#of course after i looked it up i realized that was the point. it was supposed to feel off.

[whatifitis]

♡ Cursing The Daylight - LN 4 ♡

Summary: Lando hates knowing you never sleep well so when he believes he's figured out why, he makes it his mission to save his sleepy girlfriend from sleep deprivation.

Author's note: A little blurb thing I wrote at 2 am. I tried my best 😭

WC: 1045

CW: Lando being a bit dumb and the sweetest person ever, fluff

You were currently cursing the daylight, watching as a blue bird flew past your window.

Fucker 

It was yet another sleepless night in your apartment. You continued to stare at your alarm clock, waiting for it to go off, a little reminder that if you were capable of sleeping properly, you’d still have 5 more minutes of sleep. 

For most of your life, especially in recent years, you’ve never been able to get a full night's rest. You’d always end up tossing and turning for hours, as well as waking up about 7 times a night. Every day you would feel irritated and restless due to your lack of sleep. 

However, whenever you slept over at your boyfriend's house, you always managed to get a good night's sleep. You and your boyfriend, Lando, have been together for about 5 months. The first night you two had spent together, was the first time you’d been able to sleep well. You woke up bright and early and you felt amazing, like nothing could stop you. 

Over the course of your relationship, Lando came to be aware of your inability to sleep well most nights. Whenever you would sleep in your own apartment, Lando would receive mass amounts of texts from you, all about how you slept terribly and that you either needed a nap or many coffees. 

Lando, being the ever so lovely person he is, picked up on something. The only times you would get a good night's sleep, waking up and not needing to complain about anything and everything, was when you slept at his place. 

The mattress! The boy thought, she sleeps better at mine cause my mattress is fucking mint. 

Upon realizing this, Lando goes and orders the same exact mattress he has, and has it sent to yours. He thought it’d be a nice surprise for you so that you can get a goodnight sleep every night. Another plus would be that you guys are coming up on your 6 month anniversary, this counts as a gift right?, thinks Lando. 

The day Lando gets an email stating that the mattress was out for delivery, he books it to your place, wanting to be there to see your reaction to his gift and so that he could help you bring it in and set it up. 

Lando arrives at your apartment, greeted by you with a massive smile and sparkling eyes. He wastes no time in pulling you to him by your hips and wrapping his arms around your torso. As you wrap your arms around his neck you say, “As much as I love seeing you, what are you doing here? I thought we were going to meet up later tonight for movie night.”

As Lando pulls away to look at you, the postman has just arrived. “That’s why.” he says, smiling cheekily and pointing to the truck behind him. 

The both of you watch as the postman begins to unload the mattress from the vehicle, before Lando jumps in and helps the man drag the mattress to the door of your apartment. 

Whilst Lando and the man bring the mattress into your apartment, you stand there dumbfounded. 

What the actual fuck is going on? The only thing I’ve ordered to my apartment is a new book and I don’t think the book is that big? Wait, did I order the right thing?!

As soon as the box is in your living area, you confront Lando, “Lan, my love, my gorgeous boy… what the fuck?” you ask, pointing at the big ass box in your living area. 

Your Lan stands there next to the box, all but swaying as he stands and gives you the biggest smile he could plaster on his face. 

The cheeky fuck. 

“It’s a mattress!” he says as he poses next to it, adding a pose for effect. 

“A mattress?” you ask.

“A mattress.” 

After a moment of silence, where you contemplated whether to strangle him or take his credit card away from him, you ask “Why?”

“Cause, you’re always tired and you never sleep well unless you’re at my place. So I figured out why! It’s because you find my mattress to feel so much better and comfier. I even ordered the same bed sheets I have, but I got yours in green since it’s your favorite color. They should be here tomorrow though so for tonight you can spend the night with me or we can use your old sheets.” he proposes, smiling so wide it makes your heart melt from the sweetness that you don’t deserve. 

He gets you the same mattress he has in his home, for your home. 

“I sleep better at yours because you’re there. Not because of the mattress, you muppet!” you exclaim. 

You watch as Lando’s face immediately drops, “what?” he asks. He’s truly been stunned with this information, “What’d you mean it’s not because of the mattress? You mean to tell me I haven’t helped solve your sleeping issues?! I thought I was smarter than all the doctors you’ve seen for this issue!”

You can’t help but laugh at your boyfriend's statement. 

“Gorgeous, you thought that of all the doctors I’ve seen… that none of them have thought that I was sleeping on an uncomfortable mattress?” 

Lando just stood there silent, blankly staring at a wall, likely contemplating all his life choices. 

“Fuck. So, do you not want the mattress? Seems like a hassle to return.” he states as he scratches the back of his neck, wondering how he’s going to return the heavy ass box. “Wait, you sleep better when you’re around me?” he looks at you, somewhat shocked. 

You walk up to him, taking his hands in yours and making him look you in the eyes, “Gorgeous, in the time we’ve been together, we’ve slept on couches and several different mattresses. And I always sleep well no matter where or what we are sleeping on. I sleep better because I’m with you, I feel safe with you.”

“Oh… oh!” he giggles a bit. Red starts to lightly color his face, he’s blushing, “That’s nice.”

You don’t think you’ve met anyone more awkward than this man, but you love him because of that, not in spite of it. 

[elikajinnie]

Enchant me - P.S

P: Ravenclaw!Sunghoon X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Suggestive Content, Angst, Sunghoon is kinda mean (not to you), Academic Rivalry, Tension, Fluff, Teasing, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Newt Scamander Mention!!

Synopsis: You’ve always found yourself in competition with Park Sunghoon, a brilliant Ravenclaw who seemed to have it all—intelligence, charm, and ambition. Whether it was academic duels or playful banter, he was always your rival. Yet, the only thing he truly wanted was you.

Wordcount: + 30k ( i know.. im sorry)

a/n: yall strap in for this one.. (heeseung is the last one that will be posted soon :) if yall wanna see more of the hogwarts au let me know!

masterlist

--

You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when you started being an overachiever in your studies. It was a gradual thing, a slow shift that snuck up on you and became part of who you were. When you received your letter to Hogwarts, you were ecstatic—absolutely thrilled by the thought of magic, the possibility of flying, the enchantment of potions, and the spells. But then you saw the material and you knew right away that in order to succeed, you had to study.

But it didn’t stop there. As you poured yourself into your work, absorbed every bit of information, you started to realize something else—something that fueled you even more. Praise. Recognition. House points. The feeling of achievement after every successful spell or potion, the way other students came to you for help. It was intoxicating. The more you learned, the more respect you gained, and you could feel your status growing. It was simple math, really: hard work plus success equals recognition. And you thrived on it.

Soon enough, you became known as one of the top students at Hogwarts, the one everyone turned to when they needed help or advice. And you liked it. You liked the feeling of being ahead, of being the best at something. You liked the way professors praised you, the way your name carried weight when spoken in hallways. You’d earned this position. You deserved it.

But, of course, you weren’t the only one who excelled. There were others, too, students who worked just as hard as you did. And you were fine with it. You respected them; they respected you. It wasn’t about competition—it was about mutual recognition.

Then there was Park Sunghoon.

He was a quiet Ravenclaw, one who kept to himself for the most part, except when he was in class. That’s when everything changed. He had a way of standing out without even trying—his answers sharp, his insight keen, his mind quick. Every time you thought you had the answer, Sunghoon was already there, raising his hand or blurting it out in that effortless, nonchalant way. And every single time, your chest tightened, your stomach dropped. He was always just a step ahead of you, and you hated it.

But what really made your blood boil wasn’t just that he outperformed you—it was the way he did it. The way he would always, always look at you with that damn smirk. That teasing, almost mocking expression, as if he knew exactly what it did to you. As if he relished in it. Every time he answered a question before you, every time he earned praise or house points, he would glance over at you, eyes glinting, that smug smile never leaving his face. It wasn’t just a simple exchange of competition. It was personal. It was deliberate. And it drove you mad.

It didn’t help that Park Sunghoon was everything you hated and everything you secretly admired. He was smart—impossibly smart. His resourcefulness in class was unmatched, and every time he spoke, it felt like he had all the answers. And on top of all that, he was tall, handsome, with perfectly styled hair that never seemed to fall out of place, his Ravenclaw robes always crisp and neat. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t catch yourself staring at him sometimes, trying to pretend you weren’t affected by how effortlessly he seemed to glide through life. He was always polished, always put together, and you hated how good he looked doing it.

It only made things worse when you started realizing that you were developing feelings for him. A crush, despite everything. Despite the way he ignored others, brushing them off like they were nothing, like they were dust clinging to his perfect robes. You couldn’t help it. He was attractive, there was no denying that. But it wasn’t just that—it was the way he held himself. The prefect badge on his chest always gleaming, always sparkling. The way he moved through the castle with an air of authority, a quiet power that seemed to command the attention of everyone in the room.

If Sunghoon deemed you as beneath him, he wouldn’t hesitate to let you know it—not directly, of course. No, that would be too obvious. Instead, he would treat you like one of the ghosts haunting Hogwarts, barely sparing you a glance, letting his indifference cut deeper than words ever could. You’d watch him glide past students who tried to catch his attention, their hopeful faces falling as he brushed them off without a second thought. His expression would remain blank, that neutral, almost cruel face he reserved for people he deemed unworthy of his time.

And the moments when he was forced to acknowledge someone? That’s when his sharp, silver tongue came out. You’d witnessed him being cold and dismissive, shutting down anyone who dared to push their luck. He had a way of saying just the right thing to make people feel small, a razor-edged wit that cut through even the bravest students, leaving them stammering, unsure of what they’d done wrong. It was subtle, and he was never outright rude—just dismissive enough to make it sting.

And yet, you couldn’t shake the crush. You hated it. You hated him. But the more he teased, the more you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting him.

And you wouldn’t dare to say you liked Sunghoon—not in the way one might admit to having a crush, at least. No, liking him wasn’t even an option. If anything, you tolerated him on your best days, pushed yourself to ignore the smug expressions and the subtle, condescending way he would respond to you in class. And on the worst days? You found yourself actively ignoring him. Because nothing seemed to satisfy Sunghoon more than bringing others down to elevate himself.

When someone dared to voice an answer he deemed beneath his own standards, you’d see it: the slight narrowing of his eyes, the subtle twist of his lips. He’d wait, just a beat, before stepping in to “correct” them, his tone laced with just enough contempt to make it clear who the “real” intellect in the room was. And somehow, he managed to do it all without outright insulting anyone. His comments were surgical, precise, his criticism delivered with a calm, cold detachment that only made it sting more. It made you question him, wonder why he seemed so determined to keep everyone beneath him.

But what frustrated you most was his selective charm. You’d watch him laugh and chat easily with other high-ranking students, his demeanor suddenly pleasant, even civil. He’d converse with them like they were equals, never the hint of a condescending smirk, no belittling glances. And in front of professors? Sunghoon transformed entirely. He was the picture of the ideal student, humble, deferential, offering polished responses that seemed designed to earn him a rare smile or a nod of approval. The teachers couldn’t seem to get enough of him.

You couldn’t wrap your head around it. His calculated, chameleon-like behavior left you wondering, time and time again, why he had ended up in Ravenclaw and not Slytherin. After all, he possessed every quality they prized: cunning, ambition, a nearly ruthless drive to succeed. It was like he wore a Ravenclaw uniform, but underneath, his nature seemed more like that of a Slytherin than anything else.

And perhaps, deep down, that was what unsettled you most about him—that he seemed to wear a mask depending on who he was with.

It frustrated you, intrigued you, and, despite yourself, drew you in.

So, you had learned to keep your distance from Sunghoon, to wear a mask of indifference around him. A poker face. Neutral. Unmoved. It became second nature, the way you could shut down your emotions whenever he entered the room, the way you refused to show any weakness in his presence. If you didn’t give him anything, you reasoned, he’d get bored of you eventually. He’d move on, as he did with everyone else. You figured, if you didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction, he’d leave you alone.

But now, reflecting on it, you realized that might have been the wrong choice. Because it didn’t matter how little you engaged with him. Sunghoon had a way of finding you. It was like he had a radar, some silent pull that always seemed to zero in on you during the day. And when he did, that was it. You had his full attention. Not a passing glance, not an idle comment. Sunghoon would fix his gaze on you, like a hawk locking onto its prey, his focus unyielding. It wasn’t an accidental glance; it was deliberate. Every moment, every word, every action seemed like it was a calculated move to engage with you, to get your attention—whether you wanted it or not.

If you were anyone else, if you were just a normal student, you might’ve gushed about it, maybe even bragged to your friends. After all, who wouldn’t want the attention of someone like Sunghoon? The handsome, accomplished, and charming prefect. But you weren’t anyone else. You weren’t lesser. You knew exactly why he sought you out—and it wasn’t because of some secret admiration.

He saw you as competition. You were an obstacle in his path to greatness. The two of you were always near the top of the class, always neck-and-neck, and he wasn’t about to let someone else get ahead of him. You knew that much. He probably had plans of his own—dreams of becoming an Auror, or securing some high-ranking position in the Ministry of Magic. He wasn’t going to let anyone stand in his way. And you were the one standing there, blocking his path. He had to prove he was better, that he was the best. It was almost… inevitable.

But deep down, you started to realize that there was something more to it than that. Sunghoon wasn’t just focused on outshining you academically. No. You had started to see the little things—the moments when his eyes lingered a little too long, the rare flicker of something deeper in his expression when he caught you in the hall or across a classroom.

And it made you question: was there more to how he saw you than just another obstacle? Were you something else entirely?

You first started to figure it out years ago, back when you were in fourth year and the two of you shared a few classes. It was the first time you’d really noticed Sunghoon, in Astronomy class, of all places. You had been excited for that class, you had always been fascinated by space, by the endless expanse of stars and the way the moon seemed to shift and change. As a child, you’d spent countless hours lying on the grass, gazing up at the sky, watching the constellations dance. You hadn’t thought twice about taking the class, certain you’d excel.

But you weren’t the only one eager to impress the professor. No, there was another student who seemed just as invested, answering questions with ease, his knowledge sharp and quick. You’d expected some competition, sure—but it was the way he answered, the confidence with which he spoke, that made you take notice.

It was Sunghoon.

You could see it in his eyes, the surprise that mirrored your own. The realization that you weren’t just any ordinary student—no, you were just as capable, just as quick-witted as he was. And that’s when it clicked: you weren’t just another student to him. You were a challenge.

After class, you’d been making your way out of the room, mind already spinning with the next lesson. But then you’d turned a corner and found yourself face-to-face with him, Sunghoon standing in the hallway like he was waiting for you. You hadn’t expected it, not at all.

“Impressive,” he’d said, raising an eyebrow. “You always this good with the material?”

You’d been taken aback, not quite sure how to respond, but something in his tone made you pause. At that point you weren’t used to students, especially not someone like him, complimenting your intellect outright. And yet, there was something sharp about his words, something that made you feel like this wasn’t just casual admiration.

“Of course,” you replied, instinctively meeting his challenge. “It’s not that difficult once you understand the basics.”

Sunghoon gave a smirk that only seemed to intensify the challenge. “So,” he began, crossing his arms. “If you’re as clever as you say, what’s the difference between the Confundus Charm and the Misdirection Hex?”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed but entertained. “Easy. The Confundus Charm affects the mind, creating confusion and distorting a person’s perception, whereas the Misdirection Hex only creates a temporary distraction without altering any mental clarity.”

Sunghoon nodded, clearly expecting that you’d know the answer but not missing a beat. “Fair enough. How about this one—” he leaned in slightly, his eyes glinting, “if you were to brew Amortentia, what’s the critical ingredient that activates the potion’s scent signature?”

You didn’t even flinch. “Moonstone. It’s the key to personalizing the scent and creating that pull, that... sense of longing,” you replied, a trace of smugness in your voice. “Now my turn.”

You watched him closely, his expression unchanging, as you asked, “What’s the main difference between Episkey and Vulnera Sanentur?”

Sunghoon’s gaze narrowed. “Episkey is a basic healing charm that works for minor injuries—usually cuts or bruises. Vulnera Sanentur, on the other hand, is far more advanced, and it actually seals major wounds, specifically stopping blood flow and beginning tissue repair.”

You smiled, only a little disappointed that he got it right. “Well done, Park,” you replied, crossing your arms.

But he wasn’t done yet. With a slight tilt of his head, he said, “If you’re so good, tell me, what’s the incantation for a Hot-Air Charm, and when would it be used?”

“Calidus Aero,” you replied easily, rolling your eyes. “And it’s used to produce a continuous flow of warm air. Good for drying things—or keeping people warm.”

There was a slight twitch of his lips, as if he were amused that you’d added the last bit. “Impressive. But let’s see how you handle this one,” he continued, looking pleased. “What’s the effect of adding powdered Runespoor eggs to a Memory Potion?”

You paused for only a moment, narrowing your eyes at him. “It sharpens the recall and clarity of recent memories, but it also makes them harder to alter or distort after the fact,” you replied, watching him carefully. “A good trick for Aurors needing airtight evidence in trials.”

There was a flicker of surprise in his expression, though he tried to hide it. “Not bad,” he admitted, a trace of a smile showing. “Looks like you know your potions.” He shifted, almost as if he’d found the whole exchange too easy. Then he gave you a look—calculated and challenging. “One more. What’s the wand movement for the Incarcerous spell, and what’s the incantation variation that makes the conjured ropes fireproof?”

You tried not to show that this one caught you off guard. “The wand movement for Incarcerous is a firm downward flick, followed by a counterclockwise twirl,” you said carefully, a smirk forming as you gained confidence. “And the fireproof variation is Ignus Incarcerous.”

Sunghoon let out a low chuckle, a little begrudging, but impressed all the same.

You’d hoped that after that, he’d leave it at that, yet, as you turned to leave, you felt his gaze on your back. And before you could walk away, he stopped you. You had expected something snide, maybe a remark about how you’d bested him, or how you were too proud. Instead, he spoke, his voice smooth, almost teasing.

“You’re… smarter than I expected.” There was a pause, and then he’d added, “In fact, you’re pretty impressive.”

You had frozen, not sure what to make of it. But then came the twist: the way he said it, the slight upturn of his lips, the almost flirtatious edge to his words. It caught you off guard.

You had been prepared for rivalry, for sharp competition, but not for that. Not for him to suddenly flirt with you. The change in his tone, the way his words softened, made you feel uneasy, but also... intrigued.

You hadn’t known how to respond, but all you could do was walk away, your mind racing. Sunghoon—Park Sunghoon—had just complimented you with the kind of look that made your heart beat a little faster, even though you told yourself you hated him.

You had barely made it a few steps when you heard him call out, his voice smooth and teasing, like a final jab in a match you hadn’t realized was over.

“Not bad at all,” Sunghoon said, the faintest hint of a smirk curling at his lips, his tone dipping slightly, as if it were more of a challenge than a compliment. “Nice to know there’s someone around here who can keep up.”

For a moment, your pulse quickened. You wanted to respond, to throw a witty retort back at him. But you couldn’t find the words—because you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much that one line had affected you.

Instead, you just stopped. You didn’t turn around, not fully, but you allowed yourself one quick glance over your shoulder.

Sunghoon was standing there, looking perfectly composed, his hands tucked casually behind him, his eyes following you with that unreadable look. The smirk remained, but there was something different about it now—less arrogant, more knowing. Almost like he was waiting for you to react, as if this small exchange was part of some game he wasn’t finished playing yet.

Without a word, you turned back around and continued walking, your steps brisk, your mind swirling.

--

You didn’t usually talk to Sunghoon outside of class—there was never much reason to. Your friend groups didn’t overlap, and both of you had your own routines, different paths to follow. But somehow, that didn’t stop him. No, every chance he got, Sunghoon would find a way to cross paths with you. He’d come up to you before classes, lean against a wall, and throw in some teasing remark about the next lesson or slyly compliment you on your latest academic achievement. It was almost like clockwork.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the star student,” he said, his tone playful but sharp. “Bet you’ve already memorized the entire textbook for today’s lesson, haven’t you?”

You rolled your eyes, not even breaking your stride. “You’re the one who’s obsessed with keeping up with every lesson, Sunghoon. I’m just trying to avoid getting bored.”

He chuckled, pushing off from the door and walking alongside you. “Right, because you’re totally not the type to get caught up in the thrill of perfect grades.” His eyes twinkled with a mixture of admiration and challenge. “I guess I’ll just have to make sure you don’t make it too easy for yourself.”

You smirked back, not missing a beat. “You’re right, I don’t like making things easy,” you said dryly. “But I’m sure you’re just trying to keep me on my toes, aren’t you, Sunghoon?”

He shrugged with a grin. “I’m just keeping things interesting. Besides, I have a reputation to uphold.”

Another time, just before Transfiguration, you found him leaning against a pillar, twirling his wand with a practiced ease, his gaze catching yours as you approached.

“So, tell me, have you figured out the secret to getting Transfiguration perfect every time, or do you just have some magic trick up your sleeve?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

You answered, not at all phased. “I think you’d be more impressed if you actually paid attention during class instead of just showing off your wand skills, Sunghoon.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Oh, I pay attention. But I’m just more interested in seeing if you can stay on top of everything. Don’t want to make it too easy for you, right?”

“You wouldn’t know what to do without a challenge, would you?” you shot back, giving him a sideways glance.

“You’re right,” he said, his grin widening. “And it’s not every day I get to challenge someone like you.”

And alas every day, just before classes, there he was, making some comment that practically demanded a response. You’d either fire back a witty remark of your own or just give him a deadpan look, as if you couldn’t be bothered. And yet, he’d show up again the next day, and the cycle would repeat. It was a routine you both seemed to have unconsciously built into your days. Neither of you ever missed it, both being somewhat meticulous about perfect attendance.

At some point, you realized it was strange. You noticed that he never spoke to anyone else in quite the same way. No other girl at Hogwarts seemed to have the so-called privilege of Sunghoon’s attention, and it confused you beyond belief. It didn’t make sense—he was smart, popular, handsome. And yet, he’d somehow decided that teasing you was worth his time.

It wasn’t until one late afternoon in the library that the thought came to a head. You were tutoring one of your Hufflepuff friends, helping her brush up on Transfiguration, when she looked at you with a knowing smile and just dropped it on you.

“I think Sunghoon likes you,” she said casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You laughed it off immediately, shaking your head. “That’s not possible. Sunghoon only likes people if they can help him get more house points,” you replied. “Why would he like me?”

Your friend just shrugged, that same smile still on her face. “You’re the only person he talks to like that,” she pointed out. “It’s like he’s constantly finding an excuse to be around you.”

You tried to ignore it, brush it off as one of her theories. But later, when you were alone, you couldn’t shake her words from your mind. You thought back to every interaction you’d seen between Sunghoon and other students, particularly girls. The more you thought about it, the more you realized it was true: you’d never once seen him act the same way around another girl. In fact, you couldn’t remember him ever dating anyone. Despite the whispers in the corridors and the way some girls openly admired him, he never seemed interested. No, you’d seen him reject more of them than you could count.

But with you... things were different.

You didn’t know what to make of it. Sunghoon had always been that one puzzle you couldn’t solve. He was unpredictable, throwing in little remarks as if he’d calculated your every reaction.

If he did like you, it would mean something you hadn’t prepared for. It would mean you’d been wrong about him—or, at least, about why he kept coming back to you.

Maybe that was why you found yourself in the library a little later than usual, searching for one specific book. The library was quieter than it had been all day, with only a handful of students still scattered between the rows of shelves, their heads buried in their books. Madam Pince was busy sorting through a stack of newly returned books at the far end of the room, so you figured you’d have some peace and quiet to yourself.

You’d been meaning to find this particular book for a while. The only problem was that you hadn’t seen it in the library for months. The last time you’d seen it, it had caught your eye when one of your Gryffindor friends had been flipping through its pages in the common room. You hadn’t been able to get a good look at it, but now, as you found it tucked away in the far corner, you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips.

You pulled the book off the shelf carefully, balancing it in your hands as you climbed down the ladder. The title read “Figuring and Tackling Your Feelings.” It was something about sorting through emotions, a guide that, frankly, seemed more like it belonged in the realm of self-help than anything academic. You weren’t sure why it had piqued your interest so much, but you were eager to take a closer look, especially now with everything on your mind.

Before you could fully inspect the cover, a voice came from behind you, low and familiar.

“Well, well. What do we have here?” Sunghoon’s voice cut through the silence of the library like a knife.

You jumped, startled, spinning around instinctively to hide the book behind your back. Your heart skipped a beat as you tried to regain your composure. There he stood, leaning casually against a nearby shelf, eyes already trained on you with that signature smirk of his.

“What are you doing here, Sunghoon?” you asked, your tone betraying the sudden flurry of nerves. You couldn’t help it. The last thing you needed right now was for him to get a glimpse of what you were holding.

“Me? Oh, nothing,” he said with a shrug, his eyes flicking to the book behind your back. “But you, on the other hand… reading ahead, are we?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “It’s none of your business,” you said quickly, trying to keep your voice steady.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Is that so?” His steps were slow and deliberate as he moved closer to you, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “You know, it’s not like you to hide books behind your back. What’s got you so secretive?”

Before you could stop him, his hand darted toward the book, attempting to grab it from behind your back. Reflexively, you twisted away, turning just enough so that he couldn’t get his hands on it. You managed to get a better grip on the book, but Sunghoon wasn’t backing off. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying the little game.

“Oh no, you don’t,” you muttered, trying to hold the book out of his reach. “Stop trying to grab it.”

Sunghoon just grinned, his gaze never leaving the book. “Come on, just let me see it. You know, I always find it fascinating when people start acting so mysterious about things.”

You twirled around again, moving just a little faster than him this time, keeping the book hidden behind you. The book’s cover was almost too easy to read from his angle, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d noticed the title.

“Why are you so curious about what I’m reading?” you shot back, hoping the question would throw him off balance.

His grin widened. “Maybe I just like seeing how you react. You’ve always been so… poised. I wonder if there’s more to you than the perfect student.” His voice dropped a little, a note of challenge creeping in. “Come on, just give it to me. You’re not that afraid of a little friendly competition, are you?”

You felt your cheeks flush slightly, the teasing getting to you. “It’s not about competition,” you muttered, taking another step back to keep the book away from his prying fingers. “Just… drop it, alright?”

His eyes flickered to the book once more, then back to you. “Fine, fine,” he said, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “But you’re really not going to let me see what you’re reading? You’re too mysterious for your own good.”

You exhaled, trying to calm your racing heart as you finally straightened up, no longer trying to keep it hidden. “It’s just a book. Nothing important.”

He tilted his head, eyeing you with that all-too-knowing look. “Uh-huh,” he said, clearly unconvinced.

And with that, he turned and strolled away, his footsteps echoing softly through the nearly empty library.

You let out a long breath, the book still in your hands, but your mind now racing in a way it hadn’t been before. Why had you reacted like that? What was it about Sunghoon’s teasing that got under your skin so easily?

You couldn’t shake the feeling that Sunghoon had seen right through you—like he always did. As the library door closed behind you, you felt a strange sense of relief mixed with lingering unease. You hadn’t expected that interaction to leave you so rattled. It was just Sunghoon, right? Yet, there was something about his persistence, the way he kept pushing you, that had thrown you off balance.

The book was still tucked under your arm as you made your way out of the library and toward your common room. You tried to focus on the cool, quiet hallways of Hogwarts, the flickering torches lighting your path. The winding corridors, usually so familiar, now seemed almost too vast, too empty.

The sound of your footsteps echoed as you passed through the hallway, heading toward the familiar portrait that would let you into your common room. You had to hurry; curfew was close, and Madam Pince had already given you a warning for lingering too long in the library.

As you reached the entrance to your common room, you glanced over your shoulder, just in time to catch a shadow move in the corner of your vision. But when you turned fully, the hallway was empty, just the faint echo of your own footsteps following you.

You shrugged it off. You must have imagined it.

With a quick word, the portrait swung open, and you stepped inside, relieved to be back in the warmth of your common room.

Outside, beyond the walls of the common room, Sunghoon stood hidden in the shadows, leaning against a pillar just out of sight, watching you go. His eyes lingered a moment longer than necessary before he turned and slowly disappeared into the shadows. He walked through the dimly lit hallways, his footsteps echoing softly in the quiet night. He hadn’t intended to follow you; it wasn’t some grand plan.

He’d tried to convince himself it was just curiosity—nothing more. After all, you were the only one who seemed to keep up with him in class. You challenged him, and that’s what he’d always thrived on.

And it was like he couldn’t not think about you. And that frustrated him.

He never expected you to be this… enigmatic. No one else had ever caught his attention like this—not like you did. It was a puzzle, one that didn’t make sense, and yet the more he tried to figure you out, the more complicated and captivating you became.

You had this effortless confidence, a sharp wit that matched his, but you weren’t like the other students he’d come across. You weren’t trying to impress anyone, not even him. There was something in your eyes when you’d deflect his teasing, a glimmer of something he couldn’t place. You didn’t give him the satisfaction of reacting the way he expected, and that drove him mad.

Sunghoon pushed a hand through his hair, his thoughts tangled as he navigated the winding corridors of Hogwarts. He shouldn’t be thinking about you so much. There were other things to focus on—other students, other challenges, other ways to advance. Yet, every time he tried to shake it off, his mind would return to you.

How had you managed to enrapture him so effortlessly? He wasn’t the type of person to become so… fixated. Yet here he was, walking through the darkened halls, and all he could think about was you. You never played by the same rules as everyone else, and that intrigued him more than he cared to admit.

No. He couldn’t let himself get tangled up in this. You were a challenge, just like he’d always wanted. You were nothing more than that, right?

But even as he told himself this, Sunghoon couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else—something more—that was pulling him toward you.

--

You sat at your desk in Potions class, the scratch of your quill against parchment the only sound filling the otherwise quiet classroom. Snape’s voice droned on, but your mind kept drifting. You had hoped for a peaceful class today—one where you could focus on the lesson without the usual distractions. But of course, it didn’t take long for that hope to be dashed.

The seat next to you, which had been occupied by a nervous Hufflepuff just moments ago, was now filled by none other than Park Sunghoon.

You didn’t look up immediately when he sat down. You had caught the tail end of his glare directed at the Hufflepuff, whose wide eyes had flicked from Sunghoon’s cold stare to you in a silent plea. In an instant, the Hufflepuff had scurried off, leaving the seat beside you vacant for Sunghoon to claim.

A small sigh escaped your lips, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you focused on your notes, carefully copying the ingredients Snape was listing for the potion you were about to brew. You wouldn’t let him distract you, not this time. The class was important, and the competition was heating up, especially with exams just around the corner.

You could feel the subtle shift in the air with Sunghoon settled beside you. But today, he didn’t say anything. Not a word. He simply unpacked his books, setting them down with a quiet precision, and began his own notes. It was almost too quiet, too… calm. It was rare that he didn’t start a conversation, especially considering the usual banter you both shared.

The fact that he was acting so reserved, while sitting so close to you, made you all the more aware of the faint tension between you. It was like he was waiting for you to say something first. But you wouldn’t. Not this time.

You kept your focus on your parchment, the quill moving smoothly as you wrote. It was an exercise in patience, in ignoring the small things: the way his sleeve brushed yours as he leaned over to grab an ingredient, the soft rustling of his books as he turned pages. You didn’t let your mind wander. You wouldn’t.

Yet, no matter how much you tried to ignore him, you felt the pull of his presence, as if he were a magnet. You stole a glance at him out of the corner of your eye. He was scribbling down notes too, but there was something different about the way he held his quill, the way his eyes flicked to the board and then to the ingredients list. He was concentrating, but you knew it wasn’t just the potion he was thinking about.

The realization hit you a little too late: He was watching you.

Your quill faltered for just a second before you steadied it again, keeping your eyes on the board. You couldn’t ignore the small, almost imperceptible glance he threw at you from time to time. It was the kind of look that made you question whether he was as unfazed as he appeared—or if, like you, he was just trying to hold his composure.

The class ended bit too soon, but not before you felt that pull again. Before you could gather your things, Sunghoon stood up, his chair scraping the floor with a soft sound. He didn’t look at you as he walked away, but you couldn’t help but feel the weight of his gaze linger on your back as you packed up your belongings.

--

The class was buzzing with quiet energy as Professor Snape swept into the room, his black robes billowing behind him as he made his way to the front. You could feel the usual hum of anticipation ripple through the classroom as he began with his first question, his gaze sharp and probing.

Without fail, Sunghoon was seated right beside you. He had strolled in at the last possible second and taken the empty seat before you could even think about moving. It was a position that had become an unspoken habit between the two of you—a silent agreement that this was where you would always sit, even if neither of you admitted it out loud.

“Who can tell me the primary function of wolfsbane in this potion?” Snape’s gaze swept across the class, but it settled almost immediately on you.

You raised your hand automatically, but just as you opened your mouth to answer, Sunghoon’s voice cut through the air. “The primary function of wolfsbane is to suppress the transformation of a werewolf. But specifically, in this potion, it’s used to temper the effects, making the potion safe for consumption by those with lycanthropic tendencies.”

Your jaw clenched, and you quickly chimed in, “That’s true, but wolfsbane’s reaction with belladonna is crucial to ensure the potion is actually effective. Otherwise, you risk a rapid breakdown of the ingredients, and the potion loses its potency within hours.”

