#im really nervous about posting this lol. idk why

[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

[feistyvirghoe]

*♡∞:｡.｡ ᴀʟʟ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ? ~ 18+ ˚₊·➳❥ PILE 1 -3◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

PILE 1 ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

(this pile was long af, tumblr wouldn’t let me paste everything so hopefully you guys can read this well! i’m sorry!)

PILE 2 ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

PILE 3 ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

(rest of pile 3-sorry for how the messages came out in your pile but you needed to hear this, just to be aware and not fall for facades)

well we got someone here who don’t wanna play games with you, take you home, rub you down, pamper you, explore your body, making love to every part of your body, watching your movements and where your sweet spots are, this person isn’t one to fuck around, they’re serious about you, do you guys like licking ears or like the nibbling of ears, making the other person shiver, tingles down their spine, this person doesn’t want to rush anything, like they love to be in the moment, aware and mindful of what they’re doing to you, dirty talk is here so i feel like this person would just want to be up in your ear about what yall got going on if u know what i mean lol, verbal communication during sex is another way to stay present as well, this pile is all about being more present and aware of what you’re doing, not staying in your head, maybe your person will see that you get anxious and overwhelmed so they take their time and feel you out literally haha, but they’re just watching you paying attention to how you’re feeling, idk why the fuck i heard ushers confessions song so maybe someone here who you’re dealing with wants to open up to you in the bedroom, like sex is a good way for them to get their emotions out, talking you through it, so intense but just like the whispering sweet nothings back to one another and being vocal with each other. now i’m going to get some messages to see what’s truly going on here (use ur discernment, at the end of the day i don’t really know your story so just place it where it fits :) )

★strive- i have grown up since our last encounter, i have been working on myself to be the better person whom you can feel proud of.

♥︎divine timing- we are on the journey and the divine dance on the soul plane, it will manifest into the physical world in perfect divine timing, all we have to do is trust and have faith that all will work out beautifully.

★promise- i wish you knew just how special you are to me, it kills me not to be able to tell you, you amaze me with your compassion and kindness through this time apart, i promise i will make things right between us.

(i feel like for this newer person to come in you’ll have to purge, let go of, and just walk away from the toxic energy, im sorry for how short y’all’s pile is, choose another one IF you feel called to it)

sex on fire, do i make you nervous, on my mind

˖◛⁺⑅♡Lᵒᵛᵉᵧₒᵤ♡⑅⁺◛˖ thank you for clicking on my post and giving me a chance to read for you, i’ll post my pile 4-6 later but here’s the top three for now since tumblr has their limits haha ˖◛⁺⑅♡Lᵒᵛᵉᵧₒᵤ♡⑅⁺◛˖

✨4-6 available 💫

[fictionfixations]

the dawn knight in place of yuu

MAJOR JP BOOK 7 SPOILERS

(anyway i like calling him the knight of dawn but also thats too many words for a name im going to be repeating a lot throughout this post so dawn knight)

okay so. i was thinking about a fic to write where a character had a part of themselves appear somewhere else? like ive been getting into omniscient reader but i have a diff story im trying to commit to rn so i cant really write something with it when i dont really know shit that happens besides like end game spoilers lOl

but i find the idea of like the 49/51 (?) interesting? i think thats the right numbers. no context to people who dont know what that means but that part broke me even though all i know about omniscient reader is by reading a shit ton of orv fanfiction. my heart man... sob.

but so anyways my mind wandered to the dawn knight

kudos to that like one fic where the dawn knight's soul appeared and attached itself to yuu except i read it when i didnt even know who he was but i thought maybe he was a buddy of lilia so im just reading and getting confused on like no why you no like lilia what (also he doesnt remember iirc and i think that was just like a instinctual feeling cause yknow humans vs fae??) but uh i know context now lMFAO

but like

just imagine this person who looks like silver but blonde. who doesnt remember who he is (as hes kind of more of just a fragment of his soul? but like he appears in NRC and not RSA because he still has a lingering attachment towards silver. wanting to see him grow because he never got the chance to)

who worries over silver

is a little nervous around fae, but maybe this is ooc but like without all the pressure from what the fuck was his name henrik(??) and like the people around him who are all anti-fae, cause he wouldve liked it if they couldve been in peace and stuff yknow? and also without those memories so its not too difficult for him to get past that and see them as people who will probably not harm others (LOOK i just want twst characters to be happy man cause everything is so sad :((( )

anyway lilia has grown since then and doesnt hate humans. maybe he doesnt exactly know how to feel about the dawn knight (UM like cause meleanor. or is it maleanor? i think thats EN spelling but tbh if not for en i wouldnt know how tf to spell it. but uh ykNOW.. he kinda. uh. still killed.)

but then maybe it becomes clear that this dawn knight (who needs an actual name. dawn sounds too on the nose and i dont think lilia associates dawn with positive feelings considering when maleanor died didnt it turn dawn or something. and then they broke down because shes DEAD.???)

is not the same dawn knight he met so long ago.

like

idk

think about it in like a. okay im pulling out honkai star rail examples now. but think of it maybe like dan feng and dan heng where they're like reincarnations of each other? but not the same person? (some people think of them as still the same considering i think(? its been a hot minute since i went through story) those memories of those reincarnations are then shared to other incarnations to help them in high elder duty thingy whatever its called but i think of them as entirely different people who happen to look similar)

i guess you could view it as a 'i once was [this], but now im this and im not the same person who did all those things'

EDIT: I AM WRONG. 2.5 spoilers but its mentioned that someone made dan heng remember his past life so its NOT canon that they remember their past life. "...led her to perform certain healing arts on Dan Heng, who had just finished his hatching rebirth, so that he would regain the memories of his past life?" but anyway thats how it turned out so uh just pretend that i mean reincarnating/past life type deal but stlil having some of those memories of the former life

idk maybe theres some lilia treating him as another son since like. all three of them are orphans who were taken in???? like its implied parallel of lilia being taken in by the mal... dRACONIA family sorry i forgot the last name om. and the dawn knight being taken in by the whoever is in charge. like the dad of henrik(?) and that person whose name i cant remember i think it was leah who the dawn knight liked and married? but so anyway they both got taken in by a family and owe them a debt and fight for them (and care for them. although idk about henrik ew, but he was also like. wanting princess glow(???) which could supposedly grant wishes i think to like cure their ill father, and saying that the dawn knight should do it for leah or something? i cant remember but he convinced him with something something leah)

i dont know where im going with this thought but like. i remember the dawn knight said something like. if things could be different? but like it cant be because they've gone too far now to forgive each other? but like he wanted there to be peace.

i remember thinking about lilia's wish in the wish upon a star event, maybe it was similar i cant recall exactly

Lilia: My wish is... ...for humans, fae, and all other species to live in harmony. [Img of the wishing star] Trey: Haha, wow. That's a pretty ambitious wish. Lilia: To join joyous hands with one another is no simple feat, even for those among the same species... To say nothing of the difficulties across species divides. You've learned about our history, have you not? All the countless tales of our failure to compromise, and the resulting conflicts? I have no desire to see such history repeated. So I make the same wish every Starsending.

like the dawn knight expressed regret that it had to be this way and wanted things to change but it was far too late. but like. he never did that stuff now (well lilia will remember so poor grandpa but. he's also been really forgiving towards humans when doing it for someone? like he endures it? like when he was searching for a way to hatch malleus and these people were really against lilia for being fae when he just existed, and he didnt fight back because it would paint a bad picture for the draconias? there was another example related to silevr but i cant remember it im. not what i was thinking about but theres also when he contemplated killing baby silver but changed his mind because he'd been trying to teach malleus to like. 'walk in time with his neighbor' and so and so and i forgot what he said but that how could he do that when he should be like setting an example for malleus or something right?)

also silver learning who his parents are in a maybe less traumatic way (like NOT running away knowing malleus' mom might die and then oh shit the ceiling collapsed and IS THAT THE ENEMY oh god please dont let malleus' egg be hurt and then he shares the same face as me? and that ring-- cue silver hating himself and being dragged in by darkness and i am just sobbing my eyes out like no silver he loved you so much :((( )

and even if lilia still holds anything against the dawn knight. still has lingering feelings even towards this not-dawn knight. that he wouldnt want to condemn the dawn knight, and then have silver condemn himself for being of that blood even though he didnt even do anything yknow?

