#and i’m not out to the rest of my family but like she’s telling me that she’s proud of me

[alotofpockets]

Rough shift | Caitlin Foord x Doctor!Reader

Where Caitlin comforts you after you lose one of your patients

Warnings: surgery, blood, cpr, patient death

Woso masterlist | Words: 2.5k

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“Good morning, how is my favourite little Champ doing?” You ask as you walk into Maya’s hospital room, followed by four of your interns. “I’m doing good.” She answered, but the smile didn’t fully reach her eyes, a tell tale that she wasn’t telling the truth.

You had met Maya last year, when you moved back home to work at the hospital you worked at before. It had been hard leaving London, moving away from your girlfriend and your friends, but there was a shortage of pediatric surgeons at your former place of employment, and they reached out to you. You talked about it a lot with your girlfriend, Caitlin, who was very understanding of why you felt like you needed to go.

The two of you have been doing long distance for the duration of it. While it was hard at times, the two of you made it work. You were already excited to see her later today, since she and the rest of the Matilda’s would be arriving for their training camp.

Maya had been one of your first patients when you got back. She had been in for many surgeries before you had met her, and have been there for plenty after. She was a tough kid, that besides all of the medical treatment remained positive. 

“Alright,” You continued, ignoring the fact that she lied about her well-being. She was here for another surgery because her bowels were acting up again. Sadly no one had been able to find a permanent solution for her illness yet, and repeated surgeries were only short term solutions. “Doctor Taylor, can you present, please?” 

He stepped up with Maya’s chart, and started presenting her case. “Thank you Doctor Taylor.” You said after he perfectly shared all the necessary information. To teach the interns, you asked them a couple questions about the surgery, and made sure that they answered in a kid friendly way to make Maya feel at ease.

“Do you have any more questions for us, Maya?” You turned to the young girl on the bed. “Will you be there when I wake up?” Her eyes filled with hope, “Of course, I always am.” And you had. After every surgery you had been with her in the recovery room, always making sure to give your patients that extra bit of comfort that they needed. 

While your interns walk out of the room, you take a moment to speak to Maya’s parents. While they were used to the surgeries by now, every parent was nervous about their child getting operated on. Surgery on the bowels was always risky.

“How long do you think this fix will last?” You felt for Maya and the family and were gutted for them that there still wasn't a permanent fix. “Our best hope is another few months.” They knew that was the answer they were going to get, yet they still hoped that this time would be different. 

When you walked back into the hall you overheard Taylor brag about being the best in their class, and not needing the hours on peds because he won’t be choosing that specialty anyways. You listen for a bit longer and cannot believe the words you hear coming out of his mouth.

“Why do we keep going with these hopeless cases? It’s not like she’s ever going to get better. We’re just delaying the inevitable.” His words hit you like a punch in the gut, but you quickly gather yourself and step forwards. “Doctor Taylor,” The sharpness of your voice quickly grabbed the attention from everyone around you. “With me, now. All of you.”

You didn’t say a word until you had all of them in an empty hospital room. “These aren’t just cases, they are human lives; children’s lives. You are talking about Maya as if she’s some sort of lost cause, but she’s not. We are giving these kids the best care possible. We are keeping them alive, for when there is a permanent cure.”

Taylor opens his mouth to respond, but you aren't done yet. “If you cannot handle treating every patient with respect, you have no business being in this field. You are off this case, go find the Chief and see if she is willing to put you on a different case today.” He walks off with the whisper of a “Sorry.”

“As for the rest of you, I want to make it very clear that this is not how we talk about patients, especially not on the floor where everyone can hear you. If one of your peers does this, I want you to take the responsibility to tell them off. Do you understand?”

They all nod in understanding. “Good, now that we have that out of the way. Anderson, please get all the tests to the lab and page me when you’ve got the results. The rest of you with me to continue our rounds.

It was your job to make these interns good doctors. You hated having to kick them off cases, but if they treated patients like this, there had to be consequences.

The rest of the rounds went smoothly, and just as you got done with the last patient, Anderson paged you that the results were ready.

“How are we looking, Anderson?” He handed you the tablet, “Looks good. All her test results come back to the right levels.” You look over the results yourself to verify and agree with his conclusion. “Alright, prep Maya, and let me know when she's ready to go to the OR.”

“I'm here!” You announce before bending down and putting your hands on your knees, pretending to be out of breath. “Did I make it? Am I still on time?” 

Maya's giggles filled the room, the reason you loved to joke around like this. Kids deserve to feel comfortable and at ease in a place that is filled with unknowns. 

“We can't start without you, silly.” The girl laughs. “Oh, you're right, silly me!” You wipe the non-existent sweat off your forehead. “Alright Champ, are you ready?” She nodded and reached out her hand for you to hold, like you had done for the last couple of surgeries. 

You hold her hand until you arrive in the OR. “Alright Champ, hop on over.” The girl expertly switched onto the surgical bed. “What flavour popsicle will it be this time?” She puts her hand to her chin, “Strawberry!” You had expected no other flavour, as it was her favourite. You grab your phone and start typing. “Alright, I've let the chef know your order. It will be served when you're ready.”

Once Maya was under anaesthesia, you left the room to scrub. You learned that kids often found comfort in seeing someone they knew, you, for as long as possible. When you got back into the OR you were gowned and gloved, before you went to work.

The three interns still on the case were allowed to observe in the OR. You remembered what residency was like for you, and wanted to make sure that they got as many opportunities as possible in an OR, before they got their first operation.

Everything went smoothly, until it didn’t. 

Seemingly out of nowhere her lower abdomen filled with blood. “I need suction.” You instructed and were instantly handed the device. It was pooling in her abdomen fast that you could clear it. You handed the suction device to Doctor Jackson, who was on the other side of the table. “Lap pads, please, and keep them coming.”

Lap pad after lap pad was thrown in the little bin beside you, but the blood didn’t seem to lessen. “Doctor Smith, what’s her pressure?” You needed one of the interns to read the board, since you were both too occupied with trying to stop the bleeding. “BP is 60 over 40 and falling.” 

You cursed under your breath, while desperately trying to find the source of the bleeding. “Clamp.” The tool was in your hand mere seconds later. You tried to clamp off the vessel, but despite your best efforts, the bleeding didn’t slow down.

“She’s crashing.” The anesthesiologist warned. “Not on my watch. Doctor Anderson, take over suction. We’re going to transfuse.” Doctor Jackson handed over the suction, and got ready to set up a transfusion.

“BP is 50 over 30.” Doctor Smith announced. “Hang in there Maya.” You willed her to fight. But the blood was still not slowing down and her pressure was dropping rapidly. 

“We’re losing her.” The anesthesiologist said with worry in his voice. “We are not giving up. Get the crash card ready.” You took a deep breath and got ready to start CPR. 

The room full of doctors watched in silence as you continued compressions on the tiny body that laid on the table. “Come on, Maya.” Your voice barely above a whisper.

You don’t know how long you had been going, but your arms were starting to get tired. Doctor Jackson put his hand on your shoulder, “It’s time.” You shook your head, “No, she’s just a kid.”

His hand stayed on your shoulder, “You did everything you could. It’s time to let her go.” You slowly stopped compressions and looked down at her still body. Tears blurred your vision as you realised she was gone. 

“Time of death,” You started but weren’t allowed to finish the sentence. “11:16” Doctor Smith filled in. You stepped back and ripped your bloodstained gown and gloves off, and threw them onto the ground in frustration. 

You took a moment to gather yourself. You had to inform her family, and you needed to be strong for them. 

The moment you walked into the waiting room, Maya’s parents stood up. “No.” Maya’s mom said as all hope left her face. “No, my baby.” She could tell from your expression that the news wasn’t good, like it had been previous times. “I’m so sorry,” your voice broke. “We did everything we could, but Maya didn’t make it.”

You stood by as they fell into each other’s arms with tears streaming down their faces. They knew every surgery was a risk, but losing their little girl was something no parent was prepared for. “What happened?” Her dad asks.

“She lost too much blood. I- we tried everything to stop it, but we weren’t able to.” He nodded, still in disbelief. “Alright, thank you.” He got out before letting out another sob. Your heart broke even further. “If you want, you can see her for a bit. Would you like me to take you to her?” 

You walked them to the room and let them have a private moment with their daughter. Once you stepped outside, you got a page and headed to reception where you were asked for assistance. 

In a blur you walked down the hall and rode down in the elevator. It wasn’t until you laid your eyes on Caitlin that your vision got a bit more clear. You make your way over to her, and fall into her arms without saying another word. With her comforting arms around you, you couldn’t hold back any longer. The tears started streaming down your face, and Caitlin had to hold you tight, to keep you up right. 

“Oh, my love, what’s wrong?” She shared a worried look with her best friends Mackenzie and Alanna, who you hadn’t even realised were there too. “Can we go somewhere more private?” She asked softly. You nodded and took her hand. That’s when you realised the other girls. “Oh hi, I’m sorry. You guys can come too.” 

You walked the trio into your office and pulled Caitlin down onto the couch, to fall into her hold again. “I lost her, Cait. I lost Maya, she didn’t make it.” The room went silent. Caitlin held you while you sobbed. 

After a while you had no more tears left. “I’m sorry, you guys were here for a fun time, and now you’re stuck with me being emotional.” Alanna is quick to shake her head, “Don’t apologise, we’re all here for you.” Mackenzie agreed, “Yeah, if there is anything we can do for you, please let us know.” 

“You should drink some water, love.” Caitlin suggested and pointed out the water pitcher to Alanna. You did as you were told, and sipped on the water that Alanna handed you. 

“Macca, could you do something for me?” She nodded instantly, “Of course, anything.” You had thought back of the last conversation you had with Maya. “Could you go down to the cafeteria and get some strawberry popsicles?” The request seemed odd to her, but she asked no questions.

Not long after she got back with four strawberry popsicles. “They were her favourite, we were going to have some when we were in the recovery room.” You put your head back on Caitlin’s shoulder. “This one’s for you Maya.”

You sit with the girls for a while longer. Maya had been your only surgery for the day, as you had taken the rest of the day off to be with Caitlin. When you feel strong enough to get up, you ask them to meet you down in the lobby, since you wanted to check on Maya’s parents before you left.

Her parents just walked out of Maya’s room when you walked onto the floor. You weren’t sure what to say except sorry, which you did again. What happened next surprised you. Her mom hugged you. “Thank you for giving us more time with our girl than we ever thought we’d have.” Every surgery had given her a couple of months longer to live, yet you had hoped you’d be able to keep her alive until a permanent solution was found, they made you realise that keeping her alive this long was a miracle already. 

Maya’s dad gave you a firm handshake. “While now is a dark moment for us all, we want you to know that we know you have given your best to our Maya, and for that we will forever be grateful.”

“Maya was an incredible young girl. While the circumstances of us meeting were never possible, I am honoured that I was allowed to know her. If there is ever anything I can do for you and your family, please don’t be afraid to reach out.”

You made your way downstairs again, where Caitlin met you at the bottom of the stairs. Her arm wrapped around your shoulder, as she walked you out of the hospital. “I sent the girls to get us some food, they’ll meet us at home.” 

You didn’t care for the food, but you were glad to be surrounded by your loved ones. All plans you previously had for the day were wiped off without having to communicate your needs. The couch is where you spend the rest of the day. A movie was playing on the tv, but you had fallen asleep in Caitlin’s comforting arms a long time ago.

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[fanfictionismyaddiction]

hii I don’t know if you are doing requests but if you are could you please do one with toto Wolff x wife reader where she’s just given birth and her in-laws make fun of her or give her mean comments and she gets all upset but doesn’t tell toto to keep the family peace but he finds out and gets a tad upset at her for hiding it but he rips his family a new one please please!!

Unconditional Support

Word Count: 999

Pairing: Toto Wolff x wife!reader

Summary: Y/n shares her vulnerability after giving birth, revealing the hurtful comments from Toto's family that make her question her worth, prompting Toto to confront them with fierce protectiveness

I don't speak Polish so if something isn't right pleas let me know so i can change it.

Also my requests are still open

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Toto stood at the window, the hospital room filled with a serene quiet. You rocked the baby gently in your arms, trying to focus on the peaceful moment, but your mind kept drifting back to the things his family had said. Every comment felt like a dagger, cutting deeper than you’d let yourself admit. You’d spent so much time second-guessing your own reactions, wondering if you were being too sensitive—just like your ex-friends and ex-boyfriend had always claimed.

But this felt different. You had just given birth. You were vulnerable, exposed, and instead of support, all you got was veiled judgment.

Toto turned around, sensing your unease. He crossed the room in a few strides, sitting beside you on the bed, his hand resting on your knee. "What’s wrong?" he asked softly, his dark eyes filled with concern. "You’re not yourself."

You tried to smile, to push it down, but the weight of it all was pressing on you too hard. "I don’t know," you whispered. "I don’t want to make it a big deal. Maybe I’m overthinking things. Maybe I’m just being sensitive."

Toto frowned, his grip on your knee tightening slightly. "Sensitive about what?"

You hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. But the memory of Eva’s voice, sharp and critical, wouldn’t leave your mind.

"Your mom…" you started slowly, "she said, *‘Ach, du siehst müde aus’* (Oh, you look tired), and I know I *am* tired, but the way she said it—it wasn’t just concern. It was like I was already failing somehow. Like I should be doing more, looking better. I’ve just had a baby, and instead of asking how I feel, she’s telling me I look bad."

Toto’s jaw clenched, but you continued, the words pouring out now.

"And then Katharina, she didn’t even say congratulations before she looked me up and down and said, *‘You’ll want to lose the baby weight quickly, right? There’s a Pilates instructor in Vienna…’* I know I’ve gained weight—of course I have, I just carried a child—but she made me feel like it’s a race to get rid of it. Like my worth is tied to how fast I look ‘normal’ again."

Your voice wavered, but you pushed on. "And Margit—she took the baby right out of my hands and said, *‘Das ist nicht richtig. Soll ich es dir zeigen?’* (That’s not right. Should I show you?) I was trying my best, and she acted like I didn’t even know how to hold my own baby. I already feel like I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, and she just made me feel… useless."

Toto stood up, his face dark with anger. He started pacing, his fists clenching and unclenching. "Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?" he demanded, his voice sharp. "Why did you let them say those things to you?"

"I didn’t want to cause problems," you said quietly, your gaze dropping to the floor. "I thought… maybe I was just seeing it wrong, like I always do. Maybe I was interpreting everything too negatively again. But the more I think about it, the more I realize… it wasn’t okay. They made me feel small. Like I wasn’t good enough."

Toto stopped pacing, his expression hardening. "You were right. They were out of line. I’m not letting this slide."

Before you could stop him, he grabbed his phone, his fingers flying over the screen as he found his mother’s number.

"Toto, wait," you pleaded, "don’t make this worse—"

But his face was set, determined. He brought the phone to his ear, speaking in rapid Polish as soon as his mother picked up. "Mamo, musimy porozmawiać." (Mom, we need to talk.)

You could hear the faint sound of his mother’s voice on the other end, but Toto’s expression didn’t soften.

"Nie, nie później. Teraz." (No, not later. Now.)

He glanced at you, his eyes blazing with a protective fury. "Dlaczego mówili takie rzeczy do Y/n?" (Why did they say those things to Y/n?) His voice was cold, demanding answers.

You watched, feeling torn between relief and anxiety as Toto continued to tear into his mother over the phone. You couldn’t understand everything, but the tone was unmistakable—he was furious, and he wasn’t going to let this slide. He paced back and forth, his voice low and dangerous as he spoke in quick bursts of Polish, likely recounting every hurtful comment you had shared with him.

After a few moments, his voice softened slightly, but his anger was still clear. "Nie obchodzi mnie, czy miały dobre intencje. Nie pozwolę, żeby tak traktowali moją żonę." (I don’t care if they meant well. I won’t let them treat my wife like that.)

He paused, listening to his mother’s response, before he sighed, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration. "To musi się skończyć. Teraz." (This has to stop. Now.)

He hung up the phone, his face still tense, and turned back to you. "I’ve told them," he said, his voice softer now but still firm. "They won’t be speaking to you like that again."

You looked down, guilt flooding through you. "I didn’t mean for this to turn into a big thing…"

Toto knelt beside the bed, taking your hand in his. "It’s not your fault. They were out of line, and you deserve better. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner."

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. "I just didn’t want to cause problems. I was so scared I was overreacting."

Toto cupped your face gently, his thumb wiping away a tear that slipped down your cheek. "You’re not overreacting. You’re not being too sensitive. You’re my wife, the mother of our child, and no one gets to make you feel less than the incredible woman you are. Not even my family."

You let out a shaky breath, finally feeling the weight of their comments lift just a little. You had doubted yourself, but Toto was making sure you’d never have to doubt him.

[i-love-ptv]

You Know Me..𐙚⭑

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Based on the prompt: “no, i’m not going to give you a bite because i know you’re not going to like it. then you’re going to ask me how the hell i like it, and i don’t want to listen to that right now.”

Wc: 915

No warnings! Just fluff tbh! :]

An: This is a random blurb I made today at 6am lololol

buttttt NEW CHARACTER UNLOCKED!!! It’s fall, and i’m missing stranger things rn 😣

ALSO!! I don’t know who made the prompt, since I got it from Pinterest, but if y’all know, tell me!!

Not proofread, i’m tired

feedback is ALWAYS appreciated mls <333

You truly think that you’re being discreet. Taking subtle glances at your boyfriend, and more specifically, what he’s eating.

Steve’s mom has this special tuna casserole recipe, and she made it on the off-chance she’s actually home.

Just looking at it makes your stomach turn a bit, it takes you back to the dinner you had at Steve’s house when he first introduced you to his parents.

You can’t remember what his mother made, but what you do remember is how after Steve dropped you off at your house with a kiss, you were in and out of the bathroom all night.

You blame it on the fact that you may have a sensitive stomach, it’s not uncommon!

But, a part of you felt bad, she put her time and effort into making a meal for you. She doesn’t even really do that for Steve himself.

So you couldn’t just reject it, besides, your mother always told you to ‘try everything first!’.

So now, that’s exactly what you were going to do.

Steve had only come back to your shared home with one plate, so you had to think strategically.

Maybe you could distract him, tell him something’s wrong with the bathroom sink. Yeah! That’ll work!

“No, I’m not going to give you a bite because I know you’re not going to like it. Then you’re going to ask me how the hell I like it, and I don’t want to listen to that right now.” Steve’s sentence catches you off guard.

You whip your head towards him, staring at him like a deer in headlights.

“..What do’ya mean, honey?”

“No, don’t give me that look. Baby, I know you, and I know you aren’t the biggest fan of my mom’s cooking. I’m not either.”

You jump up at this, nearly falling off the couch, which makes Steve grab your waist with his free hand. He tries to get you to sit back down, rather than kneel on the couch.

“What? I love your mom’s food!” You practically yelled, your voice picking up in pitch.

Steve gives you a look, in both disbelief and amusement.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to lie to me. D’you remember the 4th of July?”

You cringe at the memory of that day.

Steve’s family, meaning his parents, two aunts, an uncle, his grand-parents, and like four cousins - two of which, were kids - had came together for the 4th of July.

Steve, of course, invited you. He figured it would be better for him to bring you so you could meet his family, and so that he didn’t have to be alone.

The company was great, you loved talking and getting to know everyone, especially his grandmother.

But when it was time to eat, you were a bit….Hesitant, to say the least.

Steve’s dad worked the grill, and to be honest, you didn’t think it was going to be all that good, but it was!

But your dinner was spoiled by Steve’s mom’s watery macaroni and cheese, her oddly sweet potato salad, and her rock-hard rolls of bread.

But you refused to cause a scene, so you shoved all your thoughts down, and ate.

…Which resulted in you barking at Steve, telling him to drive home faster so you could use the bathroom.

You shiver at the thought of how you spent the rest of the night, in and out of the bathroom.

“Yeah, but, I think it was cause I ate too much!” You stammer, before continuing. “I’m all good now, though! Let me try some!”

You try to reach over to the plate, which is being tilted away from you by Steve’s right hand.

Your hands are resting on the brunette’s shoulders, while your body leans in the direction of the food.

“Baby, please. You don’t have to eat my mom’s cooking, I know it’s not good. Please save us both the trouble.” Steve sighs, you know he’s not mad at you.

He’s actually anything but.

He admires how you’re pushing down your feelings, only to uplift his and his mother’s. But he doesn’t want you to think that you’re required to do so.

After another 5-ish minutes of you blabbering on about how you ‘want to try her hard work’ and Steve arguing back, you slouch back onto the couch with a huff.

“I know y’wanna be nice, baby. But you don’t have to.” Steve softy coos, while rubbing your stomach.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to Steve.”

Steve hums at you, and moves your legs from his lap as he stands up.

You track his body, as he walks into the kitchen, scrapes his plate, then sits it in the sink.

Steve goes back to the couch, picks you up, and then lays you on top of him once he’s comfortable laying down. He puts a blanket onto the two of you, and then rubs your back.

Steve leaves a firm, but sweet kiss on your forehead. “My sweet girl, always so nice to everyone, huh?”

You giggle softly, your eyes growing heavy at the feeling of him drawing shapes on your back.

The last thing you remember is him briefly reaching over you, and using the tv remote to turn down the volume.

Steve doesn’t know how he got so lucky with you, but he’ll spend the rest of his life thanking any, and every god for you.

And you’ll never be able to lie to him.

Cause he knows you.

────♡────

[strawbslvr]

How shifting finds us at the right time! + Me before and after shifting.

TW!!!! Mention of su!c!de, family issues, depression, fucked up mental health! And lots of yapping!

@a-fish-learningtowalk

Let’s go back all the way to 2022. At the start of the year I found out about subliminals, so basically I was scrolling through YouTube and there was this video that popped up every time I refreshed my home page. It was something like “Glow up in a day” ,the thumbnail was a pretty girl and the video was like 1 minute and something long so I was like “why are they capping, glow up in a day and the literal video is 1 minute long??! What a sick joke” but out of curiosity I clicked it and then I was welcomed with MUSIC and then I was like “hah! I knew they were capping, this is just music!” But I went to the comment section and there were literally people saying

“Omg this is a masterpiece! My mom came to my room and told me how pretty I look”

Then someone was also like “this literally gave me results in a week.

Edit: A GIRL TOLD ME IN SCHOOL HOW PRETTY I LOOK!!!”

Those were the comments that I still remember cause they confused me the most. After that I was just like ???tf? But when I went to the description I saw a term “sub” few times and then there was used the term “subliminal” so I just assumed that the term sub was just short for subliminal.

I went and searched what the fuck did I just see aka I just searched what is subliminal. There was this woman in a video that explained it and at first i obviously was like “what the fuck? This is so cool and too good to be true” cause babe wdym I can listen to an audio that can change my appearance and all of that stuff.

Well that’s how I just viewed it to be which isn’t exactly the case.

I listened to some subs for the rest of the night but I was just so disappointed when I woke up the next day and saw no results and just immediately guessed that this was just plain cap. And after that I stopped listening to subliminal but the craziest part was like I totally forgot they existed like after that. (I will tell more later!)

Summer 2022

At this time I got into my k-pop phase I was constantly daydreaming of my group and how I wanted it to be, literally imagining scenarios throughout the day and I literally wrote in Pinterest “K-pop idol scenarios”💀 I was deadass.

Then in one scroll I found a bunch of scenarios from TikTok, (they were just screenshotted and put into Pinterest.) it was like “scenarios for your K-pop Dr” at first I was like tf is a Dr? But I just decided to ignore it and move on and just read the scenarios cause they were good but that Dr term continued to pop in every picture I saw and then I truly got curious. To which resulted in me searching what is a Dr? Google said it’s a short for desired reality, and I just assumed sum stupid shit.

Anyways 2022 came to an end. And I TOTALLY forgot about subliminals and K-pop idol scenarios and tf is a Dr. like I’m not joking I totally forgot those existed.

2023 start.

The year I turned 18, yippeee!! So the start of the year was somewhat ok, few months later I started getting problems with my parents. Arguments with my parents, especially dad increased like A LOT. My parents started to get mad at some stupid stuff, their temper was just like shit. School started pressuring and at that period I had A LOT of exams (I still do but 👀) I didn’t have time for myself and I also got sick a lot. And few months passed in this environment and at some point I just admitted that I feel anxious, stressed, suffocated and depressed. Then I got told that my aunt is suffering from this sickness and she needs to do surgery but they had financial issues and the surgery got postponed a lot due to the money missing and that didn’t help my aunt’s health at all. and bro feeling shitty isn’t a surprise at this point. At some stage I decided if this is the life I’m going to live, I don’t want to live at all. I was very su!c!dal, and I attempted like two times but luckily didn’t do it.

2023 summer

One subliminal popped into my YouTube page again, it was something like “goddess like beauty, confidence and a better self concept” thing I’m not sure and then I was like “oh right! These things exist!” And I just listened to it for fun and surprisingly I felt better in few days. And those were few of the best days in the last 6 months of my life. I started actively listening to subliminals and actively affirming. I’m talking about every morning and every night before I go to sleep at least for 30 minutes. And then dududuudud

I found a subliminal about reality shifting and then I again was like “wait? This is that reality traveling thing, how can I forget this?” And I actually asked myself why didn’t I try it before? The summer my journey was honestly mostly jokes and fun, didn’t take it seriously and just did it for the excitement it gave me. But about 2023 fall I actively started scripting and took the journey a bit more seriously than before.

2024 fall. Now.

I still got a lot to improve and a mindset to work on. But I’m just happy of where I am now. I found a reason to live for and like a dark tunnel where at the end you find the light. Shifting brought me hope and genuine peace knowing something like this exists. My aunt did the surgery and she is healing little by little but at least she can practice her normal day life,she still got some checks here and there but nothing compared to what she was in before. I seriously stopped listening to anti shifter since they are just trying to demotivate y’all and me too. If I haven’t found out about shifting I don’t think I would still be here. Shifting seriously finds us at the time we need it the most!

[strnilolover]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .˚ Daddy’s Home ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .˚

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♫ Hey Daddy (Daddy’s Home) • Usher

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♡ Dad/Dilf!Chris x Mom!Reader

♡ Warnings : smut, unprotected pnv (be careful y’all), hair pulling, pet names (daddy, baby, ma, babe, whore), breeding, degrading, praising, slight spanking, dirty talk?, almost getting caught, aftercare, fluff, I think that’s all?

♡ Wc : tbc

♡ A/N : we all love Dad/Dilf!Matt but like what about Dad/Dilf!Chris? Both men can give me their babies and I would be happy for the rest of my life. Sorry if this is absolute shittt <3

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Chris was coming home today. Having spent the last few weeks in Boston with his brothers to visit family, leaving you with your five year old daughter Amelia.

You were excited to say the least, and so was the hyper ball of energy who ran around outback with her toys. Having to call Chris every night or every other night to talk was just pure torture, for both you and your daughter. You could tell she missed her daddy dearly, having not really spent so much time away from him.

You smiled as you watched her from the chair you sat on, on the patio. Soaking in the sun as she played on the playground Chris had built for her. “Be careful sweetie!” You called out, watching her small body roughly run across the playground, growing concerned about her hurting herself.

“Okie mommy!” She cheerfully said back, slowing her pace a little as he slid down the slide, repeating the actions. You just shook your head, your heart swelling as you watched how carefree she was.

Just then, you heard a car pull into the drive way, your head snapping toward the fence as you see a figure get out of the car. You smiled widely, knowing exactly who it was. “Amelia, baby. Come here!” You said excitedly, your daughter running to you quickly.

Grabbing her hand you lead her inside, closing the back door behind you as you stood there, now facing the garage door. Your nerves were set on fire, the butterflies growing increasingly in your stomach. Even after all this time with Chris, he never failed to make you nervous.

The door leading into the house opened quickly, Chris walking in with his bags, a huge smile plastered on his face as he spotted his two favorite girls. “Daddy!” Amelia squealed, letting go of your hand to run towards Chris. His arms opening invitingly as he picked her up, spinning her around.

“There’s my favorite girl! How’s my lil bug doin’?” He mumbled as he pressed a kiss to her temple, hugging her tightly. You stood there, watching the way he held her against him, and you smiled as you crossed your arms.

His eyes flicked up, meeting yours as he continued to hold Amelia. You smiled giddily, blush rising to your cheeks as you walked over to them. He smiled in return, putting your daughter down slowly as he bent back up, wrapping his arms around you.

“And here’s my other favorite girl.” he whispered, head lowering to press a kiss to your lips which you happily reciprocated. You melted, arms coming to wrap around his neck as he pulled you closer to him. One you pulled away, you sighed contently, resting your forehead against his. “How’re you doin’ ma?” He asked, his breath tickling your face.

You hummed, “I’m doing better now that you’re home. Missed you so much baby.” You whispered, arms tightening around him more. He returned the act, holding you tighter. “I missed you too.”

“Bleh, that’s gross!” You heard your daughter say from beside you guys, a laugh bubbling out of yours and Chris’ throats. You pulled away, Chris turning his attention to your daughter.

“Mommy and daddy just love each other very much, lil bug.” He said to her. “And I love you even more!” He says as he ran towards her. She squealed, turning and running in the opposite direction as he chased her.

You shook your head, chuckling to yourself as you watched Chris chase her. Picking up his bags he left, you carried them to your bedroom, setting them near the closet for him to deal with later.

-

Dinner was all made, Amelia’s bath was all done and now Chris was tucking her into bed for the night. You could hear the soft giggles of her voice echo down the hall as Chris read her a story and was being his goofy self.

You laid there, night shorts and tank top on your body as the warm covers engulfed you. You could hear Chris close your daughter’s door softly, his feet padding down the hallway coming closer to your room.

The door creaked open softly, his large frame walking through the door way in nothing but his black sweatpants, shirt nowhere to be seen. You’d be lying if you said the sight didn’t turn you on, because it did. You were so touch starved for your husband, those few weeks making it feel like years since you last saw him.

He closed the door behind him, locking it swiftly before he made his way to the bed. Climbing in, he scooted closer to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling your back flush against his chest.

“I missed you so much ma.” He whispered, his breath hot against your ear as you felt his nose trace the side of your face. You’d shuttered, a smile spreading across your lips. “I missed you so much too — missed having you here with me.” You say, humming softly as his mouth found your neck, peppering it with small kisses.

“Yeah?” He hummed, teeth starting to nip at your skin softly. “Missed having you pressed against me — it was torture not being able to touch you for so long.” He groaned out, his hips pushing forward against your ass. You gasped, your own hips voluntarily pushing back into his.

“Show me how much you missed me.” You whispered. After those words left your mouth, he turned you over, his body hovering over yours as he dipped down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

You moaned against his mouth, hands reaching up to tangle in his hair as your thighs squeezed together, searching for more friction as you felt your panties grow damp. He nipped your bottom lip, causing a gasp to escape as he slid his tongue in, exploring your mouth as you easily submitted to his movements.

