#and a teacher goes ‘don’t be childish. my little three year old daughter plays in the water like a water animal it’s nothing to be scared of

[vydumaj]

sometimes I feel like I went to elementary school in like the 1970s in comparison to my 10 years ish younger cousins 😹

since I didn’t eat pork I very often got special food since pork was the most common meat they’d serve at school, which meant I always got my food last and I couldn’t ask for the school kitchen staff to give me less (they hardly ever did that when people asked to, though). the most common replacement was soy sausages which are absolutely gross imo and I still can’t eat them, and bc I got my food last teachers kept a hawk eye on me to make sure I finished, and I was never allowed to leave before finishing, no matter how bad the food tasted and even though I ate a lot of it…I was called immature and childish and spoiled for not wanting to eat, and while my classmates finished their food (which they got earlier and I assume was better tasting since the recipes were adapted for pork) and played outside I always had to sit with teachers watching over me until the older students came…

apparently this is not a thing at all anymore, like 10-15 years later, my aunts and uncles were shocked I had to go through what they did as kids too when I’m closer in age to their children

[bruh-haikyuu]

A/N: Iwaizumi domestic AU!! I am here to quench your Iwaizumi Hajime father-of-three thirsts.

On another note: Haikyuu manga ends today :(( Guess who’s gonna fucking DIE. Anyways, this manga has left so much of an impact to me, I feel like it’s already imprinted in my heart. Thank you so much to Furudate for making such a wonderful story, and may their stories flourish! I’ll still make content though, I’m really waiting on that new light novel and the second cour of the anime pspsspsps 👁👁

ménage. | iwaizumi hajime episode 1 – haimish.

summary: in which your oldest son is about to begin elementary school, but your husband misplaces the documents while in a frenzy.

word count: 2215

warnings: manga spoilers!!

(adj.) homey; cozy and unpretentious

At seven and four, Kazuki and Isao were at the age where they couldn’t keep their messy doodles confined into the sketchbooks you’d bought for them.

The first victim to their mischief was the wall in the kitchen beside the door leading to your backyard. It was a small parade of animals, with streamers and party hats. Tiger-san with his jagged crown, the dainty family of rabbits, and the hefty Bear-san (“No, Mommy! That’s Cat-san!” your second oldest had huffed indignantly at the clutter of crayon circles) who was at the very front of the entire crew. Your boys were lucky enough that it had been you who’d walked into their little streak of artistry. An understanding glance had been enough, seeing that you probably weren’t so different back then. You’d clean it up with a secret trick your mother had taught you and everything in the Iwaizumi household was back in business. Easy-peasy.

But had it been Hajime who’d encountered their mess... let’s just say you wouldn’t hear the end of the boys’ shrill wails until the next week.

Unfortunately for you and your trusty washcloth, Kazuki and Isao’s artistic escapades didn’t stop at the kitchen wall. Next, it was the floors, the windows of the entrance and even on the door to your bedroom (with a side of elephant stickers that you’d admit were pretty cute). Thus, it didn’t take very long for your husband to finally be faced by their “little” temperament. And not very long for the boys to be faced by their father’s wrath.

But there was simply a stubborn rock settled somewhere in your sons’ heads—they get it from Hajime, you’d kept telling yourself—and for simply the reason of being boys in their early youths, they kept on drawing. Everywhere. Anywhere.

At least the both of you were thankful enough for Hina-chan. Still a tiny ball of warmth curled up cozily against in your arms, Hina was the youngest and the only daughter in your modest family of five. And the least likely source of your daily hurdles.

“By the time Hina learns to hold a pencil, should we just introduce our home as an art gallery or something?” Hajime had asked you rather comically after seeing the colorful family portrait Isao had drawn in one of his reference books.

Though Kazuki, your first child, was completely aware of his responsibilities as an older brother, it was concerning enough that he still hadn’t let go of his childishness. He was seven now, and in a few months, delving into April, he’d be in first grade. Maybe he was simply rowdy in nature... who knows? With a gruff husband like Iwaizumi Hajime, anything was possible.

Elementary school... you pondered, gazing softly at your family in the living room. Hajime cradling Hina in one arm while he and the boys cheered wildly at the service ace that was displayed on TV. How exciting.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Remember to ask for ‘Ichimura-sensei’, alright? She was the teacher I talked to when Kazuki and I checked the school. She’ll know the details I asked her about in the last meeting so you just have to give her the application form.”

