#of all things those bring me the utmost glee

[castielhoney]

Cw Queerbait Curse silliness aside, destiel makes me so happy. truly brings me a lot of joy. it was CANON and they were in LOVE and it was GAY and GAY LOVE PIERCED THROUGH THE VEIL OF DEATH AND SAVED THE DAY. my boys. kiss kiss. i love you both.

#also fanfics are great #and all the beautiful art #but most of all the reason i made this post was bc of a headcanon i saw #of all things those bring me the utmost glee #i love them so much #thank you for the Secret Good Spn chums #castiel #supernatural #dean winchester #spn #destiel #castiel my beloved #supernatural fanart

[serenit-teas]

Me, riddled with delusion <- (is a 6'3 P enjoyer and believer)

I just!!! I know everyone has commented on it in some way shape or form and I guess it's my turn to throw my two cents in😔 god I should not have the freedom to ramble on this app

Like!! This guy, this one man battalion is terrifying in concept. A puppet with an incredibly rare (and deadly) ability to lie, with advanced combat skills and power that only seems to enhance thanks to the Ergo that can be encountered in his ventures, and an imposing figure to round it all out. In theory it screams threat, danger.

But then you meet him, see how meek and gentle he is with everyone in Hotel Krat. Once, witnessing Spring recoil at his advance, hissing and all but swatting at him. Though being able to emote was one of the few things he could not yet do, you swear he seemed to wilt after the encounter with the feline. During the rockier moments of becoming acquainted with the cat, he would never grow frustrated after the failed attempts, understanding and respecting that she's not comfortable around him. He would simply leave her be, and try again later.

He rarely speaks, and if he does it's one word or a clipped phrase, not out of rudeness or anything of the sort, it's new and quite frankly, there's a high chance that he simply wouldn't know what to say.

There's something of a quite excitement and giddiness in P when he brings a new record back to the Hotel, not only does it mean that he gets to experience what this recent find has to offer, but also that any of the other residents of the Hotel can enjoy the spoils of his journey.

He listens and takes heed in what people say, no matter if it's critical information in regards to his outings, passing comments of bygone days, or just ramblings in any variety, he listens, makes the people around him feel heard and understood. (Even if some things go over his head)

He'll realise some time or later that he LIKES making the people he's met happy*, seeing their faces light up in glee or relief.

It's a small victory in the hell they're all surviving.

Every time I think of P I imagine this gentle giant who is so achingly soft spoken and sweet, who is aware of his immense strength and takes care to never harm those he treasures. And in turn that leads to the BEST juxtaposition of the raw carnage he's capable of! This guy can rip through sturdy puppets and manmade horrors like they're wet tissue paper, has stared down monstrosities and come out on top, can bounce back from injuries that would leave others utterly mangled at best.

He is a terrifying concept and there's no denying what he can easily do if he so chose, but his conscious effort to exhibit the utmost care when surrounded by fragility makes my heart MELT. Soft boy P will forever have me hooked no matter what, but there's something about a tall boy with a heart of gold (literally) who, despite still learning how to live and experience, understands his presence around others.🥺

*(Not that he would want to see them upset, I think at first there would be a nuetral understanding of "What happens here affects me and my progress." Just a thought though!)

#AND I WOULD JUST LIKE TO SAY!!! #SHORT BOY P LOVER AND ENJOYERS ARE JUST AS VALID!!! #YALL DONT HAVE TO CRANE YOUR NECK UP TO LOOK AT HIM #EASY SMOOCH ACCESS #DONT HAVE TO REACH UP UP UP TO TRACE HIS FRECKLES #TALL AND SHORT P ARE BOTH VALID AND WONDERFUL AND HE LOVES YOU REGARDLESS!!! #Have a hc that whenever he's feeling nervous or shy or flustered you can hear his springs and cogs working overtime #and that!!! is what you do to him!!! you make rattled silverware noises come out of him!!!! #clinking like a mfer i know!!! because he told me!!!! #lies of p x reader #pinocchio x reader #kinda but still #text post #chels mumbles #chels writes

[owlyflufff]

Flowers became a love language between Bokuto and Akaashi, somehow.

To pull back the strings of time to when it started means to draw all the way back to Bokuto Koutarou’s third year, his last Summer Camp.

Over at the horizon of the hill where the players (mostly Karasuno) ran up and down for every loss, there Akaashi had stayed, watching as the last rays of sun sputtered out.

A little moment of peace as one would say. Although as most things, they don’t quite last forever.

“Akaashi look at this!” Footsteps thud along the incline of the hill and Akaashi doesn’t need to raise his head to know who it is.

He looks up all the same.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, the faintest sigh passing him by, “perhaps you should look at yourself first?”

For a moment, Akaashi watches as Bokuto swerves around like a dog chasing after it’s tail. Laughter spills from Bokuto’s lips not long after and punctures the air, the confidence sauntering into hesitance.

Whatever front Bokuto had attempted to put up was futile in the face of Akaashi Keiji, literally. There’s dirt everywhere, stuck onto every portion of Bokuto’s clothes, reaching to his arms and legs.

“Okay, I’ll admit…maybe I didn’t think this one through,” Bokuto says as his hair animatedly sags for a brief moment only to spike up again in the next.

To this day, Akaashi doesn’t quite know how it happens. It just does.  

Accepting Bokuto’s defeat, Akaashi stands up and pulls the towel from his neck. He pats it on Bokuto’s arms to dust some chunks off, careful not too knock Bokuto’s hands, for there’s something being held so closed and kept within them. Akaashi can only bear witness to its mystery.

“And I take it, this was all for a good reason?” 

“Exactly, see Akaashi, the end does justify the means!”

The amount of nonchalance in Akaashi’s movements as he continues to brush of portions of dirt were enough to conceal whatever silent war was raging in his mind. Of instances, and of cliches and of many many stories where,

“That’s debatable.” Akaashi counters.

“Then, I’ll debate against your debate!” Bokuto announces, the brightest grin on his face. There can only be so many instances where Bokuto and Akaashi are in synch with each other. Even then when they weren’t, Akaashi had always needed someone to balance his constant sense of practicality and allow it to descend into something nonsensical, pluck away that part of him that was always so logical and morph it into something fun.

For what is life without being able to enjoy it?

And for all of Bokuto’s ridiculousness right now, covered in dirt and looking like a hopeless mess, Akaashi smiles.

“I wouldn’t hold back,” the smile spreads a little more, fondness blossoming in the summer. “So, what is it that you wanted to show me Bokuto-san?”

“Oh, right! Here Akaashi look, look, look. Look at this!” 

For someone who’s hands Akaashi has known so well for creating the most thunderous booms across a stadium when sending a mere volleyball down to the ground, this time those hands craddled. It feels gentle. He sees why. 

Hues of blue and pink sprout out as Bokuto lowers his fingers one after the other until finally, Akaashi saw being held with utmost care, were flowers.  A flurry of blue and pink flowers unfolded before him.

“They’re hydrangea flowers.” Bokuto says with a smile full of glee. “Are you looking Akaashi?” 

If Akaashi’s silence and soft breathes as he peers down at the sight before him isn’t enough proof of his own mesmerized state, then he doesn’t quite know what must be spilled or what proof is there for his heart to give.

He’s still learning what it means to open it after all. 

“I am Bokuto-san,” Akaashi whispers. “They’re lovely.” 

“They really are!” Bokuto exclaims. “I found them over there, just up ahead near those pile of rocks.” 

“I remember seeing you bringing Hinata and Lev over to a pile of flowers yesterday,” Akaashi says. 

“Tsuki seemed to like the ones I showed him as well!”

“Shoved, Bokuto-san. You shoved flowers on Tsukishima’s face.” 

“Well, how else was he going to witness them in all their glory Akaashi?!”

Akaashi allows that conversation to settle, peering down at the flowers once more before looking up. “I don’t remember you being so enthusiastic about flowers before Bokuto-san.”

“I’ve always loved flowers! I just-how do I say this? Hmmm...”  Bokuto swings himself a bit to the side in contemplation. “I guess I find it pretty cool when there’s more to something.”

“You mean, when you associate things with other meanings?”

“That!” Bokuto sends a pointing gesture at Akaashi. “It’s like learning that a super duper difficult word has two definitions. As for these...”

Now, here’s something that Akaashi Keiji knows about Bokuto Koutarou: that he has other interests outside of volleyball. That not every conversation they’ve had has been solely on the sport, he’s been on the receiving end of Bokuto’s many interests and listens to them with careful appreciation.

Now here’s something Akaashi Keiji doesn’t know about Bokuto Koutarou: that he can talk about something without yelling every three seconds. 

There’s a lilt in Bokuto’s voice that leaves Akaashi stunned at the mere gentleness. The usual sharpness in his gaze, a far cry from it as it mellowed into something fond as he looked down at the flowers. And for a moment, for a second, Akaashi wonders what it would be like to have Bokuto look at him in that very same manner.

“...did you know that flowers have a language to them Akaashi?” Bokuto prods. 

Akaashi offers a nod, “I’m aware of it, how each flower represents an emotion or virtue.” 

“It also sends out a message!” Bokuto chimes in.

One moment the flowers are still under Bokuto’s careful hold, the next moment they’re practically shoved in front of Akaashi’s face. 

“Here,” Bokuto says with the brightest smile on his face. “They’re for you actually.” 

Akaashi is left at the mercy of his own frozen state. He looks down at the flowers being presented before him, then at Bokuto who, Akaashi fears his eyes are deceiving him surely, are tinted with the slightest pinkish red along his cheeks. 

“I mean-they’ve always been for you!” Any ounce of composure Bokuto has had was diminished by the way his arms moved about. “I just didn’t give them to you immediately cause I thought I should find other flowers cause you deserve better but I mean they’re pretty but um-!”

Gestures, words, and actions have always been difficult for Akaashi to receive, any attempt at reciprocation resulted in short circuiting. He thinks this is the hardest of them all.

“Thank you Bokuto-san,” Slowly, Akaashi takes the hydrangea flowers from Bokuto’s hold. It effectively calms whatever worry Bokuto has down in one fell swoop. 

“I’ll- I’ll make sure to take care of them.” Akaashi says as he fixes some of the petals before bringing it close. It smells of something new and sweet. 

“Oh!” Bokuto has always been good at retaliation when it comes to volleyball, but not in conversations it seems. “Of course! Don’t sweat it, I’m sure you’ll do amazing at taking care of them cause you’re THE Akaashi and you’ve always been attentive of things...”

Then there’s that smile. That rare smile that’s nothing like those grins Bokuto has, for it’s something more intimate. More personal. 

“You’ve always been attentive of me.”

If Akaashi looks at Bokuto for much longer, he swears he sees the sun, he sees hope and he sees every little good thing the world has to offer all in the form of a single human being.

“So! Consider it payback for all of it!” The gentlesness in Bokuto’s voice disappears, but the color in his cheeks is far from doing so. 

Akaashi thinks that flowers don’t particularly equal to the hours he’s spent giving Bokuto tosses, or chasing after him in the rain with an umbrella, or plucking a solution to pick him up from one of his dejected modes, but he’ll take it. He’ll take it wholeheartedly.  

He’ll gladly take anything from Bokuto Koutarou. 

And if this is what Bokuto gives to Akaashi in return, he wonders if he has, somewhere in this point of time, in fact opened his heart. Or perhaps it’s been pried open unexpectedly, all it took was a enigma to shake his world around. 

He’s not quite sure. 

What he’s sure of in the very least is the smile forming on his lips as he gives a simple and soft, “thank you Bokuto-san.” 

Fortunately enough the flowers stay alive by the time that Fukurodani arrive back at the campus and all of their members safely arrive back in their home. 

Akaashi is careful with the hydrangeas Bokuto has given to him, placing it inside of a vase and letting them rest. 

He sits down on his desk, not doing anything in particular save for mindlessly tapping on the surface to form some incoherent beat. 

Thump. 

“ ...did you know that flowers have a language to them Akaashi?”

Thump thump thump. 

“I’m aware of it, how each flower represents an emotion or virtue.”

Thump thump.

“It also sends out a message!”

There is a loud thumping ringing along the walls however it’s no longer from Akaashi’s mindless tapping along the desk, it comes from the tapping of his keyboard. 

Akaashi looks towards the vace, taking note of the color of the hydrangeas. Pink and blue. He notes it as he swiftly types on the keyboard: hydrangea meaning. 

The first thing that appears is an image of four different hydrangea colors, below it are meanings, words that said flowers wish to convey. 

Under the blue hydrangea it reads: “apology, gratitude, understanding.” 

Under the pink hydrangea it reads: “true feelings, sincere emotions...”

Akaashi pauses on the last word, 

“love”

Somewhere on a calendar, a phone screen even, the date would read “April 5″

Somewhere Bokuto paces around his room, looking at his phone, wondering if the message got across.

Somewhere Akaashi is already planning, thinking of booking his way straight to the nearest flower shop as he types on the keyboard: 

“flowers that represent love” Flowers that say “I love you.” 

Akaashi thinks, no he’s sure, he knows what it means to open his heart now. 

And it all starts on April 5.

#happy bokuaka day <33! #hope you like it and I'm terribly sorry again for the delay TvT! #bokuaka #bokuaka fluff #bokuto #akaashi #bokuto koutarou #akaashi keiji #haikyu!! #haikyu #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #hq

[jeskoholic]

Undying Love - Olivia Hye (Part 1)

Authornim: Alright, I’m back on uploading my one-shots. I figured it was time for this before a short break, so I might as well give a lengthy piece for you to read.

Also, I tried new things for this piece as compared to when I first uploaded it , and that is trying to create a separate OC for this fic. I’m still experimenting on it, so any feedback would be appreciated.

The beginning might also be a bit too angsty for some, so there’s just that warning there.

Enjoy!

Words: 29932

Master List: here

---

I can’t even remember when the last time I ever took school seriously was. Ever since what happened almost two years ago, I never had the motivation and even the strength to study, or even live for that matter. No matter how much I tried, I know it would never be the same again; even if I force myself to believe that it could help me in the long run or that it would be the best decision rather than just sulking in my own room. I do appreciate my parents for thinking what was best for me… however, that alone can’t bring things back the way things used to be. It would never have the same effect because things are changed forever. I lost my will to live when I lost what I thought was my only motivation for life was, and now I’m walking in the pavements of Block Berry Creative University not even giving a fuck what was going on.

For what I could tell, the school year has started for almost a week or two now; but as a transferee here from a foreign land it was safe to say that I was still adjusting to everything around me. That’s is not only because this is my first venture back to South Korea for almost fifteen years since we left, but because I am still being haunted by the memories of my past even to this day…

I still remember that one day two years ago when all my deepest fears came to life…

I was never prepared for it, but no one really was. It was as if it just happened yesterday.

The day when I lost the only person I gave a promise I can never ever fulfil…

And all those days before that we were so happy and gave no care to the world…

---START OF FLASHBACK ---

-- TWELVE YEARS AGO---

The lovely rays of sunshine seeped through the gaps of the canopy of trees overhead. It was a late Saturday morning quite a few hours from noon on a quiet countryside, located on the far, rural outskirts of Australia. The fresh breeze of the wind gently grazed the long pool of trees surrounding the rich, soiled pathway where a young boy was occupied on riding his bicycle with utmost glee. The time between morning and the stretch of noon was one of Sang-hoon’s most favourite times of the day and that was solely because he gets the ability to drive across their forest-like neighbourhood with his trusty bike, all without worrying about the threat of cars passing by.

Choi Sang-hoon’s neighbourhood was perhaps one of the most sought after-places that people would often look for in a place like that. It was a small town located far from the city proper where houses practically lived one with nature; complete with large trees becoming a part of the rural landscape of civilization. It was precisely because of the green environment and the mountainous topography of the place that made the air really fresh and definitely suitable for a morning bike ride and perfect for a young boy such as himself who yearned to enjoy his youth every chance he could.

Sang-hoon could not even count the number of times he rode the trail ever since he was a toddler just because of the sheer experience it provided; the high canopy of trees giving the pathway a cool, relaxing shade under the bright and intense sunlight. A soft rush of water could also be heard as he passed, signalling his proximity to the clean river located nearby.

It has always been like this on class-less weekend mornings for a young boy such as Sang-hoon. His mornings would be a good hour or two of watching his favourite morning cartoons all while eating a rich and fresh vegetable soup prepared by his loving mother. After that, it was the usual morning routine was to spend biking around the rural neighbourhood and bask in sweat thanks to the heat of the sun. Today, Sang-hoon decided to go to his rather unusual routes and tread on the edge of the trees overlooking the long riverbank as opposed to the usual street dwelling that he did. So far, everything was going on smoothly. He had his back rested against an old, large tree with his bike parked on one of its overgrown roots as he pondered on his next route while keeping up with his breathing.

And that was when he heard a squeal; a cry of help that clearly came from the direction of the river.

Almost immediately did it catch Sang-hoon’s attention, and on the spot the young boy moved towards the harsh slope of soil, weaving through the root and tendrils and headed down towards the cliff overlooking the moving stream of the riverbank. At that time of the day, it was surprisingly strong for what he usually remembers it to be, perhaps due to the rain that happened the night previously. Yet, he was still puzzled as to how a young girly voice would call to him in that river.

“Hello…?” he called amidst the strong splash of water as he craned his head around hoping to find the source of the voice. “Is anyone down there?”

“Help me! Someone please! I’m down here!” replied a female voice barely audible from the loud splash of the water.

Determined to find the source of the voice, the young boy Sang-hoon quickly went to the other hanging sides of the small clearing, trying to look for a good angle to find the person perhaps in trouble with the flowing stream. He skipped, hopped and jumped over open spaces as the girl continuously cried for help, and the pressure of her voice being fainter and fainter as time went by instilled a little hint of panic within the young boy’s mind.

It was when he finally finished a couple more jumps did he finally find the source of the voice. True enough, at one of the narrower and steeper ends of the clearing was a young girl dressed in a bright blue dress, her face in utmost fear as she clutched on an exposed tree root and clung on it for dear life. Her white doll shoes were covered in dirt and soil as she stood with the platform of soil; the earth she had her foot on slowly being eaten up by the flowing waters. Sang-hoon had no idea how she got there but if he could not get her out, there’s a good chance that the stream might take her away.

“Please! I’m scared!” The little girl cried. “I don’t want the water to take me!”

“Please wait for me,” Sang-hoon called back in a frail attempt to calm the clearly panicking girl down under. Finally knowing where she was exactly placed, he ran back right above where the location of the girl was and quickly thought to himself of a way to pick her up from there without putting them both in danger.

And then it hit him: a little trick he has been taught during his summer camps as a kid Scout. He removed the jacket he previously tied around his waist, laid it out lengthwise before tying one end of the sleeve to a sturdy exposed root, ensuring that it was knotted well that it can take more than his own weight. With that, he carefully descended towards the location of the girl with utmost caution, minding the length of his jacket as well as his arm to not fully focus his weight on the makeshift rope.

“Hey! Up here! I’ll get you out of here!”

The girl then looked up with fear, albeit in the fraction of second that she was able to see Sang-hoon, she felt strangely calm all of a sudden, perhaps knowing that someone is out there to fetch her out of her predicament was plausible than she first thought.

“I’m scared!”

“Don’t be! Please don’t be scared! I’m going to get you out of here! Grab my hand!” Sang-hoon said as he extended his hand for her to take. “I’ll pull you out of there, just take my hand!”

“You promise to take me out of here?”

“I promise! Take my hand, quick!”

The young girl moved to grab Sang-hoon’s outstretched hand with hers, and with the force of the two children they both yanked themselves up towards the flatter part of the clearing. Sang-hoon, with the best that his young body could do, pulled the girl in utmost effort while she frantically propelled herself upwards with whatever ground her feet could hit themselves upon. It was perhaps perfectly timed, for the moment that the girl’s feet left the small mound of soil it immediately crumbled; dissolving unto the angry stream like it was nothing.

“We’re getting there!” he told her as he pulled. “Grab that rock over there!”

Thankfully, the young girl followed Sang-hoon’s instructions as she was able to grab the protruding rock from nearby; using it, as well as some help from Sang-hoon himself, to hoist herself out of the steep cliff and onto the flatter part of the forest. However, just as the girl was safely on the top of the stable soil, Sang-hoon heard a quick cracking noise as the root he tied his jacket on finally splintered and gave up due to their combined weights before finally cracking in two

“Oh no!” the girl exclaimed from the ground above.

It was quite expected for it to do that, and so Sang-hoon acted instantly with the noise; finally letting go of the sleeve he held on his hand and swinging his weight unto the same protruding rock before his jacket was washed on the raging stream as well. Then, with utmost effort, he pushed himself out of the steep cliff; his head adorned with thick trails of sweat and filth as he collapsed beside the sitting figure of the blue-dressed girl.

“A-are you alright…?” she asked with a soft voice, eyeing Sang-hoon’s huffing figure by the ground.

“That was close…” he breathed as he turned in place to face his body up. “I barely got out of there.”

“Your face looks so dirty.”

“Hey, I just saved you,” he said back, looking towards the face of the young girl as it, too, was filled with dirt as much as his was. “What were you doing down there, anyway? The streams pretty strong… were you planning to go for a swim?”

“No… my… I was trying to catch my b-bear when it fell down there … I had no idea that it was slippery… it wasn’t like that the last time it fell…”

“You should have let it go. That bear is washed up now, I’m sure. Does this happen to you often?”

The girl silently nodded. The moment Sang-hoon turned towards her, he noticed the little graze on her knee perhaps from the rocks that she kneed while going up.

“You have a graze on your knee… I bet it’s painful.”

She didn’t respond.

“I live nearby. I can ask mom to put some bandages on that; you don’t want trains going out from that, you know.”

“’Trains’…?”

“She usually says that to me. I should attend to my wounds immediately because trains might come out leaking from them. Now,” he said as he stood up before brushing his shirt and shorts clear of dirt. “Let’s go. It’s not that far. We better get that cleaned up.”

Sang-hoon then proceeded to offer his hand to the girl in the hopes of assisting her up.

“My name’s Sang-hoon Choi. I’m eight years old; how about you?”

The girl eyed her saviour for a good minute or two before finally deciding to take the hand offered for her. She stood up and brushed the dirt off of her bright blue skirt and stifled a smile towards Sang-hoon’s direction.

“O-Olivia… Olivia Hye … I’m s-seven y-years old…”

“That’s a nice name. Let’s go, Olivia. Let’s get your knee treated.”

---

It may have been fate that bound them together after that fateful meeting for Sang-hoon and Olivia have grown with each other’s presence for almost every single day. Their encounters have far been just two people paying each other courtesy because one saved the other, but rather their friendship and companionship developed as the months passed by. Sang-hoon and Olivia have been so used to being around each other that they’re practically the best of friends. The bright ray of sunshine became a lot more meaningful for both the young friends as they became each other’s highlight for their own respective days.

As if being together through thick and thin was not enough, with the years going by (as well as both of them becoming a  lot mature in their own regard) Olivia and Sang-hoon found themselves going to the exact same school since primary school, even more so being together in the same exact class. That fact alone inevitably attracted a lot of speculation amongst their peers yet the couple did nothing to mind all of those. As far as they both were concerned, they were the best of friends and nothing else could top that.

Three years has passed since they first met each other and now the two friends stood on top of a glassy hill close to their home, and sought a small resting place under a large tree; embracing the comfort of the sunset as they overlooked their little, hidden town. In all aspects, this part of Australia was one, if not the best the country has to offer. It was so peaceful; which is what both of them loved about the place.

“…And then maybe I’ll convince mom and dad to get me a new bike for my birthday this year,” Sang-hoon said while he gazed on the lazy horizon of their little town, overlooking the carpet of indigo-orange clouds that signalled the incoming twilight. “My old one broke already and I can barely even use my legs to cycle without it bumping against my elbows. This growth spurt thing is real.”

“Uh-huh…” replied Olivia’s voice from behind as she sat leaning on the tree’s trunk, clearly occupied on something that Sang-hoon had not noticed since arriving just yet.

“Do you miss going for bike rides, Oli? It’s been a while since we did it together, and summer break’s perfect for that. It is funny how we first met because of bikes and now the thing’s giving up because of old age. You still remember it?”

“Uh-huh…”

“But now that I think of it, maybe not. I mean they’ll probably just give me what my older brother already has, you know. I don’t know, but there’s something about toys that don’t interest me. I’d prefer to go out like I usually do. And there’s no way they’re going to buy us that console… mom does not want my brains absorbed into that or something… Do you play dolls, Oli? Do your parents buy you toys?”

“Uh-huh…” the little girl replied once again in the same, preoccupied tone.

Because of that, Sang-hoon finally averted his attention from the seething horizon and looked back at his friend. Olivia Hye, even in her pink and white dress, sat glowing with the rays of the setting sun. If it was not for her undivided attention with what she was writing then maybe she could contribute something to what Sang-hoon was saying.

“Olivia…?”

“Uh-huh…”

“You smell like rotten egg.”

“Uh-huh…”

“You’re okay with me calling you a rotten egg for the rest of your life?”

“Uh-huh…”

“OLIVIA!”

Sang-hoon changed in tone definitely caught the young girl’s attention almost instantly. Olivia Hye may have jumped for a brief moment there, clearly startled by Sang-hoon’s sudden burst in voice before finally deciding to pay attention to her friend. She then supplied her with a look that was caught in between being apologetic as well as being guilty as she was well caught in the act of not listening to what he was saying.

“Yeah…? I’m sorry what were you saying?”

Sang-hoon scratched the back of his head in disappointment before walking towards the sitting figure of Olivia. He stood beside her and looked down in utmost confusion right towards her notebook right as Olivia’s hand was frozen in mid-write.

“Yah, I’ve been talking about my plans for the summer and you’re not paying attention. What are you doing anyway? You’ve been so absorbed in that thing since we came here. What is that?”

“Oh this…? It’s my diary, Sang-hoon,” the young girl replied after a short chuckle, showing him the pages of the small red notebook that were filled with Olivia’s own handwriting. “I figured if I want this summer to be unforgettable, I should write about it.”

“Hey, are you sure that you’re not just doing that because everyone else in our school does it? I often see girls writing weird stuff on their notebooks and when I ask them if I could read it, they’ll just scoff at me. They kept telling me that it was private because they kept their crushes inside there or something…”

Olivia shook her head.

“No, this is not a slam book, Sang-hoon; this is a diary. They’re totally different things.”

“They are…?”

“You know what… whatever. I’ll just write here whatever happens during the summer and you’re going to thank me for it. Mother and father always told me to cherish things while we’re still young because they said four or five years from now, everything might just be a memory. It would be fun to look back especially when crazy things happen this summer.”

“Do you really need to do that? We can remember things just fine, Oli. I don’t think writing it down would make any difference. Let’s just run down this hill and whoever goes last has to treat the other with an ice cream or something.”

“We can do that later, Sang-hoon, come on. Besides, I’m going to write our promise to each other a year ago in case my brain forgets it again. I don’t want you to use it against me because in the near future I know you will.”

He knit his eyebrows.

“Promise…? I thought it was a joke. Mom got angry when I told her about it because she said we’re still too young to think about those kinds of stuff. I don’t want her to go scolding me again, Oli, come on.”

Olivia chuckled, much to Sang-hoon’s annoyance.

“Who told you to tell it to them in the first place? I told you this would just be between us. It is what would happen in the future anyway, and you and I promised to each other that it will be like that. You still remember the promise right…?”

Sang-hoon pursed his lips.

“Yah, Sang-hoon …”

“Of course I do…”

“I’m writing that here because it’s a promise… a promise that we’re going to marry each other when we’re old enough. You agreed to it, and we’re going to do it, okay?”

“Fine, fine… sure, we’ll get married when the time comes… but if you’re just keeping it on that diary, what if something happens to that and you forget? If it would take so long before we do that, I’m sure we’re going to forget it at some point. We’re talking about, what, more than fifteen years before that happens?”

Olivia raised her head only for her keen eyes to meet his genuinely curious stare. An idea she initially thought to be ridiculous proved its point the more that she thought of it. Surely, how long could she guarantee that she could keep the notebook to herself, knowing how much of a messy person she actually is? So with that in mind, Olivia stood up and looked back towards Sang-hoon. This time, she closed the notebook-diary, clasping the pen in between its pages and offered her attention on Sang-hoon’s still-confused demeanour before proceeding to offer her hand for him.

“What’s that?” he asked, puzzled as he stared onto Olivia’s open palm before him. “What am I going to do with that?”

“You said you brought your knife whenever you went, right? Do you mind if I borrow it?”

“My knife…? What are you going to do with that? It’s just a hard plastic knife, it’s not like it can cut anything. I’m just keeping it because it’s special.”

“I need to borrow it just this once, Sang-hoon. I won’t break it, I promise. What would be its purpose if you won’t even use it just once?”

Sang-hoon, despite the weird nature of Olivia’s request, eventually gave the small flip-up plastic knife from his pocket instead of opting to ask for more questions. In turn, Olivia casually handed him the folded notebook before walking back towards the tree, plastic knife in hand.

“Hey, what are you doing? Don’t go knifing that on the trunk because it won’t work!”

He approached her in panic only to find Olivia literally carving off something on the edge of the tree’s bark-free trunk, sending loud noises from where Sang-hoon stood. Just as he was about to lean in to check what she was writing, the young girl walked in front of him and blocked his view with her own body.

“Hey! What on earth are you doing? You’re hurting the tree!”

“I’m just writing on the already open space and on the obvious dead parts. Come on, Sang-hoon, just stay there. This is about to be done.”

“What does this tree have something to do with remembering our promise?”

Right after he said that, Olivia finally moved out of the way to show her small artwork to him, cleverly made using the very knife she just took from him moments ago:

It was a small writing that comprised of both their names, “Olivia & Sang-hoon”, enclosed with what he assumed to be a rough estimate for a heart. True to her statement, the small reminder was placed on the tree’s bark-free trunk, exactly where the part of the tree looked essentially ‘dead’.

“Let’s see you try to forget that with that one on,” she said with a smile. “I bet you’re going to remember it whenever we go here, I guarantee you that.”

“I get it, but why do you need to do it on the tree?”

“This is now our tree, Sang-hoon. I know it looks weird, but at least you now have a good reason to remember it otherwise the tree’s bark would have been written on for nothing.”

“That’s so weird to put, you know. Can I have my knife back?”

Olivia handed him his plastic Swiss-knife back, only for it to completely break free from its handle the moment that it hit his hand.

“Oh, I didn’t expect that…” Olivia gasped as she stared onto the broken knife before her. “Sorry.”

“Hey, I’ve been using this for years now! Come on, Olivia why did you just… Olivia--?”

For what felt like a matter of seconds, Olivia immediately disappeared from Sang-hoon’s from to run away from him down the grassy hill, screaming her apology as she treaded the twilight-lit path down below. Sang-hoon, on the other hand, froze on the spot as he took a couple of seconds to register what had happened. He stood there holding the broken halves of the knife on one hand and Olivia’s diary notebook on the other, and once he realized that Olivia has gained enough ground from him while she ran away, did he only decide to dart after her while shouting her name amidst the forest.

And with that, the promise of Sang-hoon and Olivia’s future plans were pledged in witness of the tree overlooking the final rays of the sunset; Olivia Hye’s handwriting glaring intensively on the tree on top of the hill.

---SIX YEARS LATER---

It was needless to say that whatever friendship that Choi Sang-hoon and Olivia had cemented went on for years since that promise under the tree. Sure, it might have looked like an innocent agreement that both of them did during their youth, but as the years went by the promise still held itself as something that Sang-hoon and Olivia had going on the background. The promise was still there, lingering silently as the pair of them finally graduated from their primary school and more beyond that.

Years since that fated conversation under the tree and their bond became stronger than ever; whether it was out of utmost friendship and trust for one another or if it was a product of an unknowingly blossoming romance, both Sang-hoon and Olivia knew it was still too early to find out which is which. The pair of them got so used to being around each other that neither of them noticed how much the other has grown through all the years they spent together, and it was right at the end of middle school, on a specific incident when Sang-hoon began to notice how beautiful Olivia has become throughout the years.

