#|| layer is my bestest friend ever i heart her
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“Being a sorcerer has always been Hoseok’s dream. So when a well-known and powerful sorceress sends out letters informing the young minds of the city of an upcoming position as her apprentice, Hoseok takes fate into his own hands and applies. The only problem is that learning the arts of magic is reserved for women. He is convinced however that hard work and effort can charm the sorceress’ heart and get him the position.”
Pairing: Magic Student!Hoseok x Magic Student!Reader
Genre: Fantasy!AU, Magic School!AU, s2f2potential lovers!AU, Romance
Warnings: lots of plot, 90% of this is written from Hoseok’s POV, Queendom!Tae being the bestest friend, they’re both so adorable, the students are mean to him at first :(, except for reader heheh she is a sweetheart <3, also idk if this is important but i got inspired by Elden Ring as far as some names are concerned istfg best game <3, this will have a second part where reader’s pov plays a bigger part and the romance is gonna be bigger as well <3, for now this story is very magic & Hobi’s journey to magic centered, but also some romantic tension is present as well hngngn, istfg i love this universe
Wordcount: 17.8k of 24.3k
✴ Part One of Two ✴
Hoseok stumbles into Taehyung’s room without knocking. The young prince startles slightly, gasping in surprise.
“Tae! Tae, I have news!” Hoseok calls out and stumbles to his friend.
“What is it? Are you feeling alright?” Taehyung asks.
He was in the midst of painting with some tea for sipping on the side, when Hoseok interrupted him. The latter lets himself fall down on the chair next to Taehyung, taking out a flyer from his chest pocket. He slams it on the table, looking at Taehyung excitedly.
Taehyung scans his eyes over his friend first. His long white hair is ruffled as if he ran quite some distance. His chest is heaving up and down quickly and his flushed face carries a thin layer of sweat. So he really must have been running.
Taehyung looks at the flyer next. It is of yellowish paper with purple ink soaking the fibres. The message is rather short. Short, but effective.
New Apprentices Wanted. Come to Sorceress Selen’s tower if interested.
“Oh? The sorceress seeks an apprentice?”
“Yes, indeed she does. Do you have an idea what that means?”
Taehyung furrows his brows in thought.
“Perhaps that there will be a new sorceress soon?”
“A new sorcerer you mean.”
Taehyung widens his eyes, gawking at Hoseok.
“Yes”, Hoseok says and nods his head excitedly, “I am going to become her apprentice.”
“Are you having a jest with me?”
“I am not. I will go to her tower and prove to her that I am fitting for a magical student.”
“But…you are a boy. No boy ever learned magic before.”
“This isn’t true. There are sorcerers.”
“Yes, perhaps in faraway lands but not here.”
“Well, then I am going to be the first one from these lands”, Hoseok says and grins.
Taehyung needs a few moments to regain his thoughts. Such news are of great surprise to him. He knew of Hoseok’s wishes to learn magic, but to truly have him act on them is shocking. No boy has ever tried what he wants to try. Oh, Taehyung is truly flabbergasted by his friend’s plan.
“But what about your life here? At court? As my lord-in-waiting?” Taehyung asks.
Hoseok falters.
“Do you not want to be my lord of court anymore?” Taehyung asks and pouts sadly.
Hoseok lowers his eyes, “but my dreams”, he whispers.
“Is it your really dream to become a sorcerer?”
“It always has been. You know that it has.”
“You always talked about moving the stars one day. Even when we were just little.”
“Exactly. Oh Tae”, Hoseok takes Taehyung’s hands, “I know I sound as if I have lost my mind, but I truly think that I could convince her to take me as her apprentice. I want to take this chance, perhaps there won’t ever be another like it.”
“And if you do and she agrees, you won’t forget me, will you?” Taehyung asks with great insecurity on his features.
“Of course I won’t. Oh Tae, why would you even worry about such things? You are my best friend. No, you are more than that. You are my brother and I won’t ever forget you.”
Taehyung smiles shyly, “that is so good to hear. I want you to accomplish your dreams. My dream has always been to paint and write poetry and sing songs and these days, I can do all these things and more. It would be unfair of me to stop you from achieving your dreams. Forgive me for my initial distaste.”
“No do not apologise, I understand your grievances. I will miss my life here. I love being your lord of court.”
“I love it as well. I love our conversations in the orange gardens and sharing chocolates after dinner”, Taehyung says and giggles.
Hoseok giggles as well, nodding his head in agreement.
“And swimming in the lagoons”, he says to which Taehyung agrees with a scrunch of his nose.
Their laughter dies down naturally. Hoseok lets out a loud sigh, sagging his shoulders.
“Maybe nothing will change in the end. Oh Tae, I am terribly nervous. What if the sorceress refuses to even hear me out?”
“I am sure that you will do great. We could practice your speech together.”
“You would really help me? I do not know where to start or what I need.”
“Yes, that is true. Me neither”, Taehyung says and tilts his head to the side. He scratches his chin. Suddenly his eyes light up.
“What did you think of?” Hoseok asks excitedly.
“Shall we look in the library? Perhaps we could ask Mistress Qela if she knows how to write applications”, Taehyung suggests.
“Yes, what a wonderful idea. We should go this instance.”
The two young men leave Taehyung’s recreation room, chatting about the endless possibilities once Hoseok mastered magic. They talk about making flowers with his fingers and giving oranges a sweeter taste. They dream about making pretty shells appear on shore and of Taehyung’s paints never running out again. All the great, revolutionary spells they do not speak for their minds never wandered there.
Mistress Qela is sitting by her desk, surrounded by scriptures and books and with her silver haired cat keeping her company.
“Mistress Qela?”
The elderly dwarf lifts her head upon being called. She fixes the reading glasses perched atop her nose and places her writing feather aside.
“Young prince Taehyung”, she says, standing up to bow at him.
“Please stay comfortable.”
Despite his words, she finishes her bow before sitting down again. She runs her eyes over the young prince first, then his young servant by his side.
“What brings you here, Sire?”
“Show him the letter, Hoseok.”
Hoseok takes out the flyer and places it on the table. Mistress Qela scoots to the edge of her seat and begins reading with a loud clear of her throat. She is running her fingers through her greying beard as she does, keeping her bushy brows furrowed.
“It seems that the sorceress Selen is seeking new apprentices”, she concludes.
“Yes indeed and Hoseok wants to fill the position, but we do not know how to write an application. Mistress Qela, could you help us?”
The dwarf runs her eyes over the two young men, carrying a stern expression on her face. Seconds pass like this where she stares and they allow her to do so nervously.
“Very well”, she says in the end and slides from her chair, “follow me, young ones. There are books in these halls which will help you”, she says and stomps away. She won’t comment on Hoseok’s dreams for it wasn’t her right to do so. She is aware how possible some impossible dreams are. She herself was called a foolish girl by her tribe for wanting to be become a librarian instead of a miner. She will always offer understanding for the dreams of young people even if others might call them foolish.
The books they seek are on the second floor in a high shelf where a window next to it allows sunlight to enter. Just a few shelves down, there is a desk with chairs and candles for light. It is currently empty.
Mistress Qela points at the shelves which are just out of reach for her.
“You will find what you are looking for here. Do not hesitate to ask me for help however. Have a good read, my young ones”, she says and turns to stomp back to her scriptures.
“Thank you, Mistress Qela!” Hoseok and Taehyung call after her.
Soon the dwarf disappears down the stairs.
“So, where shall we start? Shall we look for books each?” Taehyung suggests.
“Yes, that is a very good idea”, Hoseok agrees.
The young men spend the rest of their day in the library. They read books, scriptures and writings. They compose practice applications and note down new knowledge whenever they stumble upon it. They discuss the important parts and exchange possible phrases to use.
They are so lost in their research, that they do not hear the dinner bell, nor witness when Mistress Qela leaves for her bedchambers. They most definitely would have continued to be lost if Taehyung’s wife, the princess of the Sand Queendom, hadn’t looked for them.
“My darling one?”
Neither Taehyung nor Hoseok hear her and the princess has to try three more times before they finally lift their heads.
“Oh? My darling one”, Taehyung gasps, stumbling from his chair to hurry to her. He takes her hands, guiding them to his lips to kiss her knuckles.
Hoseok is standing as well, bowing his head deeply.
“What are you doing here?” Taehyung asks her.
“I could ask you the same thing. You were missed at dinner and it is way past our bedtime. I was worried.”
“Forgive me, my darling one but I am helping Hoseok with his application”, he says.
“Application?”
He guides her to the desk, showing her what they have been working on. The flyer of the sorceress is also on the desk.
“The sorceress is seeking a new apprentice and Hoseok wants to apply. We spent all day on perfecting his application”, Taehyung explains, “look. What do you think of it?”
The princess looks at Hoseok, ignoring the papers her husband is trying to show her.
“You want to leave your position as lord-in-waiting?” she asks.
“Yes, your highness”, he says, lowering his head in respect, “please forgive the sudden news. I planned on telling you and the Queen tomorrow. Please forgive me.”
“But men are forbidden from learning magic.”
“I know, your highness”, he lowers his head even more, “I thought that I could try. At least. Perhaps it could work.”
“I see”, she says and finally looks at the paper. She sits down where once Taehyung sat and picks up a writing feather, reading through the application. The two men watch her in silence. She nods her head sometimes and fixes mistakes, she also praises some parts whilst correcting others.
“It reads well”, she finishes the letter, “I shall ask mother to write you a letter of recommendation and I believe that with it and this application you will have good chances.”
“What?!” the two man exclaim at the same time.
“You have no problem with his plans?” Taehyung gets out.
“You aren’t angry at me?” Hoseok blurts out.
The princess chuckles, shaking her head.
“Why should I? I know that you dream of being a sorcerer and you are my friend as well. I want to support you”, she says.
“Oh my darling”, Taehyung says and pulls her up just to hug her tightly.
She laughs, accepting it with closed eyes.
“You are truly the most wonderful person”, he says and kisses her cheek.
“You are adorable”, she says.
“Thank you so much, your highness. You do not know how much this means to me”, Hoseok says, bowing so deeply he almost folds himself in half.
“Please do not thank me too soon. We will still have to get you through the part trickiest, which is getting her to even hear you out.”
“But with the Queen’s letter of recommendation it could work, couldn’t it? Oh! I could write one as well. So two people of power speak highly of him. You could write one as well, my darling one.”
“Fine, I shall write one as well. But first, you two need to have your dinner and then get your sleep. You have bodies to nourish besides your research”, she says and begins pushing them away from the desk gently.
The Queen agrees to the letter without hesitation. She is quite taken by the idea that the first sorcerer of these lands could be one of her servants. She tells the court on the same day and soon talk about Hoseok’s dream is heard in every corner of the castle. Excitement is grande. Young master Hoseok will be the first ever sorcerer and Castle Sandrock will be known as his once loving home. So the people talk. The Queen even lets her trusted dressmakers create a most elegant gown for him so he could look his best and offers one of her carriages for him to take to the tower so he didn’t have to sweat through his new dress. One week later, Hoseok has everything he needs for the most compelling application and the day of his attempt can no longer be postponed.
The courtyard is busy with life on his day of leaving – even if he will return by nightfall again, it is after all just a conversation – and the day has been good till now. There were celebrations in the servant wing during breakfast and good cheers in the court room during lunch. Hoseok accepted it with burning cheeks and constant confessions that he feels unworthy of such support. Nobody acknowledged him and the celebrations continued. The Queen and her husband are standing by the carriage. Taehyung and his wife are beside them.
“I shall pray for your success”, the Queen says.
“I believe that you will be successful”, her husband says.
“Thank you so much, your highness. I do not know how to be worthy of such support”, Hoseok says, bowing deeply.
“Just come home with good news.”
“I will, my Queen. At least, I hope I will.”
The Queen laughs fondly, “I am most certain that you will.”
The princess presses a piece of fresh cake into his hands. It is wrapped in a silken handkerchief and still warm from the stone ovens. The faint smell of butter and vanilla comes with it.
“Fresh pearl cake for you”, she says, “I find its sweet taste calms me down in nervous moments. Perhaps it can aid you as well.”
“Thank you, your highness”, Hoseok says, bowing in gratitude.
“May the goddesses be with you.”
“Thank you, your highness”, Hoseok says, bowing deeper.
Taehyung doesn’t say his goodbyes because he promised to come with Hoseok. The two friends get into the carriage together and accompanied by music and cheers, they leave the courtyard for the tower.
The drive through the city is calm. The day is still young, but life is already busy. The merchants are promoting their fresh goods with loud calls and chants, the seagulls fly high above the painted roofs in search of an easy snack and many people use the sunny morning to get their shopping done. Hoseok doesn’t feel his nerves in the city because he has something to look at and listen to.
The tower of the sorceress is in a calmer area of the city, passed the two inner most walls and at the end of a steep road. It is walled in, but its gates are always open, and consists of not only the high tower but two buildings as well, which are used as housing for magical students and work rooms, as well as a shop which sells magical goods made by the students. Behind the high walls, a luscious garden offers everything the eyes and nose desire. Fruit trees and vegetable beds are always rich with their bearings, offering nourishment to people who might struggle with hunger. Flowers are always in bloom, filling the air with their sweet scents. Old trees offer shade to anyone who might need it and the big fountains offer clear water, which never runs out.
The carriage comes to a stop. Big formations of purple crystal sticks out from the ground, glimmering in the light and on the shop porch cats are napping in the warmth. Glimmering clouds of purple magic traverse the air, giving everyone who might walk through such a cloud a sensation of clarity.
“It seems that we have arrived”, Taehyung says, studying the tower with wondrous eyes. Magic keeps the garden healthy and rich despite the hot weather and rainless days. The roof and window frames are coated with golden paint, reflecting the light and in the high above chambers purple curtains sway in the breeze.
“This looks beautiful”, he says, “you have windows here as well. Oh and they are so big.”
Hoseok can barely hear his friend’s excited words for he is too occupied with gawking at the stream of excited girls and young women flooding the tower gates with dreams of a brighter future. So many people came today.
Hoseok closes the curtain and gulps.
Taehyung reaches over to pat his knee.
“Nervous?” he asks.
“Frightened. Have you seen all these people? How should I even stand a chance?”
“You stand a chance because you are you and you deserve it.”
“Shall we turn around again? Let us turn around again.”
“No”, Taehyung shakes his head vigorously, “no, you have worked so hard for this. At least try. If it fails, you can say that you tried your best, otherwise you will already have failed.”
Hoseok gives in with a sigh, “you are right. Oh Taehyung, I am so nervous.”
“Don’t be, you will do wonderful in there”, Taehyung assures him and stands up to hug his best friend, “if you get too scared, think of me. I will wait right here outside these walls and think positive things about you.”
Hoseok smiles, “thank you. This makes me feel better.”
“Now go in there and show everyone why you deserve to study magic”, Taehyung says and smiles.
Hoseok frowns in dedication, “I will show everyone, yes I will.”
“That is the spirit! I am cheering for you”, Taehyung says and stays by the carriage while Hoseok leaves for the gates. He waves his friend until the masses swallow him. He releases a sigh of contentment, turning to his guard, “what say you? I saw a small shop filled with art down this road. Do you believe that we have time to visit it?”
“I believe we do, my lord.”
“Very well, then I want to go there.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Hoseok clutches his bag with both hands, trying not the look left and right in fear of seeing the judgemental eyes of others. He can feel them surround him, shrinking him more and more the closer to the tower he gets. He is aware that he is wrong here, but it still hurts to feel it so obviously. Most of the people are too busy with their own nervousness to care however.
“Leave me alone, you old hag!”
A loud voice calls Hoseok’s attention. An old, clearly weak woman tried to seek support on an arm of one of the women storming into the castle. The latter is slapping her hands away, calling her an “old hag” once again.
Hoseok stops in his steps. None else does. He watches for a few more moments to see if the situation resolves itself. The young woman storms off with her friends, leaving the old woman stranded by the wall. She looks helpless, trying so very hard to pick up herself up, but failing miserably as her own age betrays her. People pass her, but nobody helps.
Hoseok furrows his brows and runs to her.
“Forgive me, do you need help?” he asks, stretching out his hands to her.
The old woman lifts her head slowly, squinting her eyes to see better.
“Oh? Young boy, you come at my lowest times. I walked along these walls before I felt the sugar in my blood sink and now I have also dropped my bags. I cannot get up. Oh, these aren’t good times to see me, young boy.”
Hoseok squats down beside her
“Please, worry not”, he assures her, “may I place my hand on you to support you?”
“Yes, young boy.”
Hoseok does it gently and carefully, rubbing her arm slowly.
“Worry not, we will just sit here for a while until the drowsiness passes”, he says and offers her his waterskin, “please drink something. Clear water, collected just this morning.”
“Oh? Oh goddesses be pleased, thank you”, she accepts it.
Hoseok helps her drink from it. Next he offers her all his pearl cake.
“I couldn’t.”
“Pearl cake. It contains sugars. I wouldn’t want you to lose consciousness.”
“Are you certain, young boy? I have already robbed you of your water, I do not want to steal your food as well.”
“I wish to give this to you. You need it more than I do”, he says and smiles. When she still hesitates, he breaks off a small piece, offering it to her.
“Oh, young boy. You are too good to me”, she says and accepts it. She eats it, chewing it with the little amount of teeth she still has left, “oh it is wonderful. So sweet and very delicate on my teeth”, she says and smiles to show off her gums.
Hoseok laughs fondly, “you have a bright smile.”
“It was brighter in my youth”, she jokes, making him snicker.
“I am sure it was.”
“Thank you, young boy. You can go now if you wish to. I can manage on my own.”
Hoseok however dismisses her with a shake of his head, “I would feel terrible if I left you like this.”
“Oh, young boy you are too good to me.”
Hoseok and the old woman chat until she has finished the pearl cake and water. She tells him how she is on her way home from the market and that she bought all her food for the week. She looks ashamed when she tells him that she began to feel weak, but Hoseok assured her that there was no shame in it and that the days have been exhaustingly hot lately. She agreed with a nod of her head and a curse to the heavens for heating up the earth so much. Then she drifts off and begins telling stories from when she felt better and that she has a barely studied disease the doctors call diabetes. Hoseok asked for more information, but all she could tell him is that she can’t eat too many sweets as this could be dangerous, but also not too little as this would make her faint. He didn’t quite understand it, but she assured him that the doctors didn’t either yet. Then she asks if Hoseok had somewhere to be.
Hoseok looks over his shoulder. The roads are empty. His heart skips a panicked beat. How much time has passed? He looks back at the old woman and her innocent curiosity in her eyes.
“The sorceress’ tower”, he says and sighs in defeat, “I want to apply as her apprentice, but I do not know if this is even a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because I am a boy.”
“Well, you should still try.”
“You believe so?”
“Yes I really do”, she says and begins standing up with grunts.
“Wait! Let me help”, Hoseok says, stumbling to his feet hastily so he could support her.
“Oh, thank you young boy, thank you. Oh, my old bones aren’t what they used to be. Oh, aging is a curse”, she says and then tries to reach for her bags.
“Please, allow me”, he says, picking them up instead, “where is your home?”
“No, no I couldn’t. You need to go to the tower, not help an old woman carry her food.”
“I couldn’t leave you alone like this. What if the sugar in your blood sinks again?”
“Would you truly do this for an old hag?”
“You aren’t a hag. I wish to help you. Life is easier this way”, he says and offers her his arm to hold on to.
She takes it gladly, pointing west.
“My house is this way. It isn’t big, but it keeps the heat out. I couldn’t ask for more.”
“Then we shall walk there together. If you need to take a break, please let me know.”
They leave the tower gate behind in slow steps. Time still passes, but Hoseok can’t think about it right now. He really wants to help this woman, he doesn’t care how long it will take.
“Do you live close by as well, young man?”
“I live in this city, but I’m not from here.”
“You aren’t?”
“No, I come from the Snow Isles.”
“The Snow Isles? Oh this is so far away. What brings you so, so far away from home?”
“My best friend married a woman from here and I followed him.”
“A woman you say?”
“Yes, he was promised to her and I…” Hoseok falters. He doesn’t like to tell people who he really is because most people begin to feel inferior once they do. He doesn’t want people to feel as if they were less than him and so he lies, “…I came with him because he was scared to leave home. He is one year younger than me and we have been best friends since he was only eight months of age.”
“Eight months of age you say? And how old are you now?”
“I am twenty and three of age. He is still twenty and two. We have been here for more than two years now.”
“Oh, then you have known each other for a long time.”
“Yes, we have. He feels like a brother to me. He is still a little naïve sometimes, but his heart is at the right place. He supports me in my dream even if it is foolish.”
“And why is it foolish?”
“Because no boy was ever allowed in this school. We aren’t meant to learn magic.”
“Well, times can change. Don’t you think?”
“Yes, I do agree, but it is also a foolish thing to think.”
“No it isn’t. I do not know you, but I believe in you.”
“Thank you, this means a very lot to me.”
The woman lives quite far from the school. Hoseok doesn’t complain, supporting her until she is sitting safely in her own home. She talks about dizziness again and so Hoseok offers to cook something for her which will raise the sugar in her blood again. She refuses more times than not, talking about how she already stole too much of his time. But he didn’t care. He helped her. He put the food she bought aside and cooked a healthy meal for her. He stayed with her until she ate and then helped her relax her swollen feet. He would have also helped her in setting up her bed, but she managed to send him away before that, stuffing money into his hands for all he did.
“I couldn’t”, he refuses, shaking his head vigorously.
“Take it, please I insist.”
“But, this is your money. I couldn’t take it.”
“I wish to give this to you. The only thing I need from you is your name so I can include you in my prayers from now on.”
“Hoseok. My name is Hoseok, but please keep your money.”
“Hoseok”, she smiles, “I shall remember your name, Hoseok”, she says and pulls her hands away so he can’t attempt to place the money back into them.
Hoseok gives up with a sigh, bowing deeply.
“Thank you, I will spend the money well”, he lies, “perhaps we will see each other again. I will pray for your health as well.”
“Yes, I believe that we will see each other again”, she says and looks at him with a knowing glint in her eyes. Perhaps the light deceived him, but they looked purple for just a second. He shakes away the funny feeling and bows one last time.
Then he leaves, letting her think that he took the money. He slips it and one of his rings back under the door once he closed it, leaving before she could notice. He feels good about helping her until the hall of prayer close by reminds him of the time with loud calls of bells. Two hours. He spent two hours with this woman. The applications only last another hour.
Hoseok jumps into a full sprint, running back to the school even if the distance is grande. He has to be punctual! He has to get there in time! If he loses his chance because he didn’t run fast enough, he will forever blame himself! Quick! Run! Quick, quick, quick!
He arrives, heaving and panting. His clothes are soaked in his sweat, his head is just a little dizzy. The sun has never felt more punishing than it does right now.
He comes to a stop in a stumble, supporting himself by leaning his hands on his knees.
“What brings you here?” the guards ask him.
“I…am…here…for…the…appli…cations”, he is heaving out his words, barely managing to breathe.
“The doors are closed.”
“What?” he gasps, “no”, he shakes his head, “no, please allow me to enter. Please.”
The guards exchange an annoyed look.
“The doors are closed.”
Hoseok feels like crying. He came too late.
“Please”, he begs, “please I promise to be quiet, please.”
“Leave, boy. The doors are closed.”
Is it because he is a boy? Is that the reason?
“Is it because I am a boy?”
She curls her lips in distaste. The glimmer in her eyes lets him know that it truly was because he was a boy.
“No. You simply came too late.”
“But-”
“Leave before we make you”, she warns, flashing her eyes purple.
Hoseok takes a cautious step back. Anger, frustration, sadness, helplessness. He feels all of it. He is going to fail not because he came too late or didn’t impress the sorceress enough, but because the guards are cruel sexists.
“Please.”
“No. You-”
“Wait! Please wait!”, a girl stumbles next to Hoseok, coming to a stop with a squeak. She must have been running as well because sweat pearls have collected on her forehead, “forgive me, oh forgive me I arrived too late. Are the doors still open?”
The guards grind their teeth in annoyance. Hoseok stifles his victorious smile.
“Yes”, they press out and step aside.
“Thank you, oh thank you”, she says and hurries inside.
Hoseok follows her, looking over his shoulder to send the guards the smile he was hiding. He did it. Now nothing can stand in his way anymore.
There aren’t many people left in the waiting room. They all look at him as he passes the threshold. Whispers begin instantly, but Hoseok doesn’t care. He is too busy with recovering from the intense run. So much for taking a carriage so he wouldn’t ruin his new clothes. He looks as if he took a dive in the ocean. He reaches for his waterskin. Empty. He grunts, dropping his head against the wall in exhaustion. He is going to die in these halls.
Three other girls enter and leave the hearing room until Hoseok finally somehow recovers from his run. He scoots up the seats with the remaining girls, finally feeling ready to look around. They are staring at him. The girl which also arrived too late is missing. She must have already left.
One of them scrunches her nose at him in distaste.
“Why are you here?” she asks.
“The same as you”, he answers her snappishly because he recognises her. She was the one who abandoned the old woman.
“You aren’t allowed to be here.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No you’re not. This place is for girls only.”
“No, it is not.”
She scoffs in distaste. Others are chuckling quietly. Hoseok stands his ground, staring her down. She curls her lips.
“You are sweating, it’s revolting”, she says.
“That is because I just ran quite the distance and it is hot outside.”
“Well, I don’t like it. You look ugly.”
“Not as ugly as you.”
She gasps. The others around her do as well.
“Excuse me?” she hisses.
“I watched you abandon the old woman outside the walls. Your ugly soul makes you the ugliest here”, he says and turns his head away.
“How dare you! You come in here and insult me? Who do you think you are?”
Hoseok ignores her.
“I’m talking to you”, she hisses and reaches over to slap his arm harshly, “I said, I’m talking to you.”
Hoseok sends her a deathly glare and stands up to walk closer to the door.
“What’s your problem, why are you ignoring me?” she spits and jumps up to attack him again.
The door opens. The girl, who was just inside, stares as the scene unfolding. The guard by the door does as well and far in the back the sorceress is watching it happen. The rude woman with the ugly soul stops her attack on Hoseok and presses herself past the girl coming outside.
“It was about time, I was wait…” the door falls closed and silences her.
Hoseok finally releases the nervous breath he was holding in, rubbing the spot the rude girl hit multiple times. It hurts.
“Are you hurt?”
Hoseok looks at the girl who just came out of the hearing room. She was the one who also running late.
“I am fine. How did it go inside?” he asks her.
“Oh, I do not know. I felt so nervous that I kept messing up my words.”
“I understand you so well. I feel so nervous as well.”
“So you are also here to learn?”
“I am.”
“But you are a boy. Are boys allowed here?”
“I want to be the first sorcerer in this school.”
“Oh? I see. You must be so nervous then.”
“I am. I really am.”
“I can see that. You look very hot. Are you sure that you are fine?”
“I am. I ran and have no water left to drink”, he says and chuckles nervously, “I hope that my throat doesn’t constrict inside.”
“Do you want some of my water? I already drank from it, but if you don’t mind.”
“Would you really? I hate to beg, but I ran so far.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t mind. Please”, she says and offers her waterskin.
Hoseok accepts it with a deep bow, drinking from it almost greedily. Oh it feels so good to drink. He felt so close to his end.
He tries not to drink all of it, handing it back to the girl.
“I bless you. This truly saved me.”
“I am just glad that I could help”, she says and smiles, “I wish you luck. Maybe if you succeed, my brother could too one day.”
Hoseok feels warm in his chest. He is already inspiring people. He nods his head vigorously.
“Yes, yes indeed. I believe that he will.”
She bows her head at him, “perhaps we will see each other again at school.”
He bows his head at her, “perhaps we will.”
She leaves then, looking over her shoulder one last time before she crosses the corner.
Hoseok takes a deep breath. Now that he finally had some water to drink, his head feels clearer. He needs to prepare. He takes out his application from his bag and begins reading.
He doesn’t notice when the rude girl comes back out, neither does he notice her poisonous glances until she talks to him.
“You are still here”, she spits, making herself big in front of him.
Hoseok lowers his papers, looking down at her.
“I wasn’t in the hearing room yet, so yes I am.”
“You should leave now. You won’t ever stand a chance.”
“We will see about that.”
She scoffs and slaps the papers out of his hands.
“Hey!”
She turns and stomps away.
Hoseok squats down, picking up his papers with shaking hands. This hurt him. He is already nervous beyond recovery and now he was treated like garbage. He is too emotionally vulnerable to be bullied this way. The papers are out of order. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Everything is going wrong. His application is a mess.
“You.”
Hoseok lifts his head.
“You’re next.”
“I, I haven’t sorted my papers yet.”
“You can do it inside. Time’s ticking”, the guard says.
Hoseok feels dizzy, scrambling to pick up his papers.
“Hurry up.”
“I am, please.”
The sorceress Selen lifts her head at the noises by the door. Her guard is talking to one of the potential students. Like always, she has a harsh tone going on. Whoever she is rushing, seems to be quite upset about it. Second later he stumbles into the room. The sorceress Selen widens her eyes in surprise. A boy? This is new.
Said boy is busy with sorting papers. So busy in fact that he doesn’t even notice her presence until she greets him.
He lifts his head, “oh? Oh, heavens. Please fo-forgive me”, he bows deeply, dropping his papers again, “no! Oh no, my application! Not again!” he exclaims and falls to his knees to sort it out.
She stands up so she could see past her desk. His hands are trembling uncontrollably as he is picking up the papers.
“Are you alright?”
“Pl-please forgive me. I, I am sorry. I d-dropped my application. I- please forgive me, please”, he stutters, working hastily to fix it, “foolish Hoseok. You are foolish.”
He seems to be talking to himself. Poor boy.
With pity in her heart, she rounds the table to help him.
“No please you, you do not have to help I, I- oh god.”
“Don’t worry. I wish to help you. Life is easier this way.”
Hoseok falters. The words seem familiar to him, but he cannot remember where and if he heard them before. He lowers his head after meeting the sorceress’ purple eyes.
“Thank you. I-I am not usually that clumsy.”
“Worry not”, she assures him and hands him the finished papers, “there you go.”
“I thank you. My deepest gratitude, truly.”
She stands back up and rounds the table. She sits down, waiting until the young man sat down as well. He sits as straight as possible, holding his head high even if he can barely keep up eye contact. He looks very obviously hot. As if he ran quite the distance. She studies the papers he is clutching, then looks back into his eyes.
“Are you feeling alright? You look quite hot.”
“I had to run quite far.”
“Overslept?”
He shakes his head vigorously, “no, my lady sorceress, I have been awake with the first ray of sunlight, preparing for today.”
“Indeed?”
He nods his head.
“So why were you running?”
“I…” Hoseok could tell her about what he did, but he doesn’t want to come off as if he was boasting. He didn’t help this old woman because he wanted to boast, he helped her because he wanted to be kind. He decides against telling her, “…I had something important to do, which took me quite far from this school. So I had to run back again in order not to miss the hearing.”
“Mhm, something important you say. Very well then. Now, your name is Hoseok?”
“Yes, indeed. I am Hoseok.”
“And why are you here, Hoseok?”
“I want to become one of your students”, he says and slides over the papers, “I know I am not your usual candidate, but I am a hard worker and a diligent learner. I wrote an application and, and there are also letters of recommendation.”
“You wrote an application?” she asks, lifting up the papers with the help of magic.
“I did yes. I, I had no idea how to, so I spent all day reading books about it and practicing until it was as perfect as it could be.”
“You researched how to write applications?”
Hoseok’s cheeks light up, “I, I meant- I didn’t- I mean I did, but I- I wanted it to be perfect.”
“I see”, she says and looks into the papers. She skims her eyes over them, but does not begin reading them yet, “I shall read through them later”, she says and fixes the heap into one neat stack.
Hoseok gulps nervously, ogling the papers. He does not know what this means meant. Oh, his heart might give up in his chest.
“I thank you for coming here. You will hear from me soon.”
“You have no questions for me?” he gasps.
“I have everything I need to know.”
“But”, Hoseok stops his lower lip from trembling, “I truly want this position.”
“I am certain that you do. So do many other young women however.”
“I, I dreamt of being a sorcerer ever since I could think and, and I know that I-I am a man and that it, it isn’t tradition in these lands for boys to learn magic, but I know that I could do it. I, I want it and I will work so very hard for it. I will work so, so hard until my fingers are sore and my mind foggy. Please. You could count on me, my lady sorceress. I work hard and well and I do not break under pressure. I am also very cleanly and punctual and I fulfill each task to perfection. I, I can also read and write and I enjoy studying. Please my lady sorceress Selen, give me a chance. Please, I wouldn’t disappoint you.”
The sorceress Selen listened to his nervous babbling with a tinge of fondness in her heart. The passion burned in his eyes and the love for his dream was obvious in his voice.
“Thank you young master Hoseok, for your passionate words. I shall consider them.”
Hoseok panics. He said too much, came off as rude and obtrusive. He stands up quickly to apologise with a bow. He bows so vigorously that he hits his head on the desk. It is loud, forcing a squeak out of Hoseok as well. He stumbles back, touching his aching forehead.
“Oh! By Razula!” the sorceress exclaims, jumping up in shock, “are you hurt?” she gasps, reaching for him to hold him by his shoulders in case he loses his consciousness.
Yes, it hurts. He feels dizzy and his skull is pulsing, but nothing hurts more than the shame Hoseok feels. He made a fool of himself. Now the sorceress won’t ever consider him.
“I, I am not hurt”, he stutters, bowing again because the shame sits too deep, “please forgive me. I, I took too much of your time. Please forgive me.”
His face literally feels as if flames were melting off his skin. He is so ashamed that he wishes for the gates of Helva to swallow him whole. He feels tears in his eyes.
“Please forgive me, please”, he pleads and turns to run away.
“You-”, the sorceress does not get to finish her sentence because Hoseok left the room before that, slamming the door accidentally.
She allows the situation to sink in with her mouth open in shock and her body stiff in surprise. This was the most peculiar situation which has happened to her in a long time.
Hoseok almost throws himself into the carriage, falling around Taehyung’s neck before the young prince could even say his first word. He drops his sweet ice cream from the impact, grunting.
“Oh? Did it go so well?” he asks, hugging his best friend back.
Hoseok sobs heartbreakingly just as the carriage begins to move.
“Hoseok”, Taehyung gasps, tightening the hug, “what happened?”
“I made a fool of myself”, Hoseok chokes out and wails painfully.
“Why? What happened?”
Hoseok tells Taehyung how the sorceress didn’t even read his applications nor ask him questions and how he acted obtrusive only to completely embarrass himself by hitting his head on her table. He barely gets the words out as he cries as if he just lost every person dear to him. And Taehyung listens to him, trying to comfort him without any sign of success.
The castle welcomes him back with music and cheers, but that soon dies down when Hoseok leaves the carriage and runs straight to his chambers. Taehyung tells everyone what happened and no one truly knows how to behave once they know. A deep grieving is shared however.
Hoseok doesn’t leave his chambers for days. Taehyung is the one to make sure that he eats and drinks, but Hoseok never allows him to enter. The young prince has to put the tray of food in front of his door and come collect the empty one, hours later. He tries to talk to him, but the only thing he gets are mumbled “leave me alone”s or “go away”s. Hoseok is grieving, there is no denying that.
Taehyung huffs out air in frustration. He was painting in the orange gardens when he thought of his best friend again. He looks at his window. The curtains are drawn closed. Another huff of air shows how helpless Taehyung feels. He doesn’t know what to do to make Hoseok feel better again. His heart got shattered and Taehyung has no idea how he could glue it back together.
“Young prince Taehyung?”
Taehyung looks at his servant.
“Yes?”
“The letters of today.”
“Letters?” Taehyung stands up to get the heap of letters from the silver platter. The servant bows his head at him, watching the young prince sort through them.
Most are of royal duty, some are from his family back home and some are merchants attempting to advertise their expensive goods. Taehyung will read through them later. He reaches the end of the heap, widening his eyes.
A purple envelope with golden lettering spelling Hoseok’s name. The sorceress’ wax sigil keeps the letter closed. It is a dark purple colour.
“Is this…” his servant asks.
“It is”, Taehyung confirms, exchanging a shocked look with him.
“Your highness, did he do it?”
“Perhaps? Come, we have to give it to him.”
The young prince and his servant leave the orange garden, running to Hoseok’s chambers.
Taehyung doesn’t bother to knock, entering Hoseok’s room by calling his name.
The latter is lying in bed, lifting his tired head. He is squinting his eyes. His silver hair is messy. The air smells old.
“Hoseok! Hoseok, I have news!”
“I am not interested, just leave me alone”, Hoseok grumbles and buries his face in the pillow.
“You will want to know these news”, Taehyung says and jumps onto Hoseok’s bed, “Namgil, please open the curtains.”
“Yes, your highness.”
“No. No light. Just leave me alone”, Hoseok whines and pulls the blanket over his head.
Taehyung drags the blanket away. Hoseok fights him weakly, whining his name.
“Look. Hoseok, look”, Taehyung insists, waving the purple envelope in front of Hoseok’s face.
The heartbroken man peels his eyes open groggily.
“What?”
“Look.”
“Huh?”
Hoseok shoots up instantly, ripping the letter out of Taehyung’s hand. He moves it closer to his face, squinting his eyes to make sure that they aren’t deceiving him.
“What?” he presses out.
“It arrived earlier. Look, this is the sorceress’ sigil and, and this is your name”, Taehyung says, bouncing on the mattress as he points at them. He is so excited that he can barely contain himself.
“This can’t be”, Hoseok whispers and rips the sigil to unfold the latter.
Namgil sits down next to him, trying to steal a glance. He is just as excited as Taehyung.
“And? What does it say?” Taehyung stresses, “tell us please. We are dying in curiosity. What does it say?”
Hoseok lowers the letter, staring at Taehyung.
“What is it? Did you get the position?”
“I did”
“You did?!”
Hoseok nods his head.
“Yes! You did! Hoseok, you did!” Taehyung screams in excitement and falls around his best friend’s neck.
Hoseok is stiff and silent at first. The shock sits too deep. But as Taehyung’s laughs and sobs and cheers continue, the realisation of his situation begins to seep in. It isn’t long until Hoseok is sobbing and laughing as well, hugging Taehyung as if his life depended on it.
“I did it!”
“You did it! Hoseok, you did it!” Taehyung says and pulls Hoseok to his feet so they could jump on the bed together. Namgil joins as well. The three men hold hands and cheer loudly, so loudly in fact that soon guards peek inside the room asking if everything was fine.
“Tell everyone that Hoseok managed to get into the school”, Taehyung tells her with sparkling eyes.
“Oh! By the goddesses! Congratulation, Hoseok! I will tell everyone!” she exclaims and hurries away to spread the news in the castle.
The celebrations about Hoseok’s success last until the early morning hours. Dance is plenty, food delicious and wine most intoxicating. Hoseok, Lord of Court of Sandrock Castle will be the first sorcerer of these lands! Oh the news couldn’t be any sweeter.
But where sweetness lies, bitterness follows and only two days later, the moment of his goodbye has come. The court is excited for his future and yet terribly sad to part ways. His fellow servants already said their goodbyes to him with tears and a basket of fruits they saved up for together. The Queen and her husband said goodbye with white dresses he could wear at school and the promise that he will always be welcome at the castle. The princess is holding her husband, who has been sad ever since the morning.
