#idk if im still allowed to post these but this is my last!

[pvlshd]

🥭

🥭  :    how important to my muse is their hometown,  or where they’re from?  are they proud of it,  or considered a hometown hero?  did they move away,  or do they wish to?

the way louis talks about new york, brooklyn especially, outside of talkshows ,you'd think he's describing hell on earth. he has a million and one problems with a million and one little things in a way only a local can, but when he is anywhere else, he'll be annoyed at all the differences in the new locale that isn't more like where he is from. he maintains a carefully curated sort of ambivalence about these places. he doesn't necessarily want too many people knowing the things he loves particularly, the best kept secrets. tourists can keep to their spots and he'll keep to his. he might have a home in L.A and elsewhere in europe, and those homes are somewhat transient, he moves every now and then, engages in that real estate game of tetris, but his place in new york remains a stable stomping ground, he's only moved homes there once in the last ten years.

[izzy-b-hands]

I keep forgetting I can't seem to get the current version of xkit to work on my new laptop and going to do stuff that it let me do fjldksafjdlsaj

[ghostiezone]

hmmmmm. there was an 💡Attempt💡

[lesbianbishounen]

there are some pieces of media that i love a lot for a variety of reasons but most of the content on social media about it is ship related. and a lot of the time i like said ships as well but theyre not the reason something impacted me at all i want other kinds of content. but if i have to read a single analysis post from an online stranger that i disagree with i might start blowing people up with my mind

[seithr]

rl chatterin in tags, dont worry about it just feel like talking about recent stuff. for those who dont care look at this birdthang i won on xiv then. my silly big bird..

[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

© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !

permanent taglist: @asahicore

[dayslynthesix]

bad idea, right? | max verstappen x female!oc [part 1]

the one when max verstappen got back to his ex girlfriend

an: i swear part 2 is funnier please don't give up part 2

amayamedina

liked by itsmegigi, thstsanneg_, beabee, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and others

amayamedina i wish i was still blond to be on my merliah summers era. see you next year, spain, i had a lovely time here 🩷🇪🇸

itsmegigi the only certain i have in my life is that we're gonna be together next summer

amayamedina obviously girl, its us to the end of the world duuuhhh

thstsanneg_ i love you and i will definitely miss you during the year 😭😭

amayamedina stoppp you'll have to came to see mee 😭😭

beabee i think this was the best summer we ever had

amayamedina i know right?? this one felt more special

maxverstappen1 ⛱️🧡 liked by amayamedina

charles_leclerc it was lovely to meet you and the gang

amayamedina it was super nice to mee you, my mom will love to hear i watch the race from ferrari garage, shes a big fan

user1 so this is the girl we saw with max during the barcelona gp?

user2 idk maybe? she looks pretty

user3 she's a beach volleyball player i think

user6 how did you already found out her social media??

user1 she's a beach volleyball player (was, idk) and she's also a sports influencer

may 13th, 2019

amayamedina

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, itsmegigi, maxverstappen1, thstsanneg_ and others

amayamedina interlagos was alway my favorite track 🇧🇷

maxverstappen1 your my favorite ❤️

amayamedina i love youuuu

thstsanneg_ i still cant believe you're dating a playboy who's job is literally racing in circles

amayamedina i know right??

user83 i hate the way they talk about max career like it's nothing

user92 girl it's not that deep they're joking

itsmegigi you're kinda cute

maxverstappen1 are you considering redbull as your next team?

itsmegigi im with ferrari until the day i die

beabee mom and dad 🥰

amayamedina no

charles_leclerc gross

amayamedina no one invited you here and if i recall you and max are not on speaking terms so plese fix that!

charles_leclerc no

user1 SO SHE IS THE GIRL

user93 she was pretty much at every gp and was seen with him at least four times guys, it's obvious

user1 we're happy they announced, that's all

user33 she's so gorgeous

user83 i meet them last night and she was very polite AND she was the one who took the photo i have with max

november 19th, 2019

amayamedina

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, charlottesiine, itsmegigi, thstsanneg_ and others

amayamedina me and my girls (and the boys), italy trip you'll aways be famous! 🇮🇹

maxverstappen1 🧡🧡🧡

charles_leclerc the trip is always famous untill someone end up in the hospital with a food poisoning

amayamedina i told you to take it easy with the shrimp...

beabee ok that was amazing!! can't wait for next years

amayamedina we'l be here!

itsmegigi all the pottery it was me! i need people to know that ams and bea are shitty at it

amayamedina anne helped... a little

charles_leclerc no she didn't, she was BUSY TRYING TO GUIDE THE BOAT SINCE MAX AND AMAYA KEPT ARGUING!! comment have been deleted

charles_leclerc no she didn't 🤪

thstsanneg_ i love you guys

redbullracing take care of max, he's our precious driver and we need him!

amayamedinaif he was here i would! comment have been deleted

amayamedina sure adm! 😌

may 28th, 2021

amayamedina and maxverstappen1

liked by itsmegigi, georgerussell63. charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and others

amayamedina after two and a half years together with max, we decided to go separate paths, i will be forever grateful for the time we spent together 🩷

maxverstappen1 thank you for allowing me to be your partner, i will hold those memories close to my heart. wish you all the best 🧡

comments on this post have been restricted

june 10th, 2021

amayamedina

liked by itsmegigi, charles_leclerc, thstsanneg_, beabee and others

amayamedina birthday me with the people i love the most in the place im the happiest, thank you so much for being here with me and to celebrate my life with me, i will hold those memories close to my heart ❤️‍🩹 happy cancer season everyone ♋️🦀 | 📍 positano, italy

itsmegigi i love you and i love to spend your day with you, you're my best friend in the world and your happiness means a lot to me 💛

amayamedina you mean a lot to me! 💛

thstsanneg_ happy happy happy birthday my friend, you're the best, you deserve your friends with you today

amayamedina don't make me cry again 😭 i love you and im super grateful to have you in my life

beabee im crying again, i love you! it you and me (and gi, and annie) that's my whole world until the end

amayamedina my world is only whole when im with you, annie and gigi, i love you ❤️

charles_leclerc happy birthday, ames, you deserve all the best

amayamedina thank you charlie, thank you for being here 💖

charlottesiine it was amazing to celebrate with you, i hope you have a great year!

amayamedina it was amazing c! thank you for coming 💖

user13 don't you guys think that's strange that amaya and max broke up like 10 days ago and charles is celebrating her birthday with her?

user83 not at all, they seemed very friendly with each other and charlotte and her became very close

user89 people can't have friends anymore

madalenamedina_ happy birthday my beautiful girl, i still remember the day i found out that i was going to be a mom and the day i listened to your heart for the first time, i love you dearly and immeasurably ❤️❤️❤️

amayamedina thank you mom, i love you! you're the best mom i could have asked for and i want to be your daughter in every life after this one

user82 HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMAYA!!!

lewishamilton happy birthday, amaya! wishing yoi all the best 🙏🏻

amayamedina thank you, lewis! 💖

june 30th, 2021

maxverstappen1

liked by redbullracing, f1, pierregasly and others

maxverstappen1 🏆😄

redbullracing our world champ!

kellypiquet ❤️❤️❤️

danielricciardo congrats mate

landonorris 💥💥

user92 goat

user193 i mean congrats i guess

user82 the fia is now giving world championships like it's candy lol

user95 it was supposed to be amaya with him 😭😭

user33 move on they broke up hes happy with kelly

december 16th, 2021

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, f1, redbullracing and others

maxverstappen1 after 2 years together, kelly and i decided to go different ways, i ask you, please, for privacy during this moment and respect to her and her personal life.

november 17th, 2023

comments on this post have been restricted

amayamedina just added a story

november 23rd, 2023

maxverstappen1 has answered this story

maxverstappen1 can we talk? it's been a while

amayamedina i don't know if i still had anything to talk to you

maxverstappen1 kelly and i we broke up

amayamedina im sorry

maxverstappen1 no you're not haha

amayamedina yeah im not lol but i guess a talk won't do harm so sure

maxverstappen1 can i pick you up?

amayamedina sure, give me 10min

[mozart-in-a-gokart]

My Thoughts On How TUA Season 4 Should Have Ended

Read it like a script outline maybe? Idk I never took screenwriting?

Way more detail below the cut:

Im so sorry if this whole thing comes across as very fan fictiony towards the end. I did my best.

::Here are some refreshers for some of the concepts I touch on at the beginning and where my logic comes from::

Note: I may have spelled Luther as Luthor throughout this and I realized this only after I was just about to post this so… bear with me.. thank you.

So we learned these things previously:

Season 1

Viktor was the trigger for the big world ending apocalypse

Season 2

Viktor was the trigger for the 3rd world war that ended the whole world

Season 3

Viktor has the ability to transfer marigold .We learned that from the whole storyline with Harlan in season 3.

Viktor had the ability to stop Allison from resetting the universe but chose-not to at the very end of the season.

Edited Addition: The Kugalblitz itself was the result of a grandfather paradox involving the umbrellas in the sparrow timeline. (I.E. You go back in time, you kill your grandfather, therefore you have no way of existing later.). Their parents were dead so the universe couldn’t handle these extra variables that shouldn’t and theoretically couldn’t have existed, so it collapsed in on itself.

Season 4

When the universe is reset all of the October 1st kids seem to exist because Lila also exists in the reset universe (we don’t see the sparrows unfortunately so this is a toss up but for the purposes of this I assume they exist we just never saw them.)

Edited to clarify a point: Lila’s parents are still alive in this timeline, meaning she was born to two parents with no marigold. This further backs up the idea that the same must be true for the rest of the Hargreeves siblings because if it wasn’t, one of two things would have had to have occurred. One: The marigold would have had to have been released. However, If it had the umbrellas would all have been born with their abilities, which they did not have at the end of season 3 in the new universe. Two: Another Kugelblitz would have occurred because they wouldn’t have parents and therefore would have had no explanation for existing in the new universe, causing yet another cascade failure.