and then when lilia dies he can meet up with the ghosts of maleanor and raverne (is that spelled right? i genuinely cant remember the EN spelling but it was something like that. uhh.??) and i know thats sad but i want lilia to be able to spend more time with maleanor and raverne too yknow? but im not sure how to do that

maybe. like the. the the . council? i cant remember its name fshuidfh but those assholes who appeared when we made it to. blackscale(?) castle... ? i. forgor. maleficia(THATS GRANDMA RIGHT?? i get so confused by who is who in draconia) castle??

but like when we get there with malleus' egg and then maleanor dies

and theres just these voices of long dead old geezers who are bitches to lilia and i hate them and i dont know how they're still there and can talk but i dont want maleanor there because they're horrible. also they literally said her sacrifice was like noble or some shit like that and im just like BITCH- (also lilia is banned from the capital or something isnt he?? like i mean he can still visit the castle. but secretly. but still :( )

so i just think.

fully getting over stuff. heart demons. talking things out. lilia gets to talk about stuff for the first time in awhile (remember when like literally no one talked about the circumstances regarding malleus' birth or something so silver and sebek just had no idea what they were getting into??? and like i guess he could talk to baul? baur? idk which one is the one on EN i forgor. but idk man.)

not-dawn knight being a really good listener. being understanding, sharing his input where appropriate. and like he also gets some of his memories which put a lot of things into proper context. and so sharing thoughts of so and so. and just. basically this talk that spirals into moving on.

sharing frustrations, sharing things that never really got to be known.? like regrets, etc etc

since i think the last time they met was when silver father reveal, and time passed and he died so its just all these lingering things that never got to be said out loud for various reasons. like maybe because company is against so and so so to say something would be like idk maybe traitorous? i dont think thats the right word but words are hard and i keep forgetting words the moment i need them

its like. the unique point of view of talking about things between former enemies. like how they viewed things, etc etc

and then when lilias lived a full life, no regrets, he meets maleanor and raverne in the afterlife.

oh yeah also about his dorm i have no fucking idea. i honestly mostly forgot what each dorm represents but either ramshackle or diasomnia, which i know is like nobility or something? but anyway dawn knight married a princess, also i associate diasomnia with fae / briar valley which is related considering hes book 7 stuff so im pushing him there anyway

or maybe the mirror cant read him because his soul is fragmented. or maybe retcon and his soul isnt like that? idk but i like to think the other part of his soul is in the afterlife with his wife yknow? and eventually silver will be there and able to meet his mom and huggies, and acknowledging that these are who his parents are, but also that lilia is also his parent and the one who raised him yknow? there can be more than two parents in my eyes.

its just that his soul is like in half because of the part of him that wants to have seen silver grown. i think i said this earlier in the post but that since the last time he saw silver was as an infant (also he had blonde hair so-)

also wasnt infant silver asleep for like hundreds of years until it was either because someone who loved him came by (lilia) or because the spell finally wore off (which is what lilia thinks. i dont know where to put my two cents at tbh of which i think is right)

so dawn knight just sitting there in the afterlife like. ..man. my childs still not here. i mean. thats a good thing that they're not dead but like. i kinda wanna see them.

or well silvers the only one so i should be saying he but gidfhuj

also it was either leah or leia i am a dumbass? maybe leah was the EN one. idk i forgot.

anyway thats enough yapping for me

[meruz]

hi im putting all my asks in one post again. these are from like the past month and a half approx? some digimon thoughts some tmnt thoughts some art musings u know the usual

@waywardistics YAYY thank you so much for ordering! I'm glad it got to you & that you are enjoying it!

this is kind of a missive to everyone who ordered but: I am very nervous about pre-orders whenever I do them... nervous that not very many people will order, nervous that there will be supply chain or production dilemmas and I won't be able to get copies out to people in a timely fashion, nervous about having people's money but having an indeterminate amt of time where i have not yet "held up my part of the bargain" etc etc SO. THANK U GUYS...FOR ORDERING and being patient and im so glad it got to y'all

@seanonthemoon (idk why i cant tag u BUT) interesting... i gotta be honest I don't think abt the crests that much. i agree that they're very much like heres the "girl" crest heres the "nerd boy" crest etc to the point that it becomes almost meaningless. but i think what makes them even more meaningless to me, and is probably the reason they kind of designated girl/boy crests etc is that i think like the digivices they're toys and merchandise more than they are actual narrative tools LOL. I wouldve loved something with cody and mimi! theyre both so deeply empathetic and sensitive.. theres a lot they share but i think because they look so different on the surface it would make it difficult to market that merch...booo capitalism boooo toy marketing its all sexist bullshit at least here in the u.s. idk if japan is that different though.

I'm actually a little frustrated with how often 02 and 02 related media squanders cody in general lol. he feels like a parallel of izzy, joe, and TK(season 1 tk) while also being kind of none of those and suffering through lackluster characterization as a result... and then once ken joins the team it feels a little redundant. there's a couple cody-centric eps of 02 I remember really liking but then i think abt how he's been used since in like post-series content and 02:the beginning where they made him type on the computer even though obviously that's yoleis thing but because he had nothing else to do and aghh... my blood boils. i feel like the youngest but most serious anime achetype even at its bare bones is actually rly interesting idk why they don't play it up. UM. Once again my opinion is that he should be taller LOL and maybe they should play up his kendo martial arts honorable training stuff more idk. tallest + youngest + most serious just seems like a recipe for success for me. well. theres still time. and theres always fanfic.

THIS IS SO NICE TO SAY and not the first time someone has said it but i appreciate it everytime because i really admire the mm art style so much. It's like part of why I got really into the movie because I really recognized my own artistic sensibilities and aspirations in the way they stylized everything.

UM And i feel like since watching the movie and looking at all the concept art and making my own art i do feel like its only become more obvious how much my own art is lacking LOL LIKE when you see something that feels so similar I think the differences only become more stark. those artists are definitely on a different level than me. But it's nice to hear people say it doesn't look so different from their pov. thank u ^^

thank u!!!!!!! i love mundanity and naturalism... there's something so beautiful abt it to me lol... I feel like my anatomy needs work actually but ive been feeling better abt it this year so it's good to hear! thank you!

DLKGDSGDLALSNDF WAS IT TOO FAR..?? firstly, yeah I was thinking late teen/young adult ages for both of them ie 18-19ish, definitely not the age the kids are in the movie lol.

but also they arent DOING anything in that pic it is literally just a confrontation + some innuendo... I think teens should be allowed some less than subtle innuendo.. its like one of the top 3 classically teen pastimes...

this is such a funny ask to get because i feel like i haven't been able to do thin lineart until like. this past year or two maybe LOL. UM having a line-centric art job helped I think. I started on craig of the creek back in 2022 and thats a show where we spend a lot of time inking so I had a job where I was constantly moderating my line weight 40 hours a week every week for over a year. disappointingly, much of improvement is simply horrendous amounts of practice.

Here's a tip though: I think a lot of thin lineart boils down to confidence. I think instinctively we read thick, bold, fast lines as confident but theres actually a lot of obscuring you can do with a thick line. if you're not sure whether the nose on the face or a browline should be a little more left or a little more down you can hide that with a thick line and pretend its a shadow. or hide it with a bunch of quick lines and the eye can kind of approximate where looks best among the mass.. whereas a thin line is rly singular and stark and hides nothing, it needs to be precise. so anytime i know i want thin lineart i spend a LOT of time sketching, making sure i know exactly where i want my lines to go. so im not second guessing by the time im inking...

ok thats kind of a broad tip lol... here's one thats more applicable: IF POSSIBLE, lower your pressure sensitivity on your device. most devices have some way to edit your pressure sensitivity curve. I use a surface pro at home and this is what my pressure curve looks like most of the time.

