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lizzie-is-here · 1 year

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like the dawn

part xv- the canyon

“to me you are the desert and the sea and everything secretive” - ingeborg bachmann

summary: you, bucky, and steve are in dire need of a vacation. and once you get the russian assassin out of your head, that’ll be a piece of cake

wordcount: 3.8k

warnings: violence, angst, cussing, flashbacks, fluff, cheesy shit, brief allusion to sexy time, the trio being domestic, me giving y’all some last fluff before i wreck your souls

taglist: @whelvedfeelingsstuff @sebsgirl71479 @rebloggingmyrecs @babyblublossom @local-mr-frog @thenyxsky @capsiclesdoll @moonlightreader649 @saranghaey @almosttoopizza @itsivymusic

a/n: lmao y’all i’m sorry again. finals have been on my ass so updates have been slow. ALSO i’m going to put this series on a month-long hiatus that will end after christmas, cause i wanna try and do a christmas mini-series so tell me if y’all like that idea. hope y’all enjoy 🫶🫶🫶

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Siberia, 1968.

You didn’t know what year it was. You didn’t know how long you’d been stuck in that facility.

Zola had just given the order to pull you from cryo. He’d just successfully wiped the other American asset, and he was sure it would work on you, too.

The telltale hissing sound emanated around the room.

Ice clung to your hair and wings, your muscles stiff and the sudden change in temperature threw you into consciousness after ten years asleep.

You screamed, a silent gasp of icy-cold air escaping your lungs. The pain seared through your body as a burning sensation covered your skin.

Your legs fell out from under you, and two guards grabbed your shoulders and started leading you through the building. You’d done this many times before. You knew where they were taking you.

You stopped fighting them a long time ago.

Today, however, there were more soldiers in the formidable room. They surrounded the upper railing, buzzing with excitement.

You spotted some senior officers amongst the crowd and furrowed your brow.

“What is this?” you demanded, voice weak and wet as the ice in your lungs slowly melted. It was never enough water to pose a threat, just cause pain.

You didn’t receive an answer. Instead, a tactical vest was shoved onto your torso, gloves were yanked on your hands, and a scientist took your pulse.

“Fucking hell, take it easy,” you grumbled. There really wasn’t a point in complaining about something so small. But you’d take what you could.

A man barked an order in Russian. The soldiers in the room suddenly retreated to the upper levels, and the scientists scampered away like mice.

“What the hell…” you whispered to yourself. Your wings were still thawing, but you could feel your powers returning to normal.

An intercom crackled, and Arnim Zola’s nasally voice echoed through the room.

“Agent (L/N), this is the culmination of my work,” he crowed. “When you were brought here so long ago-“

So long? You didn’t know how long it had been. The only indicator of the time that passed was the aging of the scientist, evident in his growing wrinkles.

“- We thought that your… combative tendencies would hinder your usefulness to HYDRA.”

“I’m more than thrilled to say that it has not.”

You assumed that this was another one of their gladiator-like trials. A way to test your powers and take out a traitorous agent all at once.

“Then why am I still calling you a wrinkly old-“

The door opened behind you.

You turned around, preparing to fight another scared agent sentenced to death by entering the room with you.

But you don’t see an agent.

“Bucky?”

Tears welled up in your eyes instantly. You’d been demanding to know something, anything about him for the whole time you’d been stuck in this hellhole.

The men in the room chuckle, quietly exchanging words in languages you couldn’t understand.

“I’ve- you’re alive,” you sobbed. Hurrying across the floor, you stretched out your arms in a hug.

But when you got close enough to touch your best friend, he grabbed your wrist with a painfully firm grip.

“Bucky?” you asked, still sniffling. It’s only then that you spotted the metal arm. In your excitement, you’d managed to completely miss it. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t respond. His eyes were cold, almost like he didn’t recognize you.

And then he threw your arm back and grabbed a knife.

You stumbled back, shaking as you realized what was happening. Whatever fucked-up project Zola had been orchestrating, he’d done it.

And now Bucky… wasn’t Bucky.

You flew upwards in a desperate attempt to avoid hurting him, but a grappling hook latched onto your vest and yanked you down.

You slammed into the concrete floor, crying harder as you tried to get away from your best friend.

“James, please, I don’t want to hurt you. I won’t,” you begged. He didn’t respond to the name, only continued marching towards you.

You stood, unsure of what to do. You couldn’t forgive yourself if you hurt him. But the only other option was to let him beat you. But “beating” you didn’t mean that you yielded.

These fights almost always ended in a casualty.

Maybe you could break through Zola’s experiment. You rushed towards Bucky, and he readied the knife.

You knocked it from his grip, kicking it away before you flipped him onto his back.

“James, please, you have to recognize me.”

He grunts before stilling. “Who’s James?” he asks.

No. This was worse than you’d thought. You thought that they’d made him forget you. But they’d taken all of his memories. Or, most of them, if he couldn’t remember his own name.

He took your moment of shock, and you gasped as a sharp pain entered your back.

You coughed, blinking rapidly.

“Jamie?” you asked. It was more of a whimper, really.

Bucky’s eyes rolled back, and when he blinked again, he finally reacted to you.

“(Y/N)? What’s-“

More doors opened, and soldiers flooded in. They were going to separate you.

You screamed out for him, clinging to him as he did the same. You were ripped away by dozens of hands, held back as they yanked him to his feet.

“Bucky!” you shouted. He made eye contact for a brief moment, and you signaled for him to look away.

The light that flashed through that room should’ve done more than blind the men. But instead, more came out to replace those screaming on the floor.

You struck down man after man, ruthless in your attacks. Until a soldier shouted from behind you.

He and two others had Bucky restrained with a gun to his head.

In broken English, he barked out, “I will shoot! Stand down!”

Bucky shook his head. “(Y/N).” Your breath wavered. “It’s okay. Get out of here.”

Shaking your head, you held up your hands, letting the light fade away.

“If I leave, it’s with you,” you whispered. “Until the end of the line.”

Before he could protest, he was dragged screaming and crying to the chair, and your stomach dropped.

They were going to make you watch him get wiped.

Bucky was locked into the seat, voice cracking as he protested. Even as his silver arm strained against the cuffs they locked down, he couldn’t escape.

It was when they shoved the headset on that you broke. You tried to run forward, ready to strike down more guards without remorse, but they grabbed you, five guards barely holding you back.

The machine buzzed to life, and Bucky’s screams got louder.

“James!” you yelled, struggling to escape confinement. You threw one guard off and fired a blast through his head, not flinching as you did the same to two others.

But when you took one down, more arrived. You couldn’t win.

Arnim started calling out words in Russian, and each one seemed to cause Bucky more pain. The rolling language caused him to twist and shake in the chair, until finally the headset was removed.

The man left behind was shivering despite dripping in sweat, blankly staring ahead. His eyes couldn’t seem to focus on anything, dropping with each second.

“What did you do to him?” you asked, voice quiet as you watched them lead him away.

“The same thing we’re about to do to you,” Zola said. “Put her in the chair.”

The knife was still lodged in your back, but a soldier ripped it out with a tug, causing you to cry out. They grabbed you while the wound was still healing, shoving you into the chair before locking you in place.

You tilted your chin up in defiance. Your lip quivered as the headset was lowered, but you stared the scientist down anyway.

At least, you stared him down until a near-lethal amount of electricity shot through you. You felt every muscle tense under the burning sensation, screams that you couldn’t hear leaving your lips.

Zola circled the chair, and started saying the words.

———————————————————————

“Свет [Light].” Ayo watches you carefully as she says the first word, waiting for your eyes to glaze and for you to turn into a killing machine. You’re waiting for it too.

“Небо [Sky],” she continues. You feel something in your head, like a tugging force in your brain.

But it worked on Bucky. It had to work on you.

“Прирост [growth], начало [dawn], восемнадцать [eighteen].”

You bite your tongue, determined to tough it out to the end. Ayo barrels on, even as your hands begin to shake and you see the fire in front of you grow brighter.

“Душа [Soul], девять [nine].”

You take a shaky inhale, quietly begging the universe to give you this. To give you your freedom back after seven decades.

“Испытующий [searching], один [one]...”

The force grows stronger, and you can feel yourself slipping. You’re fighting, fighting, fighting.

And then it’s like time stops.

You push the Angel out of your mind. She falls away far easier than you expect.

Like she understands.

“Ущелье [Ravine].”

You breathe in.

And out.

You open your eyes, almost hesitantly. It’s like you expect to wake up in a dream.

But your boys are right in front of you, and you’re still sitting in front of a fire in Wakanda.

“(Y/N)?” Steve hesitates. He doesn’t want to assume that, just because it worked on Bucky, it will work on you.

You’re so quiet, that they fear the worst. Ayo adjusts her grip on her spear.

Then, your eyes start watering, and you let out a soft chuckle.

“Did it-“ you begin. Ayo nods.

“You’re free as well, Agent.” Your hand flies to your mouth as you thank her.

Bucky and Steve are quick to wrap their arms around you, somewhere between laughing and crying as the meaning of the results finally sets in.

“We did it,” Bucky whispers to you. For a moment, the three of you forget about his arm, about your wings, about how lonely Steve’s been for weeks.

“We’re free.”

———————————————————————

“No, no, no. You need to take a right,” you say, stretching over the driver’s seat to point at the exit. Steve nods and takes it, before swatting Bucky’s hand away from the radio.

It was a month after becoming “free”.

Your nightmares have decreased, and the three of you have only become more, as Tony puts it, “disgustingly in love”. He’s not wrong. You really do love them.

Once you were fully cleared for release, you came to the unanimous decision to take a well-earned vacation.

Tony was kind enough to provide a high-tech yet low-profile minivan. It was bulletproof and enhanced with Stark tech, perfect for three famous super-soldiers who want to travel the country. Plus, it ran off of a mini arc reactor, so no ridiculous gas prices.

You’ve just left the compound, and are on the way up the East Coast.

“So, Acadia National Park first?” the brunet asks, pointing to the map. Even though all three of you have phones, the large sheets of paper are familiar.

The carefully drawn route starts in New York and ends in the place you’ve all wanted to go for decades. The Grand Canyon.

“Yeah, then we’ll just see where the route takes us,” Steve confirms. The highway in front of you is full of cars, moving so slowly that they might as well be still. The blond groans. “Damn bottlenecks.”

“70 years and you still don’t have any patience, Stevie.” You press an endearing kiss to the top of his head.

Tension leaves his shoulders, and the following kiss from Bucky practically melts him.

He loses himself in the way you and Bucky pepper kisses on his head and hand respectively, relaxing and zoning out. It’s bliss. He doesn’t have to worry about the government chasing you down, or planning the next mission, or being that perfect leader the world wants. He can enjoy this. Just him, Bucky, and you-

A loud honking sound scares the shit out of all of you. You whip around, glaring at the offending car behind you.

“Alright! I’m going,” Steve calls to no one in particular, sheepishly driving forward and out of the traffic jam.

After a few minutes, the road becomes much less crowded. You credit it to how fast people drive now, always in a rush to get to the next place.

It sounds old-fashioned, but after endless fighting and work, you’re more than happy to enjoy the time in between. The long, stretching highway that sprawls out in front of you seems more like an escape than an obstacle.

At least, for a little bit. Bucky shifts in the oddly plush seat, staring at the passing trees.

“Are we there yet?”

———————————————————————

Your first stop is in Maine. A picturesque National Park that lives up to its reputation.

Hiking comes easily. Super-soldier serum makes most things easy, to be honest.

But the lakes are gorgeous and the snow-capped peaks are equally so, so you’re more than content. The homey cabin you’ve rented also helps the situation.

It’s the end of day two on the trail when you hear a thud from behind you.

When you turn around, Steve’s on the ground, foot caught on a rock.

“Steve!” you laugh. Bucky helps him up, brushing the dust off of the blond. “Are you alright?”

He blushes furiously and drops his head on your shoulder to hide the redness. The brunet pats his back.

“Time to head back?” he asks. You wouldn’t mind turning in. It’s late. And the comfortable bed is sounding better by the second.

The three of you all agree and are back within the hour. The short return time may or may not be due to Bucky calling for a race back to the cabin, but you’ll never tell.

That night, when you’re wrapped around each other, warm and safe, you manage to shoo away the last of your worry about the trip. The way Steve’s hand never leaves your waist and Bucky mumbles to you in his sleep makes it more than worth it.

———————————————————————

Florida came next.

It was an easy decision to avoid major cities, but people still recognized you.

Drunken barhoppers ask for pictures or sometimes a fight, both of which you turn down. There’s always some random man yelling and running the beach at night.

The ocean makes up for the strange people, and the rolling waves and endless beaches make for a great getaway.

You’re currently underwater, watching as a school of impossibly tiny fish swim around you. Your wings scare them a bit, but the mesmerizing flash of their scales is far too entertaining to leave them be.

Thankfully, you don’t have to. Your lungs aren’t heaving for oxygen, even though you’ve been under for over a minute and a half, and the salt water doesn’t seem to bother your eyes.

A strong wave passes over you, and the following current throws you to the side. At the sudden movement, the fish dart away.

You come up for air, basking in the heat and the refreshing water all around you. Water has long soaked your feathers, but you can’t bring yourself to mind.

“I could stay forever, I think,” Steve says, swimming up next to you. “The weather is perfect.” You’re not surprised by his appreciation of the constant warmth. Out of all of you, he handles cold the worst.

Bucky nods, movements lazy. “Can’t disagree. Could jus’ go to sleep out here.”

“In the ocean?” you tease, watching as the waves lull him deeper into drowsiness.

He mumbles a yes, still half-floating atop the ocean. “Half-floating” because the weight of his metal arm ended up tilting the left side of his body into the water.

Steve smiles at the two of you. You both look… lighter. He feels so, too.

In one smooth motion, he scoops Bucky up in his arms and starts bridal-carrying him back to the shore. The brunet’s protests are met with shushing.

“I can’t have you falling asleep out there,” he says, kissing him on the forehead. You follow them, eager to dry off.

Later, after you eat dinner and desecrate the beach house’s kitchen with your post-dessert activities, the team calls.

They say you’re all glowing. The positive effects of the vacation have clearly been working.

Tony mentions that Thor -the actual Norse god of thunder, much to your surprise- stopped by Earth recently, with his brother in tow. Something about his father going missing.

Nat and Wanda say they miss you at training and wish you well. The call ends when Vision accidentally phases through their phone.

———————————————————————

A few days later, you’re driving through Texas when Steve very suddenly needs to piss very badly. You call Sam in a panic, unfamiliar with the area.

“Just go stop at a Buc-ee’s,” he says.

You pause, pointing at him. “Bucky?”

“No, Buc-ee’s.” He’s very adamant. But Bucky’s never lived in Texas?

“That’s what I said,” you insist, growing agitated.

From the driver’s seat, Steve groans. “No, love, it’s a gas station chain.”

“They named a gas station after me?” Bucky asks, eyes wide. From the facetime call, you can see Sam roll his eyes.

“No, you dumbass,” he chuckles. “Buc-ee’s. With a hyphen.”

“Where in ‘Bucky’ is there a fucking hyphen?!” you exclaim, causing Steve to jump. The situation only grows more chaotic from there, but you manage to spot the gas station, pulling in as the captain rushes out of the car.

You’re just glad you made it before Steve pissed himself.

———————————————————————

You pass through several more states. Frigid slopes up north and places so hot you swear that your feathers are melting off. Arizona is one of the latter, but it’s all worth it when you finally arrive at your final stop.

“Close your eyes, Buck,” Steve insists, trying to simultaneously cover his face and drive at the same time. You do the former for him, gently wrapping a hand over the brunet’s eyes.

“This seems a bit childish,” he chuckles. You shrug, although he can’t see it. The car comes to a stop at the parking lot, and you squeeze out and stretch your wings. Bucky, eyes now closed, is led out by Steve.

You make it up a small hill, and the view almost knocks the wind from your lungs.

Sure, you knew the Park was huge. But that knowledge didn’t quite translate into what lay before you.

“It’s gorgeous,” you whisper. Your boys nod.

You glance over to Bucky. It’s been his dream to come here, and he was the one who roped you two in on it. He’d ramble about traveling the world during class, ending with all of you in trouble for not paying attention. It never deterred him. He spent countless nights in the library, researching everywhere he wanted to go.

But that was before money got tight. That was before his dad left and he was working adults’ hours at 14 to make sure his ma and Rebecca wouldn’t have to struggle. That was before the war.

His eyes are teary as he surveys the view.

On your other side, Steve is similarly misty-eyed. But it’s not from the view.

This trip has taken away so much of his stress. You see it in how he holds himself, the way he’s finally sleeping in and doesn’t jump up at 5:35 sharp to go on a run and start his day. He’s been happily laying in bed with you two, slowly waking up and spending the early hours of your morning just talking and relaxing in each others’ arms.

And maybe your powers let you tune into his emotions better. Maybe.

It’s silent for a while. After a few minutes, your feet start to move.

Walking up closer to the railing, you peer over the edge. The drop is steep, but you’ve never been afraid of heights.

“Are you thinking-“ Steve begins. You nod.

“Is that a bad idea?” you ask. It’s definitely breaking some park rules, maybe even some local laws.

Bucky speaks up, breaking his stupor. “There’s no one around, doll.” He takes one of your hands. “Besides, we’re with the Captain America, you won’t get into trouble.” His teasing tone is followed by a wink to the blond.

With his help, you climb up onto the railing. The wind swirls around you, and you cast an unsure glance at your boys.

With a more serious nod from them, you let go.

The plummet is breathtaking. For as many times as you’ve dropped, this is different.

The orange and red rock rises and falls on cliffs and rivers, dry and warm in the low sun. You spread your wings and make a sharp turn around a craggy spire, trusting years of experience to guide you through the narrow paths.

Despite the trauma that is tied to your wings, you know they won’t fail you. You could navigate this canyon blindfolded.

As you’re circling a cliff, it clicks into place. An epiphany.

HYDRA never broke you.

No, if they broke you, you wouldn’t be here.

They hurt you. More than you could truly comprehend– even now. But you never broke. You fought until they took your mind from you, and then you fought silently until you won it back seventy years later.

It took that long. But you weren’t in those seventy years anymore. You were in… now.

Now, where your wings are soaring on warm drafts in the place you’d wanted to go since a geography class in 3rd grade and the loves of your life are waiting back on the hill.

So lost in your bliss, you narrowly avoid slamming into a small outcropping.

You slow to a stop, staring curiously at the light pink flowers that grow on the ledge.

It’s a dry area. They really shouldn’t be there. The lush green and soft hues are garishly out of place in the rust-colored rock.

But maybe you’re a bit out of place, too. By all odds, none of you should be alive. You and Bucky shouldn’t be free.

Yet here you are. And so are the flowers.

You recognize them now; phlox. They used to be used medically for body aches. Symbols of united souls.

You gently lift the small bunch of flowers out of the soil, cradling them as you fly back to the hill.

Bucky and Steve have watched you the whole time. Watching the way you coasted on thin air in effortless movements.

“Did you find something?” Steve asks, eyeing the flowers. You nod, brushing some dirt away from the roots.

Your boys offer feather-light kisses, and you brush the dirt from your shoes as you head back to the car. 2,400 miles from here to the compound is a long ways to go. And you’re going to enjoy every second.

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here2bbtstrash · 1 year

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your votes are in! part 2 survey results ✨

i asked, and y'all answered!!! 👀

as mentioned a few times before, the survey is not closed - i won't update it with new works moving forward, but i will keep an eye on it if anyone decides to run back and add votes! so please don't feel like it's too late, esp if you're new and still catching up on the porn (there is A LOT of porn. pls take your time and stay hydrated okay 😵‍💫)

but since it's been about a week, and new votes have slowed down, i thought it'd be fun to do a reveal of the top 10 results as things currently stand! sticking them below the cut - join me, won't you? 🍷

at #10, with 40 votes, we have... moving day! i was honestly surprised to see this one crack the top 10, but i should know better than to underestimate the yoongi hoes at this point. y'all love your delusional long-haired boyfie content, and who am i to deny you that??

at #9 (my lucky number 👀), with 42 votes, we have... it's sweet! shocked to see a fluff fic crack the top 10 honestly, but let's be real, the taehyung hoes are THIRSTY (anyone who follows jai already knows this 😂) - i promise i'll write more for y'all soon, and that the next one will actually feature smut!!!

at #8, with 43 votes, we have... park and ride! (and technically also its sequel, five minutes!) y'all really said give us a part three mother 😭 and jokes on you because i have an idea for a part three *and* a part four for these two. you'll never be free of them lmao!!

at #7, with 45 votes, we have... the spins! i'm happy to see this one here!! i love this couple and i've wanted to do a sequel for them for AGES, though i swear my idea for what i actually want to do changes every few months 😂 guess i gotta decide on one!!!

at #6, with 51 votes, we have... sunday! idk why i didn't expect this one to rank omg!! i don't feel like i write jin particularly well, and i especially thought that level of BDSM would be too much for some 🙈 but i have learned y'all are freaks who like crying during sex.... huh...... DULY NOTED 👀📝

halfway there, time for the big hitters! at #5, with 54 votes, we have... party on you! ahhhhh this one makes me happy to see 🥲 forever AMAZED and ECSTATIC that my most popular fic on this blog is a hoseok fic!!! i want to write a million billion more hobi things this year, and i will certainly see what i can do about circling back to these two cuties. at the very least there shall be more ass-eating in 2023!! 🎉🍑

at #4, with 58 votes, we have... deep end! joon hoes with TWO appearances on the board, we love to see it 👏 i loooove that y'all are down not only for period smut, but for some of the risks i took with using more flowery/poetic language in this one! i had so much fun trying something new, i'd love to revisit this couple and that writing style again!!

at #3, with 59 votes, we have... two in one! y'all. no. i'm shook. wig FLEW, wig in the STRATOSPHERE. say WHAT?!?!?! the first fic i ever posted on this blog, my most self-indulgent work (actually it might not be the Most lmfao but it's UP THERE) - i'm. NUMBER THREE?!?!??! okayokayokay 👀 i see y'all 👀 we're gonna have a verrrrry fun jihope month next month aren't we?!?! 😈

at #2, with 65 votes, we have... the shape of your body! oh man 🥺 i'm almost, like, emotional to see this one rank so high. this fic is so so personal and dear to me, and was a BIG leap for my writing in a lot of ways. the fact that the response has been so overwhelmingly positive, and that so many of y'all read all 24,000 words of that fic and said you want MORE. i can never put into words how much that means to me 🙇‍♀️ it's hard for me to think of a whole plot for a sequel - bc i wrote so damn much already 😂 but lemme see what i can do to at least cook up a drabble or two (if you have ideas, keep 'em in your back pocket for jihope month 👀)

and finally... at #1... with 70 votes... no one is surprised 😂 - it's drip! ahhhhh squirt god min yoongi. we meet again. i will never live this fic down lmfaoooo. and funny... doesn't he have a birthday coming up soon? i could've sworn... 👀💦💦💦

alright besties!!! i'd love to know your thoughts!!! any surprises? any you're happy to see?? anything that didn't make the list that you're about to get out the torches and pitchforks over??? i wanna hear it all, so drop me a comment or an ask and let me knoooow!! 🎤💜

(for me, it's babygirl missing out on the top 10 by two votes... but it's fine i'm fine... 😭)

also can i just say - look at y'all, getting ALL OF OT7 ON THE BOARD??? we fucking love to see it!!! equal opportunists on this blog! yaaaaaaas porn for everybody!!! 👏👏👏

#mposting #i honestly had so much fun with this 😂#and to anyone who added a sweet comment with their vote: thank u 🥺#i see them and scroll through them like.... daily #SO SO encouraging and kind of you all omg 💜

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askfallenroyalty · 2 years

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since the epilogue is close to ending, here's some sketches of wip designs

this is very rambly so i'll add ID descriptions later, sorry. (its 4am for me rn)

Frisk looks too older, they've only aged 2 years. both chara and asriel's designs here are SO beta and non refined. I think this was drawn even before Flowey came out -I wasn't sure how much of the trans aspect was going to come into play. I initially wanted the comic to end with Chara and Asriel reconciling after the Toriel-Asriel Airplane Call scene, but realized that there was too much unsaid between the two that needed to be hashed out and the epilogue had enough to cover already.

It was going to be a last minute "oh btw, since coming home Asriel is trans now, deal with it" but THANK GOD i didn't just sneak it in like that and explored the topic in the comic instead.

