#and like just because i don't post about them anymore

[slythernim]

I think it might be because people don't listen to their teachers anymore.

which is like... fair, really, because the quality of education standards, at least in the States, seems to have caught fire even relative to its low starting point (in a systemic way, I'm not necessarily saying any individual teacher is at fault for doing what they've been told is the scientifically proven correct way to do most right by their students, though certainly many of them are at fault for being power tripping assholes who don't think schoolchildren are people) and the burnt ashen remnants have lost control of their classrooms. (partly, as I understand it, because teaching has become an increasingly lower status job and parents feel more entitled to push back/complain/cause problems if their child ever receives a bad grade regardless of whether that grade is/was justified, and partly because school grades have become so insanely life-threatening that even many good, reasonable people feel like they have to to do that and if their kid, as the obvious and natural result of this, doesn't actually learn anything, they can fix it in post, as it were)

teachers used to tell us not to cite Wikipedia as a source, and they could meaningfully enforce that because they could see the citations list we submitted, so we had to actually learn to read and cite sources. now kids get told not to use the hallucination machine and they all hear it in the exact same voice that says they need a permission slip to use the bathroom and five minus eight is undefined because we're not in the part of the curriculum where you're allowed to know about negative numbers yet, and half the adults they know are using it too, and they know that every tool that purports to detect whether generative AI has been used in the writing of an essay has been comically even less accurate than the generative AI, so obviously this must just be another bullshit power trip and not really a problem, right.

which is really a shame because there's ... not zero valid tool uses of the hallucination machine? (brainstorming, unsticking an exdys failure to start a first draft, it's probably a pretty good rubber duck...) and if the system were functioning these kids would probably be learning actually useful skills that way, like how many of us learned to "get around" the no Wikipedia rule by using Wikipedia and then consulting its bibliography, which maps very neatly to the healthy, useful academic habit of reading an article and then browsing its citations list for follow-up reading.

but instead. well. [gestures broadly at everything]

[myinaru]

Childhood Best Friend Complex

You and Heeseung have been best friends forever. Emphasis on forever. Like, learned-how-to-walk-together type of forever. But college throws a wrench into your usual routine: one night blurs a line that was never supposed to move, and suddenly, everything feels different. Now there’s weird tension, awkward silences, and unspoken things you’re both too stubborn to say out loud. You don’t know what’s worse, pretending nothing’s changed or admitting everything has. Because staying friends? That was always the plan. Wanting more? That was never supposed to happen.

Pairing: Lee Heeseung x Fem!Reader

Genre: College AU, Childhood Best Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Smut, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 39.6k Total (14.4k - Part 1)

Warnings: Dry humping (hell yeah), Corny maybe idc, Lots of misunderstanding, Mentions of multiple kpop idols, Cursing, Cunnilingus, Unprotected sex (pls don't), Praising, Heeseung is a yearner, Lmk if I missed anything lol

Author's Note: First time uploading here lol. This fic was heavily inspired by the manhwa/webtoon Childhood Friend Complex. I'll be splitting it into three parts since Tumblr won't let me post it in one go. Hope y'all enjoy T-T

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You and Heeseung had spent twenty chaotic years crashing into each other. Bickering, teasing, arguing like it was your first language. Now, you were slumped on the floor of his dorm, drunk and quiet, knees touching, the air between you strangely charged.

Heeseung didn’t move much. Just watched you with wide, unreadable eyes. His hand crept toward yours slowly, like even the thought of reaching for you was too loud. His fingers brushed yours. Then stopped.

His breath hit your cheek. It was warm. Uneven. And then, in the softest voice you’d ever heard from him, he said, “Do you... want to kiss?”

No smirk. No teasing. Just fear, and something he couldn’t hide fast enough. He’d never say it unless he thought you might say yes. Because if you didn’t, he wouldn’t know how to come back from it.

You froze, confused. “You’re drunk,” you said with a nervous laugh, nudging his arm.

Heeseung’s expression tightened. A flash of hurt crossed his face before he forced a laugh, too sharp to be real. “Yeah, I’m drunk. Fuck, Y/n. You really think...” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“Forget it. Stupid idea.”

He started to pull away, but his reflexes were off. His knee bumped into yours, and he hissed. More from the weight of rejection than pain. “Fuck. Stupid,” he muttered, catching himself against the wall. His eyes narrowed. “What’s your problem? Why are you... you never... God, forget it.”

You furrowed your brows, head spinning slightly. You grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving.

He stiffened at your touch, breathing heavily. For a moment, he just stared at you, searching your face like he was trying to read every single thought behind your eyes. His hand twitched in yours, like he wanted to pull you close but was holding back.

“Don’t play games with me,” he said softly, dangerously quiet. “Not tonight. Not after...” He swallowed hard. “God, Y/n. If you keep looking at me like that, I don’t know if I can...”

He broke off with a strangled sound, forehead leaning against yours. “Tell me I’m being stupid,” he whispered. “Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me it’s just the alcohol.”

You swallowed. “It might be the alcohol... but I’m not telling you I don’t want it. I don’t even know what I’m talking about anymore... Can’t we just not regret this tomorrow?”

He went still. His heart felt like it stopped before thundering back to life. “That... that’s not—I mean...” he stammered, hands trembling slightly as he brought them to your face. His thumbs gently stroked your cheekbones. “Are you serious right now?”

His voice was rough, thick with emotion he rarely let show. His eyes searched yours intently, looking for any trace of hesitation. “Because if this is real... if you actually want...” He swallowed again. “Shit, Y/n. You have no idea what you do to me.”

You didn’t answer with words. You leaned in and kissed him.

The moment your lips met, he let out a shaky gasp. His hands moved to your hair, fingers tangling as he kissed you back with a desperate intensity. It was messy, passionate, tongue and teeth, hunger barely held back.

A small moan escaped him, muffled against your lips. His body pressed flush to yours, fitting like a puzzle piece that had always been missing. One of his hands slid to the small of your back, fingers digging into your shirt as he pulled you closer.

When you broke apart for air, he was panting, eyes dark with desire. He rested his forehead against yours.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that. How many times I’ve imagined it,” he said.

You smirked, resting your finger against his lips. “Don’t say anything you’ll regret tomorrow.”

He nipped at your finger lightly, his teeth grazing the skin. His eyes locked with yours, full of heat and promise.

“No regrets,” he murmured. “Not tonight. Not with you.”

Then he kissed you again, hard. His hands slid to your hips, gripping tightly as he pulled you onto his lap. The position pressed your bodies together, and he groaned into your mouth.

“I want you,” he breathed, voice ragged. “I want you so fucking much, Y/n. Want to feel you, taste you, make you mine.” His hands slipped under your shirt, fingers brushing over your bare back. His lips found your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin.

You mirrored his touch, sliding your hand down his chest, feeling the toned muscle beneath. As you moved closer, you felt his erection press against you.

Heeseung sucked in a breath. His muscles tensed under your fingers. When you rolled your hips against his, his reaction was immediate, hips bucking, breath catching. “Y/n…” he groaned. “That feels so good. You’re killing me.” His hands held your hips tighter, guiding your movements, slow and deliberate. You could feel every hard inch of him, even through the layers.

“I bet you’d look so pretty riding me,” he panted into your neck, kissing along your throat. “Bet you’d take me so well. I want to feel you squeeze around me. Fall apart on my dick.” One hand came up to cup your breast, fingers kneading the soft flesh through your bra.

You let out a shaky breath, grinding harder.

He let out a low growl of appreciation, helping you move against him. “That’s it. Take what you need. Fuck, the way you move...” His thumb brushed over your nipple through the fabric, sending heat straight to your core. He pinched and rolled it, his other hand still firm on your hip. “I want to watch you fall apart,” he murmured. “Want to hear you moan my name.”

Your head fell onto his shoulder as you whimpered his name, picking up the pace.

Heeseung gasped, thrusting up to meet you. “Yes, just like that. Fuck, you feel so good. So perfect. Such a good girl for me.” His hand slid up your back and into your hair, tugging gently. The other dipped into your pants, under your underwear, gripping your ass firmly. “If you keep doing that,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear, “I’m gonna come in my pants.”

You smirked. “That’s honestly a turn on.”

He shuddered, overwhelmed. He looked at you, eyes dark and blown wide. “It is? You like knowing how much I want you?” He ground against you harder, letting you feel every inch of him. “Because I’m so fucking close. You’re gonna make me explode in these jeans.” His thumb pressed against your clit, slow circles over your underwear. “Think you can make me come like this? Grinding until I lose it? Bet you’d love feeling me twitch against your pretty pussy.”

You bit your lip, meeting his rhythm. “I know you’ll cum for me. You always do what I tell you, don’t you? Just like the good little boy you are.”

Heeseung let out a strangled moan, body seizing. “Oh fuck...Y/n... I’m cumming!” He buried his face in your neck, biting down on your shoulder to muffle the cry. His cock pulsed and twitched, hot release soaking his pants as he clung to you. Your name fell from his lips in broken whimpers.

You came with him, body shuddering, head falling to his shoulder. “Ngh... fuck... so tired...” you mumbled.

Heeseung smiled, exhausted but content. He held you close, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. He shifted, laying back on the bed and pulling you with him. After dressing you in spare clothes, he cleaned himself up and returned to curl beside you.

He watched you sleep, your face peaceful, before sleep took him too. Still half-drunk, halfaware.

The screeching of your alarm feels like a knife in your skull. You reach for your phone, slapping it down with a groan, but the damage is done. Your head’s pounding, and it feels like the world’s spinning under you.

Beside you, Heeseung groans, the sound muffled by the pillow he’s half-smothered in. “Ugh. Shut it up,” he mutters, flinging his arm over his face like it’ll save him.

You don’t even have the energy to respond. Your hand moves instinctively to your forehead, trying to ease the ache that feels like it’s about to split your brain in two.

Heeseung shifts, throwing his arm away from his eyes. He squints at you through the haze, his face scrunched up in discomfort. “Oh my god,” he groans dramatically, his voice barely more than a croak. “I think I might actually die today.”

You don’t even respond at first. Your mind is too busy reeling, trying to piece together what the hell happened last night. It’s like watching a movie in slow motion, the details fading in and out.

And then, bam. It all comes rushing back.

You dry-humped your best friend.

You don't even know where to begin. Last night was a blur of alcohol and hormones and bad decisions. Your hands on his chest. His breath hitching. Your bodies moving together in the dim light. His voice in your ear. Your best friend, your dumb, sweet, annoying, beautiful best friend had his hands all over you.

And you… let him.

No.

You wanted him to.

You groan again, burying a pillow over your face.

“What’s wrong with you?” Heeseung mutters, still not fully opening his eyes.

“What’s wrong with me?” You yank the pillow away and look at him. “What the hell was last night, Heeseung?”

That gets his attention. He blinks at you like a deer in headlights. “Oh shit.”

“Yeah. Oh shit.”

He bolts upright, sheets falling away. “Wait- we didn’t, right? We didn’t actually-?” He gestures wildly.

“No!” you say too fast. “God, no. But we… we dry humped each other for, like, an hour, on the floor.”

Heeseung flops back, groaning into the pillow now. “Kill me. Just end it. Right here. I’ll leave you my gaming chair in my will.”

You toss a pillow at him, hitting him square in the face.

“You started it!” you snap.

“You climbed on top of me!”

“You pulled me down!”

“You were grinding!”

“You moaned!”

Heeseung yelps, shoving the pillow into his face. “Shut up!”

The pillow shifts just enough for him to peek at you. His eyes are wide, like a deer caught in headlights.

“I didn’t even-” he blurts. A beat. Then quieter: “Well, maybe.”

He lets the pillow fall into his lap, deflating like a kicked balloon. “God. That was so stupid. So, so stupid. What do we even do now?”

You wince at the memory of what you said last night. Every detail’s still painfully vivid. “Well... we said no regrets, right?” Your voice comes out careful, uncertain. “We agreed.”

Heeseung goes quiet for a moment, eyes scanning the floor. Then he gives a small nod, like he’s trying to convince himself.

“Right. No regrets.”

He rubs a hand through his hair, only making the mess worse. “So... we’re good? Still friends and everything?”

“Only if you swear, we never mention the phrase ‘dry-humped’ in front of each other again.”

“Deal.” His voice wavers, just enough to give him away. “Because honestly, if we’re not anymore, I might actually combust right here.”

You snort, reaching for the nearest pillow and tossing it at him. “You’re so dramatic. I’m not gonna throw away twenty years of friendship just because we almost-”

Your voice catches. You clear your throat and stand up instead. You only realize then, you’re wearing his hoodie. Not yours. Definitely not yours. It hangs oversized on your frame, soft and warm. You glance at yourself in the mirror, cheeks flushing.

Heeseung catches on too, eyes widening. “Oh, uh- yeah. Sorry about the clothes. You would have been sleeping in your outside clothes and I blurred out and just- gave you that. I didn’t look. I swear.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Sure.”

He makes a strangled noise and looks away. “Okay, well, want breakfast or something? I heard food helps with hangovers.”

You take one last glance at yourself in the mirror before nodding. “Thanks, by the way. I didn’t bring pajamas, so… appreciate it.” You point toward the bathroom. “Can I shower here?”

Heeseung nods quickly, still red in the face. “Yeah. Of course. Towels are in the cabinet under the sink. Shampoo and stuff’s in there too.”

You start walking past him, and he inhales, just a little too deeply. You catch it. His laundry soap mixed with your perfume lingers between you.

“Hey,” he says suddenly, stopping you just before you disappear into the bathroom. His voice softens. “About last night… I’m glad it didn’t mess anything up. You’re sickeningly important to me or whatever, Y/n.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, ignoring how your stomach flips at how disgustingly earnest he says your name.

“Me too,” you reply. “It’d be a waste to throw twenty years down the drain over one really… weird night.”

Heeseung exhales, like he’s been holding that breath all morning. “Exactly. Besides,” he adds, a small smile forming, “who else would put up with me and feed me when I’m too hungover to move?”

You roll your eyes, though the corner of your mouth lifts. “You’re such a loser.”

“Yeah, well, you love it,” he retorts with a laugh, clearly relieved. “Now go take your shower before the water goes cold, princess.”

You snicker as you close the door behind you. “Stop calling me that! You’re so fucking weird when you’re nice.”

Heeseung’s laughter rings out from the other side of the door. “I can’t believe you’re still talking back while you’re in the bathroom. What kind of weirdo are you?”

You hear him flop onto the bed again as the shower water turns on, his voice muffled by the bathroom door. “I can’t believe I dry-humped my best friend. Classic Heeseung,” he mutters to himself, clearly still cringing.

After about twenty minutes, you both finished getting ready, falling into silence, moving like you had been doing this forever. You didn’t talk much, just small comments and glances over breakfast before going to the university together.

By the time you reached campus, there was barely any time left before classes started.

Without much choice, the two of you split ways. Different departments, different buildings. Still, that parting tugged at something. Maybe it was how reluctant Heeseung looked, or the way his eyes lingered a second too long.

Heeseung, for his part, couldn’t focus all day.

His professors might as well have been speaking gibberish. He found himself zoning out midlecture, thumb absentmindedly grazing the edge of his notebook as images of last night kept flashing in his mind. The way your voice softened when you were sleepy. The heat of your skin when you leaned too close.

He was still stuck in that daze by lunchtime, hovering near the cafeteria entrance with his tray in hand, eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. You were seated by the window, halfheartedly poking your food with your expression unreadable. He hesitated.

Should he join you? Would that be weird?

After a moment of internal chaos, he sucked it up and walked over, plopping down across from you like it was no big deal.

"Hey," he said, voice casual but eyes hesitant. "Didn’t know if you wanted company. Didn’t wanna be annoying."

You didn’t even look up right away, just poked at your food with a spoon. Then you smirked. “I was literally looking for you earlier. Then I gave up 'cause I got lazy." He blinked in surprise. That made his shoulders relax just a little.

"You know," you added, finally meeting his eyes, "what’s with you lately? You’re acting weird. You’re never this... nice. It’s freaking me out."

Heeseung sat up straighter, hand pausing mid-bite. "I’m not nice? Wow, okay. Maybe I’m just trying something new. Ever thought of that?"

"There he is," you said with a laugh, reaching across the table to pat his shoulder a little too hard. "There’s the asshole I grew up with. Thought I lost you for a second."

Heeseung winced and rubbed his shoulder. "Ow. You trying to dislocate my arm? Damn. You're lucky I even tolerate you. Especially with that garbage personality of yours."

But you caught it, that flicker in his eyes when you touched him, even briefly. The twitch of his lips he tried to suppress when you teased him back.

Things might’ve continued that way, comfortable, familiar. If only Jay hadn’t suddenly flopped into the seat next to Heeseung.