When I work on a wacom it looks even more like a reverse L shape LOL. I'm naturally a really heavy-handed artist and I use a "light" or "hard" pressure curve to compensate for how hard I'm always pressing on the pen lol. if you're like me and you struggle with going too hard with the ink too fast... this will probably help a lot!

SFHASLDFH I LOVE THIS ASK this is like the type of question a person gets asked when chalk drawing on the sidewalk at recess LOL. but i understand because I've been struggling also for like. months. I think I'm finally starting to nail it down though so here's some of my observations.

[feel free to save this img but **please do not re-post it or share broadly**. my biggest fear in the world is to spend 30 min on some notes and become a widely proliferated art tutorial im not even kidding. i made it low contrast and difficult to read on purpose.]

my other tip is to just look at and study a lot of reference because that's all ive been doing. the tmnt are really cartoony so its difficult to use like actual anatomical reference unless ur going for that look BUT theres been so many adaptions in so many different styles that there's a real treasure trove of stuff to look at for how to simplify, stylize, and dissect these characters while keeping the recognizable essence. so theres lots to pull from.

If you want to expand further, it's also good to have 5) something sci-fi 6)something fantasy 7)something mundane/slice of life. a bedroom is a really good go-to. And of course some bgs can be two or more of these things at once.

I've definitely answered asks abt bg tips before but here's one specifically for if you want to do bg design for a job:

Your portfolio should probably have at least one of each of the following 1) an interior 2) an exterior 3) a cityscape 4) a nature scene. Just to cover kind of the basics of what you'd be asked to draw on any given project.

I actually feel like I don't have that many cityscrapes in my portfolio... this is something I'm gonna try to work on in the coming year LOL. OH ALSO. This is a very basic tip and people will tell you it all the time but its worth repeating: look up portfolio websites of artists who have the job you want. An easy way to do this is to go onto imdb for any cartoon or movie you like and to find the names listed as "bg/background designer" or whatever then just google that name +"art" or "animation" most artists have some public facing internet presence so it's not hard. spend time studying their work and hold those images in your head! it's a good way to get a good idea of what "industry standard" looks like and comparing ur own art to it... I know people sometimes get bummed comparing their art to others but if you can keep your head up lol.. it'll help you figure out what you need to work on!

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ok thats all i have to say sorry for typing so much. happy new year everybody who read this far LMAO!!!!!

[c0rpseductor]

random fic thots. and also fatphobia thots. and sexuality thots. Lots of topics

morningstar is just kind of about a lot of stuff that’s important to me bc it’s lestat appeal fic, and one of the things i’m planning to unpack in it is just a bunch of shit about fatphobia and desirability and eating disorders and so on and so forth

so pfeil has disordered eating habits that mostly revolve around restriction, but is still fat. he’s often on that ‘one meal a day just enough food to kinda shakily maintain basic functioning’ grind. it’s not entirely about his body image, but of course like, he’s aware he’s fat and is self-conscious about it, so it’s still relevant.

obviously this is why we need chubby chaser emet. in this narrative. emet likes fat guys. he specifically finds pfeil’s fatness attractive. it also majorly concerns him that pfeil is like…quietly and almost incidentally starving himself in the way a lot of people with eating disorders do when they’re not actively restricting. And he and pfeil just kind of naturally settle into a fairly low stakes D/s thing.

what i’m saying is i think “Please eat and don’t die” may end up getting tied up in their sexual dynamic, and between that and the general focus i feel like i’ve given to both the Idea Of Fatness and what characters are eating day to day, i’ve been kind of worried that if and when things head there readers are going to be like “what is this weird gross feeder shit all about!! Fatphobic! fetishizing! blocked and reported!”

it’s mostly a dumb concern, i think it’d help if i got some sleep lol, but like, idk. what i really want to write here is a story about a very traumatized guy coming to reclaim the idea of having a body and a sexuality and part of that is necessarily going to have to deal with the fact that he’s fat and does not eat in order to punish himself. and it like. just fucking frustrates me that i feel like if you try to touch on that in a sexual context At All then suddenly everything you do and say is suspect and fetishistic and weird and evil and fatphobic. even if you’re fat. Please make that make sense.

like. idk. food is such an important part of daily life bc without it you fucking die. eating together is a very basic human social activity. im very of the dungeon meshi mindset with this. food is a major arbiter of daily rhythms and social bonds and the way characters interact with it says a lot about them and their relationships to themselves and others and denying oneself pleasure related to eating is like. psychologically bad for you. sharing food with other people is a gesture of intimacy and affection and care. you don’t break bread with bitches you hate. Do you see where i’m going with this.

i’ve thought about just not including that dynamic bc of the way people view fat people having basically Any sexuality that acknowledges being fat as Weird Predatory Degen Fetish Shit unless you’re self-flagellating about your weight, but like. I don’t think i want to do that actually. i think maybe i am saying something important about inhabiting one’s own body and also about loving a person who is very ill.

idk. i feel silly making a long defensive post about stuff i haven’t even written yet. i think it’s more kind of like, i just wanna be able to kind of sift through my thoughts, and i wanna be able to express frustration about The Whole Thing. i think it’s kind of fucked up that i don’t feel at all nervous talking about wanting hot guys to put cigarettes out on me or hit me in the face or whatever bc that’s typical kink but the minute im like “i am fat and recovering from atypical anorexia and i would like a hot guy to think it’s hot that i’m fat and encourage me to eat because he thinks that’s hot and not care if i gained weight recovering” it’s the scariest thing in the world bc there is a significant number of people out there that think this is inherently dehumanizing of fat people. and will be offended. or just disgusted. im not even into weight gain i literally just want to be encouraged not to starve myself But Sexy. idk bro it’s fucking nuts that people take issue with this

[maaarshieee]

⎯⎯ ୨ Soft HCs & Scenarios ୧ ⎯⎯

ੈ♡˳ Wanderer x Traveler!Gn!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

i got inspired by @abyssruler's post and im absolutely inlove with the idea so i wrote about it. idk what to??? call this?? its like a mix between hcs and scenarios but like, just enjoy LOL,, b4 i start with the dottore requests (and get back to school SOBS) i just had to write this v quickly for his birthday,,, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE SILLY WANDERER MAN !!! have a good day/night!!

You undoubtedly didn't expect to find something while exploring Tatarasuna, only hoping for chests and extra loot in parts you've still yet to discover in Inazuma.

Upon opening the doors, you roamed the halls of the mysterious pavilion with your sword in hand and stayed alert for any enemies you might encounter. Coughing a little from the dust, you've just about finished your search and head back when you heard Paimon call your name.

"Eep!! There's someone here!" She squealed, then you heard a loud thud against the rickety wooden floor and another alarmed shout from Paimon.

Rushing toward her voice with a sense of urgency, the tip of your blade immediately aimed toward the neck of the unknown man in front of you, inches away from his skin.

What you didn't expect though was a... rather innocent-looking person at the end of your blade, and Paimon panicking at your threatening stance. "Ah! Did Paimon worry you!? Paimon was okay! He's no threat at all!!" She says, pushing your sword away.

And you complied without another thought, a small frown tugging on your lips as you looked down at the trembling person on the floor, frightened out of his wits when a sudden intruder appeared where he lived (you assumed) and pointed their weapon at him.

What he wore was rather odd for a place like this. His clothes were just as dusty as the room, big, vibrant purple eyes blinking up at yours with tears forming, glittering against the dim light in the room. He was small and looked frail, scared, and confused.

You honestly felt really bad, rubbing at the back of your neck with a sheepish smile and Paimon crossing her arms, pouting at your actions and for scaring the poor guy.

Paimon was quick to introduce you both to the mysterious person, then informed you that she saw him sleeping on the floor rather peacefully, then she shook him awake, leading him to shriek, which scared Paimon and fall down on the ground, which then caused all the commotion.

Taking the unnamed person (who turned out to be a doll after noticing the joints he tried his best to hide) outside of the old, abandoned pavilion, you respectfully kept your distance from him at first, keeping an eye on him while he tailed behind Paimon. You understand why he kept giving you nervous glances despite 'rescuing' him from the pavilion, you literally almost mistook him for an enemy and were seconds away from hurting him.

