#and this comes up a lot in terms of people being sympathetic to them

[darkfire359]

Once again reminded of just how baffling it is when people criticize the woobification of characters by saying it’s something that fans disproportionately do with men. Just…huh?

Call it whatever you want. Babygirlification (where do you think that word comes from?). Poor little meow meow-ism (remember that the most literal and canonical poor little meow meow is Catra from She-Ra). The practice of looking at a character who is mean/evil/villainous and going “aww, cute little person just needs some love” is ABSOLUTELY done more with FEMALE characters.

Look up the TVTropes page for “High Heel Face Turn” or “Females are more Innocent”. The idea that women can’t be villains without some kind of trauma that excuses their actions is SOOO common. As is the idea that they can be fixed if they get a love interest.

Look at the concepts of “tsundere” and “kuudere”. These are some of the most common archetypes in anime—the girl that is mean or cold to others, but who is soft and sweet on the inside, just unable to express affection properly.

Part of OFMD’s entire premise is that the idea of looking at a scary guy in a villainous profession and going “he’s a sweetheart deep down” is *unusual* in our culture. Now, Tumblr is a specific slice of culture, and there are certainly no shortage of male characters here who get the poor little meow meow treatment. But it’s definitely not a male-specific or even male-leaning phenomenon.

[silvermoon424]

Coming to terms with the fact that society hates autistic people

I just saw some comments that were like "If you're autistic, neurotypical people hate you" and "growing up as autistic in our neurotypical society is almost always inherently traumatizing." And you know what? I absolutely agree. It really resonates with me to hear fellow autistic and generally neurodivergent people talk about the hate, rejection, misunderstanding, and even dehumanization we receive from most neurotypicals.

My entire childhood was spent being the "weird girl" until I got good enough at masking to fit in better. Even now, as an adult, I get negative comments from my own (neurotypical) parents when I display certain neurodivergent behaviors. My family is always like "that's so Katy" and shake their heads when I act "too" autistic and it feels so fucking patronizing. I've had negative experiences and even disciplinary action at jobs I've had for exhibiting neurodivergent behavior (usually related to my ADHD, but sometimes autism too). My entire fucking life I've been told by society to not act too much like myself or else I'll put everyone off.

And then you see people being sympathetic to the parents of autistic children who abuse or even kill them. "It's sad, but it's understandable" neurotypical people say. Videos of autistic children having meltdowns are full of people saying that they should be locked up because they're no better than animals. We're seen as a burden, a drain on society, who are only tolerated if we learn to act "normal" and don't make the neurotypicals uncomfortable. Autistic people are front and center in "cringe" compilations and are ruthlessly bullied.

If I'm being honest, I'm still unlearning a lot of ableist thoughts that were instilled in me growing up. I sometimes catch myself thinking that other autistic people are annoying, and I have to stop myself and think "Do you really find them annoying, or were you programmed to be dismissive of people who don't act neurotypically enough?"

Anyway, idk where I'm going with this text wall. The older I get, the more I become aware of how much I've been harmed by an extremely ableist society, and it breaks my heart that more neurodivergent kids are being taught to suppress their true selves the way I was.

[kradogsrats]

I've been kind of hesitant to voice this analysis/theory because honestly even I find it hella depressing, but... here goes.

At the end of s6e5: "Moonless Night," we have this kind of cryptic sequence with Viren:

Now, this isn't exactly subtle. It starts with a callback to Aaravos's "the human mage, already tainted by darkness and destined to play right into my hands," line (and a nice Callum > fake pearl > real pearl > Viren cut sequence) and ends with the kind of spider-and-fly imagery you bust out when you want the audience to really get the point. This sequence tells us in no uncertain terms, Aaravos will inevitably use Viren again... at least one more time.

I say it's cryptic because the eventual payoff is a lot more subtle, particularly since everything escalates so rapidly and is actually presented as a crazy, unexpected twist. Basically, there's no follow-up until s6e8: "We All Fall Down," where we have a highly specific series of events:

Sol Regem, under Phaaravos's direction, attacks Katolis

Viren decides to make the sacrifice of both doing dark magic again and losing his own life to protect the people from Sol Regem's fire

Viren successfully casts the spell and the people are protected

Phaaravos does this:

Once Viren has cast the spell (and is probably dying), Aaravos is pleased and ends Sol Regem's attack.

