#the reason i learnt how to play the flute in the first place

[chickencat8]

ive been so horribly busy and am tryin to get back into the swang of thangs and resume all my hobbies and be an approximation of a human again, that being said

OKAMI SEQUEL LETS FUKKIN GOOOOOOOOOOOO

[im-robins-bitch]

Hey can you write robin x reader where reader is in the news paper team with nancy. And robin is always coming in and skipping classes to see reader. One day she randomly asks to join ( not just for the reader definitely not) and nancy ( readers best friend) cant stand the awkward flirting and obliviousness so she partnered them up for a project but robin as no clue what shes doing! Thanks

Love in print (r.b x fem! reader)

Or, Robin is smitten with you after you interview her for the newspaper club and finds herself writing an advice collum in order to spend more time with you. Thank you for the request, I tweaked it a little I hope that's ok. (4.7k)

(Warnings, making out, mentions of homophobia)

Robin isn’t sure how exactly she found herself in this position. One minute she was simply a band geek who minded her own business, now she was running an advice collum for the school newspaper. 

How she, of all people, was giving the school population advice, dating and otherwise, was beyond her. When Nancy had first given her the job it had been for one reason and one reason only, you. As soon as you had interviewed her for the band, she had been completely smitten. 

It was your first time interviewing and it was clear you were wrung out with nerves. Your attempt at a smile was so sweet, your pen tapping back and forth against your notebook with ferocity. 

 Your anxiety fueled her own and she began rambling on and on every time you asked a question until you were relaxing enough to genuinely enjoy what she was talking about. 

“Tutankhamun's trumpets are the oldest working trumpets in the world though! They were buried for over 3,000 years and they still worked, isn’t that really cool, but then..” She noticed you had stopped writing a long time ago, looking at her instead of the notebook you had been furiously scribbling in earlier to keep up with her rambling. 

She knew she talked far too much, especially when she was nervous. She had long lost count of all the times she had been told to be quiet. If there was an awkward silence it was like her mouth had a mind of its own, it just wouldn’t stop running. Anything to fill the quiet so she wouldn’t have to worry about why it was silent in the first place. 

“Sorry, I, I should probably shut up, you came to talk to the rest of the band too” Robin murmured.

You shook your head, a genuine smile on your face instead of the nervous one from earlier. “I came to talk to you,” You insisted, “then what happened to the trumpets?” 

It took Robin a second to reboot. Your genuine interest in what she was talking about was such a rarity that it made her cheeks flame. Usually when she was in this deep people stopped listening, just waiting until she was finished. 

“During the rehearsal for a radio show where they were going to play the trumpets, the silver one broke!”

“What no way! I couldn’t even imagine what I would do if i broke a 3,000-year-old artefact” You giggled, eyes crinkling. “Did they have to cancel the broadcast then?”

Robin shook her head, “They still managed to do it, can you imagine listening to the trumpets over the radio that Egyptians had listened to all those years ago?” 

“That must have been really cool,” You say emphatically, tucking your pen behind your ear. “You must be really passionate about the trumpet to know all these facts,”

“Oh…Well, I-” Robin stuttered, caught off guard by this sudden shift in conversation. She could recite facts and stories till the cows came home, but talking about herself was another matter. “I think it’s just natural you pick it up,” Did you think it was weird how much she knew about the trumpet, did you think she was some trumpet freak that slept with it every night? 

You shook your head, “You’re not giving yourself enough credit” You insisted “You’re just really smart, I was talking to the flute players and I think I learnt more prepping in the library to talk to you guys than I did from talking to them, you’re the best interview I’ve done by far, it was actually so interesting talking to you I kept forgetting to take notes” You admitted, shifting from one foot to another nervously. 

For once Robin was stunned to silence, realising she wasn’t going to talk anymore you started again. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, they’re totally your friends and I just bad-mouthed them, I’m so sorry, it's just-”

“It’s not that I just- people don’t normally…I’m not used to compliments” from someone so cute.

“Oh,” 

Now you must think she has no friends and no confidence, which she supposes isn’t exactly untrue. 

“Well you should get used to them Robin Buckley, you’re gonna be going places, I can just tell” You grinned, bouncing on your feet again. Your smile must be infectious because Robin smiled right back, cheeks turning rosy. 

“You think so?” Robin asked casually. Like that isn’t someone she’d always dreamed of being told, like you haven’t just given her enough material here that she’s going to spend the rest of her life daydreaming about this moment. 

“I know so” 

It was then that you cemented yourself as the girl that appears in every one of her dreams and fantasies, She knows she’s going to talk to Steve about you until he’s sick of hearing your name. She’s going to look for you every time she’s in the halls in hopes of seeing your nervous feet bouncing against the linoleum. 

It was all a haze as you explained that you’ll be back to take some photos on Friday because since Johnathan left there's only one camera and someone else had stolen it, even though you booked it out. The adorable furrow of your brow is saved in her memory bank for her late-night daydreams. 

-

By the time Robin see’s you again she’s learned everything she can about you from Nancy.

You hadn’t had a boyfriend since middle school and insisted that he didn’t count, Andy asked you on a date last year and you rejected him along with seemingly anyone else who tried to ask you out. Nancy was surprisingly loose with the information she shared, offering up far more than Robin had even dared to ask about. 

Even though she had gone through a million possible talking points all day, as soon as she saw you, one foot tapping on the floor it all flew right out the window. The camera was looped around your neck and you were fiddling with the buttons, scowling at it in confusion. 

“Hey,” Robin greeted, trying to be as casual as possible as she placed her trumpet case on the table and started to put it together. 

“Hi” You mumbled, still staring daggers into the camera, “Sorry, I just,” You pressed the buttons a couple of times, “The settings have all been messed up and…I’m so hopeless at this” You murmured, “I asked Johnathon for advice on the phone last night, but it was so much easier when he was here, I have like no idea what I’m doing, god I’m sorry I shouldn’t be complaining.”

“No, it’s ok, I don’t mind, maybe-”

She flinches as you press a button accidentally and she’s blinded by the flash. “Shit, I’m so sorry, are you ok?” You say abandoning the camera and letting it hang from your neck. “Sorry, I’m not normally so… it’s just my first time being in charge of a whole section, it feels like so much pressure. I really don’t want to let Nancy down” 

Robin rubs her eyes, trying to reassure you while acting like there aren’t spots appearing in her vision. “I don’t think there's much chance of that, she’s been telling me how great you are all day,”

“Really?” 

“Yeah, plus you’re really good at interviewing, I mean, I’ve never been interviewed before, but you made me feel really well interviewed. I mean, just that it was super thorough, but not like an interrogation, trust me I’ve been through one of those and it was awful,” Robin says inching closer and closer. Her mouth once again moved without thinking. 

“You’ve been interrogated?” You questioned, finally smiling as you push some hair from your face. “I didn’t realise you were such a trouble maker”

“Oh no, I was innocent,” Robin quickly corrects, “Falsely imprisoned” 

“Wow, I didn’t think you could beat your Egyptian trumpet story, but this sounds like it just might.”

Robin blushes, she isn’t sure if you’re making fun of her at first, but the warmth in your eyes makes her think it's the opposite. Still, she knows she can’t actually tell you that story, so she tries to move on. “I could have a look at the camera if you want, my mum has one just like it.” 

“If you don’t mind,” 

“I don’t mind at all,” Robin grins, moving beside you as you hold out the camera. She has to look over your shoulder, chin slightly brushing against your cheek. She can feel the heat radiating from you, while she fixes the settings for you. 

This was probably going to be the last time she would talk to you, once this issue was finished you would go your way and she would go hers. Maybe she could make up some reason to visit Nancy in the club room, see you in passing in the halls. 

Only she wants to watch as your nervous smile melts away to a real one, just because of her. She wants to place her hand in yours, feel your palm pressing into her own while you listen to her stories and offer your own up as well. 

She takes her time fiddling with the buttons, it didn’t really need much doing anyway, but she isn’t going to let you know that. 

She just wishes she had more courage, or that she didn’t have to hide her affection for girls and she could just be herself. Without worrying that asking out the wrong person could ruin her life or at least make her need to move three towns over. 

Once she’s finally done she settles the camera down in your hand, ignoring the way you lean away from her touch once she’s finished. “Thank you,” You say, moving your hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, even though it’s already tucked away. 

“No problem, I’ve wanted to get more into photography anyway” It’s a complete lie. She isn’t even sure why she says it. She just hopes it will make you stop curling in on yourself, wilting right in front of her eyes from embarrassment. 

“Oh really?” You question, brightening up again. “You could always use our darkroom if you need to. We could do with an extra pair of hands if you know anything about developing photos?”

Robin had absolutely no idea how to develop photos in a darkroom. “I would love that!” 

While Robin didn’t know much at all about photography, she was going to become an expert if it meant she could spend time with you. 

“Great! They’ll love some extra help, I was helping out last week but I tripped over a chair and spilt the developer everywhere, now it’s like every time I need to develop photos no one else is available to help” You laughed. 

“Well, I’ll always help!” Robin grinned, loving the way you started to fiddle with your fingers. It was nice to make someone flustered for a change. 

She had skipped gym class with a poorly forged note about her period and the male gym teacher immedietly let her go to study hall. Instead she found herself hoping you wanted to see her.

It took her a minute of pacing outside the door to pluck up the courage to walk through the door, a little worried she might immediately be kicked out. 

Your smile when she came through the door threatened to spilt your face in half. “You really came!” You exclaimed, abandoning what you were doing and tucking your pen behind your ear. You immediately stand up from the desk you were typing at, Nancy watching with amusement. 

It was worth it, it was definitely worth it she thought. Even if she died in the dark room from the fumes she was going to die happy. Never had she been greeted with such excitement. 

Nancy smiled knowingly from her place next to you, looking up from what she was doing to raise an eyebrow at Robin, “I didn’t realise you were interested in photography,”

“It’s a recent interest” Robin defended. 

“Nance” You scorned, at the same time “Please don’t,” 

The two of you looked at each other, both thinking Nancy was referring to you. You picked at your nails as Robin ruffled at her own hair. 

“You should get a hurry on if you wanna finish before next period,” Nancy warns, squeezing your wrist in reassurance as you sway on your feet next to her. 

Robin glares at the touch, jealous even though she knows she had no right. Especially so when Nancy is very much dating Jonathan. It’s stupid when she knows you so little, she supposes you are on her mind so much it feels like you’re closer than you actually are.

“Right, I’ll lead the way” You offer. Your arm leaves Nancy’s hold and your hand presses gently against Robin's arm instead.  She wishes she had gone for a short sleeve shirt today so she could feel your hand against her skin. She settles for the warmth seeping from your palm instead. She mourns the loss when you let go. 

You lead her to the small darkroom, informing her that it will just be the two of you. Her chest warms and so do her cheeks.

You spend an hour in the dark room, giggling together over the chemicals. She taught you how to develop the photos step by step, pretending she hadn’t just absorbed all the information she was telling you hours prior. 

Even using her hands at one point to guide your own. It was a move Steve had told her to use during their last shift, she swore it was stupid and she wasn’t going to do it. Yet here she was, rings cold against your own skin as she helped you shake the photo just right to dry it off a little before hanging it up. 

Once you had finished the few photos that needed doing for the day, you both started packing up. Moving at a much slower pace than when you had been setting up the equipment. 

Your hand brushes against hers as you both grab for the same pair of tongs and it makes you bump your hip into the table and the developer splashes over the sides of the tray. “Sorry…” You mumble, stepping away from her a little. 

She wasn’t sure if you were apologising for the contact or for spilling the developer. Either way, she wished you wouldn’t.

Robin found herself skipping gym so often that the coach was concerned about her iron levels. He even pulled her aside to offer to make an appointment with the school nurse for her.  The time spent with you in the darkroom was worth the embarrassment, especially that day. 

Robin was wearing a tinted chapstick she had bought specifically because you had been wearing it the week before. She hadn’t meant to buy it, but just before she could even think her hand grabbed it and added it to her basket. 

It made your lips look extra kissable, so she just wanted her lips to look the same. No ulterior motive whatsoever. 

Every time she used it, she would blush thinking of your lips, wondering if that’s how you would taste. She didn’t think anything could fluster her more until you noticed her putting it on.

“We have the same lip balm,” You stated, pointing to your lips, covered in the same sticky tint. She panicked, thinking you thought she was weird, trying to find some way to explain.  “I wouldn’t have minded sharing,” You say, grinning coyly. 

Her brain didn’t work for the entire rest of the day. Behind a timid exterior, you were such a minx. You were always complimenting her any chance you got, barely hiding a smirk at her red cheeks.

It was that day Nancy had approached her, arms crossed and leaning against the table. You had gone to interview Gareth about his local band. You had talked all about it to Robin, you had been Gareth’s lab partner every year since freshman and had a soft spot for him. That was all she heard before her mind drifted off, eyes focused on your lips and nothing else. 

Normally you talking about some guy would be enough to make her jealous, but she was still mushy-brained from earlier so she just nodded along to everything you said, missing her chance to offer to tag along. 

“We both know you’re not interested in photography, Buckley” Nancy had begun, cutting Robin off before she could even come up with some excuse. “If you’re gonna spend all your time here anyway, might as well do something useful”

So that was how Robin ended up in charge of an advice collum she had no interest in. Nancy told her it would improve the readership to get more of the student body involved, but Robin wasn’t convinced. 

Until you had eagerly nodded along, praising Nancy for such a good idea when you came back from your interview. 

Every time Robin tried to get out of it she was re-persuaded. 

“I’m awful at giving advice” Robin reasoned. 

“You helped me” You encouraged. Smiling at her with teeth as you moved some of your papers and pens away from your cluttered desk, “I don’t think I could even cope without you anymore,” 

“But..” Robin thought of the small darkroom, the enclosed space leaving no room for anyone other than you and her. She could talk to you in private, without needing to worry about other people. 

The advice collum had no photographs, she would have no reason at all to go in there anymore. What if you didn’t even get to spend time together at all any more, she would have to actually write a whole advice section. It didn’t leave much time for staring at your face.

“And you can set up right next to me, it gets pretty lonely writing all by yourself, so we can keep each other company” 

All her arguments died on her tongue as she realised what you were doing. Tidying things away and dragging a chair over, so that she could sit right next to you.

She was done for, today was far too much for her to deal with. 

Her brain, which had been re-solidifying, abandoned her once again. All she could think of was you. Your sweet smiles, the pen you always tucked behind your ear and then would endearingly forget was there, your shaky hands and jumpy legs. 

Even now, despite your confident facade, she could see the nerves in your foot as you tapped it against the floor. You gazed up at her, hoping you hadn’t overstepped by assigning her a place right next to your own. 

“That sounds perfect” 

So here she was, tapping away on an old typewriter to try and help a mystery freshman whose fiery girlfriend just wouldn’t stop dumping him. 

You sat next to her, shoulder brushing her own. No longer so shy with touch, you were often glued to her side. You always sat next to her, writing your articles together. Giving each other advice and spell-checking for each other. 

She wished she had an advice collum she could write to. 

One day, when she was definitely not trying to impress you by speaking French, ( it totally came up naturally she swears) you look as lovesick as her. Only it’s difficult for her to actually talk to you about it, one wrong move and she could either have a girlfriend or be a bigger social pariah than Eddie Munson. 

She’s almost at breaking point today, you’re playing with her rings. She had abandoned them on the table. 

They had been irritating her, rubbing against her skin as she tried to type as fast as she could. You had taken that as an opportunity to investigate, scrutinising each one before sliding them on your fingers. You had finished writing a little while ago but were still waiting for her. 

You’ve put another one of her rings on your finger, pushing it up and down and up again, twisting it back and forth. “These are really pretty Rob” You compliment, eyes not leaving your hands, twisting them back and forth in the light. 

Rob. A little nickname you had recently started using that sent butterflies to her stomach. 

“Thanks,” She says, her rhythmic typing stuttering for a second. Did you have any idea what you did to her? How a simple compliment from you made her heart skyrocket. She quickly shakes off the thought, typing even faster so she can get on to the final bit of advice for this week. 

She was hoping to finish early so she could somehow segway into going to get some food together. Only she had so many people asking for help this week, Valentine's Day was quickly approaching, so it was taking even longer than usual. 

Finally finished with her advice for Basketball Boy, so Robin could finally move on to the last bit of advice. 

She looks down at the last bit of paper, you had picked out for her this week, insisting you didn’t have much to do for your article this time and wanting to save her the trouble. 

She sighs, seeing another person asking for dating advice. This one is written in a glittering gel pen, they were pretty popular right now, especially the kind that smells like fruits. 

She had seen you using one last week, and you had excitedly held it out to her asking her to smell it. She nodded along saying it smelt nice, but really all she could smell was your perfume and it had made her light-headed. 

Shaking herself out of her daydreams, she reads over the flowery script. 

Dear R, 

There’s a girl in my club and she’s all i can think about, I took on a role in my club just to talk to her, back when she didn’t even know I existed. Now we’re friends and I’m terrified of ruining it, please help me, how do I tell her I like her without telling her I like her? 

Robin reads over the submission again and again. It’s almost like she wrote it herself. 

You rest your head onto Robin’s shoulder, cheek pressing against the sleeve of her shirt. She can feel the warmth of your skin seeping through the fabric. You’re always so warm and Robin is obsessed with it. 

January is so cold, she wishes she could bury herself in between your legs, face pressed into your stomach. At least she wants to hold your hand, in fact, she’s pretty sure you’d let her. Friends, do that all the time right? Maybe if she held Nancy's hand first to set a precedence then it wouldn’t need to mean any-

“So…” You mumble, fiddling with her rings again, which are still on your fingers. “What do you think?”

Robin ponders, how could she give this person advice when she was going through the exact same thing and was clueless. “I’m not sure, if he likes her so much then he should just tell her, clearly he never wanted to just be friends”

“Do you think it’s creepy?”

“Do you?” She stutters, of all the weird submission’s you’ve read together, how can the one you think is strange be the one closest to her own situation? 

You slump down into your seat and Robin immediately mourns the loss of your touch. “I just…well, the girl has no idea that they’re friends because…you know.”

“I think he should tell her” Robin decides, just because she has to suffer her crushes in silence, doesn’t mean everyone should. “Even if she doesn’t like him, they can still be friends. Look at Steve and me,”

“What if they couldn’t, what if telling them would ruin everything” 

“What’s the worst that could happen to him,” Robin reasons, “A bit of embarrassment, maybe he would lose a friend, I think he has more to gain than he has to lose.” 

You’re silent for a moment, and then you turn to Robin in your chair. You’ve dumped Robin’s rings and started chipping at your nail polish. A habit that you keep saying you’re going to break, but never do. 

“You’re assuming it’s a guy”

“Huh”

“You’re assuming it’s a guy, but look at the writing, look at the glitter gel pen.”  

Robin looks down, her thumb rubbing against the sparkly gel pen, the looped cursive is very feminine, but Robin can’t even believe it. Could it really be, could there really be another person like her? 

She’s speechless as she takes in the possibility, and then she reads over the letter again. 

Robins's heart pounds, she knows she shouldn’t get her hopes up, but it’s already too late. You have this kind of gel pen, even if half the year does too, you have recently made a new friend and you met because of your club. Surely it isn’t completely out of the realm of possibility that it might have been you. 

Did you start writing for the entertainment section just to talk to her? 

“I think she should tell her,” 

“You…You do” You stumble, eyes staring into hers, searching for something. 

Robin is pretty sure if you don’t confess to her within the next 30 seconds she going to physically deflate like a balloon. Despite herself, her hopes are sky high. She nods her head eagerly, sure if she speaks her voice will betray her by coming out squeaky. 

She’s already biting back her grin before you even start to speak.

“Robs” You start, you sound so quiet and she leans forward in her chair. Both to hear you better and to hopefully give you easier access to her lips. “I…Have you ever read anything by Sappho?”