Abigail has this insane amount of guilt that comes from creating both the Marigold and Durango.

The show seems to establish that in Abigail and his marriage, Reginald is the one who considers the children expendable and always has. Abigail seemed to care about them quite a bit (at least until the last episode)

Abigail manages at the last second to convince Reginald to die with her and let the cleanse happen because it’s THEIR FAULT all this is happening, not the umbrellas

When Lila and Allison’s family get on the train they do in fact transfer over and are inserted into the “correct” and “one true” timeline. They are essentially rewritten by the universe to allow them to exist there.

With all these things in mind this is what I think should have happened

Abigail should still have managed to convince Reginald that this was all their fault but it should have happened earlier in the episode.

Abigail should have put an emphasis on the fact that it isn’t the umbrellas fault at all and that they have a right to exist. That it’s the least they can do is try and help them figure a way out of this after everything they have been put through both in Abigail’s name, and by Reginald himself.

Reginald finally grows as a person, accepts this, and they both go with Viktor on the crusade to save Ben.

While on the journey Abigail learns about Viktors ability to transfer Marigold from one person to another and she LATCHES onto this.

Abigail and Reginald have a discussion about a plan that involves transferring the Marigold to both of them of Viktor can’t manage to convince Ben.

(Maybe there’s a scene similar to season 2 where Viktor talks with sparrow Ben in his mind. Sparrow Ben ends up making the point that they have to let him go. HES NOT THEIR BEN. He NEVER has been. They have to let him go. Let him do this selfish thing. He misses HIS family. His SPARROWS. Let him die.)

This is a good end IMO for sparrow Ben because he isn’t out Ben. We’ve all been talking about Ben being Ben for so long we forget this Ben is literally A DIFFERENT PERSON. He sees the umbrellas as his family’s murderers. It’s tragic but, I can’t see this Ben ever truly growing to love the umbrellas the way he seemed to with the sparrows

With that Obviously the plan to stop the cleanse by convincing Ben falls apart. Plan A never works.

They all would congregate back at the dilapidated Hargreeves mansion.

They all still talk about options and Five still says that the only way to end this once and for all is by destroying all of the marigold (Instead of being all defeated about it I think he should be angry and wired when he’s talking about it. I hate this drowned kitten looking guy. Where’s my embodiment of the it’s always sunny Pepe Silva Meme)

While they all argue about trying to use the subway to save themselves and Five doesn’t think it will work Reginald steps forward and tells them all to be silent.

They all force of habit stop and stare at him.

He says that he and his wife may have a way to save them all.

Klaus, Luther, Diego, and Five are all against letting him talk

Lila, Allison and Viktor are willing to let him talk what harm could he do now at the end.

He asks Five about the subway and if he’s right that you leave it at the exact moment in time you entered. Five agrees as far as he knows that’s correct.

Reginald and Abigail ask Five to blink all of them there, right now so they have a bit more time to explain.

Five says no not until they tell everyone what’s going on. He’s had enough running around and beating around the bush. Reginald explains things now.

Reginald does.

He explains that their bodies in this particular universe were not made originally of marigold. They were just born here. So theoretically, if they no longer had Marigold in their system. The Umbrellas themselves won’t need to be erased. They could attempt to escape with their family.

Luther points out that they don’t know how to extract the marigold.

Viktor reminds them that he can transfer it but he doesn’t know how good he is at it. Plus he needs to transfer it somewhere. He can’t just release it.

Reg : “That is correct. You would need to transfer the marigold to another vessel. It won’t work if it’s not in something living.”

Diego: “What’re you saying?”

Five: “He’s saying one of us has to stay behind Diego.”

Allison: “So what? You’re asking one of us to volunteer? To choose to be erased?”

Everyone starts up angrily shouting at Reginald who is interrupted by Abigail.

Abigail: “None of you would stay behind.”

Five: “Elaborate?”

Abigail: “Five you blink everyone to the subway. While we’re there Viktor transfers all of the marigold from all of you to Reginald and myself. All of you board the train. We will stay behind.”

Everyone is silent and staring

Klaus: “you’re cool with this Dad?”

Reginald: “I am not your father young man. I am Not your Reginald Hargreeves. I am however, a Reginald who knows how to respect hard work, which you all seem to have been doing for a great many years trying to stop exactly this thing from occurring. I understand that my wife and I helped set this in motion and I am nothing if not accountable.”

Luther: “wow… “

Abigail: “Let us do this?”

Lila is immediate in her agreement

Five doesn’t like the idea of this but it’s all they’ve got.

They all start teleporting as the Bennifer Cleanse beast starts shattering the windows to the house

We watch time seem to slowdown because the creature understands that the marigold isn’t “in this dimension anymore” it doesn’t know where to look.

We watch a subway staircase form in the center of the room and see tendrils of the Flesh Creature winding around it but never down in it because it doesn’t have a way into the subway. (You have to blink there)

We have a moment where the Umbrellas link hands in a circle and glow (like we do every season. It’s tradition)

We go around the circle through each of the umbrellas faces and watch the marigold pulled from them slowly. And transferred into Reginald and Abigail who are standing in the center we see it leave them and they all collapse

Viktor still has a little bit left in him and says he doesn’t have the strength to transfer it

Everyone looks defeated at that

Diego and Lila while they’re looking at one another

Allison and Klaus are hugging one another

Luther and Five collapse on the bench

Viktor says it’s alright. That he’s gonna stay. He’s gonna choose to stay and be part of the solution this time. He owes it to them for ending the world three separate times (He’s gonna choose to save everything and not cause it)

They all hug him at the door to the train and say “goodbye”

Five is keeping the train door open by standing in front of them

Klaus hugs Viktor and thanks them for being the only normal one of the bunch and keeping them down to earth

Klaus: and hey! Don’t sell yourself short! That third time wasn’t really YOUR fault. Allison was the one who—

Allison shoves Klaus out of the way and into the train.

Allison and Viktor hug the longest out of everyone.

Allison: “I’m gonna miss you so much.”

Luthor picks Viktor up and spins them around : “I’m sorry for not being a better brother. You deserved more.”

Viktor: “ make it up to me by finding Sloane in the next world and naming your first born Viktor.”

Luther is laughing and nodding boarding the train

Diego shakes Viktor’s hand and apologizes for blaming them for so much in previous years. “I was really closed off and I should have been better. I love you brother.”

Viktor: I love you too Diego”

Diego’s holding back tears as he boards.

Five is the last to say good bye

The two are just staring at one another quietly

Five: “You know… I never thanked you…”

Viktor: “For what?”

Five: Not giving up on me the first time

Viktor is confused

Five: “When I disappeared years and years ago. When I came back pogo told me about the Sandwiches and the lights and everything. I know it’s too late, but I’d be remiss if I never said it. So, thank you. For not giving up on me.”

Viktor smiles at him.

Viktor: “I guess I should say the same.”

Five cocks his head

Viktor: “You never gave up on us. Every single time the world was ending. You never gave up on saving us. You drove yourself insane trying to save us all and we never thanked you.”

Five scoffs

Five: “Guess we’re both thankless assholes…”

Viktor: “Nah”

Viktor shakes their head and pulls five in for a hug

Viktor: “Thank you for everything Max.”

Five slowly hugs them back

Five: “Don’t call me that”

Viktor pulls back

Viktor: I’m sacrificing myself for your asses. I can call you whatever I want.”

Five steps back

Five: “Goodbye Viktor”

They give all wave at Viktor as the doors start to close

Suddenly an umbrella Lodges itself in the doorframe and everyone including the audience is shocked

Abigail has stopped the doors from closing

Viktor whips around to see Reginald right behind him

Reginald: “Must I do everything around here.”

Reginald, now with marigold and Lila’s abilities of Mirroring, mirrors Viktors ability and removes the last of the marigold from him before pushing Viktor through the doors and onto the train.

Abigail lets go and the train doors close leaving all of the Umbrellas and extended family shaken

Abigail waves at them as the train starts pulling away and we see Reginald tip his cap to them

Reginald: Farewell Children of the Umbrella Academy.

Abigail: You were Extraordinary.

The train pulls away and we see Reginald and Abigail take each other by the arm and walk towards the exit of the subway

The camera is frozen in place and we watch them ascend the stairs. We hear the scream of the The Cleanse Creature echo the the subway stars start shaking

Tiles crack and light starts flashing from the stairway the ceiling begins to cave in and we transition to the umbrellas on the train

Viktors been helped up and they’re all dazed and confused just waiting for “it” to “happen” whatever “it” is

We get a similar scene to the original scene where they’re letting the cleanse consume them

During this scene is when Five explains that they will all likely forget one another. Because their parents are in all different parts of the country. They will have never met. It’s a hard reset.

This makes all of them sad (OBVIOUSLY) so we get the same cleanse conversation as more of a we don’t know if we will ever see each other again and if we don’t I just wanna say this to you all kind of conversation

We still end it with Klaus saying “You know, I just wanna say I love you guys… but you are all assholes.”

Everyone laughs and as they’re laughing music swells

We get a cut of the subway flashing colors because the reset is happening

We get flashes of color washing over each of them with the various scenes of them from previous seasons and those timelines disappearing

We flash through them in order of number

Luthor

Diego

Allison

Klaus

Five

Lila (as six instead of Ben roll with me I promise I have a reason)

And Viktor

The final flash is a long shot of all of them smiling in the train car and the camera zooms down it and into the same wormhole at the end that leads to the “real” timeline

We cut to black

There’s beats of silence (yes multiple)

The audience is thinking “Are we ending it here? Is it gonna be ambiguous? Are we about to see credits?

No.