Aaravos needs three things to free himself: the pearl, the staff, and a sympathetic mage. He can't just possess Callum and free himself at the start of the season, because—whether that would work or not—he doesn't have the staff. He knows, however, that Viren is going back to Katolis, so he can influence Callum to switch the real and fake pearls. Then, when Viren arrives, the pearl and the staff are lined up... but Viren is no longer sympathetic (and possessing him wouldn't really do any good because like, come on... he's in prison).

The way that the attack on Katolis plays out gives him everything: the pearl and staff are abandoned in the chaos, leaving them free for Claudia. Viren, being dead, is also now unable to influence Claudia directly—not to mention that, despite what he told her in s6e1, he chose to do dark magic again.

There are several reasons that could be behind Phaaravos's smarmy little smirk there—either he's satisfied that the staff is in play and will be easily accessible to Claudia instead of buried under a castle's worth of rubble, or he's satisfied that Viren is going to die and that removes what could actually have been a very serious obstacle to Claudia's persistence, or... he's pleased that Viren has caved and done dark magic again, whether because that's leverage he can use with Claudia, or for a more insidious reason.

We can stop here, because "Aaravos uses Viren's loyalty to his family and Katolis to manipulate him to his death and to set up his daughter for digging herself deeper in aiding his own return" is honestly plenty of payoff as far as Aaravos "using" Viren a final time. BUT just to get a little tinfoil-hat, here:

How exactly are we supposed to understand the pearl got from the subterranean secret dark magic workspace to outside in the ground-level courtyard... except by Aaravos walking the dying Viren down there to bring it back out, then neatly arranging pearl, staff, and Dad's dead body in close proximity for Claudia's homecoming? Which is pretty fucking grim.

As a counterpoint, the one thing this series sometimes plays extremely fast and loose with is the space-time continuum: like, working out travel times? Good fucking luck—it takes exactly as long to get somewhere as the plot demands, regardless of distance, terrain, or mode of transportation. So "how did the pearl get into the courtyard" could just be one of those "how did Soren and Claudia get up the Cursed Caldera without Lujanne knowing"-situations where the answer is "it's fine, don't think about it."

Sure, the staff, pearl, and Viren's body are all suspiciously accessible, but we also don't have screentime for Terry and Claudia to do an extensive search of the rubble overlaid with sad music and intercut with flashbacks. Sometimes shit just has to be convenient so we can move along... but I'll probably still always kind of wonder.

[y-rhywbeth2]

To-do list for the inheritor of the newly re-established office of High Primate of Bhaal of the City of Baldur's gate, circa 1480-something: politics, re-establishing the faith and getting Bhaal more sorely needed worship. And because there's only so much entertainment you can get being a group of twitchy killers living under the sewers.

Negotiate terms with local government for freedom of religion (presumably a private audience with the Grand Dukes, maybe the Parliament of Peers, maybe both, idk) Negotiations will probably begin with a more diplomatic version of: "I apologise on behalf of my Father for that thing where he manifested an avatar and went on a murderous rampage through the streets just over a century after my siblings almost drowned the world - and this city specifically - in blood. But also, considering the power just illustrated I think it's fair to say that it's in the best interests of a quiet life and an easier clean up that you just give us our temple back and let us worship in exchange for assassination and spying work on your behalf." This being the usual arrangement with evil faiths, it is in fact a winning argument. You don't kill anybody who matters (so criminals, travellers nobody knows, the homeless, etc) and honestly nobody will consider it worth the time and resources to stop you anyway. -

Weaken the political hold of enemy faiths Ilmater, Lathander and Helm have an established presence in the city, and the Ilmatari have done well enough since 14th century to upgrade from a shrine to a temple. All three of those faiths are better established, more influential, and will oppose the growth and activity of a Bhaalist presence, for some strange reason, -

Re-establish ties with traditional allied faiths (such as they are) Bhaal's traditional allies were Loviatar, Talona, Bane, Myrkul, Mask and Hoar. While none of these faiths hold the same level of sway in the city their enemies do, they all have at least one shared enemy. -