Hajime suppressed a chuckle at your adamant ramble. “You’ve only been telling me this all week. I won’t forget, you know.”

“Sorry,” you sighed, bouncing your sleeping daughter in your arms. “I just want to make sure nothing goes wrong. This is our firstborn we’re talking about.”

“Trust me, Y/N,” he smiled. “It’ll be fine.”

You could only nod quietly. Was it the maternal instinct within you that was acting up? It all felt too soon, too quick. If you blinked, Kazuki would’ve already gotten married already... You weren’t ready for that.

But the least you could do was get used to the changes that were going to happen around the house. Starting with this.

“You’ve brought the form with you, right? You didn’t forget it?”

You felt bad that your husband was being held up at the entrance to your little home, but it couldn’t hurt to be just slightly careful. Unclasping his bag, he scrabbled through it, shaking his head.

“Don’t worry, I’ve put it in a folder here last night, so there’s no way it would—Eh?”

More rummaging.

“Hajime, is everything alright?”

He was pulling things out of his bags now. 2000-yen bills, crumpled receipts, his packets of protein shakes, Hina’s diapers. But no application form. Nothing.

“I-It’s not there.”

“Huh?!”

“H-Hold on, I’ll check our bedroom,” his voice was in the least reassuring tone he could muster and you felt your heart drop a million feet into the ground.

Why would this happen now of all times? The document was already filled and sealed with your inkan*, payments documented, crucial information written on that single sheet of paper. Crucial information you couldn’t afford to fill in twice... and it was missing?

You really didn’t want to think about how today was the last day to submit applications—

“Kazuki!!” Hajime’s thunderous voice cut through the silence.

A tiny echo of pattering footsteps and Hina shifted against your chest but did not wake. You were thankful enough; anymore ruckus and your sanity would snap.

Yawning, your eldest scratched his dark bedhead and sauntered over to his father who fisted a sheet of paper in his hand. “Daddy, you’re too loud...”

Putting the paper onto full display, your eyes nearly bulged out of your head at what was on it.

Had the form always been so... colorful? You could barely see any writing on it, covered by the persistent doodles your son had scrawled over. Mixes of hiragana he’d been practicing, completed with small side drawings—Anpanman*, some horses and a purple paddy field. All in all: it was a mess. But it was clearly the form you’d filled in. And it was clearly Kazuki’s mess.

Hajime scowled, the space between his eyebrows wrinkling. “Did you do this?”

“...No.”

“Well it couldn’t be Isao or Hina, couldn’t it?” he seethed. “Don’t take me for an idiot. Isao’s been having playdates all week and Hina can’t draw yet. What did I tell you about drawing outside of the papers and books we gave you, huh?!”

“B-But I was just trying to help!” Kazuki exclaimed. “You and Mommy are always so busy taking care of papers. So I thought if I helped you write in it... you’d come and play with me again.”

Suddenly, a lump rose in your throat. You were always so busy taking care of Hina and Isao and their immeasurable demands, and your husband was either at work or out playing volleyball with the neighborhood team. You wondered how lonely it was for him the entire week you were taking care of the registrations.

How lonely it was, despite being surrounded by so much people.

Your husband, however, was completely unfazed. “Go to your room.”

“But Daddy, it’s not—!”

“Kazuki.” Each syllable he drew out sent a shiver down your spine. In a split second, the Iwaizumi household’s living room grew cold. “Go. To. Your. Room! Put your arms above your head and keep it that way until I come back!”

As if on cue, the waterworks emerged.

“I hate you, Daddy! I hate you! You never listen to me!” and that was the last thing you heard from the tear-streaked boy before he stumbled through the hallway, slamming his bedroom door behind him.

“...Mmn,” Hina roused, her tiny button nose flaring, and you instantly knew what was to come. Oh no...

Sighing in defeat, your husband crossed his arms and ambled back towards you and the bawling baby in your embrace. Pressing your lips together, you mumbled to him. “You could’ve been a bit nicer to Kazuki. Now look what happened.”

“He’ll never learn his lesson if I don’t get strict,” he said, the guilt crossing his eyes. Swimming. Settling. “I’m going to go ahead to the school before they close for the day. Ask if they’ve got anymore forms I can fill in there.”

You nodded, hands coming to rub gently against your daughter’s back as your husband kissed your forehead—a daunting ritual you did before whenever he left the house.

Then, he bent down to softly coo at the red-faced infant. “Hina-chan, how about a kiss for Daddy before I go?”