Slowly a stereo fades into view we’re staring at it

Someone walks in front of it wearing a very familiar jean coat

We hear the stereo button click and The song “I Think We’re Alone Now” starts playing

We watch Viktor pull a woman who looks very much like sissy into their arms and they start to dance laughing loudly. There’s a pure white violin in the corner that looks like it’s been used so often and so long but so lovingly. We zoom out the window out the window and see this is on a farm somewhere we focus on the windmill wheel turning

It transitions to the wheel of a beat up old car arriving at the park. We watch Lila and Diego’s kids stumble out of the car holding skate boards and bubble wands. They’re older than they were. Lila shakes her fist at them from the passenger window. She’s shouting at them. You can hear her shouting be careful! And then shouting more in Punjabi

We don’t see who’s in the drivers seat but we zoom in on Lila’s fist and it transitions to another fist. This one gripping a paper and shaking it as it moves across a classroom towards the front.

We follow the page as it’s placed on a desk then pan up to a figure in a suit writing complex equations clearly having something to do with physics or rocket ships in chalk across a board

On the desk is a nameplate that comes into view only when the figure turns around to address the room and we see very clearly it’s an adult Five. The nameplate reads Maximillian Murphy PHD.

He’s addressing the class and telling them to get their assignments in by Monday if they want input before the final assessment. Mrs. Murphy will take them from you if you have them now. He gestures to the woman who set the paper down on his desk in the transition who comes around the desk and sits on it. She’s wearing a polka dot blouse. He’s finally found a real Delores.

The two smile at one another and we pan up to the ceiling and zoom in on a vent grating which transitions to the front grill of a bus

We see muddy shoes scramble up the steps and cut to the inside of the bus. We see the figure only from the back as they scramble down the middle of the bus clutching a rucksack wearing very old fashioned Amish clothes. We only see them from the front when finally fall into a seat next to a guy reading a book wearing dog tags who looks like he’s just getting back from deployment somewhere

We watch Klaus turn and greet Dave in the modern day and hear them have the same conversation we heard on the bus in Vietnam on this bus in the middle of nowhere USA

We transition from Klaus laughing here to a time a bit in the future. Klaus laughing wearing clothes more like him and pulling Dave down a street past a shop window full of movie memorabilia we hear him saying something about wanting a good view of the take off. Trust him just come this way’

We zoom in on a script that transitions to one that lands on a coffee table. We watch Ray pick it up and Allison settle herself on a chair near by. We watch and hear them talk about this new pilot for this new show And how “it’s a good one I can feel it” “okay. Let’s do this then.” In the background we can see acting awards on a shelf. Alison isn’t just a commercial actress. She has been in things and is good at it. Claire comes barreling down the stairs and jumps between them on the couch. “Wheres the remote! It’s starting!”

We see Allison and Ray lean in forgetting the scripts

We pan across the room and it all melts away into a car radio

We see a hand turn it up and we hear it talking about the first launch nasa’s funded on a while. Space stuff.

We follow the figure who turned up the radio as they lean out of the car and gesture wildly as Lila and the kids to come over here quickly!

You see all of them start sprinting to the car to listen.

We watch through the front windshield of the van Lila climb in and kiss Diego. The kids all pile in and stare at the radio in Awe.

We get a shot of Diego turning up the radio dile which transitions to a gloved hand adjusting diles on what is clearly the console of a rocket ship. We pan up and it’s LUTHOR. Space boy ready for take off

We hear the the count down of a take off start over the last portion of “I think we’re alone now” by Tiffany

The screen gets smaller until Luthor is in a neat box in the middle of the screen as we count down characters are added to the screen in their own boxes all tuning in to watch this launch

Ten - Sloan with a little girl on her lap pointing at the tv from the couch in a house that is so clearly hers and Luthors. She’s mouthing wave bye to daddy! It’s your daddy! Bye space boy!

Nine - Dot, Herb, the handler, and someone with a gold fish print Hawaiian shirt (AJ for sure), dressed to the nines are sitting in a backyard with a radio on listening and laughing

Eight - hazel and Agnes turn up the volume of a Tv at a doughnut shop they both clearly own. Hazel is behind the counter and Agnes’s waiting tables. The few tables seated have people we recognize there. Cha cha. Eudora and Detective Beaman.

Seven - Viktor and Sissy watching the tv over their living room couch

Six - Grace stopping with a baby carriage at a store front filled with tvs. Her baby on her hip pointing at the tv mouthing the the word rocket to the baby who giggles

Five - Five, His Wife and a bunch of other professors or huddled around an old tv in a lab in a physics building. one of the scientists is holding an open notebook with sketches of the comic characters in it. It’s Gabriel Bá. You can see him mouthing “come on come on!”

Four - Klaus and Dave sitting on a blanket on a hill near the nasa bad along with a ton of other people on blankets pointing and holding binoculars. Gerard way and his wife are among them.

Three - Allison, Ray, and Claire all leaning in to watch eagerly

Two - Diego Lila and all their kids leaning in to hear

One - every box but the ones with the Umbrellas go black.

It’s a close up of all of their eyes. They all read as excited. Looking up towards the future. “the beating of our hearts is the only sound”

All those squares go black on some tambourine beats

Houston we have liftoff.

Credits roll.

END CREDITS SCENE.

A close up of Ben’s eyes. We zoom out. We’re back on that train in Korea. We see him frown a second as he realizes something. He puts the book down a second. He looks out the window. Looks at his phone. There are text messages that read “dude where are you? We’re watching the launch without you!. How’d you miss this?!”

You see him realize.

In Korean “Motherfu—“

We cut to black again and cut him off.

The End

Is it cheesy? Maybe? But you know I think we deserve a little cheesy.

[prentissluvr]

HI MARI !!

IM HERE WITH MY DEAN THOUGHTS!! (mostly platonic)

when you become friends/best friends, he’s ride or die for you

not on the same level of sammy but it’s a close second

the playful banter between the two of you is just great

although he knows that he can be annoying and uses it to his advantage

flirting with you to annoy his brother (he knows that sammy is in love with you and does it to get on his nerves)

PET NAMES!

has a reserved nickname for you but does pull out the pet names if you’re having a bad day

speaking of bad days/sick days

he will go out of his way to take care of you

pulls out all of the stops for his bestie

this is when you realize this man is a secret softy at heart (refuses to admit it, because he’s a “big bad hunter”)

platonic cuddles/casual physical affection

dean is reserved with physical affection (im thinking post hell! dean) (earlier szns dean wouldn’t hold back tbh)

but once he’s comfortable with you (and is sure that you won’t leave him or sammy)

then it’s a free for all

swinging his arm over your shoulder, sharing a bed if there’s only two beds (sam seethes sometimes but this is way before you guys get together lol), resting his head in your lap during movie nights (starts off as a joke wanting to annoy you but then does it almost everytime you guys have one, loves when his hair is getting played with)

there’s def more but ill cut it off here (i love bestie dean but im also in love with him LOL) (the winchester brothers have a GRIP on me)

HELLO DAISYYYY HEHEHEHE this is amazing i'm so obsessed <33

cw : mentions of injuries, pet names obviously , dean is annoying ofc <3, sammy and reader like each other, swearing probably, alcohol mention, unedited! wc : 1.5K

⟢ ride or die : i mean yeah, this is pretty much undeniable. sure, sam will always be his first priority, but the moment he knows that you're a part of the team, no doubts, he's prepared to do just about anything for you. both fortunately and unfortunately, this does mean he gets really protective of you similarly to how he is with sam, especially if you're younger than him. and even if you're not, the fact that you're his best friend makes you family, and we know how dean feels about family <3

⟢ playful banter : this is basically just your whole friendship with him HAHA. not truly, of course, but mostly heh. like idk what else to say, he'll take any opportunity to tease you or make you fake angry because he just thinks it's too funny. and he'll love whatever way you respond to that. he definitely enjoys if you return his fire with your own teasing and retorts and i personally think you are so allowed to be mean to him because he's an idiot!! obviously don't be actually mean, but he enjoys having a teasing relationship where you can call each other stupid and know that the other means it with love lol.

when the two of you get into it, sam gets so annoyed. like you'll be arguing about the value of mustard on sandwiches and both of you are so invested in winning the argument and sam is like oh my god, dean please focus on the road and shut up, both of you😭😭 the boy is trying to sleep, he doesn't need this right now. so you either keep arguing in hushed tones (which doesn't last for long) or you pick it back up at another time (that's also probably inconvenient and annoying to sam still HA).

and yeah, dean can be very annoying and he loves to rile you up LOL. it's great when you reciprocate his banter, but sometimes he's just so ridiculous that it has you rolling your eyes and groaning in frustration. and unfortunately for you, that, or any other dramatic response, is exactly what dean is trying to get out of you. "dean, will you shut up?" is one of his favorites. he just laughs at you, he thinks the way you say it is so funny and cute.

he does other annoying things too, like rest his elbow on your head or shoulder if it reaches, he doesn't care if you're his same height, barely shorter, or significantly shorter, he's gonna make fun of your height. and if you're taller, yeah he's still gonna make fun of that, too. he'll playfully put his hand on the top of your head, just for the pure intention of annoying you. idk basically anything that annoys you, he does it (usually without going overboard, he knows where to draw the line).

and yeah, the flirting is more about annoying sam, but it's a total plus when you give him that look saying, "really, are you kidding me?" he'll love a good banter on that end of the spectrum too, if you're down for flirting back. unfortunately, this sends sam the wrong message for the longest time, but it's not your fault that you don't know that he likes you back! you're just playing around with dean heh.