Eliminate rival/dissenting thieves and assassin guilds and organisations. Maybe establish some. Don't expect to have the thieves guilds at your beck and call (Mask is their patron god, but Bhaal generally worked with him fine - and you'll be fighting the Sharrans for influence too) but do make a space for yourself in there and ensure they understand that patronage and cooperation is mutually beneficial. Assassins? They're Bhaal's and he and his worshippers are going to expect all killers for hire to be paying their dues to the Lord of Murder or expect a "cease and decease" regarding their attempts to profit off of his domain without paying him back. -

Acquire Temple holdings Most of a temple's wealth and influence is going to come from owning land and properties. All members of the clergy of pretty much all faiths are expected to go out and claim some. Unfortunately being out of the picture for a century+ means the temple has lost a lot of its original holdings, so you might need to start working on taking some from the other temples... -

Network, Infiltrate and Recruit Gods always need more worshippers, and that goes double for gods who've been dead for a long time. Serial killers need the law to play nice. It's time to remind the peasantry to pay their "don't murder me taxes" (known as "tithes" for legal purposes) and find the city's more murderous members - even many who'd proudly call themselves upstanding citizens may just desire the execution of certain criminals the law won't touch or can't catch - and seek sympathetic ears amongst the rich and powerful... and remove and replace those who aren't. There are plenty of people like unscrupulous younger children whose ear you might have if only you helped them remove the pesky barriers standing between them and control, known as their relatives. And then you have blackmail! Things like that. Remember to wash the blood off before attending any fancy wine tasting parties in estates and pavilions in the upper city. You want your faithful in the ranks of the city watch and the Fist sooner rather than later. -

Establish presence in the Undercellar As the local criminal underworld hub where the law dare not tread (unless they're off duty and here for some crime themselves) this is where a lot of your "public" work and contracting is going to be. Remember to buy one of the back rooms for the "private shows". -

Consider a Daytime Identity, if you don't already have one An important part of being a typical Bhaalist is maintaining a separate, normal life outside the temple that allows you your own income and solid alibies... or you could just live in your dad's house, cling to your divine status and refuse to do any of that mortal stuff, I guess. -

Start repairs on the Temple It's been a dusty, out of date ruin for 100+ years. Consider the structural damage. Maybe have the butler do a bit of dusting.

[chaifootsteps]

just me or is the whole 'saying this is like fanfic is homophobia' framing kind of frustrating? like just to list out the tropes that have come up so far in HH/HB:

female character is written as an evil shrew who gets in the way of the m/m pairing

relationship that starts with rape/dubcon rewritten into true love (this one is probably more common in bad BL manga but I'm willing to bet there's some overlap)

character is the child of a mob family

portrayals of rape/sexual assault treated as titillating / used for drama

portrayals of domestic violence/abuse used mainly to get viewers to feel sorry for a character instead of making them sympathetic on their own terms

abusers/rapists being all powerful monsters solely to torture the victim as much as possible

characters are either Good or Bad and writing is heavy handed about driving this point home

writers has one character they stan and baby above all others and not only the writing but the world bends around them as they eat up more and more screentime while the actual main characters are shoved to the side

writer has one character they hate and they hate other people liking them so they derail them in the most obvious way possible

writer has one pairing they despise and go out of their way to make them seem familial to shame the fans who ship it

writer has intended pairings in mind but they just kinda happen regardless of how much work has been put in to give them real chemistry

the plotlines jump all over the place with no consideration given to the differing stakes each create or audience fatigue when too much is introduced at once/too many hanging threads are left, similar to what happens in unplanned serialized fiction. consistency and worldbuilding errors abound. conversations/events that seem like they should change the status quo kinda don't but there's so little way to tell which one is which that audiences cannot gauge the stakes and either stop being invested or just take the show as it comes since there's no point anticipating anything being done with a lot of its characters & plot points

too many characters, often some of whom don't serve much purpose but the writer is way too attached to to ever cut out (looking at you, Andrealphus & Vassago)

characters are rewritten on the fly. due to the lack of planning their arcs start and stop or get quietly dropped when the writer tires of them

pervasive attitude of misogyny - female characters are underwritten, bitches, dumb or accessories to the men. The world revolves around the (usually white) m/m pairing/s

the main premise is dropped in favor of shipping drama or character shilling

etc.