The carriage is packed. There is no reason for Hoseok to stay any longer.
“So, I believe it is time for me to go”, Hoseok says.
“We wish you luck”, the Queen says.
“Thank you, your highness. Not only for your kind words, but also for your support. I am but a mere servant and you didn’t have to be so kind to me. So thank you”, Hoseok says, bowing until his chest touched his own thighs.
“We are all equal. You may have served my son in law, but you are also his dearest friend and his lord-in-waiting. Do not thank me for my kindness, I am happy to give it to you.”
“Thank you, your highness”, Hoseok says and straightens up. He looks at the princess, “you will have to take care of him for me.”
She laughs, “I will gladly do so. Good blessings, dear Hoseok.”
“Thank you, your highness”, Hoseok bows his head, then looks at Taehyung.
The latter pouts sadly, throwing himself around his neck in a tight hug.
“Please promise to write as often as you can”, he murmurs into him.
“I will. I hope that you write as well.”
Taehyung steps back, nodding his head vigorously.
“I will. Oh, you will get tired of me. I will write so many letters.”
The two men giggle, holding hands.
“And you have to visit on the weekends. Please, we need to talk in the orange gardens and swim in the blue lagoons.”
Hoseok nods his head vigorously, “I will visit whenever I can. I promise.”
“Good”, Taehyung says and falls around his neck, “I will miss you so much.”
“I will miss you too”, Hoseok says, closing his eyes as he enjoys his best friend’s hug before he can’t feel it for quite some time.
“Please be happy and successful. I will think of you each night.”
“Me too. Be happy as well and never stop painting.”
Taehyung laughs, but it sounds just a little like a sob. The two men hug each other tighter, laughing eventhough they are secretly crying.
“I won’t.”
“Good. That is good.”
The goodbye is bittersweet. The life they once knew and grew up with ends and a new one begins. It hurts. But they will each follow their dreams and will only be apart an hour by foot. It lessens the pain and gives both of them happiness. They will be apart, but still close. They won’t live their old lives anymore, but will finally follow their dreams. The goodbye is bittersweet. It truly is.
The streets in front of the school are calm today, which allows the carriage to drive all the way to the front steps of the student housing.
Hoseok steps out of the carriage, thanking the royal guard for helping him. He is conversing with her, blind to the shocked looks the magical guards send him. They are aware what the sigil on their armour meant and the realisation of who they were rude to just weeks ago sits heavy in their stomachs. And while Hoseok is talking to the guard, the servants he once commanded, carry his luggage to the student housing. They ask the guards where they must go and the latter tell them with nervousness in their voices.
“I wish you good blessings”, the guard says.
“Thank you Nepheli, I wish you good blessings as well”, Hoseok says, looking over his shoulder, “did Namgil disappear with the cases already?”
“It appears so.”
“Oh, well I see”, Hoseok gives Nepheli a smile, “we will see each other again.”
She bows her head, “most definitely we will.”
Once Namgil and two other servants return from Hoseok’s new chambers, it is time for the carriage to return to the castle. Hoseok waves to them until they disappear outside the walls. He lowers his arms and takes a deep breath. His heart is racing, but it isn’t for an uncomfortable reason.
He is excited.
His new life lies behind these doors.
He will finally study the arts of magic.
Hoseok contains the dance of happiness he wants to do and turns around. His eyes meet those of the guards. The judgment of once is gone. Nervousness replaced it.
They bow their heads at him, “my lord, I see that you were successful.”
Hoseok blinks his eyes in confusion. Why are they bowing their heads?
“May we help you with anything?”
“No, uh”, he clears his throat, “well, uh, where do I have to go?”
“Please, follow me, my lord.”
“Very well?” Hoseok follows her confusedly.
They have walked quite some time when he finally talks.
“Excuse me?”
“Yes, my lord?”
“Why are you calling me this way?”
“Well, are you not from the royal court?”
“Oh”, now he understands. They must have seen the royal crest and thought that he was of royal blood. Hoseok touches the side of his neck, flustering slightly, “some could say that I am.”
“My lord”, she bows her head, “I hope that our behaviour last time carries no consequences. You must know, we only followed our duties.”
Hoseok doesn’t like to feel superior. Again, he never tells people what his profession once was. But he also likes the sense of victory their apology gives him. They weren’t following duties last time, they were being sexist. Hoseok decides to let them boil in their misunderstanding a while longer.
“I understand. I had already feared that this school was guarded by a bunch of sexists.”
She laughs awkwardly, “no, my lord. Of course not. Everyone is welcome here.”
“Good. I hope it stays this way.”
“Yes, my lord”, she bows, then points at an open door, “the first lecture is here, my lord.”
“Thank you”, Hoseok says and walks off without bowing. His heart might actually fall out of his ribcage. He never felt more nervous before than he did right now. This was the first time he left a conversation without having to bow. Oh he is such a liar. This will have consequences for sure.
And while Hoseok thinks of his own actions, he scans his eyes over the classroom. It is high up in the tower with windows on six of the eight walls. Only the wall with the teaching board and the door have no windows. Two of the windows are facing into the hallways while the other four show the outside world. It is a sunny day, so the class room is flooded with natural light. Big chunks of purple crystal reflect the rays and on most wooden desks, young women were sitting. Small groups of chatting women have already formed. Their conversations die down when Hoseok enters the classroom. Whispers, which aren’t very secret, run through the room. Questions if “this” was a boy, wonders why he was here and rude comments about how he is wrong here all meet Hoseok’s ears.
He swallows down his nerves and lifts his hand to wave at the group of judging women.
“Good day, I am Hoseok. How are you all doing?”
All their heads turn away in sync and Hoseok is left without getting an answer. It stings, as much as it embarrasses him. He probably would have felt like crying when a sweet voice hadn’t called his name. He turns his head.
It is her. The girl, who also came too late and who saved his future back then. She is sitting with two other girls, waving her hand at him.
Hoseok jogs to her with a smile on his lips.
“You made it”, she says.
“You made it as well”, he says.
“I did. Oh, I am so happy to see you. Not only because I know nobody here, but because you made it.”
“I know nobody either. My name is Hoseok”, he says.
“I know, I heard. My name is ___.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, ___.”
“The pleasure is all mine”, you say and continues with a shy gleam in your eyes, “do you want to sit together?”
“Yes, I would like that”, Hoseok says and sits down by the desk next to yours. His heart is fluttering. He is making friends. He doesn’t have to spend his entire academic career as an outsider. He turns his knees to you and gives you a smile.
You retort it.
“How are you doing?”
“Excited. I couldn’t sleep at all because I knew what today would bring. You?”
“Excited as well. And nervous”, Hoseok confesses, “I don’t think that I am very welcome here.”
You scan your eyes over the room. The conversations have become significantly quieter ever since Hoseok is in the room. Confused and judgemental looks meet his direction every now and then.
“It is the first time that a boy is learning magic. I believe that they are all just very confused.”
“I want to believe this as well”, Hoseok agrees and shifts his eyes to the two girls behind you, “nice to meet you.”
One of them has hair as red as fire, while the other has silver hair just like Hoseok. They both looked surprised to be addressed.
“Oh? Oh, uhm. Nice to meet you”, the silver haired girl says, “I’m Becca.”
“I’m Ash, nice to meet you”, the fire-haired girl says.
“Are you three friends?” Hoseok asks.
“No, we have only met today”, you say.
“I see, so we are all in the same boat.”
“We are”, Becca says, “are you really a boy?”
Hoseok nods his head.
“Are you actually allowed here?”
Hoseok shrugs his shoulders, “I managed to get in, so I must be”, he grins, “I am going to become the first sorcerer of these lands.”
“Woah”, Ash gasps, exchanging a look with Becca, “are you allowed to do that?” she is whispering the question as if it was a forbidden secret.
“I decided to rather ask for forgiveness than permission”, Hoseok whispers as well, making the girl snicker and hide their mouths behind their hands. A sense of excited glee washes over their faces. As if they are now part of a secret plan to change the world.
Hoseok smiles proudly, relaxing back into his seat. He feels relieved to know that he won’t be such an outsider here. That was truly his greatest fear.
Hoseok would have continued to chat with his new friends, hadn’t sorceress Selen entered the room, announcing herself with a clear of her throat. The classroom grows silent instantly.
A plethora of sorceresses enter the room behind her, lining up along the front of the classroom.
“Good morning, class”, sorceress Selen says loudly.
“Good morning, sorceress Selen”, the class answers back.
“As you all may know, you are the very few lucky ones who have impressed me. Some more than others”, she says, meeting Hoseok’s eyes long enough that the rest of the class notices. The jealous looks are instant. Hoseok feels hot under them, sinking deeper into his chair in hopes of hiding away.
Sorceress Selen breaks eye contact, scanning her eyes over the class as she talks.
“Remember that there has been a first for anything on earth. Someone had to take the first swim, the first run, someone had to taste sugar for the first time and someone had to have the first hangover. There will never stop being firsts and I ask of you to show the respect I see in every single one of you. Understood?”
It is obvious to all that she meant Hoseok’s presence in these halls. This is a first. Never before was there a boy studying magic in this school.
“Yes, Sorceress Selen”, the class answers hesitantly.
“Very good. Now, my name is, as you all know, Sorceress Selen. I am the headmistress of this school and I will also be your teacher of glintstone magic”, she says and steps back to allow another sorceress the spotlight.
“My name is Sorceress Zenith. I will be your teacher of magical potions.”
The next sorceress calls herself Ceva, introducing herself as the class’ teacher of magical literature.
Sorceress Ciri will be the teacher of magical history and Sorceress Cintra will teach the ways of magical transformation. The first year will only have five courses, but they promise that the students will have a lot of work to do and that five are very much enough.
“Now that we introduced ourselves, we would like you to do the same. Go on, stand up and introduce yourselves to the class. Be kind, you will spend a lot of time with each other.”
One by one the students stand up and introduce themselves. Hoseok listens intently to all of them, trying his hardest to memorise their names. The class is a good mixture of all social stands, races and nationalities. Hoseok is surprised at how many girls from other queendoms come to this school to learn. He likes it however. It makes his Snow Isles heart feel less alone in being so far from home. He feels his pulse increase the closer to his turn the introductions come and by the time it is finally his turn, his cheeks have started to heat up.
He stands up, looking around the room. All eyes are on him.
“My name is Hoseok, I come from the Snow Isles and I am here to learn magic just like all of you are, I believe, hah”, he says and laughs.
Nobody else laughs. Some even look at him angrily.
He clears his throat nervously, straightening his back.
“I know that you all must be very confused why I am here. A boy here in the school of magic, I know you must want to curse me and call me wrong. I do not blame you, but I want to say that if you need help, I am always willing to help”, he says and smiles, “I want all your very bests”, he says and bows, “thank you”, he says and sits back down.
The eyes linger on him just a little longer before you steal the attention by standing up loudly.
“I am ___. I was born and raised here and I live by the docks with my family. I am here to learn magic just like Hoseok already said”, you say, sending him a playful look, “that is all. Thank you.”
You sit back down, leaning closer to Hoseok to whisper. He leans in as well so he could listen better.
“You stole my joke”, you say and snicker.
“Forgive me, I panicked.”
“It’s alright. It was a good joke.”
Hoseok grins, agreeing with a nod of his head.
The students have free time for the rest of the day. Most use it to move into their chambers. Hoseok does as well. The chambers consist of one small shared room and two connecting bed chambers with a small washing chamber connecting as well. Hoseok arrives last at his shared room.
“Oh, it is you.”
Hoseok is greeted by you, Ash and Becca.
“Are you my new chamber mates?”
“Indeed we are. We were already wondering who might be our fourth chamber mate. Are all of these things yours?”
Hoseok looks at the heap of packages in the middle of the room. He wasn’t even aware of how much he packed.
Hoseok blushes shyly, “yes, they might be mine.”
“Forgive me for asking, but are you a prince?”
“A prince? Me?” Hoseok laughs, shaking his head, “oh goddesses no, I am no prince. I…” he stops himself. He almost exposed that he served Taehyung, prince of the Snow Isles and future queen consort of the Sand Queendom.
“But these are golden hinges. Only those of royalty can afford golden hinges on their travel cases.”
“Well”, Hoseok touches the side of his neck shyly, “I might have served a prince before coming here.”
“A prince?!” his chamber mates all gasp in unison, inching closer as excitement overtakes them.
“Who did you serve?”
“Do we know him?”
“Where is he now?”
“Who is it?”
“We can keep secrets.”
They bombard him with questions. Ash even grasps his lower arm to shake it in excitement.
Hoseok takes a careful step back, lifting his hands in defeat.
“Very well, very well I will tell you”, he gives in.
“Oh this is exciting.”
“I want to know everything.”
“Tell us, please.”
They babble and chat, sitting down on the shared seating to listen to Hoseok. He sits down as well, blushing heavily when they all gather around him with minimal space between their bodies. Their excited eyes are glued to his face.
He clears his throat, “I left the Snow Isles as a servant. The prince I served was promised to a princess and as his lord in waiting it was my duty to follow him and serve him in his new home.”
“But…when you served a prince and he was promised to a princess from these lands, that means…” Becca’s eyes widen as realisation sets in, “that means you are serving prince Taehyung! You were a servant at Queen Ranni’s court!”
They gasp loudly, throwing their hands over their mouths.
“Is it true?”
“Did you truly?”
Hoseok nods his head hesitantly, lowering his eyes shyly.
“By Frenya!”
“This can’t be!”
“Oh this is mindruining!”
You take his lower arm and shake it excitedly, “how is it living at court? Is the Queen as kind as it says she is? Is the princess truly beautiful beyond compare? And prince Taehyung, is he truly such a wonderful soul as everyone says?”
“Yes. Yes, I would say that all of these things are true. The Queen and her daughter supported me in my dream of becoming a sorcerer. They didn’t have to do so and yet they did. And Taehyung”, Hoseok smiles fondly, “Taehyung is my best friend. He didn’t have to support my silly dreams, but he was the first to dream with me. He is the kindest soul you will meet. He truly is.”
“So the sayings are true. The royal family is kind hearted.”
“Yes, they are. They are kind people”, Hoseok says and smiles, “that brings me to something to give me”, he says and stands up, “the princess insisted that I bring presents for my new chamber mates. She must have feared that I would be hated here, so she gave me something to bribe your hearts”, Hoseok explains, making his chamber mates laugh.
He feels good about it. People only laugh at jokes when they like the person telling it. The princess’ worries were useless. He still wants to give them their presents however.
“It isn’t much, but I hope that you will enjoy it nonetheless”, Hoseok says and hands each of his chamber mates a hand woven basket filled with oranges from the castle garden, chocolate from the castle’s kitchen and sweet wine from the royal vineyards.
“These are expensive things. I couldn’t take them”, you refuse, shaking your head.
“No please, the princess insisted that you each get something. It will rot otherwise, so please enjoy it.”
They each accept the gift with shy gleams in their eyes.
“And what about you? What have you done before coming here?” Hoseok asks.
“I worked in the mountains”, Ash says, “I never thought of coming here, but then I discovered my magic by accidentally lifting a stone and my mother encouraged me to seek education so that perhaps one day I can return to the village as a sorceress.”
“I also discovered my magic by sheer luck”, Becca says, “I live by the sea not far from here. One day I helped a fish come to life again. That is when I knew I had to seek help from sorceress Selen and now I am here.”
“Oh your stories are both wonderful, I discovered my magic through stubbornness”, you say with a chuckle on your lips, “each day after waking up, I tried to move my candle until one day I finally did. I told my family and days later sorceress Selen’s letter arrived. I knew I had to take the chance and here I am.”
The girls giggle, but Hoseok can’t find it in himself to laugh. They all know how to do magic already? He believed that all of them are like him, that this school is supposed to awake the magical powers within them.
“What about you? How did you discover your magic?” you ask him.
Hoseok gulps nervously, “I…uh….”
“You have discovered it, haven’t you?”
“Uh..I..uh..”
“You haven’t”, you gasp, exchanging a shocked look with Becca and Ash.
“But how do you know if you even have powers inside you?” Becca asks.
Hoseok touches the side of his neck in soothing. He never thought of that.
“What if you aren’t meant for magic? Not everyone is”, Ash gasps.
Hoseok feels his stomach twist. He never thought of that either. He believed that everyone can learn magic through hard work. He believed that magic slumbers in every person and that through hard work and proper education, they will awake.
“I thought that”, he begins, gulping down the nervous lump in his throat, “I thought that…that it would awake once I am at this school.”
“But how did you get through the application process?”
“What do you speak?”
“How did you manage to perform the spell without magic?”
“What spell?”
“The spell we had to perform to prove that we have magical abilities.”
“I, I didn’t have to perform a spell”, Hoseok stutters.
“So how did you get in?”
“M-maybe she saw something in me?” Hoseok says shyly.
“Alright”, Becca says and scrunches her nose.
Hoseok can see it in her eyes, her once friendly nature is gone. She looks at Ash and you. Ash’s face is cold as well.
“Shall we see if we can meet other people?” Becca asks.
“Yes we shall”, Ash says and stands up.
“That sounds like a good idea”, Hoseok says and stands up as well.
“Not you”, Becca says and drags Ash away from him.
“Oh”, Hoseok stops, feeling his chest sting.
They leave the room without looking back.
Hoseok lowers his head sadly, feeling a deep, deep pain in his heart.
“Well, that was just mean.”
Hoseok turns, studying you. You are frowning at the closed door.
“Are you feeling fine?” you ask him.
Hoseok shrugs his shoulders, pouting sadly.
“I am sorry they treated you this way. I’ve also only met them today, so this surprised me quite a lot.”
“You don’t have to be friendly with me if you don’t want to. I know I’m wrong here and that it seems as if sorceress Selen made a mistake.”
You furrow your brows, “but I want to be kind to you.”
“Oh.”
You pat the spot next to you. Hoseok hesitates at first, but takes it in the end. You turn your knees to him, giving him a sweet smile.
“The trick with magic is that you have to visualise it”, you say and lift one of the oranges Hoseok gifted you, “take this orange for example. Visualise how it floats from my palm”, you explain and demonstrate.
Hoseok gasps, staring at the floating orange in awe.
“It is floating”, he says, meeting your eyes. They changed to a purple colour, “your eyes”, he gasps.
“That means that I am using my magic”, you explain and drop the orange again. The purple glow fades away, revealing your natural eye colour.
“The glow stopped”, Hoseok says, “how did you do this?”
“I practiced a lot. I didn’t always have my magic either, so don’t beat yourself up too much. Not everyone discovers their magic as easily.”
“But how did you manage to discover it? You made an orange float, that is beyond impressive.”
You laugh softly, “it is barely a proper spell.”
“Well, it is more than I can do”, Hoseok says and huffs out air in impatience.
“Try it. Visualise how the orange floats.”
“Alright, alright I will try”, Hoseok says and focuses on the orange in your hand. He tries so very hard. He really, really does but the orange stays unmoving. He gives up after a few tries, sagging his shoulders in defeat, “I cannot do it.”
“Don’t give up already, practice each morning until it finally works”, you encourage him and peel the orange, “come, let us eat oranges for now. I have always wondered how royal oranges taste.”
You break it in the middle as best as possible, handing him the second half. You bite into your own half as if it was an apple, spilling juice down your hands. You slurp it up, humming loudly at the sweet taste.
“So sweet”, you exclaim, giving him a smile, “I love oranges so much. My mother grows an orange tree in our garden. I would like to argue that our oranges taste just as sweet.”
Hoseok feels good in his chest upon receiving your smile. It feels genuine.
“Do you like oranges?”
“Yes”, he says and finally bites into his orange as well, “I love them as well. We don’t have them on the Snow Isles.”
“I can imagine. Your home must be so cold.”
“It is, but I must confess that I miss it a lot.”
“Oh, I can imagine that as well. It must be hard to leave your home and your family.”
“Taehyung is my family, so it wasn’t that hard”, Hoseok says and sighs sadly, “I did leave him now however. I hope he is fine.”
“I am sure that he is. He is the prince, he must have everything that he wishes.”
“Yes, I do believe you are right”, Hoseok says and smiles, “thank you for being so kind to me.”
“Please, don’t thank me for that. Here, do you want to share the chocolate as well?”
The next day starts early, but Hoseok doesn’t mind. He is used to waking up earlier than other people. Work at the castle was always endless and it is the servants’ duties to prepare breakfast before the royal family wakes. Hoseok is used to early mornings, enjoying the calm morning hours. He washes himself in the washing chambers, then uses the hours before class to practice on an orange. Becca and Ash come out of their rooms as he practices.
“Why are you here?” Becca asks.
“Because this is my room as much as it is yours, so we can either make this comfortable for all of us by being grown-up enough to attempt to get along or make it uncomfortable by being childishly hostile. I know what I want to choose”, Hoseok throws back.
She doesn’t know what to say to that and so she drags Ash away to the washing chamber. Hoseok concentrates back on his orange. Visualise it. Visualise it. Come now Hoseok, visualise it.
Becca and Ash leave for breakfast soon, paying Hoseok no mind. Good. Complete neutrality to each other’s existence works for him as well.
“Good morrow.”
Hoseok looks over his shoulder, bowing his head at you.
“Good morrow.”
“You are practicing already? Oh, it is too early”, you grumble and drag your sleepy feet to the washing chambers.
Hoseok concentrates on his orange again, but with no results. You come out of the washing chambers before he could make it float.
“And?”
“I have been practicing for so long, but nothing”, Hoseok says, sighing defeated, “I think it won’t work today.”
“Then you will try again tomorrow”, you say and point at the door, “shall we leave for class?”
“Ah yes, the class”, Hoseok’s eyes light up, “can you believe that we will be taught magic?”
“No, it sounds surreal.”
“It truly does.”
Hoseok and you take the seats you took yesterday. Becca and Ash aren’t by their seats, spreading gossip with some girls in the front. Their chatter dies down when Hoseok enters the classroom and soon one of them walks up to him.
Hoseok lifts his head to look at her.
“I heard that you haven’t found your magic yet”, she says.
Hoseok sends a glare to Becca and Ash. They don’t dare to meet it, seeming oh so innocently shy all of a sudden. Gossiping wenches, Hoseok thinks and looks back at the girl in front of him. It is her. The rude girl from the application day.
“And if I haven’t?” he challenges her.
“Then you are wrong here.”
“Settle down, will you?” you warn, but the girl doesn’t listen.
“This is a school for women who know how to do magic, not spoiled boys who had the queen buy his way into it.”
Hoseok is a peaceful person and a slightly nervous person who doesn’t enjoy confrontation. Which is why it is quite surprising that he also cannot stand to be disrespected. He gets up from his chair, stepping closer to the rude girl until he towers over her.
“How about you tell me your name first before you go around insulting me for no reason whatsoever”, he hisses.
“Caria”, she says with confidence in her eyes.
“Caria”, Hoseok repeats calmly, “thank you, I will make sure to include it in my next letter to the Queen.”
Caria falters, “w-wait.”
“I jest”, Hoseok says and shows her an icy smile, “go back to your seat. Caria.”
Caria scurries off with panic in her eyes. Hoseok sends Becca and Ash a glare until they understand what he is implying, then sits back down again.
This is starting to properly anger him. He knows that he is the first boy attempting to learn magic, but these jealous girls are going too far.
“Don’t let them bring you down”, you whisper to him.
“I am not”, Hoseok says and shifts his eyes to the movement by the door.
He straightens up in shock, gawking at her with widened eyes. It is her. The old woman he helped outside the tower walls.
“Good morrow, class”, she says, dragging her old feet to the middle of the room, “go to your seats now, hop hop.”
Confused chatter goes through the room. Some seem to recognise the woman, while others are asking themselves who she could be. Hoseok is confused as well. Why is the old woman here? Why is she acting as if she was the one to teach?
She scans her eyes over the class, lingering on Hoseok just a little longer. She gives him a nod of her head and a knowing smile. It speaks to him, “I told you that we would see each other again.”
Hoseok feels himself bowing his head at her.
“Now very well, you are all seated”, she says, “how have you accommodated in your chambers? Is all well?”
Hesitant nods let her know the answer.
“That is good to hear. Ah yes, that is good”, she says and touches her lower back, “oh my old bones. Can one of you be so kind and get me a chair?”
Hoseok stands up instantly and hurries to get an empty chair. He carries it to her, helping her sit down by holding her hand gently.
“Oh thank you, dear Hoseok. Thank you.”
More whispering. He knows her? How does she know his name? She notices the whispers as well.
“I see that there is great confusion present in this room”, she says, “some may wonder where they have seen me before, some may wonder why I am here and some may wonder why I have addressed one of our worthy students by their name.”
She straightens her back. She seems healthier by the second.
“The secret is dear students, not all is always as the eyes tell us.”
Her spindly fingers age backwards, her once grey hair gains dark colour again.
“Not every person is simply a person one meets.”
Her once wrinkled face smoothes out. Her clothes, once of poor condition, change into that of obvious wealth.
“And not every test of worth is always based on skill.”
The once old, weak woman has morphed into sorceress Selen. Strong, healthy and with magical youth surrounding her. The girls, who noticed the old woman outside the castle walls gasp in horrid realisation that the old woman had been a test they all failed to pass. The girls, who didn’t notice her, gasp at the wonder of transformation unfolding in front of him. Hoseok doesn’t gasp. Hoseok gawks with widened eyes, unable to accept that this truly happened. This is why sorceress Selen’s words were familiar to him. It is because she said the words back to him he told her mere hours before as he helped her in her disguise. That is why the old woman’s eyes gleamed purple for but a moment. That is why he is here and why she didn’t ask him any questions. He had already passed the test without knowing that there was a test to pass.
“Now that the truth is out there, I assume that it is obvious to all why I kept you waiting for so long during the applications”, she chuckles mischievously, “I must apologise dear students, but I had to wait for the person worthy to pass my test and that person, my dear students, was Hoseok”, she says, pointing at him.
Hoseok gulps under the attention, feeling his cheeks heat up.
“Congratulations, Hoseok”, she says and gives him a nod of her head.
He bows his head shyly, keeping his eyes lowered because otherwise his cheeks would have been red as cherries.
“And as I have gathered from some of your shocked whispers”, she continues, “some have not passed my test. Caria, Becca, Heva and Toph I ask of you to go back to your chambers and pack your belongings.”
“What?!”
“Yes you have heard me. This was but a lesson for you. A lesson in kindness for I do not accept cruelty in my school.”
“But…what does this mean?”
“It means that you are not worthy of this school.”
“So why did we get in? Why did you send us this joke of a letter?”
“Why I told you. This was but a lesson for you”, sorceress Selene says, “take from it that you need to grow and work on yourselves. As for the rest of my students, take from it that your position in this school is not set in stone. Many have the potential to harbour magic, but not many are worthy of having it. And that this worth is not solely based on skill. Remember this, my young apprentices.”
“So why is Hoseok here? He doesn’t even know if he has magic inside”, Caria spits, making his heart race in panic.
Sorceress Selen’s features darken.
“Have you no functioning ears to listen? I just told you that worth is not only based on skill. Oh you disappoint me, child.”
Caria closes her mouth.
Sorceress Selen clears her throat and continues, “I get the feeling that Hoseok isn’t the only one who still needs to discover his magic. A barking dog often intimidates those more timid to silence”, she says and she looks at a few girls who seem incredibly shy all of a sudden. Almost as if they were scared to be found out that they neither know how to access their magic. Sorceress Selene looks at Caria and Becca, “wouldn’t you agree?”
“Sorceress Selene, I would like to apologise”, Becca says.
“Oh there is no need. Come back again once you are worthy”, Sorceress Selene says and with a snap of her fingers, makes the four girls she called out disappear.
Loud uproar goes through the room.
“Have no fear, they are just fine. I merely helped them with returning to their rooms. They will have all the time in the world to pack their belongings”, she says and stands up from the chair, “now let us truly begin the lesson. Who of you hasn’t mastered their access to magic yet?”
Hoseok lifts his hand, looking around the room. He is the only one. A deep pit of despair begins to open in his stomach until suddenly, very timidly a girl lifts her hand as well. Ash. She lied in fear of being found out. Another soon lifts her hand after her. Then a third and a fourth until six people including Hoseok and Ash have their hands raised.
“As I have figured”, Sorceress Selene says, “well done, my dear students. Honesty will bring you further than deception. Now, can any of you tell me what gives us our magical abilities?”
“The planets?”
“That is a good answer. Any other ideas?”
“The ocean?”
“Oh most definitely. The ocean can be a powerful source.”
“So many things can be used as a source?”
“Now you are asking the right questions. Indeed they can. However there is one thing which combines them all, which infuses them with magic so we could harbour it”, she says and lifts a purple crystal.
Whispering again.
“Yes, yes indeed. You recognise these crystals, they grow all over these grounds and are often found on our beaches. Glintstone. It is found all over this continent and has been here long before we came.”
You lift your hand.
“Yes dear ___?”
“Where does it come from? Did time form it?”
“Oh no. No, time merely preserved it and allowed the magic in it to become more potent. Long before the age of life, there were the dragons. Not dragons as we know these days, but dragons as big as entire continents. They were beings outside time and created the lands we walk on today. One of these dragons, Razula, was sick. While other dragons breathed ice, fire and molten earth, she breathed glintstone. With each breath she passed, new crystals formed and allowed her magical essence to crystallise. Her illness killed her in the end as the glintstone solidified her flesh. She died where, these days, our Glass Mountains range.”
Ash raises her hand.
“Yes, dear Ash?”
“Does this mean that the Glass Mountains are made out of her corpse?”
“Yes, indeed it does.”
Shared gasps of wonder go through the room.
“She must have been so big.”
“Indeed she was. Our very own mountain, the one catching the ocean and holding this very city secure is part of Razula. The very end of her tail to be more exact.”
Another round of shared gasps.
Hoseok lifts his hand.
“Yes, dear Hoseok?”
“Does that mean that the glintstone she breathed soaked our continent with magic, so we could harbour different elements for magic these days?”
“Very good, indeed it does.”
“So why can we harbour the planets?”
“That is a very good question. You see, our planet isn’t the only one formed by the dragons. Many more are children of them, which is why we have access to their powers.”
“So there were more dragons like Razula?”
“Why would you wonder this?”
“Because glintstone is what gives a source its magic. There must have been more dragons like Razula, otherwise we couldn’t harbour the planets.”
Sorceress Selen smiles proudly. She nods her head.
“It is not with certain proof, but yes it is said that there were more dragons like Razula, who infused the planets with their glintstone and who made it possible so that we can harbour them these days.”
You ask the next question, “why is it not with certain proof?”
“Because travelling between planets or even universes has not been achieved yet.”
Agreeable nods go through the room. This answer sounds logical to all. Sorceress Ciri, the teacher for magical history, enters the room then. She carries a flat wooden box.
“Oh, Ciri! The perfect time! Now dear students, I have a small present for each of you”, sorceress Selen says as sorceress Ciri begins handing out small glintstones, “your very own glintstone. Take great care of it, practice with it and feel its magical properties. That is my task for you.”
Ash lifts her hand.
“Yes, dear Ash?”
“How do we feel its magical property?”
“Oh that is a complicated question. How does one feel anything? Feelings must be felt, they cannot be conceptualised. But very well, to make it easier for you, my young students, magic gives the very tips of your fingers a warm tingle to it. Try to find this tingle and you will have taken yet another step into the right direction.”
A warm tingle. Hoseok looks down at the purple glintstone in his palm. He closes his finger around it. A warm tingle. That is what he needs to look out for. A warm tingle and then he will finally feel worthy of being here.
The weeks are spent practicing with the glintstone sorceress Selen gave each student. During the early hours, the students learn about magic, its history and what can be achieved with it and during the later hours, the students are meant to practice and study in the grande library. Hoseok enjoys his time. He wakes up excited each day, he pays utter attention in the lessons and practices until late into the night. The other students stopped avoiding him now that Caria and Becca weren’t present anymore. Ash and two other students even practice with him each day, exchanging frustrations when the warm tingle never comes.
Hoseok lifts his head upon hearing yet another cheerful exclaim of one his fellow students.
“Sorceress Selen! It is floating!”
“Very good, dear Ainar. Continue this connection”, the sorceress praises and continues her rounds through the classroom.
Hoseok looks at his fellow students. Ainar was one of the people who always practiced with him. Three other people also already learned how to connect to their inner magic. Only he and Ash are still struggling.
“Sorceress Selen! I am doing it!”
Hoseok looks at Ash and the floating glintstone before her.
“Very good, dear Ash. Keep practicing.”
“Good job Ash, you’re finally doing it”, Ainar encourages her with excitement in her eyes.
“You’re doing so well”, Hoseok tells her, earning himself a proud grin.
“Thank you, oh look at me.”
“You are like a proper sorceress now.”
“Yes, yes I am”, Ash giggles.
Hoseok breaks his eyes away from her, trying to hide his disappointment. He is happy for his fellow students for finally finding their powers, but he also can’t deny that he feels like an utter failure himself.
“Hoseok?”
He lifts his head upon being called, meeting sorceress Selen’s eyes.
“Yes?”
“Why are you not practicing?”
“Forgive me, I just took a quick break”, he says and looks at the stone.
“Don’t give up. Yes?”
Hoseok nods his head and takes a deep breath, lifting his hands to continue practicing. He will not be able to lift the stone during the lesson.
They have the weekend free this week and most students use it to finally visit their homes again. Hoseok does as well. He leaves in the early hours of the morning, cradling the glintstone in his pocket and with an orange from the tower gardens to give him energy. He feels happy at the thought of finally seeing Taehyung again, but also a sense of tread because he won’t return as a sorcerer already. He feels like a failure. Why is it so easy for anyone but him to find their magic? Was Caria right? Is he truly not meant to be a sorcerer?
“Hoseok!”
He stops in front the tower walls upon being called, looking over his shoulder. You are running to him, waving your hands.
“Wait up!”
He does. He waits until you reach his side.
“Are you visiting prince Taehyung?”
“I am. Are you visiting your family?”
“Indeed I am”, you say and point at the road, “do you have to walk this way as well?”
“I do.”
“Do you want to walk together?”
“Yes, I would like that”, he says and gives you a smile.
One you retort.
So you and he wander down the road side by side. You pull out two oranges from your pocket.
“I have oranges. Do you want one?”
“Oh?” Hoseok pulls out his own orange, “me too.”
“Oh? Look at us”, you say, having to laugh.
Hoseok laughs as well.
“These oranges are just too delicious.”
“Indeed they are.”
“Ah”, you sigh happily, lifting your head to look at the golden roofs above your head. The sun reflects off the colourful houses and paints the streets in lively colours. It will be a very hot day today, the air smells of it.
“I think I might swim in the ocean later”, you say.
“Yes, that sounds like a good time”, Hoseok says.
“And you? Are you going to practice even during your free time?”
“I am.”
“Oh, Hoseok you work too hard.”
“I am not. You have it easy, you even found your worth in magic already. I still haven’t found my connection to it. I am two steps behind”, Hoseok says and sighs in defeat.
“It will come one day. I promise.”
“Maybe”, he says and sighs again, “can we talk about something else?”
“Of course. What are your favourite beaches to go to?”
“The blue lagoons by the castle.”
“I should have figured. They must very beautiful.”
“They indeed are.”
“You know my brother really likes to swim.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, I am most certain that he will ask me the moment I come home. We always go swimming together.”
“That sounds like a special time for you and your brother.”
“Oh yes it is. He is already ten and three of age, but knows how to swim since only three of age.
“Truly?”
“Yes, I was the one who taught him. I was the age he is now when I taught him. I think that is why it is such a special time for us these days.”
“It sounds very special. I am glad that you have such a deep connection with your brother. I could never form such a deep bond with my sister.”
“You have a sister?”
“Yes, she is older than me by ten years. Just like you and your brother”, Hoseok says with a grin.
You retort it.
“We played a lot when we were younger but when she grew of marriage age, she wanted to spend her time socialising, instead of playing with her childish brother. She is already married and has children these days and I am happy for her. We write a lot of letters to each other, but I never had such special moments with my sister when I was in adolescence. Thank you for being such an older sister to your brother, he might not show it all the time, but those moments mean the world to him.”
“Thank you for saying this”, you say, feeling incredibly warm in your chest, “I truly love my brother. You know, he dreams of being a sorcerer.”
“I know.”
“How do you know?”
“You told me.”
“I did?”
Hoseok nods his head, “the day of the applications. You witnessed Caria slap my arm and then asked if I was hurt. You offered me your water skin and told me about your brother and his dreams.”
“I did, now I remember again. You remembered all this time?”
“I did. If I may be blunt, I remember you quite vividly from this day. You ran late as well and were sweating just as much as I did.”
You laugh.
“It is because of you that the guards even allowed me entrance.”
“Truly?”
“Yes, they refused at first because I am a boy.”
“No. Truly?”
“Yes, sadly.”
"Oh, how rude. This wasn’t their right to do.”
“Worry not, I already paid them back.”
“You did?”
“I pretended to be royalty on the first day because they saw the royal carriage I came in.”
“And they believed you?.”
“They even apologised.”
“Oh”, you let out and laugh loudly.
Hoseok laughs with you.
“Serves them right. Nobody should be refused access just because they are a boy.”
“Yes, I agree.”
You and Hoseok converse until the conjuncture where you have to go your separate ways.
“I have to go this way”, you tell him.
“I have to go this way”, Hoseok says and points in the opposite direction.
“So I believe that this is where we have to say our goodbyes.”
“Yes, I believe so.”
“Do you want to come with me for a bit? I would love to introduce you to my family.”
“I feel beyond honoured, but I truly have to go. Knowing Taehyung, he is already waiting impatiently.”
“I see”, you sag your shoulders in defeat but shake it off quickly, giving him a smile, “there will be a next time.”
“I believe so. I will bring chocolates then.”
“Oh, they would love them so much”, you say with sparkling eyes.
“Very well then. I will see you again next week”, Hoseok bows his head at you, “have a good weekend.”
“You too. See you soon”, you say and leave with a wave of your hand.
Hoseok watches you skip down the street. You turn when some distance is between you and him, searching for him. Your face lights up when you see him. You lift your arm to wave at him one last time, doing so until Hoseok finally waves back. You turn with a big smile on your face, skipping happily until the crowd swallows you and Hoseok cannot see you anymore. He smiles to himself and turns to take on the road to the castle. It isn’t far anymore.
Taehyung is waiting by the gates, jumping into a sprint the moment he notices Hoseok. He calls his best friend’s name, falling around his neck with such vigour that Hoseok stumbles from the impact. He even wraps his legs around his waist, knocking a belting laugh out of Hoseok, who is destined to carry his weight.
“You are such a rascal”, he laughs.
“I missed you. I missed you terribly!” Taehyung tells him in excited yelps.
“I missed you as well”, Hoseok says and drops him gently. He hugs him back as tightly as he can, “I was so excited for today.”
“Me too, oh me too.”
They hug for some time, breaking apart only because hugging for an entire day is rather frowned upon by the public for a prince and his servant to do.
“How have you been?”
“Good. You?”
“Good, just so incredibly bored without you. I keep rereading the letters you sent me and everything you describe sounds so interesting”, Taehyung babbles as the two men walk to Taehyung’s leisure room.
“The school is wonderful. I keep finding myself pinching my own skin because I cannot believe that it is real.”
“I can imagine. Is it really true that there is glintstone everywhere?”
“Yes, it is everywhere. Look”, Hoseok says and shows Taehyung the small glintstone.