The breath Robin was holding in came out in a rough exhale. This must be it, it has got to be her. Her legs bounce from trying to hold herself back from throwing herself into your embrace and squealing at the top of her lungs. 

She nodded her head again and your eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas, hands darting out to cup her cheeks, bringing more warmth to her heated skin. 

“I like you,” She can feel your nerves as your hands shake against her cheeks. 

She can’t really believe it. Any of it. 

She lurches forward so fast that she almost sends her chair flying. Despite her lack of grace, her kiss is tender. Her hands dwarf your own as she tries to soothe you and your shuddering fingers.

You have the tinted lip balm on today and she greedily hopes it stains her own lips so she has a visual reminder of this moment. She swears she’ll never wipe her lips, eat, drink or do anything that could remove the stain from her lips, even if she dies of dehydration. 

Her plan is quickly ruined when you're brought out of your stupor, moving forward with more ferocity than she would ever expect. One hand escapes her hold and clutches the back of her neck, drawing her and her rolling chair forward. You lick greedily at her bottom lip, thighs caging in one of her legs. 

Her lips part in shock, your innocent kiss turning into something more. You clutch onto her like you’re terrified of her slipping away. She returns your kiss, one hand squeezing your own, the other moving to cup your cheek. 

She brushes her thumb against the apple of your cheek, relishing the soft gasp it gets out of you. 

When you part, your eyes flick to hers before quickly looking away. Your shyness returns and it's just as endearing as it was the first time she met you. Despite your embarrassment, you curl one arm around her waist, bringing her as close as you can until your chairs touch.

“I really like you,” You say, timidly, leaving no room for argument. 

Robin smiles so hard her cheeks hurt, her brain practically a puddle at her feet. 

Maybe Robin was better at giving advice than she thought.

Masterlist

[ambiguouspuzuma]

Bar one

Lani had a way with words. It had always been a gift; and, like many who were gifted great fortunes, not having earnt them or learnt their value, she'd soon spent it unwisely. She squandered her inheritance on wine, women and song - after discovering she had a gift with all of those as well - and found herself left all the poorer for it.

She was a travelling musician; the latter by choice, the former by those of other people. It wasn't that her music was bad, but that it was hypnotic. Seductive. Lani knew how to meld words into a continuous stream, a love potion more potent than any of the drinks on offer. Under her influence, patrons started to make... mistakes. Her music warmed their blood; drew secret feelings from their hearts.

They said the wrong thing, to the wrong person.

Sometimes, the other person said it back.

Then, of course, they blamed it on the boogie.

Eventually, each venue's owners had enough of the disruption. Sometimes it was even the customers - Lani had been chased from many a watering hole by the rutting antelopes who called it home. She was seen as dangerous, subversive, casting her dark magic over their naturally innocent youth. She learnt that bard and barred were homophones - as were band and banned. Music was often the scapegoat for a moral panic. When the play's characters misbehaved, people first turned to blame the score.

In Lani's case, they weren't actually wrong. She just didn't think it was a bad thing, to help people to loosen up. It had certainly served her perfectly well. Her songs had led unlikely couples to the dance, linking up unfancied pairs - and, come the end of the night, she'd almost always had a partner of her own. There had always been perks of the job. It was just a shame that there also seemed to be punishments.

She became a perpetual exile, hounded from one empire after the last, until she finally saved the funds to start a tavern of her own. A place where love could flow as freely as the wine, and no strong feeling went supressed. After all, she thought, wasn't that why people came to places like this? To release their inhibitions? Her music could help with that, just as much as the alcohol could. It wasn't her fault if people couldn't handle their song.

Lani had little experience setting up bars, and so she played to her other, more seductive strengths. Not in sense of the tacky taverns whose sticky floors she'd sometimes walked - raucous signs in the toilets, cocktails with outrageous names - but by placing her music at the heart of all she served. She clinked bottles and let the wind play over their lips, mixed strong spirits in slender flutes, a hundred jaunty bars distilled down into one. Customers would taste her notes in a glass of wine, or feel her liquored lyrics burning in their chest. Her drinks had innocuous names, but they were served with a double measure of entendre, and a twist of innuendo on the side.

She had expected the place to soon be crawling with hedonists, carousing and making merry, inn keeping with her usual experience - not actually Lani's scene of choice, although it was the one which she always seemed to paint. But it seemed that her stigma flowed both ways. The local revellers were tired of her lute pulling their strings, and loathe to challenge her on home turf; they didn't want to visit her dive of inequity, because of the inequal playing field it brought. The others preferred to court the old-fashioned way, and Lani's court had only ever known one queen.

Here, she only had one customer.

"Thank you for coming back," she felt the need to say. It would have been painful, standing before an empty bar. At least the woman gave her a reason to be here - and, with the occasional order, something to do.

Wine and song had failed to bring her purpose, but women had never let her down.

"I like it here," the woman said. Tilly. She was small, slender, softly-spoken. Mousy in both hair and disposition. "It's quiet."

"Top up?"

It was certainly a change of pace, from headlong to standing still. Lani had always lived her life like a wildfire in the wind: drifting aimlessly between towns, playing for a few nights before moving on, never looking back at the anger in her wake. But now her sails had fallen slack, she was learning what safe harbour might just look like. A tavern of her own design, her instruments hanging from the walls, and their legacy continuing in the drinks she served herself. Tilly made up the smallest possible clientele, but that was okay for now. Lani had set the bar low.

She got the impression that Tilly was here seeking safe harbour of her own. She'd come to escape the noise of all those other taverns, just as Lani had been barred from adding to it. It seemed that one woman's exile was another's refuge; one's solitary confinement was another's peace and quiet. They formed an odd pair, but Lani was grateful not to be left completely alone - just as Tilly seemed to be glad that she nearly was, grateful for the loneliness her seductive talents had ultimately brought. Not that they seemed to work on her.

"I should warn you," Lani had said, handing over the first drink she'd ever poured for someone else. "I brew sleazily."

Tilly had offered her payment with a small, sad smile. "Me too," she'd said.

"No, I meant..." Lani had been lost in the face of her innocence. She was rarely tongue tied - at least, not with her own - but there was something in those gentle brown eyes which had stopped her in her tracks. "It's okay. Just take it easy."

Tilly had taken a sip, then another, whilst Lani watched with caution for any sign of change. Had she made the cocktail too strong? Too weak? It was a difficult thing to measure on herself. Tilly blushed away at her gaze, and looked around the bar-room instead, noting the instruments with interest. It may have been the alcohol, but the drink did seem to bring some confidence in her speech.

"Do you play?" she asked, nodding to the lute upon the nearest wall. Lani nodded in return. "Would you mind?"

Lani was more than happy to oblige her. There was little else for her to do, other than hover awkwardly behind the bar, trying to make inoffensive conversation. She was used to having something to do with her hands and mouth in these kinds of contexts, one way or another. "Sorry, I know it's a bit dead in here."

"Oh no, that's exactly why I like it. I don't think peace is death, do you? Life may bring noise and chaos, it's true, but it's the quiet that births it first at all. It's the space in which delicate things can grow, newborn butterflies and saplings still emerging from their husks, without the risk of being immediately crushed underfoot. I think the silence is golden. I'd just also like to hear you."

One drink should have been enough to render men foolish, but Tilly seemed only slightly more inclined to speak. Lani had a theory about that. Some people seemed to have a surfeit of inhibition, and took a medicinal dram or two to reach what others might regard as sober. Lani had spent a life surrounded by drunks, whether lost on alcohol or music, lust or something else, so her judgement might have been impaired - but she thought that Tilly might have been the soberest woman that she'd ever met.

She started off gentle, finding the rhythms of the strings, but soon lost herself in the currents of the music once again. All of the tender bars she'd made her own, before she'd chosen bartending instead. She kept one eye on her one-woman-clientele turned one-woman-audience, but the tune seemed no more potent than the drink; she caught Tilly nodding along at parts, but it was far from the cobra-charming display she was used to.

"That was lovely," she said at the end of the song. "Thank you for treating me."

"And... it didn't affect you at all?" Lani asked.

"As I said, I enjoyed it. Music often helps me to relax. Especially together with a good drink."

"Oh." Lani said, taken aback. A compliment on both her music and her drinks. "Well, thank you twice."

Her caution waved away, she continued to play. Tilly might be her smallest ever audience, but she was the first who seemed to actually listen to her songs, the love and craft that went into them, rather than seeking love out for themselves. She only wanted comfort, and that brought Lani comfort in turn. Oddly enough, the mere fact of Tilly's company was having a similar effect on her. Lani was used to the heat of the arena, each bar a hotbed of competition and attraction, and it was refreshing to know that she wasn't here for either. It made her feel safe.

She found herself loosening up - in a different way to ever before, a sense that wine and song and even other women had never been able to touch. It turned out that peace and quiet could draw out words as much as music could. Her inhibitions were gone, and she found herself saying the sort of thing that she could never usually say. Like describing exactly how that felt. "I find myself saying the sort of thing I could never normally say," she said.

"It's nice, isn't it?" Tilly said. "Feeling comfortable. Open. You can let your guard down."

"Do you find that yours is always up?"

She nodded. "That's why I try to avoid people, mostly. I can't react to things like they do. They always want something that I can't give them."

"You've never felt... like that, in a crowded place? With alcohol, and music like this?"

"Never." Perhaps Lani's theory was more true than she'd known. Tilly was always sober, regardless of the provocation. That was why she could bear to be here, when so many others had grown tired. "And you? You seem lonely here. Do you feel that kind of attraction?"

"I seem to always be amidst a crowd of it," Lani said. "Temporary fires, always winking in and out. It can be a lot, sometimes. But it's always been my life. It's difficult to imagine the alternative. Aren't you lonely?"

"Sometimes," Tilly admitted. "Aren't you?"

"Always," Lani realised. She might have brought about passion in others - even been the target of it, more often than not - but it had left her just as alone. In a sense, she had always been the bartender. She'd dance the dance she wanted to, but then her patrons would go home, and leave her to put things straight for their replacements. Her only taste of love had been fleeting, and there had always been reprisals in the end. Between the attraction and resentment, her profit might as well have netted out at nil.

"I suppose there's not much time to speak, when you're singing all night. Here I've been thinking that I struggle to be heard in a crowd, and extolling the blessings of silence, but it's the musician who's drowned out first of all."

"There's not much time to listen, either." Lani sat back. Tilly seemed to be her opposite in many ways, and yet their opposing edges might just fit. She was someone who could take what she had to give, and still see the person behind it. Someone who could give her what she'd always missed in turn. Silence, and sobriety; nothing that she had to offer, but also nothing anyone had offered her. "Go on, it's your turn to treat me next. Peace might be a haven, but only because it lets those delicate things thrive, and I want to watch the butterflies take flight. I'd like to hear your story, if you don't mind; you know, how a girl like you ends up in a place like this. I like hearing the sound of your voice."

[tangjiali-purpleyaohua]

He is so talented. He can play piano, guitar, and harmonica.

I really wonder how someone can play a lot of musical instruments. Meanwhile, I only can play violin. It's not like I've never tried to learn another instrument. I've tried to learn flute, melodica, guitar, cello, and viola back then. But it turns out that I'm a big failure.

My violin tutor made a joke for once since a guitar tutor gave up on me on trial class, "It's fine. Come back here, go play your mini guitar (violin). It's way cuter than that guitar. Plus, you have a bow as an accompany. Just play it and you will feel much better soon." I can't even fully grip the guitar neck because it's bigger than violin's neck. I can't even lift it with one hand and easily get sore because it's too heavy.

I gave up on flute and melodica. I mean, my lungs gave up on them. I get dizzy and look like an over cooked bun whenever I play them.

Viola is too heavy for my shoulder.

Cello is too heavy for me. I can't even hold the bow properly because it's heavier than violin's bow. I lost to count how many time I dropped the bow when I tried to learn it. The finger board is too long. The strings are thicker than violin's. The tutor made a face when I asked him, "Can I use a violin bow instead?" and then, "Can I use my violin instead?"

So, I think mami is really awesome! Of course, he is! He looks so cool when he plays musical instrument, especially piano. He really enjoys the music. Believe it or not, the main reason why we play music instrument is because we can enjoy our play/music. We don't play it to please other people in the first place. If it turns out that other people enjoy our play, then it's a bonus for us. We will love it when we can share our love of music through our play.

I hope that I can be like mami at one day!

Maybe I'll pick a guitar once again and then I'll try my best to learn it more seriously. I want to play Huanrao (环绕) at camp fire at one day! It's been my number one favourite song till this day! There's a sentimental reason for it. It's because the song reminds me of babi too! 🥰❤💙 When the love blooms beautifully at summer days~~~

Oh, I remember that mami plays Beethoven-Ode to the Joy from Symphony No. 9 with a harmonica! I wonder if he loves to listen classical music too. Now that I think of it, he must be. He learnt piano since he was a kid. He must have learnt classical music too!

I stand the right person! He's an awesome role model!

I love mami!

I love Zhang Zhehan (张哲瀚)!

It's 张哲瀚, not 张哲翰！

My Chinese is really bad, but I will never forget how to write his name (the correct hanzi!)

[mountswhore]

Hey girl, me again 🥺I’ve had this idea in my head for ages 🤔 based off the song ‘Polaroid’ by Liam Payne Mason Mount on holiday with the boys in Mykonos, him and the boys befriend a small group (reader and friends) bassically a holiday fling between reader and Mason but he never actually gets her name or anything just a few ‘Polaroid’ pictures of them both, few months later he’s been trying to find her but can’t and the lads convince him to post it on Instagram with the caption “Instagram do your thing” after a while he notices numerous different people (her friends) tagging the reader in it and turns out it’s her and sends her a message. Thankyou sweet cheeks 😎💙

aaahh bestie this is such a good idea

𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 — mason mount

summary: mason can’t find the girl he had a fling with last summer, so he takes to the internet to find you.

notes: my requests are open, ask away!

for @yourmypurpose

Winning the Champions League was supposed to be a feeling like no other, a feeling that you’d remember for the rest of your life. But Mason felt deflated, he felt like the world was closing in on him and he could do nothing but watch it happen. Even his friends noticed his awful mood, they’d gone from watching him run around the pitch with the trophy, with a smile nobody could take away from him, to this; a man not wanting to leave his bedroom, let alone his house. His career was the only thing he was doing well in, his girlfriend left him, he would just train, come home to an empty house, sleep, and repeat. It wasn’t a life worth living.

“It’ll be fun,” Declan pleaded, following his best friend into his living room, “it’ll be the perfect chance to get away from everything, from work, from the UK, from your ex.” He spoke the last part quietly, yet Mason still heard and shot his friend a glare as he sat on the couch.

“I’ll think about it.” Mason mumbled, reaching for his PlayStation controller and turning his console on. Declan was trying to get Mason to come to Mykonos with a few of the Chelsea boys, as a celebratory vacation after winning the Champions League. But he wasn’t budging.

“You say that, but you never do. Come on, if it doesn’t lift your mood, you can take the next flight home.” Declan was trying to reason with his friend, to do anything in order to get this man out of his sweatpants and into some swim shorts. This holiday was all Mason needed to get back into his rhythm, to realise you don’t need a girlfriend to be the best version of yourself, to realise he was Mason fucking Mount.

The look on Mason’s face was completely readable, a smile appearing on Declan’s face. Declan jumped onto his friend, cheering and shaking him vigorously. “You won’t regret this, we’re gonna have so much fun.”

Mason found himself in his plane seat, earphones on, and on the way to Mykonos. Greece had always been one of his dream destinations, it was one of the places he’d planned on going to with his ex. Shaking his thoughts from his head, he’d drowned himself in the music. Waiting for the next three hours to be over.

The villa was lovely, the view from his room was even better. He felt himself smile just a little, hopeful for this holiday. He’d spent the first day enjoying the food of Greece, visiting the beach, taking in the place he was staying. Every time the negative thoughts would try to push in, memories of his previous vacations with his ex, he shut it down. He forced a smile and laughed with his friends, hoping they didn’t see through this façade.

It was tiring. Getting back from a busy day and then being told there was a club in town. Having to force that smile back onto his face once more. He still dressed appropriately for the night ahead, pre-gaming with his friends before heading out to this club. It was only 8pm and it was packed, the place had an outside terrace, which didn’t seem so crowded.

Drink after drink, rounds of shots, drinking games with his friends and a few randomers. It was wild. Mason was finally beginning to let go of it all; his negative thoughts weren’t affecting him right now. It was pure bliss.

“Mase,” Declan called out, gesturing to him on the other side of the bar, “wanna play beer pong? These guys need another group.” Mason just nodded along, looking over to the group he was referring to. It was a group of four, just like them, but he’d locked eyes with you for the first time.

Throughout the game, you constantly had a smile stuck to your face, brighter than anything he’d seen before. It was the infectious type of smile, one that spread to his face too. The drinks had done a number on his movement, almost stumbling to the terrace, where only a few people sat. He took in the cool air, resting his head back onto the wall behind him.

“You good?” You questioned, sitting beside him and placing a hand on his shoulder. He quickly opened his eyes, turning his head to face you. There you were again.

“I’ve had a lot to drink,” Mason mumbled, breathing heavier than usual, “your twin looks so much like you.” You just laughed, understanding how much he’d had to drink. You had also had a lot to drink, but clearly Mason didn’t handle alcohol well.

“Here,” you instructed, holding his hand out for him and placing a cup into his hand, “it’s water, drink it.” You watched as he did so, downing it rather quickly and slamming it onto the table beside him. “Do you remember your name?”

“Yes, it’s Mount. Mason Mount.”

“Well, Mount, Mason Mount, do you remember where you’re staying? I think it might be an idea to get you home.” You spoke, the cool air sobering you up almost entirely. Mason’s head was getting droopy, you’d seen this all before, he was inches away from snoozing on your shoulder. You just giggled at him and stood up, grabbing both of his hands and pulling him up.

“We walked here from our villa, it’s a silly looking one. One with the pool shaped like a love heart.” You hummed, not knowing which one exactly, so his information rendered useless. He was leaning against you as you both walked back into the club, spotting his friends again.

“Hey, he’s had a lot to drink. I was going to walk him home but the only thing he said about the villa was that the pool was heart-shaped.” You laughed to his friend, who you’d learnt was called Ben. Mason was looking around the club, the multi-colored lights making his eyes squint in pain. This was the beginning of his hangover, he knew it was only going to get worse from here.

Ben had been kind enough to give you the villa address, and a key, so you made your way to the location. It was weird how trusting they were, for all they knew, you could be a psycho thief. You’d gotten to the villa, after an awful walk up the hill, and placed him on the couch. You didn’t even want to look at their stairs, let alone take Mason up them.

“I’ll stay here until your friends get back,” you spoke quietly, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch and laying it over the half-asleep Mason, “night, Mason.”

“You never said your name.” He stated, craning his head to look at you as you sat on the opposite couch.

“Y/N.”

Declan had gotten back, wanting to arrange another outing together, a bit less boozy than a club. And here you were, on your way to spend the day on a boat. You’d brought your polaroid camera with you, hoping to get some nice pictures with your friends before you go home in a few days.

“You’re back.” You spoke, sitting beside Mason as the boat started to move. He smiled at you, handing you a flute of a sparkly liquid, which you’d taken without complaining. “Having fun so far?”

“Yeah, I’m glad I’m seeing you again. I don’t really remember much from last night apart from your face.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. You blushed, hiding it with your hands and reaching for your camera.

“What do you say to a picture? To remember this moment.” You suggested, holding the camera up at the two of you. Mason’s arm slid around your shoulders, pulling you in closer with a smirk on his face. You just smiled your usual, bright smile, and let the photo develop.