Olivia Hye has always been a really beautiful person even during their younger years, but as time went by, all the beauty she had when she was young only emphasized itself when she finally reached her teenage years. If anything, Olivia went from a cute, adorable little girl to an astonishing, drop-dead gorgeous woman. Her skin was as fair as ivory, complimented by her straight, black hair, sharp eyes, and her uniquely curved smile. It was easy to say that because of her further glow-up transition that she became the cream of the crop, often having eyes lead to her ethereal beauty if only it was not for his friend, Sang-hoon.

He used to be the small, skinny kid who loved the outdoors and practically lived under the guise of the sun, but Choi Sang-hoon grew most in comparison to every young man in his age group. His youthful charm still remained there despite being absolutely overthrown by his height and physique. For someone who’s still in middle school, Sang-hoon was clearly seen taller above everyone else  and perhaps even against his seniors; on a height that was definitely impressive, albeit just enough that he (and Olivia for that matter) is not too comfortable about it. It was precisely because of this very reason that, despite his charming looks, he is often found very intimidating for those who attempt to even think about wooing Olivia Hye.

It was a cold afternoon and the sun is gracefully glazing the sky with its red-orange hue, signalling the approach of the day’s end when a fifteen-year old Olivia Hye sat on the small road-side shed eager to go home. She waited patiently for Sang-hoon to join her and in the meantime busying herself on the red diary she has been working on for years since. It was quiet for the most part, until her silence was broken by the approach of two men that she immediately recognized to be high school students from nearby.

“Oh, look at that,” one man said, and just by his statement, Olivia knew that she was already being checked upon; the heat of his gaze blaring on her exposed thighs on her school uniform. “If it is not a stray from Mulberry Science School… goddamn… are you alone here?”

“Of course she’s alone, dumbass, why else would she be waiting here for?” the other man replied with a really raspy voice.

Olivia raised her head and eyed the two high schoolers in contempt, although keeping herself calm and composed to hopefully intimidate the two boys. One guy, the person she immediately recognized to be the one that was checking on her was a slender man that had a high buzz cut amongst a really smug impression on his chiselled face. His friend, on the other hand, was a hair shorter than he was, stood with a bag on his back and his ginger-brown hair tied on a black bandanna. Both of them were wearing the all-black uniform of the Appleton High School poorly, exposing the colored shirts they wore underneath the uniform shirt. The pair had an impressed smirk upon them and loomed far from Olivia to prevent her from taking either way out of the shed, and perhaps to add an ounce of intimidation to the girl. However, Olivia was clearly uninterested and figured it was just another day of having assholes for her to deal with.

“Can I help you with anything?” she asked in a calm tone as she brought her diary down.

“Well, your name would be really nice for starters,” the guy wearing the bandanna. “My name’s Jake, and this good looking fella right here is Bruce. We’re just walking around to find some people we could… hang out with, right mate?”

“Right,” the guy called Bruce answered. “We figured a young and beautiful woman such as yourself would be bored in the middle of a roadside shed like this and we thought… maybe you can join us on a little house party, yeah? It’s going to be fun. We have a lot of girls there too, you know.”

Olivia stifled a sarcastic smile. “Sorry, but I have plans for this evening. I’ll have to say ‘no’ to that.”

“Well of course you’d say that,” Bruce replied. “We’re just concerned, yeah? We’re just uncomfortable leaving a pretty face such as you in a dark shed like this. It’s about to go night too, yeah?”

“Yeah, you’re a lot safer with us, miss,” Jake added. “We’ll make sure you’re going to be safe.”

“You’re right,” Olivia replied as she checked her wristwatch. “It is about to get dark. That reminds me that I should go ahead. Thank you for your offers and have a good night.”

She then proceeded to stand and head for the road-side on her right, only for her path to be blocked by the smug-faced Bruce. Olivia glared at him with utmost hatred, but her expression was met with a gentle smirk.

“Goddamn, you’re body’s really curvy,” he whispered to himself, but Olivia heard it too clearly as well as taking a hint of alcohol in his voice. “You’re going to leave us now, princess?”

He then reached for her hair, of which Olivia was quick to swat away.

“Please don’t touch me. Get out my way, please.”

“Aww, a sensitive one, huh,” Jake remarked from the left. “I’d like to see this one cry out for sure!”

“You’re not going to move?” she asked in a dangerous yet silent tone.

“Not until you say ‘yes’ baby. There’s two of us here, what are ya gonna do?” said Bruce.

Olivia’s eyes met his, and to his surprise, the girl they thought they had cornered gave a sly grin. The next thing the both high schoolers knew was they were flying in opposite directions to each other with Olivia standing in the middle after giving them both a hard push on their respective chests. She dismissed the annoying situation and walked past Bruce before bagging her diary for good measure.

“Ah this one’s a fighter, Bruce!” Jake yelled from behind. “Seize her, quick!”

“Come on, missy, we just want to talk, is all!” Bruce said as Jake helped her up before the two of them darted towards Olivia, who was walking calmly away from them.

Bruce was about to reach her and grab on her backpack intending to seize her like Jake said, but before he was about to reach for her, he felt a hand grip on his shoulder. Then, with utmost annoyance, he turned towards Jake only to see him having the same grip on his shoulder as well.

“Do we have a problem here?”

The two high schoolers stopped on their tracks and Olivia, having recognized the voice, stopped in place as well to turn towards the source of the sound. Sang-hoon stood in the middle of the two guys with each of his hands on either of their shoulders, looming so tall above both of Bruce and Jake that he stood almost a head taller than them. There was a brief, hostile intent from Bruce’s part; furious at the fool who dared to stop him and Jake from asking Olivia out. He was sure at that moment he was ready to make him pay for interfering, but the moment that his eyes met the tall and imposing figure of Sang-hoon, he immediately slacked back. Whatever his business was for appearing next to both of them, he was sure that Sang-hoon was involved in some sort with Olivia. With his physique and his state of not wearing any recognizable uniform, Bruce immediately assumed him to be out of highschool or worse, a delinquent.

“Hey, sister,” Sang-hoon teasingly called to Olivia as he held both of the guys on their shoulders. “Are these guys bothering you?”

“Oh no, we aren’t,” Bruce said as he brushed Sang-hoon’s grip off of him, his tone clearly changing from being previously gruff to borderline apologetic. “We’re just wondering why a pretty face such as her is waiting alone, is all. Wha’s wrong with that, yeah?”

“R-right, we t-told her it’s dangerous around here,” Jake said.

“Dangerous, huh… Is that so? I’ll have you guys know that I’m the one she’s waiting for. She’s fine now that I’m here, so I don’t think she’d need your help anymore. Thanks for keeping her in check for me, though. I’ll take it from here, guys.”

Olivia rolled her eyes and smirked.

“R-right you are. We’re leaving her to you, then. We’re just watching out for her.”

“He’s right… we’re not gonna do anything to her, yeah? We’re heading off man, shit.”

And so, in utmost panic, the two high schoolers immediately darted past Sang-hoon’s tall figure and bowed in fearing courtesy before heading back towards the direction of the waiting shed, clearly pushing each other out of the way. Sang-hoon, on the other hand, stood there smiling as he watched them panic themselves away, equally amused how he managed to scare off the two seniors just by talking to them casually.

“Take care, guys!” he called back towards them before turning to Olivia. “Hey, you okay?”

“You didn’t have to do that. I had the situation under perfect control,” Olivia remarked, beckoning Sang-hoon to join her on their journey home. “I was minutes ago from blowing their noses up.”

“Well, I figured some people need protection, you know.”

“I don’t need protection, Sang-hoon; not from guys like them. I can deal with it.”

“But sometimes you need my help, you know. You still remember how we met?”

“Shut it, Sang-hoon. I can perfectly take care of myself.”

“I’m well aware of that, Oli. By the way, I was actually pertaining to them. I don’t want them to go home with bandages all over their smug noses.”

Olivia looked back towards him and she met his eyes. There was a brief pause before both of them smiled and eventually chuckled with the small ordeal. For both of them, it was hilarious to have someone hit on Olivia for the nth time only for it to end up almost exactly on the same way.

“What took you so long, anyway?” Olivia retorted to him. “And why are you not wearing the school uniform? Did something happen while you’re still at school?”

“Oh this…? I changed for the Play rehearsal but I got too lazy to change back to my uniform. I think it’s so pointless if I’m going home anyway, so I figured I’d just walk home like this.”

“Seriously… you walked out of school wearing all black and a leather jacket. With your height, no wonder those idiots were so scared of you. You look so damn intimidating.”

“But hey, if it was not for this they might not have gone off without doing anything, so I’ll count that as a bonus. You got to admit, Oli, seeing them scurry out of here because of me was hilarious.”

Olivia sighed.

“Sheesh, I should have taught those idiots a lesson. They’re already in high school and yet they still act like elementary students. Even the kids around our neighbourhood act a lot better than them... get drunk at this time of the day…. What the hell are they doing?”

“You sound like my mom. No wonder people start to say that you’re older than me, Oli.”

Olivia gave a light slap on his arm.

“Hey! “

“I’m joking, Oli, I’m joking! You’re way too serious! Come on, you need to lighten up! Let me see that smile of yours.”

“I’m sorry. I just got upset that I didn’t get to unleash my irritation on those idiots, but maybe for the better. I’m also hungry, so there’s that.”

“Do you want me to call them back here? I recognize where they’re from with their uniforms. I can tell them that I mistook you for someone.”

“Hey, that reminds me, why on earth would you call me ‘sister’?”

Sang-hoon knit his eyebrows for a moment as he recalled, and then it hit him.

“Oh, that… well, I figured calling you by your name might be wrong. I’ll be sending them the hint of your identity and then they’ll be able to track you because you’re wearing the Mulberry School uniform, so I went to the safest route of calling you my sister. Plus, I think it adds more to the intimidating part, you know.”

“I get that, but why does it have to be a sister? Do we see each other as siblings, Sang-hoon?”

“Umm… I don’t know what you’re getting at this but maybe…? I don’t know. What else do you want me to call you so that next time I know what to say?”

Olivia opened her mouth but before she could speak, she felt herself blush. Instead of pursuing with the conversation, Olivia decided to shift the topic into something else entirely.

“Never mind, just tell me how your day went. That’s for making me wait for you after hours.”

“I guess that’s fair. So I mentioned this play, right? And I thought I’m going to have way less lines but then another actor said he won’t be able to come, so...”

Sang-hoon and Olivia’s conversation continued on until they both reached the bus stop. The young man was more than happy to lay out to his ‘friend’ how much he has achieved for the day and Olivia, being the natural listener she is complementing Sang-hoon’s adventurous personality perfectly, listened with utmost intent and enthusiasm. For her, there was something about his stories that appealed to her especially hearing how happy he is with everything he managed to accomplish. The conversation continued for until they were practically telling each other stories, especially their plans for their upcoming summer like they usually did. The end of their middle school is approaching after all, and so they mutually agreed to make the most out of the break before the weight of high school responsibility gets them fully.

It was roughly a thirty minute bus ride and the pair eventually reached their stop and subsequently dropped off of the bus before resuming their never ending stories. The sun has completely set at this point, and the only thing that was lighting Sang-hoon and Olivia’s pathway are the streetlights along the sloping path. However, if he has anything to say about it, the smile on Olivia’s face was brighter than any light on that very evening.

“You know what you should do? I think you should try out for the Dance Club, Oli. I feel like you have an unsung talent for dancing, you know.”

Olivia scoffed in return before proceeding to talk.

“You know I’m a terrible dancer, Sang-hoon; like that’s going to work.”

“What do you mean that you’re a ‘terrible dancer’? Oli, come on; you’re good. You’re not just putting too much thought into it. I’m pretty sure if you take it seriously, you’re going to do a good job. Believe me.”

Olivia rolled her eyes and smiled.

“Between the both of us, you’re more likely to be the dancer than me. You’re born to perform because you’re a very active person, that’s exactly why you’re on the Theatre and you do plays, right?”

“Yeah but who found out that I had a penchant for those kinds of stuff? It was you, Oli. You made me realize that I have something in me that I can use to share to people, and that’s amazing to think about. I want to do the same for you because I know there’s an untapped potential in you. You just need to look where.”

“Well, maybe or maybe not. We never really know what’s going to happen, do we? Sometimes fate presents its favours on the ones not expecting, so there’s that. We’ll see what happens.”

“But how would you know if you won’t try it out? Come on, Oli; the next time that I’m with you and your favourite upbeat song plays, you have to dance and you have to take it seriously. I’ll be your judge.”

“You’ll only say good things, Sang-hoon.”

“Of course, among others, yeah; but that does not mean I won’t criticize you if you need improvements, right? I mean, every great performer started as a back act, so you’re not an exception. Besides, that’s not my point. What I’m trying to say is that I know you’re a good performer and I want to see people appreciate your talents. Try it, Oli.”

“Sheesh, you’re really pushing me on this are you?”

Sang-hoon smiled before he nodded.

“I know you can do it, Oli. I want to see you succeed, and I’ll support you on whatever you do. I’ve always been like that ever since.”

Sang-hoon felt Olivia slow her pace down after a brief pause and so he did the same. He turned his eyes to Olivia’s, standing ever so still beside him as she, too, supplied him with a really sincere gaze amidst the barely-lit side street; cars passing by them with their headlights blaring on the approaching evening. There were no words to it, but that exchange surely brought some sense of sentimentality between them as if they’ve already spoken just by merely gazing at each other.

“You really know how to make my heart flutter, you know?” Olivia concluded with a smile on her perfect, triangle lips.

“Of course, Oli; I guess that’s why we’re so compatible for each other since day one. There’s only one person who could finish my sentences with ease; only one person who fits perfectly with me. That person is you, Olivia Hye.”

Olivia felt her cheeks blush, rendering her unable to reply even if she wanted to reply back.

“You know,” Sang-hoon interrupted, acknowledging the awkward silence he unintentionally made. “Maybe we should up our pace for a bit. It’s obviously later than we anticipated and I bet you’re getting hungry too. We didn’t stop for snacks when we’re near the bus stop so here we go.”

However, as Sang-hoon proceeded to walk a few steps ahead, Olivia remained silent beside him. Whether it was because he made the situation a lot more awkward than he intended to be, or perhaps Olivia’s mind was occupied on something else unrelated to what he just said. He obviously did not want to keep it that way and so he tried to open a topic in the hopes of keeping the conversation up until they go home.

“Have you tried those spicy rice cakes, Oli? I know you’re half-Korean and all, but I never saw you chow on one of those. Is it tasty? I kinda want to try it if you’re up for it.”

“Sang-hoon …”

“I’m serious. Have you ever tried it before? They say it’s really spicy with the sauce, but some people fry it until it’s crunchy. What is it called again?”

“Sang-hoon … Wait…” she said with a notable crack on her voice.

“Huh…? Why…?”

Sang-hoon stopped in his tracks to turn towards Olivia’s direction, only for him to not see her next to him. He then looked back and there he saw Olivia distanced far behind him, separated from him for about a few metres with a look of worry on her plain, round face.

“Are you okay?”

Olivia returned a gaze full of shock and anguish, her face turning pale for almost an instant that she stopped walking.

“My… my legs feel weak Sang-hoon … and my body is aching…”

“You’re just probably hungry and tired. You know how I mentioned we didn’t take a snack back—“

“Sang-hoon …!” She cried aloud; her face began contorting with pain. “Ouch! It hurts!”

Her cry felt genuine; the shrill, painful tone enough to chill him to the bone and make him act on the spot. It was that very cry that brought Sang-hoon to think that Olivia was being dead serious and simply not doing it as a cruel joke. His eyes met Olivia’s for a brief moment and her once sharp, intimidating eyes were filled with utmost fear and pain from what she was feeling from within. Olivia swayed on the spot as she lost balance, and fortunately he was quick enough to catch her before she fell completely on the ground. Now, with him kneeling on the ground and clutching Olivia’s body on his arms he was able to see her face clearly; she was sweating so much that her entire face was shining amidst the eerie light of the lamp post.

“Olivia, what happened? Are you okay? What are you feeling?”

However, there was no direct response from her. Olivia lay there on Sang-hoon’s arms, her eyes half-lidded as she fell out of motion, unconscious. Then, as Sang-hoon was panicking for seeing her like that, a single drop of maroon blood dripped from her left nostril and trailed down her cheek.

“OLIVIA…!” Sang-hoon screamed, giving her body a soft shake before turning towards the rest of the onlookers with only one thing in his mind:

“PLEASE HELP US! PLEASE, SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE!”

---TWO HOURS LATER – AT A HOSPITAL NOT FAR FROM THE INCIDENT---

Sang-hoon has been sitting on the white chairs of the medical centre for as far as he could remember, his legs tapping anxiously against the ground while he eagerly waited. It was almost eight in the evening and the hospital’s white corridors slowly became devoid of any sort of presence aside from the occasional trips of nurses and doctors. Olivia was fortunately immediately attended to the moment that the ambulance arrived to take her, but it has been an hour or so since her father and mother arrived and went inside her room and they haven’t been out ever since. He was left there waiting for  news he could only hope to be good all while the weight of exhaustion, hunger, worry and guilt all coming at him all at the same time.

It was the first time that he saw Olivia ever so fearful like that, even more so than when she was left on the river during their younger years. A part of him was frustrated that he should have had a hint when it came; he even felt entirely stupid for thinking that Olivia was merely acting for what she’s worth. He didn’t even know that she was already in immense pain then and there, yet it still remained a mystery to him with regards to what happened. The longer that her parents stayed inside her room, the more worried he was becoming for his friend.

What on earth happened to Olivia? He thought to himself as he waited. Where did that pain come from? Why did it have to happen right now?

The door from the emergency room finally opened after what felt like an eternity of waiting, and then emerged Mr Hye, a brilliant-looking Korean man in his early forties with a sleek physique, a rich head of slick black hair finished with a pair of round spectacles that went well with his casual-corporate attire. He opened the door and peeked around; perhaps looking for Choi Sang-hoon in the hallway’s waiting chairs. Having noticed this, Sang-hoon immediately sprang up and approached Mr Hye with concern on his eyes.

“Mr Hye, I’m here,” he remarked the moment that he was close towards the door. “Is she okay? Is Olivia okay, sir?”

Mr Hye stifled a smile and raised his right hand in the hopes of calming Sang-hoon down.

“It is okay, Sang-hoon. Olivia’s doing well right now and she’s awake, but I think there’s something that we need to discuss before you go in and see her. Can we take a seat first?”

Sang-hoon nodded in response and gesture for Mr Hye to sit on the nearest hallway chair. Perhaps it was from his rush that Sang-hoon’s legs felt really rubbery once he began to sit down next to Olivia’s father, but then again it was more leaning on the anxiety and anticipation with regards to Mr Hye’s news that brought a grim look on his rather young face.

“Before anything else,” Mr Hye began with a hoarse tone on her heavy voice. “I want to personally thank you for being there for Olivia when all of this happened, Sang-hoon. I don’t know what would have happened to my only daughter had you not been there for her. I’m grateful for that Sang-hoon. Thank you for being there for Olivia especially on times that we cannot.”

Sang-hoon stifled a smile and nodded in his direction.

“Olivia’s such a lucky girl that she has you in her life, and I do understand that your relationship with my daughter goes as far back as your youth which explains why you’re so comfortable with each other. This is the reason why I wanted to talk to you first before I give you permission to see Olivia inside. I know how much you value her, and so I’m going to ask a huge favour from you based off of that.”

“I don’t understand, Mr Hye. What is this favour for and what does it have to do with Olivia being inside the hospital room?”

“I’ll be completely honest with you Sang-hoon … Olivia’s not doing well.”

“What… what does that mean, Mr Hye?”

Mr Hye pursed his lips before proceeding to talk to Sang-hoon.

“I personally talked against telling this to Olivia because I don’t want to hurt her the moment she woke up, but Sang-hoon, the doctors are pretty straightforward when they told me how she was doing and how this illness would affect her in the future. For starters, they already asked if I could give them permission to run tests on Olivia because they cannot pinpoint exactly what caused all of her senses to feel weak as well as her entire body ache out of nowhere. All they could asses for now is that there is a possibility of it being an auto-immune disease that possibly targets her nervous and muscular system. We can only hope and pray that this does not complicate things for her because there is a tendency for the disease to spread over her body and attack her organs which is why we should be really vigilant on taking care of her.”

Sang-hoon froze on the spot as he looked at Mr Hye in disbelief.

“A mysterious disease that targets her nervous system,” Sang-hoon repeated. “But they can cure her, right? They can at least rid her of her pain while all of this is going on, right?”

“We cannot be absolutely sure right now. Like I said, the doctors here haven’t encountered something like this and they can’t be sure how to completely treat her. However, since the effects had just begun to manifest, they are not that sever yet, and so we need to be prepared in case things got worse. Hopefully it won’t be. I cannot stand seeing my daughter in pain like that with me unable to do anything to help her. I’d rather have myself to be in that situation rather than her. I don’t want our Olivia’s ability to move and go around to be taken away by something that felt out of nowhere because the doctors also warned me that it is a huge possibility.

“I’ll do anything to help her while she undergoes treatment. We’re already arranging a new room for her to move to once things here get settled.”

“B-but Mr Hye… you are saying that she won’t be able to walk anymore? It’s just like that that she can’t move her body on her own now?”

Mr Hye nodded softly.

“This pains me to admit too but yes, there is a tendency for her to not be able to walk if things go really wrong, but of course we’re praying for that not to happen. I’ll find the best doctors in this country to make sure none of that would transpire. Olivia’s too young to be kept inside a room waiting for a cure. This is where my favour comes in, Sang-hoon.

“Like I said, you and my daughter have been really close friends and you’re the one she trusts so much. I’m even willing to bet that recently you’ve been more with her than I am with her, and so I’m asking this of you, Choi Sang-hoon. I’m pleading on your heart that you keep watch on Olivia while we’re away. With the kind of work that my wife and I are in, it’s very hard to check our Olivia in the same way that I know you could. At least with you, I know that I won’t have to worry about her being lonely inside this hospital. I feel like with her seeing you here as she fights this disease would be one more step towards her eventual recovery. You’re the next thing she has to having a brother or maybe even more than that in the first place. Olivia trusts you, Sang-hoon, and so I do too. Can you do that for me? Can you do that for Olivia?”

Sang-hoon turned towards Mr Hye and met his eyes with his own.

“Yes, Mr Hye. Even if you did not ask me to do it, I’m going to do it for her anyway. I’ll do anything to help her recover and get her life back to normal. I know she deserves it more than anyone else.”

Mr Hye sufficed a smile and ruffled the soft curls on Sang-hoon’s hair.

“I know you would, son. Thank you so much. Let’s go in and see her. You’ve waited long enough.”

The elder man began to stand up with Sang-hoon following him. However, as Mr Hye was about to reach for the door leading to Olivia’s room he was stopped by Sang-hoon casually taking hold of his arm. There has been a question that was lingering in his head for so long now, albeit he was too afraid to ask in case Mr Hye gives him an answer that he did not want to hear. However, if he did not make a move to know for himself, the situation might strike him harder than when he’s aware of it.

“Mr Hye… this disease of Olivia… it’s not fatal, right?”

There was no response from Mr Hye’s end. He merely stood there with a grim look in his eyes, and he seemed to have realized that he was giving a false impression towards his still-hanging question. He deliberately ignore that and then proceeded to stifle a smile, something that felt forced from Sang-hoon’s point of view before Olivia’s father nodded for Sang-hoon to follow him inside.

---A FEW DAYS LATER---

Sang-hoon always dreaded going to hospitals more than any other building he had ever gone to in his life. To him, there’s something unnerving about being inside a large establishment knowing how much people are inside there with him in the brink of life and death, the fact that somewhere someone is deeply in paint without him even knowing, even more so the eerie mono-white sanitary colours of the hallways, floors, and ceilings made him uncomfortable with how clean things felt. The scent of different medicines lingering in the air was also something he found that he could not bear. However, as he had entered the very same hospital for a couple of days since Olivia has been brought here things felt a lot more reserved for the most part.

Not having Olivia accompany him going to and home from school definitely made the trip a lot sadder and lonelier than he thought it would. Despite that, there was something pleasant on seeing Olivia every day after school; and it felt akin to a well-earned reward. He always came back empty-handed during the past days but now, Sang-hoon elected to bring with him a basket of fruits to hopefully contribute to Olivia’s recovery even if in the smallest way.

 Mr Hye’s chosen room was almost similar to every room inside the rather unexpectedly luxurious hospital rooms, earning an atmosphere that felt borderline hotel-like. It was spacious for what it was, located on the fourth floor of the hospital and had a sight on the breath-taking view of the city streets below as well as the urban jungle horizon as it was finally embraced once more by night. Olivia’s hospital bed was right in the far end of the room, placed next to the window with a bedside table next to her. A round table was located not far from the foot of the bed, complete with four sets of padded seats adding to the more luxurious feel of the hospital room itself.

“Sang-hoon …!” Olivia’s face immediately lit up the moment that Sang-hoon entered the door from the left side of her bed.

“Hello, Oli. I brought in some fruits for you,” he said as she showed the small basket. “I figured maybe you’re hungry. You usually are at this time of the day so I’ll just put it here.”

Olivia smiled as she watched him place the fruits on the bedside table. Even though she was dressed in the casual hospital robes with her right hand having the connection on the nearby IV fluid post, her young and pristine beauty still showed itself through her bright smile.

“So how are you feeling?” Sang-hoon said, pulling a chair from the table-set nearby and sat beside her. “Are the nurses taking good care of you, hmm?”

“I’m feeling a lot better, you know. I’m able to move my hands and legs now unlike yesterday when they felt frozen on the spot. At least now I can write and I can do something else than just ask for the nurses to turn on the TV for me. It’s a start and I’m pretty happy with it. This is definitely better than watching TV shows anyway; having to read our previous adventures when we were little was fun to remember, really.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Oli,” Sang-hoon replied, eyeing the red notebook placed on her lap. “You’ve been writing on that notebook since we’re young, you know. I’m surprised you’re keeping the pages intact, even having some pages to write new entries.”

“Of course; it’s the one thing I’m not going to throw away. Everything looks plain for what they are because you know I’m bad at decorating diaries, right? And I’m just writing on the important days of my life anyway, and this is no exception.”

“You’re writing about your hospitalization?”

“Uh-huh… as much as it looks really bad, it’s still something worth noting, you know. I mean, how many times do you get hospitalized in your lifetime? Of course it’s something memorable, right? If anything, I feel really loved with all the people taking care of me. It’s amazing.”

“That’s… that’s a pretty weird way to put out but hey, I’m in it if you see it that way.”

“Oh yeah, Sang-hoon; you better be. It’s better than just sulking around because I’m sick.”

“Do you mind if I check what you’ve been writing on it for all these years? Come to think of it, I never thought of checking it out, not even once. You put out remembering our adventures were fun; I doubt I can still remember them exactly so maybe a little refresher would be good?”

Sang-hoon reached for the notebook on Olivia’s lap but she immediately swatted his hand away before supplying him with a pout.

“Hey, it’s not yet done. You’re going to have all the time in the world to read it soon, but for now, no. It’s not yet ready.”

“Oh, okay then. I apologize. I don’t exactly know when you’re going to deem it ‘ready’. How would we know?”

“I’ll know for sure. I also don’t want you to see everything just yet. In case my situation worsens that I can’t write in here anymore, then maybe you have my blessing to check it out. I think when I run out of pages to write on to, and then I think it’s ready.”

“Hey, don’t say that. You’re still going to finish it, Oli. You’re going to finish that diary because you’re going to get well, okay? That’s why I’m here, remember? I’m here to make sure that your recovery goes as smooth as it could.”

“Okay then, Mr Recovery,” she said with a sarcastic tone before placing the diary back under her pillow. “If that’s what you came here for, then why don’t you tell me what did I miss on this day of school, hmmm?”

It was exactly just how Sang-hoon relayed it to Mr Hye; even if Olivia’s own father did not ask his favour to look for her daughter, he would still do it. It was exactly because of this reason that Olivia’s time in the hospital was a lot lighter than she initially thought it would take. The idea of being confined in the four corners of the hospital room without anything else to do is definitely saddening. Sure, her parents weren’t always there for her but she understood the reason why, let alone not even thinking of that thoroughly because Sang-hoon has always been there for her.

Even through days, and then came weeks and months of Olivia’s treatment did Sang-hoon never missed a single day of visiting her. He would often bring her different comic books and magazines to read during her stay, even more so going out of his way and taking pictures of all the places they usually pass on every single day as they headed home as well as going ahead and teaching Olivia of all the lessons she missed at the school. He was more than determined to help Olivia out even in the smallest of ways possible, not even letting the possibility of her condition worsening as the months went by. What mattered to him the most was seeing Olivia smile, even if he was quite unaware that she was smiling because of him.

However, on Olivia’s end, she just could not bring herself to tell Sang-hoon that she was feeling a lot worse as the days went by. Her mysterious disease, of which at this point has never been named by the doctors because of how rare it was, caused her entire body to progressively feel week as well as her muscles began to slowly lose their very function. In just a matter of months, she has already shed a lot of weight by being confined too much in the four corners of her room. The nature of it being an auto-immune disease, some of her reflexes are being taken away from her as her muscles began to deteriorate in the slowest manners. Her face became pale and the skin below her eyes slowly became dark as a result of that, and even reached a point where she almost prohibited Sang-hoon from entering her room because she did not want him to see how frail and weak-looking she has become. Despite that, it was because of his very persistence and determination to help her recover that ultimately helped Olivia get through the hardest, most painful parts of her treatment until her body began to show visible signs of improvement.

Months passed into the treatment … two months… three… and then…

---ONE YEAR LATER---

It almost exactly one year after Olivia has been diagnosed with the still-unnamed illness and things felt worse than her state on the previous year. Albeit showing completely positive signs during her treatment for the past months, Olivia’s motor responses still remained limited as she still could not bear to stand on her own without support. The illness has also begun its attack on her immune system as well, rendering Olivia extremely vulnerable to different kinds of viruses and disease that circle about in the air which is why she is strictly watched by everyone entering the room.

The intense physical demand of her body has already taken its toll on her appearance as well. Aside from the visible signs of extreme weight loss, her face has gone gaunt, her eyes heavy and lips pale from all the medications she has undergone. It was needless to say that she has been really weak with everything that was going on around her. With all the medicines and the tests that were conducted, she felt more exhausted and slowly her body succumbed to the disease.

However, there was still one sliver of hope that she was clinging on to: Choi Sang-hoon. She had to survive for him for all the efforts he has done for her.

The weather has started to become colder and colder the closer that their graduation finally approached. In a matter of days, both Sang-hoon and Olivia are finally saying goodbye to their high-school selves for the next chapter in their life. As usual, he took the early day off to visit Olivia on the same hospital room holding a booklet of the graduation hymns he intended to teach her so that she could sing on the graduation ceremony as well.

He was sitting next to Olivia’s bed admiring the multitude of papers she had stacked on the bedside table. They were graduation and get-well-soon greetings combined from all of their classmates and some of Olivia’s close classroom friends. Like before, it was of course Sang-hoon’s idea to compile them for her so that she won’t feel left out from the incoming graduation day.

“Thank you so much for… for everything,” Olivia said as she placed the final message greeting for her back on the stack of papers. “It’s really amazing how you even thought of doing this for me, you know. I can already feel the graduation coming, Sang-hoon. I really appreciate it.”

“Exactly, Oli,” he remarked, supplying her with a wide smile. “That’s why on the next few days you should gather all your strength because we’re going to go to the graduation together, okay?”

Olivia stifled a smile; her pale lips almost matching her already pale skin.

“What if I can’t walk to go there, Sang-hoon? I don’t want—“

“Shh, don’t say that. You’re going to make it there because I told you so. I’m going to get really mad at you if you’re not going to be at the graduation. We started this together; we’re going to finish it together. I’m not going there without you. It’s just not the same.”

Once again, Olivia smiled.

“I’m so lucky I got to meet a person like you, Sang-hoon. You’re everything I could have asked for in this world. If I didn’t meet you back at the riverbank, then maybe I never would have been happy the way I am today.”