The result: Hina only cried louder. Repelled by the sudden change in volume, Hajime scratched the back of his neck remorsefully.

“I get it, I get it... I’m the bad guy today,” he rustled. “I guess I’ll be off now. I’ll leave the house in your care, Y/N.”

You smiled at him, your hard-working husband with a weak spot for your little family. “Be careful, Hajime-kun.”

As soon as the door clicked shut, you were left to your terror again. A crying seven-year old, a crying baby, and if all the noise were to wake up Isao from his afternoon nap... Geez, what a mess...

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Hajime really felt like he knew this guy somewhere... High school? A volleyball match? That refreshing aura wasn’t really difficult to tell apart, either...

“You’re number 2 from Karasuno High, ain’tcha?”

“Uwaah... Seijoh’s Iwaizumi Hajime...” Sugawara twinkled, the grey cowlick on his head standing up straight. “The atmosphere of an powerful ace really is hard to miss.”

Hajime blushed. When was the last time someone called him a ‘powerful ace’? He had you to call him that whenever you were feeling nostalgic, but otherwise, that label was a shard of the past.

“Sugawara-san, right?” he recalled. “You work here at this school?”

The man chuckled. “Yep! I’m a teacher now. How about you, Iwaizumi-san? What are you up to here?”

“Oh, I’m looking for Ichimura-sensei. I want to talk to her about the registration for my son.”

Sugawara shook his head for a moment before replying.

“Unfortunately, Ichimura-sensei is out with the flu. That’s why I’m covering the weekend shift for her. You can just give the forms to me, and we can look over the terms and conditions.”

What luck, Hajime thought. But at least having this guy around wasn’t going to be as bad of an experience.

“Ah... about that...” he started. “My kid drew all over the application form and I don’t remember making any copies. So, would it be a problem if I did it again right now? Me and my wife are in a bit of a tough spot at the moment.”

By the grace of God, Sugawara said, “I don’t think it’d be a issue. Let’s go to the office and discuss it together. Before that, can I ask for your ID, Iwaizumi-san?”

“Ah, yeah, sure, let me just get my wallet...” filing through his bag, Hajime rifled through the stacks of paper, looking... searching... And when he got to his wallet: “Huh?”

There it was. The application-payment form he’d filled in last week, in its pristine glory. And with absolutely zero drawings on it. There was his family seal and everything. Down to both of your signatures, in the blue ink you’d insisted on using (Hajime never really bothered to make out the different uses of different inks).

“The form...” he muttered. “It must’ve slipped from the folder or something. Then that means the one at home was probably a copy...”

Freezing, Hajime realized. Crap. What have I done?

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

By the time Hajime got home, the house was already quiet again. Isao and Hina were asleep in your bedroom—Hina in her crib and Isao laid spread-eagle on the limited expanse of your queen-size bed. Taking the opportunity of a silent home, you decided to use the time you had to eat some sweets you’d secretly stashed in the fridge away from your children’s eyes.

“What a ravenous wife,” he’d teased, only for you to smear a dollop of whipped cream across his face in retaliation.

It didn’t take him long to realize the muffled sobbing from Kazuki’s room had subsided too. Curiosity getting the best of him, your husband stepped inside the danger zone.

Hajime always thought that Kazuki was a peaceful sleeper. He could sleep anywhere and still look like he was having the time of his life. During times like this, where Hajime was drained empty at the end of the day, he couldn’t help but feel jealous of his son.

Gingerly picking him up from the carpeted floors, Hajime rested Kazuki’s head on the crook of his broad shoulder, his gentle breathing blowing faint breezes next to his nape. Looking down at the smattering of papers on the ground, he reached down to read one that Kazuki had presumably written right before he was knocked out cold.

I’m really sorree Sorry Daddy :( I promise to never draw on your things ever again. Kazuuki

Below the large lopsided text he’d written in crayon was a smudged drawing of (what seemed) to be him. Well, if Hajime was a stickman with prominent eyebrows that stuck out of his face.

“I’m sorry too, kid. Guess I was being unfair, huh?” he murmured. “I’ll make it up to you once you wake up. We’ll all play together. Me, you, Isao, Hina and your mom. We’ll use as much time as we have left.”