The day was spent enjoying the view, jumping off the boat multiple times, finally making your way back to the docks when the sun began to set. Everyone was sitting on the front of the boat, taking in the last few hours of the sun on their skin, whilst you and Mason were at the back together. Away from the sun, completely alone. You laid beside him, your eyes shifting to look at him every few seconds.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He retorted, poking his tongue out at you as you laughed, shoving his leg slightly.

“Oh, I already have.” You replied wittily, holding the polaroid up to show him. It was quite a creative picture, actually. His skin was tanned, muscles perky, the sun hitting him in all the right places. He was very handsome, you could only imagine the job he had back home.

“Hey, give that,” Mason chuckled, reaching for the polaroid but you’d held it away from him. He leant over to you, hand out to grab it, but you’d both been focused on something else. How close your lips were. You could feel the other’s breathe, it was straight out of a movie the way Mason grabbed your waist and closed the gap between the two of you. He was pulling you down with him, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. This was an Oscar-worthy kiss.

You knew you wouldn’t see these boys again, as you didn’t have long before you returned back to the UK. So, as you were grabbing your things, you’d flicked through the polaroid's from today, finding the one of you and Mason.

“Here,” you spoke, holding the polaroid out for him to take, “I thought you’d like it. And it’s a way of remembering your time here, and the most gorgeous girl you’ve ever laid eyes on.” You joked, but Mason really felt that way. You were the most gorgeous girl he’d laid eyes on. He came on this holiday thinking it would depress him even more, but he found fun in you.

“Trust me, I won’t forget a face like that.” He replied, placing the polaroid into his wallet and smiling. “See you,” he whispered against your neck as you hugged, one last time, “someday.”

It had been two months since he’d returned from holiday, back to work, but more importantly, back to his old self. He enjoyed going to work, coming home, and spending time with his friends. He saw beauty in his mundane life again. But he missed you. He never thought he’d miss a two day fling with a random girl on holiday, it wasn’t even a fling, The pair of you hadn’t hooked up, only shared a kiss. But it was a good kiss, an unforgettable kiss.

“Have you searched her name up?” Declan asked, relaxing into the corner of Mason’s couch, rolling his eyes as Mason opened his wallet up for the fifteenth time that day. The boys were round for their frequent game day, a day Mason looked forward to.

Mason shook his head, slightly embarrassed to have forgotten your name, in his defense, he was out-of-this-world drunk. “I don’t remember it, I was hammered. Plus, I’m sure there’s at least a thousand people in this country who share her name.”

“Post the picture on Instagram, people always find people on there, it’s creepy.” Ben added, laughing at the end of his statement. It was a good idea, but was he ready to put it out there that he’d moved on, only for his ex to be mentioned in his comments again? Were you worth all of those nasty comments?

He’d posted the polaroid that evening, with the caption:

‘Instagram, do your thing.’

You had received a call from your brother, just as you were heading up to bed. Strange, you thought, your brother only called if he had some ridiculous news. You’d answered it, sitting on your stairs as he spoke.

“Did you meet anyone on holiday?” He questioned, your mind instantly flicking back to your memories with that man. The kiss on the boat, the horrible walk up the hill, the fighting over a polaroid.

“Why’s that your business?” You questioned, running up your stairs and grabbing the polaroid's from your bedside table and flicking through them.

“It’s my business when I’m scrolling through Instagram, only to find a Chelsea player has posted a picture of you and him.” He mentioned, voice raising in disbelief as he finished his sentence. You furrowed your brows, Chelsea player?

“Chelsea player? Chelsea, as in the football team you follow?” You wondered, opening Instagram to find this man’s account. You’d forgotten his name, curse your horrible memory. “What’s his name again?”

“Mason Mount,” he recalled, and you were kicking yourself for not remembering his silly James Bond introduction. Finding his account, you’d seen his recent post. It was your polaroid. The one you’d given him the last time you’d seen each other, he was looking for you. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, scrolling the comments and seeing everyone compliment you. How did you manage to run into this man and not remember his face? Or his name? The amount of times your family had mentioned how A1 he was on the pitch, how happy they were when Chelsea had won the Champions League.

“That’s not me,” you lied to your brother, knowing there was no way of escaping this now, everyone you knew would be able to tell it was you.

“Don’t bullshit me, Y/N,” he laughed on the other end of the phone, as you were frantically shoving the polaroid's back into your drawer, “I don’t know anyone else who uses a polaroid camera.”

“Should I text him?”

“You’d be an idiot not to.”

After ending the call with your brother, you sat in Mason Mount’s inbox for over an hour, unable to send him a message. Was there a right thing to say? Was ‘hi’ not enough for the man you’d left a mark on? Throwing away all of your conflicting thoughts, you sighed and just sent the word, ‘hey’. It didn’t take long for him to get back to you, so over the moon that he’d found you.

Mason: I can’t believe it worked, I actually found you.

Turns out my brother follows you and saw the picture, small world?

Mason: Chelsea fan, huh?

Guess so.

Your conversation lasted until the early hours of the morning, you promising Mason a proper date when you were both free. He had training the next day, but how could he sleep when he now knew you. He now had your Instagram, so he could talk to you, instead of staring at the polaroid in his wallet a million times a day.

[liliumofthevalleysstuff]

Top-Secret folders: the bat sovereign:

Krul Tepes

•4’9

•Secretly enjoys Halloween, but stays quiet about it because she hates giving Ferid the satisfaction that she likes the holiday celebrated on his birthday.

•Shares a bedroom with Harumi(to emphasize that they’re both respectively a DA and a questioning DA.)

•Aside from her main dress, Krul greatly enjoys gothic dresses but on very rare occasions, would wear angelcore-styled dresses. (Side fact: She despises jeans. Especially the tight ones. //I do as well IRL.)

•The one responsible for everyone inside of the Moonlit household, the tribes of kinsiders and Kinfirmclan. (And Synpath zone too). She knows who everyone is and what source they're from, but not how they act/their backstories.

•Due to being the Queen of Vampires, Krul tends to be more than a little arrogant, which makes her sometimes unpleasant to be around with. She acts apathetic to other people's feelings without truly meaning it, and that's what causes her controversies half of the time.

•Arukanu is a familiar sent by the First Progenitor as surveillance over Krul’s actions.(fact from the actual fan book.) However, she has grown to love the bat and care for it like a pet of hers.

•Her forms of speech and writing are typically very formal. Although, whenever she is upset/excited about something, she will shout or type in caps locks, as well as use abbreviations for a more comedic effect.

•She knows how to play the harp and the flute. It was a skill that she learned when she was still a human child.

•For people’s birthdays, it is tradition for Krul to make them flower-crowns. However, it is placed in the most sophisticated birthday box(with ribbon) so that the celebrant doesn’t initially suspect that it’s a flower crown in the first place.

•She doesn’t admit it out loud but she loves flowers, she’s an enthusiast for them and would love to learn anything new about them. She has an underground garden in Sanguinem and secretly visits human Botanic gardens on the surface.

•She has sensitive vampire ears, whether it’s to loud noise or to the cold. (//I'm projecting at this point.)

•She loves oversized/baggy sweaters. During the winter, whenever she was alone. (Side fact: She finds the “Ugly sweater” Christmas tradition hilarious and forces her guards to participate in it.)

•Her favourite season is Spring, because that's when nature typically starts growing back after a cold winter. Bonus, there's so many flowers and it makes Krul ecstatic to see them again.

•When meeting Krul or walking past her, people have said that she smelled of chocolate-covered strawberries.

•She learnt to style hair from practicing on her older brother Ashera.

•Her friend group around the household are: Riliane, Harumi, Marisa and Dream. (She occasionally speaks with Missi, though.)

•She doesn't get along very well with Shinoa Hiiragi because of two reasons. The first being that she's kin with Mahiru Hiiragi, the person she formally made a bargain with. Second, because her and Mitsuba ruined her dress when they all stayed at the apartment.

[writeblrfantasy]

snippets from the farlingverse: the first lines of each book

i have seven books' worth of content to give you guys and i'm not going to apologize for posting so much about this :) i can do the last lines of every book if yall would like!! let me know which of these was your favorite

“For grace’s sake, man, I am not paying you any more than that!”

The merchant holds the gaze of Ruby’s mother for a stubborn moment, then sighs when she doesn’t budge.

“Not a copper more,” she repeats as he bends to package the sugar. She turns to shake her head at Ruby. “The nerve they’ve had lately, thinking they can prey on our purses because of the war ration fears.”

Ruby stifles laughter. Her mother’s outrage at greedy merchants and Varling soldiers is as humorous as it is inspiring. Asa does not hide his chortles so well, but they’re lost in the small city that is the market.

~

Ruby looks up from her sword and polishing cloth at the sound of Esther’s boots. They’ve both long since foregone the armor that clanks, but work boots still makes themselves known.

Ruby smiles in greeting, offering a cup of cold berry juice. Esther declines, pulling off her gardening gloves and handing her a bouquet of her prize roses.

Ruby brings them to her nose, inhaling deeply then pulling back to admire the colors. Yellow, red, white, pink, Esther has grown them all, like she grew the breathtaking and beautiful front garden. It’s hard to believe this place was but a mess of overgrown weeds and sun yellowed grass when they bought it.

~

The borders of Eingard came into view hours ago, revealing barren earth and a flurry of people working at the docks. Now they’re mere minutes away from setting foot on the shores. Vasyra is surprised no one has noticed them yet.

Vasyra has been standing at the railing for what feels like an eternity, waiting, waiting, waiting for this very sight. Not just these past weeks of travel, but for decades. His ancestors waited centuries before him.

Now the moment is here. Though it’s not the way he ever thought it would be, Vasyra felt a sense of calm. He had long ago learnt that nerves and panic would do nothing good, and so instead he closed his eyes and breathed in deep. Mixed with the salt of the sea was a foreign scent.

~

Cygnus is standing on a table.

He has a wine cup in his hand—of that he’s sure—and everyone is laughing, tapping their feet, clapping to the rhythm of the music. Harlan’s harp sits alone next to the flute players, and Cygnus says, “Come on, play something for us!” He spreads his arms, causing a bit of liquid to slosh out of the cup. He’s too light to care, even if he’s hot all over from dancing.

The rest of the room joins in cajoling the court magic master trying to hide under Ruby’s cloak. “I’m not sure I can play such lively tunes on the harp like this,” Harlan says, like that will deter anyone. “How about a show of magic instead?” he asks hastily, before the crowd around him can push him towards the harp.

~

The moment Cygnus’s feet touch the ground of Esla island, he feels the continuous humming of magic, stronger and clearer than at any place Cygnus has been on mainland Orenda. The power of it makes him gasp.

He gathers himself and turns, trying to hide his pride that this is the first time he’s landed on his feet after being transported. He takes in the brilliant view. Just as Vasyra described, the sea crashes over tall, dark, jagged rocks that guard the coast and prevented any ships from docking neatly. The sand on which he stands is dark and smooth, nothing like anything they have in Eingard.

~

Snow, snow and more snow. Amina is tired of brushing it out of her clothes, of wearing three layers and sweating under them while her nose freezes on her face. She huffs, seeing her breath, and kept trudging through.

Eingard has never known so cold a winter, especially not in the south.

The snow is coming down heavily. She can see barely two feet in front of her. One would think she’d know the way to the cabin by now, but everything in this forest looks the same, the skinny trees with their thin coats of snow covered leaves and the eternal blanket of snow on the ground. Her footprints from the morning were obliterated by the falling snow, and the sun is useless to her for the same reason.

~

“No, not there, you buffoon—hey, watch where you’re going! Idiot,” Ruby mutters under her breath, quickly ducking out of the way of another clumsy oaf, who’s following his companions with bouquets of red and pink and green flowers imported from Orenda. A few here and there were from Esther’s garden.

“Ah, Ruby,” Cygnus says as he entered the ballroom, all smiles. The servants in the room hasten to bow, but Cygnus waves lazily. They return to their work. “Servants giving you trouble?”

“The palace servants, no,” Ruby huffs. “It’s the fools from the docks helping unload the flowers that have no sense of direction.”

fv taglist (lmk to be added/removed): @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @magic-is-something-we-create @47crayons

[werezmastarbucks]

Whitmore guy - the boy in a shirt with a bat

Part One

Part Two

Kai Parker x fem!Reader slowburn

whatever gifs I’m going to use on this one, I hope the creators are okay with that

The Mystic Falls team decide they want to get rid of Kai Parker for good - and in a way that would ensure he won’t be able to come back. Death is not secure enough this time, so they go with Malivore. Who knows what the poor bastard is doing down there, but six months later, a new guy comes to work at the college - and meets the reader seemingly for the first time.

word count: 2987 ish

warnings: none

music: blink-182 - down, blink-182 - always, green day - the last of the american girls; Y/N quotes don’t leave me by - you guessed it - blink-182

MAY

Y/N was almost done. Almost-almost done, and the clock was only showing half past seven. It’s still half an hour until full sunset, and she has every chance to wrap it up and go rush to the football field in the town, perch herself on the seats and watch.

It’s just that all the troubles of all the Whitmore students were hanging like dead weight on her, and realistically, if she worked all day, every day, with a five hour sleep, and a twenty minutes lunch break, Christmas included, she would finish reading and delegating all student complaints and applications by the year 2098.

She threw herself back in the chair and pressed her palms against her eyes, letting the green specks poke the darkness. Then she realized that the music she’s been hearing for the last hour wasn’t playing in her head – the sound has been coming from the outside world.

Y/N opened her eyes and listened. Yup, she was sure it was her own brain because nobody’s listened to that reeeally old stuff in years. There’s just nobody left in the whole state of Virginia who’s openly a blink-182 fan.

She jumped up from her chair excitedly, happiness striking in her head like a flare gun; somebody was listening to their song! At the college! Somewhere on the floor! And it wasn’t her!

Y/N left her office and walked down the quiet corridor, following the sound like a thread. What a song it was, too.

Tidal waves they rip right through me

Tears from eyes worn cold and sad

Pick me up now…

The epic teenage angst made you want to go get all the bad tattoos you could possibly spend your money on.

Y/N knew she loved that song some time ago, but couldn’t remember why. It pulled on a surprisingly sturdy thread in her heart and made it bleed in a second; like she was a teenager again, like she was on the verge of a breakdown, and the whole world was full of amazement and bursting, vivid sensations.

Y/N almost ran to the sound, holding her lip between her teeth and never noticing it. Her face was lit with anticipation as she paused in front of the door. Somebody was playing music in the gatherings hall, where the acoustics were crazy, and all the space all but welcomed all kinds of dancing, prancing and hopping. The song ended, and another started to play; and yet she knew it again.

It went like this:

I’ve been here before a few times,

And I’m quite aware we’re dying…

 Y/N pushed the door and it gave. She saw the hall, lit by all the lamps, although she was quite sure that the maintenance had already turned everything off except her office.

A guy was crouching on the floor next to the window, and a big sports bag was lying at his feet. Weird, he looked like a schoolboy, and the next second he stood up and she saw he was a young man. The guy didn’t seem to notice her at first, so Y/N had a couple of seconds to stare at the stranger. He was all jumpy, tall, boyish in a way; his dark hair was a little messed up, as he probably ruffled it with his hands; she’s never seen him here before. Being the welfare office worker, Y/N knew pretty much everyone in this huge place, - which was scary, by the way, - but this one was probably new. She couldn’t really place him neither with students nor with the staff. So she just placed him with the good music lovers. She already liked this dude. He was wearing a grey shirt with a stupid drawing of a cartoonish bat, green blood spilling out of its mouth. And Converses. Again, who still wears Converses in Whitmore or Mystic Falls?

He looked up, watching her for a second, and then waved his hand. They couldn’t really hear each other over the music, but the guy still said something. Y/N motioned towards his portable speaker which was spitting out the fast chords and energetic drumming. That was the best. That was the best song in the world, and she was almost sorry when the bat guy ran towards the speaker and turned the volume down.

“Hey- woah, I didn’t realize there was somebody alive here!” he exclaimed.

“Are you having a party?” she asked instead of a hello. They stared at each other for a mere second before letting out the air from their lungs.

“Does that bother you?”

“No way. I was drawn here like a rat by a flute. Man, I haven’t heard Blink on speakers or even on the radio, for ages”.

He smiled, and Y/N melted. The guy was approaching her slowly, walking like he owned the place. His smile was white, and his eyes, in contrast, seemed completely black, but, as he came closer, she saw they were dark blue. It’s just his pupils - so enlarged they covered almost everything, trying to devour his eye. He sure looked like he was high.

Something hit her, and backed off immediately. There was something about him, something weird, outlandish, not Mystic Falls at all, neither Whitmore, but hey. Everything in the closest vicinity of Mystic Falls is completely consumed by its spores. Everything was Mystic Falls color, the people, the nature, and the college; people spoke, walked and loved in such a way that you could tell they all come from the same place, full of scandals and vampires.

This dude, though. He looked a bit mad, Y/N reckoned, his wide smile never touched his dark eyes, and they shone with something that made her look just a little too long. He smelled like trouble. After all these years she’s been rubbing elbows with all kinds of bad, Y/N could tell who’s what. She could tell a beast when she met one. Vampires looked different to her, call it intuition or habit.

But this dude… he just looked different. He was like ink, like milk, like blood. His face looked perfect all-American beautiful, with lean triangle chin and strong jaw line. And yet, it was crooked somehow. He looked youthful, but the look about him said old. The fact that he was keeping silent a second too long, was standing an inch too close, looking at her too closely, all said trouble. It was blinding how quick she felt all that, in a flash, and against all odds, she smiled.

She didn’t know what he was.

“Ha, you’re staring”, he said, amused.

“Dude, I’m trying to remember if I’d seen you before”.

His sharp eyebrows, like two eagle wings, were drawn together in mocking concentration.

“Well. Have you?” There was an inviting smirk on his lips, showcasing two things: he had a very nice mouth. And. There was a reason enough to keep distance.

“No. I have excellent memory for faces”.

He shrugged like nothing in his easy, carefree life, mattered.

“Yeah, me neither. This is the first time my eyes are on you”.

“Wow”, she nodded, “you’re weird enough”.

“I’ve been said that”.

“How dangerous are you?”

“Uhm…” he pretended to ponder, poking his chin with his right index finger. Y/N saw a large steel ring on it, with a pretty, strange scattering of tiny dark dots. A very unusual marking, too, but she said nothing. He had a face of a TV star. She could very well picture him in a sitcom with a lame title like “My crazy family”, in which he would be the geeky, but sexy, smart oldest son of a little bit absent-minded parents.

“Like… eight out of fourteen. I’ve been to a camp once… it was a type of… you know, like a summer camp?”

Y/N found she had to actually focus to follow his thought. She looked straight at him attentively, feeling bright magenta giggle rising inside of her.

“Uh-huh. The Crystal Lake type? Or the Sleepaway Camp?”

“Get out!” he exclaimed, stretching his vowels. They laughed exactly at the moment for Billie Joe to yell about the Last of the American Girls.

“No, more like a concentration camp”, he offered, “but like, you’re alone there, so you have to do all the torturing yourself”.

“God’s sake, what kind of camp was it?”

“I literally just told you”, he replied with a pause, and his articulate face went blank. Y/N couldn’t hold off a sniff. She felt like she was a bit drunk, but that was more of overworking, late evening, lots of coffee and that everlasting feeling of despair one gets upon realizing that work will never end.

“Anyway, I learnt a lot of useful stuff there”, the boy said, “how to start a fire, how to make a knot, you know, the type you’re not getting out of, ever. A-and, like, how to make stakes out of sticks”.

Alert reddened Y/N skull from the inside. She tilted her head. Reading him was in vain. This dude was misty, he was shut off like a persona that’s uncrackable simply because it never really existed.

“What for?”

“Oh, you know, grilled sausages and stuff”.

She reprimanded herself silently for being a basket case. Yeah, sure. Grilled sausages, and only then – killing vampires; that’s how it works in the normal world.