You quickly found out that he absolutely had no idea how to do anything, and was extremely overwhelmed at the changes that Inazuma has gone through over the years, especially when you told him after he's given you information that it has been over 500 years since he was last awake.

He grew even more afraid upon learning this fact. He tried to hide it from you, but you'd notice how his hands would shake as his eyes traveled around his surroundings, taking in the sight he hasn't seen in his years of slumber, as well as the fresh wound of his creator, his mother, leaving him to rot in that wretched pavilion.

But you proved to be a very reliable and helpful companion. You taught him many things and helped him catch on with modern society. You taught him how to cook, fish, clean anything, and how to fight (a bit, he's fairly weak and lacked the resolve to hurt anything).

You gave him books to read, and told him stories of your past adventures with your two missing siblings; you've literally become his guide in his life. The one who saved him from his eternal loneliness, the one who held out their hand to a pathetic, forgotten puppet like him and opened his eyes to the beauty of life, the beauty that resided in the mortal world.

That there was so much more behind the thin walls of that Pavilion he's been sleeping in. Fishes with multicolored scales, flora, and fauna he's never seen before, the many constellations you've pointed out in the skies when the sun begins its descent, and the people, though giving him warily and suspicious glances at first, welcomed him warmly when you, the traveler, introduced him to them as the Kabukimono.

Despite the acceptance among the villagers of the Kabukimono received, he stubbornly stayed by your side, pleading with you to not leave him and instead, let him help you look for your siblings that you've been desperately searching for. While you appreciated his offer, you had to decline with a teasing joke.

"I don't need another Paimon." You heard your flying companion gasp at that, crossing her arms and stomping on air. You thought that he'd take that joke lightly and hopefully return to the inn you both slept in, but he didn't relent, tugging your sleeves with determination blooming in his eyes.

"I can cook! Better than before!" He says, and you can agree with that. Over the past few days, he grew familiar with cooking with the help of the many humans who taught him how, and you. He was quick to pick up on the how-to's of cooking, and he seemed to have great perseverance to perfect dishes, especially yours and Paimon's favorites.

Paimon nodded at his statement, already being persuaded by his words and rubbing her small belly. "Paimon agrees! Maybe we should really bring him with us and be our cook!" She shook your shoulder, to which the Kabukimono smiled, agreeing to her suggestion.

You gave Paimon a disappointed, but unsurprised glare. "We are not making him into our chef." You firmly told them, crossing your arms and shaking your head disapprovingly. That seemed to make him falter, but he held on to your hand tightly. "I... I can help you when you're looting! Help you find chests, gather material and complete commissions-"

"What if you get hurt?" You finally asked, hardening your gaze. It quickly shut him up, and you could feel his hands tremble against yours again. One of the biggest reasons you didn't want to bring him along with you was because of his inability to fight like you. And while he can watch you along the sidelines with Paimon, unlike her, he was bigger, unable to fly, and more susceptible to attracting the wrong attention.

"I can protect myself-" Before he could finish those words, Paimon made a small noise of disagreement, and you unintentionally snorted. He huffed at that, glaring at the two of you. "Then teach me how to fight! I don't care if I get tired, bruises, or anything! I'll learn how to wield a weapon!"

You tried to stop him, to discourage him once again but his glare grew sharper. His eyes held fury, desperation, and fear. Fear of another abandonment, fear of walking through the unknown without you by his side... "You have no idea the lengths I'd go through just to be able to stay with you... So teach me! I'll be of use, I promise-"

You let a sigh slip from your lips, wrapping your arms around his smaller form. The puppet in your arms bit his bottom lip, holding back the tears threatening to fall as his arms tightly wrapped around your torso, gripping onto your clothing. It got more difficult for him not to cry when he felt Paimon on his back, joining in the hug.

"You won't be lonely with all the people here."

"But I want to be with you... and Paimon I suppose."

With a chuckle from you and an offended gasp from your flying friend, you couldn't help but give in to his desires. You didn't want to leave him either, even if you promised to visit him as much as you could. Because both of you know you can't. You're busy, and always getting dragged into Teyvat's problems, even if you were an outsider with the sole goal to reunite with your siblings.

So you did teach him how to fight. He still lacked the will to fight anything, opting to be your support in battles, but he gradually got better. He always cooked for the two of you, did the talking, and handled Paimon with a lot more care when you were busy doing something else.

It was nice to have another companion on your travels. It makes it less lonely in the vast lands of Teyvat, walking through the mysteries of the lush grounds of each nation, hand in hand.

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[scp230kinnie]

HIII!!I just saw the goth reader head cannons I was wondering if you go to more (or a fic thing up to you😭) with hunter sylvester?‼️ -anon🕷️

I CLOSED AND FORGOT TO SAVE SO IM REWRITING THIS FOR THE SECOND TIME (kill me😻)

Hunter Sylvester x goth! Reader hcs PART 2!!!!

Once again guys I am not goth though I am alternative, so if I get any information wrong or that should be removed, please comment or dm me and I will correct myself as soon as I can

Also sorry if some of these are the same as the other one I’m not rereading it

He honestly doesn’t care how you dress, but I mean the fact that you’re wearing all black is a major bonus

It honestly depends. Sometimes he'd love it, and other times, it'd give him anxiety. Like, on one hand, it's super cute, and he loves how it looks, but it also makes him *noticeably* nervous, since he's worried that people are staring at "his" person. And yeah, there *is* obviously the chance that they're just wearing it to look cool, but he'd still be a tad paranoid, lol.

He absolutely adores you. He loves seeing you in those long flowy black dresses

I’m pretty sure I wrote this in the last one, but he loves to watch you do your makeup

He does complain about how long you take to get ready though

And if he’s feeling REALLY REALLY NICE (rare) he might (KEYWORD MIGHT) let you do goth makeup on him. Makeup here being used loosely. Trad goth.

Only if you let him do corpse paint on you

Sharing makeup with ur boyfriend LMFAO

The movie is set in Oregon, idk if you’re changing that based on ur head or if ur shifting or something, but that place is full of “normal” people I’d say

So before you started dating, if you were in the same school at least, you were one of the only “alternative” people in school, and he noticed that

This guy doesn’t usually get crushes okay.

He’s married to metal

But he liked your look

You can decide how you guys meet/start dating cause there’s infinite ways

He appreciates your individualism, and that’s a part of why he likes you

He’s definitely called you emo a few times (I’m so sorry)

Teach him somethings about goth culture.

He won’t sit down and let you lecture him, but occasionally if you say some comment about the culture he’ll probably retain that information

He doesn’t really care, but he wants you to be happy, so maybe he’ll do a bit of his own research

He loves concerts, so he will accompany you to goth concerts even if he doesn’t listen to the music

He uses his dads card to buy you clothes and accessories

He will come to thrift stores with you.

He’ll say he thinks it’s stupid

Something about how he wouldn’t wear someone else’s clothes

Just force him to go through t shirts and maybe he’ll find some good band tees (neither metal nor goth but I have found sws and mcr shirts at thrift stores)

Even if he does buy some thrift store band tees, he’ll probably complain about how he could get them new from concerts or online or something

But he’ll buy you whatever you want

Imagine doing that one tiktok trend that’s like “guess whos outfit is whos 😁” and forcing him into some black dress LMFAO

speaking of tiktok, social media, whatever, he doesn’t like posting. He’ll scroll through and look and metal memes or something, but he doesn’t like posting himself and is hesitant to let you post him

But if you do post videos/pictures of him and compliment him and do couples trends, he’ll say it’s embarrassing but he secretly likes it

I imagine him telling someone about you and the other person is like “goth girl *lip bite*” or something thinking you’re like an e girl

First off, he’s a little possessive of you

Second off, (assuming you’ve taught him some stuff about being goth) he yells at them and tells them off and something about how e girls are weird

If you teach him how to take good pictures, he’ll be your personal photographer, especially if he really likes your outfit

If you actually go and ASK him to take pictures of you he’ll complain and tell you to do it yourself but he’ll do it for you anyway because he loves you

If you wear those long boots, (same goes for emos who wear knee high converse) sometimes he’ll untie them, just pull the laces or whatever just to fuck with you

He’ll go to record/cd stores and see one of the bands you like and he’ll buy it for you

He loves you no matter what you look like. I mean maybe not if ur a country person but… for the sake of fiction he loves you

———————————————————

Leave sweet home requests if you’re reading this

Also what piercings do you guys think I should get (I already have septum, navel, industrial, and ears)

[melon-colli]

Yapping about Inscryption

Just 'finished' (that's in quotes cause I'm not convinced that the games not DONE done) Inscryption and overall I really enjoyed it! I stopped live blogging after a certain point so heres a post to get those out.