Taehyung gasps, widening his eyes in curiosity.
“Sorceress Selen gave each of us a glintstone to practice magic on. It grows everywhere.”
“Is it true that it makes the faintest sound when you brush your hand against it?”
“It does. Even air makes it sing.”
“How wonderful”, Taehyung gasps, “can I touch it? Please?”
“Yes, once we are sitting down. I do not want to lose it.”
“I understand. It must be very precious, mustn’t it?”
“Yes. It is supposed to help me find my connection to magic.”
Taehyung and Hoseok have reached his room, sitting down by Taehyung’s painting table.
“Are still having troubles with it?”
“Sadly I do”, Hoseok says, “I do not know why it is so terribly hard for me, but it is.”
“Do not lose hope yet. I am certain that it will come to you very soon.”
Hoseok gives him a smile before lifting the stone into his vision.
“Do you want to hold the stone now?”
“Yes. May I truly?”
“Yes. Open your palm.”
Taehyung rests his hand palm side up on the table, watching with curious eyes as Hoseok places the stone into his palm carefully.
“It is cold.”
“It is. I have been carrying it in my pocket all day.”
“How is that possible? You should have warmed it.”
“Indeed, but glintstone never warms up unless its magic is channeled. Isn’t it wonderful? It stays cold no matter how much you warm it.”
“This is remarkable”, Taehyung whispers, caressing it gently, “and it is truly a dragon’s breath?”
“Yes. Razula. She existed long before our time with the other dragons.”
“I know. Her body makes up the Glass Mountains these days. Oh Hoseok, you have no idea how often I reread your letters. I learn so much about this continent because of you. It is so fascinating. We are walking on the creation of dragons. Dragons so big they form entire mountain ranges and countries. I cannot believe it, yet it is true.”
“It is beyond fascinating, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I feel so excited each time a new letter arrives. Your chamber mates sound so wonderful as well.”
“They are. We didn’t get along at first because they were weary of me because I am a boy, but we talk a lot these days.”
“That is so wonderful to hear. The girl you share a chamber with sounds very kind.”
“Yes ___, she is the kindest person. She paid me company when nobody else did. She is very kind”, Hoseok says and blinks his eyes dreamily.
“Beautiful as well?”
“Oh yes, quite beautiful actually”, Hoseok says. He sees no weirdness in Taehyung’s question as the young prince calls many people beautiful. He is an artist after all and sees beauty in all shapes and forms.
“Do I sense a hint of affection in your voice?” Taehyung asks, sending sudden nervousness to Hoseok’s chest. The mischief in Taehyung’s eyes only strengthen Hoseok’s coyness.
“What? No, not like this. Oh, I would never disrespect her in such ways”, Hoseok insists with flushed cheeks.
“You keep mentioning her in your letters.”
“Yes, well. Well, that is because…Taehyung no, I would never. She shows no signs of interest. How disrespectful would it be of me to see her in such a light? She is merely a very good friend.”
Taehyung grins knowingly, “very well, if you say so.”
Hoseok clears his throat loudly, wishing for his pulse to slow down again.
Taehyung places the glintstone on the table and scoots closer to Hoseok.
“Do you have more stories to tell? I want to know everything you learn and experience”, he ask.
“Mhm”, Hoseok thinks for a moment, “I do”, he exclaims.
“Tell me. I want to know”, Taehyung is practically sitting on the edge of his seat in utter curiosity.
“Long ago there was a sorcerer at this school.”
“A sorcerer? So boys can learn magic?”
“Yes, well”, Hoseok hesitates for a moment, “forget it. I just remembered that this is a rather sad story to tell.”
“No please. Now you must tell me. What happened to the sorcerer?”
“Well”, Hoseok begins with a saddened sigh, “we have entrance to a system of caves. The caves are filled with glintstone, their songs always fill the air.”
“Oh how wonderful.”
“The sorcerer always practiced his spells in these caves and because he was surrounded by their potent magic, his powers grew more and more each day.”
“Oh no, this doesn’t sound good. Did he hurt someone?”
Hoseok shakes his head, “do you know that the glintstone breath was Razula’s curse?”
Taehyung nods his head, “yes, it was a sickness which killed her in the end. She turned to glintstone and died this way.”
“The sorcerer suffered the same fate.”
Taehyung gasps.
“One day, the magic grew too powerful for him and turned him into glintstone. His crystallised body is still in the caves until this day.”
“Oh this terrible. I feel so sad for him”, Taehyung gasps, “what a gruesome way to die.”
“Indeed”, Hoseok agrees.
They share a moment of silence in respect of the cursed sorcerer.
“He is the reason why there aren’t boys allowed at school.”
“What say you?!”
“Yes”, Hoseok nods his head, “Sorceress Ciri, she teaches magical history, told us that because of him, the school decided not to take boys as students. She said that his greed for power would show in other boys as well and they did not want to risk it.”
“This is terribly unjust. This sorcerer was greedy, but it wasn’t because he was a boy.”
“Indeed. Some of my fellow students said the same thing. I felt very welcome when they said it.”
Taehyung smiles, “I think it is very good that they spoke up”, he caresses his friend’s arm, “and that you managed to get in.”
“Yes, me too. Now all I have to do is find my connection to magic. Oh Taehyung, I feel so helpless. Everyone in my class has already found their connection. Some even found their worth already, while still I haven’t found my connection yet.”
“Their worth?” Taehyung asks, tilting his head to the side in question.
“There is magic all around us and everyone can find a connection to it. However, only a few are worthy to truly wield magic. The worthy people are marked by the magic. Some grow purple markings on their skin, for some their eyes change into a purple shade and for others, their hair turns purple. It is a visual sign that the magic deemed this person worthy. It isn’t just enough to connect to it, the magic must accept the person.”
“So it isn’t truly the person’s decision to learn magic, but that of magic itself?”
“Yes”, Hoseok says and sighs in defeat, “and I even struggle to connect to it. How should it ever see me worthy?”
“Well”, Taehyung begins, “Sorceress Selen thinks you worthy and I believe that this must mean something.”
“What if she was wrong about me?”
“I truly do not think that she was. I also think that you are worthy.”
“I know. Thank you. At least one of us needs to believe.”
“Yes, I will continue to believe. I will believe with such passion that it will be enough for both of us.”
Hoseok smiles fondly at his best friend.
“You are truly such a light, Tae”, he says and reaches out to caress his hand, “I am grateful to have you as my best friend.”
#hoseok fantasy#hoseok romance#hoseok fanfic#hoseok fanfiction#hoseok oneshot#hoseok scenario#hoseok x reader#hoseok x you#bts fantasy#bts romance#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts scenario#bts oneshot#bts x reader#bts x you#bangtan fantasy#bangtan romance#bangtan fanfic#bangtan fanfiction#bangtan scenario#bangtan oneshot#bangtan x reader#bangtan x you#taehyung fantasy#fanfic: queendom series
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Carson and Malone: The Beginning
Carson and Malone had always been the best of friends, even through the tough moments of growing up they had always been close. Even through both had two different personalities, Malone being a more outgoing guy and Carson being more shy. And being different species as well, the two were the bestest of friends and nothing could break them apart. Carson being a light brown spotted anthropomorphic fox and Malone being a Dark Gray anthropomorphic salamander.
The beginning of high school was the first moment that things changed for Carson. Carson for the past few summers, has been going to summer camp. There he met new friends and even a friend he’s really enjoyed talking to and hanging out with, even outside of came. Thomas, was gay, and Carson was curious about Thomas’ experience as Carson was a bit confused about his sexuality.
After camp that summer, Alex had gone to his friend group and came out to them that he was dating someone named Mike from camp. They were a bit surprised but were overly supportive and happy for Carson. Malone was happy for Carson too! But after a month goes by, Carson slowly grew more sad and emotional as Mike had completely ghosted him. Not responding to any text. Carson had texted Thomas, and Mike and Thomas went to the same school. To his horror, Thomas had replied that Mike was in a relationship with someone. And sent a photo he posted with a caption that hurt Carson even more; ‘Me and my first ever BF!’
‘I’m sorry he did that to you Carson, are you okay?’ Thomas 12:27am.
Carson was heart broken. He couldn’t believe that this was happening. All that time spent together? That night he was locked out of his cabin and Thomas inviting him to stay in his cabin and sleeping in the same bed? That all meant nothing? Carson cried for awhile until he grabbed his phone again and scrolled to a certain name.
‘It’s over, he did ghost me’ - Carson 1:20am
Carson didn’t expect a text back as it was pretty late, so he turned his phone off and curled in his blankets sobbing to himself. A mess of self loathing and mind spiraling. *Ding!* Carson snapped out of his spiraling, and slowly grabbed his phone and turned it on, peeking through the layer of tears over his eyes.
‘What? I’m sorry Carson. How do you know did he finally message you?’ Malone 1:24am
‘I messaged my friend from camp, he said he’s dating someone else now’ 1:25am.
Carson’s fingers started to get shaky.
‘I’m so sorry Carson. Fuck I’d come over to be there for you but my parents are still awake..’ Malone 1:26am
‘It’s okay dw rn, I feel horrible, I’ve been so obsessed with waiting for responses I’m a fucking loser’ Carson 1:28am
‘You are not a loser Carson! That guys just a dick. Fuck him. You didn’t deserve to be dumped like that. You’re a great guy Carson.’ Malone 1:29am
Carson agreed but it didn’t feel like it at the time. His heart felt shattered and torn up. Sure it was a high school relationship and those never really work out, but it was different for him, Carson had thought. Maybe it was the distance between them? Maybe it was just a fling during camp? Camp was boring enough, maybe it was just a way to have fun. He was never given an answer at the time for why, which made him more miserable than before.
Carson was already going to therapy for a previous incident, so the break up became the main focus of their talks for a long time. He had eventually told his mom and her awesome boyfriend Rodney that he was gay and got dumped. He didn’t care if they supported or not, but he was happy to see they were both supportive of him, and even took him out for pizza.
Flash forward to Junior year of High School. Carson and Malone’s friendship had shifted a little bit this year. It was Miguel’s birthday, Malone’s best reptilian friend, and being the rich guy of the group, took everyone out on his yacht for a fun party!
At one point during the night Malone had disappeared, and Carson noticed. He looked around the whole yacht and eventually found Malone crying at front of the yacht. He walked up to Malone slowly and gently asked what was wrong. It hurt Carson to see Malone so upset by something, he had always seen Malone always so positive and happy.
“My parents they uh, had admitted that me and Quinn were mistakes. They especially didn’t want me.” Malone looked out into the massive lake as he spoke.
Carson had no idea how to respond to that, but he had to, obviously. Malone had always been there to make him feel better, so it’s time for Carson to do the same. He had sat down beside Malone and talked.
Eventually saying something that would get Malone to feel a bit better, “Well, I’m glad you were born, Malone. Otherwise I wouldn’t have met you.”
Malone had chuckled a little while tearing up, and quickly came in and hugged Carson tightly, and he hugged back. They held a hug for a good minute.
“I’m glad too.” Malone whispered.
After that day, everything seemed to be okay again in their lives. They eventually graduated high school together happy as can be, both heading to the same community college together as well. Most of their friends had moved or went to other colleges, but Carson and Malone agreed to apply to the same Community college before transferring to a University. As best friends do. Malone wanted to become a professional baker and chef, while Carson wanted to become a painter. He had a few years of experience as well. But life had other plans. When one day Malone had introduced someone to Carson that made his heart sink.
“Hey Carson! I wanted to introduce you to Courtney! We started dating today! She’s amazing! Courtney, this is Alex. Alex this is Courtney!” Malone smiled as he had his arm around this beige colored anthropomorphic rabbit.
‘DATING?!’ Carson screamed in his mind.
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and baby makes four (or five)
(mpreg, pre-relationship geraskier, mutual pining, pregnant jaskier, vague mpreg setting, roach is also mom, baby horse, horse trivia, 1.5k, read on ao3)
Jaskier pets the newborn foal’s still-damp mane and grins to himself. The tiny horse—Little Roachie, he decides—is laying on the ground, surrounded by soft hay and dozing peacefully. He deserves it after the ordeal—well, Jaskier believes it counts as one. The foaling almost gave him heart palpitations, but Geralt says everything went just as planned and both Roach and the baby are safe and sound.
And they are, finally, when the entire day has passed and the moon is high in the sky.
The witcher himself is feeding the mare their last apple. If the doting was bad before, it has definitely gotten worse since she became a mom. It’s not like anyone could fault Geralt, Jaskier reckons. Although the sight of the almighty White Wolf indulging his horse is way too precious, not that Jaskier will ever say it to his face. As much as he loves to see Geralt embarrassed, it might be unwise to upset his friend and get left in the middle of this backwater town in his current conditions.
Jaskier cradles the bump that is his stomach and feels his baby peacefully asleep too. Despite the barn being floored with thick hay, the sitting position is growing uncomfortable with everything weighing down on his midriff, and it won’t be long until his back starts aching again.
The foal jerks in his sleep, and Jaskier completely forgets about himself.
“Shh, it’s all right. Just sleep, darling. You must really need it if you’re so tiny. Look at how tiny you are.” His hand travels down to its leg and then the hoof. The hoof wall feels soft, or at least, less hard than what one would imagine for an adult horse. A soft gasp escapes his lips as his fingers reach the bottom. “Oh, Geralt! Come and see!”
The witcher hums absently as Jaskier picks out the straws and dirt obscuring his view and cradles the newborn foal’s hoof in his palm. There’s a layer of padding covering the sole. It’s … kind of spongy, and moist to the touch.
“Fascinating,” Jaskier muses as he pokes and prods the soft tissue, amazed at the weird texture and irregular shapes. When he looks up, Geralt is crouched beside him, leaving Roach to chew on the last of her treat.
“Newborns have those,” he explains.
“Will it hurt him when I touch it?”
“I don’t think so.” Geralt’s gaze falls on the small baby, the corners of his eyes crinkle ever so slightly. “The cushions develop during the last term of pregnancy. It protects the mother from all the kicking, and later during the birth. They’ll wear off as soon as he learns to stand.”
“Wow,” Jaskier croons at the foal, “you are such a gentle baby, aren’t you? Know to protect your mum, huh?”
His arm tightens around his own expanding waistline. The bump has gotten so big in the last few weeks Jaskier still gets taken aback every time he walks in front of a mirror. Looking down on it, the worry that’s been churning in his stomach resurfaces, the dread rising inexplicably. Jaskier hates to admit it, but he’s so, so nervous about what comes after. Sure, he looks forward to meeting his child, but just the thought of pushing a person out of his body is enough to send a shudder down his spine.
Jaskier chews on his lips. The silence hangs in the barn.
It’s Geralt who breaks it first. He sits down next to Jaskier gradually and crosses his legs, making sure the sleeping foal is still in sight.
“All babies are as gentle, Jaskier.” Golden amber eyes meet Jaskier’s, and they are filled with warmth and unvoiced understanding. “You never needed to worry for Roach.”
“But anything could have happened. She’s never had a baby before and we didn’t even notice for so long. The whole thing just … came out of nowhere. If something had gone wrong—”
“Nothing did,” Geralt says, more firmly this time. “I wouldn’t have let anything happen to her. I was here to make sure of it.”
Looking at the sincerity on the witcher’s face, Jaskier knows neither of them is talking about Roach anymore, and he can’t resist the upturn of his lips. It is true that Geralt did everything he could for Roach, setting her up at this farm and making sure she’ll be cared for after. Even when the mare got anxious the past two days, Geralt has been nothing but patient with her.
“Besides,” Geralt adds, tilting his head, “She’s strong. She can get through anything for her baby.”
A lump suddenly forms in Jaskier’s throat. His eyes prickle but he won’t let the tears fall. Not again. Even pregnant, it would be too mortifying for him to cry for what must be the one-hundredth time this week, and he won’t let Geralt make fun—
A kick lands on his bladder and oh boy it hurts. Jaskier chokes out a breath and curls into himself. “It seems—ahh, this one is bad—it seems that my baby could use some tips from Little Roachie here.”
“You can’t compare human babies to horses, Jask,” Geralt chuckles but rests his hand over the top of the bump and starts rubbing little circles, soothing the tiny but anxious person within. As always, it does the trick and the kicking gradually calms down. Jaskier isn’t sure if he should be jealous of this apparent superpower of Geralt’s or just glad he’s here. “Also, Little Roachie? Really?”
The warmth of Geralt’s palm is nice, seeping through the thin tunic and into Jaskier’s taut skin underneath. It takes a second for him to respond, “Are you not naming him Roach?”
“Why would I name him Roach?”
“Because you name all your horses Roach?”
“But, Jask, he’s Roach’s baby. It’ll be confusing.”
Jaskier blinks, incredulous.
“That,” he pauses, “is confusing?”
“Yes,” Geralt answers like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Six mares in a row having the same name was never a problem, but mother and son is where you draw the line.” Jaskier shakes his head. “Well, I’m glad there is a line somewhere.”
Jaskier lets out a string of giggles, bending backward and almost hitting the wall. When he finally ceases to find the witcher’s logic so amusing, Roach herself has sauntered near them. She’s probably heard her name and also wants in on all the fun.
The mare reaches down and headbutts Jaskier on his chest, almost touching his stomach. Geralt grows tense and ready to block her. It’d be sweet of him if the overprotectiveness isn’t so unnecessary.
“Oh, relax! Roach and I are the bestest of friends now.” Her muzzle touches Jaskier’s palm. “Motherhood has softened her. Look!”
“Hmm.”
He coos to Roach for a while until her attention returns to the once again unnamed foal. Jaskier finds himself completely knackered and ready to turn in. He yawns just in time.
“What a day, huh? Well, I don’t know about you but I could fall asleep in the next five minutes.”
“Oh.”
Geralt stands first to pull Jaskier up with steady hands, the movement so effortless it even makes Jaskier feel less bloated and sluggish.
“Will you—” Jaskier adjusts the hem of his tunic. “Will you stay with me? Like yesterday. It’s—I, um, I’ve been having trouble with all the kicking, as you know, and last night was the first time I got any rest in weeks.”
Geralt stares, his golden amber blown wide.
“You don’t have to, I mean,” Jaskier adds too quickly. “You help. Like just now, and you’ve been helping me for the past few months, even with everything going on with Roach. I don’t want to burden you further, but I just … I think the baby likes it a little better when you are there.”
And Jaskier likes it a lot better.
That part he can’t say though.
“Of course,” Geralt says, and a weight Jaskier didn’t know was carrying lifts off of his chest. “If it’s more comfortable for you.”
“Right. It is.”
“And, Jask … I know I might be overstepping. The baby is only yours after all.” Geralt swallows nervously, if witchers can get nervous talking to a simple bard. A simple bard who never expected to be pregnant and is terrified. “But if you need me, I can stay with you. Through everything, this … and after, as long as you need me.”
The lump returns. Jaskier meets Geralt’s gaze in earnest and all he can see is the devotion, the safety. Because that’s what Geralt is, his best friend and protector. The world may disagree, but Jaskier knows better from walking by his side for so many years, from never having been abandoned despite all the threats. He knows from the way Geralt leads him back inside with a hand on the small of his back and a smile in those amber eyes.
When the baby moves again, Jaskier can’t wait to drag Geralt’s hand over his stomach. Geralt looks awestruck, like he’s watching a miracle unfold before his eyes when it’s no more than a little person reacting to his touch.
“I think,” Jaskier says. “I think we’ll be just fine.”
“Of course. Both of you will.”
And for the first time, Jaskier might start believing it.
---
I leaned that thing about baby horsies in this youtube video. Please feel free to correct me if I got some facts wrong. I love horse trivia! <3
#geraskier#geraskier fic#mpreg#pregnant jaskier#mutual pining#pre-relationship#emotional hurt/comfort#insecure jaskier#supportive geralt#soft geralt#protective geralt#baby horse#foaling#roach is mom#horse trivia#the setting of mpreg is very vague
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bloodline. | james potter
thank u, next x marauders
alexa, play bloodline by ariana grande
pairing: james potter x reader (fake dating au)
summary: after lily breaks up with james, you offer to pretend to be lily over the christmas holidays
word count: 10k (i deeply apologise)
warnings: language, mentions of food and eating, sexual jokes and innuendos (nothing explicit or smut), a whole lotta angst but a whole lotta fluff
a/n: a can't believe i wrote so much for this man. anyway, this is probably my favourite thing i’ve ever written to enjoy - Kennedy
***
The common room was a ghostly quiet, but that was expected at this time of year. Tinsel decorated the mantelpiece by the fireplace, the smell of nutmeg and cinnamon wafting through the air. In the corner, a large, oak tree sat, it’s leaves standing tall and proud, juxtaposing against the scarlet walls. Christmas was the reason for this tranquil atmosphere.
Except, that wasn’t the case for everyone. Unfortunately, you wouldn’t be going home for the holidays this year, opting to stay at Hogwarts to get in more study time. It felt like nearly all students were going away this year and the ever growing loneliness was catching up to you, weighing your mind down, a foggy haze resting over your eyesight.
You turned your head, looking up at the clock on the wall. It was nearly one in the morning, which meant that there were usually more students in the common room. The train was leaving back to London tomorrow - well, today - so you assumed that they would all be getting some rest. The only sound that filled the common room was the fire crackling and some light whimpering.
Light whimpering?
That definitely caught your attention. Straightening yourself up on the chair, your eyes scanned the dim room, searching for the source of the noise. It was quiet, but prominent, and it definitely sounded like someone crying. The sniffling painted a picture in your mind of someone’s broken face, eyes red and puffy.
There was something wrong though. Your intuition was getting the better of you. You recognised that voice, but you just couldn’t put your finger on it. Sure, you had friends, but you weren’t close to anyone, close enough to know what they sounded like when you cried.
By now, the crying was loud enough to attract the attention of anyone that would pass by. Your book, laid forgotten on your lap, was brushed aside, as you sat up, ready to find the source of the crying. There weren’t many places to hide in the common room, so it struck you as odd that you couldn’t see anyone.
Following the whines, you crept to the corner of the room, where the cries never stopped and seemingly carried on through the wall. A smile stretched across your face, a mystery forming in your head. Pressing your palms against the wall, your tenacious fingers searched the wallpaper for anything, small incisions, lumps, maybe a door handle. In the lack of light, you didn’t notice the small hole in the wall, letting your finger slip through the wallpaper. Curling around your knuckle, you tugged slightly, opening the secret door you had just found in the wall.
Letting the light slip into the tunnel, you noticed the figure curled up in a ball. His suave messy hair, paired with the thin, round glasses on the ground gave away that it was James Potter who was crying in a secret tunnel at one in the morning.
Your heart broke in an instant. James was actually a very close friend, having helped him and his marauders out multiple times on their pranks and overall mischief. You had met James in the first year and you were the bestest friend he had outside the marauders; he had told you multiple times. Many times you had laid together in the common room, shoulders touching, staring up at the ceiling, enjoying each other’s presence. It was comforting. He was comforting.
But right now, he needed comfort.
A lone piece of parchment was peeking out of his arms, which you carefully plucked away, not focusing on the ink scratched in. Soothing his shaking muscles, you ran your hands up his arms, him immediately calming down at your touch. When you felt like he was feeling better, you reached down, sitting against the wall next to him, placing your arm around his quivering figure. Your fingers found his lonely glasses on the ground, bringing them up to his face, trying to coax his hands away from his reddening cheeks.
The moment you met his eyes, you could feel his pain. His normally bright, cheerful eyes were filled with salty tears, staining his freckle-covered cheek in a sheen of sadness. It was the envisionment of pure anguish.
“Jamesie,” you started, voice quiet as to not shock the obviously patronised boy, quivering next to you, “can you tell me what’s wrong? I want to help you, love.”
“It’s-” He sniffed, voice croaky, “Lily. It’s Lily.” He struggled to keep his gaze on your face, opting to look at his fiddling fingers in this lap. “She broke up with me. A few hours ago.”
Your heart failed. Lily broke up with James? But they were perfect together. For the past two years, it was always James and Lily, Lily and James, high school sweethearts. They were so happy, so why would she end it?
The sadness creeping up inside of you soon turned to wrath, a fire burning wildly in your chest. Red clouded your vision as you felt your fist curl up in anger, fingernails digging into your skin. You only stopped when you felt James’ hand resting on yours.
“Why?” You asked. It was a dumb question, but it was the only thing that came to mind, wanting to keep the attention off of your growing asperity.
“Dunno,” James shrugged, turning back towards his corner. “She said that she wanted to take a break. Had no idea why though. Thought everything was going swimmingly.” His voice was laced with sarcasm, a nice contrast to his tearful expression.
“What a bitch, right before Christmas.” The words fell out of your mouth without you registering it, your eyes scanning the room as you chew thoughtfully on your bottom lip. You didn’t know how James' face grimaced at the mention of Christmas, a pink tint growing on his face, but not from the tears.
Turning around, you saw James with his head in his hands, an excreted groan vibrating from his vocal chords. “Fuck!” He swore, “She was supposed to be coming to meet my parents this Christmas. Now, I have to owl Mum to tell her that’s she’s not coming, oh no-”
He paused, rubbing his eyes together. “This is going to ruin Christmas. Mum and Dad are going to be fretting over me all Christmas. I wish she could’ve just waited until after the holidays.”
It really did seem like James was in a predicament. You had never met Euphemia or Fleamont Potter, but you did know that they were described to be some of the most lovely people to be blessed on this Earth. Even through your tight friendship, you hadn’t met them yet.
Then, another problem rushed through your mind. Lily was now going to be staying at Hogwarts during the holidays, and your blood was boiling. It was going to be difficult to stay in the same room as her without lashing out in defence of James.
“I don’t want to have to deal with Lily for a whole week.” You muttered under your breath, unaware that James was hanging onto every word you said.
“You’re not going away over the holidays?” James asked, eyebrows furrowed together as he scanned your face for any insight. Sighing, you shook your head in response.
“Nah, normally stay.” You pondered for a moment. “Do you think that Lily is gonna be unbearable over Christmas? I might as well just stay in the Room of Requirement all Christmas.”
Then, a thought came to your head. It was almost genius, a bright light twinkling in your eye, your mouth slightly agape. You sucked in a small breath, watching as James eyed you curiously, before a slim smile stretched across your face.
“I have an idea James, but please, I want you to stop me at any point if you feel uncomfortable with this. You are grieving in a way and I don’t want to undermine that. Promise me you’ll shut me down if you don’t like it, okay?” You noted that his head nodded up and down, letting you continue.
“What if I pretend to be Lily? Your parents have never met her before, right? Or me, for a matter of fact. I can come to yours for the holidays and pretend to be Lily to keep the Christmas cheer. When the week is up, we can stop fake dating and you can send a letter to your parents a few weeks later saying that Lily broke up with you. Christmas saved, no pestering parents, and I don’t have to spend a week with the insufferable Lily.”
There was a silence that followed, James gawking at the ground as his mind churned over what you had just said. Then, he spoke.
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“If that’s okay with you. I mean, it’s just fake dating, right? For like a week? Are you okay with that?”
You exhaled a deep sigh of release, followed by a hearty chuckle. “Of course I’m okay with it. I suggested it, remember? And besides, we’re friends. Best friends, if anything. Everything will be fine.”
“What about Sirius and Remus? They’re staying over the holidays too. Are you sure they can keep the secret? That, you know, you’re not actually Lily Evans. You’re Y/N L/N.”
“Yeah, I think they can.”
***
“We can’t keep that secret.”
You and James and just explained what the plan was. It was the morning of December 21st, a fresh layer of snow had just been laid on the ground. Wrapped carefully in many layers, students of Hogwarts had bundled up into the crimson train, ready to go back to London for a week.
After explaining to Professor McGonagall that last minute plans meant you could go away in the holidays, she had let you onto the train, where the four of you sat in a carriage, laying out the details of you and James’ awkward plan to fake date for the Christmas holidays.
Sirius had found the whole prospect of the situation immensely funny and had been laughing ever since you told him. Remus - the more serious one of the two, ironically - wasn’t too keen on the idea, a look of disappointment plastered on his face like an angry parent.
“You can’t just lie to Euphemia and Fleamont. They’re your parents, James. Surely they’ll know you’re lying?”
“That’s the brilliant thing!” James had surely brightened up overnight. After talking for a bit, you helped James into bed, hoping that a good night sleep would change his mood slightly. Unexpectedly, his mood changed more than slightly; almost drastically. He was cheerful, his teeth glowing in the daybreak sun, enthusiastic talks from across the common room. It was a rather stark constraint from the glum Lily Evans who was moping around, as if she was the one who got dumped only the night before. “They’ll never know! They haven’t met Lily, nor Y/N! Sure, they’ve heard about both, but they won’t connect the dots.”
Anxiously, Remus looked at Sirius for guidance, except Sirius hadn’t stopped laughing, glistening tears of joy beading at his waterline, a hand clamped over his chest. You rolled your eyes at his tomfoolery, focusing your attention on the still uncertain lycanthrope.
“Remus, please?” You begged, pouting your lips. “It’s just one week. Please just lie for one week.”
It seemed as if his brain was clicking into place because after a moment, a smile replaced with frown, with him sticking his hand out. Eagerly shaking it in agreement, your mood lightened significantly.
The rest of the train ride, you went over everything that you needed to know about James and Lily’s relationship, if it came up. Firstly, they got together in February of year five, 1976. You fake barfed at the fact that their relationship sprouted from Valentine’s day, an opinion that the others giggled at. Secondly, James had told his parents that Lily was a muggleborn, so you would probably get bombarded with questions about muggles. You didn’t mind though; you were muggleborn yourself.
Next, you had to make some rules to keep boundaries between James and yourself. First, let James answer questions about the relationship, while you have to make notes and remember. Second, only refer to you as Lily in communal spaces, as Euphemia or Fleamont could appear at any moment. Three, physical affection is fine, almost encouraged, but no kissing on the lips.
As everything was settled, the train pulled into King’s Cross Station, the horn blasting through, grabbing the attention of the energetic students, ready to stretch their legs. Nervously, you kept still in your seat, an anxious stomach ache coming on. You felt sweat beading at your forehead as you finally realised how nervous you actually were.
James took note of this though, grabbing your hand and rubbing the back of it soothingly, calming your tense nerves. It seemed impossible, this task at hand looming over you, but you had to keep calm. You knew you could; in all honesty, you didn’t know why you were feeling so worried all of a sudden. Giving in, you took James’ hand and followed the three boys out onto the platform.
You followed the gaze of the three of them before your eyes landed on an older looking couple. A lady was standing there, dark brown hair pulled tightly into a ponytail, streaks of grey peaking through. Harsh smile lines protruded through her skin, a warm and inviting look on her face. Next to her, a taller looking man stood proudly next to what you assumed to be his wife. His feathery hair was combed back and the same round glasses as James sat comfortably on his peaky nose. You could only assume that this was Euphemia and Fleamont Potter.
Walking over, you stayed quiet as James greeted his parents first, pulling them into a tight hug. Immediately, you noticed how much of a mummy’s boy James was when you saw him unconsciously seeking comfort from his mother. It hurt to see him not being able to get what he needed in the moment. You looked away, afraid that you might’ve started to cry if you continued looking for any longer.
Fleamont greeted Remus and Sirius like they were his own sons, engulfing them in a hearty hug, lovingly slapping them on their backs. You watched as the affection oozed from James’ parents, a warm feeling growing in your chest. It was admiration.
Then, you felt a tug on your sleeve, looking back to see James’ trying to grab your attention. Giving him an inquisitive look, you noticed Euphemia, arms open, a beaming smile on her face.
“You must be Lily. Come in, dear.” It felt wrong as you dove into her arms, letting her motherly love wash over you like a tidal wave. Pulling apart, you felt the guilt twang in your chest, the name of Lily echoing in your mind.
That wasn’t you.
But you continued to smile. You smiled through your greetings with Fleamont. You smiled through the light banter they shared with James’ friends. You smiled through the small talk. You smiled through aparating to the Potter’s house.
As you stepped through the front door, you were greeted with an adorning archway, the walls endlessly covered with family photos. Everything about the house was inviting. A lingering smell of fresh baking settled in the house, as the light from the window perfectly captured the chandelier, a thousand rainbows dancing around the room.
As you stepped into the entrance way, you watched as Euphemia gestured the four of you up the staircase, down a hallway littered with doors. She stopped at a room, a sign with ‘Sirius’ on it, labelling you it belonged to. You beamed, remembering how this was now Sirius’ new home.
“I hope you don’t mind Remus bunking with you Sirius. I pulled out a spare mattress.” Euphemia addressed the two boys, who eagerly piled into the bedroom, grinning like a kid in a candy store.
“You too, this way.” You looked over to James, but his face was contorted into something unreadable, only smiling when he noticed your staring, giving a reassuring squeeze of your hand. You brushed it off though, your mind blurred by the thought of following Euphemia.
“Here’s James’ room,” Euphemia stopped in front of a door that was decorated by a Gryffindor flag. “Make yourself at home, sweetheart. I hope you’re still okay with sharing the bed? James said that was fine in our last letter.”
You inhaled tightly through your nose, clenching your jaw. You looked back at James, whose face was once again turning a bright red, his lips slightly parted as stutters started to spill out. “Well- I- actually-”
“Sounds great, Euphemia. Thank you so much for your hospitality.” Impatient to leave the awkward situation, you gestured to James to enter his bedroom, trailing in behind you, keeping a faux smile on your face, up until the door closed behind you.
In an instant, apology after apology spluttered from James, trying to explain. You were vaguely listening, although you were more focused on the room around you. You liked the detail and the Gryffindor pride. Moving posters of different Quidditch players lined the walls, covering the red and white wallpaper. In a corner, a pile of muggle vinyls were stacked together, tied together by a pink ribbon, which you could only assume was gifted by Lily. The room was surprisingly tidy, different to the state of James’ dorms back in Hogwarts.
“I like your room.” You finally spoke, dragging a finger across a chest of drawers. A thin layer of dust rested on the pad of your finger, which you rubbed off on your skirt before turning back to the panicked boy before you.
“Did you hear anything I said?”
“Don’t worry about it, James.” You comforted him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You forgot; that’s okay! I honestly don’t mind. It’s sort of what I signed up for anyway.” You laughed, hoping James would join in. He did.
***
Dinner went alright. You stayed quiet most of the time, only speaking when spoken to. You didn’t think Euphemia or Fleamont noticed, but you did get a peculiar look from Sirius, seemingly smirking at the way James and your seats were placed so close together.
After excusing yourself from the dinner table, you helped out in the kitchen with Fleamont, drying the dishes and putting them away in the cupboards. You were lost in your own thoughts, drifting off, keeping a smooth rhythm as you stacked plates.
“Lily, can you pass me the soap dispenser please?” You almost didn’t register what he was saying, a muted hum escaping your lips, until you realised you were being addressed. After apologising profusely for your tardiness, you handled the soap bottle to Mr Potter and carried on, hoping he wouldn’t start a conversation.
He did anyway.
“How’s James been treating you?” Fleamont quipped, a sly grin on his face. You knew what he was implying and shook it off, trying to keep the conversation as ambiguous as possible.
“Good. He’s been good.” He didn’t seem to buy it. “Lovely as always.” You gulped discreetly, disguising your nervousness as a yawn, which wasn’t missed by Fleamont.
“My dear, you look tired. You better retire for the night.” Nodding and saying your goodnights, you trod up the stairs, into the bedroom, where you were met by James, where only pajama shorts, reading Quidditch Through The Ages on his bed. You smiled, knowing that it was one of his favourites. He looked up when he saw you enter, smiling sheepishly, pointing towards the ensuite door.
“You can get changed in there, love.” Humming in agreement, you took a spare change of clothes into the bathroom and quickly returned, having brushed your teeth and washed your face as well. It wasn’t that late, but you felt inordinately tired, feeling as though you could pass out.
Collapsing on the soft bed, you pulled the duvet covers over your torso, letting your head hit the soft pillow. You nearly missed James whispering a small “goodnight darling” before falling into a dreamless sleep.
***
Tuesday 22nd December
Day two of whatever this was supposed to be had begun. Sunlight was streaming in through the windows, not uncommon as James had always been an early bird and must’ve opened them himself. He wasn’t in bed when you rolled over, but you did notice the harsh sound of running water and an overwhelming smell of apple shampoo seeping into the bedroom.
Getting into some fresh clothes, you heard the water stop, buttoning up the last button on your blouse as James waltzed back into the bedroom, before seeing you. He stood like a deer in the headlights, water running smoothly down this toned skin, wearing only a towel around his hips.
“Why is it that I always catch you shirtless?” You tried to end the awkwardness by making a joke, reaching into James’ drawers and pulling out the first shirt you saw, throwing it across the room.
Because of James’ Quidditch skills, his fast reflexes caught the soaring shirt, catching it in one hand, unintentionally flexing his biceps. You shouldn’t have been staring, but the situation was too hard to read.
After standing still for a moment, you regained intelligence, snapping yourself out of your gaze. Muttering a quick apology, you dashed out of his bedroom, closing the door behind you. Pressing your back to the newly closed door, you shut your eyes tight, trying to forget the fresh memory in your mind.
“Trouble in paradise?” You opened one of your eyes to see Remus standing there too, novel in hand, also having his back pressed against the closed door.
“Shirtless.” The only words that could fall out of your mouth, making Remus bark with laughter, before clamping his hand over his mouth, an inch of sympathy showing in his eyes.
“Can’t be that bad of a sight, can it?” He joked, egging you on. You clutched your hands up to your face, trying to hide the blush on your cheeks. It was so embarrassing, but the worse past was that there was still so much more to come.
“Shut up Lupin.” You stuck your tongue out playfully at Remus, before bolting down the hallway, hoping to help Euphemia out with breakfast, like you said you would last night at the dinner table.
You were efficient in the kitchen, once again keeping talk to a minimum. Except today, you were feeling more comfortable with Euphemia, a more natural conversation gracing your time. It felt easier to speak. Maybe it was the fact that you had just had a good sleep, or maybe it was that you were actually feeling somewhat at home at the Potter’s residence.
Just as the bacon seemed to be completely cooked, James bursted through the door, Sirius and Remus in tow. James seemed to be the only one nervous, as the other two boys sat down at the table gleefully. Dishing up the breakfast, you handed the plates out to everyone.
Lastly, you handed a plate to James, trying your hardest to not make eye contact. You only stiffened when you felt James’s soft fingers accidentally brush against yours, tensing your muscles immediately.
“There you go,” you spoke in a voice so everyone could hear, “sweetheart.” You hissed the last word out in gritted teeth. Instead of sitting next to James like last night, you opted to sit directly in front of him, something that didn’t go unnoticed by James himself, who gave you a curious look at your choice in seating arrangements.
But before he could talk with you about it, you had finished your breakfast, immediately bouncing back into the kitchen, avoiding all signs of the messy haired brunette who was lurking around the ground floor.
The rest of the day followed a similar pattern. Mundane tasks, followed by awkward conversation, and running away. It wasn’t what you had thought when you offered the idea to fake date, but you realised how hard it actually was to pretend to be madly in love with someone.
It wasn’t until later in the night, when you were getting ready for bed, that you overheard James talking with Remus and Sirius. You knew you shouldn’t, but after hearing him say your name, you were too curious not to eavesdrop in. Pressing your ear against Sirius’ door, you prayed that Euphemia or Fleamont wouldn’t walk past any moment now.