As he continued his assault on your mouth, his hands roamed down, gripping the edge of your tank top and tugging it up your body. Disconnecting your lips briefly so he could pull the fabric over your head, tossing it somewhere in the room as his lips came back down, trailing kisses down your neck and collarbone this time.

Chris kissed between your breasts, making his way to your right one and taking the hardened nub between his lips. He sucked harshly as his hand came to twist your left bud between his fingertips. You moaned, back arching into his touch as pleasure pricked your skin.

He pulled away slightly, hooded eyes looking up into yours. “You need to be quiet ma, can’t have everyone knowing what we’re doin’ hm?” He mumbled as he directed his mouth to your left bud now, lips wrapping around it as his hand tweaked your right one. You nodded desperately in understanding, panting harshly at his ministrations.

He pulled away, lips now kissing down your stomach to the waistband of your shorts as he looked back up at you. Smirking he grabbed them, starting to tug them down. “Lift your hips baby.” He said, and you obliged. Lifting your hips for him to slide your shorts and panties off in one swift motion.

Once your clothing were discarded he leaned down, pressing a few soft kisses to your inner thighs before pulling away, making you whine impatiently. “Shh ma — so impatient.” He spoke out, his frame crawling off the bed momentarily as he shuffled his sweatpants and boxers down his legs. Once his clothes were fully discarded, he climbed back on top of you, smirking as he grabbed your shoulder and flipped you over.

He grabbed your hips, pulling them high in the air as a hand pushed on your lower back, causing you to arch impossibly. He groaned at the sight in front of him, “god you’re so beautiful baby.” He said breathlessly, a hand coming down to swipe through your wet folds, eliciting a moan from you, your hips pushing into his hand.

“Ah — such a desperate little whore. Did you miss my cock baby, hm?” He asked, his hand pulling away, grip tightening on your waist. “S-so much, missed your cock so much.” You whined out. He just chuckled, his hand gripping his cock and stroking a few times before he lined up to your entrance.

Your hips swayed slightly, feeling his tip push against your entrance. His hips snapped forward without warning, a loud moan reverberating through your chest, eyes rolling back. Chris’ hand grabbed your hair, tugging it out of the pillow you had subconsciously pushed your face in. He tugged your head up, his other hand coming forward to shove two of his fingers into your mouth.

“I said to be quiet yeah? Such a fucking whore.” He gritted through his teeth as his hips continued to snap relentlessly into your own. “M’sorry daddy!” You whined out, the words muffled around his fingers. Your hands gripping the sheets below you.

“Mhm I bet you are. I bet you’re loving this hm?” He said, angling his hips to push deeper into you. “Missed my cock so much that you just have to let everyone know.” He groaned as he felt you clench around him.

You just whined, his hand letting go of your hair and fingers leaving your mouth. Causing your body to drop against the mattress, face burying back into the pillow. His hands found purchase on your hips again, slamming into you roughly. You suddenly felt a sting on your ass, Chris’ hand coming down to land a hard smack against it. You whimpered, walls clenching around him again.

“Ah — fuck! B-baby.” You moaned, your hips now pushing back to meet his thrusts. “Doin’ so good ma, takin’ me so well.” He whispered, landing another smack onto your reddening ass, causing you to whine once more.

Incoherent babbles left your lips as Chris’ hips picked up the pace, angling just right to hit that spot deep inside you that had your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. Your walls clenched around him once more, his body leaning forward to plaster his chest against your back.

“You gettin’ close baby? Gonna cum and make a mess on my dick. Go head’ make a mess f’me.” He moaned, teeth nipping your shoulder as you nodded, body shaking.

You felt your insides grow tight, the knot in your stomach pulled until it finally snapped. Your body convulsed, coming around Chris’ dick as his hand came around to rub your swollen clit. He growled at the feeling, helping you through your high as high pitched moans left your lips, sounding like music to his ears.

He lifted his chest back up, gripping your hips tightly once more as he began to chase his own high. “m’gonna cum in this pussy, give you another baby yeah?” He growled as he plowed into you, and you nodded, your body tilting on the edge of overstimulation.

With a final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, groaning as he released thick ropes of his cum, painting your walls white. You moaned at the feeling, pushing your hips into him as you felt so full.

You guys stayed like that for a moment, regaining your composure until you felt him slowly begin to slip out of you. You hissed, already feeling empty now that he wasn’t inside you. Your body collapsed against the bed, the feeling of his cum and your juices dripping down your thighs.

Chris laid next to you, panting softly as he turned you toward him, pulling you into his sweaty chest. “You okay love? You with me?” He asked softly, pressing light kisses to your head. You hummed, burying your face into his chest.

“Baby?” He asked once more, and this time you lifted your head. Your hooded eyes looking into his own as you nodded. “M’okay, I’m with you. That was — amazing.” You said breathlessly, your own breath coming out in soft pants. He smiled down at you, pecking your lips. “Wasn’t too rough?” He asked and you just shook your head.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, you hear a knock on your bedroom door. Your body immediately shooting up, eyes wide darting to Chris’. You scrambled for the blanket, covering your body as Chris slipped out of bed, grabbing his clothes and slipping them back on as he made his way to the door.

You watched as he opened it, your room too dark for anyone to notice you may have been awake. “Daddy?” Your daughter whispered out, a hint of sadness layered in her voice.

“Hey bug, what’s wrong sweetie?” Chris asked, kneeling down in front of her and pulling her into a hug. “M-mommy sounded hurt… is she okay?” She sniffled softly, and your faced heated. Chris nodded his head, scooping Amelia up into his arms and carried her down the hall. You could hear his faint voice.

“Mommy is okay bug, she was just having a nightmare. She’s okay, I promise.” He whispered. “Pinky promise?” Amelia’s muffled voice asked. Chris’ own voice replying in return, “pinky promise.”

After ten minutes or so, Chris came back. Closing the door once more behind him as he climbed into bed next to your naked body. He smirked as he pulled you to him, “you and that mouth sure know how to make someone worry.” He chuckled mockingly.

You smacked his arm lightly, “it was your fault!” You whisper-shouted to him, but laughed in return. “Mhm, you loved it.” He retaliated, pressing a kiss to your lips. And he was right, you did love it. But, now your child might just be scarred for the rest of her life.

You rolled your eyes playfully, “you know I did, now help me clean up please?” You asked, and he nodded, slipping away into the bathroom connected to your room. Hearing the water run then shut off, he came back out with a warm rag.

He walks back over to you, slowly turning you over as he takes the rag to your inner thighs, wiping softly. He made his way up your thighs, finally reaching your core as he wiped gently there too. You hissed softly at the feeling, but were grateful for his help.

Once he was done, he threw the rag into the laundry basket, grabbing a shirt of his on the way back to you once more. He helped you sit up, slipping his shirt over your head and then climbing back into bed with you. You snuggled into his chest, bodies tangled with one another as you both drifted peacefully to sleep.

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© Strnilolover

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♡ A/N : this is absolute shit, sorry y’all. I’ll add the word count later…I need to get better at my smut cause I feel like this was rushed LOL.

[adragonprinceswhore]

Tell Me You Missed Me

Tom Bennett x Reader

Summary: Word around the street is that you went on a date with someone else? Tom Bennet, fresh of the navy vessel, is not happy to hear that.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, dirty talk, degradation, fingering, P in V, orgasm denial, excessive teasing

Word Count: 3000

A/N: From my old blog, a request by @humanpurposes! ILY Gee 🫶

———

The smooth tones of Duke Ellington echo through the narrow alley leading to your house. 

Tom knows what that means.

You’re alone.

Your parents despise jazz, leaving you no choice but to play the two records you’d worked all summer to afford in solitude. 

He grins to himself, stopping right by the front door to run two hands over his sailor suit, smoothing out any possible wrinkles. 

“Fuck, didn’t bring any flowers or nothin’”, Tom curses himself inwardly as he brings one hand up to knock on the crummy door of your family home. Impatient as always, he doesn’t wait for you to answer before he pushes the door open with one hand. 

“Oi, could you keep it down, miss?”, he half-shouts as he enters your house, grinning widely as his eyes immediately find you, seated at the dining table only a few paces from the entrance. 

Your eyes go wide as you take him in. 

He’s back. 

The cigarette that’s been dangling between your red-painted lips falls down to the table as your mouth opens in surprise. 

He’s alive. 

“Tom”, you breathe out, voice no louder than a whisper. 

When he left to join the Navy, you were sure that he’d never come back. Yet here he is, in your house, smiling just as brightly as before he left. The sparkle in his eye is there too. 

Just like you remember him. 

He steps forward, kicking the door closed behind him before taking two long strides towards you. He reaches down to pick up the still glowing cigarette on the table, taking a deep drag. 

“Take it you didn’t miss me then?”, he teases as he looks down at you, his broad-shouldered frame towering over your seat. 

“I didn’t think you’d come back”, you reply honestly, eyes still wide with disbelief as you look up at him. 

It was easier to assume that any young lad being sent away would never come back. Then the inevitable heartache wouldn’t hurt as much. 

“That why you went dancing with Mike Jones?”, he asks. The glimmer of mischief in his eyes seems to disappear as they narrow in accusation. 

“How’d you know about that?”, you answer, unable to shake the surprise from his sudden visit. Still wearing his uniform and hair neatly combed to the side, you’d guess he came straight from shore. 

“Word goes ‘round, y’know”, Tom states with a shrug, an attempted display of indifference, eyes trailing from your dumbfounded expression down your body. You suddenly feel like the form fitting everyday dress you’d thrown on in a haste earlier today was far too revealing, making heat crawl up your chest, neck and onto your cheeks. 

“Well, I’m here now. Dance with me”, he requests, a large hand reaching for yours resting on the table. 

“Tom, I-“, you stutter as you pull your hands away from him. 

How long will he be back for? 

How has life been at sea?

Did he miss you? 

“H-, how long are you back for?”, you stand up as you ask, one of your hands coming up to briefly touch his cheek. 

To make sure it’s really him. 

That he’s real. 

His expression looks sterner, jaw tightening as he snatches the hand you touched his cheek with, pulling you closer to him. 

“Dance with me”, he repeats, this time as a demand. 

You let him lead you, the hand not holding yours settling comfortably on your waist as both of your bodies sway slightly to the fast tones coming from the gramophone. 

“Suddenly you’re a dancer?”, you inquire playfully as you look up at his face through your lashes. He isn’t really; his pace does not match the rhythm of the song in the slightest and he barely lifts his feet as he sways in place with you in his arms. 

“Apparently”, he answers with another shrug of his shoulders. Your eyes flicker down to take him in once more. You’ve never seen him this dapper before; uniform highlighting the broadness of his shoulders, blue collar matching his eyes, and not a hair out of place. 

“An awful one”, you continue to tease him as the hand you’ve placed on his shoulder squeezes him softly. 

He hums humourlessly at your jab, the hand placed on your waist slowly travelling down your side, squeezing your hip and stroking your thigh over the fabric of your dress. 

Just as you're about to grab his hand and tell him to behave, he moves it under your skirt in one swift, quick motion; letting his palm roam across the soft skin. 

“Tom!”, you yelp as you try to push him away, stepping back quickly so that his hand can’t slide up further. 

“You liked that stuff before”, he says indifferently, grip on your hand still tight so that you can’t back away further. “Or is it Mikey Jones that touches you like that now?”

His tone is much harsher than before; his attempts at remaining carefree failing as cracks start to appear in the nonchalant mask he’d put on. 

“Tom, I was lonely and didn’t think you’d come back.. He took me dancing once, nothing more”, you try to reassure him. 

There’s so much you want to know; to ask him. How’s life in the navy? Is he eating well? Can he sleep? Does he get seasick? Has he received your letters? 

But all Tom seems capable of is obsessing over the fact that you took pity on Mike Jones from down the street and let him take you out. 

It’s your turn to take command, stepping forward to rest both of your arms around his neck as you look up to meet his stern glare.  

“Did you get my letters?”, you attempt to change the subject, fingers playing with the short, sandy hairs at the base of his neck. 

He hums again, reluctant to properly answer you though he pulls you closer to hold you in his arms. 

“I thought about you all the time, Tommy”, you say before getting on your toes to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. 

He pulls you even closer, mouth meeting yours in a sudden, passionate kiss that almost takes your breath away. He presses his tongue between your lips, demanding entrance to deepen the kiss, practically bending you backwards as he devours you. 

The act is incredibly dizzying; it leaves you breathless, exhausted and in the need for more. 

This time, when his hand moves to squeeze the soft meat of your inner thigh, you don’t step back. Instead, you push your body closer to his; your soft curves pressing into his sturdy chest. 

His impatient fingers soon move inside the fabric of your underwear, stroking your folds experimentally before letting two fingers part them. 

“Already wet?”, he grins as the tip of his fingers finds your bundle of nerves, drawing quick circles. The calluses on his work-worn hands scratch slightly against your sensitive skin and the sting of pain somehow amplifies the pleasure he’s giving you. 

Tom remembers exactly which kind of touch you like; how to make you putty in his hands. His tall frame still looms over you as he speeds up the pace of his hand, eyes watching your reaction intently.  

Your legs tremble as pleasure fills your being, peak hurtling towards where you stand in Tom’s embrace. One strong arm around you, keeping you in place, as his fingers move in and out, palm repeatedly pushing at your pearl. If not for the hold he has on you, you’re sure you’d be on the floor by now, legs almost unable to stand by themselves. 

“This what you thought of?”, he asks, eyes narrowing when they meet yours, fingers continuously working you towards release. You're standing so close together that your noses touch, breathing in and exhaling each other's air. 

You moan in reply, holding onto his shoulders like they’re your only anchor in a sea of all-consuming pleasure. With the last bit of strength you have left, you tilt your head up to ask him for another kiss. To your surprise, he denies you by moving his head to the side, mischief once again dancing in his eyes. 

Just as you’re about to peak, Tom stills, hand inside your knickers but unmoving. You whine in protest, glassy eyes looking up at him pleadingly. 

“What do you want?”, he questions with a wink, clearly pleased at how incredibly fast he’d reduced you to a trembling mess. 

“Make me feel good Tommy”, you request breathlessly, sounding way more desperate than you’d like. His lips stretch out into a wide grin, revealing his dimples. 

“Don’t know what that means, love”, he retorts, amused voice matching the cheeky curve of his lips. 

His smug demeanour is entirely infuriating, knowing that he’s already got you wrapped around his finger. It was always like this with him; he’d offer you bliss but only on his conditions. 

“Please make me peak”, you mumble, humiliation making you feel even hotter. He knows how embarrassed you get from your sporadic trysts, preferring to revel in how good he makes you feel than to think about the true nature of your filthy encounters. Your lover’s different, however. 

Tom chuckles at your plea, lowering his face to place a wet kiss on your cheek. 

“Nah, you’re not gonna get off on my fingers”, he says contemplatively, pouting mockingly at your tearful expression. “I want to feel you squeeze my cock when you do that”, he concludes and you wince at his crude language. He was so crass sometimes, it sent anxious waves of embarrassment through your stomach. 

You wish he could be like the romantic lead in one of the American pictures screening in town, full of promises of eternal love while placing lingering kisses on his lover's hands. But your Tommy wasn’t. 

The ache between your legs makes you lose all composure, so when he leads you to the dinner table, seating you upon it, you don’t protest. 

He stands between your legs, the skirt of your dress bunched up around your waist as his hands move to drag your underwear down your legs. When you see him pocket them, you reach for his hand in a feeble attempt to take them back, but he just clicks his tongue as he swats your hand away. “These stay with me”, he grins as he pats the pocket of his trousers twice. 

He steps forward, standing so close to you your noses knock together, his lips ghosting over yours as his warm hands once again slide up your things. One of his fingers slips under the buckle of the garter belt you’re still wearing and playfully snaps the band against the meat of your inner thigh. 

Your lips part as you gasp at the sting and Tom takes the opportunity to kiss you, tongue coming out to lick your bottom lip slowly. His kisses before he left for the Navy were always hurried; quick and aggressive. But the way he kisses you tonight makes your knees weak; slow and sensual, one strong hand coming up to hold the back of your neck to secure you against him. It leaves you feeling dizzy; mind foggy from the want you feel for him. His lips travel from your mouth to your cheek, jaw, and neck, smearing saliva all over your heated skin. 

As his hands push your thighs further apart and he begins to undo his trousers, he whispers against your skin, “This the table you have tea at? With your mum and dad?” 

You feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment, so caught off guard you almost push him away. But you don’t.

“I don’t want to think about that now, Tom”, you reply sourly, though your voice sounds breathless, too filled with desire. 

“But I do. What would they say if they knew what their little girl was up to now? With the neighbourhood’s nuisance at that”, he says and you can feel him smile against the delicate skin of your neck. 

As you're trying to come up with a coherent reply, he starts to suck on the spot right below your ear and the retort at the tip of your tongue is replaced by the loud moan you let out. 

You feel him take a step backward, though his face stays hidden against your neck. You angle your hips slightly so that he can enter you easier, all you want is for him to finish what he started with his fingers. 

“Fucking her on their table”, he groans out as he pushes inside you in one swift motion. 

The sudden stretch and sense of fullness feel so overpowering you moan out again, longing for him to continue to work you towards the release you so desperately crave. 

As he snaps his hips against yours, his pelvis makes contact with your swollen pearl and you throw your head back in pleasure at the stimulation. 

Pushing your palms into the wooden surface underneath you, you bring your hips up slightly to meet each of Tom’s thrusts. He curses under his breath, gripping your hips tightly as he drags his length through your slick walls. 

It’s been so long. 

You’ve missed him so much. 

The sudden realisation that he's actually back, that you’re together again, paired with the familiar tightening as pleasure ascends inside of you, makes you clench down on him harshly, causing you both to moan in unison.

Tears of relief well up in the corners of your eyes as the climax you were previously robbed off seeks you out again. 

Tom continuously rolls his hips to meet yours, his length finding that spot inside you that makes you feel like you're floating. You wonder if all men are capable of this; of making young, sharp women into whining tarts. Or if it's just him. 

He once again slows his pace as your walls clamp down on him in a staggering rhythm, denying you the pleasure you so yearned for. 

“Tommy, please! I need release”, you sob, one frustrated tear falling down your flustered cheek. 

“You don’t need anything”, he scolds you, though he still has that cocksure smirk hiding behind the stern tone. “You just want a quick shag and for me to be on my way, s’that it?”

“No, no”, you shake your head in denial. 

“Then fuckin’ enjoy it”, he chides, ducking his head down to offer you another slow, breathstealing kiss. 

You want to enjoy it; enjoy being with him once again, but you can’t stop the ache between your thighs from consuming your senses.

Tom, knowing you better than you know yourself in this state, takes advantage of your dwindling gumption. 

“What do you want”, he asks again, one large, heated hand coming up to grab your chin. 

“I want you to make me peak”, you repeat, this time with a bit more confidence. You’ll play his silly little games, you don’t care about sounding vulgar anymore. 

Tom nods in understanding, feigning contemplation as he cocks his head at you. 

“You want me to fuck you?”, he clarifies and you immediately winch at his choice of words. 

Wasn’t he already?

You stay silent, shame, arousal and want making your inner monologue incoherent. 

“Tell me what you want. You want me to stretch out this tight cunt of yours?”, he inquires as he once again rolls his hips against you, causing his length to hit that spot that makes you weak. 

“Yes”, you whisper in defeat, nodding slightly in confirmation. The fingers holding your chin press into your skin harshly, “I can’t fuckin’ hear you”, Tom bites back. 

“Yes, I want you to fuck me”, you repeat, voice still low and filled with shame. He’s gotten what he wanted; he’s won once again. 

“Such an indecent little thing”, he muses as another boyish grin appears on his face. Feeling high on the rush of victory, Tom takes pity on your miserable state.

“Hold on to my shoulders”, he instructs as he picks up the pace once again. You follow his directive mindlessly, sweaty palms grabbing the fabric of his uniform harshly, surely ruining the crisp attire representing His Majesty's Servicemen. 

Tom’s lips find yours again, kissing you softly while the movement of his hips are anything but. He pushes you down onto the table, and you wrap your tired, shaking legs around his waist with the last strength you can muster. The new position allows him to enter you deeper as he consumes you fully, making the table underneath the two of you creak loudly with every slam of Tom’s hips. 

You feel the wetness between your thighs trail down your buttocks, dripping onto your family’s dining table. The thought makes you clench around Tom’s length again, aroused by the depravity he’s led you into. 

One of his hands moves down your stomach, lowering to swipe his thumb against your bundle of nerves. You whine at the brief contact, desperate for more. You’re so close now, you can feel your peak approaching again.

“Who’s the only bloke that gets to fuck you?”, he asks, thumb resting on your mound, waiting for your reply. 

“You, Tommy”, you answer instantly, voice whiny and shrill from despair. If he denies you release again you’ll surely compost from the tension restricted inside of you. 

“That’s what I thought”, he triumphs, thumb awarding your submission by granting your pearl stimulation. 

You peak within seconds, the tension inside of you erupting in an internal explosion of bliss, causing your hands to curl into fist, legs shake and breath get caught in your throat. Tom, seeing your face scrunch in pleasure as your walls tighten around him, climaxes with a loud grunt on top of you, body stretching taunt in pleasure before his arms give in, body sinking down to heavily rest on top of yours. 

You're still breathing heavily when he pushes himself up on both arms again to lock eyes with you. “Tell me you missed me”, he commands quietly, making it sound far less patronising than his previous demands.

You lift your head up to kiss him again. “I missed you”, you reassure him, smiling at his fleeting display of insecurity. 

How could you not? 

———

Thank you for reading! 🩵

[ordinaryschmuck]

Why I Love The Owl House: Part 5-The Themes

Prev Part

Salutations, random people on the internet who are already skimming past this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

And we’re just two parts away from me never talking about The Owl House again! In previous parts, we’ve talked about the characters, their relationships, and the narrative threads that are closely tied to them. For this part, we’re now discussing the show’s themes and messages. And I’ll level with you all: I’m admittedly...faulty at this part of media analysis. Anything regarding the discussion of a theme or message that a story tries to tell is something I struggle to do right. I regrettably either come across a theme through luck or piggybacking off of what others have said and throwing my two cents in. When it comes to putting it in my own words, I just…have issues in describing what the theme is. Hell, this whole part was the hardest to write because I often drew a blank of what to discuss or how to dig into it further. A part of me, deep down, KNOWS what a story is trying to say but I, a lot of the time, struggle finding the right words to best convey it.

Yeah, isn’t that rich? An English Major with a limited vocabulary and an ineptitude towards analysis. My life sucks sometimes…

With that said, there are some things that I’ve noticed about The Owl House and what it’s trying to tell to kids and maybe a few adults. A lot of its messages are definitely simple to older audiences, but with the things it has to say to kids it makes The Owl House something important to watch if they’re to shape the future. And no, I’m not talking about those lessons told at the end of each episode, but overall themes that occur through the course of the series. As far as I can tell, The Owl House has about…thirteen things to say about life, love, the trials of growing up, and how to deal with people. Plus, much like the narratives, it’s all tied closely to the characters and their personal journeys. Does the show say everything it needs to say well? Or is this another case of “If the show had more time it’d be better” and all that yada-yada? Well, let’s find out together as we count off the things that The Owl House has to say. Starting with a point the series makes exponentially clear:

(Also, prepare thyself. This one is twenty-five pages)

Honesty is the best policy 

I don’t know if you noticed, but these characters tend to lie. A LOT. And we’ve already gone into great detail with how often Luz lies in previous parts. Whether it's to her mom, her girlfriend, or friend group, Luz tends to keep some dark truths from the people she cares about. It’s partially selfish, but it comes from not wanting them to worry about her when they’re the ones currently going through it. It’s part of Luz’s bigger flaw of caring more for others than she does for herself (Which we’ll get to later), but the point remains constant that if she told the truth sooner, she’d have saved a lot of pain and heartache for herself and others. Same goes for other characters who lie for similar reasons but with greater consequences.

Going from least hurtful to most, let’s start with Eda, the one who lies in two different ways. The most obvious lies come with her pain, primarily the curse. She initially chose to keep her mouth shut about it, hoping that it’ll never turn into a big deal or a problem. If you’ve been paying attention to her character’s journey, you can tell how wrong that assumption was. When keeping it a secret from the rest of her family, the Owl Beast came out at the worst possible time, making Dell disabled and Gwen desperate to get the beast out of her precious daughter. By underplaying how bad it is to Raine, it makes Raine think their relationship isn’t serious enough so they break it off. She didn’t even tell Luz and King until they met the Owl Beast themselves and tried to survive it. Eda had King in her home for eight years and this was the first time he’s ever known ANYTHING about the Owl Beast. And even then, she still hides that it’s getting worse by the day, giving King and Luz an IDEA of what Eda’s going through but withholding the part that could upset them. Just telling them about the curse is arguably Eda at her most honest about what’s wrong with her, and she still doesn’t want to reveal everything. It’s part of this underlying problem where Eda’s unwilling to reveal the pain inside herself because, well, she’s the big bad Owl Lady. The most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles. And with a title like that, she doesn’t want anyone to know that she’s fragile. She tried being fragile once in the beginning of “Keeping Up A-Fear-Ances,” detailing what the curse does to her, and it made her mother go a little overboard in wanting to help her precious daughter. Needless to say, she’s not willing to go through that again, especially since Luz and Raine proves her point by putting themselves in danger when knowing how much Eda hurts. When Luz learns about how bad the curse got, she practically threw herself into the arms of the Emperor to find this specific thing that could help. And with Raine, while Eda opened up more about the curse and how it affected her magic, she still remains tight lipped about another thing: Her kids. She never brought them up, hiding her turmoil about them leaving her for good and was lucky enough that Raine found out soon enough so that SHE won’t abandon Luz and King when they still need her. It’s fortunate that Raine found out by accident, but UNFORTUNATE that it led to them getting captured to save Eda so she could talk things out with her kids. In Eda’s eyes, vulnerability means that you need to be helped or protected, with the ones you love paying the price more. She hates that feeling and despises it even more when people she loves get in danger because of it. Eda eventually finds her way out of this mindset thanks to the love King and Luz share with her and how Hooty and Dell prove that facing pain head on is the only way to heal from it. It was a slow process, but one that eventually led to her opening up more, even allowing herself to cry when she would usually hide her pain with a smile or push it down for the sake of a brave face. She becomes honest with her own pain, with her curse, and how much she truly cares about her loved ones. However, that’s more of a general lie with Eda. There’s one specific lie that she told that went on for way too long.

Lying to King about being a King of Demons seemed harmless at first. Eda was just messing around with what she thought was a pet. Only for that pet to prove he’s more intelligent than she thought and, as a result, more delusional. King took being the King of Demons as part of his whole identity, with every action he made trying to live out that fantasy. By the time Eda revealed the truth, it’s like telling a child that there’s no such thing as Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, AND the Tooth Fairy all at once. Only the effects would be ten times worse because it would destroy all of King’s sense of self AND give him questions that Eda wouldn’t have any answers to. Eda knew this inevitability would come any day now, so she put it off as long as she could, initially hoping that King would outgrow this fantasy himself so she won’t have to rip off this particular bandaid. Only to be backed into a corner because King and the others almost got killed in trying to prove that King’s really, well, a king. This time, telling a lie actually put someone in danger, so Eda tried the truth for a change and, well…it crushed him. More accurately, it shattered King’s core identity and sense of what's real and what isn't. Eda saw this, immediately felt guilty for holding it in for too long, but never comes to regret this decision. It’s something she KNEW needed to be done from the start and accepts the “consequences” of what comes from this lie. I put “consequences” in quotes because aside from a lot of tears being shed, this was the first step to King growing up and he would come to appreciate the honesty (even though he had a long, emotionally draining road ahead). Eda telling the truth WAS for the better, even if she should have told it long ago. But, all things considered, the lie wasn’t THAT bad of one. It was done to keep King happy and let him have some childhood innocence for a while…As for the lie AMITY told?

All Amity had to tell Willow was that her parents are forcing them apart because Willow’s family isn’t rich enough. That’s all. It wouldn’t have been great, but it would at least be the truth and Willow could have understood…Maybe. Well, there’s a slight possibility that Willow would have tried talking things out with Amity’s parents or continue to be friends despite them, not caring what they’ll do to her. Amity, not wanting to take that chance, decided it’d be best to make herself look like the bad guy. So, she lied that she doesn’t want to be friends with Willow because her magic is weak, thus distancing herself from her first real friend. Was it an extreme decision that crushed Willow’s heart and left her unsure if she’s capable of doing anything right? Yes. But to be fair…Amity said that lie when she was probably seven years old. I’d like to see what morally correct decision you made at seven.

But the first lie isn’t the worst part about Amity’s decision. In actuality, it’s how she decided to keep the lie going for years until Luz showed up and intervened. In Amity’s “defense,” which is really a frail excuse, she didn’t have any choice but to keep up the act. She already said it, it did its job, and now she has to commit to her lie or risk putting Willow in the warpath of her parents. Amity says it herself that she’s not brave enough to fight them for Willow, so she instead puts on a mask that makes her appear to be a mean girl and further separates herself from her now ex-friend. This led to Amity disrespecting Willow and belittling her because it’s better to have Willow hate Amity instead of let Odalia follow through on her threats. It wasn’t until Luz showed up and started improving Amity’s life that she realized that being nice FEELS nice. Is that an oversimplification? You better believe it is, but I talked about these three characters and this aspect of Amity and Willow’s relationship three parts in a row so LET ME SIMPLIFY! Anywho, it is good that Amity told the truth and it’s even better that she apologized, but it doesn’t change how the initial lie made things worse. In an attempt to protect Willow from Amity’s parents, she left Willow to face bullies and judgmental peers without anyone to comfort her or be in her corner. At least, not until she met Gus and then later Luz. It was almost a well-intentioned lie like Eda’s with King, but while Eda put off the truth to protect King’s innocence, Amity destroyed WILLOW’S with a single lie. By the time the truth came out, it finally STARTED the healing process. It didn’t fully heal Willow, but it STARTED to, with her admitting that making things right with Amity is what jump started her having more confidence. Confidence that she’d have since the beginning if Amity wasn’t the one to crush it by saying Willow being weak is the reason they can’t be friends anymore. Amity had her reasons, and I went over them thoroughly enough in previous parts (Go read THOSE), but it doesn’t change that Amity caused a lot of damage to Willow by lying about why they can’t be friends. On the bright side, while she did keep it going for too long, she at least made things right in about a couple years down the line. It’s not like she kept this one lie going for a dozen years until adulthood and letting things get so worse that it was almost too late to fix things. That would be AWFUL…Anyways, let’s talk about Lilith.