A faint smirk played on Sunghoon’s lips as he turned slightly to face you, his eyes glinting with a mixture of challenge and amusement. “Of course,” he said, his voice low enough for only you to hear, “but that’s only if the brewer doesn’t know how to stabilize the reaction properly.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you know better than the author of ‘Potions for Practical Application’?” You raised an eyebrow, the hint of a challenge in your voice.

Snape’s voice sliced through your exchange. “If the two of you are quite finished,” he said dryly, “perhaps you’d like to enlighten the rest of the class.”

You both looked up, not missing the faint irritation in his expression. And yet, as he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, he seemed almost amused. If Snape enjoyed one thing in his classes, it was competent students—but if he enjoyed two things, it was watching competent students try to one-up each other.

With a quick glance at Sunghoon, you cleared your throat and addressed the rest of the class, your voice steady. “Wolfsbane, also known as aconite, stabilizes the transformation process. But the reason belladonna is needed in the mixture is because it counters the initial toxicity of the aconite.”

Sunghoon jumped in seamlessly, his tone smooth. “Exactly. Aconite alone could be harmful, but combined with the right ingredients, it actually makes the potion effective. Belladonna slows down the rate of the potion’s effect, balancing the intensity.”

You could see Snape’s eyes narrow just a fraction, clearly considering whether he’d allow this back-and-forth to continue. He hadn’t interrupted yet, though, and so you didn’t hold back.

“That only works, though,” you continued, “if the potion is brewed at precisely the right temperature. A variance of even one degree could cause the aconite to overpower the belladonna, which is why attention to detail is critical here.”

Sunghoon leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “True. But I’d argue that anyone who’s capable of brewing at an advanced level should be able to handle such minor details.” He cast a sideways glance at you. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

You narrowed your eyes, resisting the urge to roll them. He was enjoying this far too much. “Perhaps. Though, as they say, perfectionists always notice the minor details others miss.”

“Implying I’m not a perfectionist?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. His tone was light, but you could sense the competitive edge in it.

You shrugged, giving him a look of feigned innocence. “Just that you might not be as exacting as some of us.”

Before he could retort, Snape stepped in, his voice a mixture of impatience and reluctant amusement. “Miss Y/L/N. Mr. Park. While I am deeply fascinated by your thorough analysis, the class may benefit from a more structured approach.” He glanced around at the other students, who were watching you and Sunghoon with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

Your cheeks flushed as you turned back to your notes, feeling a rush of heat from Sunghoon’s lingering gaze. But Snape wasn’t done.

“In fact, why don’t you both demonstrate your understanding?” Snape gestured to the cauldron at the front of the room. “Brew the potion together. Let’s see if your theoretical knowledge holds up under practical application.”

You felt the tension shift as Sunghoon pushed himself up from his chair, casting a smirk in your direction. “Let’s see if you can keep up, then,” he murmured as he moved to the front.

Swallowing your nerves, you followed him, setting out the ingredients with practiced ease. As you worked, the rivalry simmered just beneath the surface. Sunghoon was methodical, careful with each step, yet he didn’t miss an opportunity to toss a teasing comment your way.

“Careful,” he said at one point, his voice low. “That’s a lot of aconite you’re adding there. Are you sure you’re not trying to mess up the potion to make a point?”

You shot him a look. “Maybe I just don’t trust you to brew this properly without a little oversight.”

His eyes glinted. “Funny, because I was about to say the same thing to you.”

The two of you continued in this vein, quietly exchanging barbs as you measured, stirred, and added ingredients with exacting precision.

When the potion was nearly complete, you both paused, watching as the liquid in the cauldron shifted from murky green to a smooth, midnight blue—the exact color it was supposed to be.

Sunghoon tilted his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not bad,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You met his gaze, a smirk of your own forming. “Could say the same to you.”

The rest of the class continued in much the same way, the tension between you and Sunghoon thick as you both remained locked in your rivalry. As Professor Snape continued his lesson, you and Sunghoon each made sure to answer his questions before the other could, each answer delivered with just enough confidence to imply you had known it all along.

Every now and then, you’d catch Sunghoon looking your way, a small, knowing smile on his face, as if he could read every thought running through your mind.

Just as you were jotting down notes on the final instructions for the potion, a Ravenclaw beside you leaned over. “Hey, Y/N,” she whispered, “can I borrow your notes from last week? I’m a bit behind.”

Before you could even respond, you noticed a shift beside you. From the corner of your eye, you saw Sunghoon’s expression harden. His jaw clenched as he shot the Ravenclaw a sharp look, his gaze practically daring her to linger a moment longer.

She hesitated, glancing between you and Sunghoon before quickly saying, “You know what, never mind. I’ll, uh, figure it out.” With that, she scurried off, leaving you a bit bewildered.

You turned back to your notes, only to feel Sunghoon relax beside you, leaning back in his chair with a casual air as if nothing had happened. His expression softened, the subtle smirk you’d come to expect making its return. You rolled your eyes, not bothering to address it as you continued your notes. But before long, another student tried to approach.

This time, it was a Gryffindor who slipped you a folded note with a question on today’s potion. But before you could even open it, you noticed that same glint in Sunghoon’s eyes, like he was quietly measuring the other student’s worth. His glare was steely, his gaze intense enough that, once again, your classmate seemed to change their mind about talking to you at all. The Gryffindor muttered a quiet apology and quickly returned to their seat.

You couldn’t help but cast a sidelong glance at Sunghoon, raising an eyebrow at his now placid expression. He noticed and merely gave a slight shrug, as if to say he hadn’t done a thing. It was infuriatingly typical of him, acting as if he hadn’t just sent two students retreating.

“What’s your problem?” you whispered, leaning in slightly.

Sunghoon’s smirk deepened. “No problem. Just keeping distractions to a minimum.”

You scoffed, your irritation clear, but deep down, a part of you wondered why he even cared.

But then Snape’s voice cut through the room, calling for silence, and you both snapped back to attention, the rivalry and tension settling between you once more.

As you walked out of the dungeon, feeling the cool stone hallway stretch out in front of you, you were met by two Gryffindor students waiting just outside. They exchanged a glance, visibly relieved as you approached, and one of them quickly stepped forward.

“Hey, Y/N,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “We were wondering if you could maybe tutor us in Potions? We’re both, uh… struggling with it, to say the least.”

His friend nodded, looking equally sheepish. “Yeah, we could really use the help.”

Before you could answer, though, you felt a presence at your side. Sunghoon had followed you out, his usual calm but intense demeanor practically radiating as he watched the two Gryffindors. His gaze hardened, and he didn’t waste a second before stepping between you and them.

“You two really have nothing better to do than pester her?” he asked, his tone dismissive, his glare enough to make them visibly uncomfortable.

The Gryffindors exchanged glances, shuffling back slightly, but they didn’t say anything. They seemed intimidated, but they didn’t seem like they were about to give up so easily. You sighed, shooting Sunghoon an exasperated look.

“Sunghoon, relax,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. You turned back to the two Gryffindors, who looked both embarrassed and desperate, and crossed your arms.

“Fine,” you told them, sighing. “Meet me in the library tomorrow. I’ll give you some pointers then.”

The two of them beamed, nodding quickly, and mumbled their thanks before heading off, leaving you alone with Sunghoon, who was still watching them as if they’d offended him personally.

As they turned the corner, Sunghoon glanced at you, a frown tugging at his lips. “You didn’t have to agree, you know,” he said, his tone more casual now, though there was still a trace of irritation. “They’re just looking for an easy answer.”

You gave him a look, shaking your head slightly. “Not everything is about competition, Sunghoon. Maybe they actually need help.”

He scoffed, a smirk curling at his lips. “Whatever you say. Are you coming, or are you too busy playing tutor?”

There was a brief moment of hesitation on your part. You hadn’t planned on sticking around with him after class, especially after his little standoff with your would-be students. But as his gaze settled on you, something about his expression—part expectant, part unreadable—made it hard to refuse.

With an exasperated roll of your eyes, you gave in. “Fine, lead the way.”

He smirked, clearly satisfied, and turned to walk down the hall. You fell into step beside him, the two of you moving together in silence.

Sunghoon led you through the winding corridors of Hogwarts, weaving up narrow staircases and into passages you were sure most students didn’t even know about. You were tempted to ask him what he was up to, but a strange, quiet curiosity kept you following him, even when you caught yourself glancing back, half-considering turning around. But you couldn’t deny your curiosity—and a reluctant trust in him, strange as it felt.

Finally, you reached a narrow staircase that led up to one of the less-frequented towers. “Here we are,” he said.

You stared at a latch, then at him. “What is this place?”

He didn’t answer immediately, instead climbing ahead of you, reaching up to open the concealed latch in the ceiling. With a glance down at you, he climbed up, disappearing through the opening.

You glanced around the empty hallway, biting your lip.

When he poked his head back down and raised an eyebrow. “Are you coming?” you sighed and climbed up after him, finding yourself in a tiny, dusty attic space. The room was cramped, with wooden beams crossing over the low ceiling and tiny, dusty windows letting in a dim glow. There wasn’t a sound in the air; no one ever came up here.

“What’s this about, Sunghoon?” you asked, crossing your arms, unable to keep a note of suspicion out of your voice. But he only smirked, taking your wrist and gently pulling you over to the corner of the room where a small wooden chest lay against the wall.

He lifted the lid, revealing a small creature nestled inside. You took a step closer, gasping softly as you recognized the little, dark-furred niffler, its leg twisted at an awkward angle, clearly hurt. You shot Sunghoon a surprised look, and he rubbed the back of his neck, almost sheepish.

“I, uh… I remembered you seemed to know a lot about magical creatures,” he said, his voice quieter, less sure than usual. “Saw it struggling outside the castle, and I thought… well, I figured you might know what to do with it.”

For a moment, you simply stared, taken aback by his unexpected gentleness. You knelt down beside the chest, assessing the niffler’s condition. “It looks like it twisted its leg pretty badly,” you murmured, brushing your fingers carefully over the creature’s fur as it whimpered, its small, dark eyes wide with trust and pain.

The niffler shivered, glancing up at you before letting out a soft chitter, its tiny paw reaching up to clutch your finger as you whispered calming words.

“It’s okay, little one,” you murmured, gently lifting the niffler into your arms. Sunghoon stepped back a little, allowing you space to work, and you couldn’t help but notice how quietly he was watching you, not saying a word.

You checked its leg, gently feeling around the injury. It wasn’t too severe, but it would need some attention. “The little guy will be okay. You just have to be careful with creatures like these—they can get skittish when they’re hurt.”

Sunghoon nodded, his gaze fixed on the niffler as you worked. You pulled out your wand, muttering the appropriate healing charms as you carefully mended its leg. The niffler let out a small chirp, its fur fluffing out in relief as it finally settled in your arms.

“You know,” Sunghoon said, breaking the silence, “I didn’t expect you to be so good with magical creatures.” You glanced up, meeting his gaze, which was unexpectedly warm, his usual guarded expression softened.

“Maybe there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you replied, a teasing lilt to your voice.

Sunghoon smiled faintly, watching as you wrapped the niffler’s leg with careful precision, almost as if seeing you in a new light. “Guess I’ll just have to keep finding excuses to learn, then,” he said.

With a final wave of your wand, the niffler’s leg was mended. Almost immediately, the little creature perked up, chirping happily as if testing out its newfound mobility. A small smile tugged at your lips as the niffler wobbled in your lap, nudging your hand before, quick as a flash, its tiny paw darted toward the shiny badge pinned on your robes.

“Hey!” you laughed, reaching for the niffler as it tugged at your prefect badge, determined to add it to whatever imaginary hoard it was building in its mind.

Sunghoon chuckled from where he stood, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his gaze following the little creature’s antics. “Looks like it has a good eye for treasure,” he said, his tone playful. The niffler, clearly encouraged by his approval, squeaked and tugged harder, and you could only laugh as you tried to wrestle it gently away from your badge.

“Alright, alright, little troublemaker,” you said, scratching behind its ear, “I guess you’re all healed up.” The niffler chirped, clearly satisfied with itself, and settled back in your lap, peering up at you with big, curious eyes.

Sunghoon tilted his head, that faint smile still lingering. “You know, you have to name him now,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the niffler. “Name him? Isn’t he a bit too… mischievous to settle for a name?” But as you looked into its wide, shining eyes, you felt a tug of fondness you couldn’t quite ignore.

Sunghoon shrugged, his tone a bit lighter than usual. “Well, you can’t just heal him and leave him unnamed. Plus, he’ll probably come back to find you if you give him a name.”

You bit back a smile, glancing at the niffler again. “Alright, fine.” After a moment’s thought, you looked back up at Sunghoon, the beginnings of an idea forming. “What about Spark? Since he’s so keen on shiny things.”

Sunghoon’s eyes crinkled slightly as he considered it. “Spark,” he echoed thoughtfully, and then nodded. “I like it. Seems fitting, for a niffler that’s already made it his mission to steal from a Hogwarts prefect.”

The niffler—now dubbed Spark—chirped in approval, as if satisfied with his new name. He scrambled back onto your lap, one paw still reaching toward your badge, his nose twitching.

As you watched Spark dart playfully around the room, you looked at Sunghoon and nodded toward the door. “We should probably take him to Hagrid. He’ll know how to take care of a niffler better than we can.”

Sunghoon nodded, and with a final scratch behind Spark’s ear, you tucked the little creature into the crook of your arm. As you and Sunghoon quietly made your way down the tower’s staircase and through the darkened hallways, Spark scampered excitedly between the two of you, chirping and squeaking in delight. Every now and then, he’d jump from your shoulder to Sunghoon’s, nuzzling close and tugging at a stray lock of his hair.

When you finally stepped out onto the moonlit grounds, Spark scrambled up Sunghoon’s arm and settled atop his head, tugging at the strands as if trying to style his hair. Sunghoon rolled his eyes but didn’t make any real effort to dislodge him.

As you arrived at Hagrid’s hut, Sunghoon reached up to knock on the door, but Spark clung stubbornly to his head, chirping with the excitement of a mischievous child. Hagrid’s warm, booming voice called from inside, and a moment later, he opened the door, his eyes lighting up when he saw the small creature atop Sunghoon’s head.

“What in Merlin’s beard… is that a niffler on yer head, Sunghoon?” Hagrid’s laughter was deep and genuine as he looked between the two of you.

You couldn’t help but laugh as well, reaching up to grab Spark gently from Sunghoon’s head. As you tugged the niffler free, you couldn’t help but notice the state of Sunghoon’s hair—it was thoroughly mussed, thanks to Spark’s playful grasping. “We found him hurt,” you explained to Hagrid as you cradled Spark, who snuggled into your arms with a satisfied chirp. “We patched him up a bit, but we figured he’d be in better hands with you. Could you take care of him?”

Hagrid’s face softened as he looked at Spark, his expression a mixture of fondness and excitement. “Course, I’ll look after the little rascal. Nifflers can be tricky, but they got good hearts.” Beside him, Fang barked happily, his tail thumping against the ground as he trotted up to you.

Grinning, you crouched down, running your hands through Fang’s thick fur as he nuzzled your hand. “Hey, Fang! Missed you too, big guy,” you murmured, scratching him behind the ears. Fang let out a pleased rumble, leaning into your touch.

As Hagrid took Spark from your hands, the niffler let out a mournful little chirp, his dark eyes fixed on you and Sunghoon as if he already missed you. Hagrid chuckled, petting Spark’s head. “Looks like he’s taken quite the likin’ to you two! I reckon he’ll be a handful. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure he’s well cared for.” With a wave, Hagrid gently closed the door, and you and Sunghoon turned back toward the castle.

Walking side by side through the quiet grounds, Sunghoon was still trying to tame his hair, grumbling softly as he ran his hands through it. Smiling, you reached out, gently pushing his hands away. “Let me,” you said softly, reaching up to smooth down his tousled locks.

Sunghoon was silent, watching you as you worked, and when you finally stepped back, satisfied, he looked at you with a softened expression. “Thanks,” he murmured, his voice unusually quiet, his gaze lingering on you just a little longer than usual.

You lowered your hand, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze, the gentle night air cool against your cheeks. “You’re welcome,” you replied, glancing away as a faint warmth crept up your neck.

For a few steps, the two of you walked in comfortable silence, the soft crunch of gravel beneath your feet the only sound. The castle loomed ahead, its towers silhouetted against the dark, star-strewn sky.

“You know,” Sunghoon finally spoke, his voice low but warm, “you didn’t have to help with Spark back there. Could’ve just let me figure it out on my own.”

You scoffed lightly, nudging him with your elbow. “Oh, please. You’d have probably spent half the night just trying to get him off your head,” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Besides, I like helping out with creatures. It’s… peaceful.”

Sunghoon gave a soft chuckle, nodding. “Can’t argue with that. You’re a natural,” he added, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile. “I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“Like what?” You turned your head to look at him, slightly caught off guard by his tone.

“Soft. I mean, not that you’re… not usually. Just… different,” he mumbled, running a hand over his head again, his gaze darting to the side as if searching for words. “Maybe it’s nice to see you care about something.”

A quiet chuckle escaped your lips as you shoved your hands into your pockets, your steps slowing. “I care about things. Just not usually things that… require all that much attention.”

Sunghoon stopped, turning toward you, his gaze intense yet gentle. “Well, it seems you’ve got another talent to add to the list,” he said quietly. “Even if I don’t see this… soft side very often.”

You could feel your face warm under his stare, an unspoken understanding passing between you. “Well, maybe I’ll show it a bit more… if you promise to keep your teasing to a minimum,” you countered, smiling slightly.

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Only some teasing,” he replied, but there was a warmth behind his usual smirk, a hint of something more.

As you reached the entrance to the castle, you both paused, lingering in the cool shadows of the towering walls. Neither of you seemed ready to break the quiet moment. Eventually, you took a breath, giving him a final look. “Goodnight, Sunghoon.”

He nodded, his eyes still on you. “Goodnight,” he replied softly.

The next day, the routine rivalry between you and Sunghoon was as intense as ever, starting with the very first class. Snape had just handed back a round of potion assignments, and as you flipped through your parchment, you smirked at the sight of your high score. But your satisfaction was short-lived; Sunghoon leaned back in his seat beside you, carelessly waving his own assignment in the air, flashing a score just a fraction higher than yours.

You shot him a look that was equal parts irritation and challenge. “I guess perfection just comes naturally to some,” he murmured, his smirk widening as he glanced at your page. You couldn’t stop your glare from hardening as you rolled your eyes and muttered under your breath.

Throughout the day, this pattern continued in every class. Whenever you scored higher, he’d fall silent, his eyes narrowed in a glare as he examined his own work with a slight pout. If he managed to get the higher score, you’d feel your face flush in annoyance, lips pressed into a thin line as you begrudgingly accepted the tiny triumph. Each question the teachers posed became a mini-battle between the two of you. If you answered first, Sunghoon would scoff and find some way to counter your response with an added detail or correction; if he answered first, you’d find a way to elaborate on it with an extra flourish.

Eventually, in Charms, your constant back-and-forth about the finer points of nonverbal spells escalated to a full-blown debate. You could feel the class’s eyes on you both as you threw arguments back and forth, neither willing to back down until the professor finally cut in, moving to the next topic with an exasperated sigh.

When classes finally ended, you found yourself surrounded by a few Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students, all hoping you’d tutor them in some area or another. But before any of them could get too close, Sunghoon would somehow find his way into the middle, stepping forward with a cool glare that would make them hesitate. Without even noticing his interference, you were too busy rambling to him about magical creatures, hardly noticing as students reluctantly slipped away.

“…And the phoenix? Did you know they have regeneration abilities not just for themselves but that their tears can heal practically anything? It’s almost like a superpower,” you said animatedly, your eyes lighting up as you explained.

Sunghoon’s small, genuine smile went unnoticed by you, his eyes studying your expressions as you spoke. “You know,” he said after a moment, “you really get lost when you’re talking about them.”

You shrugged, unfazed. “Why wouldn’t I? There’s so much to learn, so much to explore. Don’t you ever feel like that about anything?”

His smile grew softer, almost thoughtful. “Yeah… I think I do,” he said, not taking his eyes off you. But you were too caught up in your own excitement to notice the way he looked at you, as if he had found something worth exploring right here.

You barely noticed the way Sunghoon’s eyes softened as you went on about the different habitats of magical creatures, caught up in sharing the things you loved. He seemed entirely focused on you, even as the hallway grew emptier, his usual sharp edge melting into a quieter attentiveness that he rarely showed.

As you two walked, he seemed to subtly steer you, ensuring other students didn’t approach with requests or questions. The few who tried to interrupt received one of Sunghoon’s cool, silent glares, and it was enough to make them think twice. But his attention never wavered from you, and you barely noticed anyone else around.

“…So I’m hoping to go on expeditions one day,” you said with a small smile, glancing up at him as you walked. “I want to see these creatures in the wild and understand their behaviors.”

Sunghoon looked at you, his gaze warm yet intent. “You really mean that,” he murmured.

“Of course I do,” you replied, almost laughing. “I thought everyone knew that by now.”

His faint smile returned. “Maybe not everyone. But… I do.”

You blinked at the sudden seriousness in his tone, and for a moment, you were struck by the way he was looking at you—as if there was something he’d been meaning to say, something he was wrestling with. But as quickly as the moment surfaced, it was gone; he looked away, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat. “Guess I’ll have to find something just as impressive to match that.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Good luck with that. You’ll have to work a lot harder to keep up.”

A smirk flashed across his face. “Challenge accepted,” he said quietly.

--

As you sat with the two Gryffindor students in the quiet corner of the library, the sunlight filtering through the high windows, you felt a sense of satisfaction in guiding them through the complexities of potions. They were both scrambling to keep up, flipping pages in their textbooks and frantically jotting down notes as you explained each component's properties and how they interacted.

After a moment, you paused to ask a question, gesturing to the list of ingredients for the Draught of Peace. “Which ingredient in this potion helps to reduce anxiety but can cause drowsiness in high doses?”

One of the boys squinted at his notes before raising his hand tentatively. “Um… powdered moonstone?”

You nodded, a small smile crossing your lips. “Exactly. Well done.”

He grinned, looking quite pleased with himself, then gave his friend a smug slap on the shoulder. “See? Told you I was getting the hang of this,” he boasted, earning an eye-roll from his friend.

“Don’t get too cocky,” you warned, a teasing edge to your voice. “One right answer doesn’t make you a Potions Master.”

He chuckled sheepishly, but it was clear he was still basking in your praise.

As the lesson went on, you glanced up for a moment, and your eyes caught sight of a familiar figure leaning against the edge of a nearby shelf: Sunghoon. He was watching the entire scene with his usual unreadable expression, arms crossed and a subtle smirk on his face, as if he found the whole situation amusing.

Rolling your eyes, you turned your focus back to the Gryffindors, deciding to ignore him. But despite your best efforts, you couldn’t shake the awareness of his gaze. The two Gryffindors seemed completely oblivious to Sunghoon’s presence, but every now and then, you caught him subtly stepping closer, listening in.

Finally, you finished your explanations, assigning them a few practice problems to work on in their own time. They thanked you, relief written on their faces as they gathered their things to leave.

As they left, Sunghoon sauntered over, raising an eyebrow at you. “You seem awfully generous with praise,” he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Oh, don’t start,” you replied, rolling your eyes again as you closed your textbook. “I’m just trying to help them pass Potions. They don’t have to be my rivals.”

“Lucky for them,” he said, chuckling softly. Then he leaned in slightly, his voice lowering, “But I’d like to think I’m the only one who gets to compete with you.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled out a worn notebook and a slightly tattered copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander from your bag, flipping to a page you had been absorbed in earlier. Your notes were meticulous and precise, with a small sketch of a selkie in the margin, its sleek form and dark eyes captured with surprising detail.

Sunghoon noticed immediately, his gaze drifting to the open book and your notes. He shifted his chair a little closer, leaning in to get a better look. "What’s all this?" he asked, clearly intrigued.

“Oh, just some of my own notes,” you replied casually, though you couldn’t deny the flicker of excitement at the chance to explain. “I’m copying parts of the book, adding some of my observations. See—” You pointed to a note on selkies. “These markings here help them blend in with the seaweed, which makes them nearly invisible in shallow waters. Clever, right?”

Sunghoon nodded, and you could see the interest in his expression as he continued to study the page. Emboldened, you moved on, “And this—” you pointed to another entry, flipping a few pages to a section on kelpies. “If you ever encounter a kelpie, you should look out for water plants on its back; they often disguise themselves as beautiful horses near the shore to lure people into the water.”

“Or here, in this section on Acromantulas,” you continued, your excitement getting the better of you. “If you ever come across an Acromantula lair, the air will feel damp and oddly warm, almost like a warning. They leave webs that catch the light differently than normal spider webs—they’re shinier, with a silver tint.”

Sunghoon’s smirk softened, replaced by something you couldn’t quite place. “You really know your stuff,” he said softly, the admiration clear in his voice.

You glanced away, suddenly a little self-conscious under his gaze. “I just… really like learning about magical creatures,” you admitted with a shrug. “I think they’re fascinating.”

Sunghoon let out a low chuckle. “I think you’re fascinating,” he murmured, almost too quietly for you to hear.

You paused, heart skipping a beat as you processed his words. But before you could respond, he cleared his throat, his expression unreadable once more as he reached for your book. “So… what else should I know about magical creatures, in case we run into one?”

You grinned and continued explaining each creature with passion and detail, and he listened, seemingly content just to sit there, absorbed in every word you said.

You lost track of time as you continued sharing each creature’s traits, fully immersed in the world of magical beasts and their quirks. You explained to Sunghoon how to spot a bowtruckle in the trees, the difference between a griffin’s call and a hippogriff’s, and why nifflers are drawn to sparkly objects. With every fact you shared, his eyes never left your face.

After a while, you realized just how close he’d inched toward you. There was hardly any space between you now, and you were all too aware of his gaze tracing the slope of your nose, the curve of your mouth as you spoke. It was almost unnerving, and for the first time, you found yourself stumbling over your words.

When you paused to catch your breath, Sunghoon broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone talk about magical creatures like that before.”

His words caught you off guard, and you felt warmth creeping into your cheeks. “There’s so much out there we don’t understand. I think that’s the best part—the mystery of it all.” You murmured, glancing down at your notebook.

Sunghoon leaned back in his chair, thoughtful. “Maybe that’s why I’ve always thought you’re different from everyone else.” He looked down, almost shyly, as if he hadn’t meant to let that slip.

You blinked, surprised. "Different?"

“Yeah,” he replied, finally meeting your gaze again. “You’re… genuine. Like, you actually care about the things that matter. You don’t just do things because it’s expected, or because someone told you to. You’re… well, it’s hard to explain.” He shrugged, visibly frustrated, and let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle.

You blinked, trying to make sense of what Sunghoon had just said, of the quiet vulnerability in his words. “I… didn’t realize you thought about things like that,” you replied, your voice softer than you’d meant it to be.

But Sunghoon’s momentary openness seemed to vanish as soon as the words left your mouth. His eyes widened slightly, and he immediately turned away, his expression twisting into a frown. "I don’t know why I even—”

Before he could finish, he stood up abruptly, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. You barely had time to react as he took a few steps back, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like “beautiful eyes” under his breath, though you couldn’t be sure. Then, without looking back, he turned on his heel and strode out of the library, leaving you staring after him, stunned.

You sat there, watching the tall silhouette of his figure disappear through the doorway, a thousand questions spinning through your mind.

Madam Pince’s voice snapped you out of your daze. She had quietly approached, tidying up the stray books the Gryffindor students had left behind. “It doesn’t take much to see he likes you,” she said, her tone somewhere between amused and exasperated.

Your head whipped around to face her, eyes wide. “Wait—what?”

She glanced at you over the rim of her spectacles, raising an eyebrow as she gathered a stack of books. “Oh, come on. That boy didn’t take his eyes off you for a second. He barely even noticed anyone else in the room.” She shook her head, a soft chuckle escaping her. “If he could, I swear he’d have hearts in his eyes. Quite the smitten one, that Sunghoon.”

You felt your face heat up. “I—no, that can’t be.”

Madam Pince gave a noncommittal hum, but her eyes sparkled with something like knowing. “I’ve seen plenty of students in here studying. There’s something different about him.”

ou couldn’t shake the image of Sunghoon’s gaze lingering on you, softer than you’d ever seen it, and the way he’d fumbled over his own words like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“Maybe it’s just the way he looks at you,” Madam Pince added as she placed the last book on the shelf. “You’d think he’s looking at his entire world.”

You felt your breath catch, her words lingering long after you left the library.

The next day, you found yourself standing in the hallway before Charms class, nervously glancing at Wooyoung. You’d practically dragged him here to talk about Sunghoon, though you weren’t entirely sure what you wanted to ask or how to approach him.

“Come on, Wooyoung, you have to help me figure this out,” you said, your voice a little more frantic than you intended. “Do you think… do you think he likes me?”

Wooyoung, leaning casually against the wall, smiled so wide that his grin nearly split his face. There was a gleam in his eyes—one that you knew all too well. The one he always wore when he had some mischievous plan brewing.

“Like you?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t he? You two are practically a walking cliché. The constant competition, the way you both try to one-up each other… It’s as obvious as your latest Transfiguration assignment.”

You frowned, unsure of where he was going with this. “I—what do you mean by that?”

Wooyoung pushed off the wall, standing up straighter. His smile grew wider, and you immediately recognized that look. The one that meant he’d just come up with something ridiculous, probably to your detriment. “Why don’t you make him show it? Get him to prove he likes you.”

You stared at him, blinking in disbelief. “What? How am I supposed to do that?”

He sighed dramatically, as though you’d just asked him a question that was too easy to answer. “It’s simple. Make him jealous using me,” Wooyoung replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Your eyes widened. “Wait, what? You want me to pretend to like you to make Sunghoon jealous?”

“Exactly!” Wooyoung grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “And don’t worry. I’ll even be the test bunny —free of charge. I’ll stick close to you, spend all the time I can with you, and make it look like I’m all about you. Trust me, Sunghoon will get the message real quick.”

You hesitated, worried. “I don’t know, Wooyoung. This seems like a bad idea.”

He groaned in exasperation, rolling his eyes. “How can someone so smart be so clueless? It’s not like you have to actually date me or anything. Besides, you’re not even doing anything bad, just hanging out with your best friend Wooyoung. You’ll see what happens. Just wait until Sunghoon realizes what’s going on. If he likes you, he’ll show it.”

You bit your lip, not entirely convinced. The idea made you uneasy, but Wooyoung was already grabbing your arm, pulling you towards the classroom. “Come on. You can overthink it later. Let’s go.”

Reluctantly, you allowed yourself to be pulled into class, the moment you found your seat, you looked around, half-expecting to see Sunghoon. When he walked into class, you saw him immediately—tall and confident, his usual smirk in place. But as soon as his eyes landed on you, sitting next to Wooyoung, his entire demeanor shifted. His eyes narrowed, and his brow furrowed.

You felt your stomach flip when Sunghoon stalked over, crossing his arms.

“You’re in my seat,” Sunghoon said, his voice cold as his eyes locked onto Wooyoung.

Wooyoung, not missing a beat, tilted his head back and looked at Sunghoon with a smug expression. “I don’t see your name here,” he teased, his voice playful, almost sing-song. He then dramatically pulled you closer to him, as though to stake his claim. “Besides, I’m sitting here now.”

You shot Wooyoung a look, but he was already enjoying this far too much. You glanced back at Sunghoon, who was glaring at Wooyoung with a look that could have burned a hole through him, his jaw clenched, his lips pressed into a thin line. But when Sunghoon looked at you, his eyes softened just a little—though the frown still remained. He sighed in frustration before walking off, clearly not wanting to make a scene.

His eyes then locked onto the desk directly in front of you, where a Ravenclaw student had been sitting just moments ago, quietly taking notes. Without so much as a glance toward you or Wooyoung, Sunghoon walked up to the desk with a purposeful stride.

The Ravenclaw, a young girl with glasses perched on the edge of her nose, looked up in mild surprise as Sunghoon approached her. She was about to ask if something was wrong when he stood before her, towering slightly as he looked down at her desk with an unwavering gaze.

“Move,” he said simply, his voice low and calm, but there was an unspoken authority in it. It wasn’t a question, and there was no room for negotiation in his tone.

The Ravenclaw blinked, unsure of what was happening. “Excuse me?” she asked, her voice a little shaky.

Sunghoon’s expression remained neutral. “I’m sitting here,” he repeated, and he placed his bag down on the desk, almost as though he were claiming it.

The girl hesitated, glancing at the seat next to yours where Wooyoung sat, clearly not understanding the situation. She looked at the empty seats around the room, trying to figure out what to do.

“You can find another seat,” Sunghoon added coolly, his gaze unflinching. “It’s not a big deal.”

The Ravenclaw swallowed hard, her face flushing with confusion and embarrassment. She had no idea what was happening. Was this some sort of joke? Was she supposed to just give up her seat because Sunghoon wanted it? She opened her mouth to protest again, but before she could speak, she caught the look in Sunghoon’s eyes—cold, almost daring her to defy him.

“Okay,” she muttered, gathering her things and standing up, clearly unnerved by the tension in the air. Reluctantly, she grabbed her bag, and with a small, defeated sigh, she walked toward a different desk, clearly trying to avoid further confrontation.

You watched the scene unfold with a mix of surprise and discomfort, and you could see Wooyoung beside you, clearly amused by the whole thing. Sunghoon didn’t even spare a glance at the girl as she moved to another desk. He simply adjusted his books, and slid into the chair with a casual ease.