“How’s it going with the whole fake dating thing?” It was Sirius’ voice, and there was a cheek to his voice. You rolled your eyes at his blatant teasing.
“Honestly, I don’t know.” It was James speaking this time. “Everything was going so well, especially yesterday, but after today, I’m a bit worried that my parents won’t believe.”
“What do you mean?” Remus’ voice held a question, an obvious inflection at the end of the sentence.
“I just wish she was a little more, you know,” a pause, “tactile. At least, a little more affection. She’s not playing the part well.”
You should’ve been hurt by James’ words but instead, you felt immense anger, and for what? You didn’t understand why you felt so annoyed by James’ harmless comment, but you did.
Begrudgingly, you languidly stomped back to James’ room, burying yourself under the covers, pretending to be asleep. You didn’t want to talk to him at the moment, in fear that you would just snap at him for the comments that he was making behind your back.
When James came back in about half an hour later, you felt a feeling of pressure being lifted from your chest, breathing easily as James tucked himself on the other side of you. You didn’t know why, but you felt like it was so much easier to sleep now that you knew that James was beside you. And so you did.
***
Wednesday 23rd December
It was an accident. You didn’t mean to wake up at the piss crack on dawn, wrapped in James’ arms. Sometime during the night, your sleeping form must’ve found its way to James. Your head was tucked in the crook of his neck, the soothing sound of his heartbeat rippling out. You felt safe.
Until you remembered that you were supposed to be mad at James. Carefully so you didn’t wake him, you slipped out of his arms, letting yours legs fall off the edge of the bed. Your warm toes made contact with cold hard wooden floors, making you jolt up in surprise. Looking back, you saw that James was still asleep, so you sighed, peeling out of the bedroom.
It was winter, so it wasn’t even that early in the morning. The grandfather clock in the living room was showing that it was just about to be seven, and that was good enough for you. Taking initiative, you decided to start cooking breakfast yourself, remembering the open invitation Euphemia gave you to use the kitchen whenever you want.
Cozying up to the stove, you placed the palms of your hands just over the radiating heat of the stove top, reveling in the delicious warmth that was defrosting every muscle in your body. Your mind was working overtime, trying to remember what James’ favourite breakfast was.
If James wanted an affectionate girlfriend, then he was going to get himself an affectionate girlfriend.
Mixing together a sweet pancake batter, you welcomed Euphemia into the kitchen. Praises filled the room, as you poured the dough into the pan, letting the bubbles rise to the top. In the meantime, you took out the bowl of fresh strawberries in the fridge, letting them come to room temperature on the kitchen counter tops.
Once again, James entered the kitchen right as you were serving up. Making sure it was as noticeable as possible, you sent a massive wink his way, catching him off guard. Grabbing a chopping board from the cupboard, you started slicing the tops off of the strawberries, to which James stopped you.
“Let me help darling.” He spoke, his morning voice making you feel something in your stomach that you weren’t expecting. Butterflies? Surely not. You shook the thought away, focusing back on flipping the pancakes on the stove tops.
After serving another freshly cooked pancake, your attention was pulled to James, a dopey smile on his face, strawberry juice staining his lips. “Y/- Lily, come over here.”
A bitter feeling rose in your chest at hearing Lily’s name, but you pushed it away, walking over to James’ workstation. He had a strawberry in his hand, beckoning you over to taste it. An idea sprouted in your head as you sashayed over, swinging your hips slightly.
You did what James wanted you to do, bending over slightly to place your lips around the sweet berry, letting your loving ‘boyfriend’ feed you. What he didn’t expect was after you had eaten the strawberry, you latched into his hands, wrapping your mouth around his fingers and gently sucking off the rest of the strawberry juice. It had caught him off guard but that’s what you wanted.
Today he was going to get all the affection you could give him.
At the breakfast table, you sat beside him, resting your hand on his thigh as you ate, leaning into him as you laughed at a joke Sirius had made. It wasn’t that funny but you wanted to prove a point. You wanted to prove that you could play the part of the doting girlfriend.
Soon, after breakfast, the Potter’s decided to go for a walk, so everyone joined in. Wrapping each other up in as much warm clothing as possible, everyone bundled outside together, minding the brisk breeze that was blowing through.
Holding James’ hand, you strolled calmly together, leaning your cheek against his arm and shoulder. He didn’t seem to mind, but he didn’t keep sending you strange looks as you continuously clutched his arm, running your fingers up and down his skin. You couldn’t tell if the goosebumps were from hesitation or the cold.
It started snowing quite heavily so they decided to head back inside. James and Remus had been caught up in conversation for most of the walk, about who was better at wizard’s chess and had agreed to a competition to decide for once and for all.
Curled up on the couch, you sat beside James, one and curled around a mug of cocoa and the other places upon James’ thigh. He let you, nodding when you hesitated on placing your hand there the first time.
About an hour into their little competition, you felt a haze settle upon your eyes, rendering you tired. It was late afternoon though, not a good enough time to go to bed. Yawning, you placed your mug down on the coffee table, and stretched out over the couch, placing your head down on James’ lap. Subconsciously, his left hand followed the movements of your head, latching onto a piece of your hair and twirling around his finger.
You never slept, but you rested your eyes. You didn’t know for how long until you felt the familiar sound of Euphemia’s dream-like voice, calling you to dinner. Hurriedly, you placed a mushy kiss against James’ cheek and sat in the usual spot at the dinner table.
By now, conversation flowed more easily than it did the day before. You were now beginning to feel safe in the Potter environment, opening up to everyone more, letting yourself join the conversation.
When you were going off the bed, you placed one last public kiss on James’ cheek before lacing your hands together, pulling him up to the bedroom and winking at Sirius and Remus, knowing full well what it was suggesting.
Once you got behind the doors though, you were off him in an instant, searching through your bag for a spare change of clothes for the night. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you, getting ready for bed in your own separate bubbles. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to speak to James, it was more that you didn’t know what to say to him after today. You were afraid that you had crossed a line.
“What was that today?” James finally broke the silence, a crack in his voice as you spoke. You spin around, a fake smile creeping onto your face.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.” His voice was cool, sending shivers down your spine. Your smile dropped, replaced with a frown. You could almost feel a few tears edging at your waterline, threatening to spill over if you weren’t careful.
“I’m sorry.” You started, fiddling with your fingers. “It was just- I overheard what you said last night. You said you wish I was being more, uhm, tactile.” You felt embarrassed to say the word. “I just wanted to put in a bit more effort. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
James stayed quiet as he settled into bed. You followed suit, getting it just behind him. You faced away from him though, as your cheeks were now being stained by your tears.
“Y/N?” You heard James call from behind you, but you didn’t turn around.
“Hm?”
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable. It was just strange seeing so much affection from someone who wasn’t Lily.” He paused. “Thank you.”
“Goodnight Jamesie.”
“Goodnight Y/N.”
***
Thursday 24th December
Once again, you woke up in James’ arms. Once again, you weren’t sure how you got there, but you weren’t complaining either way. Once again, you moved out of his arms before he noticed.
A new occurrence this morning though was he woke up by your movement.
“Oh, good morning love.”
Your heart fluttered at the nickname, although you didn’t know why. You kept your eyes closed, as they were still heavy from last night’s sleep. Unfortunately, it was plagued by fluffy dreams, all lead by a familiar bespectacled boy. You shook the thought from your mind, trying to open your eyes, but you couldn’t. You could barely mutter out a greeting.
“Hmm.” You grunted in acknowledgment, burying you head in the pillow. It smelt like James. A smile crept on your face without you realising.
“Tired?”
“Hmm.” You let out another whine, this one more pitiful, as you nuzzled you head against James’ arm, wanting to feel his warmth once again. Chuckling, he wrapped an arm around you before placing a calculated kiss on top of your head.
“Stay here darling.” You didn’t have to be told twice. As James left the bed, you stayed put, falling down where James was previously sleeping, laying horizontally along James’ bed as you fell back into your slumber.
You didn’t know how long you were out for, but you didn’t wake up to the sound of the creaking door opening and the clinking off ice against a glass of water. You tentatively opened one eye, letting in as much light as you would allow, adjusting to the new found sunlight. Slowly, you opened the next eye, so you could properly see what James was doing.
In his hands, he carried a breakfast tray, adorned with fresh ciabatta bread, yogurt, and a bowl of strawberries. The clinking sound before was coming from a glass of icy cold water, sitting next to a vase of peonies. Your favourite flower. You flushed at the fact that James had remembered something so miniscule.
“Breakfast in bed for the princess.” James joked, letting you sit up filling before placing the tray on your lap.
“What does that make you then? A prince?” You continued the joke, folding back a bit of the duvet to let James hop back into the bed too. There was double of everything on the tray, so you assumed one helping was for James.
You gave him a plate of breakfast as you slowly miches on yours, your mind too preoccupied to think about breakfast. All you could think about was why you were feeling so nervous around James. Why was your heart racing? Why were your cheeks flushing? Why were your hands clamming up?
“Open wide.” You whipped you head around to see James with a goofy grin on his face, holding a strawberry in his hand. Remembering what happened yesterday, you took a bite of the berry, purposely not continuing how you did yesterday and licking his fingers.
A disappointed pout returned to his face. “No finger sucking? Aww what’s wrong?”
“Did you want me to suck your fingers, Prince James?” You poked him playfully on his side. “It would be highly inappropriate. We aren’t even married yet. What a scandal.” You spoke in an over the top British accent, mimicking stereotypical royal figures.
“Oh, don’t worry Princess Y/N, I wouldn’t mind have you in my bloodline.”
“Hm, Princess Y/N of the Potter residence.” You jokingly thought for a moment. “Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
As you giggled together, you heard a knock at the door, followed by a “I’m coming in.” The doorknob turned and Euphemia emerged from behind the door. “How is my happy couple going?”
You kept the smile on your face, not letting it falter and break character. A little voice in the back of my mind was angry, upset that Euphemia had interrupted the moment, but ultimately you thought that maybe it was for the best. You needed to keep the flirting for the public eyes only.
“Hey Mum.” James cheered. You looked back to him and noticed the same smile on his face, like it hadn’t fallen. Like, he hadn’t even noticed that Euphemia had called us a couple.
“It snowed again last night so we’re snowed in for the day. Do you two have any plans?” She asked, her eyes flickering from between us.
“I have a lot of homework to do so I might do that today.” You spoke quietly, a little embarrassed that you wanted to do homework. You didn’t actually want to do homework, but you felt like you need to be occupied by something, to control an inner urge that was bubbling inside of you.
“Come on!” James whined, letting his head fall down on your shoulder. You got immediately warm from his touch. “It’s the holidays! You can’t seriously be doing homework?”
“I have stuff to catch up on.”
“Like what?”
“Like, um, stuff.”
“Would you kids like to do some baking for Christmas tomorrow?” Euphemia suggested, to which James lit up like a Christmas tree, completely infatuated by the idea.
“Yes, yes, yes.” James repeated, rushing out of bed, but carefully enough to not spill the tray everywhere. You followed suit, pulling on a dressing gown and entering the kitchen with an enthusiastic James.
That’s how the rest of the day went. You and James stayed in the kitchen all day, still wearing your sleeping pajamas, fooling around and baking.
You started with making Christmas cake, but soon found out that James was rather good at baking himself. He took the reigns, busily working as you helped out, doing the chopping and measuring for him.
At one point, James’ eyebrows were furrowed together in concentration for over two minutes. You were getting restless, the perfection needed for baking boring you, so you decided to have some fun. Pinching your finger together, you gathered up a handful of flour, flinging it at an unsuspecting James. He turned around slowly, his cheek covered in white powder, before an evil grin consumed his face.
“Oh, you’re on, L/N.”
That’s how most of the baking went with James that day. Joking around, flinging ingredients at each other. By the end of it, you could hardly tell the difference between the kitchen floor and your aprons.
At the end, you had made Christmas cake, gingerbread cookies, and a loaf of bread. Happy with your haul, you went into the living room to call the rest of the members of the household to inspect the food.
“Come see what we made.” You and James called, standing underneath the archway from the kitchen and the living room. As you were about to step away, you heard a halting sound.
“Uh uh, wait up.” You turned back around to see Fleamont with a cheeky smile on his face, pointing at the two of you. You didn’t know what he was pointing at but Euphemia, Sirius, and Remus did, following Fleamont’s arm and laughing when they saw it.
Gazing upwards, you looked to see what the big fuss was about. Your face fell in an instant. Hanging above you and James was a freshly picked mistletoe plant.
You grimaced at the thought, feeling guilty. It was one of the rules you had set. No kissing on the lips. Surely Remus and Sirius knew that, but they were too busy laughing their asses off to remember.
Looking back at James, you gulped. You stared up at his cerulean blue eyes, your hand shaking beside you slightly. James’ eyes were raking your face, searching for any sign of consent. You nodded soon after realising what he was doing and you let him cup your face, bringing you closer than you’ve ever been.
“Are you okay with this?” James whispered for only you to hear. You kept leaning forward until you were only millimetres away from touching when you breathed out your last word of consent: “yes.”
Your lips met in the middle. It was soft and sweet, not wanting to push what was already fragile. James’ left hand stayed cupping your cheek, holding you face still as his right hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. It was magical, as if all your happiness you had ever felt was wrapped together and given to you right there. You had your hands resting on his chest, feeling his racing heartbeat underneath you like a song from the heavens.
When you pulled away, your eyes lingered a little longer in James’, the eye contact you were holding inescapable and passionate. Your head felt heavy, your eyelids weighing you down as a wave of exhaustion hit you like a freight train. Discreetly, you yawn behind you hand, a gesture that wasn’t missed by James, who reached out for your wrist, running his thumb up and down your hand.
“Let’s go get you some sleep, hm?” An affirming sound escaped your mouth as you trailed behind James. Back in his bedroom, you collapsed on the bed, your lips still tingling from the sensual kiss just moments before.
The two of you were silent as you got ready for bed. Working harmoniously beside each other, you changed, and did your repetitive nightly routine, just to end up in the same place as always; on opposite sides of the bed, unable to make conversation. Luckily for you, James was onto it.
“I’m so sorry,” he started, but when you tried to butt in, he cut you off, continuing his rant. “I knew that was one of the rules and I broke it. I should’ve just said no and I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that. You didn’t deserve to have your boundaries crossed. I’m sorry for pressuring you into something you weren’t ready for.”
You stayed silent for a moment, soaking in his words before you began yourself. “James, I didn’t mind. You didn’t take advantage of me. It’s completely okay. And what’s that famous saying, rules are meant to be broken.”
Your pathetic attempt to joke was shut down as James didn’t say anything, nor move, just staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought. Huffing, you rolled over, trying to let slumber take you away, but you couldn’t. There was a chill in the house tonight, another snow storm heading your way. You shuddered as a draft blew through.
“You’re cold.” James finally spoke, yet it was an obvious statement, as you were still shaking under a blanket, your teeth starting to chatter.
“Come here.” You turned around, seeming as if you had misheard him, but you saw what you were afraid of. James’ arms were wide open, beckoning you to fall asleep with him wrapped around you, keeping you safe.
So you did.
***
Friday 25th December
Christmas morning was perfect. As you fluttered open your eyes, you once again found yourself situated in James’ arms, the only difference was that he was awake too, his radiant smile beaming down on you, making you feel warm and cuddly on the inside.
Breakfast was simple, as everyone was mostly preparing for Christmas lunch. You tried to help out as much as possible but Euphemia always shut you down, insisting that you had helped out enough and that you needed a break. So, you sat patiently on the couch, munching slowly on an apple, the juice running smoothly down your face.
“Good morning Lily.” James had appeared beside you, placing a soft kiss on your temple. The words falling from his mouth were more acidic than the juice dripping from your chin. Your returning smile was filled with bitterness, something James picked up on, his nose scrunching up as he surveyed your emotions.
“G’morning Jamesie.” You slurred, gritting your teeth together, detesting the name you were just called. Still unable to figure out why, James gave you a look, a look that just said “what?” It hurt, knowing that he wouldn’t know why it spurred you on so much.
Fleamont soon joined you in the living room, taking the armchair in the middle of the room, burying himself in the comfort. Politely, you nodded towards him, acknowledging his presence, but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“How did you two sleep?” He asked, gesturing between the two of you, to which you both smiled.
“Just fine, thank you, any you?” You responded for the both of you, feeling James’ hand curl around you own, his fingers intertwined with yours.
“Just fine, although, I was walking down the hallway during the night and I noticed something peculiar.”
Unsure of what he meant, you egged him on. “What did you notice?”
“Your bedroom door was open, son; the pesky draft must’ve opened it. There was moonlight streaming in from the window, and I noticed the two of you curled up together.” Fleamont looked directly at you. “I didn’t realise the two of you were at that stage of your relationship.
As Fleamont winked at the two of you, your mouth fell open, appalled, as James was laughing like a maniac beside you. It wasn’t until Euphemia came into the living room to break apart their banter to get together for Christmas lunch.
It was a peaceful meal of casual conversation and light jokes. You stayed quiet most of the time, actually rather enjoying listening in on the fascinating stories that Euphemia and Fleamont were telling about James when he was a child. Soon, the conversation turned towards the future, and all eyes were on you.”
“Dear, what would you like to do when you leave Hogwarts?” It should’ve been an easy question to answer but you were stumped, unsure if you should answer as Lily or as yourself. Unable to think of something Lily would say, you decided to answer as you would.
“Actually, I want to study in a muggle university. Literature, or maybe anthropology. I’ve always been interested in learning about the world and my heart has always been somewhat attached to the muggle world. It’s where I want to flourish.” Embarrassed by your little monologue, you flushed a deep red, before turning back towards your ham.
“How inspiring,” Euphemia said, clapping her hands together in delight, “and what about marriage? Have you thought about settling down?”
You almost choked on your food at the question, catching you completely off guard. All eyes were on you and James now, with Sirius and Remus trying not to disturb anyone as they laughed in the distance.
“Uhm,” you looked at James for guidance but he also seemed just as uncomfortable as you were. “I haven’t thought that far through, to be completely honest.”
“Oh, but dear,” Euphemia looked positively thrilled. “We would be absolutely delighted for you to join our family. Lily Potter, my beautiful and caring daughter-in-law.”
“Okay, how about we clean up now, yeah?” Thankfully, James had broken up the conversation, offering to clean up the plates. Eager to leave the uncomfortable situations you helped bring in the stacks of food, offering to split it up, and repackage it for later consumption. You worked efficiently, avoiding anyone with the last name Potter at all cost.
When everything seemed to be tidied up, the Potter parents insisted that everyone sit around together for the gift giving portion of Christmas. Quietly, you rushed back to the bedroom, getting out the small gifts you had brought everyone for the Christmas season while you were out the other day.
Sitting amongst everyone, it felt like everything was back to normal. No more awkward conversations about the future plagued the atmosphere, just joyous laughter and pure happiness circling the room.
Firstly, you gave small presents to Sirius and Remus, including some quills for school, and gunpowder for pranks. You gave Euphemia and Fleamont some Christmas fudge that you had found, as well as a thank you note, thanking them for letting you stay over the Christmas season. Lastly, you handed a small box to James, a lacy ribbon decorating it.
“Open it.” You spoke in an almost whisper, as James’ fingers fiddled with the ribbon. As it fell open, you heard the small gasp from James, as he took the chain out of the box.
It was a small silver bracelet, yet it was decorated by a tiny, dangling gem, the colour of the deep blue ocean, something that seemed to have enchanted the bespectacled boy.
“It’s a sapphire.” You said, running your fingers over the cold chain. “It’s supposed to represent honesty, trust, loyalty. Everything that embodies you.” You spoke with so much weight in your chest, speaking from the deepest depths of your heart. Everything you said was true.
Swooping down, James pressed a kiss to your cheek, whispering a hushed “I love you” under his breath, so faint that you weren’t even sure if you were supposed to hear it.
The rest of the presents were handed out, until there was only one left underneath the Christmas tree. With a smile on his face, Fleamont reached down underneath the tree, grabbing the package and passing it to you.
It should’ve been a happy moment, a moment where you truly felt like you belonged in the Potter house. It did at first as the smile seemed to never be able to falter, until you stared down at the packaging, noticing the name ‘Lily Evans’ written in cursive. A single tear ran down your face as you realised something harsh in that very moment. It was always going to be Lily Evans, never Y/N L/N.
The feeling got worse as you carrot undid the wrapping paper, revealing a collection of polaroid photographs. They were all different shots of you and James throughout the holidays. Curled up on the couch, baking in the kitchen, out on the walls, sucking the juice off of his fingers. The last one made you laugh as you remembered the memory that had now turned fond.
“I love them. Thank you so much.”
The day was mostly mundane, just filled with more activities, like chess, or cleaning to fill in the time. It seemed like everyone was just waiting for the snow to melt, so they could all go back outside again. You knew James was just itching to play with his Quidditch set outside.
Strangely enough, you found yourself outside in the snow, wrapped up tight from the weather. The snow had stopped falling for a peaceful moment, so you thought it would be the perfect time to get some fresh air, away from the overwhelming company.
You were soon joined though, as you heard the front door open and close from behind you. You didn’t even have to guess who it was as they stood beside you, taking in a deep breath, exhaling visibling in the frosty air.
“How are you doing?” James looked over to you, his eyes laced with concern. You shrugged, smiling that he seemed to care about you. It warmed you.
“Overwhelmed, but you’ve been perfect. All thanks to you, I think they might actually believe it.” You were now completely facing James now, looking up into his deep, aquamarine eyes, watching as the tint changed when the light hit the irises at a different angle. It was mesmerising.
You weren’t the only one mesmerised though. James couldn’t stop staring at your beauty. The way your eyes sparkled in the light. The way your skin catched the light snow that was starting to fall. Your lips.
“Can I kiss you?”
The question caught you off guard, but it left you feeling unsatisfied. Before you could even respond, you had James by the collar of his sweater, pulling him down ever so slightly so your lips could meet with his. It was light fire and electricity, a thousand gusts of wind blowing through you, spilling into you like an endless thunderstorm. You kissed him like it was the last time you were ever going to see him, hungry, desperate, passionate.
You were in love.
***
Saturday 26th December
You had fallen asleep on the couch, slumped with James as he cocooned your sleeping body between his limbs. Unfortunately, your slumber had been awoken in the early hours of the morning by banging on the front door. Groggily, James got up, rubbing his head with his hands.
Running your fingers through your hair, you got up with him, putting on a sweater to make yourself look more presentable. James’ sweater, to be exact.
The four other residents of the house had now awoken from the persistent knocking and had joined us downstairs. It was just after sunrise so everyone was sort of dazed and out of it. With one last eye rub, James swung the door open to reveal the person standing there.
Lily Evans, with her hair like a roaring fire, cheeks naturally rosy, and eyes glinting like a morning sunrise, she stood there, clutching her hands nervously. As soon as she saw James though, she flung her arms around his neck, burying her head in the crook of his neck.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” A string of apologies came out of her mouth as tears started running down her cheeks, dark mascara staining her porcelain skin. A confused look was shot my way as Euphemia just stared between the two of us, unsure of what to do.
“Hello darling.” Euphemia’s motherly voice was out to play. ”If you don’t mind me asking, who are you?”
“Oh sorry for not introducing myself.” Lily removed herself from James’ figuring, wiping her eyes on her sleeves, as she stuck her hand out to be shaken. “I’m Lily Evans, nice to meet you.”
Then, Lily noticed your looming form sending a curious look your way. It wasn’t the only look of confusion. Euphemia and Fleamont were almost unreadable as you flicked between the two of them.
It was time to come clean.
“This is Lily Evans, my ex girlfriend.” James had the same idea as you, introducing the red headed girl to his parents finally.
“And this is Y/N L/N, my close friend.”
Friend.
That’s all you were. That’s all you would ever be, compared to Lily.
It took a bit of explaining and sitting Fleamont and Euphemia down to fully explain the plan. You started off with the breakup and then talked about the devilish plan, saying that all you wanted to do was keep Christmas light and cheery. All you got were uncomfortable looks from James’ parents.
When everything was laid out on the table, Fleamont got up and left, obviously disappointed in the choices you and his son had made. Euphemia looked as though she had just swallowed a bee, lips pursed as she contemplated the next move.
“Well, Y/N,” the name fell bitterly for her lips; it sounded so foreign, so unnatural. “You are happy to stay with us until tomorrow. It was nice to finally meet you.”
That was the full extent of the conversation. For the rest of the day, it seemed as though Fleamont and Euphemia were keeping James and you away from each other, always asking one or the other to help with chores, or to do a mundane activity with them.
It wasn’t until night time dawned on the residence. The atmosphere had unfortunately changed after Lily’s short and unexpected visit. Her exit was speedy after her unprompted entrance, an uneasy ripple of tension in the house.
When it was time to sleep, Euphemia had shown you to a spare room, taking initiative to set you up somewhere separate, now knowing that you weren’t actually dating James. It was cold though, empty and alone, and as you tried to sleep, your hands kept trailing to James’ side of the bed, searching for him.
You took it upon yourself to take matters into your own hands. Creeping through the house, you found yourself outside of James’ bedroom door. Quietly, you knocked, waiting a few seconds before entering. James was lying in bed, eyes wide open, staring at the open curtain which was letting in trickles of moonlight. When you entered, he looked back at you, his lips parted slightly in shock.
“Can I…?” Your voice trailed off as you couldn’t bare to finish your sentence in embarrassment, but James seemed to know what you were alluding to, pulling back the covers almost immediately.
“Of course.”
***
Sunday 27th December
You woke in early hours of the morning. It was intentional, not wanting to be found in James’ bed again. It would be scandalous. You laid back in your new bed, closing your eyes for a moment, hoping you could go back asleep, but sleep couldn’t find you.
Before breakfast had started, you had packed you bags, ready to catch the train at ten o’clock. An early breakfast run was needed as you munched some Christmas leftovers, opposite sides of the table from James. You still hadn’t talked about what had happened. Even last night, you had only just cuddled until you both had fallen asleep. Your feelings till needed to be addressed.
Hurriedly, the four Hogwarts students were aparated back to King’s Cross Station by Euphemia and Fleamont, both with sorrowful looks on their faces. They were hugging their son goodbye, then moving onto Sirius and Remus, hugging them like they were also their children. You shifted awkwardly in the group.
“And we can’t forget you, now can we, Y/N?” It was still strange hearing your own name come from their lips, but you welcomed it, slightly happy to be the only receptor of the love now. As you were pulled into a jug by Euphemia, you could hear the last words she spoke to you. “Thank you for looking after my son. I’d be happy to have you as my daughter-in-law.”
Last minute goodbyes were said as you all bundled up onto the train, finding a carriage right in front of where Euphemia and Fleamont were standing. You waved cheerfully at them as the train pulled out of the station, a chapter of your life closing.
You hadn’t noticed Remus and Sirius had stepped out of the carriage, giving you and James some much needed privacy. There wasn’t much that needed to be said though. Everything that needed to be communicated had already been done through awkward glances and small looks.
“Hey.” His voice was almost silent.
“Hey.”
A pause.
“What are we?”
“Whatever you want to be.” You eventually said. James hummed in agreement, resting his head in his hand.
“Onwards?”
You smiled.
“Onwards.”
#James potter#James potter x reader#James potter fluff#James potter angst#harry potter#marauders#marauders era
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Cradle | Sakusa Kiyoomi, Iwaizumi Hajime
Synopsis: First is love; in the forms over the years you come to know. Then second is grief and loss; and how the struggle that comes with it defines and reshapes you. And finally third is acceptance, where you realize that the awakening to love and life’s questions have always just been in the palm of your hand.
This story is for those who shielded themselves from love before it could even hit them.
Characters/Pairings: Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader x Iwaizumi Hajime | Seijoh 3rd years (friendship)
Genre/Tags/Warnings: Slice of Life, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Slow burn, Seijoh4!Friendship, Cellist!Sakusa, Musician!Reader, Hajime lmao, Mutual Pining, Love Triangle, Happy Ending!!, Character death, mentions of spiraling
WC: 17.5k
a/n: a month long wip! this one is all for you, mom. i broke my heart writing down these memories, but i hope you read this on the other side. + big thank you to @introvertedfangirlpower for the cello facts! really helped me :)
playlist: Message to Myself - Roo Panes
ko-fi | commissions
For you, love began in the unknown.
You say unknown because you don’t remember much of your childhood other than the flashes of residual warmth that came with the memory of your mother. For as long as you can remember, she always felt like that: warm and familiar—like home.
Her presence like the warmth that stays on your coffee mug long after you’ve consumed your drink. Warmth like sitting in front of a fireplace as you watch the last bits of firewood extinguish in the flames.
And your fondest memory perhaps—warm like the hands that cup your face and kiss your forehead every morning before you left for school.
The early years in your life meant days spent in planted gardens outside of a kitchen window where the pink and yellow flowers bloom in the spring, and jumping in the fallen leaves raked in a pile centered in the backyard in the late autumn.
Then in the winters, when it became too cold to lay in blankets in the backyard stargazing for constellations—you’d spend the Christmas nights listening to bedtime stories about her time traveling the world you have yet to explore. “You’ll fall in love with seeing what’s out there,” you recall her saying as she tucks you in bed with the green blanket she knitted for you when you were a baby.
Though you suppose even if you loved the winter months with her the best—you could never go wrong with sipping the iced tea she’d leave for you on the porch in the afternoons you spent outside in the summers. The iced tea she made was always the best: never too sweet, and never too bland either.
And for the most part of your childhood, your father was absent. You didn’t really care; his absent never lingered. So even when the bratty kid from the classroom next to yours would brag about the brand new jacket her papa bought her from a trip overseas—you didn’t care. The jacket you wore was still the same one from last year, and the scarf wrapped around you was the one she knitted two winters ago, but the way she wrapped you up and kissed your nose made the taunting escape your mind.
Your mother would tell you stories about the times when you were a baby and of how she’d tuck you in nice and snug in your blanket whenever she felt the room was too cold and then fan you out when the temperature rose. Apparently, when you were a baby you never cried too much so she was left to guess whether you felt comfortable enough with the room’s temperature or not. She always finished the story by saying you smiled at her either way so she supposes she guessed right every time.
You don’t question it because she guesses right every time.
During father daughter dances that were annually held in your school, your mother always made sure to take the day off of work early so the two of you would have dinner some place nice instead. Her jokes were better than the ones your dad halfheartedly chucked your way when he did come to visit anyway, so you didn’t mind.
Your father ringing you up three hours before the dance with the last minute classic excuse of “sudden meeting today, I’m sorry.” didn’t bother you as much as you think it should have when your mom was right next to you ready to tell you another story from her younger days.
Her “younger days” as she liked to call it was always a favorite topic of hers that she always returned to from time to time. At eight years old, it felt like there was so much of the world still to explore and despite her telling you to live your childhood to the fullest, you didn’t ask what it meant and requested to hear an encore of the story she just finished telling.
She’d smile and you’d hear her tell you that no, and that you should have listened, but you know during the “father daughter” dinners shared between the two of you, she was extra soft and that it would take nothing more than pleading eyes and one more “please” before she’d relent and tell the story again.
She was always enough; every second with her felt just right—and if there’s something you never regret during your childhood, it’s those times where you’d ignore the teasing of having “no dad to dance with” from your childhood bullies because you were more than content with the superwoman who raised you anyway.
-
If there was someone in your childhood other than your mom who never hesitated to hold your hands—it was the boy who lived right down the street: Iwaizumi Hajime.
“He looks a little scruffy,” your mom used to tell you and you’d shrug at her words because to ten year old you, she did have a point. Boys were icky.
His family didn’t move in your street until you turned ten years old, but according to the Oikawa family who lived next door—the Iwaizumi family had already been one of their long term friends. Tooru, the pretty boy who was your next door neighbor and often brought you the Christmas cookies you’ve come to love every December didn’t hesitate to knock on your door and ask your mom for permission to bring you out and play.
Tooru was okay, you thought; he had nice hair and a pretty smile even though he wore alien t-shirts every chance he could get. But, he was always kind enough to remember that you preferred almonds in your cookies instead of the cashews the recipe called for. So when your mother looked at you for your answer, you nodded shyly before running to your room to grab the jacket and scarf she reminded you to wear. The chill from autumn’s air has been settling in the region lately, so you let her wrap the scarf around you tightly before you left.
She did the same for both Tooru and his mystery friend, and you could only nod proudly when Tooru introduced his friend to your mother with, “This is (l/n)-san, she’s the nicest auntie here!”
You don’t notice the boy who walks quietly beside Tooru until the three of you reach the park. When you do finally notice him, you subconsciously find yourself moving a little closer to Tooru, your puffy cheeks hidden in the layers your scarf buried you in.
“Oh!” Tooru suddenly exclaims like he just had an epiphany.
“(Y/n),” he says as he turns to you and grabs the sleeve of your jacket, “—this is Iwa-chan. My bestest friend!”
Iwa-chan, the boy introduced to you peeks at you from Tooru’s left side and puffs his cheeks, “My name is Iwaizumi Hajime, nice to meet you.”
“Hello, I’m (y/n),” you reply and tentatively hold your hand out as an offer for him to shake, “nice to meet you Iwaizumi-san.”
His cheeks turn red at your words and you fight the urge to laugh at how silly it looks with his pout when he says, “You can call me Hajime. Nice to meet you too.”
Beside you, Tooru must have thought that his friend was taking too long to respond because he sighs loudly and grabs Hajime’s hand and clasps it on yours. “Iwa-chan, you’re supposed to shake her hand! Not stare.”
The red tinting his cheeks turn into a couple shades darker as he shakes your hand and turns his head to the side after muttering something along the lines of, “Baka-kawa.”
You smile at him when he faces you, and then smile even wider when the blush on his cheeks turn even redder. Maybe it’s just the cold air, you think, but none the less it suited him.
His hair was a little scruffy and he liked to wear Godzilla t-shirts under his jackets, but his cheeks blushed a pretty shade of red when you smiled at him so when your mom asks how your day with Tooru and the new neighbor went, you smile at her and say, “Mama I made a new friend!”
Hajime seemed nice, you suppose.
-
And you’re right because Hajime was always kind; he smiled in a way that had you smiling along with him in mere seconds. Though he was a little rougher with Tooru, Hajime always made it his mission to make sure he held your hand—if you needed it—when you needed to jump down a big step; the ever present blush on his cheeks when you’d beam at him stayed regardless of whatever season so you suppose you can’t blame it on the cold air anymore.
During your summer breaks, the three of you would spend the afternoons in your mother’s backyard sipping iced tea and catching cicadas. Tooru, along with you, would whine about how gross bugs were but you’d sooner relent than him when a pout began to form on Hajime’s face.
“You don’t have to,” Hajime says and takes a seat next to you on the swing next to the rosebushes. Tooru, from a far would yell triumphantly before tossing the volleyball he’d brought with him from home again. You, on the other hand could never have it in you to see Hajime upset so you’d pick up one of the three nets he’d brought with him and nod towards the garden.
“It’s okay!” you say and offer him a sweet smile when he’d look up, “as long as you keep the worms away from me then it’s okay!”
“I’ll keep them away,” he replies suddenly looking excited. Hajime jumps from the swings to grab another net and tugs at your hand to run towards the garden; he chooses to ignore the look on Tooru’s face when the latter shoots him a knowing smirk.
Bugs were never your thing and there was also never a day where you thought you’d be out in the garden running hand in hand with a boy trying to catch cicadas on a summer afternoon—when you’d much prefer to be sitting in a picnic blanket with the family dog who always nudged your hand for belly rubs. But then again, when you see Hajime, the kind boy with the infectious smile who always held your hand when you crossed the street or jumped from big steps, beam at you with his laughs ringing in the air—you conclude that it can’t be so bad after all.
When the sun would set and the three of you would let go of all the cicadas you caught, your mom would sit the three of you down for dinner and talk about your days.
“Ah, youth,” your mother would comment and you’d nod along, smiling because if this is what she meant by the beauty of youth—then you don’t ever want to let this go. If youth meant summer afternoons spent catching cicadas, festivals in the autumn, hot cocoas in winter, and picnics in the spring with Hajime and Tooru then you decided you really don’t want to let it go.
You think that especially when you look at the table across you as you smile at Tooru shoveling his dinner down and smiling at your mom because she was the bestest cook ever and laugh when Hajime’s always the one offering to pass the salt or the dish your mother asked for.
“Haji is really smart, mama,” you say looking up at the woman seated next to you and Tooru would whole heartedly agree then mutter something about “Iwa-chan” being really good at arm wrestling. Hajime would flush with the familiar shade of red you’ve grown accustomed to at Tooru’s comment but tell your mother a polite thank you when she’d clap her hands together and agree with Tooru’s compliment.
That night when your mother tucked you in for the night and moved to turn off the lights in the bedroom, she tells you that Hajime and Tooru are nice boys and that she’s glad you befriended the both of them.
You tell her goodnight and smile into your covers, feeling warm at the thought of your mother’s words, Tooru’s laughter, and Hajime’s kind smile.
-
High school was a strange time for the three of you.
Strange, in the sense that even though the three of you maintained the closeness of the friendship you’ve shared since childhood—certain things factored in the evident shift in some relationships.
Tooru was one example.
You would give up an arm for him in a heartbeat if it meant it would save his life, but at the same time, there are some moments where you wouldn’t hesitate to rip off his arm just to get him to shut up.
He’s always been perceptive, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise when he came to your house one day, plopped himself on the beanbag he claimed to be “his spot” at the corner of your desk, look you dead in the eye, and declare, “You have the hots for Iwa-chan don’t you?”
Internally, you wince at the statement but outwardly maintain the air of nonchalance you’ve mastered over the years. Tapping your pen on Tooru’s forehead, you click your tongue, “If you don’t finish your essay by today, I’m not gonna edit it for you.”
“You’re changing the topic, (y/n),” Tooru quips and if the conversation was about something different, you’d smile at the sing-song tone he was using.
“Changing what?” You ask.
“(Y/n),” Tooru replies, dragging out the last syllable of your name, “—you’re so obvious, even Makki and Mattsun could tell.”
“Could tell what?” comes Hajime’s voice from the doorway.
You let out a sigh because in a way you’re thankful for Hajime’s impeccable timing in entering your room. You turn your head and glance at him from your desk, offering him a lazy wave as a greeting.
“Iwa-chan!” Tooru exclaims and scrambles on the beanbag to sit up properly. “How much have you heard?”
“Were you talking about something important?” Hajime asks with a flat tone as he sits on your bed and pulls out his laptop.
“Your mom asked me and Oikawa to stay for dinner tonight, by the way. That cool with you?” he asks.
You look at him, the expression on your face quizzical, “Haji, you guys always stay for dinner. Mama and I love having you two around.”
From your peripheral vision, you could see Tooru look between you and Hajime back and forth and for once you’re glad he chose to stay silent.
But then when a familiar tinge of red falls on Hajime’s cheeks and you smile fondly at him, Tooru suddenly hollers, “(Y/n), that’s what I mean. You totally have the hots for Iwa-chan!”
Hajime’s eyes widen as you slap a hand over your face.
Today was one of the days where you decide you want to rip Tooru’s arm off.
-
Dinner later that night was, to put it bluntly, awkward.
You figured your mom must have already read the atmosphere by now but as of the moment all you could really do was shoot glares towards Tooru from across the table. Usually, the seating arrangement would be like this: you sat next to your mom, Tooru right across you, and Hajime diagonal from you.