Lilith proves that a lie of omission still counts as a lie. For YEARS she kept in the secret of cursing Eda and for YEARS let Eda’s life get worse because of it. I’ll get to how thoroughly screwed up things got with Eda in a minute, but to keep things brief: Things would not have been as bad if Lilith fessed up sooner. There might have been a lot of yelling, a bruised nose, and Eda proclaiming she has no sister sooner, but time tends to heal all wounds. And they would have had more time to heal if Lilith spit the truth out at fourteen. She would have more time to fix things and prove that she can help Eda, just like how Amity started fixing things with Willow once revealing who was the REAL weak one in the relationship. Now, these are two VASTLY different scenarios and Eda would most certainly have been out for blood immediately, but I’m certain that if the rage settled they could have worked things out and Lilith might have helped Eda with the curse sooner. And, heck, if you go back FURTHER, there’s a chance that honesty could have stopped the curse altogether. If Lilith was honest about her own inadequacy and confessed to Eda about how she’s POSITIVE that her sister would win, Eda would have just shrugged and given the Emperor’s Coven position to Lilith no problem. Granted, joining that coven would have been its own can of worms, but it would have certainly saved Eda a lot of emotional and physical pain. Unfortunately, problems with showing weakness apparently run in the family and Lilith didn’t want to admit that she wasn’t stronger than her sister. She needed to PROVE it…by cheating and completely derailing Eda’s life in the most outrageous fashion. And Lilith would learn years later that the truth really does set one free. But again, I’ll get to that in a minute…

We all have our reasons for being dishonest. They’re selfish reasons in hindsight, but we still have them. Sometimes it’s to stop others from worrying about us, other times it's to hide something we’re ashamed of, and most of the time we just want to stall a bad reaction that we KNOW is inevitable. What we need to learn is that the truth ALWAYS comes out eventually, whether it's through us or through others. We can try to deny the truth, bury it, and hope that it never gets out, but it always does. And what The Owl House tells us is that it’s a GOOD THING for the truth to be out there, especially for loved ones. There might be secrets we HAVE to keep to ourselves, but if you can’t be honest with the people you love, then they can’t effectively help you nor can you help them. It’s always important to be as honest as you can be, because the more you put off the truth the worse the consequences will be. Because you never know how bad one action can snowball into something worse. Which brings me to another theme in the series…

Your actions can have unintended consequences

There are two characters this applies to: Luz and Lilith. You can…probably see where this is headed.

Luz and Lilith tend to make mistakes in the series, Luz more so than Lilith. Granted, Luz’s mistakes mostly stem from her character flaw of not thinking things through, mixed with some impatience and being afraid of confrontation. In other words: She’s a teenager. Dumb teens are going to do some dumb things, and while Luz is smarter than people will give her credit for, she’s still the kid who angered a Slitherbeast by stealing Amity’s wand when Eda’s lessons seemed like they were going nowhere. And that’s just a MINOR thing in Luz’s adventures. We already went over the domino effect last time and how Luz texting ONE LIE to Camila ended up putting her in a more stressful position than how telling the truth outright would have. There are also the many times Luz almost got herself killed, sometimes due to overconfidence or being too emotionally driven to take down someone threatening the people she loves. Most notable examples of that second one definitely comes from being hyper focused on fighting Lilith and Belos in “Young Blood, Old Souls,” which led to the destruction of the portal door and Luz struggling to get back home. Or how Luz thought she could take Belos head on again in "King's Tide," nearly getting petrified in the process if not for smooth talk and tricking him with an invisible branding glove. As for her near death experiences caused by overconfidence, well, let’s see: You have her going on that fake quest for Adeghast, pretending to be an abomination, fighting Grom, challenging Boscha to a grudgby match (That might as well count), and trying to steal the healing hat. And that’s just the stuff that happens in Season One, with some of it carrying over to MORE consequences aside from just almost dying. The wacky adventures in Hexside made Odalia think she has a case to get Luz, Willow, and Gus expelled. And when getting caught by stealing the hat and Lilith consequently using her as bait, it leads to Eda’s curse getting irrevocably worse and Luz being forced to destroy the portal during her attempt to save Eda from Belos. A part of growing up is learning that if you don’t think far enough ahead, you could cause disastrous consequences. Thankfully, for each mistake Luz makes, she is often quick to correct it when the problem arises at any time. Plus, after so many near-death experiences, it eventually molded Luz into becoming the kind of person who doesn't wants lasting consequences over something stupid she did, trying to be more careful in her approach to something. Because Lilith proves just how disastrous it can be to yourself and others if you don't think about the consequences.

The thing is, Lilith PARTIALLY knew the repercussions that came from cursing Eda. Simply put, Eda would have lost the duel and not join the Emperor’s coven. It was a selfish plan made by selfish desires, but Lilith believed she had things all figured out and that things SURELY wouldn’t snowball from there. Turns out, she didn’t think ahead enough (Yeah, big shock). Because everything that went wrong with Eda’s life is all Lilith’s fault. The Owl Beast attacking their dad? Eda running away from their mom? The distance Eda has with her whole family? Eda breaking up with Raine? It all circles back to the curse that Lilith put on her. Now, Eda owns partial blame as some of these were caused by HER actions that no one forced her to make. Yet the curse didn’t help much, especially as it got worse the older Eda got with her magic fading away with the curse’s effects. Lilith excuses this by saying she didn’t expect the curse to last more than a day, as if that actually means anything. Look, I get that she was young and very stupid, with her hyperfixation on joining the Emperor’s Coven blinding Lilith from what was right and wrong. But she still kept that secret for YEARS, not wanting to reveal it until she got a cure for Eda, only to make things worse not just because the curse got stronger and the distance with Eda and Lilith became greater. It’s because., by the time Lilith DOES spit out the truth, Eda’s already at her lowest point with the curse and is furious at Lilith for kidnapping Luz. Just like how Camila would have been LESS upset if Luz told the truth sooner, Eda would be significantly less blood thirsty if Lilith came out and admitted her guilt from the start. I said it with the honest theme: Time heals all wounds, and Luz and Camila prove that forgiveness CAN come if someone proves they’re sorry enough and had more time to reflect on their actions. Lilith was just afraid of that inevitable confrontation that she kept her mouth shut for YEARS to avoid it. She was too scared of facing her own consequences, and it’s why it’s a smart decision to let Lilith decide to SHARE the curse. It finally allows Lilith to understand what she put Eda through and express her apologies far better. It finally hammers into her mind what she did was wrong and how she can take the steps to improve things…We barely see any of this, but at least she’s NOW experiencing consequences for herself instead of letting someone else’s life get worse.

The Owl House does a great job of showing that anything we do, no matter how big or small, can always cause big problems for ourselves and others. There’s no changing that, and what matters most is how we react. If we wait too long, things can only get worse and it’s for the best to fix things as quickly as possible instead of pushing aside the inevitable. And be careful of what you do because you never know when one stupid idea could lead to something even worse for your future. However, while The Owl House does show how our actions have negative consequences, it is smart enough to say that the opposite is true. You see…

Your existence changes lives in unexpected ways

Whenever we do something bad, the domino effect it causes could lead to disastrous outcomes that we could never prepare for, but that doesn’t mean our existence is nothing but accidentally causing harm to ourselves and others. Existence is actually about changing the lives of people around us, a lot of the time for the better. And there’s no character that perfectly proves this more than Luz Noceda, who is the very reason that most people in the Isles is living their best lives.

“She also caused Belos to—”

SHE IS THE VERY REASON THAT THEY’RE LIVING THEIR BEST LIVES! Nearly every person she's come into contact with is better than they were before meeting Luz because she has this tendency to make life better through mere existence. Sometimes it’s unintentional, with Vee being the first person Luz helped. When Vee saw Luz in the Demon Realm, she saw that there was a chance to escape Belos and took it with no regrets…That is, until Luz showed up again, but it all worked out for the best. Vee got a home she felt safe in, friends to spend her life with, and a family that treats her as one of their own because Luz unintentionally gave her an out. And when Luz officially met Vee, she did everything to secure her future sister a safe space to live in. As for other characters Luz more DIRECTLY changed for the better, Eda and King are the first in that regard. They were looking for someone to steal something for them, only for Luz to bring them together as a family. She became the daughter that Eda never had but likely wished she did as Luz is just as chaotic as Eda was but with more of a good heart. Luz gave Eda someone to care for, someone to FIGHT for, as she proves that having someone in your life is a lot better than living alone as a criminal with her son being misconstrued as a pet. With Luz around, Eda allowed herself to love again, letting other people back in because she needs to when taking care of this fun, energetic girl that practically crashed into her life. And with King, Luz gave him someone that is almost ALWAYS on his side, being protective and caring towards this cute little guy who never had a friend before. Luz was the first person he’s consistently interacted with that’s anywhere CLOSE to King’s age, and she was there to offer warmth and snuggles, endless support in finding the truth about his people, and inspiration on how to handle someone like The Collector. With Luz’s help, King went from a greedy demon hungry for power that will never be his, to a sweet boy who learned that all he ever needed was the found family around him. Luz met two misfits who often fought but cared for each other, and brought them to become even closer as a family. A family that would be nothing without her, with the same going for Luz’s friends.

Luz formed her very own squad of pals, all of them coming together because she was there to make them close. Willow and Gus were already buddies when they met Luz, but she was still there to make things better between Willow and Amity and, through inadvertently meddling in Hunter’s life, made him and Gus the best of bros. The most unlikely of friendships, one rekindled while the other forged through adventure, all happened because Luz showed up and improved all their lives. I already THOROUGHLY went over how she was able to change Amity’s life for the better, so…go read that. As for Willow, Luz acted as a cheerleader that often pushed her first best friend to do something that was stupid and reckless but ultimately for the best. Whether it’s pretending to be an abomination or playing grudgby against a team’s captain, Luz nudging Willow towards adventures allowed her to find her true magical strength, face her bullies, and become a confident witch that Amity would relearn to respect and for Hunter to love. With Gus, while neither are as close to each other as they are with Willow, Luz still helped him get something he always wanted: More friends. Before Luz or Willow, Gus was looking for someone to like and respect him instead of using him as a way to get something they want. Then here comes Luz to not just be another friend but unintentionally give Gus the chance to make more of his own. She gave him glyphs to help impress Glandis kids, only to grow closer to Matt when someone like Bria started showing her true colors. And, again, meddling in Hunter’s life led to him and Gus going on an adventure that brought them together as bros. Now, how did meddling lead to that? Well, aside from giving Hunter his first social interaction with someone close to his age, accidentally giving him an emotional support bird, and being the first crack in the wall around his heart, Luz also took Hunter into the Emperor’s mind and completely shattered his worldview. By the time Gus found Hunter, the poor boy was shattered and desperate for comfort, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Gus was just the one there to pick up the pieces with Hunter paying him back when it was Gus’ turn to need help. Luz created this friend group where the kids all care and help one another and gives them the opportunities to grow and better themselves for the company they want to keep. These four wouldn’t be as close as they are without Luz. Willow, Gus, and Amity might not even have the CHANCE to meet Hunter or know who he is if not for Luz intervening and helping him out of Belos’ hold.

“But she still help free The Collector–”

Oh, you mean the child who was falsely imprisoned and needed to learn how to play nicely and safely with others? The same child who wouldn’t have been better if not for Luz teaching him the value of a mortal life? THAT Collector? Because you’re right. It is good that Luz helped free them, even if accidentally.

“But she still helped Belos–”

OKAY! Okay. I get it. You have this weird obsession with Luz accidentally helping Belos and believing that everything wrong with the Isles is because of her, regardless if it was an accident or not. Good for you and go f**k yourself. But let’s not forget that Luz is the reason why Belos’ regime toppled. Heck, she was doing that before she knew Belos was a problem. In Hexside, they limit students to stick to learning one magic track before graduating and picking one coven. It’s a blatant display of preparing them for the inevitable, only for Luz to come in and allow Principal Bump to realize maybe it’s worth letting kids sign up for multiple magic tracks before making a final decision. The results make the adults remember how much they miss their covenless days and a character like Jerbo being inspired to change the system when he grows up. Luz already started the gears turning to tear down the systems Belos built ALL IN her first day at Hexside no less. By the time she does meet Belos and see how clearly evil he is, Luz still goes about trying to ruin every part of his plan. Luz slows down his plans to flee the Isles after committing genocide by blowing up the portal door, she saves the palismen Belos would have used to extend his worthless life, and goes so far to help Lilith and Hunter, his most loyal soldiers, turn their backs on him. Luz was cleaning up the “mess” she made for helping Belos long before she knew she was “responsible,” which she wasn’t. Belos knew this, and it’s exactly why he revealed that Luz helped him with his plans, even though he could have tricked anybody. He used this ploy to trip Luz up, only for it to make her more determined to stop him…until the guilt became too much to bare at one point, but that’s where her friends, the support group that SHE cultivated because of HER actions, came in to encourage Luz and tell her nothing is her fault. And when Luz came back…she died. But the Titan, the GOD of this universe, took note of Luz’s actions and all that she did to give King a good life as a shining light of kindness and would then give Luz the powers she needed to come back, rip Belos out of the Titan’s heart, and let him melt away in the boiling rain. You can claim all you want that Belos’ rule is all because of Luz, but Luz still ruined all of his plans and stopped him for good, doing it intentionally and unintentionally. Meaning that everything she “caused” was being fixed by her own existence.

…Okay, might have went on a bit of a rant there, But I can’t help it! You see, I made a post THREE YEARS ago, listing the ways Luz improved lives and how that wouldn’t have happened if she never came to the Isles. And one person, on THREE SEPARATE OCCASIONS, replied to that post and mentioned how those problems wouldn’t have existed if Luz never came at all. And it just feels like it devalues Luz’s accomplishments, the good that she did, and takes away some of the blame from Belos. Luz didn’t force him to use coven sigils or steal palisman or even commit genocide. That was all him and if it wasn’t Luz it would’ve been someone else he tricked to get what he wanted. We don’t blame Hitler’s dictatorship on the guy who stopped him from stepping into traffic before having the chance to DO all those bad things, and we definitely don’t blame the fourteen year old who couldn’t tell that the spineless, shaggy human would become the most dangerous person on the Isles. Because if you want to go so far back as to blame Luz, then you can blame Eda too. After all, she’s the one who told Luz about the time pools, she’s the one who allowed Luz to stay, and she’s even the one who’s responsible for Luz coming to the Isles in the first place! Yet you don’t see people blaming HER for all the world’s problems, do you? No, you f**king DON'T…Though, now that I think about it, if we could transition to this finger pointing and unnecessary blaming, there are some positive things Eda’s existence brought out into the world.

Real quick: I’m not saying that everything good that happened to the Isles and Luz’s friends is because of Eda. Only a lunatic would go that far. What Eda DOES get credit for is how she gave her kids a better life. Luz was from a world where most kids never got her or her weird interests and actions. She was a social outcast looking to be understood and Eda gave her that chance of understanding. She brought Luz into a magical world, protecting her from its darker edges, giving her a chance to explore, and letting her find her people. Eda found a kid who was alone in her own world and brought her to one that would eventually greet her with open arms. Things weren’t perfect at first, as Luz almost died three times within her first week, but with Eda’s guidance and care, she gave Luz a place she could call a second home and two people she could call an extension to her family. Speaking of family, Eda is the reason why King has one. She saw a little creature that lived in the cave of a dangerous monster, took him home with her, and that creature grew up to be her pseudo son. She treated him as a pet at first, thinking nothing of it, but as she grew to realize his intelligence and childlike behavior, she started treating him more like a son. Plus it’s a good thing that she got King out of that spire. He would have grown up alone as the last of his species with no one but the mute Jean-Luc as company. By taking him with her, Eda gave King a warm home, good food, and, eventually, Luz. All that is before King legally made himself a Clawthorne, making his family larger and causing Eda to cry tears of joy because she grew to love the little. She grew to love BOTH her kids as she wouldn’t be the same without them just like how they wouldn’t be the same without her. Eda didn’t think much when taking these two in, she was only being charitable. Still, regardless of intention, Eda managed to improve the lives of two innocent kids that needed more love in their life.

Life is a chaotic thing, giving us consequences to our negative actions but also rewards ourselves and others through the mere act of existing. Sometimes we’re rewarded and other times the people we love are. In either case, we can never truly know how much a simple action can affect someone’s life, whether or not we intend to do so. If Luz is any indication, as well as Eda to a lesser extent, then the show is trying to tell us that your life might seem small and your choices smaller, but you’d be surprised by how big of an impact you can leave on the world just by being yourself. It’s a beautiful sentiment that the show stands by, being one of several ways it tries to tell people that they matter. Especially with this next theme.

There’s nothing wrong with who you are

In case you’re wondering, no, this isn’t about how the show normalizes sexualities, genders, different races, and overall equality. Though, real quick, that IS a valid and important aspect of the series that not enough people took into account, meaning that we SHOULD spread that message more so that it can stick. However, for this theme, it’s more than just about representation and letting many different kinds of people feel seen as individuals. It’s more about the image issues that a few different characters have.

Starting with the most obvious, we have Willow, The Owl House’s shy girl. The poor girl starts off so unsure of herself because she’s not as good as others in one specific kind of magic even though it’s obvious to everyone in the room what Willow’s real talent is. It doesn’t help that most of her classmates judge and make fun of Willow for her “weakness,” with the time she had on the show being spent proving to herself and others that she isn’t weak. It’s why when Willow DOES mess up or feels unable to help that it causes her to break down and think that maybe she is just “Half-A-Witch Willow” like all of her bullies say. Thankfully, she has her support system to be there for her, Luz and Gus constantly acting as cheerleaders to raise Willow’s spirits and Hunter sharing how much he admires her strength and kindness. Interestingly enough, he also has the same confidence issues as Willow, having no natural magic and always pushing himself twice as hard to be seen as an equal among his peers, who are some of the best witches in the Isles. They’re also GROWN witches who had more time to mature their magical capabilities, but nonetheless, it made Hunter constantly feel like he wasn’t good enough either. It’s what makes him and Willow having each other in their corner kind of beautiful. Most of the people they see everyday look down on them, with Willow and Hunter not doing themselves any favors. But together, they can remind each other that they ARE worth more than anyone bargained for. Though, they don’t JUST have each other. Again, Willow has her cheerleaders and Hunter eventually has Flapjack pulling him in the right direction. To be honest, I’ve said all that I’ve needed to say with these two, how they grew, and how they affected each other. Or rather how Willow affected Hunter, as it’s still mostly one-sided. If you want to find out why, just go back and read parts one and two, it clears things up better. For now, I’ll say that these two definitely had their fair share of confidence issues, with Willow’s being obvious from the start while Hunter’s became more apparent the more his heart opened up. When you’re surrounded by people you think are “better” than you, it’s easy to feel like you matter less despite your own talents. But in some cases, a lot like Hunter, people are better at hiding it.

Take a look at Eda. With the amount of confidence that she has and the ego she flaunts, you wouldn’t guess she has image issues. But then you look at the curse and it all becomes clear. Eda’s regrets, nightmares, and worries proves that she does care about how others see her and react to her bad side. It’s not as prevalent or as evident as Willow or Hunter’s issues but it’s still there, with things getting worse when the curse took away Eda’s magic. She’s no longer the most powerful witch on the Isles, losing all the fear and respect she’s garnished and is now forced to relearn to be powerful in different ways. She bounces back but not without a lot of frustration, more towards herself if anything else. Eda hates the fact that she’s “weak” now and was desperate to get herself back to the top as quickly as possible. It’s not until she learned that her curse can become a strength instead of a weakness did Eda really begin to feel better about herself. I mean, I’d probably feel better about myself too if I could suddenly transform into a hot harpy. She certainly isn’t complaining, and good for her. She proves that you can always get over your issues, no matter how long it takes. For Eda, it might’ve taken her late thirties or…early forties? Regardless of how old Eda is, it definitely took a long time to get better and, even then, she still has The Collector's manufactured nightmare about people seeing her as a monster, which clearly got to her. The unfortunate truth is that it takes time to heal and you won’t be completely cured. There are times you will have good days or bad days, with Eda representing that through her false, and sometimes honest, bravado that tends to hide how messed up her issues really are. It’s good to show kids how slow that progress can be, even if it’s handled in a way that’s not as noticeable. However, while one’s issues can take time to fix, others’ tend to get worse with more time and, of course, more trauma.

Luz definitely had her issues, even before the whole Belos thing. She hoped being a “chosen one” would help her fit in, was worried about being seen as fragile, and became concerned about tanking her reputation on the first day of going to Hexside. Luz may be a proud nerd at heart, but she’s also one who cares about how others see her, whether it’d be her classmates or the people close to her. It comes with spending years of others signaling Luz out as “the weird girl,” with the Boiling Isles giving her a fresh start. Luz can be whatever she wants, even the hero of her own story…only to feel worse about herself once growing some attachments. Every time she accidentally caused troubles for other people, it caused Luz to sometimes believe she was a burden and needed to fix any problem she indirectly caused. Just look at how Luz reacted to accidentally making Amity lose her job. After getting it back for her, Luz was ready to accept that Amity would never want to see her again, despite Amity sharing the blame for it. Because Luz, at her core, is a good person, and it hurts her deep down when she sometimes hurts the people she loves in this world that she feels more at home in. It’s why Belos telling Luz that she helped him with his genocide affects her so much. It’s not true, everyone in the show knows it’s not true, and even members of the fandom who aren’t idiots know that Belos is full of crap. His actions are still his own and what Luz did is nothing wrong compared to his horrible deeds. Yet it still gets to Luz because it takes all of her issues of feeling like a burden turned up to the highest degree because she blames herself for the Day of Unity happening and all the craziness that comes from it. It hurts her so much that she forgets one important detail: She’s just a kid. Her mistakes are common, but nothing to beat herself up over. She’s still growing and learning to be better, not having the mental or emotional maturity to know better than to trust a shaggy man that claims to be on her side. As long as Luz makes it clear that she regrets what she did wrong and learned from it, which she always does, there’s no one with a rational mind that will blame her. It’s why it hurts that Luz doesn’t think she deserves it. Even though everybody constantly reminds Luz that life is better because she’s in it, it’s still something hard for her to accept. The times she accidentally caused trouble back home likely attributed this behavior, having only Camila in Luz’s corner as everyone else was busy calling her a freak or a problem child. Sometimes when you’re told your whole life that you’re a problem, it’s hard to stop seeing yourself as one. That’s Luz to a T, and it’s not until she found people that understood her and how she’s neither a problem nor a screw up did Luz slowly start to believe it, even though part of her can’t help but go back to the guilt she felt about things she didn’t mean to do.

We all have our reasons for self-doubt and sometimes self-hatred. It can stem from how others see us, how we see ourselves, or sometimes how we BELIEVE others see ourselves. And it can be an issue that could unfortunately last decades, where we get better but not completely healed of what hurts us. The only way to help ease that pain is remembering, simply put, there’s nothing wrong with who we are. Are there times when people SHOULD improve themselves? Absolutely. But if you’re anything like Willow, Hunter, Eda, and Luz, you should know that there’s not much you need to improve aside from your attitude. You’ll make mistakes, you’ll go back to how you feel, and you will find it hard to get over this problem you’re dealing with. But with the people you love cheering you on and reminding you that you ARE loved in this world, then that’s already the first step you need. And if you think you’re not someone worth the effort as there are more people suffering harder than you, just remember…

Your pain matters too

Sometimes, the nicest kinds of people tend to think that the problems of others outweigh anything that they’re going through. Especially those who lived most of their lives being told that they matter less than anyone else. And…you can already tell which two characters this theme applies to.

Luz and Willow are both victims of caring too much. You wouldn’t think that’s an issue, but it very much becomes one when helping others stop you from helping yourself. Luz is a more popular example of this as she will frequently throw herself into danger just to help the people she loves. She’ll even treat helping someone as a distraction to her problems like helping Eda reunite with Raine and getting Kikimora out of the Emperor’s Coven to forget Luz’s promise to her mom. Or using Amity’s desire to join the Bonesborough Brawl as a way not to think about her dad. Luz constantly decides helping people is more important than anything she could be going through, with Willow being in a similar yet less intense boat. “For the Future” proves this, with Willow hyper focusing on making Hunter happy and suppressing her own stress and anxieties of her fathers as she did so. It’s exactly what Luz does throughout the series, just as a one-time occurrence that Willow learns from quickly. Her caring for others more than herself fits her good-natured attitude, but after her talk with Hunter and Gus it’s likely Willow won’t return to this behavior again…Which in turn presents a problem with Luz and this theme.

That moment between Gus, Hunter, and Willow in “For the Future” is great, but it feels like LUZ needed a moment like that with the people she loves. She KIND OF gets it with Amity in “Reaching Out,” but not to the same extent Willow got with her boys. Amity just boxed Luz into a corner and forced her to spit out what’s bothering her, with the truth and how Amity reacted to it making Luz think she can be a little honest with her feelings. Only for her to go right back to distracting herself so she doesn’t confront her emotions in the very next episode, with Eda helping out by telling Luz the story of how she first met Raine. Meanwhile, Gus and Hunter told Willow that they appreciate her and everything she’s done for them, but tell her it’s okay to feel sad and to let it all out. And…Well, since there was only one episode left after that moment and all of it was dedicated to fighting the bad guys and giving our characters happy endings, all we can do is assume that Willow DID learn from her adventure in “For the Future” and grew from it. Even though Luz sort of gets that same lesson, there’s never this explicit case that she’s growing from it. If you dig deep enough in how she slowly admits what’s wrong or how she’s willing to vocalize her journal entry about what’s bothering her, then you can see that Luz learns a little. But when she’s the character that constantly puts others' needs above her own, especially for mistakes she didn’t intend, then it feels weird that she doesn’t get the same thing Willow got. If anything, it makes what Willow went through feels more like a lesson of the week than an application of this underlying theme within the series. It’s still a valid lesson to teach, but if this was something both Luz AND Willow needed to learn then Willow needed more moments in the spotlight of putting others' needs in front of her own and Luz needed more of a scene like Willow’s to better herself. It’s still fine as is, it just could have been better.

Still, it’s an overall good theme to teach kids. The Owl House is clearly telling them to be kind to others, primarily through its main character being the purest one of the bunch. But as good and important it is to spread the message of kindness, it’s equally essential to let them know it’s okay to focus on themselves sometimes too. You’re not going to properly help anyone if YOU’RE not feeling good yourself. Whether you just need to cry it out or talk it out with someone you love, it’s important to think of yourself from time to time. It’s not selfish to care about your own well-being and you won’t be a bad person for taking a day to just…decompress. You can do much worse than make yourself happy. As for those who HAVE done worse, well, there’s a theme meant for them.

People can always improve

The Owl House is one of those shows that spreads the message of turning enemies into friends instead of leaving them as, er, enemies. And if it’s enough to piss off Lily Orchard (Don’t bother with her), then you KNOW the show is doing something right. But in fairness, the show makes it clear that this decision is best reserved for those who are explicitly complex. Just look at Amity, Lilith, Hunter, and The Collector, characters we would have never expected to be reformed by their first appearances. Amity started out as generic prissy mean girl #115, Lilith was a snooty witch with a stick up her bum, Hunter was a charismatic fighter who threatened the lives of “criminals,” and The Collector was a god-like being who seemed to take joy in wiping out an entire race of people. Not great setups for characters you eventually want us to find redemption. Thankfully, The Owl House is a smartly written show and knows that you got to show layers to a person and why they’re like a certain way.

Amity and Hunter are by far the best examples of this. Every episode they’re in shows a new layer to them and the lives they live. To keep things brief (because I’ve talked enough about them already), they’re both kids who grew up with parental figures that made them believe that you have to always do what you’re told to justify your existence. Odalia and Belos both proved that there will be major punishments for when Amity and Hunter fail, motivating them to do their best for the wrong reasons. And doing their best often meant putting others down or doing something without knowing better because…what else could you do? Run away? Fight back? Stand up for yourself? Yeah, easier said than done. Hunter is proof that it’s not that simple, with Belos physically mistreating Hunter whenever he spoke up or how Belos WILL send his guards out to hunt Hunter down. Not everyone can be like Amity who has a parent that EVENTUALLY cares enough to kick the more abusive parent out. Sometimes, when you’re on your own with no real support group, it causes you to do as you're told without learning until later that it was the wrong choice. Amity and Hunter both show that, and it isn’t until meeting their friends that things start to change for the better for them. And they sure did change, with Amity and Hunter always getting a little bit better, even if their living conditions made it a bit difficult to do so. Plus, they’re kids. Kids are allowed to grow and change, especially if they’re always learning from their mistakes before doing something TRULY unforgivable. Unlike…other characters that I’m not a fan of in a different show I tried so hard to love. And when it comes to fictional storytelling, especially ones aimed for kids, I usually try not to avoid the “They’re just kids” argument because…yeah, obviously they’re just kids. That doesn’t change how well the writers handle their redemption, because if I’m left questioning if this character is MEANT to be redeemed, something screwy is going on here. With The Owl House, the writers consistently remind you that these characters are young and naive, with that knowledge playing into Amity and Hunter’s redemptions as it makes it an easier pill to swallow. And it doesn’t work JUST for these two.

The Collector being a kid is the central point to their redemption. He literally doesn't know better and–I’ve also gone over this a lot too, I know. But the point keeps being valid every time you look at The Collector’s actions. Even with the way they put Luz, Eda, and King into playing his weird games, The Collector still sits down and mopes because they all kept winning. It’s very much the same as a sad, lonely child who doesn’t like losing or people having more fun than them. All The Collector wanted was to play and have fun, but was punished for it because his siblings abused The Collector’s naïveté and made it look THEY were responsible for the other Titans…going extinct. And being falsely imprisoned for thousands of years tends to leave one a little agitated, as well as overly excited to be free and let loose. He didn’t do better because they never KNEW better, with Luz understanding that after just ONE real conversation with the kid. She was as freaked out as anyone else when first meeting The Collector, but, just like with Hunter and Amity, the more Luz got to know him the better she understood why The Collector acts the way they do. Everyone has reasons for their actions, some of them more justified than others. And even for the unjustifiable, it’s not too late to turn things around.