"Dude. Be real with me. Are you dating her or what?"

Your fork froze mid-air. Heeseung choked on his water.

"What?! No- what are you-" He looked between you and Jay, a bit panicked. "We’re just friends! Why would you even-?"

Jay shrugged. "I mean, the way you two bicker like an old married couple? Come on. And the rumors are already everywhere."

You raised a brow, glancing at Heeseung. "Who in their right mind would think I’d date him?"

"Excuse you," Heeseung shot back, glaring. "I’d rather shove my head in a blender than date some clingy, passive-aggressive- ow, god!" He hissed as you kicked him under the table.

Jay just watched with a grin. "You two are exhausting."

Then his grin widened as he leaned closer to Heeseung. "But since you’re not dating her, does that mean Jung Yeri’s got a shot with you?"

You blinked. That name made your stomach do something unfamiliar and ugly.

Heeseung visibly tensed. "What? Why are you even-?"

"Dude," Jay laughed. "She’s been all over you. Pretty sure half the class already thinks you two are a thing."

Right on cue, a girl that looked suspiciously like Jung Yeri sauntered by. She tossed Heeseung a slow, deliberate wink before settling at a table nearby.

Jay elbowed him again. "Go talk to her! You’re blowing it!"

But Heeseung looked like he’d just been cornered by a wild animal.

You tried not to laugh. Honestly, you really tried. But your hand twitched and your lips curled as you bit down on the inside of your cheek. It was a struggle not to smirk as you watched him flail.

"I- no," Heeseung said abruptly, voice sharper than he meant. "I’m not into her."

Jay blinked. "Seriously? She’s not your type?"

Heeseung let out a strangled sound, running his hand through his hair. "She’s fine, I guess, but I’m not... I do not like. I’m already-"

His eyes flicked toward you, just briefly.

"...interested in someone else."

Your hand paused on your tray. You glanced up at him, lips parting slightly, but you said nothing.

Jay, of course, was relentless. "What? Since when?! Who?"

Heeseung mumbled something, but it was too low for anyone to catch.

Jay leaned closer. "Huh?"

Heeseung snapped, "It’s none of your business!"

You finally cracked. The laugh escaped before you could catch it, loud and unfiltered. You covered your mouth, turning your head, shoulders shaking.

Heeseung glared. "What’s so funny?!"

Jay smirked like the puzzle pieces finally clicked. "Wait a second... it’s her, isn’t it? You’ve got it bad for Y/n."

Heeseung nearly choked on his drink again. "What?! No!" he barked. "I don’t like her like that!" You only laughed harder, tears starting to prick your eyes from holding it in.

Jay turned to you. "Is that true? You two really aren’t into each other?"

You wiped your eyes with your sleeve, calming down enough to deadpan, "The only day I’d be into him is if the world ended and we were the last people alive."

Heeseung’s smirk wobbled for a second. "Right back at you. I’d rather eat glass than date you."

Jay shook his head and stood. "Y’all are full of it. Anyway, I’ve got class. Try not to murder each otherwhile I’m gone."

Once he left, the tension stayed behind. Quieter, but heavier somehow.

You leaned in. “Really? You like someone who’s not Yeri?”

Heeseung stiffened, his eyes darting to yours. He opened his mouth, closed it, then scowled and looked away.

“Why do you care?” he muttered. “It’s not like it matters.”

You grinned. “Are you sure Yeri isn’t this mystery lady you secretly like?”

“Oh God, no way!” he blurted, then winced. “I mean, she’s… not my type. At all.”

He picked at his rice like it offended him. “I don’t even know why you’re asking. It’s not like I’m going to tell you who it is.”

You shrugged, standing to set your tray aside. “Do whatever you want. Although…” you smirked as you leaned your chin on your palm, “I do hope your virgin ass finally gets laid.” Heeseung’s head snapped up. “EXCUSE ME?!” he nearly yelled.

Everyone turned. He ducked down, voice hissing now. “I am not a virgin! And even if I was, that’s none of your business!” He crossed his arms. “Besides, you’re one to talk. When’s the last time you even went on a date?”

Your smile fell. “Hey! For your information, I’m actually set to go on a group date with my friends this Friday.”

His expression darkened instantly. “A group date?” he reiterated. “Since when are you into that kind of thing? I thought you hated crowds.” He leaned closer, tone sharp. “And who exactly are you going with? Do I know them? Are they even decent people?”

You crossed your arms. “Why do you care? And besides, it’s about time my miserable ass gets a boyfriend.”

Heeseung’s hands tightened around the edge of the table. He forced a laugh, bitter, hollow. “Yeah. Good luck with that. Let me know how that works out for you.”

Then, he stood up, abruptly, chair scraping loudly behind him. His tray clattered as he grabbed it. “I have to go. Class starts soon.”

You frowned. “Hey-”

But he was already walking away.

You blinked, confused. “You don’t even have afternoon classes today…” You shook your head, carrying your tray to the bin. You frowned as you watched him storm off, tray in hand and tension radiating from every step.

The doors clattered shut behind him.

You stood there for a few seconds, tray still in your hands, like your brain hadn’t caught up to your body yet. Heeseung never walked away from an argument. He lived for comebacks, lived for that smug look he always wore when he got the last word.

So why now?

You blinked, startled by the tight knot forming in your chest. Was it something you said? You turned slowly toward the trash bins, tossing your leftovers away, but your mind wasn’t really on autopilot like it usually was. You weren’t thinking about your next class. Not even about what Jay said or how half the cafeteria had stared at you when Heeseung yelled about not being a virgin.

No, all your thoughts were stuck back at the table. Replaying the way his eyes darkened when you brought up the group date. The way his jaw tensed. That laugh that wasn’t a real laugh, more like something brittle, something breaking.

And then he’d left. Just… walked out.

You stood by the bins, fingers loosely gripping the edge, your tray empty but your head full of noise. The kind of silence that rings in your ears when everything around you moves on and you’re just… stuck.

You leaned against the counter, letting out a slow breath as your thoughts started spiraling.

Why was he upset?

Sure, you teased him. You always did. That wasn’t new. Neither was him teasing back.

But this time…this time he’d gotten weirdly defensive. About Yeri. About you going on a date. About everything, really.

He always called you annoying, or brat, or headache, but he’d never looked angry. Not like that.

Not like someone who was… hurt.

You stared at the floor.

And then it hit you, an idea awfully insane, and kind of stupid.

He was acting jealous.

The word lodged itself in your brain like a splinter.

No. No way. That didn’t make sense. This was Heeseung. He’d rather die than admit he liked anyone. Heeseung, who called you a cockroach just last week when you stole his fries.

Heeseung, who once said he’d sooner become a monk than date you.

Still, you couldn’t shake it.

That look in his eyes when you joked about finally getting a boyfriend.

That silence.

The way he’d refused to look at you when he said, “Yeah. Good luck with that.”

You slowly made your way out of the cafeteria, feet dragging more than usual. Your fingers were twitchy, like they wanted to text him, but you couldn’t even think of what you’d say.

And still, that question kept circling back in your head.

Annoying. Shitty. Question.

He’s not… jealous… is he?

Heeseung didn’t even remember how he got back to his dorm. One second he was standing in the cafeteria, hearing you joke about getting a boyfriend, and the next he was outside, walking blindly through campus with his fists jammed deep in his pockets.

The cold didn't help. If anything, it made his thoughts sharper, more jagged.

It's about time my miserable ass gets a boyfriend. He could still hear it. Like a punchline he wasn’t in on.

He kicked a stray rock across the sidewalk, watching it bounce into the bushes.

“Stupid,” he muttered, jaw clenched. “So fucking stupid.”

He didn’t know what pissed him off more, the thought of you with some guy from that group date or the fact that he had no right to be this upset in the first place. You weren’t his. You never had been.

But that didn’t stop his chest from tightening every time he imagined you laughing with someone else. Sitting beside him. Holding his hand.

Heeseung cursed under his breath as he shoved his dorm room door open and slammed it shut behind him. He let himself fall face-first onto his bed, eyes burning holes into the ceiling.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Not after everything that happened.

Not after that night.

Your lips. The way you melted into him. The way your hands gripped his hoodie like you didn’t want to let go.

He let out a groan and buried his face into his pillow.  

What the hell were you even thinking?

He wanted to text you. Apologize maybe. Pretend it didn’t matter. But every time he picked up his phone, his thumbs froze, and the words disappeared.

So instead, he just laid there. Let the ache sit with him like it had every night since.

You walked into class like you were wearing a mask.

Blouse tucked in. Skirt straightened. Smile tight.

Everything looked fine from the outside. But inside? Your brain had been on a loop for hours, trying to make sense of what the hell had just happened with Heeseung.

You told yourself it wasn’t a big deal. Friends fight. You probably just hit a nerve. Maybe he was stressed. Maybe you’d said something wrong.

Maybe-

“Earth to Y/n.”

You blinked, startled, as Vicky waved her hand in front of your face.

“You've been staring at your notebook like it's gonna write itself,” she said with a giggle. “Everything okay?”

You forced a smile. “Uhm… yeah. Just thinking about... things.”

Vicky raised an eyebrow. “Things,” she repeated. “Uh-huh. Right. Like how you’ve been zoning out since you sat down. Does this have anything to do with that guy you’re always with?”

Your smile froze. “What- Heeseung? No, why would-”

She gasped softly. “Oh my god, it is about him.”

Before you could argue, she clapped her hands excitedly. “Perfect timing! Don’t forget, our group blind date’s this Friday. You have to invite him. I bet he'd totally get along with my friends. Or maybe you two can date each other and pretend it's a blind date.”

You stiffened. “Woah, slow down. Heeseung and I? That’s… we’re like family. Literally. I’ve known him since I was in diapers.”

Vicky pouted, clearly unimpressed. “That’s a shame. You guys would be stupid cute together.” You rolled your eyes, but the weird twist in your gut didn’t go away.

“And hey,” she added teasingly, voice low, “if you’re really not interested… is he fair game?” You whipped your head toward her so fast your hair slapped your shoulder.

Vicky laughed nervously, holding her hands up. “Kidding! Kidding. I know better than to go after someone you’re protective of.”

You turned back to your notes, pretending to write something. But the words blurred together.

Why did that bother you so much?

Heeseung could date whoever he wanted. You didn’t care. You shouldn’t care. And yet the thought of him sitting next to some girl on Friday made you want to scream.

It didn’t make sense.

Your fingers gripped your pen tighter.

The rest of the class passed in a haze. Vicky tossing in ideas for venues and flirty outfit suggestions while you nodded absently, stuck inside your own head.

By the time you got home, the sun was already setting, casting warm shadows on your walls.

You dropped your bag on the couch and kicked off your shoes, but something soft hit your thigh as you moved.

You reached in and pulled out the fabric.

Heeseung’s hoodie.

Of course.

You exhaled slowly, running your fingers across the soft sleeves. It still smelled like him. Laundry detergent and something warm underneath.

You didn’t want to see him. Not yet. Not when your heart still felt like it was in a blender and you didn’t know why.

But now you had an excuse to. And that irritated you more than it should.

“Whatever,” you muttered, tossing it in the laundry and pretending like that settled something.

It didn’t.

The next few days passed like molasses. Slow. Heavy. Tense.

Neither of you texted.

Neither of you reached out.

You kept telling yourself that was fine. That this wasn’t weird. That everything was totally normal.

But it wasn’t.

Every time your phone buzzed; your heart jumped. Every time it wasn’t him, it sank.

Heeseung was the same. Pretending he was busy. Pretending he wasn’t checking his phone every ten minutes. Pretending he didn’t care that the hoodie you wore while falling asleep in his arms was gone.

Denial was easier.

Until Friday rolled around. The day of the group date.

And neither of you could deny anything anymore.

The day of the group blind date crawled by, but you felt the weight of it like a countdown.

You spent the morning aimlessly cleaning, second-guessing your outfit, and chewing on your lip as you stared at your phone. Still no text. Not that you expected one. Not really.

Meanwhile, somewhere across campus, Heeseung was pretending to be busy. Doing laps around his dorm, rearranging laundry that was already folded, and slamming his fridge shut multiple times for no reason. Every task he did had one purpose: stalling.

Eventually, he couldn’t stop himself.

You heard the doorbell just as you were zipping up your boots. When you opened it, your breath hitched.

There he was, standing stiffly outside your apartment, a black tote bag dangling from one hand. He looked like he didn’t want to be there, and also like he’d explode if he didn’t show up.

“Hey,” he muttered, avoiding your eyes. “You left your clothes. From that night.”

You blinked, confused for a second, then glanced down at the bag. Your cheeks warmed. “Oh. Right.” You stepped back, your voice smaller than intended. “Thanks... wait here a sec.”

You ducked inside, grabbing his pajamas off your bed and stuffing them into the bag. When you returned, he was still standing there, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets.

“Thanks for lending me this too,” you mumbled, holding out the bag again.

Heeseung nodded, his jaw tight. He took it wordlessly. His fingers brushed yours. Then, after a beat too long, he said, “You look…”

He didn’t finish right away. His gaze dropped again. To the dress. The earrings. Your exposed collarbone.

“You look nice.” The words left his mouth like he hated them. “For your date, I mean.” He cleared his throat, jaw working. “Have fun or whatever.” You froze.

“Oh. Uh. Thanks.”

He shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable. Like there was something else he wanted to say but didn’t know how.

“I should go,” he said, turning away. “Don’t want to make you late.”

“Yeah. Thanks again.”

He nodded and walked off, leaving you staring at the closed door, mentally cursing yourself for not saying more.

You stared at the shut door for a long moment, biting the inside of your cheek. It felt like something important had been said. And also, like nothing had.

By the time your Uber pulled up, your nerves had twisted into a tight coil behind your ribs. You tried to shake it off as you headed to the restaurant. But that all flew out the window the second you walked through the doors.

Because standing near the entrance, tray in hand, was Heeseung.

Your jaw dropped. “You? Wait. You work here?”

His eyes went wide as they landed on you, like you’d just punched him in the gut. “Y/n-? Yeah. Part-time.”

“You never told me-”

“I did,” he muttered, flushing and avoiding your gaze. “Maybe you just didn’t listen.”

You blinked, thrown off. “Since when?”

“Since-… whatever.” His voice was clipped, like he was trying too hard to act unaffected. “Needed the money. Free food. Don’t make it a big deal.”

Before you could respond, someone from the back called out: “Lee! Table 7!”

He exhaled through his nose, already turning away. “Gotta go. Enjoy your date.”

And just like that, he was gone again. Vanishing between tables, his apron swaying as he moved. You barely had time to process it when Vicky waved you over. She was already seated with another girl you knew, makeup perfect, and surrounded by three guys. One of whom slid a drink toward you as you sat down.

The night crawled forward.

Your date was… fine.

Well, there wasn’t anything wrong with him. He was cute. Tall. Had that clean-cut kind of look, the kind you’re supposed to want. The kind that makes your friends nudge you under the table and whisper “Okay, not bad.” And he was nice, in a way that felt... practiced? Like he knew exactly what to say and when to say it. Smiled on cue. Laughed when he was supposed to. Asked questions, but only the easy ones, your major, your favorite movie, if you liked dogs or cats. Surface-level stuff. Like we were speedrunning a personality quiz.

You nodded. Smiled. Even laughed a few times. But it didn’t feel like anything.

The whole time, your brain kept running in circles. You kept comparing everything he did to Heeseung, without meaning to. Without even realizing I was doing it at first.

Like when he leaned in and grinned that too-perfect smile? All you could think about was how Heeseung’s smile was kind of lopsided and usually only came out when he was genuinely amused. The real kind. The one where his nose scrunches a little and he tries to hide it behind his hand like it’s embarrassing.

Or when your date started talking about his internship and humblebragging like it was his whole personality. Meanwhile, Heeseung would rather choke than talk about himself like that. He’s so annoying about hiding how hard he works, like it’s something to be ashamed of. But at least when he says something, you know it means something.

And then there was this moment. God, it was so dumb, when your date reached across the table and tried to brush something off your sleeve, real casual. Like in the dramas. Except it didn’t feel sweet. It felt…wrong.

Because your first instinct wasn’t butterflies.

It was Heeseung would’ve made fun of me first.

He would’ve been like, “You wore that? You look like you lost a bet.” And then when you’d pout and hit his arm, he’d sneakily fix whatever it was while you were distracted. That was just how we were.

But this guy? He kept making these flirty comments toward Vicky like you weren’t sitting right there. At one point, he asked her what kind of guys she liked, while you were talking midsentence. Like, what are you? A chair?

And you just sat there, drinking your watered-down cocktail, smiling through your teeth while your insides twisted into knots.

