’re suddenly aware of fast the room dipped into the newfound silence. Your heart hammers in your chest while you feel your hands curl into a familiar fist; fingernails automatically moving to dig into the flesh of your palms.

“Of course he does, I do too—“you reason, but his expression shifting has you revising your choice of words.

“I will always love him, Omi. Haji was my friend before he became anyone else,” you explain, softly, and reach out to take his hand in yours. He smiles at you and you mirror it, appreciating the way he didn’t pull out of your touch.

“Is that it?” he asks before you look at him, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

“What else is there?” you laugh and shift your focus to his hand on yours.

“Are you really happy?”

“With this?” he questions again and sits up, taking both of your hands in his. Kiyoomi stares with baited breath, so when the silence buzzes in your ear even louder, you nod.

“With us?” Kiyoomi whispers and the echo it delivers rings loud. You hear his question ricochet from the walls to your ears over and over again while you stare straight into the plethora of questions he chooses not to vocalize manifesting themselves in his eyes.

Then, almost slowly, you nod. Because you are happy, though more so thankful. But that’s still happiness, the voice in your head reasons, so you relent and cup his face.

“You’re my blessing, Kiyoomi,” is the truth that’s spoken from your lips as you watch something living unfold in his.

“I love you,” is what he says and you nod, speechless, as he presses his forehead against yours because you feel everything in his words.

“Are you happy?” he asks again when you part and you smile, remembering your mother and Hajime’s words. The sentiment in his question is one of honesty, that in that moment, it suddenly fills you with newfound warmth.

“She asked me the same thing,” you answer, vulnerable. Kiyoomi always had a way that made it okay to feel vulnerable.

“Because I think she knows your answer,” he tells you quietly and what he says makes you think of his words.

“I’ll get there,” is what you planned to answer but before you could get the words out you’re suddenly widening your eyes as you see Kiyoomi shift and bend down on one knee in front of you, a ring in his hand.

Three years later | Italics in flashback

For the first time in your life everything felt connected.

From the pin that held your veil together, to the yellow and pink roses that bloomed along an aisle of white.

Everything felt like it was finally in place as Tooru took one look at you from behind the doors and teared up.

“Please don’t make me cry,” you tell him and smile as you loop your arm through his.

“This is payback for making me cry when you asked if I could give you away,” he laughed before dabbing at the corners of his eyes.

“Thank you, Tooru,” you whisper as he gives you one final look. The browns of his eyes reminded you that you are loved.

“Your mom would be so happy now,” is his reply as the doors open.

She would be happy, you think as you take one, two, then four steps forward as you grip your bouquet tighter. The pendant with her photo is surrounded in gold plating, and you find yourself thinking that nothing suited her better than gold.

To and for you, she had always been golden.

You feel Tooru part with you midway as he lets you walk the final stretch alone. It was supposed to be the other way around, Issei commented before, but Takahiro was quick to side with you and say it was fitting. Even if Tooru stood in your parent’s place to symbolize giving you away, a parent’s job is really just to walk with you to the halfway mark in life and let you walk the rest of the way alone.

You find yourself smiling at the memory.

The engagement ring on your left finger catches the light from the photographer’s flash as the first notes of a cello play.

“I would ask you to marry me but I know you’re going to tell me no,” Kiyoomi tells you.

“I don’t know you, yet, (y/n). But I know you just enough to know there’s some things you are choosing to not let go of.”

You watch him stare at you, eyes soft and understanding you’re suddenly overcome with the urge to cry again.

From the aisle, your eyes catch Kiyoomi’s as he stares back at you, beautiful and iridescent in the light. He’s always looked the most beautiful when he felt connected with music, you think. Much like now, as he presses harder on the strings and close his eyes to slip into the element.

“It’s okay,” Kiyoomi soothes, and reaches forward to wipe the tear sliding down your cheek.

“I don’t think I got to know you, just yet. I only saw bits of who you were under that exterior and neither of us know if we could work as well then if we lay ourselves bare now,” he continues and you nod, understanding his point.

“I love how resilient you are, (y/n),” Kiyoomi whispers and you smile because his voice isn’t cracking. He’s okay with this, and somehow, that lifts the heaviness in your chest. “I love how you never break despite the situation, but I’ve only known that side of you so far.”

“You deserve someone who’s seen you from the start. I can stay and we can work this out, but I don’t know if I’ll love you then. Iwaizumi loved you then and now, and I think you still do too. I could never take you away from that.”

“I don’t want to ask you who you are yet,” he says and you nod telling him you’re still getting to know yourself too.

“She’ll be proud of you regardless,” Kiyoomi finishes and with that you sob.

Kiyoomi opens his eyes and looks at you with a smile while he continues to play. Thank you, you mouth telling him, and he smiles as he plays harder.

“For what it’s worth,” you begin. “I know,” Kiyoomi finishes and the smile on his face is as sincere as his words. “Our time will always be a part in history that will be ours.”

You inhale, smile, and then cup his face in your hands. “It will always be priceless,” you add.

This was a piece you recognized from years ago, you recall with a smile. If you had your violin with you, it wouldn’t take much for you to remember the score and slip into a duet with him. The dynamics, you recognized too—and the way Kiyoomi’s playing only tells you he’s playing even louder.

Three years ago he played the same piece you would have played for the concert your mom would have finally made it to. The same day she died you sat in a practice room with Kiyoomi, crying your heart out as the he plays the same melody you’re walking to now.

Let it out, is what he told you and you did just that.

Let it go, is what he also wants you to know and you did that too.

All your life you’ve thought of love and thought it was lost when you lost her. Kiyoomi, you realize, is the love you were just beginning to learn. The love you’ve parted with before you tangled yourself in too deep; and perhaps in another lifetime you could chase each other bare bones and all, but in this life you know Hajime is the love you thought you closed the door to despite leaving it ajar.

One last look at Kiyoomi lets you see that he closes his eyes as you turn away and face forward.

And when you do, you see colors.

Green from his eyes, like the leaves on your bouquet and the grass outside your childhood home. A yellow flower pinned on his breast pocket; the color from the petals of a flower your mother loved to grow the most. Pink; like the color his cheeks turned into when you first shook his hand.

Then when he smiles at you—you feel a sense of home. When you see him begin to cry, you feel a sense of love that washes over you like the soft waves of the shallow end.

Steady, constant, and safe.

Love, like the words your mother wrote to you in a letter you discovered in an old journal. Where she wrote that even if she never had your father to love, she found her love in you. To be cradled in you so that was enough for her.

That she knew she was strong, but even more so because her strength was drawn from being with you.

Love, like the words from a friend as you remember Kiyoomi’s reminder that it’s okay to take that hand that just wants to pull you out of the deep end.

Love, like the awakening from the depth and seeing that Hajime is the hand that’s been there all along and you have yet to take.

Love, you remember like your mother’s voice.

Love, like the one that has been with you since the beginning. Because you were loved from the very start.

And Hajime—whose name spoke of beginnings.

for my mother whose love cradled me from the beginning. may you rest where the flowers bloom the most beautiful. i love you.

1K notes · View notes

shozaii · 4 years

Note

can u pls gib me kunikida and dazai fluff hcs? i love them sm

(a/n):hello anon! why, of course hehe🥰thank you so much for the request!

@amourzai my cielo helped me with this fic ilysm☁🌹

masterlist

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fluffy hc’s

pairings: dazai x reader, kunikida x reader

warnings: none!

dazai osamu

despite being the chaotic person that he is, dazai tends to turn into the mushy soft puddle when he’s with you. swoons around you, always shows you his best side, brags about him being better than chuuya, basically what you see him do to atsushi, but it’s ten times more emphasized and complex.😌

when he wants to confess his feelings, he does it in a quiet, peaceful place. namely, while watching the yokohama sunset. may or may not have found time to walk back home alone with you, held your hand and locked his arm around yours. “i need to show you something special, love~.”

feelings to him is something so cherished, so sophisticated and important. as a person who has gone through a series of emotions; he prefers to let them out in private.

even kneels down and asks, “would you be mine, mon cheri?” while rubbing little circles on the back of your hand.

when dazai confesses, his eyes would look directly into yours. if anything were to bother him; consider his other side to be seen. and we all know we don’t want that to happen.

i don’t know why but i always imagine dazai’s hands to be soft and delicate, and lovely to hold. (yes, i have seen too many gifs of them and i am in love) anything he does with his hands are just so attractive.

blows kisses when he’s like across you. so it becomes a series of sending each other kisses when you’re like one metre apart....and when he really does miss it, he gets up from his seat, leans over and pecks your lips real quick.

height difference is pretty obvious between him and his s/o(unless you’re super tall :0). if you were shorter, consider the t e a s i n g 24/7. if you were nearly as tall/taller than him, the floor is all yours🥴

lowkey wish i was taller rn

okay but real talk - he loves carrying you bridal style. a lot. and here’s the thing, it happens at random timing. for instance, when you’re working on your latest paperwork. during a mission (just to boast how strong he is). very unpredictable but so adorable, you can’t help but blush harder.

“osamu! put me down or else....!”

“or else what, my honey bunch?”

“you’re not getting kisses for a week.”

mans sets you down with raptor speed. unless if he’s in a flirty mood, you would see yourself winning.

yes, he loves seeing you flustered. i feel like you can do so as well - but i headcanon him winning everytime. how do you win this...? maybe kiss him when he least expects it. do it.

cute pet names like belladonna, my love, mon cheri, any new language he learns, he uses them. and if he almost forgets them(because he collects so much), he writes them down on a sticky note, and sticks it on his desk. when he goes back to the dorms, he sticks it on the wall or some place he could remember.

dates with dazai are either during work hours, or the after hours of yokohama. and he makes sure you’re going to have the time of your life on every single date; so he plans a new activity on every one of them.

when he doesn’t have the chance to do so, he pouts. but when it has been replaced with a job given by the president/kunikida, there you go. a date and mission in your hands.

he gets this rush of energy when he realizes that what was supposed to be a relaxing date out just got a whole lot better with the mission.

dazai gives kisses anywhere he likes. nose, lips, cheeks, jawline, the list goes on. he even knows where you prefer him to do so. i’m surprised that he still isn’t a psychic.

double suicide? he would never think of it. all his life, he wants to find a reason to live. he does get his reasons - one of them is you. your tears to him are anguish and heartbreak at its worst. cue you crying while telling him to stay by your side.

“please...never leave my side,” you sobbed as you buried your face in his chest. “if i can stay alive in this place we call earth for as long as possible, then so can you.”

that moved him so much. a whole lot. “oh, belladonna. don’t you ever think i’m going away.”

silence.

“not without you.”

you punched him, and he couldn’t stop laughing. but he’d stop, giving you an unlimited amount of kisses.

b a b y. dazai is babie.

kunikida doppo

oh my god we have baby number 2.

in his eyes, you were the definition of perfection. he even tries to remember exactly when did he catch feelings for you. it was totally unexpected, according to him.

cue almost all of the members of ada teasing him all the time about him finally finding his ‘ideal’ partner.

but to him, it wasn’t the ideal that mattered anymore. you outmatched almost everything he wrote down. and man, was he the happiest person alive.

how does he confess...? well wonderful question. he didn’t plan it. the members did.

maybe yosano-san called you and told you about another ‘crucial case’ a few blocks away from your completed one and ‘since you were out there, you were perfect for it.’ you agreed because why not?

meanwhile, dazai probably said, ‘this case involves yet another series of men wearing glasses - you and me must go out to end this person.’

of course kunikida goes ??? ‘where are the evidences/pictures???” but dazai brushes it off saying ‘ah~ i left them somewhere.’ to which,,,well you already know. they went out and not even a minute after, the bandaged man goes missing. with the intercom, he leads him to - you guessed it - the exact same place you were in.

‘kunikida! you’re here for the non-existent case too...?”

‘non-existent? OHMYGODDAZAI-’

the line was cut off, and he goes on and on about him, until;

‘i can never be the same when i’m with someone i obliviously like-,’

he’s a huge mess when he’s around you, trust me. so him blabbering that out loud is completely normal.

butterflies in your stomach because you’re so in love with him.

‘i don’t know if this is the right time, but our friends probably did this for us. so i hope you’d be okay if i said my feelings are mutual?”

kunikida is alright with just a little pda, maybe some hand-holding and little ruffles on your hair because he secretly loves how floofy it is🥺when it comes to kissing, the furthest he would go is on your head. nothing more, nothing less.

he needs to maintain his composure *cough* but my mans right here couldn’t, you’re just too perfect.

so when you’re two alone, expect lots and lots of wholesome kisses around your face; and also loads of cuddles. this side of kunikida is what i headcanon today, folks. the ‘soft for you’ side. he lovesss it when he kisses your forehead, he finds it so cute.

p l e a s e kiss him on the cheek, kunikida would be all over the place.

if you go somewhere on a mission with someone else, he would be on his feet. he gets so worried, thinking of what might happen. don’t get me wrong, he trusts you in your job so much; he just doesn’t want you to get hurt.

so when you do return, he’s the first one at the door.

checks if you’ve eaten, if you’ve drank enough water, if you’ve gotten enough sleep. if you’ve not he’s just going to pull you to bed, holding you tight and lulling you to sleep.

during work hours, you walk over to him, wrapping your arms.

‘y/n....we only do this after work.’

‘so you don’t want my hugs then?’

stays silent and just lets you stay there for as long as you want. he will tolerate you and you only.

kunikida loves you a lot. sometimes he might not show it, but just know that the love he has for you is drastic it tears you up.

--------------------------------------------------

(a/n): i am s o r r y this took so long! ahh i’ve had so much to do and i really do hope this was worth it!

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alittlextrathatway · 3 years

Text

So, I’ve changed tactics on a multichap I started and because of that, this intro to the first chapter is now defunct. Instead of letting it get dusty in my google docs I thought I would share the non-spoilery bits. Enjoy!

******

Severide knows why he’s up early. He has to be.

A day of fishing that starts late is a waste of time.

Boden can’t come to the bachelor party mostly as a result of the extremely thin professional and personal boundary he tries to maintain between himself and 51. Instead he offered to take the day off and go fishing with Kelly on his boat.

It’s a compromise Kelly can definitely live with.

What he didn’t expect when he woke up that morning was to find Sylvie Brett leaning against his kitchen island with a cup of coffee in her hands.

He stops and blinks tiredly at her. “What time is it?” He asks her.

“Five, why?” She says through a yawn.

“Just making sure I hadn’t missed my alarm. Last time you slept over no one saw you before lunchtime — and by you I mean you and Matt.”

She blushes but grins without shame. “I have somewhere to be today and Matt has shift so an early start it is.”

He walks around the island and gently hip checks her, playfully making room for himself in front of the coffee maker. “You’re off today too?”

She nods and bounces on her feet as a beaming smile spreads over her lips. In these moments, he remembers Sylvie when she was green and earnest, getting to know everyone at 51 for the very first time. She hasn’t changed too much, thank god. Not in any detrimental way at least. He’s watched from the sidelines for years as she became better and stronger — a leader the CFD could be proud of. He was in her orbit a lot in those early days but as life became busier that fell away and now that she’s dating Matt he finds himself growing close to her again.

He regrets ever letting them drift apart. He’s ashamed to say that he forgot how much fun she could be.