“What about you?” he asked suddenly.

“Huh?”

“How dangerous are you?”

“Ow, extremely. I mean, look at me”.

She stretched out her arms, displaying herself (like a complete sellout, she thought. There goes the very first male who listens to Green Day and blink-182 and you’re already opening your ribcage for him, what a piece of work).

Diligently, the guy took a step back to get a better view. It was all very comical, with a very characteristic soundtrack.

“I am really looking, and I have thoughts. What exactly do you mean?”

“Small. Disproportional limbs. Frail muscles. Do you see? Very angry as a result. Very angry all my life. So, very dangerous”.

He smiled joyfully, wide, bright sparkles exploding in the dark of his eyes.

“I got it. Not gonna piss you off. Actually, I guess, since I’m new here, I should bond with the strong ones, right? I’ll be working as your computer guy. You need something fixed, so that you owe me a favor and don’t kill me when you get mad?”

Y/N scratched her temple, thinking if she needed anything in her laptop fixed. Ridiculously, there was something.

“Funny you should ask. I have the stupidest problem… I… what’s your name again?”

“Oh, my manners”, the guy sighed gravely, and outstretched his hand, “Mal. And you..?”

She considered his palm for a second before shaking it. A light buzz stung her which she barely noticed. Mal’s shirt was probably all synthetic fabric. She told him her name, and he gave a nod.

“Are you really an IT guy?”

“Why would I lie?” he asked, puzzled. He pointed behind his back, turning a little:

“You see that wall? I’m tearing out the old wiring right now. That’s why I’m here so late. Tomorrow you’re gonna have new wi-fi, with the dopest name and the password you’ll never guess”.

Y/N could instantly think of a thousand passwords that were puns for punk rock songs’ names. She abstained from vocalizing them all immediately.

“Alright then”.

“What stupid problem are you having? Have you tried to…” his eyebrows moved suggestively, like he was about to say something R-rated. “…you know?”

“Nah, it’s with the browser. The default search engine is Yahoo for some reason, and I hate Yahoo with burning passion… I’ve no idea how to make it Google again”.

“Are you for real?”

“Yeah. I’m the college sociologist, not a bloody programmer”.

Mal couldn’t help laughing. He headed for the doors, hopping a little in the rhythm of the song.

“Perhaps I made a mistake in detecting you as one of the leaders of this pride”, he mumbled, “where’s your office? You’re the sociologist here?”

Y/N followed him into the corridor.

“Yup”.

“What exactly does it mean?”

“If they need somebody to listen to how they’re closeted gays, I listen. If they need me to fill out the forms for their loans, I fill them out. If teachers had a party the night before and can’t come in now because they’re hungover, I come in instead and take their classes. If…”

“Gee, how much do they pay you for that?”

Y/N felt her face move, all parts of it separately. Just thinking about it was unnerving. But that’s the job she asked for. That’s the responsibility she’d grown into. She’d been a teacher herself for some time, and then got tired of the creative pressure of coming up with the new ways of explaining one thing every day; she thought this position would bring some diversity in her everyday thinking style. She was being silly. However, when she realized she was worked up, it also brought a strange taste of satisfaction in a way that she was giving all of her, and her conscience was clear. She explained all that to Mal. Then she pushed her door and they found themselves in her darkened office. The first pink flames of raspberry sunset were trying the sky.

“Damn it”, she swore, “I’m late for sunset again”. How the fuck long did she spend in the gatherings hall?!

“You like watching it?”

“Sure. It’s like the doorframe syndrome, have you heard about it?”

Mal smiled, sprinting to her laptop that’s been waiting for her on the desk, abandoned.

“Oh yeah”, he sneered, “I was just thinking about it, but then I entered this room and forgot”.

Y/N sat in the armchair on the opposite side of her desk, thinking to herself, he’s probably gonna die really soon. Like Brandon, the last interesting dude she’d met in Mystic Falls back when she was on the haul, working at the Grill. Brandon was the best bartender the place had ever seen in its prolonged history, and he was also very clearly interested in Y/N, too. They worked together a lot, and drank at night even more. They got to know each other pretty well, which made it even worse when someone came in, in the broad daylight, and broke his neck. Just when Y/N thought that the Mystic Falls curse has been lifted and normal people could feel safe. It’s been two years, or even more, since then, and now she sat there, cynical and certain, that such a cool dude like Mal wouldn’t last here long. The place consumes people like him – those who wake up her desire to live again.

“Oh-kay, I’ll just close all this porn here”, Mal looked at the screen. Y/N has been writing a report when she heard the music, and left the document open. “You wanna Google by default?”

“Yes”.

“Come here and learn while I’m alive”, Mal said solemnly, not noticing the look she gave him, stunned at the sinister coincidence of thinking.

She circled the desk and stood at his shoulder. Mal smelled of candy (literally this time), so sweet it was almost suffocating. Did he fucking rub it in his hair?! Y/N thought of tricksters casually, the Scandinavians like Loki, whose only downfall was in that extra sweet smell of all kinds of sugar poison that gave them away. Could Mal be a malevolent spirit, luring her into a trap? What’s he gonna do? Eat her insides?

“Are you looking?”

“Yes”.

“It’s two seconds. See?”

“Oh”.

Mal turned to her in her own armchair like he owned it and looked up without a shade of awkwardness.

“You seriously didn’t know how to do that? I don’t even need to be an IT specialist to be able to fix that”.

“What are you getting at?” Y/N barked defensively. She prided herself in not understanding anything about computers, like it made her old in a wise way.

“I gotta tell you before we kick it off – I have a girlfriend”.

Y/N digested it for a second.

“Oh, you smug face”, she spat out, “you think I’m hitting on you?”

“I mean…” his innocent-wild eyes acted very well.

“I don’t know shit about this computer crap, I thank God every day I manage to even turn it on…”

“You’re cool and very nice, but…”

“I don’t hit on people”, Y/N banged herself in the chest, “people hit on me”.

Mal puffed with laughter, still looking up.

“Okay, sorry. I’ve never met anyone like you. Quiet so… helpless”.

“There. Don’t you ever assume…”

“We’re gonna be friends though, right?”

Y/N shrugged.

“Sure. Emos gotta stick together, or else we commit unspeakable things. Now, get out of my office”.

“I prefer to think of myself as a broke-free treasure hunter, thank you very much”.

Mal was smiling like a cunning happy brat as he walked out of the door. He stopped half way, catching himself on the handle. Having crossed the line of the doorframe, he must have recalled something.

“What did you say about the sunsets? And the syndrome?”

“Oh, yeah”, Y/N uttered, propping herself back at the computer. She could feel evening migraine coming, together with the song blasting and echoing from the hall down the corridor. “When I see that, you know, the bloody pink when it’s just ending, I feel like I’m remembering something I’d forgotten. It’s a weird feeling. Kind of like a déjà vu backwards. You ever had that?”

Mal blinked, thinking. Seriously, this time. Looking at him, Y/N decided, that yes, they were going to be friends. He was making her feel something. Something good about all this job, and all that was in her past. All that she thought she outgrew. He was clear, black and white, sturdy, holding on to her door like he was keeping it in place.

“You have to have your head checked, Y/N. It might be terminal…”

“Get out, Mal. Don’t let my door hit your ass”.

“Jesus, you’re really obsessed with blink-182, aren’t you?”

Y/N felt no shame.

[modosphere]

Silent Night

Christmas Eve Styles Family Home Malibu, California 2023

“They look so adorable, don’t they?” Rose smiled, appearing next to me. I nodded, turning back to Ed, Dany and Hughie as they stared, unblinking, at the newest range of Power Rangers storm through a skyscraper. It was extremely gushy of me, I knew, but seeing Dany clutch his red Power Ranger in awe made me feel happy. “Looks are so deceiving…” Rose added, making me laugh. She  had that right - especially since Ari had been born, I’d learnt that despite all of the innocent looks, brother and sister were anything but.

Maybe if it didn’t remind me of myself and Adam so much, I wouldn’t have minded as much as I should.

I followed Rose into the kitchen after looking at the boys one more time, the three of them practically falling off the sofa, they were watching the TV so raptly. 

Christmas with Rose had officially become tradition. Everyone put it down to Rose’s food and amazing hosting skills, but I knew better, even if I didn’t say it - it was understood between Rose, Harry and I that even though Rose had never gotten her memories back, hosting Christmas was something she was comfortable with; like the constancy of it was therapy for her or something. 

Five years. Five years since the accident and it still felt too close, too raw. It still hurt, knowing Rose couldn’t remember such a huge part of her - our - lives - and having to watch her hope deteriorate. No matter how many times the doctors had warned her that her memories returning was becoming less and less likely, she’d never given up, saying her brain would magically heal itself like one of those medical miracles she always saw on TV. She’d just kept… Waiting. Yes, okay, she’d still lived her life while she did wait, but she hadn’t been living properly - she hadn’t been living her life as Rose Avery. 

Just a few months into her job with with the London Met, she’d given it up - and not because of her pregnancy with Ed, but because she’d claimed she couldn’t be “taken seriously” when the paparazzi were constantly snapping pictures of her and Harry together. Of course, I’d known that was a lie. Rose Avery, or what little had been left of her, was who had sent in the application for the London Met job; but Rose didn’t know that person anymore. So by the time Ed was born, the only version of herself she knew was Rose Styles.

Of course, that didn’t mean my best friend wasn’t in there any more. It just meant she… She wasn’t exactly the same best friend I’d always had. I’d always dodged the question when she’d asked, but the old Rose wouldn't have been able to adapt to being a 1D wife as quickly as this Rose had; she’d charmed the fans, embraced the limelight, where the old Rose would have been too insecure to make it last. It had been a good change.

But she was more stubborn than before. So it had hurt more and more to watch her diligently wait for a brain miracle that wasn’t about to happen.

It was silly to think about now, but… Well, nobody else had bothered to keep hope for Rose’s memories as more and more time had gone on. Why should they? Rose losing her memories somehow made everything… Easier. Liam and Harry’s underlying issues stopped existing when Rose couldn’t notice them and feel insecure about them anymore and Eddie had… Extracted himself from the situation by then. The stupid boy had given up too, and now that Rose only remembered Ryan as a friend, he’d considered hanging around as pointless.

I’d tried to maintain hope, really. But deep down, I’d lost it before Rose had. How could I? Just because I’d not believed in happily-ever-afters only to have one handed to me at the last minute, it didn’t mean I expected that to happen all the time. Too much time had passed for Rose to suddenly just… Remember. And honestly, the entire time, it felt like the Rose who I’d known before the accident was in there somewhere deep down, wishing she wouldn’t fully remember. Her life was simpler this way.

But Rose wasn’t stupid - after two years, she finally accepted that her memories were gone.

It hadn’t been pretty.

I’d felt so… Obsolete. Even if she couldn’t remember it, how many times had Rose been there for me? Pulled me through, made me smile when I’d thought I couldn’t anymore? But when Rose finally accepted that she’d lost access to an entire part of her life, I… I was useless.

What kind of a friend did that make me?

The only word I had to describe how she’d been when the doctors had told her there was nothing more they could do, is depressed. She stopped going out as much, she struggled to find things to do at home. She just… Lost interest, until one day she and Harry had gotten into a ridiculous argument in front of a two-year old Darcy.

It had been insane. Rose and Harry didn’t argue; they sniped and sighed and moaned at each other, but they didn’t argue, not properly - certainly not the way Aman and I did when we kicked off, in a flash of fireworks and shouting. But Rose had gone totally insane - shouting, screaming, throwing things. Once she’d calmed down - and that took a week, a whole week of ranting coffee sessions and threats of divorce -, I’d managed to get her to agree to getting some time away. It had actually been Harry’s idea, but… Harry had been public enemy number one at the time.

She’d spent two weeks away, two terrifying weeks where I didn’t know where my best friend was or if she was okay. Even though Harry had promised he’d be able to handle things by himself, Ed had stayed with us for a while. We’d been home in London and Harry and Rose hadn’t bought their California place yet - so Ed and Darcy stayed with us during the day and Harry took baby Darcy between recording the new album of the time. 

That said, it was no secret that Harry being alive this long after being given responsibility of his own breathing was nothing short of a miracle - so I’d made sure he and Darcy had spent plenty of time with us, too. If Rose needed time away to get her shit together, then fine, but I’d at least make sure her husband didn’t lose himself and his baby girl to baby wolves during the time she was away.

Rose had come back completely refreshed, and had acted as if nothing had happened. As cruel as it sounded, seeing her finally so content with herself had made me relieved. In an odd way, the accident had set her free in a way she never would have been if she hadn’t lost her memory - and now that the gap in her mind was here to stay, what was the purpose of wishing it wasn’t? Yes, I wished Rose remembered all of our jokes and all of the milestones we’d had when she’d first arrived in London, but I still had her here, with me - we were still together. So my selfishness, for once, just had to shut up and deal.

So even though it was a really dumb thing to reminisce about so much later… I still felt so proud of Rose. She looked so elegant in the sleeveless, olive-green dress she’d taken at least a month to choose. Elegant and content. 

We’d gotten through it all.

There was a party in full swing, with tinsel wrapped around the banisters and scented candles lit in every room. Rose had hired catering staff to keep serving guests snacks and fancy flutes of champagne, even though she had cooked one of the most amazing meals I’d ever witnessed for dinner. The guests were mainly industry friends of Rose and Harry, some of them people I knew from way back when, but all of the familiar faces were here too - Niall was here with Alanna, Hughie and Izzy, who was sporting her ridiculously tiny pregnant stomach at seven months; Liam and Kara were here with the twins, who were called that even though they weren’t; Ryan was kicking around somewhere, chatting up some models. Rose’s family hadn’t been in touch since the accident, but she had a new family now - us. And we weren’t going anywhere.

The only couples that were missing were Louis and Vivienne and, of course, my beloved ex-husband and ex-childhood best friend. Lou and Vivienne were spending Christmas in Mexico as part of their honeymoon… Yep, honeymoon. The two idiots had finally stopped playing with one another and had decided to get married in a tiny ceremony in the middle of nowhere, with just their family as witnesses and baby Scarlett as a bridesmaid. Although we’d all teased them about being cut out, we weren’t angry - honestly, so long as Vivienne was finally committing, I was more than happy. She’d taken long enough. That girl’s commitment issues were legendary and God only knew how Louis had been not-so-subtly trying to tie Vivienne down for years now.

As for Zayn… Well, I didn’t miss him in any way. He’d finally gotten one child ahead of me - Layla had given birth in England to their newest son, Syed.

It was pathetic, really, how Zayn felt the need to get Layla to pop out another baby the moment he found out I was pregnant. Mikael, his eldest, had been announced as on the way less than three months after I’d announced I was pregnant with Dany. It was sad, really. No, actually, not sad - downright pathetic. It also turned out that Rianna, their only girl, had been cooking in Layla’s stomach when Zayn had tried to make my and Aman’s baby his through raping me.

God, I hated him. It hit me in waves, the space between them always making me think I was over it, but… The mere mention of him made me want to tear him to pieces. He’d seen Ari, my baby Ari, as some sort of sick substitute for his pitfalls as a husband when we’d been married. Who did that? Who tried to hijack the innocence of a brand new baby, to try and use in their own sick agenda?

Oh, right. The creep I’d once made the mistake of marrying.

It really was a godsend that I’d met Aman. If I’d hadn’t, I would have always just assumed I had really shitty taste in men.

I did worry about Layla, every now and then - though reason, as well as everyone I knew, told me I shouldn’t. I didn’t care if it sounded egotistical; every fibre of my being told me that Zayn had married one of my friends, someone who had been at my wedding the first time around, out of pure spite. Did he treat her right? From what I’d heard and seen he did, but I knew better than anyone what a two-faced prat Zayn really was.

That said, Layla and I weren’t built the same. Zayn couldn’t just get up and leave Layla whenever he wanted - she’d take him for everything he had if he dared. In a sick way, they kind of deserved one another.

Anyway - it was because Zayn and Layla were still in England that Aman and I were celebrating Christmas with Rose for the first time in at least two years. It was nice, to be back again. Therapeutic, almost - it felt like nothing had changed even though everything had, and for the better.

“Where are Darcy and Zarina?” Rose asked, nudging me and snapping me out of my nostalgia. She handed me a pack of extra long candles and motioned with her head to the candles on the table. It was pathetic. I was a mother of two, but was still too scared to use normal-length candles.

“The playroom, the last I saw, with Alanna and Izzy.” I told her, trying to shake off the overwhelming sense of oldness that I felt whenever I saw Alanna. Alanna was five years old now - five, huge years old. It felt like only five minutes had passed since we’d all been waiting outside Isolde’s hospital room, listening to her scream as she gave birth. How had five years changed everything so much? Putting aside the motherhood, I even had a new husband; and after two kids, I didn’t even think of him as new anymore. 

Hell, on paper, I was even a respectable businesswoman. That had never been a… Thing, five years ago; but then, five years ago, I hadn’t had shares in Conde Nast, or had been developing the media branch of the Zafar Inc. I’d barely learnt what an eyelash curler was back then - and now, I could apply mascara in a moving vehicle, with my son playing Power Rangers next to me.

“You really need to explain why you’re dressed like a tramp to me.” Rose sighed, eyeing me. Um, rude. “Like, seriously, what is even going on over there?”

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s not hospitable to insult your guests?”

“I wasn’t hosting the party where that was said.” Rose grinned cheekily, making me laugh. “So. Explanation?”

I looked down at myself. I hadn’t thought my outfit wasn’t presentable! Less on the fitted side that baggy, yes, but still appropriately festive. My jumper was oversized with a strip of black lace running down each sleeve, but my jeans were skinny and my heels weren’t ugly. I was just… Covered.

“How do you know I haven’t just gotten really fat?” I retorted. “I could actually be crying on the inside right now, because of your comment. I could be really offended. Ever think of that?”

“Nice try!” Rose snorted. “You enjoy being some kind of yoga dominatrix way too much in bed with that sexy husband of yours to ever really let yourself go.”

There was no point pretending she was wrong, so I let her see my smug smile. Hey. I had talents in the bedroom now.

That had definitely changed in the past five years.

“You really need to tell me what’s going on with you.” Rose continued, swatting my hands away from picking some strawberries from reindeer’s nose. Oh, yes. Rose had made a reindeer cake. “I know there’s something and I will keep you hostage until you tell me.”

“As flattering as your obsessive behaviour is,” I said in my snootiest voice. “My bank balance and ability to strike the fear of God in anyone who questions me, means that I could do something about it.” I grinned as I took one of the strawberries, ignoring Rose’s narrowed eyes. “You’re just a pop-star’s wife. If this were an episode of Gossip Girl, which our lives clearly are nowadays, I am definitely Lily van der Woodsen enough to win a rich-people’s smackdown.”

“I’m going to let that one go, just because I know it comes from your jealous place.” Rose told me, flicking me with the napkin she’d been holding. I laughed, dodging it. “You’re just mad that the world knows how hot I look in a swimsuit, after last month’s shoot. And I know something is up. I’ll get it out of you.”

“Good luck with that.” I grinned, stealing another strawberry and laughing as Rose looked like she was about to tackle me. “And who cares if you look better in a swimsuit - I’m a yoga dominatrix in bed according to you, remember?!”

Of course, Rose just laughed.

It didn’t take long for the rest of Rose’s guests to slowly disappear. Everyone wanted to look glamorous and rested for Christmas Day and after an hour or so, it was just us - the original group, but the extended edition.

We ended up sitting on the patio - or “porch”, as the new English-to-American dictionary in my head informed me - overlooking the sea, the wall-sized window of the lounge allowing us to watch as the children slept. Despite Niall’s initial worries that Hughie wouldn’t get along with Ed and Dany thanks to how close they were, the three of them were sprawled across one another on the sofa, asleep.