!Spoilers for the whole game under the cut!

>I wasn't too sure about the art style change in Act 2 at first, and the fact that I was dog water at the new card mechanics didn't help, but it really grew on me and so did the new gameplay!

>The other scrybes were really interesting, there wasn't a single one I found boring. If I had to rank them I'd go Leshy<Grimora/P03<Magnificus. Grim and P03 only occupy the same space because I love them both equally.

LUKE CARDER INTERLUDE

>He's so quirky! Love him! Seriously though he was an endearing main character, truly creepypasta protag material. Seeing him get shot in the end really caught me off guard, and honestly shook me a little. Idk but why I didn't expect him to die, especially like that. Expected like a computer monster birthed from the old disk to get him, not for the GameFuna rep to cap him in the face. Had my chest tight for a second. Anyways rip bro, raising my mantis god to the sky.

>As for Act 3, I liked it! P03 is such a delightful dickhead, who I just know would be so annoying about Pokemon natures. Botopia was less immersive than Leshy's campaign, and I like what that says about P03's character, who cares way more about gameplay. This chapter's talking cards have my heart. Lonely Wizard specifically, but Angler was nice for the 5 minutes I knew him. (I traded him for another card specifically because he said 'choose me'. Sorry man I thought you had a plan)

>Obligatory Goobert Mention. Great guy, glad his pain was lessened by the tubes. Idk why you still want to go back to Magnificus, but I wont tell you what to do.

>The Uber bot bosses were still pretty interesting for a bot who supposedly doesn't care much abt crafting characters. I made my own special hell for the Make-your-own boss. Where for every dead card, another is drawn. P03 tried to stop me multiple times, but I was determined. For phase two I just chose leap bots for every dead card. Silly boss. Golly was also a sweetheart, loved the mole. As for the scribe Uberbot, the file deletion threat didn't get me nearly as bad since I came off of Kinitopet and knew the game couldn't actually do something like that and be on steam, but it still had me a little nervous lol (cause like what if it did?).

I got weirdly giddy at the prospect of finding the pelt man again. Idk why because I despised him in Act 1, Got a few pelts but never actually found him. Got scammed at the mart cause I thought buying the pelt would make him show up lol.

>Falling into the factory and seeing the 3 scribes just standing there scared me a little, thought they were gonna jump me.

>After that part, going back to P03 knowing what's going to happen, I felt a bit bad. At first. Sure P03's a smug jerk, but it just wanted to be free right? The walk back when it's reminiscing about the game amped this feeling up, but I love that the game yanked the rug from under me and went 'yeah no this puter just sucks' once it starts gloating. Lol. lmao. Also I didn't expect Leshy to just rip its head off wtf bro.

>Saying goodbye to everyone at the end was sad. Having one last game with the Scrybes was so bittersweet. Grimora's game was interesting, and its a crime we didn't have time for a boss battle. Leshy. Leshy I love you so much. I like that Magnificus wasn't going gentle into that good night at first, but his insistence to keep going lost him the chance to shake our hand. I was never super into his play style, but his game was really cool looking, even if im not super into that stuff. (I know the arm thing had something to do with Yugi-oh but I know nothing abt it sorry).

>The lead up to unzipping the Old Code was done so well. Grimora may have nuked the game to get rid of it, but Luke's curiosity still doomed him in the end. The totem lady's last words before we found it were quite unsettling. I don't know what was on that zip, but whatever it was clearly messed Luke up.

>I loved the ending of the game. Already talked about it in the Luke section, but it was so abrupt and final. Idk what I expected but I knew it was over when Luke opened the door for the Funa rep. Rip.

Overall, 10/10 game. There's still something called Kaycees mod for me to do, but all in all I really enjoyed it!

[borom1r]

2, 3, 7, 8, 9, 12, 14, 18, 20, 22 for lotr from the violence ask meme 😈

OK i have answered 2 already but lets do this thing fuck yea (thank uuuuuuuuuu!!!!!)

3) screenshot or description of the worst take you’ve seen on tumblr

look its not really a "take" but the amount of people who just post variations of "I don't like Boromir, he's the worst" IN THE BOROMIR TAG is genuinely insane to me. like have ur (incorrect) opinion but keep it out of the tag worstie

7) what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

uhhhh no one thank the gods. ive always disliked Denethor Because of canon. but i will say stumbling across the file index of an old LotR fansite + clicking on files w/ no preview only to find graphics thirsting over Denethor did cause massive psychic damage lmao

8) common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

idk 😭 i dont interact w/ the broader fandom really. i do find the way ppl reduce Pippin to Just a joke character in fanon insufferable tho

9) worst part of canon

BOOK!FARAMIR + HIS MIDDLEMEN SHTICK MY WORSTIE.

also ngl i do find the Aragorn/Arwen romance....... Weird. like I'm far from averse to "love at first sight" so long as it comes with the recognition that it's really more infatuation + true love takes work. and there's the fact Aragorn fell head over heels for an image of Lúthien, and Arwen's heart did not turn towards him until Galadriel dressed him up in elven finery. not to mention she was "not yet weary of her days" when Aragorn dies + has to die "whether I will or I nill" like she. wastes away? slowly alone in Lothlórien.

like idk [Aragorn kinnie voice] that's my sister, man but all that aside I do think.. Arwen deserved better? I like that the movies made her more active + I do wish she'd actually been there at Helm's Deep bc it would've been fun to see her and Éowyn bond but yeah. the vibes were off with that whole situation imho

12) the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

huh. does Théodred count? i feel like he's kind of a blank slate so fandom can just kinda run wild with him but i do genuinely enjoy writing him + find that there are solid implications for at least a friendship between him + Boromir (if not more). i mean, Boromir got a Rohirric shield from someone

14) that one thing you see in fics all the time

ok th implication here bein its sth that bothers me which thankfully i pretty much only read Aramir or Faramir/Éomer fics soooo theres not much??

i think the only things that RLLY get to me + they aren't THAT popular trope-wise (or ive been rlly good at avoiding them lmao) are fics that 1) make Boromir overly aggressive or 2) completely woobify Faramir

+ tbh the Faramir one bothers me more actually. that is a grown ass man and captain of the rangers of Ithilien.....................

18) it’s absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on…

HRM. again idk :3 <- blissfully not interacting w the broader fandom + only interacting w/ ppl w correct takes on Boromir + Rohan

(tentatively i need to start following more ppl i see some of yall in my notes + i shld follow. sorry im like a nervous dog u need to coax out from under the porch lol)

20) part of canon you found tedious or boring

side-eyeing my copies of the Histories. i need to finish those. eventually.............