“I’m babysitting Amelia today,” she tells him. “Scott has a last minute all day work thing and his nanny is out of town so it’s Big Sister Sylvie to the rescue.”

“As opposed to every day Sylvie who never saves lives,” he teases dryly.

She rolls her eyes with a chuckle. “Right. Anyway, I still have to go back to my place and pack before I can hit the road.”

“Casey isn’t insisting on driving you?” Severide asks her with a knowing smirk. Every time Brett makes the trip out to Rockford, Matt makes sure to go with her. Casey would never admit it outloud, but Sylvie’s little sister has him wrapped around her tiny little finger. So does Sylvie Brett, but that’s beside the point at the moment.

She laughs lightly and shakes her head. “He tried, but I told him the house couldn’t afford to be missing both the PIC and the Captain at the last minute. Not with Boden no longer at 51 anyway. That seemed to convince him.”

“It would,” Kelly replies, laughing with her. “We’re all suckers for 51 and any of the people in it.”

There’s a shuffling sound from the other end of the room and they both look up just in time to see Matt walk into the living room.

“Are you leaving already?” He asks Sylvie as he joins them in the kitchen.

She nods and hands him her half finished coffee. “I need to be at Scott’s early so he can leave for work and I still have to pack.” Her arms go around his neck, she leans into his chest, and places a lingering kiss on his lips. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to leave without a proper goodbye. I promise.”

Matt’s arm circles her waist and pulls her flush against him, with their shared coffee in his free hand. “I’d hope not. We’d have to have a serious talk if you did.”

“You two are gross,” Severide declares with a teasing grimace. “Too new, too cute. Take it back to your room, Case.”

“You’re one to talk,” Matt fires back with a wide grin. “You and Kidd are equally disgusting.” He takes a sip of the coffee and then winces, turning to Sylvie with a mock accusatory glare. “How much sugar did you put in this?”

“Less than I normally do,” she replies, poking his side playfully. “Do you have something to say about it?”

Casey yelps and squirms away from her with a laugh. “No, babe. Not a single complaint. I’m fine with drinking mostly sugar and cream.”

Sylvie chuckles and pokes him again. “God, you’re a jerk.”

As much as Kelly teases them, he doesn’t actually find them disgusting. If he’s truthful, he’s ecstatic for Casey. And for Brett too. They’re two of the best people he knows and they’ve both had a lot of bad luck over the last few years. He’s relieved to see them happy and joyful. Casey may think he and Stella have a unique connection, but Casey and Brett have one too. One grown from friendship and mutual respect. It’s a stronger foundation than Severide had with Kidd when they started. He has a feeling his best friend has finally found his forever person and he anticipates things will move faster than either of them are willing to admit right now.

When Matt commits, he commits. It won’t take them long to take the next step. Whatever that looks like for them.

Sylvie takes her coffee back for another gulping sip and then sets it on the counter. “I should head out.”

Matt leans down to kiss her quickly and casually. “Be careful. Call me before you actually get on the road, yeah?”

“Of course,” she assures him as she runs a soft caress over his cheek. “I’ll call you when I leave for Rockford and when I get to Scott’s. I promise.” She grabs her duffle from where it sits by the door and slings the strap over her shoulder. “Have fun on your day off, Severide!”

“And you enjoy that little sister of yours!”

“You know I will!”

Matt walks her out of the loft with one hand on the small of her back and a besotted grin on his face. Severide chuckles softly and shakes his head.

As long as he’s known Matt, he’s never seen him so gone on anyone. He’s glad Casey and Brett worked it out. They deserve someone who reciprocates their feelings unconditionally.

******

Since Kelly and Sylvie are off, Matt offers to drive Stella to work in his truck. Carpooling saves her gas and mileage so she quickly agrees.

Severide is already gone by the time she wakes up. Fishing with Boden is serious business. She knows better than to keep him from it or delay him from leaving precisely when he means to.

On the way to the Firehouse, Matt’s phone rings from the phone mount on his dash. At the sight of Sylvie’s name he eagerly hits speaker.

“Hey,” he greets.

Stella grins at his chipper tone. It took them a while but she’s grateful her two best friends got their act together finally.

“Hey!”

“Stella’s with me. We’re on our way to work.”

“Oh! Hey, Stella!”

“Hey, Brett! How’s it going?”

“Good! Just stopping for a sugary treat before I hit the road.”

“Bear claw from The Doughnut Vault?” Matt asks knowingly.

“Of course! What else?”

He rolls his eyes with fond frustration. “That’s hardly breakfast.”

“I’ll make sure to eat some real food once I’m at Scott’s,” she promises. “I’m about to head that way now. Should be there in a couple of hours at most.”

“Good,” Matt agrees. “And don’t get so caught up in Mia that you forget to call me when you get there, okay?”

She laughs and the sound is bright. Brighter than anyone’s laugh should be before 8 in the morning, Stella thinks.

“I’ll do my absolute best not to forget. Believe me. I need to get on the road though so I should get off of here.”

“Okay, drive safe. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Bye, Brett! Give that baby a good squeeze for me!” Stella chimes in.

“I will! Have a safe shift, both of you.”

“I’ll try and keep the Captain in line but I make no promises. You know how he is.”

Sylvie laughs again but Stella can hear the genuine nerves underneath it. “I do know. Just make sure he stays in one piece.”

“Now that I think I can do.”

“Okay, okay, enough picking on me. Are you two done?” Matt asks with a dry laugh.

“For now,” Sylvie replies. “Call you when I get there. And then I’ll brag about how I’m getting all the baby cuddles and you’re not getting any of them.”

“Damn, Brett,” Stella says with a chuckle. “That’s cold!”

“I try to tell people how mean she is but no one will believe me,” Matt says, shaking his head and grinning playfully. “Take lots of pictures.”

“That’s a given. Talk to you later. I promise.”

“I’m holding you to that. If you don’t I’ll come looking for you. Don’t think I won’t,” Matt threatens, half seriously.

“Oh, I have no doubt you would. If only for the chance to be a baby hog. See you later!”

“Later,” Matt says just before she disconnects the call.

“You two sound sickeningly happy,” Stella observes, grinning widely.

“That’s what Severide said,” Matt replies with a chuckle. “And, you know what, I think we are. Sylvie is…well, she’s the best thing to happen to me in a very long time. So, if that means I’m disgustingly infatuated with her for the rest of my life then I’m okay with that.”

“It may be disgusting,” Stella concedes. “But it’s a good look for you. For her too. You both deserve someone who gives as much as you do. And there’s no one who gives more than you and Brett.”

Matt glances over at her as he parks his truck with a grateful expression. “Thank you, Kidd. I appreciate that.”

“Hey, I just call it like I see it.”

#brettsey #chicago fire #sylveride #kiddsey #brett x casey #my fic #angellwings writes #deleted scenes

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rinharu-purple · 3 years

Note

Emmm 👉👈 can i request Gavin's spring festival date analysis?! Ehem especially when Gavin said "I've waited a long time for today.." 💙

But Of course if you're not busy.. I'll wait patiently.. I just.. love read your analysis 💙 like i can feel your love and dedication for Gavin.. a lot of Gavin stan is very smart and loyal.. just like Gavin itself

Hello nonny and of course you can! Thank you for your lovely ask and reading my posts. It makes me really happy to hear this 💞 I can also double up what you've said, Our birdcop is smart and loyal and I really love being a part of Gavin-standom which includes so many talented writers, artists, analysts and it has @cheri-translates! There are so many great posts from various accounts and one can feel the love, passion and loyalty towards Gavin in all of them! 💫

An analysis on Spring Festival date is so overdue, so it is me who should apologize for not having written this before. I will more than gladly include your request scene, I hope you enjoy it ^_^

MC Testing Waters: Spring Festival Date

At the beginning of the game, MC is a young woman with lots of love in her heart, however without much experience in love. Fortunately this starts to change when she meets LIs as adults.

Spring Festival Date takes place after Firework Date and before the Romantic Date, although the timeline is quite messy, which I will come to by the end of this analysis.

If you look closely, you can see MC checking Gavin's romantic feelings towards her by using this "boyfriend game" and also uses the opportunity to get beyond his hardened exterior and touch his vulnerable side 💗

Spoilers start below this line

This date comes to, because MC lies to her aunt about having a boyfriend to avoid arranged blind dates and even promises to visit her on New Years with her boyfriend. Speculatively it seemed like a solid play, until...the time literally came.

Thinktanking about a way out of this with Kiki and Willow, they weight different options as to tell them she broke up with him, leave the city or call in sick but then the best wingman on earth Minor saves the way and suggests that she just takes a "fake boyfriend" with her, surely enough with Gavin in his mind.

MC goes through her contacts list to search for a suitable candidate, but her heart Whispers her the answer by skipping a beat as her fingertips scroll down to one name.

... Gavin

As such... MC has chosen her player for the game and Gavin's Heart Trial with MC's family commences...

---Press Start---

Creativity Test

Unluckily Gavin actually shows up for this highly important date late, with his phone off! From the storyline he arrives a couple of minutes late to MC’s aunt's place, thus starting the game one point behind. He was late because he was buying presents for the whole family! With the spot on gifts which are well received by the family because they're expensive, imported goods, limited products, cute and thoughtful he makes up for the lost points.

But it's just the first stage and he has 3 more stages to clear, the pressure is slowly rising.

This gray suit has a lovely story behind it, which you can find by the end of the story.

Decision Test

Gavin has passed the creativity test with flying colors, but in the second stage more challenging questions are on the menu. The eldest aunt wants to know Gavin's age, occupation, salary(?!) and possessions(?!). The last two questions are fairly over the line and is a no-no in my country. Asking people about their financial status as well as bragging about it is perceived as rude and insolent, that's why the way Gavin answers these questions skillfully without bragging about his wealth adds just another brick on my Gavin-temple.

Age: 24

Occupation: Police Officer

Salary: Covers the bills

Possessions: A flat in the city and a motorcycle.

In my Prank date analysis, I've mentioned about Gavin's ability to deal with impertinence and also here, he stays friendly, but only answers the questions necessary to get through with the situation. MCs family is checking whether he's wealthy enough to take care of MC (which is sad that in the 21st century that in some countries women need to be financially secured by men). So Gavin just gives them just the right enough of information to pass the test and pass he does.

There is another aspect to his way of answering though. You see, Gavin is an unmaterialistic man. He doesn't care about money or any other meta. He doesn't touch upon the fact that he's coming from a wealthy family, or that he inherits his grandparents house or that he can afford designer dresses, overseas travels or gems without giving a second thought. That shows just how humble Gavin is and I love him for it. What defines him is not his wealth, nor does he allow anyone define him on his financial status. It's his character, the values he stand for, the vision he embodies, the way he treats MC.. Ehm.. And.. His champion body and drop dead gorgeous looks (comes as an extra;))

But the game is far from over, because the family council is now going to challenge him on...

Affinity Test

This is where things get rosy as the family would like to know how they've met and whether they've been together since high school.

Look, Gavin is actually not playing a game, but living the moment. He is well aware of the fact that once he and MC become an official pair, he will be standing on the same spot a year later. He is serious...

So when they ask about their affection, he gives them his genuine answer and confesses his crush on her during high school and says that they've been going out since fall. This dazzles MC, as if she hasn't been dazzled enough lol.

The three glasses of drink he gulps surely has a role in this sincerity and taking three glasses of a drink as a punishment also becomes a tradition for MC and Gavin in the future.

And so, he proudly passes the Affinity Test with flying colors, effortlessly. Only one more stage and he's done it!

Execution Test

Every hero has his moment, when the fight takes a gloomier turn against his favor and the odds don't look good as before when he gets a strong blow, that is when the family hits him with the question "Don't you get alone well with your family?".

This is Gavin's weak spot, his cryptonite, his bleeding wound and MC's family just pressed on it. What makes this scene so heartbreaking is not just the topic itself and we know why it is a sensitive topic for Gavin but also that Gavin actually tries to signal them that this is not his favorite topic. He tells them he doesn't go home for holidays (friendly warning number 1), the aunties pushes by telling him to take some meal with him to which he replies "Thanks, but that's okay. I've been away for a long time" (friendly warning number 2) the family pushes further and as a one last resort he tells them that during college he rarely went there and spent holidays working afterwards (friendly warning number 3). Sadly the auntie than ignorantly ask whether his family doesn't worry about him and now because he's given three fair warning shots which, he downright gives them a brief and resolute answer:

- No.

That's usually the latest where people with common sense stop digging in further. Unfortunately then the auntie asks whether he doesn't get along well with his family to which Gavin no longer responds. This is the perfect way of dealing with such people and Gavin has a very intuitive talent for dealing different people from different mindsets. Give them three friendly and fair warnings, still pushing? Then give them a last chance by one final brief and to the point answer, they choose to ignore the signal? Stop interacting, you can only waste time beyond this point.

The only problem with this situation here, is that these people are not just somebody, Gavin wants to win these people over, so he cannot just ignore them. But also he cannot do it without a timeout, so he goes to grab some wine. (God it makes me so sorry everytime he has to face his family drama or is misjudged. I just wanna hug him bring him hot cocoa, give him a backrub and bring spicy food for him. Luckily he has MC ^_^)

But let's not talk only about about Gavin, because MC is struggling too. And we should recognize her stick up for him with the most cherishing words:

-Auntie, you got it wrong. He is a decent and pure man and has come to my aid many time and in quite dangerous circumstances.

When she comes back however cannot find Gavin, once she does, a heartwarming moment blooms between them.

This scene is very crucial in Gavin and MC's relationship because this is the first time MC sees Gavin tired and flustered. She feels sad for him but also happy for herself, for she feels as though she gets closer to him, thus seeing the real Gavin. By the way she show him her genuine care, Gavins heart melts and kisses the back of her hand as a gesture and so the first intimate moment involving them having a kiss ensues. Furthermore, they show each other their mutual care, which brings them one step closer and this gives Gavin the only courage he needs to tackle the situation.

When our hero gets the courage and the stamina he need from his girl, nothing can stop him now. Having gatherer his strength, Gavin returns to the dinner table:

“I am so happy to be here with you all today. In fact, I haven't felt this atmosphere of family in a long time. I have a very strict father and a brother I seldom see...I don’t even know when I turned into such a loner. Eating alone, sleeping alone, doing everything alone...until I met her. It was a beautiful autumn day. The gingko leaves were floating in the wind. I was also going through a pretty dark time. But she saved me before I hit bottom...It’s she who told me I could live a stronger life. And it’s also she who told me I could live a more tender life. I never felt lonely before, until I met her. I started to get used to star-gazing with her, having dinner with her, spending the New Year’s with her. In the future, I'll give it my all to stay with her, to take good care of her and love her. I wanna make up many times over for all the times I wasn't there”

MC’s heart stopped, aunties eyes teary, the elder Aunt want his actions to back up these words and thus Gavin has a pass from MC's family. Now that he's won the game, it's time to collect his prize.

After they leave MC's aunt's house, our lovebirds walk together in the night full of fireworks and Gavin tells Mc that Minor has mentored him on being the perfect son-in-law, hence he was late. He also asks her what she would do if he didn't show up, to which she says that her intuition says that he won't fail her and he murmurs quietly:

- I've waited a long time for today.