I forgot where this artwork was saved so I tried to draw it back from memory a few months later:

Chara's form was starting to come together -i assume this was around the time that Chara got their boss monster form in the comic itself. I like that Frisk has a Bi flag shirt here -I should of gone with that! The cheeks are more square but ultimately I thought age 15 wouldn't allow for that much of a change. so yeah, this is what an adult frisk would look instead.

oh! for funsis: did you know i was originally going to have the other fallen humans be skeletons instead of different monsters?

I thought it was too similar to insanelyadd's skeleton fallen kids. I actually am friends with Addy now, but then I had to message and be like "🥺is it ok if i also do this i swear i'm not copying" to which they were chill about. ultmatly i felt the designs were to Sans-like and didn't allow for much creativity. (also why tf does Hol have green instead of cyan colors what was wrong with my computer or me in 2018 lmao

I always wanted to show the kids age and progress throughout the comic. oh my god the hair is SO anime here ouch! anyway I wanted Chara to really lean into the "prim and proper" role they give themself. I thought it was so cool to have them cut their hair short in the back and have long hair in the front. (wait. wait, thats what Chara does now in the epilogue. huh.)

honestly??? i like "pissed off librarian" vibes this frisk has here. Also weird to see my Frisk without an afro!

sadly no beta adult asriel designs. no idea why i never drew any then.

Here's me figuring out how Chara should have a monster form -here's proto boss monster chara, as you can see i planned out the red hair aspect early on enough that this was before the timeskip happened.

um. anyway, pre-epilogue concept sketches. I think Raine had bird wings at this stage?? dang wild. Don't ask why Franky looks like a new yorker paper boy. Hol looks too much like a raggedy ann which is funny. Ursus... well, they probably won't look much different.

Hol eye concept art. done before they were revealed in the comic itself. ..........less said about this the better

And lastly, chara's boss monster design drawn right before they showed up. First one drawn <- left to right <- You can see I wanted Chara to have a hippy/punk design, but realized like, that jacket was going to be a binch to draw over and over. so i simplified it, and then was like, "ok this is TOO plain, i need SOME detail" and got very close to the final version.

alright since I know some people like color ref sheets, here

Continue Arc full cast. Was SUPER annoying to scroll thru to find the right character lmao

hol's prequel story color ref -actually changed the Berry's hair color last minute and never got around to updating the color sheet. was very annoying to hand-color pick from a previous page instead of using the ref :/ smh @/ me

Baker's Trouble.

OLDIE. From the Start Again? and Christmas sections of the tumblr version. God. Hol is so small. Asriel looks like a mess. Good lord.

Cancelled Christmas Arc. Chara was supposed to meet up with Asriel on a boat offshore of Monsterland for Christmas, but turns out Asriel was using Chara as publicity. Except... not fully. He did want to meet up with Chara, but they get the wrong impression that Asriel was only doing this for image's sake. It'd explore how the public views Chara as an idolized figure and how Frisk plays into that too.

Anyway the story was too ambitious and I should of started this on December 1st instead of days before Christmas. Plus, I wasn't happy with how I started it and the vibes were off. I might have this as a side story in the redraw but idk

Back to the Epilogue. I changed Asriel's dress just a little bit to improve the body shape silhouette (the dress is so plane its like she's wearing a towel! gah! I should have added SOME flair to that dress dang it!) anyway the dress is more... swooshy? swirly? and the teal ties up to the neck which works nicely with the heart locket and bow combo. Actually. Shit. Why didn't I just put the locket OVER the bow i'm so stupid that'd be so much easier-

If I could redo it, I'd make some changes...

now here's the cousin and sib groups here. Flowey is actually a little TOO big and not up to scale which is funny hehe (also more blocky looking??? weird) In the Redraw version I'm modifying Raine's dress to have a sash and other details, this thing is TOO plain. Franky's Mad Scientist like outfit could of just been an actual labcoat and ideally, the fact that Franky wasn't at the party could of foreshadowed that they knew it was going to be reloaded.

(...Which, actually, Chara's surprise was a surprise for me as well. That was a impulsive idea that came to me when we were getting very close to meeting with Chara again. Thus I couldn't foreshadow it. Redraw WILL have better foreshadowing U_U;)

ACTUALLY SCREW IT for the remainder of the epilogue, i made some changes I wanted to add detail and change some designs a tad -mainly to make the designs more distinct from each other and for story continuity. (AKA: Asriel and Papyrus are supposed to be the only "red scarf" wearers. Asriel's bowtie is knitted like a scarf. previously, hol and yun had red bows which made this match up less distinct. mew Mew's design was a little too similar to Sans' and Alphys and needed some changes.)

anyway i think thats all i can share now! thanks for reading and hope you guys keep following the redraw. I really really want a completed version of this story that's not missing holes. i want AFR to be complete and well, even with the epilogue ending, it won't be "done" for a long while. But thank you guys, it's been a journey!

If you hadn't guessed, I might be finishing the epilogue today (tomorrow for me, cause i'm going to bed in a few minutes). Depends on how much I manage to draw today, but yeah. Chara is going to the party, we'll get to say hi, close some loose ends and come to end. worst case scenario, i'll have to do a little comic to tie it off (like I did with the main storyline's ending) at a later date and this will be the end of the ask-able portion of the epilogue.

#redraw #meta #ooc #afr

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whetstonefires · 1 year

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I posted 11,002 times in 2022

That's 846 more posts than 2021!

177 posts created (2%)

10,825 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@beatrice-otter

@pavlovs-pigeon

@brawltogethernow

@vesperway

@audreycritter

I tagged 1,968 of my posts in 2022

#hoc est meum - 245 posts

#lmao - 84 posts

#mdzs - 75 posts

#ask - 61 posts

#laugh rule - 34 posts

#locked tomb - 29 posts

#batman - 25 posts

#cql - 22 posts

#blogblogging - 20 posts

#anonymous - 19 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#the thing is tim has definitely not gotten that much taller so. bernard shrank??? i want to write a fic about the diegetic supernatural inci

My Top Posts in 2022:

Oh protip for recently diagnosed glasses-wearers, that they don't necessarily tell you at any point in the acquisition process:

The 'polishing your glasses on your shirt' trope in fiction goes back to when glasses were actually made with glass, which is as you learn in any introductory geology course fairly abrasion-resistant.

Modern lenses, which are plastic--yeah yadda yadda hi-poly resin blah blah, it's plastic--are less robust, and if you go around rubbing smudges off on random fabrics without rinsing off any and all dust particles first you will micro-scratch them foggy faster than you'd like.

1,787 notes - Posted March 16, 2022

Me trying to determine what range of months it is reasonable to feature a pregnant goat in a farm scene: gotta go to the How To Breed Goats website.

How To Breed Goats has informed me that while continuing to breed your female goat past age 10 is likely to significantly shorten her life expectancy, so maybe don't do that, the males are going to die in what's middle age for a not-overbred female regardless.

because goats have a heat/rut cycle, and apparently going into rut is really bad for the health.

a/b/o fandom i hope someone has taken notes on this and done some hilarious angst about the short lifespan of the average alpha.

2,799 notes - Posted September 7, 2022

again, so many cql/mdzs modern AUs set in america and never one in which nie huaisang is like:

so i knew this dude in high school, right, who invented a new kind of nuke and so naturally the government recruited him to work in Defense before he even finished college but then he went rogue about an ethics issue with refugee camps and became the most famous terrorist in living memory and died in a police shootout

and that's the guy i, the Secretary of Education, want to help me kill the President.

3,477 notes - Posted April 18, 2022

i do not like this update that collapses the note count into a simpler number. it is bad. that was not a thing that needed simplifying. i promise we can all round in our heads.

not only do i despise imprecision in general (and resent that in order to know the exact note count on a post i would now have to do math on the breakdown screen) i liked watching the note count go up by one when i pushed a button; that was valuable enrichment for the monkey. fix it.

4,292 notes - Posted April 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I love when people say Alfred Pennyworth is the most sane or stable member of the batfamily because like.

This is a man who had two exciting careers before he even stopped being 'a young man,' and then stepped up as a butler because it was his estranged father's dying wish

and then when his employers' son was orphaned accepted custody, and just

has been basically cosplaying a butler as 80% of his visible personality for thirty to fifty years.

He fell sideways into not-exactly-parenting and was like, welp, guess this is my life now and just. Continued to not-parent his ward long after he was a grown man, enabled all his weirdness, helped him slightly-more-openly-parent a succession of kids while always maintaining his posture of being an employee.

Did not have any real personal life and also has no coworkers to speak of.

Could have changed any of this at any time and repeatedly chose to not do that.

This man is a lunatic. This man is a cornerstone of all subsequent lunacies.

It's extra funny when the batfam says it because it's perfectly believable they would think so because 1) their baseline is so warped and 2) that's what he wants them to think.

He may in fact personally believe that he's the Only Sane Man In This Belfry, although he is wrong, but he for sure knows he's not actually okay. He just feels it's his duty that none of his charges notice it. Because it's not their job to worry about or care for him. Only the other way around.

Yes I am saying all this in the present tense even though he's still dead, because time death and comics are all fake anyway.

4,462 notes - Posted June 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #hoc est meum #wow that many posts #look at me what are my choices #happy my top post is still batfam tho #HI EVERYONE

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sa2-astral · 4 months

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ANIMATION UPDATE: Currently, I have one small half part to do in this section of the animation, should be relatively quick and easy to do, then i have three fixes to do on older/other frames and this section of the animation is COMPLETE!! After that, we only have the chorus section and the ending section left, which i'd say are probably (hopefully) a bit shorter than the main section ive been working on for 6-8 months. I mean like, the main section small frame count only goes up to like 16 lmao. well, 24 if you count the intro part too. in comparison, the chorus section is only 4 and the ending section is also only 4-- so thats only 8 more parts, and if all goes well it should be pretty smooth sailing since ive storyboarded all the parts except for the final bit of the chorus section which idk if i'll storyboard. still might take a bit but we are SO CLOSE TO COMPLETION!!! After such a long time, finally... we're almost there >:) After this animation, i'm gonna be honest, i have like 3 or 4 different project ideas im interested in doing next, and i can only really do two at once at maximum i think, and overall its better to just do one at a time. Not sure which one I'll settle on doing, if i'll finally do the elquackity & qquackity animatic i planned ages ago, if i'll do an animation about novwh, an animation about OT, or an animation about jrwi riptide- we'll have to see where my brainrots at when i get this one done lol. consistently while planning what animation to do next i've still wanted to do the q and elq focused on next, alongside another but the plans i have for the novwh and jrwi riptide ones feel too detailed to do alongside the q and elq focused one since its a bigger more detailed one; so i might end up planning out a different animation to do instead, maybe doing an oc animation alongside it, OR finally doing my 2nd-- well, 3rd actually, ot animation that has been long awaited- except, its a new one and not the one i've left my ot enjoyers waiting for, haha... Though this is bound to change at any moment because i'm just like that, so, i guess we'll just have to see what happens and which ones i end up doing after this one :) thank you all so so much for your patience as i kept discontinuating animations or making very very slow progress on them aasjdkasdkaksd i'm going to seriously try not to discontinue anymore, but things may happen sometimes like they did with the last two... but again, thank you all for your patience :D Tldr: I'm nearly done with my current qsmp animation after many long months. I'm likely to do another qsmp animatic focused on quackity and elquackity next alongside another less big and detailed animation, potentially the long awaited ot animation i promised, but a new one since i discontinued the last. plans for which animation i make next though are bound to change so we'll see what happens!!

#astral chatting

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kuppiekay · 2 years

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damn i haven’t been back in so long, i’ve been 21 for two years

#lmao updated my age only to have to change it again in two months #fuck.

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nugnthopkns · 3 years

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felt the lightning under my skin

word count: 13.7k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, little bit of asshole joel, alcohol consumption, slight innuendo, moderate depiction of injury, needles

recommended listening: under the spell | springtime carnivore

a/n: i know figure skater/hockey player romances are terribly cliche but i couldn’t help myself. as an ex-skater hopefully i can make it a little less cringe. there’s probably an obscene amount of technical jargon in here and i sincerely apologize. the injury mentioned actually happened to me and let me tell you, it was not fun lmao. enjoy!

Joel swears he’s going to kill whoever’s in charge of renting out the practice facility.

Realistically, he knows it’s impossible. The rink can be rented by anyone when the Flyers aren’t using it and he typically thinks it’s a great way to promote ice sports in the community. Joel just wishes the facilities manager didn’t rent it out to figure skaters. They kick the shit out of the ice with their toe picks and leave the ice in terrible quality. It frustrates Joel because while community engagement is important, his career and the team take precedence.

No one else seems to be bothered by the recent decline in ice conditions. Most of his teammates are used to poor ice, growing up playing pond hockey and at rinks that also housed figure skating clubs. While Joel had those experiences as well, he clearly never developed the same nonchalance as everyone else. He complains in the dressing room after every practice until Kevin finally says something.

“Christ Beezer, relax. It’s only for another month or so until renovations at the other rink finish.”

Others chime in, telling him to not take it so seriously, with a couple of them defending the right of the other athletes to use the ice as they so please. The grief Joel catches is enough to shut him up, but he still stews privately over the fact figure skaters are destroying his happy place.

☼☼☼☼

You want nothing more than to return to your home rink. The Flyers Skate Zone has been nice, the staff are incredibly accommodating, but something feels off. You’re having a harder time landing jumps and skating clean programs. The change in routine is enough to knock you off your game, which is something you absolutely can’t have. You’re coming off a breakthrough season, finishing on the podium at nationals and landing a spot on your first world championships roster. People are expecting you to replicate your success and you want to do that and more.

US Figure Skating had taken a chance placing you on the national team for the current season. Though it was expected, they could have easily chosen the fourth place skater instead. She’s much younger than you, barely fifteen, and is yet to have a serious injury. At twenty you’re barely an adult, but this could be the last time you get an opportunity like this. The sport keeps getting younger and you’re going to get left behind if you don’t prove yourself. The grand prix circuit has been kind to you, allowing you to earn medals at some of the smaller competitions and hold your own against the big dogs in the majors like NHK Trophy.

☼☼☼☼

“Try the triple flip again,” Brenda, your coach, instructs. “You could be more solid on the landing.”

“It’s this fucking ice! I can do one at home that would get me a high GOE,” you complain.

She rolls her eyes and thinks about telling you off, but decides against it. No matter how many times she tells you it’s a mental block you need to get over, you find a way to blame the training facility. “Just give me five solid ones and we’ll call it quits.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but you peel away from the boards anyways. Some juniors are mingling in a corner and you warn them to watch out as you skate by gaining speed. The first attempt feels natural, and though you could have been a little stronger on the exit it’s a significant improvement from what you were doing earlier in the session. Jumps two and three also go well, but things go wrong on the fourth try. You catch a bad edge just before takeoff and aren’t able to correct your center of gravity while in the air. Two and a half rotations happen before you slam into the ground. The entire right side of your body feels like it’s been run over by a bus.

“Fuck!” you scream in frustration as you pick yourself up off the ice. Circling back to examine just how bad the edge was you notice your pick created much too large a hole, something you’d get points deducted for in competition. Brenda signals you over to her, and you hang your head as you skate over.

“You’re done,” she sighs. You can tell it pains her to see your progress plateau, but you’re doing everything you can to get out of this rut. Before you can protest, try to convince her to let you stay on, she’s speaking again. “Our ice time is up anyways. Go cool down and meet me in the conference room when you’re done.”

There’s nothing for you to do but sulk off the ice. The other skaters clear out of your way, not wanting to be on the receiving end of your anger. You direct it at the dressing room door, kicking it open so harshly it flies back on the hinges. It makes you feel a bit better but you’re still in a sour mood as you untie your skates. It’s frustrating not being able to perform at the level you know you can, even in practice. If you could just get out of this rink and back into the one you’re most comfortable at.

After a much longer stretching routine than normal, you pack up your bag and head upstairs for what will no doubt be one of those meetings where you sit silently and take the heat. You realize that your behaviour today was childish, but you couldn’t help but let your emotions overcome you. The next group is well into their ice time when you pass by, and you realize it’s the Flyers. Most of them don’t acknowledge you and keep running drills, but one who looks about your age is sending you daggers. You have no idea why.

The meeting goes much better than you thought it would. Brenda takes your anger in stride and lets you apologize for your outburst before shifting the conversation to altering your training plan. She suggests you take a few days off from the rink, working strictly off-ice, and you begrudgingly agree. There isn’t anything you can do or say to change her mind so you take the updated workout plans with a fake smile. She also tells you that your appointment with your sports psychologist has been moved up a couple of days, which you’re grateful for. Things then move to talking strategy and watching tape of competitors to see what to expect at this year’s nationals. The event is just over a month out, and you have the goal of landing on the podium once again, hopefully with the gold medal dangling around your neck.

A couple of hours pass with you holed up in the conference room, and it’s dark when you gather your stuff and head for home. The complex is deserted and you assume no one but the staff are still here. It turns out someone else was there, and they follow you out, their own gear bag slung over their shoulder. You don’t really pay them any mind, holding the door open out of habit, and fail to recognize the person as the boy who glared while you walked by hours prior. He notices you, however, and makes a point to voice his distaste.

“Hey!” he calls out, “Next time you eat shit don’t put such a big hole in the ice. Other people need it too.”

“Get fucked,” you yell back. You really don’t have the time or energy to be accosted by a hockey player. He continues to talk, but you don’t hear it because you slam your car door shut and drive off into the darkness.

☼☼☼☼

Joel doesn’t feel like he was in the wrong until Claude suggests he apologize a few days later. In his mind, he has every right to be upset about you damaging the ice because it directly affected him. The hole you caused couldn’t be fully repaired, and he tripped at a really key moment during the scrimmage. His bad day was your fault.

“You can’t blame a tough practice on her man,” Claude says as the two of them skate a few warm-up laps. “She didn’t mean to fall. Hell, she didn’t want to do it.”

“I get it, or whatever, but it’s still her fault. We’re professional athletes G, we need to be at the top of our games.”

Claude swats Joel upside the head. “So is she! Did you know that she’s favoured to win both the national and world championships? And that things look good for her to be on the Olympic team next year?”

Joel didn’t know, and guilt twinges his stomach. The next time he runs into you at the rink he’s going to apologize.

☼☼☼☼

You spend your time away from the rink conditioning and regaining focus. The first couple of days are tough, but then you settle into a routine you believe will ultimately make you a better athlete and competitor. Your cardio and weights are upped, and you’re anxious to see how the increase improves your performance. At the suggestion of your psychologist you take a few more days off than originally planned, but it’s the best thing you could have done. You return to the rink ready to nail the final few weeks of training before nationals.

Any other coach would have detested you for taking a week off this close to a major competition, but not Brenda. She understands that you needed time to refocus and that you’ll work harder than anyone else in the time until you leave for Salt Lake City. Your first practice is fantastic – every element is clean when isolated and within your programs. The timing is off a bit during your free skate on the first run-through but your jitters settle quickly and the next one is spot on. It feels good to be back in control of things.

“I think you’re over that mental block kid,” Brenda laughs when you stop along the boards to get some water. “You’re skating better here than at home.”

You can’t help but agree. “You know, I don’t hate it here as much as I used to. Think we should move here permanently?” The comment earns you a slightly aggressive hair ruffling, but it’s worth it. You spend the last hour of ice time alone, running through both of your programs in a mock competition setting.

It’s nearly silent in the complex when Joel sneaks through the doors. The only thing he can hear is the faint sounds of your music from inside the pad. He had been worried that you were never going to reappear at the rink but learned you were just taking a break when he cornered your coach in the parking lot. The middle-aged lady had told him when you’d be returning and Joel immediately put it in his calendar so he wouldn’t forget. Now, as he stands against the glass watching you, he’s nervous. What if you don’t accept his apology?

Joel knew you were a good skater. Well, he was pretty sure you were. He spent the short three-day road trip to Florida watching as many videos of you competing on YouTube as he could find. Though he’s murky on the specifics of what makes a good figure skater, Joel knows you put heart and soul into every performance and that your elements are strong technically. Your scores reflect that. Regardless, Joel is blown away at how talented you are when he watches you skate in person.

You’re looser than in the videos he’s seen, probably because there isn’t any pressure, but you don’t give it any less than your all. The music drives you forward in a way Joel’s never seen before – you’re an extension of it, and it of you. As you round a corner to pick up speed he holds his breath. From watching footage of this program from earlier in the season, he knows you’re about to attempt your hardest element. The quadruple salchow is one of the hardest jumps female skaters are attempting at the moment, according to his research, and it’s been your most inconsistent element this season. You’re completing the jump before Joel realizes you’ve taken off the ground, but you don’t fall. He exhales and watches the rest of the program in awe.

When the music stops and you take in your surroundings, you notice the applause. Thinking it’s just from Brenda, you shrug it off, but when you turn around she isn’t clapping. It’s coming from someone else – the boy who was a douchebag the last day before your break. The chances are he’s here to make another stupid comment, but Brenda insists you should talk to him. You wave him over to a section near the benches that dosen’t have glass so you can hear him better.

“What do you want?” you ask bluntly, taking a sip of water.

Joel’s taken aback by your abrasiveness but recovers quickly. He deserves it. “I, uh, wanted to apologize for what I said last week. That wasn’t cool. I was having a bad day and took out on you, I’m sorry,” he rambles. “And you’re like really good.”

“It wasn’t fucking cool,” you agree, “But we’re fine. I had just been kicked off the ice when you caught me, so I’m sorry too. For snapping.” There’s nothing more for either of you to say, and Brenda is calling your name, so you skate away from him. Over your shoulder you call out, “Thanks for the compliment unnamed Flyers player!”

“It’s Joel!” he responds. “Joel Farabee.”

☼☼☼☼

A sort of truce befalls you and Joel. More of your ice time overlaps, but neither you acknowledge each other more than the occasional nod in each other’s direction. It doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Preparing for nationals is the only that matters currently, and trying to navigate a possible friendship would be too much of a distraction. Joel is a little put off you don’t try to extend pleasantries, but when it’s explained to him that you’re entering a period that is similar to the lead-up to playoffs he understands.

However, he finds himself making up excuses to stay at the rink to watch you practice. He blows off dinner with Kevin and drinks with Morgan when you have the slot after practice, and when you skate before him he’s at the rink hours early. His schoolboy crush becomes the topic of locker room gossip. Though Joel swears up and down that he just likes to watch you skate, none of the guys believe him. They don’t go as far as to embarrass him in your presence, but Travis certainly tries. What Joel doesn’t know is that you’re developing the same sort of fascination with him. You find yourself turning on every Flyers game you can fit into your schedule, watching him intently, and keeping an eye on his stats.

“That boy sure has a lot of interest in you,” Brenda muses one day while you’re talking strategy on how to increase the points total on your short program.

“I don’t know why,” you sigh. “So I was thinking, if I raise my arms during the triple lutz it should give me at least three more points.”

She looks at you like you’ve gained two extra heads. “Are you insane? You’ve never raised your arms during a triple.”

Your smile turns into a wicked smirk. “It can’t be that hard.”

It’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. Though you’ve added the extra step to jumps in the past, it’s been on single and doubles to rack up points and GOE scores. Jumping has never been your strong suit, and trying to navigate the change in your centre of gravity is difficult. You spend the rest of your ice time popping, under-rotating, or slamming into the ground. A couple of juniors snicker at your failed attempts, but when you remind them they’re stuck on a double loop they stop laughing. It was a little mean, and you remember how hard it was to prove yourself as a junior, but you can’t find it in you to care. There’s no need to laugh at someone trying to improve their skating.

Bruises start to form on your sides from falling the exact same way so many times, and you trace them lightly through the thin material of your compression top. They’re going to look nasty in a few hours if you don’t ice them soon. A knock on the door stops your actions, and you invite the person on the other side in. To your surprise it’s Joel, and he’s holding an ice pack.

“I thought you might need one of these,” he says, extending it to you.

You thank him and hiss slightly when the cold hits your skin. There’s a beat of awkward silence before Joel speaks again. “Can I ask why you’re trying to change that jump?”

“You noticed that?” you know it isn’t a response to his question, but you’re shocked.

Joel smiles and nods. You explain how changing the position of your arms increases the difficulty of the jump and therefore raises the amount of points it can receive. “So you’re doing it to get more points?”

“Pretty much. It’s a gamble this close to competition, but I’m confident it’ll work out.”

“You’re afraid your program won’t gain enough points to put you in a good position for the free skate,” he notes, “Or you wouldn’t be doing this.”

Once again, you’re floored by Joel’s understanding of your sport. “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” you say as confidently as you can. “But maybe I just want the challenge.” If Joel notices the shake in your voice and the worried look in your eye he doesn’t say anything.