There's probably more but those are the big ones - like s1 wasn't perfect but s2 really does feel like it became fanfic of itself. I understand Viv being frustrated if it seems like a broad dismissive brush instead of specific critiques, but there's a couple of problems here:

when people give specific critiques she either misrepresents their points to frame them as bad faith (tacitly encouraging her fans to do the same), complains people keep making the same point or writes defensive threads about how people just don't get it because, for example, the show totally demonstrates Millie has qualities other than Wife and Violent

when people say something 'feels like fanfic' as far as I've seen they aren't immediately using it as shorthand for 'it has LGBT characters'. usually when they expand on their points what they're getting at is a lack of planning and a lack of experience or competency in the writer that gives the whole thing impression of being done by an amateur who's either young or still learning their craft, or both

it's the same lack of experienced hands that resulted in the opening of Hazbin being so amateurish and lacking the sense of having actual episodes until other staff writers were brought in to clean up the mess

like yeah I don't like the implication that 'fanfic=automatically bad' since I've read some good stuff myself and maybe people could be more specific; but usually this critique is coming from people who actually like fanfic, who've read a lot of it and who recognize the tropes from the worst fanfics out there in Viv's work

Viv's little "Um, actually, fanfic is good and queer and so if you use it as an insult towards my shows, you're homophobic" snit is one of the more rancid things she's said. When you lay it all out like this, it really does go to show how her stories embody all the worst, most harmful tropes bad fanfic -- and bad writing in general -- has to offer.

[saminsecret]

How the slashers would react to a male s/o

just a little something to jumpstart this page ❤️

tw for some mentions of homophobia/outdated views

Michael Myers ('78):

He wouldn't care. He's got a lot more on his plate than worrying about whether his partner has a dick or a vagina. The fact that he hasn't killed you yet should be enough for you.

He wouldn't understand your insecurities. Why does it matter so much to you? He thinks you focus on the wrong things, but he won't say that to you. Not because he cares if he hurts your feelings, he just doesn't want to deal with your emotional turmoil at the moment. Although, if someone were to criticize your relationship, he might get irritated enough to kill them. Depends on your reaction and his current mood at the moment. Michael isn't the best at emotional support, sorry.

He'd defend you after a while. Lets not beat around the bush, its the 70s/80s, your gonna experience a lot of homophobia if your openly gay/bi. Michael knows what it's like being tormented by others, he was in a mental institution his entire life. If you end up getting discriminated against, verbally or physically, he'd kill the bully, plain and simple. He doesn't see this as an act of affection though; just something he needed to do. Still, your heart swoons a bit when he protects you. Enjoy it Y/N!

Daniel Robitaille

He'd be...confused. Daniel grew up in the late 1800s, and while being gay wasn't unheard of, it was definitely seen as a sin. He never thought he himself could ever be in love with another man.

He'd need time. He wouldn't know what to do with himself as this was entirely new territory for him. Homophobia was most definitely a value he grew up around, although he himself might not be homophobic. He was the son of a slave, a black man in the 1800s, an artist only loved for what he could make. He understands discrimination more than anyone else, so he defiantly wouldn't use your identity against you. Still, its a change so he'd be cautious to start anything with you.

He loves you no matter what. Ultimately, it only takes him a little while to come to terms with the fact that he doesn't care what you are, he loves you all the same. "We are one of the same, Y/N. Without you, I am nothing. Our pain will be told for generations. Be my victim, Y/N."

Jason Vorhees

Is this okay, mother? Pamela was a christian woman, so its pretty likely she had some outdated views on gay people. Not necessarily homophobic in nature, but she said some questionable things out of ignorance. Jason was raised with her values, so he'd have the same outdated views. He'd have to unlearn a few things for this relationship to really work. That being said...

Jason understands you. This is what really brings you two into an eventual relationship. He was born disfigured, and the world never let him forget it. And you? Well, it was the 80s, so... both of you were treated harshly for things you have no control over. Pamela would be more sympathetic towards you as well, and would eventually approve of this relationship, as you've proven you can give Jason everything he deserves. "Oh Jason, I knew Y/N was a good boy, just like you!'