Of course he doesn't repeats himself when MC asks him about what he just said. But that's what kept him going all night long.

He has waited for six whole years to meet her again, to stand by here, take good care of her and love her. Tonight, he could do them all by being her "boyfriend", giving his word to her family and having their blessings. He could see that she also cares a lot for him, worries about him and wants to be there for him. He landed his lips for the first time on her delicate skin and could give her warmth.

He could finally confess his feelings for her and say the genuine things he will only say to her.

So yes, he has waited for a long time for this moment to come and when it came, he made sure to grab it tightly.

----—----—---

Timeline issues:

- The order of the dates in the game doesn't always reflect the real course of events. The grey suit that Gavin wears is actually bought after Romantic Date, which takes place after this date.

-Even though MC plans this whole game to avert blind dates, but she still gets set up later on a blind date by another aunt lol.

Thank you once again for your patience nonny and I hope that the analysis proves to be worthy of your wait 💗

Masterlist

For MC's confession let me take you here

For Gavin and MCs relationship milestones here

For a fun trivia about this date you can click here

#Meeting the family is important #Gavin preparing for being the perfect son in law #And getting help from Minor #Anon asks #mlqc #mlqc gavin #mlqc bai qi #mlqc haku #mlqc baek gi #mr love queen's choice #koi to producer #Meta #Analysis #Saturday night #Saturday

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lag1995-fics · 3 years

Note

Hey can I request a fanfic for Evan's character kit walker and song a turning page from twilight?

I hope you like it thank you for requesting. ❤️

Turning Page

Song:Turning Page by Sleeping at Last

Pairing: Kit Walker X Reader

Warnings: some cussing

Words: 2010

Summary:Kit’s highschool sweetheart waits for him

Song Fic Masterlist

////::::////

You and Kit Walker had been high school sweethearts, he was your first love; and if you were being honest he was your only love. You guys had mutually broken things off after highschool when you had gotten into an out of state college.

When you came back the first time after getting your degree, you found out that Kit had moved on and married a woman called Alma. You weren’t jealous, a little disappointed maybe, but you were genuinely happy for them. Kit was a good man and you had always known he would make a good husband. You couldn’t put yourself through watching them though, you had never given up on your relationship with Kit. He had ruined you for other men. You had other boyfriends during school but the longest relationship had only lasted a month.

You decided to move back to Boston leaving your small town life behind. You loved a relatively happy life in the city, distracting yourself from the life you wished you had. You had gotten a degree in education, so you threw yourself into teaching children.

You had been happy to hear that they had apparently apprehended the serial killer, who went by the bloody face moniker. Well you had until they said it was Kit Walker, you reasoned with yourself that it had to be someone else named Kit Walker. Your Kit would never be able to do something as heinous as what they claimed Bloodyface did. Your Kit was a gentle soul, who would do his best to bring happiness and peace to anyone he might meet.

When you saw his face flash on the evening news that night you had broken down and sobbed. Kit was being framed for a murder he hadn’t committed. He wouldn’t even kill a spider much less the woman he married. You had started making calls trying to get on as a character witness. That whole town was racist and this stunk of a town coverup.

They wouldn’t let you be his witness though, they claimed you hadn’t spoken to him for over six years. You had screamed and cried even harder when they rejected you. You had never stopped loving Kit even if it had to be one sided from afar. You wrote him letters trying to convey to him that people still believed in him. That you would always love and believe him.

He never wrote you back. The guards at the prison who checked his mail had scoffed thinking of you as some loon and had trashed them. When he was committed to Briarcliff Asylum they too disposed of the many letters.

When you hear of Kit’s death you fall into a dark depression. You’re barely hanging on, when you happen to skim a blip in a newspaper. You almost choke when you see his face. He’s a bit older, but it is unmistakably Kit Walker. The article however was not a happy one: the man’s wife Alma had murdered a woman that lived with them in a fit of apparent hysteria.

Without preamble you packed a suitcase and began the trip back home. Kit would need you, not as a lover, that ship had sailed but he would need you as a friend. He was almost entirely alone now and with two toddlers to boot. You couldn’t help but feel the joythat he was alive even though it was steeped in sadness at his tragic loss.

Alma had been a sweet girl from what she could tell. She had never met her in person but if Kit married her it was apparent that she was a good person. She had been missing for so long though, she had been traumatized and snapped. It wasn’t her fault that bad things had happened and lord knows that the country's mental health system left a lot to be desired.

It had taken you almost all day to find the farmhouse that Kit lived in. It was dusk and the sun was starting to set. You took a steadying breath hoping that you weren’t overstepping any boundaries. You had flown out of the house with barely any thought, relying mostly on instinct. You hadn’t been able to help Kit when he was accused of being Bloodyface but you could certainly help now without the government involved.

You eased yourself out of the old Buick you were driving and shut the door. You began to make your way to the door but it opened before you got the chance to knock. There he was, he was still handsome as ever, but he had lost that carefree air he had when they were young. You supposed you had probably lost that too.

“I already told you I’m not doing an interview, leave my family in peace!” His voice was angry and you were now unsure if you had made the right decision. Then as if he hadn’t really been looking at you before, his eyes widened.

“Y/n?” He asked questioningly the anger had drained from his voice.

“Oh Kit I heard what happened I needed to make sure you were okay,” you explained trying not to cringe. You probably seemed like a crazy person showing up at your highschool sweetheart’s home after his wife had murdered someone.

“I thought you lived in Boston?” He questioned, still surprised at your arrival.

“I do, I hopped in my car as soon as I heard, I thought you might need some help. If I’m imposing I apologize… I can leave,” you were rambling, it was something you were prone to when nervous.

“No! Uh I mean no, you could never be an imposition doll. Come inside, I didn’t think anyone cared about me anymore,” he lamented, meeting her halfway on her way to the house. You got a better look at him up close. He still had beautiful brown eyes but there were dark bruise like bags underneath them. You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping well, and really who would after something like this happened.

You followed Kit inside his home, it still smelt of the bleach they used to get up the blood, but it was warm and cozy. You looked over and could see the two toddlers playing together on a rug with some blocks.

“This is Julia and Thomas,” he said, gesturing to the kids who barely spared them a glance.

“They’re precious,” you commented.

“Yeah they are pretty great, must take after their old man,” he bragged teasingly but it was half hearted.

“Kit,Are you okay?” You asked, laying a hand on.

“I will be,” there was a determination in his voice this time looking at the children playing happily unaware.

“If you need anything at all just tell me” you begged, hoping he would take the help. This trip wasn’t entirely unselfish, you had missed Kit the moment you left for college and the feeling had never left. It hadn’t faded with time like these things are meant to do, you had never stopped loving Kit and you would wait a thousand years if that’s what it took. You didn’t expect any romance, you knew that ship had sailed, but you would be there for your dearest and oldest friend.

“Don’t you have a life or a lover in Boston, surely you don’t want to spend time with someone as pathetic as me.” His self deprecating comment made you jerk him by the arm so he was facing you.

“You listen to me Kit Walker, you are one of the most gentle humans I’ve ever met. You are an incredibly good man and you deserve all the love and help in the world. Let someone help you, you don’t have to go through this alone,” You declared, staring directly into his brown eyes with your own y/e/c ones.

He only nodded before taking you into a friendly hug holding you close to his chest, his head buried into your shoulder. You felt a shuddering sob wrack through him. You only held him, you didn’t know how much time had passed as you held him close letting him sob. When he finally pulled away you could see the gratitude in his eyes.

****

Days bled into weeks and weeks bled into months as you stayed with Kit. Things for the most part remained platonic apart from a few lingering glances from each other. You didn’t want to put any pressure on the relationship. You had meant what you said when you told him you were here to help him. You would love Kit however you could get him be it romantic or platonic. You would always wait on him.

When he had come home one day in tears you had just held him. Alma had died that day and Kit had lost his wife for a third time and the children had lost their mother’s.

More time would pass and things became increasingly comfortable between you two. You had taken a teaching position at the elementary school the next town over and Kit continued to work as a mechanic.

It had been a day like many others when it happened. Kit had come home covered in a layer of oil and grease and you had been making dinner. After he had showered, he came into the kitchen to watch you cook and help Julia and Thomas with their homework. It was really quite domestic.

After dinner you had wrestled the children into bed and retired to the living room to watch television. You had felt the burning of Kit’s eyes on you and you turned to look at him pulling a face.

“Why did you stay?” He asked with a puzzled look on his face, “Your help has been indispensable, but it’s a year now and your still here. Aren’t you tired of me yet?”

“Oh, I can start looking for an apartment. I never wanted to overstay my welcome. I guess I just got comfortable being around you and the twins, is like breathing air” You rambled hiding your burning cheeks. He wouldn’t take that though and he grabbed you by your shoulders making you look at him.

“Doll I’m not kicking you out, you can stay forever if you want. I just don’t understand why you would want to stay with me,” he said and you gulped looking into his eyes.

“Oh Kit you’re the best person I know. Did you not get that with the hundreds of letters I sent to you in prison and while you were at Briarcliff” you joked trying to lessen the tension. You had never brought up the letters before you were honestly pretty embarrassed by them.

“What letters!?” He pulled back looking hard at you.

“I wrote to you everyday up until they announced your death” you explained cheeks filled with liquid fire.

“Fuck! He cursed getting up and pacing.

“I never got a single letter, y/n” he said and you not knowing what to do approached him opening your arms. He fell into your embrace burying his face in your hair.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked unsure of what to say.

“Don’t be sorry doll, but it still doesn’t explain why you want to be around me” He started in again and you couldn't help the anger that spilled forward. You took your fist and hit his chest.

“Because I love you dummy, I never stopped,” his eyes went wide at your declaration.

“What?” He asked dumbly, his limbs going numb.

“I love you Kit and I’ll always be there for you if you need me. If it’s only as a friend I can live with that, at least I get to be with you,” Your cheeks burned for the third time in what seemed like an hour.

Kit not knowing what to say decided to act on instinct. He gathered you in his arms and pressed his lips against your own in a searing kiss. You clutched at each other desperately the tension finally snapped.

“I love you too Doll.”

Requests are open drop a song or a prompt in my ask box ❤️

#kit walker x reader #kit walker #kitten #Kit walker is a babe #ahs asylum fanfiction #fluffy #evan peters #peter maximoff fanfiction #fem reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #ahs fanfiction #fanfiction

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peeterparkr · 4 years

Text

perfidy;tom holland|2

chapter 2: the movie scene

enemies to lovers au

story summary: Tom and you have been sworn enemies since you were young. However, you happened to be best friends with the twins. When one of your friends challenged you to break Tom’s heart, you immediately accepted to get back at him for all the times he’s hurt you. Old feelings might come back, while both of you try to go past your pride and your lies.

chapter summary: the first time you kissed and the last time he offered to kiss

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: swearing, flashback in italics, mentions of sex, fluffy-ish?, throwing up

word count: 5.5k

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

We never really want to give in to feelings when we are well aware they’re not reciprocated. It is dumb, and it makes us shy, and very very insecure. We all fear rejection coming our way, and rejection hurts our pride. It was a good thing that your feelings were only hatred. They were very much reciprocated.

Though people liked to point it out to you very often, and not so kindly. From hate to love there’s only one step.

You never really believed in that, but you knew that at least in your case, hate didn’t mean the absence of love. It never is, if we are honest.

But really, if you were honest to yourself, you did love Tom. In your own way, but you didn’t like him. Or stand him. Because everything he did annoyed you. And people loved to point out your certain reactions to whatever he did.

Sure, your cheeks got red, and you were flustered, but that was only the visible reactions to the headaches you’d get whenever he was around. Because he would always find his way to make you feel your worse, or prank you or ruin your big chances. Actions get reactions.

You were tired of him and you didn’t trust him, but you knew that if you ever needed help, and there was no one else who could help you, you could call him up. Yes, you loved him, in his own pathetic way, you'd grown up together, after all, and you knew every single detail about the other, which made things worse.

You grew behind his shade, and for a time, it didn’t matter but when he pointed it out, it did get on your nerves. Especially because he had been the one to get you to notice all your flaws.

And even if right now the feelings were mutual, you turned back to time when they weren’t. The first time he broke your heart, he had you wondering, all night long. An 8 year old already staring into the mirror and wondering what she had done wrong, wondering if she wasn’t pretty enough, had it been her hair? Was she just plain annoying? or if her voice wasn’t good enough or was it her personality?

Because you saw that he was always the one who everybody loved, so he had to know something about it. If he didn’t love you, or like you in that matter, he had to have a saying on it. Bullshit, he knew nothing.

You grew up, and now you knew it wasn’t your fault he didn’t like you. He was the one missing it.

However, you hated that he was always on the spotlight, and he’d be a big spoiled brat about it. Tom this, Tom that. It infuriated you that everything had to revolve around him, of course Mr. Big Shot was the star, and he had to brag about it. Especially around you. Your mother and big brother said it was only to get your attention.

“Please,” your brother James would say. “All straight men do is to be stupid enough around women so they’ll think, hey that’s incredible?”

Your brother’s theory relied on the fact that men are only stupid because they want women’s attention You know how straight men like to cannon ball at the pool parties? Yes, that’s because of you. You know how men like to shake beers and then down them as fast as they can? Yeah, that’s because of you.

You had a simpler theory, men are stupid by nature. Especially Tom, he was very stupid.

However, thanks to his constant seeking of attention, and the combination of his lack of intelligence, he’d often find himself acting pretty stupid around you. Thing which you absolutely loved. It gave you reasons to make fun of him.

Still, that loathing was deep inside you, and you knew that at any point, he could make you turn around and stab you right on your chest, never backstabbing, Tom wanted to make you well aware he was hurting you. You couldn’t trust him, because he made it very clear that he wasn’t your friend. He was a childhood close acquaintance.

Enemies. That’s it, that was the word. No need to sugar coat it. You had your history, and even though you could say that sometimes, like in that particular moment, you doubted your loathing was reciprocated, you knew he’d come back again with yet another way to prove to you he was a complete asshole.

So when you arrived at the building, and he got out of the car as well, you knew something was up.

“You don’t have to stay,” you reminded him. “I’ll take an Uber back home.”

“My mum invited you to lunch, and asked me to personally drive you, don’t read much into it,” Tom snapped.

“Oh, they’re still trying,” you rolled your eyes.

Tom chuckled. “Yeah, they believe we might get along if we keep having lunch together.”

“Why are we having lunch, though? Is there any special occasion?”

“Your interview,” Tom explained.

He followed after you into the building. You sceptically watched him.

“Well, but don’t you have better things to do?” You asked.

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “But I’d rather be here to help you, maybe I’ll even give you a pep talk.”

You clenched your jaw. “This is a big day for me, don’t ruin it.”

“I’m genuinely not trying to,” he chuckled. “I just happen to be very good at annoying you, sorry babe.”

“There’s a cafetería—“

“I know this place, sweetheart, remember I’m actually relevant in the film world.” He pushed you and walked past you.

“You know for being so relevant you’d think you’d be smarter. The cafeteria is upstairs, dickhead.”

He made his way into the elevator with you and watched you.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine, I guess,” you admitted.

“Hey, um… I know it’s not the time but I really am sorry for last week,” he pushed.

“I don’t want to talk about it now, Tom.”