Wooyoung chuckled under his breath as class started, nudging you with an exaggerated wink. “Worked like a charm,” he whispered, grinning.

As Professor Flitwick began the lecture, Wooyoung scribbled something on a scrap of parchment and nudged it toward you, his grin widening when you glanced down.

“I’d say Sunghoon looks about two seconds away from hexing me,” he’d scrawled, complete with a little doodle of a scowling Sunghoon.

You smirked, scribbling back, “More like two seconds from snapping his quill in half.”

Wooyoung had to stifle his laugh, glancing up to make sure Flitwick wasn’t watching. Meanwhile, Sunghoon sat in front of you, stiff and silent, answering Professor Flitwick’s questions with uncharacteristic quietness. Normally, this was the part of the lesson where you’d challenge him, but you were too busy passing notes and snickering quietly with Wooyoung.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon, seemed quieter than usual. It was obvious to you that he wasn’t paying much attention to the lesson now—his usually sharp focus shifted entirely to the students around him. You caught the way he glanced up when another student raised their hand, trying to challenge him. They asked a particularly tricky question about the correct incantation for a charm, but when Sunghoon answered smoothly, there was no cocky attitude, no smug smirk. He answered matter-of-factly, almost quietly, and then fell back into his seat, looking down at his parchment with furrowed brows.

Other students tried to challenge him, pushing for more details, but Sunghoon didn’t rise to the occasion like he usually did with you. He remained reserved, answering them simply and without the usual bite in his voice.

And you couldn’t help but wonder if this was all connected to the game you and Wooyoung had started—testing Sunghoon's reactions, seeing how far you could push him. You watched him for a few more moments, noting how his posture stiffened slightly whenever someone questioned him. It was like he was waiting for something—waiting for you to throw a comment or a challenge his way. But you stayed quiet, not offering him the usual banter or playful disagreement.

Wooyoung passed you another note, his handwriting messier this time from his suppressed laughter. “Guess he only cares if it’s you arguing with him.”

As soon as Professor Flitwick dismissed the class, you barely had a second to pack up your things before Wooyoung seized your arm, yanking you up from your seat and ushering you toward the door with hurried enthusiasm.

“Come on, come on!” he whispered, grinning as he practically dragged you through the aisle, weaving between students as they gathered their things.

You stumbled slightly, barely managing to throw your bag over your shoulder as Wooyoung tugged you along, his grip firm as he steered you toward the corridor. Behind you, you caught a quick glimpse of Sunghoon, his expression darkening as he watched Wooyoung pull you away.

“Wooyoung, slow down!” you protested, trying to keep from tripping as he continued his brisk pace down the hallway. You glanced back, half-expecting Sunghoon to be right behind you, but the corridor was empty, and you couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of disappointment that he hadn’t followed.

Wooyoung just laughed, his mischief only growing as he finally slowed down, his grip loosening as he threw you a victorious smile. “Did you see his face? He was practically glaring daggers at me!”

You rolled your eyes, brushing your hair out of your face as you tried to catch your breath. “You’re going to drive him crazy at this rate. What if he actually loses it?”

Wooyoung smirked, shrugging as if it was no big deal. “Isn’t that the plan? You’ll know for sure if he really likes you.” He wagged his eyebrows at you playfully, nudging you with his shoulder. “Besides, I’ve never seen him that riled up over anything—or anyone, for that matter. And if he’s jealous, it’s because he knows he’s got competition.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Wooyoung was already shooting you a smug grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he glanced over his shoulder, making sure Sunghoon hadn’t caught up to you. You hated to admit it, but a part of you couldn’t help but feel a bit giddy at the thought of getting under Sunghoon’s skin, especially after all the times he’d done the same to you.

Wooyoung didn't hold back over the next few days, sticking by your side at every opportunity, always there with that trademark mischievous grin. He’d slide into the seat beside you during classes, insist on walking you to the Great Hall for meals, and show up at the library to “help” you study—even if he spent more time drawing little doodles on your notes than actually being helpful.

You caught Sunghoon watching the two of you on more than one occasion, his gaze dark and intense, lips pressed into a firm line as Wooyoung leaned close to whisper something that would make you laugh. The frustration on Sunghoon’s face was unmistakable, but he never said anything. He would just look away with a huff, his jaw clenched as he turned his attention back to whatever was in front of him.

During Potions, Wooyoung made a particularly bold move, sliding his chair so close to yours that your shoulders brushed as you worked on a shared project. Sunghoon, who sat across from you, glared at Wooyoung with such ferocity that you were sure he’d burst.

“Are you two always this… close?” Sunghoon finally muttered, barely hiding the edge in his voice.

Wooyoung looked up with an innocent smile, putting an arm over your shoulder with exaggerated nonchalance. “Oh, absolutely. I’m just here to make sure no one distracts her from her studies,” he said with a wink in your direction.

You bit back a laugh as Sunghoon’s expression turned sour, his fingers tapping agitatedly against the desk.

As the days went on, Sunghoon’s patience seemed to fray bit by bit, his usual calm demeanor replaced by a simmering frustration. You could see it in the way he clenched his fists whenever he saw you with Wooyoung, how he’d roll his eyes when he overheard Wooyoung laughing with you in the library. He even began answering questions more aggressively in class, as though trying to reclaim some attention.

One evening, when Wooyoung had just pulled you out of the library after an impromptu “study session,” you spotted Sunghoon watching you from across the corridor, his expression dark. Wooyoung followed your gaze and smirked, leaning down to whisper, “I think he’s finally reaching his limit. Just wait—he’ll crack any day now.”

--

You were sat in the courtyard, finally getting a moment to study in peace with Wooyoung serving detention, a shadow fell over your books. You looked up, blinking as Sunghoon stood there, hands shoved in his pockets, an intense look in his eyes.

“Studying alone for once?” he asked, his voice casual, but the edge in it unmistakable.

You gave him a small shrug, trying to appear unfazed. “Yeah, Wooyoung’s busy.”

Sunghoon sat down across from you without asking, his gaze flickering over your books before settling on you. “So, you and Wooyoung… you’ve known each other for a while, huh?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant but clearly fishing for something.

You raised an eyebrow, sensing where this was going. “We’re good friends,” you replied simply. “We’ve known each other since second year.”

Sunghoon’s brows knit together, curiosity—and maybe a hint of jealousy—lingering in his expression. “How did that even happen? You two don’t seem like the most… obvious match.”

You laughed a little at the memory. “Oh, it was something, alright. I found him running from Filch after he’d set off one of those cursed prank fireworks. He practically begged me to hide him, so I did. After that, we just… clicked, I guess. I’d cover for him, and he’d keep me entertained with his ridiculous schemes.”

Sunghoon nodded, a faint smirk appearing on his lips. “So you’re telling me you’ve been cleaning up his messes for years.”

You laughed. “Pretty much.”

For a moment, Sunghoon seemed lost in thought, a silence settling between you as he absorbed what you’d shared. He looked down at the book open in front of you—a piece on mythical creatures.

“Sounds like you’re a better friend than he deserves,” he muttered, his voice barely loud enough to hear. And then, without waiting for your reaction, he quickly added, “But maybe you’re just too kind. I doubt you’d turn away anyone if they asked for help.” He leaned forward, arms crossed and a curious look on his face, as if he were ready to seize this moment and talk about anything—everything, even.

“So… this whole mythical creatures thing,” he began, nodding toward the book in front of you. “It’s what you want to do after school, right?”

You hesitated, but then you looked up and caught the way Sunghoon’s gaze softened as he waited for you to answer. There was no trace of his usual smirk or sarcastic tone; he just looked genuinely… interested. Almost desperate to keep this conversation going, like he needed to talk to you, even if it was about the most random thing he could think of.

Letting out a quiet sigh, you nodded. “Yeah… I guess I want to travel, see the world, learn about different creatures out there.”

Sunghoon nodded slowly, eyes never leaving yours. “Makes sense for you.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “What about you, Sunghoon? What do you want to do?”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking slightly awkward as he considered his answer. “Me? Well… my family expects me to follow in their footsteps and work in the Ministry. Some important role that’ll keep the Park name respectable or whatever.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised at how openly he was talking about it. “And… is that what you want?”

He hesitated, glancing away briefly before meeting your eyes again. “Honestly? No. But it’s not like I get much say in it. My parents… they don’t really ask what I want. They just have this… plan. And I’m supposed to go along with it.”

You softened, forgetting all about Wooyoung’s plan. “Maybe one day, you’ll get to do what you actually want. Even if it means disappointing a few people along the way.”

Sunghoon’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Maybe.”

While you and Sunghoon continued your conversation, Wooyoung burst onto the scene, looking a bit disheveled from detention.

"Hey! You promised you’d help me with Astronomy, remember?" he announced, hands on his hips as he gestured toward the library.

You blinked, taken aback. “Did I? I don’t remember promising that, Woo—”

But Wooyoung wasn’t giving you a moment to think. He sidled up to you, giving Sunghoon a mischievous side-eye as he tried to usher you away. That was, until Sunghoon suddenly stood up with startling speed.

“Actually, we’ll both help you,” he said firmly, his voice determined, like he was making a declaration. He looked between you and Wooyoung, and you couldn’t hide your surprise. Sunghoon had never offered to tutor anyone, much less help anyone study.

Wooyoung faltered for a moment, his usual quick wit momentarily stunned. “Wait, you want to help? Since when does Sunghoon Park volunteer to help anyone?” he stammered, clearly thrown off his game.

Without missing a beat, Sunghoon reached out, grabbing your hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and gently pulled you along. He positioned himself slightly in front of you, blocking Wooyoung’s view just enough to hold your attention. His touch was firm, warm, and you could feel the faintest bit of tension in his grip, as though he was reluctant to let you go.

“Come on,” he said, glancing back at you, eyes lit with determination.

You barely had time to process the boldness of his move, your heart beating a little faster at the intensity in his gaze. But then, from behind you, Wooyoung snapped out of his daze.

“Hey! Don’t leave me!” he shouted, sprinting forward to catch up.

Once inside the library, Sunghoon led you to a secluded corner, where the stacks of books created a quiet, private nook. He settled down across from you, pulling out his Astronomy textbook and parchment without a word. You followed suit, just as Wooyoung stumbled in, slightly out of breath and muttering curses under his breath.

"Merlin, Sunghoon, did you have to practically run here? Not all of us have legs that belong on a Quidditch team,” Wooyoung huffed, plopping down in the remaining seat and tossing his Astronomy books onto the table.

You chuckled softly, but Sunghoon didn’t seem to notice. He had already opened his book and was flipping to a relevant chapter, his eyes scanning the page with a quiet focus. The three of you settled in, and soon, you began explaining the constellations and how to identify them, taking a parchment to map out a few diagrams for Wooyoung.

Sunghoon added an occasional word here and there, though you quickly noticed his advice was always directed toward you, not Wooyoung. It was as if he couldn’t be bothered to look at Wooyoung directly, instead choosing to watch you as you spoke. Every so often, he'd chime in at the end of your explanations, repeating or affirming your words like a quiet echo.

"Right," you’d say, finishing up a description of Orion. “That’s why its belt is so distinctive in the night sky.”

"Distinctive,” Sunghoon murmured, nodding slightly as he watched you, his gaze steady.

Wooyoung, however, wasn’t about to let this slide. He shot you a look of exaggerated exasperation, rolling his eyes playfully as Sunghoon added yet another short agreement after your sentence.

“If I’d known studying with the both of you would be this one-sided, I’d have just gone to Hagrid’s for a simpler lecture,” Wooyoung quipped, pretending to grumble. He shot you a grin. “You’re doing all the heavy lifting here. Sunghoon’s just admiring the view.”

You stifled a laugh, glancing at Sunghoon, who simply shrugged and looked away, not even trying to deny it. A faint blush had crept up his cheeks, but he kept his gaze on his notes, acting unbothered as he continued to jot things down.

The table fell quiet for a moment, the only sounds being the rustling of pages and the scratching of quills. Sunghoon had finally turned his attention to his notes, his posture still stiff and focused, while Wooyoung, sitting across from you, began to plot. You could feel the mischievous glint in his eyes as he glanced between you and Sunghoon, an idea forming behind that grin of his. You knew that grin well—it was the kind of grin that spelled out nothing good.

And then, as if on cue, Wooyoung shifted in his seat, straightened up, and suddenly leaned forward, all casual-like.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice loud enough to carry across the quiet library. “Do you ever wonder what it would be like if Sunghoon here actually smiled when he helped us study? You know, like… with an actual expression, not just his usual ‘I’m-too-cool-for-this’ face?”

You shot him a look, one that made it clear you were aware of what he was doing. You opened your mouth to say something, but Wooyoung was already going for it. He nudged your elbow gently with his, a silent request for backup.

“I mean,” he continued, his voice deliberately drawing out the words, “I bet you could teach him a thing or two about showing some emotion, right? I’ve seen you make him smile once in a while. That’s kind of impressive, considering, you know… he usually doesn't even seem to know how to have fun. Maybe you should be his personal tutor on that.”

You suppressed a laugh, but it was difficult to stop your lips from twitching. Sunghoon, however, didn’t react at first. He kept his eyes on the page in front of him, though the muscles in his jaw twitched slightly, and his posture tightened.

Wooyoung wasn’t done. No, he was just getting started. He leaned back in his chair, completely at ease, as if he were speaking casually about the weather.

“So,” he said with a sly grin, “Sunghoon, what's it like, huh? Sitting here and being the epitome of cool? Don’t you get bored sometimes?” He leaned forward, directing his question to Sunghoon directly now. “You ever get jealous? Like when Y/N and I hang out and I make her laugh, but you can’t seem to do the same? Maybe you could learn something from me after all. You know, how to crack a joke here and there. It’d be a good change of pace for you.”

Your eyes widened, realizing the full extent of Wooyoung’s plan. He was making you the center of attention, and Sunghoon was stuck right in front of you, getting teased in a way that was bound to rattle him.

For a moment, it seemed like Sunghoon was going to retort, but then something changed. He looked at you briefly, his expression unreadable, before his gaze flicked back to his notes.

“I don’t need to crack jokes to be effective,” he muttered, the words clipped and sharp, though there was a distinct edge to them. “But you do seem to have a talent for making everything an entertainment show.”

Wooyoung’s grin only widened at the jab. "Well, someone’s gotta keep things interesting."

You were trying so hard not to laugh, your hand pressed against your lips to stifle the giggles. You could tell that Wooyoung was enjoying to push Sunghoon’s buttons, waiting for him to bite, and it was hard to ignore how Sunghoon seemed to slowly crack under the pressure.

Finally, you couldn’t keep it in anymore. You let out a soft laugh, looking at Sunghoon with a teasing smile. “You’re not gonna let Wooyoung get to you, are you?”

Sunghoon paused, his eyes flickering to you, he exhaled, almost like a sigh, and then said, with a quiet edge, “I’ve got more important things to focus on than whatever this is.”

Madam Pince appeared just as you were trying to suppress the last of your laughter, her stern eyes scanning the room. She spotted you from across the library and made her way over, her expression softening a little when she saw you sitting with Sunghoon and Wooyoung.

"Ah, Y/N," she said in her usual clipped tone. "I’m in need of some assistance. There’s a book missing, and you seem to be one of the few students who knows this library well enough to help me track it down."

You nodded quickly, grateful for the excuse to step away from the tension growing between Sunghoon and Wooyoung. "Of course, Madam Pince. I'll help you find it."

You were prepared to leave, but before you did, you leaned closer to Wooyoung, who was still watching Sunghoon, his expression one of quiet amusement.

“Play fair, Wooyoung,” you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear but soft enough that Sunghoon wouldn’t catch on.

Wooyoung gave you a wide, mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling with the hint of something else—perhaps a little bit of challenge. "You got it, Y/N," he whispered back, his voice teasing.

Then, you turned to Sunghoon, who had been unusually quiet, his eyes focused on his notes but his body language still tight. You weren’t sure if he was just avoiding Wooyoung’s teasing or if there was something else on his mind.

Leaning in slightly, you whispered to him, just as softly as you had to Wooyoung, “Go easy on Wooyoung, alright?”

Sunghoon didn’t immediately respond, but you could see his eyes flicker with a slight surprise. He gave a quick, almost imperceptible nod, though his lips remained pressed together in that tight line he often wore when he wasn’t sure how to express himself.

"Fine," he muttered, his tone as close to a concession as you’d get from him.

With that, you excused yourself from the table, gathering your bag and walking away with Madam Pince, who seemed to appreciate the extra pair of hands.

--

You handed Madam Pince the book when you found it, her lips curling into a small, appreciative smile. "Thank you, Y/N. You’re always so helpful," she said, before disappearing behind a shelf to return the book to its rightful place.

Once that was done, you made your way back to the table where you’d left Sunghoon and Wooyoung. But when you walked up, you noticed that only Sunghoon remained, his focus still on his notes, though he didn’t seem as intense as he had been earlier. His shoulders were slightly hunched over, his quill scratching across the parchment in front of him.

"Where’d Wooyoung go?" you asked, your voice light but curious.

Sunghoon didn’t look up at first, continuing to write something down before responding. "He got too bored and decided to leave. Probably off causing trouble somewhere," he said, his voice flat.

You sighed, shaking your head. "I should've known. He's always up to something."

Sunghoon just shrugged and went back to his work, not saying anything more.

After some time, Sunghoon glanced up from his notes and reached for one of the books you had both been reading. He scanned a passage, muttering something under his breath before looking at you again.

"Here’s a question," he said, reading aloud. "What do you think is the primary trait that allows a Thestral to remain undetected by most students?" He paused for a moment, his eyes locking with yours. "I think it's their ability to be invisible to those who haven't experienced death. What would you add to that?"

You thought for a second. "I would add that they also have an inherent ability to sense the emotions of others, which could explain why they only reveal themselves to people who have truly understood loss. It’s not just physical invisibility, it’s emotional, too."

Sunghoon nodded thoughtfully, a small smile playing at his lips. "I like that. You’ve got a good point."

As you both continued discussing the finer details of Thestrals, your chairs inched closer and closer without either of you noticing. At first, it was just a subtle shift in the way you both sat, both leaning in a little to be closer to the books and each other’s notes. But soon, you were sitting shoulder to shoulder, the space between you so small it almost didn’t matter anymore.

You could feel the warmth of his shoulder brushing against yours, a strange sense of familiarity in the way you both fit together in that moment. And when he passed you a book, his hand brushing yours in the process, neither of you pulled away.

The air between you both seemed to shift, subtle yet undeniable. Time seemed to slow for a moment, and you couldn't help but notice the brief flicker in Sunghoon's eyes—like he was aware of the closeness, of the sudden tension that hadn't been there before.

You both locked eyes, your gazes lingering a little longer than they should have. Then, just as quickly, his gaze dropped to your lips, and you felt a slight shift in your chest. You instinctively licked your lips, a nervous habit, and when you did, Sunghoon's gaze followed the motion, his eyes following the path of your tongue. You could almost feel the shift in his focus as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. You felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks at the realization that he had caught it, that he had been watching you so intently.

You gave him a soft smile, just a hint of amusement in your expression, before you quickly looked back down at your notes, trying to regain your composure.

Sunghoon, as if breaking free from whatever spell had taken hold of him, seemed to blink and shake himself out of his trance. His gaze shifted back to his notes, though there was a slight tightness in his jaw that hadn't been there before. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his usual collected demeanor.

"Right," he muttered, focusing on the book in front of him as though it was the most interesting thing in the room.

Your hand, poised over your quill, hesitated for a moment, as if unsure of what to write next. Your thoughts were scattered now—your mind buzzing with a thousand things, none of them having to do with the notes in front of you. You focused on the lines, the words, the shapes of the ink on the page, but it was a challenge. Everything felt so much more present now.

The night had stretched on without either of you noticing. The quiet between you had been comfortable, filled with soft whispers of pages turning and the faint scratch of quills on paper. When you finally stood, stretching your stiff limbs, the weight of the evening pressed down on you. Sunghoon, still by your side, packed his books slowly, as if reluctant to leave.

You both stepped out of the library together, the cool night air hitting you with the suddenness of it, making you shiver slightly. Sunghoon, as usual, was a step ahead of you, walking with that calm, collected air he always carried.

As the doors to the library clicked shut behind you, the portraits along the hallways seemed to come alive, their eyes following you both as you walked. Your eyes flicked over the various faces, and then you noticed a particular painting—two lovers standing close, gazing at each other with love. The two figures in the painting seemed to smirk at you, their eyes sparkling with mischievous intent.

A wave of warmth spread over you, and before you could even think, your face flushed, the embarrassment catching you off guard. You quickly looked away, focusing on the stone floor beneath your feet, trying to hide your blush. That’s when your gaze inadvertently lifted up, and you found yourself looking at Sunghoon.

You hadn’t meant to stare, but you couldn’t help it. His side profile was so striking, every feature seeming perfectly sculpted in the low light of the hallway. His sharp jawline was defined, the angle of it so perfect it almost looked like something out of a painting itself. His nose—straight and sharp—seemed to fit his face so well. You could see the faint moles on his skin, scattered along his otherwise perfect pale skin. His dark hair, messy but somehow perfect, fell effortlessly over his forehead, and the way it framed his face made everything about him seem even more… intense.

But it was his eyes that captivated you the most. Even though he wasn’t looking directly at you, you could feel them—those eyes that were usually so guarded, now more thoughtful.

When you reached the entrance to your common room, you stopped, both of you hesitant for just a second. The words you wanted to say stuck in your throat, you looked up at him again, your gaze lingering on his face.

“Thanks for walking me back,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sunghoon nodded, and for a moment, neither of you moved. He hesitated before giving you a small, almost imperceptible smile.

“Anytime,” he replied, his voice softer than usual, almost unsure.

--

You tossed and turned in your bed, the sheets tangled around your legs, the restless whispers of your bedmates’ snores filling the silence of the dormitory. Despite the rhythmic sound of their breathing, it only seemed to make everything feel more stifling. The night stretched on far too long, the weight of your thoughts keeping you wide awake. No matter how you shifted, how many times you tried to find a comfortable position, sleep refused to come.

It was late. Too late. You should be asleep, but every time you closed your eyes, the thoughts came back, chasing you into a wakefulness that felt almost unbearable. You groaned softly, rubbing your face with both hands.

Sighing in frustration, you finally gave up. With a groan, you sat up, blinking in the dim light that filtered in from the window. You glanced around at your sleeping bedmates, none of them aware of your restlessness. The soft, sleepy murmurs of their dreams only made the weight of your own thoughts feel heavier. You needed to get out.

Quietly, you slipped your legs off the bed and padded across the floor in your slippers. You grabbed your jacket from the back of your chair and threw it on over your pyjamas, the fabric slightly chilly against your skin. Your wand was a comforting weight in your hand as you whispered the slightest incantation under your breath. The quiet "Lumos" from your wand’s tip provided a faint light, just enough to guide your way.

The corridors of Hogwarts were eerily quiet, bathed in shadow, save for the faint glow of your wand. You moved carefully, keeping your footsteps light, aware of the potential danger of being caught. You didn’t want to risk Filch or Mrs. Norris spotting you, so you kept your senses heightened. If you saw anyone, you'd be ready to cast the Disillusionment Charm in an instant, blending into the shadows before they could even register your presence.

Before long, you reached your destination—the Astronomy Tower. You could already feel the calming presence of the stars, even from the base of the tower. You hurried up the winding stairs, each step taking you closer to the quiet peace of the tower. Your breath quickened as you climbed. When you reached the top, you pushed open the door to the tower and stepped out into the cool night air.

The stars twinkled above you, scattered across the sky like diamonds scattered on velvet. The moon hung high and bright, casting a silvery glow over the castle. The familiar peace settled over you, the noise in your head beginning to fade as you stood there, gazing out at the endless night.

As you stood there in the quiet, the faint shuffle of footsteps behind you pulled your attention away from the stars. You instinctively gripped your wand, the spell already forming in your mind, but before you could cast it, a familiar voice rang out, low and quiet, but unmistakable.

“Well, well, didn’t expect to see you here.”

You turned quickly, your heart racing, and found Sunghoon standing just a few feet away. His presence felt like a sudden shift in the air, his gaze fixed on you, unreadable yet steady. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at his lips.

“What are you doing here?” You tried to sound casual, but your pulse quickened. You had been hoping for solitude, not the unexpected company of someone who seemed to occupy so much space in your mind lately.

Sunghoon tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing in that way that made you feel as though he was always observing, always calculating. “Same reason as you, I suspect. Couldn’t sleep.” He took a step closer, his movements smooth and deliberate. “The stars have a way of making everything… quieter, don’t they?”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to make small talk or let the silence stretch on.

“I didn’t think you’d be the type to sneak out at night,” he added, his voice taking on that teasing tone you were so familiar with.

“I’m not usually,” you replied, though the words felt a little less convincing now. “Just… needed some air. Some time away from everything.”

“Everything?” Sunghoon echoed, his eyebrow raising slightly. “Including me?”

You froze, unsure how to answer, but before you could say anything, he was already standing next to you.

You turned your attention back to the stars, unable to meet his gaze. “No, not you,” you murmured quietly, almost reflexively. “I just… don’t know how to sort all of this out.”

Sunghoon was silent for a beat, then spoke again, his voice softer now, a touch more serious. “You know, you don’t have to figure everything out all at once.”

You met his gaze, and for the first time, you didn’t see a challenge there. “I don’t know if I want to figure it out,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

His lips curled into that familiar smirk, but this time, it was different. There was no teasing edge, just the soft hint of understanding. “Fair enough.”

You exhaled slowly, considering his words.

“You know,” he said after a moment, his voice almost thoughtful, “I’ve seen you up here before, on some nights.”

You blinked, surprised. “You have?”

He shrugged, his gaze never leaving the stars. “Sometimes. I didn’t want to disturb you, though. You looked… peaceful.”

There was a flicker of something in his eyes, but it was gone so quickly that you weren’t sure if you had imagined it. He shifted slightly, and before you knew it, he was sitting down on the cold stone floor of the tower, his legs crossed as he looked up at the sky.

You hesitated for a moment, then joined him, sitting a few inches away.

After a long silence, you broke the silence, your voice almost soft. “The stars look beautiful, don’t they?”

Sunghoon glanced at you, but instead of following your gaze to the sky, his eyes lingered on you for a moment. “Yeah,” he agreed. “They are.” His gaze lingered a moment longer.

He never really looked at the night sky at all.

--

History of Magic class had never been your favorite, but this particular day, you were running late, thanks to a rather inconvenient staircase that decided to shift just as you were climbing it. You had narrowly avoided tripping, but it had definitely delayed your arrival to class.

You stepped into the classroom with a quiet sigh of relief, thankful that Professor Binns was, as usual, sound asleep, floating behind his desk in his usual ethereal state.

Your eyes scanned the classroom for an empty seat, your gaze flicking from student to student until you caught sight of Sunghoon. He was sitting a few rows ahead, his expression calm, though his eyes subtly flickered toward you. He gave you a slight nod and a small gesture with his hand, silently urging you to sit beside him.

You hesitated for a moment, but then shrugged, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to join him. As you made your way toward him, you felt the weight of your bag on your shoulder, wondering if you’d packed something extra this morning. You dropped into the seat beside him and set your bag down with a sigh.

But as you opened it to grab your notes, you immediately gasped, shocked. There was something extra in there that you hadn’t packed—something that wasn’t supposed to be in your bag. You quickly shut it again, looking around nervously, but fortunately, no one seemed to be paying attention. Most of the class was too busy chatting or goofing off to notice.

Sunghoon, noticing your surprise, raised an eyebrow at you. “What’s wrong?”

You nudged the bag toward him, a questioning look in your eyes. He tilted his head, curious, and then leaned in slightly. Without saying anything, he reached over and opened your bag. When his eyes met yours again, his expression mirrored your own surprise, and he quickly closed it, his eyebrows shooting up in shock.

“What the hell?” Sunghoon muttered under his breath, glancing around to make sure no one had noticed.

You both kept your voices low, trying to keep the situation between just the two of you. Sunghoon passed you his notes for the rest of the class, a wordless agreement to focus on the task at hand.

By the time Professor Binns finally stirred, slowly waking from his nap, you were practically ready to bolt out of the classroom. Sunghoon, too, had packed up quickly, his eyes flickering over to you as if he shared your urgency.

The moment Binns waved you off with a disinterested dismissal, you were out of your seat in an instant, clutching your bag tightly to your side. Sunghoon followed after you, his footsteps quick and light as he kept pace beside you. The two of you slipped into an empty classroom just down the hall. You quickly shut the door behind you, and Sunghoon locked it, his eyes flicking back to you, unsure of what was about to happen.

You didn’t waste any time. You set your bag on a nearby table and opened it again, and as you reached inside, your fingers brushed against something warm and soft—and then, with a slight tug, you pulled out Spark, the little Niffler, who immediately clung to you with his tiny paws.

You couldn’t help but laugh in surprise as Spark squirmed in your grip, his shiny black eyes gleaming as he wriggled in your arms, his pouch clearly overflowing. “That’s why my bag was so heavy!” you exclaimed in disbelief, shaking your head. “I thought I packed an extra book! How did you sneak in there, little guy?”

Spark tried twisting around in your arms, desperate to get away, but you held him tightly, trying to keep him under control. He was practically a bundle of energy, clearly pleased with himself after whatever little heist he’d gone on.

Sunghoon watched you both for a moment, raising an eyebrow as he crossed his arms. “How did he even get away from Hagrid?” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and genuine curiosity.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Nifflers are tricky,” you said, your smile growing as you felt Spark nuzzle against you, clearly satisfied with his haul.

“I imagine Hagrid’s going to be missing something when he realizes.” Sunghoon said, his tone slightly teasing.

“I’ll return whatever he stole,” you said, a little exasperated, but the fondness for the mischievous creature clear in your voice. “If I can ever get him to give it back.”

Sunghoon’s eyes lingered on Spark for a moment longer before he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Only you could have a Niffler hiding in your bag during school.”

You smiled sheepishly. “Well, I don’t make it easy for myself, do I?”

Sunghoon let out a soft laugh, his gaze still fixed on Spark "Definitely not," he said, a teasing tone slipping into his voice.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile at the way he looked at you. You adjusted your grip on Spark, who had decided that now was the perfect time to try and escape, wiggling energetically.

"Okay, okay," you said, giving up trying to keep him still. "You win. You can go play, but if you steal anything else, I’m telling Hagrid." Spark let out a small chirp as he scurried off your lap and darted toward a stack of books in the corner of the room, clearly on the hunt for more shiny objects.

Sunghoon’s chuckle faded as he looked over at you, his eyes a little more thoughtful now. "You’ve got a lot going on, huh?" he asked, his voice soft, almost as if he was just realizing something he hadn’t thought about before.

You cut him off with a playful shrug. "It’s nothing I can’t handle," you said, your tone light. "Besides, I’ve got good company to help me through it." You flashed him a grin, hoping to keep things light.

Sunghoon’s eyes softened, his lips curving into a small smile. For a moment, he just looked at you, but before either of you could say anything more, Spark returned with what looked like a shiny button in his mouth, clearly pleased with his new find.

Sunghoon glanced at Spark, then back at you, his expression amused but still thoughtful. "I think you’re more like him than you realize," he said, a hint of warmth in his voice. "Getting into trouble, but always figuring it out somehow."

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his words. "I wouldn’t say I’m that bad."

He shrugged nonchalantly, his smile lingering. "Maybe not. But you definitely keep things interesting."

Eventually, Spark seemed to grow bored of his treasure hunt and returned to your lap, curling up contentedly. You smiled down at him, your fingers absentmindedly petting his fluffy little head.

"Guess we should probably get back to studying," you said, your voice softer now, more relaxed.

Sunghoon nodded, leaning back slightly in his chair, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer. "Yeah, I suppose so."

You and Sunghoon made your way to the courtyard after packing up your things from the empty classroom. The sun was beginning to set, casting a soft golden light over the stone pathways. The courtyard was quiet, except for the occasional rustling of leaves and the distant chatter of students who had finished their classes for the day. You found a quiet bench near the flowerbeds, your books spread out between you as you settled in to continue your study session.

As soon as you opened your notebook, the challenge began.

"So, what’s this about the Thunderbirds again?" Sunghoon asked, glancing at the page you were studying. "I’ve heard of them, but I’m not sure I get the whole thing."

You couldn’t help but smirk slightly, glad to have an advantage for once. "Thunderbirds are fascinating," you said, your voice animated as you leaned in a little closer to your notes. "They’re massive, magical birds that can summon storms with the beat of their wings. They’re native to North America and are known for being extremely elusive."

Sunghoon leaned back, crossing his arms with an amused smile. "Well, I already knew they could summon storms. But the elusive part? That’s new." He paused, then added, "So, what, they just hide all the time?"

"They’re incredibly protective of their nests," you continued, undeterred by his teasing. "They only show themselves to those they trust, and even then, it’s rare. That’s why spotting one is so special."

Sunghoon hummed thoughtfully, clearly intrigued, but then his gaze shifted to the open page of Defense Against the Dark Arts you had next to you. "Okay, okay. Enough with the Thunderbirds," he said, tapping the page lightly. "What about this spell here? Do you know how to counter the Inferius Charm? Because that’s actually something I’ve been working on in my spare time."