He'd adore you all the same. Oh, to have someone (other than Pamela) who loves him! He would ultimately not care about your gender, and would make sure to let you know it. He loves you Y/N, don't ever doubt it!

Brahms Heelshire

Realistically... You wouldn't have been considered for the babysitting job as Brahm's parents probably only considered female candidates. That being said, you'd be hired after a slew of failed female nannies; Brahms wanted to try something new!

He'd love watching you. Oh Y/N, you may be a boy, but you're the prettiest boy he's ever seen! Seriously though, he loves to watch you taking care of doll, cooking food, moving around the estate, existing...you're just so different, Y/N! And he'd feel more connected to you because you understand certain problems...especially morning problems if you catch my drift.

He'd fall into stereotypes. Listen listen, Brahms was raised with old values, like 18th century old values, so even though you're both guys, he still expects you to fall into the "woman" role (cooking, cleaning, taking care of him, ect..). Brahms is a man, Y/N! Treat him like a king! Wait, what do you mean you're a man too? I-Its different, okay?! (You're gonna have to sit him down and talk out all those old value views if you want to be able to tolerate him).

[headspace-hotel]

I think a critical flaw in the vegan’s user’s argument was that they clearly buckled down on how capitalist exploitation and overproduction factors into milk and meat markets… and then seemed to assume that vegan diets avoid capitalist pitfalls completely.

But you’ve already posted on your blog before about how crop production under capitalism has created huge environmental issues in terms of biodiversity, depletion of topsoil, and sustainability. Meaning even a non-animal diet can (especially on the scale necessary for every human being currently in existence) still create large-scale issues if that diet demands having specific foods in abundance to avoid eating meat.

Like, I’m sympathetic to what vegans want to do, it just feels like they’re ignoring a MASSIVE number of pressing logistical and environmental issues to push that agenda. There’s several intersecting problems here, and claiming humanity as a whole is poised to chuck eating animals completely seems to be jumping the gun.

This is basically exactly what I hope to convey to people. I feel like extremely pressing issues such as topsoil loss, pesticide and herbicide use, and pollution caused by nitrogen fertilizers, not to mention the severe biodiversity impacts of monoculture, are being disregarded in favor of a very simplistic "Meat is killing the Earth" argument.

And I think the "veganism to save the earth" idea is just...distracting, as a movement. I'm glad people are motivated to do it. I don't think it's bad. But we need people to take action beyond just Buy Product. Anyone telling you that the most important action you can take is Buy Different Product does not have your best interest, or the planet's best interest, in mind.

If you're eating a plant based diet, but your only relationship with your food is Buy Product, you are still alienated from the source of your food. You still don't know, and can't respect or care for, the ecosystem or the labor that gives it to you.

My agenda is far more along the lines of "society needs to be organized so more people are directly involved in growing food that feeds their community" than anything to do with animals, but it's clear to everyone who has studied it for 2 seconds that farming needs to change hugely and it's so, so much more complicated than "farming animals is bad, farming plants is good."

Also the fact is that veganism cuts you off from sources of nutrients that have been part of virtually every human society ever, a LOT of people have disabilities, allergies or nutrient absorption issues that mean going vegan isn't possible for them, and people who try to argue with me about this simply Stop knowing how to read when this is brought up. "Some people need animal protein to live" is a reality of the world but people who don't like this straight up refuse to consider it.

I have no food allergies or sensitivities, and I still struggle to eat enough food to live. I lost thirty fucking pounds in college because of stress, the dining hall being shit, and my roommate trying to control my eating habits (long story). Thats like...well over 1/5 of my body weight. Sometimes people Cannot restrict their diet safely.

Like, sure, I 85% agree with the vegans who like to comment on my posts, but the remaining 15% of things they say is completely insane.

And some of them are so out of touch with reality that they will swear up and down that it's impossible for humans to drink milk without someone having to murder a baby animal. They seem to think farming is exclusively some kind of horror show that happens in a warehouse somewhere, and don't understand the concept that "some people live in rural areas" or "it's not uncommon in some places to just keep a few dairy goats that provide milk for your family."