Lilith’s redemption still has some issues. Again, I VERY MUCH went over that enough. Yet it again comes with the best intentions of proving that you’re never too old to change. Lilith cursing Eda was wrong. VERY wrong. But she at least admitted to it and put the work into making up with her sister, already off to a great start by sharing the curse with Eda. Sure, Lilith still felt aggravation towards Eda and would occasionally act a LITTLE stuck upish, but the more Lilith stuck around the more it’s revealed how desperate she is for approval. Even a quick bit of Lilith making a little ice sculpture of Luz as a teacher giving Lilith a gold star speaks VOLUMES of her need for authority figures to give Lilith approval. Even if said authority figure is a fourteen year old who just knows more about glyph magic than Lilith. It also helped that Lilith had Hooty there, bringing out her best and bringing some levity in her life. It makes her from thinking that she’s at the lowest point of her life to realizing that life just got started for her and that she CAN make improvements, have better connections with the people, and can be a kinder person instead of a cold, stick in the mud. And with each episode we see her in Season Two, Lilith DID get better as a character and as a person, finding her true self and proving that you don’t NEED to be dragged through the coals forever to better yourself…Even if a sick part of me kind of wishes she was. I just feel like everyone forgave Lilith a little too fast, and while improving herself is fine, forgiveness is a completely different thing. But I also went over THAT enough, so I’ll just stick with the fact that while Lilith’s redemption is the most flawed here, it still does the job to prove that people are never just one thing forever.

People can change, and a lot of the time it’s for the better. They might have done things they’re not proud of or learn to regret, but everyone has a reason for it. Whether it’s how they’re raised to act, how their goals blind their morals, and quite literally didn’t know better. For these people, it’s always best to give them a second and maybe even third chance, especially if they have a clear desire to change. Some certain cynical sycophants will sometimes say that a character shouldn’t be redeemed because they don’t deserve it, but that’s not really how redemption works. It’s not about DESERVING redemption but proving you’re capable of it. When a show paints how a character is always bad and needs to change yet consistently goes back and forth on them being better or worse without much apparent growth, then that’s where it becomes a problem within the story. But if the show reveals layers to a character, proving that they’re flawed but good deep down and allowing that character to better themselves throughout the story, then it’s writing the message correctly. There are cases where there’s a good person deep down a LOT of hot garbage, with a lot of morally dark actions burying them deeper, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t forget that bright light of a human being that still wants to do good and trying desperately to claw their way out of their own pile. It’s…a complicated metaphor, but people are just the same as that: Complicated. We can grow and be better, it just takes time and love to do so. Although, to teach a message like that to kids, it is important to make one thing clear…

Some people don’t deserve redemption/forgiveness

This is the most ESSENTIAL distinction to make when writing a show about bringing the best out of others and getting them to change and redeem themselves. Yes, there are people capable of being good but there are still people out there who are too far gone to change or refuse to see how they’re a problem on all accounts. You can reason all you want with them or try your hardest to bring them out into the light, but no matter what you do, they’ll still refuse to accept that they’re the problem.

Kikimora is a perfect starting example of this. “Follies At the Coven Day Parade” was our first and…honestly, It’s our ONLY insight into there being more to Kikimora than a psycho who’s very okay with child murder. Luz catches Kiki getting stressed over not being able to see her family due to her duties being more important. The Owl House has done more with less when it comes to trying to hook viewers into sympathizing with characters worthy of redemption. I mean, just look at what they eventually try with Boscha. Besides, you don’t need a BIG reason to help someone into the light. As long as it seems like there’s a GLIMMER of a hope, then that can be enough to make it justified to help them. It’s only dependent on how quickly that glimmer gets stomped out that you realize mistakes were made in helping someone. To Kikimora’s credit, it seemed at first she was grateful for Luz and the others to help her be free of the Emperor’s Coven, even if a little annoyed by their flawed plan and ridiculous antics. It’s not until Terra (We’ll get to you in a sec) mentioned a promotion did Kikimora’s true colors show. When it seems like she’s at her lowest, Kikimora is willing to find an out so she doesn’t get disposed of like your average Golden Guard (Which she might have always known about?). But when it seems like she has a chance to be on top? Well, then Kiki will say her family could rot for all she cares if it means she’ll be seen as the best of the best. It’s that desire to inflate her already big ego, mixed with the insane drive to do so, that proves how Kikimora isn’t one to change because she has no desire to. Her only desire is to look out for herself and do what’s best for her, but to a selfish degree that often leads to others getting hurt. To Kikimora, the only problems that she needs to take care of are those who try to prevent her goals of reaching to the top. And she’s not the only one.

It still amazes me how Amity desperately tried to convince Odalia not to assist a genocide. I said it before, and I’ll say it one more time: This was Amity’s last attempt at proving that her mother isn’t evil. And we all know how well that turned out. The reason that it amazes me that Amity even TRIED because…there hasn’t been an ounce of kindness that Odalia showed to anyone. With Alador, there’s at least SOMETHING, whereas the nicest thing Odalia did was compliment on Alador’s work. Still, even then, it isn’t much given that she didn’t really know how much Alador would appreciate the compliment. So if Odalia never acted good, why bother reaching out? Well, as I’ve said several times before, it’s hard for a child to accept that their parent has ZERO good inside them. Amity wanted to see for herself, once and for all, if there’s really NOTHING good in Odalia and the answer…was exactly what she needed to hear. Even if it’s baffling that Amity tried to reach out, it’s still good that she did. It’s always important to at least TRY instead of giving up on someone outright. Amity more than anyone knows that not everyone is completely bad, so it’s great that she and kids watching understand that sometimes what you see really is what you get. A better example of this is Terra.

No one really tried with Terra. Specifically, no one in the CAST tried with her. The most people did was try to reign Terra in and tell her NOT to kill children and that didn’t really change anything. The fact that Terra RELUCTANTLY agreed just proves how deranged she is and how no sane person would want to change her. The writers knew this as even they didn’t try giving Terra that many layers outside of a crazy person who liked torturing the youths. And given that this is a series that loves showing how most of its characters are layered with a few of them deserving redemption, it’s perfectly fine to show one that’s one-dimensional and bloodthirsty. It helps sell the fact that not EVERYONE is redeemable, like having Season One Boscha act as a one-dimensional bully to make Amity’s redemption more digestible. You got to show a bigger bully to prove how the other isn’t so bad, and that’s what makes Terra so important. She’s the bigger bully, and her actions prove that while SOME people are capable of change, others like Terra are more than fine with who they are. And I’ll give Terra this, at least she’s sociopathic enough to understand she’s the bad guy and LOVES that about herself. Unlike others who genuinely believe what they’re doing is for the greater good.

Belos is the best example of how some people will just NEVER change. It’s never too late for one to redeem themselves in some way, but Belos has been living among witches and demons for CENTURIES. He had hundreds of years to see that there’s nothing wrong with who they are and take note that they’re kind people just living life and not really hurting anybody. Instead, he focused on the bad parts. The witches who made him dance for his book. Lilith, who punched him in the nose. And, of course, the witch who stole his brother away. These all circle around in his brain for as long as he lived, ignoring the TRUTH behind these responses. The Fang brothers and Lilith only treated Belos that way because he killed the Fangs’ brother and put Luz and Lilith in danger for his own reward. As for Evelyn, she didn’t STEAL Caleb away, he willingly followed her to a new world. Yet Belos refused to see anyone else’s point of view and that witches were ALWAYS the problem. Never him, and not anyone else. So he dedicated his entire life to fulfilling his plan, mutilating himself and becoming less human by the day, all so he could wipe out witches and demons from existence. He justified it because of his idea of the greater good, believing he was some tragic hero pushing himself to do what’s best for humanity. In reality, he was just a sad old man who never took the time to ask “What if I’m wrong?” And if he DID ask that, well, he likely suppressed that thought deep, deep, DEEP down inside himself so he wouldn’t have to think it again. Belos was a monster that would never change because he didn’t think he needed to despite having all the time, all the chances, to see that he could be wrong only to deny and refuse any other possible answer. Not even Luz, who forgave most of her enemies, wasn’t even willing to give Belos a chance, appealing only to his ego instead of his humanity as she knew full well he wouldn’t listen. The only person who really tried with Belos was The Collector, a child who learned the concept of kindness and forgiveness for the first time in their life and didn’t know better. If that doesn’t say a lot about Belos, I don’t know what does.

It’s always important to preach the message of helping people better themselves. There are good people in this world and it’s admirable to help those who want to be good but need to learn or relearn how. However, not EVERYONE is going to be like that. One way or another, they don’t see themselves as someone who needs to change. They either think there’s nothing wrong with them or believe that the rest of the world should change itself first. You can TRY to reach out to them and maybe you’ll succeed in some way with a few of these people. Just don’t feel too disappointed when it turns out that some people are too broken to fix. In that regard, there’s not much you could do to help them and you’ll often find yourself fighting against them. And you might want to make sure none of those people get too big of a dangerous job, because you’re not going to like what they’re capable of. You’ll see why in this next theme.

The ones who make the rules are sometimes the most dangerous

Not ALL the time, mind you. There are SOME nice people running things…probably. But not EVERY person should be in charge. There are those who abuse the system for the chance of lifting themselves up higher or hurting those whose only crime is existence. They have their “reasoning,” but it always boils down to excuses in some ways. It’s always based on “How they’re raised” or “It’s based on what their religion says.” While that explains their actions, never does it justify anything they’ve done as it’s a weak shield against the arguments about their moral character. Your upbringing and religion doesn’t stop you from coming across as a turd nugget, and if you’re wondering who I’m calling out with this, it’s the kind of people that Belos represents.

The absolute tragedy is that there are people in real life who are a lot like Belos. It’s just that he’s exaggerated for a storytelling effect and to keep things simple for the kiddos. Regardless of that, he still acts like those you’d see and hate. He’s a maniacal, manipulative leader who made the ranks through lies, smooth talk, and telling people what they want to hear. Because when you act like you know better than others, and do so with enough confidence, you’d be surprised with how easily people will be convinced to follow someone who speaks nothing but nonsense. And nonsense really is the name of Belos’ game, as he manipulated a group of people’s sacred beliefs and formed a religious oligarchy just so he could kill those he was manipulating in the first place. As far as my admittedly limited political knowledge goes, there hasn’t been a person that’s gone THAT far, as most of them actually believe the crap they’re saying. It’s just Belos who manipulates beliefs to get his way. The Witches consider the Titan their god? Then he’ll use that god to make them think he’s unhappy with how witches use magic. It’s similar to how people use the “It’s not what God would want” when making their stance on other people’s rights, except it’s not THEIR god that Belos believes in. He’s a puritan who thinks that all these sins he’s committing to the people of the Isles is worth it because it’s what HIS god wants. And for the record, I don’t think that there’s anything wrong with believing in God or any god for that matter. But if you really believe that God would want you to kill others to appease him when his teachings boil down to love and forgiveness, then I don’t think you’re worshiping God the right way. That’s something Belos doesn’t realize, as he would twist his own soul into a pretzel for the sake of his “holy mission.” Yet that mission was nothing more than a shield to hide behind his discrimination. Much like other “leaders” in the world.

Am I projecting how I see certain scumbags on social media onto Belos? Most definitely, but I feel like Dana Terrace is most certainly doing the same thing. Look at any conservative online and tell me that they don’t have similar mindsets to Belos. Because to me, they definitely do, and it’s the way Belos transformed the Isles that makes me worry about those real life dingles. Especially with how REAL the Isles feel in that regard. Oh, things seem fine. In fact, things are relatively normal with people living their lives without any real negatives. That is, as long as you join a coven, otherwise you’ll be marked for death if you break the one important rule. Everything seems to be alright for everyone who stays in line and follows the rules, much like real life society. We can live normally and be at peace as long as we ignore the problems that exist, do as we’re told, and never CONSIDER straying from the path. And that acceptance of how things are is exactly what the bad guys in charge use to get what they want. They spread their message to those who WANT to listen and are fine with what’s being preached, all while painting those who say otherwise as the purest of evil. When, nine times out of ten, it’s usually the person preaching that crap who turns out to be the real scumbag. They don’t want you to think differently or question why things are the way they are, either because they don’t want their own place in the world to be challenged or, like Belos, they actually believe that people who are “other” are actually evil. It’s why he gave these people, who were initially content with their lives, a system that seemed to encourage in-fighting, proving that you’re the best at a specific skill, and letting others climb to be the most powerful in the world for the sake of their god. Belos devised a way for witches to basically fight each OTHER, temporarily playing the long game so he can stall until finding a way to kill them all at once when his time was starting to run out.

I wouldn’t say that the show is ENTIRELY anti-government. If it was, the ending wouldn’t have implied that Raine and Darius have basically started their own. To me, the show is more likely saying that you need to be careful in who you put your faith in to lead you. Not EVERY politician is evil, but none of them are saints either. A lot of them have ulterior motives for letting them lead, with a person like Belos showing just why we should be wary of who to trust. Belos may be an exaggerated worst case scenario, but one that’s very much possible if we don’t prepare well enough to stop those just like him. As for who’s who, well, that’s up to your own beliefs and research to find out. Just remember that even though someone is in charge, that doesn’t mean they have your best intentions in mind. Though, keep in mind, this is mostly about the people in politics. There are authority figures you should be wary of, but most of the ones who know you personally are trying to keep you safe. It’s the ones that have known you for years. Ones who want to make sure you’re having the best life. And while they’re not always right, there are some out there who want to do right by you. And what authority figures are those? Why, your parents of course!

…Look, I wrote myself into a corner and I needed a good transition into the next theme. I know parents are nowhere NEAR the same government officials or those who uphold the law, but they at least uphold the law in YOUR house. Though, some of them aren’t perfect at it.

Parenting isn’t easy

There are a LOT of parents that do their best in this show. The only real exception is Odalia because…she’s Odalia. It’s the rest that shows they’re doing all they can to give their children a better life. Willow’s dads are willing to give up their jobs to continue Willow’s education when she’s expelled, Perry wants to support Gus’ talents, and, hell, even one of Boscha’s moms seems desperate to be a part of her daughter’s life by asking to join in on the Moonlight Conjuring. There are some decent parents in this show, but not a lot of them tend to get credit for their efforts. Mainly because, in some cases, their efforts aren’t good enough to those who’ve had…similar experiences that turned out for the worst. Those types of people tend to not feel good when a show says, “Give your parents the benefit of the doubt.” You can…already tell where this is going, and I want those fans to know that their emotions are valid and, if I were in their shoes, I would feel the same way. However, I think there’s some value in how The Owl House tries pointing out a parent’s love is the most essential part done right, even if some parents tend to fumble at first.

Starting with the most forgiving, we have…Camila.

“LE GASP!”

DO NOT get me wrong: Camila is still the best parent in the show and one of the best cartoon moms of all time…That doesn’t mean she hasn’t made any mistakes. In fact, Camila acknowledging her mistakes is part of what makes her one of the best parents. She was a single mother trying her best to raise Luz right, but got lost along the way due to how OTHERS perceived Luz, not so much how CAMILA saw her. She loved Luz’s wackiness and oddities, it’s what made Luz…Luz. Camila was just worried because not everyone would feel the same way, and that would mean Luz would not fit in with…anyone. And with everybody judging Luz and even judging CAMILA, it left her feeling pressured to make a change to fix the situation. Her fault was that Camila decided on sending Luz away to a camp in an effort to help her daughter, only for that to make Luz feel like SHE’S the problem. It’s not what Camila intended, but it’s how her actions came across, and it immediately left some bad tastes in some fans’ mouths. Some of it was very unwarranted as too many jumped on the hate wagon by calling Camila a bad mom who doesn’t love her daughter despite a fair amount of evidence pointing to the contrary. Still, when she does things like send Luz away or unintentionally guilt Luz into thinking she can never return to the Isles, some fans can’t help but see their own dismissive or possessive parents, even if Camila isn’t meant to be like that. She’s a mother trying her best and made a few mistakes along the way. She at least learned from her mistakes, managed to be better, and was given more depth for why she acted this way. And her character was certainly more well-received than other problematic parents doing their best.

If you couldn’t guess already, Gwen and Alador are the other two. I’ve said ALL that I’ve needed to say about them, there’s no need to stretch it out further, and so I’ll just speed by them. Firstly, they’re both characters where you understand the intention the writers were going for. They’re meant to be parents who genuinely love their kids but went about supporting or helping them the wrong way. Gwen was a mother who wanted to cure her daughter’s curse at all costs due to the pain it caused Eda and the rest of the family. She just ignored Eda’s feelings about the matter, not being satisfied unless the curse is gone FOREVER. And all that ignoring led to Eda distancing herself from Gwen because of all the intense and ineffective treatments, with an extra side-effect of Gwen ignoring Lilith because her problems weren’t as “important” as the one she caused. Though, that last bit might have been a thing long before the curse. At least, that’s what’s implied. Her actions were less than ideal, and to some fans, it would take more than a single “I’m sorry” to make things right. Unfortunately for Gwen, she never really got a chance to prove she’s forever changed like Camila did. Outside of redeeming herself at the end of her introductory episode. The next time we see her, she drops the news to Eda that Dell is about to visit, giving Eda no time to mentally or emotionally prepare herself for her father’s arrival. It was done with the best of intentions and Eda would have refused until the day she died anyways, but it’s still the same as Gwen showing up unannounced with a new and “totally legitimate” cure. Camila at least put in an effort to be okay with the Isles, even if some aspects freak her outyears after her first visit. But that’s the benefit of being a character who was allowed to grow and change because the writers found a way to include her in the main story. Gwen didn’t have that luxury, with the show barely having enough time to fit her in at all. I feel like the reason for that was because the writers didn’t have plans for Gwen outside of her introduction, so they just hoped that what she did in that episode would be enough. And…it is for a mostly one-off character, but it causes SOME reservations with fans due to the years of damage and neglect Gwen partook in. I would still personally say that what she does is enough, but I’m a person who didn’t have a mother problem like Gwen, and the fans who did are likely going to respectfully disagree with me. Though, I feel like I can confidently say that Gwen’s mistakes are an easier pill to swallow than Alador’s.

Alador is very much not an improvement as he constantly stayed out of Odalia’s way and did what she said to make her happy so she wouldn’t do anything WORSE to the kids. Even though what she already did wasn’t all that great to begin with, Alador kept telling himself that Odalia will somehow be even worse if she doesn’t get her way. He tried to SUBTLY steer Odalia off course, but still did next to nothing to really stop anything she’s done. He does when she finally goes too far, but to some fans’ eyes it’s too late. Now the question is: Is Alador stopping Odalia from assisting a genocide and promising to do better ENOUGH to accept? And to some fans…the answer is no. It’s a good start, but it’s hard for some people to accept an apology that seems to come too late. It’s even harder to accept because the show’s about over and there’s next to no time for Alador to improve himself as a good parent. I get that he WANTS to, but wanting to be a better parent and actually being one are two different things. Trust me. The epilogue hints that he did well enough for Amity to still be happy to see him, it’s just that we don’t get to see that change for ourselves, thus making it a harder pill to swallow that he’s really a good parent.

It is a good thing for kids shows to say that parents are doing their very best. I’m willing to say that there’s a VAST majority of parents who actually love their kids, even if they sometimes make decisions that could unintentionally upset the child at first. It’s nice to tell kids that their parents still love them, and it gives the parents watching The Owl House a chance to see some of their mistakes be painted negatively and it’s not too late to change. However, there are still teens and young adults who DIDN’T have the best parents growing up, and they’re going to be slightly willing to resent some attempts to make imperfect parents better. It at least works with Camila, with only those who disagree being fans who hyper-focused on her worst attributes and ignored her most nurturing moments for the sake of just…hating her, I guess. Ever since “Thanks to Them,” the hate train for Camila has LONG since left the station with barely any passengers on it anymore, and it’s all because of Season Three having her confront her mistakes and improve on herself. We don’t get that with Alador and Gwen, so saying that they’re parents doing their best doesn’t really cut it because we never got the chance to see what their “best” ever was. Both have their moments that make me appreciate the effort, but they’re a case of the intention being better than the execution, making this a lesson that needed better planning for its other parents. Though, in fairness, the lack of proper preparation for making imperfect yet loving BIOLOGICAL parents MIGHT have something to do with The Owl House LOVING the Found Family trope…

Family is more than blood

Ah, the found family trope. Something that’s genuinely wholesome every time it’s used. Whether it’s outcasts and weirdos finding acceptance through each other or poor sad sacs finally experiencing love for the first time with someone who isn’t a blood relative. The Owl House loves this trope, especially with its main trio. I’ve said…pretty much all I need to say about these three and how important their love for each other is. Their bond is at the core of what makes the show so compelling, and seeing them be happy together is what makes watching The Owl House great. On top of that, it also does a job of showing that you don’t need to be a child’s birth parent to be a GOOD parent.

Eda’s a surrogate mother to Luz and an adopted mother to King. Neither of them are her flesh and blood, but she will ALWAYS treat them as such. At least, she eventually does. Initially, Eda kept pushing the label of Luz being her APPRENTICE before sticking with calling Luz her “kid” and would treat King more as a pet before seeing him as a son. It’s partly Eda not wanting to accept that she likes having people in her life, and partly because the writers were not a hundred percent sure about character dynamics until almost halfway through the second season. Regardless, by the time everything is all figured out and accepted, Eda basically starts to become mom of the year. She prioritizes Luz and King’s safety above anything else, takes time out of her day to get those kids the things they need on the day-to-day, and will get extra murdery when someone so much as THINKS about hurting her babies. It gets to the point where if the pressure of her kids being in danger becomes too much, it’ll cause Eda to break, making her one of the few cartoon parents who absolutely refuses to let her children get mixed up in the danger. The parental figures of shows like these tend to accept that it’s something the kid HAS to do or begrudgingly goes along with it because…it makes the plot easier. Even the parental figures who tell their kids to be cautious when approaching danger tend to still bring their kids into said danger. With Eda, she’s the rare case where I’ve seen a mother actually cry from stress over worrying about her children, which proves how strong her love is for Luz and King. You don’t need to be a biological mother to love your kids, and Eda proves it. As well as a certain someone else.

I do want to gush about how Camila is the mother Vee never had, taking the poor little snake in when she had nowhere else to go. The problem is that there’s not really a greater focus on it, but, at the same time, there doesn’t need to be. We understand everything from something as simple as Camila running to hug Vee when she reveals her new form. At first, Camila may have been put off by the SURPRISE of Vee, mainly because the reveal of a snake demon pretending to be her daughter was a bit too much for her. But after calming down and seeing Vee for what she is (Which is a scared teenager with boatloads of trauma), Camila agrees to let Vee stay with her because the girl has nowhere else to go. That very act shows off Camila’s kindness, sure, but the little bits we get in “Thanks to Them” shows that this is more than a woman offering a teen a place to stay out of the goodness of her heart. There’s that first hug I’ve mentioned, sure, but we also have Vee learning Spanish fluently and a picture of Camila proudly teaching Vee how to make empanadas. It makes it seem like there’s a genuine effort to make Vee a permanent member of the family, with Camila not seeming to be against it. And her final hug to Vee at the end of the special cements that she’s more than happy to have Vee in her life, which is further confirmed in the pictures we see in “Watching and Dreaming.” Vee became a permanent part of the Noceda family, joining in on family outings and graduating with Vee in pure glee. She hasn’t been with them long, but Camila and Luz love Vee like a mother and sister would, being something that’s so genuinely heartwarming to think about despite how little we see in the show…It also feels more earned when compared to Hunter and Darius.

I still appreciate what was MEANT to be done with Hunter and Darius, don’t get me wrong. It’s sweet to give Hunter a father figure and someone to consider family outside of Belos because…it’s Belos. Hunter deserves SOMEONE to love and guide him outside of Flapjack, and Darius is revealed to be someone that was strict but understanding about Hunter being a teenager. Plus, with the information that he was close with Hunter's predecessor, and the knowledge of what happened to previous Golden Guards, you can take this as Darius wanting to keep his friend’s memory alive through Hunter. The potential of what they could be is there and what we see is still good. I really do enjoy that Darius seems ready to take Hunter in after Hunter was ready to accept that he has no one, even taking interest in Hunter’s love of wolves the second he talks about them. It’s certainly charming…but we also barely see any of it. More than that, we’ve hardly seen it built up. I know the same applies to Vee and Camila, but here’s what they have that Darius and Hunter don’t: Time and close proximity. Even when they’re off screen together, they’re still together and you can imagine the bonding they MUST be going through, even if they’re off-screen. You can’t live in the same house with somebody and NOT form some kind of connection with them. For Hunter and Darius, while they MIGHT live in the same castle, but they’re often both busy with duties and responsibilities to even TALK to each other. At least, that’s what we can assume from these two. Camila and Vee seem significantly less busy with one another, so it’s easy to imagine that they have all the time in the world to chat and bond. Hunter is rarely in the same room as Darius unless in uniform. I get that Darius cares for the boy, what with how overprotective he got and ready to rain hell once learning that Hunter’s in Belos’ mind too. But that’s the only real big showcase of their bond between “Any Sport in a Storm” and “Watching and Dreaming” that so much as hints to their relationship. It’s a decent attempt, but it’s another one of those things where I wonder if it’d turn out better if we had more time.

Regardless, it’s still an effective theme. Only a third of the found families here were allowed to have a lot of attention on them, but Camila and Darius were still allowed a chance to prove their loving parents despite not having a lot of time to show it. Familial love isn’t JUST defined by the blood one shares. It’s something experienced the exact same way through adoption or considering someone to be close enough where they might as well be family. Blood’s not all that binds us, and it’s sweet for the show to say that, not only for the kids looking for a new home but also for ones looking for an out from a hostile environment. They WILL get a better life with people who will love them regardless of being related or not. And it’s not just a familial bond you’ll get from people out in the world. Because while you might currently feel alone without anyone there to understand or love you, just know this:

You’ll find your people

This one…really applies to a lot of the characters in the series. One way or another, they each experience a state of loneliness at some point, having no one in their life for a period of time to then having the closest companions and romantic partners that make things…better. These are characters that likely thought they’d never find anyone, but they’ve either now have one person or a group of people that make them feel seen and heard as an individual. And I could go on entire essays about these characters…but this whole sticking thing has gone on long enough, so we’ll lightning round these examples.

Luz was your average nerd that no one understood, with her antics being too weird for anyone to even want to associate themselves with her. That is, until she found herself in a land that’s weirder than her, yet ironically remaining a social outcast due to her being the only human. Yet she still manage to befriend almost every person she met, with all of them showing up to celebrate her birthday. It made Luz go from the loneliest girl in her grade to basically the leader of her own squad of losers and town sweetheart to the lives she saved.

After losing a friendship with Amity, Willow spent a lot of her time all alone and struggling to catch up with others, bullies in particular calling her half-a-witch. But we already established where this led her. She got two personal cheerleaders and a boyfriend that all express how amazing and talented Willow is, having blossomed into the badass she is now. She even repaired things with Amity, making a friendship that’s stronger than it was before.

Older kids used Gus for his intelligence and didn’t respect him for his age. Now he’s the personal cheerleader of a whole group of friends who have his back and value both his input and needs.

Amity may have had “friends” like Boscha and the whole mean girl clique, but it never felt real to her. She was surrounded by people, but never felt more alone until meeting Luz and understanding what real love and friendship felt like. It made Amity want to be better as a person, giving her a chance to rekindle a friendship with Willow and making things better than they’ve ever been.

Hunter had NO friends his age, only having a bird as a companion that he had to keep secret from his controlling, bloodthirsty uncle. It wasn’t until the bird kept pulling Hunter in the right direction did he manage to become friends with a girl who acted like an annoying sister, a new best bro, and a crush turned girlfriend, all inspiring him to stand up Belos and be his own person. And also Amity was there.

Vee had next to NO ONE in her life, and she was a monster in the Boiling Isles that was hunted down by Belos. By coming to the Human Realm, not only did she find peace, but she also found a family, made easy friends, and became part of a group that likely makes her feel a sense of belonging she never experienced before. And you know what? Good for her.

Throughout Hexside, all Eda had was Lilith, which implied that not a lot of students were a fan of her chaos. That is, until she met Raine and finally had someone who both understood her as well as wanting to join the fun.

Speaking of Raine, they were a top student for sure but one that was looked down upon/underestimated due to being a bard witch. Eda was the one who saw their potential and talents, being an easy first friend and eventual girlfriend who brought more excitement to Raine’s life.

It is HEAVILY implied that Camila was a closeted nerd who never had anyone that understood her until meeting Manny. Those two geeks assuredly bonded over their shared interest in Cosmic Frontier, making Camila feel loved and understood by a man that I REALLY wish we got to see in canon. Just one flashback or SOMETHING!

Lilith likely didn’t have any friends in Hexside, though it’s possibly by choice. She focussed more on studying and being better than her sister, with that mindset carrying over to the Emperor’s Coven as she won’t give up unless EVERYONE recognized her for her talents. Friendship took second place to those needs, and, for all we know, means that Hooty is her very first real friend. And that’s sad because…it’s Hooty, but at the same time it makes their friendship all the more beautiful with how much Hooty makes Lilith happy in a time when she felt like there was no one who’d face her let alone like her company.

And finally we have The Collector, who was alone for EONS, wanting to just play games and make friends. The only snag was that he was too powerful and needed a guide, with King stepping up as the role of The Collector’s (forced) best friend. And while the job wasn’t the BEST position, King grew fond of The Collector, making them feel fuller as a person.

Like I said, a LOT of characters felt alone for so long. The good news is that they eventually found those who made life better just through their company alone. And that’s good to teach–GREAT, even. Because it doesn’t matter how long it takes for those who feel so alone. Whether you’re a teenager or even an adult, you’ll find people in your life who will effortlessly make you happy. You just gotta let them in when they find you and allow them to make life better. For some of you, it might be hard to let friends into your life because you feel too damaged beyond repair. And for that, there’s another thing to remember…

Love heals all wounds 

On top of being lonely, a lot of characters tend to be…emotionally broken. At the very least, a lot of them needed a hug more than anything ele. At most, they need a whole new life with people that actually understand the importance of love and kindness. And I…pretty much just speedran my way through most of those characters, as well as thoroughly going over the two biggest examples in this show throughout every part of this dang review series. Amity and Hunter are their best selves now because of the new friends that they made and the families they formed. Most of their baggage, bad behaviors, and worst memories are darn near forgotten due to those in their lives making things better. I’d just be repeating myself to an excessive degree if I went further with these two. They’re the best examples for sure, explicitly showing how much a person can become better off with someone showing them what love feels like. The same goes with, like I said, a LOT of characters on the show. Luz was in a depressive state, one that made her question whether or not people would be better off without her, and was only healed through reassurance and reconfirmation that people loved her and are happy BECAUSE she was in their lives. Eda was a person that pushed away everyone in her life, from families to romantic partners, until she had two kids in her life that gave it meaning and encouraged her to reconnect with those she left behind. And do I even need to explain Vee? The connections we make with people is only important because of the love we share with one another, in a variety of ways. Romantic, platonic, even familial, a person saying “I care” can do wonders to a person’s psyche in ways you don’t even know.I should know. I speak from experience as a person who often felt like no one cares about him or his existence. It means WONDERS whenever I hear someone say they value having me around. Reassurance that you’ll find your people is one thing, but being reminded that the love you get from them is as essential just feels…so right. Because, yeah, of course relationships and love go hand in hand. It’s part of why The Owl House is such a delight to see and why this next and final theme hits so hard. And while I say final theme…it’s really one of the first things the show ever had to say.