Olivia proceeded to plant her weary eyes on Sang-hoon’s and she immediately sensed the pity in them. Slowly, she moved her hand across the surface of the white sheets and moved to hold Sang-hoon’s with hers. Upon contact, he felt a short jolt upon her shaky touch as her skin was as cold as it could have ever been, but with that he held on to her, grasping Olivia’s hand as tight as he could and let her feel the warmth from his own touch.

“What happened? You suddenly became sentimental out of nowhere,” he responded. “It’s very unusual for you to be this, Oli. It’s worrying me.”

Olivia chuckled.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to thank you because I never got to say it before. I better tell it to you before I lose the chance to do so.”

“Shut up, Oli. I know we have plenty of time to talk to each other. Stop thanking me; all I ask for you in return is to get well for the future. We still have a lot of time to talk about what happened in the past, and into the future. We’re going to make it. You’re still going to write a lot of stuff in that diary.”

“Oh, t-thank you that you mentioned it,” Olivia said, and with a shaky grip she took her red diary from under her pillow and presented it to Sang-hoon. “Guess what? I only have room for a single entry. After that, I’ll be running out of pages to write on to, and I’ll have to write on a different notebook now. I did it, Sang-hoon, after all these years it’s finally complete. You can finally read it once it’s done.”

“You finished it? That’s cool!” he said as he held the weary red notebook with his other hand. “But you said you still needed one more entry… what are you waiting on writing?”

Olivia looked at him with a glassy gaze before proceeding to speak.

“Sang-hoon … I remember a year ago before I fainted, you were asking me if I want to eat the spicy Korean rice cake thing, right. Do you still remember the place where you said we’re going to take the cakes from?”

Where are all these random topics coming from? Sang-hoon thought.

“O-of course, I still remember it. The path is not that far from the bus stop, but it’s quite a walk from here. I just remembered that they were called tteokbokki, you know. Why did you ask? Do you want me to get some for you?”

Olivia nodded slowly, not removing her eyes from him.

“I want to know how it tastes, finally. I want to write about them and how I ate it with the person I cherish the most in this life. I want to eat them with you, Sang-hoon.”

“Wait… you mean, right now? You want me to get the rice cakes right now, Oli?”

“Yes, Sang-hoon … can you get some tteokbokki for me?”

“Are you sure you’re allowed to eat spicy food? That one’s pretty fire, from what I’ve heard. Are you sure you don’t want to do this sometime later?”

“It is really fine, Sang-hoon. I just want to eat tteokbokki with you. I had a dream about it and I want to know exactly how it tastes. I don’t think it can wait anymore. Please?”

“Okay then, I’ll go fetch some because you requested it,” he replied as he stood up, although not letting go of his grip on Olivia’s hand. “I’m pretty sure they’re still open. I’ll make this as quickly as I could.”

“Please… I can’t wait to eat tteokbokki with you, Sang-hoon.”

“Will you be okay until I’m gone?”

“Of course… I’ll just continue to read these messages again while I wait. Please make it fast, okay?”

Sang-hoon nodded before placing her red notebook beside the stack of messages. He gave a firm grip on Olivia’s hands before letting them go, and he then proceeded to walk towards the door and was about to exit it when he turned back towards Olivia’s direction one last time before going ahead.

“Don’t do anything crazy while I’m gone, okay?”

“I won’t. I still want to marry you soon, so I’ll just wait here patiently for you.”

Sang-hoon blushed for a brief moment before supplying Olivia with a wide smile, and then he closed the hospital door before heading off to fetch a cup of spicy tteokbokki in the middle of the night.

---ONE HOUR OR SO LATER---

“Damn, I got caught up,” Sang-hoon muttered to himself while wading through the large sleuth of night employees. “I hope these tteokbokki are still in prime shape.”

It was rather unexpected for the night lives of their city to be this crowded especially on a weekday and he certainly did not expect the path going back to the hospital to be filled with traffic. He initially thought it would take a couple of minutes just to go to the place serving Korean food 24/7, ten minutes at most. However, because of all the people and the band of cars he had to go through even with the brief bus ride, he was held back for what felt like at least an hour.

He did not let that sink in though, for he held the box that contained Olivia’s personally requested tteokbokki and was about to share it with her when he finally gets back at the hospital. All his work for the past hour would be really worth it as that alone was a worthwhile reward. All he got to do now was to make sure that things are still fresh before he came in.

He finally reached the hallway leading straight towards Olivia’s room and he was immediately taken aback by the sudden emergence of nurses and doctors coming from her room’s direction. He found it curious that on the one time he decided to go outside after-hours that he finally got a glimpse of what the night life was, and the hospital was no exception to that. There was a weird atmosphere in the air, though; something that was borderline unpleasant. He dismissed this as something normal, perhaps his internal dread in being inside hospitals bringing in the unpleasant feeling.

He then approached Olivia’s room, quite surprised to find it opened by about a few inches. Noises came from inside of the room but he could not tell exactly what they were as everything was muffled, perhaps from the distance.

“Oli, I got your rice cakes,” he said as he pushed the door open. “I’m sorry it took so long. I got caught on—“

As he entered, he was once again taken by surprise by the amount of people inside of the room. Mr and Mrs Hye stood beside Olivia’s bed surrounded by nurses and doctors who had their heads hung down low. He froze on the spot, trying to process what he was seeing upon the realization that the muffled noises he heard from the door were from Mrs Hye. Both of Olivia’s parents stood there hugging, trying their best to comfort each other. Mrs Hye was crying hard on Mr Hye’s shoulders that they failed to even notice Sang-hoon enter the room from the door behind them.

“Mr Hye… Mrs Hye… is everything alright?” he asked with a trembling voice, taking few shaking steps inside the humble room.

Olivia’s parents turned towards him with their eyes red and wet from the crying that they have been doing. Sang-hoon’s heart began to beat heavier against his chest as well as the trail of cold sweat trail down from his temple; there was a bad feeling as his stomach lurched on itself. As he continued his approach, Mrs Hye withdrew from her husband’s embrace to move to Sang-hoon, transferring her hug to him in a vanilla-scented embrace.

“Sang-hoon … oh Sang-hoon …” she said, weeping on the young man’s shoulder.

“Mrs Hye… what’s going on? What is happening?”

“Sang-hoon,” Mr Hye told him from the bedside. “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

He felt Mrs Hye let go of the hug and direct him towards Olivia’s bed, only for her to weep a lot harder as her husband gave her a consolidating embrace.

Sang-hoon’s heart raced heavily against his chest as he approached the bed. Olivia looked almost exactly how he would find her whenever she was asleep; her eyes were closed shut as she lay on the pillow with her right hand holding steadily of what he recognized to be her diary, laid peacefully over her stomach. If anything, he noticed something that was different from her.

Olivia’s lips curved into what appeared to be a silent smile, something he found unusual for her whenever she slept.

“Sang-hoon,” Mr Hye began the moment that he stood beside Olivia’s hospital bed. “She’s… she’s gone. Our Olivia’s gone.”

Sang-hoon’s heart skipped a beat. He then turned towards Mr Hye

“’G-Gone’…? What do y-you mean, Mr Hye?”

“M-my daughter’s g-gone, Sang-hoon … she’s gone… there’s… there’s been a complication a-and her b-body gave u-up… we got a call t-that they tried t-to revive h-her but… it’s t-too late…

“Our Olivia’s gone now…”

“N-no,” the young man replied with contempt, his lips and legs began to shake as he felt tears stream down from the corner of his eye as well. “N-no, that c-can’t be! What do you mean she’s ‘gone’, Mr Hye? There’s no way! There’s no way she’s gone!”

“Oli,” he turned towards Olivia’s resting figure on the bed, kneeling beside her... “Please wake up… please tell me that you’re just sleeping… please… I’m here. I-I came back! I have the tteukbokki you requested … you said we’re going to eat it together, right? I’m here, Oli… please wake up!”

There was no response.

“Oli, please… not like this… please… we’re still going to attend our graduation tomorrow, right? You promised m-me… Olivia… I came back here for you… No… please don’t do this to me… Olivia…. Open your eyes…”

“Sang-hoon …” Mr Hye said, placing his hand on his back to comfort him.

“I t-told you t-to not do anything crazy while I’m g-gone… Olivia, why? N-no… please… not like this… Olivia… You said we’re still going to marry each other, right? So wake up! Please….

“Olivia… no…. Olivia…”

But he could only shed his tears as he knelt beside her, his hands crumpled on the plastic that held the box of tteokbokki he brought for her. Nothing else could change the fact that Olivia’s body has now given up to the illness, that she has left the world while he was gone.

The hospital room fell silent, with only Sang-hoon and Olivia’s parent’s cries heard through the unending silence.

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---END OF FLASHBACK – PRESENT DAY---

I’ll never forget that day that I lost Olivia Hye. Everything is still fresh inside my head.

I had a lot of stuff I never told her when she was still alive. I should have said it before I lost my chance.

Her death devastated me so much that I refused to attend graduation despite being heavily convinced by my own parents. I promised Olivia I won’t go there without her, and it would not have been the same without her even if I did decide to go. I was so pained with her passing that I got bitter with life; so filled with grief that I did not even bring myself to visit her grave even after her wake. I could not accept the fact that she had died because of how unfair it went for every one of us. We all thought that she was recovering and in just one day, that disease got her before we even knew it.

I could not accept it that I refused to go out for school; I know everything there would just remind me of her and probably drive me for the worst. I locked myself in home helping my mother and father in their respective businesses whenever I could, hoping that each paper I wrote and each box I lifted would rid me of my thoughts for Olivia. However, both my parents knew that as long as I stayed there in our little town in Australia that I can never move on from her, not when everything I do reminds me so much of her and so they decided to send me to South Korea in the hopes that the new place would let my misery fade.

For the most part, I would say that it was not a bad call. I can’t blame my parents for wanting the best for me in the first place; I did not mind leaving the place because I had little reason to stay anyway. It’s been a month since I came here, enrolled in Block Berry University for a degree, and so far the change in place is really helping me out.

I just wish that she was here. Olivia always wanted to go here. She would love to be here with me.

It was an early morning and as usual I spent it seated on the far end of the classroom, right next to the window as my newfound friends barraged each other with theories from their favourite manga. I was busy staring at the far horizon when our Literature teacher, Ms Yoon, came inside with news for everyone else.

“Alright, good morning to each and every one of you; before we begin this day, I would like to introduce to you a transferee. She would be joining your class from now on. Now, please introduce yourself, Miss Son.”

A girl, huh…? I could care less. I’m sure my idiot classmates would fall for her if she’s really good looking. I’m not interested though. Let’s just hope that this new girl is not annoying.

---

The new student joining Sang-hoon’s class entered and as soon as she stepped inside the small room, she was already met with a lot of gasps from everyone else. He clearly expected this, and so he simply rolled his eyes as he turned towards the new girl, hoping to evaluate her for what she is, perhaps build a first impression.

However, the moment that Sang-hoon laid his eyes on her, his entire world froze. It felt as if the room was blown out of proportion as he began to doubt on what he was seeing. That moment, his heart began to beat hard like it has never done before, noticing the feature of the woman his eyes were laid on. His face immediately turned pale as if he has seen a ghost, but he knew deep down that with what he was seeing, maybe the new girl was an apparition.

Surely, the transferee wore the typical Block Berry Creative uniform ever so perfectly; complete with the jacket and the skirt but that was not what caught his attention. Her skin was as fair as ivory, complimented by her straight, black hair, sharp eyes, and of course, her hauntingly similar triangle smile. Sang-hoon felt he was seeing someone he was not supposed to see, freezing in disbelief as the transferee walked towards the middle of the classroom to introduce herself.

“Hello everyone,” she said with a deep voice after a short bow. “My name is Son Hyejoo and I hope we can be friends! I hope I can get along well with all of you. It’s nice to meet you all!”

---

It was an understatement to say that Sang-hoon was more than frozen with the presence of the new transferee. Sure enough, on the eyes of his other classmates, this Son Hyejoo was indeed as gorgeous as the word ‘gorgeous’ could get, but to him her presence showed something that he had not seen for so long. It was as if he had seen an apparition there in front of him and he even took a couple of blinks and second looks to convince himself that his eyes were not deceiving him. However, no amount of self-convincing and repeated checking could change the fact that Son Hyejoo looked exactly like Olivia Hye. They were so similar even down to the last detail; the way she smiles in front of the class as she greeted them, the way she silently waved her body unconsciously, her triangle smile, her body that had good proportions, everything was perfectly – and eerily- similar. It was as if he was seeing a ghost; the ghost of the person he loved standing in front of the class in flesh and bone in the person of Son Hyejoo.

“Please be nice to me,” Hyejoo said with a bow, and even her voice felt a lot alike Olivia now that he’s minding every single move of her.

What is this…? Even the way that she recoils after a bow… she’s… she’s so similar to Olivia… what the fuck…?

Who is this person?

“Alright, please treat Miss Son well. There are a couple of seats that are free, Hyejoo and please feel free to pick where you’d like to seat so that we can begin today’s lesson,” addressed Ms Yoon as she gestured towards the chairs.

“Hey, would you like to seat next to me?” The girl on the opposite side of Sang-hoon voiced out as she raised her hand to get Hyejoo’s attention; of which the transferee returned with a smile.

Surprisingly, the act of the girl volunteering to be Hyejoo’s seatmate earned a lot of gasps, ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ of amazement as Hyejoo finally made her way towards the chair; a smile clearly plastered on her face with the offer. Sang-hoon, on the other hand, had goosebumps from head to foot knowing how close he’d be with Hyejoo (or possibly Olivia in his head) seated next to him. While the young girl treaded closer, he could not help but keenly observe the details of her face and with it, the rest of her body. It also helped that her steps seemed to have slowed time itself. He knew that it was absolutely wrong and creepy to be doing the very thing that he was doing in front of the new girl, but the thought of finding answers to a thousand arrays of questions in his head overcame his courtesy and manners. It was of the small chances he would take to verify if this person indeed looked extremely similar to Olivia, or that maybe his unsaid feelings for her and the fact that he’s missing her now caused that feeling to manifest through this Hyejoo.

He had that in mind but all he felt as she approached was the very presence of Olivia within her. Hyejoo met his eyes and briefly gave a smile to him before turning back towards the seat on his immediate left, all while Sang-hoon felt his heart skip a beat with the small interaction. He felt as if he would have fainted had the small exchange of eye contact lasted a little bit longer, yet his body displayed the truth of his anxiety as cold sweat begun to trail down from his temple. The feelings were too real for him to even comprehend.

What the fuck is this? It feels like fate’s toying with me.

She looks so much like Olivia even down to the last feature! She moves like her too!

“T-thank you for asking me to be your seatmate,” Hyejoo said towards the girl as she sat beside her. “I’m Son Hyejoo; let’s be friends!”

“Hello,” the girl replied. “My name is Park Gowon and I look forward to be your friend! Here, since you’re new to class, we can share the book for now until you get yours.”

“Oh thank you so much! I really appreciate it!”

A soft shiver ran from Sang-hoon’s head down to his feet while he eavesdropped on her conversation with Gowon. He was definitely in a trance, carefully locked towards Hyejoo’s figure as Gowon did a small recap on the lessons since the beginning of the semester. If it was not for a small nudge on his right, Sang-hoon was sure to be lost in thought with the new transferee. It was maybe for the first time that he took his attention off of Hyejoo since she arrived to transfer it towards the source of the nudge.

“Damn, so she sat right next to Gowon, huh?” His best friend Hyojong said beside him as he nodded towards both Gowon and Hyejoo’s direction; his blond hair bobbing gracefully with his gesture. “If those two become close friends, their visuals would overload this entire classroom, believe me. I’m calling it right now. Gowon being alone here already causes a lot of heads to turn towards her, and now that she’s joined with another cutie... you get it.”

Sang-hoon blatantly let the impact of Hyojong’s statement to pass as he turned his gaze back to Hyejoo once again.

“I guess you’re right on that.”

“Yah, how about you, Sang-hoon,” Hyojong said, moving closer to him in order to lower his voice. “You can’t seem to take your eyes off of the new girl. I never saw you fawn over a girl like that before, huh. Is she your type?”

“Shut up, man; it’s not that… it’s just… she looks like someone I know. I… I even thought that she’s her that’s why I kept on looking at her.”

“Really…? I find her visuals really unique you know. If you’d see someone else who looks like her, you better let me know.”

“You have a fucking girlfriend, Hyojong, what the heck are you talking about?”

“I call this a joke, bro. What I’m trying to say is that… I’m surprised you know a person who likes like her because she’s definitely a girl you don’t see every day.”

Sang-hoon gazed back towards Hyejoo once again; taking in how her teeth showed perfectly on her triangle lips just exactly like Olivia did back then and he could not help but silently agree with Hyojong’s statement.

She’s not, and that’s why I’m more than happy to see her again after all these years.

---A FEW HOURS LATER---

August 13th, 20XX

It’s been a while since I last wrote in this diary and I really missed doing it. I’ve wanted to do it for the longest time, but my fingers have started to feel numb during the past weeks that I could not simply make myself write even for a paragraph. Today, I felt a slight improvement with my senses and so I decided to write while I still could, and while my body could still retain my seated position and be able to write on a piece of paper. Things have gone really worse since the last time I wrote to you, and I’m even considering myself lucky that I could hold a pen and share my thoughts here even if my fingers are trembling with every word. It was the first time that I felt sensations on my limbs and I don’t want to waste it. I’m feeling really bad now and probably worse than my body has ever been, so no matter how hard it is, I would write my best here because it has a possibility of it being my last entry forever. If it’s not, then I can just tear it out and throw it, right?

I wanted to believe that I would eventually overcome this unnamed disease and for a year since I was diagnosed, God knows I’ve given it my all through the therapies, tests and surgeries they did to me. I’ve given it everything that I have, but because it’s a rare condition, I heard that the doctors have no idea how to properly cure it. But then again, I can’t really blame them. I have been in treatment for so long that I felt like I should have died a long time ago; that I was living merely on borrowed time. I was given a chance, and maybe that was for me to properly say goodbye to the people that mattered the most. I better do this now while I still have the chance and while my body still permits me to do so.

Sang-hoon, if you’re reading this without me then it means that I haven’t kept my promise to you; the promise of recovery, the promise of a happy ending, the promise that we would eventually get married soon. I’m sorry because I won’t be able to keep any of those. My heart knows how much I have loved you ever since our youth, that the promise was not something I did just out of impulse. I have seen the man I wanted to marry one day on the day that I saw you save me by the river. Our encounter would always be one that I would cherish the most in my life and I will always be thankful that I went with you when you treated me back then. I wish it could be that easy. I wish I could just treat the pain that you are feeling the way that you treated mine. I wish it would be that simple.

I don’t want this to end like this, Sang-hoon, but I don’t think I have that much of a choice. What’s destined to happen is bound to happen, and if I’m destined to be sixteen forever, then so be it. I want you to continue with your life, Sang-hoon. The ending of my story may have been a sad one, but that does not mean that you don’t have the chance to make yours a happy one.

I know that it’s too much and shameless of me to ask, but I could not bear myself seeing you cry for too long; the thought of it alone already kills me. You have to live well and healthy unlike me, so don’t remember me for too long. Please be happy for me. Live Choi Sang-hoon. Live because I love you more than anything else in this life. Please take care of Mom and Dad for me, okay? Please make sure that they’re well after my death. I’m asking this as a favour to you, Sang-hoon.

If afterlives do exist, I promise I will find you there. I promise that in that reality, I won’t ever leave you like this.

I love you, my Sang-hoon, always and forever.

~Olivia

I don’t even know what I was expecting when I read this again. I know I read it countless times after Oli died, but after some point, I knew I had to stop doing it to myself. No matter how much I read it over and over again, there’s no excusing the truth that she was gone. Olivia was dead, and the more that I read into her final entry only drew me away from her wish of not being too sad when she left.

However, as soon as I managed to reach my apartment here in Daegu, I immediately reached on Olivia’s diary from my bedside drawer and I could not be more than thankful to have brought it here with me. I promised myself I would no longer take a peek on that one because it was too painful enough once I flip a page knowing it was filled with nothing but the dying words of the woman I loved, but this time it was different. Having met the girl named Son Hyejoo, I knew I had to look at Olivia’s final message again and perhaps pick up a sign. I know I remember her writing something on the lines of ‘finding me in the next life’, and now I just saw a class mate of mine who looks EXACTLY like her. Could this perhaps the next life that she was pertaining to three years ago? There’s no way that she’s reincarnated into an existing person already. Even I would know that it just breaks the rules like that.

Everything felt so perfectly placed. If this Hyejoo girl merely shared a physical aspect with Olivia, then perhaps I could make myself believe that the two of them really just looked alike. But with her even being on the same class as me, that could only mean that Hyejoo also went for the same course as Olivia dreamed of. I told myself, as respect for her memory I would fulfil her dreams for her, but now that I know of Hyejoo’s existence, I now doubt whether that was necessary or not.

How on earth could they look exactly like each other? It was as if they’re twins from different mothers. I know that it’s an outrageous idea, but on this sense it feels way more feasible than just fantasy, honestly.

Is it possible for two unrelated people to look exactly alike?

Or if I would put this out in a really ridiculous way, could Hyejoo be…?

Could Hyejoo perhaps be the reincarnation of Olivia in this time?

But if that’s the case, Hyejoo shares the exact same age that Olivia did, meaning at some point they both existed at the same time. They were alive at some point not knowing of the existence of the other. Plus, I’m never one to believe in fantasies because I view them nothing more than for entertainment, but I’m not going to lie that somehow Hyejoo being Olivia’s ‘reincarnation’ is something else. The fact that she showed up on the day I decide to get my life back felt as if Olivia was watching me from above. I don’t know how to react to this; and certainly I and Hyejoo’s next interactions would be really awkward as I am sure I would see Olivia in her no matter what.

I’ll have to sort myself out. Maybe associating her so much with Oli was not the best idea, especially now that I had just seen her for the first time. Perhaps once offered a second look on tomorrow’s class, maybe I won’t be seeing Olivia in her then. However, if she acts like Olivia…

I don’t know.

I guess we’ll find out.

---THE NEXT DAY---

Today’s the second day of the Literature class and I could have sworn I heard a lot of rumours surrounding Hyejoo already. Usually Block Berry’s mornings passed like any other normal universities with the half-asleep students dragging themselves to class at 7 AM, but this morning felt different. The path heading towards the main building of the Film Arts and Sciences began to be filled with senior students from various departments, and I was able to deduce much because they were wearing their jackets as they stood on the hallways. Seniors spanning from accounting to engineering courses blocked a clean path towards my morning class. Had I not been early for today’s meet, I would have been really annoyed with these people.

Why are they even here in the first place?

But it’s not like they’re flocking on a specific place thought; it felt as if they were merely just passing by and drawing their eyes on… our classroom?

After a couple of ‘excuse me’s and soft wading through the flock of students I finally managed to reach the said classroom. Apparently, my initial assumption was right and that those excess students were passing by OUR Literature classroom for who-knows-what reason. I just find it really weird that people were doing that on the second day of class.

 Anyway, I entered the room and saw that the minimal amount of classmates that I had inside were as equally intrigued as I am. The doors were filled with commotion with regards to students passing by, resulting with the hallway being noisier than the inside of the classroom. I’m actually surprised that they weren’t called out at this point. It’s a jungle out there.

“Hey, Sang-hoon,” Hyojong greeted me with a smile as I walked towards the chair on his left side. “A bit early today, aren’t we?”

“H-heya; I woke up earlier than my alarm so I just headed to school. I just figured that I…”

Damn, my voice just trailed off as I was taking the seat next to him.

I know for a fact that Hyejoo really has Olivia’s visuals, and I had a good experience of that when she first arrived at school yesterday but fuck man… her presence still did not sink in me thoroughly. Seeing Hyejoo as I sat beside Hyojong felt like I was seeing Olivia Hye again, even more so when she’s sitting there talking to Gowon. There is that small skip of a heartbeat whenever I lay my eyes on her, and it’s an understatement if describe my feeling as seeing an apparition.

I really don’t want to stay in this situation and put it in my head that she’s Olivia no matter what. If I’m going to put myself in her situation, it feels really awkward that I look into Hyejoo and she’d see a thousand hours of my memories with Olivia while both of us are complete strangers to each other. I want to know her more, for sure, and perhaps draw the line whether she and Olivia are related to some degree or not, but the situation has proven itself to be really difficult considering how much of Olivia I see on her.

I don’t want this to be unhealthy already on the second week of the semester, jeez.

“Looks like the place has been really full, you know. I’ve never had to wade through that ever since I entered school here. It’s crazy,” Hyojong said while not turning his gaze away from his phone, clearly commenting on the large sum of students walking outside.

“Since you entered school here? But I thought you’re a first year as well. We’ve just been here for two weeks if I remember right.”

“Well, you are. I haven’t told you that I’m from Block Berry High School; the good looking building that’s next to the auditorium and is the university’s HS department.”

“I… I didn’t know that.”

“Now you do. Anyway, ever since I was doing some errands for the high school teachers, I would often walk around here and I never saw the place this full. It’s surprising that it’s even this early in the morning.”

“Yeah, what’s up with them going here anyway? Is there something going on here?”

“Not ‘something’, Sang-hoon, rather ‘someone.’”

“I’m… I’m not sure I follow, man. What’s all this about?”

I patiently waited for Hyojong’s answer, yet all I could see from my peripheral was him still keeping his eyes on his screen. This time, however, instead of swiping the screen on his game, I could see him clearly typing something on a messaging app. Soon, I felt him shift from his position and carefully place the phone over my end of the long desk.

“Do me a favour and don’t read it aloud, thanks,” he requested.

I gazed down, transferring my eyes from Hyojong’s sly smile towards the screen below where he clearly had something written down for me.

I think they’re here because of the new transferee. I did some stalking around and I found Hyejoo’s Instagram and apparently, she’s really famous.

“How on earth did you even do that?” I told him as he took his phone from my desk. “How did you manage to find it this fast?”

“That doesn’t matter. I’m pretty sure this explains things a lot better,” he said, once again typing something on his phone before handing it to me in a similar fashion as before.

She has over 3k followers on IG and is a graduate from a Music School.

“Is that… is that supposed to be a lot?”

Hyojong gave me a soft, sarcastic laugh.

“Are you crazy, Sang-hoon? Do you even know how that works?”

“I know how that works, but aren’t… aren’t they supposed to have a lot more followers compared to guys?”

I turned cautiously to check if Hyejoo heard my whisper towards Hyojong, only for me to see her and Gowon standing up and perhaps headed to the women’s restroom.

“Ah perfect, they’re gone for now,” he said as he opened his Instagram, swiftly inputting Gowon’s IG profile and casually showing it to me. “Look, we all know Gowon’s pretty famous and she’s resting at 2.5k. Hyejoo has five-hundred more.”

“I get that it’s a lot, but does that mean anything…? Is the number of followers actually the basis for being famous these days?”

“Not entirely, but it does provide a good impression. Here’s Hyejoo’s IG. Check it out and you’re going to see how famous she is with how much reactions her posts get. You’ll know what I mean when I say that she’s well-known and why the people are flocking this early in the morning.”

I was reluctant with Hyojong’s suggestion because I really feel weird whenever I go stalking a person’s profile on social media, but my inner curiosity got the best me on doing against it. Initially, I was pitching on the idea of proving Hyojong’s point that Hyejoo’s really famous. However, the chance of me being able to look into her childhood and hopefully find a missing link between her and Olivia became a top priority. It was too far-fetched of an idea but if I manage to find a common person between them both, then at least that’s the start of me uncovering who she truly is.

I highly doubt it though; at this point I was more leaning on her old photos to see if she really resembled Olivia even during her youth.

With that in mind, I carefully took Hyojong’s phone with Hyejoo’s profile held on her most recent photo and began to slowly check on her posts. Somehow, Hyojong’s own proof of his point gave me a way to check into her youth. The fact that she’s famous during high school was the least of my concern, but it did provide a good enough excuse for me to check her profile. At least in this context, I could easily mask my agenda in front of Hyojong that I won’t have to answer any follow-up questions. I am interested on Hyejoo, there’s no doubt about that; but in this sense I want to know how her childhood unfolded. It was key information for me, and perhaps that alone would stop me from associating her to Olivia too much.

Still, as I held Hyojong’s phone and scrolled, there’s no denying that it was amazing how they looked like twins. The way that she smiled was similar to Olivia’s. It would even go as far as having their pictures taken on a specific way is so similar, too. Had I not know that this was Hyejoo’s Instagram profile; it was easy to assume that I took those photos myself for Olivia and only forgot it.

My eyes carefully dropped down to the likes of her more recent photos and true enough, Hyojong was not joking when he said that she has a lot of reactors on her posts. I’m not that much into social media myself but I know for a fact that having at least a thousand followers on her photos felt like a lot. She does have a way of capturing the perfect angle for the camera that her beauty just shined perfectly on her pictures. A part of me, however, felt really sad seeing these photos of her taken on such amazing angles and perfect times as well.

Olivia would have been doing the exact same things today. I know I told myself that I’d merely take a peek on Hyejoo’s posts to check her youth, but damn this makes me Miss Olivia so much. She’d love doing these photos on—

“Have you seen what I was talking about?” Hyojong’s voice came out of nowhere and it effectively shook me off of my temporary trance. “She has so many followers. No wonder the morning’s flooded the moment that the news of her transfer came out. I bet our seniors just want to see her if she really chose Block Berry Creative, you know.”

“Yeah I… I can see that… do you mind if I borrow this for a bit? I want to see more photos of her.”

Dammit, I hope that that did not come out weird. Fuck.

“Oh, well fine then; go figure. I feel a bit thirsty so I might head to the cafeteria and fetch something to drink. You want me to get anything for you?”

“I’m good man. Thank you for asking.”

“Alright then; just don’t like any of her older posts otherwise she’d know that you’re stalking her. Keep in mind: you’re using MY account, okay?”

“I got it, man. I’ll be here.”

 Hyojong gave me one look of ‘don’t do anything stupid’ before finally heading out of the door. As I looked at his disappearing figure, there were still a good number of students passing by the doorway despite Hyejoo leaving with Gowon for the restroom. It has been a good while too, which made me wonder how come the pair of them had not come back yet.

Regardless, now that I have her account for myself, I can continue my investigation.

I took a couple of long scrolls down Hyejoo’s profile, and that was largely due to her being exponentially active on Instagram that she has a lot of posts for the past months. There were vocal recording lessons, dance studio ventures, international trips… well I can see now why everyone was so interested when she moved to Block Berry. In a way, I can see how she differs from Olivia in this regard, but then I know I need further investigation for what it’s worth.

A couple of fast scrolls down her really long profile and I found a photo of her during her younger years. It was a compilation of her throwback photos including some of her childhood photos.

Fuck… I’m lucky that there’s no one around here who could find my actions to be suspicious. I should deal with this quickly.

I opened the first panel of compilations and the first batch of photos that greeted me was more of her late middle-school years. Despite Hyejoo having a different type of haircut compared to what she was sporting now, there was no denying that she had a visible resemblance to Olivia even down to the last detail. It’s like I’m seeing an alternate version of Olivia that lived on a different life; like how she would turn out had she studied in Seoul instead of Australia. I am looking through enough photos to justify that Hyejoo indeed had a life of her own before everything that’s happening and that she is completely unrelated to the Olivia I knew from across the world.

They’re completely unrelated. I can see that perfectly now.

It just baffles me that they look so alike. I would continue to revel in that disbelief until I perfectly distinguish Olivia from this Hyejoo for good.

I would say, however, that seeing these photos for myself are affecting me in a rather odd way… sad, actually. Seeing Hyejoo’s photos of her youth to her highschool and her pre-college life like this… it somehow shows me how Olivia should have been. Hyejoo somehow is the epitome of Olivia’s existence had she managed to succeed on her disease before.

I got to stop.

