SUMMARY: For as long as she remembers, the rain has been Beca’s best friend. She has always looked for comfort in it, especially when new feelings find her heart.
***
Dark and grey. Heavy, building tension as the minutes go by and bringing anticipation for the water that will fall at any time. It’s silent, though. Comes in barely audible whispers, a silent bomb about to explode. Somewhat peaceful.
That’s what the sky looks like now, but Beca doesn’t walk faster. She enjoys the weather, the weird, charged calmness of the moment. The first raindrops reach her cheeks right after she turns the left at the end of Barden University. It’s cold and she shivers, lifting a hand to tuck rebel curls behind her ear as her head bobs down so the water doesn’t fall to her eyes.
She knew it was coming. Felt it in the dry air this morning, through the birds flying away, all in the same direction. It isn’t bad, though. A good cleaning to the soul, Beca thinks, although she should have been better prepared, because her all stars are soaked and she can feel the cold wind through her thin sweater.
this still is the only space i have to write and it’s my birthday and i’ve been reflecting so here it goes
thanks to taylor swift back in 2023, i met the love of my life who is my beautiful, most thoughtful and sweet girlfriend. it’s been the most amazing year and a half experiencing love by her side, in a way i never knew was possible. it was amazing to, after so many years of watching people’s love on each other and reading what it was about in books, have it finally happening to me.
it’s been a year and a half. she has met my mother, my brothers, my stepfather. she has met my friends and my godchildren, a good part of my family. i’ve traveled to her place and met her friends.
but, her parents don’t know yet.
i know some people might think “wow, not her exposing her girlfriend!” but honestly, i just want to share that love will always be stronger than anything. it’s so hard to come from a religious and conservative family. until she has enough money to sustain herself, coming out can be a problem, for she still depends on them. to know a parent might turn their backs on a daughter who has been nothing but selfless, an amazing student, with an amazing heart, purely because of her sexuality is something i will never understand.
her not telling them has nothing to do with me, or how much she loves me and it’s a process that i don’t have a say. i’ve had my own process of acceptance. my family knows and the most important people in my life support me. that’s really all i need.
and although she isn’t out yet, i remembered as i was cleaning my room earlier today, her family knows who i am. her grandmother picked seashells for me in the beach last year. her mother face-timed me to say merry christmas. “you can stay at ginny’s since you’re going to her city”, she suggested. they know who i am. and that is enough.
coming out is scary and hard. i’ve been there, too, and i was scared to let the words out. so, happy pride month especially to you, who isn’t out yet. my heart goes out to you in this journey, but i hope you don’t refrain from living a love because of that.
it’s been the most beautiful half a year of my life. i respect her time and process, and the right time will come 🤍
SUMMARY: It doesn’t matter how the kid became a girl, because this is a story of how the girl became a woman.
NOTES: Not a new fic, but I’ve been editing my old fics and want to add them here, so I can have them all in my “my stuff” tag.
***
To pursue your dreams is hard. Beca knew it when she left everything behind and moved to L.A. to try and become a successful music producer. She just had no idea of how hard it was going to be. It’s fucking exhausting and makes it so difficult to have any hopes at all.
Her job as an intern on a label and dj-ing at clubs here and there are barely enough to help her best friend pay the bills of their shared apartment, so Beca’s only choice is to look for another job.
But working from midday to eight in the night has Beca realizing she has no time to actually look for an extra job, since she obviously needs to sleep and to work on her mixes in the free time she still gets in the mornings and late at night.
“I can find you a job!” Stacie tells her.
“Oh, that’s awesome!” Beca grabs her bag and runs downstairs, almost falling on her ass when she misses the last step. “Anything music related. A radio station or another label, I don’t care. But it has to involve music.” Beca opens the door, stumbling on her own feet. She absolutely hates being late and having to leave on a rush. “Thanks, Stace!”
The way Cait says mongoose is so fucking funny.
"You look.. like an angry oil slick." that was her best attempt at a comeback and she had to think about it a little bit fasdjk I love her.
Also can we talk about the fact Vi awakened her girlfriend like a fucking sleeper agent with the activation phrase "cupcake." GIRL YOU ARE EMBARRASSING YOURSELF. That was ALL it took lmao. I feel bad for Maddie at this point.
a little bit of hurt/comfort before we jump into act 3
also on ao3
* * *
It was after everything.
After Caitlyn and Vi stumbled their way back topside, Vi’s head pounding and Caitlyn’s leg wound reopened. After Caitlyn insisted on going to the destroyed council chambers before seeking help for herself. After they’d found the battered corpse of Cassandra Kiramman, already retrieved from the rubble and covered in white sheets. After Caitlyn’s anguished cry, her knees giving out, shaking in Vi’s arms as her wide eyes stared unblinkingly at the still face of her mother’s body. After patch-ups and funeral preparations and weak attempts at recuperating.
At the end of everything, it was this:
Caitlyn and Vi, lying on Caitlyn’s bed in the first inklings of dawn, the morning of the funeral. Vi’s arms wrapped tightly around Caitlyn’s body, Caitlyn’s head heavy on her shoulder. They’re still, have been still for a long time now, but Vi knows Caitlyn isn’t asleep by the way her hands remain tightly twisted in the fabric of her shirt.
A glance down reveals exactly what Vi expected to see: Caitlyn’s eyes, red and wide open, staring numbly out the window.