“I didn’t know that you had-”

“I said I didn’t want to talk about it,” you repeated. You were barely recovering from it. And it hadn’t really been his fault. Except that he had so nicely done something you hadn’t quite loved.

You had just gone through a breakup about a month ago. Timmy. He had turned from being your everything to someone you’d rather forget now. A two-year relationship had just banished in front of you.

You wouldn’t have guessed he’d bring up Timmy over to you at Harry’s and Sam’s birthday dinner. You knew Timmy would be there, he was friends with most people there but having the audacity to walk in with another girl to your best friends party? Seemed sketchy.

You knew Tom didn’t know about the breakup, the last thing he had known was you guys were having problems.

“Oi, y/n look over there, that’s your boy, ain’t he? Why isn’t he here making out with you? Did he get tired of you?” Tom laughed as he walked over to you. “Wait, is he with another girl? Ooof, guess you guys are going to have another fight tonight, right?” He commented as you were just silently looking away. “Y/N, c’mon, that’s probably a friend, chill, hey, Timmo!” And he called out to him.

“Tom, please…”

“No, no, it’s alright, I’m saving you from having a fight, better have him around here! Timmy” He called out again.

And he had turned around and awkwardly waved.

“C’mon over, pretty boy,” Tom continued. “Don’t leave me with y/n.”

“Tom, don’t,” Harry Approached and warned him as he had noticed what Tom was doing.

Timmy never liked Tom. He said that Tom was unnecessarily rude to you, and he was right. Also, Timmy was one of those people who believed in the whole ‘from hate to love’ bullshit. He was sure that Tom and you would leave each other hot and bothered and that your hatred was only an excuse to hide away the real feelings towards each other. Timmy was often jealous of your relationship with any of the Hollands. ‘Tom is a big star, you could easily fall for him’.

Tim walked over anyway.

“Uh, hey guys,” he said awkwardly. “Hi, y/n.”

“Oi, what were you doing over there with a girl who’s not y/n?” Tom pushed. “That ain’t right mate,” Tom sounded drunk.

“Tom can you please stop?” Harry asked.

“Happy Birthday, Harry,” Timmy said awkwardly. He looked over at you. “Hi.”

“What happened between you both? Did you finally break up? Wouldn’t blame you Timmy, I don’t really get why you’re dating y/n, for that matter, don’t you get tired of it?” Tom pushed.

“We’re actually on a break right now,” Timmy cleared up, angrily.

Tom’s eyes widened with shock. You didn’t want to explain anything, so you walked away.

The elevator door opened and suddenly a black-haired, blue-eyed and around your age, gorgeous man had walked in. You knew about him, he worked on another show, he was also a writer, a full time one. But you knew that he was probably only there so he could be cast, and you really wondered why they hadn’t yet. Someone as gorgeous as him needed to be on all the screens.

Yes, Joseph Holt. Of course, you knew about him, someone as perfect as him couldn’t go unnoticed. His charming smile and personality was only too much to ask for.

He grinned at you.

“Morning,” Joseph smiled and then proceeded to stare at Tom.

“Morning,” you greeted him.

He took two seconds to look at your outfit. It was neat, nice, professional, and probably better as to how he probably saw you, with bags around your eyes and multiple Starbucks cups on your hands.

“You’re y/n, right? I’ve seen you working at ‘Crooked Manners’,” he pointed out.

“Yes, and you’re Joseph, right?” You grinned. “You work at ‘A little bit of Heaven’ right? With Cassey?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” he grinned and then gave a second glance to Tom. “You can call me Joe, though.”

Tom chuckled.

Joseph, Joe, turned around to see Tom. “I’m sorry, is there anything funny?”

“No, I’m sorry,” Tom grinned.

“So, you’re a writer, too?” Joe asked you.

“I am,” you closed your eyes. “Well, an assistant right now.”

Tom cleared his throat. You glared at him.

“Yes?” Joe asked.

“I’m just… I’m Tom.”

“Oh, so I did see right.” Joe nodded.

“Yeah, I’m Holland, Tom Holland,” he sassed.

“Calm down, 007,” you rolled your eyes.

“And I happen to be y/n’s boyfriend, very nice to meet you,” Tom grinned as he offered a hand to Joe.

Joe widened his eyes as he shook it. “Oh.”

“What?” You turned to Tom and nudged him. “No, no, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Ah, alright, sorry, friendship with benefits, I’m sorry darling, I thought we’d agreed on not calling it that anymore,” Tom smirked and placed his hand on your waist. Confused and angry, you pushed him off of you.

“He’s… not, no, no, nothing of that, he’s just… I know him alright?” You tried to clear up, and Joe chuckled, as confused as you were.

“That’s… alright. Do you think I could get your number?” Joe asked as he handed you his phone. “Just so.. You know we could help each other with any writing?”

“Yeah yeah, for sure, and just to clear it out, he’s not my boyfriend or anything, alright?” You cleared out as you typed in your number.

The elevator door opened up again.

“It’s fine, I’ll catch with you later, Y/N,” Joe grinned. “And um, nice meeting you, Tom.” He said as the elevator closed.

“What the fuck was that?” You turned to Tom and slapped his elbow . “What is wrong with you?”

“Ouch!” He yelled, “I’m helping you get laid,” Tom laughed.

“You… you fucking are what now?”

“I just made you at least 45% more appealing to that guy,” Tom laughed. “Please, he wouldn’t turn your way unless he knows that someone like me slept with you.”

“You’re a dickhead,” you stated.

“You know I’m right, and by your attitude lately I can actually assure you, you haven’t got any in awhile,” he noted. “I’m just trying to help you get someone to...how did he call it? write with.”

“I can handle that myself,” you snapped. “This isn’t any of your business.”

“Hm but it could be,” He smirked.

“Besides I don’t want him thinking I’d got any weird fungus down there from sleeping with you.”

Tom cackled, rolling his eyes. “You wish you had them.”

“So you admit you’ve got them?” You asked with a smirk as the door finally opened.

“I don’t--”

You got to your floor where your friends were waiting for you and were rather surprised when they saw who was behind you.

“Y/N!” Charlie called as he waved at you. He smirked. “Girl”

You stopped abruptly and turned to Tom. “The coffee is over there, I’m sure you can find your way around here, just follow the signs.”

“Ah, don’t you want me around your friends?”

“Now why would I want such a tragedy?”

He scoffed. “Fine, break a leg.”

You smiled. “Thanks, even though it’s not theatre.”

“I’m well aware of that,” he smirked and then turned around off to the cafeteria.

You made your way to your friends, also interns at the studio. Charles, who would often say his name was too absurd and proper for his personality was smirking at you proudly, while Danielle, your clumsy and rather quiet friend was rather interested in seeing Tom.

Charlie smirked and hummed. “I see, I see, strutting around with a little help, hmm classy girl, show off you’ve got pulls.”

You rolled your eyes. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Why didn’t he come and say hello?” Danielle asked with hope.

“He drove me here, and I don’t want you guys to deal with his bullshit,” you explained.

“Hmh,” Charlie stared at Tom. “Hmhm hun, I know you hate him, but homeboy is looking fine this morning.”

You raised a brow and turned around to look at him. “He’s wearing a black t-shirt,” you raised a brow. “What’s the hype about it?”

“Hm, I’m just saying I’d love to take it off,” Charlie sassed.

You rolled your eyes and turned to face your friends. “I really don’t see why you find him attractive, all his looks are erased by his personality.”

“So you do admit he’s got looks,” Charlie smirked. “I’m telling you girl, you secretly got the hots for him, and boy, I ain’t gonna blame you.”

Danielle grinned but then instantly blushed as she saw who was walking behind you.

“I forgot to ask,” Tom said, making you jump. He chuckled.

“What?” You frowned.

“I was going to ask if you wanted me to buy you anything, and I forgot I had brought you this,” Tom offered you a Lion Candy Bar. You raised your brows. “ But if you don’t want anything else… Or maybe your friends….”

“Hi!” Danielle grinned.

Joey grinned. “Hello.”

“We’re fine,” you said before your friends could keep on talking as you looked down at the chocolate “You’re being nice, what’s up?”

He grinned. “I know it’s a big day for you, I ain’t trying to mess it up and I know for a fact those are your favourites.”

“Or maybe you are, trying to freak me out by being nice,” you shrugged. “I know your games, Thomas.”

He chuckled. “Look, I just really want you to do well.”

“Thanks, now I’ll do better if you’re not around, you get me on my nerves” you pushed. “Bye.”

“I’m serious y/n, I know they’ll love you and your color-coded notes,” he chuckled. “Plus you’ve got good orthography.”

“Ah, sure that’s what they're looking for in a writer,” you laughed. “Now, please, Tom, I need to check important stuff.”

“You’re right, it’s not,” Tom grinned. “But you should loosen up a little, unless all writers look like constipated bitches.”

“Ah, original, a constipation insult, I see, you’ve learned no other insult in these last years, good to know I have to speak to you as if you were a thirteen year old boy.”

He clenched his jaw and watched you, as if he had just been challenged. “That's no way of talking to your boyfriend, darling.” Tom had placed his hands on your waist as you took them off, calmed but stiff.

“Leave,” you ordered him again.

He smirked as he stepped in closer. “How about a good luck kiss?”

You crossed your arms, and watched him judging. “Leave, Tom.”

“Such a shame, we don’t kiss that often anymore,” Tom laughed.

“We’ve never kissed,” you rolled your eyes.

“I’ve got proof we have,” he snickered and then proceeded to walk off. “Good luck, babe.”

You rolled your eyes. “I hate him.”

Charlie smirked. “You’ve kissed.”

“That’s absolutely none of your business,” you said. “Now can we please focus on…. I have an interview in an hour.”

“Darling, you’ve got some explaining to do first,” Charlie laughed. “Boyfriend?”

You rolled your eyes as you headed to the small cubicle the three of you shared.

“We bumped into Joe Holt,” you explained. “And Tom said we were a couple in front of him saying that if Joe believed that Tom was dating or sleeping with me it would make me 45% more attractive.”

Danielle grinned. “Joe Holt and Tom Holland?”

“Oh god, Danielle, get a grip,” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, and did Mr. Holt talk to you?” Charlie wiggled his eyebrows.

“Asked me for my number and everything,” you said proudly. “Which… Oh god. I mean it could mean nothing but…”

“Girl, you’re on fire,” Charlie chuckled. “Though he’s just another white boy.”

You laughed. “He’s still attractive.”

“But are you ready to date?” Danielle asked.

“Oh my god, Dan, he asked her for her number, not to suck his dick,” Charlie implied, making both you and Danielle giggle awkwardly.

“But she knows what I mean!” Danielle laughed. “Just a week ago we had her crying and listening to Taylor Songs.”

“Yeah, and weren’t you seeing Timmy tomorrow?” Asked Charlie condescendingly.

“Look, I’m…I’m ready to move on, you know?” You admitted. “We talked about a break that would last for a month and we’ll see how that goes, alright?”

“I’m not trying to steal your thunder but I myself got a date tonight, so, I’m just gonna pop that in,” Charlie giggled.

“Nice,” you smirked.

“But alright, are you ready for the interview?” Dannielle asked.

Danielle, Charlie and you were kind of the golden trio of the interns, you’ve known them since college. Not a big friendship back then but when the three of you met here, a sort of friendship started.

“It’s not really an interview, you know that right?” Charlie said. “I mean, they’ll probs just tell you you’re already hired, although I heard a word that they’re working on a new series and they might get you there.”

“A new series?” You asked.

He chuckled. “You didn’t hear it from me, but the word says that they’re asking some interns to come up with a story and then...they might have their big breakout.”

“Hm,” you shrugged as you placed the chocolate on the table.

“Aren’t you going to eat that?” Questioned Danielle.

“Tom gave this to me,” you barked as if it was so obvious.

Charlie smirked as he side eyed Danielle. “When is all this going to end?”

“When is what going to end?” You frowned.

“Please,” Charlie grinned as he leaned over. “We both know you don’t hate him.”

“I do.”

“But you care for him,” Danielle pushed.

“Hatred isn’t the absence of love, alright?” You rolled your eyes. “Hatred means according to the dictionaries, intense dislike.”

“So you love him?” Danielle asked with confusion.

“Ugh, yes because they grew up together,” Charlie explained. “Gosh, Dan, do you never listen?”

“Look, I can’t stand him,” you explained. “I just really think he’s very annoying, and I’m right, he is annoying and he can’t stand me either. We’re good with that relationship.”

“Have you kissed though?”

You scofffed. “Look, maybe once when we were teens? And…” You took a deep breath. “It meant nothing, you know? It really does mean nothing, but he likes to point it out every now and then.”

“Why?”

“Look,” you closed your eyes and gulped. “He… he was kind of,” you sighed. “We were at a party”

“Oh, seven minutes in heaven?” Charlie took a sip of his coffee. “Damn.”

“Yes, but it was stupid, alright?” You rolled your eyes. “I was… 17 and I was sad because my crush was there with another girl and I wanted to make him feel jealous” You felt weird only speaking about it. “And I told him.”

“Did you ask him to kiss you?”

“Look, I was very stupid and I kind of used to have a on and off crush on him and he was already an actor” you blushed. “Look, I was very stupid I was kinda drunk, too.”

“You still kissed fucking Spiderman?” Danielle chirped.

“But it’s no big deal,” you sighed. “Now, we hate each other and haven’t kissed since, alright?”

Though, it wasn’t true. Not really. You did think of it as a deal, not a big one, but a deal. Because also, the second statement wasn’t true. Tom and you had kissed each other, three times. Only one had meant something, the first one. The other two you blamed on the heartbrakes and one on alcohol and stupidity, they didn’t mean anything. Besides, after those two, things really didn’t go well. Only the first time you ever kissed was important to you both.

But the first one, you remembered it perfectly. But it wasn’t the time to think of it, right now.

“You know I’ve got a theory,” Charlie grinned.

“Everyone does,” you rolled your eyes. “Now if you don’t mind I need to focus.”

It bothered you how every single person would try and chirp in your relationship with Tom. There was no deep meaning behind it, just two people who enjoyed annoying each other and who hated each other’s company. That was it. Even you could joke about it with Tom, just like the lunch you’d be having later, it probably being the latest attempt your mother and his had to make you guys get along. They’d make you sit down together and often leave you alone, which only ended up insulting or you guys completely ignoring each other. It was annoying.

“I have a theory,” Charlie sang anyway. “That if you guys slept with each other all of this would be gone, all your said hatred,” Charlie grinned.

“That ain’t true, and I’d never sleep with him.”

“I’m sure all of this is from the sexual tension you’ve developed all over the years,” Charlie continued.

“Sexual tension?” You laughed. “He literally called me a constipated bitch, you… you call that sexual tension?”

“Straight men are weird,” Charlie shrugged. “And please, I’ve seen how he acts around you, he’s just like a damn child all smittened with you.”

“Yes, he does check you out from time to time,” Danielle admitted.

“Only to see what he can point out and make a shitty comment from it,” you rolled your eyes. “Look, it’s not gonna happen.”

“I’m just saying that you’d get along if you were both sweating against each other, and grinding and-”

“Gross,” You interrupted him. “The only thing you’ve got right is he’s a child.”

