Why Do Girls Hug Above The Shoulders

Her mutually high embrace is akin to a sun-kissed warm hug-- lovegirls will often hug with both hands above the shoulders because it is their intimate way of hugging. It brings them near to the heart of the boy, feeling its heat and making that instance tick like a machine. In that hug, they are absorbing the experience and carving it deep into their subconscious.

Drawing shoulders can be tricky, but with a little practice, you can totally grok it. Start sketching a base for the body: A circle for the head and then two lines for necks. As for the shoulders, think of them as half-circles extending out from the neck and Imagine them to be slopes protruding out of the neck. Then rough in the upper arms with more lines. When you've got the basic shape down, add in some more details - muscle definition, shading and so on. Much of this stuff is about perspective, so keep doing it and eventually you will improve.

There's a small, stubborn part of me that thinks hugs are one of the cleanest little miracles of human closeness. When my partner and I hug platonically—like that quick squeeze before I run out the door or the long, wordless wrap when one of us has had a rotten day—it's not about sex or romance in the explicit sense. It's about registering presence. I’ve noticed that a non-sexual hug can be a way to say, ‘I see you, you’re not alone,’ without the pressure of turning everything into a performance. It’s calming, practical, and oddly ritualistic in a comforting way. On a slightly nerdy note, there’s also biology at play: oxytocin and grounding contact reduce stress and make arguments less nuclear than they would be otherwise. Culturally, some of my friends and I come from families where physical affection was common and not romanticized, so hugging is just how we say care. Sometimes a hug helps reestablish boundaries too—by choosing a platonic form of touch, my partner and I can show affection while still respecting each other’s mood, consent, and the context (like being in public or around coworkers). I like that these platonic hugs let us have different flavors of intimacy in our relationship. We can be goofy, serious, tired, or silly and still connect without expectations. It’s a small habit that saves us from a lot of miscommunication, and honestly, I think it keeps the romance from calcifying into something that has to be dramatic all the time. It just feels human, simple, and kind.

I just finished 'Girls Like Girls' and absolutely loved the ending. The main characters, Coley and Sonya, go through so much emotional turmoil and self-discovery throughout the story. The ending feels earned and satisfying, with Coley finally embracing her feelings and choosing Sonya despite the societal pressures around them. Their relationship isn't perfect—there are still challenges—but the final scenes show them together, happy and committed. It's a hopeful ending that stays true to the messy, beautiful reality of young love. The author doesn't shy away from the complexities of queer relationships, but ultimately, it leaves you feeling warm and optimistic about their future.

I've been following 'Girls Like Girls' closely, and from what I've gathered, there hasn't been any official announcement about sequels yet. The story wraps up pretty neatly, but the author left a few subtle hints that could lead to more. The ending suggests potential growth for the side characters, especially Kira's best friend, who seemed to have her own unresolved arc. I'd love to see a spin-off exploring her journey or even a time jump showing how the main couple navigates adulthood. The fanbase is definitely hungry for more, and the author's social media teases keep hope alive. Until then, I recommend checking out 'Her Royal Highness' for a similar vibe—it's got that same sweet, angsty rom-com energy.

The main couples in 'Girls Like Girls' are Coley and Sonya, whose chemistry jumps off the page. Coley's this small-town girl trying to figure herself out while crushing hard on Sonya, the confident new girl who doesn’t care what anyone thinks. Their relationship starts as this slow burn—awkward glances, stolen moments, and that electric tension when their hands accidentally brush. What makes them special is how raw their emotions feel. Coley’s internal struggle with her sexuality clashes with Sonya’s ‘take me as I am’ attitude, creating this beautiful push-and-pull dynamic. The side couples add depth too, like Trent’s unrequited love for Coley and Kacey’s messy fling with Sonya, which amps up the drama. It’s a story where every glance and touch carries weight, and the central romance feels painfully real.

I remember checking this when I first got into the book. 'Girls Like Girls' was officially published on June 27, 2023. It's a pretty recent release, which explains why it's still buzzing in book circles. The author, Hayley Kiyoko, also known for her music, brought this YA novel to life with the same emotional depth as her songs. The timing was perfect—pride month vibes all around. If you're into contemporary LGBTQ+ stories with raw, heartfelt narratives, this one's a must-read. It's got that fresh, modern feel that resonates with today's readers.

In 'Final Girls', the term refers to three women—Quincy, Sam, and Lisa—who survived separate massacres and are bonded by trauma. Quincy is the most central, a baking blogger trying to forget her past as the lone survivor of a cabin massacre. Lisa, the first Final Girl, became a mentor figure but died under suspicious circumstances, leaving Quincy and Sam to uncover the truth. Sam is the wildcard, abrasive and haunted, her survival story involving a college spree killer. Their dynamic is tense but deeply intertwined. Quincy represents resilience through denial, burying her trauma under a curated life. Lisa symbolized hope until her death shattered that illusion. Sam embodies raw survival instinct, refusing to conform to societal expectations of victimhood. The novel explores how each woman copes (or fails to) with the 'Final Girl' label—a mix of public fascination and personal torment. Their shared identity becomes a trap, forcing confrontations with their pasts and each other.