And Hajime never backed down on a promise.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Glossary:

inkan - personalized seals used in lieu of signatures in paperwork

anpanman - a Japanese children’s superhero cartoon character, looks like this

[lilithpooped]

Blood Runs Cold - Kim Hongjoong

Song Request: Blood Runs Cold by Def Leppard

Requested by: @lovekimhongjoong

Genre: FUCK I DON’T EVEN KNOW

A/n: Hi.. this song just.. strongly reminds me of despair. It reminds me of being desperate. I’m so sorry it turned out this sad but I still hope you like it. 💕

Hongjoong watches you play with your foster child. A nice afternoon, he’s lying on bed, you and your 3 year old daughter sitting next to him, playing with your makeup things and jewelry.. I’m so lucky, he thinks to himself.

~~~~

A beautiful morning, you two are in your bed, looking at each other’s face. Not saying anything. Your hand is on his left cheek, thumb caressing his face slowly. Your eyes are trying to tell something to him. And he understands. He definitely understands. He loves you, too.

~~~~

It’s past midnight. He wakes up from the movement of the bed. He sees you turning side to side, mumbling something in your dream.

“Baby! Baby wake up! Baby!” He tries to wake you up, shaking you slowly.

You wake up. Seeing him right beside you calms you down. You feel out of breath.

“I’m here. Don’t worry. Come here.” He hugs you whispering repeatedly “I’m here. Don’t worry. I’m here.”

~~~~

You are excited. You two are becoming foster parents for the second time. Finally your daughter will have a baby brother. Just one year younger than her. He looks at you, seeing your childish happiness still does things to him even after that many years.

~~~~

A dark evening. You are mad at him for being late for a date you two planned for your n’th anniversary. You tell him some bad things. He knows you don’t mean them. But he can’t help himself. He tells you some things just as bad as yours. You two go to sleep in different beds that night. He goes to your shared bedroom and you go to sleep next to your son. Neither of you can sleep. He goes to the living room and sees you sitting there watching the night.

“I’m sorry.” He says.

“I’m sorry, too.” You say.

~~~~

It’s like his first time seeing you in formal clothes. You have been taking care of your children for so long and finally you two can afford a babysitter now that you also decided to work again. He looks at you from your head to toe, taking in the scene in front of him. You look just as beautiful as you are in your pajamas. He loves you no matter what you’re wearing.

~~~~

You tell him that you’ll be late for dinner and he decides to prepare a surprise for you with your children. The kids are preparing the table and he’s cooking the dinner for you. He knows you are in distress nowadays. He wants you to smile. He even lets the children put different pairs of plates on the table ‘cause he knows you’ll like it anyway.

~~~~

It’s again a beautiful morning. Your son came to sleep between you last night because he had a nightmare. And your daughter came too when she realized he’s with you. Your double bed is not comfortable for 2 more people but you are happy anyways. He can see it in your eyes when you’re talking to your son. Your daughter hugs her father, kisses him on his cheek, holds his face in her small hands and says:

“Dad, you need to look at me, not at mom.”

~~~~

It’s your daughter’s first day in elementary school. She’s not happy. She doesn’t wanna be there. She’s crying and you’re holding yourself so hard not to cry. You look at Hongjoong and see him wiping his one tear. You hug your daughter one last time before leaving her there and turning back to your workplace. After leaving the school together, you look at Hongjoong and ask:

“What was that? Our strong father couldn’t stand his daughter’s cries I guess?”

“No, I remembered my first day at elementary school, that’s all.” He says trying to make you believe it.

“I don’t buy it, Mr. Kim!!” After giggling, you slowly stop your tracks. He sees and also stops.

“Can you hug me?” You ask.

“It seems like our mother is not that strong, either.” He jokes and hugs you. Yes he can always hug you. Whenever you like him to.

“She grew up so fast. Am I old now?” You ask, voice muffling because of being pulled to his chest.

“You’re always young and beautiful.”

“I don’t want them to grow up. They won’t like it anyway.”

“I know.”

~~~~

It’s the worst day in your lives. Your daughter’s teacher called you and said that your daughter fell down the stairs and hit her head. You are at the hospital now waiting for doctors to tell you something but you could guess how bad it was when you first saw the teacher’s shirt with blood stains on it. Hongjoong finally arrives, running fast to you.

“How’s she? Where’s she? What happened?”

You hug him crying. You both wait for doctors to tell you something.

~~~~

It’s the fifth night in a row that you can’t sleep. How can he sleep when he knows you’re overthinking again? He turns his face to you even though your back is turned at him. He knows you’re watching the night sky from the window beside your bed. He hugs you from behind. He knows you’re crying silently. He can feel it. He can understand it. Because he feels the same, if not worse.