You go through your cool-down routine but are surprised Joel doesn’t leave. In fact, he stays at the rink until you’re finished and follows you to the parking lot. His car is parked a few spots over from you, so you have to raise your voice a little to get him to hear you. “Hey Joel,” you call, “Do you not have practice?”

“Day off,” he yells back. He’s grinning like an idiot, which prompts you to ask him why. “That’s the first time you’ve said my name.” The smile on his face doesn’t go away, and you try to settle the butterflies in your stomach as you drive home.

☼☼☼☼

Something shifts between you and Joel after that day. It’s subtle, but you’re well on your way to becoming friends. Phone numbers are exchanged, with him insisting his contact name be ‘King Beezer’, and the two of you chat regularly outside of the rink. He still watches as many training sessions as he can, and you start making appearances at his practices. It’s far more awkward for you but you push through it if for no other reason than wanting to be a good sport. Once Joel’s teammates catch wind of your budding friendship, they’re pestering you to go to a game. You politely decline each time, explaining that your training schedule is rather rigid and you can’t change it so close to nationals. The competition is just over a week out, and you’re catching a flight to Utah in three days.

Joel doesn’t let you know he’s a little upset you won’t shift your schedule for him. Instead, he brings you lunch on days where you’re at the rink for eight hours and does his individual workouts alongside you. The two of you fall into the easy routine of enjoying each other’s company and everyone else is beginning to take notice.

“So,” you say with a mouth full of the pita Joel brought you, “What are your plans for the All-Star break?”

Joel has been toying with an idea for a few weeks now, but he’s keeping it a secret. “I’m just gonna spend it at home with my family,” he shrugs.

“You’re fucking joking. Joel, you could be someplace warm enjoying the beach!”

“I don’t want to go to the beach,” Joel retorts.

You open your mouth to argue with him, because you’re of the opinion that everyone should love the beach, but you’re cut off by Brenda calling you to return to the ice. “This conversation isn’t over Beezer,” you say sternly, poking him in the chest to prove your point. He rolls his eyes.

“I’ve gotta be at Wells Fargo in an hour for a team meeting, so I can’t watch this session,” he tells you. You’re a little deflated but understand he can’t play hookie from his job to watch you do yours. Brenda is banging a skate guard on the boards to get your attention, so you wave goodbye and jog over to her. “Y/N,” Joel yells loud enough that you’ll hear him over the chatter on the ice, “Keep your core tight!”

Your coaching team is perplexed at the comment because it’s second nature to you at this point, but you think it’s sweet. Some of the other girls poke fun at your ‘boyfriend’ and it makes you irritable. Brenda tells them off and suggests they get back to work which makes you feel better. You keep Joel’s advice in the back of your mind for the rest of your practice, and land every jump almost flawlessly.

The day before you board your flight you have a terrible practice. Brenda chalks it up to nerves, but you that’s not it. You feel good about the competition and are confident it will go well. Something is off – you just can’t put a finger on it. Frustration eventually boils over and practice is called early. Everyone stays out of your way, letting you cool off, and you huff out a goodbye after promising to meet Brenda at the airport in the morning. Before you’re even out the door you’ve got your phone pressed to your ear, waiting for Joel to pick up. The Flyers got to start their break a day early due to a scheduling conflict and you hope he doesn’t fly home tonight.

“What’s up?” Joel says casually. Judging by the background noise he’s playing video games, no doubt some dumb first-person shooter game he seems to play constantly. The sound of his voice is enough to send you into tears and you can’t get out a reply. His tone changes instantly and the noise stops – the game paused and forgotten about. “Hey,” he soothes, “What’s wrong?”

“Practice was bad,” you choke out, “Like really bad. Joel, I don’t think I can do this.” Now across the parking lot and at your car, you throw your bag in the trunk and crumble into the driver’s seat.

“Of course you can. Want me to bring dinner over and we can do whatever?” You agree, not wanting to be alone, and hang up only after insisting you’re okay to drive the twenty minutes to your apartment.

Joel must have drove well above the speed limit because he pulls into the parking lot at the same time as you. His engine is turned off jarringly fast, and he’s popping your trunk to grab your bag before your gears have settled in park. Though you put up some rather weak protests about carrying your own stuff, Joel ignores them. When you insist on holding something he tosses you the bag of food he brought with him. Opening it up, you realize Joel had stopped at your favourite sushi restaurant even though he doesn’t like the food. A smile creeps onto your face, possibly the first one all day, and you lean into Joel slightly when he wraps an arm around your shoulder.

The two of you eat in silence, but it’s far from awkward. Joel’s waiting for you to open up, knows you will eventually, and you’re trying to find the words. However, they’re yet to appear, so you let Joel lead you to the couch and put on an episode of some crime show he’s currently watching.

“Thanks for coming over,” you say as the credits roll on the second episode.

Joel sends a smile your way, which you do your best to reciprocate. “Don’t worry about it. This is what friends do.”

Slowly, you open up about practice, venting about how you skated sloppily and couldn’t nail any element no matter how simple it was. You tell him about how tense your muscles are and how scared you are that your fifteen minutes of fame are over, that you’ll never get another chance to represent America on the world stage. Joel listens attentively, letting you speak for as long as you need. At some point you start crying again and he tucks you into his side. Your tears soak through his sweatshirt but he could care less. When you’ve laid all your emotions out on the table he speaks gently, dispelling your doubts and letting you know that you can do it and he believes in you. Joel’s words make it easier to believe in yourself.

The two of you spend the night on the couch, and you’re disheartened when your alarm goes off. You can’t stay in the little bubble Joel created for the two of you – the world and its responsibilities taking precedence over your fantasy. He drives you to the airport, rationalizing it by telling you it’ll be safer to keep your car at home. Realistically there isn’t a difference, but you thank him anyways. Parking is just one last thing you have to worry about. When you reach the airport entrance, Joel pulls into the idling lane and steps out of the car. You follow him, dragging your feet a bit because though you’re excited for nationals you don’t want to leave Joel. This will be the longest time the two of you have been apart since becoming friends.

“Make sure you don’t forget about me when you win and get all famous,” Joel jokes, handing you your suitcase.

You swat his shoulder playfully. “Like you’d let that happen.”

“Of course I wouldn’t. Come here.”

He takes you in his arms. You’ve hugged Joel a couple of times before, but they didn’t feel as serious as this. This time he’s holding you for a purpose and you’re gripping the back of his jacket tightly because you want him to let go. It’s longer than people who are just friends are meant to hug for, so you begrudgingly pull away. Besides, Brenda and some of your teammates are waiting.

“Have a good time at home,” you mumble.

Joel wraps a single arm around you for one more squeeze. “You have a good time,” he says seriously. “Remember to enjoy the moment. I’ll be watching on T.V.”

With your goodbyes said you wander into the airport. Joel says parked in his spot until he sees you embrace Brenda before driving off. The boarding process is painless, and once on the plane you take your seat beside a junior and put your headphones on. Downloaded to your Spotify is one of Joel’s hip-hop playlists, and though it’s the farthest thing from the music you enjoy you listen to it the whole flight.

☼☼☼☼

Utah’s nice, but you can’t help feeling like something’s missing – Joel’s missing. You’ve become so accustomed to him watching you train, clapping like an idiot every time you land a jump, that the silence is unnerving. Everyone notices the shift in your performance, and eventually Brenda crumbles and uses your phone to facetime him while you practice. It’s a decent enough substitute – Joel watches your pixelated figure zip around the ice and though he doesn’t always make comments, just know he’s with you in some capacity is enough to let your mind focus on the task at hand. You do the best you can at pushing away the butterflies that appear every time you think about how he’s giving up his freedom to make sure you succeed.

When you aren’t training or doing press you’re talking to Joel. You call him constantly, narrating what you see on walks around town to settle your nerves and eating at the same time to make it feel like you’re together. The only person to support you in Salt Lake City is Brenda, so talking to Joel frequently makes you feel far less alone. You wish he could be here with you, but understand he needs time to recharge and can’t just follow you around the country no matter how much you’d like him to.

“What time do you skate tomorrow?” Joel asks, mouth full of the pizza he’s enjoying. The features behind are different, so you assume he’s settled into his childhood home.

“Um, I think 11:35? I’m not entirely sure,” you respond. Due to the way the event is seeded you’re skating second last, which both settles your nerves and makes you more anxious. There isn’t the pressure of closing out the event, but there’s hope that you’ll score high enough to win the short program and skate last in the free skate.

Joel hums pensively. “I’ll check the website.” Conversation shifts away from skating, which you’re grateful for. It’s the last thing you currently want to think about. You listen with interest as Joel recounts stories of the pond hockey matches he’s played since getting home. The two of you are on the phone until nearly ten, when you have to say goodnight and head to bed. Tomorrow marks the start of the biggest week of your year.

You follow your pre-competition routine to the letter. At other events this season you’ve been more relaxed, but your professional skating career depends on your performance at nationals so you aren’t taking chances. Five-thirty comes faster than you thought it would, but you’re out of bed and eating your first breakfast quickly. A quick two mile run follows, and then you’re having a shower and grabbing a second breakfast to eat at the rink. You meet Brenda in the hotel lobby before ubering to the rink. A solid practice follows, and you manage to keep your imposter syndrome on a leash in the presence of the other skaters.

“It’s Joel,” Brenda says as she tosses you your phone.

“Hey,” you say, squeezing the device between your ear and shoulder. “I don’t have much time to talk. My warm up call is soon.”

Joel laughs and you find yourself cracking a smile at the sound. “I know. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re feeling.”

“Honestly? I can’t remember the last time I was this nervous for a competition.”

His response is cut off by a loud noise. “Where are you?” you ask.

“Just at home,” he says quickly. “My sister has some friends over and they’re being loud.”

The line is compelling enough that you don’t question how hastily it was delivered. Joel stays on the phone until you have to go, keeping your mind off the jittery feeling in your stomach. The TV cameras catch you talking but you give them a cheery wave and continue telling Joel about how good the soap at your hotel smells. You hang up when they call your flight to take to the ice for warmup and give your phone back to Brenda for safe keeping.

☼☼☼☼

Joel tries hard not to feel too out of place while he takes his seat. For someone who practically lives in arenas he feels like it’s his first time within fifty yards of one. Everyone around him is dressed nicely, and he’s acutely aware of the fact there is a neon orange pom-pom attached to the top of his hat.

As much as he feels like a baby deer trying to stand, Joel’s beyond excited to be here. It’s been a while since he’s gone somewhere that wasn’t hockey related and getting to support you while he does it is the best scenario ever. There are some potential looks of recognition from those around him, but thankfully no one approaches.

Skaters begin to take the ice and he scans vigilantly for you. You’re doing the best you can to stay warm, jacket zipped all the way up and gloves on your hands. Joel notices you seem to be the loosest of the girls below him but isn’t sure if that’s a good thing. You skate a few quick laps before warming up some jumps. Everything goes well, though he can tell you under-rotated a few of them and didn’t attempt the one quad in your program. The warm up is over as quickly as it began and you’re herded off the ice. Joel sinks a little further in his seat as gets ready to watch your competitors.

☼☼☼☼

There’s just over five minutes until you take to the ice. You keep your body moving, walking up and down the corridor, and blast your pre-competition playlist so loud you’ll probably have hearing damage when you’re older. Only one other girl in the hall with you but it feels too small. Brenda comes to grab you and the pair of you walk to the side of the boards. You don’t watch who’s currently skating, choosing instead to focus on adjusting your feet slightly in your skates.

“Go out there and put on a show,” Brenda says. “Fuck the judges.”

You laugh at her remark. “Okay Bren, when I lose points for flipping them off I’m blaming you.”

“Fine by me. I have a bone to pick with Mark Johnson anyways.”

The scores for the previous girl are being announced, so you peel your jacket from your frame and do a couple more laps. Right before your name is announced you press your forehead to Brenda’s. It’s a ritual you started back when you were barely as tall as the boards and you’ve done it every single competition since. You feel grounded looking in her eyes, and you break with a fist bump. It’s go time.

Every inch of your skin feels like it’s on fire. You didn’t come to play, and leave everything on the ice. The skate isn’t completely clean, you stumbled on the landing of a triple axel, but you’re happy with it. Despite your fears, both the triple lutz and quad salchow go smoothly. Audience engagement was at an all time high and you finished to deafening applause. Brenda wraps you in a tight hug when you step off the ice before leading you over to the kiss and cry. You chat idly with her and your choreographer, trying to catch your breath, while you wait for your score.

The announcer’s booming voice crackles over the PA as he reads the judges’ decision. “The scores for Y/N Y/L/N please.” You don’t pay attention to the individual numbers, just the final total. “For a total score of 74.83.”

It’s lower than you had hoped for. Not by much, just two or three points, but it could mean all the difference in tomorrow’s skate. Brenda pats your leg sympathetically and whispers in your, “It’s alright. You skated well.”

You head back to the dressing room to watch the final skater on the small T.V in the corner while you get undressed. She’s phenomenal, and you end the day falling to third place. Joel’s hip-hop playlist blasts through your headphones as you do your cool down routine. The average tempo is upbeat and helps to take your mind off the fact you’re not where you want to be. Just as you’re about to exit the room and find Brenda to talk strategy there’s a knock on the door.

“Yeah?” you say dejectedly, the word coming out as more of a sigh than you had intended.

The door is cracked open, and the head of your best friend peaks out from around it. “Hey there rockstar,” Joel says softly, stepping further into the room. Once you comprehend that he’s really here you’re sprinting in his direction, jumping into his embrace. Joel’s laugh reverberates in his chest, and you feel it as you settle further into him.

“Why are you here?” you whisper. Though you’re elated Joel is here, you’re confused as to why he would want to spend his break in Utah.

He lets you down gently and shrugs. “I had to see if you’d land the quad.” Joel’s smile matches yours as you shake your head.

“You’re fucking insane,” you quip, but there’s no malice in your voice.

Before you can pester Joel into answering all your questions you’re whisked away to a press conference. Talking to the media is something you don’t particularly enjoy, and it’s even more difficult to stay present when you know you could be spending time with your best friend. Most of the questions are directed towards the girls who placed higher than you which you’re thankful for. It’s easier for you to zone out, and you root through your mind of places around the city to take Joel.

“Y/N, how tough will it be for you to better your scores in tomorrow’s free skate?”

The question is one that you expected, luckily, and you’re able to recite the response you worked out with Brenda without really engaging with the reporter. “I mean I obviously didn’t aim to be in third place heading into tomorrow,” you joke, “But I’m fairly happy with where I ended up. The other girls had fantastic skates and deserve to be above me. My plan for tomorrow is to leave everything on the ice, skate cleanly, and be proud of myself regardless of what happens.”

Pens scribble furiously by those that don’t have recording devices to get your words down on paper. There’s some chatter, questions for the other girls, before a young reporter fresh out of journalism school is allowed to speak. He identifies himself as Theo Rateliff before jumping in. “Y/N,” he says, “How excited are you to get back to training on home ice when you get back to Jersey?”

“Um, I didn’t know the renovations were finished,” you stammer. “As far as I know, I’ll be at Flyers SkateZone until the end of the season.”

Theo shakes his head. “My partner was informed this morning that the rink will be good to go by the time you get back.”

You turn to the side to look at Brenda, who just shrugs. “Well, to be quite honest I’ll miss being in Voorhees. I had fun skating there and feel like the rink prepared me well for this competition.”

“Obviously not well enough,” Theo retorts, not missing a beat. “Your odds of winning dropped by seventy-seven percent.”

“Thank you for the reminder Theo,” you snap. “Are we done here?”

The press-coordinator shakes their head in confirmation, and you rip the microphone off your jacket before stomping off. People clear a path for you, not wanting to get caught in your storm. You run right to Joel who lets you direct him out of the arena and into the uber he called while you were wrapping up.

It’s a silent ride, Joel knowing you aren’t in the mood for light conversation. He lets you take a ridiculously long shower and orders take out that arrives just as you step out of the bathroom.

“Where are you staying?” you ask as you detangle your hair.

“Nowhere yet,” Joel says, “I got in early this morning and went straight to the rink.”

You think carefully about your next words before you speak. Your competition routines can be excessive and annoying, and you don’t want to inconvenience him. “You could just stay here. The room is massive and there’s more than enough space for both of us in the bed.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, voice taking a soft lilt. “I’d really like it if you stayed.”

Joel smiles wider than you’ve ever seen him do before. The two of you sit comfortably in bed, eating the burritos Joel got and going down a conspiracy theory youtube wormhole. He asks how you feel about him coming to watch your evening training session you have to leave for in twenty minutes. You tell him you’d be angry if he didn’t stand beside your coach and clap every time you landed a jump.

It’s chilly but the sun is shining bright so you decide to bundle up and walk to the rink. Joel pokes fun at you beanie and you swat him in the chest, shutting him up for the time being after his giggles subside. The view is gorgeous, mountains framing the setting sun. You squeeze Joel’s bicep to get his attention and relish the feeling of his muscle in your grip.

“Look! An owl!”

Sure enough, a barn owl is flying over top of you, in the middle of downtown Salt Lake City. “That’s my good luck charm. Means I’ll skate well tomorrow.”

Joel pokes your cheek lightly. “I thought I was your good luck charm,” he gasps.

You roll your eyes. “I guess you can be my secondary one.” Joel doesn’t seem to mind the fact your arms are still wrapped around his, so you stay that way until for the rest of the journey.

☼☼☼☼

The night goes according to plan. You skate well in practice and feel comfortable for tomorrow’s event. Joel executes his role perfectly, cheering when you do things well and squirting water at you to make you squeal in laughter when things get a little too serious. Once back at the hotel you collapse into bed almost immediately. You’re so exhausted you can’t even be bothered to climb under the covers, and wait until Joel pulls them back for himself to crawl in. There’s no awkwardness at sharing a bed with Joel, and you sigh contently as he pulls you into his side. Sleep comes easily then for the both of you.

You wake before both your alarm and Joel. It takes you a second to get your bearing and realize you’re pinned against his body, though you don’t mind. There’s worse places to be stuck. You lay curled into Joel for as long as you can, but eventually you have to shake him awake.

“Beezer,” you whisper, ruffling his hair, “You’ve gotta let me out.”

He groans something unintelligible but instead of heeding your words pulls you closer. “Joel come on,” you try again, “I’ve really gotta get up. Need to shower before I get to the rink.”

Joel listens this time, but only lets you go after squeezing you tight for a second. You go about your routine with him still passed out in bed and giggle at the way his hair curls around his ears when you pass by. As you’re leaving to get to your practice ice slot Joel wakes up, lumbering into the bathroom. He reappears a minute or two later to say goodbye.

“Will I see you after practice?” he asks, voice still gruff with sleep.

“Probably not,” you reply, leaning down to tie your shoes. “I won’t be coming back here until after everything is done.”

Joel nods and wraps you in a warm hug. “You’re going to do great,” he says as he pulls away. “I’ll be there, cheering so fucking loud.”

“I expect you to throw a teddy bear on the ice after I finish.”

The walk to the arena is lonely without Joel, but you push the thought out of your mind. You need to stay focused on putting on the skate of your life in a few hours and not on how lately you’ve been having more-than-friendly thoughts about your best friend. Brenda is there when you arrive, making conversation about what you did last night with Joel before explaining how you’re going to run your practice.

Your hour of semi-private ice passes in the blink of an eye. The other girls in your flight are just as tense as you, popping jumps and doing a lot of stroking to loosen up. A lot is riding on today’s event and you’d be lying if you weren’t feeling the pressure. When you get back to the dressing room and check your phone, you notice there’s a text from Joel.

Don’t want to disrupt your pre-comp routine, but I thought I’d share a playlist. It’s songs that remind me of you.

Included is a link to a spotify playlist entitled ‘my golden girl’. You open it with a smile, noticing that it starts with some of your favourite songs even though they aren’t the kind of thing Joel regularly listens to before turning into things you’ve never heard before.

Thanks <3, you respond, going to listen to it during my off-ice.

That’s exactly what you do. It filters through your headphones for hours as you stretch, do a quick interview for those watching on television, and get dressed. Though it’s a break from your typical routine, it’s welcome. Knowing Joel thought about you enough to make you a playlist and send it to you helps calm your nerves.

“Hey kiddo,” Brenda says as she walks to where you’ve taken up root on the floor. Your left hamstring is tight, and you’re trying desperately to fix it before you have to go on the ice. “Go out there and absolutely kill it. This is your best program, and I haven’t seen anyone skate better than what you can do today.”

“Gee thanks for the confidence booster Bren,” you chuckle before hoisting yourself onto the bench to tie your skates.

She doesn’t laugh. “I mean it Y/N. You can still win this thing.”

You’re left alone to finish getting ready and then join the other girls in the tunnel. No one talks, which you’re grateful for. When you were younger and coming up through the ranks the other competitors liked to gossip while they waited and it was your least favourite part of an entire competition. A camera man waits at the end of the walkway, filming your arrival to the ice pad, and you wave cheerily as you pass by. It can never hurt to endear yourself to those watching at home – maybe they’ll be nicer to you on the internet.

Joel is standing at the edge of the boards during your warmup, watching and cheering intently. In a moment of insane confidence you blow him a kiss as you skate past, and giggle hysterically when he catches it and holds it close to his chest. You’re called off the ice then and spend the time really getting into the zone.

It’s considered bad luck to watch the performances before your own, so you face the wall as you do jog lightly to keep your body temperature up and the adrenaline flowing. Much sooner than you’d like it’s your turn to take your guards and jacket off. Brenda holds your skating hands as she whispers last minute words of encouragement, and you stumble through the traditional handshake before presenting yourself to the crowd.

Once the music starts your brain checks out and instinct takes over. You learned when you were younger that your best skates happened when you just allowed yourself to feel, and you desperately need the skate of a lifetime. Going into the first jumping pass you can feel yourself tense up so you think about Joel’s smile while you guys sat by the lake last night. It works to loosen you up, and you spend the rest of the program thinking of your favourite moments with Joel. As you strike your final pose the music fades out and the roars of applause cascade in. You know you had a flawless performance, beaming as you fist pump the air in the same manner you chirp Joel for doing while he celebrates goals.

You bow to the crowd in all directions, waving and laughing as flowers and teddy bears fall onto the ice in front of you. An orange blob of fur catches your eye, and you skate to pick it up before one of the volunteers could put it in the bag that will join your garment bag in the dressing room. You know Joel is the one who threw the Gritty toy – no one else really knows of your affiliations with the team. As you sit in the kiss and cry awaiting your results, you examine the stuffed animal. Instead of the regular Gritty jersey Joel replaced it with his own, the number flashing vividly at you and pulling a smile from your nervous features.

Brenda keeps her hand clasped tightly in yours as the PA system crackles to life. “And the scores for Y/N Y/L/N are,” the announcer begins, and your knee begins bouncing rapidly. “The free skate score is 155.79, for a total score of 230.62.”

You jump up in amazement. Despite your slow start to the competition you managed to get a season’s best. You’re also five points ahead of the second place skater, guaranteeing you a place on the podium and depending on the final results, a spot at worlds. A volunteer ushers you out of the kiss and cry and you skip all the way down the tunnel. To get out some of the adrenaline you jog the corridor a few times before returning to Brenda.

“Come on,” she laughs, “Joel’s waiting at the edge of the public area. We can watch the final skate together.”

At the mention of Joel you’re jogging again, wanting to see him as fast as possible. “Beezer!” you shriek as you approach, launching into the elaborate handshake the two of you have perfected at this point.

“Hey golden girl,” he chuckles, returning your actions with just as much enthusiasm. “You looked fucking great out there. I see you got my gift.”

The Gritty doll is still in your hands but there’s no shame. Instead, you tuck it under your arm and rest your head against Joel’s shoulder to watch the final skater. The girl after you had fallen a number of times, dropping her total significantly and landing her in fifth place. Victory is so close you can almost taste it.

It’s the longest six minutes of your life. Watching her skate increases your anxiety – she’s good, has almost as great a skate as you, but she under-rotated a jump and rushed through her program so there was extra music at the end. The clock above your head rings throughout the silent corridor as everyone awaits the scores with baited breath. In under a minute you’ll know whether you’re returning to New Jersey with a gold or silver medal in your suitcase.

You don’t hear anything as they announce her score – just see the numbers flash of the small T.V screen and calculate that it’s not enough for her to beat you. After years of blood, sweat, and an immeasurable amount of tears you’ve crossed another goal off your list. Those around you are jumping and screaming, Brenda letting a few tears escape. All you can think about is Joel, who’s celebrating like he just scored the game winning goal in the Stanley Cup finals, and how much you love him.