22) your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

ignores?????? nothing i think (thankfully lmao) but i will say there is SO much detail in the films that it makes me INSANE. ik we literally just talked abt this in DMs lmao but i could sit n talk abt LotR costuming for fucking HOURS the films were SO stunning and the clothing alone reveals sooooooo much abt the characters i think its a super underrated vehicle for character analysis :3

[boydepartment]

TXT as Creepypasta Stories

a/n: okay so i was a little nervous to post this however i am in a spooky mood and i just wanted to put out something a little silly and fun. i grew up on creepypastas so i wanted to put this out :) i really hope none of you find this post weird LMAO warnings- this is HORROR so subjects of death, bullying, etc is present in this post. i tried to censor it as much as i could and i added my little comments in this as best as i could to make them more lighthearted

MASTERLIST wc- probably like 250-300

soobin- lavender town

lavender town syndrome was derived from the first pokémon game. the bgm of the town in the game had frequencies that led to kids yaknow dying. later on nintendo lowered the frequencies so kids stopped dying‼️

this one was a classic and soobin loves pokémon so i really thought it fit him :)

link to creepypasta

yeonjun- ticci toby

ticci toby’s story is about this kid who’s like extremely bullied and it’s kinda fucked up that the creator named him ticci toby because i’m 90% sure he has tourettes in the story. but that’s besides the point. he ends up like getting rid of his dad and runs in the woods, then gets adopted into the slenderman mansion ⁉️ that’s if i’m remembering correctly LMAO im relistening to the story rn, i forgot how well it was written

I HONESTLY JUST GAVE HIM TICCI TOBY BC I USED TO HAVE A CRUSH ON TOBY WHEN I WAS LIKE 11 now im older than ticci toby and i feel ancient.

link to creepypasta

taehyun- jeff the killer

okay gonna be fr, the only reason why i remember his story so well is because of laurenzsides sims 4 rendition of the creepypasta. jeff was this kid who had a really hot brother(sorry(I AM LIU’S AGE NOW THIS IS A WIN)) and two parents. from what i remember everything was chill w his parents and brother but he was just bullied. and then at a birthday party he got lit on fire??? and bleached??? then he kills everyone. OH MY GOD THE KIDS LIKE BULLIED HIM⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️ I DO NOT REMEMBER THIS AT ALL⁉️⁉️⁉️ oh his parents were nice :( this is so sad

i thought giving taehyun a classic was good for him. jeff the killer is like THE creepypasta just like kang taehyun is THE hot guy 😇

link to the laurenzside sims 4 creepypasta video lol

beomgyu- russian sleep experiment

the russian sleep experiment was, you guessed it, an experiment. from what i remember the experiment was conducted during a war to test endurance. the prisoners from said war were told they would be set free if they followed through with the experiment. the prisoners were locked in a room and the scientists leaked this gas in the room to keep the prisoners from sleeping, without having sleep the prisoners go insane and start to kill eachother

the russian sleep experiment is honestly my favorite creepypasta. i read it a few years ago and then shane and ryan read it on are you scared and i was hooked. i feel like beomgyu would really like it.

link to the watcher video explaining the russian sleep experiment

hueningkai- ben drowned

basically this guy, finds a bootleg majoras mask game and starts getting haunted by this kid named ben who once again you guessed it! drowned! okay apparently there was a cult i don’t remember that at all if i’m being fr.

I LOVE ANYTHING LOZ AND IDK I THINK THAT IT FITS HIM‼️

link to the creepypasta

[unhingedkinfessions]

so like not really a kinfession but kinda wanna know if how im feeling abt this is valid (no pressure to respond if u guys dont want to btw!)

so my bf and i are planning on making a comic based around our "sonas" (idk what else to call them), but how these came to be was us literally drawing ourselves how we see ourselves essentially. like for me, im demonkin, so i just drew how i remember myself and then projected all my memories to this "character" and i think my bf did something really similar to that when making his, so basically we are these characters and they are us

after a while we added aspects to them that dont reflect memories (such as the two of them dating) but more so reflect us CURRENTLY, as well as some random things that just make sense and these "sonas" became very important to us and huge parts of ourselves (naturally, since we are them)

now wed love to do this and possibly post the series on tumblr and/or another site as a nice project between the two of us but thats when my bf realized: what if people kin them? and it kinda made us uncomfortable thinking about it since its based off our own otherkin experiences and that theyre literally us

so basically what id like to know is if itd be wrong to ask people to not make fan works (if it gets popular) and tag them as kin and stuff? weve seen people mark stuff with that and so thats why i planned on doing that, but do u think people would understand our discomfort? ik people cant help kins, but id feel a lot more comfortable if people didnt make it comfortable they're whole public identity based around one of us or used our work as face claims and stuff. am i being irrational or is this understandable?? (sorry if any of this sounds repetitive im kinda nervous lol)

the thing is, if this does get popular (and thats a big if- i dont mean that as an insult you truly cannot predict these things) yes there will be issues. youre not being Irrational, and i understand where ur coming from but im *in* the same community as you & kin also. if this gets popular, there are inevitably going to be people who dont understand and ignore that boundary, because you cant exactly stop people from doing that once smth gets big. theres a difference between like, asking someone to not kin tag an art post vs not kin from a Popular Piece Of Media, yk? it wouldnt be a wrong thing to ask for no. but if youre ok w the possibility that this could blow up ur gonna have to realize that you cant control an entire fanbase that closely and what ur afraid of is likely to happen. tldr i think this is understandable but im not just the average consumer that doesnt have the full story

[juvederm]

i wish i had more josh mutuals that don't seek to include chris in everything like. i don't hate chris at all or dislike cc, i said this already but. just clarifying again.

i don't like how most ppl who like josh don't even really like him. they usually like josh if chris is also there. like y'all don't get me. i'm here solely for josh and i like to have fun w characters on their own. i don't get why most interpretations of josh always include sam or chris.

and abt ppl only liking josh when sam or chris are there-- i don't mean to be rude, but josh is more interesting than those two combined, bc of the stuff he has going on beneath the surface. he doesn't need them to be interesting, he's already compelling enough on his own.

im still insecure about posting in this fandom even tho i do it every day. but i'd be less nervous about posting my josh stuff if the people who claim to "like him" weren't so. odd. cuz the josh mutuals i have rn (who solely like josh on his own...) are okay with every silly doodle i draw of josh, bc they don't care. they're here for him and they just like him

meanwhile cc likers that i've met are really. not people i get along with. bc like i said, they kinda only like chris and josh and that's it. id go as far to say they don't even like the game lmfao bc they only like it for cc.

idk... real josh fans are ok with seeing him in a dress from time to time lol. one of the main reasons i can have fun with his character is bc i know Allll there is to know about the source material + josh's canon depiction. which i honestly love, i don't need to change josh in order to like him. but i feel like some ppl do that and those r the people i can't get along with

i wish ppl were more open to having fun w these characters. posting them in silly outfits and such shouldn't be like, anxiety inducing lmfao i want to have fun and i wish others would be more open to that but as of rn, it just doesn't seem that way.

it's hard to tell if i'm making this up or if my anxieties are real, but the thought of it being real is enough to have me stress over it every time i think of posting or if i'm drawing something.

but everyone who follows me for ud-- hi, thank you for following and liking and reblogging my stuff, esp thatoneudguy cuz he supports like everything i say and make lol (and special shout out to queerkearney for always complimenting my work, its rly motivating <3) y'all are cool!!

[p1xiemeat]

ive been living with sensory issues my whole life, i freak out when someone makes small changes to my routine, like i hate doing spontaneous things, most of the time i hate physical affection, & i have such a hard time socializing & making friends. i have bipolar disorder and other disorders like anxiety, etc. but my treatment for those things doesn't help with these other issues i have. i hate being like this and i want to work toward change but i don't know what to do to work toward it. 😞

like i said i have trouble making friends and i always have since i was a kid. i've always felt like an alien compared to other ppl. and that's fine because i prefer being alone. but i hate that i can't act normal in social situations and ppl always think im rude or weird when im not trying to be 😢 and it sucks because i kinda have to be in social settings sometimes because i have children. and i dread it for these reasons every time. nobody is interested in the same things as me. and when i talk about my interests ppl tell me im too obsessed with something or tell me its weird altogether. which hurts. and when i am able to make "friends" i always get taken advantage of because i can never tell when someone is taking advantage of me and my kindness or if they have malicious intentions with me. and i feel stupid every time because my bf will tell me they are "obviously playing you" or my mom will say stuff like "can't you tell that they aren't interested?" or the one i always get is "why can't you see that this guy is flirting with you/trying to sleep with you."

idk if im just having a panic attack or a mental breakdown or what. but this has been building up inside of me for years. i feel so stupid and weird. i have to carry lotion around with me because if my hands don't have moisture on them at all times i literally sit there with chills going up my spine and i can't touch anything. certain clothes make me want to rip my skin off. and my family gets annoyed every time i have to run back in the house because i forgot to grab it. which just adds to the guilt i feel for being this way and i can't control these issues no matter how hard i try.