⟢ pet names/nicknames : yes yes yes!! he absolutely has a nickname that is specific to you!! basically your version of "sammy." it might be a nickname based off of your given name, but it totally could be an inside joke, something silly and cute. it might even be a pet name that he uses for you exclusively. i can see him calling a younger best friend "pumpkin," mostly as another method of annoying you. that one is used pretty sparingly though because it's a little over the top for the both of you. he definitely uses it a lot less than whatever his main nickname for you is, which he uses just about all the time lol. if you have a nickname based off you name, sam probably uses that, too. so, dean likes having a separate nickname that he came up with which only he uses.

and yes! he does use pet names casually and occasionally, but he's far more likely to use them if you're having a bad day, if you were injured on a hunt, or something like that! i think maybe this is just because i'm obsessed with the time that dean called lisa honey once, but i think the idea of dean calling his best friend honey is really adorable. that one is used for maximum comfort, especially if you're injured <3 "c'mon, honey. keep your eyes open, you're okay." i can also see dean using baby platonically sometimes!

he does occasionally use over the top names like sugar plum or honey bunches to annoy you lol. he will "sweetheart" you in a teasing way because he loves the way it makes you fume LOL. but in special circumstances, he'll call you sweetheart sincerely (also more likely when you're injured—"you're alright, sweetheart, we're almost to the motel"). idk if this counts as a pet name, but he'll definitely call you kid and kiddo if you're younger than him like how he does with charlie <3 i see him using darlin' very casually! "alright, c'mon darlin', let's see what sammy found." casual pet names means he's in a good mood though. he also will use insults like pet names because you're his idiot best friend <33

he won't tell you this but he likes if you've got a nickname for him, too! but he will tease you if you try to use the same pet names for him, even if you're casual about it in the same way he is.

⟢ taking care of you on bad/sick days : uhm yeah, he tries not to be obvious about it, but when he goes the the store just to pick up your favorite treat or kisses your forehead like fifty billion times when he thinks you're asleep, there's no way you can miss what a big softie he is. if the way you wear your hair allows, he'll brush any stray strands out of your face, especially if you're sick and it's stuck to your face with with sweat. checks your temperature on your forehead with his hand <3 then if he thinks you have a fever, he busts out the thermometer and takes your temp that way just to make sure you don't have to go to the hospital. he brings you your meds and lovingly bothers you about eating enough food. makes you watch movies with him lol

on days that are simply just bad, well, he's horrible with emotions, but he knows that pie and alcohol can fix almost anything (this is not true, but it still helps you to have a treat and a drinking buddy). while he's bad with emotions, he is absolutely more than willing to listen to anything you need to talk about. he's not sure how to tell you that he's there for you out loud, so he'll pour you another drink if you're not too drunk and rub your back with a soft, but firm hand. his go to phrase to comfort you is, "we'll figure it out," and it works because you know he really means it, and he says it in a soft and sweet tone that's quite rare for him.

⟢ physical affection : he can definitely be more reserved sometimes with touch, but he welcomes any physical affection that you initiate. if you purposefully stand shoulder to shoulder, he'll put his arm around you, and he'll certainly accept any hugs you have to offer. like you said, once he's even more comfortable and confident in your being around, he's much more open about swinging an arm around your shoulder and any given moment (especially because he can shove you around a little that way lmao).

he's definitely okay with the bed sharing, mostly because it's a necessity, though he tries to get you to share with sam much more once he realizes that you like each other because he can see sam physically become upset when you share with dean lmao.

movie nights are prime time for physical affection with dean!! i definitely agree that he puts his head in your lap first to annoy you, but when you don't bat an eye and start running your fingers through his hair, he's done for. he always is trying to get you to do it again, every time you watch something together, and that's when it gets annoying lmao, because he won't let you rest your head on his shoulder anymore or let you be the one to put you head in his lap. he'll make an exception if you're having a bad though hah. once again, he will dial down the cuddles if he can tell that it's bothering sam, but will absolutely not give up the physical affection with you because he thinks sam needs to get over it LOL. because, at the end of the day!! you'll always be his best friend, and he will always respect you and your relationship with sammy.

[yuttikkele]

please tell me more about gen z lotf au 🙏🙏

OFCCC!! i wrote a lot more about this than i thought i could, and i feel like i could keep going but i do wish to go to sleep! ty for the ask! (there was also an anon ask with this question, idk if it was you, but i'm just gonna answer this one lol)

the choir boys all know each other irl (obvi they still have choir together). everyone lives roughly in the same vicinity, but no one knows that.

they all met online during the pandemic. possibly through video games, twitter, or tiktok

how did this ragtag group of people all become friends? idk fortnite probably

i don't know much about fortnite, but it seems like it would start some friendships and/or rivalries. maybe minecraft or roblox too.

how they met and became friends is hazy, like how the beta kids became friends in homestuck. point is: they're all friends. pretty much.

some boys are closer friends than others, but they're all mutuals. they're all in like the same community. what community? that is a good question i should probably think of an answer

piggy uses the nickname people bullied him with as his online name. he gets cyberbullied and has ended up on many a cringe account, but it doesn't really bother him anymore. he likes to spread information, but he was a little self-righteous about it before he quit twitter. now he argues with people on instagram. piggy's also a redditor.

ralph usually just watches other people's content, but sometimes he'll post something and it'll get pretty popular because he's ralph and being well-liked is an innate part of his character. ralph does prefer to go out and do stuff than being online all the time.

simon is chronically online. being shy, he gravitated towards the internet. he's definitely a fandom girlie and has a tumblr (hi tumblr). he spreads positivity on the internet all the time. he's one of the good ones fr. i do hc simon as a Christian, so he does spread the Word a lot as an lgbtq affirming Christian dude

jack doesn't spend too much time on the internet. he also isn't allowed a lot of these medias by his parents, so that may have something to do with it. he does get upset when his posts don't get as many likes as ralph's

roger ragebaits and leaves hate comments all the time, but he has moments where he's nice. maurice memer obviously. sam and eric are the voros twins. i don't have too many thoughts about these guys just yet

they voice chat and sometimes video call

meeting each other irl for the first time led to the utter disgust at ralph's blindness in the fashion department

ok onto them reading lord of the flies cause i think this is such a funny concept

they all miraculously start reading lord of the flies as a class assignment at the same time

they all tell each other this and they're all like "loooool that's crazy we're all reading the same book at the same time"

i saw someone on my last post ab this say exactly what im about to say. it is truly the only way to go with this.

everyone's all "oh haha ralph's got the name of the first character AND he's blonde!" "piggy has the same name as peter's online name! haha how sill-" "WHY IS MY FULL LEGAL NAME IN THIS BOOK???"

the last person is jack btw if you couldn't tell

the exact names and character descriptions matching up a little too well with the boys startles them, but they still joke about it A LOT.

i mean, think about it, if you were forced to read this book in class and you find out you and your friends are basically the main characters, you would NOT stop cracking jokes about it.

"'ugly without silliness.' wow jack, william golding really DID put you in his story!"

they do start to get a little more freaked out when, yk, stuff starts going down in the book and they have to analyze it.

piggy's eventually like "OK we, or at least i, have got to figure this out." and he goes and does some research.

aaaaand that is all i can tell you for now :))

i do headcanon a lot of the boys as queer, but my hcs of them as gen z-ers do differ a little from my hcs of them as gen silencers.

piggy is a strict ally, his aunt is an ally, allies all around, until he realizes he is not so straight as he seems and is not really just an ally. bisexual

ralph knows nothing about the sexuality and gender biz he just does what feels right. he's pretty much demisexual/romantic tho.

simon is a gay dude. he is gnc and on the trans spectrum somewhere

jack is the only one using queer slurs, everyone gets onto him for it. he's gay, but he doesn't know it/won't accept it (because everyone in his life is HOMOPHOBIC!!!). when he does finally accept it, he is still using those slurs as slurs he is not reclaiming them.

[vinestaffery]

traffic x gender-neutral reader

content: fluff; travelling other places; idk what else to really say its purely just fluff with traffic; potential ooc? im not used to traffic

authors note: so there was a valk post i made last night that actually responded to the WRONG person and i am so SO sorry to you lunar. i tried my hardest to push this out as i do school work at the same time. do not take history trust (i blame my teacher for torturing me with this bullshit). anyways!! enjoy this mega fluff oneshot....

[Y/N] stood at the crossroads, the sun casting a warm glow on the busy intersection. People hurried past, lost in their own worlds, but [Y/N] felt a sense of calm in the chaos. The contrast between the bright sunlight and the shadows that were cast across the tall buildings created an interesting play of the chaotic dance below the tower.

They waited for Traffic, who had promised to meet them here, before they set off on another spontaneous adventure in one of the other factions. She adored the fact she was allowed to venture with him, sometimes even with Lightblox.

Traffic arrived a few minutes later, his usual laid-back demeanor evident in his slow, easy gait. His hair, a tousled mess, caught in the sunlight, giving him an almost ethereal look as he soon tipped his cone towards you. "Mi' lady," he commented, chuckling as you looked at him with a smirk. "Really?"

"Oh, c'mon, don'tcha tell me ya didn't laugh?" Traffic elbowed you in the hip. [Y/N] soon smiled, feeling a flutter of excitement. "Suure. Well, where are we heading this time?" You questioned. Traffic shrugged, his eyes wandering to the horizon as he stood and tucked his hands into his puffer- jacket pockets.

"Wherever the wind takes us, I guess. But first, let's sit for a bit. I found a nice spot over here to prepare." He pointed to a grassy patch under a free area from the chaos, away from the bustle of the cross-roads. Traffic held your hand, walking through pedestrains and endless crowds as he finally reached the area he had found, settling you down.

Pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, he took a slow drag before exhaling a thin stream of smoke. He leaned back into the chair. His eyes were half-closed as he soaked up the moment while you brushed the smoke away. You could hear him chuckling as you let out a cough.

There was a soft smile on their faces, something ever so comforting about Traffic's presence—a sense of peace that was hard to find elsewhere. They reached over, fingers brushing against his hair as she caressed it, laughing softly. "Your hair is really soft."

Traffic opened his eyes with a playful glint in them. "You think so? I never really paid much attention to it."