And if they admit this exists, it's like "well, that's not where your dairy comes from, because the INDUSTRY—" thats. that's my point, you can get milk from a farmer who keeps a small herd that is well treated, we should start doing this actually, you can even keep your OWN goat

my ideal world involves "backyard chickens and goats are legal in suburban areas where there's space" because there's literally nothing innately unethical about keeping a couple dairy goats or healthy heritage breed chickens and you can quote me on that and you can even fight me.

That one person (the one who kept bringing up eating poop) (Lord what a sentence to have to write) eventually turned to "Well those sources are wrong because governmental organizations want you to keep eating animal products" which is already well into "conspiracy theory" territory. No thanks.

[lambtotheslaughterr]

I Burn : Part Four

A Rafe Cameron Mini Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 4.4k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

PART THREE | MASTERLIST | PART FIVE

            Today was the day. Your parents would be visiting. They’d be expecting to see some progress, you’d be expecting some love & affection. You had a feeling everyone would end up being disappointed. To start, you dressed in an outfit you knew they would approve of; even went as far as to include a cross necklace that would surely make your mother happy. You cringed internally as you clipped the necklace behind your neck. You looked yourself in the mirror, running your hands along the skirt of your dress. You looked like the perfect daughter.

            Leaving your room, you avoided the eyes of your fellow patients, Renee’s smirk in particular. Albert smiled at you & you mustered one in return. Fortunately, there was no sign of Rafe as you made your way to Dr. Mooney’s office. This morning’s session would be a simple check-in. Then parents would begin arriving around 11 & there would be lunch. Afterwards, families could either explore the grounds or visit together in common areas. You weren’t sure if your parents would stay past lunch. You hoped they wouldn’t.

            You knocked on Dr. Mooney’s door & he hollered for you to come in. As you did, you closed the door gently behind you. He grinned at you from beneath his glasses, “_____, you look beautiful.”

            Oh boy. You felt your pits begin to sweat at the compliment.

            “Thank you.” You replied, moving towards the couch.

            Dr. Mooney was dressed casually today in a pair of jeans that were hugging him in all the right places, a navy blue pressed T, & a white blazer. He looked to be the most perfect gentleman. You ignored the glint of shine from the ring on his finger.

            “How are you feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat across from you. No notepad.

            You crossed your legs at the ankle, your hands in your lap.

            “Okay, I guess.”

            “Mhmm.” He removed his glasses, holding them in his hand, “You sound wary. Is it safe to presume it’s because it is parents day?”

            “Very safe.” You chuckled lightly, but you felt awkward, uncomfortable.

            “You know they only want what is best for you.”

            “Mm.” You lowered your head, “So I’ve been told.”

            “What’s going on, _____?” Dr. Mooney leaned forward in his seat to try & catch your eyes, “I know the recovery process can have it’s ups & downs, but you were in higher spirits last week.”

            “Just a lot on my mind. People in my ear.” You replied without thought. You sighed internally, knowing he would want to dive into that.

            Before he could ask, you answered, “I guess I am beginning to question if I really do have a problem, ya know, with…sex.”

            Dr. Mooney frowned but nodded, gesturing for you to continue.

            “I don’t know. Someone pointed out to me that the only reason I’m in here is because I’m a girl. No one really bats an eye at a guy who likes to have sex. It’s normal for our age.” As you spoke, you felt your voice growing smaller & smaller. The shame was returning twice fold.

            “I see.” Dr. Mooney started, “Do you mind if we back track to our earlier sessions together?”

            You shrugged.

            “How old were you the first time you had sex, _____?”

            Oh, that early. You loathed where this check-in was going. But you answered, nonetheless.

            “Fifteen.”

            “Yes. And you’re nineteen now. How many sexual partners have you had in the last four years?”

            Your heart palpitated, heat bloomed along your skin.

            “At least ten.”

            “Now,” Dr. Mooney offered you a sympathetic smile, “you know I don’t like to use the term ‘normal’. Circumstances simply vary. In your case, your sexual exploration began at a younger age than average & in turn, the number of sexual partners you’ve had greatly exceed the average for your age. Correct?”

            Your fingers tangled together, straining the bones. You blinked away tears, nodding.