i've literally made so many lists and "rules" for myself on how to act around ppl and i try so hard to follow them just to get through whatever event is going on.

i think thats why i throw myself into my interests and use them to escape reality so much. once i find something i like i become obsessed with it forever and i talk about it so much to the point where my bf tells me its too much. certain characters and shows are the only thing that brings me comfort sometimes. i have so many unnecessary lists and categories for my interests. i know its very time consuming and pointless but just having them makes me feel better. like pinterest for example is my best friend lol. making these lists and stuff just soothes me in a way. as stupid as that sounds. but even tho it comforts me it still makes me feel stupid because ive never met anyone else who does that.

i've never ever spoken about this stuff online/publicly before. mainly because of embarrassment and fear of being bullied for it since ive already been relentlessly harassed for a million other things. i just have so much anxiety all the time. and doing pointless things helps with it but i want to stop feeling this way. or at least have answers as to why i am this way so maybe i can fix it. im tired of feeling awkward or different from other ppl. i want to be normal and pleasant to be around. i want to get along with the other parents at school functions instead of being scared to talk to ppl. i can't even make eye contact with anyone i talk to. ive tried since i was LITERALLY a child and no matter what i always get scared or nervous and look away. and its really noticeable to other ppl because they've mentioned it to me.

i'm posting this to vent but also maybe someone reading this has gone through the same thing or can help me. because i feel so hopeless and im scared im going to be this way forever. ive only been able to find info on the sensory thing and ive found that there is no way to get rid of it. ive tried everything and ive given up on that. but i know i can change my actions and how i interact with ppl if i can just figure out WHY i am like this.

pls don't laugh at me or say anything mean if you choose to comment on this post. i already have so much anxiety and fear about posting it. i don't want sympathy or anything like that. i just need help 😞🥺😢

i have an appointment booked for seeing a psychiatrist but that isn't until november i haven't seen one since i was a little kid. so i'm hoping to maybe get some answers in the meantime.

i already can't work and im getting disability soon because my bipolar is so crippling. it affects my ability to function so much. and i have these other problems on top of it. the fact that i can't even make a living like "normal" ppl makes me feel bad about myself already. and since i can't get a job or a career i want i just want to feel normal in my everyday life and around ppl AT THE VERY LEAST.

[gemapples]

Rant away my friend

apparently a few people wanted me to vent about the kirby novels so head in hands ig i'm gonna go for it LMAO (this is inspired directly from @desultory-novice 's posts about it)

ALSO IM SORRY IF THIS IS SO DISORGANIZED gonna be honest i forgot a good half of what i wanted to talk about. But Anyways. please note that all of this is entirely My opinion you ofc dont need to agree and despite everything i actually really love and enjoy the kirby novels a lot !!

so okay after hearing her talk about the reason we're likely not getting a magolor epilogue novel and knowing takase's erm.... Infamous reputation regarding how she handles magolor's character that had me thinking a lot and. Wow i'm kind of Really nervous for how this magoland novel will turn out actually because a lot is kind of at stake here when you think about it

takase will either be forced to actually develop magolor's character, or she will just completely scrap everything that happened earlier, remove any mentions of the epilogue and go straight back to square 1 where magolor is -- once again -- the villain of the story. Don't get me wrong i like evil magolor a lot lol i think if done right it can be a very enjoyable portrayal of his character. but there's only So many times you can make a character the antagonist before it just gets straight up exhausting y'know

i think it's ESPECIALLY different in terms of magoland. This might be a cold take idk lmao but merry magoland isn't just some wacky little theme park magolor created out of the blue for no reason. It's something that signifies and sets in stone how he's a changed character. Merry magoland is magolor's dream he's had for a really long time by his own words and truly shows that all he's wanted to do is make people have fun and be happy. if you make him the antagonist in that, that completely just fucks up Everything relating to his character and renders that entire development null and also invalidates all the hardships he's gone through to make that happen

i do think takase's portrayal of magolor is fun! i do enjoy it and i do appreciate how he has a hard time communicating his desires and showing true friendship. i think that's important. one of magolor's most significant flaws is how he has a hard time understanding how friendship is supposed to work and what to do when you have friends. but maybe instead of making him the villain. Over and over and over again you could idk... have him Learn?? and actually Develop from his issues??? i know waddle dee is a completely separate character but for the sake of comparing to another person who has gone through a huge amount of development in the novels -- why can't magolor do the same? why is it constantly so insistent that he be the one causing all the problems for no reason other than haha it's funny (in most cases at least. i know dreamy gear was different and i will give it a giant shoutout for that)

i'm so sorry if i sound too harsh here i literally don't know how to word it otherwise lol i think it's important to emphasize that despite everything i do like seeing magolor's character in the novels. but it just gets to a point where it's Grating to me at times and depending on the scenario is just completely inaccurate. that's why i think magoland is such a huge point for us here with a lot on the line -- if she chooses to not make magolor the antagonist and make it accurate to the game's actions and desires, that will be an essential key for his development and showcase that we're actually making progress with his character. but if she chooses to make him the antagonist again, the potential for him being something more than a villain -- which is RIGHT there -- is completely wiped

afaik magolor and kirby's friendship was also mentioned and i just want to throw out there. merry magoland happened because of kirby. merry magoland happened because of magolor's friends. kirby, meta knight, dedede and bandee are the reason merry magoland exists. so if takase chooses to not acknowledge any mention of that and make magolor go against them all, that also erases the potential of magolor's relationship with other characters as well yknow... the characters he's gone against for this whole time? it also makes no sense whatsoever??

so yeah this is a bit long but there's just a lot to either look forward to or dread about this novel -- or even both lmao -- the more i thought about it. i want to have a decent amount of hope that i could be wrong here, maybe takase will take advantage of what she has to work with game wise and create something truly special. but throughout all of magolor's appearances in the novels... *hand on mirror* it seems like all of his character is constantly scrapped in favor of treating him like some apathetic irredeemable character with no regard for others or understanding friendship. so that's kind of a hard pill to swallow

[its-koili]

hey guys. sorry for being gone for so long. heres an update

(tw for: mention of violence / gore, general distress, mental health issues)

(tw below)

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basically i had a huge mental health crisis. i was having 24/7 constant rolling panic attacks from may of 2023 to january of this year. my last big meltdown was in early february. been processing a lot of CSA trauma and some recent trauma that ive gone through. i think i talked about my panic attacks before leaving social media but idk i dont remember. isolated myself from absolutely everybody.

the main thing that made me leave was that while i was keeping up to date on the g3n0c1d3 (censoring bc idk how tumblr is about it), and when i was looking in the replies / related of the awareness videos, i came across 4 accounts dedicated to using gore for clicks / shock. not videos of the g3n0c1d3 (thank god bc of how they were using the vids) but of unfortunate every day situations and cam footage. like, the kind of stuff you could see on liveleak back in 2010. just out in the open on twitter. they all had usernames like "(insert number here) ways to die)". they were all content farms for click/ad revenue. it was too much it was a huge trigger and i had a full on meltdown. the bluecheck ppl on twitter were using the replies of the videos people uploaded for raising awareness to upload mindless g0re for money. the fact that peoople have 0 compassion for human life sent me into a spiral that i couldnt get out of. (i reported 3 out of the 4 accounts i was able to and 3 got taken down but 1 is still up and it odesnt seem to be uploading the hardcore g0r3 anymore. so thats good. but that was one of the reasons i left social media. ive been keeping up to date w the news but thats it. i left my socials entirely and ive only been on my phone to look up recipes or to use my computer for media research groceries and gaming and shows

that was the main thing that pushed me to leave. i just couldnt take it anymore. during the start of my crisis last year, i was planning on taking a small break, but all of that pushed me over the edge and i dropped everything. after that, my issues got worse and i dont remember most of it. thankfully. but i couldnt bring myself to talk to anybody. i isolated myself and just. laid in bed. but im doing better so i guess thats good

on another topic ive beeen nervous to post this on main but during all of this (ive talked abt tihs a little bit on my priv before i left) i found out that im a system a long while back. my dad (one of my abusers) had/has DID and it terrified me to think that i could be anything like him. i also knew cereal abuser who pretended to be a system to get away with stuff/abusing their friends (and then years later admitted that they werent a system and siad that systems are fake.) LOTS of tears. lots of crying over this. was in denial for a few weeks. cried some more. then eventually came to terms with it.