Tonight, Tooru decided that it was time to “switch things up” and traded seats with Hajime.
“Ahh, this feels nice,” he says as he sits in the chair inches away from the chair where he sat for years.
“Boys,” your mother begins, “I heard you both got into the volleyball team.”
Tooru beams at her through a mouthful of pasta. “Yeth!” he chimes and Hajime elbows him on the side reminding him to eat properly before responding. You, along with your mother give a soft laugh at their interaction.
“How are you three liking high school so far? I expect the two of you to get rid of any boys who have bad intentions towards (y/n),” your mother says as she sips on her wine. Internally, you groan, because this was a conversation you would much prefer to not have. Especially in front of Tooru, you decide when he grins with an undertone of something you could only guess was anything but good. You shoot him a warning look; Tooru decides it’s a good day to ignore you.
Over the years, you made your appreciation known towards Hajime’s amazing timing. It was like he had a sixth sense when it came to either you, Tooru, or the both of you simultaneously. He had always managed to round the corner right as the passing university boys would spot you alone by the convenience store, catch Tooru before he did anything too drastic whenever he blamed himself a little too harshly for a loss from a particularly bad game, or like earlier that night—walk into a room interrupting a conversation you would rather avoid altogether.
This current situation was not one of those times.
Hajime took a bite. Your eyes were still locked on Tooru who did everything but look in your direction.
“I don’t think that’s a problem, (L/n)-san,” he said and leaned forward. Your mother next to you raised an eyebrow in question and muttered an, “oh?”
Hajime took another bite, still oblivious to the current conversation. You still looked at Tooru who smiled at you in a way that had you gripping the fork in your hand a little tighter.
“No scary boys around (y/n), at all! Isn’t that right, Iwa-chan?” Tooru exclaims and looks at his best friend next to him who was still engrossed in his plate of food. You hold your breath looking at Hajime as you wait for his response.
“Huh? Yeah. Anyway, this new recipe is really good (l/n)-san,” he finally says and nods towards your mother. Tooru clasps his hands together, smiling.
“Personally,” Tooru begins, “I think Iwa-chan and (y/n) would be the most perfect couple!”
You run your hands over your face, already feeling the heat crawling up your neck. Feeling your mother’s stare you let out a sigh and face her. “Mom-“
“Hajime! That’s great! I was wondering when the two of you would get together, it’s literally been years.”
You stare at her. Hajime stares at her; pasta sauce is smeared on the corner of his lips.
“I know, imagine being the third wheel this whole time!” Tooru comments.
-
“Hajime’s a nice boy,” your mother tells you as you join her in the living room after Tooru and Hajime returned home.
“We’re not, a thing, mom,” you say despite her laughing at your tone.
“I didn’t say you two were a thing.”
You open your mouth, but eventually close it when you come short of a response. She had a point.
“Mom,” you groan, “Haji is nice. Tooru is nice. Both of them are nice.”
“I know that, (y/n), you’re just being defensive now,” she laughs and you can’t find a retort so you huff in response.
When the room is dips into silence, you grab the familiar green blanket folded on the corner of the couch and take a seat next to her. She looks at you when you lean against her shoulder and drape the blanket over the two of you.
“(Y/n),” your mother says softly.
“Yeah?” you respond, looking up to catch her gaze—the kind where it’s steady and soft.
“Never lose yourself if you decide to give your heart to someone. I raised you well enough and no boy should ever make you feel like you’re taking two steps back,” you know she doesn’t say it to spite Hajime, but the message and advice in her words reach you anyway.
“Never in a million years.”
-
You know your mother means well because everything she’s done so far was because it was for your sake. Her credit of being a good mom was well deserved: a full time nurse and a full time mother wasn’t an easy feat but she did it—and not a day goes by where you felt like you had to fight for her time.
And because of that, you knew in your heart that Hajime knew the both of you enough to understand the dynamic you had with her; for that, you were always thankful.
True to Tooru’s words, it only took the both of you six more months of back and forth bickering in your room before you eventually built up enough courage to stand in front of Hajime with your confession written neatly in jet black ink on paper tucked inside the pink envelope Tooru had demanded you to use.
He was quiet, and staring at you long enough for your cheeks to turn as pink as the envelope you were holding that it had you beginning to wrack your brain for excuses to turn and walk in the opposite direction. Only, when you looked up, cheeks flushed and the “Sorry I think I have to be home early to put my fish to sleep,” at the tip of your tongue—you stop because Hajime’s looking at anywhere but you and because his entire face is red.
You still have the envelope awkwardly stretched out towards him so when you move in attempt to retract it, his hands are suddenly clasped over your wrists and he’s looking at you, red face and all, saying, “W-wait—“
The both of you must have been quite the spectacle for the way you’re staring at each other, red faced, and waiting for the other to begin speaking because you could definitely make out Takahiro and Issei’s snorting from some feet away.
“—shit,” Hajime continues and the way he’s still staying silent and going back to avoiding your gaze has you tugging your wrists out of his hold and sheepishly telling him, “Sorry, this is a little awkward isn’t it?”
You’re standing in front of Hajime with your hands holding the letter behind your back and an awkward smile on your face.
“(Y/n), this is really weird—“ he begins and you’re shaking your head automatically at his attempt to soften the blow by waving your arms—and the letter—in front of him saying, “Haji! No! It’s okay you don’t have to say anything, this was a really bad idea—“
“No, I mean—“ he cuts you off then pauses as he’s sifting through the contents of his bag and pulling out a slightly crumpled envelope, the color a disturbingly identical to your own.
You look at Hajime. Hajime looks at you, at his envelope, then towards yours that paused with your hand midair. Issei and Takahiro’s laughter can be heard even louder from the background when Hajime runs his hands over his face and exclaims,
“Oikawa you son of a bitch.”
-
Two years and some months ago, Oikawa Tooru—the self-proclaimed “love guru” between you and Hajime had declared to have pulled off his “greatest plan.”
Apparently, the original plan called for only you to confess to Hajime via the classic love letter—but Issei and Takahiro had thought that the shits and giggles were worth to have both of you confess to each other at the same time instead.
Tooru always retells the story in the fashion where he leaves out Issei and Hiro’s names out of the credits. On the contrary, you and Hajime don’t have in in you to react much.
In the beginning, Hajime the friend held your hand through many of your highs and lows.
From age ten, he’d always make sure to hold your hand when you’re jumping from steps a little too far for your liking. At twelve, he’s holding your hand as he leads you away from the worms that found its way near the picnic blanket. At fifteen, when the two of you accidentally confessed to each other thanks to your friends’ schemes, he held your hand as he pulled you in the direction opposite of Tooru yelling, “Iwa-chan, don’t forget I’m the best wingman!”
Hajime, the boyfriend, had continued to hold your hand as well as share a multitude of your first throughout the years.
Your first date where he’d always let you walk on the correct side of the sidewalk, and make sure to squeeze your hand whenever the two of you would pass by a group of boys who let their stare linger. Your first kiss—a quick peck after a game where he’d rushed to you, lifting you up and planting a kiss on your lips before either of you could even process what was happening.
A reassuring hand on your back in the train ride during rush hour, kisses on your knuckles when he thought no one was around in quiet libraries, and your favorite: the feel of his thumbs tracing idle circles on the back of your hand when you’re watching him review the game you recorded earlier.
You were each other’s first “I love you,” when you’re seventeen, which was said in the hours between the day and night on your walk home down a quiet street you’ve skipped, ran, and biked across countless of times. You heard it break the silence before you said it with your own lips, because the way Hajime said it was like he was just talking about the weather that day.
When the two of you stop in front of your house and Hajime’s facing you, he’s smiling in the way that has you blushing instead of him this time and he’s looping your scarf even snugger around your neck after muttering some comment about how cold it was that day.
“Haji, did you just tell me you love me?” you ask him when he’s zipped up your jacket and you’re peeking at him under the various layers of the scarf he secured around you.
“Yeah, of course, I love you.”
“This is the first time you’re telling me that,” you say with an almost bashful expression and your eyes are cast down so you don’t end up seeing Hajime’s eyes widen at the realization dawning on him.
“(Y/n), shit—“
“I love you too, Haji,” you cut him off and even if the expression in his face is still a little apologetic at the lack of climax of your first exchange of I love yous, he’s holding your hands and pulling you flush against him in an embrace, his proclamation of more “I love yous” fluttering against your ear in warm breaths.
You think about it sometime later when you’re clearing up the plates on the table from dinner and you ask your mom, “how do you know when it’s right to tell someone I love you?” and she looks at you with an expression that says she knows exactly what you’re talking about but humors your attempt at nonchalance as she replies with, “It just slips out as if you’re talking about the weather.”
And the way she says it has the second thoughts just automatically leaving your head. You tell her “I love you,” in the mornings before she leaves for work and you don’t really think about it—not because it’s a passing comment, but because you just simply love her.
The feeling’s there because what you feel in the moment is as genuine as it can get, so when you think about Hajime from seven years ago who blushed red when you shook his hand and the Hajime seven hours ago who told you he loved you like he was talking about the weather—everything dawns on you in the way that feels right. No second thoughts, deep analysis, or euphoric moment.
>> to hajibug:
>> 23:50: i love you
-
In college you decided to pursue music as a career choice. Music was one of the many things you and your mother had bonded over but watching you play in first chair always gave you the best view of her beaming from the audience.
Whenever somebody asked you why you decided to pursue a career in the field as vague and competitive as music—for a long time you fumbled with your words as you struggled to piece together a coherent enough sentence that would make it seem like you were chasing something for a “deeper” reason. Though, the truth is—you just happen to enjoy it.
The way the shoulder rest snapped perfectly in place with the violin, the weight of the bow in your hand, the smell of rosin during practice, the tuning before the concert started before hearing the eventual mess mold together into one harmony—you loved every second of it.
On the final concert of your first year in college, a week before Hajime’s move to California you stood in the orchestra room reading a text from your mother saying that she couldn’t make it this time because of a doctor’s appointment running later than usual.
You still sat in the first chair of the first violins section and even though you would have loved nothing more than to see her smile at you from the crowd—it was in the coda of the final song where your eye finally catches Hajime watching you from her seat. When the violins put their instruments down in the measures of rests, you glance over to look at Hajime while your toe continued to tap the counts remaining until you’d play again.
You bite back a smile because he looked a little uncomfortable from the high collar of the suit he put on. Tooru’s probably the mastermind, your thoughts chime in as you smile and tuck the violin back in between your chin and shoulder, your rosin covered bow hovering over the E string.
And when the final count of the rests came and went, you could only smile as you see Hajime physically hold his breath as the violins amplified the crescendo of the climax.
-
It was later that night when you finally made it home that you realize that perhaps your favorite part of the song was when you felt the emphasis of the dynamics in the pieces you played.
The moment of absolute silence as the conductor draws everyone’s attention to the tip of the baton.
“(Y/n),” your mother starts and your eyes lock on the slight tremble in her hands.
The seemingly collective sharp breath everyone takes when the tip of the baton begins to signal the final counts until the start. Your fingers pressed on the first note as your bow hovers over the string.
“What’s wrong?” you ask but you let your fingers only ghost on her hands when she holds her silence, refusing to meet your eyes.
Sometimes it begins with a quiet note—and you smile at those because it sounds like a whisper despite it ringing in the auditorium.
“I’m sick,” she says and what she says doesn’t register in your head.
Other times, the first note comes in forte and leaves everyone in a resonating silence while the following notes interlace and begin to tell the story.
“I have cancer, (y/n),” she tells you again, louder this time and her sobs echo so loud in the silence of the house that it suddenly makes you want to throw your hands over your ears.
The conductor is waving the baton; you’re closing your eyes as you mold yourself with the music and focus on nothing but your fingers flying across the fingerboard and making sure the timing of your bow matches the tap of the rhythm set.
“Mom, you’ll be fine right?” comes your assurance in question and she’s not answering because she’s crying harder.
First position to third, then fourth, then something else you don’t quite remember as the pressure from your bow presses harder and harder on the strings to climb with the crescendo the orchestra is rising to.
She looks at you, glassy eyes and trembling lips, then holds your face in between warm hands as she presses her forehead against yours.
Then as the baton drops and the crescendo overflows—the air around the room instantly changes. The shoulders relax and the movement of the bow shift from staccato to legato as the music continues to flow.
“I’m scared to leave you alone,” she finally admits and you finally break down and cry with her because you realize you have no one but each other.
You cry because she’s crying at the thought of leaving you alone when she never cried at all the times your father chose another family over her.
And as the music decrescendos into the whispers of pianissimo, you close your eyes as the gentle sway eventually lulls to a stop.
It’s half past ten and you’re still in your formal wear, but your mom’s fast asleep on the couch. The air from the AC brings you to a light shiver so you shuffle closer and pull the blankets tighter around her frame.
The last note drops and resonates in an almost infinite echo. Your eyes snap back open you feel yourself exhale.
For a moment the auditorium is in silence.
You sit on the floor next to her and listen to the sounds of steady breathing. You could pretend it was just another movie night where she fell asleep on the couch, but the telltale tracks of tears are on her cheeks and you hear her sniffling from time to time so you sigh instead.
Then, the audience erupts in an applause.
In your room, you put your palm over your mouth and begin to cry again.
-
“I love you so much,” is what Hajime said two years down the road when he decided to move to California to finish his studies.
First, he’d made a stop at your home and sat with your mother over breakfast as she wished him well on his new adventure. By the time he was at the door, it was the first time you saw Hajime cry for and with her when she wraps him in a scarf she knitted just for him. You watch softly, as he wraps her in a hug and parts with a promise to always take care of you despite the distance and wishes for her healing.
You’re standing at the border of the gate only Hajime can cross where he’s wrapped you in a hug with his chin resting on your head.
“I love you so much,” he says and you nod your head against his chest. He’s saying it as naturally as he always has and your reply is as immediate and natural when you say, “I love you too, Haji. So much.”
“(Y/n),” he starts when he pulls away from you and looks you in the eye; he’s suddenly serious and you’re afraid.
“If you ever feel like you don’t want to keep doing this, then we can take a break.”
Your brows pinch together as you reply, “Why would I want to break up with you?”
“I’m not saying we will, I just don’t want you to shoulder too much because I know how much you’re hurting right now,” Hajime explains, and his eyes are as genuine as the tone of his voice.
“Haji—“
“I believe in you, though, just—“ he pauses and his eyes soften before he continues, “take things one day at a time and remember that I’m here loving you every day, okay?”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” he finishes and you only nod at his words because the fact that you’re going to miss him really begins to hit you. Hajime’s looking at you in the tender way where you know he knows you’re about to cry because he pulls you in another embrace before kissing the top of your head as he murmurs his parting I love you in the quiet tone only you can hear.
When Hajime crosses the gate and turns the corner, you can’t help but bite your lip to keep from crying. Only a couple more years. You could take it.
-
It’s in the next eight months where you realize that while Iwaizumi Hajime shared your first love—he was also your first heartbreak.
They always said that long distance was difficult and the fact that you and Hajime were even trying was commendable enough. But that was the problem—commendable sounded like you were in the relationship for the sake of a prize. Like you were suffering through the now for a prize. Like the good part was only a one-time thing reserved at the end.
It felt wrong, and looking back at it now—perhaps that’s where the downfall began.
As time passed, your mom’s illness worsened. Cancer was ugly and it let itself be known in as many ways as it could. Time and time again, you’d watch her hair fall in strands, then clumps, until she eventually decided to shave it off for good. She smiled at you and you don’t hear her tell you, “It’s okay,” over the buzz of the razor. You don’t think you have the heart to listen to the quiver of her voice that you know is present with her words, so you suppose the loud buzz worked out in the end.
What broke your heart the most was seeing her excitement when her hair grew back after a pause in her treatment—only for her to sit down and tell you that she’s “okay” when you’re shaving off sections of her hair again.
You didn’t let her see you cry because you wanted to be as strong as she was in this; because you knew the both of you broke down within enclosed walls away from each other. Though every time you were face to face—the front was always back up. And the front was flawless; like the edges of a chipped sword finally smoothened back into a blade. But at the same time, flawed; because like the sword—the sharpness always kills.
It was unconventional, but it worked. The momentary sigh of relief was still moments of relief at the end of the day.
Hajime, on the other hand thought differently though. The second you’d answer his call request on particularly off days, he’d tell you to cry. And you would; fat drops of tears rolling down almost as soon as he finished his sentence.
Then only a year of loving each other through a computer screen passed before you realized he became your pillar at the same time you began hardening.
“Never lose yourself in the pursuit of someone or something,” are the words from your mother you consciously make an effort to tell yourself everyday even as you sit in with your phone in hand waiting for the call Hajime promised you early this morning.
And you’re well aware you’ve developed an unhealthy habit as you’re lying in bed, fighting sleep with the time on the clock nearing 4am still waiting for Hajime’s call. It wasn’t the first time he missed a promised phone call—and you weren’t mad because you understand that he has as much of a schedule as you do and that time difference was a wedge the two of you needed to work with.
But still, you think, then sigh when you put your arm over your eyes as the clock clicks to 04:07AM beside you, this fucking sucks.
You know Hajime will text you an apology when it’s seven am for you and late at night for him, but you put your phone’s ringer on silent to convince yourself that you’re fine and you’re not dependent on his presence at all. That you’re handling yourself just fine and that the anxiety you have every time your mother comes back home from a checkup is something you can deal with by yourself.
You shut your eyes when the dull ache in your chest begins to grow sharper as your thoughts shift from school, to your mom’s illness, to Hajime, and to the fact that you want to cry at the heaviness of everything.
And the frustration is eating you alive because you hate feeling this helpless. Not when your mother taught you nothing but how to be strong your whole life. Not when all you should know is how to stand on your own two feet despite whatever the situation life throws at you.
So when the morning comes and you wake up to a plethora of Hajime’s missed calls and frantic texts asking if you’re okay—you text him an assurance that you’re fine and that he shouldn’t worry about it.
You face the day with everything you feel pushed to the back of your mind. You face the mirror and tell yourself that you’re fine.
-
Hanamaki’s a good friend, and a lot smarter than you give him credit for.
It didn’t fly past him when you left for phone on silent or chose to spend your break with him or Mattsun when you usually would utilize that time for Hajime. But at the same time, he noticed you spacing out in conversations a little more than usual, reject any plans they invited you in, and his least favorite—see you break down in the practice room when you thought no one was around.
Neither he nor Issei chose to tell Hajime or you about it; he could never understand what you were going through—but he understood that the way someone heals differs from person to person.
It took about a few more months of Hajime’s schedule piling up and your silent breakdowns for the both of you to finally snap and confront one another.
It started with Hajime telling you a round of an apology, “I’m sorry, I promise I’ll call you on time—I just,”
“—shit everything’s just crazy. I’m sorry, babe.”
Then you nod and absent mindedly twirl one strand of your hand as you force his apology in one ear and out the other. You were fine. You’re handling things well. You didn’t need Hajime as a support system, so you reply, “It’s fine. I got this.”
And you like to think it was going well, but he asks, “How’s your mom doing?” and your hands are suddenly gripping the edge of the table (where you know he can’t see) tight. You didn’t tell him that she cried from the results when she came home earlier and waved you off when you stood up to help her balance herself. That thirty minutes ago you could hear her yell at your father over the phone about something she didn’t tell you about and that at the moment, you’re thankful for the way your fingers were digging into your skin because it’s helping you re shift your focus into anything but what was going on.
Hajime’s not looking at you because he’s looking at the report he was typing on his laptop instead. So first, you hype yourself up by thinking about how you don’t need anyone to push you through things and that how you’re handling yourself and the situation was more than fine, then, you answer,
“She’s okay, too.”
You try to ignore how gritty it sounded; Hajime doesn’t seem to notice either.
You’re quiet after that and Hajime must have thought it was odd because he pauses his work to look at you and ask, “Are you okay?”
And he says it with such a gentle tone that you suddenly want to crumble and tell him about the heaviness that hasn’t left you since the day your mom began slipping. But a knock from Hajime’s door and a distant call of his name snaps you out of those thoughts. Hajime, on the other hand, ignores them and asks you the question again, which you wave off this time with a quick, “It’s okay you can call me when you’re done.”
He’s hesitant when he leaves and he shoots you a text seconds after his face leaves the screen but you don’t reply; you spend the rest of the night with your face pressed against the pillow while you will yourself to believe that you, alone, have everything under control.
And, really, you should have left it to end like that.
But you don’t; because when morning comes and you wake up feeling heavy, you’re left in a haze where everything feels muddled. And the feeling of screaming hits you so fast and so hard that the dam just breaks.
It’s seven am and you’re crying for reasons you can’t find a starting point to. The kind of cry where every heave hurts and makes you ball your fists because of an unsourced anger. It’s disorienting and frustrating because you’re not mad at specifically anything—but at the same time, everything feels like its swallowing you whole again. You wish you could blank out like the time she told you she was sick—even if it meant moving through your day hyper aware of your movements. But you can’t, because it’s one of those days where the heaviness just sits on your chest and forces you to face the fact that it hurts.
And you always say “it” because you don’t know where to begin. Because you never began; never sat down and looked at your reflection in the eye and asked yourself, “what was wrong?”
Because you’re fine.
Everything’s fine.
It’s still fine because when your phone is ringing, you answer with a fresh face and a smooth, hello.
Hajime greets you like usual, but then settles into a background that isn’t.
You don’t really care.
He asks you how you’ve slept, and you nod once as a reply. He’s chuckling and says something about you looking cute cuddled up in bed, still half asleep so you nod again to go along with his story. Underneath the sheets, you’re fisting the blankets as you count each breath you’ve inhaled and exhaled as Hajime begins to talk about his day.
Then someone, who you can’t recall you know, sits next to him with an arm casually draped over his shoulder and pushes her face near his as she waves a hello. Usually, you’re not much of the jealous type so something like that shouldn’t even be a red flag for you. Hajime was a friendly person all around, and time and time again he’s explained how different the American culture was from home.
Given that fact, on a normal situation it would have been fine. Understandable, even.
But before you could even begin smooth your thoughts back to rationality, you explode. Hajime’s facing away from you in a conversation where he can’t see, so you suppose that could have been a good thing.
Then, your anger comes out.
First, it trickles; you stay silent and opt to stare at him, seething when he finally begins a conversation. Hajime’s eyebrows shoot up just like that and he bids his friend a quick goodbye before rushing into an empty room.
Second, it pools. You tell him a series of things you don’t even think makes sense, but from the way his face morphs into a grimace—it wouldn’t take much to conclude that what you said was something ugly.
Third, you’re wading in waist deep. You’re sitting up and pointing at him, bringing up a photo you saw of him with his arms hung over someone’s shoulder. A classmate, you concluded last week; a lover, you accuse him of having in the moment.
Fourth, Hajime rushes to keep you from going in further. He doesn’t feed into your anger and instead tells you to take a deep breath before talking to him. And for a second, you relent and listen. He explains that she’s a classmate from his biology class and that you’re just overreacting over something that shouldn’t even be an issue.
Fifth, comes the struggle. Your anger flares at his words and everything you’ve felt and pushed underwater suddenly bobs to the surface. Hajime wasn’t at fault, and you know that, but he’s huffing in a way that tells you he’s inches past exhausted and it does nothing to quell your outburst.
“Maybe what you should do is listen to yourself and calm the fuck down,” is what he tells you as you flinch at his tone.
“Well, I’m sorry, for just wanting to talk to you Hajime,” is what you say as retaliation. Hajime’s hand that instantly flies up to soothe his temple doesn’t fly past you.
“We are talking, (y/n). Why are you trying to make me apologize for something I didn’t even do?”
“Why can’t you understand my point? This is exhausting, Hajime.”
“I told you from the beginning. If you didn’t want to keep doing this then we stop,” he retorts, anger steadily rising.
“You’re making it sound like you’re the one wanting to stop this,” you bite back.
“I don’t. But it’s like every time we talk nowadays it’s like you’re being too much, this doesn’t seem like you anymore,” Hajime finishes.
And as the silence settles, everything clicks. You’ve been too dependent, and he feels the same way. He’s right, this isn’t you at all. You shouldn’t need to cling to him to for crumbs of healing; because you’re more than fine.
Have been more than fine, really; so you blank and reply, “You’re right, sorry about that.”
He looks at you, confused, before the silence envelops the two of you again. You allow it to stay this time.
“Maybe we should take a break, (y/n). Just some time to cool off; I feel like we’re just too overloaded right now.”
“We should,” you reply, expression unfazed as you cut the call.
The sixth, is where you allow the anger to stay instead of recede. Your mother asks you how you’re feeling and you’re quick to answer that you’re okay.
Hajime doesn’t text you until an hour later, wanting to talk. You set your phone to silent.
“What made you decide to not get back together with dad?” you ask her when she’s quiet in front of you. Your mother looks at you for a while before she pieces the red eyes and silent phone together, then tells you, “I loved myself more.”
You nod, conflicted. Her eyes were as red as yours and you heard her weeping his name just the night before and she knows you’re aware. Your phone vibrates on the table again and you miss the way her eyes flicker to the device momentarily before focusing them back at you.
Both of you know, but neither of you ask.
“Never lose yourself, right?” you say quietly and she gives you a solid nod as she pours you a cup of coffee.
You never really liked coffee; then again, you never really liked the reality either.
But you take the mug and gulp in the bitterness anyway.
Then finally, the seventh is where you succumb under its waves. Hajime calls you later that night and you answer, expression honed into an almost natural state of indifference. He looks a little worse than you, but you ignore that.
“Is this it?” he asks and you nod curtly once, your fingernails already digging into your palms under the table.
“Are we going to hate each other?” Hajime asks you again and you sigh.
“I don’t have it in me to ever hate you, Haji,” you answer, truthfully and he gives you a halfhearted smile.
“I love you,” he says like he’s just talking about the weather, and stays on the line for a few seconds more before he eventually takes your silence as a response.
“I love you, too,” is what almost comes out of your mouth like second nature, but you bite your tongue anyway.
He can’t hurt you first this way.
-
Sakusa Kiyoomi didn’t really root himself in your life until nine months after your break up with Hajime. Graduation came and went like the unfurling of a leaf, and before you knew it, you’re suddenly in the real world.
Before that, you only knew him as the first chair cellist who you always accidentally locked eyes with in every concert you managed to snag the first chair spot in the first violin’s section.
Bumping into him during morning practice first led to string quartets, then duets during concerts, shared practice rooms—until eventually, he asked you out on a date.
He inserted the question in the conversation so naturally, too. After putting away the music stands, then shoving (in contrast to him neatly arranging) the sheet music into your folder—you were halfway done with loosening your bow when he asked, “Do you wanna get dinner later?” out of the blue.
To others who may have listened in to the conversation, it sounded like a natural invitation between friends, and Kiyoomi must have realized that because he was quick to face you after zipping up the case of his cello, and add, “—I meant dinner with me.”
You were still holding your bow and staring at him stare at you, so he filled the silence with, “Like a date. I’m asking you out on a date, (y/n).”
The two of you never really initiated anything outside the relationship between music partners, and the occasional friendly outing—but it had always been with others. Looking at him, you admit Sakusa Kiyoomi was a man who mastered hygiene. Which was always a bonus in your book. But you think back to Hajime for a second, then click your tongue quietly because you realize you shouldn’t be thinking about him when someone else was asking you out.
But you sigh and still offer him a smile when you reply, “Sorry I gotta watch my mom tonight. She’s not feeling well.”
Kiyoomi nods, and his eyebrows shoot up like he remembered something. “I heard your mom was sick? I’m sorry if I’m prying.”
You nod sharply once before internally groaning then thinking about how to steer the conversation away from the oncoming “I’m sorrys”, “It must be so tough,” or any sympathetic comments of the like.
But Kiyoomi only nods in understanding, briefly turning back to loop his arms through the case, then looking back at you again saying, “Ah. Understandable. My grandmother had cancer and my mom made her this soup that helped with the aching; I can give you the recipe for it.”
Your eyes shoot up at his response and the rehearsed response of, “I have no choice but to be tough for her. It’s okay, though,” dies in your mouth so you close it again and only nod a yes.
Kiyoomi turns to open the door once you had your own violin set inside and stands by the opening of the door to let you out first. You smile; he was mostly reserved, but still a gentleman.
“(Y/n),” he begins when the two of you walk side by side in the quiet morning hallway. “I know you don’t want to hear the pity comments, but I just wanna put it out there that you’re doing well.”
Your steps halt with his when you reach the end of the hallway where the flooring splits into two different directions but you face him, the thrumming of your heart feeling making you a little more choked up than you expected and tell him an honest thank you.
He lifts his right hand as a goodbye while he shoves the other in his pocket after he settles his mask in place, then turns to walk on the opposite direction.
“Sakusa-san!” you call out and he stops a few meters in front of you to turn back in your direction again.
“Dinner!” you call out again, “this weekend!”
You know your cheeks are a little more red than you would have liked and you’re more than aware of how white your knuckles must be from grasping the straps of your case, but you ignore that and add anyway, “As a date.”
The mask covering the lower half of his face obscures the expression he has but you notice the miniscule crinkle on the corner of his eyes when he laughs and replies, “Can you say that a little louder? I can’t hear.”
You huff and action to turn around because the heat on your face was getting a little too uncomfortable, but you hear him say, “It’s a date!” so you nod awkwardly in confirmation before turning your back and walking the opposite way.
You can imagine the look he has on his face and just how much amusement he’s gotten from the interaction but before you walk too far you hear, “Just call me Kiyoomi,” from him behind you.
You smile and feel as if you’re flipping into the first page of a new chapter.
-
In contrast to the push and pull energy you felt with Hajime, after almost being in a relationship with Kiyoomi for a year, things felt easy.
Communication between the two of you didn’t feel like unraveling codes; plus, being in the same department also meant your schedules mostly linked up. Though, personally, your favorite part was that he was never too pushy with the things you wanted to deal with alone.
He knew not to pry when you walked in the practice hall with bags under your eyes holding a cup of coffee you swore to heaven and back you detested drinking; you always saw a parcel of your comfort snack with a note laid beside your violin case in the locker room, though.
And when he ate dinner at your house, he also kept his comments to himself and never let his eyes wander to the amount of pills you had to help your mother count out when the little alarm in your phone rang. Then again, you never needed to question his intentions when he showed up the next day with a thermos filled with the soup your mom said she enjoyed once as a passing comment.
He’s always been one to remember the smaller details.
Along with preferring to stay in his personal space, Kiyoomi wasn’t one to smile too bashfully, but you can’t help but notice that when she laid her hands on his as a thank you and asked him to take care of you—the smile that graced his face looked warm.
She said that Kiyoomi seemed like a nice boy, and you agreed instantly—because he is.
He never pushed past the boundary you kept around yourself despite entering into a new relationship. There was a mutual air of respect—and neither of you expressed the desire to breech it.
Being with Kiyoomi felt as natural and in order to the flow as it does when your hands move to automatically loosen your bow when it came to packing up, or beginning with the A string when the conductor motioned for you to begin tuning.
You liked to think you fit quite well together. Like the duet that an audience listens to and clap at as if they were the whole orchestra. Like the blend of the high and low notes written on a score that collides in perfect harmony.
And it feels like it too.
Every time you’re seated across each other on the stage and you’re staring straight at one another to climb with the crescendo then descend into silence—you know that your heart, along with his, are beating in the same rhythm, with the same frequency. You’ve always found that break from the real world when you picked up an instrument and you’re glad that Kiyoomi’s the one you’re entering into that dimension with.
The ten minutes on stage feels timeless. The rush from the music still resonates in an infinite echo—your fingers twitching, craving, to fly across the notes in an encore. You’re smiling because when you stare at him—he’s smiling too. Unabashed and sparkling where you have no doubt in your mind that even without the stage lights he’d gleam the same.
And even as the crowd’s still cheering as you stand hand in hand and bow next to each other, you don’t hear anything. When reality begins to trickle into your senses and the rush of intoxication wears off, you let your smile mellow into a soft curve. You face the front row and look at the seat that’s a little towards the left and try not to notice your mother’s absence. You know she was admitted to the hospital three weeks ago and she hasn’t been doing too well. Kiyoomi squeezes your hand and whispers a, “you did well,” which you nod at.
He’s still smiling even as you exit the stage and pack up your instruments so you decide not to tell him that the boy sitting in that specific seat reminded you of Hajime.
-
Hajime, on the other hand became the contact on your inbox that got pushed down further and further when the holidays passed. You meant it when you said that you could never hate him—because you know you never really could.
He still showed up on your Instagram feed posting photos about his weekend road trips to Malibu or the spontaneous trips to Vegas his new friends looped him into—and you were happy to see him glowing. More times than not, your finger would hover over the like or send button to the comment you always end up deleting and you know it shouldn’t be that way. But reality reminds you that it is.
Your reality reminds you that Iwaizumi Hajime is someone who was witness to your growth and decline and that he was someone you chose to leave in the past.
But at the same time, his passing hellos were never left unheard. Kiyoomi knew, and like always, respected that. You would think this is the part where he should be reacting a little more aggressively, but you knew him to be above petty actions. He was secure, and he let that security be known in the grip of his hand that remained steady against yours when either Hanamaki’s or Issei’s eyes would stare a bit too long. They too, let their hesitations be known when you first introduced Kiyoomi to the both of them.
Issei opened his mouth with what looked to be the beginnings of a retaliation, but Hanamaki cut him off swiftly with a resounding, “We’re happy for you,” that promptly ended the conversation at that.
Then again, it didn’t change the fact that it was after that night where Hajime’s texts to you eventually dwindled to the seasonal greetings.
You tell yourself you don’t mind.
Because you don’t.
Because you’re fine.
-
Your mother isn’t fine.
Even though she’s been hospitalized for the past four weeks now, the past week has been specifically the most difficult. In and out of consciousness where different tubes were stuck and different needles prodded at her skin every day. It killed you because the second you heard her cry from when she thought you were still asleep rang in your ears over and over again throughout the day that resulted in you missing rehearsals for that entire week.
Kiyoomi drops by after school along with Hanamaki and Issei to check up on the both of you, but eventually leave when visiting hours end.
Kiyoomi usually stays a while longer, though; sitting outside the hospital parking lot and talking over a cup of coffee became a temporary permanent for the both of you during those weeks.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, then scoots closer to you on the bench when you exhale a sigh and lean forward. When your elbows settle into a rest on your thighs, you turn to him, offering a smile. It looked more like a sad quirk of the lip but Kiyoomi must have appreciated it more than he let on because his posture relaxes with you as he exhales.
“It’s weird, Omi,” you begin. “I mean she’s been at the hospital for treatments and checkups before but this is weird.”
Beside you, he stays quiet, and despite the distant noise of traffic in the background your voice sounds a little more amplified than you would have liked. None the less, you continued, “I’ve always known she hasn’t been fine but the past week just happened so fast.”
Puffing out another breath, you watch as it leaves you in a cloud before bringing the rim of the coffee cup to your lips. You don’t take a sip. Coffee was never your favorite anyway.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks you and turns his body completely to face you.
You think about it, then sigh. You don’t; at least, not yet.
“It’s okay, she’s strong,” you tell him and raise your cup as you shoot him another smile.
“So are you,” he offers as a reply, then knocks his cup against yours softly, chuckling when your face grimaces at the taste.
“Why do you always order coffee when you hate it?” he asks as he watches you take another sip.
You laugh, then scoot closer to lean your head on his shoulder. “It’s just practical,” you answer. “It helps me stay up so even if I’d rather get the peach tea, I know that one will knock me out within an hour from all the sugar.”
Kiyoomi laughs at your reply before looping his arm through yours and threading your fingers together.
“You can loosen up time to time, you know,” he tells you and you smile a smile that strains both the muscles on your face and feeling in your chest.
“I wish I could,” you answer.
-
“Are you happy?” your mother asks you later that night.
The question catches you off guard and you take a seat on her bed next to her. You don’t look at each other and instead look at the wall that’s in front of you, so, tentatively, you reply, “Of course I am.”
And she’s quiet after that so you return her silence and continue to sit next to her.
The clock hanging above the door of her hospital room ticks slowly and for a while you’re comfortable. At this point you aren’t sure whether you wanted time to move faster or slower—because you knew the moments you spend with her are granted through borrowed time.
Time that’s borrowed from the prayers you kneel and voice out every night, the needles and tubes that poke and prod at her skin every day, and from the pills you help count out every time your alarm rings.
She began slipping the minute she told you she was sick—and along the years you knew she let herself slide along the current more carelessly every time she told you she was tired.
You’re looking at her when she touches your hand and you try not to flinch at how cold her skin’s gotten. She’s smiling when you face her and it makes you inhale in a way that hurts because the look on her face practically just tells you she’s tired.
But like the two of you had always done: you stay silent and mirror your smiles instead.
“I’m proud of you,” she says and your heart breaks as you will yourself to not cry. It occurs to you that she isn’t crying when she says it because her voice is resolute as it is soft. You want to ask her why she’s proud of you but you don’t because you realize when this becomes a memory you just want to leave it at that.
You want to leave it as a moment where a mother is telling a child that she’s proud of her.
So instead, you ask her, “Are you coming to see the concert with me and Kiyoomi in a few weeks?” just to make sure. That she’s still there; that she will still be there.
Her silence is your answer before she’s reaching out between the two of you and squeezing your hands instead.
-
On a Tuesday morning the next week she passes away at 3:08 PM with her eyes closed and face serene. The nurses tell you she opened her eyes to look at the world once more before she closed them and exhaled her last breath.
She was probably looking for you, they mean to say, but you bow your head in thanks when the medical staff offer their heartfelt condolence. You aren’t sure if you wanted to see her close her eyes for her last breath, but at the same time—you wonder if that thought was too selfish on your part.
When you’re in the car in the parking lot of the hospital grounds, you smell her perfume—lilac, so you close your eyes and tell her soul rest easy and I love you.
You text Kiyoomi to meet you in the practice room to go over the score once more after you gave yourself a few more moments to pull yourself together.
He texts you back with an, “are you sure?” so you sigh because he must have already realized what happened. Your fingers hover over the keypad of your phone as you think of an excuse to cancel plans last minute but Kiyoomi’s contact photo on your phone interrupts your thoughts in a call.
Despite your hesitation, your finger press the green to answer the call almost immediately.
“(Y/n?)”
“Hey,” you respond.
“Want me to come get you?” Kiyoomi asks and you notice how much softer his tone is.
“I can still drive, it’s okay—“
“—Are you okay?” he cuts you off and you nod your head frantically. It felt too automatic, and that thought didn’t fly by you, so you sigh.
Kiyoomi notices your silence over the line but he stays and for that you’re grateful. He isn’t really pushing you and you feel a sense of gratitude again because you don’t exactly know what to say either.
Before you could reassure him that you’re in a sense, “okay,” his voice breaks the silence over the line again.
“No one else is here, so I’ll wait for you if you’re coming.”
The smile that breaks on your face is one of relief, or at least you think it is, because your eyes are stinging and you hear yourself sniffle when you tell him a quiet okay, and thank you.
“I love you,” is what you think you hear Kiyoomi say as you cut the call and put the car in reverse.
-
“Sakusa Kiyoomi present here?” you call out with a slight chuckle as you push open the door and peek in the room.
His head snaps towards you immediately so you offer him a sheepish smile at best when you finally arrive in front of him. Kiyoomi’s eyes are softening in the way that has your heart constricting automatically so you cast your gaze down and immediately fidget with the zipper on your violin case. The steps he takes are heavy and audible in the wooden flooring so your heart hammers even more when you hear him cross the distance between the two of you.