You paused, blinking a little at him. "Inferius Charm?" you asked, your brow furrowing as you tried to recall your lessons. "Isn’t that the one where you reanimate the dead?"

"Exactly," Sunghoon replied, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "It’s really tricky to deal with, but if you know the right counter-curse, you can stop them cold."

You thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I remember the counter-curse is Finite Incantatem, right? But it only works if the Inferius hasn’t fully gained control yet. Otherwise, you need something stronger, like Fiendfyre."

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. "You’ve been reading ahead, haven’t you?"

You smiled, a bit smug. "I like to be prepared."

"Well, I can see that," he said, turning his attention back to his notes. "But let me tell you something you might not know," he added, leaning forward a bit. "A strong Patronus works too. It’s not something most people would think about, but the energy from a Patronus is enough to break the dark magic animating the Inferius."

You blinked, surprised. "That’s… that’s actually really clever."

He smirked, clearly pleased with himself. "I don’t just look good, you know."

You rolled your eyes playfully, but there was something about the way Sunghoon said it, so confidently, that made you smile. "I’ll give you credit, that’s pretty impressive."

But you weren’t about to let him have the last word. "But, you know, for someone who’s so good at Defense Against the Dark Arts," you teased, "you should really know that Fiendfyre is a dangerous last resort. It’s not something to throw around casually."

Sunghoon raised his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. I’ll admit it—I was showing off a little."

You both laughed, as you leaned back, taking a deep breath. It was nice, you realized, to have this kind of easy conversation with him.

The cool evening air brushed against your face as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, casting the courtyard in a soft, dusky light. You and Sunghoon continued your quiet study session, each of you focused but every so often exchanging playful glances or little remarks.

You found yourself looking at him more often than you realized, noticing the way the fading light reflected in his dark eyes, how his sharp jawline seemed more defined in the soft glow of the evening.

"So, what’s your favorite magical creature?" Sunghoon asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence between you two.

You blinked, taken off guard by the question. "Favorite?" You thought for a moment, glancing at the magical creatures book on the table between you. "I think I’d have to go with Thestrals."

"Thestrals?" Sunghoon echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Isn’t that a bit dark for you?"

You smirked, tilting your head. "Not at all. They’re misunderstood creatures. They're associated with death, yes, but they’re also symbols of strength, resilience, and the importance of seeing the world for what it is."

Sunghoon seemed to pause for a moment, considering your words. "I get it," he said, his voice softening. "They're like the quiet ones that people forget about or are afraid of, but they're actually kind of… impressive."

You smiled, pleased he seemed to understand. "Exactly. They’re beautiful in their own way."

A comfortable silence stretched between you both after that, the air around you growing cooler as the evening progressed.

As you flipped through your notes, you heard him sigh, and when you looked up, his eyes were still on you.

"You’ve been pretty quiet about your personal life," Sunghoon said after a moment. His voice was casual, but there was an undercurrent of curiosity. "What’s something people don’t know about you?"

You raised an eyebrow, half-suspicious and half-curious. "Why the sudden interest?"

"I’m just wondering," he replied, shrugging with a nonchalant smile. "You know everything about me—well, almost everything—so I thought maybe I’d ask you something personal."

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. You weren’t used to opening up about yourself like this, especially to someone who had been a bit of a puzzle to you until now.

"I guess," you started slowly, glancing down at your notes for a moment, "one thing people don’t know about me is that I actually really enjoy quiet moments like this. Everyone always thinks I’m outgoing, but I like being still. I like the peace."

Sunghoon watched you closely as you spoke, his expression softening. "That’s… kind of surprising," he said, almost as if he were contemplating your words. "But I get it. It’s nice to just… exist in the moment sometimes."

You simply nodded.

--

As weeks passed and the tension between you and Sunghoon grew, you found yourself wrestling with your thoughts more and more. The plan you’d concocted with Wooyoung had seemed like a good idea at the time—push Sunghoon into showing his feelings by making him jealous. But now, the thought of it made you uneasy. You had seen the signs in Sunghoon—his subtle glances, the way his attention shifted to you whenever you were around. But you realized you didn’t want to force him into a corner, didn’t want to pressure him into confessing if he wasn’t ready.

The truth was, you wanted him to figure it out on his own, just as you wanted to figure out your own feelings. But that didn’t make it any easier. Your heart raced every time he was near you, and your thoughts seemed to trip over themselves when you tried to sort out what you were feeling. You didn’t want to rush things, didn’t want to push him into something that wasn’t genuine, but you were also terrified of staying in this state of tension forever.

Wooyoung, of course, noticed the change immediately. His wide grin faltered when you told him you were cutting off the plan. "You’re really giving up on this, huh?" he asked, a little disappointment creeping into his voice. "I thought you were just waiting for the perfect moment."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I don’t want to force him into something, Wooyoung. I’m tired of all the games." You paused, the weight of your words sinking in. "I don’t even know if I’m ready to confess to him, let alone push him into it."

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, his usual teasing expression softening for once. "You’ve got a point," he admitted. "But you know, you’ve got this… tension. Like the two of you are on the verge of something, and neither of you wants to take that step. How long are you going to let that happen?"

You glanced away, feeling your cheeks flush. "I don’t know… I’m scared, Wooyoung. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? Or worse, what if we mess everything up by saying the wrong thing?"

He watched you for a moment, his eyes softer than usual. "You’re not alone in that fear, you know? But if you never try, you’ll never know. Just… don’t overthink it."

It was advice that made sense, but the doubt still lingered. You had always prided yourself on being confident, on taking things head-on, but with Sunghoon, everything felt so much more complicated. It wasn’t just about your feelings for him—it was about everything else too. The quiet moments you shared, the unspoken tension, the way he made you feel when he was around. You didn’t want to risk losing all of that by moving too quickly or, even worse, by never moving at all.

And yet, the longer the silence stretched between you, the harder it became to ignore. There were times when you would catch Sunghoon glancing at you across the room, when you’d catch his gaze lingering just a moment too long. And each time, you wondered if he was feeling the same things you were.

The months passed, and the tension between you two only seemed to build. Neither of you had confessed, and yet there was this invisible thread that connected you. Every laugh, every glance, every conversation seemed to deepen the unspoken bond between you. You couldn’t tell whether it was a friendship or something more, but the ambiguity felt like a heavy weight.

You still didn’t know what the right choice was. And as the year went on, you found yourself questioning whether you had made the right decision. Should you have taken the leap? Should you have forced Sunghoon into confessing, just like Wooyoung had suggested? Or was your choice to wait, to let him figure it out on his own, the right one after all?

--

The cool night air wrapped around you as you sat cross-legged on the floor of the Astronomy Tower, your eyes tracing the constellations above. It was one of those nights when the stars seemed to shine brighter, when everything around you felt still and quiet, almost too perfect for the chaotic thoughts running through your mind.

Your focus shifted as you flicked your wand, turning a nearby stone into a delicate flower for only a second before it crumbled back into dust. Sighing, you leaned back, your hands behind you, as you stared up at the sky again, wondering if you would ever find the courage to move past the endless tension with Sunghoon.

Then, just as you had almost settled into the quiet peace of the night, you heard it—a familiar sound of footsteps, slow and deliberate. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. You’d recognized the pattern of his steps by now.

Sunghoon’s silhouette appeared at the entrance to the tower, framed by the moonlight streaming in behind him. His figure was tall and steady, his usual confident demeanor not quite as present as it usually was, as if he too had come here to clear his mind.

"You always seem to find your way up here," you said without turning around, your voice quieter than usual, betraying the tension you’d been feeling.

Sunghoon paused for a moment, his eyes scanning the room until they found you, sitting on the floor, and he walked over. “I could say the same about you,” he replied, his voice softer than it had been in a while. "What’s got you up here alone?"

You shrugged, unwilling to go into details. "Just needed a break," you said, keeping your gaze on the sky. "Thought some quiet would help me clear my head."

There was a silence between you two then, a gap that seemed too long, yet neither of you spoke up to fill it. Sunghoon finally sat beside you, a little closer than you’d expected, but not quite close enough to feel intrusive.

"Practicing spells again?" Sunghoon asked after a while, glancing at the objects around you.

You nodded. "Just keeping my skills sharp. You know how it is."

Sunghoon smirked, but it was softer than usual. "I thought you only did that when you were avoiding something."

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the slight teasing tone in his voice, but you didn’t give him an answer right away. Instead, you bent down and flicked your wand again, turning a small rock into a sparkling butterfly. It fluttered around for a moment before landing gently in your palm, disappearing almost instantly. You felt a small sense of accomplishment, though it was fleeting.

Sunghoon watched you carefully, the hint of a smile still on his lips. He leaned back on his hands, settling beside you, his body warm despite the coolness of the night air.

Finally, Sunghoon broke the silence again, his voice more serious this time, a tone you weren’t used to hearing from him. "You know, you don’t have to pretend with me."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you turned to face him. His eyes met yours, the usual smirk gone.

“I’m not pretending,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly.

He shifted closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "You don’t have to hide from me," he repeated, his voice softer now, with a touch of concern, or maybe something else. "I’m not like the others. You can talk to me, you know."

You were almost caught off guard by his words. Your heart raced, and your mind scrambled for something to say, something to break the sudden weight of the moment. But all you could do was stare at him, feeling like you were teetering on the edge of something.

“Sunghoon,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but it was enough to make him lean in closer, his gaze softening.

"Yeah?" he said, his breath a little more measured now, as if waiting for something.

But instead of answering, you simply shook your head, unable to find the words that felt right. Instead, you focused on the stars again, trying to ground yourself in the moment.

And Sunghoon, for once, didn’t push you. He simply sat there, his body close to yours, his presence familiar and comforting.

The night air was just as crisp as the night before when you found yourself back in the Astronomy Tower, sitting on the floor, gazing up at the stars. You had come up here again, hoping for some peace and quiet, needing to clear your mind, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was lingering in the air. You were starting to feel like the Astronomy Tower was becoming your place of refuge, even if the company had changed over the past few nights.

As you sat there, you heard the familiar sound of footsteps approaching from behind. You didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

Sunghoon stepped into view, holding a wizard chessboard under his arm, a smirk on his face as his eyes met yours.

“You’re here early tonight,” he said, his tone light but somehow teasing, his usual confidence already in full swing.

You raised an eyebrow, the corners of your mouth curving slightly upward. “And you’re late,” you shot back. “What’s that you’ve got there?”

“Thought we could mix it up tonight,” Sunghoon replied, setting the board down between you. "Wizard's chess."

You chuckled lightly at the idea. “You’re just trying to make this more interesting, aren’t you?”

Sunghoon grinned, shrugging. “Well, I figured it’d be more fun than just staring at the stars again.”

You didn’t argue. The quiet had been nice, but you couldn’t deny that a little challenge wouldn’t hurt. Plus, it was hard to say no when Sunghoon looked so determined to have a little fun.

With that, you both settled down and began setting up the board. It didn't take long for the first round to start. Sunghoon moved with surprising confidence, and it wasn't long before you were both deep into the game. The first round was over before you knew it—Sunghoon had won, and it seemed like he couldn't resist the opportunity to tease you about it.

“Looks like I’m just better at this than you,” he said with a cocky grin, clearly pleased with his victory. “Better luck next time.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “I’ll make sure to do better next round,” you shot back, your voice filled with mock determination.

The second round began, and you could already feel your competitive streak rising. This time, it was your turn to win, and as the last piece fell, you couldn’t help but smirk at Sunghoon.

“Not bad for a second round, huh?” you teased.

Sunghoon let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine, fine. I’ll give you that one. But I won’t make it easy next time.”

The third round began, and with it came a more intense back-and-forth. “You know, if you’d actually focus, maybe you’d have a chance at winning this round,” Sunghoon taunted, leaning forward as he eyed the pieces carefully.

You shot him a smirk, not missing a beat. “Oh, I’m focused,” you replied with a wink. “I’m just letting you think you have the advantage.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, clearly amused. “Right. I’m sure that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

You both continued to play, the tension between you growing more palpable with each move.

“I have to say,” Sunghoon mused after a few more moves, “you’re actually pretty good at this. Maybe you’re not just good at charms and transfiguration.”

You smiled, proud of yourself. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself. But don’t get too cocky; I’m still winning.” Sunghoon simply chuckled as the game went on.

The final move had been made, and with a smirk, you leaned back triumphantly, knowing that you had won the third round. "Looks like I’m the champion now," you teased, grinning widely at Sunghoon.

He was sitting back, his posture slouched in defeat, but there was something about the way he pouted that made you laugh softly. His eyes were still on the chessboard, as if pretending to study his loss, but you could tell he wasn’t truly bothered by it.

"Aw, don’t be like that," you teased, your voice taking on a playful tone. “It’s just a game.”

Sunghoon stayed silent, not giving you the usual comeback. Instead, he kept his eyes trained on the table, pretending to ignore you. You couldn’t resist the impulse to lean in.

As soon as you leaned in closer, though, his gaze flickered up to meet yours, and in an instant, everything shifted. Both of you froze, you were so close now that you could feel his breath mingling with yours, his eyes dark and intent as he locked onto you.

You were about to pull back, unsure of what was happening, but before you could move, Sunghoon’s hand shot up, his thumb and index finger gently cupping your chin. His touch was tender, almost possessive, as he leaned closer.

"Please… don’t pull back," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, his breath warm against your lips. His eyes fluttered between your eyes and your lips, clearly entranced by you, by the moment.

And then, before you could fully process what was happening, he closed the distance and kissed you. You widened your eyes in surprise, the shock of it stunning you for a brief moment, before you melted into the kiss, your hands instinctively reaching out to grip his shirt.

It felt like time stopped. The world fell away, leaving only the feeling of his lips against yours, the warmth of his hand still holding your chin as he deepened the kiss.

And just when you thought you couldn’t get any closer, he suddenly moved, shifting beneath you with an ease that surprised you. In a swift motion, he pushed the chessboard aside, sending it tumbling to the floor, and then pulled you onto his lap, your thighs resting against his, while still kissing you deeply.

You gasped, the suddenness of it all catching you off guard. The shock made you stiffen, but Sunghoon only tightened his hold on you, his hand on your waist, pulling you closer, his lips never leaving yours. His kiss became more passionate, and before you knew it, his hand was tilting your head to deepen the kiss further.

When the kiss finally broke, both of you were breathless. You stayed there for a moment, your forehead resting against his, both of you just breathing in the air between you.

Sunghoon’s hand gently brushed your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. His eyes, now softer than before, locked onto yours.

“About time, don’t you think?” he whispered.

You smiled softly, the corners of your mouth turning upward in a genuine expression. “Yeah, I think so,” you replied, shifting slightly, finding a more comfortable position on his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist.

His eyes never left yours as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss. You melted into him, your body relaxing into the familiar embrace.

Sunghoon's hands moved to your back, pulling you closer, as if he couldn't get close enough. His lips moved against yours, exploring, teasing, and demanding. You responded in kind, your hands finding their way to his neck, pulling him closer.

You could feel Sunghoon's breath against your lips, his chest rising and falling with each heavy exhale. You parted your lips, inviting him in further, and he took the opportunity, his tongue exploring every corner of your mouth. While your hands roamed freely, tracing the lines of his muscular back, feeling the heat emanating from his skin.

When the kiss finally broke, you both were breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. Sunghoon's hand gently caressed your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your lips. "I could do this forever," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire.

You smiled, a contented smile, and leaned in for another kiss, Sunghoon's hands roamed freely, tracing the contours of your body with a gentle touch. Your own hands moved to his chest, feeling the strong, defined muscles beneath your palms.

Sunghoon's lips became more demanding, more insistent. His tongue traced the outline of your lips, teasing and inviting, before plunging into your mouth, exploring every corner.

You gasped softly into the kiss, your body responding to his every touch and movement.

When Sunghoon pulled back, his eyes never left yours. He smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes, before leaning in and pressing soft kisses along your throat. You leaned your head back, offering him more room to explore, your eyes closed, savoring the sensation.

His kisses became more urgent, more demanding, as he traced a path down your throat, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You could feel his breath against your skin, hot and heavy, his lips moving lower, sending shivers down your spine, his lips teasing and exploring. His lips left a trail of passionate marks on your skin. His hands tugged at the robes, pulling them down to expose more of your bare skin, his touch becoming more assertive.

As he mumbled against your skin, his words were a mix of jealousy and possessiveness. "Seeing you so close with Wooyoung was driving me insane," he growled, his voice low. "You're mine, know that. I can't stand seeing you with anyone else. You're my perfect match, the woman I want, the woman I need."

His kisses became more fervent, his hands roaming over your body. "You're the only one for me. I belong to you."

Sunghoon's kisses became more demanding, his lips pressing against your throat, his teeth grazing your skin. "I want you," he murmured, his voice hoarse with passion. "I need you. You're mine, and I'll show you just how much."

"I'll always be here for you. You're the only one who can make me feel this way." His eyes locked with yours, a smile played on his lips. You returned the gesture, your eyes sparkling with love.

Sunghoon's hands roamed over your body, his touch gentle. He traced the lines of your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks, as if memorizing every contour. "I love you," he whispered again, his voice hoarse with emotion. "You're the only one for me. I can't imagine my life without you."

You gazed into his eyes, feeling your heart race as his words sank deep into your soul. A warm smile tugged at your lips, and you cupped his face in your hands, gently brushing your thumb over his skin. "I love you too, Sunghoon," you murmured softly. "You're everything to me."

--

The next morning, everything felt different.

You were both quieter than usual, walking side by side down the corridors toward the Great Hall, you glanced at Sunghoon, his hand slipping into yours, fingers naturally intertwining as if it was the most natural thing in the world. His thumb gently brushed the back of your hand, a small but comforting gesture that made your heart flutter a little each time.

As you entered the Grand Hall together, the usual buzz of conversation seemed to dim, and all eyes were on you both.

You walked to the Ravenclaw table, your eyes scanning the room as people’s faces lit up with surprise and amusement. Some of your friends, like Wooyoung, gave you knowing smiles, while others were just as surprised as the rest of the students.

You sat down with Sunghoon, still holding hands under the table. He looked over at you, his expression soft and affectionate.

“Can you believe this?” you started, leaning toward Sunghoon as you started ranting, your voice low enough not to be overheard by the entire hall. “It feels like everything has been building up forever and then—boom! Suddenly everyone’s waiting for us to spill everything.”

Sunghoon listened attentively, a small smile tugging at his lips, his eyes never leaving you.

“Well,” he said, his voice soft but teasing, “I’m pretty sure everyone had bets on us getting together.”

You paused for a moment, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “Wait, what? People bet on us?”

Sunghoon chuckled softly, his hand still holding yours under the table. “Oh, yeah. You didn’t know?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. “We’re that obvious, huh?”

“Apparently,” he said, his smile widening, he gently nudged you with his shoulder, his eyes glinting with affection. Without even thinking, you leaned in and gave him a quick, soft peck on the lips, the sweet, gentle gesture drawing a few surprised gasps and murmurs from nearby students.

You pulled away, grinning as you glanced around the table. “Well, that’s one way to shut them up.”

Sunghoon’s grin matched yours, and he shook his head, his cheeks flushed ever so slightly.

Some students were staring at you both with wide eyes, while others exchanged knowing glances, happy to see the two of you together. You could hear a few whispers, some offering congratulations, others teasing.

As you ate, you caught sight of Wooyoung at the other end of the table, giving you a thumbs up and a wide grin, clearly excited for the two of you.

“I guess we’re official now, huh?” you said quietly, your voice tinged with a little wonder.

Sunghoon nodded, his smile softening. “Yeah. Officially impossible to avoid.”

You laughed, leaning into his side for a moment before picking up your fork and continuing with your breakfast.

Wooyoung, of course, was the one who couldn't resist coming up to you at the given moment, a mischievous grin on his face. “I mean, I knew you two were perfect for each other. Now you have to admit I was right.” He dramatically threw an arm around your shoulders as you walked to class

You simply laughed, shaking your head.

--

The day of graduation arrived, and while the rest of the students was buzzing with excitement—filled with laughter and celebration—you found yourself slipping away from the crowded common room, seeking something more intimate, something quiet. You made your way up to the Astronomy Tower, the cool night air greeting you as you pushed open the door.

There, sitting by the edge of the tower, was Sunghoon, already waiting for you. His dark hair ruffled in the gentle breeze, and he looked so serene, so at peace in this moment that you couldn’t help but smile as you walked over to him. He turned his head as you approached, his eyes softening with affection when they met yours. Without a word, he opened his arms, and you slid into them, resting your head on his shoulder as you both gazed out at the stars together.

After a while, Sunghoon shifted, reaching into his robes with a faint smile, and pulled out a neatly wrapped box. He handed it to you, his eyes warm and full of anticipation.

"I’ve been meaning to give you this," he murmured, his voice soft in the stillness of the night.

Carefully, you peeled away the paper, revealing a small, elegant box. The surface was silver, polished to a shine, and you could see hints of blue around the edges. You ran your fingers over it for a moment before slowly opening the lid.

When you saw what was inside, your breath caught in your throat.

Two clocks, side by side, each gleaming with silver on the outside and a deep, beautiful blue on the inside. Intricate stars were imprinted on the faces of the clocks, each marking the hours with delicate precision. But it wasn’t just the time they showed. Both clocks also had a compass on it—N, S, E, W—engraved in elegant script.

Sunghoon smiled softly as he watched your reaction, the warmth of his gaze making your heart skip a beat. “It’s for us,” he said quietly. "I wanted to give you something that would remind you of us.”

You stared at the clocks for a moment, overwhelmed by the gesture, before you looked up at him. “Sunghoon… this is…” You didn’t know how to express what you felt, the words stuck in your throat.

“Open it,” he said, motioning to the other clock. With a curious tilt of your head, you reached over and carefully opened the glass of the second clock. The moment you did, a soft golden light began to swirl out, slowly forming into a shape. You watched, transfixed, as the golden light took form and danced in the air, weaving together until it became the image of you and Sunghoon—dancing together, caught in an eternal waltz as a beautiful, melodic tune filled the space around you.

You gasped, your hand going to your mouth in surprise and wonder. It was perfect, beautiful in a way you never could have imagined. You glanced at Sunghoon, your eyes wide, and he smiled back at you, his eyes just as captivated.

He opened his own clock, and the same golden light poured out, swirling in the air before it also took shape, the same dance playing out for him as well. His gaze never wavered from you as the music continued to play from both the clocks.

You couldn’t help but smile, your heart full as you looked up at Sunghoon. “This… this is beautiful,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

Sunghoon’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his hand reaching to gently cup your face. “I wanted you to have something to remember me by, even when we’re apart,” he said, his voice full of meaning.

Before you could reply, you leaned in, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. You felt him hold you back, his embrace warm and steady, the comfort you’d come to rely on. “I’ll never forget this,” you whispered, “I promise.”

--

The day of your departure arrived with a bittersweet air, the sky painted in soft pastels as dawn crept over the horizon. You stood on the edge of the dock, your packed bags at your feet, glancing back at the shore as you tried to memorize every detail of his face. Sunghoon stood before you, his expression torn between pride and sadness.

Sunghoon had just secured a permanent position at the Ministry—a rare opportunity. But you had your own opportunity, and the call for adventure had been tugging at you for as long as you could remember. You had already been offered a mission that would take you to distant lands and across oceans. It was everything you had always wanted.

Sunghoon’s hand lingered on your arm as he looked at you, his voice a quiet plea, “You really have to go?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you looked into his eyes. “I do,” you whispered, the words heavy with both excitement and sorrow. “But I’ll come back, Sunghoon. I promise.” Your voice wavered, but you steadied it with a smile, reaching to brush a strand of hair from his face. “Will you… wait for me?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Of course I will,” he replied, his voice strong and certain, as though the very idea of waiting for you was as natural as breathing. His fingers wrapped around yours, his touch warm and grounding. “I’d wait as long as it takes. Just come back to me.”

You nodded, and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment. Then, his lips found yours in a kiss that held a hundred unspoken promises.

As the final boarding call echoed through the harbor, you reluctantly pulled back, whispering one last, “Goodbye, Sunghoon.”

He offered you a small, brave smile, and with a last squeeze of your hand, he let you go. You climbed onto the boat, joining the other passengers. As the vessel began to pull away from the dock, you stood by the railing, watching him grow smaller with each passing second. Sunghoon lifted his hand in a final wave, and you threw one back, watching as he brought his hand to his mouth and sent you a flying kiss, his eyes never leaving you.

You clutched the railing, feeling the sting of tears but forcing a smile, a mixture of sorrow and exhilaration filling your chest. As the boat carried you into the unknown, you kept your eyes on him until he was nothing more than a speck on the horizon.

Your days got filled with adventure, traveling through vast, uncharted landscapes, rescuing rare creatures, and studying them closely. You documented each discovery, scribbling notes about their behaviors and habitats. Alongside your journal of field notes, you kept a separate stack of parchment, devoted solely to letters for Sunghoon. Every new place held a piece of him in it, something you wanted to share, some wonder or funny moment that you could only imagine him smiling at.

And he always replied, his letters rich with life back home—updates from the Ministry, stories about mutual friends, and playful teases about your escapades. You looked forward to every letter, savoring the small glimpses of him through the familiar strokes of his handwriting, each one a reminder of the life and love waiting for you.

But one month, his letters stopped coming.

You brushed it off at first, thinking maybe he was just busy or that there was a delay in the postal owls. But when another month passed without a single word, a sense of worry began to settle in your chest. You sent him a new letter, keeping it light-hearted but laced with an unmistakable undertone of concern, hoping he’d notice and send some sort of reassuring response.

But again, nothing came.

With each passing day, the silence grew heavier, until every rustle of feathers outside your tent made your heart race, only to end in disappointment. As more weeks passed, you found yourself sending letters more frequently, each one shorter but more urgent, your worry gradually bleeding into your words.

The unease gnawed at you, your once joyful routine now tainted with an ever-present sense of dread. Every empty day brought more questions—was he hurt? Was he in trouble? Had something happened?

One quiet morning, as you were packing up your campsite nestled in the foothills of the Pyrenees, a Ministry owl swooped down through the trees, its wings stretched wide and a letter clutched tightly in its talons. You straightened up, brushing off a bit of dust as you reached out, and the owl settled onto your forearm with surprising patience. It offered the letter, a pristine parchment sealed with the unmistakable stamp of the Ministry of Magic.

Curious, you took it, feeling the weight of the thick, neatly folded paper as you broke the wax seal.

As you unfolded the letter, a few crisp lines of text caught your attention immediately.

“You are hereby requested to present yourself at the Ministry of Magic for a formal review and trial regarding the research conducted and documented during your travels.”

You read it once, then again, trying to piece together the intentions behind the message. A formal trial? For your research? The Ministry had always been aware of your work with magical creatures, especially since you regularly submitted reports to protect and conserve species that had been neglected. You’d even been granted clearance to travel beyond regulated zones, so why the sudden summons?

You hummed softly, contemplating the letter with a mix of curiosity and unease. It wasn’t every day the Ministry reached out with such formality, and it certainly wasn’t the usual tone you received from them.

You weren’t sure whether to be nervous, intrigued, or just plain confused. You’d spent so much of your time studying and protecting magical creatures, especially those forgotten by the wizarding world, that the thought of a trial for it felt… off. You had no idea why they’d be interested in you, but you were more than willing to go and see what they wanted.

Just as you were about to read it again, you felt a gentle push at your side. With a giggle, you turned and looked at the creature that had nudged you—Erebus, the Hebridean Black dragon you’d rescued some months ago. His large, dark eyes gleamed up at you, and you reached out instinctively to scratch under his chin. His scales shimmered in the late afternoon sun, and his powerful wings rustled with a slight shift, his massive form bending slightly to press against you affectionately.

"Hey, hey, buddy," you said with a soft laugh. "No need to get pushy, I see you there."

You knew full well that Erebus had grown attached to you ever since you had saved him. He was a creature that had been bound, tortured, and left to die in a dungeon before you found him. Healing him had been a challenge, but when you saw the life come back into his eyes, the pride of the dragon slowly awakening as he learned to trust again, it was worth it. Erebus wasn’t just a rescued creature—he was your companion, your friend. And he had stayed with you ever since.

You glanced at the letter again. "I’ve got to go to the Ministry, it seems. They're asking for me."

Erebus snorted at the letter, a cloud of smoke billowing from his nostrils. You coughed and waved the smoke away. "Okay, okay, I get it. Not exactly ideal, right?" You smiled, running a hand over his scales. "But I’m not sure how much of a choice I have."

You looked at the open sky, mentally preparing yourself for the journey ahead.

“Looks like our plans to get you home will have to wait,” you murmured, holding up the Ministry’s letter.

You quickly took out your wand, and with a swish, your camp, all your notes, and the little research station you had set up around you swirled into a tidy, compact form, sucked into your magically expanded suitcase. The suitcase, a nifty little thing inspired by none other than Newt Scamander himself, whose work had been a guiding light for you since your early days as a student. You hoped that one day, you’d be able to follow in his footsteps as a trusted protector of magical creatures.

It had become indispensable during your travels, allowing you to carry your work with you wherever you went. Erebus watched as the suitcase opened and the whirlwind of your belongings was sucked inside, his wings twitching in mild curiosity.

"Alright, buddy," you said with a soft smile, glancing at him. "Time to go home… for a bit."

Erebus made a low rumble and flapped his wings. His deep growl seemed almost resigned, but you could tell he didn’t mind. He had grown used to these travels with you. He flew up effortlessly, circling above your head a few times, before swooping down and slipping neatly into the suitcase as though he’d done it a thousand times before.

"Good boy," you said with a smile, and with a soft click, you closed the suitcase, feeling its weight shift in your hand.

With a deep breath, you started walking, leaving the small, once-familiar encampment behind.

--

You stepped into the bustling atrium of the Ministry of Magic, clutching your suitcase tightly as you navigated the maze of witches, wizards, and magical beings bustling around you. The air was filled with the echoes of conversations, the hum of enchanted typewriters clattering away on desks, and the occasional whoosh of a fireplace activating, delivering someone in a puff of emerald flames.

Keeping a firm grip on your suitcase, you weaved your way through the crowd, nodding politely to a few familiar faces and doing your best to avoid making eye contact with anyone who might delay you. When you reached the elevators, the gate clanged open, and you stepped inside.

A house-elf stood on tiptoes near the control panel, staring up at you with large, curious eyes. “Which floor, miss?”

“Level Ten, please,” you replied, your voice steady despite the knot of anticipation tightening in your stomach.

The elf pressed a large, brass button marked with the number "10." The elevator jolted, and you gripped the suitcase handle a little tighter as the floors began to blur past, each accompanied by a soft chime.

After what felt like an eternity, the elevator slowed and came to a halt. The house-elf opened the gate, giving you an encouraging nod. You stepped out into the quiet, dimly lit hallway, your footsteps echoing as you moved. You walked up to a high desk where a stern-looking goblin sat, peering over a thick ledger with tiny, round spectacles perched on the end of his nose. He glanced up as you approached, his sharp eyes narrowing with curiosity as he took in your travel-worn appearance.

“What business do you have here?” he asked, his voice clipped but not unkind.

“I received a letter from the Ministry,” you said, pulling the official notice from your coat pocket and holding it up. “There’s a trial regarding my research.”

The goblin took the letter, inspecting it with a keen eye before nodding curtly. He flipped through a hefty stack of parchment, his long, nimble fingers moving quickly as he scanned each page. Finally, he gave a satisfied grunt and pushed the letter back toward you.

“Please have a seat,” he instructed, nodding toward a row of chairs against the wall. “Someone will come to escort you shortly.”

You thanked him and moved over to the chairs, your suitcase resting against your legs.

You had been sitting quietly in the waiting area, your thoughts whirling, when you saw Jungwon approaching. You recognized him immediately — a Gryffindor from your years at Hogwarts, though you never had much of a chance to get to know him personally. His warm smile caught you off guard, and you blinked as he stopped in front of you, his eyes twinkling with recognition.

"Hey," he greeted, his tone light and friendly. "Please, follow me."

You nodded, standing up as you grabbed your suitcase and followed him down the hall.

“So, how have you been?” Jungwon asked casually, casting a glance over his shoulder as you walked beside him. "It's been a while since Hogwarts, huh?"

You hummed in agreement, trying to place him better. You'd seen him around, but your interactions had always been limited. He was close to Sunghoon, wasn’t he?

“I’ve been well,” you answered, pulling your thoughts together as you walked, eyes flicking to the side. “So, uh… what’s this trial about?”

Jungwon shrugged nonchalantly, his hands tucked into his pockets. “Honestly, I’m not really sure. Ministry business, you know?”

Your curiosity couldn’t be quelled, though. “What about Sunghoon? How is he?” The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them.

Jungwon froze mid-step, and you followed his lead, watching as he turned to face you. His expression shifted, no longer the light, easygoing one he had worn just moments before. There was a sadness in his eyes, a quiet heaviness that you hadn’t anticipated.

For a moment, he seemed reluctant to answer, then he sighed. “Sunghoon’s… well. I mean, he’s okay. But,” he paused, studying your face carefully, “he found someone else.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you weren’t sure you had heard him correctly. “What?” The word felt foreign coming from your mouth, like a punch that left you stunned. “He… moved on?”