            “I don’t want you to feel shameful, _____. That is not my intent. We’re just stating facts right now, okay?”

            “’kay.”

            “More so, your sexual trysts have caused quite some trouble in your life. Especially of late, wouldn’t you say?”

            “…yeah.” Your voice shook.

            “Now, you have made remarkable progress, & your parents will know as such. But I really implore you to not view your stay here as a punishment, let alone for being a young woman. You would like to have a healthy relationship with sex, yes?”

            “Of course.” You weren’t sure though. Now you were more confused than ever. Was Rafe right? Was Dr. Mooney?

            “Then I ask you to believe in me, in the treatment program, in our staff here. You’re in good hands, _____.”

            Finally, you raised your eyes to meet his. Tears slipped away as you did. Dr. Mooney reached for a box of tissues before standing to cross over to you. He sat beside you, at a respectable distance, handing you a tissue, “Look at it this way, you are young. You are at an age where recovery has a high chance of succeeding. All you need is to believe in yourself, to trust yourself. Before you know it, you’ll be back to your life outside of here with a healthy relationship to sex, with your parents, & the tools & resources to keep the treatment working.”

            You sniffled, unable to find the words, but nodded. You wiped at your eyes with the tissue.

            “I’m proud of you, _____.”

            You stared at him. No one had ever said that to you. Without thought, you threw your arms around him, hugging him.

            “Oh.” He replied surprisingly. He returned the hug for a brief moment before standing up, forcing your arms to drop into your lap.

            “I’m sorry.” You apologized, remembering the ‘no contact’ rule.

            “It’s okay.” Dr. Mooney began walking towards the door & opened it. “Now, take it easy on yourself. And don’t let others get in your ear, alright?”

            You followed behind him, “Thank you, Dr. Mooney.”

            The room where group session typically took place had been transformed to a dining hall for the visiting family members. There were a ton of tables, & a row of tables alongside the windowed wall that overlook the lawn where the spread of food would be laid out. A majority of patients were already there when you walked in. Albert & Siena were helping staff bring out dishes, Renee was sitting by herself in the corner, arms crossed, walls up. You were thinking of joining Albert & Siena when a shadow appeared on your left.

            “Going to church?”

            You rolled your eyes, pointedly ignoring Rafe as he immediately tried to get under your skin.

            Leaving him in the doorway, you crossed the room to find a table unoccupied. Unfortunately, Rafe followed.

            “Rafe.” You glared, “Can you leave me alone?”

            “Where’s the fun in that?”

            He looked regrettably hot as fuck. He wore a light blue polo that made his eyes pop against his tanned skin, & a pair of khaki colored shorts. The dimple on his cheek appeared as he smiled at you, clearly enjoying your perusal. You shook your head, forcing yourself to look away.

            “What do you want?” You kept your voice low, as calm sounding as possible.

            Rafe snorted at that, “You.”

            Your eyes flashed to his, “I am not your fucking toy. Can’t you find someone else to pick on?”

            “Is that what you think I’m doing?” He narrowed his eyes playfully.

            You hated how attracted you were to him. That if it weren’t for being trapped in this facility, you would have without a doubt slept with him, & now you couldn’t. He was the ultimate temptation. And he knew it.

            “I don’t know what you’re doing!” You admitted, trying to keep your voice down. After your morning session with Dr. Mooney, you were much too sensitive to face him. “But you’re…distracting me.”

            Rafe’s eyes glowed mischievously at that.

            Growing frustrated & overheated, you were about to stand up & stomp away, but Rafe was quick to place a hand on your thigh through your dress. You froze.

            He only leaned slightly forward, but you felt his body heat, smelled his cologne, & it made your thighs shake.

            “You distract me, too.”

            You felt dizzy.

            “Everyone!” A cheerful voice sounded near the doors of the room. Both you & Rafe looked up. Nurse Carney was dressed in a pair of loose-fitting slacks & a tank top with a thin cardigan. “Lunch is served!”

            With that, she moved out of the way & a handful of strangers walked through the doors. Rafe’s hand slipped off your thigh as you stood up, fixing your dress. Before your parents could spot you, you hastily moved to another table, not wanting them to see you sitting with Rafe.