They nodded, their fingers gently threading through his hair as much as possible, trying not to knock his cone off his head. "Yeah, it's nice. Kind of like you."

Traffic chuckled, a deep, warm sound. "Flattery will get you everywhere, you know."

They sat in companionable silence for a while, Traffic smoking his cigarette and [Y/N] playing with his hair. The sounds of crossroads faded into the background, leaving only the soft rustle of leaves and the distant hum of traffic. "You ever think about just staying in one place?" [Y/N] asked, their voice quiet.

Traffic shrugged, a wistful smile on his lips. "Sometimes. But then I remember all the places I haven't seen yet and all the roads I haven't traveled. It's hard to stay still when there's so much out there."

[Y/N] nodded, understanding his perspective. Though he isn't the type to get sentimental or emotional, it seemed that they had captured them in a moment. "I get that, but it's nice to stop and breathe every now and then."

He turned his head, his eyes meeting theirs. "Yeah, it is. Especially with you." He winked.

They shared a smile, the kind that spoke of unspoken words and uncharted paths. In that moment, under the shade of the tree, the world seemed to pause, and all that mattered was the simple, quiet connection between them.

Traffic took one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out. "Ready to go?" he asked, his voice soft. [Y/N] nodded, feeling a sense of contentment. "Yeah. Let's see where the wind takes us."

The walk through the bustling city streets was filled with the usual charm of Traffic's unpredictable antics. He made strange and juvenile suggestions, like stopping at a fountain to toss in not just coins but small trinkets he found in his pockets, claiming it would bring them "extra special luck." [Y/N] couldn't help but laugh at his illogical ideas, enjoying the lightheartedness he brought into their lives.

As they approached a small park, Traffic's eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. "Hey, [Y/N], let's climb that tree!" he exclaimed, pointing to an old oak tree with sprawling branches. [Y/N] raised an eyebrow, amused. "Why?"

"Why not?" Traffic countered, already heading towards the tree. He began to climb, his movements surprisingly agile for someone like him. [Y/N] followed, shaking their heads with a smile. Traffic always had a way of turning mundane moments into spontaneous adventures.

They settled on a sturdy branch, the city noise fading into the background. Traffic leaned back against the trunk, his legs dangling freely. "You know, sometimes I think about just disappearing into the wild, living off the grid," he mused, a dreamy look in his eyes. [Y/N] glanced at him, curious. "You really think you could do that?"

Traffic shrugged, a wistful smile playing on his lips. "Maybe. But then I'd miss seeing the smiles on people's faces and making them laugh with my weird ideas. Life's too short to take seriously, you know." [Y/N] nodded, appreciating his outlook. "Yeah, you do have a way of making things fun."

Traffic grinned, his eyes sparkling. "That's the spirit! Now, let's get down from here before someone calls the cops."

They climbed down, with Traffic making a dramatic leap from the last branch and landing with a flourish. [Y/N] laughed, feeling lighter and more carefree than they had in a while. Traffic's apathy towards his own life was balanced by his desire to make others happy. It was a paradox that made him uniquely endearing.

As they continued their walk, Traffic suddenly stopped in front of an old, abandoned building. "You know, I always wanted to explore a place like this," he said, his voice filled with nostalgia. [Y/N] looked at the building, then back at Traffic. "Are you serious? It looks dangerous."

Traffic shrugged, a mischievous smile on his lips. "Danger is just another word for adventure." Despite their initial hesitation, [Y/N] followed Traffic into the building. They wandered through the dusty halls, finding remnants of the past scattered around. Traffic picked up an old, tarnished mirror, holding it up to [Y/N]. "Look, it's like we're in another world."

[Y/N] laughed, seeing their reflection in the cracked glass. "Yeah, a world where we need tetanus shots." Traffic chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Always the realist, huh?"

They spent the rest of the day exploring the building, each room a new discovery. Traffic's antics kept [Y/N] laughing, his carefree nature infectious. As the sun began to set, they made their way to the rooftop, where they sat side by side, watching the city below.

"You know," Traffic said softly. "I'm really glad we met. You make all these crazy adventures worth it." [Y/N] smiled, their hearts warming at his words. "Me too, Traffic. Me too."

They sat in comfortable silence, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink. Traffic reached out, brushing a strand of hair from [Y/N]'s face. "Your hair is really soft," he murmured, a tender look in his eyes.

[Y/N] felt a blush creep up their cheeks, their hearts racing. "Thanks," they whispered, their fingers entwining with his.

[adaptacy]

A Found Flame {Pt.2}

Pairing: Mentor!Gale Dekarios x Apprentice!GN!Reader

(Previous Chapter) – (Next Chapter) ➔ (AO3)

A/N: Gonna cross-post this to AO3 eventually once I have more of an idea of how the plots gonna go cause you all have convinced me to full-send it and make it a longform thing. just adding it to the list of wip.... a sincere apology to my tcm fics.... anyways! i love my little depressed magic-cancer nerd and im glad im not the only one. here's more of him :) [it wont all be angst, but i gotta set the scene and the stakes, yanno...?] ALSO 'a found flame' is just the working title, idk what the official one is gonna be but i'll let yall know when i figure that out

Word Count: 3.1k

Stepping outside grants you an opportunity to taste the last flavors of the fading winter, only feeling the quick spikes of a chill every few minutes, and even then, it’s only thanks to the setting sun. You still wear a purple velvet shawl, as per the request – well, demand – of Gale. He insisted many moons ago that you shouldn’t ever risk getting sick when you can take measures to avoid such a fate, and you’d decided it was much simpler to go along with it than to argue your safety. That plan was cemented when he purchased you a finely tailored purple shawl, the edges of the hood and cloak lined with lynx fur, dyed a dark pink to complement the thick purple velvet that made up the majority of the shawl. A gift that nothing short of surprised you, even had you fooled into believing you’d been dreaming when he presented it to you. Why he was so particularly fearful of the cold, you weren’t sure, but you deeply appreciated the gift, and even if you did enjoy winter’s nip, the shawl was both gorgeous and comfortable, and you’d be insane to leave it behind.

Gale was also particularly sensitive to cold weather, from what you could tell, which likely had a role in his passionate bias against the chilliness of post-snow air. Frankly, you were fine with the occasional runny nose in exchange for a chance to wander down a snow-dusted forest trail, and you didn’t mind a shiver here and there while you caught free-falling flakes that Waterdeep was ever so rarely granted. 

The garden, however, was much like Gale – hardly a fan of the cold. Gale did not have a green thumb, but he still shared similarities with the plants you tended. Those plants that, currently, were dead and buried. While you’d managed to convince him to try his hand at herbalism and gardening, he had more of Bhaal’s touch with the sprouts than the ‘magic’ touch he so often joked about. It was amusing, and a little pitiful; the exasperated sigh and the troubled frown that followed your breaking of the news, that his poorly packed and overwatered plants had passed. He was dramatic, and managed to find the humor in the situation, though vowed to let you handle anything to do with seedlings and crops from that point onwards.

It was unfortunate, as you appreciated his entertaining company (even if it came mostly in the form of griping, displeased that he had to get so up close and personal with dirt and worms) around the garden beds, but it allowed for moments like these. Truth be told, you had no intention of gardening. You would have to wait another twelve dawns until any useful plants would be back in season, so planting anything this late in winter would be a waste of both time and resources. 

Instead, you aimed to explore a small forest trail that you’d just recently discovered, not far from the tower you stayed at. To say you lived there felt like too strong, too certain, of a term. It was the only place you slept, and nearly all of your time was spent there, but you knew it wasn’t home. It was Gale’s home, and you were a mere guest. A sixteen-month-and-counting guest, but a guest nonetheless. You worked, your apprenticeship laboursome and sometimes really quite demanding, and Gale repaid your loyalty and assistance by giving you a place to stay. You’d just never planned to stay so long. 

In all honesty, you expected it to be a very temporary arrangement. You suspected Gale felt the same way. But circumstances changed, and so did minds, and you didn’t see yourself leaving anytime soon. It helped that you got along quite well with your boss-slash-roommate, despite the differences in personality and age. You were comfortable with the way things were, and Gale had just recently begun to sprout ideas of passing his own spell-casting knowledge on to you, with today’s lesson being a prime example. When you weren’t helping out around his home, or running errands for him, or tending to the garden, you were most usually subjected to reading long passages from books that were once very far above your understanding. 

If Gale was a master of anything, it was surely knowledge. You’d found it odd, at first. Spending all of his days wasting away in his tower, just reading, rotting into a hermit, you’d assumed. But you’d soon gained an appreciation for his boundless mind, and felt almost honored that he’d decided you worthy of learning from him. Being a wizard’s apprentice had never been in the plans, not even as a fleeting hypothetical, and yet you found yourself in that exact scenario – and enjoying it nonetheless! 

Glancing down at the small woven basket hanging from your arm, you frowned, lost in thought. Gale taught you a lot, and he still had plenty left to teach, but by no means did that translate over to you really knowing the man you shared a house with. He taught from books and scrolls, and on a few spare good days from his own vast experience. Even with all of the lectures he gave, you found that any details about him that weren’t related to magic, or your lessons, were all quite lacking. What you did know about his personal life was almost purely from observation. 

Well, a few times when Tara had made a passing comment about some personal detail and surely was later scolded for it, but those were few and far between. If anyone were to blame for your curiosity, it was most certainly the man himself. He loved preaching the importance of curiosity, exploration (despite rarely leaving the confines of his study), and seeking knowledge, and you’d be a rather poor apprentice to disregard such lessons. Or, arguably worse, cherry pick when you applied those lessons to real world scenarios. 