Dany’s arm was hanging off the sofa’s arm-rest, his fingers loosely linked with Ari’s hand through the bars of the cot Harry had brought down for Darcy and Ari to share.

Pathetic as it was, it made me feel… Happy, knowing how close Danyal and Zarina were. Everyone, including Aman, kept telling me that it didn’t mean it would last into adulthood, but… Well, how could it not? It had been some kind of miracle, having Danyal at all - and then having Zarina so healthy, especially considering the challenges she’d been put through before even being born. Dany had never become jealous of the attention Ari had gotten when she was born; if anything, even though he was barely older than he, he doted on her.

Even now, after being (fairly) happily married for four years - and having actually loved him for more than that, unlike the first time -, I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. My children adored one another, my husband and I didn’t hate each other and then there was the news I had to tell Rose…

I hadn’t expected this. I hadn’t expected this all to happen so quickly but now that it had, I didn’t regret it; which was strange, because before now, I’d been a barrel-full of regrets whenever things were moving too fast.

Apparently, my incessant need to be a control freak was subsiding. Ever so slightly.

I was - for lack of a better term - maturing. Supposedly. It was hard to believe when it was just Aman and I arguing over what channel to watch once Dany and Ari were in bed, but seeing my friends around me… We’d all matured.

Like Niall and Isolde. They were sitting beside Aman and I, Niall sitting on the floor with Isolde’s sock-clad legs resting over his shoulder. Although Izzy was just as fierce as ever, finally being with Niall meant she’d mellowed slightly - but only slightly. They balanced one another out, now. Isolde wasn’t as bitter about being thrust into the limelight, because she’d finally realised it wouldn’t affect Niall’s duties as a father. Even Aman had been ecstatic when they’d finally announced they were getting married - just after Isolde had found out she was pregnant with Hughie, at an intimate, fairy-tale like ceremony in Ireland with Alanna as a flower girl. We’d been invited - Niall had insisted there’d be no trouble with Zayn there - but it… It hadn’t felt right. As much of an amazing pair of friends Niall and Isolde had been to me, I couldn’t ruin the balance. Zayn had been there first.

Plus, you know, Aman still wanted to stick his head on a spike and attach it to the back of one of the cars.

What with Vivienne and Louis finally tying the lot - the boys truly were like dominos, once one got married and had children, the others followed -, Liam and Kara were the only ones who hadn’t gotten married. That wasn’t exactly surprising - even when Kara had found out she was pregnant with Charlie, she’d wondered if it was the right choice. Considering she was all too ready to give the rest of us much needed uncomfortable advice when necessary, it was nice to be able to pay her back a little - they hadn’t even been living with one another until Kara was at least four months pregnant, which was when Liam - and everyone else - put their foot down.

Still - seeing them snuggling together on the seat opposite made me smile. Liam had made some really sucky choices in his life, including forcing Kara into rehab and then forcing himself into her life, but by an amazing bout of luck it had worked out; even better, Kara wasn’t afraid to call Liam out on his crap. Of which there was plenty.

Harry and Rose didn’t count in my proud reminiscing. Harry and I had finally managed to get back on track after his… Behaviour following Rose’s accident and in a weird way, it had made us closer. It also made me tell him regularly that he was a giant loser who I’d happily rip apart if he ever hurt Rose, but I knew I didn’t have to say it. I’d seen Harry and Rose happen. And even though I still wasn’t sure if Harry had been the best choice out of him and Eddie, he had turned out to be the right one - he was here, with her and I knew better than anyone how Rose needed that.

“Thank you again, for inviting us to dinner tomorrow, Rose.” Liam sighed as he stretched. “I’m really looking forward to it. When you still hadn’t invited us at the beginning of the month, I was getting a bit worried.”

I snorted loudly at Kara’s mortified expression.

��I am so sorry about his atrocious manners.” Kara muttered, nudging Liam hard in the ribs. “I think what he means, Rose, is thank you for your wonderful hospitality.”

“Hospitality.” Rose smiled… Except that was not a happy smile. Oh, no, how much wine had she had? “You’d know all about that, too-”

“How about more cake?” I said loudly, ignoring Aman raise his eyebrows at my sudden enthusiasm. It wasn’t enough to stop everyone from noticing what Rose had said, but I was hoping it would lessen the impact. I started picking up some of the empty bottles and dishes on the table, mouthing Kara a sorry when I was opposite her. “Rose? You know I can’t be trusted in your kitchen alone. Come on, up you get.”

I glared at Harry as Rose silently strutted into the kitchen, looking annoyed. What the Hell was that? Had Rose not wanted Kara at the party? I understood Harry putting his foot down and saying she had to be - there was no way Liam could come and not Kara - but Rose was volatile. She didn’t like being forced to do things nowadays, even if she knew they were right.

One of the accident’s little side effects.

Rose was already sipping on a fresh glass of wine when I found her in the kitchen. Some of the cleaning team were already here, packing up dirty dishes from earlier in the night.

“What,” I said slowly. “Was that just now?”

“You didn’t let me finish.” Rose shrugged. “So it’s not like I said the whole of what I was going to say.”

“Everyone understood where you were going with it.” I sighed, handing the pile of dishes to one of the cleaners. I did not clean. Some things never changed. “I mean, a crack about-” I stepped closer and lowered my voice. Liam had worked hard to make Kara’s past disappear. “- her past career? Not cool, Rose.”

“What’s not cool is everyone, including you, acting like she’s one of us!” Rose protested, setting her wine glass down angrily. “Sure, Isolde is our friend and you’ve known Vivienne for a long time, but she’s practically a random stranger, sitting in my house - for what?”

“Rose.” Where had this come from? It was no secret that Rose wasn’t exactly warm with Kara, but she’d never been outright nasty, either. “We’ve known Kara for a long time-”

“Since when is how long you’ve known someone a good measurement?” Rose snapped. “You knew Zayn for less than a year when you guys shacked up. What difference does time make?”

… What?

I didn’t say anything for a few seconds - not just because I was stunned at the guerrilla tactics, but because something was wrong with what Rose had just said. Something that was setting off alarm bells.

No. No, I was imagining things - Rose was just angry and lashing out and so I was making excuses for her. I was being stupid.

Except…

I pushed it to the back of my mind, seeing how Rose’s eyes had widened at what she’d just said.

“I’m going to go back into the other room, before you say more stuff we both regret.” I said quietly. “And unless you want to drive your guests away before lunch tomorrow, I’d suggest you calm down before you go back in there, because nobody else is a fan of the bomb you just dropped.” I didn’t have to say the rest - that Rose was lucky Vivienne wasn’t there, because Vivienne would have lost it, or that Harry was aghast at her behaviour -, and so I left the kitchen, leaving Rose in there.

Something feels wrong! She shouldn’t - no. I wasn’t doing this. I wasn’t doubting her.

Rose came back out onto the deck a few minutes later, all smiles and apologising about her outburst - she claimed it was a stress-related event thanks to problems with the turkey. She even apologised to Kara; she “explained” how she meant Kara had been to so many parties and things, Rose had been expressing how flattered she was - but that, after I’d explained how it had come across, she was sorry if she’d been misunderstood.

It was a lame excuse. A ridiculously lame excuse. But everyone, including Kara, pretended to accept it because that made things less uncomfortable.

Rose and I didn’t talk for the rest of the night.

. . .

Christmas morning was like something out of Miracle on 54th Street. 

Harry and Rose had bought presents for Danyal and Zarina and left them under the tree, and of course we’d bought gifts for everyone before arriving. We’d stayed over - like we’d planned to, despite Aman being disgruntled at the thought of relying on anyone, regardless of how well he and Harry got along -, but the weird feeling at the back of my head was still there. Like I was deliberately missing something, like I was ignoring something huge.

I carried on ignoring it.

“Those PJs are hideous. Explain.” Rose laughed, handing me a mug of fresh coffee. Aman looked at me, confused, as I subtly put it beside me and it wasn’t hard to read his mind; she doesn’t know? 

“Hey, I dressed for comfort.” I protested, rather put out that nobody else loved my pyjamas - Aman’s Harvard sweatshirt and a pair of my comfiest grey joggers. “And are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help for later? Please say yes. Otherwise I’m stuck babysitting these two idiots.”

Aman and Harry snickered as they high-fived over my head.

“She’s just jealous of our love.” Harry told Aman happily.

“Unless you tell me what you’re hiding from me, it’s your punishment.” She shrugged evilly. I smiled - I wasn’t over what she’d said yesterday -, though promising myself I’d tell her tonight. I had to. One bitchy comment didn’t make her any less… Rose. “And anyway, I’ve told the others too, that everyone has to starve until it’s time to eat. Christmas dinner has come out fabulous.”

We all stopped as Dany and Ed started to wave their arms excitedly at their newest present - ones, I realised instantly, Harry and Aman had chosen for them. Matching water pistols, in loud colours. The boys were already making shooting noises and the toy wasn’t even out of its packaging yet.

Darcy and Ari watched them from where they sat in their fathers’ laps, snuggling close under the same blanket. 

I smiled as Danyal tripped over Ed’s legs, to squirt Ari in the face with water. Ari hated water in her face - she screamed blue murder whenever I washed her hair. Considering I was the most hated person on the planet when I washed her face, her outraged giggle in response to the water pistol was almost offensive.

Almost.

Darcy, on the other hand, ripped the pistol out of Ed’s hands and attacked his face with it.

Ah, the girls. 

Ari giggled loudly at Ed’s outraged face, watching carefully as Dany yanked Ed’s T-shirt to his face and told him “wipe it”. So mature, just at three.

“What’re you thinking?” Aman asked me quietly, unnoticed as Rose and Harry discussed something between themselves over our heads. 

“Nothing.” I smiled, attacking Ari’s cheek with kisses and laughing loudly as she pulled my face down and attempted to do the same thing back. It wasn’t quite perfect, but it was definitely good enough for me - her skin was always so soft, but her strength always surprised me. “I’m just… I’m just glad that we have such a big family.”

. . .

The rest of the day passed in a lazy, festive blur.

I, as tradition dictated, was amazed at the seamlessness of Rose’s efficiency. There was officially no room for my kitchen ineptitude and even though that meant I spent the day becoming increasingly freaked out at how Rose and I had given birth to boys who were essentially younger, more mischievous versions of their fathers, I did feel kind of guilty that I wasn’t useful at all.

Not guilty enough to actually help bark out orders at the catering staff, like Rose was, but enough to prove I had a conscience.

I was in charge, with Harry, of getting the children ready - that was an experience. Harry had lovingly tied Darcy’s long brown hair into a little bun and had spent the entire time grinning at her, as she stepped into her sparkly red dress.

Ari, on the other hand, had kicked and screamed at the prospect of wearing anything remotely feminine. She hated dresses. I was sure she partially thought she was a boy like her brother - Dany was in black trousers and a white shirt and Ed was even wearing a little tie -, but Aman put it down to Ari “being confident in her femininity”. 

All that meant to me, was that Ari only ended up wearing the Dolce & Gabbana printed dress Harry had bought her for Christmas because Darcy pointed out that hers was still more sparkly and Harry promised Ari she could wear one of Ed’s hats with the dress.

Ari currently was obsessed with hats. She wore her father’s Yankees cap to bed.

Surely Dany should have been the more difficult one? But no. Dany was laid-back when it came to clothes and getting dressed. His only demands were Batman underwear and vests that weren’t itchy - he had sensitive skin -, but other than that… He didn’t care what he was wearing. But my little girl? No. No, the only dress she’d ever willingly bought in the two years she’d spent on this planet, was a dress that was covered in comic strips.

Was I meant to be proud or embarrassed at how much she was like me?

Harry did Ari’s hair too, which was a miracle in itself. He managed to brush it through and pull it into a neat pony tail - complete with a red rose clip on the side. If I’d have tried that, Zarina probably would have bitten me.

“You know Rose is going to have something to say about that outfit?” Harry grinned, seeing what I was wearing when I finally got dressed.

I was wearing a beige cashmere jumper that did not at all cling, the same black skinny jeans from the day before and a pair of beige loafers, a long, thick black cardigan thrown on top.

“This isn’t trampy!” I protested, allowing Harry to stand behind me and latch my necklace for me. “It’s elegant! And I’m wearing jewellery, so it’s still festive, too.”

“This is to do with what you’re hiding, isn’t it?” Harry asked - and I laughed because really, when was Harry ever that observant? “Your hair looks nice.”

I’d left it out and done nothing to it, including brushing, but just told him thanks.

Everything was lovely. Louis and Vivienne briefly Skyped from Mexico to wish everyone a merry Christmas and Zayn text the others. Isolde’s cravings for cinnamon were quenched with Rose’s special “mulled apple juice”.

Everything was lovely, right up until when it wasn’t.

“Are you sure you don't need a hand with the burning pud?” Kara asked Rose, as we all waited around for dessert. “Trust me, I can handle a blowtorch. Occupational hazard.” She joked.

She wasn’t being malicious, or goading Rose. Kara was just… Like that. She hit things over the head and dealt with them, she joked her way out of awkward situations. We’d spent enough time talking for me to know that Kara found it difficult to not just punch someone as means of effective communication. This was her, trying.

But it backfired. Spectacularly.

Everyone laughed, except Rose. Even Aman had snorted into his glass and he made a conceited effort to not acknowledge Kara’s past, most likely because his affinity with prostitutes (that sounded so wrong) wasn’t something he planned on making public knowledge.

“Occupational hazard?” Rose repeated, looking… Furious. The alarm bells in my head got louder. “Considering you’re so proud of your career, why don’t you just come out and say the rest of the men here would make good clients? That’s what you’re thinking, right? I mean, when you talk about occupational hazards, you fail to mention the genital herpes or whatever else you’ve got, do you?” Rose laughed once, darkly. I… We were all too shocked to move. “Then again, I suppose pretending being a slut is an actual profession helps you to pretend you’re not really just some washed-up crack whore.”

Everyone stopped. Everyone, except me - because at the crack whore part, I had to shut my eyes and pretend I wasn’t seeing the smug expression on Rose’s face, right before she calmly walked out.

What - what - had possessed Rose to just… To… Lash out like that? What had she been thinking?!

I wasn’t the only one thinking it.

“Is that some kind of fucking joke?” Liam said angrily, staring around the table. I looked at Harry, but he was staring after Rose, his expression horrified. “Does someone want to tell me what’s going on?”

“She’s probably just stressing out over dinner.” Kara said quietly - and that somehow made everything worse, that she, out of everyone, was the one jumping to Rose’s defence. “I should have kept my mouth shut, really. I knew she was upset yesterday and I pushed the dark humour-”

“This isn’t your fault!” Liam snapped - before looking at me. “She’s your best friend! Want to tell us what’s going on, or what?”

“Hey, it’s not Soph’s fault!” Kara told him, looking annoyed. Oh, great. Not only was Rose calling people crack-whores under her own roof, but apparently now I was inadvertently causing a domestic. “I’m Soph’s friend and she’s never-”

“We thought Rose was your friend too, but she’s turned out to be a grade-A bitch-”

“Alright!” Harry shouted loudly. “That’s my wife you’re talking about, mate, do you want to calm down?”

And just like that, everyone was arguing.

This was insane. Insane. Rose didn’t - Rose didn’t like confrontation! She may have developed more of a spine since the accident, but she didn’t like causing trouble and she certainly did not enjoy her parties being given a bad reputation. This made no sense. This made no sense, how had I missed her freaking out like this?!

You didn’t. You knew something was wrong, but you ignored it.

This was my fault.

“Everyone, just calm down-” Niall was saying patiently, but it wasn’t working. “Look, why don’t we let Harry talk to Rose, while we cool off in here and see what’s happening next-”

“I think I should go.” Kara said firmly. “That’s what should happen next. I was the one who started it, I don’t want to ruin what’s otherwise been a lovely Christmas-”

“We’re not going until she apologises!” Liam spluttered, now in full mouthing-off mode. Wonderful. Just wonderful. “Soph, are you going to sort this out or what?”

“That has to be the second or third time you’ve said that.” Aman said quietly, looking up at Liam with an annoyed expression. I poked his leg under the table. No. No. Now was not the time for his overprotectiveness to rise up; particularly when, ever since the… Incident when I was pregnant with Ari, he’d had a much lower tolerance for any of One Direction. “Has it ever occurred to you that it’s not Soph who’s responsible for Rose’s actions?”

“Well then, do you want to tell me who is?!” Liam was still shouting, but he seemed a bit… Calmer, at seeing Aman’s expression. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing. The effect of Aman’s silent but scary temper was not something I needed to worry about right now.

Aman pretended to think, pointedly ignoring my incessant poking. Rude.

“Rose, maybe?”

“Liam, will you please just shut up and calm down?” Kara groaned loudly, shoving him away from where he was towering over the table. What was going on with Rose? What was so bad, that she couldn’t just tell someone? Me? “Manny, Soph, I’m sorry, none of this is your fault - none of this is anyone’s fault! Rose has the right to not want an ex-hooker in her home and honestly, if you guys think I haven’t heard stuff like this before, you’re underestimating how good I was at my job.”

“How are you still cracking jokes right now?” I was trying not to smile. How could Rose not like Kara? This was exactly why everyone else did! Kara was covering for Rose’s almost unforgivable blunder, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Please don’t leave. Let me talk to Rose and find out what’s really going on.” I squeezed Kara’s hand. She’d been such a good friend to me, for ever since I’d known her��

And just like that, I was angry. How could Rose do this? How dare she? She’d never been jealous or possessive before and if this truly was about me accepting Kara as a friend like she’d said, then she was insane. Kara had been there for me since the beginning. She hadn’t expected me to hate her because of my faith or whatever else; damn it, she’d been there for me on my wedding day when Rose hadn’t! On the day of my reception, Kara had kept me calm in a way nobody else could have - not even Rose, who had been too busy playing house.

That’s unfair. You forgave her back then, you can’t take it back now.

Yeah - not unless I’d never forgiven her in the first place.

How much did Rose think she could get away with? After the accident, I’d kept justifying her erratic behaviour as her way of coping after the accident, but how could I keep saying it was okay? This was not okay!

“Kara, sweetheart, I’m so sorry about what Rose said. You know we don’t see you like that, you’re just as much family as anyone else here is.” Harry sighed, glancing at me with false smile; play along. “Probably more than this one, since she’s so posh these days.”

“Whatever.” Kara muttered, shooting me a grin. “These peasants just don’t know how to deal with upper classes, huh, Soph?”

I grinned, feeling sick. What the Hell had Rose been playing at, lashing out at Kara like that?

“I’m just going to go and check on Rose, see what’s really going on.” I told everyone as I got up, squeezing Aman’s shoulder on my way. He understood what that meant - keep it together here. Sometimes, this whole soulmate thing wasn’t such a giant inconvenience. “And Liam - just pour yourself another drink and calm down, alright?”

“Yeah.” Liam muttered, letting Niall firmly push him back into his chair. Thankfully, he shot Aman an apologetic look. “Sorry, everyone.”

“You can’t be perfect all the time.” Aman joked, now apparently silently communicating with Niall.

“Yeah.” Niall added. “Makes the rest of us look bad.”

That was the last thing I heard before going into the kitchen - and finding Rose calmly looking out of the window, drinking a glass of wine.

I shut the door behind me.

“What the fuck,” I asked slowly. “Was that? Where did that even come from?!”

“I’m sick of her acting like being a whore is such an accomplishment.” Rose shrugged. She could pretend to be calm all she wanted - I knew her too well. I could see she was still livid. What kind of a best friend would I be if I didn’t? “I would have thought you would have backed me up and understood that, but apparently not.” I stared, speechless, as Rose looked at me disapprovingly. “I heard you out there, with Manny and Harry, covering for me. I don’t need you three to cover for me.”