“Don’t worry baby. Everything’s gonna be alright. Doctors said she’ll be alright. Don’t think about bad things.”

She’s staying at the hospital, in intensive care section. His mom knows you two spent last 4 days and nights at hospital and she told you that she would stay tonight so you could go home and get some sleep.

~~~~

You’re watching Hongjoong playing with your children. It’s been a year since your daughter healed and you’re just thankful. Thankful to whatever god there is. Thankful to Hongjoong. Thankful to his mom. Thankful to yours. You’re just thankful that everything turned out okay in the end. You think you wouldn’t have been able to get over it if something ever happened to your little girl. You think you wouldn’t have been able to handle even this much if it weren’t for Hongjoong’s support. He handled everything for you.

“Look, your mom also wants to be tickled!! Let’s go tickle her!!” He says cheerfully and they run to you laughing crazily. You get eye to eye with Hongjoong and he smiles lovingly. He knows better than to let you go in the depth of your emotions again.

~~~~

You’re driving to your kids’ school. They are both in the middle school now. You planned to eat out tonight as a family and you finished your work early to prepare a birthday surprise for Hongjoong. He doesn’t think you remember his birthday and he doesn’t mind it at all. It’s okay if you’re happy. He thinks you only wanted to eat out because your son kept saying that he wants to. Suddenly his work piles up and he knows he will be late. He texts you. You’re okay with it. It’s even better for you since preparing something in collaboration with children can be so hard sometimes even though they are old enough to understand most of the things.

~~~~

Hongjoong leaves work at 10 pm tonight. He knows he’s really late. He takes his phone from his pocket to call you. At that moment, he sees 25 calls from you and 30 from your mom, His phone was in silent mode again. But why did your mom call him that many times? That’s not normal, he thinks. He needs to call you back as soon as possible, you must be very mad at him by now. You always say you hate it when he’s out of reach when you need him. You once called him that many times from your and your mom’s phones so he thinks you did it again just to prove your point. But something, something inside him tells him that this time it’s different. So he calls you right away but your phone is off. So he calls your mom.

~~~~

Hongjoong was early to think that he saw the worst days. Today is the worst he can ever think of. He’s driving to the hospital way above the speed limit. Cold sweats dripping from his forehead. Your mom told him you got into a car accident and all three of you are in critical condition. He prays to all the gods that you all be safe. But something, something still tells him this time it’s different.

~~~~

He’s at the hospital. He’s on the floor, he’s on his knees. He wants it all to be a huge nightmare. He wants it all to be a lie. His blood runs cold after seeing all of your dead bodies. He doesn’t wanna believe it. He wants to hear your voice once again. He wants to see you smile once again. He wants his children to hug him one more time. He hears your mom’s screaming instead. Does it really ease the pain? He feels thousands of knives cutting through his skin. He feels it in his bones. He is silent. He can’t even shed a tear because it’s all a lie, right? He doesn’t believe any of it. He thinks you’ll come and hug him. And your scent will surround him. He thinks everything will be alright if you hug him right now. He looks at your dead body one more time. He looks at his children’s small, dead bodies. How can it be? It was this morning, you kissed him, told him you love him, your children talked about their schools while having breakfast and kissed him goodbye before they leave for school? How could it be? Doctors must’ve made a mistake. They must’ve confused you all with some other family. He feels bad for that family, since the bodies don’t belong to his family, right?

~~~~

He’s at the cemetery. Even after two years, he still waits for you to come and hug him. He still thinks you’ll kiss him before going to work. He still denies this twist of fate. But nothing helps now. You’re gone.

————————

Masterlist

[immoralrpg-blog]

Congratulations, ANA, you have been accepted for the role of LILY EVANS, with the faceclaim of LUCA HOLLESTELLE. Your portrayal of Lily is whimsical and altruistic and not without her flaws, which helps her to stand out as a three dimensional character. You understood the importance of seeing that Lily isn’t as perfect as her sister believes, and her struggles with her own sense of morality make for an interesting arch. Nicely done! Please head along to the CHECKLIST for your next steps.