“Besides, I can bet you that if you were to ask him to have sex with you, he’d say yes without thinking about it.”

“Why would I ask him that?” You scolded.

Danielle laughed. “Because you also secretly have a crush on him.”

You watched them with disbelief. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“Look, maybe not from you but I can assure you that Tom desires you,” Charlie grinned.

“Oh god, guys this isn’t a Sandra Bullocks movie, just shut up.” You sat down and opened up your computer to try and focus on the interview you’d have.

“Didn’t Timmy say that?” Danielle asked.

“Oh, yes, that he was sure Tom did everything he did to impress you and take you away form him,” he laughed.

“If we’re honest, Timmy thought that of any man, even of you, Charles,” you mocked with a gentle giggle.

“Besides y/n you need a rebound,” Danielle insisted.

“Tom would be a hell of a rebound,” Charlie admitted. “Oof, I bet he’s great at the aftercare.”

“Yes,” Danielle agreed. “And I think that he’s not into weird things, you know?”

“Or like, good weird, you get what I’m saying?”

You watched them annoyed. “Oh my god, guys, you are taking as if that was actually going to happen,” you shook your head.

“Look, go ahead, ask him to have sex with you,” Charlie insisted as you watched him unbothered. “Please it’d take you less than ten minutes to get you to let you fuck him.”

“Oh, and they would like fall in love with each other,” Danielle said.

“What?” Charles laughed. “Girl, no I’m just trynna get her laid.”

“But wouldn’t it be romantic? A whole enemies to lovers story?” Danielle continued.

“Maybe he’d fall in love, not me,” you said. “I could easily make him fall in love with me and I wouldn’t catch a feeling.”

“Oh, will you, now? Wanna bet?” Charlie grinned.

“I’m not having this conversation, I’d rather go back to him,” you admitted as you walked off with your computer back to where Tom was, so peacefully sitting down scrolling on his phone as he was biting on half a sandwich.

He looked up at you, and you were probably blushing. It felt weird walking back to a man whom your friends had just suggested you should sleep with.

“Hi, they’re bothering me, I can’t concentrate and I’m going to go through a breakdown if I don’t- I’m not gonna bother you alright, I just need to calm down before everything.” And you were being honest with him, and you knew he understood.

He was a jerk, but not that big of a jerk.

“Yeah, no, it’s alright, sit down,” he shrugged as he offered you a seat.

Somehow you felt calm, because he noticed you needed that.

You sat down and didn’t even look at him, although you were fighting the urge not to.But your mind was actually thinking of him, not of the past conversation, no but your first kiss together, your first kiss ever. One which wasn’t on camera.

And the time came, and you were at your interview trying your best to listen and answer perfectly, but your mind went back to that first kiss and your mind went back to the conversation you had with your friends.

But it came to the kiss, that kiss. One which you knew you shared a secret of. It had been all you could expect from a first kiss, sweet and clumsy and very quick, a small peck on the lips he’d given you. And although, it had been weird.

You remembered it, Tom had noticed you were down and not even coming up with comebacks. You were tired, your friend Fabiola, the only one of your friends who remained with virgin lips had given her first kiss, with that kid Aaron with the red backpack.

So you remained to be the only one of your friends without a first kiss. There you were, a pathetic kid who was too busy writing stories and filming videos with younger kids that you had forgotten to have a first kiss.

You were watching as Tom was playing video games and you hadn’t once asked for the controller. It was one of his free days he had from Billy Elliot, and you weren’t sure why he had invited you.

“Okay, what’s up?” Tom asked, pausing the game.

You didn’t even look at him.

“Y/N, why aren’t you playing?” He pushed

You looked down at your pink chipped nails. “Am I ugly?”

“Yes, next question.”

You sighed. “Tom, I’m serious.”

“I am, too, what’s the deal?” He frowned and then started the game again.

“All my friends have given their first kiss,” you bit your lip. “And I haven’t. Is it because I’m ugly?”

“Well, do you have anyone you could kiss?”

“Well, not really.” You frowned.

He shrugged. “Then you’re ugly and alone.”

You frowned. “Have you had your first kiss?”

“I’ve had girlfriends, y/n.”

“See? You’re ugly and you’ve had your first kiss, it must be something else.”

“Your personality is ugly, too,” he pointed out. “Seems like you’re not gonna have a first kiss, ever.”

“Well I must, someday, don’t you think?”

Tom shrugged.

“Would I be that bad of an option for a kiss?” You asked sincerely.

He paused the game, and coughed. “I mean.”

You raised your brows. “What?”

“Not really.”

“Who was your first kiss? Angela?” You asked, knowing he had a crush on her. “Or another girlfriend?”

“I haven’t kissed anyone,” He admitted. “It’s… scary, you know?”

“How so?”

“I don’t know how to do it.” He blushed. “I...I get nervous just thinking about it.”

“Please, how difficult can it be? You just place your lips together,” you pointed out.

Tom frowned. “What do you know? You’ve never kissed anyone.”

“But I’ve seen movies,” you pointed out. “Look, let’s… watch a movie and maybe you can learn.”

Tom wrinkled his nose. “I’m not watching a movie, y/n, I know how it’s supposed to go.”

“Then why haven’t you done it?”

He frowned. “I dunno.”

You both stayed on the couch with your arms crossed. It seemed like you both knew the answer to your problem but neither of you wanted to address it. You stayed quiet, for a long time, on the edges of the couch, avoiding eye contact.

“Do you think we should-?” Tom asked.

“No.”

“Why not?” Tom frowned.

“Would you?”

“I-No, no.”

“Well,” you gulped. “Or….? Would you kiss me?”

“No…” Tom paused. “Not here on the couch.”

You stayed quiet again.

“I mean,” Tom intruded. “We could go outside.”

“Outside?” You looked at him. “Really?”

“But it would mean nothing, right?” He coughed. “Just so we can say we’ve kissed someone.”

“Yes.”

“Right.”

You both ran to the backyard where you were both sweating nervously. He watched you.

“We can’t tell anyone,” he said.

“No, no, we won’t,” you agreed, nodding quickly.

He took a deep breath watching you.

“Well, get it done already!” You chirped nervously.

He leaned over but giggled and backed away.

You laughed with him. “What?”

“I dunno, what if I ruin it?” Tom asked.

“I wouldn’t know this is my first kiss, too!” You said, nervously. You were getting butterflies in your stomach and you were sure your cheeks were getting red. Tom was made a tomato and he was shaking.

“Okay,” he gulped. “Uh.”

“Wait, but, in movies, the guy… usually holds the girl’s face,” you explained.

He nodded. “Right.”

“And the girl…” You were sure your stomach was going to explode. “Usually has her hand on his neck.”

And before you knew it, you were holding each other.

Tom gulped as he stared at you and you could see each and every freckle on his face.

“Okay, close--close your eyes,” he said as he cupped your face.

You did, and before you could think of it, Tom had placed his lips on yours, and you had pressed yours against his. 5 seconds, that’s how long it had lasted before you both pulled away and pushed each other away.

And you had gotten nervous enough, enough to even get you to run to the bathroom and throw up.

Just like you were about to throw up now.

“So I’m very glad, y/n, you’re very talnted and we’d like to offer a place in here, however, well you might have heard of this, but we’re looking for a fresh new story, we’re talking about giving you a big shot, write a story based on a personal experience, you see the idea of the new series is to make it as human as possible so we’re asking all of you, if we can work on it.”

“Oh, I didn’t know about it,” you lied. “That sounds interesting.”

“Well, it’s anything really, but alright, do you have any ideas to pitch in?” Your boss, Alessandra, asked.

“Right now?”

“Yes, anything. Let’s see that creative side of yours, I’m not telling you to give me the whole story, maybe just a prompt from your life.”

“Hm,” you bit your lip. “I... well, I’ll.... do something about childhood enemies to lovers, maybe.”

“Hm, a classic, happened to you? Did you fall in love with your childhood enemy?”

“I... well,” you cleared your throat. “Not really,” you squeezed your eyes. You were very nervous. “I mean, I’m kind of... trying to make that happen.” You were speaking without even thinking about it.

“Oh, how so?” She raised her brow.

“Well, I was trying to prove to a friend that I could make my enemy fall in love with me and I wouldn’t catch any feelings.”

Alessandra smirked. “I love that, work on it, do it, keep a journal of it, write it, make it entertaining and tell me the results, ooh, I really like that, ”Alessandra grinned as she looked up. She often did that when writing as if she was seeing the picture in her head. “It’d need to have a catchy name... But sounds promising.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, it can involve drama, love, humour, it’s perfect, we’ll see, and it’s the best way to hurt an enemy, so chop chop, go do it, I trust you, and we’ll see you in a month, keep a journal of it, remember, thank you y/n.”

You thanked her and did the exact same thing you’d done after giving your first kiss. You ran to the bathroom and threw up.

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literaphobe · 4 years

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season one of she-ra rated by catradora content

the sword part 1: right off the bat we find out just what adora’s all about. she’s a so called goody two shoes but she’ll lie to authority to protect catra.... ok lesbian lmao. but then we meet catra and she’s like “hey adora ;) how’s it hanging?” and we get it. we completely get it. oh my god. everything from the way catra talks to the way she laughs. adora never stood a chance :( we get a classic locker room flirting scene where catra teases adora and adora pretends she’s above all that only to be like hey cat gf is that a MOUSE which is very rude :( don’t scare ur cat gf or she will become evil :( oh wait. anyway.... their flirting gets cut short because homophobia walks in and separates them :/ before that tho she praises adora. adora who loves her gf so much ignores shadow weaver’s praise and says “catra did so good tho <3” and puts her arm around catra which pisses off the only homophobe in etheria. adora doesn’t really want to follow shadow weaver because she just wants to be with catra, and she even argues with shadow weaver about bringing catra onto the field with her. but she loses the argument because shadow weaver fucking sucks and has no idea how to be chill :/ catra finds adora after that and greets adora the way all gals greet their pals. by... pouncing on her waist. ok lol. catra is so proud of her gf getting promoted and says baby i love you <3 baby when are we leaving <3 except adora says catra’s not allowed to come :( so cat gf gets sad and runs to the roof. in response, adora gets a literal Grappling Hook to chase after her. adora doesn’t want her gf to be sad so she steals a skiff and they go on a date <3 but they’re so obsessed with control and play fighting with each other that adora falls off the skiff and finds out she’s like. god with a sword. i mean she-ra. uh, so adora fake wakes up in a dream and is like catra? :( because catra is the only thing she ever looks for when she wakes up (yes i am clowning. of course i know catra was the only person she was with but shhhh), and then she wakes up for real and catra is straddling her waist, which... ok. catra worries about her gf maybe being brain damaged so they cut their date short and go back to the fright zone. they go to sleep, and have their nightly sleepover, which means they sleep in the same bed :) even tho catra’s own bed is already on top of adora’s :) superb :) anyway adora dreams about her lesbian sword and wakes up scared. she smiles when she sees catra sleeping soundly in her bed however because uwu cat gf go zzzzz. adora gets out of bed which catra IMMEDIATELY senses because she opens her eyes right after and follows adora. because uh.... their friendship is just that lit and strong. catra is worried and wants to follow her gf to find this cool lesbian sword she keeps talking about, but adora makes perhaps one of the worst calls ever and tells catra to stay behind because she doesn’t want to get catra in trouble :( which is like, she has good intentions and all, but you should always bring your gymnast cat gf along when u look for sick ass gay swords. adora would know that if she wasn’t raised by the literal embodiment of gay oppression. oh well. guess they’re gonna have to fight each other for five seasons to figure it out. 9.5/10 because we got so much content all literally in the first ep. it’s like hey look they’re in love and they’re girlfriends who touch each other way too much. and we’re like noelle that’s really cool! will we get more gf content? and noelle said yes but also you’ve got a big storm coming! and it’s going to kill you!

the sword part 2: against adora’s wishes, catra gets in trouble for adora’s departure, and this makes catra sad bc where did her gf go? :( shadow weaver accuses catra of knowing where adora is because despite her raging homophobia she still knows that adora wouldn’t go anywhere without telling catra. and she’s right but just because she’s right doesn’t mean i have to like her. anyway... catra gets sent to bring adora back to the fright zone, and even tho shadow weaver threatens her in scary horrid ways catra is only happy to see adora again and once again pins her to the ground with her knees on adora’s.... yea........ and she’s happy bc she has a tank :) good for u catra we all love and cherish you <3333 anyway catra makes fun of adora because she thought adora got captured which... technically true but also not but also! catra sees a flower in adora’s hair which she takes to mean that adora cheated on her :( wtf :( and adora says no baby :( no i didn’t cheat on u :( and catra is like. ok fine. let’s go back to the horde. and adora says baby we can’t go back to the horde :( did u know that they were evil? im woke now. come be woke with me. and catra is like. wait. u just realized the horde sucks? did you not see shadow weaver electrocute me. did you think she did that for gay rights? and adora is like catra baby i didn’t mean it like that :( but it’s too late. it’s all very upsetting and i don’t wanna get into it. essentially catra thinks she can escape shadow weaver’s abuse by fighting the horde from within but adora thinks she can escape shadow weaver’s abuse and the horde’s evil by literally escaping the horde. u can see where both of them are coming from and that’s why it’s so sad :( it’s so fucking sad y’all :( they do their whole. come with me vs stay with me thing,,, and it doesn’t work out. duh it’s like ep 2 why would it work out. catra finds out that adora can use her lesbian sword to turn into a taller lesbian and instead of giving into her gayness and marrying adora right away her internalized homophobia makes her run away :( she thought adora doesn’t care about her anymore because she has new friends and can turn into a giant sword lady :( and it’s all very sad :( 8.5/10

razz: adora’s having trouble turning into she-ra. no one asked, but based on this whole show, it’s because she just broke up with catra and that hit hard :( it’s pretty hard to turn into ur superhero alter ego when you’re yearning. back at the horde, catra is also yearning. she is bitter because everyone is raving about how lit she-ra is and catra is like yeah she-ra is sexy but can we have a discussion about how she-ra breaks your heart. how she-ra makes you cry. how she-ra abandons you for new friends and doesn’t want to be your gf anymore? have we considered that? and everyone is confused because why does catra seem like she knows she-ra so well. didn’t you just meet her catra? and even tho catra is a bitter ex who’s angry and wants revenge she’s still like. in love with adora and wants to protect her. so she acts cool and doesn’t tell anyone that adora is she-ra. even tho lonnie tells catra not to be so feral because “adora’s not here to protect you anymore” catra still wants to protect adora. okay. yes the thought of that does make me wanna cry. what about it. catra goes and lies on their shared adora’s bed. and she sees the teeny drawing of catra and adora on the bed frame. it reminds catra of the break up and she scratches adora’s picture. she regrets it like instantly and starts destroying the bed. and she cries. she like cries real tears what the FUCK. and then SHADOW WEAVER WALKS IN?? rude much?? can’t a girl get some privacy as she mourns a break up with a girl she’s been in love with her whole life but technically never dated for real? 9/10