I turned Hyojong’s phone’s screen off after checking on the last of Hyejoo’s photos and immediately placed it on his end of the desk. It was timed too, because as soon as I did that, the figures of Hyejoo and Gowon eventually came through the door frame as they were both holding a cup of coffee on their hands. Even in that sliver of opportunity I had, my eyes were planted on Hyejoo until she reached her desk with Gowon. It would be an exaggeration to say that time seemed to have slowed itself down as I observed her path, but in reality it really felt like that. Hyejoo seemed to pause as he walked around the classroom and closer to where I was seated.  I would not have been extra concerned with it had my heart not noticeably beat a lot harder against my chest as if it was yearning to go out and leap towards her. I could also feel my face going hot just by seeing her smile curve on her lips.

“Hey, are you still alive?” Hyojong’s voice came booming from beside me after he finished waving his hand across my face. “Sang-hoon, are you on this classroom?”

“Yeah, I am man. Here’s your phone by the way. Thank you.”

“You seemed pretty occupied,” he said as he took his seat again beside me. “How was it?”

“I… uhh… I guess I saw your point. She is really famous.”

“I told you so. We’re lucky she’s our classmate; at least in some form we could manage to talk to her and Gowon. It feels like taking to the president, you know.”

“I… I guess so…”

I know Hyojong might have rambled on for seconds after that, but my mind simply spaced out as I continued to observe Hyejoo and Gowon on my peripheral. I may have found out a bit about her, but something is telling me that it’s not enough.

I want to know Hyejoo more than her photos and her reputation. I want to know who she really is.

I think I need more time.

---TWO MONTHS LATER---

Sang-hoon has spent the previous weeks and days observing Hyejoo down to the very last detail, and his seemingly stalking nature increased as the months went by, although with that he’s also making sure that he would not look too obsessed with her. Even with the abundance of university work coming his way, somehow Hyejoo’s presence motivated him to do good in his works with Hyejoo serving as his primary motivation for school. In fact, it was precisely because of her that he had signed up for the university’s Theatre club in the hopes of getting her attention. Sang-hoon had the good looks after all, and coupled with his impressive height and training during his younger years, he was bound to get his imposing presence elsewhere. He knew he had to do this knowing how frail he felt next to Hyejoo, and as a result, he never managed to exchange a conversation with her despite having months behind him.

Well, he also has to be blamed for that considering he always views Hyejoo as Olivia whenever he attempts to talk to her.

Regardless of how hard he tried, he really could not dissociate the two ladies from each other. After two months work of observing (which involved him doing Sasaeng-like stalking to the greatest of limits that it allows him to), he felt farther and farther from the answers he seek. Every time that he discovers something about Hyejoo, it felt a lot closer to her actually being Olivia. It was also the feeling; that unsung feeling of being dearly attracted to her presence that draw him mindlessly close to Son Hyejoo. He was aware of this as well, and with utmost effort he tried to keep himself at bay and still respect the privacy of the girl as much as possible.

It was the week after the first university examinations and classes were pretty much lax, and so the pair of Hyojong and Sang-hoon sat across the university fountain right smack in the middle of the campus in the hopes of letting time pass by. The lazy afternoon of having absolutely nothing to do was the reason that they decided to settle there, but not before opting to buy a good cup of refreshments.

Sang-hoon did not expect it, but somehow the pair of Gowon and Hyejoo was also seated on the far end of the fountain, admiring the sight that he and Hyojong blatantly ignored.

“Oh, look, Sang-hoon,” Hyojong teased as he had his arms rested on the long, concrete backrest. “If it isn’t your Hyejoo hanging out with Gowon again; I heard she had a hard time on our Mathematics exam. You’re good at math right, Sang-hoon? Why don’t you teach her for this term? It might be a good deal of a help, you know.”

“What are you talking about, man? She’s not struggling on Math. In fact, she’s really good at it. I don’t recall her having bad scores.”

“How did you know about that?”

“I—I saw her exam paper before she turned it in.”

“What the fuck?” Hyojong exclaimed, effectively sitting straight to look at Sang-hoon’s face. “You were peeking on her paper during the exam? Damn, I didn’t think you were the type who would do that.”

“No, I didn’t copy her answers! I… I just saw it when Mrs Kang was returning the papers. Somehow her paper ended up next to mine and her score slipped under my eyes.”

“Well, that’s progress now, isn’t it? Who among you both got the higher score?”

“Is that even important now, Hyojong?”

“It is. At least I’ll know which person I’d sit next to on the midterm.”

“Hey, that’s illegal.”

“I’m kidding, okay? Look, you got to look into the small details if you’re planning to make a move, Sang-hoon. If she’s higher than you by a couple of points then ask her to teach you, at least then you’re going to have a reason to talk to her.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary, you know. I mean, if I wanted to talk to her I could easily have done it. She’s in most of our classes and I see her almost every day.”

“If it’s that easy, then why haven’t you done it yet?”

Sang-hoon opened his mouth to reply, but the fast-paced conversation between him and his friend suddenly met an abrupt end. He thought of a reason on the back of his head and yet he could not really make out of something that was the reason for that. Hyojong, on the other hand, sat there opposite him with his legs crossed over on the stone panel and anticipated a convincing answer from him.

“I… I guess the opportunity just did not present itself. It’s pretty obvious right? Plus, I don’t want to talk to her just because I WANT to talk to her. It makes the conversation a lot more awkward, wouldn’t it? I want to approach her when there’s something to actually talk about.”

“But you have something to talk about; I’m sure you, the great Choi Sang-hoon of the Theatre Club, have some sort of dialogue planned on your head for her right? You can’t just sit around all day, watching her and hoping for the best, man. You’re not going to get anywhere with that.”

“What do you mean? What do you know?”

Hyojong paused and took a good look around towards Hyejoo and Gowon’s position. Seeing that they have already left their seats, he brought his legs back on the ground and moved towards Sang-hoon’s still-confused figure.

“You know, I’ve been playing blind these past weeks because I don’t want to be so nosy,” he said as he placed a hand on Sang-hoon’s shoulder. “But I feel like at some point, I’ll have to ask this out from you. I think that time is now. Look, I know Hyejoo’s famous as hell and she’s a really pretty girl and that might be intimidating to you, but are you sure you just want to watch and observe her from afar?”

“What…? I’m not watching her from afar… come on, man.”

“Oh no, don’t play games with me man… don’t think that I didn’t notice you looking at her whenever we’re on the same class. Even when we’re eating at the cafeteria for some snacks, you’d position yourself that you’ll have perfect view of her even if we’re sitting across each other. I even see you following her route home, so you can’t really say anything against me now.”

Wait, am I THAT obvious?

I guess during the past weeks, I slacked off of being cautious around Hyojong. He doesn’t seem to mind when I’m doing my investigation while we’re together. I got a bit too comfortable.

Maybe I should tell it to him now. He discovered it himself anyway, so if anything I think he deserves to know the truth.

“Okay, maybe I did stalk her a bit… but that’s all that is to it, you know.”

“Is it, though? Are you sure that’s all that you have to say about doing it a couple of times?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, I could say so much about your little sliver of looks for her, man. It looked to me as if you’re way too interested on Hyejoo; way more than being just a classmate.”

“Wait, there’s no rule that I can’t observe her from afar is there?”

“Sure, Sang-hoon … you can observe her from time to time, but doing it every day and every chance that you get… I think that’s something else entirely on itself. I wonder why you’re doing it though.”

Fuck… no matter how much I attempt to ride this around the bush, Hyojong felt very focused on me already. I’m pretty cornered.

“It’s nothing, I told you.”

“’Nothing’ he says… that’s not what I think. You’ve been stalking her as if you want to understand everything about her; know more things that you don’t get to see on the four corners of this classroom. You want to understand how this specific person acts when she’s not around Gowon or anybody else, and I think you’re doing that because you’re starting to like Hyejoo.”

Sang-hoon felt his ears go hot the moment the words escaped Hyojong’s lips. It’s not as if he’s forcing the idea on the table, but rather he was merely just relaying his interpretation of what he was seeing. Sang-hoon knew deep down that he can’t possibly excuse himself out of this one, not when Hyojong’s way too invested on finding his answer out. However, he was surprised that he actually looked that way towards him.

Now, he had been a lot more conscious than ever. While Hyojong waited for his response, flashbacks of all his stalking adventures for the last week began to flash unto his head. Images of whether there were other people who could have seen him stalking Hyejoo like that flung themselves like a pin-hole movie, and now that he was so deep into the situation, he could not think of a way to walk it out in case the worst comes. He never thought of it through as he was focused on the one thing he came there for: Hyejoo.

“So,” Hyojong continued after the ensuing silence albeit controlling his voice to almost a whisper. “Do you like Hyejoo or not?”

“I’m… not sure about that.”

Hyojong’s face contorted with confusion. Clearly, what Sang-hoon had said was not what he was expecting. Either of the answers in his head, he had the perfect retort to it. However, with something that vague, his rhythm was thrown off of the window in an instant.

“What do you mean ‘not sure’?”

“I’m… it’s too complicated for stuff like that now, you know. Yes, I’ll admit that I’m interested about Hyejoo and that I am slightly stalking her. Would liking her actually be the reason for that? I don’t know. I’m trying to find out too… it’s more of I’m trying to go near her because I’m seeking an answer to a question I’ve been having ever since I met her.”

Sang-hoon watched as Hyojong gave him a really unconvinced expression. The blonde guy then scratched the back of his head and placed an arm over Sang-hoon’s shoulder once again.

“You know what? You better do you. I’m not getting any of this by any degree, but in the off chance that you’re not yet ready to fully admit to yourself of your feelings for Hyejoo, then take your time. All I’m trying to say is, if you’re really interested on Hyejoo and you want to be close to her such that you can be together, then I suggest you get your ass off and go to her directly. Like I said, sitting around and waiting for a miracle to happen won’t get you anywhere. You better move fast and smart too, if I may say so myself. Since Hyejoo’s been really close friends with Gowon now, and she’s a lot more famous than she was when she first came here months ago…”

Honestly, I could care less if she’s famous or not. I need to find out if there’s even a slight connection between her and Olivia, and once there’s none then I can let this thing to rest.

I just need to know, and then I can stop.

“…I’m just saying that as an advice, but as I was saying it, I figured you won’t need it. You’re freakin’ Choi Sang-hoon; the good looking tall guy from the Theatre Club. Women all over campus know how you’re good looking on stage and a lot of them like you. You could get any fan whenever you want, which is why I’m a bit surprised why you’re having this much of a difficulty with Hyejoo. I’m sure with all your achievements, your looks, your talent, your height maybe… I’m sure she notices you. You might be waiting for each other to start the conversation, for fuck’s sake. What are you waiting for then; the end of semester?”

Sang-hoon nodded, although he was thinking deeply inside him…

I guess I could not also find the answer for that.

--- THREE DAYS LATER ---

University life for each and every student inside Block Berry Creative passed on like as it should and as always it was just another day filled with occasional requirements here and there. Luckily, things were taken a bit lightly by the professors given the schedule of the school activities, and so the following days were a lot more relaxed compared to the usual heavy hitting days of college. As a result of the more relieving atmosphere, Sang-hoon had a lot of time to think about what Hyojong had said to him a few days ago when they were at the university fountain. This afternoon was perfect in his opinion as the most of the professors went off for their regular inter-department meeting, leaving most of the students in their respective classrooms with a short activity and nothing to do for most of the afternoon.

Due to that, the hallways were scattered with students and Sang-hoon found himself sitting on one of the in-hall benches of the school with the view of Hyejoo and Gowon opposite him as the pair sat on the other side of the hall absorbed in a long, inaudible conversation. There was some significant difference, however; despite having the two of them so close to him, he had taken care of himself to not ogle too much with Hyejoo now that Hyojong knows. If anything, he was merely staring at the blank space pondering of a way and a good excuse to engage Hyejoo in a good convo. He doubts if he could do it now thought considering how occupied she and Gowon were with their talk. It also did not help that Hyojong was out, using the lax time of the university to go out with his girlfriend; leaving him with no one to push.

He could already feel it; the drive to actually talk to Hyejoo. If anything, no matter how much stalking he would do, nothing would matter unless he actually would talk to Hyejoo. It sounds really easy, if only he’s not seeing Olivia whenever he would go out of his way and talk to Hyejoo. He can’t help but feel that sense of comfort and relief, coupled with that little fear that he might overdo it and actually treat Hyejoo as Olivia accidentally. He knew himself perfectly well and there’s a good chance for that to happen whenever he decided to go for it.

There was also that odd, unsettling feeling that he’s having. It was as if people walking in front of him had their eyes planted on him, even more so now that most of the passers-by were fellow first year girls from different departments.

On that very moment, even with utmost effort of deliberately ignoring the urge to watch silently at Hyejoo, Sang-hoon felt the presence of a person walking towards his direction. The footsteps of a young woman stomped softly on the tiled floor, and every second that the closer she came, the more that he felt really anxious for whatever her business was with him. It also did not help that he could see her hands on her back, clearly hiding something from him.

“Umm… e-excuse me… you’re Sang-hoon, right?” the girl said with a small voice with a notable tremble in her sentence.

“Yes, I am… can I help you?”

Sang-hoon turned his gaze to finally meet the girl’s bright brown eyes, and instantly recognized the somehow familiar face. The girl was a fellow first year as he was as well, shyly smiling through her straight-cut shoulder length hair along with a sly, pink shade on her cheeks. Sang-hoon recognized her to be the girl that was taking up an Accounting course and was often front-seated on his theatre rehearsals and shows and sometimes she would often be seen having a conversation with their set designer. He was sure that she’s not a member of the club given how she only shows up during practices, and neither have they even started a conversation prior to what was happening that time. There was a sudden uncomfortable feeling from being next to her, and he knew that there was something bound to happen because of such encounter.

“H-hi… I’m… my name i-is Yeojin… “ the girl mused and this time she avoided Sang-hoon’s inquiring stare as she bowed her head out of sight. “I… I-I’m from the Accounting department a-and… And I’m a huge fan of y-you…”

Sang-hoon could merely listen to the girl as she stood there, and because of her stance, some students around the pair have begun to stop and eye them for a second. He could see that there was something behind her judging by the excited and interested faces of the people standing beside her, and whatever it was drove him really anxious. He and Yeojin was the centre of attention at that very moment; even Hyejoo and Gowon stopped their ensuing conversation to observe what was going on with their classmate from Language class.

Holy shit, what is happening? Sang-hoon thought to himself as he trembled in place observing Yeojin’s body language. What does she have behind her? And Hyejoo’s watching too! What is going on here?

I should say something. She’s clearly out of her words.

And why is she so nervous in front of me? Her actions are unintentionally drawing the crowd! I need to say something!

“Oh… I… I’m flattered, Yeojin… t-thank you. I do recognize you from the rehearsals… I appreciate that you like the theatre club’s work…”

Is that okay? Did it make the situation worse?

Fuck, if only Hyejoo was not watching me right now. It’s so unsettling.

“Y-yeah… I’ve… I’ve been watching you s-since you joined and… I’ve been a huge f-fan of you, Sang-hoon…”

“Thank you…”

“B-but I’ve… I’ve wanted to give you something… y-you did well so much on the last play and I loved your role in it… and…”

Yeojin raised her head up.

“I… I want to confess that I like you, Choi Sang-hoon.”

Wait, what?

SHE SAID WHAT?

“Please accept this… please accept my confession,” Yeojin said without even exchanging eye contact with her, and before he could react, Yeojin finally drew her hands from her back.

Sang-hoon froze on the spot as he looked at Yeojin’s figure, her head bowed down and kept out of his sight while a box of chocolates rested on her palms.

Her action caused a lot of gasps and ‘ooh’s to ooze from the surrounding students, admiring her astounding courage to admit her feelings on broad daylight just like that. Some students were even clapping their hands in support of Yeojin’s confession and beckoning him to accept the pretty humble gift. Sang-hoon, on the other hand, was completely taken away by what he just heard and what he was seeing just now. A part of him wanted to make Yeojin repeat what she just said in case his ears were playing with him because of the situation, but the chocolates on her arms are way too much of an evidence to prove that what he initially heard was true. He could not understand the reason though on why Yeojin chose to confess in front of so much people, especially now that everyone else around him already saw Yeojin’s figure holding a box for him that they’re now expecting an answer from his end.

Perhaps that was the reason. Maybe Yeojin chose to give him the chocolates in public that the chances of him accepting it would heighten. It was really admirable, considering it was even Yeojin who had the guts to confess of what she feels. He was flattered and definitely amazed, and under normal circumstances he would have easily accepted her gift just like that.

But this was definitely a different circumstance and it most certainly isn’t normal…

The situation was different because a specific person was watching… Son Hyejoo

He could not understand why his mind was telling him to not accept the small gift just because Hyejoo was there. Somehow her presence felt everything to him; that with Yeojin showing up with a gift for him was something he did not want to happen, let alone have any other succeeding encounters with her after that confession. He wanted to accept it before, but now his mind was panicking with regards to how to politely decline it without looking like an asshole in front of everyone else.

However, there was not much of a choice. In his head, he would either look like an asshole in front of everyone but he’d be honest with Yeojin and himself, or pretend that he would accept it and reject Yeojin later. Either way, it would have involved him rejecting Yeojin anyway, and so his mind went for the easiest thing to do at the spur of the moment and he immediately stood up; quickly earning a flock of reactions from the crowd as he towered over Yeojin.

“I… I’m sorry but I can’t accept it,” he said with a tremble.

Yeojin, along with everyone else gasped with what they just heard. The young girl raised her head and planted her gaze to Sang-hoon, possibly hoping that it was the latter’s idea of a joke to lighten things up. However, instead of the usual handsome face of her crush, it was the pitiful look of Sang-hoon that greeted her.

“What…?” she mouthed.

Sang-hoon’s eyes went to all places, scanning the crowd before him in case a violent reaction was to occur. His eyes eventually rested towards the figure of Gowon and Hyejoo on his left, equally anticipating the unfolding of the events as much as everyone else was, and throughout that deal, he felt his eyes gazing back to Hyejoo’s for the first time ever.

“I can’t accept it,” he said clearer this time while keeping his eyes planted on Hyejoo. Sang-hoon then turned towards Yeojin’s waiting figure and spoke with a trembling voice. “I-I’m sorry.”

He raised his gaze once again, this time meeting the eyes of all the onlookers on Yeojin’s back who have circled the hallway for the commotion. Once again, he mouthed.

“I’m sorry.”

And with a state of panic, he left Yeojin where she was standing and quickly weaved to the wall of people behind him, not even bothering to give a single glance back to the girl he rejected and to the Hyejoo who was the reason why he rejected Yeojin in the first place.

---

Choi Sang-hoon kept his feet walking for as long as he could; quite determined more than anything else to leave the scene as quick as possible. On his way out, he was met with a lot of angry, confused and surprised eyes as he expected, but none of those deterred him from taking the step out of the building and heading off somewhere else. The Film Arts department was not a place he wanted to be at that moment and it was convenient that there was a meeting going on at the afternoon that he could easily decide to ditch this afternoon’s classes for good.

He could not bear to see the aftermath of what he had just caused, not now that Hyejoo had first-hand seen what he had done.

Have I done things right?

His feet finally found themselves walking towards the locker room of the school’s Sports Club, not far from the university’s own covered court. It was this series of door-less mini-rooms that lined the hallway like extended bathroom stalls, with each room having a decent set of lockers lining against the three surrounding walls. Thanks to the absence of afternoon activities, most of the said locker rooms were void of any presence of students, given the athletes who were supposed to practice might have called it a day and headed on off. If anything, Sang-hoon was quite happy that it was empty because he could not bear see anyone else there with him. Considering he was a member of the school’s Sports Club himself as a game panel judge, he has a locker on the far end of the hall and so his existence there won’t be that much a surprise in case a fellow club member manages to present themselves there with him.

He walked towards the farthest right room of the hallway and moved the small steel chair to rest against one of the lockers before resting himself, but not before placing his small bag on the floor. With a rather audible bang, he leaned his head against his locker and recalled what had transpired on that afternoon. Sure enough, his actions would change the course of Yeojin being his fan of some sorts, yet that would not entirely be a surprise considering he practically shamed her in front of the crowd.

What the fuck did I just do?

I could easily just taken those chocolates and just kept them somewhere, and then I could have talked to Yeojin in private and explained my side of things. I feel like I acted so much on the moment that I took the easiest way out.

God, I look like an asshole in front of those people.

Why did I act so conscious in front of Hyejoo like I was so afraid that she might think of me differently?

Shit… no, she has nothing to do with this. Whatever happened to me and Yeojin was entirely my fault and dragging Hyejoo here would be me making excuses for being such a dumb asshole.

Fuck… I need to sort this out tomorrow because there’s no way that I’m going through this in the afternoon.

I’m heading off home after this. I’ll just bid Hyojong good luck because I’m sure as hell that he’s going to get bombarded with questions.

And as he sat there for minutes pondering on his own plagued thoughts as well as taking in the soft squeaks and cries heard from the basketball court of the university, he heard a set of male voices enter the private male locker room engaged on a loud conversation as if they’re not next to each other talking. With the volume of their voices, Sang-hoon could not help but eavesdrop with what they’re talking about even if he elected not to listen. He heard their steps shuffle on a parallel room to his before the three sets of voices continued on their conversation.

“That was a fucking killer of a try-out,” echoed a voice from a senior that Sang-hoon had been acquainted on, and clearly with the tone of his voice, he was gloating about something unruly he did once again. “Can you see the look on that poor shithead first year’s face when I threw the ball right at him? Dumb idiot didn’t even saw it coming!”

His annoying tone was then followed by a series of laughter from his squad that Sang-hoon hated the most.

Shinichiro Takagi was a Japanese student who was two years older than Sang-hoon. His sharp eyes and permanently arrogant face scared almost every new student in Block Berry Creative, as he and his supposed friends thought themselves to be absolute kings of the court. Takagi was physically fit, even more so muscular than most of the people on his year and so took that to his advantage of harassing every person who tries out for the basketball team.

He was one of the reasons why Sang-hoon dreaded auditioning for the basketball club when he did it, as he was not interested on teaming up with a person he deemed to be an asshole from the top down. It was needless to say that their first encounter together did not end up well, with Takagi interpreting Sang-hoon’s decision to ditch basketball for another sport to be an act of cowardice, even going far to call him as a ‘tall waste of space because he did not have the balls to go against him’.

Sang-hoon immediately wanted to go out of the locker room for as soon as Takagi and his goons take note of his presence, things might not end well. His day was pretty fucked up already and having it worsen because of an ego-eating maniac like Takagi would just make things worse for what they already were.

The best thing to do is to wait their presence out. He figured at some point they’ll get tired of the locker room and go ahead to mess up something else. However, it is a pain to listen to them.

“Yeah, I hope that shithead won’t pursue the try-outs,” another person’s voice agreed with Takagi’s statement. “I can’t bear to see his face on our team. He’ll just be a frail pushover.”

A third person laughed before proceeding to speak. “This year’s first years are a fucking disappointment, Takagi. I can’t see a person who’s worth our time and fun like last year. Everyone else seemed to be so addicted to academics like they’re going to die without it.”

“Well, there’s one interesting person. Takagi, I’m sure you’ve heard of the transferee at this point, right?”

“Oh yes,” Takagi replied after a series of clangs and crashes from their locker room was heard. “You mean that transferee who’s a famous as fuck, what was her name again? Was it Son Hyejoo?”

Sang-hoon’s heart skipped a beat, and he moved out of his chair to listen to what they have to say about Hyejoo.

“Yes, that’s her Takagi. I heard she’s really a hottie and friends with the first years’ Gowon, too.”

“Yeah I’ve heard about that girl and I’ve seen her too. I got to say, that first year has a body worth worshipping; she has the body of a slut and she’s oh so luscious to look at. I can’t even emphasize the number of times I imagined myself getting blown by her, let alone ripping that ripe cunt and filling her in with my cum.”

A series of laughter occurred among them once again, and Sang-hoon tried his best to compose himself as he remained hidden on the far end of the room.

“You’ve seen her body right? Those goddamn heavenly curves must be really nice to lick while you’re banging her from behind. If I had the chance to bang that bitch, I’ll make it sure as hell that she’ll cum all over me while I fuck each of her holes. We’re going to have one hell of a good time because that person sure looks like a pretty little fuck toy to me, and sure as hell I’ll share her to us three.”

“But I heard she’s not interested on getting on with anyone. Pretty much every one who tried to woo her has failed miserably, Takagi.”

“Oh bitch please,” Takagi gloated once again. “All girls are the fucking same. They act as if they’re so pure being so picky, but they all cry and moan hard in the bed when they get a dick that’s too much for them to take. Believe me, that Hyejoo’s no different; I bet that she’s even a loud moaner.”

That was it.

Takagi has reached the tipping point of Sang-hoon’s patience and tolerance.

It was almost on the same manner that he remember seeing the two guys three years ago; the very same high school seniors who were hitting on Olivia when she was waiting for him to go home. Back then, he perfectly left Olivia for herself knowing how she can handle herself without him. However now, he felt like he was the only person who could stop this sexualisation before it even begins. There was a perfect difference between Hyejoo’s and Olivia’s situation but now he could only see Takagi and his cohorts verbally harassing Olivia before him, and he could not take it.

He stood up from the locker rooms and the force of his body leaving the metal panels emitted a loud clang, and as he walked angrily towards the direction of Takagi, he could still hear them gloating about their devious fantasies about Son Hyejoo.

“… and that’s exactly what I’m going to do, man. I’m going to ask her out and when I do, I’m going to do everything that I can to make her cry,” Takagi roared, along with the smirks of his friends. It was only when he noticed the figure of someone else standing upon the entrance doorway of the small locker room that he began to stop from talking.

Noticing the sudden change in atmosphere, even his two friends stopped and turned their attention towards the door upon which they finally saw the figure of Choi Sang-hoon glaring at them with his fists balled up.

“You got a problem?” Takagi asked in annoyance. “Do you have anything business standing up there, dumbass?”

Sang-hoon ignored his statement and proceeded to walk in the locker room, keeping his eyes glared against Takagi. In caution, Takagi stood up and brushed his lengthy blond hair out of his face to further scoff at Sang-hoon while his friends notably took a defensive stance against him. The three guys were seated and leaned against each of the lockers lining the walls of the small room, greatly gloating around a small wooden bench situated at the middle of the lockers. Each of the three seniors wore their own combination of jerseys and shorts covered with their own respective jackets, with Takagi being the most recognizable amongst them three with his lengthy blond hair swaying as he stood up against Sang-hoon with his friends.

“Hey,” he added once again as soon as Sang-hoon was inside the room. “You got a mouth, huh?”

“Not as dirty as yours, Takagi,” Sang-hoon replied in the most informal and disrespectful way he could deliver it. “I don’t like what I’ve been hearing, especially about that new girl Hyejoo.”

Takagi scoffed.

“Oh, you’ve heard what we’ve been talking about? You don’t like me telling you what I’m going to do about her, huh? What are you gonna do about it, newbie?”

“I want you to take it back.”

“And what are you gonna do if I don’t want to?”

Sang-hoon walked closer to him, around the bench in the middle of the room. Takagi’s friends, despite wanting to help him against Sang-hoon, were clearly intimidated by the young man’s presence. After all, Sang-hoon towered them with over a head of height difference.

“Take it back, Takagi. Take it back while I’m still asking nicely.”

“I’m so fucking intimidated. You’re just a first year, what are you gonna do? You’re just one of those idiots who fantasize of being romantic with the Hyejoo girl just because you’re being a white knight—“

And before he could even finish his sentence, Sang-hoon reached for the jacket’s collar, pulled Takagi up and slammed him on the lockers with a loud bang. The sudden action of Sang-hoon earned an immediate response with the seniors and so the two accomplices of Takagi held each of Sang-hoon’s shoulders back.

“I told you to take it back!” Sang-hoon roared, giving Takagi a slight shake and in turn inciting his friends to move Sang-hoon away from him.

Takagi, however, smirked.

“I just recognized who you were, kid. You finally got the balls, huh? Your dick finally rose up because of that Hyejoo?”

“Give it up, idiot,” his friend to Sang-hoon’s right said. “Are you expecting to take us on 3v1 here? You want to prove something to yourself?”

Sang-hoon got caught of himself after realizing the odds, and so he gently lowered Takagi from the grasp while he kept his head low.

“I’ll let this loose for once, bitch,” Takagi scoffed. “You could’ve just asked me for turns and I would have considered giving it to you.”

Sang-hoon’s grip tightened once more on his collar, and that statement was the one that cause his mind to go blank.

In an instant, the Takagi and his friends’ voices inside the locker room were replaced by clanging metals as Sang-hoon drove a quick, heavy fist against Takagi’s gut and slammed his body against the metal door of the locker behind him. The Japanese man grunted in pain, prompting the two men beside him to act against Sang-hoon.

However, Sang-hoon saw this coming when he thought of punching Takagi, and so as soon as he punched him in the gut, Sang-hoon immediately swung his hand towards the man on his right and it quickly hit him squarely on the abdomen. He felt the man on his immediate left push his shoulder back and effectively break his grasp with Takagi, and with that Sang-hoon launched his leg straight towards him; effectively pinning him away as he turned his attention back to Takagi again.

The Japanese senior had just begun to get on his feet when he saw Sang-hoon swing a fist on his stomach again. The impact caused him to gasp in pain, but before he could recover and perhaps follow up with it, he grabbed his jacket again and picked him up before slamming a fist against his face. Takagi fell sideward and crashed onto the foot of the lockers as his friends began to stand up.

Sang-hoon, being too fixated on glaring at Takagi’s collapsed figure, failed to notice that the man on his right had stood up. As soon as he turned his attention to him, the man already had his fist in mid-swing and it hit him on his right cheek. The force threw him back equally similar to how Takagi fell, but instead of crashing onto the floor he felt arms grasp his shoulder as the senior who punched him prepared for another punch.

“Hold that son of a bitch, Dae Jin!”

“Go ahead, Min Joon!” The person grasping Sang-hoon, Dae Jin, breathed. “I got him now!”

Min Joon charged with his fist. Sang-hoon, however, having lengthy proportioned legs, had no trouble pegging Min Joon with his leg before he could even reach contact. He drove a swift kick against Min Joon and sent him tumbling down back towards the lockers once again.

Sang-hoon then drove his entire body back using his legs and took Dae Jin with him, and similar to Min Joon, he crashed against the lockers with absolute force that caused him to lose grip of Sang-hoon. Sang-hoon turned towards him and raised Dae Jin’s face up before punching his face with strong force. Then, just to make sure that he would be taken out of the picture as Sang-hoon would deal with Takagi and Min Joon, Sang-hoon kneed his crotch with all the force he could muster and left him groaning as he fell to the floor.

Takagi had managed to get up once again and swung a fist against Sang-hoon, of which hit him on the other side of his face. Sang-hoon saw Min Joon getting up as well and prepared to join Takagi on beating him up, and as he got knocked aside he reached for the metal chair where Min Joon sat previously. With one great swing, he launched the metal chair against the pair of them which effectively missed Min Joon but hit Takagi on his arm. Sang-hoon gave him another kick, forcing him back against the lockers as he turned his attention back to Min Joon.

Min Joon, however, took the small window of time to launch a fist on Sang-hoon’s gut.  He swung another fist against him to hit him on the face, but on Min Joon’s third attempt Sang-hoon quickly weaved out of his fist. On a split second, he saw a small opening on the nearby locker and he quickly opened it to hit Min Joon in the face to temporarily startle him. Then, he kneed Min Joon deep on his abdomen with the force causing him to bounce against the lockers behind him. Sang-hoon caught him on the head upon impact and slammed the side of his head on the lockers twice before leaving Min Joon to collapse on the floor, groaning with pain.

Takagi had started to push himself back up when Sang-hoon punched his face again. He then held Takagi up and slammed him against the locker’s a couple of times before glaring at him once again.

“I told you to take back what you said against Olivia,” Sang-hoon said with a pant.

“Fuck you, Sang-hoon; and who the fuck is Olivia?”

Sang-hoon glared once again and slammed him against the lockers before launching punches on Takagi’s gut and face out of anger. And then with all the force that he could muster, he grabbed a now-beat up Takagi by his jacket and his stomach, lifted him over his head, and slammed him back-first against the wooden bench in the locker room, effectively breaking the bench with the huge impact.