Because the real reason you weren’t having fun?

Wasn’t the bad flirting.

Wasn’t the recycled jokes.

Wasn’t the fact that you had more chemistry with the damn napkin holder.

It was because he wasn’t Heeseung.

He didn’t get under your skin the same way. He didn’t make your heartbeat stumble just by looking in your direction. He didn’t have that stupid habit of calling you by a nickname only he could get away with. He didn’t make you want to argue just so you could hear him talk back.

He didn’t make you feel like yourself.

And maybe that was the scariest part. Sitting across from someone perfectly decent, someone that everyone else would probably think is a catch, and realizing that the only person you wanted to talk to about it... was the same person you were trying so hard not to think about.

And it sucked. Because you didn’t know what that meant.

Not really.

You just knew you were halfway through a third drink, laughing at jokes that weren’t funny, smiling at a guy who wasn’t him. And the whole time, your eyes kept drifting to where Heeseung was working across the room.

Not looking at you once.

And that’s when it hit you.

Maybe he was trying not to look too.

By the time dessert came around, you were on your fifth glass of whatever fruity cocktail they'd ordered for you. The alcohol was warm in your stomach, and your thoughts were a slow spin cycle. You laughed at your date’s joke, but it didn’t reach your eyes. It didn’t reach your heart.

Because part of you was still stuck at your front door, with Heeseung not saying what you both knew he wasn’t ready to admit.

When the night finally wound down, the group staggered toward the exit. You tried to play it cool, but your legs were shaky and your head swam.

You didn’t even notice you were stumbling until a hand grabbed your arm.

“Hey, watch it.” Heeseung’s voice, low and sharp with concern, cut through the noise like a tether. “You’re seriously drunk.”

You looked up at him, lips pouting as your balance wobbled again. “The date sucked,” you mumbled. “He was annoying.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow. “You were laughing. You looked fine.”

“I wasn’t.”

He cursed under his breath and guided you to a bench near the side of the restaurant. You slumped down, grateful for something solid. He knelt in front of you, one hand on your knee to steady himself. “What happened?” he asked, quieter now. “Did he do something?”

You shook your head lazily. “No, just...”  

There was a long pause, way too long like your brain and your heart were fighting against each other.

“He wasn’t you.” Ah. Now we know who won.

The words fell out before you could stop them, and the way his expression shifted for just a fraction of a second told you he didn’t expect that. But Heeseung quickly masked it, shrugging nonchalantly, like it didn’t matter.

“Right,” he muttered, almost too quickly. “Well, you’re really drunk. Don’t go saying weird stuff.” He stood up slightly, glancing at the rest of the group in the distance, then back at you.

You didn’t want to let it slide. “You’re acting different,” you mumbled, your eyes narrowing as you stared up at him, trying to focus. “You’re being... too considerate. Like I’m someone special, and I don’t like it.”

Heeseung’s eyes flickered to yours, an unreadable expression crossing his face for a moment. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something but hesitated, as if weighing his words carefully. “I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay,” he said, voice quieter, a little more strained than usual. “You’re barely keeping yourself upright. What do you want me to do, huh?”

You didn’t back down. “I want you to stop being nice,” you said, your voice slurred but clear enough. “It’s confusing. You’re supposed to be a jerk.”

There was a long, tense pause, and you almost didn’t notice it, but the way his face softened for just a second made your heart skip. He stood there, his posture stiff, but his eyes were searching yours, something vulnerable flickering behind his usual mask.

“Why?” His voice was barely above a whisper, and you could tell it caught him off guard. “Why does it bother you?”

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or just the raw honesty of the moment, but you decided to let the words spill before you could stop them.

“Because if you keep being nice to me like this... I might-” you murmured, the weight of the confession crashing over you as the words slipped out. “I might actually start liking you.”

The silence that followed felt almost suffocating. Heeseung froze, his expression unreadable. You felt your body sag with the realization of what you’d just said, and the alcohol finally hit you like a wave. Your vision blurred as your head dropped back against the bench, and before you could even process the weight of your own words, your body gave out.

You didn’t even hear Heeseung call your name. You just felt his hands steadying you, but everything went black.

Everything that followed was a haze.

You didn’t remember falling asleep. Didn’t remember being moved. But when your eyes blinked open, the light stung a little, and you were surrounded by something familiar, but not yours.

It took a second to realize you were in Heeseung’s bed.

You were curled up on top of his thin comforter, a lighter blanket tossed over your shoulders like an afterthought. His scent lingered faintly on the pillow beneath you. It smelled like clean laundry, hints of shampoo, and something distinctly him. The room was dim, lit only by the soft morning light peeking through slatted blinds.

Across the room, you spotted him, Heeseung, sitting at his desk, back to you, headphones on as he typed slowly on his laptop. His hair was still a mess, sticking out in places. He was wearing the same hoodie from the night before.

You shifted slightly, and that was all it took.

He immediately swiveled around in his chair. Headphones off, brows pulled together. “Hey,” he said, voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Hey, easy. Don’t sit up too fast.”

He was already kneeling by the side of the bed, one hand resting gently on your shoulder. His eyes searched your face. “How do you feel? Water and aspirin…” he reached toward his desk, grabbing a bottle and a little foil pack, “…ready to go.”

You took them, muttering a tired thank you as you sat up slowly. Your head was pounding. Everything felt weirdly fragile, like the air was too loud.

“What a mess.. why am I remembering…” you rubbed your temples, “Vicky. Telling me she’d scare off my date.”

Heeseung gave you a tight-lipped smile, carefully neutral. “She did.” You let out a weak laugh. “I didn’t do or say anything... regrettable, right?” His expression flickered. Just for a second. A crack.

“Regrettable?” he repeated quickly. “Nah, nothing like that. You were just… rambling. Typical drunk stuff.” He cleared his throat, eyes darting away. “I brought you back here ‘cause you couldn’t go home like that. And I figured, y’know… better I make sure you’re okay than leave you to die in a bush or something.”

You snorted. “Very noble of you.”

He tried to laugh, but it came out awkward, stiff. “Seriously though, I swear, nothing weird happened. You knocked out like, instantly. I made sure you didn’t choke in your sleep or whatever. That’s it.”

You nodded slowly, watching him as you sipped the water. “Nothing else?”

There was a pause. Barely a beat. He shook his head. “Nope. Nothing.” You said nothing. Just nodded again.

Because you did remember. The moment before it all faded. The way your heart pounded. The words that escaped you.

You remembered what you said to him. Clear as day.

Heeseung looked visibly relieved that you didn’t push it further. He stood up, rubbing the back of his neck. “You should probably go home though. Rest somewhere more… homey. Real food, maybe not just painkillers.”

You hesitated. Then quietly, “Can I stay? Just for a little while.” His eyes widened.

“I know I’m probably being annoying, but I just…can’t really go home like this yet.” You picked at the blanket, looking down. “Also, the date was shit...I wanna distract myself from thinking of it.” Heeseung blinked. The expression on his face shifted from surprise to something gentler.

“Yeah,” he said after a second, voice low. “Of course you can stay.”

He sat down next to you slowly, like he wasn’t sure he should. You could feel the warmth of him, even without touching.

“So,” he asked, carefully, “what happened? Was he a jerk or something?”

There was something off in his tone. A casual mask trying to cover the edge of something rawer.

You shrugged. “He was full of himself. Talked about himself the whole time. Kept flirting with Vicky right in front of me.” You glanced at him. “It was pathetic, honestly.”

Heeseung’s entire expression darkened. Jaw clenched. “Are you serious?” he muttered. “He did that in front of you?” You nodded.

“Piece of shit,” he muttered, then immediately seemed to catch himself. He ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry. That’s just-God, what a dumbass.”

You could feel something bubbling beneath his words. He was angry. More than just offended on your behalf. There was something personal in the way he said it.

“I didn’t even like him that much anyway,” you said under your breath.

“Oh?” he said quickly. “Then why go on the date?”

You gave him a sidelong glance. “I guess I was trying to prove something to myself. That I could move on. That I didn’t-” You bit your lip. “Never mind.” He watched you closely.

“Didn’t what?”

You shook your head, brushing it off. “Forget it.”

Heeseung opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of it. He leaned back against the wall beside the bed. “If it makes you feel better,” he said, “you deserve someone way better than that loser. Someone who… actually listens. Knows you.”

You smiled faintly. “Sounds like a fantasy.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

You turned to him. “You speak from experience?”

He smiled crookedly. “Something like that.”

There was a quiet stretch. Neither of you spoke.

Then, on impulse, you asked, “Wanna grab something to eat? My treat.”

He looked at you like you just offered to buy him a yacht. “Really?”

“Yeah. You took care of me, so let me return the favor.”

He blinked, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Sure. That sounds good.”

“I mean, you’ll probably complain about the food, but-”

“Oh, absolutely. You have terrible taste.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing the blanket off as you stood. “Can I shower?”

Heeseung blinked. “Shower?”

“Yeah. You’ve got clean towels, right?”

“Uh, yeah. Cabinet under the sink.” He was already standing up, rummaging through a drawer.

“Here. Take this.” He held out a folded t-shirt and a pair of his joggers. “These should fit, I think.” You took them, holding back a grin. “Thanks, mom.”

He flushed, then made a face. “Just don’t use all my conditioner. That shit’s expensive.”

You ducked into the bathroom, the sound of running water quickly masking the sound of your laugh.

Left alone, Heeseung flopped onto his bed, covering his face with his arm. “What the fuck,” he muttered.

Everything about you lately was driving him insane.

Ten minutes later, you emerged, towel-drying your hair and wearing his clothes. The t-shirt was soft, worn-in, and smelled like him. The joggers sat comfortably low on your hips.

“Feel better?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

You nodded. “Surprisingly, yeah.”

He grabbed his keys. “Let’s go, then.”

You walked side by side. Close. Too close, maybe. His hand brushed against yours a few times, just barely.

“Watch it,” you muttered after the third time.

“Not my fault,” he said, not looking at you. “You keep drifting.”

You narrowed your eyes at the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

When you reached the restaurant, he pulled open the door. “Go,” he said, flicking his chin. “Before you embarrass yourself trying to yank this open.”

“Wow,” you scoffed. “Chivalry’s dead.”

Inside the little restaurant, it was quiet. Just the low hum of a fan overhead and the occasional clink of cutlery from the kitchen. You slid into a booth by the window, the vinyl seat cool against your skin. Heeseung sat across from you, stretching his legs under the table with a soft groan.

He picked up the laminated menu and scanned it half-heartedly. “This place is always weirdly cold.”

You shrugged, fingers idly tracing the edge of your water glass. “Better than it being stuffy. I can’t think when it’s hot.”

“You can’t think when you’re cold either,” he pointed out, flipping the menu upside down like the food choices might change.

You smirked. “I can’t think around you, period.” He looked up. Blinked.

You hadn’t meant to say that.

“I mean-when you’re being annoying,” you added quickly, eyes dropping to the menu like it had suddenly become the most important thing in the world. “You’re distracting.”

“Uh-huh,” he said slowly, voice teasing. “Nice save.”

You made a face at him. He just chuckled and leaned back, watching you with that unreadable expression again. Half amused, half something else.

A waitress came by, took your orders, then disappeared just as quickly.

For a while, neither of you said much. You busied yourself with your straw wrapper, folding it into tight little knots. He watched your hands. Then the window. Then you again.

Finally, he asked, “So. Last night.”

You didn’t look up. “What about it?”

He shrugged. “I guess I just… didn’t expect it to bother me as much as it did.” That made you glance at him.

“I thought you weren’t paying attention?” you said carefully.

He let out a short breath. “Yeah. That was… not my finest moment.”

You leaned forward slightly. “Why though?”

Heeseung opened his mouth, then shut it again. Ran a hand through his hair.

“It was just… weird. Seeing you with someone else. Even if it was just a date.”

You tilted your head. “Weird how?”

He didn’t answer right away. His fingers drummed softly against the table.

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “I guess I thought I’d be fine. Like, of course you’re gonna date. That’s normal. But then I saw you standing there with him, and I just-” He exhaled sharply. “It was weird as hell.”

Your throat felt tight. “Heeseung…”

He shook his head, like he regretted saying anything at all. “I’m not trying to make this about me. I just… I care. Okay? Maybe more than I should.” That landed heavier than you expected.

You looked down again. At your straw wrapper. At the water beading on your glass.

“I didn’t like being there,” you admitted, voice low. “The whole thing felt off from the start. Like I was pretending.”

He looked up at that.

“Pretending what?”

“That I wanted to be there. That I didn’t already…” You hesitated. The words felt too big all of a sudden. Too close to something you weren’t sure either of you were ready to say.

“Already what?” he asked, barely above a whisper.

You gave him a small, careful smile. “Already know what I want.”

He stared at you for a moment. Then nodded slowly, like he understood just enough.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

The silence between you wasn’t heavy anymore.

The food arrived, and the moment passed. You both shifted back to easier conversation. Complaining about portion sizes, laughing at how they overcooked his egg, making jabs about your weird sauce preferences.

No one said it, but you both felt it.

It wasn’t a confession. Not exactly.

After the plates were cleared and the bill had been paid, you both just sat there nursing the last of your drinks, your fingers lazily stirring the melting ice around with your straw. Neither of you seemed in a rush to leave.

Heeseung glanced out the window, squinting slightly at the soft morning light filtering in. “It’s still early,” he said, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn that made his voice raspy. “Wanna walk around? There’s that park nearby… you know, the one with the stupidly big ducks.”

You snorted. “The ones that hiss at people?”

“Yeah. You like danger, right?”

You rolled your eyes, but you were already grabbing your bag. “Fine. But if I get chased, I’m sacrificing you.”

“Fair enough,” he said, grinning as he held the door open for you. The morning breeze was crisp, brushing past your cheeks and ruffling his hair a little. He didn’t bother fixing it.

The walk wasn’t far. It was one of those sleepy neighborhood parks. Just a few worn benches, an old slide, some trees that were finally blooming again. You found an empty bench in the shade and plopped down with a sigh; your legs grateful for the break. Heeseung sat beside you, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

For a while, there wasn’t much said. Just the sound of wind rustling through the leaves, the occasional squawk of an aggressive duck, and the distant bark of someone’s dog.

Then, without warning, you glanced sideways and asked, “Anyways, why did you lie when you said you told me about your part-time job?”

Heeseung blinked like you’d thrown cold water on him.

He looked at you, a little startled. “Huh?”

“You told me you already mentioned it,” you said, leaning back against the bench, casual but still watching him. “But I swear you didn’t.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, fidgeting with a napkin he'd absently tucked into his pocket.

“It’s just a part-time job, you know? Nothing special.” You didn’t say anything, waiting.

He sighed, letting his hands fall to his lap. “To be honest, I was kinda embarrassed about it. Figured you'd make fun of me for working at some random diner.”

You raised a brow. “Why would I make fun of you for that?”

He chuckled dryly. “I dunno. I guess I thought you’d see it and think I peaked in high school or something.” He finally met your gaze, sheepish. “Guess I should’ve known better. Since when do you judge people based on stuff like that?”

You cracked a grin. “Well, I’d definitely make fun of how you look while working. But not where or why.”

That made him laugh, really laugh, and you caught a glimpse of his canines when he smiled, the way his eyes crinkled when he wasn’t trying to hide it.

Then, maybe a little too comfortable, you added, “You looked good in that uniform though.” Your mouth shut a second too late.

Heeseung blinked. His eyebrows lifted ever so slightly, and he ducked his head, hiding the blush blooming across his cheeks.

“Oh yeah?” he said, trying for cool but fumbling it. “You... noticed?”

You cleared your throat, willing your face not to burn. “Just saying. It suited you.”

“I thought I looked stupid in it,” he muttered, scratching at his jaw. “Like... cartoon diner boy vibes.”

“You always look stupid,” you said, trying to mask the compliment. “But, like, stupidly good in that uniform. Somehow.”

He turned to you fully now, a full grin spreading across his face. “Stupidly good, huh?” he echoed, nudging your shoulder with his. “I don’t know whether to be offended or flattered.” “Go with flattered,” you muttered.

He laughed softly. “I will then. Coming from you, that’s high praise.”

Then he tilted his head, suddenly thoughtful. “Hey, remember that bet we made in middle school? That if neither of us found anyone by thirty, we’d just marry each other?”

You rolled your eyes. “Jesus, I didn’t think you still remembered that.”

“Of course I do,” he said through a mouthful of whatever snack he’d bought from the park’s sad vending machine. “How could I forget such a ridiculous deal?”

He leaned in a little, his voice playful but low. “Plus, it gives me ten years to write a killer speech for stealing you away. Gotta make it memorable.”