Without thinking, you smash your lips against Joel’s. It’s adrenaline filled and mostly teeth until he wraps one hand around your waist and the places the other along your jaw. Then it becomes purposeful, both of you moving in tandem and never wanting it to stop. When Joel pulls away and rests his forehead against yours you can’t stop smiling. The kiss might have happened in the heat of the moment, but you know it’s the culmination of feelings building inside of you for months.

“You’re a national champion,” Joel says, pulling you flush against his chest in the biggest hug you’ve ever received.

“I’m your national champion,” you whisper.

He pulls back and grins, kissing you again. “You’re my national champion. My golden girl.”

The rest of your stay in Salt Lake City is a blur. You’re swept up in the numerous press events, galas, and enjoying your blossoming relationship with Joel. When you finally got back to the hotel after what seemed like hours of people complimenting your comeback, the two of you sat down and talked about the kiss and what you wanted to happen next. It was scary, being so vulnerable, but it needed to happen – you’re both adults and communication is important. So, you’re returning home with a gold medal and boyfriend, two things you’re ecstatic about.

☼☼☼☼

“J, it’s not straight,” you giggle. Joel’s trying, and failing miserably, to hang the shadow box with your nationals medal in it above your couch. It’s been almost a month since you returned home but you’ve been so busy that decorating the apartment you barely spend time in has been at the bottom of your to-do list.

He grunts out a response. “Fuck. Do I have to go left or right?”

“Left.” The picture shifts in the opposite direction. “The other left Joel!”

A few minutes later the decoration is sitting perfectly in place. Your child of a boyfriend insists on getting rewarded for his achievement, so the two of you bundle up and get dinner. It’s nothing fancy – just sandwiches from the deli down the street from your apartment, but spending time with him is nice. Joel��s been on a string of short road trips and you’ve been training anxiously, waiting for the organization to announce who they’re sending to the world championship.

“How’s practice been lately?” Joel asks, mouth full with a bite of his BLT. “I miss being able to watch you skate whenever I want.”

After returning from Utah you were shuttled immediately into the freshly renovated rink of your skating club. It’s a little farther into Jersey and certainly not as convenient for him to get to, especially now that the NHL season is picking up and the Flyers are clinging desperately to the final playoff spot. “It’s been interesting,” you shrug, “I’m skating well, and physically I feel great. There’s a mental block or something though because everything feels a little bit off.”

The smile that graces Joel’s face can only be described as shit-eating. “Duh, I’m not there.”

“Fuck off.” Though you try to make the words come out in a serious tone, there’s no malice in them.

Conversation flips to some ridiculous story Travis told at practice that morning, and you giggle as Joel recounts it with failing arms. You tell a few stories of your own, that leave him in stitches, and as you walk home hand in hand he asks you again to come to a game. With your schedule a little more flexible as you wait for a decision about the upcoming competition stint it will be much easier to see Joel play. You say yes with a shy smile and don’t miss the way the boy beside you blushes under the streetlights.

Joel stays over, and the next two nights after that. It’s nice, falling into a relationship with your best friend, because there’s no awkwardness. You know what kind of cereal to keep in your pantry and he knows you don’t eat meat on Mondays. Everything is easy. There are a fews in the road, as can be expected with any budding relationship, but for the most part your lives fit seamlessly together.

After some meticulous planning, you found a home game on the Flyers schedule that will coincide with yours. It’s a Friday night near the end of February, and it’s actually the last day US Figure Skating can announce their assignments for worlds. You figure watching your boyfriend is the perfect way to distract yourself from the decision, whether or not you make the team. Joel’s ecstatic about your attendance, wanting you to be immersed in as many aspects of his life as possible. The entire day he’s bouncing around your apartment, beyond ready for puck drop.

“It’s literally three in the afternoon,” you grumble as Joel corrals you into the hall to put your shoes on. “You never leave this early! Why do we have to do it today?” In an attempt to save gas and lower your carbon footprint you’re carpooling with Joel.

“Because being in this house is making you more anxious,” he points out. “I’ve caught you staring into the distance one too many times today. Besides, this way you can meet up with some of the other girls and relax before the game.”

Joel’s right, as he so often is. Your agent hasn’t called to let you know if you made the team or not, nor has US Figure Skating made an announcement on social media. So you’ve spent the entire day pacing back and forth around your living room and fretting that perhaps the best performance of your season wasn’t good enough. He twirls his car keys around his index finger in an attempt to speed you along and you roll your eyes at his impatience.

After ensuring your home is safely secured you hit the road. The drive into Philadelphia is easy, with little traffic, and you spend it laughing at Joel’s ridiculous freestyle raps. It doesn’t surprise you that the staff lot at the Wells Fargo Centre is sparsely populated – most of the guys don’t show up until around five, Joel included. However, a group of women are standing near the entrance. While this isn’t the first time you’ve met significant others of your boyfriend’s teammates, it’s the first time Joel won’t be around.

“It’ll be alright,” he whispers as the car settles into park. You offer a small smile that mustn't have been convincing because Joel lifts the hand that’s intertwined with his to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to the knuckles. The smile becomes genuine and you tease him the entire walk to the door.

Joel greets the other girls before setting his bag down on the concrete and wrapping you in a hug. “Have fun,” you say softly against his lips, landing a short kiss. He winks and opens the door, disappearing inside and leaving you in a fit of giggles.

There was no reason for you to be nervous – everyone is incredibly kind. You seem to be the youngest in the group, but the other girls pay no mind and treat you as one of their own. There’s a small amount of confusion when your phone chimes with a notification, a few glances of possible distaste, but as soon you explain you’re waiting on a very important call they understand. Dinner is wonderful, filled with sincere questions about your skating career and how you got together with Joel. By the time you get back to the arena for the game it feels as though you’ve been a part of the group for years.

You spend the game in the family and friends box, sipping a glass of wine and following Joel around the ice. Practice is early in the morning and you want to be productive, so you’re relaxed in your alcohol consumption compared to some of the others. One of the older girls, though you can’t remember what player is her significant other, recently got engaged and is celebrating with as many drinks as those around her will allow. It’s fun to experience a hockey game in this way, but you’re a little on edge. You haven’t anything about worlds assignments all day and the organization doesn’t typically leave the announcement to this late in the evening. There’s seven minutes left in the game when your phone rings. You quickly excuse yourself from the group and step into the hall.

“Hello?”

“Y/N,” the chipper voice of your agent Megan says, “How are you?”

A nervous laughter tumbles from your lips. “I think that depends on what you’re about to tell me.”

“I imagined you’d say something along those lines,” she responds. “You’ve always been quite witty.” Before you ask her to just get to the point of the phone call, Megan speaks. “I have some good news and some bad news for you. You’re going to the World Championships, but you aren’t leading the team like we hoped.”

It’s not as bad as she made it sound. A breath you didn’t know you were holding escapes, and you try your best to remain professional in the hallway of the arena. “Honestly,” you sigh, “I think that’s better. There’s going to be a lot less pressure for me to bring home three Olympic spots. Thanks for letting me know Meg.” She hangs up then, no doubt having to tell another girl she didn’t make the cut.

When you slip back through the door, you find all eyes on you. “What was that about?”

“I made the roster for worlds.”

Earth-shattering applause erupts from everyone in the room, and no one pays attention to what happens on the ice for the remainder of the game. The congratulations continue until you’re waiting outside the dressing room for Joel to exit. He had a good game, featuring two assists and a blocked shot, and smiles lazily when he sees you leaning against the brick wall.

“This is something I could get used to,” he chuckles, pulling you into him by the belt loops of your jeans. The two of you kiss for a moment, letting it stay chaste in fear of getting chirped by teammates.

“Well,” you sigh dramatically, drawing out the suspense of what you’re about to say, “You’re going to have to wait a bit longer for it to become a regular occurrence. My training schedule just increased exponentially.”

Joel sits on your words for a moment before it registers. “No fucking way!” he shouts, picking you up by the waist as the two you are a pairs team. “You got the spot?”

Having Joel be so excited about the accomplishment makes it seem that much more real. Tears well in your eyes and you shake your head up and down to signal he’s correct. Joel presses his lips to yours once again, this time not caring about any insults his friends could throw at him. The kiss makes you feel loved, fully and completely, and you hope you’re conveying the same amount of emotion he is.

“That’s my girl.”

☼☼☼☼

“Oh my fucking god,” you grumble, picking yourself off the ice for what feels like the hundredth time in the past five minutes. There’s two weeks until you leave for Milan and it looks like you’ve never skated before. Jumps are being under-rotated, spins aren’t being entered properly, and your footwork sequence is abysmal. Nothing about the way you’re performing would let a newcomer know you’re a world class athlete.

Brenda gives you a sympathetic smile. “Just try again kiddo.”

You do try again – fifteen more times to be exact. Each attempt at a triple axel getting farther and farther from what it should be. Before you get even more frustrated you abandon the element altogether, hoping to avoid a complete meltdown. No one questions it when you shift disciplines completely and move about the ice completing a simple foxtrot pattern. Ice dance has always been a great de-stresser for you, and after a few passes you feel your heart rate return to normal. At some point during your break Joel had entered the rink and is now standing beside your coach, making pleasant conversation. You smile as you skate towards them, ecstatic that the two most important parts of your life blend seamlessly.

“Farabee!” you shout when you get close enough for him to hear you. At the sound of your voice Joel smiles, turning to pick up your water bottle and toss it in your direction.

“I’m wounded babe,” he feigns pain as you take a drink, “I really thought that we were on at least a first name basis.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics and playfully squirt water at him. “I’ll call you whatever I want. What brings you this far into Jersey?”

“Thought I’d see if you wanted to grab lunch after you were done. We’ve got a late practice today,” he explains. “Whatever you want, eh? Does that mean I say whatever I want? Because I think you’re looking particularly good in those leggings.tum” You don’t miss the suggestive tone to his voice, but choose to ignore it.

Joel watches the rest of your practice from his spot at the boards and lays himself across the dressing room bench as you complete a quick cool down routine. You have a meeting with your massage therapist in the afternoon, so you follow Joel to the restaurant he chose. It’s a small vegan place that you sometimes stop at on your way home from the rink. They have the best burrito bowls you’ve ever tasted and since you’ve gotten together Joel has become rather fond of them as well.

The two of you sit outside on the curb. New Jersey is uncharacteristically warm for March and you want to enjoy the sunshine as much as possible. The rest of the day will be spent in dark rooms receiving physical therapy and trying to ease your tired muscles. There isn’t much conversation, but you’re more than content just to be with Joel. Life moves incredibly fast and your schedules don’t always line up nicely. It’s difficult to spend time with him, especially when you’re weeks out from a major competition, but small moments like this keep you from missing your boyfriend too much.

“Have I asked you to take me to the airport yet? I can’t remember,” you admit as you finish the last bite of your meal.

Joel laughs at your lapse in memory, knowing he gets the same way when high stakes games roll around. “No, but you would like me to?”

“Do you mind?” you ask, “That way I don’t have to leave my car at the airport for a week and a half. But if you can't, don't worry about it, I’ll grab an uber.”

“Babe, the uber will be like fifty bucks. I’ll take you. What time do you have to be there?”

You give him a much too detailed itinerary of your departure plans and listen to him talk about the drills they’re going to run at practice. Time passes much quicker than you would have liked, and soon you’re kissing him goodbye and watching him wave from your rearview mirror.

It’s almost a week later when you see Joel again, showing up at a Flyers practice for the first time since training moved back to your home rink. You’ve been instructed to have a rest day, the team wanting to push you too hard before taking off. The arena attendants know you well at this point, and chat with you as you sit on a bench away from the media. You know better than you alert them of your presence – some of them no doubt wanting a comment from you about worlds. Joel has no idea you’re even there until long after practice, when he sees you leaning casually against the driver’s side door of your car, conveniently parked next to his.

“Hey all-star,” you say as casually as possible, twirling your keys around your index finger.

He leans down to kiss you sweetly, and though you probably shouldn’t in a parking lot, you push your body closer to his in an attempt to deepen the kiss. Joel obliges you, tongue gently slipping into your mouth, staying there until you both hear the shouts of his teammates.

“Fuck off,” he yells at Kevin, who’s hollering so loud people can probably hear him all the way back in Philadelphia. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a day off,” you smile, and I thought I’d come see if I could hitch a ride to your place.” You had originally planned to attend the game in person, but a rough day of training yesterday had you too sore to do much other than lie on the couch.

“The chariot awaits m’lady,” he says in a terrible British accent, bowing for good measure as he opens the door. Your car will be fine in the parking lot overnight, so you slip in and enjoy the journey into the city.

Joel’s pre-game routine changes only slightly with you in his apartment – instead of napping alone, you curl into his chest and snore softly, lulling him into one of the most peaceful sleeps he’s ever had. You tie his tie for him and riffle his hair before kissing him good luck. Being alone in Joel’s apartment isn’t as strange as you thought it would be, and you familiarize yourself with his kitchen while you make dinner. The pre-game show plays quietly in the background, and when they mention how well Joel is playing you can’t help but smile.

It’s much more comfortable to watch the game in your boyfriend’s hoodie and pyjama pants on the couch than it would be to sit in the stiff arena seats. Time passes at a pretty leisurely pace, with nothing too exciting going on within the game, and sometime in the third period you fall asleep. The rest of the game and all the media appearances pass you by. Joel figures you must be sleeping when he doesn’t get a congratulatory text when Claude pulls off a buzzer beater to win. His suspensions are confirmed when he slips through his front door to see you drooling slightly on the throw pillow his mom bought him as a housewarming gift.

You don’t remember climbing into bed, but you wake up with Joel’s socked feet pressed against your calves. He stirs behind you and mummers something unintelligible.

“What was that sleepyhead?” you giggle, turning around to run a hand through his hair. It’s rather unruly at the moment and you find it adorable.

“Good morning,” he repeats.

“That’s what that was?”

“Leave me alone.”

The two of you lay in bed for a few more minutes before starting the day. You navigate around Joel flawlessly – like you’re there every morning. Breakfast is quick and you’re out the door before you have a chance to cherish the domesticity of it all. You have a pretty intense day of training and Joel has to be at the airport in two hours for a trip to Toronto. He drops you off in Voorhees, kissing you gently before making his way back into the city. You hate to see him go, wishing you could spend more time together before you head to worlds, but you know you’re both adults with real-world responsibilities.

For the first time in the final push you have a practice that is up to standard. Things click into place and you feel good. Really good. Each time you skate a program it’s clean, and the elements don’t feel weak when completed individually. Maybe you’ll actually be able to pull this off.

☼☼☼☼

Italy is beautiful, but you don’t get much time to enjoy it. A scheduling mishap has team USA leaving two days later than you were supposed to and now you’re all scrambling to find a groove. Every moment is being spent preparing for the competition – off ice training, multiple practices a day, press conferences. When you get a moment to spare you call Joel, but oftentimes he’s at practice or fulfilling other obligations. The time difference is brutal and souring your mood. You feel alone, and just wish Joel could be by your side like he was at nationals.

As soon as you step on the ice something feels wrong. You run through a mental checklist and assure that nothing is – your skates feel they way they should and you didn’t forget any gear. It must be nerves. The competition officially starts tomorrow and you’re eager to cheer on the pairs teams America has brought. You do your best to skate it out, and by the time you’re allowed to have the ice to yourself you can almost convince yourself everything will be fine.

The music starts and you snap into character. Your short program music is punchy and so are you – all sass and sharp angles as you navigate the opening step sequence. A lump forms in your throat as you set up the first first jumping pass, but you push it down. You’ve done a thousand triple lutz-triple toe-loop combinations and could execute it flawlessly in your sleep.

Everything happens so fast. One second you’re rotating through the air and the next you’re sprawled across the ice. Nothing feels off until you try to pick yourself up. When you can’t move your left leg you look to see what the issue is and find your kneecap where it most certainly should not be. It’s rotated nearly one hundred and eighty degrees, now residing in the back instead of the front.

“Help me!” you scream, mostly out of shock. There’s no pain which surprises you, but you know it definitely should hurt. Everyone around the ice surface is frozen in place, not knowing what happened or what to do, and you continue to sob helplessly.

Someone sprints to get the onsite emergency responders and Brenda runs to you as fast as her dress shoes will allow. “Don’t look at it honey,” she soothes. “It’s just going to make things worse.”

“It should hurt,” you croak out through the tears, “Why doesn’t it hurt?”

“You’ve got so much adrenaline pumping through your veins you can’t feel anything,” the EMT explains in flawless English. “Can we take your skates off?”

You nod, and the right skate comes off breezily. Brenda unlaces your left skate and the medical team works to pry the boot from your foot. A sharp pain shoots up your leg and you wail in agony. “Shh, it’s okay,” your coach coos, “The skate is going to stay on until we get to the hospital.”

The ride to the hospital feels like time is moving through sludge. The paramedics keep an eye on your blood pressure and do their best to keep you calm. Brenda is typing furiously on her phone, and you ask what she’s doing as the vehicle pulls into the ambulance bay.

“The ISU rep told me to keep him updated,” she explains. “And I’m trying to vote on which alternate is going to take your place.”

You knew that was going to happen, you couldn’t possibly skate, but it makes you unbelievably sad. All your hard work is going to amount to nothing. No one cares about national champions who don’t place at worlds, and the injury is going to sideline you in next year’s olympic race. The emergency room has a bed ready for you, and the doctor arrives as you’re being transferred into it.

“Miss Y/L/N, I’m Dr. Morelli. We’re going to put your patella back into place. It’s going to be incredibly painful, so we’re to sedate you. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” you say as strongly as you can, though it comes out feeble and hoarse.

A nurse inserts an IV into your arm and smiles at you. They have you count backwards from ten, and by the time you get to eight you’re asleep. There’s a brief moment of panic when you wake up as you forgot where you are. “You’re awake,” Brenda speaks softly from the bedside. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you admit. “It hurts so fucking bad.”

She gives you a sympathetic smile. “I know. They’re going to come get you for x-rays in a few minutes and then we’ll go back to the hotel.”

“Oh my god,” you gasp. “I’ve gotta call Joel. Bren, give me your phone.”

Laughter comes from the device’s speakers, and you realize she’s one step ahead of you.

“There’s my girl,” Joel whispers, eyes landing on yours as the phone lands in your hands. “Are you okay?”

The question makes you laugh. “You’re quite the comedian Mr. Farabee. Of course I’m not okay. My leg is currently being held together by a brace and my dreams are ruined.” You soften when you realize how upset Joel looks. “I’ll be fine J, I promise.”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“There’s nothing you could have done. It was a freak accident. You can pick me up from the airport.”

He agrees in a heartbeat and tells you about his day to distract you from the pain. You’ll have to ask the nurses for some pain meds before you leave. A nurse comes to take you to the radiology department, and you hang up after reassuring him for the hundredth time that he doesn’t need to fly to Italy to bring you home himself.

Brenda holds you as the adrenaline wears off and your legs twitches rapidly as a trauma response. She helps you navigate around the small room and makes sure you’re able to use the bathroom. Luckily none of her other skaters are competing, and she’s able to travel back to Philadelphia with you once the doctor clears you. It’s a rough flight – there’s a fair amount of turbulence and each bump makes your leg throb. You don’t get a wink of sleep and are grumpy by the time you touch down in Philly. Joel’s waiting at arrivals with a giant sign and a sweet smile. You wheel yourself over to him as quickly as possible, wanting nothing more than to collapse into his arms.

“Welcome home baby,” he whispers, leaning down to catch your lips in an airport appropriate kiss. The reason you’re home so early isn’t brought up which you're incredibly grateful for. Your untimely withdrawal is still a very sore spot.

“I wasn’t gone long,” you laugh, trying to poke fun at the situation before reality gets you too down.

“Long enough for me to miss you a tremendous amount.”

The three of you exit the airport, and Joel drops Brenda off at her house before taking you back to his place. Chuck and the rest of the management team were allowing him to miss a few games until you become more mobile and can’t exist on your own for a few hours. Joel’s bed is calling out to you, but he insists you’ll feel better after a shower and you know he’s right. Showering isn’t something you can do yourself, so Joel keeps your leg straight and elevated as you sit on the stool he bought while waiting for you to return. The grime of travelling is washed away and you feel lighter when you swing into bed, stubbornly refusing Joel’s help.

You convince him to let you watch the broadcast of the event you were supposed to be skating in. It’s probably not the best thing for your mental health, but you want to see how everyone does. Joel sits besides you, arm wrapped around your shoulder, and listens to you explain the rationale behind every element’s score. When your replacement takes the ice you go silent. It’s too much to see her skating in your place so you bury your face into Joel’s neck. There’s no jealousy like you thought there would be, just an infinite amount of sadness that you’re not able to be there.

“You’ll be able to get back there,” Joel reassures you when he feels a tear soak through his sweater.

“That’s not guaranteed,” you sniffle. “I might not ever skate again, let alone compete at any level.”

He shakes his head in disagreement, leading you to quirk a brow. “I know you. You’re going to do it. It won’t be easy, but you’re the most determined person I’ve ever met. People bounce back after major injuries all the time. I’ll be by your side the entire time, helping you through.”

“I love you,” you blurt out. The gravity of your words sinks in and you gasp. You haven’t said those words to each other yet, but they feel right.

“I love you too,” Joel smiles, kissing the tip of your nose. “Now pay attention to the TV, that girl you beat at Skate Canada is up next.”

☼☼☼☼

Recovery hasn’t been easy. There have been so many days where all you want to do is throw in the towel and cry, but Joel keeps you going. He insists you to your physical therapy exercises with him so you aren’t alone, and he comes to as many doctor’s appointments as he possibly can. After the Flyers get eliminated from the playoffs he doesn’t return home for the summer, choosing to stay in the Philly area with you. Having him there is a massive help, and you power through the pain.

The Flyers are hosting a family skate before training camp, and it will be your first time on skates in nearly six months. Your doctors have cleared it as long as you take it slow and basically let Joel pull you around the rink but you don’t care. It gives you hope that one day you’ll be back to full strength.

“Ready to do this thing?” Joel asks, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers.

You nod enthusiastically and let him pull you from the bench to the tunnel and down to the boards. Joel steps on the ice first, keeping his hands up in case you need them for support. A few of the significant others notice what’s happening and they erupt in applause once both your feet are planted on the surface. Joel joins them, his eyes watering when he sees how happy you are to be skating again.

“I do believe you promised me a few laps lover boy,” you wink.

“Yes ma’am,” Joel giggles as he mock salutes. He places his hands in yours and guides you gently, careful not to go too fast or get too close to other groups. The two of you giggle and stop to kiss frequently but no one says anything. You’ve worked incredibly hard to get here and they’re perfectly content letting you have your moment. Standing at centre ice you feel complete, and you know it’s all thanks to Joel.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @samsteel @kiedhara @tortito @boqvistsbabe @iwantahockeyhimbo @himbos-on-ice if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

#this right here is my baby #joel farabee imagine #joel farabee x reader #joel farabee fic #philadelphia flyers imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #cwrites

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kuronokiseki · 3 years

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A Few Years Had Passed, the BL Genre has Changed Alot... Yet I Still Love Romantica

But seriously, if you love something, is it necessary to have a reason? xD Can't I love something merely because I want to? Like, you don't need to have a reason to like fried chicken amirite?

Ahem. Anyway. Long post ahead.

First of all, it's merely because of a certain shot.

After seeing this for the first time, I was like "This is going to be one of my faves for sure. I'll enjoy every seconds of it. I believe this is a story that I will never forget. I'll constantly look forward to knowing the two and their story more and more."

Proud to say, this still rings true even now!

I have already listed the reasons why I love them so much, so I won't do it again in this post. But for this time, I'll explain why I still love them even after several years, even after I've transitioned from a teen to an adult which would affect my tastes over time, even after I've seen more BL works... even after knowing that there are things that other BLs managed to pull off better.

Flashbacks to the 2000s which I assume was the golden age of this series, where it was the only "watchable" BL anime back then and Sakurai Takahiro did a phenomenal job in portraying Misaki. Almost all of the fujos in internet would at least have heard of this series, and naturally it was massively beloved that 90% of the fujos would hold it as the no. 1 in their top BL list. However, since it is popular, of course there will be a fraction of people who strongly hate it because of a certain scene. Hence, citing it as the epitome of toxic BL lmao.

But of course, things will constantly change as time passed, just like how it's growing evident that BL is only consumed by cishet women is a huge myth, as queer men themselves have started to voice their love towards the genre as well. And it is also possible for ppl who aren't interested in men to enjoy BL, such as the straight guys, lesbians, and asexuals.