flowers for she-ra: adora realizes that it’s a pretty bad idea to break up with your girlfriend when you spent your whole life sleeping in the same room/same bed as her and she comes to the Very Shocking realization that she gasp! cannot sleep without catra! wow who would have thought! so she immediately goes on a search for a sleeping partner rebound... who is glimmer (sorry glimmer it’s her first time not having her gf) and she even sleeps at glimmer’s feet the way we saw catra sleep at adora’s feet. really makes you wonder if catra and adora take turns doing that? sleeping at each other’s feet because their internalized homophobia (thanks a lot shadow bitch) prevented them from going a step further and sleeping in each other’s arms... oh well. meanwhile, catra is gloating about being force captain, but she’s also Still protecting adora’s identity as she-ra. and apparently, drawing pictures of she-ra? that she hid from shadow weaver? is that what happened? i can’t tell if she drew that picture or not but the way it looks from the scene she Definitely drew that picture! hello????? anyway, catra’s still crying to anyone that has ears about how her gf dumped her, when really it was kind of a mutual break up that was entirely shadow weaver’s fault even tho she wasn’t there. sigh. i’m bringing this up to a 7/10 because of “it’s just a phase! she’s confused, i’ll bring her back, i swear :(“

the sea gate: “i’ve got something more important to do” and here we see the start of catra literally abandoning all other duties because she would rather go flirt with her enemy gf... she literally hopped onto she-ra’s sword.... she insult her gf....... she brag to her gf about achievement.... but she also want her gf back :( adora refuses to go back to the land of oppression tho so they get into a. really suggestive fight. and catra always makes adora leaving the horde out to be adora leaving her.... she’s like babe i am literally so sexy. why would you dump me :( i’m hot :( and she’s right but i hate them. can y’all just like. not be so gay? :/ it’s starting to make me a lil bit homophobic tbh! and catra whispers into adora’s ear but it’s kind of like an insult so she gets water slapped and is forced to stop flirting :( boooo 8.5/10

system failure: hm. catra wasn’t in this ep? damn :( it’s a great ep but it’s pretty hard to find any catradora if adora is delirious the whole time and catra isn’t there. but! drunk/high adora existing gives us an idea of what she would be like around catra. 1/10 for the potential

in the shadows of mystacor: catra’s face when she sees adora in shadow weaver’s spy cam thing... interesting. she also acts like she’s So Sick of the adora missions which is true but also she is lying. kind of annoying that shadow weaver would be like. homophobic. but when she’s messing with adora’s head in mystacor she uses catra’s voice and laugh to achieve maximum effect :/ which like. thanks? but catra wasn’t actually there so shadow weaver really full on gaybaited adora huh :/ adora eventually defeats shadow weaver and we finally see catra again uwu she ends up plotting to kidnap bow and glimmer but the line “if you want to take down adora, you have to go for the heart” is so interesting because we eventually find out just how much of adora’s heart is filled with catra... 4/10 on its own 6/10 if you let the heart comment ruin your life!

princess prom: ARE Y’ALL READY TO PARTY oh my god,,, this is it you guys. this is THE ep. so funny of adora to be like. i have so many plans for every single thing that might happen. i am GOING to spend the party getting princess frosta to join the rebellion. and then catra shows up and adora is like nvm. what if i followed catra wherever she went instead. which is very interesting! adora, sweet baby, why do you always assign yourself to fight/follow/chase catra? when according to her in future eps is actually a bad decision which we can infer from her saying stuff like catra knows my every move she will be able to take me down,, ok then stop hogging her all the time?? anyway. let’s get into things chronologically. “how dare those princesses pretend they’re better than you? just because you’re different? how dare they abandon people just because they don’t fit in with their perfect little lives? how DARE they take best friends and turn them into giant sword ladies who run off with people clearly inferior to you?!” catra.... u got sth to say there buddy? :/ u got something u wanna get off your chest? :/ u had us in the beginning but then you started to get really specific :/ what’s that about sweetie :/ catra’s coping mechanism for this is to put on a really hot suit and going to princess prom to seduce the shit outta adora? fucking genius. yes she also kidnapped two people but let’s focus on the ingenuity of catra’s plan to make adora hot and heavy and also somehow jealous the entire time. incredible. so, catra shows up at the prom with scorpia and adora immediately starts bickering with her about rules. she fails to get catra kicked out so she resolves to stalk her instead! and catra... oh catra... she puts on a whole show..... performing everything from popping a tiny cake into her mouth to circling around a pillar seductively and dropping a note into a bin that says hi adora >:3 with a drawing of catra’s face that she worked hard on!! and adora looks like a crazy stalker ex gf and everyone is like damn.... u ok? :/ but adora doesn’t have time to care too much aside from a little “haha i swear i’m not a weirdo!” look because her mind is just screaming CATRA CATRA CATRA and she finds catra creeping up to entrapta. but ofc catra’s not trying to push entrapta off the ledge! no! she’s using entrapta to make adora jealous :3 catra pulls entrapta close and says “she stole my food and then asked me to spy on people with her. is this what love feels like?” and it WORKS and adora has to pull entrapta aside and be all hey i know we’re not super close yet but the bro code kinda states that u don’t date ur friend’s ex :/ so could you please back off? and entrapta is like say what now? ur gf just ditched btw so adora goes running after catra again and surprise surprise! it’s time to dance! and there are romantic lights and music! and uh oh! everyone else has a partner except for catra! guess this means adora’s gotta dance with her ohhhhh noooooooo :/ “i don’t know about you.... but i am having a blast” i really don’t think catra was lying!! i am on the verge of passing out!! adora moving away from catra after saying “whatever it is you’re planning, it won’t work!” and catra, many dance partners later, slamming back into adora’s body to continue their conversation with “maybe my plan won’t work, but then again...” THE DIP!!!!!!! “maybe it already has...” oh my god you guys. what the fuck. like they get into an angry shove fight after this but the tension! the tension! and then adora LIFTS catra up in the air? real close? they get ice blocked by frosta after this, more specifically she traps adora because she shoved catra first djfjdjdjdjd,,, after telling glimmer to find bow catra grazes adora’s chin with her tail to remind her that she’s still here!! don’t neglect!! and catra says the iconic “it was fun distracting you though ;)” line that adora was clearly affected by because she memorizes it and says it back to catra..... years later. i CANNOT make any of this shit up. what the fuck y’all. the fact that these evaluations are so long bother me but i HAVE to call these hoes out!! moving on, adora runs after catra in a very dramatic chase/fight scene, and adora is very amped up on uh, hormones. she catches catra at a “dead end” and goes “hah! trapped >:)” which is such a stupid thing to say to ur cat gf who can jump very high, so catra says “you wish ;)” and it is just. everything they are saying sounds very suggestive okay why are they LIKE THIS anyway catra jumps up some floating ice and adora follows her up the floating ice because she’s gay and she will jump however much is required of her to chase her gf down ok!! and so adora and catra are now on some ice cliff where adora keeps lunging and they’re also kind of like dancing? and catra is being very ~smooth~ dodging all of adora’s strikes and hitting her in one move. that’s kind of cool but also don’t bully your gf :( come on catra :( not cool :( but adora doesn’t give up and they continue fighting, until one missed move from catra nearly sends her off the cliff. but adora thinks she’s hot and she’s in love with her so she’s like nooo catra don’t fall off this cliff ur so sexy aha and catches her by. the waist. not the hand! but by the waist. any normal person would’ve gone for the hand. factually speaking, catra’s hand is easier to reach than her waist. but adora’s a hoe. so, she grabs catra by the waist and pulls her in closer by grabbing! oh you guessed it! her chest! like she grabs her shirt but it’s the part of the shirt that was at the chest. what the fuck. they both get this look in their eye that makes it seem like they want to kiss each other???? hello????????? and like. very upsettingly we now know that they’ve always wanted to kiss each other so. that knowledge makes watching this scene even worse. they shouldn’t have become enemies if they were going to be this horny. they’re so distracted by each other’s lips that they forget they’re standing at the edge of a cliff and guess what! they fall off the cliff! what a twist! but adora is like i’m NOT going to die because i was distracted by catra’s lips, so she grabs her hair stick thing and stabs it into the ice cliff. she grabs catra by the hand to save her, not the waist this time, because holding catra’s hand is also gay so she might as well do it. too bad catra lets go of her hand and ditches her tho :( i would minus points for that except it wouldn’t make much of a difference. catra says “see you later, princess ;)” because she’s already expecting to see adora again.... good lord 4828473737373/10 thanks noelle! i died

no princess left behind: but i’m a buddhist so i’m back. we open with catra laughing so prettily looking at her gf’s lesbian sword. very cute. later on, when shadow weaver betrays catra and tells her to go pack her things because she’s not needed anymore... adora gives her this look? :( she looks like she feels bad because catra’s clearly still suffering under shadow weaver’s thumb. but let’s zero in on the most important part! catra dragging the sword and pointing it at adora, before turning it around and giving it to her. “this is NOT because i like you” ok catra i didn’t think that before but now i Absolutely believe that you did this because you like adora. and u can tell adora kind of is like. ready to start her whole “you can come with me! we can be together! :(“ thing but things are complicated and catra told her to Just Go so... it is a lot and we know things are deeper than just catra liking adora but we will get emo over that later. 9/10 that was a good fucking scene

the beacon: “she left me behind too, like i was nothing :(“ some people say this is catra manipulating entrapta, and they are correct, but also she’s like.. “oh adora left you too? mad kin :(“ she was deadass about to start a support group with entrapta and technically she kind of did! good for them <3 catra goes to look for first ones tech and adora goes to look for the beacon to learn how to heal and guess what happens! they’re looking for the same place! catra’s “on second thought... hey adora >;)” at the end pushes this up to an 8/10, but that’s just like the last five seconds of the ep so objectively the rest of the ep was like. 4/10 idk lmaoooo

promise: finally some good fucking food. catra follows adora into the beacon and has a little fun spying on her and enjoying her epic fails at getting information on she-ra. she also finds the first one tech she needs, because she’s a multitasker and she can spy on her gf while doing important missions <3 but also she gets caught and adora nearly kills her fksjdjd “hey watch it! >:(“ is so funny because catra??? u are trespassing???? but also uwu baby yeah don’t accidentally kill ur gf adora :( adora’s reaction is also very funny “catra? what are you doing here? :O” as if catra hasn’t shown up at 70% of the places adora has been, but the way she asks it’s like. adora is happy to see catra? pleasantly surprised? man she is whipped. anyway, adora tries to pull the Tough Girlfriend move and like, mildly scold catra for trespassing into a building where only one person (she-ra) is allowed to be in. but she still grabs catra’s hand and guides her to an escape path :’) she lifts up a giant door thing and waits until catra runs in to let go and run after her <3 chivalry isn’t dead after all <3 they get into a lover’s tiff as they run for their lives and essentially it’s like “babe wtf WHY are giant mutant spiders trying to kill us isn’t this ur house” “they’re trying to kill YOU this is why you ring the doorbell instead of running in secretly after i open the door!” “oh and how was i supposed to know that! why can’t you just tell your teenage mutant ninja spiders to chill out??” “they’re not house-trained babe :( i moved in two minutes ago they came with the apartment” anyway the angry spider monsters catch up to them so catra goes “adora? :(“ and that’s enough for adora to take Direct Action so she slashes the walls and ceiling of the room they’re in before grabbing catra to shield them both. she is NOT getting her deposit back but uwu anything to keep gf safe <3 adora transforms back to her usual body and she once again reminds catra that she’s Not Supposed To Be Here and she’s like “god now i have to like Protect You and it’s gonna put my life in danger :/ haha what are you gonna do for me in return tho ;)” and catra is like. “well good thing i didn’t ASK you to protect me” so adora is like :( —> >:( wait u know what??? ok u know what????? why are u here >:( how’d u find me?? >:( and do u mean any of this in a gay way?? >:( say it’s in a gay way right now >:( and catra is like. ur gay castle sent a gay beam of light into the sky. i saw it immediately bc im gay but i do NOT mean this in a gay way. and adora is like oh :( ok :’( and then asks about shadow weaver bc she saw what went down in the horde and she like. i think she can tell shadow weaver still exerts some form of control that catra hasn’t broken free from? :( and then catra is like haha shadow weaver is a LOSER and adora starts giving her Gay Looks and it makes catra scared because her gf now thinks she has a crush on her!!!!!!! how Embarrassing!! “ugh, i knew you’d be weird about me letting you escape” ok so why did you say that thing about not liking her? “i told you it’s not because i like you!” there it is! that’s EXACTLY what i thought you’d say you lesbian! and the way she says it??? she definitely likes adora???? she is so bad at lying?????? and adora is so smug about it like her Face plus her crossed arms and the whole “i mean, i didn’t ;) i didn’t say anything ;)” her eyes.... your honor she’s gay...... she’s like what if we were in my secret castle..... standing amongst the rubble because i destroyed the infrastructure to protect you..... and we were both girls....... adora was Ready to turn her sword into a Bed right then and there ok!!! it’s not me it’s Her Eyes,,, anyway catra starts being salty again and brings up bow and glimmer and is like hey where’s those idiots u dumped me for :/ thought you looooooved hanging out with them and doing everything with them :/ like we used to :/ are they not as fun to hang out with adora is that why you’re standing in this spider infested building with me instead :/ and adora suddenly remembers that she can’t just be horny and that she has to hold catra accountable for her actions so she’s like oh my friends? the ones who u kidnapped and held for ransom???? >:( and catra is like ya what other friends would i be talking about :/ like god i know she’s evil but she’s so funny take her back adora :( jk ik ur gonna start begging her to Come With You in like minutes u absolute simp. but before that happened catra was like fuck u lets Split Up >:( we already broke up why would we run away from spiders together huh? unless u still like me? but clearly there’s only one way for them to walk so they can’t split up just yet and adora gives catra this >:( look so catra is like FINE one last date and they walk away together. they go into this... dark room and catra wants to leave the dark room because she’s scared of ghosts :( jk but the door disappears and something scans catra and adora and light hope is like cool! time to show them memories that are specifically picked to make catra resent adora! which :( not cool light hope :( i get that ur a bot who’s programmed to serve the homophobic agenda but damn u were gay once too :( anyway they’re sent to a memory in the fright zone and adora gets Angry bc she thinks catra tricked her and catra is like i wouldn’t play u like that :( and she finds out it’s all fake so she’s like adora :D u don’t have to be scared or mad at me anymore! :D she goes to look for adora but adora’s watching a memory of them when they were six and being really cute. back when adora had the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair and only really cared about making catra happy and having her back. catra blinded octavia and insulted her and adora was still like: ur not bleeding ur bones aren’t broken and u picked a pointless fight with someone who did not provoke you in any way. where is she i will insult her some more. i love u. like damn adora really do be a ride or die girl huh!! she’s still like this but they both have too many issues to realize it :( anyway catra and adora slip into the catra and adora of their memories and begin running off together holding hands............ and then they Realize they’re running off together Holding Hands....... and catra pulls away because of her internalized homophobia :( devastating. they get into a tiny little fight over magic and kidnapping again and then adora’s face softens and she’s like catra :( why Did you let me escape :( i know i made fun of u for it before but i legit do not know if u meant it in a gay way. pls confirm? :( u could have gotten caught catra :( why did u risk it :( is it because you secretly want to run away with me and join the rebellion? :( and be my gf? :( she’s so caught up in her questions that she nearly falls off a cliff AGAIN and catra catches her by the hand because these girls are obsessed with almost falling off cliffs to their deaths and saving each other. don’t judge them their Intricate Rituals are THAT deep. and catra is like. did you really think. i would let shadow weaver erase your memory like that? and risk you forgetting our relationship? even towards the end when we were broken up and fighting each other it was kinda lit and i want u to remember it. and adora is an idiot so she’s like idk lmao probably aren’t u like evil now and catra is like well you have a point but also fuck u for thinking i don’t care about u,,, u never did have too much faith in me :( and adora is like can u blame me :( and catra is like ur hot so.... no. i will let my tail linger on your hand as a hint that i still love you. and then catra is like.... adora i know u said fuck horde rights but does that include our relationship :( u had good memories right :( of me? :( and adora is like um duh??? i miss you so goddamn much too oh my god and catra is like hey how dare you imply that i missed you even tho it’s true!!! get over urself! and adora is like not until you admit you like me ;) and they play fight again because the rituals are so intricate..... and catra lies and says she doesn’t like adora ok lmao... they enter the next memory and it’s catra and adora sparring and they’re competitive but it’s also flirty? catra pretends to be hurt to get adora to let her guard down but lonnie interferes and this causes adora to beat catra. which. yeah :( and after adora wins she does the good gf thing where she asks catra if she’s okay and catra’s not ok but she lies and hides away to cry :( and we get it babe we do!! it’s hard being in love with someone who you’re also resentful of because you’re raised in a competitive environment and always treated like you’re worthless in comparison :( but the simulation stops and catra is caught by one of the spiders and adora doesn’t manage to save her in time, grabbing her hand only to fail and have catra slip through her fingers :( they scream for each other but catra manages to get the upper hand on the spider monster, except adora charges in at the last second and delivers the final blow, further driving home the false point that light hope is trying to make :( adora just wants to protect catra but because of their upbringing catra sees it as adora always wanting to be the best and adora thinking she’s better than catra hence her telling catra what to do “all the time” which isn’t totally true but it’s what catra has been led to believe :( and also adora’s upbringing plays into it too because she thinks she has to save everyone and take responsibility for everything and it’s all just really sad bros :( what the fuck :( adora apologizes for leaving again and tries to convince catra she never meant to leave her and that she wants catra to come with her because she knows catra isn’t a bad person :( and you can see!! catra considering it!! but then precisely BECAUSE catra is considering it the memory simulation thing kicks in again and... hoo boy. we see catra and adora sneak into the black garnet chamber, after being cute and competitive and running around the horde swinging from wire to wire.... they get caught by shadow weaver and she specifically punishes only catra. and it’s so fucked because it puts adora in this position of guilt where she always feels like she has to protect adora whilst slowly brainwashing her over the years into believing that catra does do disobedient things and that adora can only escape that if she’s always perfect and taking charge of everything. and for catra.... it takes the mutually loving relationship they have and poisons it because shadow weaver makes it very clear that to her, catra’s only redeeming quality is that adora favors her? and if not for that she would be disposed of? and so it’s very hard for catra to find individuality and a healthy connection to adora which created unresolved resentment and issues and just... :( and the whole confrontation they have after the simulation ends... adora could never protect catra in the way she needed to be protected because adora was also a child, and receiving a different form of abuse, and it’s just. harder for catra to leave? especially because she didn’t receive a sudden destiny the way adora did and her issues with the horde were never limited to morality. and so catra is just. she has way too much to work through and she can’t see past her resentment for adora because the machine is making her remember all of it. and so she tells a half truth and half lie to adora about giving her the sword because she didn’t want adora to come back :( catra runs away from adora and is attacked by flashes of memory. and then she faces one last memory alone. and it’s the promise adora made to catra when they were kids, about always looking out for each other, and catra looks at kid!catra and thinks adora has broken that promise, still stinging from the hurt of adora leaving her behind after finding the sword and becoming she-ra. it was never meant to be like this but catra is hurting so she focuses only on her side of things and how she saw these events play out and she :( decides to kind of betray adora? it hurts So Much because adora looks so hopeful when she sees catra while hanging on for dear life, and she thinks catra will save her again but catra talks about how the sword won’t work for her because she’s never been the Special One like adora was always heralded to be in the horde. and having adora literally be she-ra just drives that point home for catra and she hates adora for it because this means all the other stuff she believes is true too. adora made her feel weak on purpose, adora made catra think she needed her on purpose. “every hero needs a sidekick, right?” and adora’s “catra, no, that’s not how it was!” hits even harder now because we know that adora just. loved catra. she was in love with her but adora was also like catra in that she’s a product of her circumstances and upbringing. she was the way she is as a means of survival. but the one thing there that was pure and true was that they loved each other.... upsettingly neither of them can see that. catra goes down even further into the path of evil and thinks that. being free of adora. is the thing that will liberate her and bring her happiness. which. she is wrong about. but she can’t exactly see all that clearly right now :( and adora begging catra not to “do this” which... means she’s begging her not to leave? “bye adora! i really am going to miss you” and adora’s desperation skyrockets but it’s too late :( catra doesn’t come back for her and adora cries.... and it’s just so insane that literally everyone who wants to control adora focuses on poisoning her bond with catra because that’s the relationship that... matters most to her in the world. when you’ve loved someone your whole life it hurts when they betray you and it hurts to betray them too, as we can see from catra when she arrives back at the horde. she essentially looks Wrecked and freezes up when scorpia calls her “the best friend ever!” but i want to make one quick note of her “personal space” talk with scorpia? like fjdjdjdjd you have never had personal space with adora not once in your life ok that’s reserved for the gf only i see. 10/10 i am so wrecked emotionally this is way too much but also because it makes me so emo i will give it a perfect score but nothing else. no bonus points because i do not want to reward putting me in pain!