“Ew.” You groaned, half-laughing, half-wanting to throw him off the bench. “You’re so cheesy. Stop! You of all people actually being okay with that is insane.”

Heeseung held up both hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll tone it down.” But the smile didn’t leave his face.

Then his voice dipped, not teasing now. Softer. “But seriously. You’d rather end up with some stranger over someone who already knows you? Someone who’s been there... through everything?”

You looked at him, quiet.

He didn’t push. Just kept talking, like he was thinking out loud.

“Not saying I’d actually do it. But… it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, right? Settling down with someone who already knows all your weird habits and still wants to sit on a park bench with you after diner shifts and awkward first dates?”

The question lingered between you, neither rhetorical nor rushed. It hung in the silence like a soft, open-ended maybe.

You didn’t answer right away. Because honestly, you didn’t know how to.

Instead, you just reached out and flicked the corner of the vending machine snack in his hand.

“I only agree if I get to write your vows.”

He blinked. Then his grin returned, brighter than the morning sun overhead.

“You drive a hard bargain,” he said, voice warm.

You leaned back, letting your shoulders relax against the bench, watching a pair of ducks waddle toward a group of toddlers.

Heeseung was still beside you, just close enough that your knees bumped occasionally. Not a big moment. Nothing dramatic.

But it felt like everything wasn’t quite the same anymore.

So why are you letting it?

The next few days passed normally, with a tinge of peculiarity. You and Heeseung still bickered, still teased and jabbed at each other, but the edge was gone. Things had softened. Like the air had changed after a storm but neither of you wanted to talk about the lightning that had struck.

He'd text you late at night, just a meme or a weird video. You'd answer immediately, even if you were halfway through brushing your teeth. Sometimes he'd swing by the dental building just to walk you to the bus stop. You pretended not to notice the way your heart started doing gymnastics in your chest whenever he leaned a little too close or smiled a little too long.

Nothing had really changed. Except that everything had.

You didn’t dare bring up what he’d said at the breakfast place. The whole "settling down with your best friend" thing. You weren’t sure if he was serious. Heeseung had always joked like that. Always known how to toe the line. But lately, it felt like the line was erasing itself. You didn’t want to risk crossing it too soon.

And then suddenly, it was just a month before the university’s Interdisciplinary Festival. You could feel it in the shift of the campus vibe. Flyers everywhere, group chats buzzing, department chairs acting more high-strung than usual. You weren’t directly involved. Dentistry didn't usually have flashy showcases. Your part was more behind the scenes, coordinating with allied health orgs, preparing booths, boring but practical stuff.

But Performance Arts? That department lived for this. And Heeseung, being a third-year in Movement and Expression, had one of the biggest showcases lined up.

You only heard about it by accident.

You were on the library steps with your friend Hyejin, eating ice cream like it wasn’t ten in the morning. She was scrolling through her phone, showing you some video of someone absolutely bombing their tap dance final, when she went, "Oh my god, wait. You know Heeseung’s partnered with Yeri, right?"

You blinked. "Partnered for what?"

Hyejin tilted her head like it was obvious. "The interdisciplinary showcase. Their final’s a partner performance piece. Live. Like, full-blown duet. Probably something emotional and contemporary."

You laughed, even though your fingers tightened slightly around your spoon. "Sounds dramatic."

She shrugged. "Kinda hot, though. I mean, those two together? They’re gonna look insane on stage. Everyone’s already talking about it. People are betting on whether they’re gonna kiss in the final scene."

Your laugh this time came out too sharp. "Betting? Seriously?"

"It’s the Performance Arts kids. They make everything theatrical. But yeah, it’s all over the department forums. Some freshman even made a Yeri x Heeseung hashtag. It’s gross."

You scoffed, trying to play it off. "Heeseung’s probably dying of embarrassment. He hates that kind of attention."

But your stomach was sinking. Not because of Yeri, not exactly. Yeri was nice. Really fucking nice. And she and Heeseung made sense on paper. Both were tall, talented, and conventionally attractive. They moved in the same artistic circles. They shared a language you’d never really spoken. The idea of them being shipped together wasn’t surprising. It was reasonable.

And maybe that’s what made it worse.

You didn’t say anything to Heeseung at first. Not when he texted you a blurry selfie of himself trying on a costume for rehearsal. Not when he showed up at your library table the next day with a mango smoothie like he always did.

But you noticed the changes. Subtle things. He was always tired now. Rehearsals were eating up his evenings. He’d started humming unfamiliar melodies under his breath. And once, just once, you caught the faint scent of Yeri’s perfume clinging to his hoodie when he leaned over to help you fix your cracked phone screen.

You didn’t even flinch. You just smiled and handed him the new glass. Like always.

Until the cracks finally showed.

It was Friday evening. You’d both ended up on campus late—him from rehearsal, you from a late lab session. He found you sitting by the vending machines, legs curled up on the bench, eyes glued to your notes.

"You look like you haven’t blinked in an hour," he said, tossing you a small snack pack.

"You look like you got hit by a lighting rig," you shot back, eyeing his sweat-soaked hair.

He grinned. But it was tired. Too tired.

You both sat in silence for a moment, the kind that used to feel comforting. Tonight, it felt like holding your breath.

You nudged his knee. "So. The duet."

He stiffened slightly. Not a flinch, but close.

"Ah. That." He leaned back, resting his head against the wall. "You heard, huh?"

You nodded, keeping your tone light. "Whole school has, apparently. You two trending yet?"

He groaned. "Don’t even. Some sophomore tried to interview us for the school paper. I told them to interview my foot instead."

You snorted. "Nice."

Heeseung scratched at his temple. "It’s not that serious, y’know. Just an assignment. Yeri’s chill. She’s focused. No drama."

You stared at him. "You don’t think it’s a big deal?"

He looked at you then, really looked. And for a moment, the easy smile slipped.

"I didn’t say that," he said quietly. "Just... I didn’t ask for her. We were paired. It’s not like I had a choice."

You tried not to react. "Right. Makes sense."

Heeseung’s eyes narrowed a little, studying your expression. "Why? Does it bother you?"

You shrugged. "Why would it? It’s your class. You’re doing what you have to do."

There was a pause. Something taut stretched between you, neither of you daring to pull too hard.

Heeseung tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he watched you fidget with your notebook. "But it’s bothering you, right?"

You didn’t look up, focusing on the paper in front of you. "I didn’t say that."

He raised an eyebrow. "No, you didn’t. But you’re kind of wearing it on your face."

You huffed, flipping a page in your notebook, trying to avoid the growing tension. "I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of it."

Heeseung chuckled softly, but there was a quiet seriousness behind it. "I’m not making a big deal. You are."

You could feel his eyes on you, but you didn’t give in. "I’m not. Just-" You paused, scratching your pen over the paper more harshly than you intended. "It’s just different, okay? I’m used to having you around, not just in passing. And now… it’s like you’re always somewhere else, in some other world. I don’t know, maybe I forgot what that feels like."

There was a long silence between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, just a bit too quiet. Heeseung adjusted in his seat, clearly thinking about what you said. You could feel him looking at you, but you kept your gaze fixed downward, pretending like it didn’t bother you.

Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but with a hint of something almost... understanding. "That’s the problem, isn’t it? You’ve been so used to me being around all the time that now it feels weird."

You stiffened, feeling a flicker of irritation. "I’m not saying it’s a problem."

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "You’re not the best at explaining things, you know that?"

"Well, maybe if you didn’t make everything feel like a thing, it’d be easier to explain."

There was another wave of silence, but this time, it didn’t feel quite as tense. Heeseung shifted again, this time reaching over to poke your arm lightly. "Alright, alright. I get it. You miss me or whatever."

You rolled your eyes, but there was a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "I don’t miss you, I just-" You stopped yourself before you could say more, mentally cursing your own brain for letting that slip.

"Yeah, sure," Heeseung said, his voice now teasing but still light. "I know you’re just totally fine without me around."

You gave him a look, not bothering to respond. The familiar bickering felt oddly comforting, even if it didn’t solve anything. You could almost pretend like things weren’t shifting, that nothing had changed.

Heeseung leaned a little closer, his voice quieter this time, not quite teasing but not completely serious either. "You know, I’m still here, right? Even if I’m not always right in front of you."

You glanced at him, but your gaze faltered quickly. You couldn’t help but feel the weight of those words, even though they weren’t as heavy as they could have been. "Yeah, I know. You just keep disappearing into your little world for hours."

Heeseung smirked, nudging your arm with his shoulder. "I come back. I always do."

You looked up at him, your expression softening, but you didn’t say anything. For a moment, it felt like there was more between the two of you than you wanted to admit.

Heeseung smiled, the kind of smile that made you want to laugh and roll your eyes at the same time. "Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me."

The university’s interdisciplinary festival was the kind of event that had a little bit of everything: booths on oral health from the Dentistry department, sports exhibitions, and the inevitable Performance Arts showcases that would steal the spotlight, as they always did. Naturally, since the festival spanned multiple departments, each one had its role to play. It was a chaotic, messy combination of everything, but somehow, everything still managed to fall into place. Though not without a bit of stress.

Vicky, your very unfortunately good friend, was the one who dragged you into it.

“You’ve got to come help with the festival, please! I’m begging you!” Vicky had said that day, eyes wide with that slightly manic enthusiasm that usually meant trouble.

You’d wanted to refuse, but you owed her. Big time. You couldn’t exactly back out, not when she’d held a dirty little secret over your head for months. And there was the fact that she’d somehow convinced you to help her out when you’d lost a bet a while ago. This was your punishment, you guessed, helping her run around doing menial tasks for the festival. You sighed dramatically as you agreed, your inner voice grumbling about the mess you were about to step into.

“I’m only doing this because I owe you, Vicky,” you muttered, throwing on your jacket as you followed her to the sign-up table.

“I knew you’d come through,” she grinned widely, practically bouncing on her toes. You shook your head but didn’t argue.

Vicky was good at that, making you feel guilty enough to help her out without ever truly demanding it.

And so, you found yourself getting swept up into the logistics of the festival, running around with other volunteers from different departments. And as fate would have it, you ended up working directly with Yeri.

The thing about Yeri was… she was easy to like. At least, that’s how she came across. She was friendly. Polite. A little too nice at times, in a way that made you feel like she was always trying to read something between the lines. You didn’t know her well. But everyone else seemed to think she was this pure, sweet angel.

It was hard to deny, though, that something about her rubbed you the wrong way now. Maybe it was the way she smiled a little too brightly at you, or the way her eyes lingered on Heeseung just a little too long whenever he was nearby. It wasn’t jealousy, not exactly. At least, you didn’t want to think it was. But there was something unsettling about the ease with which she seemed to glide through everything, untouched and perfect.

And when you saw her, right there in the middle of it all, managing rehearsal coordination for the Performance Arts group, your stomach twisted in knots.

Her smile was so… practiced as she greeted you. Almost too perfect. She was standing by the entrance of the rehearsal room, clipboard in hand as people filtered in. She waved at you when she saw you approach with Vicky, and then stepped forward, offering a cool bottle of water in a way that felt both casual and deliberate.

“Here,” she said, holding it out to you with a small smile. “It’s gonna be a long day. Stay hydrated.”

You took the bottle from her without a word, fighting the urge to scowl. Vicky, ever the optimist, nudged you with a grin before speaking up.

“I’m gonna grab a coffee. You two go ahead and start getting familiar with the space. You’ll be fine, right?”

You barely had time to answer before Vicky disappeared, leaving you with her.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, avoiding Yeri’s gaze. You were about to turn away, but then her voice stopped you, and you froze.

“So,” she said, her voice light but her gaze sharp. “Are you and Heeseung… dating, or...?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. Your heart skipped a beat, and you had to fight not to let it show. Your chest tightened, and you almost laughed to cover it up.

“No,” you said, as casually as possible, trying to shrug it off. “We’ve known each other forever.” You wanted to move past this. But Yeri wasn’t letting you off that easily.

“Oh.” Her eyes were deceptively innocent as she tilted her head, her smile soft but there was something unsettling about it. “So, you’re like… family, then?” And just like that, your stomach dropped.

Family. That word. The word that made it sound like nothing between you and Heeseung would ever be more than just what you already were. Not that you even wanted it to be more, right? At least that’s what you tried to tell yourself as you awkwardly fumbled for a response.

You forced a smile, a tight thing that never quite reached your eyes. “Yeah, I guess. That’s one way to put it.”

Yeri didn’t seem to notice, or maybe she just didn’t care. She smiled again, a little too warmly, and nodded as if that answer had satisfied her.

“Family, huh?” She repeated, almost to herself, her eyes narrowing slightly, studying you for a moment longer than necessary.

You didn’t know why, but her words hit you like a punch in the gut. Something about them felt too sharp. Too intentional. It was like she was probing for something, trying to understand exactly how far the relationship between you and Heeseung went. You didn’t want to play her game, but she wasn’t going to let you off easy.

“Right.” You swallowed and finally gave in, looking at her for a second before glancing away.

“Well, we’re not really… family, I guess. Just… friends.”

Her smile flickered, a glint of something unreadable flashing in her eyes. She nodded again, still too perfect, too calm.

“Right. Just friends.”

The tension lingered in the air, thick and suffocating. You tried to shake it off, but it clung to you, following you around like a shadow. You didn’t want to think about what Yeri’s words meant. Didn’t want to think about the fact that, in the back of your mind, they made you feel…small.

Before you could say anything else, someone shouted from across the room, calling for Yeri’s attention. She glanced back at you, giving you one final, soft smile.

“I’ll be around if you need anything,” she said, and with that, she turned away, leaving you standing there, feeling a little more unsettled than you had a moment ago.

You wanted to be mad. You wanted to be angry at the way she’d managed to make you feel like you were something less than you were. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to get upset. Not when you felt…stupid.

And maybe it was because of her. Or maybe it was because of the way your heart had stuttered when she’d asked about you and Heeseung. But either way, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was starting to change… again.

And it wasn’t just with her. It was with Heeseung, too.

For the next few days, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way Yeri’s smile had never quite reached her eyes. The way her words seemed so carefully chosen, like she was testing you, seeing how you’d react. You weren’t sure what her angle was, but you knew it was something more than just curiosity.

And Heeseung? He wasn’t making it any easier. You didn’t know if it was the festival getting to you, or the fact that Yeri was always around, her presence like a quiet storm brewing in the background. But you couldn’t escape the feeling that the space between you and Heeseung was widening.

It had always been this easy with him. But now? Now, everything felt...complicated.

It had been a few days since that weird conversation with Yeri. Since that almost-smile you gave her. Since her words, “So you’re like… family?” had been playing on repeat in your head like some cruel inside joke you didn’t know you’d signed up for.

You told yourself you were over it. Told yourself you were being dramatic. But the thing is, once a thought plants itself like that, it doesn’t go away. It twists. It grows teeth. It appears like a teratoma you saw in ‘Grey’s Anatomy.’

The thing about trying to shake something off is that it never really works when you're already spiraling. And after that whole almost-cordial conversation with Yeri a few days ago, the drink offering, the “you’re like family?” line, the way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, it had been hard not to spiral. You told yourself it wasn’t a big deal. That it didn’t mean anything. People asked offhand questions all the time. Yeri didn’t know better.

But you weren’t stupid. You knew a loaded question when you heard one.

Still, you’d managed to push it down. Not away, just barely under the surface, like stuffing a drawer that wouldn’t quite close. You buried yourself in classwork, in shift hours, in helping Vicky plan her chaos of a booth for the Interdisciplinary Festival. She’d somehow roped you into printing tarpaulin designs and labeling props for a dental hygiene game that involved questionable puppet mascots and glitter glue.

And maybe it was easier to be annoyed at Vicky than to sit still long enough to think about how things felt different lately.

Heeseung hadn’t been avoiding you, no. If anything, he was still... around. Still showing up outside your building with a coffee when you didn’t ask, still bumping his knee against yours under the table during lunch, still sending reels at 2am with a “this is you when you’re hungry” caption.

But something had shifted.

Maybe it was you.

Or maybe it was that you noticed the shift more now that Yeri had stepped out of the periphery and into your shared spaces.

It was a late Thursday afternoon when it happened. The hallway leading to the studio wing was mostly quiet, the usual buzz of activity softened by the fact that most departments were busy prepping their respective booths or showcases. You were carrying a stack of laminated activity cards, something Vicky insisted were “vital to audience engagement,” and cutting through the Performance Arts floor because it was a faster route back to your booth.

You didn’t mean to look.

Really, you didn’t.

You only turned your head because you heard music playing from the open studio door. It was something soft and rhythmic, a piano loop that sounded vaguely familiar. You would’ve kept walking if not for the glimpse of movement in your peripheral vision. A flash of grey sweatpants.