Most recently, your nose for curiosity had picked up on the notably pungent scent of Gale’s behavior. It was unusual, slightly withdrawn, perhaps a little panicked if you truly squinted between the lines. Gale was predictable, for the most part – it was one of his traits that had earned him your trust in the first place. Though as of recent, he’d been rather strange. And not the typical Gale kind of strange – an unsettling, uncharacteristic strange. One that you knew better than to ask questions about, but one that certainly sprouted confusion. 

You neared the edge of the forest, giving the pale trees a smile as if to promise your peace. Pausing just before the tree line, you peered into the woods, interested as to what you might discover. You proceeded, following a very faint trail into the woods. You had a pretty solid confidence in your navigational skills – otherwise you most definitely would’ve gotten completely trapped in the maze of a city that was Waterdeep every time you ran any sort of errand – so you weren’t particularly concerned with getting lost. 

Allowing your thoughts to return to Gale, you reminded yourself that you weren’t really lying to him. You definitely weren’t going to the garden, but you still planned on harvesting plants. You’d known him for almost a year and a half, and you knew the gist of what he’d been through, what with his mentorship from Mystra herself – which was so cool, and he was way too casual about it – and his strange appetite thanks to the Netherese orb that had become one with him. All that aside, however, you didn’t know many details about his past. For as chatty and sarcastic as he was, you couldn’t shake the feeling he had a good number of secrets he withheld from you, and big ones at that. 

Of course, Gale was entitled to his privacy, and you didn’t want to intrude or push his boundaries, but it was impossible to ignore the signs of unease. His constantly drifted mind, his long breaks between lessons, his increasingly frequent requests. Or the way that he’d direct you to read a passage from some folktale or other, only to remain silent for several moments after you finish, gazing longingly past his balcony. He’d been consuming more artifacts than usual recently, and gained a sudden eagerness to push real world practice into your schedules. Not that you minded the inflow of new information, but it didn’t seem to come from a place of excitement. Instead, you figured anxiety; judging based off of the common rapid bouncing of his leg, the messy-and-messier spread of his books and trinkets – especially when compared to how well-kept the place always was whenever you’d started working under him – or his new tendency to forget what he had and hadn’t asked of you, or which lessons he’d already covered, or hell, where he had last placed his staff. 

Well, what better way to get someone to open up and relax than with a hand-picked bouquet and some herbal tea? 

Even if he didn’t spill his guts to you, he certainly needed a pick-me-up. Sure, you already did a lot for him, but he did a lot for you, too. Maybe even more than he realized. He deserved a treat. 

–   –   –

“Though it may be bold of me to say, I estimate they’ll be a fine caster someday.”

“Bold indeed, Mr. Dekarios. Awfully bold. They quite nearly began trembling at the idea of a mere fire bolt!” The small beast chirped back, seated firmly atop his desk, pawing at a small fuzzy ball that swung from a thin string, easily entertained by the simple contraption. 

“Even I stumbled; all beginners do. Time is all they need. ‘Time heals all wounds’, is that not how the scriptures read?” He asked, sticking his tongue out and running the tip of a long harpy feather over it. 

As he dipped that same tip in a vial half-filled with a thick, clear liquid, Tara quickly outstretched a wing, the end of it not-so-accidentally hitting her companion in the face. The startle nearly caused him to knock over the bottle of magic ink, his torso leaning forward as he just barely managed to steady it with both hands, and he glared at his familiar out of the corner of his eye. She merely stretched out her other wing, feigning obliviousness before eventually looking back at him. “You are still the same fool who summoned me all those years ago. You are a prodigy, Mr. Dekarios! You were half their age then; to compare your ‘stumbles’ to the incompetence of a commoner such as them is exhaustively inconceivable.” 

“Tara, I implore you to exercise patience. They are a fine apprentice, and they certainly have the potential for brilliance. Am I not a competent mentor?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, intending the question to be at least somewhat thought-provoking, but the only reaction he received was Tara turning her head away and murmuring something too quiet for Gale to hear. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, he knew her well enough to predict it was something snarky, and he didn’t bother investigating. He dipped the large quill again, unable to recall if he’d already wet the tool, and the liquid dripped off of the tip, shimmering in the glint of the fading sun as it rejoined the rest contained in the bottle. “Why is it that you repudiate all of their attempts to bond with you? Surely you don’t think them ill-mannered?”

“‘Ill-mannered’, he says,” she mocks, her tail flicking in irritation. “It is not their civilities that I have quarrels with. It is the expectations I deplore.”

“Expectations?” Gale repeats, his palm flattening against his desk, pressing out the sides of a contorted scroll, the tip of the feather hovering over the yellowed paper. 

After solving her own deliberation, the tressym turns around, her wings folding against her sides, her tail curling around her paws. “Have you no fear that your confidence is misplaced? Mr. Dekarios, do you not worry that they may fall short in your plans for them? That they are not up to the task you have decided to burden them with?”

Gale’s irritated gaze softens, his hand relaxing, coming to join his other hand in resting on the desk. The clear liquid on the quill drips onto the parchment, becoming a black dot in an instant, the weave-infused iridescent ink soaking seamlessly into the paper. “I fear nobody could ever truly be capable. But my options are limited, and my few select choices are each disheartening in their own cruel ways.”

“Evidently, you have already made up your mind. Why is it that you allow them to remain oblivious? You know better than anyone how dire the circumstances are.” Tara’s paws slide forward, her belly laying flat on the desk, and she plants her head atop of her mitts. 

Gale moves his hand, letting the paper curl up without the weight, to gently scratch Tara’s head, her pitying purr drawing a sigh from his own chest. “I am but a ticking time bomb. Hardly much of a man these days,” he chuckles dryly, looking around the dust-riddled mess that he still called a study. It would be nothing short of anarchy if it weren’t for his apprentice, and he’s seen it in far worse shape, but it doesn’t quite shake the quiet guilt that rocks in his stomach at just how far he’s fallen. Gale is usually quick to excuse his carelessness as an incurable consequence of his age, but he’s well-aware that his energy is not merely being lost alongside his youth. 

The artifacts he consumes have only ever satiated a part of the orb’s appetite. Never quite satisfied – a commonly reoccurring trait of those Gale finds himself engaging with – the sortilege feeds off of him as well. The incantations he recites and the thaumaturgy he practices only grows stronger – more powerful than Gale could have ever predicted or wished for – while his body withers away as though his very anatomy is actively being shredded, and relentlessly so, to make room for spells that he now dreads casting. 

It doesn’t help that his learned reliance was only ripped away from him when he truly needed assistance. When the man who once considered himself the smartest in all of Faerun was clueless about his own condition, the only person who could possibly have the answers disappeared. 

Now, Gale was left to clean up the pieces. He understands this is his own doing – that he was, and still is, a fool. Once blinded by greed, a greed that led him to being blinded by love, a love that led him to being blinded by desperation, a desperation that led to him being trapped by fear. A fear that now has settled, more or less. Present as ever, but no longer unfamiliar, no longer a new addition to Gale’s emotions.

His hand returns to the paper, and Tara steadies her sights on the bottom of the quill, watching as it twirls, imprinting promises and bittersweet apologies onto the scroll. Words he couldn’t possibly utter aloud, but words that couldn’t be more genuine. The recipient deserves more than a written explanation and cursive laments, and he’s aware of the injustice he’s manufacturing, but he is a terribly faded man who is cursed by a deficiency in time and yet finds himself with so much left to do. He decides it is better a raven on her doorstep than his ghost, lacking any explanation. 

Each day, he wakes to find his chest a little warmer, his hands a little shakier, his hair a little thinner. And each day feels like his last. He is entirely helpless to the foe that resides inside of him, of all places. Incapable of defending against something that has already breached his castle walls, and even more useless as it has latched under his skin, reducing him to nothing more than a habitat. He hosts an aberration that has grown far, far too large for its enclosure, and who threatens to rupture its cage with every breath that he dares to draw. 

He’s held out for long enough. He’s lived longer than he ever imagined possible, but he knows his limits. The truth stings in places untouched by the Netherese’s reaches; his forced composure starts an ache in his face, but he knows better. With a sharp inhale, Gale rolls up the paper, setting down the large brown feather as he retrieves a thin, fraying string, tightly wrapping the letter up. He even finishes it off with a neat bow, a force of habit, and he sets it aside, leaning back in his chair. 

The moon is just barely visible now, approaching the stars and creeping over the mild coverage of the stone railings on his balcony, and the wizard watches the white giant rise. Some unburied, deep sense of longing reflects in his eyes, where the moon also resides, though she is much smaller and much dimmer. There’s movement on the desk, but Gale’s eyes aren’t yet drawn away from the beauty of the night. Then there’s a weight in his lap, and a purring against his stomach, and he lowers his hand to rest on Tara’s back, gently stroking, enjoying the silent tranquility. 

‘Mystra’s moon’ he used to call it. He’d tell her he could see her in the shadowed curves, but he isn’t sure if he ever really did. Maybe in a dream, long lost to him now. The moon that watched over him tonight was certainly not Mystra’s. It was bright, encasing the room in a beautiful blue, and the gaze it returned was a soft one. Free of judgment, free of stress, free of difficulty. 

“I reckon I’ll be up there soon,” he exhales, feeling his familiar curl up in his lap. “Ruling my own section of sky. Perhaps I’ll even have purpose. I can’t help but wonder what it’s like.”

“Peaceful, I suspect. An eternity of peace, at that. What a prospect.”

“You’ll join me some day?” 

The feline purrs out a quiet chuckle, her tail curling around her body so the tip rests on her nose, bundled perfectly atop his thighs. “Of course. I can only go so long without a self-warming bed.”

Gale smiles, his hand falling still on her back, though his thumb continues to run up and down her fur. “Give them a chance, will you? They can’t do it without guidance.”

“I’ll take care of them,” Tara reassures, her tone much softer now than when she spoke of his apprentice earlier. “Do wait for me up there. I’ll be by your side before long, Mr. Dekarios.” 