light hope: light hope showing adora the memories that make her feel guilty and it’s the first scene where catra sees her as she-ra and walks away.... adora’s been feeling guilty over catra since the moment she failed at getting catra to leave the horde :( 3/10

the battle of bright moon: “catra will be leading the horde when they attack. i have to face her.” it’s so interesting how there’s so many pressing things at hand? the weather is screwy, the alliance is broken, no one’s coming to save them, the rebellion could be crushed, but the thing that is really bothering adora, the thing that she brings up first, is catra. “i saw catra in there. i thought i could get through to her, but all i did was push her farther to the side of evil” she sounds... so heartbroken about it all :( catra and adora meet on the battlefield and the first thing catra says is,,, u guessed it,,,, “hey adora.” and adora’s like “catra. surprised to see me?” and like damn they’re really so good at being enemies. the talent. the tension. impeccable. and then catra says nah i didn’t think u died and im glad u made it out alive. and adora, bless her soul, is like oh.... u mean in a gay way..... u didn’t want me to die..... for homosexual reasons?? and catra is like no! haha! i uh, i just wanted to kill u in a cooler much sexier way. and adora is like oh :( oh >:( oh >:’( and they get into a very heated sexy fight like catra wanted. and they taunt each other like. “i thOUgHt yOU weRe suPposED tO bE stRoNG” “aND i tHouGHt yOu wERe sUpPOsEd tO bE fAst” you know. very cool well crafted taunts. and like. they fight a lot which is kind of sad but also kind of sexy because their styles are like? similar and different? which is the dumbest way to compare any two things ever but like :( y’all get what i mean right :( we get one more Hanging Off A Cliff scene and this time adora grabs catra by the chest and shoves her against the wall, and catra is like cool! but u did this,, for what? and then adora realizes catra was just distracting her Again and bright moon is very badly under attack :( catra bids her adieu so adora can run back and fight. but she like. gets caught :( and catra walks up to her and gently caresses her cheek before adora passes out and it’s evil but it’s also tender? but it’s also evil i know i know :( all of the princesses come to help adora so she sends a beam of magic gay light and heals everything and then all the princesses send a gay tsunami washing over catra. the horde loses, and catra retreats in a skiff, but adora and catra exchange one more Look as she leaves... hm. 9/10

#text #she ra #catradora #spop #this post... is so stupidly long #its essentially like a recap shitpost #but i give it a score out of 10 #i considered redoing the whole post but :(#it is what it is:(#hope y'all like this #please at least find this mildly entertaining #i hope to god the read more thing doesn't break #because...... this is long apologies in advance #hope its not too hard to read

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guardianofrivendell · 4 years

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When I first started this blog 6 months ago, I never would have thought - not even in my wildest dreams and believe me... they can be pretty wild - that it would be the whirlwind it has been so far.

And yet, now I’m here; 42 stories and 2 multichapter fics later and with almost 1000 followers... 😱

I can’t thank you guys enough. Really...

Although sometimes I had the feeling of “stop following me! 😂” because it does add a certain pressure to perform, but I try not to let it get to me too much. I have no reason to complain really.

I’ve met so many amazing people, made tons of friends and learned so many things, improved my writing, ...

There are people who made me fics and art, for no reason at all except that they’re the most wonderful people on this planet. Never would I have thought that I would be welcomed like I was in this fandom.

To celebrate I want to throw another sleepover! This will run until FEBRUARY 1st 8 am CET (GMT+1)

❤️ - LOVE LETTERS! Send me a red heart with the character of your choice and I’ll try and convince them to send you a handwritten love letter. Fingers crossed that my charm still works!

Thank Mahal I still have that portal hidden in the back of my fridge...

🧡 - SLEEPOVER GAMES! Send me an orange heart and a sleepover game! FMK, Would you rather, Truth or Dare, ... You name it, we’ll play it!

💛 - GET TO KNOW ME BETTER! Send me a yellow heart and a question you always wanted to ask me! Now’s your chance!

💚 - MUTUALS LOVE FEST! Send me a green heart and I’ll give you a blog you absolutely need to follow! Give me the chance to promote my mutuals and let me show how amazing they are!

💙 - PROMPT DRABBLES! Every time I kill myself with these but I can’t not do this :) Send me a blue heart with a character of your choice (LOTR/Hobbit) and a number of this prompt list. Don’t forget to mention if you want it from the fluff, angst or general list!

💜 - FIC / OC TALK! Send me a purple heart and a question about one of my fics or OC’s Mira and Tullaina! You want to know why I wrote a certain fic, or what the reason behind it was, or how I think it will continue? Have a question about Tullaina or Mira? You can also ask for a line or two of a WIP I’m working on!

🖤 - UNPOPULAR OPINIONS! Send me a black heart with an unpopular opinion of yours and I’ll react to it. LOTR/Hobbit related of course

💞 - FIC TITLES! Send me two hearts and a random title you thought of, if you want you can send a character too, and I’ll let you know what fic I would write. And who knows... maybe I’ll write it for real?

If you want to participate, just send me the emoji through an ask with the required information!

To clarify: I don’t throw these sleepovers so I can brag about my number of followers! If it comes across this way, I’m really sorry but that is not my intention at all. I organize this because I want to give something back to you, as a thank you for your support, your likes, your reblogs, your asks, ...

#Guardianofrivendell 1k sleepover #The Hobbit #Lord of the Rings

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pink-peony-princess · 4 years

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A Little Piece of Art

The art gallery had always been one of Shawn's favourite places, he loved the colours, the textures, even the smell of the freshly painted canvases.

During his residency year of Emergency Medicine this love, had become something more, something sacred. His weekly visits to the local art galleries were the only chance he got to 'just be'. He found something so comforting in the way the colours melded together forming any number of unique patterns, the colours quietly, but boldly expressing the many emotions with fuelled the artist's work.

Maybe it was this that he connected with the most? Life as a medical resident was hectic, always ruled, by other people's, needs, wants, emotions, there never seemed to be time to address your own wants and needs. But time, at the art gallery, Shawn found, gave him an escape, a way to wonder off into a world of bright unchecked colour and vibrancy, away from the harsh unrelenting realities of people's all too often life-threatening and life-changing injuries, away from everything an everyone. Well everyone except one person that was.

He'd first met Auburn three years ago, it was a chance encounter, he wasn't meant to walk into that particular little gallery , and she wasn't meant to working that day, but as fate had it she was and he did.

They'd striked up a friendship fairly quickly, a mutual interest and respect for the works of art and the artist's behind them fuelled many hours of conversation. There had always been an unspoken, but undeniable chemistry between the two of them, but Shawn was busy with work and didn't want to drag someone else into that mess, and Auburn was just too shy to ask

When Shawn found out that Auburn was single, he was shocked. She was gorgeous, with long platinum blonde straight hair and the perfect figure, yet up close she had just the right amount of freckles scattered over the bridge of her nose, breaking the facade of perfection.

Auburn had been equally as confused when Shawn admitted that he too was single. She could understand the reasoning behind it, with a busy job and other commitments including a family that lived out of state, she couldn't however get over, but Shawn was gorgeous like some Greek God doctor-model who had just made his way from the runway and into her gallery. He was tall and lean, but muscular with tattoos scattering his hands and arms, deep brown eyes which seemed to reach your soul with the barest glace and a mop of perfectly kept brown curls- always tamed by hair product which Auburn longed to run her fingers through.

Two years and much flirting later and Shawn had finally gotten up the courage to ask her out l, to which she immediately agreed. He'd taken her to one of his favourite restaurants for dinner and they're talked for hours as if they'd known one another for a lifetime. Shawn told her about his hobbies, medicine was number one for which Auburn admired him for following his passions, closely followed by the guitar and ice hockey, not to mention family, he loved his family, Auburn found this to be an immediate turn-on as she too was close to her family although she couldn't get to see them as often as she liked l, they were across country and an art gallerist's wages certainly did not cover the cost of the ticket.

She found herself telling him all her most embarrassing stories from grade school when she's tripped and fallen into a muddy puddle bigger than she was in front of her entire class, and all about the time she'd been left to sit outside the movie theatre in 8th grade for two hours waiting for a date that would never show.

Shawn was furious at this, exclaiming that he would never do that to a girl, and anyone who would, was a coward, before downing the rest of his Tequila.

Admittedly by then they were both a little drunk and high on life and the presence of each other

When the evening ended Shawn walked Auburn home like the gentleman he was,turning to leave her and she made it to the doorstep, but something in him made him turn around causing him to crash into her body with the force of a truck as she too made her way to him. The two sharing a heated kiss before Auburn turned head down to hide the raging blush and wide smile that lit up her face and made her way inside.

From that moment the two had been inseperable, with Auburn moving into Shawn's condo- a far cry from the crusty old place she'd rented when she first got the city.

They'd done the whole meeting each other's families, both feeling completely at home and welcome, before a year later getting the happy news that they were expecting.

Auburn had been feeling off for over a week when Shawn finally convinced her to go to the doctors and get a blood drawn, a million things flying through his head as to what it might be.

The pregnancy news had completely shocked them both, but as they had sat there together staring down at the piece of paper stating the cause of all her sickness, irritability and hunger there was no denying that it was right.

They were over the moon, elated at the idea of being parents with Shawn referring to the baby as he laid his hands on her stomach as "Their happy little ancient!"

To say that Shawn was protective was an understatement a helicopter parent (to be) might be more apt Auburn thought as Shawn handed her what fleet like her tens of pills as she ate her breakfast before rushing from the room only half dressed to finish getting ready for work which now that he was finished residency (and at the top of his class, which Auburn loved to brag to her friends about) was a local hospital where he was working.

...