i dont want to post abt my system online too much bc i dont want to act like this is some fun trendy thing bc its not. it makes day to day living very hard (some lighter/funnier issues that make it hard are: arguing with an alter bc YOU dont know where THEY put YOUR MEDS, not being able to cook because one alter can and the other cant, your art style not being consistent because their styles are different). i dont want to really make it a massive part of my identity online bc its not a big deal! theres just Multiple Little Guys in my brain. so. im a system! im the same but....this explains why i dont remember talking to certain people SUIDHUFHX. i always felt bad. makes conversing with online friends hard especially if icons/usernames are changed. ill make a separate post about this someday thatll go into detail a bit more.

i went years thinking it was just "kinning" but it wasnt lol. it turns out that your personality completely shifting, tastes in food / music / art / media changing, the way you walk / talk dress changing, and having complete memory blackouts when you """"kin shift"""" isn't normal. /lh (dw ive had a lot of time to come to terms with this)

but basically right now ive been spending time getting to,,know myself?? iive been using simplyplural for myself for several months and im uncovering a lot of my memories / trauma ect bc alters can write down what they need to in the chat. so i can go back later and read it. its been v helpful!

i will not be coming back just yet. i have no interest in using social media rn or drawing or writing unfortunately. ive been working on my original stuff here and there but i havent been drawaing fandom stuff bc im not hyperfixating on a fandom.

also. some things have come up. im not going to say anything until the party in question is stable/safe/comfortable before i even suggest anything for context (i dont plan on talking abt anything at all unless they start talking publicly). right now i am helping someone through abuse. their wellbeing is my #1 concern. i'll think about other things after im sure theyre okay.

i dont really have any resolutions as to how things are going but i do feel better and im not having as many panic attacks. i dont really know where im going with this now sorry. just trying to brush over the basic topics before i go. idk if anybody remembers me bc ive been gone for so long so idk if im just talking into the wind but if i am thats fine honestly this is helping me reorganize my thoughts (i type these vents out a lot on docs so i probably wont remember posting this hiudhvu)

other than that. i dont draw or write anymore. i think in the past 6 months ive drawn like....5 things. its. weird. im completely disconnected from fandoms now. coming up to a full year of not having a hyperfixation at all.

my bday was on the 6th. im 27 now im very old (everybody forgot it asides from my husband (and the people he reminded) n my abuser). ive been trying to cook and bake more and ive been playing video games again. planning on getting back into drawing soon and working on my original stuff. when i come back im planning on redesigning my profiles and updating my social media bios and stuff bc theyre so old. also ill make a section on my carrd for my system. there you go theres some positivity to the update nxfjdfjh. sorry if i dont seem very enthused im very tired so typing has been a chore hfuidshuifv.

sorry that this was a lot or if it seems disjointed i was trying to put down as much into this as possible without making it too long

bye!!! see u all soon!

[metallteeff]

my long gender post lol

idk how long it’ll actually be but like. god i’ve been thinking a lot about the idea of “knowing since you were a kid” recently and for the longest time i thought i didn’t really know but recently i’ve remembered and realized to an extent i did know but in the vein of “who cares” and i guess i just always assumed everyone else felt the same. like i just thought everyone was like who cares, but ill just wear this thing because everyone else does.

and i used to be really nervous and somewhat afraid of bringing up my autism and other things in relation to my gender because so many people use it to discount and discredit your experience, especially when it’s brought up as a cause of you being trans. i’ve always been afraid of someone coming up to me and saying “you’re not trans you’re just autistic and confused” which would be a double punch for me.

but i’ve started realizing thinking that way as a kid, before i knew any words to describe myself other than “weird”, was me knowing i just thought everyone also felt like that. and i have that issue often. that i just assume everyone sees the same thing as me, and then thinking we all process that information the same because i just think that’s how brains work.

what makes me sad is you can’t even be “odd” anymore. if people just saw me as some really weird off the deep end “girl” still i wouldn’t really care. i really try not to care what others perceive me as in terms of gender because to me it’s “not their business”. but even just having really weird or unique clothes at this point can get you clocked or treated weird. and i mean this to point out how awful it is that if you just dress kind of “weird” there is a larger chance of you being hurt or turned away or ostracized.

now when you dress “odd” you immediately have an agenda. you have some sick disease or people roll your eyes when you’re around. and i’ve never understood this hateful lens of obsession people have with clothes. i love clothes i definitely have a clothes obsession but they have always been some form of a costume to me. because that’s what they are. you dress up how you’d like to look like in them. so if i have the ability to dress how i desire why wouldn’t i? and if i was a “girl” you would still look at me funny. if i was a “guy” you definitely would. and because i lie inbetween ill never be taken seriously and ill always have this large neon sign above my head that flashes “NONBINARY” which people hate. people get so mad.

over the years i’ve tried to become “tougher” through saying i’m more “reasonable” than other nonbinary people. i just wear t shirt and jeans and im just like you! im more masculine and im nonbinary but i will only use he him! but oh my god it’s wearing down on my soul. it’s grating. and i’m so upset that i made myself do this. for myself for others and im mad that it’s something i felt like i had to perpetuate to be “taken seriously”. being a person is the most unserious thing in the world.

i’m so tired of “gender roles” and i have been since i was 12 and saw others sharing this sentiment and im tired because its confusing. it doesn’t make sense even historically. when boys wore pink because its closer to red. but suddenly now it’s some omen that an “agenda got you”. i have never understood any of this so i’ve never participated but by doing that i was punished. and when i participated i was hurt worse. there’s no point in playing this made up game so why should i have to care im sorry i really don’t. i dont at all.

i’m not trying to make a big point or anything. i mean this as when i was a kid i had absolutely no concept of gender. and when i tried to it hurt me awfully bad. my parents themselves were not that strict with gender roles besides telling me what the world would expect but i could always do “boy” and “girl” things. i mean this as when i was a child i genuinely thought i was a boy because i would sex myself by counting my ribs to make sure i had 13 (…) and i “always did” (i was like 7 lol). i had no concept because lionesses do all the work and big blue peacocks are male. this shit is all stupid and it never made sense to me since i was a kid. and i don’t think it will ever be “because” of anything. people will always try to put a cause but i felt like this when my life was perfect and happy when i was 6 years old and i had no hardships. it felt like this when it got harder it felt like this when it got worse it feels like this now. there’s no point to this.

this is very very long but i have been nonstop thinking about it. i have always felt stuck in my gender identity because of the rules put on this stuff and im sooooo so so tired about it. i feel like ive come out 5000 times because i dont know what im supposed to be. i’ve tried hard to find labels and do them right over and over but god. and it’s not that i don’t identify or feel connected to being queer, i very much do, but to me (and especially at this point) i don’t feel connected to being the “alternative” because it doesn’t make any sense. but being queer and especially trans you get painted as the undesirable alternative. you become “what happens sometimes” and then they’ll try to explain it. give it reason. their parents weren’t the best. they have a gene or a mental disorder or illness. they’re autistic and confused. they have identity issues. they’ll grow out of it. but i’m soooo tired of having to have an explanation. oh my god. because no one else does and when you point it out they get mad and turn it on you.

i don’t really have a nice way to wrap this up. and this is not the 5001 coming out post. i’ve known i’m gender fluid for the past 2ish years. i know what i am. i’m queer. as in odd as in gay as in “alternative” as in shapeless as in confusing. i know who exactly i am by being an ever changing thing but that’s seen as being unstable and lost in yourself instead of curious or intrigued by others explorations. i am just sick of having to explain myself to cis people and having to be seen as a “good example” in every facet of my life, related and unrelated to this.