“Us weirdos gotta stick together”

On top of being lonely and desiring love, The Owl House is a show of outcasts. As Luz puts it best, they don’t fit in anywhere so they just fit in together. Our main trio, of course, are the primary examples of this. King’s the last of his species with delusions of grandeur that makes him difficult to socialize, Eda’s a criminal wanted by the Emperor for not joining a coven, and Luz was the weird girl in school that became too much to handle. The three of them never really fit in anywhere so they found unity through each other. They’re the only ones who really knew and understood each other better than most people and would go through so much if it meant making one another happy. They were weird, but that’s what kept them united as people who can be their true selves while being…mostly unjudged. There is some teasing and some questionable looks, but it often comes from a place of love as these three would do a lot to make each other feel loved. And it’s not just with their group. 

Luz took Eda’s words to heart, setting out to form a weird little group of her own. She went out to make friends who were social outcasts as well. You have Willow, the powerful girl who couldn’t get good enough with one type of magic, getting ridiculed by both peers and faculty. And Gus, a magical prodigy who is OBSESSED with humans. Both of them get along great with Luz, appreciating her siliness and joining in because it was fun for them. What’s even better is that they’re not the only weird bunch in school. The Detention Track kids also came together, due to a shared “oddity” of wanting to learn more magic by combining different kinds of spells. They went about things the wrong way and were definitely a little too chaotic, but that’s just what kept them all so close together. And “Any Sport in the Storm” showed them making new friends outside of their group, more so with Viney as the episode mostly hints that the same applies to Jerbo and Barcus. Speaking of Viney, though, she managed to become close with Gus, Willow, and surprisingly Skara, all of them sharing an understanding of being underestimated in one way or another. Weirdness tends to attract more weirdness, with The Owl House saying it’s a good thing. It furthers the theme about how you will find your people, with these little groups proving that you’re never too weird for EVERYONE. And, even further, your weirdness can inspire others to let out their inner weirdos. Amity was allowed to be a more of an open nerd, sharing her love of Azura with Luz, and Hunter was allowed to take interests and show off how he enjoys something without worrying about how others judged him. In fact, NONE of these characters worried about how they were judged as people because of the company they keep. Most of them may have been a little odd, but they all felt seen, heard, and appreciated for who they were. But that remains a final question: Who WERE they?

What does the show mean with the word “Weirdo?” What are “weirdos” meant to represent? There’s the obvious answer in saying that it’s meant to be more literal, saying that the show is speaking to anybody that’s more or less odd or goes against the grain, in a way. Although, even then, what does that mean? What counts as weird? Is it weird to be a fan of something you love? Is it weird to be unpopular or to not shine as brighter as others? Is it weird to…love someone…who happens to be the same gender…?

Maybe I’m overreaching, but this is where my mind goes when the show says “weirdos.” It’s a very vague term that can apply to a lot of people who don’t feel like they fit in for a variety of reasons. Stuff like loving a certain thing or loving a certain someone COULD fit into that and it makes the message of sticking together all the more important. Because it’s true, weirdos should stick together. Whether you like it or not, we’re all in the same boat. People will look down at us as if we commit the worst crimes, when all we did was act as our unique selves. We didn’t hurt anybody, we never PLANNED to hurt anybody. We just want to be allowed to exist, and it’s perfectly fine to find unity through that desire of existence. No matter how you’re seen as weird, from who or what you love, to the way that you act, and the way that you talk, you’re allowed to be who you are. We don’t like being judged, so we shouldn’t judge others who just want the same things we do. So unite, because us weirdos have got to stick together.

And that…is that. That’s all the things I figured that The Owl House tried to say to the kids. I may not have gotten EVERYTHING, but these are what stood out to me and they’re the lessons that I love most to have come from the show. If there’s any theme you want discussed, then by all means share. Tell everyone how there’s more to this series that makes it stand out from all the other kids shows with a point. And, more importantly, how it does it well. Because at the end of the day, while the messages can be a little muddled, I wouldn’t say that The Owl House has anything bad to say. At all. Its heart is always in the right place, and that’s what I personally admire most about this series.

Speaking of admiration, I’m running out of things to talk about why I love this show. So, tune in next time for the FINAL PART as I discuss more of what does and doesn’t work with this series as I finally conclude why I love it so much. It’s…likely going to be emotional, so see you then.

[lesbiansanemi]

Was doing so good holding it together today but now that I’m laying down and trying to sleep I’m tearing up and I can feel that I’m about to burst into tears any second now

[kavehater]

I’ll never understand younger siblings whining about their older siblings moving away like I bet yall were nasty and annoying too like wow all those years and you claim to adore the older sibling and post oh woe is me the older sibling abandoned me … girl … the older sibling didn’t have a parental certificate or anything.

[crowrelli]

.

[lilgynt]

i’ve been trying to watch hannibal for like. four days in a row but i’m so sick i just end up sleeping or watching 17 hours of tik toks

[frankmillerturnonyourlocation]

counselor cancelled day-of on me again. sad! well there's other coping mechanisms

[elixandre]

crazy what it feels like right before you faint 😅

also shout out to the very nice lady on the subway when i did faint 😭😭

[no-144444]

slip up- o.piastri (no.81)

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----------

summary: oscar slips up about your marriage.

pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x fem! driver! reader

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“How was your summer break Oscar?” Jack Doohan asked. 

“Yeah, it was good. Visited my wife’s family in Ireland for two weeks. It was beautiful,” he smiled, remembering the happy memories. 

Jack smirked, knowing what he’d just said and didn’t realise. “Feeling ready and rested for today? Ready to beat Verstappen?”

He chuckled. “We’ll see, I guess.”

----------

“So Y/n, how was your summer break?” Will Buxton asked, a smirk on his lips. 

“Yeah all good Osc and I went back to visit family, it was a great holiday. We spent some time in Dublin, in Galway, in Tipperary, in Kerry, yeah. It was gorgeous. We finally got some good weather for once,” you smiled. 

“Do anything special?” He asked, an eyebrow raised. 

“We actually showed his family all around Ireland, and our extended families met for like, the first time which was cool,” you shrugged. “Yeah, Nicole is an avid hiker so we went up Carrauntoohil, which if you don’t know is the tallest mountain in Ireland. Hattie was not a fan,” you chuckled. “Yeah, but it was great, we had a bunch of fun.” 

“Well, that sounds like a lovely break. How are you feeling about today? Worried about the weather and wind?” He asked. 

“No, not really. Obviously Zandvoort is always a very unpredictable circuit in terms of weather, but I kind of grew up with this being the standard for almost every karting race, or just training session. If I’m not used to it by now, I’d feel a bit foolish,” you chuckled. 

“And Oscar, your husband, how do you think he’s feeling?” Will asked, a smirk on his face, knowing that Oscar exposed you two. 

You raised an eyebrow. “My boyfriend,” you corrected. “Is probably fine. He has the fastest car on the grid, and a bunch of talent. I’m not worried.”

“Do you think the McLaren’s will beat you?”

“I’m a realist Will, and I’m not stupid. Obviously they’ll beat us, are you mental?”

“Ok,”  he chuckled. “Thank you for your time.”

“Bye!” you smiled, walking away. 

----------

Nicole called you as you stepped into the McLaren motorhome.  

“Hey Nicole,” you smiled. “How are you?”

“I’d be better if my son wasn’t stupid,” she deadpanned. 

You chuckled. “How is he stupid?” 

“Are you with anyone now?”

“No, just in the McLaren motorhome trying to find your stupid son,” you shrugged. “What’s up?”

“He said you were his wife in an interview,” she sighed and you face-palmed. “Yeah.”

“Fuck’s sake,” you sighed, picking up the pace to try and find him quicker. You went to his driver’s room, the canteen, even Zak Brown’s office as you chatted to Nicole, then ultimately hung up to try and call Oscar. 

He picked up after two rings. “Hey baby, everything alright? I’m looking for you right now and I can’t find you?”

“I’m in the McLaren motorhome,” you told him. “Did you tell someone that we were married?”

“Ummm… I don’t think so? I’m pretty sure I’ve been keeping it under wraps pretty tightly,” he chuckled. “Why?”

“Your mum just called me and told me you said I was your ‘wife’ in an interview, so… yeah,” you explained. 

“Shit,” he whispered. “I’m sorry love, I didn’t mean to- it was a complete accident, I swear-”

“Osc, I’m not mad. To be honest I thought you would’ve been worse, I thought you would’ve accidentally posted the wedding photos or something,” you chuckled. “We should honestly just tell people. Anyways, come meet me, I want to see you.”

��I love you,” he was smiling, you could tell, happy you two didn’t have to hide it anymore. It had been both your ideas to hide the wedding, just to keep it quiet for a while. You asked all the drivers (all of them came), and anyone else within the F1 sphere to not post about anything to do with Ireland. You even went as far as to shut down an entire Terminal in the Dublin Airport to get people in and out inconspicuously. You just wanted your wedding to be yours, no one else's. 

It was gorgeous though, getting married in a manor house on the coast of Galway with all of your closest family and friends was definitely one of the best days of your life. Your ‘honeymoon’ had consisted of showing both your extended families around Ireland, and spending nights watching films and reading books with Oscar by your side. It was relaxing, but not exactly what a honeymoon should be, so you two had a month-long trip to the Maldives planned for the winter. 

Oscar wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed your neck as he hummed a greeting. 

“Well hello to you too,” you chuckled. 

“I have such a gorgeous wife,” he smiled. 

“I have such a gorgeous husband,” you smiled back. You turned around to him and kissed him quickly as a greeting, then you grabbed his hand and led him further into the motorhome. You two walked to his driver’s room, and you sat on the bed as Oscar pulled out his phone. You all sent texts out to various family and drivers, giving them permission to post pictures of your wedding, then shared your own.

"It's out," he turned to you.

You nodded, biting your lip to stop your smile. "It's out."

He smiled bashfully. :you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Ditto," you chuckled and he laughed.

"Ditto?" he gawked. "Baby-"

"I'm kidding," you cupped his cheeks. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me too. I couldn't imagine my life without you, I love you ."

He blushed and leant in, pressing your lips together. "Now..." he smirked. "We can put our rings back on."

You smiled as you both pulled the necklaces that held you rings on them out from around your necks. You had Oscar's, and Oscar had yours. You took it off the chain and pushed it onto his finger, smiling as he did the same to you. Just like your wedding day.

"I'm so glad I married you," you smiled.

"I'm so glad you married me too."

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comments

user5: WTAF

user569: i missed like 13000 chapters, they got married?????

user46: YAY Y/NOSCAR

user72: they're married????

y/npiastri: lando will cry, change the caption :(

-> alexalbon: ok MOM.

-> landonorris: I'm a grown man Y/n

-> y/npiastri: funny, because you don't act like it when you ask me to make you grilled cheese????

-> user37: she ate him up

-> user28: THE USERNAME CHANGE????!!!!!

user72: hey so this is insane.

kikagomez: I'm so normal about them (i cried 13 different times).

-> alexandrast.mleux: same (i didn't stop crying)

lilymhe: my OTP

-> alexalbon: I'll go fuck myself I guess???

-> oscarpiastri: off you go!

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comments

user27: THE DRESS HELLO

user21: she really is the prettiest person on planet earth isn't she?

-> oscarpiastri: Yup :)

-> user21: HOLY SHIT THEY'RE SO CUTE.

nicolepiastri: ❤️❤️❤️❤️

addiepiastri: ❤️❤️❤️

maepiastri: ❤️❤️❤️

chrispiastri: ❤️❤️❤️

user80: the whole piastri family in the comments :)))))

landonorris: she slayed.

-> pierregasly: real.

-> maxverstappen: real.

-> arthurleclerc: real.

-> zhouguanyu: real

-> lancestroll: real.

-> dannielriccardo: real.

->valterribottas: real.

-> lewishamilton: real.

-> nicohulkenberg: real.

-> kmag: real.

-> oscarpiastri: real.

-> georgerusell: real.

->alexalbon: real

-> logansargeant: real.

-> kimiantonelli: real.

->olliebearman: real.

->liamlawson: real.

-> estebanocon: real.

-> yukitsunoda: real.

->checoperez: real

->paularon: real

-> alexdunne: REAL.

-> fernandoalonso: real.

-> charlesleclerc: real.

->carlossainz: real.

-> mickschumacher: real.

-> sebastianvettel: real.

->markwebber: real.

->jensonbutton: real.

->y/npiastri: THANKS GUYS :))))

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comments

logansargeant: diabolical caption

-> landonorris: THANK YOU

-> logansargeant: no ones talking about the bouquet we picked out mate, that's why.

-> landonorris: DOUBLE HOW DARE YOU

y/npiastri: Love you Alex ❤️

oscarpiastri: Thanks Albono

georgerussell: ❤️

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y/npiastri: my love :) ->oscarpiastri: MY love :) -> landonorris: possessiveness kink much? -> y/npiastri: GET OFF YOUR PHONE RIGHT NOW.

zakbrownceo: Adorable -> landonorris: why is bro acting like he was invited 🤣🤣🤣 -> zakbrownceo: why is bro acting like i'll just give him a seat next year 🤣🤣🤣🤣 -> landonorris: 😐

lewishamilton: pretty flowers, wonder who picked them??? -> logansargeant: ME! ->alexalbon: ME! -> landonorris: ME! -> fernandoalonso: ME! -> valtteribottas: ME! -> charlesleclerc: ME! -> georgerussell: ME! -> zhouguanyu: ME! -> lancestroll: ME! -> danielriccardo: ME! -> hattiepiastri: ME! -> addiepiastri: ME! -> maepiastri: ME! -> nicolepiastri: ME! ->kmag: ME! -> nicohulkenberg: ME! ->estebanocon: ME! -> pierregasly: ME! -> yukitsunonda: ME! ----------

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[yueebby]

sooo i read your "indulge me?" piece and that's why i wanted to ask for gojo simping for reader that doesn't really seem him as more as a friend and he's fine with it (lol he's not but he's need to keep the facade you know???) hope you write it at some point! btw loving you writing so far <333

11:34pm — gojo satoru

contents. highschool!gojo, fluff, he’s so in love bye, underage drinking, tokyo and kyoto students have a little get together!

“what’s wrong with him?” utahime watches her white haired underclassman down another can of beer. it was rare to see gojo drinking with the rest of the group, always opting for a soda instead.

shoko takes another swig out of her drink, unsurprised. “[name] is on a date.” 

a pathetic groan leaves gojo’s lips and the upper half of his body is splayed over the kotatsu in shoko’s room, sunglasses long forgotten somewhere. he lets out an unapologetic burp. everyone at the table spares him a glance of pity. 

utahime grimaces and mutters a quiet, “gross”. 

“don’t provoke him,” geto scolds shoko, flicking some ash from his cigarette to the ashtray below. “she’s just dealing with clan matters. arranged marriages and whatnot.” he used his free hand to land a firm pat on gojo’s back. what kind of best friend would he be if he didn’t try to comfort satoru? 

“poor thing. i can keep you company in the meantime,” mei mei’s smile is far from something with good intentions. gojo shakes his head to refuse, but with the way his forehead was pressed to the table, it looked comical. like a child throwing a tantrum. 

the only thing that managed to get gojo satoru out of his drunken slump was a soft knock on the door. he could recognize that pattern anywhere. could it be–? the snow haired boy immediately perks up. his drunk dazed eyes brighten as he quickly makes his way to the door. 

geto snorts at the way his best friend reacts. he thinks he can see an imaginary tail wagging, as if he were a dog. 

“you’re late!” gojo accuses you when he opens the door. you blink.

“are you…okay?” your voice is laced with concern as gojo’s large frame towers over you. gojo preens.

“awww, is my [name] worried about me now? don’t worry, ‘m doing just fine!” there is a goofy grin painted on gojo’s face as he leans against the doorway. all conversation has stopped and every sorcerer was listening attentively to gojo's hopeless conversation with you. utahime can’t help but feel just a little compassion for the boy. he was pining so much it hurt.

“i wasn’t worried. it's just that your words are all slurred– don’t tell me you let shoko talk you into drinking with her again?” you sigh. it was hard to miss the smell of beer on him. gojo and alcohol never mixed well, and the last thing you needed tonight was another lecture from yaga. 

from inside her room, shoko shouts, “it wasn’t me this time! the idiot decided to drown himself in beer after we warned him not to!” it was common knowledge that gojo couldn’t handle his alcohol. 

the male in question pouts.

“can a man not grieve about the love of his life being married to another?” gojo deflates. on the other side of the threshold, you wrinkle your nose.

“who said anything about marriage? like hell i’m going to accept a proposal from naoya zen’in.” you grumble. it had been a long night. dealing with your family and naoya was enough to scare you into staying in jujutsu tech for good. you’d rather lose your sanity to gojo than your dignity to naoya. 

“never mind that though, are mei mei and utahime still here? i was hoping to catch up with them!” you smile, crouching under his arm to make your way into the room. gojo doesn’t hesitate to trail right behind you. 

“[name]!” utahime waves happily at you, her mood no longer sour after she sees you. your wave back is enthusiastic. mei mei acknowledges your presence.

“how was dinner with naoya?” suguru asks. your face pinches up. he laughs before handing you a cold can of soda which you accept graciously.

you hear gojo mutter to himself from behind you.

“what’s up with him?” you whisper to suguru.

“you know how he is when he drinks,” he sighs, ushering you to sit beside him. gojo seemed to have his own agenda though, forcefully squeezing himself between the two of you. you shoot him an annoyed look to which he responds with a grin on his face. 

“‘m tired,” he whines, stretching his arms dramatically while letting out a loud yawn. you grunt when there’s a heavy weight on you; gojo has thrown his entire body on your side.

you don’t bother pushing him off. you’ve learned in the two years you’ve known gojo that he is like a baby when he gets drunk. it’s best if you let him have his way.

“go to sleep then, idiot,” you flick his forehead. he juts his bottom lip childishly, looking up at you with wide eyes. his eyes are captivating and you think you see nervousness through those azure orbs.

“will you come to bed with me too?” he rests his chin on your shoulder. you raise an eyebrow in surprise.

“eh? why would i?”

“because i’m cute.” gojo bats those long eyelashes of his innocently. you roll your eyes playfully before taking another sip out of your soda. 

“you’re weird– that’s what you are.” your lips quirk upward, eyes twinkling with mirth. he sulks, chin still comfortably supported by your shoulder.

“‘m not that bad!” he protests, a frown forming on his lips. you look at him for a long moment. this was the first time you’ve ever gotten to look at gojo this closely. 

his hair was getting longer, you note silently. with your free hand, you slowly move a strand of hair out of his face. gojo watches you earnestly. if his cheeks were not already flushed, they are now. 

“can we stop it with the flirting? let us single folk live in peace.” shoko speaks up. you turn your attention hastily from gojo to the rest of your fellow peers. 

“i feel like i’m intruding on something,” mei mei says scandalously. your eyes widen.

“we are not– no way!” you shake your head repeatedly. no one believes you. especially not while gojo is still resting on your shoulder, eyes watching you, full of love.

“stop giving him all your attention and talk to us! we’re much better company,” utahime scowls, pointing her beer disapprovingly at the white haired boy on you. you think you hear gojo grunt.

“alright, alright,” you concede. 

“i hope you don’t mind me asking again, but do tell us how your night with the zen’in kid went,” suguru snickers. you groan exasperatedly.

“where do i even start?”

the rest of the night goes by pleasantly. you had been so engrossed with retelling your experience with dealing with your family that you had failed to notice what gojo was up to. by the time everyone left their respective dorms (or temporary dorms), you noticed the head of white hair sleeping soundly on your lap.

he mumbles something in his sleep, nuzzling himself closer into your stomach. cute. you giggle at how innocent he looks. 

you don’t know what took over you, but you remember bending down and placing a soft kiss on his forehead. to your surprise, gojo reciprocates your kiss. to the best of his capabilities anyway. you watch as he puckers his lips in his sleep. oh my– how precious.

you suppose he isn't so bad.

notes. THANK U FOR BEING MY FIRST ANON ASK. ily!!! i saw somewhere that gege confirmed gojo would have drunken failures when he was a student haha this is my take on that. hes so bf

also thank you for all the support on my first post?!? you guys are too sweet im crying. i literally giggle and kick my feet reading your feedback ><

[zreamy]

i'll love you forever

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

summary: you were sunghoon's first everything; first friend, first love, and first heartbreak. after years of quietly crushing on you, he was finally ready to confess. so ready to confess, that he told his parents the two of you were already dating! it was an easy enough lie to keep up and he kept it up for months, what could possibly go wrong? he thought. little did he know, you would have a falling out and stop talking for months.. and then, you'd both get invited to spend a week at home with his parents, who still believe you're his girlfriend.

genre: smut, fluff, angst, college au, childhood best friends to lovers, fake dating

warnings: minors dni, fake dating is pretty mild (sorry), she kinda doesn’t rate him at the start, these two kind of exist in a vacuum a little bit idk i had a self-enforced word count to stick to and broke it.. (im within the 10% allowance !), sunghoon in a vest, sunghoon arms, sunghoon

word count: 21,858

playlist: click here.. (for my non-spotify babes, the main song is light by wave to earth (which for some reason i put last.. whatever))

author's note: for silly @asahicore. happy birthday pooks i hope it's amazing and that u enjoy reading this when u have the time !!! LOL (lots of love) also im never writing without telling you things again this was so absurd.

to everyone else.. ok happy reading also emma did not beta read this so im sure it's missing its charm .. anyway it's for emma not you 😭 anyway i hope u enjoy regardless and lmk ur thoughts! omg this is the first fic im nervous about posting.......... please enjoy or else.

In the three years since Park Sunghoon moved away for university, he’d been doing a pretty good job of going home to see his parents. They’d welcome their baby back to the nest with open arms and wide grins. With a rehearsed level of indifference, his younger sister, Yeji, would say, “Oh, I didn’t know you were coming home this weekend.” when she saw him at the dinner table. Sunghoon pretended to only be marginally hurt by this. 

In the last three months, he hasn’t so much as sent a text to his parents. 

Or to you. 

Ignoring texts from his mother is devastating. Between classes, he watches as, “Hi, sweetie, I love you 😍,” turns into, “Missing you, honey, know you must be busy but spare some time for your old mummy, no?” which turns into, “Getting really worried now, are you doing okay? Has something happened with YN? Talk to me, I love you, my baby boy!” 

Ignoring texts from you is easy because texts from you never come. 

Sitting at the end of his bed, Sunghoon rereads a text his mother sent a few minutes ago: Please talk to me, son. Really worried and YN isn’t answering calls either. What’s going on with you two?

When he leaves his room, he finds Jake lying on the couch, and with his keys in hand, Sunghoon says, “I’m going home.” 

And the drive is great! At least, he tells his mum it is. In truth, the drive home without you was nearly impossible. Your ever-expanding home time playlist buzzed through the speakers in his car, but without you there to screech along to the songs, it wasn’t the same. He felt your absence the most when he stopped to get petrol and you weren’t there behind him struggling to carry enough snacks to feed a small family without offering to pay. 

The look of worry on his mum’s face stirs a pit in his stomach. “Why are you so quiet these days? God, you look so tired,” she says, frowning. “Is it school? Or something with YN? It’s not like her not to text back.” Her brows crease as she whispers the word unless. She pulls him into a hug, her chin resting perfectly on his shoulder, and her comforting hand strokes the hair on the back of his head. “Breakups are never easy, honey. I’m so sorry, I know how much you love her.” 

Breakups are never easy. The sentence hangs heavy over his head. 

Whether she knows it or not, she’s handed him a get-out-of-jail-free card, the opportunity to set things straight, to end this mess once and for all. No further questions, and most importantly, no more lies. 

For the first time since he left your flat three months ago, Sunghoon lets himself cry. He’d imagined this moment countless times, his first cry since you ended things. In his mind, it was always intense. Today, as it happens, only a few salty tears leak from his eyes, spilling onto the cuff of his sleeve, darkening the blue cotton in tiny indigo splotches. 

“We didn’t break up,” he says in a small voice—for some reason. “I’m just having a hard time.” Neither statement is technically untrue, but the words taste rotten in his mouth.

The tightening grip of his mum’s arms around his body is what brings on the harsh, shoulder-racking sobs he’d been anticipating. For a while, they stand like this, Sunghoon weeping into his mum’s cardigan until she sends him upstairs to lie down, promising a cup of tea that never comes. 

His childhood bedroom is chilly, so he changes into clothes he left behind and climbs into bed, pulling his duvet up to his chin. He turns his head to look at the walls and the room around him, everything is exactly where he left it in the summer. It should be comforting, but it’s weird to be home without you. 

There are photos of you and him everywhere, growing up and around each other through different stages of life. The two of you together during the summer your family moved in next door, you wore glasses back then and were the first friend he’d made in his life. Sunbathing and sharing earphones at the beach, listening to music together on your iPod classic. Sunghoon in thick glasses with a stiff smile and your arm around him on the first day of high school. Wide grins at the start of this summer, the last time things were okay between you. 

Overwhelmed, he stares up at the ceiling, only realising he’s crying when a hot tear slips from his eyes to tickle his ear. Because Sunghoon likes to upset himself, he screws his eyes shut and thinks about the night before you stopped talking. 

Though he didn’t know it at the time, you’d left Yeonjun’s place to sit with him in a tiny restaurant on campus, the one you’d only visit to toast to each other’s heartbreaks. It had become a ritual — ever since your first year boyfriend dumped you after two weeks — to cry as much as you wanted and drink as much soju as your bodies could handle before stumbling back to your apartments. 

Having spent years suffering from an unrequited crush on his best friend, Sunghoon was always the one to comfort you. But that night was different; you were there to comfort him. It was easy enough to play the part of ‘boy whose crush likes someone else’ because he spent your entire friendship in that role. He’d had no problem accepting his fate, but his composure started to slip when you met Yeonjun. It was the first time you’d dated someone who Sunghoon had reason to be jealous of. In every way, Yeonjun was better than him—taller, funnier, hotter. Sunghoon knew he didn’t stand a chance. He took it personally, you liking Yeonjun instead of him, and let his jealousy consume him from the inside out. 

This jealousy led him to start telling you about Minjeong—lying to you about Minjeong, and his feelings for her. She was a girl from a college out of town that he saw on his Instagram Explore page. He followed her by accident, and by some stroke of luck, she followed back. Sunghoon didn’t really have feelings for her — he didn’t even know her — but she was a girl that you didn’t know, so you wouldn’t be able to meddle. 

It only took a few weeks for Sunghoon to become so upset about your relationship that he couldn’t hide his emotions anymore. So, in a fit of tears, he told you over the phone that things ended badly with Minjeong, and he was in urgent need of a soju ceremony. 

But the night was missing its usual comforts.

It was strange to be the one crying, to see you looking put together and ordering the food. To see you pouring the drinks and raising your glass to propose a toast to ‘Hoonie’s first heartbreak’. You were driving that night, so you only had a tiny sip of soju and let him drink as much as he needed, the way he always did for you, at the same table, in the same restaurant for years. 

Hours later, in your car, you entertained his drunken rambles, though he remembers how your lips were set into a frown that he wanted to kiss away while you gripped the steering wheel like you thought it would run from you. Sunghoon was more drunk than he’d been in a while, drunk enough to let you sling his arm over your shoulders and keep him upright until you reached his flat. 

The voices coming from Yeji’s room disrupt the memory. He’s thankful.

“Your brother’s going through something, so be nice to him this weekend.” His mother’s voice is her version of hushed—a loud whisper. 

Yeji’s response is harder to make out, but he doesn’t miss the way their mum says, “I mean it, missy.” 

A dramatic sigh rumbles through Yeji as she barges into his room without knocking. Sunghoon sits up, feeling an ache in his back and crossing his legs. 

“Mum told me to lay off you today, which is fine, but before I do, I need to tell you something.” 

Yeji pushes the door shut behind her, and the open window makes it slam, both of them flinching from the sudden noise. She pulls her hair out of a silk scrunchie and throws herself on the floor. A pang of irritation forms in his chest, knowing that he could immediately find the empty hanger in his wardrobe where the shirt she’s wearing used to live. 

“I hate you and your perfect golden boy image, Hoon. Would it kill you to fail a class for once? I don’t know how I’m supposed to carry on your legacy.” She’s looking up at him, her chin in her hands and irritation written in the crease between her thick brows. 

It’s impossible to know if it’s because of Yeji’s complete lack of boundaries or the fact that her ‘perfect, golden boy’ big brother is on track to fail three out of three classes and get cut from the hockey team, but Sunghoon immediately bursts into tears. 

“Oh, uh.. I’m sorry?” Yeji offers. “I was kidding if that helps.” 

“I’m alright, it’s okay.” The tears don’t stop stinging his eyes. “Why do you want me to change everything about myself?” 

With a frown, Yeji pours out her frustration and mild resentment. She doesn’t understand how Sunghoon effortlessly conquers every aspect of life while she struggles. Neither do their parents, who had been baffled by her plummeting grades since she moved to boarding school, especially when Sunghoon’s academic performance has only soared since he left for university. The weight of this perceived injustice pulls Sunghoon’s shoulders down with guilt as she talks about the expectations he has inadvertently set for her. 

“But other than that, I’m good.” She shrugs, sitting with her legs out, and leaning back on her palms. “How’s YN?” she asks. It’s clear from the brightness in her voice that she thinks she’s helping. 

Sunghoon cries again. 

Back on campus, he’s trying to scrape together what’s left of his academic career with the help of two of the smartest guys he knows, and their friend Jay. Though the word ‘friend’ feels a little strong at the moment given the way Jay’s goading him. 

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, sitting back in his seat. “There’s nothing you can do that I can’t,” he says, meaning every word. 

Jay scoffs, shrugging and raising his brow in a way that, over the years, Sunghoon knows to interpret as his ‘about to say something ridiculous’ look. “Pretty sure I could call YN right now, and she’d answer.” 

There’s a pit in Sunghoon’s stomach as Heeseung turns his head in the other direction like he’s been slapped, trembling with stifled laughter. At least Jake doesn’t hide his amusement, throwing his head back in a fit of giggles that draw nasty looks from the other students in the library. Sunghoon doesn’t waste his energy trying to argue because Jay’s right.

Now composed, Heeseung turns back to the table, flipping through some of Sunghoon’s course materials to find whatever his class was doing in class that week. The English Literature class he’s taking — The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway — is the same class he had to send a million emails over the summer to get enrolled in, but it’s the same one Heeseung aced two years ago. Lucky for him none of the boys seem to be in the mood to make fun of him for trying so hard to have a class in common with you, and then practically failing out of it before the term had started properly.