A foot pivoting. The sound of a quiet laugh.

And there they were.

Heeseung and Yeri.

In the center of the studio, mid-run-through. You could tell from their breathing that they were nearing the end. Their movements were fluid, he reached for her wrist, spun her in close, and her hand landed on his shoulder like muscle memory. The music faded into its final notes. She stumbled slightly, and he caught her by the waist without missing a beat.

And then, still holding her, he laughed.

It wasn’t flirtatious. It wasn’t intimate in the way people always imagined.

But it was close.

His forehead brushed hers as he chuckled, and she grinned back, flushed from movement, her hand still resting against his chest.

And just like that, the drawer inside you burst open.

You didn’t wait for the rest of the moment. You didn’t give it the grace of an ending. You turned before they could see you, before Heeseung could glance over and realize you’d been standing there like some pathetic cliché in a drama rerun.

The laminated cards dug into your fingers as you walked faster, then faster still, until the hallway blurred and your breath caught unevenly in your throat.

You knew it wasn’t a big deal. Knew that this was rehearsal. Knew that Heeseung didn’t look at Yeri the way he looked at you when you were both cracking jokes in line for ramen, or when you were arguing over toothpaste flavors at the convenience store.

But knowing didn’t mean anything when your brain kept replaying that image. His hands on her waist, their laughter floating in sync, the ease of it all.

And the worst part?

The worst part was how normal it all looked.

How good they looked together.

You don’t remember walking down the stairs.

Your legs must’ve carried you out of the performance wing on autopilot, but your brain was stuck on loop, replaying the scene you weren’t supposed to see. The way he held her. The stupid laugh. That split second of closeness. You kept telling yourself it wasn’t even romantic, and yet here you were, nearly tripping over your own feet on the way back to the volunteer booth because your chest felt tight and hollow at the same time.

By the time you made it to the central quad, the heat in your ears had barely faded. Students were scattered across folding tables, tape guns snapping open, boxes getting unpacked.

Someone was blasting a speaker near the MedTech stall. It was all just noise.

You spotted Vicky instantly, perched like a gremlin on top of a chair, one leg folded under her as she furiously labeled laminated tags. Her drink was half-spilled next to a tangle of string lights. Typical.

You dropped the flyers in front of her with a little too much force.

Vicky flinched. “Damn. You tryna give me a paper cut to the throat or something?” You didn’t answer.

She peered at you, head tilted. “You good?” Still nothing.

Vicky blinked. “Okay, mood.”

You sat down wordlessly across from her, staring blankly at the label sheet.

After a beat, she gave you a look. “...You passed by the rehearsal studio, didn’t you?” That snapped your head up.

Your silence was enough of a confession.

Vicky hissed through her teeth. “I told you not to take the back hallway. Didn’t I literally say not to risk it today?”

“I wasn’t trying to spy,” you said stiffly. “It was just the fastest way. I wasn’t expecting-”

“Well, yeah. No one expects to get punched in the gut by destiny.”

You frowned. “This isn’t some drama.”

“Isn’t it?” she countered, flicking a label onto a folder. “Because I’m pretty sure that looked a hell of a lot like the third-act misunderstanding in Twilight. You’re Bella. Yeri’s the romantic rival. Heeseung’s the-”

“Don’t,” you warned. “Do not call him Edward.”

Vicky shrugged, deadpan. “I was gonna say Jacob, actually. But tomato, tomato.”

You shot her a glare, but your heart wasn’t in it. Your stomach was still twisted up, your chest still humming with that awful buzzing feeling. Like jealousy, but meaner. Heavier.

She studied you for a moment before softening, her voice dipping lower. “Look, I get it. I know it sucks. And I know you’re not gonna say it out loud, but you’re mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

“You’re jealous, then.”

“I’m not-” You bit off the rest, jaw tight. “I’m not anything.”

Vicky gave you the most annoying knowing smile. “Sure. Which is why you’re out here nearly cracking a hole in my table.”

You folded your arms, but the motion felt defensive even to you.

She pressed. “Be real, though. Are you actually upset about the duet? Or about the fact that it looked... comfortable?” That landed.

You exhaled sharply and looked away. “It wasn’t even romantic.”

“But it could’ve been. If you didn’t know better.” Vicky leaned back in her chair. “That’s what stings the most, huh?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to.

She watched you for a second, then leaned forward, voice softer now. “Look. I know it’s easier to pretend it’s nothing. But I also know you. And you don’t look at people like that unless it means something.”

You swallowed hard.

“Even if you can’t say it,” she added gently, “you feel it. That’s enough to make this kind of thing hurt.”

You stared down at the table. A breeze lifted one of the corner tags and fluttered it against your arm.

“I told myself I didn’t care,” you murmured. “Everyone knows they’re partnered. I thought I was fine. I was fine.”

“And then you saw it.”

You nodded, slowly. “He laughed.”

Vicky raised a brow. “And that’s the crime?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “It’s just… he laughed like it was easy. Like she belonged there. In his arms. I’ve seen him do duets before, but this...” You trailed off. Your throat felt tight.

“She’s good at what she does,” Vicky said, not unkindly. “And she’s not stupid. She knows exactly how she comes off.”

“I know.”

“She probably knows you’re watching, too.” You blinked at her.

“C’mon,” Vicky said, scoffing. “Yeri’s not dumb. She asked if you and Heeseung were dating in the most suspiciously casual way imaginable. You think she wasn’t testing the waters?”

You clenched your jaw, that old bitterness creeping back in. “She said we were like family.”

“Oh, ouch.”

“Yeah.”

Vicky sighed, sliding her drink over to you. “You want me to ‘accidentally’ trip and spill glitter on her head?”

You cracked a laugh. It was weak. Shaky. But real.

“I’m serious,” she said, straight-faced. “I’ll ruin her whole aesthetic. It’ll be glitterpocalypse.” “I appreciate the offer,” you mumbled.

A long silence stretched between you, filled only by the sounds of other students setting up around you, the distant hum of another speaker kicking on.

And then Vicky said, softer, “You’re allowed to feel things, you know. Even if you’re not dating him. Even if no one said anything out loud yet.”

You blinked fast. The backs of your eyes were starting to sting.

“But what if I’m just... reading too much into it?” you asked, voice quiet. “What if I’m the only one who thinks we’re… whatever we are?”

“You’re not,” Vicky said firmly. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s not just you.”

You stared at the tabletop, her words echoing in your chest like they wanted to stick but didn’t know where to land.

“Just don’t let this one moment undo everything you’ve built with him,” she added, nudging your hand. “You guys have history. Depth. That beats any choreography any day.” You nodded slowly, even though the ache hadn’t left. Not really.

But for now, you stayed.

You let Vicky drag you into more prep work, into stringing lights and faking jokes, into the chaos of your friendship, even while the image of Heeseung and Yeri refused to leave the back of your mind.

Even while the burn lingered.

Even while the question, the one you never said out loud, twisted deeper inside you:

If you were really his person...

Then why did it feel like he was learning to smile in someone else's direction?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

[verycoolusername1]

Well Derseved Vacay

Summary: In which Luke joins you on a getaway with your friends during the off season.

Luke Hughes x singer!reader

A/N: Olivia's irl friends(Tate McRae, Iris Apatow, Kid Laroi, and Madison Hu) are the friends in this imagine.

You were currently on tour for your new album, CARE. And was taking a break in between Asia and Australia dates to spend time with your friends, more importantly with Luke.

With the devils being out of playoffs and Luke's injury, you and Jack both decided he couldn't just sit around sulking between that and missing you so Jack sent him along with you, not like Luke put up a fight about it.

And you were more than happy to share space for your boyfriend... just as long as he doesn't snore in your ear again.

You ran your fingers through Luke's hair as he laid on top of you, his head on your chest as the sun hitting his face while you decided on sunglasses and a hat.

Tate looked at the two of you in mock disgust.

"Could you two be anymore cute?" She asked, Luke hummed in response. "We so can."

"Don't test them, babe." Laroi chuckled.

"Guys cmon, we have a volleyball game to play!" Madison called out to the girls. "Iris, you're on my team."

Tate, Laroi, and Iris made their way to Madison, eager to play the game.

You were brought out of your thoughts when Luke shifted slightly.

"Luke?" You whispered.

"Hmm?" Luke looked up at you.

"Don't go to sleep on me." You kissed his temple.

Luke grinned. "I can't guarantee that, you're so warm."

You chuckled. "We're out in the sun, baby. Of course I'm warm."

"Where's your next stop on tour?" Luke asked.

"Melbourne," You answered. "I'm unsure of what to wear though."

"Can you wear that red bodysuit?" Luke murmured. "You look nice in red."

"You're only saying that because it's your team colors." You rolled your eyes playfully.

"Yeah and? You look good in my team colors." He argued.

"You're lucky you're my boyfriend." You chuckled.

"Your hot, amazing, talented boyfriend." Luke corrected.

"Right, how could I forget?" You looked at him.

Luke smiled softly, he always felt small under your gaze(ironic I know)... there was just something in the way you looked at him, all that love and happiness within that almost made him nervous.

"This is nice, isn't it?" Luke murmured. "Just us on the beach."

You nodded. "Could get used to this."

"Can we do this every off season?" Luke suggested. "When we're both free, just a trip to the beach or wherever you want to go... just us."

Luke looked over to your friends who were still very much invested in their volleyball game and chuckled.

"We could," You agreed. "I'll always make time for you, Lukey."

Luke blushed at your words, he was about to reply before you cut him off with your lips.

He knew it then that everything was going to be okay as long as he had you.

Yourusername just posted!

Liked by lukehughes, conangray, beabadoobee, and 7,653,290 others...

Yourusername: Summer loving having a blast!

Comments

Fan74: everywhere but that damn studio

Yourusername: Fan74 yes 🤭

Conangray: SUMMER LOVING HAPPENED SO FAST *liked by yourusername*

Madisonhu: and where am I??

Yourusername: Madisonhu in my heart <3

Lukehughes: yourusername 😒

Tatemcrae: had so much fun!!! *liked by yourusername*

Fan43: all yn does is remember their password, fourth post this month 😭

Fan58: Fan43 don't say it out loud then they'll forget again!!!

Yourusername: Fan43 Fan58 what's a password?

Fan62: yourusername NO STOP IT RIGHT NOW

[torglives]

on pangi and abandonment

awhile ago, on stream, lukey threw around the words commitment issues when talking about tr pangkey. it is more likely than not that he was talking about his own character, but a lot of the audience assumed he was taking a shot at pangi. which is very… hmm! not in a bad way, i think it just goes to show how easy it is to misinterpret his actions if you aren't clocked into the way he navigates his relationships with people.

he obviously has issues, but with his attachments they stem more from (i'd argue entirely from) his deep-rooted fear of abandonment rather than commitment.

pangi is passionately committed to people. this has never been something he's tried to hide or keep secret. it's something that cc pili mentioned during an on-stream ooc conversation about pangili/pangkey (watch that whole conversation, actually. he's nailed pangi's character very well. and his own obviously but that's a given. i love pili) -- "there is you who, i feel like you have separation anxiety to some degree. i feel like you're very "it's this person, or nothing." ... kind of like a ride or die situation." -- he brings up also, why this was such a point of contention between pangili1, because they had very different attachment styles, with mocha tending to lean towards avoidant attachment.

in the clip linked, a chatter says "abandonment issues hmm i wonder why (lifesteal)"-- and that's the perfect segway for me to drag ls pangi back into the spotlight. yay! i've said this before, but lifesteal and pangi's relationships on the server/throughout its history are probably one of the most important keys to really understanding him. on lifesteal, pangi has never truly been anyone's first choice. he devotes himself to people, to causes, but no matter how hard he'll ride or die for those things, it is never reciprocated. at his core, he is very lonely. he's not wanted in the way he wants to be wanted, but gives it his all anyway. it always ends the same way, he always ends up the same way: alone. quite literally abandoned.

of course this translates into the realm, and pangi finally finds someone who, to him, is what he's been looking for--his ride or die. his person, as much as he is theirs--in pili. it's pili or nothing, and this is the first time it's been mutual, so he plays it by ear. he lets it grow into co-dependancy willingly, because to be wanted is everything he's been looking for. but pangi is no stranger to abandonment, and during their first crisis, when pili says 'i don't trust you anymore,' pangi shuts down. he tries re-working over that open wound that pili left in his (VERY BRIEF) absence, because it's how he's learned to adapt. they, of course, come back together. and then pili dies, brutally, in front of him, with clown in mind. in february, after mocha died, i wrote this in an (outdated) (so i won’t link it) thought post:

pangi, as a character, is unable to linger. he feels the need to jump from thing to thing, never giving himself the proper time to sit and process. when his worst fear is proven, when he is shown that he isn't wanted or needed somewhere--he shuts down the part of himself that was trying to be wanted and needed. his way of 'staying on top of it all' is just adding another layer. he buries it under something new, and tries to forget about it and barrel onto the next thing. it never works.

which applies here too. i think it says everything i could even say. pili dies, and pangi is once again alone. despite his commitment, despite pili’s, it wasn’t enough.

and then ros and aimsey come along, and they’re kind to him--they get stuck in the null together, and nobody else can understand that outside the three of them. they both say things like "it’s us against the world," and "the three of us," and this works for awhile. pangi has people he can devote himself to, but this time it’s different, because there’s a disconnect--there’s a part of pangi that they don’t understand, the parts that more or less belonged to pili. pangi gives his all, but more importantly, his trust, but he’s never been great with words, and there’s no intrinsic understanding of violence like he’s used to, so it causes fallout. pili and pangi shared a similar mindset, that’s part of what made them work so well. for pangi, pili had aspects of home. ros and aimsey, despite how much they care, don’t understand that culture. ros breaks his trust, once, and to him, that’s abandonment. that’s always been a tell-tale sign of it. that’s betrayal, so pangi refuses to linger. he kills at the ball, takes the brunt of their anger, and leaves, because someone must leave. someone always must leave, so he does.

aimsey finds him a few days after, and says: "why did you think we hated you? it’s not like you do one thing that makes us upset and suddenly you’re the worst person in the world." -- but honestly, that’s all pangi knows. it’s all, or it’s nothing.

he still cares about them, so much, but it has put a permanent strain on their relationship, on his trust for them, because they don’t understand each other in the same way. he cannot be truly devoted to them, because he has been shown that they are not truly devoted to him. and that’s not their fault, not at all, it’s simply a gap in understanding. it’s something that pangi doesn’t understand about them, or them about pangi.

what’s that quote? "if you give me the slightest hint of abandonment and withdrawal, i would outdo you."

i could go into detail about the intricacies with his relationship with lukey too, but if you compare them to the points i’ve listed i’m sure you can draw the conclusions yourself--why they work so well, aligning in areas that have been missing.

people are very familiar with his hate, because it burns bright and is unavoidable. people are less familiar with his love, just as passionate, because it is easier to overlook, it’s less common. he is undoubtably devoted to those he hates and those he loves, and is consumed by how he feels for both of them. he will always commit, but is terrified at the slightest taste of being left behind, of being a second choice. of not meaning to others what they mean to him. again. it’s all, or it’s nothing.

[physicallyimprobable]

Alright so yes, this does seem like a fake story (unfortunately) but personally I was most interested by comments saying that it was made by AI, since the prose seemed human enough to me. Fortunately, one commenter (@bsidetrack) was kind enough to link this YouTube video which gave some tips, so I decided to try them out on the story above. And of course arrange them in a list, because that's who I am. The numbering is according to the video, with sub-items added whenever I felt like it.

How To Spot LLM Reddit Engagement Bait

None of these points are diagnostic, which makes sense because you, a human, can literally just Write Like This if you want to. These are just all things that add credence to the hypothesis that a post was written with LLM. In particular, multiple people pointed out in the comments of the video that folks with the 'tism tend to do a lot of these, and indeed are more likely to be falsely accused of being LLMs.

(Also I'm using the term LLM because I'm tired of people conflating all AI with this garbage.)

Good grammar and syntax. Even spacing, starting letters of sentences are capitalized, clauses are correctly separated, etc. Not really evidence for an LLM so much as lack of evidence against an LLM. Plenty of humans (including myself) do their best to write with proper grammar. Predictive text models, however, find it difficult to speak with obviously-bad grammar. I like the analogy used in the video: "Averaging the output of the entire internet to generate a Reddit post reduces mistakes, the same way that averaging the faces of a bunch of people returns a face that is more symmetrical than most individual faces." 1a. Inconsistent grammar and syntax. The definitions for "correct" grammar differ with cultures, but a given person will usually use a single convention, while an LLM will flip between correct conventions at random. The most common examples are switching between dash sizes and changing the way quotation marks interact with other punctuation. This post doesn't really do any of that, though; all of the quotation marks are the same and all punctuation is pulled inside.