Likewise, BL itself is also evolving - newer ones are more aware about the idea of consent although some may still clueless of how healthy relationships work (relationship is more than just sex!). While this may sound subjective, technically there are more and more quality BL works to consume nowadays. In case you are bored with the slice-of-life BL, there is a plethora of fantasy and horror BL out there to choose, moreso when you're aware of webnovel sites like Syosetu. Isekai BL? They're out there.

And it isn't just from Japan, China and Korea are also capable of producing good BL as well. Even BL is getting praised for the more genuine M/M representation compared to how it's generally done in the West (coughcough performative diversity coughcough).

And it doesn't stop there. The series doesn't even need to have a BL label, the MC can still be gay, and the gay romance can still happen despite the plot not centering around that.

There should be no reason to think that it isn't possible for two men to fall for each other nowadays, the teases shouldn't amount to nothing, which alot of non-BLs were guilty of back then. Well, I'm talking abt series that would tease two male characters together but the creators will allow them to be anything but gay for each other. The only time you'd see them as canon gay is in doujins or fanfics.

Hence, you'd only get canon gay couples from series that have been labelled as BL. Luckily, it's no longer a reasonable thing to do in 2021 onwards.

So, thanks to this new golden era of BL or LGBTQA+ representation, since there are so many quality works to indulge yourself, the Junjou Romantica series is getting outdated. I believe alot of the new generation haven't even heard of it ahahaha. When compared to other BL, I'll admit that Junjou won't even fit to be the best or the worst. I'm not saying that Junjou is bad, but it's simply because there are so many BL works now compared to in 2000s. To the point I bet they would discover Junjou because of sheer luck.

Now, I'll get to the point. Why I still love Romantica through these years? Well, just because there are more and newer BLs, doesn't necessarily mean that it is better. While it's true that there are stuff that other BLs do better such as the plot, the characters, and the art, there's something that Romantica does better than others too, in my opinion. That is, Misaki and Akihiko's dynamic.

I love how Misaki and Akihiko are characters of their own whilst loving each other very much. In many BLs I've seen, the dynamic doesn't feel equal, where the MC is generally too busy to think about the ML most of the time (to those who are unfamiliar, it's referring to the main love interest), whereas the ML serves no other purpose to the story other than being the MC's love interest. In comparison, as the MC, Misaki's POV is always 90% USAGI-SAN USAGI-SAN USAGI-SAN in every chapter although he faces different problems every single time. As for Akihiko, yea he loves Misaki so much but his character arc isn't limited to that. As outdated as the series would be, this aspect of their relationship, will always be timeless to me.

I've grown to love them so much, that I'll get happy from merely seeing them. Yea I do understand that others will get disappointed of the slow and repetitive plot, the bad art, not to mention after waiting for months for the update, spending money to get it... but all I think when looking at new acts is "OMG it's my babies I miss them so much T-T".

So yea, that's it. I don't ask much, I just want to see Misaki and Akihiko, and nothing more.

#junjou romantica

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dallonm-archive · 3 years

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REVELATIONS, REVELATIONS | UPDATE #1

Hello y’all! I refuse to believe it’s been 3 and a half months since I last made an update post for this novel because time is not real :) whoops! This has actually been sat in my drafts for like a month though

A rundown of things that happened:

We have a new title! I already went into the meta and possible interpretations (it’s ~ambiguous~), so if you want you can read about that HERE.

I did 3 weeks of Nano and wrote 15k words! On the site I recorded 15053 but I think it was more 15.5k? I’ve edited the original doc now so idk but I’m v happy with that!

After that I took a break and a lot of Life Things happened re a certain pandemic that is taking :) all my motivation :) so I didn’t return to drafting until January. I also really struggled to progress with the story and decided the best thing was to revisit what I already had and work on that

It’s not that the original chapters weren’t working, I was just trying to understand the story for the first time and also Nano was such a hazy blur and I’m 99% sure November didn’t happen. I probably won’t revisit a section this intensely again until I’ve finished the draft but at this stage it really helped because the more I worked on it, the more I understood where it had to go next - I know the structure (for now), the basics for the middle and how the story ends :) hehe :) and I don’t think I’d had those revelations (aha) without revisiting this first part. I got to fall in love with the story all over again and I’m very happy with where it’s going!

This intro is already getting so long so I’m just going to jump straight into it because this update is LONG. I’m talking about all the chapters today even though not all of them are new, but since I’ve learnt a lot about them and this is officially update #1 post-nano, it makes sense to talk about all of them! I’m also going to do a new taglist because I see this as a new set of updates also I am awful at keeping up with taglists so! I’m just tagging friends who have already expressed interest + mutuals who I’m like 99% sure want to stay on so! please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

@kowlazovdi @isherwoodj @avi-burton-writing @pamsdrabbles @ryns-ramblings @kitblogsthings @svpphicwrites @aetherwrites @radiomacbeth @bijouxs @writerlywonders @haldimilks @alicewestwater @piyawrites @coffeeandcalligraphy @shaelinwrites

usual content warnings for religious trauma and cult discussion, specific CWs will come before excerpts!

So I’m currently working with four parts, and I’ve extended the timeline from one year to four years. This suits the story much better BUT pretty much everything here was written before that decision and I do not have the energy to restructure all of it right now :) Each part is split into two sections, one for each POV. So four parts, 8 sections, Felix and Dorothy get four sections each. I let the structure grow with the story but this one is working very well!

Also I started setting my pages to light green and it was LIFE CHANGING. Much kinder on the eyes and just looks so nice?? Calming?? This post is your sign to set your page colour to light green like LOOK

So we have a prologue now!! The story made a lot more sense once I added this because originally the information we learn was just shoehorned into Chapter 1 in a flashback when really we needed to know this information going into it. That being said I struggled with this for a bit just because to justify a prologue I need that information to be conveyed in a way that is completely unique to the rest of the narrative so I didn’t want to just write this as a flashback. I ended up writing it in 2nd person and it came out in a way where it’s not clear which twins POV it is? Like it’s more of a fusion of both of them where neither of them have their own individual identity beyond “the twins” yet. I can’t tell if this is my funky POV peak or a clarity nightmare but I like it! I want it to only be ~500 words so we can take the risk.

In this they’re fourteen and they do a “blood pact” as a way to symbolically cut themselves from their family (aka: their father) whilst they’re still tethered to it. I really love it because not only is it exactly what these slightly unhinged-but-havent-tapped-into-it-yet, co-dependent-and-dont-realise-it kids would do but it immediately brings up the question of family and what family actually is. I’ve also realised a huge idea in this story is the idea of the tangible and for them, the concept of family and blood isn’t tangible so they struggle to recognise its significance (not that it. has any for them in the first place.) but their relationship, seeing each other bleed and pressing the cuts together is. The writing itself is kinda wonky because of the whole funky clarity nightmare POV but here’s a little taste of the ending:

cw: blood

You’ll slink back into your family room to clean and plaster each other’s hands and you’ll ask yourselves: which bloodstains came from who? Who bled the most and who stopped first? Who will come up with the story for the cuts on your palms and who will dispose the bloodied towel? Who is Dorothy without Felix and who is Felix without Dorothy?

Shiny new first chapter! Originally this was in Dorothy’s POV but now it’s switched to Felix and instead of just showing their reunion (which turns out is....very anticlimactic and not appropriate for an opening lol??) we actually explore Felix’s thoughts an actions after he decides to escape the cult, which was a very impulsive decision and spans about a day and a half. This one is definitely gonna take a few drafts to get right because it’s such a delicate but intense event to write and I’m content with the fact that it’s not There Yet but the prose is! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and it really helped me get back into the swing of loving this story. There’s something very delicate about it but also very troubling under the surface. The opening gave me a lot of trouble, but the first line hits!

The day Felix decides to leave the sun glows the same, and the pine trees breathe the same, and the chapel cross stabs the sky the same.

Ironically, a good chunk of the chapter happens outside the cult, as Felix decides to spend his final day taking Lola - a woman his age who is literally the only person he likes lmao - to one of the nearby towns. Whilst the main function of the chapter is to introduce the cult itself, it’s also to show how normalised leaving actually is - it’s just every time he’s left has been temporary, and every time he has left, he still feel separated from this “outside world”. They go to a candy store and a thrift store - where Felix lies about his mom (who he hasn’t seen in 20 years) being in hospital so he can use a phone :) Lola is a new character so I don’t have much to say on her, but all I can say is they are wlw and mlm solidarity but also she knows how to read him

“I don’t know why Dotty and I loved this place so much - we always got toothaches.”

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

“These apple ones are nice, but I think the lime is my favourite. Do you think the apple or the lime is nicer?”

“I think you’re leaving, but I also think you’re scared, so you’re pretending that I’m going to leave with you and that’s why you wanted to go to town. You chose the candy shop because this is where you went the first time you left, but this time you’re not coming back. Does that scare you, Fel?”

And here is my favourite paragraph in the whole chapter because <3 what the fuck <3 and if pine trees are a key Felix symbol no they aren’t 👁️ yes they are

cw: falling out a window? pushing yourself out a window? description of bones breaking

The day Felix decides the leave, when the clouds bleed amber, he pushes the scratched mahogany dresser so it lines with the windowsill, lies on top and hangs his head out. It’s never comfortable, but it’s always peaceful: sometimes cars murmur on nearby backroads, sometimes a wind chime flutters, sometimes brush rabbits rustle in shrubbery and they all breathe the same oxygen as him. He closes his eyes, inhales the pine air, and plays God: pushes himself further out, an inch at a time, until his shoulders cross the line and he wonders what bones would break if he fell. Would he break both arms or one, both legs or one? Would he break his spine? Which vertebra would crack, and how many? Would he feel them all in one big strike, or all the individual bones burst like popping candy? Evening breeze whispers against his face and he could do it right now, leap out the window and if he didn’t break his legs or back he could run to the bushes, to the pine trees, to the road, the town over East or West, the county line.

If Felix hit the ground, would it be because of a freak fall, or because he pushed himself out?

We have to laugh because I’m pretty sure I said in my Nano update that this chapter was the strongest so far besides one scene but when I looked back that scene <3 took up 80% of the fucking chapter <3 So I just said fuck it I’ll rewrite the whole thing for fun!!!! And I love it!!! It’s so jarring compared to Chapter One and that’s the point!! Everything is so over saturated and originally that was just to convey the absolute shock Felix gets from the Major Impulsive Life Decision He Just Made, but now I think it’s intentional on his part and it goes back to the idea of the tangible: whilst he didn’t grow up totally isolated this is still a new life for him, and he has nothing to latch onto, so he looks to his surroundings and hyper-focuses and latches onto it because it’s something that’s now tangible and accessible to him so he sees it in this very bright, romanticised way (the romanticisation of San Francisco is very amusing to me but it’s also very relevant). But even with that he still distances himself from this environment still - the same way he did whilst living in the cult. He has no idea how he wants to exist in this world and he doesn’t even know how to exist yet.

And so it became clockwork: eyes burst open at two, three, four in morning, doesn’t bother trying to fall back to sleep. Lurk into the kitchen, make a coffee or water or whiskey. Sit under the fritzing lightbulb with no shade, think about everything and nothing and everything and nothing. Or go for a smoke, inhale the vapours until it hurts his chest, breathe in the cool air until it hurts his teeth, wander around the block until it hurts his feet. Sneak back into a room that doesn’t belong to him in an apartment that doesn’t belong to him in a city that doesn’t belong to him. Count the bumps in the popcorn ceiling until footsteps sneak down the hall – Dorothy leaving a room that doesn’t belong to her. Join his sister back at the kitchen, she complains that they need to replace the lightbulb. Over pulpy orange juice and scrambled eggs on toast, she retells her dream and lists the possible meanings and he lists his plans for that day on how to immerse in the outside world, familiarise himself with the city until it belongs to him. Travel by trolley for the first time, eat seafood at the waterfront for the first time. Bump into a cherry-headed conure parrot by chance. Climb Twin Peaks and gaze at the new view of home. Trace the outline of translucent mountains in the air and pretend you’ll ever hike them; trace the outline of high rises in the air and pretend you know the people in them. He asks Dorothy when he’ll stop feeling like a tourist – she has no answer for him.

(context: Dorothy’s roommate, Jolie, is out of town at this point, so Dorothy tells Felix to take her room whilst she takes Jolie’s and they’ll sort it out later. Dorothy has no problem sleeping in Jolie’s bed because her and Jolie are Very Good Friends)

I also realised that, in the nicest way possible to November me, that this chapter was so damn boring because it’s very dialogue heavy but in every dialogue moment they are literally just 🧍 doing nothing. So I wrote a scene as a half-joke of Just Met Like Three Hours Ago Beau and Felix going to the arcade and it saved this chapter. It is SO fun but it also comes straight after this very emotionally intense moment and it’s really interesting to see that reach its zenith and then just. fizzle out but linger in the background? I love this scene but I also can’t take it too seriously because they play Frogger and @aetherwrites joked that the game’s a metaphor for Felix leaving the cult and I love her and hate her because she is so right I can picture the LIT1000 seminar where that analysis would be made unironically and it’d be ME who makes it and I am so close to just running with that for real. Also these two aren’t love at first sight but the chemistry is so loud like did you two meet today or have you been married for eight years and own five dogs together what’s the truth? Anyway here’s Felix murdering Beau on sight

“You know, you could’ve warned me that you’d be that good,” Beau says.

“It’s not that difficult, you could’ve warned me that you’d be that bad.”

Beau leans across to shuffle through cassette tapes in the glove compartment. “I’m not, you just got lucky. I let you win.”

“But it’s not even competitive. You just died seven times in a row.”

I’m a little unsure of the pacing for this chapter now because its effectiveness lies in the fact it takes place a week after the previous, and my job with this section post-draft is to stretch it out longer since it only spans three weeks. I’m hoping I can make it work where there’s little time between Chapter 1 & 2 but still cover more time in chapters 3-5 because I think that’d be jarring in the best way? Like the absolute intensity of that initial week quickly dissolving and suddenly he’s been living this life for months he didn’t notice go by. Again <3 a problem for post draft me <3

I don’t have much to say about this one because in Nano I didn’t even finish it, and now I have but it’s still <3 giving me trouble <3 - however I’ve realised this is probably the most important chapter at this stage of the novel because it’s the first full chapter with just the twins, trying to have a bonding moment and catch up but only learning that they a) love each other b) can’t stand each other whilst not realising just yet that they are c) extremely co-dependent. I like to call this novel multiple plot threads in a trench coat and that’s definitely it, the twins have their own individual plot threads separate to one another, but if there’s a central plot (and there kinda is?? its a surprise :) ) at its essence is them realising how fucked up their relationship is, but wanting to rectify that and trying to understand the difference between a tangled and toxic relationship.

This chapter introduces that each character has a key symbol that’s attached to the world somehow and Felix has chapters like these in his arc where he tries to navigate the state of their relationship (so there’s one later on titled “Ocean (Beau)”) and his associations with them. We have to laugh here because I was really like “oh Dorothy is sapphic so I’ll make her obsessed with the moon” but then it became a major symbol in the story <3 Dorothy IS obsessed with the moon, and Felix is frustrated because he can’t see it the way she does and he feels like part of him is missing because of that, when it’s just a different perspective but nooo these two need to have unhealthy co-dependency and then get mad when they’re unhealthily co-dependent on each other :/ Anyway I’d just like to talk about how Felix’s need to be like his sister in this chapter is demonstrated through a symbol that’s attached way more to her than it is to him even though in the prose he describes the moon as this fragile, breakable thing which is the complete opposite as how Dorothy would and lets talk about the blade mirroring the prologue!!!!

He closed an eye and pointed the blade at the moon. If he could, it’d be so easy: surgeons precision, swift wrist flick, carved and plucked from the sky. Laid out on his palm like tissue paper, half translucent and as breakable as skin - a birthday present for Dorothy, if he doesn’t tear it. He’ll try not to, but it’d be so easy.

In further development of the Moon Imagery, I’ve started using a lot of Star Imagery with Felix and a lot of general space imagery in both of their POVs and I’m delighted to say I have no idea what the meta means with that but I like it!! It fits the story very well and they’re probably mirroring each other or something!

This little chapter taught me that I need to be flexible with form <3 this was originally meant to be the final scene of the last chapter, and I was so hyped because it was one of the first scenes I conceptualised, but then it ~sucked~. However I didn’t realise until recently that it sucked because I was writing it in a traditional storytelling form - which most of this book benefits from, but this moment certainly does! not! I’m really glad because I think this book is the perfect playground for experimental form - although here it’s relatively simple though, most of the setup for this happens at the end of the previous chapter and then this is just all the information condensed as much as possible. This chapter is focused on memories so it really works for it to be cut off from the previous which is in the fictive present, and Felix’s perception of memories right now are ~a little jarring~

The final scene of Moon (Dotty) depicts Felix and Dorothy breaking into a park at 4am, promptly having an argument that results in Dorothy leaving, and Felix sat next to a fountain picking pennies out of it and trying to associate a memory with the year on the back - this chapter is those memories and this introduces the fluid relationship characters have with their past. For Felix, he’s seeing the last 20+ years from a bird eyes view in a very sporadic way and it’s starting to sink in that those 20+ years actually Happened. Some of the memories are very distanced, others are as intense as flashbacks, and some are a mixture of the two. This one is very interesting to me because he completely separates himself from the memory halfway through Fel do you wanna talk about this (unfortunately I cannot drop the name because of plot <3)

cw: light/implied homophobia

IN GOD WE TRUST / 1978

The first time Felix held a boys hand was in 1978 in the back pew at morning service. It was the first time [redacted]’s father preached and they got stuck in the back because they arrived late, because they laid in the grass together, wearing each other’s identical pecan coloured blazers as sunrise peeled back the night, and they slunk into the back of service like ghosts everyone could see and maybe they knew why they were late. [Redacted]’s father had a razor voice and he made sure every word sliced into his son and his son interlocked fingers with the boy next to him. His son didn’t look at the boy he held hands with the same way he’ll pretend his blazer is his and not the boys and the same way he didn’t look at the boy the first time they kissed behind the chapel building and the same way he didn’t look at the boy during Bible study for the week after.

Whilst I’d say in Chapter 2 the chemistry between Beau and Felix is as clear as day this is the first instance where Felix’s queerness is explicitly introduced and I’m taking this chance to say this book gets more queer every fucking week. Like I think in the last updates I was like ohhh sexuality doesn’t play much into Felix’s arc and know it’s like 99% of his damn arc and we LOVE it. But at this point he doesn’t realise like when I tell you guys this man is so repressed

I am literally only putting this here because I talk about all the other chapters and it’s weird to me to leave one out. Also because the graphic and title is pretty. Not gonna lie I love making these posts and that is 10% to ramble about meta 90% making pretty graphics that is literally just cropping photos on Unsplash and putting Garamond text over them <3

Anyway this was originally Lessons in Holy and when I revisited that chapter I realised it was so fucking messy and I tried to fix it but it didn’t really work and I’ve been scared to touch it since. However the meta is top notch so here we are - it mirrors Chapter One, Everything Holy, which explores Felix’s decision to leave the cult and with that, leave God. Everything Holy / In San Francisco explores his relationship (or lack thereof) with God and how much Felix’s life has changed since he left - and how “holy” it is. It definitely goes back to the idea of the tangible because the holiness preached to him growing up was not something tangible to him, whereas with this he looks at real life experiences, so he tries to find holiness in that. It also ties with Cyan City and the romanticisation of San Francisco as something tangible and something he can find holiness in, which a) he needs to learn that things don’t have to be “holy” to be valuable and b) it would be a shame if :) he centred everything good about his life around SF and then :) something bad were to happen whilst living in SF :) the way he and Dorothy both do this

My plan for this is basically: Condense The Shit Out Of It. The hardest part about this chapter is it is very thematic and you know as a lit major (derogatory) I love that but with more theme centric chapters the line between subtle and Too Much can be verrryyy thin, but I think focusing on character exploration over theme will fix that pretty easily. I’d also like to separate the Isaias introduction into its own chapter because it’s such an important moment and November me just? Latched it on at the end? And that plus Felix’s crisis in the same chapter is just too much. This chapter is gonna get changed A Lot but for now here’s Felix’s very chill and relaxed ending to his POV section :)

cw: drowning, drug mention

Felix didn’t speak to God for three weeks and everything unholy became holy: the coffee scorching his throat, the kaleidoscopic t-shirts and high waisted jeans, the punk rock they play at the record store – loud and electric. It’s unholy, but he sleeps through the night now, he folds coloured card into butterflies at breakfast and scribbles biro eyes over the newspaper's sudoku on his lunch break. He earns money and he spends a pinch of it on himself: on new wave records and playing cards and earrings he can’t wear yet. Sometimes he buys marijuana it’s not a sin because marijuana means he only smokes tobacco twice a day now – one at breakfast, one before bed. He bar hops with Beau on Saturdays and hikes with Dorothy on Sundays and he tells strangers he studies American Literature and he smiles with his eyes more and nobody notices that somebody’s holding his head underwater. And he doesn’t know whose hand it is, but it knows how to grip tight. And he doesn’t know how to swim, but he knows how to swallow water. And he doesn’t know if this is the punishment or the sin because the water stings his eyes but he chooses to keep them open, and the water will tangle in his lungs but he chooses to keep his mouth open. And hellfire can’t touch him under here, so he’ll keep swallowing water and it’ll burn him in a different way, and he’ll like how it scorches his throat.

(Once again context I didn’t share because I don’t like the writing that talks about it: Felix has a deep fear of drowning from past trauma, but he’s also very obsessive about it and often imagines himself drowning.)

(also the way these excerpts are just showing off my love for repetition my Intro to Creative Writing Tutor that called repetition lazy is seething rn!!!!)

Overall though, I’m v happy with how this section came out now that I actually know what the story is! As I’ve finished drafting it, I have noticed where the missing plot beats are and this is what I expected because I Do Not have a lot of experience with novels (I’ve never passed 15k on a novel before so we’re in new territory now) and generally struggle to see beats before I finish a draft. I’m thinking there’s at least one chapter missing and maybe a shorter one, like MSATBOTF, but I won’t be touching this section again until I finish the draft. Most of all I learnt a lot about the story’s form and I’m excited to play with that and be a bit more flexible!

I’m currently drafting Indigo, the first chapter in Dorothy’s POV, and I was going to talk more about it but this post is too long and the next update will be <3 all about her <3. But the chapter introduces her and Jolie’s tumultuous relationship and here’s a lil peak!

Me, a sapphic, capable of writing happy sapphic relationships:

Me instead:

cw: light/implied homophobia

If she didn’t display the ticket on the bedside table - like she had something to prove - she could have easily been in Dallas, in New York, London, Cannes, Moscow, Tokyo, Cairo, Sydney. But wherever she went, Dorothy and Jolie have had four airport reunions before today - four times they’ve had to soften themselves, disguise themselves. Old high school friend flying in to be her maid of honour, college roommates who don’t see each other as a day past eighteen, pen pals reuniting for the first time since the seventies, business trip colleagues in casualwear. The fifth time, there’s nothing to hide, and as they walk to the car, Dorothy has to wonder: if they were seen by nobody, would Jolie have hugged her with both arms? Would she have kissed her? Would Dorothy kiss back?

I’m midway through this chapter, so I’ll keep the rest of it for the next update! That I promise won’t be in three months!

If you read through all of this then I am in love with you <3

#i'd say im sorry this is so long but it was so fun to write so i'm not!#also pls be proud i cut 2k words from this bc i RAMBLED #atlastracking #writeblr #writing update #revelations revelations

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stargaze-issei · 4 years

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"write for me" (t. kei x fem!reader)

summary; after years of crushing on you, the introverted writer from class, tsukishima finds a way to let all his feelings out. if he couldn't talk to you, then he would write to you.

genre; fluff.

warnings; none.

word count; 1.3k

autor's note; i'm sorry but i thought once about tsukki being a writer and here i am now lmao. i could totally see him using writing as a coping mechanism bc he can't express his feelings. is this self inserted? yes very much. anyways, enjoy.

everyone knew tsukishima was smart, he liked to read and was and extreme geek. he could tell you trivias from every marvel movie if you asked. maybe that's what drawn him to you. imagine how hard his jaw dropped when he saw his middle school crush in his same classroom, there, in karasuno. to yamaguchi, it was hilarious. your figure hadn't change so much during holidays, if anything, you were even prettier. of course, tsukishima would never say that out loud. he had made sure to get a seat from behind you, in order to make his staring less obvious, but never escaping from yamaguchi's comments on how he should at least talk to you.

the first time he noticed you, was during a break in your old school. you were sitting in the floor with a notebook supported on your thighs, writing something with a weird speed. even between all those noisy kids, balls flying around, you seemed so focused on your writing that it almost looked out of place. kei's head was filled with questions on what got you so excited to write, because being a writer himself, he knew that inspiration was a hard thing to get. since that moment, his eyes always found a way back to you. sometimes, you just stared at a blank paper, or write your brainstorm down. it would be a lie if he said he never wondered what was on that paper, on those notebooks. more than once he stayed up all night thinking about it.