Sang-hoon stood there huffing and panting as he witnessed the three seniors he just beat up crawling and groaning in pain with what he just did. Only after the adrenaline rush had passed did he realize how painful his face was. He had bruises and cuts on both sides of his face with his nose dripping with blood, and it was only then did he realize how me managed to take on three of them at once.

A shuffle of footsteps were then heard from the entrance of the locker room, and in a couple of seconds the Badminton coach, Mr Hwang, stood on the locker doors’ façade in disbelief as he is followed by a handful of students getting to check on the commotion as well.

“What happened here?” Mr Hwang said with a clear look of surprise on his face. “Mr Choi, why is the locker room on such a mess?”

The locker was full of dents, three students were lying on the floor groaning of pain with chairs and debris all over the place, while one tall first year stood in the middle of the locker with a bloodied face and his fists balled up. If anything, it was one sure fire way to get them to the Office of the Student Affairs.

However, from Sang-hoon’s perspective, there was nothing more important in his head that moment than to give Hyejoo’s harassers the treatment they deserve. A part of him felt fulfilled even though there’s a good chance that he’s looking at a huge punishment.

--- SOME TIME LATER – AT THE OFFICE OF THE STUDENT AFFAIRS---

“So can you tell me that again,” the young Guidance Counsellor asked as she eyed the four guys seated on her office with their faces full of bandaged bruises and cuts. “This first year right here; Mr Choi, beat the three of you seniors up three on one? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

The three guys, notably seated on the wooden bench closest to the door, barely even replied to the Guidance Counsellor as they merely looked at her in embarrassment while they winced from the pain of their bodies. Min Joon held the side of his head with an ice pack while they’re being questioned; Takagi was gently massaging his shoulder and back, while Dae Jin still had his hands over his crotch area.

“You three won’t speak up?” she said once again before turning towards Sang-hoon. “Fine; I don’t know how this turned out this way, but do you mind explaining why did you beat three of your seniors straight up?”

Sang-hoon, who was seated on the chair in the immediate right of the table’s front, did not even bother to reply as well as he merely shifted his gaze on the student seated opposite him. The student was a second year student he knew from the sports club, but the reason why he was exactly there seated opposite him really baffled him with regards to his connection with this issue.

The Student Affairs room’s door then opened followed by the entrance of the head of security, Ms Jo Ha Seul. She entered the room with her usual black blazer and pencil skirt, oozing with a strong authoritative presence as well as a flowery scent that immediately filled the room. Ha Seul walked with a notable charm, holding a piece of flash drive on her hand as she approached the counsellor’s desk.

“Here’s the piece you requested for, Vivi,” Ha Seul said onto her which made Counsellor Vivi really red. “Let’s get a cup of coffee later?”

“Ha Seul… we’re in the office and in front of the students. Please don’t call me by that here,” she whispered to her as she took the flash drive from her hand. “Thank you for this, and yes let’s get coffee later.”

“Work hard,” Ha Seul said before leaving the room, but not before eyeing the three beaten-up seniors seated near the door.

Counsellor Vivi just shook her head in disapproval of Ha Seul’s behaviour, although she merely shook it off in favour of the video she requested. She figured that Sang-hoon and the other seniors won’t talk, and then perhaps the CCTV footage of the entire deal would speak in behalf of them.

Sang-hoon, on the other hand, was reasonably confident that the footage would yield the reason why he beat those three up. He was more worried of the student in front of him; sure, he was brave to tell it straight to Counsellor Vivi like that, but what if those three get back at him for standing against them? He won’t be able to do anything then and that’s what’s concerning him.

A few minutes passed involving Counsellor Vivi watching the short video with her earphones on, and eventually she raised her beautiful head of hair and eyed each of the five people that were seated around her. Sang-hoon was certain that there was a moment of hesitation and disbelief upon her the moment that she set her eyes on him, but was soon disregarded as she began to speak.

“So, I guess your story was not so crazy after all,” Counsellor Vivi towards the sophomore in front of her. “I admire your courage for standing up for Mr Choi here. What’s your name again?”

“A-Avarice, Ms Vivi; my name is Jake Avarice.”

“Thank you, Jake. I’ll take note of your participation for this… event that Mr Shinichiro here started. Please bring this note to your professor so that you’ll be excused for the classes you missed while you’re here. You can go now.”

“T-thank you, Miss Vivi”

The second-year gave Sang-hoon a curt not. Whether it was a nod of acknowledgement or a nod wishing him good luck could only be interpreted by Jake Avarice himself as the European student exited through the door without giving a second look to the three beat-up seniors.

“Excuse me, Ms Vivi,” Min Joon said as he held unto his head. “You’re just going to let that kid go without doing anything? We just fought on the lockers and he did nothing but bug around and eavesdrop?”

“Mr Yang, as far as I remember it was YOU, Mr Im and Mr Shinichiro here who started that ordeal on the lockers. From what I could tell, Mr Choi here was provoked because Takagi said awful things about his friend.”

“What?” Takagi interfered, raising his voice against Ms Vivi. “Why would he not be held liable here? Look what he did to us! We’re going off school because we’re injured!”

“Watch your tone,” Counsellor Vivi snapped with a dangerous shift on her tone. “This isn’t a place to shout, Mr Shinichiro. Yes, we’re not going to remove the fact that Mr Choi here was indeed included in the scramble that happened and sure he did beat the crap off of you three at once. However, I’m still holding this against the three of you because of your reputation in this office. How many times have the three of you earned a trip here because of harassment for the lower years?”

Takagi opened his mouth to reply, but he closed it as soon as he realized he lost count.

“That’s what I thought,” Ms Vivi continued. “I’ve gave you three countless warnings during the past, and I’m the last person that’s standing between you and expulsion. I don’t want to expel students and I don’t want your parents to suffer because of your antics. However, I feel like I have to do something in order to preserve the atmosphere of the students here. I’ll have to punish the three of you.”

“What? Ms Vivi, only us three? How about the person who beat us up…? We’re going to miss so much on the school activities and our education!”

“You should have thought about that before it went to a situation like this, Mr Shinichiro. I’m giving this as your final chance and warning as this is the very last thing I could do to keep you three in Block Berry. As punishment, I’ll be writing to your families with regards to what happened today including your past meetings with me. They’ll be made aware of what you’ve been doing here and how much trouble you’re causing me…”

The three seniors groaned.

“If I could not discipline you three well, then I bet your parents could. Perhaps they could trim down those huge egos of yours and maybe teach you that violence and threat is not always the answer. Oh, and let’s not forget how vulgar and nasty you three treated our new student; and to ensure that you better get this on your heads, I’m including a two-week suspension for the benefit of the students here with a permanent revocation of your membership for the basketball team.”

Takagi and Min Joon could only sit in disbelief with what they just heard. They knew they fucked up and for real this time; there’s no real way out of it. They’re suspended and worse, they might get a lot of scolding. Dae Jin, on the other hand, sat there still holding his crotch.

“You better think of what you three did. I’ll ask you three to kindly head off to the waiting room of the Office and wait for further orders,” Ms Vivi said as she gestured towards the door nearby. “Don’t do anything bad or else I’ll make sure that you’re expelled for good.”

Without a second word, the three of them slowly walked towards the door on the far side of the room with a clear display of disappointment on their face. They could not even bring themselves to look at neither Sang-hoon nor Ms Vivi as they exited the small office.

“As for you, Mr Choi,” Counsellor Vivi began as soon as they were left alone. “While I admire your courage for standing up against those three, that does not mean that I approve of what you did to them. Avoid getting into fights as much as possible, okay? Can you promise that for me?”

“Y-yes, Ms Vivi,” he replied softly as his face still ached with the beating he received previously.

“Normally, I’ll give you some sort of punishment for that, but I’ll take in to consideration how you gave me a reason to get them suspended by school law. I’ve wanted to do that to teach them a lesson but I haven’t gotten the proper reason to do so. I’ll also consider that you’ve never been summoned here before, and that you stood up against them because of what they’ve been saying to your friend. With that, I’ll make sure that you won’t have any records for this incident. As far as I’m concerned, you’re not going to get any bad records for your actions.”

Sang-hoon raised his head up in disbelief.

“This will be just a one-time thing, though, so please behave for the rest of your stay. I’m only letting you off because I admire your courage for standing up against them. The absence of punishment would be your reward for that. Is that alright for you?”

“Y-yes, of course Ms Vivi; thank you so much!”

“I still can’t believe how you fought those three-on-one. Regardless, that’s it for today. You’re good to go. Let me just finish this slip for you as you would be excused similar to Mr Avarice previously.”

“Thank you Ms Vivi--!”

And before he could finish his sentence, the door to the Office of the Student affairs swung open with force, and upon turning his head it was the sweaty and panting figure of Hyojong that stood on the doorway with his eyes wide open looking at Counsellor Vivi.

“I’m sorry for barging in, Ms Vivi, but it’s not Sang-hoon’s fault! He did nothing wrong! He just defended himself against those three seniors!”

Ms Vivi merely smiled as she handed Sang-hoon his excuse slip, but not before proceeding to ask him a question.

“Is he your friend, Sang-hoon?”

“Umm… actually yes, Ms Vivi…”

“That’s perfect. He can take you out of the office now.”

“What?” Hyojong asked, clearly confused.

“I’ll take care of him, Ms Vivi. I apologize for that, and thank you for the consideration.”

Counsellor Vivi nodded.

“That’s alright; just make sure that next time you come here, you won’t be filled with bruises, okay?”

“Yes, Ms Vivi,” Sang-hoon said, giving her a final bow of courtesy as he attended to Hyojong by the door.

“Wait, did you tell them that you’re innocent, man?” he said as Sang-hoon gently pushed him out of the door way to close it. “Are you in detention right now?”

“It is okay man, come on. We’ve sorted it out so let’s go. Don’t embarrass yourself in front of Ms Vivi.”

And with that, the pair of them exited the door after closing it, earning a brief smirk of amusement from Counsellor Vivi.

---

I can’t believe that I really got off. I’m fortunate enough that that thing won’t get to be stored against my name, at least for now.

“What happened there, Sang-hoon?” Hyojong said as soon as we exited the Office of the Student Affairs. “Did Miss Vivi let you out because she knew the truth? Did you get punished?”

“No, no, man; I’m really fine. Aside from my bruises on couple areas, I’m no really worried on anything else. Yes, that includes Miss Vivi. She let me go clear of all charges, which is a relief.”

We treaded across the hallway from the office and I can’t help but notice how much people have been staring at me as we walked. It was only then did I realize how alarming my actions were, and now I’m sure everyone else that had their eyes on me knew what happened during the locker rooms.

It also did not help that I walked out with Hyojong with obvious bandages plastered all over my face.

Shit, I did not think this through when I assaulted Takagi and his boys…

“So, how on earth did you beat Takagi and his friends?” Hyojong asked and I could sense a tone full of curiosity in his voice. “Did you really beat them up, three on one like they said?”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve heard the entire story at this point, man. I don’t think I have to confirm anything about it.”

“Damn, you really beat them up. That’s amazing, man. I wish I could have been there and watched it.”

“It’s fine; Hyuna-noona would kill me if anything else happened to you so no thanks. So, I got excused of my activities for the afternoon and I don’t think I have classes left for the rest of this day after the meeting. Should we go home now?”

“Not yet, Sang-hoon; actually, I’m… I was asked by someone to do a favour for them. Someone really wants to talk to you after what happened.”

Huh?

Who on earth would want that?

“Who is it?” I asked him eagerly as we turned on a corner. To my surprise, Hyojong stopped walking and it ultimately caused me to halt my steps as well.

“It’s her,” Hyojong said, gesturing in front.

I turned my gaze from him towards the two figures standing on the pathway ahead, and my heart skipped a beat. Son Hyejoo stood there in the middle of the hallway with her bag on her shoulders and a shy smile on her face. Beside her stood Park Gowon who had an expression that seemed to be in between of curiosity and confusion.

“Hi…” Hyejoo began.

Shit, of course she might have known what happened.

Oh no, don’t tell me she knew that I beat those seniors up because I was trying to defend her.

Fuck, now this got a lot more awkward. Shit.

“Hyejoo and Gowon here actually came to me and asked if… if they could talk to you,” Hyojong explained.

“Actually, I’m not in this,” Gowon interfered, giving us a curved smile. “It’s only Hyejoo that wanted to talk to you, Sang-hoon.”

“I’m… I’m actually nervous right now,” said Hyejoo, and I could tell her face turned a slight shade of pink. “Do you mind a couple of minutes, Sang-hoon?”

Is this real?

I’m going to talk to her?

“Yes, sure; I don’t mind.”

“We better get going then,” Hyojong said but not before giving me a soft pat on the back. “I’ll wait on the grounds when you’re done.”

“Hyejoo-ya, I’ll go too. I’ll see you on the café,” Gowon seconded.

And with that, the pair of them walked out together and essentially leaving me and Hyejoo alone along with some onlookers.

God, this is so fucking awkward. I never viewed our first conversation to be like this! I’m sweating head to foot and my knees could barely make me stand! This is not the perfect time to talk like this. I might screw this up!

“Let’s get in the classroom. There are a lot of people watching us right now,” she said.

I could only nod in response as I followed her inside, begging the heavens that whatever would follow might not be as bad as I’m thinking it to be. Hyejoo closed the door behind us, much to the disappointment of everyone outside who were hoping to at least get to hear the conversation of the two students who made the afternoon interesting.

Well, I better not screw this up. I’m alone with Hyejoo, holy shit!

“So… I don’t know how to begin this,” Hyejoo said as she leaned on a long table while I stood in front of the professor’s desk. “This isn’t the way I thought I would meet you… umm… how are your wounds now? Do they still hurt?”

Dammit, I should compose myself. I’m feeling so tense out of nowhere.

Choi Sang-hoon, where’s the damn courage that you used to beat those three seniors a while back?

Why are you chickening out on Hyejoo?

Don’t think that she’s Olivia, please.

Don’t think that she’s Olivia.

“I… It’s nice to meet you, actually and to finally… to finally talk to you, Hyejoo. I’m… I’m still kind of hurt, but it’s nothing major… nothing that I can’t take.”

“I… I heard about what happened, actually…. I’ve been made aware of what happened and why you… why you beat those seniors. I’m… I’m actually flattered.”

“You are…?”

Okay calm down, Sang-hoon. Make it easy for her to talk to you. Come on now.

“Yes… I mean, I am very flattered that you got out of your way to… to protect my name from them. We both know that we haven’t talked ever since I got transferred late here so… so the fact that I was the reason for what happened to you made me glad that you were there for me even if you did not have to do it. But it… it also makes me feel guilty…”

“Wait,” I blurted out. I know where this is going and I have to stop it before it even starts. “Umm… I know it feels really wrong that this turned out the way it did, but I have no regrets on doing that to them including the consequences that came with it. I got angry because of what they were saying about you… I figured you didn’t deserve it because they have no right to tell those nasty things to you. My mind went dead and the next thing I know I was standing in front of their crumpled figures.”

“I really appreciate what you did, Sang-hoon. You could have just let them be but you defended my name…”

I was spacing out as I deliberately drew my gaze away from her. I can’t bring myself to keep our eyes on contact because I feel like I’m going to melt. Seeing Olivia on her is the last thing I want to happen in this moment.

However, as I turned my gaze away I felt her approach my figure. Then, Hyejoo circled her arms around my free waist and gave me a tight embrace. I nearly lost my mind. I did not know what I was supposed to do at that moment, and I could feel my senses increasing a thousand-fold because of the contact of skin.

My stomach is turning on itself as if a flock of birds circled within.

“Thank you, Sang-hoon. I’m really touched.”

Holy shit

After a brief moment, Hyejoo finally broke off of the hug and stood in front of me.

“I always wanted to try to talk to you because of all the people here; you’re the only one I haven’t interacted with yet even after months. I would really have viewed our first meeting under a completely different circumstance, Sang-hoon, but I’m glad that it turned up this way. At least, I no longer have to think of a reason to talk to you out of nowhere.”

She then proceeded to hold my hand and examine the redness of my knuckles. The sensation of her touch sent thousand jolts of electricity all over my spine.

“Please, just allow me to apologize for what happened to you.”

“I… umm… I’ll accept that apology then, but only because you asked nicely, Hyejoo.”

Also for her to stop because I can’t let this first convo ever to be here just apologizing...

“I… We’re still going to talk after this, right? You’re okay with us being friends?”

“Are you okay to be friends after what happened? I hope I didn’t give a bad impression because of that. I hope that it’s not weird.”

Hyejoo grinned and her smile was the first time I ever saw her like that.

Damn, she’s so…

“I’m not really one to judge, Sang-hoon. Like I said, I’m really flattered on what happened and I still want to be your friend, regardless of what impressions I’m supposed to feel after that.”

“Well then, let’s be friends Hyejoo. I’m glad that we’ve been able to talk, finally.”

We smiled mutually towards each other and it felt it lasted for a couple of minutes. Surprisingly, it was not awkward, but rather peaceful. I cannot explain where the sense of familiarity and comfort is coming from and I’m sure even Hyejoo felt that.

“Sorry, I stared for a bit too long,” Hyejoo finally said as she broke the silence. “I can’t help but feel like I’ve seen you before, you know; it’s as if I met you before. I feel that there’s a sense of de javu whenever I’m around with you, and I can’t explain why because I don’t feel that on anybody else.”

Well, I feel the same way too Hyejoo…

I feel…

Wait, did she say that she knew me before…?

“But it’s just probably me. I’m sorry if I’m too vocal on what I’m feeling, but I feel like I had to tell it out. I’ll… umm… I’ll have to go home, Sang-hoon; I don’t want to make Gowon wait for a long time and I think you should rest your wounds as well. Shall we go?”

My mind was held in limbo after what I just heard. It felt as if thousands of alarms are going off of my head the moment that Hyejoo said that she might have met me before. She and I already exchanged our farewells and after that I still could not remove it in my head; she said she knew me from somewhere…

What could she possibly mean by that?

Hyejoo and I finally separated our own ways after that and yet I could still not remove that thought in my head. I was so ready to give up the idea that she’s Olivia, but now the signs have gotten a lot stronger.

This feeling…

This gut feeling that draws me closer to her…

I have to get this on track. I have to grab the opportunity that I lost before.

I’m not losing Olivia again, not this time.

I’ll have to ask her out.

---

#loona #olivia hye #kpop female idols #kpop story #kpop gg #son hyeju #loona hyeju

[sweetness-doesnt-touch-my-face]

I'm trying to think of a way to put this while still sounding like a rational adult. I know I'm not alone in this. I know there's a reason why suicides tend to rise during the holidays. Christmas is my favorite holiday. There's something magical about a month that can typically bring most people together. The consensus that we're all human, and we all deserve at least one day of the year that guarantees happiness.

However, that simply isn't a reality for a lot of us.

I'm not celebrating Christmas this year. It's not by choice. My family has never been completely well off. We do struggle financially. So this year was no surprise, but it's still a sad one nonetheless. We can only afford to buy each other one present. I'm not buying anything for myself. We will not have that great feast around the table. We most likely will not even put up a tree let alone decorate our home.

And it sucks. Christmas was the highlight of my childhood. Up until a decade ago, I still had that child-like giddiness of cannot waiting. Counting down the days with utmost glee. Now I dread it. I already suffer from seasonal depression, even during the summer. I hate that I can't count on one good day. This year was a colossal failure for me.

There will be no spirited morale or season of joy. I hate that I can't spoil my family. I hate that we can't go all out like we used to. My grandmother is now entering her nineties and I can't stand that the last one with her will probably be dismal. I can't help any of this. The only thing that makes me the tiniest bit happy is giving presents to others. I adore the gesture.

As I write all this, I'm acutely aware of the fact that the people of Ukraine will probably have a worse time than just about all of us. People won't have houses to decorate. They won't be able to share a big hearty meal. They probably don't even allow themselves to think about buying presents. And lastly, there will likely be fewer loved ones to sit with.

Winter is coming. Most don't have electricity let alone heating. Soldiers need appropriate clothing. The very least the country deserves is to have the means to look after themselves. If god truly existed, my only wish this christmas would be for the war to end. That Ukraine gets restored to its former glory. That there's more love in their hearts than sorrow.

That people can LIVE.

If donating to help those who desperately need it is something you'd consider. I highly implore you to do just that. You can reliably donate via this link to any preferred cause. If you need double the incentive, there's a great Ukrainian-based online store called Saint Javelin. Their merchandise and apparel are simply the best. All the proceeds go towards the recovery and war efforts of Ukraine. You won't regret it.

I thank you from the bottom of my heart for whatever you may choose to do. Not everyone will have a happy christmas, myself included. But if we can take care of each other and try to make someone else's life a little brighter.

I believe that's what christmas is truly about.

https://u24.gov.ua/

https://www.saintjavelin.com/pages/winter-is-coming

#glory to ukraine #slava ukraini

[delfiore]

don’t wanna stop when we dance like this

pairing: florence pugh x reader

synopsis: the world fell in love with the actress, you just fell in love with a dorky girl who loves to cook and dance.

word count: 0.7k

a/n: since it was flo’s birthday recently, i will pause on the angst for now. enjoy this short drabble and happy new year to you all!!

now playing:

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Florence liked to pretend that she’s on a cooking show whenever she cooks. That entailed narrating whatever she was doing for you, her audience.

“Darling, will you pass me the oregano, please? In the cupboard.” You were also her sous-chef, apparently.

You moved to the cupboard and returned by her side with the spice she requested. Instead of handing it to her right away, you held it far away and puckered. She giggled and leaned into your lips.

Unlike most days, you woke up extra early today to shower Florence with love and affection. You made her breakfast in bed, gave her a foot message, ran her a bath, did every possible thing you could her to make up for your absence the day before, her birthday. A work emergency forced you to fly back home on New Year’s Day and you couldn’t come back to England in time.

Florence was understanding when you told her, but you didn’t miss the slight falter in her demeanor as you broke the news to her. You felt utterly guilty to have to abandon her on her birthday like that, so you wanted to spoil her as much as you physically could.

“What?” She smiled.

“Nothing.” You shook your head, realizing you had been zoning out.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You wrapped your arms around her waist and kissed her shoulder from behind. “I’m just looking at you.”

When she let out a mocking groan followed by a hearty laugh, her body vibrated against you, giving you so much glee as a cat’s purr.

You loved moments like these, when it would only be you and her — and Billie sitting obediently by her feet, waiting for a sneaky treat — in your shared home, doing the utmost mundane things. She was a big source of inspiration to you for writing your songs. Though you never publicly confirmed your relationship, you were sure people could put two and two together when they listened to your music and saw those paparazzi pictures of you and Flo, in which you were too careless to conceal your affection for one another.

And Florence, your dear Florence, never once not advocated for you. The first time you met was when you were told that Florence Pugh was at one of your shows. You made it your mission to bring her backstage, and the rest was history. She has always been your biggest fan, and the first person that you showed a new demo to. While she loved everything you made, she could also be brutally honest, and you appreciated that.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for your birthday.” You mumbled into her shoulder.

“It’s okay, love.” She reached over to pat your cheek. “You’re here now.”

“Actually, I had to leave because there was a problem with this new song I’m writing. We finished it yesterday though. Do you wanna hear it?”

When she nodded, you took your phone out of your pocket, connected it to the speaker, and played the demo. You watched nervously as she stirred the stew, and gradually started bopping her head to the song.

Suddenly, Florence dropped the ladle she was stirring with, and grabbed your hands. You let out a surprised laugh as she began to sway her body vigorously to the music.

“Flo!” You exclaimed amidst a laugh.

“In case you didn’t get the memo, I love it!”

You continued laughing as she let go of your hands and started bouncing up and down, occasionally hooting at parts of the song she particularly liked.

“I’m assuming it’s about me, yeah?”

You nodded and grinned widely.

“Good.” She tapped your nose and pressed a kiss to your lips.

The moment of contentment was cut short when bubbling and hissing sounds caught your attention. The stew had overflowed and was spilling all over the stove.

You quickly turned the heat off, all the while still giggling, as Florence quickly took the pot off the heated stove, a string of curses leaving her mouth.

You exchanged a glance, her grimace soon turning into a beautiful laugh.

The world fell in love with the actress, you just fell in love with a dorky girl who loves to cook and dance.

#florence pugh x reader #florence pugh #florence pugh imagine #florence pugh imagines #yelena belova x reader

[slightlycrunchy]

Dadmight, ♖ or ♗ please

Hair washing it is! Send me dad prompts

read on ao3

This got so soft: hair washing, caretaking, bnha manga spoilers, post hospital injuries, 1.4k words

It is only after they’re home, standing in the foyer of Toshinori’s borrowed dorm room at UA, that Toshinori asks.

“Can I wash your hair, my boy?”

Midoriya looks up at him with dazed eyes, hooded from the strong painkillers running through him and the bone-deep exhaustion that lingers from his body trying to mend itself. Toshinori pointedly doesn’t look down to the two casts that lay limp at the boy’s sides. For a moment Toshinori isn’t sure if Midoriya has registered what he has said.

Soon however, a small, lazy smile crooks up the boy’s mouth. “Is it that bad?”

Toshinori looks at the ragged mess on top of Midoriya’s head with a soft expression. Flattened in places from days on end spent lying down, tussled in others from the sheer force of lingering dirt and sweat that rags and spit washes alone couldn’t quite care for, Toshinori shrugs.

“It could do with a scrub.”

Too many times over the last number of weeks in that horrid hospital room did Toshinori want to reach out and run his hands through that hair, soothe the nightmares and fix the mornings that his boy would disappear into, eyes staring at nothing as he shuttered away into his own head. On those days, Toshinori would talk about absolutely everything and absolutely nothing in equal measure. Sometimes it helped, he thinks, Midoriya slowly returning to the present, blinking his eyes as if he had only been asleep for a while.

Toshinori always greeted him with a smile when he came back.

“This way, my boy,” Toshinori gestures, leading them down the hall into the spacious bathroom Nezu had had the foresight to install. The principal had also been generous with Toshinori’s shower arrangements, installing a deep tub with a shower attachment and built-in seating. He has never felt more grateful for it than now.

With a little help, Midoriya dresses down into just his shorts, torso bare to the cool air of the bathroom. The bruises have mostly healed, fading into pale yellows and greens, deeper wounds knitting together nicely under dissolvable stitches that will still remain for a few weeks more. The hospital had sent the boy home with cast guards—glorified plastic bags that fit snugly around white plaster, which Toshinori carefully applies in case the water goes places he doesn’t intend.

For a while, there are no sounds other than the rhythm of their breathing mixed with the crinkling of plastic, the soft running of water cocooning the room in a thin haze of steam as it’s left to warm, and Toshinori takes advantage of the calm to observe Midoriya.

The boy’s gaze is still softened, as if he isn’t quite sure what’s going on, but by the way he responds to Toshinori’s guiding touch and hums an affirmation when Toshinori asks him a question, he isn’t worried too much.

The boy looks beaten.

Emotionally as well as physically, he looks like he has taken on the weight of the world, and after it had slipped from his shoulders, he mourned the loss of it.

The doctors said his arms would heal given time, and Toshinori will never be able to forget the relief that had brightened the boy’s skin for the first time since he had woken up in the hospital, hooked up to too many machines and bound under too many wires. But soon enough the grey had returned when Midoriya was faced with just how much of an uphill battle his recovery would be, dark freckles fading into the dullness of his skin.

Today had been a good day, the boy brighter than ever that he could go home, something he had talked about incessantly for days, and even now with just the two of them, the boy still looks better than Toshinori thought he would.

His boy has always been resilient.

“In you get, Midoriya,” Toshinori says when they’re done, helping the boy through his clumsy steps that suggest his legs aren’t entirely under his control right now. Once Midoriya is seated comfortably, arms held stiffly in front of him, Toshinori grabs the detachable showerhead and brings it around to the boy’s back, letting the warm water begin to run down his bare skin.

“Mmm…” he hums, his eyes closing slowly. Toshinori huffs a laugh.

“If that feels good, just wait until we actually get started, my boy.” Warm water like this must feel close to heavenly after so long without a proper shower. Without another moment wasted, Toshinori begins.

He discovers that Midoriya’s hair is surprisingly long as he runs the water over the boy’s scalp, drenching the strands until they are dark and hanging heavily just past his shoulders. Grabbing the shampoo, he places the showerhead aside, working a generous dollop into his hands before applying the product first at the scalp, working it to the ends.

Midoriya simply comes undone.

More hums of contentment make their way from the boy, his body swaying with every push and pull from Toshinori’s long fingers. He uses them to massage Midoriya’s head, taking every moment to not just clean his hair, but to make him feel good; Toshinori can’t bear for this to be purely utilitarian.

If anyone deserves a gentle touch right now, it’s his boy.

As he works, Midoriya’s posture slackens, his spine bending forward in small increments until Toshinori is nearly bending over to reach him, hands covered in so many bubbles they’ve all but disappeared.

“Alright, Midoriya, time to rinse.”

When the boy doesn’t so much as nod his head, Toshinori finds he isn’t surprised.

Midoriya stays upright even as Toshinori lets go, and this suggests the boy hasn’t actually fallen asleep even though he would probably like nothing more than to do so. Looking down on him and his relaxed posture, Toshinori has an idea.

His hands are still covered in suds, but he reaches around anyway, pushing gently at the boy’s chest to straighten him enough for his body to lean back into Toshinori’s other waiting hand. When Midoriya’s head falls back, neck fitting snugly into Toshinori’s open palm, and the older man finally gets a good look at Midoriya’s face, his heart feels unbearably warm in his chest.

Midoriya’s face is slack, mouth open slightly with eyes closed, his face the utmost picture of comfort. Toshinori’s insides twist in a form of glee that he keeps carefully quiet, not wanting to disturb the peace that has fallen over a boy who after fighting for so long deserves any rest he can find.

With his free hand, Toshinori continues, grabbing the showerhead once more and letting the water run as white rivers through Midoriya’s hair, taking all the evidence of the boy’s battles with it. Dark green strands weave in and out of Toshinori’s fingers as he moves the boy’s head back and forth, encountering no resistance from the tired body in his palm, Midoriya’s lax mouth only widening a little more with each turn of his head.

It strikes Toshinori, as the last of the shampoo is washed from the boy’s head, just what this is.

Pure trust.

This boy has taken on the world, winning in some ways and losing heartily in others, and yet when things go quiet and the darkness recedes and they come together again, two parts of a whole (and isn’t that even truer now, Toshinori thinks, peering down at the shattered remains of this child’s limbs that rest just below him), this boy does not shrink. No, his heart remains open and kind, seeing the good around him that remains, and he still places himself into another’s care; one that isn’t quite sure if he deserves such unwavering confidence.

He may be unsure, but if Midoriya deems him worthy, he will strive not to disappoint.

“Midoriya, my boy...we’re done. Time to wake up.”

The boy’s head is still slack in his hand as weary eyes blink open, a small, dopey smile lighting the boy’s face as he stirs awake.

“All Migh’? Done?”

With a nod, Toshinori helps the boy sit upright, twisting his hair to remove the last of the water. Already his curls have begun to spring upward into relaxed ringlets, and Toshinori can’t help but wrap one around his finger before letting it slip away. He has a small smile he can’t seem to get rid of as he helps the boy out of the tub, drying him off and helping him dress with as much modesty retained as possible, a task that will be difficult for Midoriya to accomplish on his own for a while.

Midoriya looks ready to collapse by the time they’re done.

“Sleep now, my boy?” Midoriya nods.

His head hardly has time to hit the pillow before he’s out like a light.

#dad might #dadmight #my writing #bnha #my hero academia #hurt/comfort #fic #prompts

[nashvilledreams]

My Naya, my Snixxx, my Bee. I legitimately can not imagine this world without you.

7 years ago today, she and I were together in London when we found out about Cory. We were so far away, but I was so thankful that we had each other. A week ago today we were talking about running away to Hawaii. This doesn’t make sense. And I know it probably never will.