Neat structure. Each paragraph is about a specific topic, which was introduced by the first sentence. Again this is good practice, so humans can and will do this, which means this point is more about how seeing a poorly structured post gives evidence of it having been made by a human.

Long dashes. In many of these websites, including Reddit in particular, there is no way to get an em-dash or an en-dash beside using a keyboard shortcut, which a strong majority of people don't know about. Now, I personally am very aware of these shortcuts and sometimes use them (well, I use the em-dash sometimes and the en-dash never) but from a probabilistic perspective, if you see text using an em-dash—which, to be clear, looks like this—it's more likely to have come from an LLM than from a person. I suppose I should also give an example of an en dash, but there's only like 2–3 correct uses for them.

Excessive direct quotes. Humans telling a story about themselves will usually not bring in direct quotes, since remembering an actual quote from a casual conversation is something that almost nobody does. Of course, humans can and do remember and quote single words and phrases, but LLMs will quote entire sentence fragments, even if it doesn't really make sense to do so. Honestly most of the quotes in the above passage make sense to me, but "The spirits have chosen you. I can't fight them anymore." seems a bit on the borderline. 4a. There's also a specific structure that LLMs love to use, where someone describes something with "a descriptor in quotations" and "a second descriptor in quotations". That is, when describing what a person is saying they give exactly two quoted examples. This one doesn't appear in the story above, but you can see a lot of examples in the video.

Common words, phrases and tropes. Let's toss these in a sub-list. Keep in mind that none of these are hard evidence since they are, in fact, common. 5a. "I was floored. I was stunned. I was blown away." LLMs love emphasizing that characters are surprised by things. 5b. Smirking, grinning, or a combination of the two. I'm willing to bet this is specific of AITA LLM posts, but they love making their antagonists smirk. 5c. "My friends and family are split on the issue." LLMs love stating that the people around the poster have divided opinions about the issue, on account of that's what the AITA subreddit is focused on. This is especially egregious because a lot of the LLM stories have one perspective that is very clearly in the right, to the extent that anyone taking the other side would need to be downright malicious. We have a very good example here: Her friends are divided; half of them are taking her side while the other half say she should have "just kicked him out the normal way", you know, the thing she'd been trying to do for six months. 5d. Overhearing whispers to a stunning degree of accuracy, especially if it's about a contentious topic. 5e. "So, Reddit, AITA?" Honestly seems pretty weak as evidence to me since like 60% of human posts end this way, but apparently LLMs are more likely to use that specific phrasing, and more likely to provide a little summary of the problem after asking. This ties in to point 2, so the same caveats from there apply. In our case, I'd also like to point out that this summary doesn't really fit the story; nowhere does it seem that Steve is "emotionally clingy". He just seems like a normal loser. Also, from the comments of the video: 5f. "So buckle up, because here's where it gets wild." LLMs enjoy nothing more than a good escalation. We have a "now here's where it gets spicy" in this one as well.

So funny you forget to laugh. LLMs love making the most milquetoast wink-to-the-camera jokes you've ever seen. It's hard to describe the theme of them in words, but honestly for me the hard part is to clock them as attempted jokes in the first place since they're so terribly not funny. I think "which, honestly, was kind of flattering" might have been an attempted joke. I can't tell because I can't see if the author is winking to the camera or not.

Unbelievable details. Your standard "and everyone clapped" fare: strangers being invested in your issues, crazy coincidences, and contrived happenings. The ferret thing is one example, as is the bluetooth speaker in the walls, but neither of those seem too ridiculous on their own to me. The weirdest part for me was the friend using special effects makeup to "pretend to be a Victorian child ghost in the hallway mirror." How would that even work? Surely for him to see her in the hallway mirror, she would have to be behind him in the hallway? Also, what kind of makeup changes your height to be that of a child? 7a. A complete lack of emotional investment in the part of the poster. Real people are usually reluctant to leave long-term relationships, and will basically always have some strong emotions about doing so, but LLMs typically either paper this over with a simple phrase like "I was devastated" or (as we see in this example) fail to mention any emotional reaction at all. 7b. Omitting parts of the story that people usually include, and in particular the breakup process itself. How much of the stuff in her apartment was his? She states that he "packed a bag" and left; were all of his worldly possessions in there? Real breakups have logistics and annoyances, especially between people who had been living together.

Woah that's a wacky premise! LLM stories will generally have more outlandish titles and premises than real ones. (This can unfortunately only really be used as a test if you're on the actual subreddit, since the posts that get screenshot and spread are always such posts anyways.) Faking a haunted house definitely fits the bill. 8a. Another tip for finding them natively on Reddit is to check their comment history. LLM comments will be the most therapy-textbook all-affirming statements, every time. 8b. Everyone sucks! Stories in which every single person is being antagonistic to a cartoonish degree are way better at generating engagement than those in which characters are at all reasonable.

So, of all these red flags, which ones does the story raise? We've got clear violations of 1 and 2 (although not 1a) which could mean nothing. They're safe on point 3, with no long dashes in sight. Point 4 is questionable at best; definitely more quotation than usual, but still not at a level that I find strange. From the canned tropes we have 5c, 5e, and 5f. Jury's out on 6 and honestly I'm not sure if I'd be able to find an example even if it were there. Clear violations of 7, 7a, and 7b; crimes against plausibility that suggest the story is at least made up by a human, if not an LLM. Finally, a violation of point 8, although they're fine on 8b and it's impossible to verify 8a since their account has mysteriously vanished (as far as I could find).

In summary, while we can never be fully sure, the story contains enough of the hallmarks of LLM writing that I'm willing to at least entertain the possibility. I'd say pretty certain fake, and probable LLM story.

[kalied0skull]

“ You gonna stay up out there for me? ”

“ Tsh— What, you doubtin' my abilities, Sodapop Curtis? ”

“ Naw, not for a second, Dally. ”

now playing: Blue Eyes Like the Devil's Water — McCafferty ♪

★ ramble under the cut !

i asked in a post poll yesterday about who to draw with soda because I LIKE A BIT OF VARIETY... it's fun stuff to try drawing different dynamics, and these two ... man !!! :D

there's some real silly headcanon in my head that dallas and soda had this routine of doing a shoot-out before every race or rodeo. everytime, they'd turn to each other and one of them would do a "you need a count?" quote and then they'd play it out of shooting each other.

that same headcanon got very sad to think about VERY quickly, because I don't think soda does finger guns anymore. feels like kind of a curse now.

...BUT ANYWAYS, these are two real fun guys!!! they are so dapper and looking ready for a good time and these little outfits were so fun to put together (albeit very SIMPLE outfits..)

it's not often i draw these two together funnily enough, but when i do it is SO fun, and I'm not a heavy of a dallypop shipper but eheehee just look at them :D

i mean either way this drawing can be interpreted as a platonic or romantic interaction, i personally made it platonically but with the ship in mind (so like qpr type shit except it's not really described anywhere whatsoever) but it's all up to the people !!!

may i just say that cowboy hats are the BANE of my artistic existence. and side profile smiles. these fuckers were a pain in my ASS to get to look right, and on the plus i am very delighted with the finished product ...

i mmmiiiiiggghttt make this a digital drawing just because i really wanna color it, but that is an EXTREMELY strong maybe just because i think it looks good as is

on an unrelated note, i scoured my nearest playlist for a half decent, slightly-on-theme song for these two because i realized i do not think about these two in terms of songs very often ?!!

i definitely should get onto that... maybe make them an internal playlist or something ... these two aren't spoken about enough and they're such a fun dynamic aside from just "grumpy / sunshine" dynamics ...

but that's for a completely different post, in the meantime here's another rare dallypop appearance on the blog !!! if people like them, i might draw them more — and either way i still will, just because IIIIII like drawing them for me 💀 they're a fun pair

i fought the urge to do a "Bang!" detailing in the middle of them and settled on stars, it was just second best option because i tried the bang and it just looked too clunky .. especially since they weren't actually shooting, just aiming

[lair-of-the-white-worm]

Hi! I know you've been asked this before so I apologize, but will you be continuing EOTY with a new chapter soon? I'm very curious! It's one of the most well written dark stories I've seen for OW

Thanks for the compliments, I really do appreciate it. I wish I was in a good enough mood to return to you but. This ask has been sitting in my inbox for a bit now, because I have a lot of anons asking similar questions about my fics and they get overwhelming, but I just wanted to answer this one frankly; most likely No. I will NOT be posting a new Employee of the Year chapter anytime soon. I don't know if I'm ever going to post another chapter period. I want to apologize in advance for how long this response is going to be. But I've been accused of some pretty heinous things lately and I feel beyond sick. A sour taste has been left in my mouth about my writing. Writing was my outlet and I feel horrid about this.

I didn't want to post anything about this publicly. I didn't want to post anything about this to my friends, be it here or in private conversations. I have been trying and trying and trying to let it go, and move on, because I hate arguing on the internet, but I'm at my tipping point. An Oddtumblr user named sei/the/zordokon, as well as a user going by glenglam/324 have been saying and doing some insanely sick shit to my friends. (please, for the love of all that is sacred, do NOT sent them any cruel messages to these two. I know I'm talking to a wall when I say this, but I do not condone or endorse any anonymous harassment or hate mail whatsoever. I am too old for this. Do not send them anything. I want them to leave me alone and this is why I am angry. They cannot keep me and my friends' names out of their mouths, and it's made it's way to people I trust now, so I can't take it anymore).

They have accused me, my beloved partner Roman (this-game-has-themes), as well as my mutuals and dear friends including ghostmoor and several other individuals of condoning and fetishizing rape and incest in the art and fanfictions I create. I already have immense posting apathy. This has put the nail in the coffin for me. I try to post for myself and nobody else, but this has left me sick. I cannot stand rape kinks. I struggle to write the explicit scenes in Employee of the Year because it was mentally taxing. The story is not supposed to be "kinky", and if anyone reading it thought that was what it was then I have to say you've come to the wrong place. The story is meant to be traumatizing. It is meant to be disgusting. It is meant to make you want to toss Molluck down several flights of stairs. The reader is supposed to be made sick by it because I don't want people to like what Molluck is doing in the story. Writing that story had been immensely therapeutic for me for coping with My Own Baggage about Things that aren't much anybody's business but my own. But I didn't make that clear enough it would seem. So now the entire story leaves the sourest taste in my mouth and I can't stand to look at it, knowing that what people have been taking from it is that "I get off to rape".

I cannot stand incest. It makes me sick. It makes me vomit. It is one of the most sensitive subjects for me and I can only stomach it when it's being depicted in a way that demonizes it. However, what Glenglam and Sei have been doing lately is accusing my Abe & Alf content of being incestuous. Which makes me feel rotten to my core, that anyone under the sun could look at my works of Abe and Alf and think that was what I was trying to do. They have been telling strangers I support incest. My art was so kindly shared by OWI themselves on Twitter and other socials, and they were genuinley telling people it was fucking incest.

I don't have the energy to post all the horrid, vile, insulting, sickening shit that Sei and Glenglam have said about me and my friends to others. I realize now that a lot of the cruel messages I was receiving a bit ago may have been coming from them. It makes me sad. It makes me sick. I haven't even gotten into all the transphobia coming from them, but I don't want to post about it because talking about it makes me find my own body disgusting. I should have gotten the hint when I first shared my trans headcanons in front of Sei's mun, and she instantly shut them down. But that's old hat.

I don't want to post anything anymore. Because I considered them good acquaintances. Even though we were not friends. I would have never posted anything about them, to anyone, had they just left it all alone. They don't like me, they don't like my friends and they don't have to like me. Or my friends. But spewing this vitriol about me to other people in the fandom, making posts about me and my friends and then deleting them when word gets to us, ACCUSING ME AND MY FRIENDS OF CONDONING INCEST AND RAPE BECAUSE THEY WANT PEOPLE TO SHUN US, I can't stand it.

I haven't shared this much fanfiction and artwork in ages. Oddworld was such a wonderful outlet for me and it still is. But if these are the sorts of horrid things people in this fandom are going to accuse me of, I hesitate to share content further. I had no desire to post anything about Glen or talk about her to anyone else until now. I had known of Sei for years. I thought her a wonderful, wonderful artist. Just because we were not friends and she made me uncomfortable on many occasions did not mean that I wanted to fight her, insult her, or anything of the sort. I only gave her criticism when it was asked of me. I was direct with her when I needed to be. We did not click as friends. It did not bother me that we did not click as friends. But this is BEYOND the last straw.

Since this is quite literally the only post I will be making on this matter;

Sei and Glen, if you're reading this, fuck you both to hell. I am done holding my tongue. I am done giving you both the benefit of the doubt. Fuck you for the disgusting shit you've accused me and my friends of. Keep my name out of your fucking mouthes, keep my friends names out of your fucking mouthes. You don't know anything about me, who I am, why I write, you don't know anything about it. You both had no respect for me as a trans person, you currently have no respect for me or my friends as individuals, and you have absolutely fucking destroyed the last shred of respect I had for either of you, as well as any motivation I had to post my content, because I will forever feel sick to my stomach every time I see you in the tags, every time I see you interact with my friends acting like you're innocent, every time I hear your name or see your art I will be reminded of the ROTTEN shit you have done and said to me and about me and my dear friends. When I met you, you were artists I looked up to and respected. After getting to know you, I wish I never fucking did.

This fandom is small. So it's hard to keep these things contained. It's hard for me to avoid these things. I'm still fairly new here, and I am so upset that my welcome into this fandom has been turned on it's backside by the last persons I thought would do such a thing. And I feel horrible even posting this because I know they have friends who are none the wiser to this situation who are following me and I am so, so so incredibly sorry. But I am at my boiling point.

Anyways. Posting will be slow from now on. This whole debacle has made me feel disgusted to my core. I want to privatize all of my Abe and Alf art as well as all of my fanfiction, knowing that people are running around telling people these soul crushing fibs.

[patchdotexe]

this post has gotten super popular so i wanna add on:

tbh i was talking to myself here. i dont remember what specifically prompted this, but i'd recently read a really good roleswap fic that put a lot of effort into fleshing out the girl characters that were underutilized by canon and realizing that i normally didn't care that much about those characters, but that fic series brought them to life in a way where canon just doesn't feel right anymore bc there's huge chunks missing

when i'm asked to name female characters i like, i lock up. i don't think it's a personal failing, i just have a bad memory and psych myself out constantly when i'm put on the spot. but a lot of the time, i do kinda brush past the girls because i just don't click with them, or because they're written very flatly, or i do like them but i like their guy friends a little more and oops i barely draw her despite her being part of a trio i think of as inseparable

but like. man. i'm the oc guy. i'm the "imprints on a character with minimal screentime and makes him part of my personality" guy. i'm the one making blorbos out of basically nothing.

i could be the person that cares. i just need to actually try.

i was thinking abt the like. the thing where people will defend not writing female characters bc "well they're so flat and boring bc the creators forgot to give her a personality" and like, yeah, that's definitely a thing that happens. it can be harder to click with a character that has nothing going for her besides what feels like a checklist that usually includes "exists to be love interest". i get that

..but also this keeps coming up in response to fanfic? the thing where you are building off of something? the thing where you are already taking characters and adding extra dimensions to them? the thing where people will grab a random background character with a name on the wiki page and write thousands of words about them?

the world is your oysters. you can literally do whatever. if you feel like she's bland or badly written, you can fix that. it is literally within your power to go "okay, what would she be like if she was written by somebody that cared". bc you could be the person that cared. i'm just saying,

[casscainmainly]

I really like your meta content on Cass and one of the reasons why I actually read Batgirl 2000 and 2024 is some of the things I read here

maybe you've already answered something similar, but... thoughts/headcanons/whatever you want on Duke&Cass? I would love to see more on them in the future ngl I liked what I saw with Orphan

OMG DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HAPPY THIS ASK MAKES ME. ANOTHER BG 2000 AND 24 READER THE WORLD IS AMAZING. I hope you enjoyed them!!!!!!! And also asking about Duke & Cass... this ask is everything to me 😭😭

I'm not the best at headcanons but I made a post wayyy back where I was talking about their book tastes, and I think they'd have a little detective fiction book club!! But Cass is into cosies like Agatha Christie whereas Duke is into American hardboiled a la Raymond Chandler, and they'd argue a lot about which genre is better. Also, they don't read books at the same time anymore because Duke gets really focused on solving the mystery before it's revealed which in turn sparks Cass' competitive spirit and then they're both competing to solve the murder and forget to enjoy the book. So they've decided the club is just reading together in silence, sipping hot chocolate 💖. And sometimes if they get tired of reading Duke will play some heavy metal for Cass to dance to!!