“(Y/n),” he starts and you look up when his hands are on your shoulder. They feel warm, you think, much like the look you see in his eyes when he steadies his gaze towards you.
Kiyoomi joins you in your silence when you choose to remain in it and respond to him by only stitching on another smile. The palm of his hand is still warm on your shoulder but you try to focus on anything but the waves of his sympathy and presence because you know the second you step back in reality, you’ll break—again.
So when his hand squeezes your shoulder and he parts his lips to say the condolence you don’t know when you’re ever going to be ready for, you cut him off.
“Please don’t,” you tell him, and it’s said with a tone that’s clipped tight and with lips pulled into a straight smile—the kind where you can already feel the edges crack with every second that passes.
Kiyoomi sighs and stares at you, but backs down when he feels your body tense.
“I’m right here,” he reassures, as you cast your gaze to the side when you feel the sting in your eyes threaten to overpower you.
“I know,” you reply and with that he turns and takes his seat again.
The two of you are facing each other when you have your fingers on your respective positions and bow hovered over the string. The metronome in the background ticks and you close your eyes desperate to slip out and slip in to focus. The disconnection almost happens automatically because as soon as you hear yourself verbally count to start, your hand with the bow twitches and—
“(Y/n),” Kiyoomi cuts off and your movements automatically halt. The tone of his voice is solid and just like that you feel yourself begin to crumble; still, you try to harden, anyway.
“What’s up?” you say and open your eyes to look at him. The cello you thought was resting between his legs is set down next to his chair and his bow is on the music stand; he looks at you—intention transparent at this point.
“I love you,” he says. “Please talk to me—“he pleads, but you cut him off.
“Omi,” you begin. “I know what you want to tell me and I know you mean well, because you always do. But please—“you pause and look at him with as much intensity as you could muster before continuing, “—let me pretend like today is just a day where we’re practicing for the concert she could have finally gone to.”
Across you, his body leans forward before eventually halting at the sight of you tightening your grip on your bow.
“Just let me pretend this is a normal practice and I’ll be home later with someone still waiting inside the house,” you continue, volume rising but resolve shaking.
“Please,” you finish before tucking the violin back between your chin and shoulder and raising your bow to signal the start. Kiyoomi relents with a sigh and picks up his cello and bow before looking at you.
“Ready?” he asks when his bow is positioned above the string.
“Always am,” you reply and close your eyes as you slip back in focus and feel the bow glide into the first note.
The first note is an A, so you place your fourth finger on the D string and slip into your empty realm with a vibrato.
A memory flashes; you’re in the sixth grade again. It’s September, and you finally make it home with your new violin case in hand. Your mom comes home from work and smiles at you as you point at the strings and name them in the order your orchestra teacher had you memorize earlier.
“This one’s the A string,” you say and you see her smile like she’s proud of you.
The next note makes you climb to the third position, and you could recall that the dynamic changes around this measure, so along with Kiyoomi you’re pressing a little harder.
“We learned the third position today!” you hear your own voice say. It’s your second year playing and you’ve made it to the honors orchestra. Your mom sits in the living room, watching you with a twinkle in her eye that tells you she’s more than proud as you show her the arpeggio practice you learned earlier that day.
The next few notes fly across the fingerboard as the familiar crescendo builds. The depth of Kiyoomi’s strings blends with the octave you’re playing at as you feel yourself being swallowed and wading in your thoughts deeper and deeper until—
You stop.
Because with your eyes still closed, you suddenly see her from the night before. Your mother with the glimmering eyes and fragile hands, wearing the red beanie she said was her favorite ever since her hair fell out. And your eyes are still closed when you hear her tell you that she’s proud of you, her voice bringing you back to that night where you wanted to do nothing more but let your defenses down.
So involuntarily you do; your eyes are still closed when you begin to weep, but you can hear movement from the background before you eventually hear Kiyoomi call, “(Y/n),”
“I’m sorry,” you say and frantically wipe away at the tears and cough out the cries threatening to overflow and spill.
“(Y/n),” Kiyoomi says again and you look up.
His chair is turned so that he sits facing away from you. Your forehead scrunches with the peculiarity.
“Kiyo-“
“Just let it out,” he says then picks up his cello and continues playing from the measure you stopped at.
Then you do.
Like a thread snapping, a cry rips its way out of your throat as you finally, finally allow yourself to feel the heaviness that’s long settled in your chest. Your violin along with your bow set on the floor as you crouch down and press the heels of your palms against your eyes.
It hurts, you realize, when every time you close your eyes you still see her. You still hear her tell you her goodnight stories, affirmations, and reassurances.
It hurts, because you’re tired. Tired of living in the world trying to be the adult you know you aren’t just yet. You’re tired of going home and smiling with her when you could tell the reason why she has tear tracks on her cheeks was because of the call with your father you overheard from the night before.
Because you’re angry, you think. You’re angry at her illness. At your father for leaving and giving the weight of being a parent and provider at the same time. At the fact that neither of you were ever vulnerable enough to even cry in front of each other, and angry at yourself for never having the courage to tell her that it’s okay.
Because all this time you’re been struggling. Struggling to try to always be an adult when you never closed the chapter of your childhood. That you’ve always struggled to push past every affirmation that you’re okay and every single one of those moments were just bouts of false confidence. And it’s exhausting to put up a front to your own reflection.
Even when nothing has really been okay. You’re hurting even more when you realize that so you clutch your chest and cry harder.
This must be the consequence of pride, is the thought that comes to your head. You could build the strongest walls and wrap yourself in the most intricate barriers just to act tough but in time, you will break.
Like now; you’re sobbing into your palms for the years’ worth of pain you let pride push away while Kiyoomi is climbing even higher than the strongest dynamic you know the piece calls for.
You know he wants to let you know that it’s okay, and that you’re safe. His message resonates in pure clarity as he pushes on the strings harder and harder to swallow the sounds of your cries.
His back remains turned as you look at him, still crying, while your thanks bubbles out as incoherent as your cries.
It hurts, because you the only person you’ve cradled in your hands to heavens far higher than the ones you’ve known is gone.
You’re still crying and the pain in your chest is still stinging much like the pain from a reopened wound does, but you let him come to you as he lets you come to him in an embrace.
“Let it out,” he murmurs in your hair as you wrap your hands around his middle and cry into the fabric of his shirt. He’s probably a little uncomfortable at you sniffling right into his shirt, but the way his hands are rubbing circles on your back reassures you otherwise.
“You’re okay,” Kiyoomi says again and you cry harder because you want to believe him.
Five missed calls and seven texts messages all coming from Hajime lays unopened on your phone at 6:17PM.
-
“She asked me if I was happy,” is what you tell Kiyoomi as the two of you stand side by side peering over her casket some days later.
“Are you?” he asks and you smile at him in a way that tells him that at the moment you’re not.
“Will you be happy?” comes the question after that and you shrug.
The lines on her face are like always, and the mole between her brows look the same. Your mother lays still in the casket, cheeks pink from the blush they put on her and lips red. You think your mother’s friends told the funeral workers to paint them her usual color, so you’re thankful for that. She looks like she’s just asleep—and you don’t know how to feel.
You want to reach out and hold her hand but you know the skin will be stiff and cold; you don’t want to remember her touch like that.
To you, she’s still alive.
She always will be alive.
Kiyoomi’s hand grasps yours in a way that’s as gentle as his presence has always been. When you look up then right to meet his eyes: looking like warmth despite the depth that it has words rolling out of your lips before you could comprehend the situation.
“I will be.”
Kiyoomi smiles and you look back down without bothering to further explain your answer.
You know he always believes you. The sentiment is one you appreciate, but at the same time, you’re not sure if you even believe yourself at the moment. You have to be strong, you think.
And just like that your defenses climb back up.
-
Takahiro along with Issei make it to the funeral along with Tooru and Hajime skyping in from overseas. It wasn’t as awkward like you expected it to be, and you’re glad.
Tooru’s crying along with Hajime and the rest of you as you watch her return to the opened earth.
You’ve dried your tears by the time you face Tooru and Hajime on the laptop screen, the grief on their faces similar to the one on yours.
“(Y/n),” Hajime starts, and you nod, waiting for him to continue. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m okay,” you respond, gaze focused to the left side of the screen—Tooru’s side.
Even though all you could see was Tooru’s expression on the screen tearing up with yours, you ignore the telltale scrunch of Hajime’s forehead where you know confirms his disbelief over your words.
“I’m coming home next week. Got a job offer there,” Hajime’s voice cuts again and before you could respond Tooru’s voice thrums over the speaker as you feel Kiyoomi’s hand settle on your shoulder.
“You okay?” he asks you when you look up at him. Nodding your head, you shoot him a smile before turning back to the screen, one hand resting on top of Kiyoomi’s.
“This is Kiyoomi,” you introduce and feel yourself unintentionally holding in a breath as you sit and watch for Hajime’s reaction. He’s quiet; eyes steeled over and form rigid. Probably just a trick of the camera, you tell yourself, so you open your mouth hoping to find an excuse and end the call early but Tooru’s voice overlaps yours for the second time that day.
“Ahh! The boyfriend?” He asks and you smile as you see him leaning closer to his laptop’s camera. You had to hand it to him; you know that look. Tooru was someone who could craft a mask and uphold it for as long as he needs and every time it was flawless.
Which was why when Kiyoomi bows his head in a greeting and greets, “It’s nice to meet you,” in the tone he used with your mother, you know he hadn’t caught on to the fact that he was facing a façade.
“Likewise,” Hajime’s voice cuts through and you try to not shiver at the intensity of it.
“Let’s catch up when I get home?” he says again; this time, softer and you nod before you could think of a response.
“Take care,” is the last thing you hear from him before the camera on his side of the screen blinks back to black and Tooru’s face magnified and centered.
“He’s finally coming home, (y/n)-chan,” Tooru smiles and at the sincerity of his voice you smile along with him.
“He finally is.”
-
Hajime had always been, and always will be your first love. You found yourself choked up the second you see him wave at you from the arrival’s gate and you swore in that moment hugging him felt like coming home.
Which was because of nostalgia, you told yourself. There had been so many firsts and memories shared with him that you know just because you moved forward with your life—that didn’t mean you’d buried what you had with him in the past.
“Sakusa Kiyoomi?” he asks when you’ve settled in the grass next to your mother’s tombstone with him across you.
“Yeah, he actually played for Itachiyama back in high school,” you say.
“Volleyball player turned classical musician?” he asks and you nod with a resonating yup, your hand trailing down to the grass to pick on the blades aimlessly.
“He made it to nationals too,” you comment.
“Are you trying to just rub it in?” he asks and tosses some ripped grass your way. You move to the side and stick your tongue out at him which he laughs at. Hajime’s laugh reminds you of the summer afternoons in your childhood home where you’d chase cicadas and write memories in polaroids and you’re suddenly feeling nostalgic.
“Nah,” you say and smile as you look up at him. He’s facing his right and letting his eyes glaze over the gold paint of your mother’s name on the cement.
“I miss her,” Hajime whispers and you nod, your heart squeezing.
“I do too,” you reply and when he looks at you and meets your eyes, you catch yourself smiling because he has tears threatening to spill over the waterline too. “Every day,” you continue.
“You’re making me cry,” Hajime huffs and leans back facing the front after he wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie.
“Your fault for still being soft,” you laugh. Unlike you, he’s always been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve.
“I’m sorry,” Hajime begins after the moments of recollection passes. You look at him and smile, not really sure whether you even have the desire to push through with the conversation or not. “Why are you even sorry?” is what you want to ask him, but you hear yourself say, “it’s okay, Haji,” instead.
“We could have made it,” he says again, his voice cracking as he looks at you.
“Could have,” you repeat and offer him a halfhearted smile at best.
“Do you regret us?” Hajime asks and he seems hesitant with his answer; like he doesn’t want to know your answer. You shake your head no as soon as you meet his eyes and reach your hands out in the space between you.
“Never,” you say and squeeze his hands when he takes yours into his own.
“You’re going to make me cry, again. Shit,” he laughs and this time, you laugh along with him.
The afternoon, despite the September air feels warm. Almost like the summer afternoons back home. So when you close your eyes, you let your defenses down as you imagine sitting in the garden: the one with the yellow and pink flowers, shouting promises in the air with Hajime and Tooru as the three of you let the wonder of childhood guide your idea of reality.
You decide that for just a while longer, you’ll keep those same defenses down as you feel Hajime pull you to stand up with him and face the open field behind the cross of her name.
“Wanna see if we can find cicadas?” he grins and you laugh, replying, “What are we, twelve?” as you follow him and break out into a run anyway.
It was in that afternoon that you realize, Hajime’s always felt like home. His presence always meant that your thoughts jumped back to the days where you watched his hair spike and grow like flowers from a garden blooming and wilting. To the days where talks of the future were shared over a dinner rolls and laughter. To the days where telling someone “I love you,” felt as natural as if you were just talking about the weather.
Hajime reminded you of losing yourself in the kind of love that felt unabashed and boundless. Like running on fields where the sun remained in the golden hour indefinitely. He was the first love you’ve cradled with a heart that was still a stranger to the ways of the reality.
“Are you happy?” he asks you when the sun above breathes the beginnings of a goodbye. You recognize the question your mother asked you before she passed and in that moment you close your eyes and envision yourself in a different year.
“I am,” you whisper back earnestly and your heart flutters with every corner of the wall that crumbles down as you stare back at him.
He looks at you like he wants to ask a question but the thought of Kiyoomi flashes in your mind. Your eyes scan the flecks of emerald in Hajime’s as you close your eyes and feel yourself retreat along with the setting sun. The warmth in your chest remains as you think of Kiyoomi.
Kiyoomi who told you to let it out and let it go. Kiyoomi with the midnight eyes who spoke of the answers to the questions you have yet to discover.
“I have to be happy,” is what you tell Hajime again and the smile he gives you is soft. Like he wants to dive down your thoughts more but instead chooses to remain anchored outside your walls.
But you still lean into his embrace as he pats your shoulder when you tell your mother goodbye.
She must be happy, you think to yourself. Because today was an afternoon spent in the sun like she was alive again.
A text from Kiyoomi to you and one from Issei to his brings you back to the present. You wave goodbye to the photograph of her on the tombstone while Hajime leaves a yellow flower he picked under the sun by her name.
He smiles and you hear him say he’ll walk you home.
Your heart thrums; it’s almost like he never left.
-
Hajime won’t leave.
Despite your intention for him to not show up to your house being extremely blunt in your text message, he shows up thirty minutes after Kiyoomi’s parked into your driveway.
“Hajime,” he grins, introducing himself with a hand stretched out in greeting as Kiyoomi looks at it in contemplation. You watch the two of them, three feet away and anxious at their first time face to face interaction.
“Sakusa Kiyoomi,” your boyfriend says and reaches out to shake his hand. You could practically feel yourself sigh in relief.
“Haji, you didn’t have to come,” you say and shoot him a tight lipped smile. “Omi and I can handle the boxes, plus there’s not much left to pack up anyway.”
“So,” Hajime begins, turning around and blatantly ignoring what you just said. “Makki says there’s some heavier stuff in the attic? I can help you with that.”
Kiyoomi looks at you as you eventually sigh and nod at him to follow Hajime up into the attic.
-
For the rest of the day it went on like that. At every hint you dropped in regards to the lack of necessity for Hajime’s presence—he’s suddenly tuning out and changing the topic. It was like he couldn’t hear. You huff when Kiyoomi shoots you a look that hints his amusement towards your predicament.
Hajime’s time in California surely must have rubbed off on him.
“You two shared a lot of memories,” Kiyoomi comments after he sees Hajime point at a trinket and recall a story.
“We grew up together,” you reply and Hajime nods along with you, smiling.
“I knew she was gonna be a real one when she didn’t chicken out from catching cicadas with me,” Hajime laughs across you.
“You used to catch cicadas?” Kiyoomi questions, eyebrow quirking up. You had to fight the urge to smile at the way his two moles scrunched together.
“Used to,” you answer and grip the photo album in your hand before placing it into the box. It was one of your favorites, you remember. You spent your summer nights pasting stickers and writing captions into the photos your mom took of you, Hajime, Tooru and your dog. There were probably a few in there that were with her, but you decide you can put off the nostalgic trip for later as you shut the book and tuck it into a corner of the box.
“Sakusa,” Hajime initiates when the three of you stand back up, stretching then facing each other: Kiyoomi to your left and Hajime across the two of you. “Take care of her will you?”
“I plan to,” Kiyoomi replies beside you and you reach to squeeze his hand as you watch him offer Hajime a sincere smile.
“Can you give us a moment?” you ask Kiyoomi and he’s quick to nod.
“Thanks,” you say and lean into his kiss on your forehead before watching him grab the remaining box and make his way out the door.
Hajime stands in front of you with his hands shoved in his pockets.
“He’s a good guy,” he tells you and you smile gently, head nodding in agreement to his words.
“One of the best,” you reply, smiling.
“You’re happy right?” Hajime says more than asks, but before you could answer, he speaks again.
“I’m here for you, always,” he confesses quietly and you swallow thickly because you could already decipher the meaning behind his words.
“Who’s going to pull your scarf to remind you that it’s cold?” Hajime declares softly and you knit your eyebrows together as you tell him that you can do it yourself.
“I know you can,” he laughs and walks closer to you as he tugs off his own scarf and wraps it around your neck.
“I just like doing it for you.”
-
“Earlier,” Kiyoomi begins after he’s settled in the couch of your new apartment’s living room. You turn to face him, attention in focus then wait for him to continue.
“When we were upstairs Iwaizumi-san asked where you were moving.”
“Oh yeah? I forgot I didn’t tell him my new address, thanks for remi—“
“He asked again if we were going to be moving in together and I didn’t answer,” he swiftly cuts you off. You stare back at him, confused, then nod your head urging him to continue.
“I didn’t answer him at first because I wanted to see how he’d react.”
“Omi—“
“(Y/n),” he sighs. You blink back, confused.
“He still loves you.”
Kiyoomi says this like he’s just talking about the weather and because of that you’re suddenly aware of fast the room dipped into the newfound silence. Your heart hammers in your chest while you feel your hands curl into a familiar fist; fingernails automatically moving to dig into the flesh of your palms.
“Of course he does, I do too—“you reason, but his expression shifting has you revising your choice of words.
“I will always love him, Omi. Haji was my friend before he became anyone else,” you explain, softly, and reach out to take his hand in yours. He smiles at you and you mirror it, appreciating the way he didn’t pull out of your touch.
“Is that it?” he asks before you look at him, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.
“What else is there?” you laugh and shift your focus to his hand on yours.
“Are you really happy?”
“With this?” he questions again and sits up, taking both of your hands in his. Kiyoomi stares with baited breath, so when the silence buzzes in your ear even louder, you nod.
“With us?” Kiyoomi whispers and the echo it delivers rings loud. You hear his question ricochet from the walls to your ears over and over again while you stare straight into the plethora of questions he chooses not to vocalize manifesting themselves in his eyes.
Then, almost slowly, you nod. Because you are happy, though more so thankful. But that’s still happiness, the voice in your head reasons, so you relent and cup his face.
“You’re my blessing, Kiyoomi,” is the truth that’s spoken from your lips as you watch something living unfold in his.
“I love you,” is what he says and you nod, speechless, as he presses his forehead against yours because you feel everything in his words.
“Are you happy?” he asks again when you part and you smile, remembering your mother and Hajime’s words. The sentiment in his question is one of honesty, that in that moment, it suddenly fills you with newfound warmth.
“She asked me the same thing,” you answer, vulnerable. Kiyoomi always had a way that made it okay to feel vulnerable.
“Because I think she knows your answer,” he tells you quietly and what he says makes you think of his words.
“I’ll get there,” is what you planned to answer but before you could get the words out you’re suddenly widening your eyes as you see Kiyoomi shift and bend down on one knee in front of you, a ring in his hand.
-
Three years later | Italics in flashback
For the first time in your life everything felt connected.
From the pin that held your veil together, to the yellow and pink roses that bloomed along an aisle of white.
Everything felt like it was finally in place as Tooru took one look at you from behind the doors and teared up.
“Please don’t make me cry,” you tell him and smile as you loop your arm through his.
“This is payback for making me cry when you asked if I could give you away,” he laughed before dabbing at the corners of his eyes.
“Thank you, Tooru,” you whisper as he gives you one final look. The browns of his eyes reminded you that you are loved.
“Your mom would be so happy now,” is his reply as the doors open.
She would be happy, you think as you take one, two, then four steps forward as you grip your bouquet tighter. The pendant with her photo is surrounded in gold plating, and you find yourself thinking that nothing suited her better than gold.
To and for you, she had always been golden.
You feel Tooru part with you midway as he lets you walk the final stretch alone. It was supposed to be the other way around, Issei commented before, but Takahiro was quick to side with you and say it was fitting. Even if Tooru stood in your parent’s place to symbolize giving you away, a parent’s job is really just to walk with you to the halfway mark in life and let you walk the rest of the way alone.
You find yourself smiling at the memory.
The engagement ring on your left finger catches the light from the photographer’s flash as the first notes of a cello play.
“I would ask you to marry me but I know you’re going to tell me no,” Kiyoomi tells you.
“I don’t know you, yet, (y/n). But I know you just enough to know there’s some things you are choosing to not let go of.”
You watch him stare at you, eyes soft and understanding you’re suddenly overcome with the urge to cry again.
From the aisle, your eyes catch Kiyoomi’s as he stares back at you, beautiful and iridescent in the light. He’s always looked the most beautiful when he felt connected with music, you think. Much like now, as he presses harder on the strings and close his eyes to slip into the element.
“It’s okay,” Kiyoomi soothes, and reaches forward to wipe the tear sliding down your cheek.
“I don’t think I got to know you, just yet. I only saw bits of who you were under that exterior and neither of us know if we could work as well then if we lay ourselves bare now,” he continues and you nod, understanding his point.
“I love how resilient you are, (y/n),” Kiyoomi whispers and you smile because his voice isn’t cracking. He’s okay with this, and somehow, that lifts the heaviness in your chest. “I love how you never break despite the situation, but I’ve only known that side of you so far.”
“You deserve someone who’s seen you from the start. I can stay and we can work this out, but I don’t know if I’ll love you then. Iwaizumi loved you then and now, and I think you still do too. I could never take you away from that.”
“I don’t want to ask you who you are yet,” he says and you nod telling him you’re still getting to know yourself too.
“She’ll be proud of you regardless,” Kiyoomi finishes and with that you sob.
Kiyoomi opens his eyes and looks at you with a smile while he continues to play. Thank you, you mouth telling him, and he smiles as he plays harder.
“For what it’s worth,” you begin. “I know,” Kiyoomi finishes and the smile on his face is as sincere as his words. “Our time will always be a part in history that will be ours.”
You inhale, smile, and then cup his face in your hands. “It will always be priceless,” you add.
This was a piece you recognized from years ago, you recall with a smile. If you had your violin with you, it wouldn’t take much for you to remember the score and slip into a duet with him. The dynamics, you recognized too—and the way Kiyoomi’s playing only tells you he’s playing even louder.
Three years ago he played the same piece you would have played for the concert your mom would have finally made it to. The same day she died you sat in a practice room with Kiyoomi, crying your heart out as the he plays the same melody you’re walking to now.
Let it out, is what he told you and you did just that.
Let it go, is what he also wants you to know and you did that too.
All your life you’ve thought of love and thought it was lost when you lost her. Kiyoomi, you realize, is the love you were just beginning to learn. The love you’ve parted with before you tangled yourself in too deep; and perhaps in another lifetime you could chase each other bare bones and all, but in this life you know Hajime is the love you thought you closed the door to despite leaving it ajar.
One last look at Kiyoomi lets you see that he closes his eyes as you turn away and face forward.
And when you do, you see colors.
Green from his eyes, like the leaves on your bouquet and the grass outside your childhood home. A yellow flower pinned on his breast pocket; the color from the petals of a flower your mother loved to grow the most. Pink; like the color his cheeks turned into when you first shook his hand.
Then when he smiles at you—you feel a sense of home. When you see him begin to cry, you feel a sense of love that washes over you like the soft waves of the shallow end.
Steady, constant, and safe.
Love, like the words your mother wrote to you in a letter you discovered in an old journal. Where she wrote that even if she never had your father to love, she found her love in you. To be cradled in you so that was enough for her.
That she knew she was strong, but even more so because her strength was drawn from being with you.
Love, like the words from a friend as you remember Kiyoomi’s reminder that it’s okay to take that hand that just wants to pull you out of the deep end.
Love, like the awakening from the depth and seeing that Hajime is the hand that’s been there all along and you have yet to take.
Love, you remember like your mother’s voice.
Love, like the one that has been with you since the beginning. Because you were loved from the very start.
And Hajime—whose name spoke of beginnings.
for my mother whose love cradled me from the beginning. may you rest where the flowers bloom the most beautiful. i love you.
#haikyuu#haikyuucreations#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu scenarios#hq x reader#hq scenarios#hq angst#haikyuu angst#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa#iwaizumi hajime#oikawa tooru#hanamaki takahiro#matsukawa issei#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakusa kiyoomi scenarios#iwaizumi hajime x reader#iwaizumi hajime scenarios#sakusa x reader#iwaizumi x reader#sakusa kiyoomi imagines#sakusa imagines#sakusa kiyoomi fluff#iwaizumi hajime fluff#itachiyama#seijoh#seijoh x reader#iwaizumi scenarios
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So I finally finished Omori!
Uh...I got thoughts. Lots of them. They’re bulleted below for your viewing pleasure and my mental checklist. Spoilers abound below the cut, so please refrain from reading if you haven’t finished the game!
Omori is a love letter to video games. From its Earthbound inspired design to its various little nods to other games whether intentional or not. (The music at the train station and the musician whose song sounds like a K. K. Slider classic [Animal Crossing], the baseball and the bat [Off], the whale level [Kingdom Hearts], and the toaster and the blender [To the Moon and Finding Paradise, as included in the game per Cr*aot*c’s request to Kan Gao unless he lied about that, too...] are some of the one’s I noticed!) It feels very similar to the RPG Maker games I grew up with like Wadanohara and The Grey Garden, so I felt at home exploring the world!
I agree with a lot of the points that uricksaladbar (a fantastic youtuber, and I highly recommend his content if you like well-edited and well-written video game essays) brought up with regards to the use of Headspace and how the events there do not progress the plot, but I think Headspace’s main function is like a daydream to distract from what lies hidden and that the time spent there isn’t supposed to advance the plot. Traumatic memories are sometime repressed to protect a person and that’s the primary function of Headspace: to keep those memories from resurfacing. It’s kind of why it starts to crack, slowly but steadily, as Sunny leaves his house. It’s also why Sunny has a fear of heights, drowning, and spiders because his memories associated with them are intertwined with his trauma. Whether aware of it or not, those phobias actively keep him from thinking about Mari. Despite the pacing issues, I had a lot of fun exploring Headspace (except for the area from the Last Resort to Humphrey. Especially Humphrey. Fuck you, Humphrey), and it’s interesting to look at its “lack of progression” as being a meaningful design choice than “padding for length.”
I really like the Faraway Town sections more, but that’s because I prefer the more natural color scheme and grounded setting. My favorite gaming series of all time is Story of Seasons, so casually taking part-time jobs and getting to know the townspeople was definitely something I enjoyed more than the RPG elements of Headspace.
Omori does a great job of showing how different people grieve, and I love how it reconciles with the fact that there is no “right way to grieve.” I remember talking with one of my old roommates about the book The Sky is Everywhere by Jandy Nelson, and she said she didn’t like it. It conveys a very unconventional method of grieving, similar to the one found in the manga Haru’s Curse/Haru no Noroi by Asuka Konishi, which can make it hard for some people to relate to. More than anything, I do genuinely believe the crux of this story is learning how to accept and overcome grief, and it’s wrapped up in a happy little tale of friendship!
I don’t have much to say on the characters (except for Basil; he’s got his own bullet point after this). They’re functional for the plot. That’s about it. But I would like an IRL Hero for myself, please.
I...don’t really like Basil all that much. And while a lot of people, my brother included, keep calling him “best boy” and “the bestest friend you could ever have,” all I saw was an insecure boy. It’s true that the trauma haunting him may have contributed to it as well, but the need to be the photographer, to take pictures, to enjoy from a distance, tells me just how desperately he needed them in his life. (Note the photo album is called Basil’s Memories and not referencing the group as whole.) Which is why his involvement in Mari’s death and the ensuing fallout, while already traumatic for anyone, probably hit him the hardest. Because he ended up alone, unable to escape the trauma, compared to the other four who found other avenues of coping besides Constant Suffering, even if some of their coping mechanisms weren’t exactly healthy.
The personification of their trauma is fantastic. Basil’s takes the form of roots that act like vines, trapping him. Sunny’s is the silhouette of Mari’s hanging body with her eye open, looking at him, haunting him like a ghost. Very symbolic!
I...uh...thought the twist was kind of...underwhelming. The game does a very good job foreshadowing Mari’s death being related to her hanging herself, which I did believe for most of my time with the game, but I was having second thoughts with what Shadow Basil, Basil, and even Aubrey was implying. Clearly Basil had something to do with Mari’s death, but my conclusion was that he killed Mari as an act of self defense to protect Sunny and Aubrey witnessed it. Like I literally thought Mari was a slimy sister that was wonderful and great to everyone but Sunny. (I’m so sorry, Mari.) This falls in line if this game were actually a psychological horror, but this game fell kind of flat in that regard. I don’t consider it as a psychological horror (more just psychological with slight horror elements), and I think coming in expecting a full blown psychological horror kind of dampened The Plot Twist for me. I was expecting to be absolutely horrified but...I just ended up feeling really bad for two kids who were so traumatized they literally Could Not Handle It.
Besides being a very good story for grief, Omori does a fantastic job in showing the affect that trauma has on people. I should also note that Sunny’s three phobias is a very typical when several traumatic instances happen in close succession. We often like to think of trauma as a result of a singular event, which it can be in cases like say a terrible car crash, but it sort of simplifies and reduces the effect of the trauma in a way. Trauma is best described, in my opinion, as an onion or a mille feuille, insert your choice of layered object here, because that singular event is composed of tiny little events or memories (perhaps broken down by senses). The game uses a simplistic way of doing it by breaking Sunny’s reaction to the drowning event into three phobias compartmentalized in Headspace, but it is something to note since most media likes to handle trauma as The Thing instead of the Amalgamation of Things that Make this Thing Traumatic.
Lastly, the soundtrack is a whole banger. Absolutely amazing.
To those who got to the end of this, thank you for reading! This isn’t necessarily a review for Omori, but it’s more so a place for me to jot down any thoughts and expand upon them. It’s been good practice for me in breaking down narratives and trying to see things from different perspectives or expanding upon why I don’t like things besides just not liking them lol.
#omori#jho speaks#game analysis#might as well use that tag now because i know i’m gonna have Thoughts when I finally play Nier Replicant#added additional commentary because of a kind anon’s clarification!
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After watching kdramas on the streaming services I had, I kept seeing recommendations for weightlifting fairy, Kim Bok Joo. So I found Viki. Where I have been trapped, falling in love with a new show after new show ever since.
Shows and my ratings are below the cut.
Weightlifting Fairy, Kim Bok Joo
Kim Bok Joo is a weightlifter who is finally realizing there’s more to life than just sports. This features crushes, sweet sweet boys, wholesome ladies, and fluffiness.
10/10 This was SO GOOD! IT still gives me the happiest of feels to even think about it. I just fell head first into this drama. If I had one, teeny tiny nitpick, it would be that I think the 2nd lead is a bit wooden in his acting. I could never get a good read on him.
Marriage not dating
Fake dating-Plastic surgeon wants his mom off his back and to stay single. He falls into real feelings.
10/10 I straight up love this one. There's drama (the hair pulling in the mall made me shout with happiness). I love fake relationship dramas and that is what this is, until it's not. I just seriously adore this one.
Princess Hours
AU History, Girl finds out she’s engaged to crown prince in an arranged marriage. She marries him and DRAMA ensues.
3/10 I liked parts of this one a lot, but I just felt like it dragged way too long and kept repeating itself. Plus the 2nd leads Mom was horrible and I felt no pity for her ever. The kiss in the middle between the leads was extra good though.
Goblin
First supernatural kdrama. An immortal can only die when his “bride” comes along to pull the sword from his chest. He meets his bride and the Grim Reaper moves in with him.
9/10 It took me a bit to get use to this one as it was my first supernatural drama. I had to look up some history for it, which I love doing so that was cool. Once I was in though, the main couple HAD ME! The Grim Reaper was also fantastic and I wanted more of his friendship with the leads. Super big BROMANCE in this one. I liked all the supporting cast members as well and the last few episodes had me legitimately sobbing.
What's Wrong With secretary Kim
Secretary Kim is the perfect secretary until she quits and her boss will do anything to keep her (cause he loves her, but shh, don’t tell him that.)
10/10 The chemistry is on fire, the leads are amazing and I like the secondary and tertiary stories that are going on all around. This just lit me up from within. The only problem was I felt like the reveal of the flashback plot took a bit too long toward the end.
Full House (2004 version)
Girls house is accidentally sold to famous actor. Contract marriage ensues. MORE FAKE DATING!!
9/10 I'm a SUCKER for fake married, so they had an easy lead. (Also a sucker for couples who fight to cover their feelings so add another check mark there) Once again, it took me a few eps to get into it, but once I did, the Main Couple were my jam. Fighting to cover feelings is something that I understand and these characters do it in spades. The family dynamic made me super happy as well. My only complaint is I HATE HATE HATE the female leads “best friends.”
Fated to Love You
Accidental pregnancy becomes marriage of convenience becomes so much more.
7/10 While a bunch of the side plots in this are super cringey, I bump it massive points for the middle to the end of the show. Now do I think some of the stupidity went on a bit too long? Yes. Just tell the woman you bought her painting and why! Could have cut most of an episode out. But the scenes with the Main Character talking to the baby…just ugh!!! And when I realized he had taken the baby furniture into his room….and eating cake with the baby!! I was a mess for a few of those eps. Also the main guys laugh freaked me out. But be prepared to CRY in a few places.
All I want for Love is You
Follows a couple who go to school together and she follows him to medical school (even though she is scared of blood). She’s a dumb jock, he’s a smart sweetie and both are crushing on each other, but hiding it. (He had REASONS, but bleh)
9.5/10 I love almost everything about this Cdrama except the last episode. They cram months and years of stuff into like 5 seconds. We don't have time to process that the lead character may be dead before oops nope he's back. Now kiss and run off camera…what?? But everything leading up to that episode was so good. The horrible were horrible, but ultimately slightly redeemable. The main guys stole my heart. It was everything, (just wish the last ep stuck the landing)
1% of Anything
Girl saves an old man, not knowing who he is. The old man without her knowing makes her a condition of his will. His grandson has to marry her to inherit.
9/10 Fake RELATIONSHIPS GIVE ME LIFE! But seriously this one is pretty sweet, once again it does bog down in a couple of places, but overall, super sweet experience
Oh My Venus
Girl who was super hot in high school gains weight and then gets dumped by her bf (of like 15 years). She decides to lose weight. Her trainer and she fall for each other in the process.
7/10-the Main relationship was great once it got going, but I struggled with the family/company drama. I got slightly annoyed at the very end of the show when she was bigger again because of her pregnancy and the man wasn't cool with it.
Fight My Way
Four best friends (2 girls, 2 boys) live in a apartment block. Main leads are stuck in dead in jobs, missing out on their dreams. But not for long. Also they realize they are stupid in love with each other along the way.
10/10 A bit of a slower start, but after the like second episode I was in love with it. I wish the girl's plot had been moved a bit faster earlier on, but overall, SO SO GOOD. Although the ex-girlfriend in this one serves little purpose.
The World Owes Me a First Love
CDrama, Mobile gaming company CEO and his first employee fall in love while dealing with a new dungeon release for their game.
8/10 Perfectly lovely story with sweet people. I was pleasantly diverted
Love in the Moonlight
Historical Drama-Woman poses as man for plot reasons and accidentally becomes a eunich in the palace. The Crown Prince falls for her anyway.
8/10 Apparently I really struggle with the historical dramas. I liked most of this one, until the end when it got bogged down in its own plot.
Coffee Prince
Girl poses as a guy to get a job. The boss is super confused, but falling in love anyway.
9/10 A ton of sweet moments with some fake relationship and gender misunderstandings. I really liked this one over all. The moment that the main guy kisses the main girl (thinking she's a guy) is one of my favorite moments. Also a later kissing scene is in my top five favorite kdrama kisses.
You're Beautiful
Once again, Girl poses as boy, this time as her twin brother, to help him get into a kpop group. And while there...falls for one of the members. The boys do figure it out fairly quickly and decide to help her.
6/10 Okay, but nothing special. The main girl is good, but probably good she never played the brother. But that was part of what made it weird. We heard about the brother for the whole series, but we never saw any personality from him, just sort of heard about it. And the 2nd female was super evil!
Drunken to love you
My first Taiwanese drama. Leads get drunk and married. They stay that way for the plot.
8/10 Stupid in all the best way. It did drag a bit and the introduction of the character Daniel felt super forced. Seriously just super campy and I loved it.
Master Devil Do Not Kiss Me Season 1
Cdrama. Poor girl moves into rich house and Rich boy falls for her (with mother rooting for it all)
1/10 The dubbing was bad, the music was bad, the acting was atrocious and I barely made it though and could not do the second season.
My Princess
9/10 Normal girl finds out she's the Princess of Korea. Love the main couple. A few confusing plot bits in the middle and the two politicians add very little to the story. Ending was a bit confusing, is she still the princess or not?
Mask
7/10 Woman is forced to take the place of her doppelganger and falls in love with her new husband. melodrama Main couple is too precious for words. Their romance is wonderful. The 2nd leads (and villain couple) are delicious. The sister is layered and understandable while the man takes moustache twirling to a new meaning.
Suspicious Partner
10/10 Law student accused of murdering exbf, works with Prosecutor who loses his job over her case. They fall in love and solve murders. Also Super Adorable and ridiculously attractive. A few slow moments made up for by some really intense ones. Could have probably been tightened up into fewer eps, but all bad points made up for by supporting office characters (Investigator Bang and the CEO are the BESTEST) Bromance!
And that’s what I’ve seen so far. Currently watching Touch your heart. Will let you know how it goes!
#kdrama#cdrama#kdrama review#cdrama review#you're beautiful#coffee prince#love in the moonlight#The World owes me a first love#Fight my way#oh my venus#1% of anything#All i want for love is you#fated to love you#full house kdrama#what's wrong with secretary kim#Goblin#princess hours#goong#marriage not dating#weightlifting fairy kim bok joo#drunken to love you#my princess#master devil do not kiss me#kdrama mask#suspicious partner
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birthday baby
pairing: neighbours!woojoong x bestfriend!reader
genre: pure floof :)
warnings: none!
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you open your eyes to the repeated ringing of your doorbell, and groggily check the alarm clock on your bedside table
6:02 am,,,, on the first day of your break,,,
whoever's on the other side of your front door better have a real good reason, you think as you get off the bed and run your fingers through your hair
"what?"
"hAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N!!!"
a very excited hongjoong stands before you in a bright green jacket with a chunky blue sweater underneath
(the light hits his platinum blonde hair beautifully, you mentally note)
your best friend's holding a massive wrapped box in his arms, smiling (almost literally) from ear to ear
it's waY too early in the morning for your heart to do whatever it's doing now
you take a whole good five minutes to realise it is, in fact, your birthday, and he really is standing in front of you like that,,
"oh, right, thank you" and motion for him to finally step inside
which he happily does, and places the massive box on your table
"tadaa!"
"okay, what's in the box?"
"why don't you open to find out?"
his eyes are practically sparkling now
you slowly take apart the pretty, pastel pink wrapping, carefully taking away the tape
till he eventually intervenes and rips it off bc he's too excited for you to see what's inside
opening the box, you see a mASSIVE soft brown teddy nearly your height
you read the powder blue tag around its neck and chuckled
'for when you miss me too much! rosebud here's gonna keep you and pororo the penguin company'
"aww joongie, I love it so much!!"
you bury your face into its fluffy, soft arms
"heyyy, rosebud's for when you miss me, I'm right here now", he pouts waiting with open arms
you laugh and squish your face into his sweater instead, breathing in his scent while he holds you close and ruffles your hair
you shuffle into the kitchen to make coffee for the both of you
"joong, I love you and all, but it's six in the morning, you could've given it to me later. why are you even awake?"
"it's my bestest baby's birthday!! how could I waste any precious hours of the day sleeping??"
you roll your eyes slightly and smile to yourself, while he comes over to where you are
"I'm going right back to sleep after coffee, mind you. I gotta catch up for the nights I spent finishing up all those assignments"
you place two coffee mugs on the table beside him- your black ralts themed one and his yellow sylveon one
(yeS he has his own coffee mug, that's how often he's at your place)
"yeah, there's no way I'm letting you do that today of all days, you have the whole rest of the month to catch up on it anyway."
"but joong, whyyy? just let me sleeeeeep" you pout
"cute, but that's not gonna work today. the whole reason I asked about your agenda for the day was because you'll have to clear it! I have a lot of things planned so all you need to do is follow me~"
he emphasises on the last word by putting his hands on his cheeks, making a flower out of his face
while your face decides it's a good time to heat up
"you know, you're really lucky you're cute"
*cue nervous laughter from your side*
before he could respond, your doorbell rings,,, again
"wh-"
you open the door only to be greeted by a massive bear hug
"happy bIRTHDAY Y/N!! we have so many things to do and places to go and it's gonna be amazing, I'm so thankful you exist and you're gonna have to get ready quick because-"
you only hope he doesn't notice your heart beating a wHOLE lot faster than usual
laughing, you pull away to see the other half of your best bud duo
aka a very hyped wooyoung, also dressed warm, in a deep red jacket on the multiple layers he has on over his white tee
"I really don't get why you guys are so excited, I nearly forgot I was turning a year older today"
"guys? oh no-"
"beat you to it, woo"
hongjoong speaks up in the doorway, arms folded over his chest with a pretty smug smile on his face
"come oN, don't you have work today??"
"I could ask you the same thing."
"ugh fiiine, but we're first gonna get breakfast at this place I found that she'll love"
"cool with me, so long as we go to the carnival next"
"and I'm driving"
"yeah no, that's out of question"
"but I've got her a little something and it's in my car"
he tries pouting to get his way, key word here being *tries*
"please, I'm practically immune to those. your car, but there's nO way I'm letting you drive after last week"
wooyoung turns his attention to you, yawning, still in the hallway
"y/n, go get dressed!!"
he walks you by the shoulders to your room and then joins hongjoong on the couch
you hear their voices over the muffled noises of the tv
"I want coffee too!! where's my mug? get me some, hyung"
"I'm busy, get it yourself"
"you're literally just watching someone talk about walls"
"yeah and?? I'm learning more about cement than you ever will"
you smile to yourself while you open your wardrobe to decide on an outfit
it sure is gonna be a long, tiring day for the butterflies in your tummy
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
this is a lil oneshot I wrote for my baby kiwi @extraterestirol 💘 I was supposed to post it on her birthday but oh weLL,, hope you liked it regardless! 💌
#ateez#ateez fluff#ateez au#ateez imagines#ateez reaction#ateez scenarios#ateez soft#kim hongjoong#hongjoong#park seonghwa#seonghwa#jung yunho#yunho#kang yeosang#yeosang#choi san#san#song mingi#mingi#jung wooyoung#wooyoung#choi jongho#jongho#neighbours#birthday#kpop#oneshot#woojoong#for aemu!#destined dorks
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Ten years ago, when I was 23 an old friend introduced me to @taylorswift music. I had just gone through a horrendous breakup to a guy named John and she mentioned how she felt I would appreciate the song “Dear John.” To my surprise it resonated every thought and feeling I was going through. It didn’t take long before I begged her to let me borrow her Speak Now album. I’ll admit here and now that it was one of the fundemental albums I listened to help me recover from one of the worst relationships I’ve ever been in.
Two years later in 2012, history repeated itself. The relationship wasn’t as dramatic or eventful but it still hurt like hell. I mean, how could it not? when no matter how many times you put your love out there they never want to stay. To my surprise Taylor Swift put out her singles for her Red album that fall and I can’t even begin to describe how therapeutic it was to listen to “I knew you were trouble” but also how much I cried every time I listened to “Red” because it really did feel like driving a Maserati down a dead end street *cries even now*
Two years after that in 2014, Taylor’s 1989 album was released and at the time I hadn’t really cared to date anymore. I was happy being on my own and wasn’t looking to detox of any sad emotions but I bought the album because “Shake it off” was just super fun to listen to and I’m so glad that one song convinced me to buy the album because that year I had a falling out with the very friend who introduced me to Taylor’s music. So one can only imagine what song I had on repeat that fall. You guessed it “Bad Blood” it was almost as if she had premeditated my life. Like she knew what was coming before I did and said, “here. This might help”
In 2015, an ex bf from 2006 (my first real bf) sent me a text one night after not speaking for about six years because he was in a new relationship and wouldn’t stop messaging me. Keep in mind, I had never gotten over this guy because he was my first everything. It was hard to forget him (up until this series of events of course) but as hard as it was to ignore him i knew it wasn’t right to talk to him while he had a girlfriend because yes, I believe in karma. The night he textd me we talked for hours. He says “we broke up” and “she wasn’t you” I fight it for a bit but eventually I bite. Not long after, I see him and get to kiss him again. It felt like magic all over again, he even mentioned going on vacation together and getting married but as fast as he came he left. Turns out he was still seeing his “at the time ex” (you can see where this is going) I eventually put all the pieces together and tell him to never speak to me again. I felt so broken and stupid for believing every word he said and for thinking that I could even mean anything to him when he had been with this other girl for 7 years at that point. So what did I do to heal? Like most people I hung out with friends and kept busy but honestly, none of that helped as much as listening to “You’re not Sorry” from the Fearless album on repeat. It was the one album I hadn’t listened to in its entirety yet and when I heard that song I cried like someone spilled onion juice in my eyes but I kept moving forward and eventually got out of my depressive state. So again, thank you for that. Btw fast forward to present time and they’re now married. So, congratulations Mr and Mrs Muir. Side note: there are so many details missing from this but I don’t want to bore anyone with that in the middle of an already long post.
Flash forward to 2016, there wasn’t a new Taylor Swift album. Which almost felt odd considering there had been 2 year gaps between her albums before but I did read a lot about her in the tabloids that year so I figured her absence might’ve been related to it. Regardless, my own personal and very unrealistic agenda for Taylor made me angry with her that year. 2016, was the year Trump ran for President, and as we all know he won. For some crazy reason my head went crazy. I strongly believed that Taylor could’ve kept that man from winning had she used her voice because of how strong her following is but we couldn’t find her until voting day. I conjured up this idea in my head that she was more concerned about losing followers over where she stood in politics than what actually happened to us as a nation. I really don’t know what I was going through that year to be so delusional. It probably didn’t even have to do with Taylor Swift but I did become angry. There was just so much uncertainty by the end of that year that maybe I used her as a scape goat and just started believing all of the negative things that were being posted online about her which in retrospect, wasn’t right and wasn’t fair. She’s still a person with not only her own thoughts and feelings but also her own struggles. So if by any crazy chance you happen to read this I want to say I am deeply sorry.
Okay, so now it’s the year 2017 and I am celebrating one year of living with my awesome new roommate, who legitimately has been one of the bestest if not thee best friend I have ever had and Taylor has released her Reputation album BUT I do a personal protest to not listen to it (because remember? I’m still angry) but it was inevitable. She was everywhere! and while I may not have been a huge fan of the first single, I have to admit when I heard “Ready for it” in that one commercial it got so hard to not want to just listen to it on Spotify because the whole song just sounded so good. Yet, somehow I kept strong.
Flash forward to 2018, and what is this I see? Taylor Swift finally voiced her opinion on politics? Let me tell you, when I say I ran so fast to the Spotify app so fast it felt like my life was depending on it. I relapsed the second Taylor Swift announces her political stance because I may have been wrong about her but I was wrong for a good reason. She showed what she truly valued and it wasn’t numbers. Thank you by the way because I was aching to listen to “Ready for it” on repeat for about a year at this point. Not only that! But she released her 2 hour Reputation Tour documentary on Netflix that year and now I was upset that I let my emotions get the best of me because it looked like such a fun tour to be a part of.
2019, wasn’t too eventful from what I can remember. Well, with the exception of Taylor fighting for the rights to her music which by the way, what the hell is up with that? Just give her work back! Still I hoped that regardless of that her and her boo Joe Alwyn were doing well. I personally loved the story I read somewhere about how he told you he wasn’t giving up that easy or something along those lines. I’m personally a hopeless romantic and like cheesy stuff like that even though I may come across as tough ogre. In the words of Shrek himself, I’m like an onion. I’ve got layers.
So now we’ve finally reached present year 2020, a whole 4 years since I got irrationally upset with a person I’ve never met before except through her work. It’s 6 days before my 33rd bday and the Miss Americana documentary is released on Netflix. I felt angry once again but this time at myself. I was upset with this artist I had admired for so long who had helped me mend wounds and collect broken heart pieces. All while she was dealing with her own family issues, her breakups, sexual abuse, body image issues, scandal, and finding the strength to voice her political opinions. I really had the nerve to be upset? I’ll admit another thing on here at the risk of someone I know reading this and thinking I’m overdramatic for doing so but I cried. I genuinely felt terrible. How she’s been able to keep such a strong and wise head on those shoulders after everything that’s been thrown at her is admirable. I can only dream of being that damn strong and I find refuge in the fact that while everything may not be perfect in her life at least she has a good support system whether that be in the shape of her parents, her brother, her boyfriend, or her friends (yes, that includes fans.)
Anyway, I wrote all of that to show you guys that while we’ve been in quarantine I’ve found solace in bullet journaling and had added a bunch of my favorite Taylor Swift lyrics from the last 4 albums she’s released. It helped me let go of a lot of old thoughts and emotions to rewrite them myself. Your music, your words, and your values have helped me and so many others so much Taylor. I know it’s selfish to ask but please keep writing even when you get married or when you have kids and they need their diaper changed (shoot I’ll babysit if you need me to) or til you get old lady fingers and they’re all spotty and wrinkly. I’ll even send cookies as a thank you. If you’ve read this far I hope Ive made you laugh even a little. Stay, stay, stay, safe and quarantined guys :)
#taylorswift taylornation#taylor swift#i love you taylor#taylornation#taylortoldthetruth#bullet journal#journal#lyric quotes#lyrics#music#quarantine#heartbreak#relationship#evil exes#friendships#self healing#life#boyfriend
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(via Ten Favourite Characters from The Untamed)
ten favourite characters from the untamed
It’s been a while since I did one of these type of posts (outside of Top Ten Tuesday anyway) and as a small celebration for hitting my 1000th post on the blog (this very one, as a matter of fact!) I have decided to do a post based on my most recent obsession The Untamed!
I have already talked at length about this series in various posts (and did a review of the series here) but I thought it might be fun to share with you my favourite characters. This is based on the live action televised drama – not the web-novel / donghua series or other platforms where it has appeared.
I do like a lot of characters in this series (even some I’m not supposed to like – hey, they are great characters even if they are not good people!) but there are some that are my extra-special favourites.
10. lan jingyi
I love all of the juniors really, but Lan Jingyi made it into the 10th spot because he is the “most un-Lan Lan to ever Lan in the history of Lan” – thus spake the fanbase! Most of the Gusu Lan Sect and calm and peaceful, serene and tranquil. Lan Jingyi is snarky and impatient, with a short fuse and temper. However, he also has a kind heart and is extremely loyal.
I like him a lot because although he does share the Lan clan’s beliefs he goes about it in a completely different way! He is definitely an individual and we need more of those!
9. lan xichen
Lan Wangji’s elder brother and one of the Twin Jades of Lan. Lan Xichen is a gentle and kind-hearted soul who is very trusting, almost to a fault. He is also extremely protective of his younger brother and does his best to help the aloof and distant Lan Wangji make friends. Lan Xichen has a keen ear for music and is known for being able to diffuse tense situations.
Lan Xichen is the perfect older brother – caring and supportive. Although he can be a little bit naive, he is kind at heart and a genuinely good person.
8. wen qing
The best doctor the Wen Clan has, she is a strong and capable woman, slow to trust but quick to help where she can. Wen Qing is forced to serve the power-hungry Wen Ruohan who has a hold over her through her younger brother Wen Ning. She is aloof, cold, and above all extremely intelligent. Initially, she distrusts Wei Wuxian but gradually warms up to him because of his kind and helpful nature.
Wen Qing is a great character – she is capable and powerful and not necessarily warm but cares about others in her own way. Once you have her loyalty you never lose it.
7. wen ning
The shy, gentle, and timid younger brother of Wen Qing, who suffers from a strange illness due to being exposed to the Ying Iron as a young child. He is fiercely loyal especially to Wei Wuxian who was one of the few people to show him any kindness outside of his sister. When the Wen clan falls from power, he is turned into The Ghost General, and becomes Wei Wuxian’s right hand man (as his powers of demonic cultivation are able to control Wen Ning’s powers when they emerge).
Wen Ning is a total sweetheart – he has this horrible reputation yet is the purest soul to ever live. I just love him to bits!
6. lan sizhui
A disciple of Lan sect who is raised by Lan Wangji when his family is taken from him. He is a calm and gentle person who is very mature for his young age and is able to wield his abilities carefully and with great skill. Lan Sizhui’s past is a mystery to him but he feels an undeniable connection to Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning when the former is returned to life.
Lan Sizhui is a total dear – he really is the bestest boy! Genuinely warm-hearted and giving, he also is very capable and has everything it takes to be a powerful cultivator.
5. jiang cheng
Opinionated and hot-headed, Jiang Cheng has been raised with his siblings Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian (who was adopted into the Jiang clan after the death of his parents). Jiang Cheng cares very deeply for his loved ones but he is not great at showing it. He has a bad temper and often lashes out at those he cares about (who ultimately recognise that this is just how he shows affection). He dotes upon his nephew Jin Ling even though he often appears strict and sharp-tongued with him.
Jiang Cheng is probably the most misunderstood character. The breakdown of his relationship with Wei Wuxian, and his inability to see how his own actions (or inactions) also led to the tragic events that he hates his brother for, sours his character for a lot of people. Personally, I like him, warts and all, though I do get why many of his critics dislike him. He isn’t an easy character to like but I do like him all the same. 😉
4. nie huaisang
Nie Huisang is initially a contemporary of Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng in their school days at the Gusu Lan clan’s annual seminar. Seen as weak and unskilled, he is well-known for his supposed incompetence. Nicknamed the ‘head shaker’ and referred to as ‘know nothing’, he doesn’t have the best reputation. After the death of his brother Nie Mingjue, he becomes the leader of the Nie Sect.
Nie Huisang is a very intriguing character. Although depicted as being incapable (he carries a fan instead of a sword) there is more to him than meets the eye. Showing rare moments of cleverness and keen intuition, he nonetheless crumbles (and usually faints!) when things get tough. But is it all an act? It is hinted that there is more to him than there first appears – this is then further confirmed in the spin-off Fatal Journey. I really like him as a character, even just the hints you get in the main series. He is definitely one of my very favourites.
3. jiang yanli
Jiang Cheng’s elder sister (by blood) and Wei Wuxian’s adoptive elder sister, Jiang Yanli is a kind and caring person who does everything she can to protect her two brothers. She is the emotional heart of the trio and cares for them deeply, often providing support and cooking for them their favourite meals when they need cheering up. She has strong feelings for her arranged match Jin Zixuan and is devastated when he repeatedly snubs her. Eventually, he comes to care for her and they marry and have a child Jin Ling. Losing Yanli is what tears apart Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, she really appears to be the glue holding the triad together.
Yanli is such an amazing character and did not deserve her fate whatsoever. Her story is tragic and could have been preventable. Alas, it was not meant to be…
2. wei wuxian
Wei Wuxian is the main protagonist of the story. He is a disciple of the Jiang sect and has been raised as a sibling to Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli. He is irrepressibly cheerful and mischievous as a youth, yet also very clever and deeply loyal. He cares deeply for his siblings and comes to view Lan Wangji as his soulmate and life-long confidante.
Due to the Wen clan’s machinations, he ends up pursuing demonic cultivation – a fact that puts him at odds with all of the other clans. He is also the only one to show the remnants of the Wen clan any kindness after their fall from grace and this too puts him in opposition of the other clans, including his own family. When he is defeated, he is mourned by no one; except Lan Wangji who feels remorse for not standing by his soulmate.
Wei Wuxian (or Wei Ying but it feels to personal to call him by his given name – only Lan Zhan can call him that!) is a character that is easy to root for. The television show smooths out some of his more problematic actions so he really is a victim and did not deserve to be vilified the way he was. His return after sixteen years reunites him with his Lan Zhan, who is no longer afraid to stick by him, no matter the consequence. Wei Wuxian is such a relatable main character – you cannot help but feel for him and want him to get his due, finally.
1. lan wangji
Lan Wangji (birth name Lan Zhan) is the second young master of the Lan sect. He is viewed as cold, strict, and distant. Considered difficult to get along with, a real ‘fuddy-duddy’ according to young Wei Wuxian. However, his aloof front hides a good heart and an ever-prevailing sense of justice. Due to his actions in taking down the Wen clan, he is granted the title of Hanguang Jun (roughly translated to Light Bearing Lord). His abilities cannot be faulted and he is considered a cultivator without equal.
Although they could not be more different, he becomes close with Wei Wuxian and recognises him as his soulmate. However, he is torn by his regard for the demonic cultivator and the rules of his peers. Unable to help him, he is devastated when Wei Wuxian is killed and carries that guilt for sixteen years. When they are reunited, it is clear that Lan Wangji will stand by Wei Wuxian, not matter the cost.
Lan Wangji, oh Lan Wangji, how I love you so… I did not foresee him becoming my favourite character when I started watching the series (the live action was actually my first introduction to this world). I was prepared to be a Wei Wuxian fangirl through and through (I kind of am though Lan Wangji is still my number one). There is just something about Lan Wangji though. He isn’t an easy character to get to know. He is very aloof and closed-off. However, when you peel that back you see the layers of sadness and how solitude has really cut him off from everyone else. This is like catnip to me as I love the tortured characters. Wei Wuxian, for all the external crap he goes through, is still underneath a positive and upbeat person (no matter how many times it gets beaten out of him). Lan Wangji… there is just something so lonely about him. I cannot help but love him.
***************
And that there is my top ten characters from The Untamed! I didn’t include Jin Guangyao on this list (even though he is a great character – I more love to hate him than love him!) Hope you have enjoyed me rambling on about them. I love this series so much and I am probably boring everyone to pieces but I just can’t help but talk about it!
**I haven’t mentioned a few of my other favourites such as Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen but I didn’t want to spoil their story, I may do a separate post about the Yi City arc at some point…**
#the untamed#chen qing ling#cql#mo dao zu shi#mdzs#wei wuxian#wei ying#yiling patriarch#lan wangji#lan zhan#hanguang jun#lan jingyi#lan xichen#lan sizhui#wen ning#wen qing#nie huaisang#jiang cheng#jiang yanli#jiang siblings#jiang sect#jiang clan#lan clan#lan sect#yunmeng siblings#yunmeng jiang sect#gusu lan sect#grandmaster of demonic cultivation#cdrama#chinese drama
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Hunter x Hunter for the Fandom questions! 💕😁
You have activated the trap card!!! 💓 As always, a warning for everyone because this is a very long post -
Top 5 favourite characters: Truthfully, my top five are Shoot, Knuckle, Hanzo, Kite, and Gon. The three uncles, the honorary father, and the son. ❤
Other characters you like: Too many!!! I do love Killua, Kurapika, and Leorio. Kastro I really liked from the Tournament Arc. Melody, definitely! She’s the best. And, of course, Morel. I adore Big Papa Smoke. Palm and Knov, as well. Along with Ikalgo and Meleoron. ❤ Too many good characters.
Least favourite characters: I’ll have to say Illumi and Hisoka. I like them to an extent.
Otps: I am a sucker for Nashuu. 💓 What can I say? I really like Kurapika with Leorio, too.
Notps: Don’t…ship the children with other people please.
Favourite friendships: Gon and Killua of course! They are such a good pair. Shoot and Knuckle are the bestest though. I love them too much. Honestly, I really love when Meleoron and Ikalgo get to be with Gon and the others, especially after the Chimera Ant Arc. It’s so sweet.
Favourite family: Oh, I love Gon and Aunt Mito. 💌
Favourite episodes: There are too many good ones, but you know I have to put 86. For reasons. ❤ The biggest ones for me…were 112 and…118 just becauae of how emotional they made me. Especially 112. That episode made me SOB. After I finished the episode, I had to step away from the computer to breathe, I was crying too much. Not necessarily in a bad way, but I did get really choked up.
Favourite season/book/movie: Favorite season is the Chimera Ant Arc, even though it’s also the absolute worst at the same time. Favorite book is…the very first one! I was about to say Vol 20 or Vol 25, but the very first one makes me so happy. It’s my favorite cover, too! 💚
Favorite movie I don’t have an answer for. The Last Mission was pretty good, and I know there are at least one or two more I believe? I’ve only seen one though.
Favourite quotes: I absolutely loved it when Knuckle said “Everyone has a heart. That’s what I want to believe.” And…Shoot’s whole inner monologue right before he fights. Even when Shoot explains to Killua how he doesn’t like to hurt people. I still can’t handle them, I get so emotional just thinking about them.
Best musical moment: Well…I know when Pouf plays his violin it is incredibly musical. That’s the only thing I can think of to say here! That scene is so out of place, but the music is lovely at least.
Moment that made you fangirl/boy the hardest: I actually remember when I first got into Hunter x Hunter, and I saw that Hanzo got four badges in the hunting exam, literally was just cheering him on like “Yay Hanzo!!! Good job!!!” 💞 I was so happy for him!! Oh…and when Knuckle was on screen, especially when he would throw off his jacket… 💘💘💘💘💘 Every. Single. Time. My poor, weak heart. At all that fanservice. And!!! When Shoot would fight!!! I would just be mush like! 💓 I just loved seeing Shoot any moment I got, and I still do.
When it really disappointed you: I’m not going to say it because I don’t want to spoil Meve by accident, but it is a huge disapointment for me that still leaves me upset.
Saddest moment: Well… 💔 I won’t say it.
Most well done character death: Uvagin, I guess? I mean, I don’t want to say that, but Kurapika at the time…oh it was rough. 💔 The scene was well done.
Favourite guest star: Hm. Guest stars? I would say Togashi, but I’m clearly thinking about how we’ll see ONE appear in One Punch Man every now and then. Not sure if Madhouse did the same with Togashi dog or anything. – Oh shoot read that question wrong as soon as I wrote all of this, LOL! Oh, now I know who to say!! Junichi Kanemaru! 💓💓💓 He only voiced Buharu during the first season, but ahhh I absolutely adore him! Just hearing his voice again brought back great childhood memories since I know he’s Sonic. 💓 Takaya Kuroda also! He was great as Razor, but you can never not hear him as Kiryu if you know the Yakuza/Ryu Ga Gotoku series. Listening to him as another character in a completely different thing was so funny. It was nice little cameo for my ears for both of them. ❤
Favourite cast member: Yuuji Ueda! 💓💓💓💓💓💓 Of COURSE. Favorite Japanese voice actor. (Can I just say how lovely Shoot’s voice is? It’s breathtaking. 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞) Along with Wataru Takagi, who is literally one of the best Japanese voice actors ever. He is an absolute gem. 💓 And I love Megumi Han. She was always so into her character and voicing Gon, she was just so passionate for the series. She’s the best.
Character you wish was still alive: Kite. 💔 And Kastro too, he seemed like a nice guy.
One thing you hope really happens: Please just let Gon and Killua rest. Give all the characters a rest. Where’s the filler episodes where they’re all getting together and having a good time and nothing can go wrong? Where’s my dream beach vacation episode?
Most shocking twist: Kite’s death… 💔💔💔 It really makes me upset please stop I want to forget
When did you start watching/reading?: I started watching the anime around March! I’m not sure when I bought the first volume of it though. Maybe in the same month? But yeah, March 3rd is the official date! (Which I was actually trying to figure out when I was deciding a date. I watched the first episode with my love maybe a month or so before I did on my own? But March 3rd was when I started watching it from the beginning. I thought about making it March 5th because…that’s when I first watched Shoot and Knuckle be introduced. You know.)
Best animal/creature: I’m biased to Knuckle’s puppy. 😌 For creature, I like Ikalgo and Meleoron a lot. It took me a bit to warm up to them, but they’re my favorite out of the Chimera Ants.
Favourite location: Whale Island! It is such a beautiful place! If it were real, I would definitely want to visit it.
Trope you wish they would stop using: Nothing that I can think of.
One thing this show/book/film does better than others: A big thing is that…it shows no matter what you go through, no matter what happens, you can definitely try again. And “you can smile again~” 🎵 All of these things slowly go more and more downhill when you follow along the adventure, but after the events of the scariest arc of the series, things do try to get better despite everything that happened during the darkest of times.
Funniest moments: I really can’t think of any super specific ones, but I know there were a lot of little moments Gon and Killua shared that cracked me up so much. Oh, when Gon hit Hanzo during their fight, and Leorio called him a liar for saying he let Gon hit him on purpose!! Ahhh the way Leorio’s voice actor did that line was PERFECT. “LIAR!!!!” I was dying! I also giggled bad at ones Shoot and Knuckle shared, ahh they’re so funny together.
Couple you would like to see: Shoot and I love the thought of Aunt Mito with Kite, for some reason? I think it’s because someone wrote a fic of them meeting, but…it’s a nice thought.
Actor/Actress you want to join the cast: Could you imagine if someone like Hiroki Yatsumoto voiced someone? Or Masaya Onosaka? Ahhhh or even Takahiro Sakurai! Just get Makoto Furukawa to guest star a character along with some other One Punch Man voice actors! It would be a fun time I’m sure.
Favourite outfit: I would say Knuckle. How does he stay looking so good??? His clothes never get dirty. But I do love how Pakunoda dresses. She just looks so lovely, ugghgh
Favourite item: The Hunter cards! ❤ They just look so iconic. Definitely Hotel Raffelasia. Gon’s fishing rod. And Crazy Slots!! Technically not an item himself, but Kite’s scythe is definitely the coolest weapon.
Do you own anything related to this show/book/film?: I do now. ❤
What house/team/group/friendship group/family/race/etc would you be in?: I would love to be in the little family Gon, Killua, Kurapika, and Leorio have together. I do have to say I would want to be apart of the Extermination Team, too! What great groups of friends.
Most boring plotline: I honestly did get bored watching through the Phantom Troupe and Greed Island Arcs when I first watched Hunter x Hunter, but I really need to rewatch them. When I think back on them, I feel like I didn’t appreciate them enough. I might enjoy them more after I watch it from the beginning again.
Most laughably bad moment: Whenever Hisoka shows up and he’s just like that
Best flashback/flashfoward if any: The one during Shoot’s inner monologue, and the one of Gon meeting Kite for the first time. Definitely. Even though Gon meeting Kite was the opening for Hunter x Hunter in the manga. There’s also the one Knuckle has where my most favorite picture comes from. ❤
Most layered character: I jokingly say Shoot because my goodness that man wears layers of bandages, but he really is a layered character. There’s actually a whole bunch of layered characters throughout the series.
Most one dimensional character: I’m honestly not sure.
Scariest moment (and Grossest moment, I’m mixing both questions for my answer): When the Chimera Ants would kill people.
Best looking male: Knuckle. I love my Shoot, but…Japanese pompadoured delinquents make me swoon. They are seriously my biggest weakness. Especially him. 💘💘💘 My poor, weak heart. I can’t even look at him without melting.
Best looking female: Pakunoda and Palm. Both women are beautiful in their own way. And Melody is of course very warm and sweet, I adore how she looks. ❤
Who you’re crushing on (if any): …Shoot… ❤💍
Favourite cast moment: When Megumi Han got really emotional speaking at one of the panels for The Last Mission in front of fans. It was so genuine and sweet.
Favourite transportation: I always loved the shuttle train! When Gon and Killua used to get to the tournament, and when Morel and the others traveled together. ❤ It makes me wish I could go on long and cozy train rides to different places like that in real life.
Most beautiful scene (scenery/shot wise): When Gon was hiding out to watch Hisoka in the bushes, and the sun shown through the trees. Anytime a scene would be in a forest or in walkways of trees, really! The way the sunlight shines through the trees and leaves in patches over the vast green surrounding is just so pretty. I just love the colors, contrast, everything. Oh! And when Knuckle was punching Youpi!!! Like ahhhhhh Madhouse!!! Every once in a while in Hunter x Hunter that fluid Madhouse animation would just hit you!
Unanswered question/continuity issue/plot error that bugs you: I wish we could have seen what Kite’s other rolls (weapons) were. 💔 Along with Hanzo’s, Knuckle’s, and Shoot’s backstories! We know just a bit about Knuckle’s past, but nothing about Hanzo nor Shoot really. I would want to know why they all became hunters!
Best promo: Hm…I haven’t seen promos or anything at all for the series. This wouldn’t fit the answer I don’t think, but I loved the little “To Be Continued” ending scenes with Gon and Killua. They were so cute! I actually missed them during the Chimera Ant Arc.
At what point did you fall in love with this show/book: Honestly, I’m not sure. I just ended up really liking it just by watching it from the beginning. Watching the first episode over at my love’s house piqued my interest in the series, but then a few weeks or so later I started watching it all the way through, and the rest was history. Everything blurs together for me because I literally blew through episodes watching them, but I had fun watching them all. And…even though the Chimera Ant Arc leaves me heartbroken and sickened, characters like Knuckle and Shoot came out of nowhere, and I was so excited to see them in such an awful part of the story. They were a breath of fresh air. And, of course…I got to meet Shoot. A character I will cherish and keep in my heart for the rest of my life. I already talk about him to death, but he came into my life at the perfect time. He gives me strength. I truly am happy I found Hunter x Hunter and just got into it.
#thank you so much for the ask! 💓 I had a feeling#hunter x hunter#hxh#askbox#m3v3#joy#this was so fun to do!#now I really want to do one for opm...or even a video game one like sonic or pokemon!!#💓#long post
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Party Princess // Sweet Pea x Reader (ft ex! Reggie)
Warnings: Swearing, underage drinking, partying, making out
Prompt: @sluttyforsweetpea : Hi! I’d like to make a request for a writing prompt if it’s not any trouble. Can you do no. 60 (If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to seduce me.) with Sweet Pea.
Find the prompts here
Word count: 2,000
Reggie Mantle’s parties were known for being the loudest, wildest, and most regrettable in the whole town, of course, this never stopped anyone from attending. Tonight lived up to its legacy as you walked in and immediately felt the bass thump throughout your body and saw people making out in any dark corner they could find.
It didn’t take long for your wandering eyes eventually landed on Sweet Pea. He was a transfer from Southside High, and you had the pleasure of being the one to sure him and his friends around on their first day. That day, you walked into school, determined to show him, along with the others, that Riverdale was more than stuck up snobs who hated anyone that wasn’t like them. That was until he opened his mouth.
“We don’t need your pity, princess.” He said condescendingly, smirking at your extended hand after you had introduced yourself to him and two other transfers. The smaller Serpent with pink colored hair jabbed him in the ribs and shook your hand.
“I’m sorry about him, he gets angry when he hasn’t had his nap. I’m Toni.” She gave you a warm smile. You gave them the tour of the school, trying to resist going off on him as he teasingly asked you where the best make-out spots were. You were definitely less than excited when you saw that your schedules were nearly identical.
But that was a few weeks ago and since then you two had warmed up to each other, almost suspiciously so. He got on your nerves and always made jokes about you being privileged and pretentious, but also took it upon himself to make racy comments anytime you wore anything remotely revealing and brush his fingers on your thigh during class.
You were drawn out of your hormonal flashback as you heard Toni calling your name. You made your way over to Fangs, Toni, and Sweet Pea, maneuvering past the crowd of dancing bodies. You finally you reached the group, greeting them with a smile, but before could even open your mouth to say hi, Sweet Pea already something to say.
“Wow, didn’t know little miss perfect went to parties like this?” He teased, eyebrow raised as he sipped his drink. Normally you would have retorted that you weren’t perfect or point out that this was a Northside party, but something about the way the music and alcohol running through your body made you want to screw with him a little bit.
“Reg and I go way back, it’d basically be a sin if I didn’t show up.” You said nonchalantly, loving the confused looks on the Serpents’ faces. Sweet Pea, in particular, seemed the most surprised waving his hands to stop you, almost spilling his drink.
“Woah woah woah. You and Reggie were a thing?” He was leaned forward in anticipation, brows knitted together, lips slightly agape in disbelief. Something about the way he was letting his emotions show so plainly on his face a devilish smile dance its way onto yours.
“I never said that. ” You shrugged your shoulders. He wasn’t wrong, technically. You and Reggie had been on and off last year before deciding it was better to just end it. It wasn’t anything serious and you two remained friends with no hard feelings. “It was a casual fling like a million years ago.” You understated and felt arms snake around your shoulders.
“It was literally last year and I was your first.” You turned to see the topic of conversation, making kissy faces at you as he said the second part. You laughed and shrugged him off of you. “Hey, you need a drink.” He gestured to your almost empty cup.
“Whatever inflates your ego, Reg. And you’re right, I do.” You let him lead you to the kitchen, completely missing the pissed look on Pea’s face. You and Reggie chatted for a little before he left to play in a “life or death” match of beer pong with the rest of the basketball team.
You sat on the counter, watching everyone dance, directing a few green faces to the restrooms and scooting over to let people view the variety of drinks people had brought. Eventually, Toni walked up to you and hopped up onto the counter.
“You know, I think it’s really cool that you’re friends with your ex.” She said and gazed up at you to gauge your reaction. If you were slightly more sober you’d be able to tell she was sent over to gather information, but unfortunately, your vision remained a little blurry and the ground still wavered a touch under your feet.
You laughed and leaned your head on the cabinets above you. “I mean, I don’t even know if I’d consider him an ex, like we’ve been friends since forever and yeah we made out, had sex a few times but we weren’t ever official before we cut it off. I don’t even know why I’m telling you so much, I’m sorry.” You giggled into your cup, finished the rest of it and grabbed a water bottle.
“Wow, and you’re able to control your drinking, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with such balance in their life!” The girl said dramatically, making you laugh. “Looks like your BFF is back. See you around.” She slugged your shoulder and walked back to her friends
You could tell by the look on Reg’s face that they had lost. And pretty badly, based on the way he nearly stumbled into the fridge on his way over to you. “Tough game?” You asked and handed him a water.
“The toughest!” He said, a little too loudly, slurring the words together as he opened the drink. “They were making them left and right and all the guys were like ‘Reggie! You got this!’ but honest Y/N… I didn’t and there was this hot girl there and she saw me miss like the easiest shots.” He said with immense excitement and emotion.
Reggie reminded you of a little kid when he was drunk, getting worked up over the littlest things. “Sounds terrible, bud.” You patted his back and he leaned his head on your shoulder. “You know how you’re like the bestest best friend, ex-girlfriend ever and would do anything for me?” he batted his lashes, trying to seem innocent.
You found your eyes wandering around, catching on Sweet Pea’s, the boy was staring at you from across the room, with a look you couldn’t decipher. Chills went down your spine as you thought about how long he was looking at you like that. “What do you want?” You said playfully bitter, shrugging your friend off your shoulder, suddenly hyper-aware of how affectionate you were being.
“Come dance with meeee.” He drew out the last word as he dragged you to your feet and to the living room being used as a dancefloor before you could even protest. He grabbed your hands and swung them back and forth, spun you, dipped you, practically did anything he could to convince you to move on your own.
The two of you danced and laughed together for what felt like ages before a bump and grind song came on. Your hips slowed to the beat, dancing without a care. Reggie put his hands on your hips, you smiled and watched him change his own rhythm to match the music. However, your time was short lived before you felt a hand on your shoulder.
You turned around to see Sweet Pea practically glaring down at you. “We need to talk.” He declared, dragging you off the dancefloor. You heard Reggie encouraging you to ‘get it’ from where you left him. You rolled your eyes at his suggestive comment and yanked your arm away from your captor. “What the hell is your problem, Pea?” You said in a hushed, but angry tone.
“Oh, my problem? What about your problem? You know he’s obviously trying to get in your pants, right?” The Serpent accused, crossing his arms over his puffed out chest. However, his demeanor changed from annoyed to mischievous before you could even blink, as he took steps forward. “Although, I’m sure you did know that, I saw you look at me right before you two started dancing. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.”
You backed up, trying to get more space between you two, something about him made you not able to think straight. Probably his cologne. You decided as you back collided with the wall. You and Reggie using each other to make others jealous was definitely not unheard of, but there was no way you had been doing that just now.
“Oh my god, keep dreaming! You know nothing about Reggie and I’s friendship. Hell, you didn’t even know we were friends until, what? Three hours ago?” You snapped back, advancing forward until you were almost flush the boy’s chest. You didn’t realize how close you were until your hand brushed his when you tried to push him out of your way, which failed, of course.
“E-Either way it doesn’t matter, because it’s really none of your business.” You stated, your voice wavering. The look in his eyes changed, the glint that was there previous left and was filled was a newer darkness that made your knees weak.
Again, you felt yourself being whisked away, down a hall and to your left, to what you know was the bathroom. A small line of people shouted in protest was the door slammed and locked by Sweet Pea. “Let’s cut the shit, Princess. I’ve been flirting with you since I got to this stupid school and I can’t take it anymore so you need to tell me right here, right now if you and Reggie are boning.” He declared.
Your heart raced as you shook your head. Your mouth opened to formally answer his question but his serpent jacket was already on the floor and his mouth was already on yours before you could even get a syllable out. Your surprised moan got lost on his lips as you also began to instinctively shed layers.
His hands were immediately placed just under your shirt, resting on your hips, pulling you closer. Yours were more ravenous as they explored, tugged and ruined his hair. He tasted like mint and alcohol and smelled like gasoline and cologne and felt like heaven. You were so absorbed in his… everything when Toni busted in.