“When you drop crap like that, you do.” I laughed, though not at all because I found this funny. “You invited her here, Rose! And even if you didn’t really want to, since when were you so… It’s the holiday season. You love the holiday season.”

“Oh, of course I do!” Rose suddenly shouted, making me jump as she finally turned to face me. “Of course I love the festive season! I hold Christmas every year and play happy families and you know what? You’re right, I do love that part. But what I don’t love is everyone pretending everything is just dandy! Everyone is pretending what she is doesn’t matter, that how she met Liam doesn’t matter, but when I was deciding between guys - and not giving them hand-jobs in alleyways during it all -, I was the bad guy! Somehow, when Liam was being a shitty boyfriend, I was still the whore - and she is, and what, she gets nothing?”

We didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Rose was breathing heavily and staring at me with wide eyes, like she’d said something wrong - but she hadn’t - except she had, because something felt wrong, that feeling at the back of my mind was back -

Oh, Soph, you idiot.

“… You remember.” I whispered, feeling my heart begin to thrum in my throat. I tried to swallow down the feeling - to calm down. “You… You remember.”

Yesterday. Yesterday, when she’d mentioned Zayn - it had seemed wrong because it was wrong. That was before the accident. Rose didn’t remember anything between leaving Australia and the night of the accident, when Harry had told her they were together, when he’d lied; but I’d… I’d thought it was fine. I’d thought what she’d said about Zayn was fine, because I was so used to Rose’s voice talking about my first marriage that I’d forgotten she wasn’t the same Rose anymore. 

“No.” Rose muttered… But her voice was shaking. Oh, my God, she remembers. “No, no, I don’t-”

“Yes, you do!” I argued. It made sense now. It made sense! I’d gotten so used to lying to Rose about her past, because I’d had to, that hearing the truth after so long had been like… Like taking a break and only a small part of my brain had noticed. “Yes, you do! Rose, this is - this is huge! How long have you remembered?” Why was this being hidden? This was amazing news! We’d all thought it would never happen, this was great… Except it wasn’t, it wasn’t, because Rose looked… Guilty. Or at least like she was trying to hide that she felt guilty. “Oh my God, Rose, how long have you remembered?” I asked again, but this time, differently. I wasn’t excited this time.

“You don’t get to judge me.” Rose finally muttered, stabbing her finger in my direction. “You… You don’t get to judge me!”

“How long, Rose?!”

“I didn't go away because I had some kind of depressed break down, okay!” Rose suddenly shouted. Oh my God. Oh my God, she’d remembered and I hadn’t even noticed. “I know you love to think of me as this depressed loser who you need to constantly save, but-”

“What? Are you insane?”

“- I remembered! I was playing with Darcy and she was crying because Harry wasn’t around, like always-”

“She’s a child, Rose!” I snapped, seeing where this was going. Rose had been so excited to have a girl, so excited - because she saw her as a substitute, as the universe’s way of compensating her for a mother and sister that didn’t care. I’d warned her, I’d told her she couldn’t think about it like that - Darcy was a person! If we hadn’t learnt that everyone was a real person that we couldn’t just know inside out, what the Hell had we learnt after all of this time? “You do understand the concept of a child, don’t you? She’s innocent!”

“She made me remember!” Rose suddenly screamed, making me jump back. “Do you not get that? That little bitch-”

“Rose!”

“- she made me remember! And you know what? I was better off forgetting!” Rose hissed. I’d… I wanted to believe it was the drink, that all of the wine had gotten to her head, but I knew that wasn’t true. This was years’ worth of venom bubbling to the surface, venom I thought she’d trusted me enough to share in the beginning. But she hadn’t. She’d lied.

Like she was lying now.

“Two years. Two years.” I said, finally realising the maths. When she’d went away. When we’d all thought she’d lost hope, when I’d thought she was mourning. 

This was huge. Huge. And I had so many questions. Did she remember everything? Had it come all at once, or was she still piecing things together? Why had she hid it, when had she decided to? 

How could she have?

“Does Harry know?” I demanded. Harry. Harry. Oh, God. He’d… He thought he’d cheated her somehow, cheated himself into having a happiness he didn’t deserve. After Eddie had died - or gone away to -, he’d taken that all on himself, blaming Rose’s rejection of Eddie on himself. He’d been struggling with that ever since, he still was - but Rose knew? “He - he’s taken on your guilt about Eddie! He blames himself!”

“And there it is.” Rose muttered cruelly, staring at me up and down. “Perfect little Soph, upset because she’s losing control of micro-managing my life.”

No. No. I knew exactly what she was talking about and she did not get to say that to me.

“I did what I had to, as your friend.” I told her seriously. No. No. There was absolutely no way in Hell that she was putting that on me, acting as if I did what I did for kicks. “I did what I did because the doctors told me you were at risk and because I had to deal with damage control, when Harry and Ryan and everyone else panicked-”

“Like that’s the only control you have over my life!” Rose snorted. “What about my marriage, hmm? What about the fact that ever since before Harry and I got together, you’ve always been in the middle, you’re always acting mediator when nobody even wants you there?”

I couldn’t help it. As much as I told myself I’d changed, that I was more mature and mellow, that was a load of crap. I was not taking anyone’s crap ever again - I’d made that promise to myself a long time ago.

And Rose did not get a pass card just because she was feeling sassy.

“Well according to you, I’ve always been there - so it’s not hard to imagine your marriage falling apart without me being there to pick up the pieces of your dramas!” I snapped back instantly, not even having to think about it.

I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to have this conversation, this argument, with Rose. There were too many things for us to be bitter about.

But it felt really good to just say it. 

“This is exactly what I mean.” Rose laughed - and it wasn’t scary to hear anymore, it was pissing me off. “Perfect little Soph, with her perfect little life, looking down on everyone else. You act like such an angel-”

“No need to act like an angel, when we know I’m a queen.” It was meant to be a joke - to calm things down, because logic told me we needed to - but it came out more serious than I intended. Not that, at this point, I cared as much as I could have. “Just because you are too wrapped up in pretending to be someone else, doesn’t mean everyone else is as screwed up!”

“I’m not pretending!” Rose gasped. Seriously? Seriously? “I am being the person I am, the person I was meant to be - before everyone screwed me over and took advantage of me trying to be everyone’s friend!”

“Such a victim, all of the time!” I yelled. “Do you ever realise how self-involved you are? How pathetic it is? Your problems revolve around which boy to choose - and you act like you’re hard done by, when you’re the one who put yourself in that situation!” I groaned. This was ridiculous. This was just insanely ridiculous and not because of this conversation. “You can’t run from your feelings, Rose! You can’t pretend to not feel guilty! You - you-” I had to take a second, to calm myself down. I had to say this. I had to say this properly, for his sake. “- you’ve been lying, for two years about having no memory. Eddie wasn’t dead then. He was ill, but not dead and he deserved to at least know you chose to stay with Harry! You made him give up!”

“Don’t you dare-” My mouth fell open as Rose shoved me angrily. She was not serious. “Blame me for his death. That’s on you. You were so eager to focus on my problems and make yourself look like the golden girl in comparison, that you didn’t know how to be a good friend.”

In fairness, the moment Rose had touched me, I’d began to have an out-of-body experience. I wasn’t in control anymore - not the so-called mature, mellow Soph who balanced out the power-hungry rage monster that had been inside me since God knows when. I wasn’t in control anymore.

I couldn’t take responsibility for what I did next.

Without even thinking about it, I was standing to my full height, glaring up at Rose with a hatred I’d never expected to feel towards her. I was fuming. She hadn’t just lied to me - this wasn’t, despite what she wanted to think, about my bruised ego. She’d lied to everyone - to everyone, to all of the people who’d weaved their lives into the giant lie that had come from us trying to protect her.

How dare she?

“I’m not scared of you.” Rose told me quietly, glaring down at me.

I stepped closer.

“Maybe you should be.” I muttered. “You are not the person I thought you were. My friend isn’t here anymore.”

Rose shrugged. It didn’t even bother her. It didn’t even bother her.

“Whether you think I’m a sucky person or not is your problem, but you owe it to me to keep your mouth shut.” Rose told me, making me gawp at her. Really? I owed her something? She was a lying, conniving bitch who had been manipulating us all for the past two years - and that was a long time to maintain a lie this huge - and I owed her something?

It wasn’t just the anger. I didn’t honestly believe I was just angry. I was hurt, too - betrayed. She’d never told me. She’d never told me about her memories coming back, or even how she felt about me interfering in her life. She hadn’t trusted me enough to tell me the truth when I’d only ever bore my soul to her and that betrayal hurt me so much right now, I wanted to lash out and hurt her - because it was easier to deal with whatever nasty things I’d said, rather than accept that I didn’t think I’d ever be able to trust her again.

“You’re lying. To your friends - forget that, to your husband.” I shook my head. “Harry’s my friend, too. I’m not going to lie to him out of a sick sense of loyalty.”

“Yes, you are!” Rose shouted again, pulling me by the arm before I could leave. I swatted her off. I could hear voices outside the door - clearly, they’d heard shouting and Harry was worried. Hearing the voices too, Rose began to hiss. “Yes, you are. I kept your secret when you were pregnant and you didn’t want Zayn to know, at the risk of my relationship with Harry. I didn’t tell anyone you fell in love with Aman when you were still married to someone else, I have kept your secrets for years when I could have screwed you over the entire time - so you owe me.”

Just like that, something… Left. Something flew right out of me, something that suddenly made it so much easier for me to no longer care.

It’s like flipping a light switch. Just like before.

“So you’re not asking me as a friend.” I nodded, finally understanding. “You’re blackmailing me, as a person. As someone in your way.”

Rose shrugged, her arms folded over her chest.

Wow. Wow, I really hadn’t seen this coming.

“Fine. I’ll cover for you. If I’m asked, I won’t lie, but I’ll cover for you.” I promised, feeling… nothing. Empty. Rose wasn’t my best friend any more - and if I was being honest, she hadn’t been for a long time.

“Good.” Rose said primly, making me roll my eyes as I went to turn away. “And get out of my life, while you’re at it.”

I thought about that for a grand total of, ooh, a second?

“No.” I laughed. “No way in Hell. Just because you’re too weak to admit today, or even tomorrow or the day after that, you need me. You called your three year old girl a bitch today, Rose.” I shook my head. God. God, how had she gotten so twisted? And coming from me, that was saying something. “Just because you’ve forgotten to be a good friend, doesn’t mean I have. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Harry is my husband and Darcy is my daughter!”

“Darcy may be your daughter, but Harry was my friend long before you decided to mess him around!” I snapped. “I’m already lying to him for you, that’s all you’re getting from me.”

Harry had just stepped in, when Rose said it.

“God, I hate you, Soph.”

Only Harry saw how I closed my eyes. In defeat. Because I knew, better than anyone, exactly what she was like - and when she meant it.

I had been so wrong about us.

“What the Hell happened?” Harry asked, looking between us with wide eyes.

“It was my fault. Rose was angry about me not telling her what was going on.” I forced a smile, tried not to notice the lie - lie number one, the beginning of the end of our friendship; and no, that wasn’t just dramatics. Unless Rose told Harry that she had her memories back, our friendship was just going to keep breaking down; and it didn’t look like she was going to be telling the truth anytime soon. “She doesn’t approve of the news.”

“What news?” Harry looked more confused than ever.

I turned to Rose, hoping that, even if she wasn’t the person I knew any more, the next bit stung.

“That I’m pregnant again.” I said, the news sounding… Boring now. Who even cared? “I wanted to tell my best friend, but apparently it didn't quite work that way.”

Rose barely flinched.

“Like I just told her,” Rose said to Harry coolly, staring down her nose at me. Wow, she really wanted to stop doing that before I backhanded her. “She should stop popping them out so quickly. Someone might think she was doing it for the wrong reasons - you know how people have babies just to trap their husbands.”

Ouch. That one hurt.

Was this what I was in for? Jabs about my past from her, constant reminders I was keeping the secret of a clear sociopath?

“Sorry, Harry.” I forced a smile, told myself to play along. I wasn’t going to freak out in front of her. I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. “I think I should go.”

“But-” Harry stopped as he hugged me tightly. “Ignore her, Soph, this is great news. You don’t have to go-”

“Trust me, Harry.” I smiled genuinely this time. He deserved more than this - from me and Rose. “I do.”

It was just then that we heard Darcy calling for her mum.

“For God’s sake, Harry, go and deal with her.” Rose snapped, rubbing her temples.

“I’ll go.” I said, before either one of them could say anything. God. God, I wanted to hit her. I wanted to hit her, but I wanted to shake her at the same time and beg her to be the person I’d always thought she was. “And… Listen, I was thinking - send Darcy over for a sleepover sometime soon. Ari and Darcy don’t see one another enough.”

Darcy shouldn’t have to deal with a mother like that.

Maybe Rose was right. Maybe I was an interfering bitch who couldn’t keep her nose to herself - but that was exactly what had gotten Rose happily married to the guy of her dreams. I’d kept my end of the bargain, I’d become the journalist and introduced her to One Direction. Apparently, that was all she’d wanted.

But I’d helped her get her ending. So whether she liked it or not, I was going to make sure Darcy had a chance at that, at least. I knew Rose and her family, I could see the signs - Rose was turning into her mother.

As I hugged Harry goodbye at the doorway, ignoring Kara’s worried expression, I promised to keep an eye on Darcy. For my friend’s sake.

The one I didn’t have any more. 

[ambarto]

Headcanons for Maglor’s and Curufinwe’s wives

Don’t you guys just love how so many of “canon” female characters in the Silm end up being basically your own OCs? Anyways, pretty much what it says on the tin, my Feanorian wives OCs. A little bit of these headcanons are in my fic Much, more, less, nothing already, but I’m gonna expand on pretty much whatever my thoughts are. Very long post under the cut (and I sure hope the cut is working because if it isn’t this is gonna be long to scroll through).

Maglor’s wife - Vílerë

- The name for this girl is my own probably kinda sloppy work. I found in some Quenya dictionaries the word “vílë” which means “gentle breeze”, and it fit perfectly within my vision of her. The ending -rë is feminine and can denote an agental meaning, making the name mean “[girl] who makes a gentle breeze”, or something along those lines. I want to point out I have never studied Quenya at all and so this goes off entirely on various dictionaries I’ve been through.

- Vílerë is the girl’s mother-name, and it refers to two things. The first, is that she was born with very weak vocal chords, meaning her voice always sounds barely louder than a whisper. The second, is that she is also a very skilled flute player.

- Her parents are Noldor, but her grandmother is Teleri. Vílerë’s eyes are dark brown, which comes from her Teleri grandmother. Her hair is black, and she wears it long and plainly braided. Her skin is a light brown color. She’s not considered exceptionally beautiful, but not ugly, either. By Noldor standards, she’s cute, but in a little plain way, and a little on the shorter side.

- She’s a quiet girl, she doesn’t speak much. Partially it’s because of her voice, but it’s mostly just her personality. She doesn’t like drawing attention to herself, and she prefers being alone or with a few good friends rather than in the middle of a crowd. Because of this, she also doesn’t play her flute a lot in public, although she is known for being one of the best players and her music is loved by anyone who hears it. With those who know her, she’s kind and sweet, full of smiles and with a sharp wit you would not guess at first.

- While quiet and introverted, she’s got a strong will, and she will let people clearly if there is something that displeases her. She picks her words carefully, and if angry she’s good at getting her point across in the most cutting ways.

- She and Maglor met through music, and spent a great deal of time playing and composing together. She understood his more introspective moments better than most others, and she was drawn to his more caring side. She was good at getting him out of any bad mood and at humoring him when he got involved in some kind of musical competition with others; and he in turn helped her get out of her shell a little, but never tried to force her to come out on the spotlights with him. She took a liking to him from the start, although she sometimes rolled her eyes when his Feanorian pride showed through a bit too much.

- While still deeply in love, she did not follow him in exile. She did not agree with the Kinslaying, especially being part Teleri herself, and thought that it was absurd to do all of this just because of some rocks, no matter how beautiful they were. She didn’t want to leave her husband, and was also quite curious to see what was on the other side of the sea, but in the end she stayed in Valinor with her family.

- Other than music, she also enjoyed poetry and theatre. She had an appreciation for painting, but she never really learnt how to do it, and was more content with just looking at art rather than creating it. She also knew a bit about woodworking, because it was her parents’ profession, but she never really liked it. She enjoyed traveling too, and seeing new landscapes, and after marrying Maglor took her around to see all the cool places he had been to with his father and brothers.

- Some people had to say about her and Maglor marrying, because Vílerë lived in a village outside of Tirion and her family was one of the common folk. Some particularly vicious ones also complained that she didn’t look beautiful enough, but they had all learnt very well to not badmouth the beauty of the wife of someone of Feanor’s line. She was honestly more annoyed by receiving all that attention than by the negative comments in themselves, because she hated the positive attention too.

- She has one younger sister, who married before her and had two children. Vílerë herself married late in life compared to the average, although she was still a couple centuries younger than her husband. Out of her in-laws, the people she got along with better were Maedhros and Nerdanel, and she also was on friendly terms with Fingon and Finrod. While she did not have any quarrels with Feanor or with Maglor’s more outgoing brothers, she did find them exhausting in the long run, and better dealt with in small doses.

- While she grew to resent the Valar, although not as strongly as her husband’s family, when she was younger she liked to spend time in Lorien, and the quiet presence of Irmo and Este.

Curufin’s wife - Vanien

- Her name I took from RealElvish.net because I got lazy, although for some reason it’s not listed there anymore? For some reason? The closest it lists are Vanie and Vaniel, idk why they got rid of the specific one I used. Just my luck. Anyways, Vanien comes from “vane”, which means “fair or beautiful”.

- Her name says all about how she looks. She is the picture of Noldor standards of beauty. She has black hair and strikingly blue eyes, her skin is pale, and her facial features look like they could be put on a statue. She’s the kind of woman who could compete in Tirion Next Top Model, if they had it.

- Her family is entirely Noldor, going back all the way to Cuivienen, and fairly respected. They’re not nobles, but her parents are very good healers, which in Valinor mostly meant they were spectacular surgeons who could fix any idiot who had gotten attacked by a wild boar or something of the sorts. She was herself a healer, and very skilled.

- She and Curufin met though work as well. She had been developing a theory that perhaps one could enchant jewelry to give it properties that would make healing and recovery faster, and she had decided to go look for a good smith who could help her with it. It turned out making that kind of magical jewelry was extremely difficult, but she did get a husband out of the deal.

- She’s a city girl and at ease in the middle of the hustle of Tirion. She’s got a charming smile and she’s an excellent conversationalist. She’s a good girl, but she’s also got a rather competitive and petty streak, and if someone pisses her off she will get herself a nice revenge. Nothing truly bad, of course, but she’s not above turning her husband’s hair green if he acts too annoying. She’s more mischievous than harmful, however.

- Her main flaw is probably that she is a bit vain. She’s very aware of her beauty, and will do her best to flaunt it. She has excellent taste in fashion and hairstyles, and a husband who can craft her some of the most amazing jewelry one could think of. If she goes to a party, one can bet she’ll make sure to be the most breath stoppingly beautiful person in the room.

- She’s more outgoing than her husband, but she doesn’t mind that he sometimes ends up working on a project for days on end, although it does annoy her, as a wife and a healer, how he sometimes ends up forgetting to eat and rest. He often looks for her input when coming up with a design for something. Bitching about people who annoyed them is a bonding activity for them, but of course not their only topic of conversation. They like to go out on rides together, either along or with Curufin’s family. They are both ridiculously proud spouses, Vanien is extremely proud of her handsome, clever, and talented husband, and Curufin is extremely proud of his beautiful, smart, and talented wife. They’re also a good match when it comes to being stubborn.