Jungwon nodded slowly, a faint frown tugging at his lips. “Yeah. A few weeks ago, actually. Sunghoon became… really different. Quiet, withdrawn. Wouldn’t speak much, and then, out of nowhere, he started showing up with Ju-Won. She’s an Auror too, like him. They’re together now. They’re engaged.”

Your chest felt tight, the air suddenly thicker as a lump formed in your throat. Sunghoon had promised. He had promised to wait for you. But here he was, with someone else. A fiancee.

You looked down at the floor, blinking rapidly to clear the stinging sensation behind your eyes. The room felt smaller, like you were suffocating, and you couldn’t understand why the weight of this hurt so much. You hadn’t expected Sunghoon to wait forever, but you didn’t think he’d let go so easily.

Jungwon shifted uncomfortably, noticing the change in your expression, but he didn’t press the issue further.

You felt numb as you followed Jungwon down the long corridor, his words echoing painfully in your mind. Sunghoon… had found someone else? You struggled to maintain your composure as Jungwon walked beside you, keeping a respectful silence.

He eventually stopped in front of a tall, polished door. “This is where they’ll be holding your trial,” he said gently. “You’ll be called in shortly.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

Jungwon hesitated for a moment, studying you with quiet sympathy. It felt like he wanted to say something, perhaps offer some kind of comfort, but he seemed to decide against it, only giving you a slight nod before stepping into the room to take his place. You were left alone in the dimly lit hallway, your heart pounding. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus on the present. Whatever happened with Sunghoon, you would face it later. For now, you had a duty to the creatures you’d studied.

The door opened again, and an official leaned out to call you in. You squared your shoulders, lifted your chin, and stepped through the doorway.

The room was silent as you entered, only the shuffling of your footsteps echoing off the cold, stone walls. You took a seat in the lone chair positioned in the center of the room, feeling the weight of several pairs of eyes on you. Around you sat a panel of stern-faced Aurors, their expressions unreadable, though a few cast glances at one another as you settled in.

A head Auror, an older witch with sharp eyes and a set jaw, leaned forward. “We’ve received reports about your research,” she began, her voice crisp. “Could you give us an update on the… progress?”

You took a steadying breath and sat up straighter, the words flowing more easily than you expected. "I’ve made significant strides. I’ve been able to identify new species and create methods for safely caring for previously misunderstood creatures. I've also created healing treatments for certain species that were previously unmedicated." You shifted uncomfortably, but you managed to keep your voice steady.

Then came the dreaded question. “And have you rescued any creatures considered… dangerous?” another Auror asked, his tone laced with skepticism.

You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “Not dangerous if treated with respect,” you replied slowly, though you could feel their eyes narrowing, their skepticism deepening. The more you spoke, the more their expressions tightened.

After you finished, the lead Auror exchanged a glance with her colleagues before turning back to you. “You must understand, there are serious concerns about the dangers of these creatures. The potential for harm — not only to yourself but to others — is considerable.”

Another Auror stood, arms crossed, his voice dismissive. "You expect us to believe that every dangerous creature can be domesticated, tamed even? You do realize some of them are classified as too hazardous for interaction with the public?"

You met his gaze, trying not to show how much it rattled you. "My research shows that with the right methods, creatures like the Hungarian Horntail or the Manticore can be approached safely. I've helped them—rescued them—from illegal situations, from being exploited and misused." You said firmly.

"They're not dangerous if treated properly. With the right care, understanding, and respect, any creature can be manageable." You said earnestly, hoping they could see your perspective. “The true danger lies in the lack of understanding—”

But your words were cut short as she raised a hand, her tone turning icy. “Regardless, we cannot ignore the potential risks. Until further investigation is completed, you will be placed in custody for the time being.”

Before you could fully register her words, two wizards stepped forward, their expressions unyielding. One reached for your suitcase, wrenching it from your grasp, while the other grabbed your arms, twisting them behind your back. "Let go!" you shouted, trying to twist away, but the grip on your arms only tightened.

"We have our orders," the Auror said coldly, his face stoic as the other wizard snatched your wand away.

"No, please," you pleaded, your voice rising in panic. "I’m not a threat. They’re not a threat! Please, don’t hurt them!"

The Auror didn’t respond, and you felt the heavy presence of the two men as they dragged you from the room, your footsteps stumbling as they led you down the cold stone corridors. They escorted you to a small cell, shoving you inside before locking the heavy iron door with a dull clang.

You sank to the floor, the cold seeping into your bones as the reality of the situation settled over you. The Ministry was truly going to investigate your work, your methods, your intentions — as if you were some criminal. As if the creatures you loved and fought for were merely threats, rather than lives in need of protection.

As you pressed your back against the wall, feeling the weight of the day’s events pressing down, a tiny warmth stirred in the pocket of your shirt. You looked down and saw Kai, your small fire salamander, peeking out with his bright eyes, looking up at you with a gentle curiosity.

Gently, you cupped him in your hands, letting him sit on your palm as he looked around, with a small, trembling smile, you whispered, “Guess it’s just us for now, Kai.”

You gently placed Kai down on the stone floor, the warmth of his small body still lingering in your hands. You rummaged through your pockets, searching for something that could help, anything that would make sense of the mess you found yourself in. Herbs, a magnifying glass, food for creatures, parchment, ink—nothing useful.

As you sighed and leaned down, when a small fluttering noise caught your attention. Lena, your tiny pixie, had emerged from under your coat and was now fluttering around the cell, her tiny wings flapping excitedly. She squeaked, the sound high-pitched and curious as she zipped around the dim space. You smiled faintly at the sight of her, but your thoughts were too heavy to focus on her antics for long.

Your fingers brushed the cool edges of your pockets until something caught on the fabric. For a moment, you thought it was just some misplaced trinket, but as you pulled it out and saw its familiar shape, your breath hitched.

It was the clock that Sunghoon had gifted you at graduation, still in pristine condition despite everything. You had almost forgotten about it—thinking it misplaced, or perhaps stolen by one of the nifflers in your suitcase. But there it was. The clock.

You ran your fingers over the intricate silver design, the blue inner face still shimmering under the dim light. With a shaky breath, you slowly opened the glass. A soft golden light began to swirl from the clock’s center, and you froze, mesmerized by the familiar vision of you and Sunghoon dancing—just as it had been when you first opened it. The music filled the cell softly, the melody so beautiful and haunting, it almost felt like he was here with you.

Kai curled up beside you, his flame-like body flickering faintly in the dim light. Lena hovered just above your head, watching the clock with curious eyes. You took a deep breath, closing the glass gently, the music fading as you sealed it shut.

But then, unexpectedly, the music played again.

This time, it wasn’t your melody. The sweet, familiar tune was still there, but it felt different. Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could process the strangeness of it, Kai’s small squeak interrupted your thoughts. You looked up, and what you saw made your breath catch in your throat.

There, standing on the other side of the bars, was Sunghoon, holding his own clock in his hand, the same golden light flickering from it.

"Sunghoon…" you whispered, your voice barely audible, a wave of relief rushing over you, followed by a knot in your throat as you realized he was here.

He glanced at you, his eyes softening, though they weren’t as warm as you remembered. There was something different in them, something you couldn’t quite place. He closed the clock with a decisive motion and met your eyes.

"You’re… okay?" you asked quietly, your heart pounding in your chest as you walked closer to the bars, your hands reaching out instinctively.

"I’m fine," he said, his voice calm but distant. "But you—what happened? Why are you here?"

You tried to explain, your words stumbling out as you told him everything—how you had been summoned by the Ministry, how they had misunderstood your work, how they’d locked you away. You could see the muscles in his jaw tighten as you spoke, but he didn’t interrupt.

When you finished, you couldn’t help but ask the question that had been gnawing at your mind ever since you’d seen him. "Sunghoon, what happened? Why didn’t you answer my letters? I… I sent so many. Why didn’t you—"

He turned away for a moment, running a hand through his hair. You could see the conflict in his movements, the hesitation, and for a brief second, your heart dropped. It was as if he was trying to find the right words. "I… I waited for you," he finally said, his voice soft, almost too soft. "I waited, but you never came back. I kept writing, but I didn’t hear from you."

You felt a tightness in your chest as you processed his words. "What do you mean? I sent you letters, Sunghoon! I didn’t stop writing! How could you not know?" you asked, your voice rising slightly.

He looked back at you, his face confused. "I don’t know. I thought you just… didn’t come back. Didn’t answer. Then, my parents…" He trailed off, clearly struggling. "They found Ju-Won for me. I—I didn’t know what to do. And then Jungwon came to me after the trial. He told me about you being here, and I couldn’t believe it."

Your breath caught in your throat. "Ju-Won?" you whispered, the name like an icy hand on your heart.

He shook his head slowly. "I never wanted this. But I thought… maybe you had moved on, that you weren’t coming back." His voice cracked just slightly.

You looked at him, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over you. "No, Sunghoon… I never… I never moved on. I sent you letters because I was coming back for you, I was always coming back."

Sunghoon’s expression shifted, a quiet realization flickering across his features. He took a step forward, his hand trembling slightly before he reached out to gently caress your cheek. The touch was so soft, so tender, that it almost felt like a dream.

“You’re still as beautiful as the day you left…” His voice was low, his words barely more than a whisper, but they cut through the heavy silence between you two, settling in your heart like a soft ache.

A stray tear slipped from your eye, and you didn’t even realize it had fallen until Sunghoon gently wiped it away with his thumb.

“I’ll get to the bottom of this,” he said, his voice firm now. "I promise, I’ll get you out of here."

You felt your chest tighten, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. Your heart felt torn, as if it was caught between the relief of seeing Sunghoon again and the panic of the mess you were in. "Please, Sunghoon… don’t let anyone harm my creatures."

He nodded, his gaze softening as he promised, "I won’t let them touch your creatures. I’ll take care of everything."

Then, to your surprise, he took your hand and kissed it softly, the warm pressure of his lips lingering for a brief moment. "I’ll be back soon. Stay safe, okay?"

You nodded, unable to form words as he turned and walked away, the sound of his footsteps fading, leaving you alone in the cold cell once again.

You sat back down against the cold stone wall, the silence of the prison pressing in on you.

Kai curled up on your lap, his warmth a small comfort amidst the uncertainty. Lena hovered nearby, her small face full of concern.

You didn’t know what to do now but wait and hope—hope that Sunghoon could undo the mess, that your creatures would remain safe.

After what felt like endless hours, you finally heard footsteps echoing down the corridor. Jungwon appeared at the cell door, a familiar reassuring smile on his face as he unlocked the door and motioned for you to follow. You stood up, heart pounding, and fell into step beside him.

“What happened?” you asked, searching his expression for answers, but he only gave you a gentle smile.

“Come with me,” he said simply, guiding you back through the winding halls of the Ministry to the trial room. The familiar sight of the council waited for you, but this time, the atmosphere was far less severe. You sat down in the chair at the center, your heart hammering in your chest, and looked up at the head Auror as he cleared his throat.

"We’d like to extend our apologies. We received a tip that you were harboring magical creatures with intent to use them against the Ministry," he explained. "After thorough investigation, however, we've concluded that the tip was unfounded. We see now that you only meant to help the creatures in your care."

A wave of relief washed over you, and a smile broke across your face as the head Auror nodded, officially releasing you as innocent. Jungwon stepped forward, his own smile widening, and handed you back your wand. You clasped it tightly, feeling a sense of calm return now that it was back in your hands.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “What about my creatures? Where are they?”

"Follow me," Jungwon said, his tone lighter now. He led you down a quiet corridor, explaining as you went, "Sunghoon took them under his care. He didn’t trust anyone else to keep them safe."

You sighed in relief, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. Finally, Jungwon stopped in front of a door, pushed it open, and gestured for you to enter.

Inside, Sunghoon stood by a desk, his expression tense, and his brows knit together in a rare display of anger. He looked up when he heard you enter, his expression softening, though a hint of frustration remained.

“Sunghoon… what happened?” you asked gently, stepping closer to him.

He clenched his jaw before answering, “It was my parents. They were behind everything.” His voice was low, controlled, but you could sense the anger simmering just beneath the surface. “They hid your letters from me. They sent the tip to the Ministry to have you arrested. And they set me up with Ju-won to… try to make me forget you.”

The revelation hit you like a cold wave. You shook your head, barely able to process the extent of what he was saying. "Your parents did all of that?"

Sunghoon nodded, his eyes searching yours. “They wanted me to move on, to find someone ‘suitable’—someone who fit their idea of a perfect match for me.” He took a shaky breath, looking away for a moment before his gaze returned to you. “I'm so sorry… I should have fought harder, questioned things more. I should have known something wasn’t right.”

You stepped forward, reaching for his hand, holding it tightly. “None of this is your fault, Sunghoon. You didn’t know, and neither did I.”

He nodded, his thumb brushing over your hand as he held it, and his expression softened. "I promise, I won’t let anyone keep us apart again." Sunghoon sighed, his eyes hardening as he pulled off the engagement ring, placing it on the desk without a second glance. He turned to you, a reassuring smile replacing the coldness from a moment ago, and handed over your suitcase.

You exhaled a breath of relief, hugging the suitcase close to your chest. “Thank you… for everything.”

“Come on,” Sunghoon said with a gentle smile, his hand resting protectively on your back as he guided you out. As you walked, you shared stories about the magical creatures you’d encountered on your travels, and he recounted a few of his more daring Auror missions.

But then, a sudden scream echoed down the corridor. You both turned to see a striking witch with dark hair and a sharp, furious expression storming toward you. Sunghoon’s arm instinctively wrapped around you, pulling you close.

“Sunghoon, how dare you!” she spat, her voice venomous. “You broke off our engagement for… for her?” She glared at you, eyes filled with barely contained rage. Her voice turned shrill as she pointed a finger in your face. “Do you know what you’ve cost me? The riches, the influence, the Park name—it was all right there!”

You slapped her hand away, your own anger flaring as you met her gaze unflinchingly. “Maybe you should’ve focused on him instead of what he could give you.”

Ju-won’s face twisted in rage, and you saw her hand rise, ready to strike you. But before she could even get close, Lena darted out of your pocket in a flash of blue light. The little pixie squeaked angrily, grabbing a fistful of Ju-won’s hair and tugging with surprising strength.

Ju-won shrieked, swatting at Lena in a desperate attempt to free herself, but Lena only pulled harder, her squeaks of defiance echoing in the hall. The few Ministry workers nearby stopped, eyes wide, as they took in the scene with shock.

“Get it off! Get it off!” Ju-won screeched, struggling against Lena’s relentless hold.

At last, with a little triumphant squeak, Lena released Ju-won’s hair and zoomed back to you, settling into your shoulder pocket. Ju-won stumbled back, face red with fury and humiliation, her hair in complete disarray.

Ju-won’s face twisted with fury when she suddenly pulled out two clocks from her pocket, dangling them from the strings with a victorious grin. “Oh, I will not be cast aside like this!” she spat, voice rising with a venomous edge. “You think you can have everything, don’t you?” she sneered. “Well, let’s see how it feels when something you want is taken from you.”

Both you and Sunghoon stiffened, the realization hitting like a punch to the gut. You immediately began patting yourself down, confirming what you feared—the clock was missing. She stole them. The heavy weight of anger settled over you as you watched her mockingly dangle them in the air.

“Ju-won. Give them back, now.” Sunghoon’s voice was low and commanding, each word sharp with fury.

You stepped forward, frustration bubbling inside you. “Those belong to us. You have no right to take them.”

“No!” Ju-won shouted, clutching the clocks tightly in her fists. With a spiteful glare, she spun around and hurled the clocks toward the nearest fireplace. The green flames of the Floo Network flared up, threatening to consume them.

Your wand was halfway out of your pocket, ready to cast Accio, but before you could speak, a familiar, small, furry figure leapt through the air. With nimble agility, a niffler intercepted the clocks mid-flight, snatching them away from the flames and landing safely on the floor.

The niffler scurried over to Sunghoon, who leaned down, carefully taking both clocks from its little paws. He gave the creature an affectionate pat. “Thank you, Spark.”

Spark beamed up at you, his eyes shining with the same mischievous glint they had from back at Hogwarts. He darted over to you, leaping up into your arms, and you caught him, laughing. “Hey, long time no see, buddy!”

Ju-won’s face twisted in disbelief as Sunghoon straightened, his eyes fierce. He addressed her with a calm authority that made her shrink back. “Ju-won, what you did today only shows that you don’t belong here,” he said, his voice low and unyielding. He leaned in, murmuring something sharp and private into her ear that made her face go pale.

With a final huff, Ju-won spun on her heel, face flushed with humiliation as she hurried away, avoiding the gazes of everyone around.

Afterwards Sunghoon led you toward a nearby fireplace with a small smile, gesturing for you to step in. Together, you went through the Floo Network, the swirling green flames transporting you both to a room that was both luxurious and filled with a sense of calm.

“Welcome to my room,” he said with a soft smile.

You looked around, taking in the warmth of the space. “I can’t believe Spark stayed with you all this time,” you said.

Sunghoon chuckled, “I could never let him go. He’s been a great companion. Right, Spark?”

Spark squeaked in response to that. “Would you like to meet some other nifflers, Spark?” You asked and watched as his eyes lit up, and he nodded excitedly. You laughed, reaching for your suitcase and opening it on the floor. Climbing down into it, you looked back up and beckoned to Sunghoon. “Come on in!”

Sunghoon hesitated for a moment, but curiosity won over, and he followed you. Inside, you led him through various sections of your enchanted suitcase, each with unique landscapes and ecosystems for the creatures you cared for. Sunghoon looked around, marveling at the sheer life around him.

Eventually, you reached the area where you kept your nifflers. With a quick call, five of them scampered out, their fur shining under the magical light. Spark chirped in excitement and darted forward, joining his new friends. You straightened up, watching with amusement as Lena, flitted out of your pocket and disappeared somewhere in the terrain.

You turned to Sunghoon, catching the awe in his expression. Smiling, you took his hand, guiding him through the different environments until you stopped by a stone ledge. With a short whistle, you called out, and the ground trembled slightly. Emerging from a large cave opening, Erebus, lowered his head, scales glistening with an otherworldly sheen as he rumbled softly in greeting.

Sunghoon took a small step back, looking at Erebus with a mix of fear and awe. You laughed softly, reaching for his hand again. “It’s okay,” you said gently. “He trusts me, and he’ll trust you, too.”

Sunghoon looked at you, searching your eyes before nodding. Slowly, you guided his hand forward, placing it against the warm, textured scales under Erebus’s jaw. The dragon rumbled again, leaning slightly into Sunghoon’s hand, a deep, pleased purr vibrating through him.

“See?” you whispered, smiling as Sunghoon’s gaze softened in amazement.

Sunghoon kept his hand steady, glancing between you and the massive dragon before him. Erebus leaned further into his touch, his dark eyes half-closing in contentment. Sunghoon exhaled a quiet laugh, a mixture of relief and wonder.

"I never imagined I'd be doing this," he murmured, glancing at you with a warm smile. "You've always had a way with creatures."

You grinned, feeling a swell of pride. "Erebus is special. I rescued him from a terrible situation, and ever since, we’ve had this bond." You gave Erebus a gentle pat before he pulled back, lifting his great head and retreating into the shadows of his sanctuary.

As Erebus disappeared, you turned to face Sunghoon fully. The awe hadn't left his expression. "I can see why you love this work," he said softly. "I missed seeing this side of you."

A warmth blossomed in your chest. "I missed having someone who understood," you replied, voice just above a whisper. "I always wanted to share this with you."

Sunghoon’s gaze softened, and without another word, he leaned in slowly, giving you time to close the remaining distance. The world seemed to fade as his lips met yours, gentle at first, then deepening as you both leaned into each other.

When you finally parted, both of you were breathless, but his forehead rested against yours, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“It’s you and me now, Sunghoon,” you whispered.

He nodded, his eyes sparkling as he took your hand. "Forever, if you’ll have me."

As you leaned up, pressing your lips against Sunghoon's, he responded with a passion that ignited a fire within you. His hand cupped your cheek, While his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, as if he couldn't get enough of your warmth and presence.

As the kiss lingered, Sunghoon's hands moved down to your thighs, his fingers tracing the soft skin. He lifted you up gently, his strong arms supporting your weight, and placed you on the table, your legs wrapping around his waist. Sunghoon's hands roamed over your body, his touch becoming more assertive, more confident. He traced the lines of your waist, his fingers grazing your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

When the kiss broke, you both were breathless, your hearts pounding in your chests. Sunghoon's hand gently caressed your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your lips. "I want you," he whispered, his voice hoarse with passion, his eyes filled with desire, caressing your legs, his touch gentle yet firm. His fingers traced the curves of your thighs, sending shivers down your spine.

His kisses became more intense, his lips moving from your neck to your collarbone, leaving a trail of passionate marks. His teeth grazed your skin, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with admiration and lust. "I can't get enough of you." He came up to kiss you again. His lips met yours in a gentle, tender kiss. "You make me feel alive, like no one else ever has," he whispered against your lips, his voice hoarse with passion. "I'll always protect and cherish you." He murmured.

And as the kiss deepened, the sweet, familiar melody of your clocks began to chime, the golden swirls dancing out of their glass coverings on the table where Spark sat proudly, watching the scene unfold. The soft notes filled the room, adding a layer of warmth to your embrace, and you both smiled slightly against each other’s lips.

Sunghoon’s hand brushed along your cheek, wiping away the happy tears that had formed there. He pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he breathed out softly. His eyes were filled with love, a love that glowed even brighter than the melody around you. Sunghoon looked down at you, his gaze filled with warmth. He took a steadying breath before murmuring, “Would you make me the happiest wizard in the world by becoming mine…forever?”

Your heart raced, and without hesitation, you beamed up at him, feeling a happiness you hadn’t known could exist. “Yes, Sunghoon,” you replied, voice filled with joy. “A million times, yes.”

His smile broke into a brilliant grin, and before you knew it, he was sweeping you off your feet. You laughed, the sound echoing through the room. “You make me so, so happy,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve never stopped loving you, not even for a moment.”

[gojoacedia]

Vi has severe attachment issues, meaning it took you a long time to break the walls surrounding her heart down to get to the point you are at with her now. And boy was it obvious how attached she was.

-She would get nervous if you left for even a few seconds. She would always go grocery shopping with you, workout with you (even though your workouts were half of what she did), sit on the counter while you did your makeup, and even sit on the floor of the bathroom if you were taking too long in the shower.

-If you managed to escape her arms in the middle of the night she would panic in her sleep and grab you back as fast as possible. You couldn’t be an inch away from her.

-She looks at you like you’re insane if you do anything nice for her. She could be standing behind you and kissing your neck the whole time you were cooking and still not realize you were making food for her. When you do serve her a plate she tells you to eat it. “You need to eat too! I can’t eat this if you don’t have anything!” She would complain. “Vi, honey, I have my own plate. I made enough for two.” You would reply, rolling your eyes at how she never considered you making two portions.

-Every day when you come home from work or school she greets you at the door like a dog who hasn’t seen their human for weeks. She would bury her face in your neck, smelling your hair like it was a drug. You would drop all of your bags (some of which had gifts for her) and hug her back. “What’s up with you today? I was gone for 30 more minutes and you're acting like it’s been years,” you laughed, grabbing her face in your hands and giving her a long kiss. She would just roll her eyes and tell you to shut up, never wanting to admit how much you affect her.

-When you have sex she will always force you to make eye contact. She didn’t want you thinking about anything other than the way she made you feel. If you ever threw your head back in pleasure she would immediately stop and grab your chin, forcing you to look back down at her. “Eyes on me, princess, or you don’t get to cum,” she would say. She couldn’t help herself from getting exponentially more wet when you whimpered in protest, following her orders anyway.

-After you came (and after she came if she was in the mood) she would carry you to the shower, giving you butterflies every time she picked you up like you weighed nothing. She would make you pee before you went in the shower so you didn’t get a yeast infection, knowing your body better than your other partners ever did.

-She had absolutely no shame when it came to the nastiest aspects of your life. She could never see you as anything other than a goddess. Even if you were sick and snotting your brains out into an entire box of tissues. Even if you were on your period, disgusted at whatever left your body that week. You could have pink eye and she would gently wash away all the eye crusts with a warm washcloth. Nothing could phase her when it came to you.

-You eventually needed to have a serious talk with her about how she treated you. She would burn the whole world down for you and then get mad if you traveled to her favorite restaurant in the underground to get take-out slugs. You needed her to know you were also allowed to be attached.

-Going off of that, if you ever needed to have a conversation about boundaries you had a rule that you had to say 5 nice things about her for every complaint. You knew she didn’t take criticism well due to her past, so you made her feel like royalty before trying to have any serious conversation with her. She noticed this, of course, and it only made her love you more. Her impatience mixed with your patience was a match made in heaven.

[luvlystarr]

·········♡········· Prompt: The moment the 141 guys realized they're in love with you. Content: Fluff! (This was all rushed so don't expect it to be the best lol) ························

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick - In all honesty, Kyle has probably been interested since the day you two met. But when he decided to bring you along to his cousin’s birthday party, that's when it fully clicked in his mind. At first he just thought it would be a good idea to get you introduced to his family, you were his close friend after all. It just so happened that his nieces and nephews were there and as soon as they met you they were instantly hooked. Kyle never knew you were so good with kids and just people in general. His nieces and nephews kept playing with you, while his other relatives genuinely enjoyed chatting with you. The exact moment he realized he loves you was when one of his nieces asked you, “Do you like Uncle Kyle?” To which you responded, “Yeah, he’s a very special person to me. I like him a lot.” Of course you had to say those words with that warm, kind smile of yours, it got Kyle melting on the spot. Unbeknownst to you, he heard every single word and has been absolutely lovestruck since then.

John 'Soap' MacTavish - It was quite an odd moment. The moment he knew was when you two were up late at night watching every single Harry Potter movie out there. At some point, about halfway through the third movie, you just started rambling about the characters and story of the whole franchise, even covering little details about the books. Johnny didn’t even know why or how his mind began to think that way, but he just found it so attractive. Even to this day he doesn’t understand why you geeking out about the Harry Potter franchise was so captivating. Maybe it was the way you looked so focused, or how the tv was illuminating your features perfectly, probably your angelic voice too. Either way, he can’t stop thinking about you and he uses every chance he gets to get you talking about any of your interests.   

John Price - He would probably never admit this but the moment he knew he’s in love was when the two of you were fighting. Both of you had a tiny disagreement on something but it ended up growing into a heated argument. For almost half an hour straight, you two just kept going back and forth, gradually raising each other’s voice and becoming more irritated. By the end it got so bad that you slammed your hands on the table and got snappy at John, yelling strings of insults at him. He should be just as angry, but no. In that moment he could’ve sworn his heart skipped a beat. How could he get mad if you looked so cute with your pouty lips, furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms? He mistakenly let out a small chuckle at your attempt to be intimidating but he was met with a slap on his face. At that moment he knew that the only reasonable explanation why he felt that way was because he was head over heels.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley - You were the first person he actually got close with. Sure, he has Johnny and he's an amazing friend, but the bond he had with you was unlike any other. The two of you found solace in one another and always had each other's back. The night he knew it was true love was when you drove all the way to his house after a terrible day. You were sobbing endlessly as you rambled on and on about how crappy your boss is as he intently listened, even rubbing your back while handing you a cup of tea. After comforting you, he insisted that you stay for the night. He let you wear one of his hoodies and even let you sleep in his bed. You were hesitant at first but quickly gave in with how insisting he is. He remembered watching you sleep peacefully, all huddled up beneath the blanket. He had to admit, you looked adorable wearing his hoodie with that calm look on your face. That's when it dawned on him just how much he loves you. ········································································

[lqveharrington]

Bus Stop | R.L.

summary: both you and remus miss the bus during a rain shower.

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

includes: fluff, strangers being cute, cursing

a/n: i seriously need to finish my coriolanus series help 😭

As a meteorologist for the local news media, you knew what the weather was going to look like everyday. In fact, plenty of people tuned in to hear the forecast just from you. It was something you enjoyed doing, you liked helping people out for the smallest things. You could predict whether or not the sun would be shining to the point where ice cream would melt in an instant, or if it would snow so hard that the roads were to icy to drive in.

It felt nice to be helpful and appreciated in a community you’ve learned to love.

But every once in a while, the computer system the station owned would make small mistakes. There would be times where it predicted hard rain, but instead ended in light rain with little to no clouds. Of course, it was something so rare that you always disregarded it and moved on.

Except for today.

You were standing underneath the thinnest awning as rain pellets fell harshly from the thundering sky. You missed the bus for the first time in years. It was stupidly coincidental that the day the computer system decided not to work was the day you missed the bus. It had shown that only light rain would be coming to your area.

Wrong.

So now you were trapped in a small space until a bus appeared or the rain let up, which was unlikely.

The wind blew harshly on your skin and made the rain splash everywhere. You were getting drenched by the minute and all you could do was wait. Your Mary Jane’s were completely ruined and your tote bag completely soaked, which incased your book and notepad. It was all destroyed.

A frown made its way to your face. You couldn’t even tell if tears were streaming down your face or if it was the rain as you felt your chest constrict. But even the universe had its limits and thought it was cruel to have you all alone in the storm. So it sent you one companion who happened to miss the bus as well.

A man ran over to where you were, his eyes wide in frustration and annoyance. You watched him run underneath the awning with his jacket over his head, which did little as he was completely soaked from head to toe.

He gave you a slight nod and looked out toward the obstructed street view, “How long have you been waiting?”

You blink in confusion before realizing he was talking to you. Heat covered your neck when he gave you an amused grin as he ran his fingers through his wet hair in attempts to squeeze the water out.

“Oh! Uhm, maybe a couple of minutes? Only two buses come down this way.” You look down to your shoes, the puddle underneath rising toward your ankle, although you feet were already drenched.

He sighed and leaned his head back on the brick wall behind, rubbing his palms in his eyes. “Fuck, okay.”

After a few seconds, an awkward silence took over despite the heavy rainfall. It wasn't like you intended for it to get awkward, but standing in a tight space with a man you never met really set off tension.

Yours eyes flickered from the rain puddles to the man beside you. Clearing your throat, you began to speak, but at the same time, the man spoke as well.

“How—“

“What—“ Your eyes widen and the previous heat creeped up to your cheeks. “Sorry, go ahead.”

“No, that’s quite alright. I was just trying to make small talk.” The man shrugged and sent you a small smile.

You grinned back and fiddled with the strap of your tote back. “So was I.”

Despite the attempt, another silence took over. This time, it was less awkward. The rain continued to pelt down and the sun began it's slow descent down when you decided to strike a conversation again.

“What made you late?”

He looked over toward you, his mind zoned out from the pattering of the rain. “Mm?”

“To the stop, I mean." You smile sheepishly and waved your hand around. "I got here just as the bus left, but you were minutes behind.”

“Ah,” He nodded and pushed his hair back again. “My car is at the mechanics and I wasn’t sure when the coaches come around. I guess I was a little off.”

“Just a little.” You pinch your finger together as a small laugh falls from your lips.

A comfortable silence took over this time. You had yet to know the man’s name, but you knew that he was alright to be around for the time being. Who knows if there were weird people out in the rain coming to get you.

The rain only grew harder, causing you and the mystery man to push closer in hopes of staying out of the harsh weather and not freeze to death. Well, more so than already.

“I feel like I’ve seen you before.” The man spoke and glanced at you to see an amused glint in your eyes.

“Yeah?”

He squinted his eyes before snapping his fingers in recognition. “You’re the meteorologist on channel 8.”

You laugh softly and place your hands on your hips, smiling like you would on television. “The one and only.”

“I didn’t think I would meet a celebrity waiting for the coach.” The man chuckled and ended with a content smile, shaking his head at the fact he did meet someone everyone loved.

“Where do you work?” You ask out of the blue, catching him off guard. “It’s only right, you know my place of work.”

He raised his brows like it was the most obvious thing. “You’re on the tele.”

“Same difference.”

You both stared at each other as if you were in a silent competition before you looked away, clearing your throat. Sensing your fraction of discomfort, the man answered your question.

“I work down at the bookstore on King’s street. It’s beside the café.” He gestured toward where he came from and smiled when your eyes lit up.

“Oh! My friend Lily works down there. I love that place, they have everything I ever need in life.” You grin at the mention of your favorite store downtown, but purse your lips when you remember what exactly you had in your tote. “But, one of the books is kind of destroyed in my bag.”

"You destroyed public property?"

"Not on purpose!" You defend yourself and put a hand up, the small smile on your lips showing your true emotion. "That's not funny."

"It was."

You roll your eyes in an amused manner and settle into a short silence. Time felt like it was going so fast yet so slow, and you weren’t exactly sure what that meant. Picking at your nails, you ask him another question he hopefully knew the answer to.

"Since you work with Lily, do you know a guy named Remus? She said he worked there with her, she wants me to meet him."

He raised a singular brow at you and tucked his hands under his arms as the wind blew harder. "I may or may not know. Why?"

"She said we would hit it off right away." You shrug and shiver, causing your body to instinctively pull closer to the man beside you for warmth. "And every time she wants me to go over to meet him, I'm really busy with work."

He hummed and looked down at you, meeting your eyes with pure joy and mischief. "I think that you would hit it off right away."

"You think so?" You murmur, glancing down at his lips for a split second before looking back up to his eyes in shock at your own action.

"Oh, definitely. You'll have the time of your life with his horrid humor." He chuckled as you huffed a breath out, the heat from your mouth shown in front of you.