One interesting thing about them is their respective views on family. Cass' morality is so predicated on the belief that children do not have to be like their parents, whereas Duke's outlook is steeped in honouring and furthering his parents' legacy. And they can both project these ideas onto other people - Cass with the various children she meets in Batgirl (2000), and Duke with his somewhat snide comments on other people's families in WAR and Gotham Nights. In certain scenarios, I can see this being a point of tension for them. I ALSO very much miss their siblinghood from Outsiders, I really hope he shows up in BG 24 soon!!!

Thinking about BG 24, Cass associating Duke with 'hope' is sooo important to me. It's something that doesn't quite come across in Outsiders, but Duke as a character is BUILT on hope. All throughout Snyder's writing of Duke and We Are Robin, Duke is a symbol for hope, rehabilitation, and belief in Gotham as a city. Cass pulling that out as her main takeaway from Duke is so MAGICAL. Like it shows such a deep level of respect & understanding of Duke and what he stands for!!! And hope is a trait also built into Cass' character, a fundamental tenet of her belief in redemption. This hope that people can and will be better is ingrained in both of them, and that's why although I think they do butt heads, they ultimately love each other so much and connect to each other so well.

ANYWAY I'm eagerly anticipating the next Duke + Cass interaction, may it come soon!!!

[nickandjuneendgame]

Nick and June scene

Today, for my first post ever, I'd like to talk about one scene in particular. Obviously, I love all the Nick-June scene ( I mean, I'm literaly obsessed with them, but I'm keeping that for another post. And for my therapist 😅).

So, in season 2 episode 13, we have, for me, one of the most beautiful scene between Nick and June ever. It's one of my favorite and let me tell you why.

In this scene, June is in her bedroom after being slapped by Fred just a moment before. ( She slapped him back as well, and gosh, it felt so good to watch!!! You go girl !!! ). Rita is in the room with her and a moment after, who's coming too ? Our dear Nick ! He looked upset, worried for June. As she walks by him, Rita says " You're girlfriend is a badass ! ". And then, he smiled. Not just because he found that funny, but because, for the first time, someone called June his girlfriend. Not offred. Not the handmaid. Not even June. But his girlfriend. Someone else knows about them being together. It's not just their secret anymore. Someone they can both trust is aware of what's going on between them. Maybe not fully, but enough. And we can see on his face that this is something big to him. Something he never could, or hoped to hear one day. " Your girlfriend".

June told him " it's okay" as soon as Rita leaves the room. She repeated that multiple times, because she knows that Nick needs to hear that. Not just because he's worried about her but because he feels so much guilt, so much sadness about Eden. Eden just got murdered for falling in love with someone else. And he feels like he should have been nicer to her, that it's his fault, in a way, that she died. And he can't forgive himself for that. But in the same time, he loves June so much ( and Eden being only 15, let's be honest) I don't think he was able to handle things differently without feeling like he betrayed June and the way he feels about her. And we can see all that just by the look in the eyes of Max. What an amazing actor, really ! No words, not a single one, but we still see how much pain he's in just with his eyes. And June knows it too. Of course she knows. So she stands up, walks towards him and gently touch his cheek saying that it's okay. And we can see Nick truly showing his vulnerability, his fragility to June ( and to us ) perhaps for the first time. He didn't hide it anymore to protect June or himself. He is his true self at this exact moment. He desperately needed June to comfort him, to show him that this is not his fault. That he is not alone. Because Nick always had to be alone in his life. Not because he wanted to. But because people always bailed on him. He never had someone he can rely on. Until June. He always had June's back. He always protected her. But who protected him ? Who was there for him when he desperately needed it ? With whom can he show his true self, his true feelings ? June is his person. The one who he had and will fight for. And at that moment, he needed to hear that everything is gonna be okay. That he's not alone anymore. That he can rely on someone, on June. And June knows that. That's why this moment is so important. I like that we were able to see Nick's fragility and to see June saving him where we were used to see Nick saving her over and over again. He finally can show who he is, his failures, his weeknesses and be open. He needed that so much. And we can see that with only his expressions, his body language, without a single word.

After that, June takes Nick to finally see his daughter. Something he wanted for so long ! Something he never thought he could do. We never saw Nick so full of emotions before. Holding his daughter in his arms, with June by his side, is something that he was longing for so long. He didn't think he would ever be able to do that. And once more, we can see all of that with only his body language, his expressions, his eyes. For a moment, they are a real family. And it's important because that's something he really wanted but can't have in gilead. To be a family with June and their baby. This scene, with Nick holding his baby in his arms for the first time ( and in his head, perhaps for the last time ) is magical. We can see how much it means for both of them. And that shot where we see Rita smiling watching them! This small moment of pure happiness, so rare in Gilead.

And then, the first " I love you " from June to Nick. The first time she acknowledge her feelings for him, out loud. The first time she really opens up to him in this way. And he needed to hear those words. We can see how relief he is, how much it means to him to hear that she, in fact, really loves him. He always doubted that she can ever really feels this way about him. That he was worthy of her love. I think, deep down, that he always thought that she was too good for him. He said it himself later in the show : " I'm nothing ". But in that moment, the first time she says I love you, he truly believes her. He has her love, and they are a family. That's all he ever wanted. Even if it's just for a while. This moment is theirs. A beautiful bubble of happiness in this horrible world.

So, that's it. That's why this scene means so much to me. I can watch it and watch it all over again and never be bored of it. ( In fact, I can never be bored of any of their scenes actually 😅). I'm so sorry for my bad english, this is not my language. I hope that it's understandable.

What about you ? What is your favorite scene, or at least one of your favorite ? The one that you could watch over and over again ?

[raayllum]

Ezran spends basically every episode that features his perspective in 3/4 seasons of arc 2 doing one of three things:

Feeling responsible for his kingdom

Believing in the innate goodness of others

Trying to fix things and be a support for other people

I think points two and three are occasionally overlooked for a few reasons. The first is that Ezran has a mini arc in 4x01—4x03 (with the first two and possibly three being commonly regarded as weaker episodes) that do the heavy lifting work of establishing Ezran's post-timeskip characterization vs who he was at the beginning or ending of season 3. When we look at Ezran in 4x01 and 4x02, he's largely the same as he was post-3x02: he wants to create change, he believes that he can, and while balancing being king and being himself, he's walking the line fairly well. We see this in how jovial his initial council meeting is in 4x01: brightly lit, not too serious, Bait has a seat, jelly tarts, and the hopeful air; Zubeia's visit will change how people see dragons.

Then it doesn't. Ezran ignored Opeli's reservations (4x01, 4x03) and of others she presented anonymously. He thought they could just move past things, and he was wrong. But instead of responding with anger or force the way Soren does, Ezran switches gears, and we get his infamous speech that shows how he's changing since S3 ("if I just give people opportunities to do the right thing, they will") in comparison to S4: If I just acknowledge their feelings, they'll do the right thing, because everyone is inherently good and wants good things.

I had a speech planned for today. It was about peace and love and hope. But I think I left something out. I ignored something that was true. I denied something that is undeniable. We are angry! I am angry. I have been hurt. My Dad was killed when I was nine years old. My Mom was taken from me before I could even remember her. It hurts! I feel pain about this and I am angry! We all want peace and we all want love. [...] It’s not that easy or simple. Because people are still hurting and they are still angry. We can’t ignore that, or pretend it will go away. Somehow, we have to hold it all in our hearts at the same time. We have to acknowledge the weight of the pain and loss, but open up our eyes and allow ourselves to hope and maybe forgive and love again. We have to give today’s children a chance to inherit a future filled with peace. 

And it is a beautiful speech, but it is a very simple, well-meaning one at the same time. Not everyone, deep down, wants peace or thinks of it in the same way as you do ("You want to hate. You want to hurt someone else"); not everyone cares about their children's future (for both of these, Karim, I'm looking at you). But Ezran's initial transformation here is rewarded and reaffirmed by Zubeia.

So this is the mindset that Ezran carries on throughout arc 2, and in many ways he treats everyone the way he's treated Zubeia, someone who inflicted harm on him but did have her heart changed (circa 3x09) and who, upon having her genuine pain/grief acknowledged rather than swept under the rug (4x03), has been able to heal. Him seeing goodness in others, and working with them, has yielded results.

Therefore, at this point, Ezran believes wholeheartedly in the innate goodness of others.

People might inflict harm, but they have a good reason; they've been in pain. If I can just get through to Rex Igneous ("that's what you haven't had in forever, a surprise"), if I just explain to Akiyu and Finnegrin the stakes of what's going on, if I can barter with Karim and talk him down ("Then it's not too late, you can still choose love") then they'll see they don't have to do bad things anymore. They'll let go of their hate and choose love, just like how the crowd seemingly did in 4x03 after Ezran empathized with them through his own experiences.

And this ties into how much internalized responsibility Ezran takes on and his choices in arc 2, particularly in S4.

He spends all of 4x01 trying to give Callum a good birthday ("why aren't you celebrating?") but it doesn't work, because his brother is still in pain. He spends all of 4x03 trying to encourage good relations with Zubeia, but it doesn't work out either because people are still hurt/angry. He tries to get his brother to open up in 4x05 but is wrong, at first, about what Callum needs to open up about. He works to bring the group together in 4x06 when they're in shambles ("don't you remember who you are?") and this is his biggest success in the season thus far. He spends all of 4x08 & a chunk of 4x09 trying to reason and get through to Rex Igneous, only for it to end with him being slammed into a wall. He gets an actual dragon diplomatic success in early S5, but greatly misjudges Finnegrin; he makes a number of calls (keep the prison here, don't look for Zubeia) in 6x01 that he quickly realizes he has to go back on. In 6x07 he tries to reason with Karim, and it doesn't pan out. He fails, over and over again.

Katolis being burned down is just the last straw; it, and Ezran's efforts and failures in achieving peace, are stress points that have been building for seasons at this point.

So finally his worldview — that everyone has goodness inside them, that everyone wants peace ("You want Janai to attack!"), that everyone has good reasons for the harm they inflict — snaps.

This is before, I might add, the final vestiges of his True Heart leave him. He takes Aanya's advice of pursuing defences — pursuing weaponry ("We have to be strong enough") — before his brother's betrayal. He seeks to destroy Sol Regem and jails Runaan, who surrenders, before it, too. Part of this is because the first blow happened a long time ago. Runaan even confirms this indirectly himself, citing Ezran's eyes ("But the moment I saw your eyes" / "we each have innocent eyes to experience the world’s beauty in a simple way"): Ezran's eyes, his heart, have already been fundamentally altered, and he knows it.

EZRAN: Everything changed the day you came! You killed my father!

EZRAN: When you grow up, there are changes you don't expect, and you have to face things you're not ready for. Callum told me that. [...] But I can't run away from growing up. Now that I'm king, I have to go home.

Throughout arc 2, he's struggled more and more to retain what is left of his true heart. And this all culminates in Ezran deciding that maybe his own goodness isn't innate either. His loss of innocence — that people have good reasons for doing terrible things, that there are certain things they wouldn't do ("You're lying! Callum would never do [dark magic again]!") — mirrors Terry's crisis of faith (and his own actions) for a reason.

Ezran starts spiralling out. He feels like he's completely failed his kingdom after episodes of emphasis on just how much he cares about Katolis (4x04, 5x02, 6x01, 6x05). He no longer believes in others. He always had spades of self doubt, but we see him reach a pretty severe rock bottom out of desperation and despair because he can't even help take care of the people he loves anymore, either. All of his prior goals have crumbled around him. He's not a king ("king of what? King of ashes?"), he's not a friend, he's not a brother.

Alongside the loss of his true heart, he's not a child: "But only if you can move past your childish hesitation..." "I have never been one to hesitate" as he takes up the Nova Blade and intends to use it for — as far as he knows — permanent murder by his own direct hand.

Because the loss of your True Heart, for Ezran, is not so much about the world itself as it is the people in the world, and yourself by extension.

It upends your belief in your own moral certainty as well. Would you do something terrible for a 'good reason', and are you sure that you have one?

We are forced to make choices, compromises, sacrifices. And they change us forever.

When Ezran meets Aaravos, he's already decided that he's guilty and someone to judge; he decides that he has to kill him. That his "precision violence was preferable, necessary even, to prevent far greater bloodshed". But, of course, it isn't, not necessarily because Aaravos isn't terrible and dangerous... but because after seasons of sacrificing and compromising and making choices right alongside his friends, the Archdragons make one instead.

Just as Terry helps reaffirm to Ezran that people still care and can still change, the Archdragons help build him a more solid foundation. Not everyone wants peace and love and forgiveness. Not everybody can. Forgiveness and goodness are not automatically inherent in adulthood, but that doesn't mean they can't exist. That doesn't mean you stop trying.

It just means that you try despite it. They are not dreams. They're choices. Sacrifices. Compromises. They change us forever, and they're worth it.

[chaoslifeforme]

The blurb shared is fascinating. It's like I felt what Davrin and the creature did.

Tag to anyone seeing this that's not already tagged and gets an idea from any part of this post.

I originally did think of how it fits my Rooks (especially Veryl), and I may write a little something about them... someday, maybe. However it's Davrin week, so I hope it's okay if I just talk about how fitting the lyric is for in game Davrin.

Major Spoilers for the game of course:

"I'm prepared to sacrifice my life, I would gladly dot it twice"- from the song "Mercy" by Shawn Mendes. Even from the most general look, the preparedness asserted in the lyric is a third of the wardens motto. "In Death Sacrifice" say the wardens, reminding themselves in every refrain of what they are working towards. The song repeats it too. The singer and the wardens drill this idea of their own mortality being a tool to maintain their nobility. No one shows this better than Davrin.

Davrin needs a specific purpose. The wardens gave him that and he's itching to give back not just to the wardens but also to the world. Even when he becomes more disillusioned with the wardens later in the game he's still embodying that core belief. The moral checkmate of being so certain of your cause that you are willing to die for it. Davrin literally tries to die for it at least twice in game. Three times if he leads the distraction team. (You know what they say, third time's the charm... ouch, we cry).

The first time where Davrin tries to save everyone at the expense of himself in game is at Weisshaupt. He has a banter with whatever companion Rook brought with them about how ready, "prepared" he is to do the right thing. We can't really argue it's the wrong thing to do, because it seems the only way anyone left survives. He nominates himself to lose everything to save everyone, since there's no way out. The noblest of sacrifices. A purely good motive of trying to save not only the remaining wardens, but also the whole world. There is truly no better way to go. Even if the sacrifice cuts deep and he tears up about leaving Assan, he is fulfilling his purpose.

Davrin is also a man who watched the symbol of the purpose he dedicated his life to (Weisshaupt) being destroyed and overrun by the very forces it's meant to stand against. He's lost most of those sworn to work with him. How many of his friends do we think we arrived just in time to watch die? How many of the bodies we ran past were people with whom he argued about who would die so the rest could live? How many demoralizing losses can one man take in the span of minutes/hours? Of course, he would gladly give up this pain. All he has to do is lose a little more and it'll all be over. The world will be slightly better off, and the pain of grief will not be his burden for much longer.

And then the First Warden shows up, and maybe he won't have to lose anymore. Maybe he gets to raise Assan. Maybe Davrin will have to mourn more than just the symbol of his purpose. Except Ghilanain intervenes.

He will actually have to do it, unshed tears in his eyes, sword in his hand, and resolve in his heart. Years of training that built his capabilities and solidified his certainty about his purpose, all leading to this moment. This is what it was all for.

We could count this as the second time he's "prepared to sacrifice his life", say he's already proven he "would gladly do it twice". However, I am counting Weisshaupt as one for my sanity's sake.

So when things don't go to plan when he's still here after all that he's shocked, betrayed, lost and many other understandable emotions. How is he suppose to go on when the fortress, the physical representation of his purpose couldn't. How can one person grieve so many lost? How could Davrin have failed to make the noble sacrifice? It was not supposed to go this way. Was he somehow not noble enough? Something went wrong with his sacrifice. He has to fix it.

And Rook talks him out of that, reminds him he's still needed for Assan. One conversation sure can't fix everything, but he keeps trying. For Assan, for Rook, for all his lost friends.

When another archdemon shows up, this is Davrin's chance to fix it. To fulfill his purpose, to give everything and save everyone. He starts preparing in obvious and physical ways, like working out with Taash, but also in less obvious ways. After Blood in Arlathan, we get the first outing that does not have the excuse of being for Assan. It's just two friends drinking magic/drug tea. He says it's because of Antoine, but what if this is a way to ensure Rook has good memories of him? Or a reminder to Davrin that he's sacrificing more than just time with Assan, he's also losing time with Rook. A way to get as much as he can from life before he goes, for real this time. Something went wrong when he killed Ghilanain's archdemon, but it won't happen again. It will go right this time.