“This class is, like, beyond easy, dude.” Heeseung pauses to sniffle and twist the stud in his ear. “Everyone in my class aced it. How are you doing so badly already?” 

“I only took it because YN thought it’d be fun if we had a class together, but.. I kind of haven’t been going since we stopped talking.” Sunghoon shrugs, pretending to be unaffected. 

As if the mere mention of your name has some sort of summoning power, like saying Biggie Smalls in the mirror three times, you appear in his eye line, rounding the corner with a furious stride. Your demeanour crumbles when Jay waves at you, and you grin, waving back, but as soon as you look Sunghoon in the eye again, the rage comes back, and you smack a hand on the table when you reach it, leaning over to him. 

“Sunghoon, a word?” you ask.

He thinks you’re asking, but it’s hard to tell with the way you set your jaw afterwards, and the way the warmth of your signature vanilla scent hits him hard. Dazed, Sunghoon lifts a hand, pointing at himself. “Me?” 

“Does anyone else at the table answer to Sunghoon?” 

“Okay,” he says, somewhat pathetically, nudging Jay for laughing at him. 

As slowly as possible, Sunghoon pushes his chair from the table and stands up, following you to the corner of the references section where only anthropology students in scratchy thrift store knits, and Jay, come to check out encyclopaedias by volume. You look good, save for the rage written all over your face—which, honestly, Sunghoon thinks he likes.

Sunghoon isn’t sure what to expect, so he says, “Hey.” He’s being cautious, waiting a moment to gauge your reaction. “What’s gooooood?” His cheeks burn as soon as he closes his mouth around the vowel, but you laugh. You laugh, and it’s beautiful and happy, and you’re laughing because of him—or at him, but he’s glad either way. 

Annoyance quickly clears all traces of amusement on your face. “Were you ever going to tell me we’re spending next week at Mum and Dad’s?” you ask. 

Sunghoon gasps dramatically, clicking his fingers. “I knew there was something I’ve been meaning to do.” 

His attempt at lightening the mood falls flat, and you only nudge his shoulder gently, sighing. “Can you be serious? For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me?” You’re frowning, crossing your arms over your chest and looking at your feet. “It’s not fair, Sunghoon. For you to keep saying things—making plans involving me and then acting like I’m the bad guy when I turn you down.” 

“I don’t think you’re the bad guy at all,” Sunghoon admits. “If anyone is in the wrong, it’s me, I guess.”

You scoff, looking at him like you hate him. “You guess? Are you serious?” You look furious, but you sound hurt and Sunghoon hates it. Hates himself. “I can’t have this conversation with you right now. Tell mum I’m sick, and it’s contagious.” You roll your eyes and walk away, leaving Sunghoon alone with his thoughts and judgemental stares from students in crochet scarves so long they graze the floor. 

He sighs, slumping against the wall. How does he keep getting it wrong with you? 

Back at the table, Sunghoon manages to act like he’s not falling apart and makes some serious headway on his missing assignments with Heeseung’s help before they call it a day as the sun starts to set. 

When he gets home, he lies down on his bedroom floor, spending hours poring over the conversation you had. Over the minute changes in your facial expression, the tone of your voice, and the endless list of things he should have done, rather than watch you walk away. 

The moment feels familiar, both identical to and worlds apart from what happened after you left three months ago. When he managed to scrape the last shreds of his dignity from the kitchen table, he dragged his feet to his room and lay down like he is now, face to the rug. That day, he left his door open and lay so still that Jake thought he was dead. Sunghoon remembers wishing he had been. 

For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me? The words run on a loop in his mind, over and over, until he can’t remember the order of the sentence or where you put emphasis. They’re cutting all the same. 

Sunghoon sighs into the itchy fibres of his black rug before rolling onto his back. In the diminishing purple light of the setting sun. he looks at the walls of his room. At the Fleetwood Mac poster, he stole from Jay when they moved out of their first year dorm, that curls away from the wall towards the ceiling—a diagonal strip of shiny tape being the only indication of the otherwise invisible tear through the face of Stevie Nicks. 

He’s glad when his phone rings, cutting through the quiet, though the sight of your name and the anatomical heart emoji next to it only dampens his spirit. Reluctantly, Sunghoon answers the phone, holding it to his ear. 

“I just got off the phone with Dad..” You trail off. Tangible silence follows, so thick it weighs on his chest. “I’ll go home with you.” 

“You will?” 

“Yes. Goodbye.” 

Sunghoon reaches your flat at five in the evening. You don’t smile when you open the door for him, nor do you invite him in. Instead, you dump your bag at your feet and he cringes, looking from the floor to you. You’re aggressively beautiful and cosy-looking as you pull a jacket over the sweater you wore that night. Sunghoon’s heart aches in his chest and he wonders if you even realise. Suddenly, the memory of the last thing you said the morning after hits him like a truck: Then let’s not be friends at all. 

A familiar weight lands on his shoulder—your hand. Concern lines your eyes as you ask if he’s okay. 

With a lump in his throat, Sunghoon nods. 

In the discomfort of his car, the two of you sit in silence while he starts the drive home. 

“How’s Yeonjun,” he asks, eyes flicking towards you but regretting it immediately when he sees how you clench your jaw. 

“No,” you say simply, shaking your head. “You don’t get to ask me about him.” 

These are the only words you exchange until Sunghoon stops for petrol. He has enough fuel for the rest of the journey, but he feels like dying and thinks the fresh air might quell his thoughts of running his car off the road. Like always, the two of you get out and head into the kiosk, where he follows you wordlessly through the aisles, watching you debate on snack choices before settling on the same things you always get. Sunghoon pays for your snacks and you roll your eyes but don’t protest, mumbling thanks as you take them into your arms, leading the way back outside.

He knows he needs to tell you before you reach the house, but he’s not entirely sure how to say it—so he just does. “My, uh.. my parents think we’re dating.”

You stop so suddenly in front of him that he almost bumps into you. Stepping around you, Sunghoon keeps walking. 

Over the top of his car, he watches your face cycle through all five stages of grief until anger comes back around in the loop as you scoff. “Why do they think that?” Your face is devoid of expression now, the blankness over your features dragging a sharp chill over his spine. 

He stares blankly at you, processing. “Because I told them we’re dating,” he mumbles. 

“Why did you.. do that?” You tilt your head, eyes pressing shut in a long blink. “What are you even talking about? Why did you.. What?” 

A thin layer of sweat coats his palms despite the cold. Why did he do that? “We can stage a breakup during the trip or say we broke up right now,” Sunghoon offers. “Just one night, YN, please.” 

The wind whistles by, ruffling your hair and jacket that you hug tightly to your chest. Behind you, Sunghoon takes note of the group of girls standing by the pumps, all five of them jerking their heads abruptly when they notice him watching, suddenly finding interest in the scattered litter and flickering halogen bulbs in the steel canopy over their heads. 

You’re staring when he looks back at you, nostrils twitching with a sniffle before you sigh. “Or we could say that you’re a liar and end things there,” you say. “Or better yet, you go down there on your own and tell them the truth.”

Sunghoon’s gaze drops, his thoughts racing in his mind. He knows you’re right. At some point, his parents will have to find out, and it’d be better for them to find out now. Sunghoon sighs, nodding. “Alright,” he concedes. “I’ll take you back.”

An angry laugh comes out of you as you shake your head. “No need, I’ll walk.” 

The station you’re at is neatly nestled in the middle of nowhere, on a road so narrow he’s not even sure it has a pavement. You’re halfway through the three-hour drive, so there’s no telling how long the walk would be, never mind the fact that the sun is already setting and it’s deep enough into October for the wind to sting. 

“From here?” he asks, incredulous. 

“Yes, open the boot so I can get my bag.” 

Sunghoon can only bring himself to say your name, a desperate whisper. 

“Open the boot.”

He repeats your name as if it’ll make a difference, he’s pleading with you, begging—though he doesn’t know for what. 

You go to the back of his car where Sunghoon joins you, a pit in his stomach when you step away. With misty eyes, you look up at him and his heart breaks. “Please.”

Sunghoon knows you well enough to know that you’re not actually going to attempt the walk home but also knows that you won’t back down if he keeps challenging you. He nods, opening the boot for you and getting into the driver’s seat—your move. 

You stand there, unmoving, and long enough passes that he thinks you’ll actually leave. The boot closes softly and you join him in the passenger seat. You sigh, buckling your seatbelt. “Let’s just get this over with.” 

For the rest of the journey, you sit in silence as Sunghoon briefs you on the relationship, fighting a smile as he thinks about being your boyfriend—even if only for a night. You scoff when he ‘reminds’ you that you’ve been together for four months now and the only reason you haven’t been able to come home recently is that your schedules don’t match up very well anymore—which couldn’t be further from the truth as, before term started, you went out to celebrate the fact that your class schedules couldn’t be more suited for seeing each other. 

Finally, at Sunghoon’s childhood home, the two of you smile and laugh for his parents before going to bed. Your relationship has only made his mother more averse to the idea of you sharing a room under her roof than she had been when you were younger. He’s relieved about this, and in the solitude of his bedroom, he lies on the duvet of his twin bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about the last few hours. 

With his parents, you’d sat up in the living room watching TV. They sat on the couch together, his mum nestled in his dad’s side, while you two sat on the couch opposite, mirroring their position. If your complete stiffness was anything to go by, you were less than comfortable with his arm around you and Sunghoon felt terrible for begging you to go along with this. It was after midnight when you all went upstairs and you let him kiss your forehead before all but slamming the door to the guest room in his face. His heart twirled and his mum beamed at him before saying goodnight again. 

Now, at 3 a.m. he can’t sleep. Flinching at the knock on his door, he furrows his brows and goes to open it. It’s you. Standing there with your hair scraped away from your face in one of his t-shirts. Your eyes are red, brimmed with tears as you step into his room and sit on his bed. 

He closes the door softly, heart aching at the sight of you so upset, and when he sits next to you, his heart tears apart because you move over, putting a distance between you. It falls out of his chest onto the floor when he realises you’re not wearing your necklace. 

Sunghoon suspected you might have stopped wearing it, it only made sense that if you didn’t want him, you wouldn’t want the necklace he bought for you either, but at least earlier, your sweatshirt sat so high he couldn’t see if you had it on or not. 

It was a gift for your sixteenth birthday, after your first heartbreak. He was so upset and angry that you let some loser hurt you that way, upset and angry that someone could be loved by you and fuck it up. Sunghoon was inspired by Jay, who’d gotten a pretty necklace for his girlfriend, and talked about her cute reaction for weeks, how happy she was to have a piece of him with her all the time. It was a locket, with a picture of Jay in one side and a picture of her in the other so the pictures would kiss when she wore it. 

While at the jewellers with Jake, Sunghoon thought something like that might be a bit much for the two of you and eventually picked out an equally pretty piece with his first initial on it. He wrote a corny note to put in the box, something about how ‘boys come and go but Sunghoon is forever’ and gave it to you with trembling hands a few nights later—it was the first time he ever made you cry. Immediately, he thought he’d done something wrong and was ready to snatch the box and run back to the jewellers (even though he trashed the receipt). You hugged him and told him you loved him. Sunghoon’s been riding that high ever since. 

Until tonight at least. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers. 

“I’ll do it, Hoon.” Your eyes lift from the floor to meet his gaze. “For as long as you need me to, I’ll pretend.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Sunghoon feels lighter, an unbearable weight slipping from his shoulders. You haven’t called him ‘Hoon’ in ages, and he can’t tell if you’ve said it out of vulnerability, or even noticed that you’ve said it at all, but it warms his heart nonetheless. However, he’s not fully at ease, still curious about your sudden change of heart and why you’re crying. 

“What happened?”

You pull him into a hug, and his eyes bulge out of his head. “It doesn’t matter,” you say, the words muffled by the skin at the base of his neck. 

For as long as he’s known you, you’ve smelled like vanilla, a sweet warmth that grounds him. Yet it’s only after these months apart that he’s able to put a name to the sensation: home. The realisation of how much he’s missed this feeling, missed you, floods him with a rush of emotion so overwhelming he can’t find the words to press the issue. A moment passes before he remembers to hug you back, his arms finally wrapping around you, pulling you close, and you sink into his hold. Months ago, he would have kissed the top of your head and mumbled reassurance into your hair, but tonight, Sunghoon settles for stroking the back of your head and hopes it’s enough. 

“You can talk to me, you know? You can always talk to me.”

A heavy silence follows, sharp as a dagger—scraping his skin, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge and lodging itself between his shoulder blades. Sunghoon’s breath hitches in his throat when you cling onto him even tighter, shifting so close you’ve had to settle in his lap. His heart races in his chest, pounding a rhythm so loud it fills the room. 

Finally, you speak, assuring him that you know and that you’re okay. At this, Sunghoon holds you as tight as he can, and neither of you speaks for the rest of the night. You fall asleep like this, in his arms, so deeply that you don’t even stir when he lies down. 

Rubbing your back, he watches the clock on his nightstand, the piercing green LED digits cycling through two whole hours right before his stinging eyes until you wake up. Sunghoon presses his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep when you kiss his cheek and leave his room. 

For the entire morning, you stay in your room, and although Sunghoon is concerned, he decides not to bother you. In the afternoon, he sits at the dining table with his mum, listening as she talks about work. When she asks him, he gets up to make a cup of tea for her. It’s at that moment when you finally come downstairs, looking so effortlessly pretty. Your hair is still damp from the shower, and you’re bundled up in one of his old sweatshirts. There’s a bright grin on your face that leaves his heart thudding. 

“Baby!” you squeal when you see him, charging towards him and wrapping your arms around him from behind. “Good morning.” Your words are muffled against the back of his t-shirt, and the four-letter word, and the sugar coating it, make his cheeks burn. 

“It’s great to see you too, YN,” his mum says with a smile. “My night was amazing; I slept very well and had no dreams.” 

You let go of Sunghoon and walk over to the table, kissing his mum on the cheek and wishing her a good morning as well. “Sorry, mum, how are you?” 

His mother doesn’t seem to have the heart to correct you either, allowing your 3 p.m. ‘good morning’ to go unnoticed. 

Sunghoon carefully fills both mugs to the brim and, with extra caution, carries them to the table. He places a steaming cup of peppermint tea in front of his mum and a milky coffee in front of you. A warm smile spreads across your face as you mouth a ‘thank you’, and his knees turn to jelly. 

The next day, after eating an early dinner with his parents at the table, the four of you go out on a walk along the bike path you used to take for school. His parents have gone ahead, not intentionally, but because Sunghoon can’t stop you from dragging your feet. 

As with most things in the town where you grew up, nothing about the trail has changed. The leaves are yellowing in standard form for the season, and crunching under his feet with each step he takes. The only foreign experience is the silence that you’re determined to uphold. Everything Sunghoon says to you is met with either a hum, a nod, or no acknowledgement at all. At this point, he feels like he could drop dead at your side and the most you’d do is step over his body like a fallen branch. 

After letting you go ahead, the weathered slats of the wooden footbridge sag in the middle under his tread. It’s been like this for as long as he can remember and he wonders how nothing has been done about it. The stream rushes under it, loud and unruly, the smell of wet grass both comforting and suffocating as you look over the railing. It’s like something from a postcard, the low-hanging branches sweeping back and forth under the breeze, the grass lush and green around the path, murky water thrashing against the mud and rocks underneath with you in the middle of the frame, peering over the edge.

You keep walking when Sunghoon approaches, leaving him alone on the creaky bridge with nothing but the ache in his chest. He looks up, staring at the grey clouds in the sky through the gaps in the leaves, and sighs. 

Eventually, he catches up with you, grabbing your hand and locking his fingers with yours when his parents slow down. You stiffen, looking up at him with cut eyes and a creased brow. “What are you doing?”

Sunghoon matches your clipped tone. “Holding my girlfriend’s hand.” 

“No one’s looking, boyfriend.”

“You think my parents aren’t going to wonder why we’re lagging behind?” 

A scoff—your fingers remain defiantly stiff. “Do you think your parents are going to care whether or not we’re holding hands?” 

“My mum might after the show you put on yesterday afternoon, baby.” Bitterness covers the word like a blanket, a stark departure from how you said it. 

A long sigh rumbles its way out of you before you fix your lips into a strained grin. “Sorry, sweetheart, this is my first time pretending to be in love.” 

As your words hang in the air, Sunghoon’s emotions brew like a storm within him. Frustration gnaws at his patience. All hopes for a smooth week are dashed, though determination simmers in his chest with a strong resolve to make this work, to fix your relationship. It doesn’t stop the sharp pang of hurt piercing his stomach—he knows you don’t feel the same way, he knows you’re faking, but the word ‘pretending’ hits him like a truck anyway. 

“We held hands all the time when we were friends,” he points out.

Your smile drops immediately, hurt flashing behind your eyes. “Yeah, and now we’re not.” 

If there was a competition for who could hurt Sunghoon’s feelings the most, you’d be a shoo-in for first place. With distinction. 

“Exactly!” he says, feeling the sting of his own words. “Because now we’re dating.”

At the sight of his mum turning around, you switch up in an instant. Lock your fingers with his, wrapping an arm around his bicep, leaning into him, giggling. It’s forced but his parents are far enough away that all that matters is the curve of your lips.

“You two okay back there?” she asks. 

“Perfect! I feel like a kid again!” you call back, beaming up at Sunghoon in a way that makes his stomach flutter even though it doesn’t meet your eyes. 

The two of you don’t talk at all when you get home, with you hugging his parents goodnight and running up the stairs. 

“She’s not feeling too well,” he explains, nodding when his dad tells him to make you some tea. 

His parents spend the whole day at work, and you spend the whole day following him around like a shadow until the evening when they return. He doesn’t pretend not to like it.

Sunghoon helps you make dinner, turning leftover rice into fried rice with the help of some eggs and vegetables. It’s nice moving around the kitchen with you, watching you scramble eggs in his t-shirt and bump his hip with a playful frown when he eats some of the peppers you’re chopping. 

His parents watch from the table, cooing over the two of you and he does his best to fight the blush forming on his cheeks and neck. Embarrassed, he hugs you from behind, hiding his face in your neck—the scent of your coconut conditioner mixing with your vanilla perfume doesn’t do anything to stop the flush. 

Over a bottle of wine, the four of you eat together at the table, swapping stories about your days. Sunghoon tries to hide his surprise as you lie about the time you spent at the play park by your primary school, competing for height on the swings and spinning on the roundabout until you couldn’t stand up. You grin at him, and it meets your eyes as you hold his hand under the table, and kiss his cheek.

After eating, his parents head upstairs, leaving to clean up together. You hum a song he’s never heard as you load the dishwasher, carefully placing the plates and cutlery in the rack, shaking your head when he hands you the glasses you’d used. 

“Leave ours,” you say. “If you want.” 

Sunghoon nods, putting them back on the table, where you sit in the seat across from the one he was sitting in. He sits too, staying quiet rather than saying the wrong thing. You don’t speak either. It’s reminiscent of the past—the hours you’d spend in the same room, only speaking to share a funny post you’d come across or to ask if you were hungry. 

His eyes track your movements—reaching for the half-empty bottle on the table to pour yourself another glass, filling it to the brim. Before putting it down, you offer him some, filling his glass too when he nods. The three glasses of wine he’s already had must be the reason he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand, run his thumb over the soft skin on the back of it. 

Sunghoon doesn’t know why you’ve been so nice to him all day or why it makes his chest hurt. 

“You know you don’t have to be nice to me when we’re alone, right?” The words come out before he can stop them.

Over the top of your glass, your brows knit together. A sound of confusion, a low hum, comes from your throat as you try to finish your sip. “What?” you ask finally. 

“I only asked you to do this because of my parents, you know? You don’t have to sit or talk with me when they’re not around.” 

Sunghoon’s known you long enough to recognise the look that flashes across your face. The way your eyes narrow and your brows tug together, the little pout that sets on your lips before you speak; you’re hurt.

“Why can’t I just be nice to you because it’s the right thing to do?” 

Because it hurts, is what he wants to say. He wants to cry, to beg you to forget everything he said that day. “Because I don’t want to make you any more uncomfortable than I already have.” Is what he settles for. 

Your face softens. “I don’t feel uncomfortable around you, Hoon. We were best friends for ages, I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable.” You pause to take a gulp of wine. “Why can’t I just want to be nice to you?” 

Sunghoon has to chew on his cheek to distract himself from how much your word choice stings. The implications of were and all of your past tense. “I’m sorry,” he says. 

“What for?” 

“Everything.” 

There’s a sadness in the way you run your fingers on the base of your glass. The way you chew on your lip, how your hair falls when you tilt your head and how it moves when you shake it. “It’s not your fault,” you say. “I don’t know anyone who would choose to have unrequited feelings for their best friend.” 

Wow, he thinks. You’re on a roll. Sunghoon wonders if you’re meticulously choosing your phrasing to upset him. Wonders why you feel the need to remind him that his feelings aren’t reciprocated as if he didn’t live through and spend hours reliving the day he confessed. 

“But I didn’t have to tell you about it. It was unfair of me to spring that on you when I knew about Yeonjun.” 

“Did you.. did you think I was going to leave him for you?” 

“Maybe?” Sunghoon chews on his lip—he has no idea what he thought would happen. “I think I thought I loved you enough for both of us, that you might play the part for fun or out of curiosity, and.. I don’t know, just learn to love me.”

“Hoon,” you whisper, frowning. “How could you even think about settling for something like that?” 

Sunghoon shrugs. “It’s not settling if it’s you.” 

Silence takes a seat at the table after he speaks, interrupted only by the ticking clock on the wall—a glittery mess of scrapbooking paper and washi tape layered over each other that Yeji had decorated at summer camp years ago. You’re picking at your fingernails, letting flecks of black polish fall to the table, stark against the varnished oak. 

“I know it’s not my place to ask,” Sunghoon starts after a while, hesitant and only continuing when you nod. “But what did Yeonjun say when you told him? About.. everything?” 

You take a long sip from your glass and sit quietly for so long that he thinks you’re not going to answer him—he doesn’t blame you. 

“I didn’t.” 

He waits for you to elaborate. You don’t. 

Sunghoon nods slowly, deciding not to ask any follow-up questions. Instead, he takes another drink, scrunching his nose at the bitter taste. “He didn’t ask why we stopped hanging out?” he blurts out.

“I told him we fell out but I didn’t say why.” You shrug, but your posture is stiff. 

“Where did you tell him you were going to be this week?” He knows it’s not his business at all, that he’s pushing your boundaries, but he can’t help his curiosity.

“Nowhere.” 

“You told him you were staying on campus?” 

“I didn’t tell him anything.” Your gaze shifts, avoiding his as you toy with the stem of your glass. You drum your nails against it, letting the dull clink ring out. 

“So you just left?” 

“Does it make a difference to you?” 

Sunghoon nods.

For a while, you tug at the drawstrings on your hoodie, pursing your lips to the side, considering this. “Yeonjun and I aren’t together anymore.” Your admission is so shocking that Sunghoon’s jaw drops. He tries to cover his surprise by coughing, his tongue sticking out like a small child. “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want you to think it was because of you.” 

Sunghoon’s thoughts move at lightspeed, too fast for him to catch onto any of them and process this information. His emotions compete with each other—disbelief, guilt, and a painful glimmer of hope he hadn’t dared to acknowledge until now all at the forefront. 

“Was it?” he asks. “Because of me?” 

You scoff—an incredulous sound that doesn’t match the sad look on your face. “I don’t know, Sunghoon. Do you think my boyfriend used me to make his ex jealous because of you?”

He’s not sure what he expected you to say, but this is.. Complete disbelief eclipses him as his heart sinks in his chest, shock, and guilt bubbling in his stomach. 

“I’m sorry,” he says after too long. “That I wasn’t there. That I haven’t been there.” 

“You didn’t know,” you say, gaze softening as you look up at him. 

“But I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it.” 

You shake your head. “I made me feel like I couldn’t talk to you about it. All you did was change the friendship, I’m the one who ended it.”

“I still should’ve been there.” 

“You’re here now, right?” 

Sunghoon nods, earnestly. “Always.” 

Only one thing comes to mind when you repeat the word ‘always’ before taking a sip from your glass, downing its contents. Sunghoon gets up and crosses the room with wobbly steps to open the fridge, where he pulls out as many bottles of soju as he can hold in his hands and puts them down on the table. He goes back to collect some glasses from the cabinet, puts some of the leftover fried rice from dinner into the microwave, and brings it all over when it’s done, with bowls and utensils. You watch him with a fond smile as he opens a bottle and he hopes you think the flush on his cheeks is from all the drinking you’ve been doing. 

“Is it bad that I’ve missed doing this?” You’re grinning now.

Sunghoon shakes his head, raising his glass. “To YN’s fifteenth heartbreak.” 

You grin, clinking the rim of your glass against his. “To YN’s fifteenth heartbreak,” you repeat. 

Both of you down the glasses, and Sunghoon refills them, pouring the soju with an oddly steady hand. As you eat spoonfuls of rice and sip your drinks, silence settles over the room. The soft glow of the kitchen lights forms a warm ambience, a cosy familiarity that brings up simple memories—doing homework together at the table while gossiping about your classmates, the first New Year after you were both eighteen and had your first drink with his parents. 

For at least an hour, the only sounds are the occasional clinks of forks against bowls, glasses hitting the table, the faint hum of the refrigerator and the steady tick of Yeji’s clock. Sunghoon’s eyes meet yours, and he can’t help but notice the slight change in your expression when they do. 

You clear your throat, running a hand through your hair. “This is my sixteenth, actually.” 

“What?” 

You take a small sip of soju, staring down at the table. “My fifteenth heartbreak was losing you. Yeonjun is my sixteenth.”

In the two days since your soju ceremony, Sunghoon finds himself sinking into the role of your boyfriend like a hot bath. But there’s no use pretending it doesn’t hurt. Pretending it doesn’t hurt when you kiss his cheek before bed, or when you reach out to push the hair out of his face or snuggle into his side on the couch; because it does hurt—a lot. It hurts to think that in three days when you put your bags in the boot of his car, you’ll sit in silence all the way home. When he drops you off at your flat, you’ll close the door in his face and stop talking to him again. These realisations are harder to confront when he’s alone in his room, like now. 

About an hour ago, you asked if you could borrow his car, saying there was something you needed to do on your own. It seemed important, so he handed over his keys with no question. Sighing, Sunghoon gets up from his bed and heads to the shower, where he jerks off to clear his mind. On his way back to his room, he notices the light leaking from the open kitchen door that illuminates the landing. 

He hears the lock on the front door clicking, and stands at the top of the stairs, dripping water onto the carpet while listening attentively. His ears perk up when he hears a gasp—his mother. 

“What’s this for?” she asks. 

“I just..” You trail off. “I know it’s not much, but I wanted to thank you both for always looking after me.” You pause, and Sunghoon holds his breath, waiting. Your voice trembles as you continue. “It’s been hard since my parents went back home, and I guess it was still hard when they were here, but you both supported me. I don’t think I could’ve managed without you guys. I want to make you guys proud, you know? And I’m trying, really, so this is me saying thank you. I’m sorry it took me so long.” 

He grips the railing by the landing, digging his nails into the wood until they start hurting—an ache in his fingertips that makes him wince. 

An odd feeling settles in his stomach, a bittersweetness tinged in his fondness for you, and the gentle shock of realising how much his parents have done for you. Growing up, you became an honorary member of Sunghoon’s family. His parents showered you with gifts during holidays and birthdays, which you often celebrated with them rather than your own family. 

The memory of your parents’ sudden decision to move across the country still lingers, and Sunghoon vividly recalls the tearful conversation he overheard at the top of the stairs. Your parents understood the enormity of their request but had earnestly asked if Sunghoon’s parents could continue looking after you. 

His chest tightens when you start crying. 

“You don’t have to thank us for anything, sweetie. Just you being here and taking care of our boy is more than enough thanks. You never forget our birthdays, and you always come and visit when you can. You’re doing a great job, and you should give yourself some credit,” his dad says, a little choked up. “We’ve always been proud of you.” 

Sunghoon’s eyes sting with tears and his skin gets dry in the spots where the water from the shower is evaporating. He presses his fingers to his closed eyes, forcing a few tears to fall and walks the rest of the way to his room with his eyes shut. He can’t hear anything through his closed bedroom door, which he decides is a good thing as he coats himself in moisturiser and swipes deodorant under his arms with intention to spend the whole night alone. Once he’s dressed, he gets into bed and pretends not to be bothered by the way his wet hair dampens his pillow. Under the duvet, he tosses and turns before sighing and heading to Yeji’s room.

In her absence, the room’s subtle transformation is stark. The sage green-painted walls, once a backdrop to the A3 faces of Wave to Earth and Beabadoobee, now bear the faint imprints of those missing posters. Tiny, shadowy rectangles are the only remnants of the 6x4-sized pictures of her and her friends, of her and Sunghoon, that she took away with her to school.

Her hairdryer is still on her desk where she’d left it for him to use and he sits in her stiff wooden chair, plugging it in. The airflow starts immediately, hot and loud, humming throughout the space as he runs his fingers through his wet hair, feeling cosy under the heat. His shampoo is fresh and soapy scented under his nose, and his reflection watches him in Yeji’s mirror, eyes red and concerned while his hair blows around his head. Sunghoon closes his eyes and finishes his hair, sighing as he lets his worries slip under the whir of the fan. 

Finished, he shuts off the dryer and opens his eyes, flinching at your reflection in the doorway behind him with a soft smile on your face. “Mum and Dad are going to open a bottle of wine if you want to join,” you say, meeting his eyes in the mirror. 

Sunghoon can’t find it in himself to speak, only nodding in response. You smile wider but don’t move. He unplugs the hairdryer and leaves it on the desk where he found it before crossing the room. Without giving himself a chance to think about it, he pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head, smiling into your hair when you wrap your arms around his waist, holding him closer. 

You’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub, mumbling sleepily that you’re never going to drink again, and Sunghoon leans over the sink brushing his teeth, he’s glad you have the decency to cover your mouth as you speak. 

“Brush your teeth and go back to sleep then,” he mumbles around his toothbrush. 

You don’t respond. 

Sunghoon sighs through his nose, spitting foamy toothpaste into the sink, leaving bubbly, blue splatters on the porcelain. “And quit staring at me, I can feel your beady little eyes on the back of my neck and it’s freaking me out.” 

“But you’re so pretty,” you coo. 

There’s a flutter in his stomach and he rinses off the sink and his mouth, buying himself some time. With a hand on the Listerine, he lifts his gaze to meet yours in the mirror and stops short. You’re still staring at him, features soft and glowing under the afternoon light. You look like an angel; a gentle smile spreading over your lips, and a sleepy glint sparkling in your eyes, wide and gorgeous as you watch him. Sunghoon gulps, mumbling his thanks and looking back at himself. He hopes you can’t see the flush on his cheeks. 