She was so independent and strong and the idea of her not being here is something I cannot comprehend. She was the single most quick-witted person I’ve ever met, with a steel-trap memory that could recall the most forgettable conversations from a decade ago verbatim. The amount of times she would memorize all of those crazy monologues on Glee the morning of and would never ever mess up during the scene… I mean, she was clearly more talented than the rest of us. She was the most talented person I’ve ever known. There is nothing she couldn’t do and I’m furious we won’t get to see more.

I’m thankful for all the ways in which she made me a better person. She taught me how to advocate for myself and to speak up for the things and people that were important to me, always. I’m thankful for the times I grew an ab muscle from laughing so hard at something she said. I’m thankful she became like family. I’m thankful that my dad happened to have met her weeks before I did and when I got Glee, he told me to “look out for a girl named Naya because she seemed nice.” Well dad, she was nice and she became one of my favorite people ever.

If you were fortunate enough to have known her, you’ll know that her most natural talent of all was being a mother. The way that she loved her boy, it was truly Naya at her most peaceful. I’m thankful that Naya got that beautiful little boy back on that boat. I’m thankful he will have a strong family around him to protect him and tell him about his incredible mom.

I just hope more than anything that her family is given the space and time to come to terms with this. For having such tiny body, Naya had such a gigantic presence, a void that will now be felt by all of us - those of us who knew her personally and the millions of you who loved her through your TVs. I love you, Bee.

My favorite duet partner. I love you. I miss you. I don’t have words right now, just lots of feelings. Rest In Peace Angel, and know that your family will never have to worry about anything.

We started out as the closest friends and then like all new things, we went through a bit of a rocky phase. However, we stuck by each other’s side and created the most beautiful friendship built out of love and understanding. The last I had the chance to see you in person, I had left oranges outside our home for you to take. I wanted to say hi through the window but my phone didn’t ring when you called (which it never does, f*cking T-Mobile), so instead you and Josey left two succulents on our doorstep as a thank you. I planted those succulents and I look at them everyday and think of you. I still listen to your EP on repeat because from the moment I heard it, it struck me and I always wished the world knew more of your voice. You sent me over 5 dozen SnapChat videos when you and Josey woke up in the morning and I kick myself that I didn’t save one of them. You always shared recipes and I admired your love for food. We vowed to spend every Easter together, even though Covid stole this last one from us. You are and always will be the strongest and most resilient human being I know, and I vowed to carry that with me as I continue to live my life. 

You constantly taught me lessons about grief, about beauty and poise, about being strong, resilient and about not giving a fuck (but still somehow respectful). Yet, the utmost important lesson I learned most of all from you was being a consistent and loving friend. You were the first to check in, the first to ask questions, the first to listen..you cherished our friendship and I never took that for granted. 

We never took photos together because we mutually hated taking pictures...our relationship meant more than proof. I have countless pictures of our babies playing, because we shared that kind of pride and joy. So I’m showing the world a photo of our little goof balls for you, because I know that meant more than anything and they remind me of you and I. I speak to you everyday because I know you’re still with me and even though I’m feeling greedy that we don’t get more time together, I cherish every moment we had and hold it close to my heart.

There are no words and yet so many things I want to say, I don't believe I'll ever be able to articulate exactly what I feel but... Naya, you were a ⚡️ force and everyone who got to be around you knew it and felt the light and joy you exuded when you walked into a room. You shined on stage and screen and radiated with love behind closed doors. 

I was lucky enough to share so many laughs, martinis and secrets with you. I can not believe I took for granted that you'd always be here. Our friendship went in waves as life happens and we grow, so I will not look back and regret but know I love you and promise to help the legacy of your talent, humor, light and loyalty live on. 

You are so loved. You deserved the world and we will make sure Josey and your family feel that everyday. I miss you already.

She was bold. She was outrageous. She was a LOT of fun.⁣

Naya made me laugh like no one else on that set. I always said it while we were working together and I’ve maintained it ever since. Her playful, wicked sense of humor never ceased to bring a smile to my face.⁣

She played by her own rules and was in a class of her own. She had a brashness about her that I couldn’t help but be enchanted by. I also always loved her voice, and savored every chance I got to hear her sing. I think she had more talent than we would have ever been able to see.⁣

I was constantly moved by the degree to which she took care of her family, and how she looked out for her friends. She showed up for me on numerous occasions where she didn’t have to, and I was always so grateful for her friendship then, as I certainly am now.⁣

And even as I sit here, struggling to comprehend, gutted beyond description- the very thought of her cracks me up and still brings a smile to my face. That was Naya’s gift. And it's a gift that will never go away. ⁣

Rest in peace you wild, hilarious, beautiful angel.

How can you convey all your love and respect for someone in one post? How can you summarize a decade of friendship and laughter with words alone? If you were friends with Naya Rivera, you simply can’t. Her brilliance and humor were unmatched. Her beauty and talent were otherworldly. She spoke truth to power with poise and fearlessness. She could turn a bad day into a great day with a single remark. She inspired and uplifted people without even trying. Being close to her was both a badge of honor and a suit of armor. Naya was truly one of a kind, and she always will be. 💔 Sending all my love to her wonderful family and her beautiful son.

Dear Naya, 

I’m failing miserably to process this news. I always imagined old future senior moments where we would hear your infectious laughter down the hall knowing that our funny bone was in for a treat. To many people, myself included, you were the life of the party. Not only able to rock when fun was to be had after a long day but that shining friend that was always willing to listen, offer sympathy, perspective and at times, give much needed levity to any situation. 

You were a beast on the show. I admired you as I watched you nail multi page monologues that you learned moments before and pour your heart into every performance with an energy that had that snicks special written all over it. Our deep conversations about life inbetween scenes are some of my favorite moments with you. Getting to hear about your hopes and dreams for the future and with Josey’s arrival, ‘Your greatest success’ I was so happy to see your dream turn into reality. 

You deserved more. I’m so sorry but you deserved more. You gave life your all and I hope all the good that you have given to the world will be returned in abundance when you reunite with our brother in the heavenly skies. I’m so grateful for our memories. We will make sure to keep your legacy and spirit alive so Josey will grow up to know the incredible woman you were. Love you, Naya. You are already missed. Eternally. 

-HSJ

Naya and I fell into stride with such ease, she was my first friend and ally on our show. In the pilot, our characters came and went with such swiftness. Our enthusiasm brimmed with all of the unknown. We tried to grasp what the other cast members must be feeling as we were working in such separate manners. We dared to dream. What if this show worked? Wouldn’t that be something? Something was brimming, it was palpable. And thank god it worked. Naya’s magnetic talent was going to be unleashed, we just didn’t know it yet. ⁣⁣

I’ve been revisiting Naya’s performances on our show and it has brought me great joy. To work with her was a gift. There was a great deal to absorb - her work ethic, her fearlessness, her talent - supreme. Naya had a laugh that would envelop you and hold you captive. She was mesmerizing. That twinkle in her eye, her luminous smile. Naya lead with truth, humor, wit. I loved her for all of these reasons. ⁣⁣

I loved her sense of curiosity and wanderlust. I was lucky enough to be her travel partner for some of my most favorite adventures. As I write this, I’m grinning with swelling memories of a spontenaous 36 hour excursion - one might even say diversion - to Paris. With Naya, everything was possible and would often simply unfold before us, almost magically.⁣⁣

On this particular jaunt, within ten minutes of checking into our hotel, we found ourselves strolling the halls of L'École des Beaux-Arts, sipping wine from paper cups with students showcasing their latest work. It was fantastic. We were united in our commitment to discovery. And there was always a list of cleverly curated ideas in Naya’s back pocket, should we need it. ⁣⁣

I cannot make sense of this tremendous loss. I will hold onto her and these memories for the rest of time, alongside our Glee family. Please hold space for her, her family, her beautiful boy. ⁣⁣

In absolute, loving memory.

Naya The world is at such a loss and I am truly heartbroken. I still remember the day I met you. You Walked straight up to me, grabbed me by the face and drug me around until I met every single person on set, introducing me as “new booty”. You were one of the first people who made me feel like family when others saw me as an outsider. I didn’t know then that you would become my family and that’s just who you were to everyone.. A Mother, Sister, Daughter and most of all a friend. Your massive heart and bright spark is what carried our entire show, when at times we all felt like giving up. 

You always showed up for me when I needed some wisdom or was down and just needed someone to talk to. You took care of everyone around you in a way that was so warm and comforting and you sure knew how to throw a hell of a party! 

I always admired your bravery and passion to fight for what’s right even when it seemed like you were up against the world. Your spirit is contagious and you continue to make everyone you have touched a better and stronger person by knowing you. 

My favorite part of glee was getting to watch you perform and shine up close every day. You really were the pulse of that show. Anyone who was blessed enough to see and experience your raw talent knows it to be true. You’re one of the smartest and most gifted people I have ever met. There is no one like you and there never will be.

You have changed peoples lives all around the world and you continue to change mine forever. I will never forget your love and kindness. Thank you for sharing your spirit Angel.

I will miss you always. I Love you Naya

For the last 7 years the 13th of July has shattered our hearts beyond repair. There aren’t enough words to describe the pain we are feeling, we are truly heartbroken at the loss of @nayarivera .

Naya, Cory loved you so so much. He cherished your friendship more than you will ever know. From the laughs you shared, to the strength you gave him when he needed it the most. Cory truly adored you. He was in awe of your incredible talent, the way you gave everything you had to each performance; the slap in the auditorium was one of his favourite stories to share. You once said Cory was like a member of your family; you will always be a part of ours. We’ll carry you in our hearts forever. We miss you. Friends reunited for eternity.

We send all our love and strength to your beautiful boy, your family, friends and fans 💔🐻💔

#naya rivera #Kevin mchale #heather morris #jenna ushkowitz #amber riley #Chris colfer #chord overstreet #Cory Monteith #Dianna agron #Harry Shum jr #darren criss #glee #glee cast #Artie abrams #Brittany pierce #tina cohen chang #mercedes jones #kurt hummel #sam evans #finn hudson #Quinn fabray #Blaine anderson #mike chang #rip naya rivera #the picture with Kevin actually breaks me #glee tributes #I hate that the Darren photo is an edit but there are not a ton of options #also hate that chord's photo is different but also not a lot of options there

[omniswords]

Seeing Scarlet [Lila Rossi; Marinette Dupain-Cheng]

Adrien is with Kagami. Gabriel has a new agenda. Marinette's back in school, and everyone adores her.

And Lila? Well.

Lila is just about ready to snap.

Mentions of end-of-S3 events, but not too spoilery. Vent piece. Also, please let me know if I should tag this as Lila salt? I’m not 100% sure, but I’ll defer to other people’s judgment, and if it has the potential to be hurtful, then I can certainly go back and fix that up.

Gabriel Agreste doesn’t need Lila anymore.

He told her so yesterday afternoon, the way he always speaks—spoke—to her: at the Place des Vosges, from the comfort of his car, while she listened in from a nearby bench. She didn’t turn to look at him, no matter how much being supposedly relieved of her duties meant she could break every bit of their agreement as much as she wanted. All she said was, “I don’t follow. I thought you only wanted good influences around Adrien. He even said we’re friends. Isn’t that what— “

“What we agreed on, Miss Rossi”—he cut her off rather coldly then—“was that you would do your utmost to keep certain bad influences away from my son. To date, I have failed to see you do so.”

She stayed quiet, but only for a spell. She liked to think she was above begging for chances. No need, when she had every tool in her pocket that turned those chances over to her so willingly. “So you think I’m a bad influence, too,” she said. Final. Sour. It always worked.

“I have my own agenda,” he said. “I’ll let you see to yours.”

Lila had no idea what that was supposed to mean—and she prided herself on knowing what adults meant most of the time. But before she could ask, Gabriel Agreste had already rolled up the window and driven away.

She could have screamed, but really, that was the other thing she was proud of: quietly biding her time to exact the worst revenge. That always worked, too. Besides, adults had taught her how to play the manipulating game. Some of them had even lost to her. He would just be another one. Eventually.

It was supposed to be that easy, anyway. Except she spent the whole train ride home stunned with a silent and otherwise indescribable rage. Except she woke up the next morning to nothing but an apple on the table and a sticky note on the fridge, again. Except she took herself to school and got an eyeful of Chloé goddamn Bourgeois gloating about something or other, and another eyeful of Adrien and that fencing girl holding hands of all things, before she’d even made it to the front steps. And then, as if the universe had decided she just hadn’t had enough to ruin her life, there was Marinette talking to that blue-haired boy again, the one who always carried his guitar around like some stupid security blanket. And they were smiling, and he had his hand on her shoulder, and what right did any of them have, getting to be so happy?

Lila composed herself just in time for Guitar Boy to salute and pedal away on that cheap bike of his, and she pushed into the school building before she had to endure any more of that nauseating expression Marinette had on her face. Anything to get away from her stupid friends, and her stupid smile, and her stupid happiness. Anything to get away from her.

She found herself in the empty, echoing silence of the restroom just down the hall from her class before the bell rang. Found herself staring down every hard line in her face, the grit in her teeth so firm they might break, knuckles white from gripping the edges of the sink. The hate in her eyes. The hate everywhere.

Don’t break, she told her reflection in the daggers she glared at it. Don’t you dare break.

Her teeth didn’t break, but she did, in spite of herself. Her cheeks flared, and her jaw stayed tight, and her heart twisted on itself so many times that it was almost unbearable. she hated it, hated them, hated her, right from the first angry, poisonous tear. And the next, and all the ones that came after that.

Her name was Lila Rossi, and she was not supposed to drown. She would stare herself down to death if she had to. And if she took anyone down with her, well. That would only be for the better. If she had to hurt, then so did everyone else.

She was so focused on crushing the growing weight in her chest that she almost didn’t notice the creak and swing of the restroom door. Half-wildly, she jerked her head toward the door with no time or chance to compose herself, nearly ready to scream because no one would believe it if it got around the school—she would make sure they didn’t believe it.

Apparently, the universe wasn’t done with her just yet. Because of course it was Marinette standing there, her expression caught somewhere between sour and exhausted and... concerned. Not even a hint of glee at the corners of her eyes. It made Lila sick all over again.

“Miss Bustier’s taking attendance,” Marinette said simply, her words echoing hollow off the tile. “She’s looking for you.”

Lila steeled herself, turned back to the mirror. The angry wrinkles in her mouth. The hair in her eyes. “Get. Away. From me.”

“For the most part, I’d love to, trust me.” Out of the corner of her eye, Marinette folded her arms, hip cocked. “But I can’t. It’s kind of my responsibility. Class representative?” A pause. A sigh. “Look, do you need me to—”

“Do you want to know what your problem is, Marinette?” God, Lila even hated saying her name. Tasted like sour milk. Like plaque. It took everything in her to tear away from the sink and stare her down. Maybe if she did it long enough, Marinette would finally screw off.

But Marinette stood unfazed; even the quirk in her brow barely budged. “I’m sure you’re gonna tell me anyway.”

The air went cold, and Lila counted the steps she took toward the other girl. She wouldn’t dare get so close that the tear streaks would be obvious, but her limbs locked with every threatening click of her shoes. “Everyone just fucking adores you. All you have to do is walk in a room—you don’t even have to lift a goddamn finger—and eeeeeveryone wants to be around you. I bet you don’t ever have to think about it. You just get to be so popular, and so loved. You just get to be a goddamn blessing to everyone, don’t you?”

Her voice was rising even though it didn’t need to, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care. She was beyond it. She’d scream if she could get away with it. Somehow, backing her into a corner was starting to be enough. “And I bet you don’t even care, do you, Marinette? You don’t even care how much everybody loves you, because you’re just basking in it. You probably don’t even hear it. But I do. I hear it all the time, because it’s like no one can stop talking about how great you are for two seconds. Don’t you get how sick you make me? Don’t you get how much I can’t fucking stand you?!”

Take it, she wants to scream. Take every last goddamn word, because if I have to deal with it, then so do you. Because if I have to destroy myself, then I’m taking you with me. Because if I can’t have control, then neither can you. Because if I can’t be happy, then neither can you. You don’t have the right. You did this to me. You did this to me, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, do you hear me? You did this, you did this, you—

Marinette was tense, standing in the corner with her arms still folded. Lila would take even that as a victory. But her eyes were searching her face, looking for all the unsaid things, and if she found any of them, she made no sign of it. Eventually, all she said was, “Are you finished?”

At first, Lila was too stunned to do anything but look at her incredulously. “Excuse me?”

Marinette shrugged; it was just barely visible. “Did you get it all out?” she said none too sweetly. “Do you feel better now, taking that all out on me?”

Of course she didn’t. She wouldn’t feel better until she never had to see Marinette’s sorry face again. That, or until she finally crushed her under her heel. She didn’t say anything. She only glared.

“Because if you’re not,” Marinette went on, “I’ll just tell Miss Bustier you’ve got some weird, totally-not-contagious stomach bug or whatever, and you had to leave school early. That’s right up your alley, isn’t it?”

Lila still said nothing. There was nothing to say. There was no reason for Marinette to do something like that for her. If anything, it only made her more furious. “Didn’t I tell you to get away from me?” she spat.

“You approached me,” Marinette said. “And you’re mad that I’m right.”

“You’re a liar too.” It was the first thing Lila could think of, and maybe it would hurt enough to make Marinette go away for good. “You tell her that, and you’ll be just as bad as I am. Don’t you hate liars, Marinette? Do you hate yourself now?”

The only little victory was that Marinette actually paused for a moment. And that her arms loosened, and she seemed to go… disgustingly soft around the edges. “No,” she said. It didn’t matter how quiet it was; it still rang through the bathroom and scurried into the stalls, hauntingly matter-of-fact. “I don’t hate myself. And I don’t lie because I want people to like me.”

“Of course not.” Lila narrowed her eyes. “You don’t have to.”

“Neither do you,” Marinette said. “No one does. And for what it’s worth to you, not everybody loves me.”

“Good.” Lila said it without thinking, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Why should she? “It’s about time someone didn’t.”

Marinette winced, either because she was hurt or because she was holding back what she really wanted to say, and Lila loved every nanosecond of it. But otherwise, she kept her composure, and turned on her heel. “I’ll just go tell her—”

And then she paused, and Lila saw exactly why.

A butterfly.

Hawk Moth’s butterfly. Phasing through the bathroom door, all royal black and purple, and fluttering towards her.

Perfect. She’d show him. She’d show all of them how much they needed her—

“Get down!” Marinette yelled, and Lila saw and heard her tackling her to the bathroom floor before she actually felt the impact. When she sat up, Marinette was already standing up, arms spread out, firm from head to toe. Shielding her.

Lila scrambled to her feet. “What is your problem?” she nearly screeched, reaching out for the butterfly.

Marinette swatted her hand away before she could touch it. “Don’t.”

“What do you care?”

For a moment, the butterfly hesitated, and Marinette turned back to look at her. “I’m not gonna let you use your feelings to hurt other people,” she said. “And I’m not gonna let you use your feelings to hurt yourself.”

Lila rolled her eyes. “Oh, forget it—” But she’d barely taken a step before Marinette shoved her back again—surprisingly, she was stronger than she looked—and she stumbled backwards, slamming into the wall with nearly all the wind knocked out of her. Her head throbbed, and she stumbled to find her balance again, and Marinette was still standing there, still protecting her as though she could actually do anything about it. 

“What? She gripped the edge of the sink, didn’t bother to look at her reflection again. “You think you’re Ladybug now or something? What are you, her best friend? Don’t tell me you’re doing this because you pity me all of a sudden.”

“I don’t.” It was… almost exhilarating, hearing Marinette talk through her teeth like that. “I don’t pity you. Not for how you’ve strung people along, and not for how you’ve treated me. And I don’t have to be Ladybug to know what she values. But when Ladybug says that everyone deserves to be protected, she means you, too. I don’t care how much you hate her. I don’t care how much you hate me. But I’m not gonna just stand here and be okay with you making choices that hurt people.”

“People?” Lila sneered. “Or Adrien?”

Marinette didn’t give her an answer. Instead, she turned to face the butterfly again, stood stock still. Its wings were still fluttering, though slower now. She took a few deep breaths, mumbled something to herself. Numbers, it sounded like. Over and over, she said them, and eventually the butterfly balked and flew backwards, through the door, away again. 

She went lax, sighed in what sounded like relief, and turned toward Lila again. She looked… almost exhausted. “Your move, Lila,” she said. “I’m going back to class. As far as Miss Bustier is concerned, you went home sick.”

Finally, Lila spared herself a glance. Well. At least she looked the part. “Why?”

Marinette looked her up and down. Not a hint of judgment in her eyes. It was almost sickening. Almost. “Because you’re hurting,” she said, voice shaky as she made for the door. “And I was hurting once, too. And if someone being nice to me helped, then maybe someone being nice to you will help, too.”

The bathroom door swung open and shut behind her, and Lila was still left by the stalls, the echo of the words still taunting her. And when she was sure no one else was coming in or out again, she cried. With her back to the mirror and her fist pounding the edge of the sink, with every emotion and none she could actually name. She drowned. She’d go home, and that sticky note would still be on the kitchen counter. Adrien would still have that fencing girl, and Marinette would still be his friend, and have that guitar boy to boot. And Gabriel Agreste wouldn’t actually need her. Gabriel Agreste didn’t need her anymore.

By the time she wiped her eyes and walked out of the school building, she had already decided to prove him right.

And if Marinette Dupain-Cheng thought that some empty words and seventy seconds of shielding was going to do her any good, then she had another think coming.

#miraculous ladybug #lila rossi #marinette dupain cheng #gabriel agreste #mentions of adrigami and lukanette #post-miracle queen

[cogentranting]

Arrow 1x05 Rewatch

. Oliver’s little smirk when Lance is interrogating him. I live for it. 

“You can speak to Mr. Queen’s attorney when he gets here.” He? Where’s Jean Loring? 

“He also thinks I dress up in a mask and a green hood and shoot people. With arrows.” The audacity of Oliver. 

“she knows me better than anyone. She knows I could never be this guy.” OLIVER. I mean. Again. the audacity. Especially because he reveals later that he planned this. That he WANTED to get arrested. And he just has this whole plan revolving around this front of “Laurel knows me so well. She’s the only one who really knows me and she knows I’m not a killer.” When really the crux of the plan is how much Laurel does NOT know him and he plans on exploiting that. Amazing. 

“He raised her to do the right thing and that includes representing an innocent man.” Okay. So. My indiscriminate glee with the irony and Oliver’s attitude aside. This whole set up is really interesting. It reminds me actually of the moment in the season 5 flashbacks when he goes to see Galina (Taiana’s mother) and lies to her and manipulates her with this nice persona which is actually at that point more a mask than his Kapiushon identity. And that scene has always been really interesting to me because it’s Oliver pretending to be a good man at a time when he’s not, and while he lies a lot and puts on masks throughout the series, that particular aspect of it is fairly unique because it comes at what is basically Oliver’s lowest point (morally). And this episode (1x05) is similar in it bringing out this very manipulative side of Oliver that we don’t see in this way all that often (and remember that moment in 5x17 and this moment in 1x05, are actually very close together chronologically. Somewhere between 2 and 7 months apart.) The idea that Oliver, knowing full well that he is attacking and killing people, gets Laurel involved on the basis of this very emotionally laden appeal, citing their history and the connection they had, especially considering the role that Laurel believing oliver to be more moral than he really was played in Oliver cheating on her, and using not only her perception of him, but the way that him reaching out to her would be perceived... it’s cunning, and it’s effective, and it’s kinda messed up. 

But like.... legally... can Laurel represent her ex-boyfriend who her father arrested?

It’s ALL so calculated to manipulate how people perceive him. Appearing in court without a lawyer until Laurel agrees to do it. Protesting the tracking anklet. Throwing the party. His response to the plea deal. 

Speaking of calculated. Oliver knows what that blue sweater is doing to make his eyes pop. He knows. 

But Malcolm and Walter acting like they have no idea why Quentin would have a grudge against Oliver. LIke come one guys. You know. 

I just. I love the polygraph scene. For so many reasons. 

In the same vein about Oliver manipulating people’s perception of him in this episode, what makes this episode great are the places where it’s unclear even to the audience how much of Oliver’s reactions are genuine and how much is purposefully done to affect how Laurel and Quentin see him. Even in the polygraph scene-- did he get pushed into revealing that he was tortured on the island? Or did he see a way around that answer and reveal it anyway to gain sympathy? Did he actually get hung up on his guilt over Sara’s death (which is of course very real) or did he use that guilt as a way of covering up the answer to “have you ever killed anyone” because he knew he couldn’t beat the polygraph on that one? Did reliving his torture and Sara’s death actually overwhelm him to the point that he had to run out, or was he able to keep those reactions in check but put on the act to convince them?  The same idea is present in the scene later in the episode where he shows Laurel his scars and talks about how damaged he is. And we know that there is intentional manipulation going on because Diggle and Oliver’s conversation at the very end-- “So you lied. Or maybe you just gave her a version of the truth.” “I told her what she needed to hear.”-- and we know that there is truth (Oliver IS damaged, he IS guilt-ridden over Sara’s death, he IS traumatized by the torture he suffered) but we don’t know exactly where the line is between the two. 

I also think that Laurel and Quentin’s different reactions are interesting. When Oliver says that he was tortured, Laurel’s mouth is literally hanging open, she’s so shocked. But Quentin doesn’t react. Unlike Laurel he already knew about the scars so part of it is probably just that he put together that either Oliver was tortured in some capacity or he was horrifically cutting himself. But even if he had forewarning of it, just the idea that at this point he is so broken and angry over Sara’s death that he can look at someone who, even if he never really liked, he’s probably known since Oliver was in jr high. To hear this kid you watched grow up say he was tortured and not even react...

Love how little effort everyone at this party put into the theme

“If you think this is what prison’s like you are in for a rude awakening.” So i think this is mainly a joke because clearly Oliver doesn’t think prison is like his little rave thing. But. I do think that even though Diggle has some sense of what Oliver’s been through, because he still thinks Oliver spent those entire 5 years on the Island, Diggle thinks that Oliver doesn’t have a great sense of the real world. Just the world of the fabulously wealthy and the world of deserted islands. While in reality Oliver actually has spent time in some very different walks of life between Russia and Hong Kong and Hub City. 

“I just don’t like being played. Now you might have gotten used to lying to everyone else in your life but I’m the one guy you don’t lie to.” And here we are with that manipulation motif again. Oliver who at this moment actually has no reason to lie to Diggle, can’t trust enough to actually just present his plan to Diggle. He has to pull strings and manipulate to get him to go along with it. At this point trust is so hard for Oliver that it’s easier to just have a different mask for everybody. 

“I can’t remember the last time that I was in this room.”  “I can. Halloween 2005.”  But that’s 2 years before the Gambit sinking. Why was Laurel not in this room for 2 years prior to  that? she was dating Oliver? this is presumably his room? and if it’s NOT his room then its... just a random one? And why would she even comment on it? 

“There were times that I wanted to die. In the end there was something I wanted more.” The clear implication that Oliver is making is that Laurel was sort of his inspiration to keep going throughout his five years. And I’m not so against the Laurel Oliver ship that I’d deny that that is a factor of Oliver’s motivation during his time there. Particularly during the seasons 1 and 2 flashbacks, and at the very end of season 5 (which, if we understand the story chronologically, is probably the specific moment that Oliver is referring to here-- when he was drugged and in pain and had a gun to his own head and hallucinated Laurel convincing him not to kill himself. Which was only like 2 months prior to this conversation). But Laurel and getting back to her is really only referenced a handful of times throughout the flashbacks. That’s probably in part due to the series moving away from her as the main love interest/female lead. But I think its also a disservice to Oliver as a character to reduced his motivation down to that. Oliver is much more driven by 1. a general will to survive (something that is a dominant trait of his but also often in conflict with his suicidal ideation) 2. a concept in his mind of owing his life to others-- he feels he has to fix his father’s wrongs, he has to protect his mother and sister, he has to come make amends to Laurel etc.-- what he owes to others takes utmost priority (and that’s why often his suicidal thoughts come in this form and also have to be combatted in this form-- he thinks he should die because others would be better off without him, vs he should live because they love/need him) 3. a need to atone for his own sins. Interestingly, I think that even when Laurel is serving as Oliver’s motivation, it’s not as much his love for her driving him as a need to make things right with her (in the flashbacks. In the present in season 1 and somewhat season 2, his love for her is more dominant, and often in conflict with his desire to set things right which is why, especially early on, you get weird back and forth between pushing her away and trying to get close to her). 

“Impressive. you have resolve I didn’t credit you for.” Oliver’s iron will is such a central part of his character and contrary to what a lot of people believe, its not something forged into him on the island. It’s something he starts with. And I wonder what that looked like in his youth? Probably a lot more like season 1 Thea (who has that same iron will). 

This arms dealer looks like a discount Vince Vaughn. 

It hurts my heart to see Quentin and Oliver at odds like this. 

“But if any member of my family so much as gets a papercut... I will burn your entire world to ashes.” I love the Queen family so much. 

Oliver: “Good heart to heart Diggle. I’m gonna go kill someone now.”

#arrow #arrow rewatch 21 #arrow 1x05 #cogent metas #cogent liveblogs #cw: suicide #oliver queen #this is one of my favorite episodes and it was fun picking up on some aspects I hadn't thought about before. so maybe this one got kinda lon #*long

[dancingkirby]

Shipping

I’m sorry, but it had to be done.  Do y’all think this would work better as a Short Story, or just a oneshot on its own?  

DAY 1

To celebrate the tenth anniversary of his ascension to the throne, Zuzu and Mai were off on a world tour.  Azula had been left in charge of ruling the country.  While Azula was glad that he was finally realizing that she wasn’t always thinking about world domination all the time, so far her regency had been extremely boring.  Now, she was more than halfway through it, and absolutely nothing of note had happened.  

Today had started out like all the others.  She hadn’t slept great the night before because of the high winds that had battered Capital Island, and they hadn’t ebbed down very much by morning.  She’d had trouble getting her hair to stay in its topknot while training.  But the morning council meeting had proven as tedious as ever.  Azula was paying the exact minimum amount of attention required as the ministers droned on about tax brackets; most of her brain was occupied on what she would have for lunch that day.  Noodles were always nice, but she’d had them for two days in a row now. Anytime she ate any food on multiple consecutive days, there was always the risk of speculation among the courtiers that she might be pregnant.  Never mind that she hadn’t even done any sex acts that could result in pregnancy for years…

The door to the meeting hall abruptly swung open.  An out-of-breath messenger stood in the doorway, blushing deeply as nearly twenty pairs of annoyed eyes scrutinized him.  

“You do realize that you are intruding on a confidential council meeting, correct?” Azula inquired of him.  

“I’m t-terribly sorry, P-princess,” the messenger managed to get out.  “But I was told that this needed your immediate attention.” Could it be…that something interesting was about to occur for a change?

“All right. What is it?” she asked.  At her hand motion, the messenger climbed up to the dais and whispered in Azula’s ear.

“Okay.  I’ll be right there.  We will continue this meeting at a time to be determined later,” Azula stated.

So here she was on a tugboat, looking at the enormous cargo ship that had somehow gotten wedged into the Strait of Azulon.   Azula turned to the old salt who was leading efforts to remove it and said, “Explain.”

“That ship is called the Agni-Given, Princess,” the man said somewhat stiltedly; it appeared that he was trying to rein in a sailor’s natural tendency to use copious foul language.  “It’s one of the largest cargo ships in the world.  Today, it was passing through the strait when the high winds pushed it off-course and into a sandbar.  It also got tangled in some old nets from the Gates. We’ve been trying out dam…darndest to free it, but no luck.”

Azula took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly out of her nose.  “And what have these initial attempts included?”

 “We attached every tugboat in the harbor to it to try to pull it out, but it didn’t work, Princess. That fu…freaking thing is stuck deep into a sandbar.  Next step would be to try to dig it out.”

“Explain how that would be accomplished.”

“Yes…well…”–the old man paused–“We ain’t sure yet, to be honest.  The problem is that the place where the bow is stuck is seventy feet underwater.  All of the excavating machines available were built for use on land.  We was thinking of trying to get some of those new forklifts, try to extend their reach, and bring them out on boats, but…that would take time.”