"As bad as you laughing at me for accidently destroying a library book?"

"Precisely." The man nodded in agreement, pulling you further back into the stop as a car drove by without slowing down. "How long have you been a meteorologist?"

"Oh gosh," You bite your lip in thought and go back to your first time actually working as a meteorologist. "Maybe two years officially? I studied a lot in college for it and was given an internship with NASA back in the states for my last year."

His lips turned-down into a smile, not that surprised by the fact with how much you loved your job. "I'm impressed."

"Thank you." You tilt your head down and look down at the ever growing puddle, sighing at the sight. "Although, sometimes I wish I had chosen a job back in the states rather than come back here."

"Why is that?"

"The weather here is mostly the same all year round. There's nothing too interesting about it." You gesture toward the rain.

As you pointed out the harsh rain you would always report on, the bus lights finally appeared through the thick fog. You shut your eyes in thanks before holding tightly onto your tote. But before the bus got to your stop, you decided to speak once more. Maybe, just maybe, the mystery man was alright.

"I never got your name."

He turned his head to you and shrugged, his brown hair splashing you with water. "Technically, I didn't get yours either."

"Doesn't count, I'm on television." You quip as the bus comes to a stop, but the look on the man’s face caught you off guard. "What is it? Why are you smiling weirdly?"

"I'm Remus Lupin." He struck his hand out and kissed your knuckles. "And it was a pleasure to hit it off with you."

"You're joking." You gape at the mysterious man who you could now identify as the same Remus Lily was talking about. "You're incorrigible."

"And your coach is going to leave you behind soon." He tilted his head toward the flashing headlights of the bus.

You purse your lips and quickly get your body on the bus. You paid your bill and turned around to see him still standing at the stop. Furrowing your brows, you call out to him only to be interrupted.

“Will I expect to see you in the bookstore soon?” He cupped his hands around his mouth to enhance his voice over the heavy rainfall.

A small smile graced your lips as you responded. “Maybe!”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[fairy-spring]

I’ve read over this essay several times over the past few weeks. It wasn’t because of a profound realization or anything, but more because with each successive read I was squinting my eyes harder and harder as I sat there thinking, “None of these words are in the bible.” I also had to dig around and find your proper, published essay from 2017, as this post is simply an abbreviated version of that publication which is missing essential points of your argument and kinda muddied the whole read for me.

You had another post in 2020 dabbling on Midna and Ganondorf’s interactions which, uh… I also had to read through several times.

I'm going to be courteous and put everything I mean to say under a read more, both for the sake of anyone who happens upon this post and for you, in case you don't feel a want or need to even look.

I think I have to start with tackling the crux of this essay: the thought that Ganondorf is gradually humanized during the entire four-phase battle with him, that Ganondorf was written as ��an unquiet postcolonial ghost,” and that players are meant to experience, essentially, a hate crime.

“Throughout most of Twilight Princess, Ganondorf is characterized as a ruthless tribal warlord who attacked Hyrule because of his lust for power. As indicated by his monologues and gradual humanization over the course of the final battle, however, Ganondorf represents much more than simply an evil to be defeated. He is introduced to the player as a foolish man who became evil incarnate, and he does little more than scream in rage and pain when the player first sees him in a flashback. When he is allowed to speak for himself, however, he reveals himself to be highly intelligent with motivations that are not unsympathetic.” (The History of Light and Shadow)

While I do agree that Ganondorf may have motives rooted in the eradication of the Gerudo, the problem is that, in order to have this context, players must have played Ocarina of Time first.

Ocarina of Time really set in stone the animosity between the Gerudo and the other peoples of Hyrule, given how wearing the Gerudo mask evokes anything from townsfolk in Castle Town screaming in fear to Darunia straight up saying, “I hate the Gerudo!”

Without that context, however, any potential humanization in this aspect is lost, for lack of a better term.

I don’t know how else to explain that Wind Waker is masterful in its humanization of Ganondorf because it talks about Ocarina of Time. Ocarina of Time is the ghost haunting the narrative of Wind Waker. The game opens with a retelling of Ocarina of Time’s plot, Link is compared to the Hero of Time by elder deities such as the Deku Tree and Valoo, Daphnes constantly hammers in how Link was not chosen by the gods like OoT Link or even TP Link were, the boy has to hunt for the pieces of the Triforce of Courage that had shattered after the Hero of Time wound up in Termina, literally picking up the pieces the Hero of Time left behind! And when Link finally enters Hyrule Castle, what is there to greet him but the statue of the Hero of Time?

So, it makes perfect sense, then, that Ganondorf in Wind Waker would reflect on what led him up to this point. Of course he would think on his foiled plot, on the people he abandoned, the people who disappeared because of him. And of course, because he is so set in his ways and so stubbornly determined to fulfill his goal, Ganondorf wants not the Great Sea the goddesses left behind, but Hyrule. Because he’s always wanted Hyrule.

Perhaps more than any other game, The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker is the true sequel to The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time.

In contrast, in The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess, the events of Ocarina of Time didn’t happen. Any reference to Ocarina of Time is referred to as “ancient,” as if hushed whispers from a distant past. While Wind Waker hammers Ocarina of Time over the player’s head with its plot beats, character interactions, and imagery, Twilight Princess functions more as an echo of Ocarina of Time. The gameplay is similar and Link bears a striking resemblance to the Hero of Time, but the game itself is largely separated from Ocarina, with Ganondorf as the enigmatic specter behind the scenes, a literal ghost story uttered by the petrified spirits of a forgotten age.

Because of this quiet refusal to discuss Ocarina of Time, players aren’t allowed to understand Ganondorf. It is why he feels so weakly written compared to his Adult Timeline counterpart. People in Hyrule today know nothing of the Gerudo. Link’s map refers to Gerudo Desert as “The Great Desert.” It is a forbidden place, only accessible via cannon as the main pathways are blocked off. The desert itself is empty, deprived of life or civilization, with the only places of note being a Sky Puzzle and the Cave of Ordeals.

It is a subtle horror, yes. The thought of an entire people, an entire culture and way of life being wiped off the face of the earth, erased by a country that refuses to discuss ancient sins and would rather focus on the everyday or on borderline cryptids like the Oocca is a poignant one. As you’ve said, it mirrors post-imperialist movements to censor or downplay unsavory moments in history, from American textbooks attempting to downplay slavery to Japanese efforts to wipe away thoughts of Korean comfort women.

But you need Ocarina of Time to understand it.

If any player is just as clueless as Link and going through this journey for the first time, Ganondorf is portrayed exactly the way the game wants him to be: as a menacing, power-hungry, evil man who puts himself above the gods themselves, given his defacing the effigies of the goddesses when Midna confronts him in Hyrule Castle’s throne room.

Furthermore, Ganondorf’s acts throughout the final battle do little to humanize him. In his first monologue, he:

Degrades Midna and her people and refers to them and the Fused Shadow as inferior beings and “petty magic”

Dangles Princess Zelda over Midna and Link's heads like a trophy

Puts himself on the same level as the goddesses by wielding one of their pieces and defacing the Royal Family’s images of them

Upon being met with defiance from Midna, then possesses Zelda as a means to personally hurt Midna and force Link to confront Zelda

credit for the above gifs goes to @hyrulehistoria on tumblr

On this last bullet in particular, it’s certainly… interesting that you stated this regarding Puppet Zelda:

“Ganondorf later possesses Zelda as a means of forcing Link to sheath his sword before a real battle can commence, and this hostage strategy is awful. Nevertheless, the bluntness of this ultimatum should have been effective. When Link proves that he will not hesitate to kill even Zelda herself, only then is Ganondorf overcome with rage.” (03/27/2020)

Whereas in actual gameplay, Link is incapable of harming Zelda’s body. The entire fight against Puppet Zelda is comprised of Dead Man’s Volley, where you’re turning Ganon’s magic against him and stunning him; or, simply evading Puppet Zelda’s attacks as Ganondorf has her flying sword first at you. During this entire fight, Link is unable to strike Zelda’s body with the Master Sword, nor can he fire an arrow at her. This first phase isn’t about killing Zelda; rather, it’s about incapacitating Ganondorf.

credit for above gifs goes to @sacredflames on tumblr

Link clearly shows visible relief when Midna squishes Ganondorf out of Zelda, I don’t know how you missed that one.

credit to @fuckyeahlink on tumblr

In phase two, Ganondorf doesn’t utter a word, instead morphing into Beast Ganon in an effort to destroy Link. When that doesn’t work, he enshrouds Hyrule Castle in twilight, where Link and Zelda would be incapable of battling Ganondorf directly. Midna then teleports the two out of Hyrule Castle and dons the Fused Shadow, facing Ganondorf alone.

When next we see Ganondorf, he is on horseback, and he has a new trophy: Midna’s helmet.

Everything up to this point paints Ganondorf as the “ruthless tribal warlord” the sages characterize him as. I genuinely don’t know how you saw Ganondorf explicitly regarding the Twili’s greatest power so lowly that he destroys it and practically tramples it with his ghost riders, and then said this:

“When we next see Ganondorf, he is holding Midna’s crown, which crumbles to dust in his hand. We think he’s killed Midna, but of course he hasn’t. Ganondorf has spared Midna’s life and obliterated the cursed artifact that transformed her into an uncontrollable monstrosity. This incident marks the last time we see Midna in her imp form, which means that the spell on her has now been lifted.

“Ganondorf has suffered through war, genocide, and unimaginable physical pain, yet he does not kill Midna, who has openly attempted to kill him. He takes the formidable weapon Midna has been assembling throughout the game and, instead of using it, destroys it.” (03/27/2020)

(Sidenote: Where on earth did you gather that the Fused Shadow is uncontrollable? Midna was simply inexperienced with it the first time she used its full potential, which is why she collapses after breaking the barrier surrounding Hyrule Castle. She used the Fused Shadow to squeeze Ganondorf out of Zelda’s body like a lemon, and seemed to have a perfectly good handle on it when using it to face Ganondorf alone.)

((Double sidenote: The very last time we see Midna in her imp form is after Ganondorf’s death, where she is sitting in Hyrule Field with the Light Spirits. That’s the whole reason why Link runs to her. Because the Light Spirits revived her. And they lifted her curse. Look, they even look at the camera like, “Heeeeeey, we got your girl~”))

((Did… Did you forget that?))

Just before the final phase of the battle, Ganondorf unsheathes his own blade, regarding Link’s as “impressive looking… but nothing more,” and then makes a declaration to “blot out the light forever.”

With his final words, Ganondorf hisses out, “Do not think this ends here… The history of light and shadow will be written in blood!”

You have interpreted these final utterings as a warning to Link and Princess Zelda:

“At the end of Twilight Princess, broken and defeated, Ganondorf still finds the strength to warn Zelda and Link about how a cycle of hatred has created a history ‘written in blood.’” (03/27/2020)

However, I choose to read it more as a final “Fuck you,” much in the same way that Demise’s curse in Skyward Sword could be read. However, both readings are mere speculation, not fact. We may never know the “true” meaning of Ganondorf’s words, which I quite like.

Now, I fully agree with the sentiment that, symbolically, Ganondorf is the ghost of the old world returning to terrorize a postcolonial country. However, at least in my interpretation, Ganondorf is not humanized by the game’s narrative. Any potential depth that Ganondorf has must be inferred, as according to plain text, he is simply the most evilest villain ever and must be stopped no matter what.

Is it the tired, racist stereotype of the barbaric, war-mongering brown man seeking to destroy the good and pure fragile kingdom? Yes, it very much is. It is sadly a very easy way for Nintendo to shorthand why Ganondorf is so evil and terrible and must be purged from this good and blessed nation. That said, I firmly believe that Ganondorf is portrayed exactly the way Nintendo wanted him to be: as an egotistical, self-righteous, manipulative man, who believes himself untouchable and deserving of Hyrule because he, too, was chosen by the gods.

Is there a hypocrisy to criticizing Ganondorf for holding godlike aspirations, when the descendants of the Goddess Hylia have held dominion over Hyrule for countless generations? Yes, there is. I won’t deny that. However, we must remember that Twilight Princess was released before Skyward Sword came along and did that; so, within the context of this game, Hyrule was just ruled by a royal family, not a goddess-blessed-mandate-of-heaven one.

All that aside, there is something else I need to mention, too: Why Midna shattered the Mirror of Twilight.

You have stated multiple times that Ganondorf’s death was wrongful, and it is that hate-filled death that makes Midna realize Hyrule has no place for people like Ganondorf or herself, which is why she chooses to shatter the mirror. You’ve also stated that Midna saw Link kill Ganondorf?

“… Link kills him anyway, and the cruelty of this act convinces Midna that it’s impossible for her to remain in Hyrule as an ethnic minority.” (10/20/2024)

“… but it is significant that this occurs immediately after she has witnessed the fight between Link and Ganondorf.” (… Light and Shadow)

Which, uh…

Midna was dead during that. I know a lot of people didn’t play Twilight Princess, so I need to reiterate: Midna was dead during that. She didn’t see that.

Even if she did, Midna literally wanted him dead five minutes ago. She declared to his face, “I will risk everything to deny you!” Why would Ganondorf’s death suddenly influence her to do something so drastic, if she wasn’t already thinking of this throughout the second half of the game?

I suppose there is a cryptic aspect to Midna’s final interaction with Link and Princess Zelda, wherein she states: “Light and shadow can’t mix, as we all know.”

Did Midna believe she will never belong in Hyrule? Did she, as you state, realize that “there is no room for ‘monsters’ in Hyrule[?]”

To land on this sentiment, however, is to forget a very literal aspect of Midna’s existence in Hyrule: Until she was blessed with light, whether it be from Zelda’s aspect or from the Light Spirits themselves, Midna physically could not live in Hyrule. In the first half of the game, when she isn’t in the twilight, Midna will retreat into Link’s shadow.

It’s the only place where she is safe; otherwise, the light will harm her. This is most evident when Zant turns the Light Spirit, Lanayru, against Midna, and the poor imp is hit with a full blast of concentrated light.

Like, the light literally almost killed her. It stands to reason that the other Twili would more than likely react the exact same way.

I guess in that way, you are correct. Midna quite literally does not belong in Hyrule, nor do the Twili. The thought is a heartbreaking one; to say that, biologically, you are the other. That you will never have a place here because you are built differently.

Along that same vein, though…

There… is room for monsters in Hyrule. For me to really bring this point home, I need to talk about the bulblins.

Now, bulblins are kind of your main goon in Twilight Princess. We have bokoblins and keese and deku babas, for sure, but bulblins are… different. From the moment we’re introduced to them, they are organized and coordinated. While bokoblins are shown as more “primitive” with their use of large clubs, bulblins have an array of weapons, from clubs with big old rocks attached to them, to riding on massive boars called bulbos to attack you whether on horseback or on the ground, to arrows that are dipped in oil and set ablaze. They literally set an oil trap for Wolf Link on the Bridge of Hylia and tried to burn him and Midna to death! Like… that’s so cool. Bulblins are so fucking cool, we never see monsters quite this intelligent ever again.

And I haven’t even brought up King Bulblin yet. Throughout the game, the leader of the bulblins is portrayed not as yet another monster to be eradicated, as we have with Zant and Ganondorf, but instead as a rival for Link. He jousts the boy twice on the Bridge of Eldin and the Bridge of Hylia, respectively; he battles Link just outside of the Arbiter’s Grounds with a giant axe, just after Link cleared out an entire camp of bulblins.

Is there something worth noting about the player aka Link killing all these monsters if they’re intelligent and sapient like people? Well, wouldn’t you kill a band of human thieves in Skyrim if they slighted you? Kidnapped your friends and family? Slaughtered your livestock and hung their horns over their giant gate as a personal taunt?

It is only after besting King Bulblin for the final time, in Hyrule Castle’s courtyard, that the leader finally concedes defeat, proclaiming, “I only follow the strongest!” He recognizes Link as an equal, and he agrees to back off. In the end credits, King Bulblin and his guys are riding around on their big old bulbos, no longer terrorizing innocent people.

Now, we could argue all day about whether they’re only allowed in Hyrule because Link one-upped them and these guys now consider themselves subservient to him. Regardless, the end credits show that even Bulblins belong in Hyrule. They, too, have a place here.

And if we go by Zelda’s final plea to Midna, so do the Twili.

“Shadow and light are two sides of the same coin… One cannot exist without the other. I know now why the goddesses left the Mirror of Twilight in this world. They left it because it was their design that we should meet. Yes… That is what I believe.”

But the thing is, Midna already made up her mind. She made up her mind a long time ago.

But that’s not good enough for you. Is it?

“… Midna's reactions over the course of the story deserve far more attention than simply taking what she says at face value.” (10/21/2024)

And as a fun little bonus round, I need to just say little things concerning your argument of Hyrule’s “slow apocalypse.” In your essay, you refer to Hyrule’s “eroding ruins and decaying ghost towns,” such as the Hidden Village, or Snowpeak Ruins, or the random little stone area just outside of Castle Town that houses a Sky Puzzle, as environmental suggestions of Hyrule’s gradual downfall. But to insinuate that the erasure of the Gerudo or the slaughtering of Ganondorf are primary symptoms of this decline would be disingenuous.

“Without the dynamic diversity symbolized by Ganondorf and the Gerudo, Hyrule is now in economic and political decline, isolated from any contact with the world beyond its borders.” (A Legend of Regret…, p.52)

“The people of Hyrule are entering the twilight of their civilization under the rule of an ineffectual leader that has not allowed its people to be revitalized by change and diversity… The potential for energetic dynamism represented by Ganondorf has been violently denied in favor of cultural and ideological purity…” (A Legend of Regret…, p.56)

Cultural exchange is actively happening in Hyrule during the game. The only place you can argue is truly “culturally pure” is Hyrule Castle Town itself, with people from all reaches of Hyrule integrating themselves into this “pure” culture one way or another. Everywhere else, however?

Renado, the leader of Kakariko Village, is outright stated to be proficient in treating both Gorons and Zora. Gorons are not only allowed to sell their hot spring water to residents in Castle Town, but are actually permitted to enter Hyrule Castle itself to sell their wares. Or, at least they were before the Twilight Invasion began. Malo’s business practices more than likely reflect Sera’s, given his upbringing in Ordon, and he then brings that frugal model into Castle Town, where the people rejoice.

credit to @roaxes on tumblr

Gorons taught Mayor Bo how to sumo, and in turn, Bo teaches Link. Even the yeti, Yeto, teaches Link how to snowboard to get to Snowpeak Ruins! You can then race him and his wife afterwards! The passing down of culture is at play in real time in this game!

I’d hardly say that Hyrule is in a state of decline. If anything, given such innovations as high-quality pictographs in places like Hena’s Fishing Hole, fully electric lighting in Castle Town’s Malo Mart, and advanced weaponry like Auru’s bazooka—as well as Hyrule’s apparent religious enlightenment, given that this is the most secular that we have ever seen the country—I’d argue that Twilight Princess’s Hyrule is actually on the cusp of an industrial revolution.

But those are just my own thoughts.

Also, ruins and ghost towns exist all over the real world. Roanoke Island, Nara Dreamland, Imber… There are countless examples. Sometimes a disaster befalls a town, and it’s easier to relocate than to start over where you were. Sometimes you can’t maintain a house and it gets abandoned. Sometimes an area is reclaimed by the government or the military. Sometimes a town dies out because its lifeblood runs dry, forcing residents to relocate elsewhere. Given the massive disparity between the rich and the poor in this game, this feels the more likely scenario.

Does that mean the real world is on the decline, too? I suppose that depends on who you ask.

And finally, as you’ve stated before, Link is what the game and the player dictate he be. You’ve tried stating in your essay that “if the gameplay demand that Link must defeat enemies in order to advance,” or that he “ransack ancient temples to progress,” then he is a killer and a “marauder.” (A Legend of Regret…, p. 54) However, that is to ignore the story once again.

The only temples Link arguably “ransacks” are the Arbiter’s Grounds, and the Temple of Time. Link is given permission to enter the Forest Temple, the Goron Mines, Lakebed Temple, Snowpeak Ruins, and the Twilight Realm. Link was even, debatably, given permission to uncover everything in the Temple of Time, as the ancient sages had instructed him to go there. The Arbiter’s Grounds is the dodgiest one to discuss, because nobody should be there. It’s a necessary evil, but to accuse Link of further desecrating a place Hyrule and Zant have already stained would be a hard pill to swallow.

And then we have the big one: The killing of Ganondorf.

Why was Link so cruel? Why wasn’t there a way to stop Ganondorf peacefully? Why couldn’t Link and Zelda just talk to Ganondorf, after he “[refrained] from taking control of the kingdom through conquest and murder, even though doing so would have been well within his abilities[?]” (03/27/2020)

I think we’re ignoring the fact that Ganondorf acted through Zant and killed countless Twili to achieve his goals. We see soldiers in Hyrule Castle, but how many more were there before the Twilight Invasion began? How many people died in Kakariko Village? What would have become of Ordon Village, or their children, had Link not awoken as the chosen hero? What would have become of the Twilight Realm, had Ganondorf not been content with only Hyrule?

If one man believes himself a god, and he is threatening the lives and wellbeing of not one realm, but two, then what choice does a boy chosen by the gods, by royals, by the people, have? Is it truly so monstrous? Do the ends justify the means? Is it cruelty? Salvation?

I don’t know. And neither do they.

Now, why did I bother writing this whole thing? What was the point?

Quite simply, since your first publication iterating these thoughts was back in 2017, and your most recent post in 2024 proclaims that Link is a murderer, it means that your interpretation of The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess is one that you’ve held for at least seven years, if not even longer. There’s nothing wrong with interpretation. The problem, however, is that you portray your take as “the correct one,” or the “big brained, deep one,” given how the thoughts you bring up in this first essay have been repeated by you again and again, whether it be the aforementioned “Link killing Ganondorf was an act of cruelty,” or “Why did Midna really shatter the Mirror of Twilight?”

And… The game already answered those questions. The game has already refuted your claims. You’ve just been ignoring it, and you’ve been encouraging everyone else to do the same.

And I don’t think that’s how you’re supposed to start a conversation about it.

TLDR: Uhhhhh please don't misconstrue what was in the game in order to make your argument because that's Not Cool, and I invite everyone to please play or watch a playthrough of The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess in order to form your own educated opinion!

Basically ummmm please reread the book before writing your book report.

And here are all my referenced sources so nobody thinks I'm pulling this out of my ass:

A Legend of Regret: Fallen Kingdoms and Postcolonial Ghosts in Twilight Princess

Tumblr Post Dated 03/27/2020

Tumblr Post Dated 10/20/2024

Tumblr Post Dated 10/21/2024

The History of Light and Shadow

At the end of Twilight Princess, Ganondorf delivers one of his most memorable lines, “The history of light and shadow will be written in blood.” He is not wrong. As the player has witnessed over the course of Link’s adventure, Hyrule is haunted by ruins and ghost towns, a mere shadow of what it once was. The landscape is filled with numerous sites of past violence and empty spaces visibly marked by decay and wasted potential.

When Zelda tells Link and Midna that “these dark times are the result of our deeds,” she is referring to specific historical acts of imperialistic aggression. Hyrule established hegemony over its outlying territories by crushing the rebellions against its advances, but the kingdom has suffered from cultural stagnation as a result. Without the dynamic diversity symbolized by Ganondorf, Hyrule finds itself in economic and political decline, isolated from any contact with the world beyond its shrinking borders.

As a representative of a marginalized group of people who have been attacked and driven from their homes, Ganondorf is a tangible manifestation of the horrors of imperialism. He must be defeated, but doing so does not address the underlying problems that have resulted in Hyrule’s decline. I therefore want to argue that Twilight Princess uses Ganondorf to deliver a subtle yet poignant protest against the discourses of empire reflected by the dualistic “light and shadow” rhetoric of heroism that has resulted in tragedy and regret.

Keep reading

[passengerprincessblog]

“Breaking Point” ~ Pt 4 Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warning: SMUT, NSFW, angst, arguments, sleepy oral? Idk.

Summary: When Lewis shows up unannounced at Y/N’s filming location and follows her back to her LA home, unresolved tensions boil over, sparking an intense argument that exposes the growing rift between them. As they clash over misunderstandings and unspoken resentments, Y/N struggles to hold her ground, refusing to melt under Lewis’s charm, even as he tries to bridge the distance in his own stubborn, unrelenting way.

The silence in the car is suffocating, thick with all the words left unsaid between us. We’re heading back to my house in LA, and the tension stretches like an invisible line, taut and fraying. Every time I glance his way, I catch Lewis staring, his gaze heavy, filled with something that feels like disappointment or maybe just frustration.

It’s strange having him here, in my city, in my space. He’s never part of this life—my world where I’m more than his girlfriend, more than a footnote in his racing saga. Today, he got a glimpse of me with my crew, laughing, bantering, a side of myself he barely knows. A side that doesn’t revolve around him. And maybe that’s why this hurts so much. He’s so supportive of everything about me… except this. My career. The one thing that pulls me away from him.

I feel his hand settle on my thigh, his fingers warm against my skin. Instinctively, irritation flares up. I want to shove him off, to shake his hand away, but I don’t. I know it’ll only set him off, and I’m too tired for another argument. Instead, I focus on the passing streets, letting the city lights blur together, pretending not to notice his fingers tracing idle circles. He reaches over, grabbing my hand, playing with the rings on my fingers like I’m his personal stress toy. The sensation is grounding, sure, but also infuriating. Does he even realize how invasive this feels? How much he takes from me without even realizing it?

When we finally arrive at my house, I pull away the second the car stops, sliding out and thanking James, my driver, with a quick “Goodnight.” Lewis lingers, watching me with that unreadable gaze, like he’s studying me. I feel exposed, as if I’m a stranger he’s trying to understand, trying to fit into some mold that doesn’t really exist. It’s clear he’s not used to seeing me here, in LA, in the life that belongs to me.

I walk up the steps to my front door, feeling his presence right behind me. My house is beautiful—sprawling, a mix of modern LA glamour and Spanish-style architecture, spacious and luxurious. It’s mine, yet not entirely mine. After all, it’s Lewis who pays for it. I hadn’t wanted his money in the beginning, fought him on it, but he insisted, saying that rejecting his help felt like rejecting him. So here I am, living in this house he gifted me, a reminder of his presence even when he’s not here.

I unlock the door and step inside, throwing my keys on the table in the foyer. The house is decorated to my taste—soft hues, eclectic art pieces, warm textures that make it feel like home, my sanctuary. I walk into the living room, hearing his footsteps close behind me. He glances around, taking in the space, a look of faint surprise on his face.

“Wow… did you change it?” he asks, looking genuinely intrigued.

I shrug, not bothering to hide my irritation. “Not really… well, kind of.” I don’t give him much more. He hasn’t been here in nearly a year. Of course he wouldn’t remember.

He huffs, following me up the stairs, his footsteps deliberate, like he’s pushing through the tension hanging between us. I can feel the irritation rolling off him, the way he’s holding himself back, and it makes me want to push even harder.

“Are you gonna be like this all night? Y/N?” he says, his tone laced with barely restrained frustration.

I reach the top of the stairs and turn to face him, crossing my arms. “Yes.”

His jaw clenches, and he lets out a frustrated sigh. “Why can’t you have a normal conversation with me? Why is that so hard?”

I roll my eyes, throwing my hands up. “It’s not a ‘normal’ conversation, Lewis.” I can’t hold back anymore. “I can’t believe you just showed up like that,” I blurt out, the annoyance bubbling over.

His eyes narrow as I open the door to my bedroom, stepping into the softly lit space. My room is intimate, filled with small decorations and touches that feel so personal, so me. It’s like a slap in the face to him, a reminder that he doesn’t see my life like this enough, that he doesn’t really know this part of me.

“Because I love you? Because I wanted to surprise you? And support you?” he scoffs, almost as if my irritation is absurd.

I throw my bag at the end of my bed, barely glancing at him. “Okay… well, thanks. You can go now… I’m so surprised and supported. Mission accomplished.” My tone is dripping with sarcasm. “You can go back to your life.”

He stares at me, his eyes flashing with anger, a dangerous edge simmering beneath the surface. “Don’t talk to me like that. I’m trying.”

“Cool. I’m so impressed… you’re so impressive. Mr. champion, millionaire, stupid playboy. Is that what you want? Me to praise you for your attempt? You’re so fucking amazing, Lewis!” My voice rises, my irritation finally spilling out in sharp, pointed words.

He takes a step toward me, his gaze dark and intense. “You’re really pushing it. You know what I mean… I’m trying to make you feel loved. What’s wrong with you?”

“You’re what’s wrong.” I snap back, feeling the weight of my resentment boiling over. “Just leave now. I know you’re gonna leave in the morning anyway… with your stupid race on Sunday.”

He sighs, exasperated but unwilling to give up. “I don’t have to leave until Wednesday night,” he says, his tone hardening as he steps closer. “I’m staying.”

I roll my eyes, brushing past him into my bathroom. “No. Just leave.”

He follows me, his voice low and demanding as he steps into the room behind me. “I said…” he grabs my arm, pulling me toward him, his hand firm on my chin as he tilts my face to look at him. “I’m staying.”

My stomach flips, a mix of nerves and something else swirling inside me as I meet his intense gaze. His eyes are smoldering, his jaw tight, and I can feel the determination radiating off him, daring me to challenge him.

“Fine,” I say, my voice barely more than a whisper, trying to sound annoyed.

He lets go of my face, his thumb brushing over my cheek in a gentle, almost tender gesture that makes my heart ache. I can tell he wants more, that he’s craving some kind of reassurance, something from me, but I can’t bring myself to give in. Not yet.

He starts to step back, but I turn to the mirror, trying to compose myself, pretending his presence doesn’t affect me as much as it does. But he doesn’t move far; instead, he leans against the counter, his gaze fixed on me.

“Give me a kiss,” he says softly, his tone almost pleading.

I glare at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“Give me a kiss…” he repeats, his voice coaxing, insistent.

I continue to glare, refusing to budge, letting the silence stretch.

“Y/N…” he murmurs, his tone dipping, a hint of something darker beneath it. “I’ll be getting a lot more than a kiss when we get to bed, so you better just give me one now.”

I furrow my brow, stubbornly refusing to indulge him. “You’re not forgiven. You don’t get a kiss… and you don’t get to stay in my room.”

He groans, rubbing his eyebrows in frustration. “Oh my god. You’re such a brat. Why are you like this? I’m trying to fix things.”

“They aren’t fixed. Leave me alone,” I mutter, turning back to the mirror, focusing on brushing my hair, anything to avoid the pull of his gaze.

He steps closer, his expression softening, and he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek. “I love you, baby girl. Please… stop being like this.”

I narrow my eyes, knowing exactly what he’s doing. He’s trying to be all soft and sweet, pulling at my heartstrings, hoping I’ll melt and give in. But it’s not going to work. Not this time.

“Goodnight. The guest bedroom is perfect for you,” I say, flashing him a sarcastic smile.

He glares at me, his expression hardening in irritation. With a heavy sigh, he finally turns and leaves, the sound of his footsteps echoing down the hall, leaving me alone with the hollow ache that always seems to linger when he’s gone.

It’s late—sometime in the early hours, I’m sure—and I’ve barely settled into sleep when the faint sound of my bedroom door clicking shut pulls me out of my dreams. I stay still, eyes closed, hoping it’s just my imagination. But then I feel the bed shift, the mattress sinking slightly as a familiar warmth slips in beside me.

A heavy arm drapes over my waist, and I instinctively make a soft, annoyed sound, shifting away, but he just tightens his grip, pulling me back. His presence is warm, enveloping, and for a moment, I consider giving in, letting his touch soothe the tension between us. But I can’t quite shake my irritation, even through the haze of sleep.

“Baby… baby girl… shh…” His voice is soft, a gentle murmur as he leans in, pressing feather-light kisses along my neck and cheek. Each kiss is an apology, a quiet plea, and I can feel his regret seeping into each touch.

I hum in response, somewhere between annoyance and surrender, too drowsy to put up much of a fight. His hand slips under my shirt, his fingers gliding over my skin in slow, soothing circles, as if he’s trying to coax the tension out of me, to ease the edges of my frustration.

“I’m so sorry, baby girl…” he whispers, his breath warm against my skin. “I love you so much… please don’t be mad at me.”

The sincerity in his voice tugs at something deep within me, a part of me that’s been holding onto my anger, but now feels it starting to crumble. I want to hold onto it, to let him know how much he’s hurt me, but his gentle touch, the warmth of his apology, makes it hard to keep the walls up.

I sigh, barely able to form a coherent response, the words slipping out in a quiet murmur. “Lewis…”

His fingers trail lower, caressing the curve of my hip before slipping beneath the waistband of my panties. I squirm at the intimate touch, a shiver running through me despite my lingering irritation. His hand settles between my thighs, and I can't help but part them slightly, allowing him access.

"Let me make it up to you, baby girl," he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. "Let me show you how much I love you."

I'm too sleepy to protest, the warmth of his touch lulling me back towards unconsciousness. My body responds to him, a soft moan escaping my lips as his fingers begin to move, stroking me gently, coaxing me towards arousal.

"That's it, baby," he whispers encouragingly. "Just relax for me. Let me take care of you."

His words wash over me, soothing and seductive, and I feel myself melting into his touch. My hips begin to move of their own accord, squirming against his hand as he works me closer and closer to the edge.