IC

CHARACTER NAME:

lily marie evans, although her mother was incredibly keen on naming her lily kathleen, which her father wasn’t particularly happy about (as he’d had a neighbour called kathleen growing up, who wasn’t a very nice woman). after a lot of arguing, they settled on marie, as it was sweet and simple like their oldest daughter’s name: petunia jane.

lily \ lil·y \ as a girl’s name is pronounced li-lee. of old english origins, it was taken from the name of the plant having delicate, trumpet-shaped flowers regarded as a symbol of purity and perfection. while lily is most definitely a firecracker and won’t take no for an answer, i think her first name mirrors the hidden parts of her most people don’t see — there’s a childish innocence inside her, a purity that has yet to die. even as the war progresses and she sees more and more horrible things, lily still believes in the kindness and good in people; no matter how hard it is slowly becoming.

marie \ ma·rie \ as a girl’s name is pronounced mah-ree. of hebrew origin, it is a name of debated meaning. many believe it to mean “sea of bitterness” or “sea of sorrow.” however, some sources cite the alternative definitions of “rebellion,” “wished-for child,” and “mistress or lady of the sea.” the name is born in the bible by the mother of jesus, the son of god. as cliché as this might seem, i think that the fact that lily gave birth to harry is a good allusion to mary, mother of god — the woman who gave life to the savior. not to mention that marie has a sweetness to it that goes perfectly with the name lily — it’s delicate and simple, fitting my version of the character like a glove.

GENDER & PRONOUNS:

cisgender, she / her / hers.

FACECLAIM:

luca hollestelle

katie stevens

eleanor tomlinson

BIOGRAPHY:

born in the beginning of 1960, lily was welcomed into an average muggle family. the girl grew up alongside her big sister, petunia, her role-model and best friend, for the girls were truly inseparable — always walking hand-in-hand and laughing at jokes that violet, a primary school teacher, and harry, a writer, were not allowed to understand.there was never a flower without the other, they were merely an extension of the other, the year of difference they had from each other meant nothing. petunia and lily were two of a kind and they loved it.

enrolled at the school where her mother worked, lily’s life was a bed of roses — no worries or too much responsibility weighing the child down except for what she was going to play the following morning; a few worksheets worth of homework being the only thing that turned sunny days slightly grey. it was not until lily was nine years old that she learnt that, perhaps, her life was not as average as it appeared. ever since she could remember, she had done things that most children couldn’t but she hadn’t paid much attention to it — she couldn’t do a handstand like a girl in her grade, so why should she worry that other little girls did not know how to change the colour of flower petals? a dreamer, she never once questioned her abilities, often being too distracted to even bother to notice them: she’d always been different and being so didn’t scare her – lily was who she was and as long as she wasn’t deprived of her free afternoons, what was the problem is she could float right off her swing? it didn’t matter. until one day, as she was playing alone, changing a flower’s appearance, lily met a black-haired boy named severus who told her that she was a witch; that the things she could do were not simply skills — they were magic.

as any other little girl, she was ecstatic. magic. she had always believed in fairies and spells, in the tales her gran had told her about before she merrily drifted off to sleep, but being a witch had not once been something the redhead had considered and yet it made sense. severus fascinated her, taught her about a world she would someday be a part of, became a shoulder she could lean on and a friend she adored – petunia was pushed into the background, somewhat forgotten amongst afternoons of listening to the snape boy talk about spells, charms and potions, of castles and villages filled with wizards. it wasn’t her intention, lily never wanted to push her sister away, and when tuney began to grow cold and cruel, bitter even, the ginger didn’t understand nor accept her actions. a stubborn person by nature, lily too began to treat her sister as she was treated and all hell broke loose in the evans household.

the red-haired girl received her hogwarts acceptance letter mere months before her twelfth birthday and she was as excited to learn more about magic as she was to leave home — wanting to get away from tuney and her unjustified hatred. in her young mind, lily couldn’t possibly understand why her sister had so quickly grown to despise her and, stubborn as usual, she couldn’t bring herself to even ask why. so, come september 1st, the young miss evans was sorted into the house of one godric gryffindor and she soon forgot all about how great severus said that slytherin was.

in gryffindor, the girl felt at home; like she belonged but even though she made plenty of good friends, never once did she ignore sev in front of them — he knew her like no one else did. she was always loyal to the core, never wavering, never giving up, even when severus began getting involved with people she knew were no good, even when his “friends” whispered ‘mudblood’ as she walked by, it didn’t matter because it wasn’t sev – sure, she would have loved it if he hadn’t joined those aspiring death eaters, but she ignored the truth. it was unthinkable for her best friend to be one of them, to want to join voldemort in his fight for blood purity. it was hard for lily not to see the best in everyone. and that was her mistake.