“I so called it!” Her excited voice caused you two to jump apart. “I knew the second you said you were friends with Reggie, there was no way Pea would be able to last another day without… this!” She gestured to your shirt askew and his hair sticking up in every direction. “Fangs owes me like twenty bucks now, so thanks, but, FP says he needs us at the Wyrm ASAP. So wrap it up and fix yourself.” She rambled before closing the door behind her.
Sweet Pea removed his hands from your body and took a step back to fully process everything that was happening. You? You just leaned against the counter and admired your work. Your lip gloss was smeared on his now swollen lips, his hair was a mess, and his cheeks were a few shades darker. You were certain you looked just as bad, if not worse.
He began to frantically grab his stuff, now nervous and panicked. “Wait, you’re really gonna leave, just like that?” You asked, a sting of pain in your heart.
“Oh baby, you’re insane if you think we’re not doing this again.” He said, kissing your lips with a smile before walking out the door.
AN: I wrote this while waiting for my illegally downloaded Spiderman to finish downloading onto my flashdrive so this is the work of a criminal but ANYWAY I honestly had to much fun writing Reggie omg sorry also this took so long for me to actually post omg sorry pt 2.
taglist: @hiighdeex3 @isaaclahys @chaarrlieeeeee @lolabean1998 @miniwroetofreezymd
#sweet pea#sweet pea imagine#sweet pea fanfic#sweet pea fan club#sweet pea x you#sweet pea x reader#riverdale#riverdale season 2#riverdale fandom#riverdale fanfiction#toni topaz#fangs fogarty#reggie mantle#ex!reggie#riverdale high#southside high#southsidejournal#sweet pea drabble#sweet pea request#sweet pea prompt#southside serpents#southside#serpents
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Baby- Astro
Genre: fluff, D. Store is a cafe, so many uwus
Word Count: 2245
Based on the Baby MV which was so cute I’m crying, also got inspiration from this post: https://kpopboops.tumblr.com/post/183789192747/astro-dstore-head-canon by @nojam-secrettime
A/N: Before this starts, I’m just going to go over each member’s flavors (like each person’s soda thing in the mv lol) and their job at the cafe.
MJ: orange, cashier, helps out with barista-ing
Jinjin: green apple, manager, helps out anyone that needs it, well-rounded
Eunwoo: blueberry, cook
Moonbin: strawberry, barista
Rocky: grape, bus boy/ baker
Sanha: lemon, waiter
LOL the fic actually starts now--------------- <3
Jieun walked into D. Store, the bell tinkling cheerfully as she pulled the door open. “Hi there, Jieun. What will you have today?” the cashier greeted from behind the register. She pondered for a moment before declaring “Grape soda with a strawberry cake slice.”
D. Store was a cafe that opened up in June 2017. The D stood for dream and the design of the cafe clearly emitted that vibe. The neon sign that lit up in rainbow colors always flickered a few times before turning on which was part of the charm. The rainbow “Open” sign was a welcoming addition and the entire store was surrounded by greenery and flowers. The polished wooden door added a nice touch and added to the entire look.
On the inside, benches accented with a sky blue coat of paint and a wire backing lined the walls. A record player sat on a metal stool, playing songs from old vinyls. The white counter and light colors were complimented by the flower vases and the vines that hung on the wooden walls. Two clear refrigerators allowed customers to take their own drinks and a white display case next to the counter showcased the various sweets that D. Store offered. The cafe gave off a secret fairy garden vibe and Jieun had been a regular customer from the start.
A gasp brought her back to reality. She looked up to find Jinwoo at the counter. Even though all 6 boys who worked here opened the store together, Jinwoo was still dubbed the boss. “I’m so hurt,” he said, putting his hand on his chest dramatically. “How could you not pick my flavor when it’s obviously the best.”
Jieun sighed. “Hello to you too, Jinwoo.” Another gasp.
“Oh no, you’re not even calling me what you usually do!” he gasped, raising his voice. “Shut up, Jinjin,” MJ stated as he walked past, giving him a smack on the back with a promotional poster for their new strawberry banana crepe. Jinwoo huffed as he gave Jieun a number. “Go sit down, your order will be ready in a minute,” he muttered. Jieun plopped down into a seat that was tucked into the corner of the separation, the closest one to the counter.
Eunwoo gave Jieun a small smile as he walked up with the strawberry cake slice and grape soda. “Hey,” he greeted before sliding into the bench across from Jieun. The rainy Wednesday weather didn’t attract many customers with the exception of Jieun. The cafe was rather empty, or to be more specific, Jieun was the only customer that day.
Jieun squinted at him. “Hi sorry I don’t have my contacts today. Who are you?” she rambled. Eunwoo chuckled as he slipped her a pair of spare glasses she left at the cafe. Her frequent visits led to the stockpile of products in case she forgot something. Jieun put on the glasses. “Oh hi Eunwoo,” she blinked. “Eat your cake, the whipped cream is melting,” he replied blankly.
The tinkling sound from the bell made everyone turn towards the door. “You’re back,” Rocky stated, coming out from the kitchen, as a dripping wet Sanha and Moonbin walked through the door. “I was just trying to buy some sunflower seeds but then the weather was like ‘YOU THOUGHT WRONG, CANCELLED, GO HOME IN THE RAIN THOT’ so we’re here now I guess,” Sanha grumbled. Moonbin laughed as he pulled out the various plants and seeds they had bought. As he set a pot of hydrangeas onto the front windowsill, he sighed audibly.
“Jieun’s here and you’re not even going to greet her?” MJ asked as he came back from putting up promotional posters. Sanha did a sharp turn but as he turned, his shoelace got caught in the doorway and he ended up sprawled on the floor. Rocky laughed loudly as he wiped his hands on his apron, hanging it up afterwards. The cuffs of his white shirt were rolled up and slightly wet from washing the dishes in the back. Jieun glanced at his sleeve.
“Shouldn’t you get change out of that? You’ll catch a cold,” she said, concerned.
Rocky blinked out of surprise before realizing that she was talking about his wet sleeves. “I don’t think wet sleeves are going to give me a cold but ok,” he teased as he slipped into the staff room. He came back out rather quickly in a few minutes, dressed in a simple black tee. The rest of his attire was the usual D. Store uniform. Black slacks or jeans and dress shoes were a must but no one listened to Jinwoo and everyone always showed up in sneakers. Rocky’s distressed black jeans were paired with a rather new pair of Nike Air Force 1s. Jieun glanced down at his shoes.
“They’re new,” Moonbin announced, drying his hair with a towel from the staff room. “I bought them for him a few days ago.”
“What was the occasion?” Jieun questioned, finally picking up her fork and taking a bite of the strawberry cake. Moonbin smirked slightly before he ran over to Rocky and threw his arm over his shoulder. “How could you ask that?! It was the first day that we ever met,” he exclaimed. Rocky blinked in confusion before escaping his grasp. He grimaced. “Sorry, I don’t recall meeting someone like you on that particular day. Moonbin gasped before clinging onto the nearest person, which just happened to be Jinjin.
“DID YOU HEAR THAT JINJIN? ROCKY DOESN’T REMEMBER MEETING HIS BESTEST FRIEND!” Moonbin groaned. Jinwoo mirrored him. “NO, HE DID NOT JUST DO THAT!”
Jieun sipped her grape soda, glancing at Eunwoo who was behind the counter, drying mugs. She caught his eye and he gave a slight shake of his head, showing his disapproval. Jieun smiled, taking another bite of her cake which was halfway done. Suddenly, Sanha slipped into the seat beside her, thrusting a napkin into her face. “You have cream on your nose,” he stated matter-of-factly. MJ silently crept behind Jieun as Sanha got the cream off. Just as she was about to pick up her soda, MJ screamed.
“GOT YOUR NOSE,” he shouted, pinching Jieun’s nose. Jieun jumped in her seat as Eunwoo came out from behind the counter, smacking MJ’s head with the cake menu. “Ouch,” MJ muttered, rubbing his head. He moved over to the other side of the bench to make space for Eunwoo. Since Jieun was an interior design major and a physics/chemistry minor, she always brought her sketchbook around. She was always in D. Store, nearly everyday, so the 100th time that she walked in was the time that they all decided to buy her an actual sketchbook. Jieun carried her sketchbook from Daiso for $1.50 into the cafe everyday until she got her actual sketchbook, a Strathmore 300 pg one.
“So Jieun, since Mother’s Day is coming up, I wanted to offer a special cake and I’ve been thinking about flavors and stuff. Can you draw up a cake and see if we can make it?” Eunwoo asked. “Yea sure. Since it’s supposed to be special, we can probably do 2-3 layers and for Mother’s Day, we can write that in frosting. We can probably use fondant to make some roses and daisies and stuff,” she stated, flipping to a new page on her sketchbook. Within a few minutes, she had a rough draft of the cake done and Moonbin, Jinwoo, and Rocky slid into the bench across from her to look at it. “Does this look good?” Jieun asked, turning the sketchbook around so that the boys could see the product. “Ooooooh,” they chorused. “Now we have to try and make it,” Eunwoo announced. “Can we make it lemon flavoured?” Sanha whined. “Only if there can be strawberries too!” Moonbin exclaimed, looking over at Eunwoo.
“Why are you looking at me? I’m not the baker, Rocky is,” Eunwoo grumbled. Sanha and Moonbin switched their puppy dog eyes to Rocky who threw his hands up. “Fine, I’ll do it,” Rocky said, exasperated. Jinwoo glanced over at Jieun, who sighed and banged her head on the table.
The next few days were spent in the cafe once Jieun finished school. They worked on the design, flavors, batter, etc. Rocky collapsed onto the flour sacks in the corner of the kitchen. “Finally, it’s done,” he groaned, proceeding to scream into the nearby bowl of whipped cream. The two-tiered cake featured lemon zest and extract mixed into the batter with strawberry slices in the whipped cream between the layers that each tier had. The top of the cake featured sliced strawberries organized into roses alongside fondant daisies. Rocky had managed to write Happy Mother’s Day in lemon jelly across the top. The frosted outside on the lower tier was a cherry blossom pink and the cake looked like something from an actual bakery.
In the process of making the cake, Eunwoo had decided to create a special French toast in honor of Mother’s Day. After they had made the cake sketch, Eunwoo had sent Jieun a text with lots of puppy dog eye and heart emojis, begging her to design a french toast plate. It was his usual French toast, sprinkled with powdered sugar and cut into triangles. However, instead of the usual dollop of sea salt creme and scoop of ice cream, there were various fruits and whipped cream with a side of chocolate syrup and your choice of 2 ice cream scoops. There was also lemonade and mocha on the side.
Mother’s Day came around and as Jieun walked into D. Store for her usual morning coffee, she blinked in shock at the amount of customers. It was flooded with mother-child pairings, all of which were trying to place an order for the cake or the french toast. Luckily, they had done lots of the preparation beforehand. Since the orders for cake were flooded along with the french toast, Jinwoo abandoned his usual overseeing mode to help Rocky with the cake as MJ abandoned his coffee post to help out with the french toast. Sanha grimaced as he ran in and out of the kitchen, placing plates of french toast onto the wooden tables.
As he stepped on his shoelace which had come undone yet again, the plate of french toast went flying. It would have crashed to the ground had Eric not caught it. He leaned back in his chair, handing it to a flustered Sanha. “Oh now the plating is ruined,” Eric sighed. “I’ll pay for it.”
Moonbin turned around from his coffee making station. “Eric Nam? I haven’t seen you for a while,” he said before walking to Jieun and handing her a compostable, eco-friendly cup full of her usual coffee. “Thanks,” she smiled before weaving her way out of the crowd of people.
“We’ll have to talk later about your new single, Runaway. I need to get these orders in first though,” Moonbin grinned. “I’ll help out,” Eric announced, rolling up the sleeves of his white sweater. “You sure? Wouldn’t want you getting that sweater dirty,” he said. Eric smirked. “I think that you’re forgetting that I used to cook lunch for all of you when you were freshmen in high school,” he laughed before throwing on an apron. “Whatever you say,” Moonbin grumbled, laughing out loud just moments after.
Jieun walked back to the cafe in the spring sunlight after she had finished her classes, planning to finish the rest of her work at D. Store like she usually did. She skipped into the cafe before hearing a “Sorry we’re closed.” Eunwoo looked up from where he was slumped on the bench. “Oh it’s you Jieun,” he sighed before collapsing completely on the bench. “Rough day huh?” she questioned before sliding into the seat across of him. The rest of the boys stumbled out from the back before each falling into a bench. Jinwoo crossed his arms, leaning on them from behind the counter. “Hey at least we made a ton of profit. That means all of you get bonuses.”
“WAIT REALLY?” Sanha screamed, bolting upright and managing to hit his elbow on the table in the process. “Yep. I’ll include them in your paycheck,” Jinwoo grinned. Rocky came out of the kitchen, balancing 3 plates of the huge french toast dish and 7 slices of cake on his arm. “Here,” he said, sliding a piece of cake and a plate of french toast in front of Jieun. “Share it with Eunwoo. “I don’t want it,” Eunwoo groaned, waving his white handkerchief in the air like a flag. “I’m so sick of that dish after testing 34 different versions of it. I don’t think I’ll be eating French toast anytime soon.”
Rocky chuckled a little before sitting down beside Jieun and sliding the next table over. “I don’t think so buddy,” MJ announced, sliding onto the chair in front of her. Everyone gathered around the table, fighting for a spot near a person they liked. As Rocky set down the plates of food, a disheveled Eric came out from the back, sidling next to the closest person but failing to do so and instead falling onto the floor. Everyone laughed as he stumbled to a nearby chair. The sun set slowly outside D. Store. Time was passing but most of all, he warm atmosphere convinced Jieun that she would never find better friends anywhere else.
A/N: I don’t like the ending of this but I have no idea how to end it so lol. Below are drawings of the Mother’s Day special dishes that I feel like they would make. I drew it in class so it might be a lil messy. The graphite from my other drawing also kind of transferred onto it ;-; anyways. Hope you guys are in soft boo hours after that. Roses on cake by @10hour11minute
#baby#kpop#astro#kings#baby astro#fanfic#fanfiction#astro fanfiction#astro fluff#mc#jieun#sanha#yoon sanha#rocky#park minhyuk#moonbin#cha eunwoo#eunwoo#lee dongmin#dongmin#mj#myungjun#kim myungjun#jinjin#park jinwoo#astro jinjin#kpop fanfiction#barista au#cafe au#Kpop fluff
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Why Her? (Part 4)
Prompt: You’re in love with Chris Evans...but your best friend is dating him
Warning: language, adult content-ish? jealousy, drama-rama
Word count: 784
Note: This is for one of my bestest friends. I hope she enjoys it! @amarvelouswritings This will feature Sebastian Stan and OFC Lexi. This is a drabble/short chapter series. Beta’d by the perfect @like-a-bag-of-potatoes
Forever Tags: @amarvelouswritings @cocosierra94 @essie1876 @magpiegirl80 @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @harleyquinnandscarletwitch @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please @superwholocked527 @myparadise1998
Chris Evans Tags: @obsessedwithmisha @camigt1999 @lostinspace33 @alwayshave-faith @elleatrixlestrange
Why Her Tags: @seargantbcky @sevennight7 @supernatural-girl97 @princess76179 @nerdingoutismylife @shamvictoria11 @ajaxfuckingfreeman @rda1989 @soundslikevanilla @karlhacontreras @tacohead13 @masha-meow01@elyza-jeanette @forever-wander-neversettle @sorryimacrapwriter @buenostardissherlock @wangdeasang @justformarvel @loki-bucky-wanda-ohmy @queendivaofthedark
~~~~~~~~~~~
You arrived on set for work and immediately your boss told you that Chris’ makeup artist was out with the flu and you needed to handle him and Sebastian and Anthony. This was going to be a long day.
But as soon as you got to Chris he greeted you with a sweet, warm smile and even a hug, and all your worries and stress melted away.
“Hey, Y/N.”
“Hi?” you said and it almost sounded like a question, being taken off guard by his extra friendliness today.
“You better layer it on today, they’re gonna put us through some shit,” he said as he leaned back, ready for you to style his hair and makeup.
“I doubt pretty boy over here needs any extra makeup,” Sebastian said from a chair over as he glanced through his lines.
“Har-har. I’m not that pretty. Well...okay, maybe a little pretty,” he said before laughing and you joined in. Every time you styled Chris it was a joy as you ended up laughing and joking and carrying on. It didn’t ever get that way with anyone else.
“What have you been up to?” Chris questioned as he looked ahead in the mirror, watching your reflection move around him.
“Not much. Lex wants me to read over a few of her songs, maybe sing a few bars, you know...” you said as you worked on him.
“Oh yeah? She never lets me hear her works in progress, you’re lucky.”
Instantly, the green eyed monster reared its ugly head.
“Yeah, I suppose so. How about you two? I heard you’re gonna go out this weekend. Everything good with you two?”
“Yeah, yeah it is. We’re going to go camping.”
“Lexi...camping? Since when?”
“Since camping means we stay at a five star resort and hike during the day,” he said with a playful grin.
“Hah, that sounds more like it,” you noted. “She’s not exactly one for the outdoors.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. Sometimes I wish she was. I love hiking, kayaking, canoeing, caving...ya know? Just getting out there.”
“Absolutely,” you agreed. “That’s one thing she and I don’t agree on. She’s all about indoors unless it’s a music festival, but other than that, the idea of going outside appalls her.”
“And you?” he questioned. “Do you like it?”
“Oh, hell yeah. Give me a sleeping bag and tent any day.”
“See? That’s what I like! You could join us if you want,” he noted with a wide grin as your eyes met in the mirror, lingering on each other’s gazes for a moment before you snapped back to reality.
“I’d love to come. I wouldn’t be imposing...right?” you asked as you worked on his hair. You prayed the answer was no, because you wanted this opportunity to be near him, but you would understand if they didn’t really want you there.
“Hell no. We’d love to have you, the more the merrier!” he insisted, looking at you in the mirror, a tender gaze shared between you two.
A warm glow filled inside you at his words. “If you say so, I’ll just need to dust off my camping gear. Maybe I can even talk Lex into real camping, not staying at the Ritz and walking a mile into the woods,” you mentioned with a smile. You looked him over and nodded. “Okay, you’re all done.”
“Great, thanks,” he said as you moved on to Sebastian.
“What are you two rambling on about?” Sebastian wondered in a teasing tone.
“Camping,” Chris informed happily.
“Would you wanna come?” you asked, remembering Lex’s request. “My friend Lexi would really like to meet you.”
“Would she now?” he asked with a coy smile, staring ahead.
“Yeah, man, she's the one I'm always telling you about,” Chris interjected.
At his words, a pain twisted in your chest.
“Oh, that Lexi,” he said in a knowing voice. “The one you've kept locked away from the world? The one you didn't want me to meet?” he teased with raised eyebrows as Chris gave him a funny look back. “So The Lextasy wants to meet me?” he gaped. “Hell yeah I’ll join you,” he said, clearly excited.
Great. Now two hot bachelors wanted your friend. How fucking typical… And you were going to get to spend the weekend watching them fight over her, try to win her heart, impress her, paw all over her. Probably all while you sat on the side like a fucking potato, doomed to watch it all and say nothing.
“Awesome, we’re meeting at Lexi’s Friday night at 4:00. I’ll text you the address Sebas,” Chris said as he got up to go shoot a scene.
#why her#chris evans#chris evans x reader#chris evans x ofc#chris evans fic#Sebastian Stan#sebastian stan fic#sebastian stan x ofc
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92 statements tag!!
Rules: you must answer these 92 statements and tag 20 people
tagged by: raquel! @iloveyoojung ❤️
ok here we go!
The Last:
1. Drink - lukewarm water from a bottle i accidentally left under blazing sunlight
2. Phone call - my mamã
3. Text message - [in portuguese] “THEY PUT LEMON ON MY SUSHI”
4. Song you listened to - dracula by f(x) (i mean, technically it’s playing as i type this)
5. Time you cried - uuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhh it was either two days or two weeks ago............i can't tell...............
Have You Ever:
6. Dated someone twice - yep
7. Kissed someone and regretted it - yep
8. Been cheated on - nein
9. Lost someone special - uuuuh yes?
10. Been depressed - i am currently
11. Gotten drunk and thrown up - YEP i cleaned the mess up afterwards tho and i remember feeling really proud of myself for wiping a toilet seat with wobbly knees and blurry vision vjuhkbbkjfdbnxd
List 3 Favorite Colors:
12-14. mmm black, white, pink/red
In The Last Year Have You:
15. Made new friends - irl? not that i remember
16. Fallen out of love - ......................not yet
17. Laughed until you cried - probably but i can’t remember a specific moment
18. Found out someone was talking about you - oui
19. Met someone who changed you - OUI
20. Found out who your friends are - ,,,,yeah
21. Kissed someone on your facebook list - haven’t kissed anyone since haikyuu season 1
General:
22. How many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: everyone really! i almost automatically unfriend everyone i don’t talk to/like anymore
23. Do you have any pets: the prettiest cat!!
24. Do you want to change your name: nah i like joão too much
25. What did you do for your last birthday: i turned 18 so my best friend and two other schoolmates took me out to eat hot dogs and look at ducks and peacocks!! i love them!!!!!!!! tho later that day i had a huge fight with my dad and had to brush off the ever so familiar death wish~wonderful .......actually thinking back on it i don’t think it was on the same day,,,,,,was around that time tho
26. What time did you wake up: 8-ish am
27. What were you doing at midnight last night: oh wow i can’t remember for the life of me but i was probably talking to raquel!!
28. Name something you can’t wait for: idk man some sense of peace? i know that’s a generic wish but i’m sick of fear and uneasiness and uncertainty i want to live
29. When was the last time you saw your mom: this afternoon! she left for a vacation but i’ll probably see her again on friday night
30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: THE WHOLE THING
31. What are you listening to right now: kick by f(x) dfdhusgkd
32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: ghfdg no
33. Something that is getting on your nerves: if it take off my jacket i get cold (which makes me sleepy) but if i put it on it gets too hot dfjdshgdksgdfjg
34. Most visited website: tumblr + youtube
38. Hair color: naturally it’s like a dark brown but now it’s reddish
39. Long or short hair: medium-ish? right now it’s a little below my collarbones, though it’s layered in a strange way because of my outgrown undercut
40. Do you have a crush on someone: perhaps?
41. What do you like about yourself: my chin dimple! it’s cute!
42. Piercings: i used to have pierced ears but after several allergic reactions and an unpleasant encounter with an earring stuck INSIDE my ear lobe and thus having to be pulled out through the back over a kitchen sink, i think i’m okay. i kinda want a septum tho???!!
43. Blood type: i have no idea like i asked my mom and dad but neither of them know fdgkfdbjds tho probably an O???
44. Nickname: ervilha (pea in portuguese), fifi, mary mary, mary john cena (i made the mistake of telling my best friend what the kids from elementary school called me and now she won’t let it die), my last name, etc.
45. Relationship status: Sistar_-_Lonely.mp3
46. Zodiac: capricorn
47. Pronouns: she/her
48. Favorite tv show: i don’t really watch tv apart from cooking shows,, does anime count? if so then either zankyou no terror or oofuri
49. Tattoos: nonce at the moment!
50. Right or left handed: used to be left handed but was forced to switch to my right for some reason
51. Surgery: none yet
52. Piercings: nah
53. Sport: mariahcareyidontknowher.gif
55. Vacation: im fine being a hermit
56. Pairs on trainers: ein?
More General:
57. Eating - the greatest
58. Drinking - bestest
59. I’m about to - pee cause i’ve been sitting hear too long
61. Waiting for - the sweet release of Death™ (imma keep this answer because Same™) (shit me too)
62. Want - to pee. a hug would be nice too.
63. Get married - meh
64. Career - uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhh
65. Hugs or kisses - why not both?
66. Lips or eyes - eyes
67. Shorter or taller - i don’t really care tbh but around same height?
68. Older or younger - (wait as in for like.dating?) doesn’t really matter to me personally tho an age gap wider than a year or so is where i draw the line
70. Nice arms or nice stomach - uuuuuuuhhhhhhhh neither?
71. Sensitive or loud - they’re both great!
72. Troublemaker or hesitant - i.. don’t know?
Have you ever:
74. Kissed a stranger: nah.. i mean, i kissed a free hugs guy on the cheek once while i was drunkish...
75. Drank hard liquor: does cachaça count?
76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: nope but i’ve broken my glasses because i fell asleep on them
77. Turned someone down: not that i remember
78. Sex on the first date: who is sex i don’t know him
79. Broken someone’s heart: yah
80. Had your heart broken: yAH
81. Been arrested: JESUs no
82. Cried when someone died: i don’t think so
83. Fallen for a friend: i mean i really only end up crushing on friends so!
Do You Believe In:
84. Yourself: uuuuuuuuuuh sometimes?
85. Miracles: nah
86. Love at first sight: nein
87. Santa claus: DJFKDdfgjbdfh yah
88. Kiss on the first date: i mean why not go for it!
89. Angels: yEAh
Other:
90. Current best friend’s name: joana~~~
91. Eye color: brown
92. Favorite movie: i dont really watch movies so i can’t really pick one vdjhshjgdf
OKAY SO!! i have to tag 20 people but i don’t know that many hfdjgsdf anyway tho in return i’m tagging @intothenewworldbysnsd @ultsunny @moonzitao @anarcha-lesbian and @lunahobi ! ! ! 💗💞💓💕💝
#i keep tagging you in everything i do fhjgbfmdgds sorry if i'm being annoying!#thanks for tagging me!! i love these things aaaaaah
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Faberry 👗 Post-Prom
Who: Quinn and Rachel.
What: Junior Year Prom and Post-Prom.
Where: Berry Farm.
When: May 19, 2012.
For Prom Junior year, things were different for Quinn than they were when it came to other school dances. She didn’t care so much to have a date to prom and preferred to go with Rachel. It seemed easier (and better) because they didn’t have to worry about both having dates and besides, Quinn wanted to crash at Rachel’s after and if either one of them had a date, they’d have to pay attention to them and it could possibly interfere with Quinn’s plan to sleep over.
The day of prom, Quinn got ready at home. She had slept over at Rachel’s the night before, but then headed off to get ready at home. They bought each other corsages and Quinn kept hers at home to surprise Rachel with it. Plus, it just seemed better, showing up all ready with Rachel ready too instead of getting dressed together. Quinn’s mom was home, her father was not, but Judy helped Quinn get zipped up into her dress and took a few quick photos once she was completely ready to go. Judy said she hoped next year, she would go with a boy, but was glad to see she wasn’t going with Noah Puckerman. Quinn didn’t like that so much because Puck was a nice guy and she thought it sucked her parents couldn’t see that.
After Quinn said her goodbyes and made sure she had everything she needed to sleep over Rachel’s, she drove over to the Berry farm. They exchanged corsages -- Quinn had selected a star-gazer lily for Rachel -- and Quinn was a little in awe over how beautiful Rachel looked without Quinn needing to do her hair and make-up for her, though she didn’t say that because she didn’t want Rachel to think Quinn had no faith in her abilities to doll herself up. Rachel had pleasantly surprised her and Quinn took a ton of selfies with her before finally letting the Berry dads get some photos. It was nice to be dressed up and going to prom, and Quinn enjoyed the attention from her mom and the Berry dads.
The limo came to pick them up, which was another reason Quinn had gone to Rachel’s first, so there was one less stop on the tour of picking their group up. Quinn felt giddy and stayed by Rachel the whole night, taking photos and laughing a lot. She had a wonderful time and was glad to simply have the chance to dance and have fun with her friends. She felt lucky to have such a great group of people to hang out with and rely on. Whenever she went to get a drink or use the bathroom, she took Rachel by the hand and led her around. What was prom without her best friend by her side? Besides, Quinn didn’t want to lose Rachel within the group of attendees and have to waste time finding her after a quick trip to the bathroom or taking a break from dancing.
By the time the night was over, Quinn was tired. She danced way too much and her feet hurt, so on the limo ride home, her heels came off and she leaned against the shoulder of her best friend as she listened to the rest of the Romantics laugh and chatter away. This was really one of the best nights and she was so happy to have gotten tons of photos on her phone and memories to go along with it. She said goodnight when they arrived at Rachel’s, hugging everyone before climbing out barefoot with her heels in hand. Once they were inside, Quinn dropped her heels near the door and headed for the kitchen.
“I need a snack and a drink,” she announced, her voice a tad hoarse, and stopped to look back at Rachel, lowering her volume. “Are your dads still up?” It wasn’t super late or anything, and there was some lamps on, but that wasn’t unusual that they might be left on for the night.
Forget Cloud Nine. Rachel had currently taken up residence on Cloud 900, because the night had been perfect.
Rachel spent an exorbitant amount of time prepping for the event once Quinn had left to get ready at her own home. There was a face mask and moisturizer and makeup routine she had been practicing in secret for the past two weeks until she was sure she could apply each layer of color and shimmer and shine with flawless results. Her hair was easier, large enhanced curls and waves that mimicked the flow of her dress’s skirt. And she had specifically picked out her dress because she could slip into it without the aid of Quinn (or having to ask her fathers for their assistance).
She was just slipping into her heels when Quinn arrived at the farm, and though Rachel had seen her dress, nothing compared to actually seeing Quinn in said dress. She was certain she was wearing her heart and her love not just on her nonexistent sleeve, but on her face. It showed in her dropped jaw and wide eyes, the way she swore you could see each and every quickened beat of her heart because surely it was just going to burst through her chest. Quinn was gorgeous, a siren in red, and Rachel would gladly perish in the sea of her love.
And maybe that’s why her fingers shook just so as her daddy handed her the boxed corsage and her dad snapped photo after photo. After placing the two delicate gardenias tied up with green ribbon -- to match Quinn’s eyes, of course -- and pearl detail around Quinn’s wrist, Rachel wanted nothing more than to press a kiss to that very hand. But with her dads watching Rachel refrained and instead opted to keep that hand in hers for the rest of the night.
Which she did as they slipped into the limo -- oh the fantasies that played out across her mind as they had it all to themselves as they made their way into town and their first stop -- and after they arrived at the venue. They might have only been there as friends, but for Rachel it felt like so much more than that. Quinn kept her close the entire night and the ride back home, snuggling close and using her, to Rachel’s delight, as a pillow. And when they were back home, heels in hand and tip-toeing through the home, Rachel had decided. Tonight would be the night she kissed Quinn.
Following Quinn into the kitchen, Rachel paused, closed her eyes, and listened. Hearing the faint sounds of what she thought was likely an action sequence, she gestured toward the door that led to the basement. “I think they’re downstairs watching a movie.” With swift movements she then bypassed Quinn so she could get the fridge first to see if her daddy had come through to help make this night extra special. And he had indeed because resting inside the shelf door was a bottle of champagne, small enough to fill just two flutes. Rachel grabbed it, two bottles of water, and a container of fruit salad left over from their waffle breakfast. Then with only slight difficulty Rachel popped the cork, filled their glasses, and prepared to toast. “To the best night with my best girl.”
After Rachel said it, Quinn realized she could hear the movie playing. She stopped and paused as Rachel cut her off and instead, watched her with mild amusement. Her eyes widened slightly as she saw the small bottle of champagne. “Are we supposed to be drinking this?” she asked with a laugh but she toasted Rachel all the same. “To the bestest night with my bestest girl,” Quinn agreed with her and gently clanked her glass against Rachel's before sipping it. Her eyes met Rachel's over her glass and then she felt warm and wondered if the alcohol worked that fast as blush began to fill her cheeks.
With her own heart thundering in her ears, Rachel was sure Quinn could hear it too. Maybe that’s the reason why she was blushing, the natural color rising to her cheeks making her look all the more beautiful. “And yes we are supposed to be indulging. I negotiated the terms of a small bottle with my daddy as an additional way to celebrate.” And now it would just serve as liquid courage for the kiss Rachel was planning to lay on Quinn.
Cracking off the lid of the container, Rachel didn’t bother with grabbing a fork and instead just reached in before popping a grape in her mouth. Then, “I know I’ve already said it,” and she had multiple times while they were dancing and on the way home, “but tonight really was wonderful, and I wouldn’t have wanted to spend it with anyone but you, Quinn.”
“Oooh, I like the way you think,” Quinn commented and took another sip of the champagne before setting her flute down. She reached for a strawberry from the container and popped the whole thing in her mouth. She nodded at Rachel then offered her a smile. “Me either. I don't think I've ever had as much fun at a dance as I have tonight. Plus I get to sleepover here and that makes it even better.” The smile turned to a full on grin and then Quinn reached for a grape and popped it into her mouth.
Rachel’s face twisted up for just a second, so she glanced down and was grateful when her hair fell from where it was tucked behind her ear to curtain and hide her expression. Though there had been forgiveness, memories of the fall and two months of silence weren’t easily forgotten. But there would be no point in drudging up those feelings now just to point out that Quinn could have had all that then, too, if she hadn’t decided that Noah and sleeping with him was more important. So after a deep breath and an expression that outwardly showed the love and affection and happiness she was feeling inside, Rachel returned Quinn’s smile as she teased, “You’re just staying over so you can get a second helping of waffles in the morning.”
Quinn didn't notice the change of expression in Rachel. She was eating a couple more grapes then another strawberry. She looked over at Rachel when she looked up, a grin returning to her own face. “Am I that transparent?” She laughed and then picked up her champagne for quick sip. “I do believe I am quite spoiled here.” Which Quinn liked. She was spoiled at home and at Rachel's. She was a very lucky girl. “Maybe I'll actually help with waffles tomorrow. Maybe.”
“Please, Quinn,” Rachel laughed. “We both know you’ll stay burrowed beneath the covers until I come back up and drag you out of bed with the promise that waffles have been baked and are waiting to be eaten.” Not that Rachel minded that process since especially as of late in involved her draping herself over Quinn and maybe a tickle or two. “The only helping you’ll do will be to eat them.”
Quinn laughed again and pictured all the times Rachel had woken her up for morning waffles and how she had to practically drag her out of bed. She had gotten better because once she knew she was a few short minutes from eating Rachel's delicious vegan waffles, she was able to will her body out of bed. “Okay, you're right, I'll just help eat them.” There was a kind of goofy smile on her face now and Quinn finished her champagne then placed the glass in the sink. “I think I'm just about ready to head upstairs and change and get my cuddle on.” She had one more grape and that was it.
Once inside -- she ensured the door was not just closed, but also locked -- Rachel bee-lined toward her closet. While she loved her dress, she was ready to be released from its somewhat constrictive top. After removing the top and skirt, and rehanging them on the back of door, Rachel, wearing the pair of shorts and tanktop she had wisely placed in her closet earlier this afternoon, gestured toward the bathroom. “Do you want me to help with your hair?”
While Rachel went to change, Quinn got her nightgown out and a pair of shorts for underneath since the nightgown was a little on the short side. She attempted to change as well, but couldn't get the zipper. She nodded at Rachel's suggestion. “Yes, please, I have a lot of pins in it. I'm also going to need you to unzip me.” And she turned and lifted her hair so that Rachel had access to the zipper.
“Of course.” Rachel did her best not to take advantage of the situation, though it was hard as she dragged the zipper to reveal so much skin and a particular fantasy flashed before her. One that involved pressing her lips against Quinn’s neck, peppering kisses along the path of skin she revealed, and molding her body to Quinn’s once the dress had dropped to the ground. But instead Rachel did indulge just a bit as she let her knuckles intimately skim along Quinn’s spine before she took a step back.
“I’m going to go start on taking off my makeup.” Rachel’s head inclined toward the en suite. “When you’re ready, come on in and I’ll help with all the pins.”
Quinn waited as Rachel unzipped her then let go of her hair and nodded to her. “Okay, I’ll be right there.” Once Rachel was in the bathroom, Quinn undressed and slipped on her pajamas. She hung her dress up in Rachel’s closet then headed into the bathroom. She began to pull the bobby pins from her hair. “I still can’t believe what a fun night it was. And no drama too with anyone. It was so great.” Her gaze was focused on her reflection as some of the pinned back hair began to fall around her face.
Rachel hummed her agreement as she discarded the cotton ball now coated with the eyeshadow and mascara she was working to remove. Their group had stayed close together throughout most of the night, trading dance partners and stories, and of course making sure everyone was having a good (and safe!) time.
“Here. Let me help you those.” Just as she had done when she helped Quinn unzip her dress, Rachel stepped directly into Quinn’s space. She’d take any excuse to be close, and really, to have her hands in Quinn’s hair.
“Thanks, Rachel,” Quinn said softly and watched the other girl in the mirror for the moment as she continued to work pins out of her own hair. She placed them in a pile on Rachel's bathroom counter, planning to clean them up tomorrow because she was far too tired to do it tonight. She was also going to do a quick job of taking off her make up as well.
“Quinn,” Rachel scolded, though a light laugh completely nullified the firm tone she used. “I said I would help.” So she gently batted Quinn’s hands away and then began the process of removing the remaining pins from Quinn’s hair. With the utmost care and a ginger touch, one by one she dropped each pin onto the vanity surface and then would use her fingers to comb out each strand and curl. And if Rachel had cause to add to lightly scratch her nails along Quinn’s scalp or allow the pads of her fingers to slightly massage, she took full advantage of the opportunity.
Quinn laughed at Rachel's words and light smack to her hand. She lowered her hands and watched Rachel in the mirror, noting the way she took great care to remove each pin. Her eyes closed once Rachel started to scratch or apply pressure to her scalp because it felt really good, especially after her hair pinned up all night.
“Mmm… thanks, Rach,” she said when Rachel had finished and she opened her eyes again to give her a smile. With practiced ease, she used the make up wipes and one cotton ball with makeup remover to rid her face from the eyeliner, shadow, and foundation. She could use a shower, but she was too tired and would do so after waffle breakfast tomorrow. With her discarded makeup removers in the trash, Quinn headed back into the bedroom and climbed into her usual side of the bed.
“I’ll join you shortly, Q,” Rachel called out as Quinn headed back to the bedroom and got under the covers. She still had some makeup to remove, so after grabbing a wipe, Rachel took care to scrub every inch of her face before she grabbed her facewash to guarantee that she wouldn’t be going to sleep with any potential missed pore-clogging layers.
After patting her face drying with a towel, Rachel added a line of toothpaste along her brush. She had plans to kiss Quinn after all, and anything less than minty fresh breath simply would not do. Having brushed and rinsed, Rachel was ready to head to bed, but she lingered, gazing at her own reflection as she contemplated her next move. There were of course nerves, worries that Quinn could reject her, but tonight had been special. It felt special. Yes, they had attended prom together as friends, but it had actually felt like they had been together. They were each other’s dates, taking pictures together, even slow dancing, and for Rachel the lines of just friends seemed to blur. Or really, they had been blurring for months now. With a final, confident nod at her own reflection, Rachel flicked the light switch and headed back into her dimly lit bedroom.
“Q?” Rachel started as she climbed into bed and under the covers, slipping across the mattress to press herself close to Quinn’s warm body. “Tonight was so wonderful and I--” A deep breath. “I have something I want to give you.” Caught up in the motions of what she was about to do, it was only then that Rachel realized Quinn hadn’t stirred as she got into bed because she was already softly snoozing the night away. Her moment lost, Rachel breathed a heavy sigh, one weighted with disappointment, but also tenderness for how beautiful Quinn was in the moment. Brushing back an errant strand of hair from her friend’s forehead, Rachel whispered, “Thank you for the most magical night. I love you, Quinn,” and then she placed a kiss as close to the corner of Quinn’s lips as she dared.
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