As glad as he is to be filling his purpose, he's also more aware of what he's losing. Weisshaupt was unexpected chaos. The strike against Elgarnan is planned, he can actually appreciate the time before he goes. Once the griffins are rescued, he even tries to see if Assan will leave to join his family. An example of being willing to make slightly smaller sacrifices on Davrin's part. It's also one that could make his later larger sacrifice easier.

Those are the two times where Davrin tries to sacrifice his life for certain in game. He's truly "prepared to sacrifice" his life and he does "gladly do it twice", at least. Without counting the choice. He's a perfect martyr but also a really complex character and I can't stop trying to give him the chance to learn to live without the goal of sacrifice. To live for himself, to build more of his own purpose which we only get to start to see in game.

Thursday Bangers!!

Rules for your Copy and Paste: Free form a blurb or drawing based on the weekly lyrics prompt. It doesn't have to include the prompt just whatever you're inspired to write, write it! Then tag some friends so they can play as well. It doesn't have to be finished on Thursday just post it whenever you can (you have a whole week between Thursdays).

This week we are going a little Warden flavored with our lyric for the upcoming Davrin Week hosted by @datvcompanionweeks. Please consider contributing to their amazing projects even if it's simply be reblogging or reading a work.

Of course your offering doesn't have to be Davrin flavored but you guessed it... mine will be!

I'm prepared to sacrifice my life I would gladly do it twice - Mercy by Shawn Mendes

No pressure tagging @himluv @thedissonantverses @mythals-whore @serensama @whispersleo @tarasmom @hedwigoprah @becausedragonage @kindlyfeline @davrinsleftpectoral @fenrelmercar @plasticfreckles @kai-dimir @teamtakagi @a-mumbling-nerd @fiberpunk027 @larknnightingale @jenn2d2 @hyperions-light @tkwritesdumbassassins @feelslikepants @trash-nerd @cute-ellyna @brennacedria @lottiesnotebook @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @operative-arrow @librivore42 @obsessed-with-book-boyfriends @fireheartedpup @mikylechase @bonesandivy @vime5 @notyourmamasdeerbat @griffongrey @master-of-the-elements @chaoslifeforme @carrieing0n @lotusrhys @serstolas @beachhotdog

And if you are reading this...

You

Reminder if you want to be added/removed from the weekly tag list just let me know. Also please tag me when you post your bangers I love to read and share them (though I also browse the tag)

Davrin has never known what it's like to lose. To feel helpless. But as the beast pins him beneath its mass of fur and muscle, for the first time he feels true fear tingle up his spine.

But there is hope as he spies the glint of his sword just outside his reach. Knocked from his grasp by the monster's fierce tackle. And he debates if he can grab for it faster than the wolf can react. Before teeth can tear muscle from bone and his life will end in a final pitiful cry.

Not that he is afraid to die. Wardens are meant for this purpose. Prepared to sacrifice their life. He would gladly die, twice even, if it meant slaying the danger threatening his forest.

There's a split second where he hesitates. His eyes meet the violet irises of the beast’s, and he's transfixed on their glow. Something familiar, akin to recognition between them, stays his hand. A warmth that starts deep in the pit of his stomach and spreads throughout his limbs. And he finds himself unwilling to move despite the hold on him loosening.

Maybe it's madness. He's heard of the Taint consuming hunters in time, though most die well before those years come. But whatever it is, it seems to have seized the creature as well.

His brow furrows in confusion as the weight shifts off him as the wolf leans back on its haunches. Head tilting in an almost intelligent way. As if it is debating his existence. As if it now contemplates further harm.

He knows he should grab his weapon and strike the killing blow, but he simply sits up and watches. Both of them staring, waiting for the other to make a move. Until the beast bows its head in a sign of acceptance. And for a moment, a foolish desire so strong seizes him that it takes everything in him to fight it down. His hands tingle to reach out and touch. To run his fingers through the brilliant white fur. To make a connection that he knows will alter his life forever.

There's a small eternity as they silently sit there together. Until some unspoken thing seems to pass between them. When the very air seems to shift. A gasp escaping him as the monster begins to transform.

[hopleii]

mha boys with dead reader hcs . . .

content: angst. thats all im saying LMAOO jk. katsuki x reader, izuku x reader, kirishima x reader, headcanons, angst, reader is dead, not proofread and was written with jeff buckley playing in the background so its probably broken sentences because im on my period and sobbing rn

a/n: i wanted to cry but i also wanted to make it everyone's problem

KATSUKI

becomes louder in every way to block out the grief.

trains harder, yells louder, angrier, more explosive...but nothing blocks the pain out. it's louder than his biggest explosions.

no one notices that he's hurting, though. they think it made him stronger. and he thought that too.

one day, he was training with kirishima, headphones on and blasting his hype music, but he forgot to put the shuffle feature off.

mid-spar, your favorite song played. you added it as a joke but he never removed it because he wanted to see why you liked the stupid song so much

he pauses, looks at kirishima, and walks away. he sat on the bench, hands cradling his face

it's no use, though. his calloused hands will never replicate the feeling of the warm ones that were yours.

looks through your phone sometimes because you gave him the password.

he always looks through it, looking through the photos you took, your notes app

all were full of so much love. so lovely, sweet, and so awfully you.

watches all the reels or videos you sent but he never watched because he was too lazy. he regrets not watching them.

IZUKU

stalks your profile.

it brings him peace and sadness all at the same time.

peace because it's like everything was frozen in time---your posts of happy moments, unforgettable memories, it's like everything is still there. immortalized and frozen

but sadness because he knows you wont post anymore, because he knows you won't gain new memories and happy moments.

your contact is still in his phone, and he refused to let your chats be buried, so he pinned your contact.

backreads everything and when he gets to the top/the first message, he regrets not talking to you enough.

everyone is telling him to move on, to pick himself up, that he has the whole future ahead of him. but he doesn't want to see that future without you being there to witness it.

he still tries, though. he tries so fucking hard to keep it together because he knows it's what you'd want.

unlike most people who try to forget, he doesn't. he doesn't want to forget anything.

he still has you on his wallpaper and lockscreen, your photobooth photos still on his phone case

he's scared of forgetting what you sound like, because your voice always gave him comfort.

replays all the voice mails you sent him, even if it's just you screaming into the mic.

KIRISHIMA

soft, quiet grief. it's quiet, but all over the place. like everyone can feel a bit of the pain he's going through.

still friendly and fun, but his smile never fully reaches his eyes.

when he's doing something and he needs to grab something, he still calls out for you.

"babe, can you get my--...oh."

struggles dyeing the back part of his hair because he got so used to you doing it for him.

he often forgets you're not there anymore.

whenever he passes by a coffee shop, he'll pull out his phone and text his location. but before he hits send, he remembers.

when he's shopping for himself and he finds something he likes, like a jacket maybe, he looks over his shoulder expecting you to be there, because he's so used to getting your opinion when buying new things.

STILL TEXTS GOOD MORNING OR GOOD NIGHT.

whenever he's with friends, he's not ashamed to insert you into the conversation

"y/n would've found that funny", "hey, don't talk like that. y/n would kill you." "fuck, i miss y/n."

tried to date again ONCE and it lasted 2 days because he couldn't stop talking about you.

he's never getting over you. you will always be his greatest love.

© — hopleii

[blairdii]

do you know what i think?

i feel like all these people who hate lando are the same people who said that they would break the generational trauma cycle but think it doesn’t count on the internet because they still need some sort of outlet for that trauma.

like, they hate him for being sensitive and wearing his heart on his sleeve, because maybe someone in their life made them feel bad about being sensitive or made them feel like wearing your heart on your sleeve is a bad thing to do. they were called weak for doing that. so now they’re calling lando weak.

they hate him for having an ego, even though he’s not got as much ego as other drivers. maybe because they were taught that doing anything for yourself is selfish and shows that you’re egotistical. so him winning and him wanting to win makes him selfish and egotistical.

they hold him accountable for things he said six years ago. like they get held accountable for saying things they don’t even remember anymore, and they’ve suppressed everything that someone else said because they can’t hold them accountable.

they hate him because he hasn’t suffered enough for not being confident or whatever, that he had supportive parents, and more importantly, rich parents. because it’s drilled into their heads that only suffering = mental health problems. a rich, white guy in a rich sport is not suffering, he’s living the dream life.

they hate him because lando blames himself instead of the team or the car, except they hear him blaming the team or the car. just like when they were blaming themselves but someone else changed it completely and twisted their words to take it that they’re blaming someone else.

they hate him for having a life and travelling while also being good on track. because they were told that to focus on something, you have to let go of everything else, and now they’ve achieved that dream but they’re still alone.

they hate him for having emotions, because they were taught that emotion makes you weak and vulnerable and should never be seen by other people. how dare he have the privilege to be open about his emotions and they don’t?

they hate him for wanting to be the best, because they wanted to be the best too but someone compared them to someone else and made them feel like shit, so now they’re comparing him to someone else.

they hate him for wanting to earn every win, because it reminds them of how much blood sweat and tears they gave for their dreams and wished that a little luck would’ve helped them out instead of someone else.

they hate him for not being ruthless, because again, they were taught that being ruthless will help you achieve anything and everything, and they can’t fathom the idea that someone gentle was on his way to achieving his dreams.

they hate him for opening up about his life because they think he wants sympathy. no one gave them sympathy, or even empathy when they were growing up, so why should he get any?

idk if a lot of this made sense or not. it’s my post exam brain. but, some of the reasons that antis use to hate on lando could just be linked to trauma… of course there are people who are plain bullies too and like to hurt someone else to make themselves feel better. but idk… have fun reading this, i guess?

you are so right. a lot of them have unprocessed trauma, and it's so palpable in the way they treat lando. they can externalise all the feelings they've repressed unto him because they know they're never going to face the consequences for it.

and frankly speaking? most of them will never break their generational cycle of misfortune. if they can't comprehend how their actions and words affect another living human being despite there being a disconnect (in one way or another), then they don't have the maturity nor the emotional intelligence to not pass that on to their children. it's why i always say "we're in big 2025 and still making fun of people for their mental struggles?" because we're in times too progressive to be doing this. it's sad, it's pathetic, and atp too many fans crave validation from the majority that they'd rather have moral failings than just accept being the few who are disliked for being right and speaking truth.

people cannot compute the fact that their trauma or past experiences isn't an excuse to treat people the way they do, and as they grow up they'll realise that they definitely will not got scot free like they would online after battering lando to hell and back, and that life is beyond a phone screen.

a lot of them also can't understand how lando trangresses everything that's expected of a high performance athlete. men will come at him for being mentally weak and "feminine" or not "masculine enough" because they've got this warped perception of success as a man. it's why male fans would, so weirdly, be like 'yeahhh the abuse max got wasn't good BUT it made him the driver he is today so it's not all bad'.

they're never gonna break their trauma because they haven't realised how to live without it. they haven't realised that you don't have to abide by a certain criteria to do well, so they'll take it out on lando and continue to tell him he's not good enough and how he 'needs a mentor to fix his mentality'.

drivers are not robots, they're people with feelings and emotions just as much as we have them. i'm not gonna sit here and tell someone to shut up about their struggles when being open about it is not only a way to educate people and say 'hey, even us athletes, at the pinnacle of our sport, struggle too', but also to supplement that with encouragement and say 'so you can be open about your challenges, it's not a bad thing'.

lando is the most emotionally mature and intelligent driver on that grid. no fan can convince otherwise, and he will be remembered in 100 years for what he's done. being hated for being human is quite memorable no?

[theshadowsingersraven]

Kind of adjacent to a post I saw earlier and I think this is similar to a point the OP was trying to make but moreso I want to make.

I hate how much people can at times act like Azriel's romantic potential starts and ends with Elain. I get having a bad taste in your mouth after the BC since he was using unhealthy coping mechanisms. But Elain is also avoiding the reality of her mating bond, and I've personally always interpreted Azriel and Elain to have the same depth of feelings.

I believe they're both using each other.

I don't really think Azriel hurting Elain in that moment or using his attraction to her as an unhealthy coping mechanism is really that much of an indictment on his character. I also don't believe that Azriel would become a "player" or "scummy" for projecting whatever lingering feelings he has towards Mor and the idea that they would be mates onto Elain now only to end up with Gwyn in the end. Especially if we don't know if Elain is doing the exact same thing he is, consciously or unconsciously. And even if it was that deep or if Elain harbors hurt or resentment, characters hurt their love interests all the time, even when they don't end up together. (Chaol, Nesryn, & Aelin being immediate examples that come to mind).

So I don't really feel like it's fair to center Elain and their BC interaction in how Azriel is characterized around romance as a whole when we have books worth of him pining over Mor from a distance.

We have him volunteering to go dancing with Mor (something we learn he later does enjoy all on his own in the HOFAS BC). We have him acting on the desire to protect her despite laying on the floor bleeding out before Hybern, for example.

And even his platonic interactions show his kindness and overall thoughtfulness, particularly with Feyre, Nesta, and Gwyn. But I want to showcase the moment that, in hindsight, made me love Azriel as much as I do:

“I don’t really know where I fit in anymore,” I admitted, perhaps only because the wind was screeching around us and Rhys had already winnowed ahead to where Cassian’s dark form flew—beyond the wall. “I’ve been alive almost five and a half centuries, and I’m not sure of that, either,” Azriel said.

This line didn't initially stand out to me at first until we get into ACOFAS, where Rhys says this about Azriel:

Azriel studied the map for a long minute. I gave him the silence, knowing that he’d speak only when he was damn well ready. As boys, Cassian and I had devoted hours to pummeling Az, trying to get him to speak. He’d never once yielded.

To me, this categorizes Azriel as a character that is never kind out of obligation or expectation, but simply kind and thoughtful out of the conscious choice to be this way. He chooses when to speak, when to take action.

Does that mean he's without flaw or that people are always going to like him? No, absolutely not. No character is going to be universally loved. And I understand that favoring characters has so much to do with personal preference on top of it, which is never truly going to be "right" or "wrong".

My post isn't really to try and convince people to like Azriel, it's more to acknolwedge that Elain is but one brief aspect to his overall character's romantic (and subsequently healing) arc and shouldn't be the only lense through which we view him. Azriel has been alive for over 500 years, and Elain has only been in his presence for two of those years. Mor has been around for all of them.

I think it's more prescient to view Azriel's romantic potential through more than just the lense of how he interacted with Elain.

[deathbxnny]

Hoping Tumblr doesn’t swallow my ask… may I request some headcanons of Capitano and Baizhu x Acheron!Reader please.

Sorry for taking 5 eons to post this and thank you again for another interesting request!<33

Content: Memory loss, slight angst?, fluff, established romantic relationships, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》CAPITANO

You two met during one of his missions in Natlan. Having once again forgotten where you were going and what the purpose of your initial reason to being here was, you failed to explain to Capitano's soldiers why exactly you had wandered into their camp. After a fight that ended with you being victorious, the calmly observing Harbinger took you in wordlessly which kick-started your relationship.

The memory loss wasn't an issue or a burden to him, his patience never ending when it came to you. He'll remember anything you need for you. Once he realizes that you keep things in mind easier by relating emotions to them, he tries his best to do just that with things that he deems as important.

Capitano sometimes worries about your safety, not because he thinks that you aren't strong enough to take care of yourself. It's just that your condition definitely doesn't make things easier for you, so expect someone to be with you at all times, whether you're aware with it or not.

He never pries into your past and never do you in his. Mainly because you don't remember yours, which makes you quite the mystery at times, but he isn't any better.

Finds it a little cute that you enjoy eating peaches, and gets you a huge supply of them just to see the faintest smile on your lips.

》BAIZHU

When you were dragged into his Pharmacy by Qiqi, he was definitely quite confused by your presence. Not only did you seem foreign to the nation, but you genuinely couldn't remember a thing. Why were you in Liyue? You couldn't tell him. Who exactly were you? No clue. What was your name again? Took you a moment, but at least you somewhat remembered that!

Either way, you were taken in by him that day, as he thought that you may have just hit your head somehow... but that turned out to be a permanent stay a while later after all. At least Qiqi now had a friend who was just exactly like her in many ways... which brought it's own problems.

He tried to treat your memory loss the way he treated Qiqi's, by giving you a little notebook with important information to keep on you at all times. Also a map to lead you back home during errand runs. You and the zombie girl weren't allowed to go on little missions together though, as that never ended well.

You and Qiqi always had a supply of coco goat milk and peaches to keep you entertained and satisfied whilst the man worked during the day.

Baizhu hopes to cure you both of your conditions well enough one day, so that you can live on without him when he isn't around anymore.