fifth year proved to be a big one for the ginger. she was made prefect, something that made her as proud as anyone can be – she, a muggleborn, was granted such an honour, one she’d secretly wished for but never really voice out loud. a person fond of fairness and justice, nothing made lily happier than to be able to do what she believes is right: those who deserved to be punished, the people who insulted her under their breaths when she walked by and tormented first years, mere babies compared to their abusers, were soon given what they deserved; the people who helped the poor, scared children and respected the rules were rewarded, even if only with a warm smile and a nice conversation. order was always something the witch found most important and now she could make sure it was a constant in the halls of hogwarts. of course, she too enjoyed the power that came with it, the feeling that she was important, that she mattered. it helped her push away the emptiness that rolled over her unexpectedly— that feeling that made it hard to get up in the morning, the utter struggle that her days were more often than not. it kept her at bay, above water. it helped.

everything changed, however, when called lily a “mudblood”; showing the redhead just how much he’d changed since they were nine years old, how lost his soul had become. but more than that, it finally cracked the dam that had kept her controlled— suddenly, she was forced to hide behind a mask of perfection she couldn’t keep up straight anymore ; forced to pretend that she was fine, that she was still lily, when truly she felt like a shadow. her chest was numb, her thoughts slow and taunting, her body so heavy she wanted to cry at the sheer idea of crumbling under it. all that she’d worked for, all that she’d done suddenly was so meaningless when compared to the low buzz of the thoughts that consumed her— she was a shell, barely functioning behind closed doors when she allowed herself to feel the intensity of her new state of being.

the summer, more than anything, is bound to serve as a distraction from the loneliness that this year brought her, from the cold that’s lodged deep inside her bones. she’s trying to survive, trying not to crack, but with every day it gets harder to hide. to pretend. to smile. but she’ll do it, because lily evans does what needs to be done and she has no other choice.

QUESTIONAIRE

describe your secret in your own way.

“ it’s… ”  a moment of pause, a wrinkle of brows and forehead. a breath.  " it’s like… floating. you never really fall, you don’t do anything— you just float through every moment, every second of your day. nothing you do breaks your fall, nothing pushes you closer to the bottom ‘cause there’s no bottom. you kind'a wish there was, y'know? “  there was an empty, humourless chuckle that echoed in the room ; lily’s hands moved to tug at her sleeves in a poorly concealed attempt to calm her nerves.  ” anything’s better than feeling like you’re floating through life. and yeah, you could hold onto someone but what if you end up draggin’ them down with you? it’s scary, so you don’t. you… float some more, until you can find a way to crash. the courage to crash, more like it. “  her shoulders shake as if she was trying to push the thoughts away, but her eyes remain solemn— dark against pale skin.  ” and the really fucked up part is that when you float? you have a lot of time to think. and that’s what kills you. “

expand on one ( or more ) of your connections. tell us about them. your relationship with them.

” look, things with severus are complicated, yeah? “  the sigh that pushes past her throat is almost silent, soft in nature as if she’s done so often enough for sighs to hold no meaning.  ” he’s a what if. lots of things are, i guess— you wonder what you could have done differently, what you could have changed if you’d been better, more supportive… if you could have changed anything at all. and you’ll never know, which makes what ifs the fucked up part of life— you’ll wonder until you can remember what happened. “  there’s a moment of quiet, as if the girl was bracing herself for something. wetting her lips, her grip on her sweater sleeves didn’t waver even as her voice did.  ” i miss him. no—no, i miss what he means. that kind'a makes it worse, not missing him for himself. i miss what we used to be, i miss the way he made me feel— the way i was when we were kids. horrible, innit? i miss the lily that i was when things were okay. “

pick one word to describe yourself. why that word?

” brave. “  this time, the smile that tugs at the corners of pink lips is genuine and so is the spark in green eyes. it’s odd and it shouldn’t be there, not after the subjects you discussed— she knows that you know that it’s an abnormality. but it’s real.  ” maybe 'cause i’m supposed to be, maybe 'cause i want to be. it’s one of those things— if you say it out loud often enough you might just make it happen. i might not be brave, i might not even know what being brave actually is but… i want to be it. weird, innit? “  her head shakes and a hand brushes red locks aside— the soft smile still sitting on her face.  ” i guess brave just beats the alternative. who wants to think of themselves as weak? “