"there are tons of others schools! it has to be a sign, tsukki!" yamaguchi had tried to convince him to talk to you for ages, but an uncommon shyness struck the blonde whenever it came to you.

"shut up, yamaguchi" he always shut him down, but his friend understood, and seeing tsukishima get flustered was always a pleasure to sight.

in the whole time he knew you, you never seemed sad. yes, you were usually by yourself, but he catch on those small smiles whenever you were satisfied by what you wrote, or when you laughed at yourself for any reason. he was sure that, at least throughout middle school, you were happy. someway along the way, it changed. you were making new friends, and to anyone who didn't pay attention, you were happy as always, but he knew you weren't. tsukishima desperately wanted to talk to you, he hated seeing those bags under your eyes, that fake smile. he wanted you to be happy and didn't know how to help you.

"hey y/n.

you looked sad today, i wanted to talk to you but i couldn't. is it because you stopped writing? if it is, please don't, i look forward to read something from you.

ps. please don't get scared, i'm not a stalker. i just like you, a lot"

he folded the little note in two, he would deliver it after practice in your locker. if he said he wasn't nervous, he would be the biggest liar ever. his hands were shaking while writing, in practice, he couldn't block a single hit because he was too busy thinking about your reaction. of course you would get scared, who wouldn't? he basically said that he watched you enough to know when you are sad and asked you to keep doing something as private as writing. but he did worry about you. the only other option was to actually talk to you, but that was not happening. first, because he had a reputation to keep. tsukishima kei, the sarcasm in human form, showing feelings over a crush? nope, not in this lifetime. second, at least this way he had the benefit of the doubt. if you thought he was some cute, sweet boy, maybe you wouldn't run away, but if you knew it was him, it was over. most people were scared of him.

he decided to do it, against all his better judgement.

the next day, he made yamaguchi pretend to talk to him near you locker only to see your reaction. every minute seemed eternal, until you finally arrived. he couldn't avoid thinking how pretty you looked in your uniform. both him and yamaguchi, who he had updated of his doings, stared at you while the piece of paper fell to your feet. thank god the halls were full enough for you to not feel their piercing gaze, because they weren't even blinking. as you read, tsukishima could swore his heart stopped beating. but when he saw your lips curve in a smile? he was done. he had made you smile. you were smiling at his handwriting, at something he wrote, damn, it felt like a whole world had been presented before him. he didn't had butterflies in his belly, he had a complete fleet of birds.

it became a routine to leave you little notes, saying how cute he thought you were, or him asking things, even if you couldn't respond, he just wanted you to know he cared.

"hey y/n.

i thought you presentation in japanese history was amazing. and don't even think i'm biased, because of course i am, but that's not the point. how you smiled at the end made it ten times better.

ps. that hair pin looked really pretty"

as usual, he waited until the end of practice to leave it. a paper folded was stuck with tape outside your locker that time, blocking the entrance. his heart started to beat faster, had you left him a reply that time?

"hi, you.

it's been a month since you started leaving me notes, it would be rude of me to not answer. you make me feel really good, you know? i was surprised at first, nobody else notice how sad i was but you. i'm not anymore, mostly thanks to your words. i can't get you out my mind, it bothered me to not have a face to place in my thoughts. i wanted, no, i want to meet you so bad. do you really like me? i like to think you wouldn't lie to me, so i won't lie to you. i'm pretty sure i like you too. i can even hear you thinking, how could i like you if i don't know who you are?, well, think again, tsukishima kei."

the first thing he felt was fear. god, he was so scared. he re-read it, it said you liked him back. did you though? he was so... unlikeable. someone as nice as you just couldn't be into him. but he wasn't anyone to say who you could or could not like, so–

"hey, tsukishima" that voice. he had heard it so many time, but for the first time was actually to him. his name between your lips sounded like a completely different thing, something amazing tsukki could hear for hours non stop. slowly, he turned around to face you. you were still in your uniform, meaning you had stayed there for three hours just waiting for him. "aren't you gonna ask me how i figured it out?"

a soft how left his throat. you were kind of entertained by his reaction, you understood the shocked, you had felt it when you realized it was him sending you those cute notes four days ago.

"when the guy you like since middle school starts acting strange, you can tell. and the way you wrote, like you knew me from a long time. i was between you and yamaguchi, so i took my chances on you" both of you were to afraid to move, scared that the other was going to disappear "would it be okay if i ask you on a date?" all your confidence had left your body before asking that question.

"that's all i want, dumbass" he answered, going back to be his usual self. you laughed, making his heart skip a beat. "c-can i... get closer?" that was everything you needed to walk towards him, your moves seemed to synchronize perfectly with his.

kei's arms wrapped around your neck, him being to tall to reach your waist, and your arms were around his torso. he felt so warm, like the hug you were expecting your whole life.

#tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #hq tsukki #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x you #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima #tsukishima haikyuu #tsukishima imagine #tsukki fluff #tsukki x reader #– star's; originals! [❀]

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krabstick32 · 4 years

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It’s The Little Things We Remember (collab)

We’ll Do It All Over Again - A Modern/Reincarnation AU with @trueblueoceaneyes

Welcome to the second part, or the “head” of the We’ll Do It All Over Again (Modern!AU) Collab! This Modern!AU collaboration is divided into two parts, @trueblueoceaneyes’ “It Took A While, But We’re Home Now” and mine “It’s The Little Things We Remember”. It’s about you and Giyuu meeting in a new life where the Corps and the Demons still exist, armed with the memories and experiences of a past life. Although both of them are set in modern times, and technically within the same timeframe, they are not direct sequels or immediate continuations, so it can be read alone. (Although, we would appreciate it if you read the other’s part UwU)

NAVIGATION:

PART 1: It Took A While, But We’re Home Now by @trueblueoceaneyes

Novelist Giyuu Tomioka passes off his past life as a fantasy series but shit goes down when the main heroine of his book shows up in front of him.

PART 2: It’s The Little Things We Remember by @krabstick32 (You are here!)

You’re tasked to go on a mission with the Water Pillar. He was a bit of a jerk, but despite meeting him for the first time, you already knew that - among a couple of other things.

header was made by trueblueoceaneyes and image used was by @/sinba_ on twitter

Pairing: Hashira!Giyuu x Hashira!Reader (mentioned Mitsuri x Obanai)

Synopsis: You’re tasked to go on a mission with the Water Pillar. He was a bit of a jerk, but despite meeting him for the first time, you already knew that - among a couple of other things.

Tags/warnings: There is some light angst, swearing, a semi-graphic depiction of a fight scene, and a bit of blood. If you’re not comfortable with that please do read something else uwu

Word count: 14.1k~

A/N: I honestly can’t believe I was able to work with the one and only @trueblueoceaneyes. Like literally, all of this was possible by their wonderful and amazing self, and would not exist without them (i still can’t believe how we literally wrote a grand estimate of 23k words) UwU working with her was so fun, and her writing is beautiful and i am willing to sing her praises day and night, so go check them out!! <33 BECAUSE BOTTOMLINE IS: SHE’S GREAT.

To be completely honest, both of us were freaking out with how long this is, and were crying over how we would cut it, until we said fuck it, let it be 14k words long. We thought that theirs was long, but we thought wrong lmao. Anyway, we hope you like our labor of love, and enjoy it as much as we did writing it. Please Enjoy~

NAVIGATION:

PART 1: It Took A While, But We’re Home Now by @trueblueoceaneyes

PART 2: It’s The Little Things We Remember by @krabstick32 (You are here!)

Thursday 9:37 PM

From: Headquarters

9:37 PM

Head to Ubuyashiki Tower—Oyakata-sama’s office at 10:00 PM. Meeting Assignment.

Taking note of the short message, you shut your phone and tucked it into a shirt pocket before heaving a sigh and standing up from where you were perched at the edge of a building.

Ensuring that both your Nichirin blade and Nichirin gun was tucked well onto your person, you turned around and leaned your body back, letting yourself fall as you grabbed a stray railing to hoist yourself back up.

Despite the late hour, the city was loud as you jumped from building to building. From the height you were on, it was relatively easy to hear the sound of cars and sirens, and the faint thumping of music from the bars that dotted the streets. You made sure to keep yourself hidden in the shadows and on top of the rooftops to avoid detection as you were rushing to get to the Ubuyashiki Tower in the few minutes you were notified to arrive. Thankfully, the building wasn’t far from your previous assignment, so you were able to arrive in record time, landing at the top with little difficulty as you walked towards the lone structure settled in the middle for those like you, and entered the elevator inside to go down a few floors.

Exiting the metal contraption, you were greeted by a welcoming lobby with an adjacent garden open to the crisp night air, filled with wisterias and designed with a respectably sized koi pond. Nodding to the young girl at the receptionist table, you continued walking to a brightly lit hallway cushioned with lush carpets, and wall-mounted lamps.

As you walked, you composed yourself for a moment and brushed off your skirt, using your fingers to lightly comb over your wind tousled hair. When you finally reached the large door at the end of the hallway, you took a deep breath before knocking three times and entering.

Upon your entrance, you quickly noted Oyakata-sama sitting on his desk chair and Giyuu Tomioka, a fellow Pillar, standing tall in front of the master. As per protocol and to show respect to the leader of all demon slayers, you quietly bowed and greeted the master as soon as you were in front of his desk.

“Good Evening Oyakata-sama. I apologize for being late, I got caught in a mission.”

“Raise your head.” You obeyed, and saw him smiling calmly at you, easing your nerves. “It’s alright my child, you aren’t late. In fact, you arrived at just the right time. Giyuu himself just got here.”

“Thank you Oyakata-sama.”

The master gave a small nod and gestured to the chairs the two of you were in front of. “Well, now that (F/N) is here, I have something to discuss with the both of you. Please, take a seat.”

You tossed a quick glance at the man beside you and mirrored his actions as the two of you took a seat. Upon your and his movement, Oyakata-sama clicked a button, and the room instantly dimmed as a projector dropped down behind him.

“As the both of you know, we’ve been getting reports about disappearances focused around Natagumo Prefecture.” The screen showed a sizable map with a specific area highlighted in red. “Specifically the town at the base of the mountain. It seems to be acting as the base of operations of the demon.”

He clicked at a small remote and the screen showed fifteen humans aged around ten to sixteen years old. “It’s been a month and over fifteen missing cases have been reported to the police.” The slide changed and showed seven people wearing demon slayer uniforms. “Seven of our own haven’t returned after that mission.”

Immediately your stomach twisted into painful knots upon hearing the deaths of so many innocent lives - you felt sick unto your very core. No matter how long you’ve been a demon slayer, it never gets any easier hearing a death count.

“Could it be an upper moon?” The Water Pillar asked after a moment of silence.

“I’m afraid it’s possible. I hate sending any of you into the battlefield, but I need the two of you to handle this as quickly as possible, to avoid more lives from being taken.” Oyakata-sama replied somberly. “Take the necessary supplies. You can leave at dawn.”

The two of you stood and bowed in respect to Oyakata-sama.

“We’ll update you on any major news.” Giyuu spoke, and you added “Yes, We’ll take our leave now.”

The two of you left and walked back out into the hallway, and through the reception area. The girl from before was nowhere to be seen, so once the elevator doors opened, the two of you rode in silence down to the swordsmiths' floor. A mission such as this would require the two of you to have your weapons checked and to grab any necessary items.

On the way down, you decided to engage in a conversation with Giyuu. Despite being a Pillar for a few months now, this would be the first time you were paired with the raven-haired man, or spoke to him for that matter. You wanted this mission to go as smoothly as possible.

Taking a deep breath, you started, “So, Tomioka-san, this would be the first time we're on a mission together, yeah?” You broke the silence and gave him a smile, only for the silence to stretch on uncomfortably after your words left your mouth. Thinking that maybe he didn’t hear you, you were going to repeat it until the doors opened and he spared you a quick glance.

“Uh, Tomioka-san?”

“Stay focused. This is an important mission.” He spoke, in a strong yet quiet voice, and exited with a brisk pace until he disappeared behind a corner, leaving you standing alone in the elevator to gape at his response.

You were dumbfounded. “He did not just…” you asked yourself, because how rude was it to ignore your coworker and leave them hanging? Those were the first words you spoke to him - apart from the compulsory introduction of you being the new Thunder Pillar - and yet you were promptly snubbed. Even Obanai replied to you when you spoke to him.

In your stunned silence, the doors started to close until you reached out a hand, and exited as well. Briefly, you heard a small shhk that signaled it closing, but didn’t care as you were absorbed in your thoughts, carefully picking apart the situation.

There was nothing wrong with what you said. You were only trying to engage in a conversation - trying to get along for the benefit of your mission, because nothing was worse than a tense atmosphere between a team. But then he goes and slaps your metaphorical face by insinuating that this was all a big game to you, that you’re not taking any of this seriously? You were a Pillar; as if talking to a handsome man would distract you from doing your job and exacting vengeance for those poor souls killed in cold blood.

Letting out a dignified huff, you continued walking, and resisted the urge to stomp your foot down at the Water Pillar’s unfriendliness.

In the back of your mind however, you were barely surprised. He was always like this—always putting up a front in the presence of others, always acting cold as ice, always pretending like he didn’t care even though he did care, he cared so much, all because he felt that he didn’t deserve to be happy after—

“Don’t come closer.”

You were losing breath as you tried to catch up with the raven haired male after a Pillar meeting. How was he even walking so quickly? Not to mention it didn’t look to be as taxing to him as it was for you. He was practically strolling when you were full on sprinting. He was a Pillar, sure, but so were you!

“Hey! Don’t ignore me,” you gasped as you stumbled over the uneven path, but you quickly regained composure. Giyuu doesn’t even pause for a second. “I just wanted to-”

“No thank you. Please leave me alone,” he gruffly replied. How come he didn’t seem the least bit tired? You heard he trained at a mountain, fine, but how the hell was he this fast in such a thick forest? You still couldn’t go around that quick without tripping over some root or getting hit in the face by a random branch!

Making up your mind, you go as fast as you can and tackle him. It doesn’t look like he ever expected you to do that, because he loses balance and you both go crashing into the forest floor.

Whatever you were on top of shifts and you’re forced to move. You groan as you get up, only for the breath to hitch in your throat as you find yourself staring into blue eyes.

Gods above, he looked absolutely divine.

“Why?” he grumbled as he softly pushed you off of him and sat up. “What were you trying to accomplish by doing that?”

“It’s not my fault you were walking so quickly! Who does that when you’re talking to someone?” you huffed, your cheeks feeling incredibly warm at how close you both were. He probably caught how you had gawked at him.

“Fine. What do you want?” he groaned, frowning at you. He doesn’t miss how red your face had gotten and how you couldn’t seem to look him in the eye. “Why do you keep following me?”

“We’re going to be friends.”

“...What…?” Giyuu stares as you smile brightly at him. You were practically sparkling. “You’re joking, right?”

“Of course not, you idiot. Do I look like I’m joking?” you huffed again, before getting up and dusting your kimono and uniform free of dried leaves. “We’re going to be friends even if it’s the last thing I do.”

Giyuu is completely dumbfounded, until you reach down and pull at his hands to get him up on his feet. He takes a mental note of how your hands looked so fragile and soft compared to his own, but you had pulled him to his feet with strength that did not match your smaller body frame.

“Why… are you doing this?” he whispered. He couldn’t understand.

“Well, I don’t like seeing people alone. Especially when they don’t look like they want to be,” you grin at him as you both find your way back to the village. Giyuu is quiet, both by your words and because you haven’t let go of his hand. “First off, let’s have lunch! My treat, of course.”

When you blink, you feel like you just took a sudden breath of air and the room comes back to view. What just happened? What the hell was your subconscious on about? Where did those thoughts even come from?

You barely knew the man. You didn’t know where he came from or what his circumstances were. You tell yourself to get your facts straight and effectively push back whatever that was, only leaving the memory of the conversation you just had - or the lack of a proper one, to be exact.That small thought quickly dampened the fire of your irritation, because admittedly, you believed that first impressions aren't everything - to always take them with a grain of salt. Despite how plain rude he was, you had no right nor the sufficient amount of experiences to be able to understand his character and pass judgement.

Slowly, you took a deep breath, and exhaled.

Maybe he just had a rough day, or maybe he was just shy and socially inept, a farfetched and random thought may it be. Perhaps that was just how he really was. Regardless of his personality though, you can’t deny the fact that he must be an exceptional demon slayer to be granted the rank of a Pillar, and because of that, you’d try your best to at least be respectful to him, even if he didn’t return the same courtesy.

Shaking your head, you resumed walking, and turned the same corner he did to reach the weapons room.

You wouldn’t say it out loud, but you were willing to admit to yourself that he was amazing.

The way he moved and handled the sword was absolutely unparalleled, you noted as you watched from the side. His actions were like water - the way he dodged was perfectly calculated, his slashes fluid, and precise. It was like no movement was wasted because everything was precise and deliberate. It almost seemed like he read the battle in the blink of an eye before executing an attack.

You couldn’t help but feel awed as you watched his fight. He truly was something else.

“Hey, am I really that pathetic to you? How annoying are you to turn your back on an opponent to ogle your comrade?”

From your periphery, you felt the air vibrate, and without batting an eye, you unsheathed your blade and cut off the approaching appendage with little effort. “I was enjoying the show y’know. It’s not everyday I get to see him fight,” you sighed as you turned, and slashed at air to get rid of the blood on your sword. “But you’ve ruined my fun. Might as well get this over with. So, what’s your name?”

“Are you stupid? You don’t even know me, the great upper moon six?”

“Frankly, no. Not really.” This wasn’t upper moon 6. It was strong yes, but no matter how many humans a demon ate, this was nowhere near the strength of an upper moon. Although with it’s impressive blood demon art of replicating multiple limbs, you wouldn’t be surprised if it was a lower moon.

It seemed to pause, before screeching out a loud “How annoying!” as a dozen arms lunged for you.

You quickly jumped out of harm’s way and up a decently sized branch. “That’s a pretty cool blood demon art you got there. Imagin—!” You leaped off the tree before a large snap cut you off as the demon broke the branch you were previously on. “Hey! I was talking!”

“Annoying! You’re so annoying! Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

“Ugh, is that all you really have to say?”

Crouching on the branch, you pushed your feet, and catapulted yourself into the sky. You shut out the world as you breathed deeply, focusing and positioning your body into one of your breath forms.

“Thunder breathing, First form: Thunderclap and flash.” And in a flurry of movement, you landed deftly on your feet before hearing a loud thump sound from behind you.

“Well.” Dusting off your skirt, you stood and faced the demon. “That should do it.”

“How annoying!”

Immediately, you turned around and was surprised to find the demon floating 15 feet off the ground.

“Not so pathetic now, am I? A Pillar like you can’t even kill me!” It taunted, before raising his hands and the ground beneath you crumbled.

It all felt so real. You felt the ground shake and how the earth seemed brittle - only instinct made you twist out of the way as the forest floor seemed to cave under you. A tiny mistake on your part caused you to land quarter of a meter short from what was supposed to be the edge, but once you felt a completely intact forest floor, you immediately knew that multiplying elastic body parts was not its Blood Demon Art.

You need to talk to Tomioka. This could get ugly fast without knowing which was real and which was an illusion. Your eyes immediately found him fighting, but widened in horror as you watched the demon he was fighting pushed at his shoulders and slammed his head against the ground. You felt your heart freeze as you screamed his name, not even noticing that you used his first.

“Giyuu!”

In your haste to reach Tomioka, Giyuu’s vision suddenly slowed as he watched one of the demon’s limb aim for you.

You were distracted from seeing him hit his head, and in a moment of weakness you didn’t notice the demon preparing for the kill.

It was too familiar; it felt like he’s seen this before, like he lived through this. His vision overlapped with a visage, of you wrapped in a painstakingly familiar haori, your skin pale and painted with red, his hands wet and drenched in your blood…

“Giyuu, stop, please,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. It hurt having to be moved around so much. You felt really tired, despite being carried.

Red. Red. So much red.

“No, no. Just shut up, please,” Giyuu could feel his lungs constricting. He was so panicked he had forgotten how to use his breathing technique. He felt like his whole chest was on fire, legs only moving due to adrenaline. “Please. We’re close to Shinobu, just-”

“Giyuu…? You’re still there, right?” your voice was so small, so unlike how he usually heard it laughing or calling for him. “Why…? Can’t I see you…?”

It was like something in him snapped.

No, I'm not letting you die again!

“WATCH OUT!” Giyuu screamed as he moved so fast that only your fellow pillars would be able to see how he grabbed his gun from its holster and aimed at the hand reaching for you.

Upon hearing his warning, you immediately flipped back, using the forest floor as a springboard to push yourself out of the way. When you landed, a solid arm got a hold of your waist and you felt yourself being pulled to a strong body, as the air brushed past the two of you.

Quickly, he pulled the two of you behind the cover of a massive tree, Giyuu only letting go of you when he took a quick glance at where the demon was cradling its hand and screaming its head off. You were breathing heavily, immediately aware of how close you were to death’s door.

“Are you okay? Did you get hit?” He turned to you as he asked, gently holding your shoulders and inspecting your uniform for any blood. Whatever he saw just now felt so real, he had to check for himself if you were alive.

You shook your head, dazed as you saw the worry cloud his eyes. “No.”

He breathed out a heavy sigh, feeling relief flood into his system before scolding you lightly. “You need to be more careful! You almost got yourself killed!”

“Sorry, sorry. But that’s besides the point. How are we going to kill it? It’s blood demon art shows some pretty damn convincing illusions.”

Tomioka thought for a moment. “We need to distract it, keep one of us at the front while the other takes the kill from the back.”

You nod in affirmation. His idea made sense. “I’ll be the distraction.”

“What? No, i’ll do i—“ Giyuu stopped talking once he noticed the sound of a clashing sword and found that you weren’t there in front of him anymore. “Sure,” he sighed before gripping his sword and jumping on the trees’ branches for cover.

He didn’t notice you fighting earlier, but as he jumped from branch to branch all around the opening, he saw that you were incredibly fast. Even with his enhanced senses, you appeared to be a blur as you weaved in and out of the demon’s clutches, laughing all the while taunting it.

“Ahh, this is fun! You should’ve put on a fight like this with me back then!” Squealing, you darted out a hand and slashed at its neck. Unfortunately for the both of you, the demon was nearly as fast as you were, and you only managed to land a scratch on its skin.

“Annoying! The way you’re jumping around is annoying!”

Giyuu wanted you to stop talking so badly, because you weren’t supposed to rile the demon up like this! Distract it sure, but not bait it to want to kill you more!

“Oh, are you getting mad already? You seem a little red there.”

“ANNOYING! STOP! MOVING!”

“Ah, would you prefer me to stand still? I wouldn’t mind! You should have said so earlier.”

And when Giyuu saw your eyes dart to his for one quick second, he immediately knew what you wanted him to do.

In an instant, he launched himself off the branch he was on as you pulled back your sword and jabbed it at the demon’s forehead.

“Water breathing First Form: Water surface slash!” Quickly, he extended his sword and slashed at its neck before it could move a muscle as he twisted his body to avoid hitting you. The leaves crunched under his shoes as he landed on his feet a couple of feet away.

“Annoying, annoying, annoying! Put me back on my body so I could prove to you that I’m not pathetic!” The demon wailed as it started to disintegrate on your sword. “He would’ve let me move from Lower Moon 1 and let me join the Upper Moons if the two of you didn’t meddle! You two will pay for this!” It threatened, as the last of its body turned into ash, and its clothes fluttered down to the ground.

The clearing was quiet save for the wind whistling past and the tree leaves rustling by.

“That was the real one right?” You whispered, slightly anxious that another one would pop up in the silence.

“It is.”

Heaving a sigh, you looked back at Giyuu and saw him walking towards you.

“Are you okay? You hit your head right?” You asked him, surprise coloring your face when he tore a portion of his suit. “What are you doing?”