I'm lost in a haze of pleasure, the earlier argument fading away as his skillful fingers bring me to the brink of climax. Just as I'm about to fall over the edge, he withdraws his hand, leaving me frustrated and wanting more.

"Lewis..." I whine, my voice thick with need.

He chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest as he shifts position. "Not yet, baby girl. I'm not done apologizing."

With that, he moves down the bed, settling between my legs. I feel his breath ghosting over my sensitive flesh, and I can't suppress the moan that escapes my lips. He looks up at me, his eyes dark with desire, before he leans in, his tongue sliding over me in one long, slow lick.

I gasp, my fingers tangling in his hair as he begins to work me with his mouth, his tongue delving deep, stroking me in all the right places.

He continues his ministrations, his tongue swirling around my clit, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through my body. I can feel myself getting wetter.

"Fuck, Lewis," I moan, my hips squirming against his face. "Don't stop."

He obliges, doubling down on his efforts, his tongue delving deeper, his lips sucking harder. My fingers tighten in his hair, holding him in place as I grind against his mouth, chasing my release.

"You taste so fucking good, baby girl," he groans, the vibrations of his voice sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. "I could eat this pretty little pussy all night."

His words are filthy, but they only serve to turn me on more, spurring me towards my impending climax. I can feel it building, a coil of tension in my lower belly, winding tighter and tighter with each flick of his tongue.

"Lewis, I'm gonna... I'm gonna," I pant, my body tensing, my thighs quivering around his head.

He doesn't relent, his mouth working me feverishly, his tongue flicking rapidly over my clit, pushing me over the edge. I come with a cry, my back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crash over me.

He laps it me up eagerly, prolonging my orgasm until I'm a trembling, boneless mess beneath him. Only then does he pull away, crawling back up my body to claim my lips in a deep, passionate kiss, sharing the taste of my own arousal with me.

"I love you, baby girl," he murmurs against my lips, his eyes shining with adoration.

I whimper slightly, the fleeing still lingers. I look at him as I become fully awake. Is he serious? Only Lewis would try this…

“‘Mmm…” I hum in response, not giving him the satisfaction of saying it back. He’s not forgiven, not matter how good he makes me feel.

His eyebrows furrow at me as he looks down at me. He sighs heavily, looking and sounding annoyed. He lays down next to me, cuddling close. I close my eyes… I’ll let him stay the here.

————————————-

Thank you for the appreciation on my posts!

Please like and follow if you like my work!

Let me know what you think should happen next?!

[saltymarshmall0w]

Another Dp x DC prompt inspired by a Danny Phantom episode.

Identity Crisis- The episode where Danny flies through one of his parent's inventions (A dream catcher, but let's all replace that little detail with a net or a strainer) and separates into Phantom and Fenton. Fenton is glad to give up being a hero and be lazy with his friends while Phantom turns into the embodiment of a heroic archetype.

----

There was an empty, gaping chasm in him nestled somewhere between his spotty memory and the apathy that constantly settled over his brain like a weighted blanket. 

He could see it in the way it felt like something was missing when he looked in the mirror.

In the way Danny enjoyed things but couldn’t list what exactly he liked. 

His parents knew it too. His dad didn’t look him in the eye anymore, and his mom always made a disappointed “tsk” noise when they tested his blood to “check if his levels were going down yet” then questioned if he was using the decontamination soap. He did, even if it made his hands burn and left Danny feeling lethargic after every shower.

They moved to Gotham of all places overnight, before Danny could so much as say goodbye to his friends. 

(He knew it was weird. He didn’t even remember packing his stuff—but he didn’t have to do the work so, whatever) 

They locked him in the house all day as if he would go out on the streets and fight crime while they weren’t looking or something. They were being controlling freaks!

(He should probably run away. It was obvious, even to him, that he was being abused… but that sounded like a lot of effort and not all that fun, so he’d rather just stay in his comfy bed and watch tiktok. He could ignore the sounds coming from the basement until he was 18.) 

Uncle Vlad would occasionally stop by to say thinly veiled threats and act all weird– once or twice asking about “Phantom” or a “core” whatever that meant. It was easier to just let Vlad send him to a rich-people school and drag him to a couple galas. At least he was actually getting out of the house. 

Whatever was going on with Danny was probably something he should be concerned about. He should go to a doctor, or the police, or his obviously-a-vigilante classmate for help rather than attempting to create half-thought out inventions to solve a problem he couldn’t even describe that he inevitably would forget about in favor of watching tiktok. 

According to google, the headaches, the tiredness, the dry skin, the disorientation- it all pointed toward dehydration. So, he was just overreacted anyway and should probably just drink more water. 

Whatever, Doomed came out with a mobile version for phones so, he’s way more interested in that anyway.

-

Basically, Human!Danny does not remember anything to do with Phantom and he’s missing a lot of his key components. 

lots of procrastinating, lots of apathy and emotions are extremely dull. 

He doesn’t realize how much he misses his friends or his obsessions unless they’re directly in front of him. 

I think it would be a fun writing exercise, questioning how Danny would act without Phantom based on the events in Identity Crisis. 

-Emotional incompetence. (He’s awful at identifying how he feels about things)

-Shameless Dopamine-seeking behavior. 

-Doing things without thinking of the consequences.

-A completely gray moral compass

-

Meanwhile, with Phantom—There are different levels of messed up we could take this. 

After Jack and Maddie separated Phantom from Fenton, they tried their best to get their son (who, thankfully, doesn’t remember being possessed for nearly a year) to decontaminate fully by moving to Gotham, while keeping their subject in the lab so they could keep running tests on it. 

Unfortunately, the ectoplasm levels in Danny’s blood aren’t going down, despite weekly tests. 

Last night, Danny had a nightmare where his parents cut him open.

It was only a nightmare, of course. His parents were inventors. They specialized in making every-day objects into the shape of his dad’s face; they didn’t work in biology.

Still, the phantom pain of his mom snapping his ribcage open was too realistic, and he still didn’t have an explanation for the surgical scars he kept finding on his body. 

OR

Jack and Maddie separated Phantom and Fenton and decided it was time they gave up ghost hunting for the safety of their son. So, they sold the ghost to the GIW and used the funds to move to Gotham, the city with the least amount of ambient ectoplasm in hopes to fully decontaminate their son. 

Phantom is in the hands of the GIW until Fenton comes across him (probably due to Bat-related shenanigans) and instantly goes “Oh, shit. That’s my soul. I kinda need that back.” 

-I’d be kinda funny if at this point the bats all know Danny as an extremely relaxed civilian who’s smart and figured out all their identities, yes, but also has zero interest in vigilantism.

-They’re going to get the “soul” thing Danny was freaking out about back Asap but they need to do a bit of reconnaissance first and–

- Oh—

-Danny’s mission-impossible-ing his way into the highly secure government base. 

-and he’s, like, GOOD at it. WTF

OR

Phantom, separated from his human half, turns into Little Baby Man. And just tries his darndest as a tiny little cat-possum-snake thing to find his human half… and protect everyone he sees… and collect shiny things. Okay! It’s not his fault he keeps getting distracted!

Until!! He found his human!! Well, it wasn’t actually his human, but Phantom could tell his human had been around this human. Besides, he sure did like this human. And the human said he was cute. Which actually made him explode with happiness!! 

(The Waynes adopt little Baby Man, thinking he’s just a really weird alien cat) 

-

So, now for the DC part of this I’m gonna throw some ideas out there for some interactions and you can decide if you like ‘em or not. I basically just really liked the idea of Danny finding out his classmate’s/friend’s secret identity and just… being completely apathetic to it. 

I really flip flopped on his Designated Gotham Bf being either Tim or Damian, bc i think both would have a really interesting dynamic with a really apathetic yet insanely smart Danny, especially if you throw in Damian adopting LBM Phantom. 

You, (yes, You! The reader!) can take this as whatever Wayne child you chose and I’ll just refer to them as Robin from now on. 

Each of these separated bits are just a different new way I thought an identity reveal would happen, none of them are connected. 

-

*Danny, standing way too close to an active rouge attack, watching Robin and Batman fighting*: You know… that guy throwing around the stylized R’s around looks kinda like that cute guy from physics. 

Goon, currently trying to take Danny hostage: Yeah, whatever kid. 

-

Robin: Hey, so, I know the school is under attack right now, but I really need something from my locker so–

Danny *The new kid who so far has only slept in class*: Dude, I know you’re Robin. It’s, like, really obvious. Just go, I’ll cover for you. 

-

(while Fenton would not be inclined to help in a rouge attack, he still has the overconfidence of a super-powered being and some of the instincts that were ingrained into him after hundreds of fights)

Robin: Hey, Kid-I-don’t-know! This is an active gunfight! You should run!

Danny: Don’t worry Robin, there are no civilians around! I have time to wait around so when you’re done kicking ass we can get back to our group project. *thumbs up* 

-

Robin: B, this is my friend, Danny. Please be nice to him. 

Danny: Hey Batman. Rad. 

Bruce: Hrm

Robin: *spluttering* Pfft- Bruce- Bruce isn’t Batman! Haha! What makes you think that?

Danny:

Danny: Wait– We’re friends? 

-

Robin *very angsty moment*: Danny, I’m sorry. I only befriended you because I thought your parents were shady and wanted to investigate. The truth is… I’m Robin. 

Danny *This is a total shock to him. He had no idea. He should probably react appropriately*: If I had a nickel for every time I dated a vigilante’s civilian identity I would have two nickels, which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice, right? 

Robin: Are you seriously quoting Phineas and Ferb right now??

Robin: Wait– which vigilante have you dated before?

Robin: Danny? You can’t just leave me hanging, Danny. 

Robin: Was it superboy? Because- Danny! I’m way cooler than superboy

—

Alternatively, consider the shift in dynamics when Danny is back “complete” and can finally feel regular emotions again. 

Like shame, for example.

Robin: Hey :) 

Danny: *Remembers anything he did as LBM  and calmly moves to the floor so he can curl up and die of embarrassment* 

Robin: ??? Are you okay? 

-

Robin *bats his pretty eyes*: So? You and Phantom are finally back together again. How do you feel?

Danny *hasn’t noticed his Paulina-level attraction or Sam-level crush on Robin before*: Bisexual. 

-

Misc:

Phantom: *growling at a mirror and repeatedly trying to attack it*

Robin: Yeah, we don’t really know what it is, but it’s cute. 

Robin: This is weird, He doesn’t usually warm up to people so quickly. Usually he’s really protective. 

Danny *completely calmly*: Oh, yeah. That's probably because it’s my soul. 

-

Bruce: Listen, I know you like my son-

Danny: Woah, hold on. Yeah, Robin is pretty great. Dopamine goes brrr around him, but I don’t have a crush on him or anything. 

Bruce: *gestures to Robin on the other side of the room, where Phantom is repeatedly giving Robin butterfly kisses and nuzzling into him*

Danny: ooh. 

--

Anyway! if you're at all inspired by this and write something the only requirement is that you have to tell me so I can read it too :) otherwise, go crazy!

[mind-intheclouds342]

A new ladder - Reader x Curly

Previous - Part 3 - Next

"What would you like to do today?"

You leaned against the back of the sofa to look at Curly, who was attentively watching the news.

Curly: "Is there something we can do?"

"We could do something like physical therapy... is that what it's called? So that you can use those prosthetics, wouldn't you like to be able to walk again?"

Curly: "You look enthusiastic."

"I'm bored"

You let out a sigh of pure sincerity as you lay down on the sofa, head bowed, barely four days into being with him and hardly ever leaving the house.

Curly: "We can chat."

"Seriously, don't you want to do something?"

Curly: "Of course, but... I don't want to bother you, you're already doing too much."

"You could ask me to tap dance on the table and I would do it just to laugh at something."

You raised your head and stared at him, waiting for some kind of response.

Curly: "What do you want to do?"

"Have you ever ridden a horse?"

Curly: "....No?"

Before he could realize it, you had already made the trip in your car to take him to a field outside the city.

There you had met with a friend of yours, who welcomed you warmly and guided you to an area where there were several horses.

Curly was able to see how your friend helped you get on one of the horses, you had a huge smile, and then he helped him get on with you, ending up in front of you.

Immediately, you put your hands around his waist to hold him close to you, while the horse began to gallop slowly around the meadow.

Behind him again, I could hear your little laughs, this time more relaxed, just a sound of the pleasant moment you were having.

Curly was observing his surroundings, feeling the movement of the animal. The place was beautiful, the trees, the bushes, the flowers, the sky, the clouds, for a moment he had forgotten how incredible the world was, feeling a lot of tranquility.

You spent at least half an hour riding and walking around that field, and at one point you almost fell off the horse because there was a little colt that wanted to bother the one you were riding, until its mother arrived and scolded it.

When you returned to the car, after thanking your friend for the experience, Curly felt that the day had ended and they were going back to monotony.

But he realized that the path you took was not the same one to return home.

You drove up a small hill and parked where the car wouldn't cause too much trouble.

"Do you want to climb?"

Curly: "Do you think I can-?"

He couldn't finish the sentence because you had surrounded him with your arms, forcing him to get out of the car. The prosthetics on his legs barely kept him standing, and he leaned against your body to avoid falling.

You closed the car door with your foot and waited patiently for the man to stand up.

Your arms were still around him, preventing him from falling completely. He tried to hold onto you as he straightened up, finally standing, swaying and looking at your face.

Curly: "Don't do this to me..." He sighed, lowering his head.

"Am I hurting you?"

Curly: "Emotionally"

You felt how he rested his forehead on your shoulder, standing there without moving, with your hands clasped together, forming a ring around his waist.

Curly: "I can't... I don't deserve it... All this... The surgeries... The attention... The prosthetics... I don't deserve to stand up again or take a step forward myself-"

You let go of him at that moment, causing him to fall to the ground, sitting and looking at you confused.

You crouched down to his level to closely examine his face.

"It's going to relax you to walk a bit, let's go again."

You said to him with a smile and helped him stand up again, this time putting his prosthetic arm over your shoulders and keeping your arm around his waist.

He felt strange being accompanied in that way, it made him feel so vulnerable, reminding him of the fragile condition he was in.

You didn't stop holding onto him for a second while you took short and slow steps, being as careful as possible.

It was just a few meters to reach the top where there was a beautiful meadow, but it took you several minutes to get there due to the pace you were going.

You made Curly sit among the grass and tall flowers of that place, soon you sat down beside him, reclining there immediately.

He kept looking at you, how you just lay there with a smile on your lips, your eyes closed, and breathing deeply.

Slowly, he lay down beside you, observing the sky; the clouds in that place looked different from those in the city, it seemed that by raising your hands you could touch them.

Curly: "Why did you bring me here?"

"A place so beautiful must be shared, so more can appreciate it."

Curly: "...Why are you doing this? You should just give me my medicine, you could leave me locked up at home if you wanted, and go out on your own."

"You think too much. Just relax"

You placed your hand on his chest to give him a couple of pats and then put your hands behind your head, enjoying the sun on your skin.

The warmth of the afternoon sun, which would soon set, was pleasant on his wounded skin. Despite having received a graft, his skin remained too sensitive, but those gentle rays of sunlight provided a pleasant warmth.

He decided to listen to you and relax; maybe that was what he needed.

[moosesarecute]

Day 5: No need for poetry

@azrielappreciationweek

Masterlist

Azriel had the biggest crush he had ever had. He couldn’t stop thinking about you. Imagining your life together and having so many date ideas he wanted to ask you out on.

The only problem is, you didn’t know him.

He really didn’t know you either, but for weeks the only thing he could think of was you.

How happy you looked working at your bookshop. How your smile made all the bad things in the world disappear. And how you made both the butterflies in his stomach and his shadows go crazy with the familiar feeling of crushing.

He definitely wasn’t playing it cool, for soon both Nesta and worse than that, Cassian, knew about his crush.

“Just ask her out!” Nesta urged him. “She’s the sweetest! Even if she does reject you, which I’m sure she won’t, she will do it kindly.”

That didn’t help his case at all.

What if he build up the confidence to ask you out and you end up rejecting him? He won’t ever recover.

“Why are you this nervous?” Cassian asked him. “It’s not like you haven’t asked out a female before.”

Of course he had asked out females before, but that was usually just to have sex. He never actually met females he wanted to date. He wanted to cook dinner with you and read with you and go for romantic walks. It was a totally new experience.

“I’m not nervous,” he grumbled back.

“Az, your shadows,” Cassian pointed towards the black blob of shadows in the corner of the room. They were shaking in both excitement and fear.

Azriel waved his hand through them and made them act more neutral. He looked back at his friends and saw both their smug smiles.

“Shut up,” he just said and started to leave the room.

“Az?” He stopped and turned to look at Nesta. “I have this book I need picked up from a certain someone’s bookshop. Can you do that for me?”

Azriel didn’t know who he was when he immediately answered yes and went to the bookshop.

It was surprisingly empty when he walked into the shop. He was immediately relaxed from the cozy atmosphere and comforting smell.

“Hello,” you said from the counter and Azriel felt his heartbeat grow faster from just the sound of your voice. “Can I help you?”

He had to pick up courage with a deep breath before he walked up to you.

“I was sent to pick up a book for Nesta Archeron,” he said and tried to keep his voice from shaking.

“Oh, yes! She’s been so excited to read this one! And I’ve really been looking forward to talk about it with someone. Give me a moment!”

You turned around and looked through the big stack of books that stood on the counter beside her.

“Ask her out,” his shadows started to whisper to him. “She wants you to.”

He just shook his head at them.

You turned around and Azriel suddenly noticed one of his shadows playing with your hair.

He immediately pulled it back.

“Behave”

He felt the shadows laugh back at him.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said after clearing his throat.

“No worries,” you answered with the smile that made his knees weak. He got lost in the beauty of your eyes and studied all the small details in your face that he hadn’t seen from a distance. She handed him the book. “Nesta already paid. Do you need a bag?”

“You too,” he said and his eyes widened at the realization that he absolutely did not answer your question.

He just shook his head and gave you a small smile before he rushed out of the shop.

He hid in his shadows for the rest of the day.

“Okay, I’ve had enough of this,” Cassian said as he dumped as few small books on the table in fr of him.

“Poetry” his shadows let him know.

“I don’t need a poetry lesson, Cass,” he told his brother and let his annoyance show.

“Well, you haven’t been able to ask her out otherwise and right now you are “Nesta’s weird friend”.”

Azriel got embarrassed by the amount of happiness he felt from knowing you spoke about him.

“I don’t need to resort to poetry,” Azriel continued.

“Okay then big guy,” Cassian mocked him. “Prove it.”

That’s when it started. Azriel realized Cassian wasn’t the only one that had enough of Azriel’s crush. His shadows were also annoyed.

So they started watching you. Azriel asked them to stay away multiple times, but they refused to listen.

The only problem was that this only made Azriel’s crush bigger, because the shadows told him about every part of your day.

“Smiles, laughing, singing, talking to her dog, talking to herself about what to have for dinner.”

Azriel started to wonder if his shadows crushed more on you than he did and then he remembered that the shadows acted on his emotions.

One day, the shadows gave him a particular informative message about you.

“Stupid male, mean, pretty smile cry.”

It made Azriel stop in his tracks. You were crying? Someone had said something mean enough to make you, a female that smiled and laughed every second of every day, cry? He needed to do something.

“What can I do?”

“Lonely” was his shadows only answer.

That’s when he realized that maybe asking you out would actually go well. So he started to prepare.

“Favorite food?”

“Pizza.”

“Flowers?” His shadows informed him of the old flowers on your kitchen table.

“Today?”

“Yes”

That’s why he got dressed, flew down from the House of Wind and went to a flower shop before he went to the bookshop.

You stood inside dusting and preparing to close the store when he came in.

“Hello, again,” you greeted him when he walked in even though it only was two minutes until you were closing. He smiled at you. “Can I help you?”

He straightened his back and tightened his wings to try to build confidence.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me,” he asked you.

Your face lit up with an amazing smile.

“I would love that,” you answered and Azriel felt himself get ten kilos lighter. “When were you thinking?”

Now, today.

“I can whenever, what works the best for you?” He asked and impressed himself by the lightness in his voice.

“I’m available now if you just give me a few minutes to change,” you answered.

“That sounds good,” Azriel replied and tried not to fidget to much with the flowers.

The flowers!

“These are for you by the way,” he answered and handed her the yellow bouquet.

“Thank you. Did you know that yellow is my favorite color?” You asked him.

“A few companions of mine might have told me,” he said and hoped you wouldn’t freak out that his shadows had been spying on you.

“I thought so.”

Azriel looked confused.

“You thought so?” He asked.

“I mean,” you started. “I didn’t have shadows braiding my hair every second of every day before I met you.”

First now Azriel noticed the two small braids that had been made in your hair. And he suddenly felt his face become warm.

“Just give me five minutes,” you said with a laugh and left the room.

“I can’t believe you,” he told his shadows.

“It was either that or poetry,” they taunted him back.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[beelinx]

childhood best friends to lovers w/ denki kaminari

Warnings: None! (I think) Maybe Denki’s a little ooc ? 833 words ! Reader is gender neutral :P

Childhood Friend!Denki who you met in kindergarten. Some kid was trying to steal your lollipop, and Denki, looking all valiant and brave, electrocuted the kid to save you. Of course, he still hadn’t gotten the hang of his quirk, and electrocuted you, too.

Childhood Friend!Denki who felt so so so bad about it. So, when he regained consciousness from the short-circuit he had experienced, invited you over for a playdate at his house.

Childhood Friend!Denki who begs his mom to let you stay for a sleepover, and then proceeds to sob uncontrollably as he watches you leave his house holding your mother’s hand after his plan fails.

Childhood Friend!Denki who never let you play with any of the other kindergarten boys. He grabbed your hand and dragged you away, ensuring you only built those blocks with him.

Childhood Friend!Denki who always partnered up with you in group projects, pouting if the teacher chose the groups and separated you two. Grumbling under his breath as he watched you make a presentation with some other dude.

Childhood Friend!Denki who’d get so jealous when you gave more attention to someone else that he made you swear you two would be best friends forever. You giggled and pinky promised you obviously would be, and he smiled proudly.

Best Friend!Denki who loved how you cared for him after he short-circuits. Sometimes he even did so on purpose just to have you fuss over him.

Best Friend!Denki who is only okay with you beating him at Mario Kart, or any such games.

Best Friend!Denki who spends more time over at your house than at his.

Best Friend!Denki who asked you to your middle school dance, gaining the guts after hearing a guy say he’d been thinking about asking you.

Best Friend!Denki who almost short-circuited after he saw you coming down the stairs to him. He swore he’d never seen anyone more beautiful. Your mothers giggled at the sight of you two, all dressed up and blushing, and took about a hundred pictures.

Best Friend!Denki who realized his feelings for you were more than a crush that very same night. Seeing you laugh at all his stupid jokes made it click for him. He wanted to hear your laugh all his life. He needed to.

Best Friend!Denki who begged you to try out for UA’s hero course, which you reluctantly agreed to do.

Best Friend!Denki who almost didn’t go to UA after he found out you didn’t get into the hero course with him. Of course, you smacked some sense into him. He almost jumped with joy when you told him you were going to the general course, so you’d both still be in the same high school.

Best Friend!Denki who kept you as a secret from all his class 1A friends. He knew how cool they were, he saw how all the girls fawned over them, and he selfishly wanted to keep you all to himself. He didn’t want to risk you falling in love and leaving him for Todoroki.

Best Friend!Denki who almost lost in the first round of the sports festival simply because he got distracted by the fact you were cheering him on.

Best Friend!Denki who was so embarrassed he lost so miserably, and was almost too ashamed to see you afterwards.

Best Friend!Denki who always thought about your safety first, your face never leaving his mind throughout any fight.

Best Friend!Denki who finally gets the guts to ask you out after he saw you walking with Shinso, and Sero chimed in, telling him if he didn’t shoot his shot, someone else would do it for him.

Best Friend!Denki, who you’ve never seen so nervous, hands sweating and fiddling with his shirt, face flushed, and voice cracking, asking you if you’d let him be your boyfriend.

Boyfriend!Denki who’d show you off to anyone that crossed his path. At this point, all his friends know more about you than you know about yourself.

Boyfriend!Denki who’d always go out of his way to try to impress you, which has resulted in many embarrassing moments that his friends are never going to let you.

Boyfriend!Denki who’d try to win all the prizes at the fair for you, but only end up getting you some small pig plushie, who you’ve come to adore.

Boyfriend!Denki who actually regrets winning it now, because you seem to prefer cuddling with Mr Chubbs than you do with him.

Boyfriend!Denki who gets you flowers once a week after being advised by Kirishima. He gets you your favorites, sometimes spicing it up to see how you react to the new flowers.

Boyfriend!Denki who bought a ring on your one month anniversary, and has been saving it for the right time to ask, when he knows you’re ready, too.

Boyfriend!Denki who’s been ready to marry you since the day he first met you.

first tumblr post this is scary chat

tysm for reading!! <3

[girlcowboy1]

I think gen z ultimately lost the war against mental illness when they decided to adapt the older generations rhetoric of "mentally ill ppl who have noticeable symptoms are bad and evil and must be avoided at all costs, they deserve to be alone and die alone" which... most people are not saying that outright, but that IS what they're saying, whether they realize it or not, when they choose to discuss these issues based on personal concepts of morality and punishment instead of approaching it with a mix of empathy and an understanding of science, and how the brain operates.

"Having a mental illness isn't an excuse" is true to a certain extent, but I think a lot of people don't understand that to an extent, it also IS an excuse. The only reason people like to believe that it isn't in any capacity is because mental illness is an invisible disability, and if there's one thing that people love to dismiss the impact of, it's invisible disabilities. Because we can't see what's going on beneath the surface, we struggle to understand the issue, we struggle to empathize with the affected person, whom we may prefer to instead write off as being lazy or malicious, when in reality they are in pain and/or are missing an important tool that helps them function the way they'd like to.

Before getting on medication, I felt and (still sometimes feel) as though I existed behind an invisible glass that separated me from everyone else. I could not understand the point of a lot of mundane things, I couldn't relate to those around me, I felt like my existence was a mistake that should have never happened and the universe was attempting to expunge me by making my life so hard I would kill myself.

And then I got on medication, and suddenly I was able to see things that I had never seen before but had existed in front of me the whole time. I was able to be kinder to people, to be more patient, to talk myself out of bad thoughts I would previously ruminate about for days and weeks. I was able to communicate more coherently, to express my feelings in a way I couldn't before. I wanted to do things again. I wanted to dress up, look nice. I wanted to BE nice.

Of course, these are all still things I struggle with. Like with most tools for disability, medication is helpful in giving me the ability to function in a way that makes life more enjoyable— but it doesn't completely cure the issue. The point is. I tried so hard, time and time again, to change on my own. I tried taking supplements, I tried mindfulness, I tried changing the way I eat, I tried self-help videos/books. But I was a deeply depressed, deeply agitated person whose brain was not wired the way it should have been. So none of what I tried would stick. I would act out in ways I KNEW was wrong, but when you get into a certain state of mind, it's difficult to speak to yourself, to talk yourself down from doing or saying things you know you probably shouldn't. Especially when you feel so isolated from others, and struggle to see the point in anything.

It was only after medication that I made long-term improvements. It was only after my brain chemistry was physically altered in a positive way that my brain could begin to function better, and that my outward behavior improved.

How the anatomy of the brain effects a person is a crucial part of mental health that gets left out of relating discussions too often, I think, and its where I believe gen z unfortunately tends to overlap with gen x and boomers. The brain is an organ like any other, and if it is damaged, or sick, or lacking somewhere in its anatomy.... it will not function properly. The person whose body it inhabits will not function properly.

[buckleyflower]

WHAT MY BRAIN CAME UP WITH BECAUSE OF THE UNCLE BUCK STILLS:

Think about Eddie entering the loft casually whistling the theme song of Buck’s most recent movie obsession, with his key, and finding Buck with his slightly oversized brown hoodie baking with his niece.

He’d stop in his tracks and think that it’s a fever dream. He’d stop and pray that they didn’t hear him so he could take a moment to fully take in that he gets to have this man, that this soft, cute giant is his, and is currently hunched on his niece’s back so she doesn’t fall from the stool she’s standing on.

The lights are dim and it’s dark outside and yet Eddie doesn’t remember being ever hit with such a blinding clarity. He wants to have a kid with this man, a baby, wants to grow another human being with Buck, because Buck is the best human he’s ever met. And that realization startles him fully.

Because it usually happens in your twenties, when you’re maybe young and carefree and you have no clue what you’ll do with your life: you’ll turn around and look at a person and think I wanna share my life with you, I want to raise my babies with you. But he’s not carefree, he’s the furthest thing from carefree. And he’s not a kid either. He has a kid. And one that is currently in another state because he doesn’t want to see him. And yet here he is, wishing he could have Buck’s kids.

Anyway— Buck saw him. Of course he did. And he smiles at him and Eddie’s insides explode as they have been for all this time whenever Buck looked at him like this. Eddie just didn’t know.

“Oh, Jee, look, Uncle Eddie is here!” He excitedly points at him and motions for him to get closer.

Eddie chuckles and reaches them both while Jee-Yun babbles and simply calls him Eddie, Eddie! all joyful and happy. She’s so sweet and looks like she’s only ever known contentment. Eddie wishes she could be like this forever.

He puts his lips on Buck’s forehead and sighs softly. “Hi.”

“You’re baking.” Kind of obvious but the alternative would have been marry me, have my children please.

“You’re here.” Then they say at the same time. As though they can’t quite believe they’re there. But not there as in the loft, there as in right now, together, for the rest of their time on Earth.

Eddie would like to tell him that there’s no universe where he would willingly be someplace else knowing that being with Buck is an option. Instead, he looks at the wide hoodie and blushes. “You’re adorable, do you know that?”

“‘M not adorable,” Buck pouts while Jee tugs at one of his hoodie strings to get his attention. “I’m a grown man.”

And Eddie chuckles. “An adorable grown man.”

He thinks he will go back to church as soon as he can because he has to talk to the priest. Not now. Now he could do something crazy like scream hey, look, I found my joy! and then run away. But he eventually will.

After all, when that evening Jee-Yun leaves, he cuddles with Buck between Buck’s body and the back of the couch, pressed ridiculously close, and drags his fingers on the side of Buck’s torso, across his ribs, on his soft skin, right under the brown hoodie he’s been loving ever since he stepped foot in the loft. So now, he has more pressing matters to attend. Like burying his nose into his boyfriend’s curls.

Everything screams soft, soft, soft, but most of all: joy.

Eddie finally found his.

[jasvtsc]

terminally ill!dean winchester x reader.

dean knew that he didn’t have much time.

after discovering that he had blood clots in his brain that were pretty much incurable, because of a spell some witch cast on him, he didn’t know what to do. for the first time in his life, he felt so…

lost.

and when he thought about it better, he realized that he was all alone.

sure, there were people in his life. he had his brother and his friends. but he didn’t have his own person. everyone had someone. sam had a whole family, castiel was back in heaven doing some angel duty type shit and the rest of them? they weren’t that close.

so yeah, everyone had someone. but dean? he was lonely.

how else, after all he was the one who got rid of you in the first place. he still had this bitter feeling about your break up. not to mention the guilt that was eating him alive since that day.

as the type of person who avoids any type of feelings like fire, he did the same with you. as soon as you were getting too close to his liking, he got scared and immediately ran away. he came up with some shit, how he just got bored of you and it was all causal from the beginning — you were just imagining things, there was no relationship.

when in fact he loved you. and he loved you like crazy.

and the knowledge that he was about to die soon (where this time there was no coming back), he was actually scared.

all he wanted was one day with you.

but even when he was standing on the front porch of your house, he hesitated, his hand halfway up to the door as he didn’t know if he should knock. however, he had nothing to lose at this point. even if you screamed at him how much you hated him and punched him repeatedly, he’d take it. he’d do everything, just to see you this one last time.

so, he knocked.

and when you opened the door, you didn’t know if you were seeing things now or what. there he was — dean fucking winchester, in the flesh.

you debated whether you should kick him out or kick him. the fucking audacity to appear at your doorstep after all these years? yeah, well, you weren’t as strong-willed as you wanted to be so soon enough, he was sitting in your kitchen, having a cup of coffee.

“so, kids, huh?” he hummed, looking around at all the different pictures of your little family — your partner and two kids probably around the age of four and two.

and he couldn’t help but feel nauseous at the thought that it could be him if if wasn’t for the fact that he was a fucking coward. it was enough to make him want to turn back time and undo everything.

he missed you, so much.

and at this point, he regretted his whole life spent on avoiding commitment. maybe then, he’d have someone who would care for him enough to have a family together. maybe then, he’d get to be the father he once dreamed of being. he had always been good with kids and he wanted to even have some of his own one day — with you.

but of course, he had to fuck it up like everything else in his life.

“what do you want, dean?” you sighed tiredly, rubbing your temple. this whole situation was already giving you a headache and you had a feeling that it was about to get worse.

you weren’t wrong.

“well, you see—“ he cleared his throat and began to explain his situation. he didn’t want pity or sympathy. he didn’t want to guilt trip you. he just wanted you… to know. that’s all. “—so, i just wanted to see you again. one last time,” he said with a sheepish smile, quickly looking away.

because as soon as he noticed the tears gathering in your beautiful eyes, that once had held so much love for him, he felt like he was about to cry himself.