- Celebrimbor is the only son they had, because Vanien struggled to get pregnant and carry the child to term. Sadly ironical, for a healer, and she was very protective of her son once he was born. She was a caring mother, and the kind who likes to cheer her brooding son by tickling him until he’s out of whatever tantrum he was throwing.

- Officially, it’s said Curufin’s wife stayed in Valinor, but I like to think that she came to Beleriand with him and Celebrimbor. She was a headstrong woman, who had her husband’s resentment towards the Valar and almost enough pride to match him. She did not directly participate in the Kinslaying, but cured the Noldor who had been wounded in it, and got on the ships with her family. Unfortunately, she ended up being killed in the Dagor-nuin-Giliath, and because of her rebellion she was held in Mandos until after the end of the First Age.

- She gets along well with most of Curufin’s family, especially Celegorm and the Ambarussa, and bonded with Feanor by answering all his questions about the body as well as she could. She became good friends with Aredhel, too.

[eyeslikefoxglove]

Episode 20 - ChenQing Syndrome & Tangents everywhere

Hello cupcakes, and welcome to episode 20. How’s everyone doing? I hope y’all are as safe and can be. I’m pretty sure I need to sleep for at least 24h because I am exhausted so forgive me if I’m suuuuuper low energy.

On another news I am officially mosquito bait. Yay.

I don’t know if I said so in the previous commentary but I Do Not Vibe with eyeballs so yeah.

Speaking of eyeballs, here is what happened the last time my mum and me consumed a medical drama in public. We decided to go to the cinema to watch The Physician, and in the intro credits there is a tray with a pair of eyeballs by a scalpel and my mum, who’s a GP goes (without lowering her voice of course):

“Those are not human eyeballs, too big, they’re probably cow’s”

I swear the whole row just turned around to give us A Look and I haven’t felt more like a serial killer since I started giggling (again in the cinema) watching Death Proof. So there you have it, I lose my shit when tv doctors do bad medicine and she makes ominous comments that make me want to explain to everyone that no, we don’t dismember people for fun.

Listen, necromancy is whatever, but “Imperio-Ing” people into harming themselves and making them hallucinate by playing the flute is what would freak me the fuck out about WWX ngl. I mean, I know he’s a good egg, but he’s Havana Syndrome-ing this bitch and that gives me chills.

Oh I love this shot of one WWX’s eyes cast in light. Cinematography on point as always.

Ok ok ok I am going to go on a terrible tangent in here. I know that in the book shit was even worse, with the cannibalism and JiaoJiao shoving a whole chair leg down her throat but there’s something that’s always caught my attention. If I’m not mistaken she bit off WC’s dick. Now call it a coincidence that WWX took advantage of, but, because I’m The Worst ™️ it made me think. If I’ve learnt something about Criminal Minds is that you don’t go after someone’s bits unless:

a) you’re a sexual sadist and can’t get off any other way (which WWX is not nor is he killing for sexual gratification)

b) those bits have gone near you when you didn’t want them to and it is revenge.

I mean, same way I didn’t want to make you wonder what WWX ate trapped in a mass grave for three months I don’t want to make you think about this but I need to get if off my chest.

Oh hey, now that I think about it the cannibalism could also be personal because again, they yeeted him into a palace full of corpses where “nothing grows”. God I hate my own brain sometimes.

Did these two just walk up to the front door of the Supervisory Office? I mean, the guards are all dead so it is fine, but that’s one shit strategy.

... that’s one ineffective way of tying a hangman’s noose.

JC IS BEING SOFT WITH WQ OMG!

YOU ARE BREAKING MY HEART. STOP. (Watch me go read ChengQing fics after this is done)

JC: is there anyone more wicked that the Wen Clan?

Me: *takes a deep breath* how much time do you have?

Gotta give it to WWX, the boy knows how to set the mood.

Yup yup I’m cackling.

Go my creepy necromancer son!

(Once again, I cheer when someone gets shanked)

(Once again, assume I’m screaming about the cinematography)

Bless LWJ’s brain cell, I remember when I first watched this being super worried about these two also getting ChenQing Syndrome.

So is the Red Woman an actual entity or is she an anthropomorphization of what he’s doing to them? Am I assigning too much Poe to this scene?

JC and LWJ straight up jumped through the ceiling to save WWX I love them. (But think, if they’ve been slightly slower and WZL had realised there wasn’t a core to melt, oh the delicious delicious canon divergences we could have)

Now that’s an effective noose.

THAT HUG WAS TOO SHORT! AND WWX WAS GOING TO RECIPROCATE BUT JC STOPED NOOOOOO. (Again JC looks like he gives the best hugs)

Misdirecting WWX is misdirecting.

Aaaaaand you can see the PTSD start to rear its ugly heard the second they want to know where he was the last three months.

WWX: *starts spinning bullshit*

JC: *relaxes his frown and eyerolls*

Aw bb he was really worried. I mean, it is still misdirection but I can see how JC inexperienced as he is with trauma (and dealing with his own) could interpret that as his baby brother just being himself.

Aw they’re falling back into being their soft yet prickly selves I die.

Nope LWJ! I know that you’re worried and shit but the last thing you want to do to someone with WWX’s trauma is trigger their fight or flight response by asking questions and making them sound like accusations.

(Also, interlude to say, WWX seems super reluctant to admit he fucked with the talismans, which fair enough, I’m thinking his trauma conga line is probably making him think he’ll get in trouble if he admits it or they’ll start distrusting him. But really looks like simple curiosity to me)

I’m just gonna scream incoherently at my screen because they are doing it fucking wrong.

Me with other fandoms: KISS GODDAMNIT

Me with this one: COMMUNICATE

DRAG HIM (ok GusuLan) WWX. I know LWJ only wants to make sure WWX is safe and healthy and loved but listen, he doesn’t have the full picture, he is still somewhat naive about you know, the amount his idols can disappoint him. Yes, it is exacerbated by WWX raising his hackles and his overall paranoia but; GusuLan is where the Sect Leader and the second in command (I know Netflix calls LQR “grandmaster” but I also know the translation is incorrect) decided that lashing their own family was an appropriate corrective. I’m not even going to go into the genocide victims or the reasons for the punishment but yeah, lashing. It hasn’t happened yet, but the potential is there, and as much of a self-sacrificing idiot as WWX is he must have some survival instincts if he lived in the streets for years, I’m not saying they don’t get negated when someone he loves is in danger, but you know, they have to be there. I think his brain has been *Kill Bill sirens* about GusuLan for a long time and now the guy who lives and breathes by their rules wants him to go back? Yeah I absolutely think it is valid that he thought the “help” he was gonna get would be horrifying punishment to “put him in the right path”. Do I see a fuck ton of parallels btw GusuLan and abusive Bible-thumping religious fanatical groups? Ok yeah, my b probably, but I Can’t Unsee.

And again, I know LWJ just wants to keep him safe and I know he’s an awkward potato but this one is on him. WWX is in no emotional place to play “guess WangJi” and it might make his soul shrivel up and die inside but a Long Conversation should be had.

Ok, allow me to go on another fucking tangent, there aren’t enough already. I’ve seen posts saying that western people misinterpret LWJ’s short and blunt speech (is short speech something you say in English?) as him being awkward/clamming up/not liking to talk when it actually is considered a very elegant thing to be able to get your point across with as few words as possible, because our culture values eloquence. First of all, I’ve seen that point made with the English language, and I’m Spanish, I don’t know if it affects my point of view but we also have the same idea of getting to the point ASAP here, it isn’t like the height of elegance but it is very common. That’s not my reasoning to say LWJ is an introverted/awkward potato, although it influences it. Because I’ve seen the show a few times, and because YiBo is the patron saint of micro-expressions, I’ve caught several instances in which, after pleasantries are done, a stranger tries to talk to LWJ and he get the tiniest “oh shit people want to have a conversation someone save me” look on his face. The most notable one is when YunmengJiang is trying to get into Cloud Recesses.

Just because someone can be a good conversationalist doesn’t mean they actually like to talk to people or be around them.

Bless JC to the rescue.

Btw regardless of me going off about LWJ’s lack of communication it doesn’t mean I’m not side eyeing WWX for unleashing on people who are not at fault for his trauma.

LET MY YUNMENG SIBS BE HAPPY GODDAMNIT

So that’s all for this episode. I’m so sorry for my tangents, I can’t contain myself. Thanks for reading!

[thecinemastrikesback]

I was tagged by @celluloid-dame

Thank you!

this or that

coffee or tea | early bird or night owl | chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative | freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks | mountains or fields | thunder or lightning | egyptian mythology or greek mythology | ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre | opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees | macarons or eclairs | typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library | rooftop or balcony | spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris | vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather | potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens | masquerade ball or cocktail party

instructions: tag 10 people you’d like to know better

name: abby

starsign: gemini

hogwarts house: slytherin

height: 5'6

sexuality: oh, well...

favorite animal: cow

average time of sleep: 5 to 7 hours

current time: 01:03 a.m

dogs or cats: both

blankets you sleep with: just one blanket

when you made your blog: end of 2013, i think

followers: 588

why you made your blog: just because I love cinema and wanted to keep track of the movies I was watching (although I don’t use it for that anymore)

reason for your url: just a little pun with star wars

rules: answer 21 questions and tag 21 people you would like to get to know better

real name? abby

nickname? bii

zodiac? gemini

favorite musicians or groups? The Kills, Marina and the diamonds, Queen, Joy Division, Lady gaga (I dunno, I like so many different ones)

favorite sports teams? I don’t have one

other blogs? @guesswhatiamarobot

do i get asks? nope, rarely.

how many blogs do i follow? 404

tumblr crushes? nope

lucky numbers? I don’t think I have any.

what am i wearing? Pajamas

dream vacation? a road trip on route 66 (a bit cliché, I know)

dream car? Ford mustang or thunderbird

favorite food? bean stew

drink of choice? coke

instruments? guitar and bass (but I don’t play in ages)

languages? english, spanish, portuguese and although I don’t speak it, I understand french pretty well

celebrity crushes? katie mcgrath, young leo dicaprio

random facts? I learnt how to whistle before learning how to talk.

20 random facts about yourself that may surprise people

1. do you make your bed? yes (when I make it)

2. what’s your favourite number? 23

3. what’s your job? still studying

4. if you could, would you go back to school? I’m still there.

5. can you parallel park? Yes, I don’t like it, though.

6. a job you had which would surprise people? I dunno, I never had weird jobs 

7. do you think aliens are real? They’re most likely to be real

8. can you drive a manual car? Yes.

9. what’s your guilty pleasure? watch crappy youtube videos

10. tattoos? no

11. favourite colour? red or bordeaux

12. things people do that drive you crazy? talking too loud.

13. any phobias? Being confined in a really small space.

14. favourite childhood sport? basketball

15. do you talk to yourself? Not really

16. what movie do you adore? That’s a tough one, but Blade Runner has a special place in my heart. It made me pursue and discover more about cinema.

17. do you like doing puzzles? yes

18. favourite kind of music? Rock, alternative, pop, gothic rock, punk, I just enjoy a lot of different genres

19. tea or coffee? tea

20. the first thing you remember you wanted to be when you grew up? I wanted to build and create stuff and I remember saying that I wanted to be a mechanic or an inventor.

i tag anyone, really. Feel free to answer these questions, keep your mind busy and have fun.

[keysmash]

AU where (***SPOILERS FOR THOSE WHO DIDN'T SEE THE FORUM ON NOVEL UPDATES***) LSZ hadn't lost his memory of WWX and the remaining Wen clan members.

ILY ANON! This AU is one of the few things I have lined up for, like, after I’m done with the soulmate HCs but since you asked, here you go (under the read more cut, because, SPOILERS!) It’s a lengthy one. I hope you enjoy this anon~

First of all, I’ll have you know that my muse while writing this down are obviously Wangxian by LWJ and You are my sunshine (Nick Lachey ver.). 

It starts with a dream, or memory - WWX hides little LSZ in a place he thought would be the safest, further away from what he thinks would be considered war loot. A-yuan hears a lullaby WWX sings to him every night and difts off to sleep

Before waking up from his dream, LSZ remembers WWX apologising to him for what’s going to happen (I would tell you to come kick my ass in hell, but I hope you’ll go to heaven, A-Yuan.)

When he wakes up in the cloud recesses, at least two weeks have passed since WWX died. He wakes up, panics and cries for for Xian-gege (Xian-gege where are you? I promise to be a good boy! A-Yuan will call you mama! I won’t call you Brother Poor. Wwaaaaaahhh)

LWJ takes the crying boy into his arms in an attempt to shush him. LSZ recognises his Brother Rich and cries harder. (I want Xian-gege! I want granny! I want- I want… Uwaaaaaa)

LWJ plays Inquiry every day with a sleeping LZS in his lap, usually crying himself to sleep calling for Xian-gege.

He stops crying himself to sleep after a few weeks but still accompanies LWJ every day as the latter plays Inquiry. (What are you doing? // Finding Wei Ying // Can you find Xian-gege this way? // Mm. // Can A-Yuan play too? A-Yuan will help find Xian-gege. // Can learn. // Will brother teach me? // When you’re older.)

When LSZ is officially recognised as a Lan, he remembers WWX telling him about “the rich sect with lots of rules”. He will study hard and be strong so that if WWX returns, LSZ can protect him. He doesn’t like to follow the older disciples into town. They all talk bad about WWX and LSZ won’t listen to them

He meets LJY for the first time when he turns seven. They end up in a fist fight because LJY talks shit about WWX (I bet he’s evil and ugly OWW what did you hit me for?!) They are punished to kneel and copy the rules for two whole months after classes. Within the two months, the boys reconciled and become fast friends (LJY: We’re BFF now yeah? Yeah!)

After a year or so, LSZ tentatively asks LJY: “What if I tell you I’m not actually a Lan?” He has read books about the Wens and slowly starts to understand the atrocity committed by the Qishan Wen Sect in the past. He wants LJY to know about him although he is scared of losing a friend. LJY simply tells him he doesn’t care even if LSZ is a demon king or whatever and that they’re friends either way. He’ll also fight other people who make fun of LSZ. I LIVE FOR THEIR FRIENDSHIP OKAY

When he turns 10, LWJ starts him on quqin training. After getting no answer 10 times, LSZ secretly breaks down crying before he goes to sleep. He gains a newfound respect for LWJ who never stops playing Inquiry for a long time. He starts calling LWJ Hanguang-jun out of respect although in his heart, LWJ will always be the kind Rich Brother and a dad.

LSZ studies, cultivates and trains diligently. He helps LWJ take care of the rabbits. (Hanguang-jun, how did these rabbits end up here? / Wei Ying.) At 10, LSZ is too young to understand LWJ’s real feelings so he thinks LWJ must have been a very close friend of WWX

LSZ lights incense and prays for his fallen family members every year on the anniversary of the siege. He visits the kitchen and makes spicy congee as an offering and plays Inquiry in a solo attempt to find WWX.

One night, he dreams about his family and wakes up earlier than usual. He sits at his desk and draws the faces of everyone he loves and misses. When LJY asks, LSZ says he is scared of forgetting their faces, so he wants to draw them while he can still vividly remember how they look like.

LWJ finds his drawing. LSZ apologises for wasting time on mundane things and expresses his readiness to accept punishment. LWJ asks him to describe each and every person in his drawing. LSZ happily complies

When they arrive at WWX’s drawing, LSZ sees the changes in LWJ’s expression and offers LWJ his drawing. He��s not surprised when LWJ takes the drawing and thanks him for it.

At 12, the young disciples go on an excursion to Caiyi Town. LSZ discovers a romance novel and secretly buys it. In the novel, the character has achieved immortality and waits for hundreds of years to be reunited with his deceased lover, traveling to many places for a chance to meet each other. LSZ thinks the character is similar to LWJ and realises with a jolt how LWJ must have felt for WWX.

One night, he silently joins LWJ to play Inquiry next to him. LWJ looks at him questioningly. LSZ simply says “I also love Xian-gege.” and plays his quqin. “When I meet him again, I’ll surprise him and call him Mama. He was so jealous when he thought I cried and called you papa the first time we met, Hanging-jun. Uh… Sorry for my ugly crying, haha.” He swears LWJ actually smiles a little but when he blinks, the hint of a smile is no longer around.

One evening, LWJ hears LSZ playing a melody he has never taught the boy (wangxian). It isn’t 100% the same but very similar so he asks LSZ about the song. (Xian-gege used to sing it for me when I had trouble sleeping. Sometimes he plays the tune with his flute. It’s very different than the other songs he played).

By the time he starts training with guest disciples from other sects and meet Jin Ling, LSZ has calmed down enough to not react badly when people thrash talk WWX. In a way, he understands why JL is the way he is but he is not afraid to voice out his opinions when he thinks it’s necessary.

Like LWJ, he listens to stories about JC capturing demonic cultivators and hopes none of them is WWX.

One time, LSZ buys every copy of a book depicting the evil deeds of the Yiling Patriarch from a street vendor, highly exaggerated to the point of obvious slander (WHAT IS THIS BOOK? XIAN-GEGE WOULD NEVER INFLICT PAIN ON PEOPLE FOR FUN!) He burns every single copy to dust.

In class, they learn how to use the tools invented by WWX in night hunt (like the compass and the flags). LSZ sighs at the irony of people hating on Yiling Patriarch but still making full use of what he left behind.

The request for an exorcism at Mo Village arrives and LSZ is in sent out because from the request received, the matter doesn’t seem very difficult for even junior disciples to handle.

When he reaches Mo Village in the morning, it feels like any other village he had previously visited. At around noon, however, he feels a subtle change in the atmosphere.

Seeing fierce corpses fight each other reminds LSZ of his childhood. He feels a pang of nostalgia when he remembers WN but shakes it away to focus on the intense fight.

When he hears MXY play a hastily carved bamboo flute, LSZ is stunned. He knows there are many people who venture into demonic cultivation and want to be as strong as Yiling Patriarch but the melody played, although much poorer in quality probably due to the flute, sounds nostalgic.

When WN appears, LSZ has to stop himself from breaking down in tears because Brother Ning who protected him, played with him, took care of him, whom everyone thought to have been ground to dust, has returned. When WN roars at the cultivators who gang up to capture him, LSZ wants to interfere.

Before he could, MXY plays a soft melody to calm WN’s bloodlust. LSZ recognises the song straight away as his childhood lullaby. (“A nice song isn’t it?” WWX asked little LSZ in the past. “I’ll only play it so you can sleep, okay A-Yuan? I’m going to lose face if people hear the feared Yiling Patriarch playing songs like this in public hahahaha”

He sees LWJ protecting MXY from JC and all his doubts are cleared. WWX has returned in the body of MXY.

LSZ runs to stand by LWJ an WWX and tries to reason with JC. (“I won’t let him take you, Xian-gege”). He is the only disciple not surprised at all when LWJ brings WWX to The Cloud Recesses.

Following LWJ’s lead, he pretends to play along with WWX’s charade as MXY until LWJ tells him otherwise. It’s okay, he thought. We have waited 13 years. What a little more? Besides, the wait is already over. LSZ can’t wait to show WWX what he has learnt. He wants WWX to be proud of him.

Later, LSZ thinks, it is really impossible to doubt that it is indeed WWX in MXY’s body. WWX’s smile, although in a different body, is the same cheeky smile he remembers.

And so LSZ waits.

Should I continue?

[jilljoycearts]

Emoji ask: all for Siri and Svart

Yes, thank you v much, I die now :DD  Hope The cut will save your dash from me

💅 What are some things they have strong opinions about?

Religion. Siri despises the concept of “the path” and hates that people have to restrain their ambitions.

💖 Do they have a significant other? If so, who?

At the moment of her arrival to Enderal she’s single, in a few months she has friends, in two years she finds her s/o in one of them. You know the one.

💞 What’s their friend group like? What role do they play (leader, mom friend, etc.)?