Gently, he took your arm and inspected a decently sized laceration settled neatly in between your shoulder and elbow. It was deep, but it was a clean cut and it wasn’t too bad, considering that you’ve had much worse such as broken bones and dislocated joints.

“Worry about yourself first, will you?” He turned your arm carefully, making sure that his actions were slow and steady before wrapping the piece of cloth carefully and with practiced ease.

You frown. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I feel fine. Now focus on yourself. This is pretty deep. It might need stitches.”

Though it was unlikely, you hoped that it was too dark for him to see your face clearly—it felt too warm for your liking. “I… didn’t notice.”

He tied the bandages off neatly, before answering, “You will soon. The adrenaline will probably wear off in a few minutes.”

“I’m not the best at first aid, but this will do for now. Try not to move so much until we get to Shinobu?”

It felt oddly nostalgic, seeing him worry like this a little, almost like a distant dream or a distant memory. “Thanks.”

Giyuu nodded before pulling out his phone from his coat pocket. “I’ll be updating HQ. Kakushi should arrive in a bit. Do you want to wait for them, or head back?”

You weighed the pros and cons before responding, “I wouldn’t mind waiting for them. The fight was fairly easy, but I feel drained. We could get checked too.”

“That’s a good idea,” he said as he typed another message while you sat down slowly beside a nearby tree trunk. Once he shut his phone, he followed your lead and leaned down on a tree a few feet from yours.

After a few minutes of a slightly tense silence, Tomioka decided to break it, and be the one to start the conversation.

“That… was the first time I saw you fight. You’re pretty fast (L/N)-san. It was amazing.”

“Oh?” You tried to mask the surprise in your voice. Hearing him initiate unnecessary conversation was something you weren’t used to, especially after your first conversation (if it could even be considered one) back at the Ubuyashiki tower. Was he offering an olive branch?

Regardless, you couldn’t deny the warm feeling in your chest as you looked up and automatically smiled up at him. “Well, you were doing really good yourself. I’ve never seen someone move that gracefully in a fight like that.”

At your compliment, he looked down at the ground as he tried to hide his nervous habit of fiddling with the hilt of his sword. “I’m not.”

“Oh don’t be modest now Tomioka-san! You looked amazing!”

“I was complimenting you; don’t turn it around on me.”

Laughing lightly, you let out a breathy “Okay, okay.” After deciding to not push your luck and that you’ve bothered him enough, you raised your hands in defeat before bringing them back down to your lap.

The silence that followed was definitely nicer compared to before, until he broke it again with a near inaudible whisper.

“Giyuu.”

“Hm?”

“Just… Giyuu. Giyuu is fine” he added, rubbing a hand on the nape of his neck.

Smiling widely, you turned to him, “If that’s the case, just (F/N) is fine too, Giyuu.”

“(F/N) it is then.” he spoke, feeling a sense of warm familiarity as he tested the way your name felt on his tongue.

Truthfully, he noticed when you called out his first name even in the heat of battle. It wasn’t much of a big deal back then, because the two of you were focused on staying alive and doing your job, but as he processed the fight in his head, he found that he didn’t mind, and that he actually liked how his name sounded in your voice.

As if on cue, the cracking of dried leaves and branches alerted you and Giyuu, instinct driving the two of you to grab onto the hilt of your nichirin blades. The tight grip on your swords only eased up when the familiar uniform of the kakushi moved into the clearing. There were around ten of them, seven surveying the area and taking down any evidence of the demon’s existence while there were three holding medical kits who walked over to the both of you.

They stopped once they reached a reasonable distance before bowing slightly. “Tomioka-sama, (L/N)-sama, please excuse us. We’ll be checking on your injuries.”

You muttered a grateful thanks as the kakushi attending to you started cleaning the wound Giyuu wrapped earlier. It was wrapped pretty well, so they only applied an ointment before replacing the cloth with gauze. “I apologize (F/N)-sama, I can’t suture your wound here because I’m not trained. We’ll immediately take you in the medical wing of the tower once you and Tomioka-sama head back.”

“Thanks,” you smiled as the kakushi bowed in front of you. “Hey, no need to bow, I really appreciate your help…?”

“...Tanaka Ayaka.”

“Really, thank you so much Tanaka-san.”

“O-Of course (L/N)-sama!” Tanaka said, bowing deeply in gratitude for your kind words.

As you and Tanaka argued on why she should or why shouldn’t bow, Giyuu watched discreetly, feeling the warmth pool in his stomach from the kindness you displayed. He was brought out of his thoughts when he felt the pain on his head multiply as the kakushi tending to him started wrapping gauze on his bleeding wound.

“Please bear with it for a bit longer Tomioka-sama, you have a concussion-”

Immediately, your gaze darted to the side. You weren’t eavesdropping on his conversation - truthfully, you only overheard - but when your eyes landed on a stream of blood coating patch of his hair and a portion of his pale skin you didn’t notice before, you absolutely flipped because how dare he tell you to worry about yourself first, when he was the one with a head injury!

“You idiot! You told me you were fine!”

The kakushi watched on in wide-eyed surprise (and slight fear as well) as the mighty Water Pillar looked everywhere else except at you, the fuming Thunder Pillar, who were scolding him (fairly lightly) for not telling you about his injuries.

Ayaka didn’t even argue with you afterwards.

Arriving at your estate after a mission used to be a nice moment for you, because you could rest and train at the comfort of your own home, but hearing the silent clunk of your keys resonate through the walls… you couldn’t help but feel a little cold and lonely.

It’s been a week since that mission with Giyuu back in Natagumo Mountain happened, and only a couple of hours since you left Ubuyashiki Tower. After your initial report to Oyakata-sama, he suggested that the two of you stay and take a few days off to heal your injuries at the medical floor. The two of you didn’t even resist as you were both led to adjacent rooms, showering immediately before dropping dead at the futon laid in your respective rooms. Now, you were as healthy as you could be, the laceration, bruises and scratches all healed thanks to the week of rest. Before you left, you made sure to inform the master of your recovery and thank Tanaka-san who took care of you and kept you company.

Taking off your blazer and loosening your blouse, you passed by your living room and walked into the kitchen to try and make something to appease the grumbling of your stomach. You did occasionally have your home cleaned on a schedule when you weren’t around, but moments like these were when you were a bit regretful of not hiring any at-home help.

The fridge was a welcome sight as you grabbed the handle to open the door; the contents however - or the lack thereof - weren’t as appealing because it was empty save for a wrinkled lemon, a few bottles of water, and a quarter-filled jug of milk.

“This is pathetic,” You grumbled as you recalled the moment you ate the last bit of leftovers without restocking your kitchen. Whyy.

“I hate myself,” you moaned to your empty kitchen.

Deciding to put yourself out of your misery, you walked up to your room to store your weapons and to change into a pair of jeans, and a hoodie. Once you were in something comfier, you grabbed your phone, your keys, your wallet, and a small nichirin dagger - for safety, at the off chance of getting ambushed by a demon or a human - and put on some white sneakers before locking your door and leaving your estate.

Taking a deep breath, you felt the cold night air nip at your lungs and the exposed skin of your face. The difference in temperature shook you a little, as you broke out into a jog. Pulling up your hood, you tug the strings tighter and into a cute little ribbon to prevent it from falling.

The walk to the convenience store would normally take fifteen minutes, but with you jumping on roofs and taking shortcuts you knew by heart, you were there in record time, and feeling hungrier than you did before.

The convenience store was a sight for sore eyes as the familiar ding sounded upon your entrance. Smiling at the clerk, you grabbed the largest basket and moved around the store, grabbing everything that looked appealing and piling them on as best as you can.

Once you were satisfied, you proudly walked back to the cashier and presented your precious loot to the boy in front of the register.

“Stocking up huh?” He smiled as he rang up your items.

“Yup. The lone lemon in my fridge was feeling a little lonely.” You joked as you grabbed your wallet.

The two of you chuckled as he bagged your food, pointing to the little screen of the cash register once it was done. “That would be 6,854 yen.” You gave a light nod and handed him a ten thousand yen bill. “Here, you can keep the change.”

His eyes bugged out of his sockets at the large tip “Yo, thanks, dude!”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed familiar black hair, and a quick glance behind you took you by surprise.

“Tomioka-san! Why are you here?” You asked in surprise.

He eyed your overflowing bag and your silly attire. “Same reason why you are.” He answered. At his surprisingly sarcastic response, you quickly pulled back your hoodie, and looked him over to note that he was in a similar attire to you, though he was wearing a sweater and a cap, instead. “Although i’m just getting dinner, not the entire store.”

The remark caused you to flush red in embarrassment. You didn’t want him—or anyone really!!—to see you pig out. “Oh, um. Well, I’m just… restocking.” He seemed skeptical, but there was a ghost of a smile settling on his face.

“Okay,” He said casually as he moved past you further into the store.

Nodding at the cashier and grabbing your bags with both hands, you walked after giyuu, instinct ruling over rational thought.

“Hey,” you called after him. He turned back to look at you, causing you to stutter in your words a little. Why did you call for him? What could you say to make him stay for a little bit without making yourself look like a total fool? “I—… um, i mean, uh would you like to share my loot? I think i just bought most of their stock, and I… still haven’t thanked you for saving my life back at Natagumo.”

He raised a brow at you. “Loot?”

“The food I got,” you mumbled as you dropped your gaze to the ground and felt your face burn at your choice of words, because who in the world calls their groceries ‘loot’, except you? Ah, how embarrassing!

While you were wallowing in your misery, you missed the way Giyuu turned his face away from you and the way his shoulders shook from containing his laughter. You just looked too cute, all flushed and flustered like that, but he did his best to hold it in because he didn’t think you’d appreciate him laughing in your face.

After a moment, he composed himself, and went back to his cool and normal facade before replying a short, “Okay.”

“Great!” You beamed at him, trying to squash the butterflies in your stomach. “Want to head outside for the tables?”

“Sure. Lead the way.”

Unconsciously, you grabbed his hand after moving your other bag. You didn’t notice his face warm at your casual touch, but the cashier did, and he gave a thumbs up to a flustered Giyuu as the two of you passed by.

“Ah shit. I forgot to get drinks!” You exclaimed as you rummaged through your bags.

Giyuu watched you with a small smile. “With the amount of food you bought, I’m surprised you didn’t raid their drinks too.” He was joking, but he really was surprised. It’s like you bought everything in the store - The two of you already ate two bento boxes each, five bread buns each, three rice balls each, and had a cup noodle… each.

There was even another bag of chips open at the table, and your bags were still full!

“Is that a joke I hear?” You smiled, leaning back in your chair as you popped a chip into your mouth. “Well I didn’t expect to meet you here. I was originally going to eat at home.”

He nodded before standing and stretching a little.“Don’t worry I got it.”

“Wai-“ you were going to hand him spare change, but he was already at the vending machine two houses down the street.

You sighed and used your hands to prop your head upright. How unfair.

As he inserted a few bills in the slot, you couldn’t help but admire his profile. You always noticed him back at work. He was extremely professional, nearly passive as he was assigned missions and at the rare times you catch him training at headquarters. But as the two of you were here together in a convenience store, all of it felt so… so normal. In this short moment, you could just pretend that demons weren’t real, that you still had a family waiting for you back home, that you were just a normal twenty-one year old woman hanging out with a friend from work who you wished was a little more than just a friend.

“Cheater.” You pouted as he walked back within hearing range.

He ignored you, passing you a bottle. “Here.”

“Thanks.” You said, taking the bottle and looking at the cover. “Oh! Yuzu Juice! I didn’t know I told you about my obsession with these.”

“You didn’t.” He answered taking a seat, as you rummaged through your pockets for a bit of change.

“Really? Huh.” You didn’t seem to notice how he scrunched his eyebrows and looked at the drink carefully.

Normally, buying a drink for someone wouldn’t be a big deal, but he didn’t just randomly guess. It was almost second nature for him to pick that drink. He could almost hear a voice in his head that sounded so much like you.

You couldn’t come with Giyuu to Natagumo Mountain because you were hurt pretty badly from the last mission you went to. He had come to visit you at the Butterly Estate.

“Why are you so excited about a fruit?” Giyuu asked incredulously, as your eyes shimmered at the basket of yuzu fruits he brought. “It’s just a fruit right?”

You gasped as you hugged the basket away from him. You looked so offended that Giyuu was taken aback for a second, halfway considering an apology.

“Just a fruit? JUST a fruit?” you gasped again, more dramatically than the last, but you don’t think Giyuu understands you’re pulling his leg because he looks even more worried. “Am I actually hearing this from my own lover?”

“Why? What’s so great about it?” he asked, but you don’t miss the hidden panic underneath his voice. “Am I missing something?”

“It’s a yuzu fruit, Giyuu,” you lean in and whisper, like the greatest of secrets were being shared between the two of you. “And do you know what that means?”

Giyuu shakes his head slowly, entranced. He leans in as you motion for him to come closer.

“It means,” you whisper, before pecking his cheek and grinning as he blushes. “We can make my favorite drink.”

You laugh as Giyuu groans, burying his face in his hands as he fell for another one of your stupid jokes.

“Don’t forget, Giyuu,” You toss him a yuzu fruit from the basket before leading him to the kitchen of the Butterfly Estate. Hopefully Aoi and the other girls wouldn’t mind if you borrowed it for a bit. “I can never turn down some good yuzu juice.”

Giyuu blinks, and suddenly he can’t remember what he was thinking about just a second before. He felt like he was forgetting something very, very important.

“I… just took a wild guess.” he muttered. There was no use pondering about it now, no matter how hard he tried to grasp at the straws of his memory.

“Well, you made a pretty good guess.” Placing a hand over the cap, you opened the bottle and took a hearty sip “Ah, I love this so much! Here’s my share.” You said, offering a hand with the money.

“Oh please, as if I can’t afford to get you juice. Think of it as thanks for sharing your food with me.”

“Okay then,” because If he wanted to treat you, who were you to argue?

“Meeting adjourned. Stay alert, the issues we’ve talked about will be sent later as a mission to some of you.” The room was once again bathed in light as Oyakata-sama pressed a button which shut down the projector and automatically drew the meeting room curtains back open. You and your fellow pillars stood as Amane-sama grabbed the handles of the master’s wheelchair. “I’ll be seeing all of you at the next meeting. Take care, my children.”

All of you bowed deeply as Amane-sama closed the door shut, before the nine of you stood from the chairs situated around the large table, moving to talk to the others.

“(F/N),” you immediately felt your heartbeat faster. You would’ve kicked yourself for reacting in such a way when he called for you, but damn it if it didn’t make you feel nice.

I think my heart is broken, what the hell.

“Ah, Giyuu, are we still on for training later?” you smiled politely at your co-worker, and Giyuu faltered for a second too fast for you to have noticed before he had already recomposed himself.

“Yes, but don’t expect me to pull my punches just because it’s training,” Giyuu felt the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly as he watched your face flush.

“I’ll have you know that I hardly break a sweat from fighting off demons alone, so I should be the one to tell you that,” your cheeks were puffed from indignation. The words pour out of you without thinking and you don’t even realize what you’re saying anymore. “Besides, when have you ever pulled your punches? You said you’d always spar with me using everything you had so I wouldn’t die out in-”

“What…?” Giyuu’s voice knocked you out of your rant. He had a funny look on his face, like you had said something odd. You immediately backtrack to your little spiel in search of something wrong - something embarrassing - you might’ve said. “When did I…?”

When has he ever pulled his punches? I mean, it’s true, I’m sure of that, but…?

You stop. How would you have known that? This was your first training session together. What were you going on about? By the thoughtful yet confused look on Giyuu’s face, you could tell the words had not gone unnoticed.

“N-nevermind that,” you tried to salvage your pride, despite your ever glowing face. “I, uh, I don’t know what I’m saying. Sorry, I just…”

“No, it’s fine,” Giyuu shook his head and waved away your apology. There was a pause before he seemed to make up his mind. “Actually I was—“

“Tomioka-san!” You and Giyuu jump as Shinobu suddenly pops up between the both of you. You’re confused whether to be thankful for her cutting in or not - on one hand, she had saved you from more embarrassment, but on the other, you wanted to know what Giyuu was going to say. “Sorry to cut your conversation short, but we need to borrow (F/N)-chan for a little bit. This won’t take long!”

Without even waiting for Giyuu to respond, Shinobu’s already dragging you away from the black haired male. You turn to look back at him apologetically.

“Sorry, I’ll meet you in the training hall,” you see him wave at you in goodbye before Shinobu makes you turn a corner and you both enter an empty meeting room. Well, it was mostly empty, save for a couple of people.

“So, Shinobu, Mitsuri… Uzui and Kyoujuro? What’s up...?” you ask hesitantly. You don’t like the knowing looks and the mischievous grins they have on their faces.

“You tell us.” You don’t like the glint in Shinobu’s eyes as she stares you down. “I don’t think we’ve ever seen Tomioka initiate a conversation on his own.”

“Or smile for that matter.” Mitsuri added, barely suppressing her grin. Shit, didn’t she live for this kind of thing? You were definitely fucked. You need to get out or you’re dead.

Uzui hummed before getting all up in your face, making you take an involuntary step back, but Kyoujuro blocks you from taking another step. You were surrounded on all sides. “Yeah, it was weird. Did you do anything flamboyant to him?”

“Excuse me?” Did they think you pulled some sort of magic trick over him? A sort of spell? “I did nothing!”

“Nothing, she said!” Mitsuri squealed, before turning back to you with eyes glittering. “Did you see the way he looked at you? He looked like he was on cloud nine!”

He… he did?

Brushing it off, you wave off their words, because the very thought of him being genuinely happy while talking to you made you ridiculously happy. And you didn’t want these idiots to see it. You were not going to give them the pleasure of seeing you turn into a bumbling, blushing mess.

“Oh, please, if anything It’s m-” You cut yourself off once you realized that finishing that sentence would lead to an entirely different ballpark you were not willing to enter. “You know what? Nevermind. Giyuu’s waiting for me so I have to go.”

“Oh, so it’s ‘Giyuu’ now huh?” You catch their words before you make up your mind to book it. You thought you were free because you only had to take one more step to get out of this cursed room, but a strong, yet slender hand darted out to grab your wrist, effectively preventing you from walking out of this room and out of this conversation.

“Nu-uh, not until you answer us,” Misturi grinned, locking you into a hug to make sure you didn’t try to run away again.

“Guys, I swear, we need to train.” you grumbled, feeling the sweat gathering over your forehead.

Uzui tsk-ed, and placed a hand over your shoulder. Great, just what you needed: another restraint. “Look, we’re just curious. Tomioka’s flamboyant, but he’s a pretty quiet guy so we’re worried for him.”

“Aw... well, tough shit, I’m going now.” You say, finally prying yourself free from Mitsuri’s soft albeit annoyingly strong grip.

“(F/N)-chan, you don’t have to deny it.” Placing a hand over your shoulder, Misuri smiled softly at you, and you didn’t like how you could practically see the hearts flying around her back.

“Deny what?” Maybe, if you acted like you had no idea what they were talking about, they would drop it, and you can leave, and you can train with Giyuu.

But such things in life would never happen, and you were doomed the very moment Shinobu snuck up on your conversation. You didn’t like the thought of him waiting for you while your coworkers hounded you.

The four of you turned when you heard a light sniffle come from Gyomei. “Ah, to be young and in love.”

“Wh-? No, it’s not like that at all!” you tried to defend yourself, but by the look on their faces you knew you were fighting a one-sided war. They were convinced there was something going on. To be honest, the more time you spent stuck in the room with them the more you were slowly coming to terms with your own feelings. And that was not good. “Besides, we only went on one job together, so why-”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve never heard of love at first sight~” Mitsuri giggled, and by the look on her face you had a guess she was already planning the wedding.

“Love at first sight, my ass,” you groaned, recalling your first assignment together. “He basically told me to shut up the first time I tried talking to him. What’s supposed to be cute about that?”

“The first time,” Shinobu emphasized, and you buried your face in your hands at her knowing smile. “But from what we just saw, not only did you talk again, but he even initiated the conversation himself.”

“Not to mention you’re going to be training together,” Kyoujuro nodded vehemently. “And as far as I can remember from my time as a Pillar, Tomioka has never trained with anyone because he preferred to train on his own.”

“And I guess now I’m never going to find out what training with him is like because you guys insist on keeping me here,” you were honestly proud of yourself that you haven’t punched someone yet - but you were oh so painfully close. If not one of them, then you might just punch yourself just to escape the shame. This felt oddly claustrophobic and it was making you slowly lose your mind. “Also, when have you guys turned into detectives?”

“(F/N)-san, we would’ve let you go already if you’d just admit what was going on between you and Tomioka,” you stared dumbfounded as they all nodded, waiting patiently for your answer.

If you guys think I’m going to crack first, you’re dead wrong.

“It’s nothing, okay?” you sighed, exhaustion over this whole ordeal finally setting in. Would you even be able to train with Giyuu like this? “He invited me to train with him after I almost messed up during our mission. That’s all there is. You guys have just been looking too much into it.”

The room goes quiet, the other Pillars taking turns to look at one another, unsure of where to go from there. You shake your head as you pass by them and make your exit.

“NO! I refuse to believe that!”

Oh my god, no, please.

You look incredulously at Mitsuri as she blocks the door in front of you. You feel your eyes twitch sporadically, your hand that was already holding on to the doorknob tightening and your knuckles going white.

“Mitsuri, come on,” you groan. You weren’t too keen on saying anything (too) bad at the pink haired girl since she was honestly really nice, just ever so slightly airheaded, and getting into bad terms with her husband Obanai didn’t sound too appealing. “What more do you want from me?”

“How about the flamboyant truth, (F/N)?” your head whipped back at lightning speed at Uzui, who merely laughed at the dead-eyed smile you gave him.

“What ‘truth’? I already told you guys, I-”

“(F/N)-san, one last thing,” your head turns to Kyoujuro, who shares a look with Shinobu. You watch as something passes between them, before the Insect Pillar nods back at him with a sweet smile. Kyoujuro grins as he turns back to you. “Just do this one thing for us and I promise we’ll let you out.”

Shit. I don’t like that.

But you stand your ground. “And that would be…?”

“Can you look into my eyes and tell me that there’s nothing going on between you?” he raised an eyebrow, challenging you with his wide eyes that seemed to stare deep into your soul.

You lower your head, mentally preparing yourself. You pray to whatever higher being that could hear you to give you the strength to get through this unscathed.

Please, for the love of my sanity-

You look back to Kyoujuro, head held high. He holds your stare - his eyes were intimidating as hell - but to your relief, he backs off first after a good few seconds. He sighs, as does Shinobu.

“Fine, fine. You win, (F/N)-san,” Shinobu grumbles.

“For now,” Uzui throws you a mischievous grin as you pass by. You scowl at him.

“Whaaaaat? We’re letting her go?” Mitsuri wailed as Kyoujuro practically pried her off of the door.

“A deal’s a deal, Mitsuri-san,” Kyoujuro said.

You’ve barely taken a step out the door when a hand is placed over your shoulder. You don’t bother to turn around, scared you really might punch someone this time.

“(F/N), one last thing,” Sighing, you turn back heavily, because it feels like they’ll never let you leave, but when you see Gyomei smiling kindly at you, you can’t help but return it too. “Remember, there is no shame in admitting your feelings. Face them head on and find strength within it. You can only run from your problems for so long until you loop back to where you started, because you can never stop things that were set in stone by fate.”

Despite how drained you were feeling, you manage a genuine smile. “Understood, guys.”

Letting out a sigh, you were finally able to breathe after your nosy coworkers got all up in your business. You were glad that you were alone in the elevator, because at least now you could take a moment to compose yourself and get rid of the blazing blush before you faced Giyuu.

“Can you look into my eyes and tell me that there’s nothing going on between you?”

Kyojuro’s words echo in your head. You were unbelievably lucky for being able to keep your poker face before he cracked, because if that stare-down lasted a second longer, you would’ve burst, and confessed your feelings to them instead of Giyuu.

Snapping out of your thoughts, the doors opened to a bright wide room that smelled of wood and steel. The training hall was one of the many floors in the building and the Corps spared no expense in getting it look as it did with high ceilings, and large areas divided into varying sizes. Some areas were even designed after different types of terrain.

You spot Giyuu with his back to you, warming up in the center on the biggest mat of the entire hall. He was doing practice swings with a wooden sword.

“Hey, sorry I'm late,” You say, causing him to pause mid-swing as he turns to see you grabbing a wooden sword on the far wall and depositing your own blade beside his. He watched, slightly mesmerized as you gathered your hair into a high ponytail on top of your head. “Want to get started?”