“Go back to sleep,” he says. 

“Will you come and lie down with me if I do?” Your voice is a sleepy drawl, coming out in a slow, high-pitched slur, and your eyes are closing on themselves. 

Lying down doesn’t sound like a terrible idea, especially not if it’s with you, so he nods. “If you brush your teeth, then yeah, baby, I’ll lie down with you.” 

You chuckle softly at Sunghoon’s agreement, the sound carrying a mix of exhaustion and genuine amusement, showing no repulsion to him calling you the B-word. He didn’t mean to, it’s been a confusing few days. You nod, saluting to him and getting up to join him by the sink, using your hip to bump him out of the way, but he feels like he’s glued to the spot. 

“Move, baby,” you mumble sleepily, reaching for your toothbrush. “We can cuddle in my bed,” you suggest, to which Sunghoon only nods, taking your words as a cue to unstick his feet from the floor and go to your room, playing the word ‘baby’ on a loop in his head. 

He stands in the doorway staring at your bed, the duvet is all crumpled in the middle, and the pillows are in an L shape at the top corner. He sighs, he can’t go on like this, can’t stand around hoping even a tiny part of you called him ‘baby’ and it meant something for you as it did for him. It’s not fair for him to project his feelings on you like this, but he can’t help it. You’re already pretending for his parents, so would it be so bad to pretend for his sake as well? Even if only until the day after tomorrow when you leave? 

The sound of the bathroom door shutting behind you snaps him out of his thoughts, your bright smile making his heart race when you tug him by the sleeve to your bed where the mattress dips underneath you as you curl into his form, resting your head on his chest and falling asleep. You’ve shared the bed before, countless times, but he knows you’ve only asked him because you’re tired. Because your brain is foggy with drowsiness that clouds your judgement, not because you want him there, not because you miss him when he’s two doors down the hall, tossing and turning at night thinking about you. He wonders absently if you can feel his aching heart beating through his chest, a painful, yet all too familiar rhythm that pulls his own eyes shut, plunging him into a deep sleep too.

It’s dark in the room when he wakes up, the sun already down behind the curtains and the soft yellow of the bedside lamp casting a glow around the space. You’re staring up at him, smiling and you don’t look away when he catches you. “What is it?” he asks, voice thick with sleep. 

“Nothing,” you mumble. “I just missed you.” Sunghoon has no time to respond or even register what you said before you clear your throat, speaking again.  “Come on, dad’s cooking tonight, he’ll need help.” 

Helping Sunghoon’s dad with dinner always looks an awful lot like Sunghoon eating snacks on the kitchen counter and staring at you as you help his dad cook. Tonight is no exception, he’s sitting on the island, and his snack of choice is a family pack of Chilli Heatwave Doritos his mum bought for Yeji. He’ll have to remember to replace them before leaving seeing as he’s reaching the halfway point. 

You go back and forth with his dad about measurements, with you rummaging through the drawers for measuring cups while his dad says it’s best to trust your gut. Reluctantly, you nod, chewing the inside of your cheek as you watch him eyeball the seasoning. 

The gas stove turns the kitchen into an oven, and you complain about it while opening a window, pulling your hoodie over your head and leaving it in Sunghoon’s lap. Time stops when you grin at him, the light from the stove hood illuminating the necklace you’re wearing, his initial resting on your chest and glowing under the light. He chokes around a crisp when he sees it, catching your attention with his coughing. 

“You’ll spoil your dinner, snacking like that, baby,” you scold, using a hand to push his knee. “We’re almost done, I swear.” 

All he can do is nod, cheeks burning as he folds the crisp packet over before putting it back in the bread bin where he found it. 

“Wow,” his dad says, resting his hands on his hips and shaking his head in amusement. “Being in love looks good on him, he’d never have listened if I said that.” 

It’s already your last day when Sunghoon picks up Yeji from school. She grumbles for the entire half-hour drive and all the way to the front door about why the two of you couldn’t have started the trip today instead of ending it, but all of her irritation dissolves when she sees you in the hallway, leaving the front door wide open to fling her arms around you. You and Yeji exchange compliments for a while — You look so pretty. No, you look so pretty. I love your hair. I love your hair. — as Sunghoon locks the door and watches with a smile.

“God.” Yeji sighs, holding you by the waist and craning her neck up to look at you, as you push some of her hair from her face, pinning back her wispy bangs with the palm of your hand. Yeji giggles. “I’m so happy you two are together, even though I have no idea what a girl like you sees in my loser brother.” 

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, leaning back against the wall. Despite his mild irritation at Yeji’s words, he finds the sight of you with her so adorable his stomach flutters. Over the top of Yeji’s head, you look at him with a fond smile. “He’s not so bad.” 

It doesn’t sound like a compliment, but Sunghoon takes it to heart. 

Like always, Yeji manages to capture your undivided attention and the two of you giggle and whisper with each other all afternoon while Sunghoon watches, too enamoured by the sight to care about being left out. An hour or so passes like this, until his parents get home from work, excited to see Yeji after a few weeks, and you leave her side, coming to cuddle with Sunghoon instead. 

It’s nice being home with everyone, laughing and sharing a meal before his family walks the two of you to his car with at least a month’s worth of cooked food for you to share at university. Yeji makes you pinky promise that she can visit you and waves with a pout on her face until the car is out of view.

Contrary to what he’d been expecting, the drive back is nice. Your playlist is on, and you’re telling him about all the new songs you added, catching him up on things with Chaewon and Yunjin, and all the things you got up to in the time you spent apart. You tell him about a new café that opened up near your place and how you’ll have to go together when he has the time, and Sunghoon bites his tongue before telling you that he always has time for you. The first half of the trip goes on like this but you start dozing off around the halfway mark, your sentences becoming few and far between, eventually turning into half-mumbled thoughts that end prematurely. 

You’re still asleep when he reaches your flat, head propped up against the window with your soft lips parted, looking too pretty and cosy to wake up. Instead, he drives in circles around your block, deciding to wait for you to wake up on your own. It only takes a half-hour but you blink your eyes open, stretching your neck before looking around and out the car window, recognising the street. You don’t say anything, only smiling when you look at him, a small curve of your lips that makes his heart race.

He gets out of the car with you, opening the boot to get your bag before pulling you into his chest for a hug, liking the way your arms settle around his waist. “Thank you,” he mumbles into your hair. 

Sunghoon doesn’t follow you when you take your bag from him, only watching from the back of his car. You don’t notice until you reach the main door, looking over your shoulder and frowning at him. “Aren’t you going to walk me up?” 

The two of you walk in silence up four flights of stairs as the lift in your building is out of order. Your bag feels much heavier in his hand now than it did outside. At your door, he watches you dig around for your keys, sighing with relief when you find them. 

“Do you want to come in?” you ask from your open doorway.

“I—uh—I have training in the morning and I’m already pretty tired, so..” He trails off.

Unfazed, you nod. “Right, of course. I had fun this week.” 

“Yeah, me too.” 

You smile at him, sweet and sincere. “Text me when you get home, yeah?” 

Sunghoon nods, saying goodbye. Out of habit, he doesn’t leave your doorstep until he hears the lock click shut, and walks back to his car with his head down. 

True to his word, he sends you a text to let you know he got back to his place safely and you read it immediately but don’t reply. It’s empty in the apartment, Jake is out with his football team and the space is larger than usual in his absence. Far too tired to even consider going out and joining him, Sunghoon goes through his night routine, putting his phone on the charger and stepping into the shower where he spends entirely too long wishing he could live in this week forever as he scrubs his body. With brushed teeth and damp hair, he goes back into his room where his phone lights up with a notification; a text, from you.

YN🫀: i’m glad you got home okay, i just got into bed :) i don’t want to make you uncomfortable or overstep or anything and you can say no (obviously).. i’ve been missing you so much and didn’t know how to reach out or if you wanted me to but i had soooo much fun this week and spending time with you again made me happy, so i’d like it if we could keep hanging out, like before yk? ik it’s a long shot ahahaha but just say you’ll think about it? 

hoonie: You’re not overstepping at all, I’ve missed you too, so bad. I had soooo much fun this week as well and I’d like it a lot if we kept hanging out, thank you for agreeing and coming along 😚 If you’re free after Lit tmrw you could come over? Or we could go out and do something, whatever you prefer

hoonie: I missed you so much.. 

hoonie: 🤍

The texts greet you as the first rays of Monday morning light filter into your room, instantly lifting your mood. Your bright smile doesn’t escape Chaewon’s notice as you find her in the kitchen, bathed in the soft light seeping through the sheer curtains. The kettle is boiling with a loud rumble that fills the whole room and leaves her yelling as she speaks to you. 

“Good trip?” she asks, coming over and hugging you. “Never leave me for that long again,” she mumbles into your shirt. 

“It was a week, Wonie,” you say, rolling your eyes even though you missed her too. 

She leans away, looking at you with knitted brows. “It was nine days.” 

“The longest of my life.” 

Chaewon pulls air through her teeth, tilting her head and releasing you. “That bad, huh?” she asks, walking back to her seat at your tiny square table and shooting you a look that tells you to join her. 

During your trip, you gave her nightly updates over text, so you know she knows how much you enjoyed yourself, but you elaborate anyway, sitting across from her. 

“No, not at all,” you say, shaking your head and trying to fight a smile. “I had fun.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you have to bite your bottom lip to stop the grin curving them; it doesn’t work. 

Chaewon raises a suggestive brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “How much fun?” 

“You’re disgusting.” 

“I didn’t even say anything!” she defends, holding her hands up. “I made an implication. It was only a matter of time, you two have that whole.. lifelong best friends to lifelong lovers thing going on, and it’s hot.” 

“Shut up.” 

“You’re telling me, you spent nine days playing lovers with Sunghoon and you still don’t want him? You’re a lost cause, people would kill for that chance,” she says, tilting her head. “I think I would kill for that chance.” 

“Don’t touch him.”

“Oh?” 

“Jesus, Chaewon, it’s not like that. Hoon’s too sensitive for your roster.” 

“I never said it was like anything, you’re the one who’s dangling me over the ledge for saying I want to fuck your hot best friend.” 

“Sunghoon isn’t hot; he’s..” You find yourself at a loss for words, unsure how to continue your lie. Of course, Sunghoon is hot, you’ve known since you were seventeen and spent the summer at your grandparents’ house, only to come back to find your previously scrawny best friend having ditched his LEGOs for dumbbells. You sigh. “Just leave him alone.”

Chaewon grins, eyes sparkling as she leaves the table. “Okay,” she says in a singsong voice, leaving you and the irritation in your stomach alone in the kitchen.

You sigh, pressing your eyes shut and trying to will away your discomfort. It’s not like Chaewon would actually try anything with Sunghoon. Right? Even if she did, it wouldn’t bother you, nor would it be any of your business. They’re grownups and reserve the right to explore their options. Still, there’s a nagging feeling you can’t shake, an uninvited guest in the back of your mind. 

When you check your phone, you realise you have half an hour before you need to head to campus, so you leave to get ready and text Sunghoon back on the way to your room.

you: sounds good, see u later 🤍

After showering, you stand in front of your wardrobe, towel hanging from your body as you pick an outfit. For some reason, you feel under pressure, picking a pair of jeans that do the most for your ass and a low-cut top that Sunghoon once — drunkenly — said he loved on you.

You have the residual sting of mouthwash on your tongue, and one foot out the door when your phone vibrates in your hand. 

hoonie: Do you want to head to class together? 

you: sure! i’m omw out, where should i get you? 

hoonie: .. I’m outside your building :D 

Breathing a laugh through your nose, you don’t fight the giddy smile on your face as you make your way downstairs to meet Sunghoon. Through the glass in the main door, he’s standing at the edge of the pavement and kicking a stone between his feet. The top of his puffer jacket covers the bottom half of his face, and the draught nips your skin when the door opens. Two girls you vaguely recognise stumble in with smudged makeup and heels in their hands, smiling at you while holding the door to let you out.

“Hey!” you call out, jogging over to him. 

Sunghoon turns around, his head poking out of his jacket to grin at you, holding a travel cup and an abundance of tinfoil in your direction. 

“I wasn’t sure if you’d have eaten anything yet, you don’t normally in the morning,” he says, a sheepish smile spreading over his lips when you take it. “Matcha. Ham and cheese toastie.” 

“Did you make these?” you ask, inspecting the familiar cup and appreciating the warmth it provides. 

He hums, nodding his head.

You ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks and thank him with a hug, grinning when he offers to hold your drink while you eat on the walk. The toastie is still hot, the cheese coming close to burning your tongue as you chew, but you appreciate it wholeheartedly, humming contently with each bite. When you’re done, you shove the foil into your pocket, taking your drink from him and smiling around the sweet taste of a matcha latte as he tells you about his schedule for the day. 

“I’m meeting with Coach after class to talk about my grades, but I’m all yours after that.” 

“Talk about your grades? What’s wrong with your grades?” 

Sunghoon groans, head falling back and highlighting the bump of his Adam’s apple. “My grades are.. I failed my coursework this month, so I have resubmissions during finals, and I think he’ll bench me if I fail again.” 

He sounds like he’s being serious, and if the look on his face is anything to go by, he is. The news creases your brows because for as long as you remember, Sunghoon’s grades were your parents’ favourite point of comparison.

“Really?” you ask. He nods. “What’s up? Is something the matter?” 

A humourless laugh slips out of him before he pulls air through his teeth. “Yeah, my best friend didn’t talk to me for three months.” 

“Oh..” Guilt stirs your stomach as you look up at him. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not blaming you, it’s not like I was trying to talk and you ignored me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow, giving you a warm smile. “But if you feel as guilty about it as you look, you can tutor me for Lit.” 

“Deal.” 

Sunghoon grins, wrapping his arm over your shoulders and holding you close; the action itself isn’t unusual, but the increased heart rate it brings about is. “You’re too good to me,” he says, holding onto you for the rest of the walk to class.

At his request, you sit with Sunghoon in the back row, watching as the lecture hall gradually fills up in front of you. He seems well-prepared, with his laptop and a small notepad and pen neatly arranged on the desk in front of him.

Throughout the class, your eyes inadvertently track his every move. He diligently types up colour-coded notes, occasionally pausing to write things in his notepad before continuing to type or stopping entirely to listen. There’s something melodic about his actions and the way his fingers run over the keyboard. 

During a five-minute break, you glance at his screen. What you find is more than just lecture content; it’s a document adorned with Sunghoon’s own musings about Hemingway’s style and carefully analysed quotations that go beyond the class discussion.

“How are your notes so good?” 

“I picked up the book over the summer when you mentioned it,” Sunghoon replies with a shrug, a shy smile playing on his lips as he leans back in his seat. “I liked it.” 

A slow nod is your response, though your thoughts swirl like autumn leaves in a breeze. The last time Sunghoon read for leisure, you were in primary school, buddy reading Diary of a Wimpy Kid. But this—this is different. You can’t help but stare at him, awestruck as you take him in. His eyes are wide, shining amber in the sunlight as he pushes some of his hair from his face, frowning when it falls back where it was. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbles. 

Sunghoon takes a new line in his document and points at the screen where you watch the cursor move through the words he’s typing: I would’ve read and annotated the Bible if you wanted me to..

There’s no time to digest what he wrote or the funny feeling in your chest as you reread it before he deletes the whole sentence, pressing his lips together and looking out the window. Speechless, you stare at his side profile, willing your heart rate to slip back to normal. Steep-sloping nose, plump lips flattened into a line, two points of the triangular mole constellation on his face. Analysis worsens your condition, breath hitching in your throat before stopping entirely. Warmth and trepidation blend within you, fuzzy enough at the edges to seem like one thing—a single force that makes your palm itch with desire, desperation, to reach out and run a finger over his features, feel the bump of the mole on his nose — the most prominent — against your skin. 

You remain this way — silent, watching — even when your lecturer resumes the lesson, and Sunghoon starts typing, writing, and listening again. Polite enough to pretend he doesn’t notice your gaze searing into his face.

After class, and his meeting with Coach, you let Sunghoon lead the conversation and the way to your flat, where you find Chaewon and Yunjin sitting on the couch, whispering to themselves while the two of you study at the coffee table. It’s uncomfortable, an awkward height, too high for the way you’re sitting but you feel calm under the supervision of Chaewon and Yunjin—you won’t do anything to merit teasing in front of them, no matter how badly you want to feel Sunghoon’s face in your hands or stroke his cheekbones with your thumbs. 

To the best of your ability, you answer the questions he has for you—he’d written a ton in his tiny notepad during class, his own concerns clear with each neatly-penned iteration of: How to see actions/dialogue for what they are and not what I want them to be? written in the margins and you try not to feel heartbroken for him.

Three hours have passed by when you walk him to the door, the two of you wrapped up in a bubble so secure you’re surprised to find Chaewon and Yunjin still sitting on the couch. They don’t say anything about Sunghoon in his absence, or the fact he’d given you his sweater when he noticed you were cold. You’re not sure why their silence disappoints you.

Instead, Yunjin asks you about trivial things like dinner while Chaewon sits in silence. 

“What flavour for ice cream?” Yunjin asks, rolling her eyes when you tug on the blanket but not complaining. “And don’t say something ridiculous like mint chocolate, YN.” 

“That happened once! And it was three years ago.. How was I supposed to know you hate fun?” 

Chaewon leans into you, letting you curl your limbs around her from behind as you rest your chin on her shoulder, liking the way her clean scent tickles your nose. 

“Mint-cho isn’t that bad,” she starts. “It’s a little jarring, sure, but it’s kind of sweet. Like watching people come to terms with their feelings for each other.” 

You nod your head, humming in understanding and furrowing your brows when Yunjin scoffs, staring straight at you. Her tone is equal parts cutting and loving, so you know she’s not trying to insult you, but don’t know what she means when she says, “It must be so nice to be as oblivious as you.” 

Yunjin never elaborates, and you never ask, actually feeling the statement’s journey in through one of your ears and out the other when dinner arrives. The three of you share pizza, ice cream, and secrets — the three pillars of 20-something-teenage-girlhood — at the kitchen table, with Chaewon sitting in your lap and picking pepperoni from your slices. 

It’s only hours after Yunijn’s gone home, that her words circle back to you, the statement and all of its weight perching on your chest with all the debilitation and persistence of a sleep paralysis demon.

“I think I’m getting sick,” you say as soon as she opens her door. “It’s been coming on for a while now, at least a week, maybe more.” 

Unimpressed and exhausted, Yunjin looks down at you through half-closed eyes. “Do you..” She pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing. “Do you have any idea what time it is right now?” 

“Yes. It’s three a.m.” 

“Exactly. See a doctor if you’re sick, I’m going back to sleep.”

“This is an emergen—” Yunjin cuts you off by pinching your lips together. “It’s three in the morning,” she reminds you. “You can’t yell like that in my hallway, come in.” 

You nod, crossing the threshold and taking off your shoes next to hers. “Sorry,” you whisper when the door is closed. 

Using her hand, Yunjin lifts your chin, squinting as her eyes adjust to the light when she flips the switch to inspect your face. “You don’t look or sound sick,” she mutters, flicking the light back off and going to her room. “What are your symptoms? And why did you come here?” 

You don’t have an answer for her last question so you ignore it, following her and tripping over a pair of her shoes in the process. “My cheeks start burning like crazy and my heart races, sometimes it gets hard to breathe.”

“You seem fine to me.” 

A shoulder-slumping sigh slips from your lips. “That’s the thing. I’ll be fine and then Sunghoon shows up with his pretty smile and perfect hair and I feel like I’ve run a marathon.” You know how it sounds, choosing your wording meticulously to let Yunjin be the one to say the words out loud instead of you—it’ll be easier to confront that way. 

From the doorway, you watch as she arches a brow, her interest piqued. “Oh?” 

“I know.” You nod, head bobbing rapidly in furious agreement. “It’s only a matter of time before I cough up a lung and die in his bedroom.”

At your words, Yunjin doesn't reply, only lifting her duvet and getting cosy underneath. You feel like you’re glued to the spot, waiting for her to say something, anything, but nothing comes. All she does is pat the empty spot in her bed. 

“What are you smirking for?” you ask, entering the room properly and closing the door. 

Her response only comes after you’ve taken your jacket and hoodie off, sitting next to her under the covers. “It’s nothing,” she says, laughing. 

“Tell me.” 

Yunjin sighs, resting a hand gently on your shoulder. You think it’s meant to be comforting but it’s the opposite. “You’ll be fine, I promise. Lovesickness isn’t deadly.” 

Feeling the weight of her reassurance, you settle down properly and sigh when your head hits the pillow. Lovesickness. Hmm. 

Closing your eyes, you try to sleep but can’t help tossing and turning as Yunjin snores behind you. You pat blindly around the end table for your phone, grabbing it and wincing at the brightness of your screen. Chewing on your lip, you open Google, looking up ‘lovesickness’ and frowning immediately at the results. Endless negativity fills the screen, terrifying words like ‘unrequited love’ forming a pit in your stomach. There’s nothing negative about what you feel for Sunghoon, nothing unrequited—you think. 

It was obvious during the trip, painfully so. In the way he’d tuck your hair behind your ear when his parents weren’t there to see, or how he slipped up and called you ‘baby’ in the bathroom, blushing when you said it back. You can’t fake something like that.. Can you?

Yeonjun did.

Shaking your head, you open Instagram to distract yourself. Jake’s story comes up first; he’s at a party where Jay is losing a game of beer pong, and at the other end of the table is Sunghoon grinning with a bright red lipstick kiss on his cheek. You lock your phone, using your hands to press on your belly to stop the stirring. 

Oh, you think. Lovesickness. 

When you wake up, the first thing you do is check Jake’s story again. The video is still there and that terrible stir in your stomach churns on, burrowing deeply into a pit of canyon-like proportion—so vast there’s a safety railing lining its edges. 

You eat breakfast in silence with Yunjin, zoning out mid-chew to figure out the origin of these feelings and how to handle them. Suddenly, the moment hits you clear as day, vivid like you’re watching it on a screen—it was your third night at his parents’ house, after your walk. 

You felt bad about how you acted, and what you said, so went straight up to your room. With nothing but the bedside lamp turned on, it was dimly lit, shadows cast on the walls as you sulked, replaying everything in your head. Guilt wrapped its long arms around your body, making you feel sick as you thought about it all. About the hurt etched over his face with every word you said, and the frown that stuck around for the rest of the walk as his hand clung limply to yours. 

There was a knock at the door, so gentle you almost missed it, and Sunghoon was standing there when you pulled it open, chewing on his lip with a mug in his hand. Steam skated over the opening, a rich chocolatey smell hitting your nose but the real kicker was the mug itself. In its place on Jake and Sunghoon’s mug tree, it was unassuming, a regular white mug, but upon meeting hot water, the face of young Sunghoon appeared, grinning with his tiny glasses on. It was a gift from one of his old coaches and though he never used it, it was your absolute favourite cup in the world. 

You felt soft around the edges when you looked up at him, his eyes wide and unsure as you met his gaze—he brought that mug three hours across the country so you could use it again. The thought shifted your heart into a comfortable position, settling in your chest with overwhelming warmth and an increased rate. 

“Hi,” you said, clearing your throat. 

“Hi,” he repeated, holding the mug out for you to take. “It’s still hot so be careful.” 

Nodding, you covered your hands with your sleeves, taking the cup from him and asking if he wanted to come in. Sunghoon nodded, shutting the door behind him and standing by the bed, watching you set the hot chocolate on the bedside table as you sat down. The two of you stayed like that for a while, with him only moving when you patted the spot next to you on the duvet. Your train of thought escaped you as soon as he sat down, the warmth of his familiar fresh, citrusy scent taking over and becoming the only thing you could register. The smell of summers with him, long days at the beach and short nights spent on the couch at random parties, cuddled into his side with his arm over your shoulders. The smell you’d come to associate with comfort and home—with Sunghoon. 

“It’s not fair for me to treat you like shit just because I’m annoyed, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that earlier. I’m sorry.” 

A crease ran over Sunghoon’s thick brows as they tugged together, he shook his head. “You don’t have to apologise. I roped you into this whole thing and didn’t even try to think about how you would feel. I’m sorry.” His eyes carried a mix of regret and sincerity, mirroring the weight of his words.

“Anyway, I only came to bring you that,” he said, pointing at the cup. “And to check up on you, I’ll get out of your hair for tonight.” Sunghoon wiped his palms on his pants before standing up, reaching behind him to pick up the cloth he brought. For a moment, he stood there, staring down at it in his hand while you thought about telling him to stay, telling him that you wanted him in your hair—whatever that meant. But he spoke before you had the chance. “You left this, at mine, after.. well, you know. I’m sure you left it intentionally, I mean it was folded up perfectly on the end of my bed, so I know you did, but it didn’t feel right keeping it, you always wore it more than me.” 

Sunghoon extended his hand, holding it out to you and you knew exactly what it was as soon as the fabric touched your skin after so long. It was the shirt Jay bought him for Christmas in first year—they were roommates still trying to get a feel for each other. For a few weeks, Sunghoon had been pestering you about what he should get for Jay, saying it didn’t feel right not to get him anything, and you suggested a targeted t-shirt, one you’d been laughing at all day after seeing an ad for it on your timeline. Sunghoon was sceptical, but bought the red shirt anyway, hoping Jay would find BEING DAD IS AN HONOUR, BEING PAPA IS PRICELESS funny. He did. And Jay bought Sunghoon a targeted shirt too, your favourite. It was black and two sizes too big, with I NEVER DREAMED I’D BE A SEXY FIGURE SKATER BUT HERE I AM KILLING IT written over the chest. 

“Goodnight, YN,” Sunghoon said, crossing the room to leave but hesitating before closing the door. He poked his head through the opening and sighed. “I really am sorry.”

That night, you fell asleep in the shirt, the thinning, yet cosy, fabric wrapped around you like a hug as your heart started to beat a new rhythm, one that eerily echoed the five-foot-eleven figure skater who you let break it. 

This morning, Yunjin claps her hands in your face, seeming irritated when you look over at her. “You have class in an hour, what are you doing?” Before you have the chance to speak, realisation covers her face. “Oh, the feelings.” 

You nod solemnly, too caught up in the butterflies raiding your stomach to come up with something to say. 

At lightspeed, you scarf down the rest of your food, apologising for showing up so late as you head out the door. When you get home, you take the fastest shower of your life and feel grateful Chaewon isn’t around to tease you about the smile you can’t wipe from your face thinking about Sunghoon—you’ll text her later.

You run to campus, feeling the brisk autumn wind beating against your face while the rest of your body overheats under your jacket, hoodie and long sleeve. Despite the discomfort and ache in your lungs, you don’t stop until you reach the door of your lecture hall, huffing and puffing into the faces of classmates who don’t take any notice. Of course, in a stroke of pure luck, your lecturer is late, and you realise bitterly, that all of your huffing and puffing was in vain—you would have gotten to class with time to spare even if you walked.

It’s not a total waste though; you use the time to update Chaewon. 

you: i have news wonie..  i like sunghoon

wonie: …………….. fork in the kitchen yn what’s the news? 

wonie: OHHHH news to YOU.. can i call? 

She calls you immediately. You answer without thinking because your lecturer still hasn’t arrived, and there’s no one sitting close enough to hear or notice you taking a call. 

“Are you going to tell him?!” Chaewon’s voice is so loud you wince, pulling the phone away from your ear. 

“I don’t know.” You shrug even though she can’t see you, still holding the device at a distance just in case. “I don’t have any confirmation that he still.. likes me. It’s been a while, and I was pretty mean that day. 

Chaewon groans and you can picture her throwing herself onto her bed, exasperated. The rustling that comes through the receiver only frames the image, hanging it up. “Did you have to tell him to get a grip?” 

“You know..” You trail off, chewing on your bottom lip. “In hindsight, probably not.” 

A beat passes, she’s thinking. “Don’t worry,” she says. “I’ll help you.” 

“I.. have never been so worried in my life.” You sigh, picking at your freshly painted nails. “But I know you’ll do something no matter what I say, so do what you want, Wonie, but please be subtle about it.” 

Chaewon squeals down the phone. “I love youuuuu!” And it’s the last thing she says before kissing the mic a few times and hanging up. 

Slumping in your seat, you don’t have any time to stress about Chaewon’s plans because your lecturer walks in, with a travel cup in her hand and a paperback tucked under her arm. 

She apologises for being late, running a hand through her hair as she announces that you’ll be watching a film, an adaptation of a book you read at the start of term—Ian McEwan’s Atonement. You spend the first hour of the movie falling in and out of sleep until a text comes through from Sunghoon, and sheer excitement keeps you up.

hoonie: Wanna study together after class? 

you: of course!!!!!! 

hoonie: 🤍

The rest of the movie goes by in a drag, and you come away from it with a mild irritation towards Saoirse Ronan.

you: class just finished, heading to lib rn 

hoonie: Shit, still in the locker room, sorry !!! Omw, can you get a table? 

you: i’ll try..

It takes a while but you find an empty booth on the second floor, and set your bag on the plush green seat to take pictures of your surroundings to send to Sunghoon. You sit on the side facing the stairs so he can see you when he arrives. The thought of seeing him makes your heart race and you try out a few natural-seeming poses for when he’s here, cycling between resting your palm under your chin and sitting with your arms crossed a few times until the top of his head comes into view. 

Seeing him knocks the wind out of you as he approaches the staircase, taking them two at a time with his damp hair clinging to his forehead and neck. It doesn’t help that he’s wearing a tight black vest, and his sweats are hanging low on his hips. A breath you didn’t realise you were holding slips out when he lifts his head, spotting you immediately as a grin spreads over his lips and he raises his arm to wave, the veins in his forearm peeking out to say hi too. You can’t tell if it’s his lack of winter wardrobe or your newfound appreciation for him that’s making his biceps look so huge but it’s hard to look away, even when he reaches the table. 

“Are you hot?” you blurt out. 

Sunghoon laughs, raising a brow and something about the way he’s looking down at you makes your cheeks burn. “Depends who’s asking.” He takes his backpack off, leaving it on the table as he sits down, dumping his jacket and hoodie in a pile beside him.

“I’m asking,” you mumble. 

“Then, yeah, I’d hope so.” 

Is he flirting? It sounds like he’s flirting. Flirt back! “Nice arms.” 

He looks down at his biceps for a beat before looking at you warily. “Are you flirting with me?” He can’t fight the smile twitching at the corners of his lips but he tries his best, pressing them into a straight line.

“A little. They are nice though,” you admit.

Sunghoon grins. “Thanks, I’ve had them for a while now.”