Siri - random activity generator, chaotic experimenter, fun initiator, Jespar - same as above but more chill, tends to focus on static leisure, Calia - mom friend, voice of reason,Tharael -

👓 Do they have any physical or mental disabilities?

Short-sightedness, but it isn’t that bad. Just a little bit.

🔮 Do they have any magical powers or abilities? If it’s a realistic world, what religion do they follow?

Her ‘magical powers’ are quite demure. She knows how to cast a light, a shield and some very basic elementalism spells. As for abilities - ghostwalk. There is also a ‘perk’ she’s got from her mother - if it’s cold and snowing and she’s getting emotional, all around her start to freeze even more, and if she doesn’t calm down, she’ll make herself freeze to death, as well as those who accompany her.

🎉 Do they celebrate any holidays? How do they celebrate?

She doesn’t even know when her birthday is, so no, no holidays. But if there’s a celebration of something in the city and it seems like fun, she’ll most certainly join it.

📚 If they were the protagonist in any book series, what series would they choose? Alternatively: what would be their favorite book?

LOtR!

🎤 Do they play any instruments?

Knows how to play the flute, but hates it. Hates the sound of it in general and will do her best to leave immediately if hears it somewhere nearby.

🎪 What would their favorite ride at an amusement park be?

That one that is visible from the five km before you even see the amusement park itself. She’s afraid of heights, but, if safety guaranteed, she won’t hesitate.

🍸 How do they act when they’re drunk?

Too loud. Might get aggressive easily, but mostly turns into touchy-feels mess and can’t hold her mouth shut, so will tell you how much she loves you (if she does). She will definitely try to find the most idiotic thing that can be done for fun and will do her best to make her drinking buddies join her.

🌹  What songs remind you of them?

Depends. Here’s the list of some:

AURORA - Winter Bird

AURORA - All Is Soft Inside

Robert DeLong - Don't Wait Up

LITTLE BIG — I'M OK

⛄ What’s their favorite season and why?

Spring. Simply amazing. She loves sitting on the sun enjoying its warmth and all the green starts flourish again. Peaceful time full of hope for the future.

🌙 Which D&D class would they play as?

Rogue.

💫 What’s their favorite expletive?

Shit.

🔥 What’s their favorite candle scent?

If it smells like pastry then she’ll buy a dozen.

⏳ How do they feel about death?

Scary but inevitable. She is scared of it, of pain, of the great unknown of what comes after.

🌊 What one place do they really want to visit and why?

She wants to go to Arazeal steppes once. Two reasons: first is to visit her mother’s homeland and the second one it to try and tame her magic. She believes that the ‘ice circle’ perk is a thing that can be controlled and the place of its origin is the best one to learn how.

🌵 What languages do they speak?

Siri speaks Inal and knows some simple phrases of other languages that she learnt from the people she knew.

🍑 Which emoji would they use the most?

🙌🏻 for Siri

🍼 Do they want to start a family? If they already have one, describe it.

Her friends are her family. Described in the 💞 before. Speaking of children... well, not the best idea. Neither now, nor in the nearest future.

💳 What do they waste the most money on?

Best-looking armor and weapons (and of the best quality of course).

👠 What kind of shoes do they wear?

Something like this:

💉 Which Deadly Sin do they most correspond to? Which Heavenly Virtue?

Deadly Sin: lust / gluttony (more of excessive love of pleasure)

Heavenly Virtue: Kindness

🃏 If you had to choose one tarot card to represent them, what would it be?

One is impossible, have a batch:

The Fool ( as wandering to nowhere, new beginnings), The High Priestess ( as lack of patience), The Emperor (as charismatic leader), Strength (as courage), The Hanged Man (as change and rebirth), The Tower (as abandoning the past), The Star (as optimism), The Sun (as positive energy)

To narrow down the list, I tend to focus on the fool, the hanged man and the sun.

[tatselk]

The Untamed (陈情令) Review: Ep 9

!!! SPOILERS AHEAD !!!

Previous episode review: 1 and 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.

Get ready to be befuddled by all the Wen plot/stygian seal/zombification (and de-zombification) that went down in this episode!

The opening of this episode carries on from the zombified people (NOT corpses) who were trying to attack LWJ, WWX and NHS at the Dancing Goddess temple on Dafan Mountain in the previous episode. Just when it looked as though the three of them had to fight their way out of the zombified horde, the zombies just turned and left as they were under the control of music being played by a flute. WQ was the one who was playing the flute that controlled the zombies. HOLY SHIT. So is this why the live-action got a name change? Because the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation is actually the GrandMISTRESS of Demonic Cultivation?!

JC joined the WWX/LWJ/NHS trio at the temple! Oh and reached new levels of tsun-ness in ALMOST confessing how worried he was about WWX disappearing on the Jiangs. :)

WQ told WWX that the zombified people were created/ controlled by energy from the stygian seal which WRH sealed in the Wens’ magical crow-like bird and that if they wanted to help de-zombify these people (de-zombification is a thing now???), they had to kill the bird. 

After creating a protective barrier around WQ, JC and NHS, WWX and LWJ went off to kill the bird (and WWX kinda nearly got killed in the process methinks). After LWJ and WWX killed the bird and walked off, WC appeared and looked like he was going to continue going after them for the fragment of the stygian seal. Dun dun dun DUN. 

WQ gets to tell (parts of) her backstory and clear up (some of) our confusion about what in the world happened at Dafan Mountain. And whatever that she was unwilling to say about it, WWX figured it out anyway. WQ is from a cadet branch of the Wen sect which specialised in practising medicine and was based on Dafan Mountain. The zombified (and now de-zombified) people are her relatives. 20 years ago, WRH removed a piece of the stygian seal from the Dancing Goddess statue's heart. Since the statue can’t feed on the stygian seal’s energy, it eventually came alive to feed on the energy of living people. WQ and WN’s father died after being attacked by the Dancing Goddess statue and WN himself looked like he had some part of his soul sucked away by the statue or something. WRH then took WQ and WN back to Qishan and raised them. 

I THINK WE GOT OUR FIRST LOOK AT BABY!LSZ/ WY IN THIS EPISODE. Like when they were all gathered at the Wen cemetery. 

I kinda want to see more of the process of JC and NHS trying to catch a cockerel and being dumbasses about it. :)

Best lines in this episode. WWX: “Maiden Wen, we were deliberately led to this place. The moment we entered the village, the old beggar woman led us to the Dancing Goddess temple. The Dancing Goddess came alive but only went after Lan Zhan, not the rest of us. If this has nothing to do with the stygian seal, there can only be one reason for this. ... She must like Lan Zhan!”. LWJ: “Shut your mouth.” Omg, WWX, please don’t project your crush on LWJ on others and/or announce it to everyone. JC already kinda noticed it back when yall were at the Cloud Recesses. XD

Collision of Yueyang-related bits from different time periods in the novel! The WWX/LWJ/NHS/JC quartet went to a tavern to hear about what unusual things have happened in the area (ie WWX and LWJ going to the tavern to hear about Yueyang stuff in the present timeline of the novel was moved forward to WWX’s flashbacks). What has happened was that the Yueyang Chang sect have apparently disappeared (ie what happened when WWX was dead in the novel was also moved forward to his flashbacks). But at night, there was the sound of somebody banging on the door at the Yueyang Chang sect’s residence (ie what WWX and LWJ learnt at the tavern in the present timeline in the novel was moved forward to WWX’s flashbacks to happen right after the slaughter). 

While they were at the tavern,  the Lan fragment of the stygian seal suddenly activated itself. LWJ, who had this fragment on him, suddenly got visions of the Chang sect people being slaughtered/ zombified and said that they should go to the Chang sect’s residence. Somehow, this has some Harry Potter/ horcrux or Lord of the Rings/ the One Ring vibes to it. 

WWX and JC agreed to go. BUT NHS insisted on remaining at the tavern to wait for MY/JGY to arrive. Why does the live-action production team WANT me to invest in a NHS/MY friendship and, knowing what is going to happen eventually, break my heart???

WWX, LWJ and JC went off to the Chang sect’s residence and found that: (1) the Lan fragment of the stygian seal was activated so somebody recently used another fragment of the seal here, (2) there was the sound of banging on the door, (3) the corpses of the Chang sect people were all over the place and (4) they were zombified before their deaths. 

Overall: 7/10. There was ALOT of information thrown at us and deviation from the novel to digest here. Plus, there was basically NO fluffy/shippy-ness so definitely not one of my fav episodes. Haha. 

[asterinjapan]

A Magical Evening

Good evening!!!!!!! Well, it’s more like night now, but as you might have noticed from my use of exclamation marks, I am too excited to go to sleep yet, haha. I don’t have a lot of pictures from today, but I also don’t care, because…

Today was the day of KOKIA’s concert ‘The Christmas Season with the Orchestra’, and as a long-time KOKIA fan (10 years and counting), I was super excited to attend and this is in fact the main reason I’m in Tokyo right now. So let me tell you all about it!

This will be a long report, because it was a very exciting (and long) day. Just a head’s up before you decide to press Read More, haha.

EDIT: since I share this post on a KOKIA site, I have edited it to only refer to the concert (song by song). I’ll make a second post about the rest of the day and make sure it’ll get posted on this day as well (I can backdate my entries).

 I hope you’re not hoping for an unbiased review here, because I kind of love KOKIA a lot, haha.

 The orchestra started with an Overture, which consisted of Have yourself a merry little Christmas, smoothly transitioning in a gorgeous arrangement of KOKIA’s song Anshin no Naka, to finally roll into Arigatou…, which was the first song KOKIA wrote herself (she’s written almost all of her own songs ever since). That alone was awesome, because the arrangement was lovely, and how cool must it be for KOKIA to have a full orchestra play this song which she wrote almost twenty years ago? (Her 20th anniversary is coming up this April.)

KOKIA now arrived on stage and immediately started with Ookina senaka (‘broad back’), a song I haven’t heard from her in quite a while. It took me a while to recognize it, as the orchestra gives it a brand new feeling and just, wow. This orchestra is amazing, as is KOKIA of course. What an amazing combination.

The next song was a Christmas song, Seinaru yoru ni~Holy night, her own song from her Christmas album Christmas Gift. The orchestra was equipped with bells to set the mood, and it’s a very pretty song overall, working us up into a Christmas mood for the next song: Christmas Medley! This song is also from that album, but it is completely rearranged and the songs in the medley changed too. Going by memory, I heard have yourself a merry little Christmas, Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town, Let it snow, I’ll be home for Christmas, Akahana no tonakai (Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer in Japanese), Jingle bells, and The Christmas song. The transition from one into another was so smooth (my only complaint about the CD version is how one song basically stops before the next one picks up, which isn’t exactly a medley). I really loved it, and it was super fun to hear Rudolph in Japanese (I think it’s one of the first songs I learnt in Japanese, ever). So cute! Jingle Bells was very awesome because the orchestra threw in  Joy to the World, in full power, and then it blended into Jingle Bells. So that was really surprising and so cool. The Christmas Song was lovely already, but then it ended in this big, overwhelming ending, wow.

Up next was Family Tree from her album I Found You. This was quite the change, because the song is in Japanese and KOKIA just – easily overpowered an entire orchestra with just her voice? Wow. This was such a strong performance, with some pitch changes compared to the CD (and previous live) arrangement, making it feel brand new again. Her opera roots became more evident here.

Next up, a song I hadn’t heard in a while either: Chiisana uta (‘small song’). This is. Not a small song at all, haha, since it’s pretty long on the album (6 minutes? Maybe 7? There was a 7 minute long song on the album, I know that). Today, though? After I realized what song it was, I just felt overwhelmed again. The swelling of the music was just amazing here, indeed going small in places before coming back in full force. I fell in love with this song all over again.

Next up, percussion picked up a bell. Then the harp struck a couple of chords. Next up, a lone flute. What song was this going to be? It turned out to be Oto no tabibito (‘Sound traveller’), a song with instrumentals that feel very traditional. Even with more western instruments, the orchestra replicated the feeling amazingly well, and once again KOKIA gave a powerful performance with this wonderful song.

KOKIA sometimes took the time between her songs to talk a little. I think the first time was after the medley, and the second time was here. She talked a bit about the Christmas season, and her gratefulness for people coming over, and then she transitioned to Arigatou… (‘thank you’), which we got a sneak-peek of in the overture. And just… wow. This was the first song of KOKIA I ever heard along with Shiroi yuki (‘white snow’, which seems awfully appropriate given the season and the fact I keep getting sent pictures from the Netherlands under a snowy cover tonight, haha). As mentioned, it was the first song she wrote herself, and she’s rearranged it several times. It’s not the first time I heard it live, but it was the first time I heard it live with an orchestra backing her up. The flow in music was absolutely beautiful, and I started to tear up a little.

Of course, that was when all the lights went on for intermission, pff. I quickly went to the restroom and then returned to hastily type out the track list on my phone and my impressions. (I was super proud I knew the entire list from memory still, and then it turned out that the set list was printed on one of the photos in the lobby… which I entirely overlooked. Oops.)

Speaking of the intermission, the harpist had stayed behind to tune her instrument. She took almost the entire break too – I feel her pain, haha. It’s a lovely instrument, and featured prominently tonight to my delight, but yeah, the tuning… Such fun.

  The rest of the orchestra had returned by now, barring the pianist and the conductor. Which was kinda odd, because it wasn’t the first violinist who arrived last now, and doesn’t an orchestra need a conductor period? However, KOKIA re-entered the stage and the lights went off – except on KOKIA and the pianist. KOKIA is amazing with an orchestra, but her going back to her core with just a piano by her side is always magical. The song turned out to be Kasa o kashite agete (‘please lend me your umbrella’), which is a song I must confess I don’t listen to very often. (It’s only on one album, which is a live registration of a very emotional concert.)  It’s a wonderful song, however, and stripped back to only KOKIA’s voice and piano it was so pure and soft. It didn’t sound particularly fragile, but I still got the feeling it was a bubble – sparkling and beautiful, but thin and likely to burst the moment you touch it.

The next song was Faraway, which is a B-side to a single and actually quite the slow song, so it hasn’t made as much an impression on me as it’s A-side (Hikari o atsumete (‘gathering lights’), for those interested). Now, however? Suddenly power had seeped into this song, and I hadn’t realized it could even sound like that. Gone was the slow, soft and dreamy song I remembered, it was more like a power ballad. Whoa.

Next was Atatakai basho (‘cozy place’), which is another gentle song. It’s from her album aigakikoeru, which was also released in France (actually ahead of the Japanese release) and the first album I physically owned, and this is one of my favourite tracks. Once again, it was completely rearranged, and my notes call this ‘movie-esque’. And it does feel like a movie soundtrack all packed into one song – introduction, main conflict, climax, resolution. This orchestra has done soundtracks before (I own two more albums with game music covered by the Tokyo Philharmonic Orchestra), and it definitely gave off this feeling. I loved it. KOKIA showed off her powerful voice again and I was blown away.

Next up, usaghi (‘rabbit’). This is an odd little song in that it’s always sounded a bit – French? To me. I can’t really put my finger on it, but it’s pretty fast-paced and definitely feels exotic compared to the rest of the album, mostly due to the instrumentals. The new arrangement gave it a new, fresh feeling, but I can’t really say what changed for me (aside from the instruments, obviously). The refrain still came off a little French, but once again, also more movie-like. Dang, it’s only been a couple of hours and I already have a hard time retelling, haha. KOKIA does really like France though, so I’m not stretching it super far!

There was still a song from the overture we hadn’t heard yet, and it was Anshin no naka (‘in peace’). I feel like I keep repeating myself, but the magic of KOKIA’s vocals and a full orchestra… it’s just amazing. I already really love this song (…which loses its impact if I keep saying so every other song or so, but ssh), and I wanted to wrap it up and keep it close.

After that, KOKIA held a little talk again and mentioned her next song: moment ~ima o ikiru~ (‘live in the moment’). I’m very glad she did, because I need to be emotionally prepared for this song. The album moment came out during a time I really needed it, and this really picked me up when I needed it most. As a result, that entire album hits close, and I was already reduced to tears when she sang it live during the first time I had the privilege to attend a KOKIA concert back in 2014. She outdid that performance here. This song was a victory march – it started with an upbeat riff you often hear in the ‘let’s go end this battle’ songs in movies and musicals, which continued all the way until the very end. The orchestra came on powerful and just swelled and swelled until every single instrument was participating, including the big percussion and the big gong. KOKIA still managed to overpower the instruments, her voice amazing and strong and holding the long tone in the song for about 20 seconds (I tried counting, but I was – pretty emotional by this point). She went back to sounding so very small and near fragile, though she still kept her underlying strength, before it swelled up again and finally quieted down entirely, but not before the riff had the last word. I’m not entirely sure if this was the song that ended with a harp solo, but it might as well be, I was already in tears anyway.

After her final words, KOKIA sang one more song: Eiga no you na koi deshita (‘it was a love like in the movies’). Which, yeah, sounded exactly like a movie song. Actually, maybe it was this song with the harp solo. It was so sweet and lovely, I wanted to give it a hug. (And KOKIA too while I was at it.)

KOKIA took her final bows, left the stage, came back, left again with the conductor, came back again for the final bows this time for real! … Only to reappear once more, haha. After that, the orchestra also packed up, and it was time to leave the hall.

  I barely had any time to recover (especially from moment), because I still had a piece of paper burning in my pocket! We queued up immediately, although the line for the autograph session was pretty long already. I was in a prime view spot to see KOKIA arrive, maybe a meter and a half removed from me. I was – kind of shaking at this point. It’s really surreal to be a fan for so long, invest so much time and energy in running a fan site and talking to others about her. It’s almost like I know her personally (I’ve been translating her blog consistently for over six years now, enough to easily grasp her words during her concert even if my brain is woefully behind on Japanese vocabulary. I am pretty attuned to her way with words at this point). I owe her a lot. Actually, I wrote her a letter saying so, and I’d prepared a little bag with said letter, some candy from the Netherlands and two small gifts. I asked, and I was allowed to give it to her, so I got excited over that already, haha.

Finally, I made it to the front of the line, where I got introduced. She shook my hand, and I think she thanked me for my work on the blog? And then she shook my hand again? I was reduced to just saying ‘thank you’ in Japanese over and over again and I did manage to stutter out I brought her a gift bag from the Netherlands, and I also did eventually remember to ask her to sign my booklet for me, haha. I’m typing this and I can still hardly believe I actually met her, and shook her hand, and she was so nice and kind! She must have seen hundreds of people face to face today, but she chatted for a little with everyone who wanted to, and she actually remembers people by face and name.

We stuck around long enough for KOKIA to wrap up, and she walked right past us and thanked us for coming (in English too), and she’s just – so nice. Ahh. Never meet your heroes, they say, but I kinda disagree here.

  I’m just so happy, guys. I got to attend an amazing concert, I got to meet KOKIA (which is still so surreal and I’m never washing this hand again – metaphorically at least), I made new friends, and I just. I’m just flailing my hands wildly right now, haha.

I’m sorry if this entry was a little incoherent and a little (very) long, but since this was the whole reason I went back to Japan again so soon, I hope you can forgive me.

Gosh, this was so, so worth it. I’m so happy and I keep staring at my signed booklet, it’s actually happened.

Only now KOKIA’s anniversary concert is April 29-30… I don’t think I can return again so soon, haha.

  But KOKIA, if you’re reading this, thank you so very, very much for an unforgettable evening. It was a privilege to actually meet you and express my gratitude face to face, even though that was pretty much the only thing I told you, haha. Your music means so much to me that I don’t think I can express it in words properly, although I tried to do so in my letter. I can genuinely say I’ll always be a fan, and I can’t believe how lucky I am to have seen you perform live on multiple occasions now. Thank you for allowing me to meet many new and wonderful people, today and in earlier times, and for sharing your music with the world.