He shook off his daze before he raised a brow at you, setting his sword tip down against the ground and leaning a bit of his weight over it. “You’re not going to warm up?”

Smirking, you say “Oh please, this is my warm-up.” You don’t give him a chance to reply as you move straight for him, sword held high.

In one effortless swoop, Giyuu had his sword in front of him blocking your swing with ease. “That’s cheating, in case you weren’t aware.”

“I know.” You smiled, before retracting and swinging again. “But I prefer to call it strategy.”

“Haaaa,” You breathed out before dropping on the floor. “I’m glad we’re on the same team. Fighting you is crazy exhausting.”

Walking towards you, he offered you a water bottle and once you took it, he sat down beside you. He was so close, you could feel the warmth radiate off him. “Likewise. You’re ridiculously fast.”

“And you’re ridiculously strong.” You smiled, taking a sip from the bottle he gave you.

The two of you were quiet, keeping each other company as the other regained their breath. In the silence, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander back to the conversation back in the meeting room.

“I don’t think we’ve ever seen Tomioka initiate a conversation on his own.”

“Did you see the way he looked at you? He looked like he was on cloud nine!”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve never heard of love at first sight~”

“But from what we just saw, not only did you talk again, but he even initiated the conversation himself.”

“As far as I can remember from my time as a Pillar, Tomioka has never trained with anyone because he preferred to train on his own.”

“Remember, there is no shame in admitting your feelings. Face them head on and find strength within it. You can only run from your problems for so long until you loop back to where you started, because you can never stop things that were set in stone by fate.”

All of their words passed by your head like a snapshot. It was slightly disorienting hearing the others comment on your relationship with the Water Pillar. You liked him, but you already planted it in your head that you had no chance. Because who were you kidding? One look at him, and you knew that you were out of his league. He was good-looking (though that was more of a bonus than anything), dedicated, strong, and had a dry sense of humor that could rival your own. A guy like that was bound to have someone waiting for him at home. He was too much of a catch for you to believe otherwise.

“(F/N)?”

“Yeah?” you hum distractedly, still completely submerged into your own head.

“Do you-” He started, and abruptly, your bubble of fantasies popped.

He was looking at you weirdly, an expression you’ve never seen him make, and somehow your mind managed to mix that up with him being able to read your thoughts. You just panicked, your mouth spouting off nonsense before you could process anything, trying in vain to protect yourself from rejection. “No! I don’t like you!”

“Oh.” He looked back at his folded hands before adding a short “I’m sorry.”, before you realized what you just said. Regret immediately washed over you.

“No, I mean, I don’t not like you, I-I’m not making any sense-”

He interrupted you gently before standing up and dusting off his clothes. “No, it’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself. I understand. Sorry if you felt forced to train with me.”

Oh my god, you’ve never wanted to slap yourself harder in your life than you did in this moment.

You fucked up. You fucked up so bad.

You reach for him, trying to explain, “Wait, don’t misunderstand please, I was jus-”

“Really, it’s fine. I know I'm not the easiest person to like. Especially with how I treated you back on our first mission.”

“Giyu-”

“I’ll be leaving now (L/N)-san. I’m sorry again.”

And that was the last straw. Hearing him call out your name in such a cold voice hit you so deeply that you tell the consequences to fuck off as you stand up, and pull him back to you.

“(L/N)-san, I swear, it’s fine-” Neither of you get to hear how he ends his sentence, because you grab his shirt, and pull him closer, until your lips were pressed against his.

You felt your resolve crumble as your lips moved against his own, and as his hands reached over, cradling your face closer to his. It was so soft, so warm, and your heart ached as you felt your eyes start to sting. After a moment, the two of you pull away, bringing your foreheads close, before you spiral into a wild spiel.

“You idiot! If you would just listen!” You whisper lightly, afraid of what his reaction would be. “I like you. I really, really like you. I didn’t mean what I said. I only said that because you caught me off guard and I didn’t think you’d like me back! I’m scared of being rejected by you because you're smart, you're funny, you're nice… ”

“I didn't want to tell you but I got caught up in my thoughts, and I just… I know what I said, and I’m sorry, I'm really sorry. It might sound like an excuse to you, but you really did catch me off guard. If I could take it back I would.”

“I’m really sorry, Gi...Tomioka-san. I hope you could forgive me.” You say, before you untangle your arms wrapped around his neck, and walk yourself to the elevator, not even waiting for the inevitable rejection you’d get from him.

Pushing the doors open, you didn’t notice how the other pillars - namely Mitsuri, Shinobu, Kyojuro, and Uzui - were still situated around the room, because your only goal now was to get the bag you left earlier, leave straight for your home, and sleep.

When they saw your puffy eyes however, all of them looked amongst each other, before pushing Mitsuri closer towards you.

“(F/N)-chan, are you okay?” At Mitsuri’s soft voice, you jumped out of your skin, cradling your bag to your chest as a shield.

“W… What are you guys still doing here?” You ask, before furiously wiping at your eyes.

“You’re avoiding our question. Why are you crying?” Normally, you would’ve brushed them off, and replied in a snarky comment, but you were tired, and you just wanted your bed.

“I... Tomioka and I got into a little fight, is all.” You replied, not even looking up from fixing up your bag.

Mitsuri immediately looked back at the others upon hearing you say ‘Tomioka’, before rubbing your back consolingly. “Do you want to tell us what happened?”

You sniffed. “No, not really. I’m just tired and I want to go home.”

A quick look passed between Mtsuri and Kyojuro before the Flame Hashira walked over to you.

“And home you shall go! C’mon, (F/N), I’ll drive you back.” Kyojuro said, grabbing a hold of your bag while Misturi took your hand, leading the two of you after Kyojuro. “Yeah! I’ll make you some pancakes, and lots of other food!”

Once the three of you left, Shinobu looked up at Uzui, and nodded.

Shinobu and Uzui found Giyuu splayed back at the center training mat.

For a good second the pair thought that the Water Pillar had fainted, or something of the same degree. But upon getting closer, they noticed him looking up, dazed, with a hand over his lips. Making their way over, they sat at either side of him, waiting for him to acknowledge their presence.

“What are you two even doing here.” Giyuu blinked as he realized he wasn’t alone in the room anymore. They were looking down at him with a mix of surprise and amusement. “Did you just come to stare at me?”

“We should be the one asking you that,” two seconds into talking to Giyuu and he was already testing Shinobu’s patience. “(F/N) went back to the meeting room.”

“Yeah. She was crying flamboyantly, by the way.” Uzui nodded briskly, arms crossed and eyes closed in thought.

Giyuu couldn’t deny how his chest had tightened at the memory of you walking out earlier, “I know.”

When he didn’t speak for another few seconds, clearly having no plans to elaborate until prodded, Shinobu sighed. “Care to tell us what happened?”

Do I have to…? Giyuu scowled softly. But he might as well, since he was lost ever since you left, with no clue what to do next.

“... She told me she didn’t like me, so I apologized and moved to leave,” Giyuu’s voice was no louder than a whisper, as if he was scared someone would overhear. But the other Pillars heard him nonetheless. “But then she kissed me and told me she liked me before leaving me here.”

Shinobu would be lying if she didn’t admit she felt victorious. So you were lying. HA! But that’s a conversation for another time. Right now, you left the other half of the party lying down on the training room floor and it seemed they needed to drag him back to his feet if they wanted a straight answer from you.

“And? How do you feel about that?” Shinobu poked the side of Giyuu’s cheek, but it’s like the male was still lost somewhere they couldn’t reach as he failed to give the slightest reaction besides words.

“Confused.” Giyuu muttered mostly to himself. “Really confused.”

“I feel like there’s a flamboyant ‘But’ in there...?” Uzui honestly felt like he was getting his child to admit what he did wrong - except he had no child, he was talking to the Water Pillar, a grown man who should’ve been easy getting answers from.

Giyuu’s eyes softened at the idea of you, and the kiss from earlier, and the look didn’t exactly escape the surrounding Pillars. “I like her too. A lot.”

Shinobu suddenly stood up, surprising both males. “Well, then, you’ve got your answer. So what are you lying around here for?”

“She left, I doubt she wants to speak with me now,” Giyuu muttered, disheartened - which was the exact opposite of what Shinobu wanted to achieve.

She remembered something odd she noticed when you had left earlier, so she looked around the room and felt like she struck gold.

“Oh, she did leave, it’s definitely too late for that,” Shinobu says, brushing aside Giyuu’s sarcastic “gee, thanks”. “But I have a hunch that she’ll be returning soon.You’ll just have to wait.”

Shinobu pointed to the far end of the training room, forcing Giyuu to muster the energy to sit up to see where she was pointing to. There on the wall was your Nichirin blades among the rack of extra training swords.

“I can’t believe how stupid I am today.” You grumbled before exiting the elevator.

You were on your way home with Mitsuri and Kyojuro, when you noticed that the sword strapped to your waist wasn’t your nichirin blade, but the wooden one from the training hall. Kyojuro was nice enough to turn the car around back to the building, and pressed the hazard button on the car as he pulled up in front of Ubuyashiki tower.

“Take your time (F/N)-san, Mitsuri-san and I will wait here.” Lightly, you smile at him before grabbing the wooden sword and going into the building.

And this is where you find yourself. You were back in the training hall, warm orange light filtering through the large windows as the sun began to set. You were glad you noticed your missing sword when you did because not being prepared for a mission could cost someone’s life. Running your fingers through the wall, you open the lights and feel a slight disappointment at how empty the hall was of people - or rather one raven-haired male.

You messed up once already, (F/N). Why add to that by wishing he was here?

Letting out a sigh, you move to the wall, to where your sword was supposed to be, and jump out of your skin when you notice the Water Pillar leaning over and facing away from you towards the window.

Of course. Of-fucking-course. Because why not?

Quietly, and in hopes to avoid him seeing you, you creeped carefully along the wall, clutching your nichirin blade to your chest, as you exchanged it with the wooden sword. You turn around, thankful that he didn’t seem to notice your presence before walking to the ele-

“Why did you leave earlier?” He asks, not moving an inch from his position.

Of course he noticed you.

“I didn’t think any of us had anything else to say.” you fiddle with the blade in your hands, refusing to turn and face him. Your hands haven’t shook this much in years, the last time being when you had first fought a demon.

“Well, I had something to say,” You cringe as he turned to you, his face as beautifully stoic as you had always known.

Okay, wow. You knew he had a bit of a mean streak going on, one that died down when it came to talking to you but you didn’t really think he was mean enough to roast you for having a stupid crush. Sure, you did accidentally say you didn’t like him, but that was a lie - obviously, since you kissed him like the suicidal dumbass that you were.

“Well, I’m here now, so we might as well rip the bandaid,” you say that, but as his eyes bore into your own, you realize that you’re not ready for what he has to say and you cut in as he opens his mouth. “Before you say anything though, I just wanted to say that I completely understand if you want to stay away from me and-”

As you rambled on, you didn’t notice him walk closer. Giyuu had a determined look on his face as he grabbed onto your hands that were nervously playing with your sword, and held them in his own, softly running a thumb over your knuckles. You immediately drag your gaze from the floor and into his eyes, seeing warmth and gentleness in his blue irises.

Giyuu’s eyes never leave yours, even as he asks, “I do have something to say… If you would listen?”

You swallowed, your mouth feeling dry, as you give him a slight nod.

He breathes deeply before he speaks. “I’ll admit. I don’t really care what others think of me, as long as I’m doing my job and they’re doing theirs. I’m used to people saying I’m cold, and unlikable, but for the past few weeks, I found your company comforting, and I thought that we’ve been genuinely getting along with each other. So when you said you didn’t like me when I was going to ask if you wanted to have another match, I was really confused and hurt.”

“I’m sorry-” You interrupt, before he shakes his head and asks you to let him finish.

“So, I was really surprised when you pulled me back and kissed me. Then you go off telling me that you like me, not even 5 minutes after you told me you didn’t, and then you leave, not even letting me process anything, or telling you what I had to say.”

Giyuu stops for a moment, opening his eyes and looking deep into yours. He seemed to debate something for a moment before he decided, and took a short breath.

“If you would have waited, I would have told you that I like you too.” Your knees felt absolutely weak as he placed his forehead over yours. You could feel the rough calluses on his hands as he squeezed yours softly.

“You would have?” You ask. He nods. “Do you really?”

Your heart melts when you see his face change into a soft smile, a smile he only put on for you. “I do. I really like you (F/N).”

It felt so surreal hearing him say that he liked you too. You felt like you could fly.

“I like you too.” A small watery laugh bubbles up from your throat, and a warm giddy feeling swirls around your stomach, easily replacing the heavy feeling of regret.

You could feel the tears fall from your eyes and the blood rush to your face. You pull your hands off from his as you use it to cover the raging blush on your cheeks. “Ugh, stop making me cry. This has to be the most I've ever cried in my life.”

“And it’s the most I’ve ever been confused in mine too… but I hope it’s happy tears now?” He takes both of your hands into his left, using his other to wipe at the tears and cradle your face, like you were a priceless jewel.

“Yeah,” You hum, moving closer and letting his left hand release your hands as his arm wraps around your waist. He pulls you closer and you revel in his warmth. “Can you say it again?”

“I like you.” His smile grows fonder as you lean into his touch, and wrap your arms around his shoulders. Giyuu has never felt so content in his life.

“Again?”

“I really, really like you.” He says softly, and your mouth stretches into a smile that mirrors his.

“Prove it?” You ask, faintly hinting at what you wanted him to do as your faces move closer and closer until you were an inch apart and could feel his breath fan over your face.

“Okay,” He whispers, before he finally leaned in and kissed you again.

BONUS:

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Obanai groaned as he rolled over in the large training room floormat. You might have used wooden sticks, but it still hurt like hell.

“I didn’t know the training room floor was so cozy,” Muichiro mused, staring up at the ceiling as he was splayed on the ground. “I don’t think I’ve ever been knocked down before. (F/N)-san, help me sit up. My spine feels tingly ever since you hit me.”

You laughed sheepishly, crouching beside the Mist Pillar before helping him sit up. Giyuu, on the other hand, was standing over Obanai, looking down at the Serpent Pillar with a bored gaze.

“You told me not to hold back,” Giyuu deadpanned, bi-colored irises glaring at him from below.

Word had travelled fast that you and Giyuu were going out. And of course, since you had always been dragged into the Pillars’ shenanigans, you had decided it was time that Giyuu be a part of the group. So to warm up a bit to the idea of having him around, you had offered the idea to have a training session with everyone, doing pair up battles to save time and promote teamwork. They agreed, since they have never seen Giyuu train with you, much less have trained with him themselves.

But the idea backfired hard.

“Tomioka and (L/N) win,” Gyomei announces, a small smile on his face. He looked amused more than anything. “That’s 3 wins.”

You decided the pairs by letting four people write their names on scraps of paper and letting the other four pick from the pile. Gyomei had decided to sit this one out and be the moderator, so the numbers balanced out. And since Giyuu was the so-called “guest of honor”, the others had allowed him to pick first.

“You guys rigged it. I know you fucking did,” Sanemi grumbled.

Giyuu had miraculously pulled out your name from the pile. Sure, there were only four names, but it was still a one-out-of-four odds.

“You can check if you want, Sanemi,” you sighed in exasperation. “I didn’t do shit to that paper.”

“Bullshit,” he roughly grabs the scrap from Giyuu and inspects it, the other Pillars laughing as he nitpicks your paper.

You stand next to Giyuu, who was leaning on a wall away from the Pillars, and ask in a soft voice so no one else could hear. “Alright. How’d you do it?”

You see him smile for a fraction of a second from the corner of your eye. “You press down on your pen too much when you write, so I just felt around for the paper that had the most indentations.”

“How the fuck…?” Sanemi exclaimed, and you laughed again.

“You’re so amazing!” Mitsuri squealed, bounding up to the training room floor and glomping you. “You guys worked together flawlessly! ”

“That’s putting it too lightly,” Uzui laughed. “They flamboyantly wiped us out.”

“Yes! Truly amazing!” Kyoujuro nodded. “I’m aware of both of your prowess, but this was truly overwhelming.”

“You fuckers cheated!” Sanemi growled, walking over to the training room floor and pointing his wooden sword at the two of you. “How did you-”

“Your attacks are mostly mid level swings, aimed at the stomach,” Giyuu answers passively as he sits down beside you and Muichiro on the floor.

“Wh…?” For the first time, Sanemi is caught off guard, and so are the other Pillars, but you nod at Giyuu’s words. You don’t notice how they stared at the both of you weirdly.

“Yeah, you do,” you laugh softly, before making a slow sweeping motion with your wooden sword, Giyuu parrying it once it’s within his distance. “You swing, and then when your opponent curls up, either from pain or to try and dodge, you go for a thrust.”

When you stop talking, you and Giyuu turn to the other Pillars, who were mostly looking at you with gaped mouths. Shinobu and Kyoujuro had frozen smiles on their faces and Obanai and Sanemi were looking at you like you had force fed them rotten food.

Was it something you said…?

“Hey, (F/N)-chan,” Shinobu suddenly cut in through the silence, smiling as pleasant as ever. “How did you beat me? Tomioka-san uses hard force to deflect but-”

“You usually do thrusts. I guess because of your sword style, right?” you answer, almost impulsively. “It ends up leaving too many openings, especially if someone hits you from the side.”

“You only do slashes when you’re close enough,” Giyuu adds. “But you thrust when you’re too far away because it helps with your speed and momentum.”

You blink again, the room coming into view again, and find the others staring at you, more confused than anything.

“Tomioka-san? (F/N)-chan?” Shinobu asked, the smile gone. Shit, did you say something you shouldn’t have? “What are you talking about…? I only use a revolver because it carries my poisons better. My sword is usually reserved as a last resort, but I haven’t used it in a long time. I was a bit off today since I’m not used to it anymore, but...”

“Not to mention,” Sanemi grumbles to the side, looking at the both of you suspiciously. “I haven’t gone on any fucking mission with you guys. How the hell do you know how I fight? You stalkers, or something?”

You turn to Giyuu, and he turns to you with a confused look that probably mirrored your own. The other Pillars stared, waiting for your answer. But you blanched.

How the fuck do I answer that?

Finally, Giyuu breaks the stare and turns to the other Pillars, “Mission and Training videos.”

You blinked. And so did the others. Every single one of you had the same confused looks on your faces.

Mission and training… videos?

“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of them?” Giyuu raised an eyebrow at the Pillars, who looked at one another, expecting someone to know. He sighs as he points up at a surveillance camera at the corner of the training room. “They’re a collection of videos in the Corps archives, mostly of the Pillars during joint training sessions or battles with the Twelve Demon Moons. They’re captured using the crow-drones or the cameras scattered inside and around the building. Demon Slayers can ask to view them for educational purposes, like learning a new breathing technique.”

You gape at Giyuu and Pillars in turn, a frown slowly etching over your face. Something told you that wasn’t the whole truth. Maybe the videos were real, but on how you knew about the other’s battle styles, well…

“There’s such a thing…?” Shinobu mutters thoughtfully, looking at you and Giyuu.

Uh-oh, looks like she doesn’t buy it.

“EEK!” Mitsuri suddenly exclaims, and Shinobu and the others jump from the shrill sound. “What if my videos are super embarrassing? I have to check!”

And she’s out the door, followed closely by Obanai who was trying to reassure her that it was okay. You’re rather surprised Obanai got up so quickly when he was just on the floor earlier.

“Shit like that exists? And I’m only finding out about this now?” Sanemi grumbled, his aura carefully getting angrier and angrier. “What if the fucking demons get a hold of those videos?”

Sanemi was out the door in the next second, yelling about giving away the corps’ battle strategies. Kyoujuro and Uzui followed, interested about seeing the videos. Gyomei took Muichiro to the clinic with Shinobu. The Insect Pillar cast you a questioning look before trailing behind the Stone and Mist Pillars.

And then it was just you and Giyuu again.

“Giyuu?” you called out softly in the silence. When you hear him hum, signalling that he was listening, you push on. “I’ve never seen those videos before. I didn’t even know they existed.”

You turn to him when he lets out a soft laugh, “I haven’t either. I read about them in a report a long time ago, but I never felt the need to see them.”

Wordlessly, Giyuu lies back down on the training mat, arms crossed behind his head. He stares up at the ceiling, looking deep in thought. There’s a question at the tip of your tongue, something you’ve always wanted to ask, but could never muster the strength to actually say outloud.

“It’s odd. Shinazugawa was right. I’ve never been assigned to go on a mission with him,” Giyuu started, still staring up at the ceiling, seemingly muttering to himself. “But I knew how he was going to move. It was almost like-”

“Like you’ve fought with him before?” you finished, and you turned to Giyuu to find his eyes already staring deep into your’s.

“That’s the thing, though,” Giyuu scowled, your image blurring at the edges. Was that a kimono you were wearing? “I’ve never trained with any of them before today. But it felt like I knew what to do. Like I’ve seen it before. Not in a video, though.”

“More like muscle memory,” you mumble, lost in Giyuu’s eyes. Has his hair always been that long? “Like my body already knew how to move on its own.”

The silence stretched on, but it was almost like time had stopped for the both of you.

“I’m not ready,” you sighed shakily, your hands wringing around as you paced in the room before the Ubayishiki garden. You could hear the yells and grunts of your fellow Pillars, mixed in with the clash of swords. “Sanemi always looks at me like I’m a demon and I think this is his chance of actually cutting my head off.”

“Relax, (F/N),” Giyuu sighed, taking your hands into his and rubbing them, trying to get the blood circulating again. “On the bright side, at the very least, he still sees you. I think he sees me as an annoying fly.”

You manage a shaky laugh, and Giyuu takes it as a small victory before making you look him in the eye.

“You’ll be fine, but if you need help,” he smiles softly and you don’t miss the mischief in his eyes. “These are just some things I’ve noticed when he tries to attack me…”

You blink, and you're back in the training room. Where were you just now? There wasn’t a room like that in the whole building. It was old, like the traditional Japanese houses you’d see on T.V. and books. But Giyuu was there, and so were you and the other Pillars, apparently. Your eyes find Giyuu’s face again, and he looks just as confused. Did he see that, too…?

“You know, (F/N), there have been moments where I feel like I’ve seen them happen before, especially when I’m with you,” Giyuu starts hesitantly. You wouldn’t think it weird, would you? “I know for a fact they haven’t, Shinazugawa and Kocho was proof of that, but they just feel so real. And I couldn’t explain them.”

You think of his words for a second - they were exactly what you felt - and nod for him to continue. “But now I wonder - I always push them away because I don’t remember them happening, but now that I think about it, just because they haven’t happened from what I remember, doesn’t mean they never happened, at all.”

“Don’t remember...but doesn’t mean they never happened…?” you whisper, the question you’ve wanted to ask threatening to break out. But looking at Giyuu’s eyes, the wall you’ve been building around to keep your thoughts in place are broken down. “...Like in another life...?”

The question hangs in the air for another second before Giyuu’s face breaks into a small smile and he lets out a small laugh. He turns away from you, and you’re left confused all over again.

“You should see the look on your face right now,” he says, and you turn red at the realization he’s laughing at you. “It’s priceless. Sorry, but you’re really cute.”

“You…!” you tackle him, straddling him and lifting him by the collar of his shirt. “Were you just making fun of me?”

Giyuu stares at you fondly, basically confirming your question. Your blush gets darker as you stand up wordlessly and pack up your belongings. You couldn’t believe he was just pulling your leg! And you fucking fell for it!

Your cheeks are puffed up in anger as you walk out of the training room. You hear Giyuu’s footsteps and his voice calling out for you, but you don’t make the effort to let him know you noticed him.

When you step out of the building, Giyuu finally catches up to you, holding on to your hand.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he said. You frown at him hard and he responds by raising his free hand in surrender. “I really am. Sorry for laughing.”

You pout, before returning his grip. You suppress laughing at the relieved look on his face. “You’re paying for dinner, I’ll have you know.”

The two of you walk in tranquil silence on your way to your favorite restaurant. You don’t notice Giyuu’s loving stare as you walk hand in hand. For a second, you’re both walking back from a mission. Your kimono and uniform were battered pretty bad, and you had a bruise at the corner of your mouth, but you look up at him and smile.

You turn to Giyuu in surprise when he suddenly squeezes your hand. “Giyuu…?”

“If it really was another life,” he whispers, and you had half a mind to tell him off for trying to pull your leg again. But at the misty look in his eyes - the same one you stared at earlier in the training room - you shut your mouth. “I’m glad I found you again.”

You smile softly, squeezing his hand back. “Yeah, me, too.”

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