“Forklifts?  Is that the best you could come up with?” Azula demanded.  She found herself imitating her brother’s famed nose-bridge pinch.  This would not do at all.  She needed an ingenue, someone who could design a whole new kind of machine if need be. And she thought she knew exactly where to find one.  

 DAY 2

It had been the end of a long day, without much progress being made.  Azula was just about to demand that the larger, more comfortable boat they’d made ready for her today take her back to the harbor when, at long last, the other ship that she had been awaiting arrived.  After this watercraft was tethered to hers, a figure came running down the gangplank, arms outstretched.  

“Azula!” Sokka exclaimed.  “How’s it going?  We haven’t seen each other in forever…hey!” His attempts at embracing her had been thwarted by the princess grabbing his shirt at arm’s length.  

“Not in public, remember?!” she hissed.  Then, just as formally as if he were any old dignitary, she added in normal tones, “Councilman Sokka.  It is good to see you here.  I trust that your journey here was uneventful?”

“Yeah, except we had to go around the long way because of…well…that,” Sokka replied, gesturing at the still firmly-entrenched Agni-Given.  “So how do you want me to assist, O Princess?” He did a little bow, and could not quite manage to keep a straight face.  

“Watch it,” Azula reprimanded again.  Whenever they encountered each other, she always needed to remind him that their relationship was a melding of intellects and occasionally flesh; romance had absolutely no place in it.  

“I recall that you designed a vehicle that could travel underwater,” she explained.  “Would it be possible to modify this concept and attach equipment for shoveling?  Or perhaps even the capacity for finer manipulation to untangle the net remnants?”

Sokka took a few moments to consider as he beheld the enormous ship.  Finally, he replied, “Yeah, I think that’d be possible.  It’ll take a while to draw up plans and get everything built, though.”

“Very well,” Azula told him.  “I suppose we shall have to simply endure each other’s company for a little longer.”

“’Endure?’  Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Sokka gave a wink that was obviously meant to be seductive, but in fact only made him look ridiculous.  Azula elbowed him in the ribs.

They did, in fact, end up fucking that night, after Sokka had eaten what seemed to be about half of the palace’s food supply for dinner.  They hadn’t seen each other in more than three years, and Azula was scrupulous about taking her contraceptive tea, so why not?

Sokka tried to kiss Azula after, but she didn’t let him.

DAY 3

Zuko had sent a message asking if he should cut his celebratory tour short and come home to help with this problem, but Azula quickly scribbled out a reply that they had everything under control.  

Today was the day that Sokka would first meet with the team of engineers assigned to resolve this problem.  

“And I’m sure that all of you will give him the respect that he deserves,” Azula told them in the most pleasant voice she could manage.  Some of them were obviously pissy about being forced to consult with a man who was half most of their ages.  Well, too bad.  Anyone who tried to ignore him would be upbraided with the utmost harshness personally by her.

DAY 10          

The manufacturing process had begun.  Sokka informed her that he had dubbed this new invention the “shovelmarine.”  He did not attempt to conceal his sheer glee at this horrible pun.  Azula threw a pillow at him.  

While the two of them worked by day and screwed by night, things were starting to get out of hand in the Harbor District.  The plight of the Agni-Given had captured the imagination of the public, and kiosks had sprouted all over the piers selling miniature models of the grounded ship. It seemed that every single street musician in the city had composed his or her own ballad about the situation.  Fan magazines had been established simply for the purpose of publishing the flood of stories and art that the more creatively-minded citizens had concocted.  Azula had gotten a hand on one of these volumes, and her favorite story was a somewhat graphic recounting of a speculated liaison between the Agni-Given and the statue of her grandfather.  Apparently, the statue was the dominant partner in this relationship…just as it should be.

This magazine had also included a drawing depicting her own activities with Sokka.  She knew that she should be furious about this; that the culprit should be tracked down and executed, but she found it just too amusing.  The picture was even surprisingly accurate, except that Azula had not actually handcuffed Sokka to her bedpost.  They had improvised with the sash from her nightrobe instead.  

DAY 16

“Okay, lets see what these shovelmarines can do!” Sokka said as the contraptions touched the open ocean for the first time.  The two of them watched from the boat that was by now almost as familiar to Azula as her own suite of rooms at the palace were.  

As it turned out, the shovelmarines (Azula had grudgingly accepted this terrible name) could do quite a bit.  Over the next several days, they worked steadily at the problem.  Finally, three weeks to the day after the Agni-Given had first gotten stuck, it once again floated freely, although it would be have to be drydocked to repair all the damage.  

In his excitement, Sokka had tried to kiss Azula.  She had initially resisted, but he had used his ultimate weapon: polar bear dog eyes.

“All right, but only once.  And on the cheek,” she cautioned him.  

DAY 25

Sokka had departed two days ago, and Azula hoped that he wouldn’t try to send love letters or anything stupid like that.  He should know how it worked by now.  Whenever they happened to meet, they would rekindle their affair for the duration of the visit, and then they went their separate ways until their next encounter. Of course, they wouldn’t be able to keep this up forever, but it would be fun while it lasted.  

And today…Zuzu and Mai made their triumphant return from their tour.

“Wow,” said Zuko as the two of them stood at the harbor, observing as the last of the debris was carried away.  “You and Sokka took care of that whole mess all on your own!  Thank you, Azula.”  At this point, he obviously knew from experience not to make any comments about her relationship with the nonbender.

“Why do you sound so surprised, brother?” Azula asked, turning toward him and raising an eyebrow. “It’s almost like I am, in fact, a competent ruler and don’t spend all of my days dreaming of bloodshed and destruction!  Who would have ever guessed?”

“That’s not what…” Zuko began, but he could say no more as Azula caught him by surprise, got him in a headlock, and began inflicting a merciless noogie on him.  

“Admit it, Zuko,” she crowed.  “I’m awesome!”

“Okay, I surrender!” he squeaked out.  “You’re awesome.”

She released him. “There.  That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?  Now let’s go get some ice cream.”

And so they did.

#azula #sokka #fanfic #sokkla #sort of #keep in mind that this is a rough draft

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

May I request GHJPU for Sebastian? Sebby needs more love :D (eee sorry if any of this overlapped or its too much, have a cookie for your troubles 🍪)

DID SOMEBODY SAY LOVING SEBASTIAN HOURS!?!?!?!?! FERAL EYE GLEAM

Bless your heart!!! Sebastian has found a new and very dear place in my heart as of late, I would be delighted to offer my thoughts!!!!! :D (your cookie offering has been accepted with the utmost glee 🍪, I hope my humble writing efforts will bring you equal joy, lovely~💖💖💖) 

G = Gifts (How does he feel about gift giving? What are his habits when it comes to this?) 

Awwww haha, baby boy Sebby is honestly a very observant and reliable kind of S/O, I think. He will notice even the tiniest of changes in MC’s expression--the slightest shifts in her temperament. As a result of his attentive nature he has an easy time deducing the things she might like, always makes a mental note of where her eyes linger. Is there a classic she once loved in her time being published for the first time in their era, on display at a bookstore nearby? Noted. Does she hover near shops filled with self-care products--things like scented candles or lotions or bath salts, things she considers indulgent luxuries? Noted. Is there an outfit that caught his eye in a boutique, something he thinks would complement her complexion perfectly? Noted. 

The thing about Sebastian is that his gifts will be heartfelt, timely, and devastatingly thoughtful. Whether something small or something lavish it will always be precisely what she needs/wants, and she can sense the loving care he put into finding the perfect gift.

H = Holding Hands (When/how does he like to hold hands?)

Honestly? Sebastian has spent the better part of his life alone. His circumstances weren’t the worst; for all that he’s lost in his life he never went hungry, lived comfortably. But...that doesn’t change the fact that his life has been fairly devoid of meaningful human contact. Even in college, friends and close colleagues were hard to come by. The few people he did develop budding feelings for he always gave up on long before it could become any kind of substantial relationship. He was always the type to admire from afar, never really felt worthy of the people he liked.

It was MC that was the first to reach out to him, and for the first little while in their relationship she will be the one most naturally inclined to reach for him. He isn’t really used to having someone by his side like this, somebody who would be delighted to hold his hand--who wants to be close to him. It’s always a shock when they go grocery shopping and he just feels her fingers wrap gently around his. She blushes a little and says something about not wanting to get separated, but it’s clear what her real motivation was.

After those first few months, it becomes much more natural for him to reach for her hand when they’re traveling somewhere together or when they’re alone. He likes to intertwine their fingers, loves the way they fit against his perfectly. His shyness wears off after a while, and it’ll be rare to see them together without them holding hands--unless they’re cooking or at work.

J = Jokes (Does he like to joke around with or prank her? How?)

Do you know how cats have their eyes all narrow thin pupil but then they go REALLY REALLY round? That’s Sebastian. I tend to refer to it as “Silly Time Mode Engaged.”

Now then, his kind of joking is very dry and very deadpan. It’s subtle and immediate, so if you’re not attuned to it it can be easy to miss. That, or people just look at him weird because they don’t quite get the connection he’s making and/or the delivery feels off because his facial expression doesn’t change at all, completely flat. That being said, one of his all time favorite things to do is to say something absurd or nigh histrionic (which tends to be uncharacteristic of him) and wait for the confused head turn/startled laughter to hit. He will make puns and play on words all the time--he puts his academic knowledge to good use.

“I swear when I first met you I was convinced you were an AI.” “Alexa taught me everything I know.” He’ll bow. “Oh? Do I have competition, in that case?” “Your speakers are suboptimal (he pokes her freckles), but you possess what Alexa lacks.” “And that would be?” He’ll gather her close, smiling against her lips. “My heart.” :D cutest robot I ever saw uwu

Bonus bc I have a problem: “Is stealing hearts in Alexa’s programming? Just to be safe, of course.” “I think it’s safe to say it isn’t within the parameters of her design--but that doesn’t mean you’re out of the woods just yet.” cue sounds of tickling and laughter

The other way Sebastian messes with MC is that he is an ENORMOUS tease in the bedroom. He’s very much the kind of lover that prefers to tantalize and draw things out; a long, slow seduction that will render MC immobile from the pleasure by the end. The promise of a kiss is almost always only a whisper of the feeling he intends to drown her in. Remember that Sebastian’s stoicism belies a nigh inhuman ardor and self-control. He’s more than willing to leave her wanting in order to fully capitalize on that desire later at night.

P = Pet Names (What does he like to call her?)

Other than her name? HE DOESN’T AHAAHAHAHAHA Just kidding of course, but given where he comes from pet names between couples aren’t...really a thing…(take it up with Japan, I Was Today Years Old, my sappy romantic ass would never survive)

The funny inverse of this though is that he does NOT fuck around with people that try to call MC pet names. When Arthur Tries It™ he canonically goes all steely saccharine, openly telling the others they’re together. So none of that “luv” or “doll” business, he will not have it (he won’t fight the purebloods on it because 1. they’re more like doting grandfathers than anything and 2. Sebastian does not have a death wish). If MC has a nickname of some kind, then I could see him using that or adding his own spin on it with a great deal of affection c:

U = Upset (How does he act when she’s upset?)

Whether he was the cause or not, Sebastian has a single modus operandi when his beloved is upset (and to anyone who’s upset really) and that is to offer gentle reassurance/an apology. He is very, very sensitive to the feelings of others and really takes it to heart when someone isn’t feeling well. That being said, he won’t always be overt about his concern--he’s more the type to do little things that offer constant support/reminders that he’s there for them. 

If it’s something more serious, he will do everything in his power to minimize the harm done and sooth the MC. His attempts to comfort her will be tender, muted, and consistent; prolonged hugs, doubles his offering of sweets, makes her favorite foods, gives her a relaxing bath salt to use--anything that he knows for certain will coax her lips up into a smile. He’s the type to freely offer space for her to figure things out if she needs it, but he will also be watchful; he won’t let things escalate if she needs externalized support to heal (bc lbr some problems we can’t solve alone ;-;).

His other go-to method is to offer distractions in any capacity that he can. Will offer to teach her a new recipe, or find a new type of flower he wants to plant together, or make up some kind of project he needs help with. Sometimes he’ll genuinely need the help, but most of the time he does it for the express purpose of getting her mind away from negative things and focused on him/the present. It’s hard to dwell on upsetting things when you’re body is physically demanding something else from you, even more so if it’s a fairly complex task. She’s known to be very dutiful; she’ll be so focused on doing a good job she’ll forget the sadness/irritation for a bit and the intensity of the emotion might ebb slightly.

If the issue is lighter, he’ll probably just cuddle/tickle her back to fighting spirit, pressing kisses wherever he can reach until she starts giggling. In these instances he prefers to hug her from behind, a reminder that she doesn’t have to face anything unpleasant or unnerving all on her own; he’ll always be there to hold her steady whenever she needs him. 

And rest assured, this man is always gathering data to optimize his comfort capabilities. He is incredibly adaptable, and will always be watching her reactions closely to adjust his strategies.

#asks #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp sebastian #ikevamp sebas #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp hcs #ikevamp akihiko #these were really fun to write! #sebby's route was a delight #he definitely climbed up my personal rankings for sure #ikevamp has given me so many delightful surprises #it'll likely still be a wait for the english crowd tho so i hope this tides you over lovelies~ #not incorrect quotes

[ushibug]

turn the pages to keep me forever | Kirishima Eijiro

summary: How can Kirishima not fall in love with the unworldly girl that’s always reading a certain book.

warnings: none!

song(s):

dance with me - beabadoobee

find me here - Haley Williams

school globes - removebeforeflight

enjoy!! | MASTERLIST | requests open!

It only happened at night.

It was the only time Eijiro spent his time with you, mindlessly meeting up with you in a random location, anywhere you seemed to fit the day, the mood.

You were always content with the comfort, the seemingly known fact he was there. Sighing happily when he’d arrive, occasional eyes looking up to meet his from whatever book you perched on your lap. Never fully looking at him, but looking at him none less. He found solace in that, completely fine with the fact that he was there with you to share some glances and smiles, even when you’d speak limited words. He’d lean on whatever surface for hours to watch you. Watch your lips curl into a smile as each page turned, eyes fluttering close for a few seconds as they occasionally strained, little noises leaving your throat over some event of words. Simple little things added up to create enjoyment for Kirishima.

He always wondered what you read, trying to perch over the table, your shoulder, anything in the way to see what words made you gasp, cry, smile or close in frustration. But somehow he eyes were always diverted or blurred. Words that were supposed to be cohesive to create a plot came out incomprehensible, leaving him confused. He wanted to ask, desperately so but forces unknown always held him abroad, stopping the roll of his tongue by gripping it back. “I’m proud of you Kiri.” You sighed one day, not bothering looking up from your lap. His mouth was agape, still wondering how you could speak to him but he could not do the same before it started morphing into a smile that made his cheeks burn red as what you said settles. Selfishly, he needed those words that day, he was at his lowest: the feeling of being useless, a nobody, a person undeserving of being at U.A, but you saying those words made him fidget in his seat with glee, contentment, washing away all those worries. “You’re doing great.” You mumbled, eyes scanning the pages with a small curl at the corner of your lips. It was a few seconds after when your eyes flicked up to meet his, but it was momentarily, like always- as if you were checking if he was there. After that, you were calm, quiet and engrossed in the book. Kirishima continued to watch, a smile still perched and wide as he thought of all the ways he will make you even prouder.

He’d continue to do this ‘watching’ for hours, day after day, watching you go through cups of coffee, a bag of chips, a whole music playlist, eyes skimming and fingers microscopically shredding against paper edges. He was sure he loved you each time he came across your figure. Even if words were limited, he was infatuated by just the presence of you. Learning every little thing by just watching you, being with you at that moment. He knew that you like the smell of vanilla, it showed in your essence itself - a perfume? A shampoo? Both? Whatever it was, made him relaxed. You were genuinely kind, even when you were anxious. He knew you treated cashiers with the utmost respect, he knew you made sure those around you were more comfortable than you were, when you’d buy extra food just in case someone along the way home needed it. It was the most admirable trait of yours which made him sure he could stay loving you for long. Kirishima also knew you rather have pieces of clothing that made you look like your frame was drowning - which made him promise he’d bring you a sweater of his, oddly uncharacteristically breaking that said promise by never bringing one. Somehow forgetting even though he always told himself he would. He also knew you hate sudden noises, bitter coffee rather than sweeter one but then can eat the sweetest chocolate there is, which made him smile at that oddness you portrayed. He knew you loved the world by the way your eyes would watch a singular leaf fall from a tree on too the pavement like it was magic itself. And he knew you were a morally strong person who stood up to what you thought was right. All these things were so admirable, so perfect for him, for you two to work as one

He knew it was for sure love when the vanilla intoxicated everything. Permanently in-graved in his head that during the day Eijiro swears he can smell it at random. Even his ears have begun to deceive him, moulding the same pitch of laugh you make when out and about in random rooms. He even swears he has seen your figure swaying in the halls. He was sure this was love, his heart couldn’t seem to stop the rapid pulsing at the sheer thought of you.

But it made his head and soul hurt when he couldn’t explain to those around him about you - because all of a sudden it was like you didn’t exist. Like you were unworldly and unable to describe in words. And even if he tried his tongue would twist and from gibberish. He looked like an idiot but he’d laugh it off with a simple remark about some show he watched instead of a person he knew. He couldn’t even write about you as human - finding the loophole to write you as an inanimate object, choosing to write you like nature. What he could do, was draw you out, if he had better drawing skills he’d draw a portrait but for now, he keeps to scribbling your eyes wherever he seems belongs to on papers. The eyes that he wanted to haunt his thoughts.

He truly did think your eyes were ethereal, even with tears dripping unshamefully from them. Sadness or happiness, he always wanted to reach and tuck you to his side. Thankfully these tears were of happiness, mumbling on about how amazed you are Kirishima is growing as a hero and that he’s so cool - all of pure proudness and joy. Kirishima was sure you have saved him, always saying the right thing at his most pitiful state. He felt pathetic passing out in front of Fat Gum, but you reassured him that he did the right thing, the most heroic thing. Smiling brightly as your fingers danced on whatever the book was saying.

It was like a paradisical. Every breath you took was a breath taken for him. The way you made life so easy when your divine silhouette, your aura, was near him. Eijiro was thankful that when he closed his eyes to dream it was never going to be a nightmare. Not when your presence was near.

All he could ever wonder was why he woke up when you finished the chapter and closed the book.

Leaving him with a sigh and a smile, a sad goodbye on your eyes as you tucked the book back into its shelf in the numerical order. Until the next time you can turn the pages to see him again.

#boku no hero imagines #kirishima fluff #eijirou kirishima imagine #kirishima x reader #kirishima x you #bnha imagines #bnha fanfiction #mha x you #bnha x you #bnha eijiro x reader #mha x reader #kirishima x y/n #eijirou kirishima headcanons #red riot x reader #bnha headcanons #mha writing #kirishima eijiro fluff

[miss-choco-chips]

The dangers of sugar coating

Dick tries to give his little brother nice things (and fucks up), Tim is paranoid (and too tired to think clearly), and Damian thinks they might actually be a good team (while they plot Santa Claus’ downfall).

(Beacuse @animemangasoul and I decided we’ve been too rough with Tim lately, so I tried to give him some batfamily fluff. Somewhere along the way I fucked up and ended with this. No edit, pure crack)

-----.------

-Before I tell you anything, you need to promise me you won’t get mad.

The Bruce of ten years ago, new to parenting and oblivious to its dangers, would have done his best to emulate any ‘How to be a good Dad- guide for new, utterly lost fathers’ book. Now, though, tired after raising Dick to semi-adulthood and still hurting over Jason’s… Jason, he knew better. Life had toughtened him up.

So he didn’t raise his eyes from his newspaper, and gave into the urge of sipping his coffee before humming under his breath. Not even the slightest show of acceptance over those terms.

If Dick was asking that, instead of hiding whatever this was or dealing with it himself, it meant the situation was either out of his control, bound to make its way to Bruce eventually, or both. 

Probably both.

-Come on, B, just promise you won’t get all passive aggressive bitch on me. I did it for the greater good...

Another hum.

However, Dick has spent the same amount of time learning under his guide than he had raising him, so the younger was bound to develop some of his own tactics.

-...and I did it because Tim obviously needed it, so…

Warning bells ringing in his mind, Bruce gave up and shoot Dick a look. He didn’t seem overly guilty, so whatever this was, it probably wasn’t irreversible. But he was also shifting his weight from one leg to the other nervously, so… there was a catch here.

-What did you do?

-You didn’t promise.

-I won’t take your allowance away, but I may yell. It depends on how convincingly you make your case -compromise, he had learned after many, many mistakes, was as good a plan as any. 

-Deal -then, quickly, like ripping off a bandaid:- I might have made Tim slightly more neurotic than he was. On accident.

The bells turned into firefighter’s sirens. 

-What did you do?

They have had the fifteen year old living in the mannor for a few weeks at most. They couldn't possibly have already broken him, right?

Right?

Dick winced, but sat down by Bruce’s left (the side closest to the dining room’s window), which meant this was the only issue, but a hard to explain one.

-You see… We were talking, bonding over childhood memories and stuff, and… you know how christmas is just around the corner, and I asked him about Santa. I mean, obviously he doesn’t believe in that now, but the thing is, he never did.

-He’s too smart for that -growled Bruce, impatiente to get to the point and figure out just how much damage control would he be doing.

-No, his parents were too shitty. They were never there on Christmas, so no gifts under the tree unless he put them there himself, and whenever that happened, it was because his parents sent them and he wrapped them himself. Also no surprises, because he was the one asking for specific stuff. And I got a little sad, because how can a kid never believe in Santa? Like, come on. It’s part of the concept of childhood innocence. So...

Bruce waited a few beats, but Dick didn’t follow up. See, this was the moment where his parenting books would suggest waiting until the kid was good and ready for sharing his thoughts. But, since this was his younger child at stake here, he couldn't allow himself the luxury of letting a single second go.

-And? -he prompted, as gently as he could, trying not to spook Dick into abandoning ship.

-And I sort of… convinced him that Santa was real. Like, a full out super powered meta whose purpose in life was to bring joy to all of us. I texted Barbara and she planted some old looking reports on the batcomputer about it, to give credibility to the lie. I even drew parallels with Batman being thought of as a myth outside of Gotham to support the ‘Santa is real, people just don’t believe in him’ thing. And, after some hours of convincing and with Babs’ help, he bought it. So now, if Tim approaches you about it, you better back me up, because otherwise you would be ruining the last vestige of innocence Tim might still keep. Downside, though, Tim is now holed up in his bedroom searching the deep web for any Santa related info he can get his nerdy little paws on.

Silence in the room. Dick blurted out a goodbye and jumped out of the window. Bruce didn’t get up to check if he had landed safely on the other side. He probably had. 

Tired, he looked down at his coffee. Black, just like he needed it now.

He should have stopped at zero children.

----.----

Cassie watched, with no small amount of unholy glee, as Tim thoroughly convinced both Kon and Bart of Santa’s existence. One a clone with little social understanding and the other from a very dark future, they were unsurprisingly easy to convince.

This was the kind of hilarious shit that made being in a superhero team worth it. All the life and death situations were balanced out by this kind of drama-like absurdity.

Even better was Tim’s completely fucked up perspective on the matter.

-So you’re saying Santa is not only real, but a deranged psychopath? Who’s probably both a pedofile and a mind controlling scumbag? -Kon tilted his head, both confused and esceptic.

Cassie did her utmost best to keep a straight face while nodding along, as if everything Tim had laid down in front of them made perfect sense. 

-I thought it was stupid, too. But Dick showed me evidence, old reports, both handwritten and digital, and I found footage of Santa sneaking into the Manor when he was still young, deeply buried in the Batcomputer mainframe.

-Couldn’t that video be, you know… made up? -Bart asked, frown unusual on him firmly in place.

-If it was anywhere else? Sure. But this is The Batcomputer we’re talking about. Why would Batman have that kind of thing there? It was too heavily protected to be placed there as decoy for anyone hacking, not like they could ever get over Oracle’s firewalls. Besides, what reason would Batman have to invent this? I’m fifteen, I don’t need the ‘Santa fantasy’. The only believable answer is that Santa is real and very dangerous, and some people have taken his name for capitalism’s sake and made a holiday out of that and some religious backing, to get more people roped up into it. The true mastermind is obviously hiding somewhere out there, and the Christmas propaganda is merely a means to get funding for his devious plots.

Both metas hummed thoughtfully, Superboy even crossing his arms as he examined the pile of photos and papers Tim had laid out in front of them. Bart was nodding, hand cupping his jaw. The looked dead serious.

Cassie wanted to excuse herself to use the toilet (lead lidden because this was Gotham, specifically Tim’s secret place, so of course it was super-proof) so she could laugh her ass off, but the temptation of seeing this trainwreck to its fiery end was too strong. 

It was taking up all of her amazonian training to keep her straight face, though. Diana would be so proud.

-I even searched the deep web for Santa related crimes, and looked up his name in disturbing forums. You wouldn't believe what some people, serial killers and rapists both, do using Christmas as a theme. I couldn't sort through it all, it was that sick.

Kon looked utterly disturbed- So what do we do now? Christmas is just around the corner!

Bart got up and started pacing back and forth- We need to hunt this dude down. Christmas is about goodness and family! We can’t let this, this… psychopath ruin it! Think about the children of the world!!

Oh god, this was getting even better.

-But how? The man sounds like a velocist of some kind, I mean, running and leaving gifts everywhere in the world in the span of a few hours? How are we even gonna catch him?

-Maybe if we dress up as Elves? -Cassie couldn't stop herself from suggesting, voice choked in her effort to be serious, but most likely interpreted by the boys as clogged up on rage- From what Tim wrote here -she raised a paper from the pile, hand shaking- it looks like they are his mind-controlled slaves. If he thinks we ran from his captivity, he might take us to the North Pole with him to brainwash us again… Oh, but I probably shouldn't dress up, so you know, I can be back up if he manages to catch you three…

-That’s a great idea! -Bart’s skinny arms wrapped themselves around her neck, and she took the chance to hide her face in his mane of hair, corners of her mouth twitching up.

-Should I also record it? -she asks, almost begging- In case people don’t believe us later, when we have to explain why we imprisoned Santa.

-Yes, I think that might be wise -Tim conceded, eyes scanning his papers again.

Thank the gods. That tape was going to be Cassie’s most precious treasure forever.

-I think he has a way of controlling people’s minds too. Like, parents and stuff. And then he makes them be the ones to give his children gifts in his name, as a way of gaining their trust. Sick fucker.

-So you think it’s a kinky thing for him?

-Kon, he literally categorizes kids as ‘good’ or ‘naughty’. 

-You are right, we need to stop this bastard.

Cassie loved her boys so, so much. She also owed Dick Grayson the biggest high five.

----.----

Red Hood was just lighting up a cigarette when he saw Red Robin making his way to his rooftop. Cursing, he dropped the entire thing and kicked it away. The brat knew Jason smoked, but Dick had been on his ass lately about being a good brother, and he still felt kinda bad about trying to kill the kid twice, so he was actually trying to set a good example. 

Besides, out of the two possible little brothers to take under his wing, he certainly drew the lucky ticket, because while Dickie had gotten stranded with the pompous brat, Jason had the all around good kid circling his radar more often than not. Like, Tim had broken him out of prison, a little after Jason had done his best to end his life; he couldn't get more forgiving and nice than that. It certainly beat making a murder League child let go of his katana on a nightly basis.

-I need your help.

He blinked. While they certainly had worked cases together in the past, they were always preluded by some kind of smalltalk,  little banter, at least a ‘hello’. Not this straight to the point bullshit.

He had the urge to take out his guns, to protect them both of any threat following Red Robin here. He refrained.

-What’s the matter, babybird? What’s wrong?

Tim looked almost frazzled. The cowl was hanging around his neck, just a domino preserving his identity, and his hair was a knotted mess. Disveleshed was too little a word for his state.

-We need to make a plan to catch Santa Claus before Christmas this year. His reign of terror must end. It’s still not too late.

Yeah, okay, he might need that cigarette after all, to hell with Dick’s bitching. Besides, how bad of a influence could that be, when this kid was obviously already on some kind of drugs? Like, Santa? Really?

-What… do you mean?

What followed was an hour long rant on the dangers of a super powered, evil version of the myth that Tim had somehow cooked up on his mind.

Was this real? The kid looked far too distraught for a joke.

-… Does Nightwing know about this? -whatever ‘this’ was- Bats?

Tim shook his hands frantically. Jason was legit getting worried.

-N was the one who told me about Santa -there, he knew this smelled like a Golden Boy trademark fuck up-, but he seems to be under his spell. Bruce as well. They tried to convince me he is some kind of good-hearted samaritan. Jason -he stated, breaking the no names during patrol rule, a show of just how deep into the rabbit hole he was- you wouldn't  believe what I found on the deepweb. Joker’s yearly special seems tame in comparison.

That, Jason could believe. But he was also fairly sure you could type about any word in the darkest side of the net, and find half a dozen kinky or deranged things that matched. Santa-temed crimes? More likely than anyone would believe. Real life Santa doing the deed? Not so much.

Tim had been too young when Dick lied to his face, most likely. And nowadays, the young vigilante was running on three hours of sleep on a good week. And it wasn’t even too far fetched to believe, on their line of business, specially when dealing with metas and supervillains day in and day out.

Still…

-Kid, I don’t know how to tell you this, but… Santa isn’t real -he told him, slowly, hands raised as if to touch his shoulders but not daring to actually make contact. Tim looked so manic he might actually nerve strike him.

The icy blue eyes were hidden under his mask, but Jason knew from the way he tensed that Tim was terrified.

-He got to you, too -he whispered, almost too softly for him to hear. Then, without giving Jason the chance to inquire further, he turned tail and disappeared into the night.

....

He really needed that cigarette.

----.----

When Drake told the family he was taking Damian under his wing for a case, everyone seemed so happy he couldn't just shoot the other man down. Besides, reluctant as he was to admit it, Red Robin was the superior detective in the entirety of the team, so there would be rewards for taking the blow to his pride and working with him.

He expected to be directed through some easy case, maybe a little puzzling but not too challenging. Or be sidelined while Drake worked through things, so he could learn by example.

This, though, this he hadn’t foresaw.

This case was way more serious.

-How come Father has allowed this depravancy to continue?! -exclaimed Damian, hands gripping the sheets of information tightly- This ‘Santa’s’ influence has been permitted to cement on too many people already! And it keeps growing!

-I know. Fuck, I know. But I can’t get anyone to help me. My team knows, but sadly we aren’t enough. Bruce and Dick don’t believe me, and neither does any other hero I contacted on the matter. It’s just like when B was missing in time; they either think I’m crazy, or try to sugarcoat things, like they would with a baby.

Damian snorted, disbelieving. Whatever his opinion might be on his predecessor, he at least knew to trust his insight in a case. Grandfather himself had recognized his genius on that field.

They were on Drake’s perch, his center of operations outside of Batman’s influence. He would never admit it out loud, but if Damian ever needed his own batcave, it would be just like this one. 

Now, the long table in front of him was completely covered in information, case reports, photos taken from live footage, deepweb forums’ conversations, history books…

-And you say this… monster, targets children?

-I mean, he brainwashes the parents too, but that seems like a plot to both increase his economic funds and to gain the children’s trust.

-How are you so sure they are his objective?

-The parents tell their children Santa is ‘always observing them’, and ask if they ‘have been good’ that year. If they aren’t perceived as obedient, Santa leaves them coal, which incentives them to do their best to change that by next year’s christmas. 

-Maybe the coal and gifts have mind control devices, or some magic?

-My thoughts exactly.

Damian frowns even deeper. He’s glad Drake is taking his detective training seriously, but if father himself is being deceived, he wonders what can the two of them (plus Drake’s team) do.

-What about Todd? Red Hood is proclaimed as Saint Protector of Children in Crime Alley, after all. He certainly has opinions about this ‘Santa’ person. 