Caitlyn hadn’t slept a wink last night. Vi hadn’t faired much better, snapping herself awake every time she felt herself doze off, unwilling to leave Caitlyn alone for even a second.
They hadn’t been doing a lot of that the past few days. Sleeping. Or leaving each other alone.
 The first meager sunbeam manages to break through the haze of clouds outside, dimly flickering against the foot of the bed. Vi moves for the first time in hours; a twitch of her fingers against Caitlyn’s back, brushing gently against shoulder blades.
Caitlyn’s breathing changes, deepens ever so slightly, and Vi knows she’s registered the touch.
“When do you have to get up?” Vi asks, voice scratchy and quiet. The question is too loud for the silence of the bedroom, but Caitlyn doesn’t flinch like she’d feared she would.
“Soon,” Caitlyn answers, her own voice hoarse. Vi continues with her fingers’ movements, tracing down her spine and back up; anywhere she can reach without moving her arm. “The staff will start setting up in an hour, and then people will arrive, and then…”
She doesn’t need to go on, Vi knows what comes next, they’ve gone over it, though she hadn’t been involved in the planning at all: then the service will start, and Caitlyn will have to say goodbye to her mother whether she’s ready to or not.
What bittersweet agony it must be, to get one last proper goodbye with your family in the company of strangers. To get a last goodbye at all.
Vi keeps moving her fingers. Up to Caitlyn’s arm now, skimming the skin beneath her short sleeve. Caitlyn’s fist tenses in its hold on Vi’s shirt briefly before relaxing, releasing the fabric and splaying her fingers against Vi’s stomach, as flat as they can be.
There are words caught in Vi’s throat. Words she’s said, words she hasn’t. What can I do, how can I help, are you sure you’re up for this?
I’m sorry. About your mother. For stopping you.
She swallows them down, shifts on the bed until Caitlyn is pulled even closer to her, legs tangling and face tucked into the crook of her neck, breaths puffing softly against her skin. Vi reaches up to cover the hand on her stomach, pulls it to her chest, and feels relieved at the small squeeze Caitlyn gives her fingers.
Vi doesn’t know how to navigate this. This new, grief-stricken Caitlyn. Has never known how to deal with her own grief, frankly. She can’t tell if she’s helping or hurting, but Caitlyn hasn’t told her to go away yet, so she figures she must be doing some amount of good.
Caitlyn takes a deep breath, eyelashes fluttering against Vi’s skin as her eyes finally shut for a moment. “I’ll need to check on my father first,” she murmurs. “Make sure he’s awake. Presentable.” She pauses. “Sober enough.”
The ghost of Tobias Kiramman has haunted the Kiramman manor since the explosion, drifting in and out of rooms aimlessly, bottle held loosely in pale hands. Letting his daughter handle every funeral detail, every fallout felt from the loss of the head of House Kiramman.
Vi privately thinks he’s selfish. Drowning in his own despair when he still has so much to care for.
Vi licks her lips. “Do you need me for anything?”
She can’t help but ask it. Feels like she should be helpful – needs to be helpful in some way.
But Caitlyn just exhales slowly. “Just this,” she says. Her fingers curl into Vi’s shirt again, the collar this time, fingertips brushing skin. “This is enough. For right now.”
They stay that way for another few minutes, Vi moving her hand along Caitlyn’s lower back, daring to slip beneath the hem of her shirt to trace her skin. Rain starts falling outside, the lone sunbeam consumed by dark clouds.
Eventually the sounds of workers arriving and moving around outside stir them again. Caitlyn sighs and stretches, toes curling against Vi’s legs. Then she pulls back enough to finally look at Vi’s face. She releases Vi’s shirt to brush her bangs out of her eyes, cups Vi’s cheek softly.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
She looks so sad, so broken. Vi’s chest hurts looking at her.
“Anytime,” Vi whispers back, means it.
She has no fucking clue how to put this girl back together. But she wants to, needs to. Selfishly, she needs to keep her intact to keep herself from falling apart.
She leans forward and presses her lips to Caitlyn’s forehead, right at her hairline, exhaling slowly through her nose. Caitlyn releases her own shaky breath and curls her hand around the back of Vi’s neck, holding her there before moving back again.
Caitlyn’s eyes look less distant now as they focus on Vi’s lips, and Vi feels a tiny flicker of hope light in her chest. She presses her thumb gently to the corner of Vi’s mouth, brushes lightly against her bottom lip.
Then Caitlyn blinks and the moment is gone, her hand moving back to safe territory on Vi’s chest.
“I need to get up,” she murmurs. “And if I don’t do it now I fear I never will.”
Then don’t, Vi wants to say, but that wouldn’t be fair in the slightest, so she just nods and loosens her arms, allowing Caitlyn to sit up, to push her hair back from her face, to start putting up a strong front. But Vi can’t stop herself from following her up and pressing one last kiss against Caitlyn’s temple.
“Good luck,” she says, because it’s going to be fine feels like a lie and you’ll get through this feels callous.
Caitlyn leans into the kiss for just a second, the smallest smile ghosting on her lips in gratitude, then gets up with a lingering touch to Vi’s leg.
Vi stays in bed and watches her duck into the bathroom to wash her face, pull her hair into a ponytail, put on a robe. Then she’s slipping out of the bedroom, already preparing herself with what she needs to get through this day.