“I set out tomorrow night. I’ll inform them of what they need to know.”

[the-ultimate-tsbs-kin]

Seen as my last post abt the Glamrock Bonnie and Glitchtrap Show seems to be getting a lot of attention, let's talk about something else.

Solar's death.

God that's what made me hate the tsams fandom.

Yes, you're allowed to be attached to a fictional character and you're allowed to be sad over their death.

But these fuckers spammed all of Sun and Moon's comment section about it for like a month, whether or not the video was related.

"At least they're not harassing other channels-" no but they were. They spammed Lunar and Earth's (feels weird referring to myself in the 3rd person but we didn't have yt channels-) comment section as well, even when they were trying to play a calm game, the comments were all "i CaNt ReLaX iM sO sAd AbT sOlAr"

Still think that's fine?

These idiots were on the Funtime Foxy and Glamrock Chica Show about it too.

Probably the LEAST relative channel to the Sun and Moon Show, and the video was a random vrchat filler, and the first comment I see was "this is a sad day for all of us because Solar died but ok"

Shut up. Shut the actual hell up. Idk what kind of main character syndrome you're applying onto tsams, but it's not cool.

Sorry, were all the channels supposed to spend the next month or so grieving over Solar, even the characters who didn't bloody know him??? (Which is most of em)

Not to mention the fans THREATENING DAVIS on social media about it

I literally hate the fandom so much, the creators are so wonderful and deserve better.

[hxjikonn]

HI HIIII CONGRATS ON YOUR 143 FOLLOWERS OR MILESTONE??? IDK WHICH ONE I SHOULD USE FOR THIS IM SORRY 😭

May i request a long fic comfort with Azul ashengrotto, with Reader who has been hiding their true feelings from everyone and even observant person can’t tell if they’re hiding it or not and tend to avoid certain question, because they’re used to be not hear out/has experience their problems spread around school(perhaps), pls?

IM SORRY IF THIS TOO MUCH BUT REALLY NO PRESSURE FOR YOU DOING THIS—I JUST WANT TO MAKE MYSELF CRY HARDER AND I LOVE YOUR WORKS SO MUCH🥹💕

A/N: OMG ILYT DUDE UR ALWAYS SO INTERACTIVE WHENEVER I POST MY WORK I HOPE YOU CAN STILL CRY TO THIS EVEN THOUGH IT TOOK SO LONG🥹♥︎

Put on a show!

☆Staring☆: Azul Ashengrotto x GN!Reader

Synopsis: When you chose to hide your emotions from everyone, Azul wondered why it had to include him…why can’t you let anyone in your head? How long do you think you can hold it together before you fall apart.

“Why do you shut me out? Why do you shut the world out? What are you so afraid of?” - Anna (Frozen)

Artist: @/uri_hir on twtr

To most people, you were an open book, you always spoke your mind, you always showed them how you felt, and let them know if you were okay…at least that’s how you play your little illusion. Little did they know that you had chapters hidden from within the pages they read, things that you swore you’d never let anyone know, in fear of allowing them to see your weaknesses that they can use against you.

It wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t always this way, ever since then you bottled up everything, that particular day when…“Y/N!!!” Ace called out, snapping you out of your thoughts, “hm?” You hummed, once again silently putting on the mask you were used to showing everyone. “Wanna go to Monstro Lounge with me and Deuce? We thought it’d be nice to chill after that hellish spell drive training” He offered.

The training was hellish, and you were tired…no screw that, you were drained, you didn’t just keep up with them, you were also keeping up the facade you played, this other ‘you’ who everyone knows and loves. But of course, this version of ‘you’ is also a people pleaser, so reluctantly you said agreed to go. “Sure! I’ll come with” enthusiastically you stood up and grabbed your stuff.

Deuce smiled seeing you still so active “I wish I had Y/n’s personality…” No you don’t. Ace agreed and stood up to grab his stuff aswell “I know right, always so energetically postive” No I’m not. You just laughed at the two, halfheartedly but you didn’t let it show since you didn’t want them to think otherwise.

You carried Grim because the cat was asleep, and you three strolled on to Monstro Lounge together. The odds were somewhat on your favor, because it wasn’t that packed in the Lounge when you arrived, conveniently too, the last thing you want right now is a larger crowed to appease and entertain with your little act. You took a seat at a table as Ace and Deuce chattered along behind you, arguing about who knows what again.

You place Grim down and allowed yourself to ‘let lose’ a little since the other two were still at the bar side getting drinks, you let yourself have a break from smiley, happy, and bright, letting your exhaustion be visible, you sighed somehow calm because you were tucked away in a corner where no one really saw you.

“You look quite worn out prefect, are you not feeling well?” Suddenly a voice from behind you emerged, you looked up to see Jade, leaning from behind you seat, “Oh hi Jade! It’s nothing, the spell drive training was just extra rough today…” you reasoned with him, desperately trying to play your character again. Knowing how Jade is the more observant twin, you were nervous that he saw right through you.

He nodded, “Of course, can I get you anything?” He asked, you shook your head and pointed at Ace and Deuce coming to your table with drinks, “Ah I see, then I’ll let you relax now and enjoy your drinks, let me know if you need anything else” he smiled, striding away to other tables, you let out a silent breath of relief.

You thank the two for getting you your drink and sipped on it, still on edge about the happenings from earlier, you let your mask slip away one time and almost got caught, never again. You thought, breaking away from talking with the voices in your head, you joined in on the other two’s conversation, hoping to forget what just happened.

You three rambled on and on, hoping from one topic to another, you were hoping to finish soon since right now you just wanted to go home and really relax, you can feel the bottle you store your emotions in is already nearing it’s overflow, you needed to let it out, but not here, not now. Just. A. Little. Longer.

As you three stood up leave, Floyd suddenly grabbed both your shoulders, which surprised you, “Shimpyyy~~~ Hello~~~~” he greeted, you smiled, “Hi Floyd! We were just leaving” you said, hoping that you didn’t sound like you were rushing it. “No you’re not, Azul called for ya! You two go on ahead~ We’ll borrow Shimpy for awhile” he shooed off Ace and Deuce and they awkwardly waved you goodbye having no choice.

Great, you quietly took a deep breath, desperately trying to glue the pieces of your mask together as it was wearing off, “Lead the way!” You smiled at Floyd who gladly lead you Azul’s office. Every step you took, you felt it, the weigh on your chest getting heavier, the ringing in your ears getting louder, your eyes starting to sting with hot tears threatening to come out, but it cant, you cant, not here, not now. Just. A. Little. Longer.

Floyd opened the door for you “Shimpy me n’ Jade will take care of baby seal” he took Grim from your arms gently, and you mouthed a silent thank you as you stepped in the room. Azul had always been warry of you, you were always smiling, not the sly kind like Rook’s, or the carefree kind like Kalim’s. It always seemed hollow like we weren’t really there.

He was eager to find out, you had always been a peculiar human from the moment you came here, but what irked him more was why and how you didn’t seem to be bothered by anything, despite countless overblot encounters, the belittling you hear from the students here, you having no way back home…Nothing fazed you, even if you did show other emotions, it always seemed like you dialed it down.

Ever since his overblot, how you’ve helped him overcome it, and how you didn’t treat him any differently despite knowing what he had looked like as a child, He felt safe with you, and wanted you to feel the same way about him. He was curious, but why does it feel like you’ve told him everything about you, yet at same time nothing at all.

When he’d heard from Jade that you were here, he was exhilarated, he wanted to see you since he saw you and the other first years training earlier, and he noticed how tired you looked. So he took it upon himself to make his office nice and cozy, with snacks and drinks, even going as far as replacing the pillows with fluffier ones.

He hoped that maybe this time you’d allow him to break the chains you’ve wrapped around yourself. Maybe this time you’d…”Hi azul” he perked up to look at you, hearing your voice, “Oh Hi! I apologize I didn’t hear you come in…” he explained, he was distracted, but he couldn’t let you know why.

You laughed a little, sitting down on the chair infront of his desk, the relationship you had with him was complicated on your part, you knew everything about him, and grew close to him over time. You even started to think about opening up to him one time, but you stopped yourself, remembering what happened the last time you thought you could trust someone.

You didn’t avoid Azul since then, but made you did make sure to keep your distance, you felt that he was close to figuring you out. And out of all days it had to be now, now that you were close to falling apart, and out of all people it was Azul. You felt weak to your knees but still tried to hold it in. You needed to.

“So what was it that you called me here for?” You asked, you weren’t trying to seem like you wanted to make it quick, worried it’d make him suspicious. “Oh uhm…nothing in particular, Jade mentioned you didn’t look well…” he said, concern lingering in his voice. Oh no. “I’m fine, Just tired from training that’s all” you were desperately not trying to sound in denial but it was slipping out. Just. A. Little.Longer.

“Right…you had spell drive training earlier” he mumbled, you wouldn’t look his way, looking everywhere else but at him. “Is that the only reason?” He couldn’t help it, he wanted to be let in, “yeah…” you simply said, nodding, still flashing him that bright smile, only this time, your act was nearing it’s end, your mask is breaking.

“Y/n…” he called out, oh no. “I’ve noticed…” oh no. “Please, I want you to trust me.” He looked at you, empathy and worry in his eyes. You felt guilty for not trusting him enough to tell him, but it wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t let yourself get hurt again. “I’m alright, really. Just really really worn out.” You defended, you avoided saying whether you trusted him or not.

“From practice or From something else?” He pried, you felt your hands shake, you clasped them together tightly, and wish he wouldn’t see. You couldn’t say anything, you couldn’t speak, it was as if there was someone over your shoulder reminding you that if you were to trust anyone again, you’d be broken beyond repair. “just tired..” you croaked out, praying to whatever deity is there that he’d let it go.