“how much time do you have?” you asked, your voice trembling as you looked at him in disbelief. it felt so surreal to know that the man you once loved was actually dying. and there was nothing you could’ve done about it.

“i don’t know,” he shrugged.

a fucking lie.

he knew exactly how much time he had left — just a few hours. he already said his goodbyes to everyone and you were the last one on his list. and the reason was pretty simple — he wanted to spend his last moments with the love of his life.

with the one that got away.

a/n: so yeah, this one was inspired by a kdrama called mr. plankton (that shit DESTORYED ME i actually need a few business days to get it together lmao) and ig i just keep on being emo

༄♡ tags: @internetitgirl17 @beausling @deanswidow @deansbite @aileenunfiltered @fitxgrld @figthoughts @angelicp0etry @hrtsoldierboy @titsout4nicholas

[inawickedlittletown]

One Year - BuckTommy - 8x06 fix it

Summary: This is my fix-it because I for one can't take that break up being the end. So, it takes a while, but they belong together. Words: 6k Read on Ao3

-

The first time he saw Evan again, it was from afar. It had been a couple of weeks. They were at the same call, Tommy somehow winding up on the ground. He spotted Evan walking next to Eddie with Howie and Hen just ahead of them, heard their voices despite how loud everything was. He kept his distance, and only once ran into someone from the 118. Ravi, who gave him a smile and nod. 

The next time, it was at one of the badge and ladder bars. Lucy had forced him to go. Had she not been holding his arm, he would have turned and fled. Instead he saw Evan throw back a shot and then walk over to some guy whose physique told Tommy he had to be a firefighter. He saw as Evan said something that made the other guy laugh and then they were getting drinks together and…and Lucy took him out the door while he tried to catch a breath. 

Tommy wasn’t new to a break up…it was just that this one was hitting harder than any before. 

Before Evan, there had been three boyfriends. Before and in between were hookups and one-night stands and even some friends with benefits that popped in and out of his life. He’d come out when he was in his early thirties, around the same age as Evan. Of course, for Tommy it had been different. He’d been hiding it from everyone and even from himself. 

In the army, he and some other guys had had a bit of fun. Masturbating together and pretending it was all fine and heterosexual because they weren’t touching each other. He’d exchanged one or two blowjobs here or there like an exchange of favors with guys that had girlfriends waiting for them back home. He lied and told them he had a girl too. Pretended he didn’t like giving as much as he liked receiving. 

Things were much the same when he was at the 118, except that pretending he had a girlfriend was harder. He even tried to date women. Abby…he’d met Abby when the 118 went to a call about her mother. She’d almost burnt down her whole house by forgetting to turn off a stove and looking back that had definitely been an early sign of her dementia. Abby was nice and Tommy couldn’t deny that he got along with her and it helped that she understood how busy his job kept him and what his hours were like. 

Dating Abby was the first time he felt like maybe he could do it. Marry the girl. Have some kids. Lie to himself and the world forever. As unfair as it was to Abby, it just…Tommy could tell that it might work. It was why they got engaged. It was why he was so sure about getting married but then there were guys he met on calls or that he checked out from time to time and he didn’t think he would ever be able to put that away. Instead, he would wind up cheating on Abby and making the hurt worse. So, he broke it off and felt horrible when he realized that Abby had gotten the blow of her mom’s dementia diagnosis.

After Abby, Tommy went a little wild. He slept around. Found out more about himself. Knew that he could never do what he did to Abby to any other woman. He heard at some point about Abby taking up with a younger guy. In what universe could Tommy have expected that years later he would date the same guy. 

One night, he ran into Karen at a Target of all places. Tommy was there to pick up detergent and he was just deciding between brand name or the store brand and also trying his hardest to not buy the brand he knew that Evan used, when a cart bumped into his. 

“I’m so sorry,” Karen said. 

He looked up slowly. 

“Tommy,” Karen said warmly. “Hi.” 

Behind her came Denny and Mara. Mara he’d only met a handful of times and he knew her to be a little shy. Denny smiled at him. 

“Hi, Tommy.”

“Oh. Hi,” Tommy said. “You got your cast off.” 

Denny nodded. “A little while ago.” 

He remembered sitting in that hospital waiting room and how he’d tagged along to Denny’s room and hadn’t expected that Denny would want him to sign his cast seeing as he was all but a stranger, but Denny did offer him the marker and Tommy did sign.

Despite wanting to, he didn’t ask about Evan. He hardly managed to ask about Hen. 

“She’s good,” Karen said and then, “hey, listen, you don’t have to be a stranger.” 

He offered her a tight smile. 

“I’m serious. Hey, how about dinner soon?”

He shrugged and Karen insisted, pulling out her phone and throwing dates at him until he agreed. 

Before she left, Karen grabbed his arm. “I don’t know what happened, no one really does, Hen says he doesn’t want to talk about it. You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to, but that doesn’t mean you’re not our friend still, Alright? That doesn’t just go for Hen and I, either.” 

Eddie had reached out the day after. The day after that too. And the one after that one. Then it was weekly. Then it was bi-weekly. Then came a final message. A voicemail. Tommy almost didn’t listen to it. 

“Hey, man,” Eddie said. “I guess you decided to cut all ties. I get it. Kind of. And look, Buck is my friend, but you are too and I don’t drop my friends. I know you’re hurting too, so don’t be afraid to reach out. I’m here for whenever you’re ready.” 

Tommy never called him. He thought about it. Almost texted him several times. He missed Eddie. 

He missed their easy friendship and the way that Eddie had welcomed him so wholly. He just couldn’t face him because Eddie would give it all away about how Evan was doing and Tommy wouldn’t be able to keep his own feelings in. It would burst out and then Eddie would know just how horrible Tommy really felt and how regretful too. 

He did regret it. 

He hated himself. 

Tommy went to dinner with Hen and Karen. It was good. Fun, even. Neither of them asked and Tommy didn’t offer any information. Instead, he got to hear about Mara’s adoption going through finally and about how Maddie was pregnant and doing really well. He tried not to think about Evan becoming an uncle for the second time and how excited he had to be over it. They exchanged Lucy stories and then stories from way back when Tommy was in the 118. Tommy promised they would do dinner again. 

The next time he ran into Evan, it had been more time than they had even been together. Tommy shouldn’t still be mourning the end of the relationship and yet…of course he was. Of course he still missed Evan desperately. So much for waylaying a heartbreak, there hadn’t been stopping that apparently and seeing Evan was like having someone reach right into his chest and squeeze. 

The first guy that he ever called boyfriend was a guy named Ivan. Ivan was a little older…okay, much older, and Tommy thought he was in love. Figured that was it and that he and Ivan could be forever. When Ivan broke it off because he met someone else, Tommy was devastated. 

“Tommy, I’m your first boyfriend, of course this wasn’t going to last. I always thought we were on the same page and that this was a bit of fun.” 

A month or so later, Tommy realized that Ivan was right. He wasn’t torn up and he hadn’t been in love as much as wanting the security of the relationship because it meant he didn’t need to keep looking for love. He’d gotten comfortable with Ivan, but what they hadn’t wasn’t something that would last no matter how much Tommy had thought it was what he wanted. 

The second guy came a year or so later. Paul was younger and Tommy met him while they were on a call. When Paul came by with muffins a few days later they got talking and Paul admitted that he was nervous but he’d wanted to see Tommy again. They had a few dates and then Tommy was rushing in with Paul. They spent every moment together and then moved in together too. 

When they broke up right before their one year anniversary, it was because Paul admitted that he never thought his first real relationship with a guy could be his last and that he had more options to explore. 

“Tommy, you were amazing. You will always be so important to me, but I’m not in love with you.” 

Somehow, that still hurt less than Evan and Tommy only had himself to blame for that. 

He saw Evan at a farmer’s market. He was with Jee-Yun who skipped ahead of him laughing. Evan was smiling after her. Tommy didn’t mean to follow, but he did keep his distance. Saw Evan buy a few things and smile at the girl that sold them to him, saw him stop at a stand selling apple cider, the man behind the counter blond and tall and bulky. Hot. His eyes were hazel and he was smiling at Evan and ignoring anyone else that approached. Evan was smiling back and doing that thing where he ducked his head bashfully before looking up through his eyelashes. Tommy’s heart ached. 

Tommy walked away from that. He turned and he walked until he was back at his car and then he sat there in his truck and let his mind wander because what if Evan asked that guy out? Or the girl? What if one of them wasn’t dumb like Tommy and stuck around and refused to let Evan go. What if Tommy never got a chance to…but he’d already blown his chance with Evan and he doubted there would ever be another. 

When he got to his shift later, Lucy took one look at him.

“Hey, you okay?” 

“I don’t think I’ve been okay for months.” 

Lucy hugged him. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened?” she asked. 

He shook his head. 

It was hard to even admit to himself how much he’d screwed up and how much he’d allowed his fear to color how he faced Evan wanting more than what they already had. He’d been unprepared when Evan brought it up and then it had been the Abby of it all and the way that Tommy knew he couldn’t expect for Evan to settle for him. That just wasn’t how it worked. He was the first, but not the last. Tommy just wasn’t good enough to be Evan’s last and it was something that Evan would figure out sooner or later. So why wait for their whole lives to get even more entwined and for everything to be so much harder when it all fell apart. 

One night, when Lucy showed up at his house to hang out, she had tried to bad-talk Evan as if that would help. It was the night she dropped information that Tommy hadn’t known and wasn’t it wild how much he and Evan had inadvertently not shared. Six months and they hadn’t talked about anything at all, apparently. 

Lucy and Evan had kissed once while drunk at a bar. 

The jealousy that hit him was…Tommy wasn’t usually a jealous guy and yet the very idea made him cringe and maybe he downed two shots back to back. 

“I kissed him,” Lucy said. “He didn’t push me away and I had no idea that he had a girlfriend at the time.”

It didn’t make him think badly of Evan, not the way that Lucy maybe intended. It just…it made Tommy wonder about how it would have gone if he was right. Would Evan have cheated on him once he realized he wanted more than what Tommy was willing to offer. But no…no, that wasn’t Evan was it? No, Evan would have stuck it out even when he got miserable and didn’t want to anymore and then Tommy would have had to say something and end it. 

“What happened after that?” Tommy had asked. 

“Between me and Buck? Nothing. I’m just saying, he isn’t this perfect guy either.”

As if Tommy didn’t know that, as if Tommy hadn’t seen exactly who Evan was from the get go. He was a mess, he was jealous, impulsive, he believed in curses, got pouty when he didn’t get his way. Evan was far from perfect, but Tommy had loved him because of it. He saw how much of the bad was still good or maybe not even bad at all. 

Lucy did leave him thinking about how they had never discussed exes until Abby and how maybe they should have. He wondered if Evan would have even brought up the Lucy of it all. He wondered how he would have taken Tommy’s own exes…Ivan and Paul and…and Henry. 

Henry was the last boyfriend before Evan. Gorgeous Henry who began as a friend and then started to get a bit flirty and who kissed Tommy for the first time at a New Years Eve party and then freaked out because Tommy was a guy. 

Weeks of not talking and Tommy not being able to stop thinking about him to an obsessive degree. How on Valentine’s day, he was surprised when red roses and chocolate was delivered to Harbor from Henry to Tommy and a simple note asking him out. He’d gotten so much shit for that, but Tommy had secretly loved it. The romance of it all, the sweetness. Henry had been so sweet. 

Henry who told Tommy that he was sorry but he had no idea guys were an option for him and how he couldn’t deny how much he wanted Tommy. They had long conversations about it and Tommy took it so slow that they didn’t even have sex for the first two months. 

Tommy didn’t realize that their feelings were different. Tommy had been crushing on Henry even before the kiss and then he had him. Henry had been mystified by Tommy and his attraction to him, but it wasn’t long before his eyes started to wander. Tommy had bought his house right before they started dating and when Henry’s roommate situation got a bit difficult he welcomed him right in. It had felt like the start of the rest of their lives. That had been a mistake. 

Tommy had been so blind. Looking back, the red flags had been evident. He’d been blinded by love and friendship and daydreams about a future he thought was within his grasp. Then, one night, when he managed to sprain an ankle, Tommy was first taken to the hospital and then sent home a whole thirteen hours earlier than expected. Henry hadn’t answered his calls, so Tommy got back home on his own. He found Henry in bed with a woman. 

The last time he saw Henry, it was when Henry picked up the last of his things and when Henry made his apologies and excuses it felt like Ivan and Paul before him. 

Tommy was never enough. Not enough. Always the placeholder for something or someone better. 

“Why not just break up with me?” Tommy remembered asking. 

“I didn’t know how. You were so…I’m sorry, Tommy. I guess I’m not done trying to figure out what I want.” 

The one thing Henry had figured out was that Tommy was not what he wanted. 

He did cry after Henry and then he threw himself into work and downloaded an app or two and didn’t try to date seriously. He had friends to call on lonely nights and then he could hit up a bar and find someone that way. Tommy had all but convinced him that it was all he’d ever have, until he met a firefighter with a cute birthmark who Tommy kissed without having planned to and who he almost wrote off after the first date and was so glad he didn’t. Breaking up with Evan was hitting harder than anyone that came before. 

Evan was different. He had burrowed deep in his heart and there was no getting him out. Tommy didn’t think he wanted him out. 

A few weeks later, he saw Eddie at the mall and with him was Christopher. He looked taller than the last time Tommy had seen him, and he was in LA. Eddie looked happy. Of course, he was happy. Tommy hated that he didn’t know when Chris had returned or how Eddie had won him over again. 

“Tommy,” Eddie said. 

“Tommy,” Christopher said. 

Had it been just Eddie, Tommy might have ignored them. Instead, he turned around. 

“Hi,” he said. 

“Hey,” Eddie said with a smile. 

“Hi, Tommy,” Christopher said. 

“Hey, kid, nice to see you back in LA.” 

Chris gave him a rundown of his time in Texas. He talked about the friends he made and his cousins and grandparents, but how Eddie had gone to see him and then Chris decided to come back with him. 

It was nice to talk to Chris and then to follow Eddie and Chris into one of the stores. Chris got distracted then, and Eddie turned to Tommy. 

“How are you really?” 

“It’s been months,” Tommy said. 

“I know. You never called me back. You should have,” Eddie said. 

“I couldn’t,” Tommy said. “You’re…how is he, Eddie?” 

Eddie took in a breath. “Look, I don’t think I should answer that. Buck is coping. He’s doing…what did he call it, he’s exploring. Apparently, it’s what you told him he needed to do.” Eddie’s look was pointed. Full of judgment. 

Tommy had to look away, he had to hope that his eyes wouldn’t fill up with tears. That night, right after he left Evan’s place, Tommy didn’t even remember how he got home. He did remember that he’d gone for his usual comforts. A shot of whiskey, a case of beer, and he’d tried to watch a movie and failed miserably. Hadn’t been able to watch romantic comedies since. Documentaries were out too. 

“Dad,” Christopher called. 

“I — I’ll leave you to it,” Tommy said. 

Eddie grabbed his shoulder. “Wait. No. Just…let’s hang out. You can come over or I can come over. We could sparr or get a drink. We’re still friends, Tommy. I’m serious.” 

“Okay.” 

Eddie called him that night and Tommy couldn’t say no to having Eddie come over to his place. They didn’t talk about Evan the whole time, not until Eddie was getting ready to leave. 

“I want to say something because I’m your friend and Buck’s friend. What you did was really stupid and I never thought you were stupid. If this was the way you always saw it going, why did you waste his time? Why did you let him fall for you? And I know you hurt yourself too, Tommy, I can see it all over you. So why? Just…answer that.” 

Eddie didn’t even let him reply before he left. 

Why did Tommy do that? Because even a minute of knowing Evan was worth it. Ending it early was just…he’d expected it to help because he had control and he was making the call and then he wouldn’t be devastated. It was a little late for it, apparently, at least on his end. 

“He’s exploring,” he said out loud. Eddie’s words. 

What had Tommy expected. God, he really was an idiot. 

A week later he was at a call that the 118 was present for as well. He tried to stay well clear of them, but he couldn’t help but look for Evan. It was like being a moth drawn to light and of course Evan was his light. 

He’d overheard Lucy and Melton talking on his first shift after his talk with Eddie and Melton had said everyone had a regret in love, that everyone had someone they let go of or who let them go that always left what ifs. Evan wasn’t a regret, Tommy would never regret him. What he regretted was that Tommy had allowed fear and his own baggage to cloud things and destroy what he and Evan had. 

Of course, a part of him did still wonder if he had been right. Every relationship came with risk, and Evan having just realized he was into men as much as women, it wasn’t farfetched to think that one day he might think that he’d settled into something with Tommy far too quickly without really knowing for sure it was what he wanted. Evan hadn’t denied that either, he hadn’t tried to stop Tommy leaving. He hadn’t reached out. He hadn’t even asked for any of his things back — granted neither had Tommy. 

Tommy had everything that Evan had ever left as his house in the drawer that had been Evan’s. Or hanging on his coat rack. In his bathroom. In his kitchen. He hadn’t had the heart to remove any of it and sometimes when he was really tired or when he’d hit the booze a little hard with Lucy, he could even convince himself that it was there waiting for Evan. 

The call rang long, the fire blazing for a while and worse people stuck inside on the higher floors. Tommy was helping on the ground on a hose, he knew the 118 was helping with evacuation along with the 133 and somehow they did manage to get everyone out and they did manage to get the flames put out. Tommy wouldn’t admit it, but he spent most of the call with his heart in his throat hoping that Evan stayed safe and that nothing went wrong. 

They were just getting back to the truck when he saw Evan a little soot covered, but smiling. He was talking to a reporter. Red hair, pale skin, skinny and pretty. He kept talking to her even after the camera man brought the camera down. 

“That’s Taylor Kelly,” Lucy said and she pushed him to keep moving. 

Taylor Kelly the reporter. Taylor Kelly who was Evan’s ex. Taylor who Evan had cheated on with Lucy. When he turned back to look once more they were no longer talking. 

“I don’t get why you haven’t reached out to him,” Lucy said. 

“He’s a coward,” Melton said. 

“It’s been how many months now and you’re not over him. Do you want me to find out if he’s seeing anyone? Maybe you still have a shot. We’ve never seen you like this before and at first it was I guess normal. Now it’s a bit depressing. What happened, Tommy?” 

“What happened is Melton is right and I am a coward,” Tommy said and then he climbed into the truck and looked away from them, glad when they didn’t talk to him the whole way back to Harbor. 

He heard about Maddie giving birth from Hen. It was a passing comment one night when he went over for dinner and Tommy found himself mourning that he hadn’t been there for Evan through all of it, especially because as Karen told it, Maddie had had a hard labor. 

He was shown pictures from Hen’s phone. The baby was tiny and already had a tuft of dark hair. He scrolled through pictures and then there he was. Evan holding the baby in his arms, the baby looking even smaller tucked right into the crook of Evan’s elbow and Evan smiling down with so much awe and love. It hurt to look at him, but Tommy couldn’t stop. 

So maybe there had been times when Tommy allowed himself to think about a future where he and Evan stayed together, one where they were married and decided they should be parents too. He’d seen Evan around kids too often, knew Evan would want to be a dad. Tommy had never longed for that or anything, but with Evan he would have wanted it. That was all gone now. 

“Oh,” Karen said. “Sorry. I forgot…”

Tommy forced himself to flip to the next picture. Another shot of Evan, this time he was looking up with the bluest glassiest eyes. He missed him. He missed him so damn much and it wasn’t fair how much. 

“Tommy,” Karen said. “Hey, are you alright?” 

“I miss him,” Tommy said. 

“I’m pretty sure he misses you too,” Hen said. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Do you have anything stronger?” 

Hen didn’t mince words. She told him point blank about how after the break up, Evan had tried to act like he was alright. Then, he’d just started to do anything he could in order to keep busy. 

“He started baking,” Hen said. “Then he started doing yoga. He started rock climbing. I think he even took an art class. Anyway, it was hard to watch but I guess it was better than if he sat at home wallowing.” 

“Like I did,” Tommy said. 

Karen grasped his wrist. “You were both hurting. What happened, Tommy?” 

“He asked me to move in and I said no.” 

“And you broke up over that?” Hen asked, surprised. 

Tommy shook his head. “No. Yes. In what world was this going to last? He only just discovered he likes men and yeah it was going well but it wasn’t forever. If we moved in together, it was going to be so much harder when we broke up.” 

“That’s…that’s bullshit, Tommy,” Hen said. “So, you broke his heart and yours so it wouldn’t happen later on.” 

“I didn’t break his—”

“You did,” Karen said. 

“Well shouldn’t he get a chance to explore what his sexuality means? Shouldn’t he get to figure that out instead of settling for the first guy he dates?” 

“And what if he wasn’t settling?” 

That kept him up all of that night. He still remembered how the conversation had gone. Evan had brought up the Abby thing and Tommy had felt put on the spot because it was the last thing he expected and then Evan had started to explain about Abby being an important relationship to him and how Tommy was just as important, the most important since, and all at once Tommy’s fears and insecurities had rushed forward because Evan and Abby hadn’t made it and now that Tommy was this gay mentor or whatever of course it wouldn’t last either. He tried to explain that to Hen and Karen and they both looked at him like he was the one that didn’t get it. 

“You need to talk to him,” Hen said. “For both your sakes.” 

“I don’t know if I can,” Tommy admitted. 

Exactly a year after it happened, he saw Evan again. 

Tommy had gone out to a gay bar because he couldn’t stay home and wallow. Lucy had also told him that he needed to put himself out there again. That if he wasn’t going to talk to Evan, then he needed to talk to someone that might give him a reason to move on. He really didn’t want to, but at the same time his right hand was getting tired and maybe some release of a carnal nature was what Tommy needed. No one had said it, but they had all kind of implied that Evan had at least gotten out there. 

He and Evan had gone to that bar once, gotten a drink and then danced a little before calling it a night and heading back to Evan’s, both of them eager to get up to Evan’s bedroom. He remembered seeing more than a few eyes looking at Evan with interest and how it had made something inside him churn because Tommy had known that if Evan was on the market again he wouldn’t have a hard time finding someone that was interested in him. 

Finding himself a free spot at the bar, Tommy ordered a beer and he tried not to think about the first few times that Tommy had gone into a gay bar and how nervous he’d been to actually put himself out there like that. 

“Hi, handsome,” a male voice said before Tommy had even gotten his beer. 

Tommy turned. “Hello.” 

The guy had floppy hair. He was lanky and thin, could probably be called a twink. He was also way too young for Tommy, probably not even in his mid-twenties. 

“So,” the twink said, hand reaching to touch Tommy’s chest right where the V of his shirt ended. “Want to have some fun?” He wiggled his eyebrows and licked his lips and his hand climbed to Tommy’s neck. 

“Sorry,” Tommy said. “That’s not why I’m here.” 

“Boo,” the guy said, hand dropping away, “So why are you here?” 

“A drink,” Tommy said decisively because he knew that even if someone age appropriate were to approach him, he wouldn’t have been interested. They weren’t Evan. 

“Oh, well. It was worth trying. Though, I don’t usually get turned down twice in one night.” 

“What’s your name?” Tommy asked. 

“Owen.” 

“Well, Owen, it looks to me like there are plenty of fishes in the sea. Third time might be the charm. To be honest, you’re way too young for me and I’m still…I’m hung up on my ex.” 

Owen took a look around, but he turned back to Tommy. “Bad break up? Did he break your heart?” 

“More like I broke his and mine. Such an idiot.” 

“But, hey, you’re still hot. I could help you forget for a few hours.” 

Tommy laughed. 

Owen grinned. “Not ready for that. Must have been quite the guy.” 

“Yeah.” 

Owen wandered off and Tommy watched him strike up a conversation with another guy, someone a little closer to his age. They seemed to hit it off and next time he saw them they were out getting lost in the crowd of bodies on the dance floor. 

Tommy finished his beer and was about to order another when he heard a familiar voice. Down the bar he found Evan. He was turned away from Tommy looking to one of the tables where a man was waving. Tommy couldn’t watch this. He couldn’t see Evan flirt with someone else. He couldn’t see Evan go home with that guy. He couldn’t look away. 

Evan said something to the girl behind the bar and…wait, did he not accept the drink? Then, he saw Evan put some money down right before finishing his beer and moving to leave. 

Tommy did the same and he followed. 

Evan made it out the door just ahead of him and Tommy had to get around several people, but eventually he made it to the door and then out. Evan was just outside, arms crossed over his chest, waiting. 

“Tommy,” he said. 

His voice, the sound of his name, Tommy felt it all down to his bones. 

“Hi, Evan,” he said and he knew his voice broke on Evan’s name. 

“It’s been a year,” Evan said. 

The door opened behind Tommy and Tommy had to step out of the way, his eyes never leaving Evan because maybe Evan would disappear. 

“I know,” Tommy said. 

“It’s felt like longer,” Evan said. 

“I know.” 

“I miss you,” Evan said. 

“I miss you too.” 

Evan was quiet for a beat and then, “then, why?” 

It was high time he stopped being a coward, high time that he stopped getting in his own way or letting the past intrude on his present. 

“Because I’m the biggest idiot,” Tommy said.

Evan snorted. “You’re not wrong.” 

The door opened again bringing with it a wave of music. It was Owen, arms linked with the guy he’d been dancing with. He looked between them and laughed, shaking his head as he walked past them. 

“Maybe we should take this conversation elsewhere,” Tommy suggested. 

Tommy’s house was closer. It felt better than going to Evan’s loft, not that it stopped Tommy from remembering how it had all gone. How he’d let the door close behind him and he’d just thought that it was the right call. 

Evan followed him inside. 

“You know, it was so dumb of me to ask you to move in when you’re the one that owns his own place,” Evan said. “I was just…overcorrecting. Rushing. Trying to show you how much I wanted us to have a future.”

“And I got scared,” Tommy said and led Evan to the living room. “I was dumb too. I should never have broken up with you but, Evan, the way you were talking about Abby and me, it was like of course I was just here to be your next transformative relationship. The next thing that prepared you for…for whoever came next.”

Transformative. That word had stuck around for him, he realized. The comparison Evan had made about his relationship with Abby to their relationship. He and Evan sat down.

“Tommy, I’m—”

Tommy stood. “I’ll go get us some water.” 

He didn’t wait for Evan to respond. As soon as he was out of the room he took a few breaths. What were they doing here? What were either of them hoping to accomplish? Did Evan want to get back together? Was that…was that the right move? 

Twelve months. It had been double the amount of time that their relationship had lasted and Tommy ached for Evan. He longed for him. He still hadn’t gotten rid of any of the things that reminded him of Evan or the things that belonged to Evan either. Hell, he hadn’t even let anyone take over or make their own mark. 

“Tommy?” Evan called you. “Do you want me to come to the kitchen?” 

“I’ll be right back.” 

He grabbed and filled glasses. 

Evan had started pacing the floor. He looked distraught. Tommy wanted to grab his hands and hug him, instead he set down the water. 

“We never talked about our exes,” Tommy said. 

Evan’s gaze snapped towards him. “No, I guess we didn’t.”

“Come, sit,” Tommy said and motioned to the couch. “Evan, I think I let my past decide my future and clearly I was wrong and this last year has been miserable. I’ve missed you every day and I thought walking away was the right thing for you, but it was definitely the wrong thing for me and I just—”

He didn’t expect Evan to kiss him, but that’s what Evan did. It didn’t last long and Tommy wanted to pull him right into another kiss because it had been a year since the last time he kissed him — the last time he’d kissed anybody. 

“Evan,” he said. 

“I learned a year and a half ago that was one way of getting someone’s attention,” Evan said. “I’ve been miserable too. I hated this last year and I missed you and as much as I wanted to hate you I just love you too much.” 

Then, they were kissing again and Tommy was pressed back against his couch, Evan practically crawling into his lap. His arms were around Evan again and he really hadn’t thought that he would ever have this again, but Evan was there and he smelled amazing and he felt amazing and their lips slotted together perfectly. 

Tommy didn’t even realize he was crying until Evan pulled back and his hands were brushing away his tears and then kissing his cheeks. His nose. 

“I love you,” Evan said. “I’m in love with you.” 

His heart was soaring and he reached to cup Evan’s cheeks. “Good, because I love you too.” 

Evan smiled wide at him, pecked his lips and then just hugged him. Held him. Tommy held him back. 

“We’ll have to talk about it,” Tommy said. “I want to explain. I want—”

“Later,” Evan said. “Right now, I just want…I want to bask in this. In us.” 

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Interloper [Part 2]

Beetlejuice x Reader

Summary: Taking place directly after part 1, Beetlejuice and the Reader come to an agreement.

Part 1 // Part 1.5 <- ->

CW: BJ being a perv of course,

~~~

“Oh my God— You’re real! Like a really real ghost- demon?— poltergeist?”

“I can be whatever you want, babes,” he smiled a gnarly grin at you. Rotten teeth decorating his mouth and cracked lips.

“The lady on TV isn’t a con artist… it’s all been true— HAH! Suck on that, mom!” You pointed into the air. The shock of what was happening suddenly washed over you. Realizing you were genuinely in presence of something no longer alive. And he had been messing with you ever since you moved in.

“So, it’s been you this entire time? I haven’t been losing my mind?”

“Ah— of course not. I couldn’t resist getting the attention of a pretty young thing like you,” he magically had a bouquet of dead flowers in his hand, offering it out to you. You raised a brow, taking the flora from him.

He walked over to your dresser, immediately opening your panty drawer and prowling through it. Droning on as he went through your private clothing, “So I guess this means you’re interested in the Ole Juicester. You sure did sound awfully pretty saying my name three times like that— sorry, gotta grab another one of these,” he held up a pair of your panties, “My other ones got used if you know what I mean— *snort*”

You stomped over, grabbing his arms from your drawer and pulling him away. “You don’t get to just go through my shit because you want to!” He held his hands in front of him in a surrender position. Soft expression looking like you just kicked a puppy.

“Oh come on, babes! You were practically begging for me just a few seconds ago,” he folded his arms over his chest.

“You— you literally wrote your name out in front of me to read it! It’s not like I knew who you were! Some pervert who reeks of dirt!” You gestured your hand up and down at his dirty clothing. Beetlejuice lifted his coat sniffing at his armpits, jokingly scrunching his face in response.

You picked up the paper from earlier. Staring at the picture of the man in front of you sprawled out on a heart shaped bed. Never expecting that he would genuinely appear in front of you.

“So if saying your name three times summons you… does it also make you leave?” You cocked an eyebrow.

His expression dropped. Eyes widening and mouth hanging open slightly. “Oh— you don’t need to worry about all that,” he ripped the flyer from your hands. Ripping it into a million shreds comically fast.

“Betelgeuse—“

“No-NOPE,” he snapped his fingers. A padlock appeared over your mouth. Frustrating you as you clawed to get it off. “Please, I’ll be good,” he fell to his knees with his hands clasped together, walking over to you on them, “Just let me stay. I won’t cause no trouble. I’ll even keep any creeps away from bothering you!”

“You are the creep bothering me,” you thought unable to speak.

“You just can’t be throwing my name around like that,” he softly took one of your hands in his. Petting at your warm flesh, noticing how cold his was in comparison. You blushed at his tender gesture. Fighting off the soft spot you were already forming for him.

You locked eyes with him. Giant blue orbs stared up at you. Pleading for your sympathy. You rolled your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose unable to believe you were about to agree to this. You nodded your head at him.

“Promise?” He pointed at you.

You nodded again.

“Oh! I knew you’d come around, doll! We’re gonna have some fun together you and I—“ he snapped his fingers.

Your fingers flattened against your mouth, taking a deep breath when you realized your mouth was free again. You held your finger up to him, shaking it back and forth to stop his monologue. “Not too fast. If you’re going to stay here, you’re going to put in your fair share,” you held your finger in front of his face.

Beetlejuice pulled his pockets inside out. Some bugs, dirt, and an old condom wrapper fell out of them. Noticing a cartoon-like fly buzzing out of one of them too. “Uh. I don’t have any funds, hun,” he snickered up at you.

“You can use a broom,” you began walking away from him.

You heard him groan and stomp his food behind you.

“Betel—“

“OKAY! Okay— gotta be careful throwing those around, babes,” he ran up behind you. Following closely as you showed him around the house. Arms crossed over his chest as he was disinterested in what you had to say. Already pretty familiar with your home. You snapped your fingers in his face to get his attention.

“I expect you to help me around the house since you’ll be living here rent free. And you have to stay out of sight when I bring people over. No afterlife nonsense. I don’t want you scaring all my friends off,” you closed the laundry room door behind you. Sitting at the counter of your island. Flopping over into your arms.

He was infatuated by you. He had been pining for you for months now. And now here you were. Allowing him to move in with you. He could not focus on anything except that you were right in front of him. Seeing him. Not running away.

“Do we have a deal?” You pulled him out of his daze. Extending your hand so you could shake on it.

Beetlejuice smirked. Rotten, disgusting teeth painting his smile as he gleefully shook your hand. He pulled your hand to his lips, planting a soft kiss against your flesh.

You blushed at his flirting.

“You’re not gonna regret this! I’m nothing if not a man of my word. Now— thinking of rearranging some things,” Beetlejuice turned to face your living room. Snapping his fingers and changing the layout of your entire living room. Going on about feng shui of your living quarters.

Oh, man. This was going to be a hard adjustment.

~

[END//Part 2]

// Thank you so much for reading! I look forward to continuing this series. If you want to be tagged in the future let me know! //

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