Timothy shakes his head- He got Jason too. I suspect he’s been under his control ever since he was a child at the manor. 

-So, we are alone in this.

-Essentially, yes. Thankfully, not everyone celebrates christmas. Some religions flat out forbid it, so we won’t have as much ground to cover when we lay out a trap. We could choose a close by location and plan around it. 

He nods, back straight with purpose. He -and Drake, he supposes- would be freeing Father and Grayson, along with the rest of the victims, from this madman’s control. Maybe even Todd, if he has the time.

-I’m with you on this endeavor, Drake.

-Good. Remember we need to act natural in front of the family. If Santa catches wind of what we’re doing, he might focus his efforts in getting to us. 

Damian wants to say to let him come, he would show him why it's a bad idea to mess with his family. But Drake is, admittedly, the superior detective, and it seems he’s been working on this for a long time now. Damian will defer to his judgement this one time.

Drake’s superior knowledge and Damian’s unrivaled training might be what’s needed to orchestrate this ‘Santa’s’ downfall.

They will be a good team, he thinks.

#My writing #Tim Drake #batfamily #Batfamily Fanfic #core four #Dick grayson #Bruce Wayne #cassie sandsmark #kon el kent #conner kent #bart allen #jason todd #Damian wayne #this is just crack guys #Tim thinks Santa is out to get everyone #he's a tired boy okay #no edit #tw: mentions of child abuse #nothing graphic just Tim doing typical comic book research

[poly-losers-club]

Ben x Mike hc, please???

Oh my god okay so the most gorgeous, adorable thing just struck me!

So like, both Mike and Ben spent their formative years kind of in isolation right? Mike because he was homeschooled and Ben because he wasnt very good at making friends prior to the Losers Club.

So what if... what if Ben and Mike... started hanging out more often just the two of them until they like, decide to have a sleepover. But like, they’ve never had one before so they’re not quite clear on the rules of how it works.

They’re kind of just going off what they’ve heard goes on at sleepovers.

Like Mike brings a whole picnic basket of food with him. Not realising that of course he will be fed while over at Ben’s house (they still enjoy having a midnight picnic on the roof of Ben’s house).

Ben looks quizzically at the sleeping bag his mother laid out beside his bed.

“I have a sleeping bag for you to sleep on the floor.” 

“Ok.”

“But it would be more comfortable to just share the bed though. You wanna just share the bed?”

“Yes please!”

And like, now that they’re here, on this ~sleepover~ like... what do they do?

Mike remembers seeing kids playing truth or dare in a movie once. So they try that.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth”

“Ok who do you like?”

“Beverly. Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

“Who do you like?”

“I don’t know anybody.”

“Oh.”

Truth or dare doesn’t last long. Its not very fun. Why do people always play it?!?

Dinner time is so cute with Ben’s Mom being just ecstatic that her son has a friend over. And Mike is just so lovely and polite and answers every single one of her questions and calls her “Mrs Hanscom ma’am” which makes Mrs Hanscom want to giggle with glee.

They go into the back yard and kick a ball back and forth cause like, isn’t that what kids their age do?

Who knows. Maybe.

Then Ben asks does Mike wanna go to his room and read? and Mike is like “YES!” 

And so these cuties do just that!

Ben is all like, “I can lend you a book, I’ve got lots” and Mike is like “no need, I brought my own” because of course he did!

But then in the middle of their reading, separate, quiet, at different ends of the bed Mike is like “WE SHOULD MAKE A FORT!”

And of course, Ben, future architect extraordinaire is like “YES!” with lots of emphasis.

And so they set about making the most wonderful and elaborate fort. With lots of cushy pillows and blankets covering the ground so they can lay in there together and resume their reading in the utmost comfort until they both fall asleep.

And that... is Ben and Mike’s first sleepover. 

But it is definitely not their last. 

They have a special bond those two. Richie calls it the “bookworm bond”. And they’ll take it. Because they are both gentle good-natured souls, they can handle a joke. 

And just... they find so much peace in being with each other. 

Mike see’s all the worry melt away from Ben’s face when his nose is buried in a book. And the excitement in his eyes when he’s sharing something new with Mike that he just read about, its breathtaking. 

And Ben, Ben can’t help but to watch Mike every now and then while he’s laid out on his side reading. Languid like a cat. But then he’ll glance up and catch Ben looking and give him the most kind and handsome smile and Ben will feel his cheeks heat up and he’ll hide himself in his book again.

They don’t get together in any official capacity until many years later. But they both have to admit, the love started a lot earlier than that. 

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*✲ﾟ*｡⋆ 

#Anonymous #HCs #hanslon #ben hanscom #mike hanlon

[the-lonely-tree-original]

5 Times Ed Carried Al and 1 the Other Way Around

I.)

Alphonse was 10 and he already felt like his world was destroyed. His mother was dead, killed a second time by her children. He had lost his body to the transmutation and been forced into a metal encasing. And, most prominently, his free spirited brother was broken. Broken beyond repair, it seems.

His normally shining eyes were ringed with shadows caused by sleepless nights and the guilt at what they had done.

His loud voice, filled with excitement and wonderful personality was dulled down into meek murmurings.

His confident smile had all but disappeared.

When Edward lost his limbs it felt like they took his soul with them.

The thought on Alphonse’s mind lately was that he was to blame. 

It had started when he’d heard his brother talking animatedly for what felt like the first time in forever. Alphonse felt like his heart swelled, even if he didn’t have the body to prove so. He’d rushed into the dining room to see what made his brother so happy.

Abruptly, the cheerful noises quieted down, and Edward turned his head warily to him, looking at him with a pained expression. “Hey Al,” he tried, giving him a wobbly smile, but it was obviously forced.

The sudden disquiet within the room was evidently caused by him. Alphonse spoke softly, trying to comfort his brother, but the mood of the room was permanently changed. Al watched as his brother fell asleep in tears that night. 

The second time it happened was when Edward fell sick with a fever, calling out for his brother. Alphonse jumped to comfort, making it to his beside in seconds. The sick boy had reached out his hand, grasping for another to meet it. The suit of armor was quick to comply, grasping the smaller hand in his gauntlets.

Edward had pulled away, cries becoming louder, calling for his brother but shrugging off all contact made by him. It wasn’t until Winry and Pinako came into the room, placing their warm, soft, flesh hands in his own, that he calmed down.

Alphonse knew that his brother was adverse to his metal body, so he became scarce in his second home, hoping to soothe his own guilt by exploring the expansive fields of Resembool.

He’d discovered hiding places and giant pits and even a family of rabbits, but nothing compared to having his brother by his side. He wondered, had he not been trapped in this suit of armor, would he and Ed be exploring these together?

As he entered the Rockbell house, trying to tone down the clanking of his metal appendages, he took note of his brother by the window… stuck in that awful wheelchair… trapped. His gaze was pointed towards the grassy fields and blue skies. Alphonse remembered how much he loved to play - even more than he loved alchemy.

Making his decision in a split second he marched over to his brother, startling the elder out of his thoughts. “Come on brother, we’re going outside.”

Without waiting for his response, the younger grabbed ahold of the chair, steering his brother towards the door.

It only took a few minutes for them to make a game of it, racing the chair as fast as they could across the field. Alphonse looked down at his older brother, noticing the wide smile on his face and listening happily as the elder screamed in excitement.

Alphonse felt fuzzy at the thought of his idea being the cause.

It wasn’t long though, until misfortune struck. They hit a pothole and the chair bounced. It took Al less than a second to choose between the chair and his brother, reaching out and grabbing the other’s torso. The chair flew into the air and came crashing down.

There was a wheezing sound, and Al thought that he’d accidentally hurt his brother, still not being used to the strength of his new body, but the wheezing turned to chuckles, which turned to full out laughter.

He couldn’t help but laugh as well.

Glumly though, he noted that the chair was broken, a wheel was missing and the arm was snapped off. “I don’t think we’ll be able to bring you back on this, brother,” he said. “I’ll have to carry you.”

Adjusting his hold on Ed, from the strange stomach hold to a bridal carry, he leaned down and picked up the broken pieces of the wheelchair. He fumbled a bit with the wheel, not having any particular dexterity with grabbing multiple things at once.

“Here, Al, let me help,” Ed offered, holding out his remaining arm. Alphonse let out a grateful breath, trying to convey his thankfulness through the only expressive feature he had, his eyes. His brother grasped the wheel, and then tucked himself into the metal arm more securely.

“You know, Al,” he said, “Playing with you earlier was fun, but I think I like this even more.”

II.)

Edward’s loud snores filled the passenger booth of the train, steering Al in the direction of heavy thoughts. It did give Alphonse some peace of mind to see his brother relaxing for once, taking a break from the constant physical therapy and studying that had been distracting him for the past couple of weeks (months).

And he did find happiness in the thought that Edward was moving forward from their trauma, he really did, but it was still a depressing thought that, if Ed did pass the State Alchemy Exam, there would be less times like this. Instead, he’d have to watch as his brother burdened more than his fair share of worries, stressing over both Alphonse and his job. Would brother still be able to sleep on the train so contently if he knew that the lives of others were dependent on him?

And that was it, wasn’t it? Edward was already crippled with guilt when it came to Alphonse - a situation that they both put themselves into despite the others’ denials - so what would become of him if he wasn’t successful and somebody got hurt?

He knew his brother. He knew his brother better than probably himself. So he could say, without a doubt, that if Edward ever got into a situation where others were in danger, and one of them got hurt, he’d blame himself. And what would happen if someone he’d gotten close to died? Alphonse shuddered at the thought. For all of Ed’s tough love act, it was only an act. He cared so deeply about those he surrounded himself with. It just wouldn’t be fair to take another person away from their lives. Not with mom, not with the Rockbells, and even Dad now missing.

He looked down at his brother’s sleeping face, for once not pinched with stress. Deep down, Alphonse knew that if brother could reject the idea of becoming a state alchemist, he would. Edward could never put himself in a situation where he’d have to kill others. He’d fight, tooth and nail, kicking and screaming.

But orders were orders. And Alphonse knew that Ed would do anything to help him. It made his non-existant heart ache to think of the sacrifices that Edward would be making while he sat on the sidelines, watching his brother tear himself apart.

Brother won’t have to worry about that if he’s longer alive to witness it, a twisted voice sing-songed inside his head. This brought a whole new load of worry. Everyday, Edward would be putting himself in danger, making himself a target to criminals and enemies of the state. Though Al had the utmost confidence in his brother’s abilities, had even been there to witness them himself, he knew that his brother was still human, his metal flesh only making it that much more apparent. Bullet holes weren’t something that you could just walk away from. 

But Alphonse also knew that this was the only way. How else were they supposed to get money  for research? How else were they to get access to the books they needed? How else were they supposed to research such a coveted secret without drawing attention?

How else were they supposed to return themselves to normal?

As Alphonse looked over the sleeping face of his brother, he wondered all these things.

A jarring voice cut into his darkening thoughts, saving him from even more sadness and worry. It was the conductor, his tone crackly over the booth speaker. “We are now arriving at Central Station,” it said.

This was their stop. It was the last escape they had until their lives changed forever. A selfish part of Alphonse wanted to grab his brother and leave, at least delaying until it was too late to take the exam. The thought was almost immediately dismissed, guilt ramming into the metal armor like a freight train.

He couldn’t do that to brother. He couldn’t prolong Ed’s suffering. If becoming a state alchemist was what it truly took to get their bodies back, then he couldn’t stand in their way. Not when it was Edward who made himself sick with guilt over that night. He already couldn’t stand that he was the source of his brother’s misery. How could he think to take an active part in it?

The hulking armor bent down to softly shake his brother awake, rousing words already on the tip of his tongue, but stopped just before he could make contact.

He thought of Edward’s small form, finally lax of tension. His lips parted slightly, emitting soft snores instead of pained moans. The bags under his eyes, lightened as he got some well deserved rest.

Making his choice, Alphonse turned around and hefted his brother onto his back, miraculously not waking him up. He then reached up to grab Ed’s luggage, pausing in trepidation when he heard the smaller move on his plating. Much to his glee, however, Edward had only been searching for a more comfortable spot, snuggling into his shoulder. How this was comfortable, he didn’t know, but he felt warm like only his real body did whenever Ed relaxed in his hold.

As he made his way onto the station, he adjusted his hold on his still sleeping brother, knowing that he would need the rest for the days to come. There was no doubt in his mind that Edward would pass the test. The invigilators would have to be blind to miss talent like his. But there was still the lingering doubt about what was to come.

To be honest, he didn’t think he’d ever be free of it.

To satiate his own worries, Alphonse made a promise. A promise to always stay by his brother’s side, no matter what. They’d always bear their burdens together. If Ed didn’t want him to become a state alchemist, that’s fine, but he’d have to make do with his brother tagging along with him.

III.)

“NO! I DON’T CARE WHAT THAT JERK SAYS, I’M NOT GONNA!”

Alphonse sighed, “You can and you will, brother.”

The blonde alchemist crossed his arms and let out a huff. “I refuse.”

The suit of armor looked his brother up and down, sizing him up. Discretely inching towards him, Al started, “Look, brother, I know that this is more… ostentatious then necessary, but we can’t just run away every time Colonel Mustang gives you an order you don’t agree with.”

“I’m not running away.” Liar. He didn’t make eye contact.

Not looking a gift horse in the mouth, the younger alchemist continued to prod at his brother (“oh sure you weren’t”) while he slowly closed the distance.

“I wasn’t!” Ed responded - suspiciously quick, might Alphonse add. “I was only waiting for him to finish his goddamn paper work so that I could punch the bastard without Hawkeye blowing a hole in me.”

During that particular explosion of indignation, the suit of armor had been able to move a whole foot closer. He was just out of reach of the other Alchemist. “So you were running away from the First Lieutenant then.”

“What? No! It was a tactical decis- what are you planning?”

Dang it. He hadn’t gotten a chance to move. Trying his luck, he spoke once more, his voice the perfect example of innocence, or so he’d been told. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just think that if you keep refusing direct orders from the Colonial, then he might begin to believe that we aren’t worth keeping around. Not with all the property damage and all.”

“That was one time!” Ed raised his hand in what would have been an extravagant gesture, only to stop about halfway through. “Hey, wait a sec. You can’t change the topic like that and expect to get away with it. Now tell me what you’re gonna do.”

“Honestly brother, you’re so accusative. Am I not allowed to express my opinion every once in a while?”

Ed narrowed his eyes. “See, this is what I mean. Why are you so fixated on this? I would think that’d you’d be even more against it than I am, considering it’s just a waste of time. If anything, you seem to enjoy this more than the bas-”

The blonde cut off abruptly, and Al could tell the exact moment he realized. Golden eyes widened, and the smaller body jerked to turn around, only to be stopped before he could by a pair of very strong, very big metal arms.

“No no no no!” He cried, kicking and thrashing with the only free limbs he had. A hollow clanging was heard as the metal armor made his way back to Eastern Command. “You wouldn’t do this to me Al. Come on. I’m your older brother. You wouldn’t betray me like this, right?”

His struggles increased tenfold as they entered the building, forgoing words altogether in favor of wild screeching. A few of the staff turned their heads, questioning glances trailing the brothers’ backs.”Quiet down, brother. People are beginning to stare.” Ed head-butted him for that. Though, it did more damage to the blonde than it ever did to him.

At one point, Ed had wiggled enough to break free, on the run the instant his feet touched the floor. The smaller alchemist was faster and would have undoubtedly gotten away if not for the subject of Edward’s ire.

“Why hello, Fullmetal. I didn’t think you’d be this enthusiastic to show up here.” Alphonse released an inward sigh of relief at the sight of the familiar man, supporting a rather smug grin on the face. The pause it took for Edward to process his anger was all Al needed to snag the back of his collar.

“It’s nice to see you, Colonel. Brother and I were just heading over to the western corridor.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you for chaperoning him.” Both ignored the blonde’s outraged cries. “I saw the group earlier myself, and I must say that they’re pretty excitable. I’m feeling a little guilty for assigning them to Fullmetal here, but it should be nothing for the famous ‘Hero of the People’” The man pulled out his watch. “Ahh, well I better go. Lunch break is almost over. They sure do keep us on a short leash here, don’t they Fullmetal?”

“What’s that supposed to mean!” Did Alphonse ever say that he felt relieved at the Colonel's presence? He wanted to take that back. Edward was even more riled up than before. Scooping up the other into his arms, he set off again, closing his ears off to the string of curses that would surely accompany him.

Alphonse saw the tour group before Ed did, and thus was able to catch the elder’s grumbles about turning him into a wastebasket(?) before the blonde would surely panic again.

Ed, however, did not scream or kick or run or anything of the sort. Instead, he froze for a bit before calmly tapping on the younger’s chestplate, signaling to be let down. Distrustfully, Al did so. 

The younger Elric was so preoccupied with watching the other’s body language for signs of fleeing, that he did not see the shit eating grin plastered on the other’s face. Alphonse watched as his brother stepped to the side and held out his arms in a presenting manner. Alphonse watched (confusedly) as his brother looked up at him and winked.

There was a rough coughing as Edward cleared his throat. “Sorry if we kept you waiting guys. It’s just that Eastern Command was short on staff and decided to bring you something a little special today. May I present to you the Fullmetal Alchemist.”

A hoard of screaming fans descended on the unfortunate suit of armor.

IV.)

A warm light drifted across the pavement, casted by row upon row of street lamps. No figures got in the way, projecting shadows with their terrifying shapes.

In Central, there was always this ominous feeling. A warning just screaming to be heeded. To be cautious. A warning that there was something lurking around the corner.

Tonight there wasn’t.

The lack of people should have been disturbing, but the distant sound of pots clanging and children laughing within households blocked out that foreboding aura. This also left them away from prying eyes - innocent in their intentions, but deadly in their effect. Alphonse should be content.

But he’s not.

How could he be when his four foot eleven, spitfire of an older brother looked like he’d been forced to drink an entire gallon of milk?

It seemed that his brother’s mood was destined to grow darker by the minute. First, he wouldn’t get out of bed in the morning, ending up over an hour late to his meeting with Colonel Mustang. Then, he wouldn’t touch his food, saying it looked too nauseating to eat (Alphonse spent many minutes apologizing to the deli worker for Edward’s behavior). It all escalated to him snapping at an old lady and her granddaughter on the train. The little girl started crying!

So no. Alphonse was not happy.

“It’s a beautiful night, brother. We are going to spend it outside,” Alphonse said. Then, as an afterthought (but no less important), “and your attitude is going to change.”

Edward looked up at him, indignation shining bright in his eyes. He opened his mouth to refute, and Al prepared himself for the tirade, but he closed his lips before a sound got out. The elder of the two grimaced, and lowered his head in defeat. “Yeah, you're probably right. I haven’t been the best of company today… sorry, Al.”

The armor in question perked up, pleasantly surprised at the admission. “It’s okay brother!” He leaned low, pointing a finger out. “But you better make it up to me on our walk.”

Ed’s eyes moved, peeking out at him from under his bangs, before his head turned away entirely. In a low, reluctant voice, the Fullmetal Alchemist said, “It’s just that… it’s gonna rain soon.”

Alphonse was confused for a second, kind of mad at his brother for making an obvious lie - there were no clouds in the sky - before he realized what that sentence entailed. 

“Have you been hurting all day?” he asked, much more understanding than before. Alphonse couldn’t see Edward’s face. He couldn’t read the obvious signs: the tight mouth, the wandering eyes, the creeping blush. The hunching of his shoulders, however, indicated that Edward obviously had, all the same.

“Brother!” he chided, in the same tone that mom would use when they did something stupid, “why didn’t you tell me!”

“It’s fine, Al,” came the embarrassed reply. “All we were gonna do was rent an apartment for the night anyways. It wasn’t like we were getting into anything dangerous.”

“That doesn’t count as an excuse!”

The older boy turned around. “What do you mean it doesn’t? It’s not like it’s important right now.”

Alphonse repressed a sigh. “I should have known. You’re always cranky, but it’s never really bad unless you’re in pain.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!”

“Here.” He lowered himself to the ground until he was in a crouch. “Get on.”

Al heard the embarrassed choke behind him. “I’m fine, Alphonse. Let’s just go on that walk.”

He shook his helmet. “If it really is about to rain, then your ports have to be aching awfully. It just wouldn’t be fair to you to make you stay out any later. Right now, we should get you home and get you taken care of. I’m not having your leg give out and you getting a concussion.”

Edward sighed and hesitated a few seconds longer before giving up and getting on his younger brother’s back. “I’m fine walking, you know.”

“Mhm,” Alphonse agreed.

“I’m serious. I just couldn’t pass up on a free ride. Didn’t wanna spend the energy.”

“Of course.”

Alphonse hefted him up, earning a rather undignified squeak. He saw more than felt the arms wrapping around his neck.

Sometimes he felt like his brother was the one made of metal, not him. It was like he wrapped himself and armor and never let anyone else in. Alphonse liked to think that he was the exception, but could he really believe that when Ed couldn’t even share his sufferings?

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” Edward had adjusted himself to sit on his shoulders, seemingly at ease for the time being. “We should probably get going. As empty as it is, standing on the streets is still gonna draw some weird glances.”

“Oh… right… sorry.” He began to walk, grabbing his brother’s leg with his gauntlet (a habit he still hadn’t gotten rid of from his human body).

When they arrived at the apartment, Alphonse set Edward down, noticing the small wince upon doing so. He couldn’t miss the slight hobble in his brother’s steps as he made his way to the waiting bed.

“Do you need help with anything?”

Ed looked up, the beginnings of a blush on his cheeks. “Uh, I wouldn’t mind a cup of water.”

Alphonse left and returned with the requested drink. After a small clap, the cup was abandoned on the floor, steam drifting up from it. “Ahhh, that feels so much better.”

Alphonse wanted to smile, glad that he could do something to help. Instead, he had to settle for looking at his brother fondly.

“So, today on the train…” he began, internally smiling as Edward took the bait.

It’s okay to admit to pain, brother.

Because, I’ll stay right by your side.

No matter what.

V.)

“Al, let me down.”

“Not now, brother.”

“Aaaaaaallllllllllllll.”

“Not now.”

“Ugh. People are staring.”

Alphonse looked up at the sentence in question. He’d never known his brother to get embarrassed over stuff like that. He said as much.

“Shut up! I’m not embarrassed. It’s just that I’m the Alchemist of the people. I have to make sure they don’t see me as a little kid who can’t even walk out in the rain.”

Alphonse laughed a little. “They won’t, Ed. They’d just respect your intelligence in choosing to avoid the wrath of a certain automail mechanic, lest she finds out that you got her automail rusty.”

Al heard his brother blow a large breath onto his helmet. “She doesn’t have to find out.”

“She will find out. And when she does find out, you’ll meet an untimely death via wrench.”

The armor listened fondly as his brother ranted about Winry’s gear-head quirks.

Ok, so maybe protecting his brother wasn’t the only reason he wasn’t letting him go. Maybe it had to do with their last mission, and how he had almost lost his brother when he let him wander out of his sight. Maybe he was too scared to let that happen again.

But…

...Ed didn’t have to know.

“Trust me brother, I’m doing this for your own good. We can’t have the famous hero of the people walking around with a hole the size of a wrench in his head.”

“It’s never a hole. It’s always a bump.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want to have that either.” Images of his brother, bloody, bruised, and beaten flashed before his head. It was probably not a good idea to continue on with this particular topic. “Hey, your report isn’t going to be soaked by the rain, isn’t it?”

“What? Oh. No, it’s fine. I slaved for hours over that thing. I wasn’t going to let that go to waste. Even if my automail was still hurting, I’d remember to laminate it.” Was he talking about the pressure buildup or was it from an injury he hadn’t caught?

“That’s good. The Colonel would probably make you redo it.”

“Probably? Of course he would. The bastard wouldn’t miss a chance to ruin my day.” Sometimes, Al felt the same way. Why did he have to send brother off on such dangerous missions? He may be a state alchemist, but he was still a kid.

When they finally arrived at HQ, Mustang greeted them with a quirked eyebrow and a not-so-discreet once over. “Alphonse. Fullmetal. What exactly brings you here today?”

“Mission report,” Ed answered stiffly, trying to hide his embarrassment at his position.

“Well, let’s see it,” the man responded tiredly. “To be honest, I thought something was wrong with the both of you. You never make sure to be on time while handing in these things. I actually have a running bet with the rest of the team on whether or not you’ll show up two days late or three.”

“Har har, very funny. So do you want to take this or not? I’ve got better things to do.” Ed handed over the paperwork to his superior, returning his hands to Alphonse’s head once more.

“Like what?” Mustang asked, “Playing a game of piggyback with your brother? I could use some help sorting files, you know.”

Alphonse cut in before Edward could yell the other man’s ear off. “The rain puts brother’s automail at the risk of rusting. I’m carrying him to at least keep him away from the puddles.”

His brother rounded on him with a betrayed face. “Alphonse, how could you?”

Ed, luckily, found a new target of his ire.

“Well, we wouldn’t want you to drown in them, now would we.”

“Okay, that’s it, you overgrown, slimy, two-faced-”

“Brother!” He had to physically tether the blonde to his shoulders to prevent a homicide. “Have a good night Colonel.” Alphonse was sure his embarrassment showed through his voice. “Edward and I will be off now.”

As soon as they were out of sight of the building, Alphonse sifted his brother’s position from his shoulders to his chestplate, hugging him close.

“Al, what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, brother. It’s just… that you really scared me.” Ed, having noticed this desperation in affection, stopped all remaining struggles, choosing instead to melt into the metal embrace as best as he could.

And if that didn’t send a pang through Al’s heart chest. He might not ever get to hug his brother again with his human arms. To ever feel his brother’s warmth and love.

“You’re getting older, Ed. And that means that you’ll be going on more missions with more dangers. And one day, what if it’s too much? What if you don’t make it back?”

Edward frowned and, for once, the disappointment was pointed towards him. “I’m not going to die, Al.”

“You almost did, Ed! And what if I wasn’t there to protect you!”

His brother looked up, golden eyes meeting his own soulfire gaze. “Nothing would have happened.”

“You can’t say that.”

“I can, because I know that, if I did, I’d be leaving you all alone.” Alphonse had looked away, but something about his brother’s tone brought him back. “And I couldn’t do that. Not without making sure that you’re safe and happy and comforted.”

His voice trailed off.

“Right now, you aren’t. Not while you’re still stuck in that body I put you in. So i won’t just roll over anytime soon.”

Alphonse felt a fluttering of happiness at Edward’s words, but it was twisted with the bittersweet realization that they were a false security.

“That’s not your choice to make.”

Edward sighed, “Maybe not but... more than anything, I want to get your body back. I want to live to see it. I don’t want to have to look down from whatever place counts as the afterlife and watch you experience that without me.”

“If you want my happiness and my wellbeing a fraction as much as I do you, then you’d know that your own happiness is what would make me more content than anything. I can’t trust that you’ll ever fully be happy until you get your body back. Therefore, the only option is to keep trying. Trust in me and my tenacity to get back what was stolen from you.”

The ever accompanying, ‘and your body too,’ was forgotten at Edward’s words. Because this is what he had been telling himself the whole time, repeated back to his face. His brother would never be truly happy unless he was happy himself.

He squeezed his brother tightly. “Okay,” he said.

“Okay.” The reassuring clang of metal against metal rang in the streets. Edward had pounded his automail against Al’s chestplate. “We should probably stop worrying about this stuff, all it’s going to do is make us sick.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah? Okay, well could you let me back up there?”

Al started, the moment ruined. “Up… where?”

“Onto your shoulders, you idiot. If I’m going to stay alive a bit longer than I gotta prevent my automail from rusting. The rain’s already pushing it. Winry will probably have my head if we don’t get them dried soon.”

“Oh… right! We should probably get home soon!”

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

VI.)

Al spent the majority of the first few days sitting in his hospital bed with the company of his brother, teacher, and all of the wonderful people he’d come to know. Even his father was there to visit once, although he left shortly after. 

He occupied himself with relaxing in the warm, fuzzy blankets, and taking in the smell of flowers and sweets his visitors left for him. Unfortunately, he couldn’t eat any real food for now as his body was not ready for it, but he was salivating at the thought.

Those first few days were just about that happiest in his life. Even the walks to the restroom weren’t that bad. With his muscles so atrophed, he wasn’t supposed to do anything that strenuous for months, but he was determined to do it. The exhaustion tugged at his limbs, making them feel like they were transmuted into giant lumps of metal, and he couldn’t be happier for it.

The best part wasn’t even the senses he’d worked so hard to experience. No. The best part was that his brother would be right alongside him. He’d smile at Al so genuinely, guiding him gently by the arm, a lingering touch of heat still burning hot even after his fingertips left the skin. The blinding smile set loose dopamine into his brain, his physical brain, allowing him to experience the bliss even more so. Whenever Edward made eye contact he felt drugged on euphoria, because everything - EVERYTHING - was finally going to be alright. So yes, those short walks were the highlights of his days.

I took two whole weeks before he could even stomach soups, and when the warm liquid touched his tongue, he almost fell off of his hospital bed in surprise. What happened after was that he dissolved into a fit of laughter, he never knew food could be this amazing. Ed was there to steady him the whole time.

Physical training was hard, Al couldn’t deny that. Sometimes it sucked all the life out of him after just bending over. There were times where he walked two feet and it felt like a marathon and his good mood was almost ruined. 

But his brother was always there to steady him.

On particularly bad days he would hardly get two inches before toppling over. Before he could reach the ground, however, a firm body would be underneath him, arms already tucked around his legs to carry him piggyback style. Alphonse would tease good naturedly (to get Edward back for all the times he’d fought him), talk about how he didn’t need to be babied, but it was really nice for the situation to be reversed for once.

Now he could relax in his brother’s hold. Now he could finally feel his brother’s heartbeat when his head pressed to his chest. It almost felt like Ed hadn’t been injured at all, with how gently he cradled him.

“Brother,” he said one day, after they had gotten ice cream from the hospital cafeteria, “how long until I can carry you?”

Ed got a funny face at that, telling him that he hadn't recovered yet and how even if he was, it was still the older brother’s job to take care of the younger.

Alphonse took that as a challenge, sneakily putting his ice cream down and going for the tackle. “Al!” His brother went down with a screech, landing painfully on his butt. Taking advantage of Ed’s surprise, Alphonse was able to partially get his brother on his shoulder before his muscles gave out, panting.

“You idiot!” Edward was in front of his face now, checking him over for any sort of injuries. “You could have messed up all your hard work.”

Al felt his face heat up (and the fact that he could blush now was something his brother mercilessly teased now), and ashamedly turned his head. “It seemed fun at the time.”

“That’s not a good excuse and you know it.”

“Okay, okay. Can you just help me up now?”

Ed looked at him exasperatedly, with his hands on his hips and everything. “No,” he said.

Al looked up. “What? Why?”

“Because-” Alphonse felt his shoulder being tugged and he thought his brother was giving in, but- “We need to take you back to your room and get your arms looked at. I’ll carry you so that you don’t harm anything else.”

“Brother, I’m fine-”

He was interrupted by the sight of a pink tongue poking out of his brother’s lips.

“Real mature.” There was no heat behind it. In fact, Al didn’t even struggle as his center of gravity lifted, signaling him leaving the ground. Instead, he snuggled into his brother’s back, letting strands of golden-blonde hair tickle his nose. The steady warmth that came off of his brother’s back was relaxing, and he found his eyes closing, drifting off into a half asleep, half awake state.

“You comfortable up there?”

“Mmm.”

Edward laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

There was a slight bouncing as Ed took his steps, but Alphonse didn’t care. It only relaxed him further. He found it cozy with his face half-buried in his brother’s cotton shirt.

It feels real nice to be carried like this. By you.

There was a slight squeaking and then Al was rotated, placed on the plushy mattress bed. He turned his head a little, nestling into the cool material of his pillow.

Ed must have thought he was asleep, because a weight settled at his side and fingers began playing in his hair, smoothing it out in the way his mother always did.

When he finally spoke, Alphonse could feel the fond smile on his face, radiating off of him. “I’m so happy that you have your body back. Love you, Alphonse.”

And I you.

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