You can’t come up with anything to say, too distracted by the way his smile reaches his eyes, lighting up his whole face and forcing a flustered heat to spread over your cheeks and neck. It’s only when you look away from him that you remember what you’re here for. It’s a study date, not a study date—there’s a difference. 

You hand Sunghoon the material you’d printed for him over the weekend, excerpts from texts you’d studied in class, so he can practise close reading and proper citation. As he makes his way through them, you can’t help stealing glances, smiling at the way his tongue sticks out a little while he focuses, or how he twirls his pen in his fingers while he’s thinking. You aren’t making the best use of your time together, copying out the slides from class yesterday, but you can’t help noticing the way he watches you when he thinks you can’t see. The small smile on his face while he does so only flusters you, an odd weakness settling in your knees as your cheeks heat up. 

After a while, Sunghoon sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Could you stop watching me?”

“If you noticed me watching, that means you’re watching me.” 

He shrugs, chewing on his lip. “Well, yeah. I’m always watching you,” he says like it’s a given. “But you don’t normally watch back, it’s distracting.” 

“You’re distracting.”

A playful smile curves his lips as he arches a brow, smugness painting his face. “Am I?” 

Too scared to verbalise your response, you nod slowly, hoping you don’t look as wound up as you feel. 

Sunghoon’s eyes flick over your face, flashing with something you don’t recognise. At least not from him. He sits back in his seat, assessing you and eventually shaking his head. 

“You know,” he says, eyes glowing with something you do recognise: cockiness. “If my sexy arms are getting to you that much, I can always put my hoodie back on. Wouldn’t want my little tutor getting distracted, would I?” 

Oh. 

Your stomach turns with want, mind reeling from his tone and the way his gaze lands on your lips. Sighing, you roll your eyes and try to seem unaffected. “Sunghoon, I never said your arms were sexy.” 

His phone starts to go off, buzzing against the table and he turns it over immediately, screen down on the surface as he shifts his focus back to his work. He chews on his lip while he does, eyes flicking back and forth between his phone and the words on the page. Curious, you lean over the table, elbows propped up as you rest your chin in your hands. He doesn’t spare you or his phone, which vibrates another four times, a glance.

“Are you going to get that?” 

Sunghoon shakes his head. “It’s nothing.” 

You hum, letting just enough curiosity seep into the sound that he’ll elaborate without being asked to. It doesn’t take long for him to deliver.

“It’s just Chaewon,” he says, running his hand through his hair and lifting his head. Sunghoon smiles. “We’ve been texting a lot these days.” 

“Cool.” You nod a few times, aiming for nonchalance but hitting bobblehead as you wait for him to continue. He doesn’t, only humming in response, nodding too. 

After a beat, he picks up his phone, angling it just high enough that you can’t see the screen. He reads the messages, an exhaled laugh coming from his nose as the tips of his ears redden—Fuck. This is worse than you thought. 

Chaewon’s commitment to girl code runs deep—she’s been rebuffing Jake since first year when she overheard a girl she’d never seen before telling her friends she thought he was cute. So you know without having to read the texts that nothing she’s saying is even remotely flirty, you can smell the auto-caps and use of the word ‘buddy’ from across the table. 

What you hadn’t counted on, however, was the potential for Sunghoon’s feelings to shift. If they really have been texting more, can you rule out the possibility that he might like.. her? Chaewon is a catch, beyond a catch, and you’d already turned Sunghoon down. Brutally. Of course, he’d move on, he has moved on. 

The rest of the study session is spent manifesting, writing Park Sunghoon over and over in the back of your notebook. You fill three pages while brainstorming ways to snatch a lock of his hair until he suggests that the two of you call it a day. He walks you home, telling you about how Jake’s been bribing him with food to get a ride to the LEGO store across town for the new Marvel set. 

“With or without the meals, I would’ve taken him, but his ramen is my favourite, so..” Sunghoon says, climbing the last step of your building and holding the door open for you. “He even brought a slice of tiramisu to the rink for me after practice.” 

“You’re terrible,” you say, frowning up at him as you search for your keys. “Do you want to come in?” 

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. “I have a meeting with one of my lecturers soon, I’d have to leave in—” He pauses, rolling up the sleeve of his jacket to check the time. “—eight minutes.” 

“I’m cool with that if you are,” you mumble, suddenly shy. 

A bright smile spreads over his lips and he nods, following you in. 

Chilled by the harsh wind, the only thing on your mind is a hot drink as you lead Sunghoon to the kitchen. He shakes his head when you offer him one, sitting on the countertop and exhaling into his palms before rubbing them together. You can’t help but frown at the sight, feeling guilty that you can’t change the weather to suit him. At your thought process, your brows raise. Wow, you think. Is this who you are? 

You busy yourself with the selection of hot drinks you and Chaewon have accumulated, eyeing each container from top to bottom. A purple tub of Cadbury’s hot chocolate that you’re sure is on the brink of expiration, coffee—sachets of the instant stuff you’ve grown to like since leaving home, Earl grey from one of many brands, or the fancy silk tea bags Chaewon’s mum brought home from a trip—rooibos or plum-apple-cinnamon. 

Craving something sweet, you settle for hot chocolate, pulling the heavy container from the cupboard next to Sunghoon’s head and setting it beside your cup. He’s on his phone, scrolling too fast to take in anything he’s seeing and he shakes his head when you ask if he wants something to drink. 

On the dish rack, Chaewon’s mug catches your eye, so you pick it up to dry it off and put it down next to yours. “I’m going to check if Wonie wants any,” you say, wiping imaginary crumbs from the counter onto the floor. 

Sunghoon only clears his throat, shaking his head. “She’s not home, one of her acrylics popped off so she’s at the shop waiting for a cancellation.” 

The information itself isn’t jarring but hearing it from Sunghoon is. You put on what you hope is a neutral smile and nod, taking milk from the fridge and assembling your drink on autopilot while thinking of ways to redirect the conversation. 

“If you knew you’d have to go back to campus so soon, why’d you walk me home?” you ask, watching your cup spin in the microwave. “I could’ve walked on my own.” 

Sunghoon is already looking at you when you turn your head, his cheeks puffed out with air as he blinks slowly. Because I love you, is what you hope he’ll say. You think you need him to say it. 

“Because you don’t have to do anything on your own when you have me,” he says instead, and it’s infinitely better. 

The words seep through your every fibre, his intonation and lucid affection making a home for themselves in your heart, spreading warmth from head to toe. Your smile becomes a radiant grin, only brightening when he shakes his head, smiling down at his feet. 

Sunghoon hugs you in the kitchen when it’s time for him to leave, his arms holding you tight to his chest as he rocks you back and forth. You inhale his scent, all warm citrus under freshly washed cotton and something exclusive to him.

Wiping the smile from your face feels impossible. You don’t let go when he does, and a sweet laugh — a giggle, you think — tumbles out of him as he mumbles that he really has to go. Still, you cling onto him, taking clumsy steps backwards, with your arms locked around his waist, to your front door, smiling as you watch him put his shoes on. 

“You don’t have to walk me downstairs, honestly,” he says, looking down at you in the doorway.

“I want to.” 

His lips quirk up at the corners, a full smile breaking through and causing your stomach to flutter with so much force you’re sure it’s visible through your shirt. His eyes fall to your lips, lingering, before he clears his throat, looking away. 

“I’ll text you when I get to the door, promise.” 

You lock your pinky with his. “Send a selfie, just so I know it’s you and not someone else using your phone.” 

Sunghoon’s head falls back in a laugh. “Should I just call you? That way you can make sure I get back to uni in one piece.” 

You nod.

“That wasn’t anything with Chaewon earlier, I just needed advice on some girl stuff..” He trails off, searching your eyes. It’s obvious that he’s telling the truth, that he wants you to believe him. You do. “I wasn’t sure if that was something I could talk about with you.” 

Girl stuff. Hmm. You try not to read too much into it and look at the bigger picture instead—your best friend is going through something and doesn’t feel like he can come to you about it.. You squeeze his pinky reassuringly, a flutter in your stomach when he smiles. 

“You can talk to me about anything,” you say, meaning it. 

Sunghoon presses his lips together, humming and unlinking your fingers. “Next time,” he says after a beat, waving at you. 

You shut the door, locking it while watching through the peephole, he leaves as soon as the lock clicks shut. In the kitchen, your hot chocolate is cooling down, and your phone rings in your back pocket. Sunghoon’s calling. 

Hanging out with Sunghoon. Making sure he sticks to the time-blocked schedule you made for him. Quizzing him on biology terms until he gets restless. If the last two weeks were an episode of Family Feud, those would be the top three answers to the question: Name something YN is doing right now.

Thankfully tonight, it’s the first one. 

You’ve been sitting on the couch for so long, Jake has both left for football practice and arrived from football practice. Conversation ebbs and flows—an hour or so of nonstop talking, followed by another hour or so of comfortable near silence. 

It’s during a quiet hour that Sunghoon sits up straight, clearing his throat before saying, “Let me ask you something. He retreats to the other side of the couch, turning to face you with his whole body. “I don’t want things to be weird after I ask, so no matter what your answer is, I won’t bring it up or ask again.”

Arching a curious brow, you nod. “You can ask me anything,” you say, meaning it.

Sunghoon’s face is impressively blank—minus the motion of sharp teeth worrying plush lip, there’s absolutely nothing behind his eyes that seem to stare right through you. 

Eventually, he asks, “Can I kiss you?” He says more. Big, scary words like for closure and moving on, but they don’t register. They don’t matter. 

Your heart pounds at the base of your throat as you find interest in your hands that sit in your lap. Even without looking at him, you can’t get over the slight crease he had in his brow and the slight tremor in his hands. 

“For closure,” you repeat, though your voice doesn’t sound like it’s coming from you, muffled under the thump of your heart. 

Sunghoon nods. “For closure.” 

A humourless laugh sneaks past your throat as you look at him. You shouldn’t have. In the lamplight, Sunghoon is golden and glorious. Warm light casts one side of his face, diffusing gently over the steep slope of his nose, highlighting his moles and the look in his eyes, gentle and curious all at once. Unwillingly, your gaze falls to his lips, parted, tempting. 

One firm nod of your head brings Sunghoon’s hand to your face, his palm cupping your cheek with soft skin as his thumb traces your cheekbone. You grow anxious under his stare, under the drag of his eyes over your features, taking them one at a time like he’s committing them to memory.

Leaning in, your eyes flutter shut as your lips meet his and he freezes, mouth completely still on yours. Delicately, your tongue traces the seam of his lips, soft and plump, until they part for you, moving with yours. Sunghoon’s kiss is unpolished when it reaches you. It’s hesitant but tender, clumsy but sweet, he’s trying and he’s perfect; your favourite. 

The kiss is.. it’s everything. It’s the racing of your heart, the thudding, the vibrant buzz you can hear, feel humming against your ears. It’s a rush of blood to the head, a lightness all over that pulls you out of your body. It’s Sunghoon’s soft lips curving into a smile against yours, his gentle hold on your face never letting up as he holds you as close as he can manage, and it’s every bit as lovely as the rest of him.

Palpable is the heartbeat of your friendship, beating to a lull under the surface of the kiss, fizzling out into nothing, a steady silence, flatlining to give way to something more, something bigger. 

Every brush of your lips against his is a revelation, a confession. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, you tell him with your kiss. You’re everything I need. His free hand finds yours, locking your fingers and squeezing, the action timed well enough to make you think he hears you, to make you think he’s saying, we’ll be okay, I still love you. 

With that, he pulls away, a delicate tension piercing the air. Blown eyes and laboured breathing—he’s beautiful, fuzzy around the edges with warm orange and all of the love in your heart. Breathless, you chew on your lip, cognisant of Sunghoon’s hand in yours and the sparkle in his eyes as he looks at you. 

Belatedly, you squeeze his hand back, smiling. “Was it everything you ever dreamed of?” you whisper, part teasing, all curious.

Abruptly, Sunghoon stands up, letting go of you in the process. “I have to go.” 

You want to stop him, you think you’re supposed to. To grab him by the arm and kiss him again, to yell in his face that you love him until he understands. But you don’t. Instead, you stay seated, staring at Sunghoon’s back and following him with your eyes out of the room and down the hall until he’s out of sight. 

It’s your first time being so upset after a kiss, and you can’t tell if it’s his leaving or the mention of him moving on that’s tripping you up so much. That’s causing melancholy to crawl from the shadows, sinking its jagged nails into your skin to pull you under. 

You love him. He’s gone. 

Eyes stuck on the doorway, time stretches over the room around you, thick and malleable, wet and cloying—clay stuck under your nails for days as the fire in the kiln rages on. 

Sighing, you get up and wait at his door. You ball your hand into a limp fist, knocking weakly. Sunghoon doesn’t reply. You try again, harder. Still nothing. 

Barging into the room, you find him sitting on the end of his bed with his face in his hands. 

“Don’t move on.” The words come out before you realise and Sunghoon lifts his head, squinting at you. 

“Huh?” He tilts his head, watching closely as you approach him, tipping it back enough to meet your eyes when you stand over him. 

You take a breath, holding it until your head starts to spin. “I don’t want you to love someone else, Sunghoon. Please don’t move on.” 

The stillness that follows is disconcerting, a long quiet you can feel on your skin, amplifying the blank stare on his face as he looks up at you. His eyes flash, a spark of hope behind them so bright it stings to look at.

“Do you..” He trails off, his lips moving to form the next word though stopping short.

“I do,” you whisper, nodding. “I’m sorry for taking so long.”

An exhaled laugh comes from his nose as he grins, shaking his head. “You like me?” he asks, excitement and disbelief fighting for authority over his voice, his hands holding your waist and pulling you down into his lap.

“I love you,” you admit, settling on his thighs. 

“You do?” His eyes are wide and gleaming, searching every feature on your face before settling on your own.

You nod. “So much.” 

Sunghoon’s chin tips up, his lips pressing against yours, excited pecks that can’t turn into much more for the smiles on your faces. You rest your arms on his shoulders, hands clasping behind his head, nervous fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“So.. will you be my boyfriend? For real?” 

Tilting his head, he tries and fails to fight a smile. “I will. I’m a little bummed though.” 

“Why?” You raise a brow, and the word tips up at the end with it. 

“I wanted to be the one to ask you.” Sunghoon’s honesty warms the room, endearing you completely. 

You grin, loving the heat spreading over your cheeks. “Ask me anyway.” 

“Please can I be your boyfriend?” 

In the weeks that followed, it became immediately clear that boyfriend Sunghoon operated on a pendulum swinging between sexual ferality and terror. He’d get distracted during study sessions at home, finding more interest in biting at your neck than stream-of-consciousness prose, but closed his eyes if a sex scene came on TV. He’d buck his hips against yours while making out but flinch at the sight of condoms in the store.

He wasn’t ready to have sex and didn’t know how to tell you, so you took matters into your own hands, asking if you could wait until after his results for resubmission came in, saying you didn’t want the distraction for either of you. Sunghoon agreed, pecking your cheek and holding you tight to his chest. 

The only thing was that your lecturer hadn’t given him an exact date, so every morning, you held your phone in a vice grip waiting for Sunghoon to update you, and every morning, you got the same text: Nothing today, baby ☹️ 

This morning, you’re brushing your teeth when he texts you, in all caps: NO FUCKING WAY I GOT A 98 !!! LOOK !!!

When the picture comes through, it’s of him in the mirror and you choke on mouthwash at the sight. He’s smiling, bright and beautiful, in a black vest that he’s holding up a little to show his stomach, though his palm is in the way of his toned abs, and it cuts off right at the top of his grey sweatpants. 

Your mouth goes dry as you click on it, fixating on every little detail you can find: the thickness of his fingers against his phone, the dip in his collarbones, the breadth of his shoulders and the cinch of his waist. In a fit of desperation, you try swiping at the bottom of your screen, willing the picture to magically extend. It doesn’t. 

hoonie: Finger slipped.. You like?

you: mm.. 

you: 98??? HOLY SHIT, LOOK AT YOU!!!

hoonie: All you.. do you like the picture?

you: i love it………….

hoonie: My girl 🤍

Another picture comes in, and sure enough, through the glare of his laptop screen, you see: Course name: The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway. Marks Awarded: 98.0.

you: well done baby !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hoonie: Thx 😁

hoonie: Can I have my prize now ha ha .. haha 😈

you: just for that emoji, no you absolutely cannot.

Your resolve isn’t strong enough when it comes to Sunghoon, because purple devil emoji and all, you show up at his door with condoms in your bag and a bouquet of lilies behind your back. 

The door creaks open and Sunghoon greets you with a grin. “Hey, gorgeous. You proud of me?” 

You beam at him, holding out the flowers. “I’m very proud, Hoon, well done.” 

“I don’t want to ruin the moment,” he starts, taking the bouquet from your hands and sniffing the flowers with an approving smile. “But hearing you say you’re proud of me is awakening something I didn’t know existed.”

“A good something?” 

“Mm,” he hums, arms finding your waist before he pecks your lips. “A very good something.” 

Sunghoon’s words hit your lips and your core, a desperate heat flooding your stomach as he kisses you deeply, his body pressed tightly against yours while he pulls you into his apartment. He kicks the door shut with his foot, slipping his hand under your jacket to settle in your back pocket, not quite squeezing but holding your ass as gently as he can manage. 

He breaks away from you, love in his eyes as he stares down into yours, catching his breath. “I don’t think we own a vase.” 

In his kitchen, you rifle through cupboards to find something to hold the flowers, eventually finding a whiskey decanter in the cupboard under the sink, and holding it up for Sunghoon to see.

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “It’s Jay’s. It’ll work right?” 

You nod, taking it to the sink to rinse it. Sunghoon wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder watching you fill the decanter with water and flower food before grabbing the bouquet. He presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck and you struggle to stay focused as you cut down the stems on the flowers, arranging them neatly. 

“Can I take a photo?” he asks when you’re done. 

He’s smiling when you turn around to look at him, a soft curve of his lips that makes your heart race, a deep tenderness in his eyes when you meet them. You smile too. 

“They’re yours, baby, do whatever you want.” 

“A photo of you with the flowers,” he clarifies. 

Warmth settles in your chest, a grin spreading over your lips from ear to ear. You nod, taking the decanter in your hands when he lets go of you, holding the flowers up beside your face and smiling for his camera. As his phone shutter clicks away, you steal glances at his face behind it. He’s watching the screen with a smile, telling you how beautiful you are.

“I want pictures of you too,” you say, handing the flowers over. 

“I’m yours, baby, do whatever you want.” 

Sunghoon poses for your photos, smiling sweetly in some and sniffing the bouquet appreciatively with closed eyes for others. He’s glowing and he’s beautiful and your heart triples in size while taking picture after picture until your phone tells you it has ten percent. 

“Thank you, YN,” he says. “I’ve never gotten flowers before, I love them.” His arms settle around your waist, lips pressing against yours before you have the chance to respond. 

You try anyway, mumbling against his lips that you love him. In response, Sunghoon grins, but the feeling of his cock growing hard against you is distracting, a lust-coated thorn in the side of the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. With locked lips and uncertain steps, the two of you bump into corners and trip over your own feet, stumbling to his room and parting only to tear his hoodie over his head.

Breathless, you pull away, eyes trailing over him and picking up on everything, from the tremble in his hands to the lust-addled worry in his eyes. He’s nervous, you think—though it escapes you, the last word coming out like a question.

Sunghoon scoffs, his hands resting on your waist under your shirt, skin clammy against yours. “Of course, I’m nervous.” 

“You don’t have to be.”

“I just want to be good for you.” 

“Don’t worry about that, let me take care of you, Hoon.” Your palms drag up his torso — firm abs through soft cotton, defined chest over racing heart — to rest on his shoulders. “Sit,” you say when he nods. 

He gulps, taking a seat on the end of his bed under your gentle push, eyes widening when you sink to your knees between his legs and reach for his drawstring, pulling the ends to untie the knot. 

“Wait,” Sunghoon says, breathless, scrunching up his face and dropping his head. “Let me calm down, baby. At this rate, I’ll come just seeing your hand on it.” 

You giggle, resting your head on his thigh and wrapping the drawstring around your finger.

“I’m serious, YN,” he mumbles, laughing as he takes his vest off. “I need a minute.” 

Sunghoon’s eyes are pressed shut as he tries to collect himself, lips pouty and kiss-bitten, slightly parted with ragged breaths slipping out. You wait patiently for him. He’s so pretty like this, with the crease in his brow and the pretty pink flush dusting his cheeks as his chest rises and falls. You can’t help but smile, leaning into his touch when his hand rests on top of your head, his blunt nails grazing your scalp. After a while, he seems more at ease, his eyes finding yours and he smiles shyly, telling you he’s ready now and lifting his hips from the bed to let you pull his sweats and underwear down. 

Free from the constraints of fabric, his cock slaps his stomach with a wet sound as the tip meets his skin, leaving a pearlescent streak over his abs. The sight makes your mouth water and you can’t look away. “Pretty,” you whisper.

Wrapping a hand under his tip, you swipe it with your thumb, taking time to memorise the flutter of his eyelids, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, and the soft sigh he lets out. You stroke him slowly, liking the way his breath picks up as his brows knit together before you take him in your mouth. It’s a tight fit but you do your best, spurred on by the way he tugs at your hair and stutters through a holy fuck as you take as much of him as you can. 

Sunghoon goes silent, only squirming when you use your hand to stroke him near his base. Self-conscious about his lack of vocal affirmation, you look up at him through your lashes, and the pure bliss on his face is unbearably attractive. His eyes are rolled back under furrowed brows, his mouth hanging open as he throws his head back.

“Am I doing okay?” you ask, using the moment to catch your breath.

He nods, inhaling shakily and screwing his eyes shut while his hips buck up into your fist. “I’m.. You’re doing such a good job, baby, so good.”

Satisfaction courses through you from the praise, a high that dulls the ache in your jaw. Still watching him, you massage his balls in your palm, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his tip when he whines. You tongue at his slit until he thrusts back into your mouth, tip hitting your throat, and he gasps when you gag, his arm coming up to cover his eyes. A belated apology slips from his lips, mumbled as he strokes your hair with a shaking hand and goes quiet again. When you speed up, his breath stutters, the muscles in his thighs contracting around your head as you suck and lick and drool on his cock. 

A moan of your name, and his hand holding your hand down, are the only warnings you get before Sunghoon comes, spilling his load right down your throat. Whining, his hips buck up against your face, pushing further and further until he falls back onto the mattress.

Your throat is hoarse and aches while you use the back of your hand to wipe at your lips, enjoying what’s left of his taste on your tongue. Deep red tints his neck and chest, a pretty flush gleaming under the sheen of sweat on his skin. He’s mesmerising, as he tries for air through swollen lips and looks up at you through squinted eyes. He reaches for you, cute grabby hands tugging your shirt and pulling you down so you’re lying next to him with your head on his chest. 

“You’re amazing, baby, so good for me,” Sunghoon whispers, eyes fluttering shut as you drag your nails over his torso, feeling the subtle heave of the slick, sculpted muscle over his stomach and chest. 

Pride heats your chest, satisfaction rolling over you like a wave. “Really?”

He hums in affirmation, nodding his head. 

“You were so quiet, I couldn’t really tell,” you add, hungry for more praise. 

“The walls are so thin in here, I just got used to being quiet,” Sunghoon says, frowning. Hand meeting your chin, he tips your head up towards him, pressing a soft kiss to your lips and mumbling, “I’m sorry. You were perfect, I swear.” 

It’s a sweet kiss. Until lips move harder and hands get lower, desperate as he thumbs the top of your leggings, palm unmoving but a dangerous heat blooms in your stomach anyway.

“Can I..” Sunghoon pinches you softly through the material, unsure eyes boring deep into yours. 

You nod. “You can.” 

Slipping under your waistband, his fingers skate across your skin dipping between your thighs. He grazes your slit, satisfaction clear in the groan he lets out as he feels the wetness there, pulling it over the length of your slit to cover your clit. Your breath hitches, a strangled gasp, pleasure and surprise meeting in your throat under the pressure of his thumb on your clit, the gentle sting of his finger pushing into you. 

What Sunghoon lacks in experience, he makes up for with the sheer length and thickness of his fingers. It’s almost jarring, it’s enough to force your eyes closed and bring a sigh rumbling out of you, ache and relief settling between your legs, where he curls a finger against your walls and drags slow circles over your clit. 

“Can you take these off, baby?” he asks, hand away to touch your leggings. 

You don’t waste a second, sitting up to pull them off, throwing them and your underwear across the room. Sunghoon licks his lips, tugging at the hem of your shirt. 

“And this? If you want..” 

You nod, pulling it off immediately to let it join the rest of your clothes in a heap on the floor. The way he gulps is a confidence boost, his dilated pupils taking in every inch of your body, though his gaze always pulls back to your bra—white and lacy, thin enough for your nipples to push through the fabric and Sunghoon can’t seem to get enough, though he waits until you’re lying down again to touch you. 

Sunghoon props himself up on his elbow, leaning over you. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, dragging a finger over the lace at the top of your bra, toying with the material and the little bow sitting between your breasts. His eyes flick up to meet yours. “So beautiful,” he repeats. 

Hiding your face in his chest, you mumble, “Thank you,” into his skin while trying to ignore the heat spreading over your body wherever he touches you. His hand trails from your arm to your waist, resting on your hips to slip over your ass for a beat, where he grabs and squeezes the flesh there before coming back around to slot between your legs—you lift one of them, resting it over his body, and he’s smiling sweetly when you look up at him.

Sunghoon’s movements are unchanging, though the sensation is heightened by the unbridled desire in his lidded eyes that urges white heat to lick over every inch of your skin—this time he pushes two fingers into you.

It doesn’t get better than this, you think. But it does, quickly. 

Leaning over you, his eyes flick across your face, one feature at a time as he chews on his lip. Reaching up, you push some of his hair from his face, holding it back and saying, “Relax, baby.” 

“Don’t want to hurt you.”

Moving your hand, you blink when his hair flops back over his forehead, tickling your eyelashes. His eyes are focused now, staring straight down into yours, want and worry flashing behind them. 

“You won’t, I promise,” you say, locking your pinky with his, feeling relieved when he smiles.

Sunghoon pushes in slowly, his name slipping from your lips when he exhales shakily, head falling forward. The sting, the pleasure, make it hard to breathe, molten desire taking hold of your lungs as he carves out a place for himself as far as you’ll take him, all the way to the hilt as slow as he can manage. 

A moan tears out of him, lewd and whiny as his hair tickles your collarbone, head falling into the crook of your neck. His skin is hot and damp against yours, his breath burning your shoulder as he tries to calm down. It’s difficult to register much else, tethered only by the sound of his voice when he asks, “Am I hurting you?” 

“Hoon,” you whisper. 

“Can you look at me, baby?” He lifts his head, resting a hand on your cheek. You blink your eyes open, gaze locking with his, where concern pushes through his desire. “Am I hurting you?” he asks again. “Are you okay?” 

You nod. “I’m okay, just..” You sigh. “Full. Need a minute.” 

Sunghoon kisses you, lips moving gently with yours, passing breathy whines between your mouths until you feel yourself relaxing. Pulling his plush bottom lip between yours, you suck on it, nodding. “Want you to move, baby,” you mumble. 

He scans your face, eyes meeting yours as he pulls his hips back. He’s slow, so slow with his thrusts that your belly turns with want, your fingernails sink into the taut skin of his back, and jagged sobs fall out of you with each drag of his cock along your walls. 

Everywhere his skin touches yours is set ablaze with scorching heat, goosebumps pushing past the surface as his breath fans your neck and his sharp teeth graze your skin. He bites hard enough to sting, and you wince as his tongue flicks over your bitten flesh to soothe you.

You were so worked up earlier, writhing against the sheets and coming undone in his palm, so bliss quickly pushes through the ache between your legs. “Good, Hoon, feels so good,” you manage, struggling to convey how perfect it is.

“Just want to make you feel good.” His words melt into each other, vowels soft and elongated as they curl around each other. He’s working up a steady rhythm, his tip consistently nudging you where you need it—the spot that makes the room blur around you. “That’s all I want.” 

Before long, the knot in your stomach pulls you up from the mattress, arching your back towards the ceiling. Mouth to mouth, chest to chest—it’s the closest you’ve ever felt to someone else, the closest you’ve ever been. The thought alone knocks the wind out of you, and his persistent whining does nothing to help.

Your want and adoration for Sunghoon run bone-deep, inching up your spine and creeping over your shoulders, intertwined with an all-consuming pleasure that turns the heat in your stomach molten as a shudder zips through you. Even though you can’t find the words to let him know, he lifts your hips from the bed to fuck you deeper, harder, into the mattress until shaky orgasms pull both of you under. 

You let him fall into you, fingers curling around his hair, whispering I love you into the skin of his neck as he comes, most of his weight on top of you while you catch your breath, relishing in the fullness you feel as the last waves of your high pull back. You stay like this for as long as he needs, his head coming up from the crook of your neck to smile at you before pressing his lips to yours. A sleepy haze fills the room around you, tongue swiping tongue as you giggle happily into his mouth. 

After a while, he gets up, tying the condom to throw it away and comes back with his shirt. He uses it to clean up—gentle between your legs, pressing kisses to your calves while he does. Sunghoon’s tenderness wraps around your heart, and love clouds your vision, forming a blurry trail that follows all of his movements, glowing like something from a dream, ethereal, an apparition. 

The bed dips beside you, his arms around you, pulling you in so his chin rests on your head. You push your cheek into his chest, hoping the two of you will meld into one—the thought makes you warm all over, a fuzziness that reaches every part of your body while he presses kisses into your hair, rubbing your back. 

“I love you,” he says, voice as soft as the rest of him. “I’m glad I exist.”

mama park: Hi lovely 😍 missing you lots, wondering when you’ll be home for Xmas………..love ma

Sunghoon stirs, nose scrunching as he snores softly into the quiet of a winter morning. His chest rises and falls steadily under your head and he doesn’t move when you sit up. The lamp on his desk is still on — neither of you could be bothered getting up to turn it off last night — and under its dim glow, you admire him. Perfect lips gently curved—long lashes kissing the skin under his eyes. 

Love hits you from all angles, warmth all over from head to toe despite the chill in Sunghoon’s room. You can’t help but grin, leaning up to nose along the underside of his chin, his natural scent so soft yet dizzying as you nuzzle into him. He stirs again, turning his head this way and that before resting, you feel a bit bad, deciding to leave him be and text his mum back. 

you: hi mum !!! missing you sooooooo much :((( will be home asap

mama park: BTW Sunghoon told me everything. I raised such good actors LOL make sure he looks after you and keeps you happy!

you: i’m so sorry we lied to you..

you: but i’m really happy with him and he loves me a lot

you: i love him so much .. never been so sure of anyone in my life

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