The day started normally, Auburn went off to the gallery to start her day l, daydreaming of seeing Shawn who'd been away on training for the last little bit.

Somewhere in this perfect daydream, everything came crashing down. The last thing Auburn was aware of was the screech of tyres and the immense, unstoppable feeling of pain.

...

"Dr Craigen,we need you in triage one." Brian's nurse Amy spoke as she came skidding into the room.

"Can it wait?" He asked looking up briefly from the hand of a young girl he was suturing after she was bitten by a dog.

"No, it can't." He could hear the tension in her voice, so he stood removing his gloves, and paging another doctor to take care of the girl before following her out.

"What is it? Who?" He asked as Amy all but ran through the corridor. His question was cut short as they reached the bay in question.

"Just stay still! For God sake, you don't have a choice." He couldn't see the patient's face from outside the door, but he could see that two nurses and an intern were currently trying to restrain her, against her will.

"What on earth do you think youre doing Doctor Tanaran?" Brian asked as he grabbed a pair of gloves and stepped into the room. The intern stepped back from the patient, turning to look at him.

"We need to get an I.V. in her, but she's not cooperating," he responded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Brian?" The person on the bed asked. He recognised the voice immediately and sure enough as he stepped around to the other side of the bed, there lay Auburn a close personal friend, someone who he considered to be like a sister, and the girlfriend of one of his best friends, Dr. Shawn Mendes.

She was almost unrecognisable, bloodied, and bruised, tears flooding her face and falling into the linen of the bed staining it a muddy brown as they mixed with the blood flowing from a nasty looking gash on her head, an oxygen mask laying forgotten beside her.

"Auburn?" he asked finally making eye contact, before looking up to find that she had not even been attached to any monitors yet.

"Everyone get your hands off the patient, now." he stared poignantly at the intern that who still had his hands on her.

"She just wouldn't cooperate." he grumbled as he stepped back.

Brian saw red at that, turning to glare before speaking.

"Have you thought about why the patient might be uncooperative? Have you even bothered to ask?" I questioned folding my arms across my chest.

He looked down at the floor, but didn't answer. "Didn't think so. So not only have you terrified an already distressed patient, but you've assaulted the girlfriend of Dr. Shawn Mendes, head of this ER."

His head snapped up at this, a look of shear panic on his face.

"Dr. Craigen I didn't think-"

"That's right," he interrupted. "The same way you haven't thought the three other times I've had to speak to you over the duration of your time here so far.

Get out of this room, and go and tell your resident that I don't want you on my service anymore. Oh and Tanaran," Brian called as the man made his way for the exit. "If I ever see or hear you do something like that ever again, I will personally make sure you're pulled from this program."

He sighed and turned around to see Auburn smiling softly.

"Thanks Bri" she spoke softly, very dazed,reaching her hand out for him to take. Somewhat restricted by the board and collar she had been placed on for spinal management.

"No problem hon. He's got an attitude that one.

So I'm just going to start slowly okay. I'm just going to hook you up to some monitors so that we can check you're heart rate, blood pressure and oxygen. Can I see the chart please? " he asked one of the nurses that was stood meekly in the corner.

"Yes Doctor," she responded before leaving and returning a minute later with the relevant information.

"Okay so it says here, that apart from that gash on your forehead and a fracture to your arm you have some fractured ribs, a suspected bruised spleen and a dislocated ankle as well as possible spinal injuries," he listed off as he took in the notes from the Emergency Services.

"They only got half way through checking her." the other nurse responded. Brian nodded, before placing the chart in the holder at the end of the bed, and returning to Auburn's side. He picked up her hand gently to check her pulse, watching as her eyes fluttered, drooping slightly.

"Auburn, I need you to try and stay awake for me," he spoke, tapping her check softly, moving to check her focal response with his pen light and finding that she had a fairly moderate concussion.

She let out a small groan, but managed to open her eyes, watching me tiredly.

"That's it," he praised. " smiling before grabbing his stethoscope from around his neck and resting it to her chest.

"Deep breathes," he asked quietly. She did as asked, but it was obvious from the way she was wincing every time she inhaled that she was in pain.

"It hurts and I want Shawn." she cried.

"I know you do hon. We'll get him here soon," he promised, paging one of his nurses to go and find him.

"How bad is your pain one to ten?' he asked, watching her closely.

"Eight " she answered.

"Okay I'm going to help ease some of that okay. " he spoke resting the I.V.tray that the previous doctor had set up next to the bed.

"Tell me what you remember? " he asked, trying to keep her talking.

"I was just crossing the street, and a car came out of nowhere. I don't know what happend. I was coming to see Shawn." she added.

"I'm sorry Auburn. " He really did feel sorry for her, not only as a doctor, but as a friend. She and Shawn had barely gotten to see one another the last few weeks, and now this.

"They didn't even stop to help me! " She cried, more tears trailing down her face. He felt so sorry for her, and sick at the thought of how Shawn might react. He just hoped Shawn was able to stay calm, for both of their sakes.

"Small scratch." he warned, inserting the line, and getting her started on some much needed fluids and pain relief. She flinched a little, but didn't pull away. "Okay, so I'm going to get Dave to come and help me with a spinal exam, and he should also be able to determine if we need x-rays for these breaks okay" he explained gently,trying not to scare her.

She looked worried at the mention of x-rays, but he just assumed it was due to her being clastrophobic, as she didn't say anymore on the subject.

He walked out of the room, quietly closing the door after me, and made my way to the nurses station where I found Dave helping a nurse. As an Orthopedic doctor he was often called down for consults, so it was common to find him here.

"Dave, do you mind helping me for a second mate?" he asked, before coming to stand next to him waiting as he finished his conversation.

"Yeah what is it?" he asked as Brian handed him Auburn's chart.

"Auburn?" He asked disbelief clear in his tone, eyebrows raised in confusion. "Auburn as in Shawn's Auburn.What happend?

"Hit and run." he answered. Causing Dave to wince in sympathy. "They didn't even stop!"

"Has anyone gotten a hold of Shawn?" He asked, shaking his head as they made their way to the door of Auburn's room.

"Yeah, but she's quite distressed obviously, so I'm just taking it really slowly. At least until Shawn gets here, unless something is absolutely vital," he told him. Dave nodded before opening the door, and greeting Auburn with a bright smile.

"Hi Auburn, Bri told me you got in a fight with a car?" He asked, causing her to smile faintly.

"What have we got so far?" he asked.

"Large laceration on the forehead and a fracture to the left arm, some fractured ribs, a suspected bruised spleen and a dislocated right ankle as well as possible spinal injuries, she is also complaining of chest pain." Brian added as he hummed at the growing list of ailments.

"Auburn are you having any trouble breathing? " he asked, she nodded letting him listen to her breathing as Brian had. The room was quiet for a few moments except for the beeping of the machines as he moved the stethoscope around her chest, before stepping back with a sigh.

"Slightly muffled left side," he agreed, glancing to the monitors, a look of concern on his face.

"It'll need to get an x-ray, and maybe an ultrasound." Brian nodded, adding,

"I'd also like to get some CTs of the head just to be sure there is no underlying bleeding. Is it okay if we give you some oxygen?" he asked wanting to up her saturation, especially given her breathing troubles.

She made a small jerk of the head in the affirmative, allowing him to place the mask that had lay beside her back on her face.

"Any other pain?" Dave asked lifting the blanket to assess the damage to her lower extremities, she took a few shaky breaths.

"Just my ankle."

" Okay,we just need to turn you and have a feel of your spine. Before we do, anything else, as we don't want to aggregate anything." Dave explained coming back to stand at the head of the bed. "All you need to tell me is if you feel anything sore."

She hummed in resonse, unable to nod due to the collar.

"On three, one,two,three. " Brian spoke before rolling her and holding her steady.

"Any tenderness?" Dave asked as he made his way down her spine, gently feeling for abnormalities.

"No." she answered innnediately.

"Wiggled your toes for me?" he asked as he went to stand by the end of the bed again. She did so, causing them both to breathe a sigh of relief.

Five minutes later and Dave l had decided that x- rays were necessary, due to the precarious nature of the fractures in her arm and ankle and that the fractured ribs did need further investigation, however that no spinal damage had been done, meaning she could be removed from the collar and brace.

"Where's Shawn?" She asked, again as they went about removing the neck brace. Brian was starting to wonder what was taking the nurse so long himself.

-Shawn-

I hadn't been able to focus all day, it was my first day back after being away at a two week trauma conference,and also the first time I would be able to see Auburn and the baby since she was meeting me at work. I sighed as I tried yet again to focus on the swirling numbers of the department's budget on the screen in front of me.

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a knock. "Dr. Mendes you're needed down in triage. Urgently." A nurse spoke,making me stand and follow her immediately.

-Third Person-

"He's on his way now hon, but we really should get you up to x-rays okay." Dave spoke, going to start moving the bed.

"Not not until Shawn is here," she begged, catching his hand and stopping him. Seconds later, and Shawn ran through the door, eyes wide as he took in the site of me.

"Auburn, baby,what happend?" he asked, leaning down and gently stroking her head, careful of the cut.

"They didn't stop!A car!" She cried a fresh batch of tears starting.

Shawn was pretty calm considering the situation, Auburn however was not, Brian could see from the monitor that her heart rate was spiking and he tipped his head to Shawn, indicating for him to do something.

"Try and slow your breathing honey," he encouraged softly as it spiked to about 130 when it had previously been sitting about 110. She managed to slow it a little, Shawn not saying anything, merely cupping her face gently and kissing her head.

"Shawn, " Daves spoke, "we really need to get her to x-ray. She has broken ribs, we need to determine how bad."

"No, no x-ray," she interrupted again.

"Sweetheart, you'll be fine, I promise. " he spoke, stroking her hand softly.

"It's not that." She answered, looking away.

"Then what?" Dave asked looking to Shawn.

"I'm pregnant," she whispered. "We found out two weeks ago. We wanted to keep it a surprise."

"Someone get Connor down here," Shawn ordered almost too calmly.

Dave and Brian shared a worried look, if she was pregnant, there was a possibility that something may have effected the baby.

"Page Connor." Dave mumbled to Brian.

"I've already done it ,he's on his way." Briam tried to reassure him, hoping that he would calm a little at the fact that the best ObGyn was going to be consulting.

"No what if something's wrong? " Auburnpanicked, catching on.

"Auburn you need the ultrasound," Shawn spoke firmly.

Her lip wobbled a little causing Shawn to soften his tone a little. "I'm sorry babe, I'm just worried about you. And you need the x-rays," he added.

"Auburn, you need to understand that while normally we wouldn't use x-ray, in this instance it's important, we won't have a healthy baby, unless it's mummy is healthy too yeah? " Dave explained gently.

"O-okay," she agreed reluctantly.

"I think we can however forgo the CT, given that you've been alert the whole time. " Brian spoke earning a smile from her.

"But you won't be allowed to sleep for the next few hours and even once you can we'll need to wake you every hour, on the hour," Dave warned.

Just as we were about to start moving up to radiology having unhooked the bed Connor arrived.

"Sorry I came down as fast as I could," he apologised "Hi Auburn," he smiled as he came over to the side of the bed.

"So you found out you were pregnant two weeks ago?" he asked. She nodded. "And everything has been normal so far? No bleeding?

"No." She answered, nervously, causing Shawn to squeeze her hand a little.

"Okay then, I'm just going to pull your gown up." he did so before reaching for the gel. That was housed next to the portable ultrasound machine that we always kept in the triage bays. They were smaller, and less powerful, but still useful in situations like this. "This will be a little cold," he spoke before placing the gel on her stomach. The room was silent, everyone waiting with baited breath, Auburn with her eyes shut. Connor hit a button on the machine and the room was filled with a rhythmic thumping.

"What's that?" her eyes snapping open to met his.

"Congratulations Auburn, that is your baby's heart beat. Junior seems very happy, very strong heart rate at 150 beats per minute." Connor smiled.

" Oh my God!" she cried reaching up to hug Shawn, before sharing a kiss.

"Judging by the size, bubby's just gone 12 weeks," Connor added, pointing out the measurements on the screen.

Everyone's faces were the same- all smiling from ear to ear.

"Do you want a copy of the scan?" Connor asked.

"Hell yeah!" Shawn agreed making Leah laugh. "This is going on the fridge."

Twenty minutes later, and we had all gone down to radiology, Shawn not having left her side. A permanent smile etched on his face.

"Just stay still for me Auburn." Dave asked,adjusting her leg to get the right image.

Once that was done, and it was determined that nothing needed surgery she was taken back up to a more private room, and Dave set about casting her.

"This will feel a little funny, but it won't hurt now." He reassured her as she became a little fidgety, giving her some laughing gas and upping her pain meds slightly.

It was then Brian's turn to stitch up the wounds on her head, something which should have been very straight forward, but she was terrified, having all but jumped (or gotten as far,which wasn't very) into Shawn's arms.

"It won't hurt Princess, Brian will numb you up good okay?" he spoke, sitting next to her, while Brian sat on a rolly chair by her head, Dave next to Shawn.

"Ready?"

She nodded.

"You're being so brave Princess," Shawn encouraged as she clung to his hand.

"Have you thought of any names for the baby?" Connor asked from where he sat in the corner working, having left briefly while they were at radiology and then returned, wanting to be here for support. Something which Shawn was grateful for.

...

An hour later and they were officially off shift, but had all taken up residency in Auburn's room, wanting to keep an eye on her, as she was a part of the family. They all sat quietly doing paper work, as she rested, fast asleep now that we have deemed it safe.

"How are you feeling Shawn?" Brian asked, looking up to find Shawn watching her.

"I don't know, I have never felt so many emotions in one day!" he laughed, before Auburn broke the silence with a small moan.

" I'm cold," she mumbled, "And sore," she added, visibly shivering.

"Here, budge up." Shane spoke, helping her to move over, before getting into the small bed again.

Connor got up to adjust the pain meds and check her vitals. However she didn't settle. "What's wrong Poppet?" Shawn asked. Sometimes the meds could make patients a little agitated.

"I want to have a bath, I feel gross, and you smell different. " she grumbled, her nose wrinkling. Shawn looked up at Connor and Brian,all laughing.

"How much of the stuff did you give her?

"I'm serious." she pouted, swotting Shawn's shoulder. "I don't like the smell of the scrubs. It doesn't smell like you."

"How 'bout this?" he asked bending down to reach for his bag, and grabbing a hoodie.

"Much better," she spoke, nuzzling her head into him.

"Now I'll help give you a pat down with a cloth if you want?" he offered. You can't really have a proper bath yet cause of all the wiring and your cast."

She nodded

"Just sit up slowly okay. You might feel a little dizzy." Brian warned, standing up to help too.

Connor went ahead to start the water for her while Dave came to help move the wiring as they supported her to hop to the bathroom. Eventually Shawn just picked her up,being extra careful of her ribs, holding her under her shoulders instead,and cradling her somewhat like an infant.

Half hour later, and Shawn had successful sponge bathed her, the rest of the group having gone back to their work while they waited.

"Get some rest Princess,you've got a little piece of art growing in there, you and Jellybean need it, he whispered as he placed her back in bed, rubbing her stomach softly.

"Love you," she whispered, already half asleep.

"Love you more," he replied kissing her head, they all shared a smile, because at that moment, all was right with the world.

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