Azul had enough, he wasn’t stupid, he knew you’re holding yourself back. Sighing, he stood up and went towards you. You’re done for. That voice inside your head taunted you, as his figure loomed over your shaking one, suddenly the room felt like it was collapsing, like eyes were everywhere just waiting for you to break, you could hear them again, the whispers and mumbles from your past, your little illusion of a happier ‘you’ was shattering.

Show’s over.

Azul, was too busy trying to figure out what to do, how he could make you tell him what’s wrong. He didn’t notice you were crumbling beneath him, your heavy breaths stopped his train of thought, his attention’s now all on you. He panicked, he never meant to push you this far, he only wanted for you to feel safe around him. He crouched down, meeting your eyes.

For the first time, he saw raw emotions, but not the ones he wanted to see from you. You’re eyes wide with fear as hot tears drip and trickle down from them, you were covering your ears, you’re breathing heavily…you were scared. He felt his hand grow cold, the last thing he wanted to make you feel was scared.

He reached out, holding your face on his hands gently, as if you were made out of porcelain. “Y/n…hey….look at me…” he called out, voice barely above a whisper but loud enough for you to hear. You looked up at him, crying, trauma evident within your gaze. You thought he’d be looking at you with disgusting or betrayal in his eyes, but all there were was concern, worry, care.

“I’m sorry, I never wanted to scare you like this…” he apologized, “I only wanted for you tell me what’s wrong, There’s something wrong and I want to help you like you helped me…but I can’t if you don’t let me know…please…” he pleaded, his intentions were good, he wanted you to know that. “I’m tired…” you said. He opened his mouth to say something but you continued on.

“I’m so tired of being scared…I’m so tired of hiding…” you quietly said, your voice was weak…it broke him. “I wanted to tell you, I really did…But I just don’t wanna get hurt again, I feel like if I do, I won’t be able to fix myself…I’m so sorry Azul…” you cried, he felt the fear and pain in your voice, he wondered who could’ve hurt you so bad for you to suffer like this.

He pulled you into a warm embrace, he was also shaking, out of anger that is, he wanted to know who made you this way, who caused you pain, he wanted them to feel as traumatized as you are, but for now all he needed to do was calm you down. “Don’t be sorry…it wasn’t your fault” you sobbed hearing his words, “It’s okay… I wont hurt you, I promise…” he adds caressing your hair.

After a little while, Azul had noticed you stopped shaking, and your cries had been reduced to sniffles, and your body went slump against his. He looked down to see you asleep, he sighed, wiping the tears stains that trailed down your cheek, he felt you flinch against his touch but then eased back up.

He carried you and laid you down the couch that he filled with fluffy pillow and blankets. He made sure to tuck you in, making sure you were comfortable. When he was sure you’re fast asleep, he kissed you hand and left the room for a bit. He asked Floyd to place Grim beside you, and come right out.

When the twins were both present he told them to keep an eye on you starting now. If anyone were to talk badly about you, upset you, threaten you, or hurt you. The tweels were going take out the trash.

A/N: Once again people, not proofread lol💀 sorry in advance for mistakes I swear I’m fluent in english, just slightly dysfunctional 💀💀

Edit 1: omg I fixed a part that had missing words it was Floyd’s line, I’m so sorry that must’ve been confusing😭🤚🏻

[scream4ash]

tw 4 addiction, talks of self harm, talks of disordered eating, mental illness, self destructive tendencies, just overall me being a piece of shit.

hey, guys. ash here. i guess i wanna apologize for just dissapearing. when i had originally started posting, and decided i was going to be a writer i was sober, n in a better headspace. since then i have relapsed, n fallen into the cycle of addiction n destruction n just overall have not been in a good place.

i have struggled with substance abuse since i was around 13, mainly being alcohol or weed due to easy access. more recently in january of this year i had started abusing antihistamines. that way, i could tell myself it was just medicine, there was no harm in what i was doing. for those of you who don’t know, antihistamines are anti-allergy meds.

on march 17, i had overdosed. my girlfriend had found me on my bedroom floor seizing out. i was brought to the hospital via ambulance, n released the same day. i would love to say i stopped, n i realized the way im going would kill me, but i didnt. i had overdosed again 8 days later. this time when i was brought in to the er i was put on suicide watch. then i wouldve denied any attempts at harming myself, but deep down i didnt care the outcome. though im just now realizing i never really cared about what’d happen to me, but i think part of me always knew. i knew the consequences, i decided that god shall decide my fate.

i was then transferred from the er to a psychiatric unit where i was treated for depression n bipolar disorder.

when i was released a week later i decided it would be a new chapter. i had gotten a job, i was sober, n most importantly people saw me.

that lasted for around two months. the euphoria i felt had all come crashing down. i had slowly rejoined the forgotten, my own friends forgetting about me. i had fell back into isolation n self-hatred. i was fading out again, n no one noticed. no one noticed when i had started skipping meals, or the way my body physically could not allow itself to keep a single bite of food down, or the lack of sleep, even the empty look in my eyes. i have yet again fallen into the hand of addiction, seeking comfort from what i know is no longer there, what may have never been there in the first place. i have barely left my house, only going outside to walk my dog. i can no longer recognize who i see in the mirror. more recently i havent even been able to get out of bed to go to work.

i feel the need to clarify that i am 19 years old, the life i am living is not the life to live. i am actually all alone in the world. guys, if u, or a friend, or a parent, or a loved one, hell even ur worst enemy. if anyone u know, or may know of is struggling with addiction, let them know you are there. let them know that you havent gave up, youre still fighting for them. if ur thinking about trying drugs, or alcohol, hell even weed. don’t. take it from me. dont.

i havent been very active on here, n i am sorry. i am going to reopen my requests and start posting short works/blurbs. i will also get to the requests in my inbox, n those will be filled as blurbs. again, i’m sorry 4 bailing on you guys.

also so super sorry for the sob story, idk. kinda feels good to get this shit of my chest. idk, makes me feel like u guys know me kinda.

@calumikey @ashen-char @f4ngtooth @theactualqueenelizabeth @brittanysnowsgf @iheartambss @phorsphyn @spiderb00 @allsovls @jennaortegaswifey @liaisbaeee @xxxninjaxxx23 @chaejiberry @nohumanityhope @blakeroni @mm-myluv @amberfreemanmygirlfriend @lilahaga @mikeymisser @carolcunha7 @not-alesha @burninghotlava @shaunashipmanism @chaoticghosthoagiegoop @paigesbabymama @spidersareskrunkly @ghostampire @cursedashes @yveslish

tried to tag all of my followers, or as many that it’d tag. idk, i really want this to be seen.

[jess--posting]

(rules and other info under the cut, last updated 6/30/24) (interacts from @kirbytripledeluxe) (note that they are currently Very out of it. dont expect clear answers for anything but please feel free to send stuff)

IMPORTANT NOTES 🌿

so there are now technically four characters on this blog (even if i dont exist in pikposting) so the tagging system may be a bit confusing! stuff may get mixed up! heres a quick guide including how i color code their posts:

🍄: jess, they/them, 24 (usually the default)

🐟: me! toast or kirby, it/any, 18

🌼: oatchi, he/him, idk!! (was for an april fools prank LMAO i dont think hes staying here)

💮: hope or beep, she/her, not even one years old

ive beaten pikmin 4 as of 4/26/24!!! spoilers are fine!

inactivity spikes may happen due to plurality, disability, and ,, my generally exhausting existence. sorry about that!! as a side note if i overstep or act weird or flood the tags TELL ME.

jess is NOT a sona or a self-insert, just my avatar in pik4, though i do project onto them quite a bit 👍

RULES 🌿

1. obviously no nsfw. while jess is 24 and technically allowed to do that, not only are they asexual but im not at all comfortable with nsfw of my ocs unless were close and very explicit permission is given. and... yeah no i dont give permission for them. suggestive jokes are fine as long as theyre not directed AT them.

2. please dont get me involved in em/eto topics . i have a severe phobia of that

3. other rookies are completely fine to interact!

4. if i slip and misgender jess (i sometimes accidentally use she/her) let me know please!!! ill do the same! though do still note that jess is a trans girl, not nonbinary. pronouns≠gender but i understand the confusion

5. please no alcohol/drug abuse stuff outside of jokes (i.e. the scary weed), other characters using it is fine

6. ask before doing wizard/magic anon stuff ok ? (assuming were already in contact, if were not then dont worry about it)

TAGS 🌿

ic 🍄/🌼/💮: posts by a character

ic answer 🍄/🌼/💮: answered asks by a character

putting them in situations 🍄: rp (←feel free to mute, i use the long post tag once they start getting long but i have a list of the finished ones at the end of this anyway)

jess images 🍄: self explanatory, often reblogs from my art account! i love drawing them!

about jess 🍄: info i share sometimes

ooc 🐟: posts by me

ooc answer 🐟: answers by me

and if you need anything trigger tagged tell me! ill tag it as "tw ___" (flashing lights will just be tagged as "flashing lights")

RP LIST 🌿

3/21/24-3/23/24 🍄 — puddle going through it

3/23/24 🍄 — taking amalgam home

3/24/24-3/26/24 🍄 — lumiknoll moment

3/31/24 🍄 — super mario shaky tower hell

4/22/24 💮 — cherry brings hope and oatchi back to the base!

5/14/24-5/16/24 🍄 — (MAJOR WARNING FOR BODY HORROR + GORE) great job everyone we killed jess

6/6/24-6/14/24 💮 — hope and yonny and kingsly and oatchis great adventure

6/14/24 🍄 — hi jess :) ←pretending it hasnt been over 2 months

6/17/24-6/18/24 🍄 — THE GUILT IS NEVERENDING🔥🔥🔥

OTHER BLOGS 🌿

@heroleaf-posting

@pudle-blogging (not to be confused with puddle)

@groovylonglegs-blogging

@eyewraith-posting

@fritz-posting