            Just as you sat down at the next table, you spotted your mother making her way towards you. She grinned but showed no teeth. She didn’t want to be here either. Your father was just behind her & he didn’t even bother faking a smile.

            “Mom, Dad.” You smiled, keeping your hands clasped together in front of you.

            “Oh, honey.” Your mother embraced you, before holding you at arms-length to look you over, “You look darling. Doesn’t she, Harry?”

            Your father gave you a nod, “Always, Alice.”

            “Dad.” You felt your heart break just a little at his lack of affection. But you needed to think positive, otherwise you’d crumble right before them.

            The three of you sat, your mother on your left & your father on the other side of her. At your table, you were joined by another family, though you didn’t know the name of the patient they were visiting. Fortunately, the tables were big enough that private enough conversations could be had.

            Talk with your parents had started out small as the three of you ate. Lunch was banana bread, broccoli, a garden salad, & gazpacho. Your parents seemed pleased enough with the layout, but you could barely taste the food. Your anxiety was overwhelming you.

            Your parents spoke to one another, & you took the opportunity to glance over your shoulder at the table behind you where Rafe sat. On either side of him were his parents you guessed, though the woman looked much to young to be his mother. His father on the other hand, you saw where Rafe got his devilish good looks from. However, you didn’t miss how Rafe’s eyes were already on you. You spun back around, feeling a hole being burned at the center of your back. Damn him.

            Once lunch was finished, you offered to show your parents the surrounding grounds.

            “It’s much too hot for a walk in the woods.” Your father said at your suggestion, “But you two go on. I want to speak with your doctor.”

            You frowned at that. Dr. Mooney would be speaking to all parents or visiting family members at the end of the visit. Why was your father insisting on seeking him out? Or perhaps he just couldn’t stand to be near you.

            “Harry.” Your mother reprimanded but your father dismissed her.

            “Go on, Alice. Spend time with your daughter.”

            An inaudible gasp parted your lips. Your daughter. Was he that angry with you?

            Your mother sighed, shaking her head, but turned to you nonetheless with a forced smile on her face, “Well, lead the way, darling.”

            Swallowing your shame, you nodded. As you passed by your father, you were sure to keep your distance. He didn’t want to be here. And he didn’t want you as his daughter.

            You led your mother out the rear entrance of the building. There were other families out there, either sitting on benches on the lawn or taking strolls among the trees. All of the patients that you could see had both parents with them. You only had half.

            “I’m sorry about your father, _____.” Your mother began as you followed along the trail.

            “Don’t, Mom.” You shrugged, “He’s angry with me.”

            “Yes, but still.” She sighed, “You’re our daughter.”

            You were relieved that she noted his petty comment as well. Though your mom agreed with your dad to put you in the treatment center, she still at least treated you like a human being.

            “I’m sorry.” You surprised yourself by saying, “I’m sorry I did what I did.”

            “I know, baby.” She circled her arm with yours, “So, how are you liking it here?”

            Licking your lips, you thought about it for a moment before mustering a smile, “Could be worse.”

            She laughed lightly at that, “It certainly could be. Not a lot of good options out there, & I wanted you to get the best treatment.”

            “You made the right decision.” You commented flatly.

            It was quiet for some time after that. You led her to the creek you liked to visit. There was a nearby gazebo & you two sat at a table up there, enjoying the fresh air.

            “Honey?” You glanced at your mother. She looked despondent.

            “Mom?”

            “I want you to know that I forgive you.” She reached across to hold your hand. She rubbed her thumb along your knuckles, “You’re young, you’re beautiful. We’re just worried about you.”

            “I know that.” You replied, your voice soft, “I just don’t want you guys to hate me.”

            “Oh!” She gripped your hand, “We could never hate you. We’re scared for you.”

            “But why?” You felt the tears from earlier threatening to return, “I mean, I know what I did was wrong but… sometimes I feel like you guys are just trying to get rid of me,”

            Your mother nodded at that. She let go of your hand to reach into her purse, pulling out a tissue to dab at her own eyes.

            “Not at all, darling.”

            “But Dad…”

            “Your father is under a lot of pressure at work after what happened. I won’t lie, he is still angry at the situation.”

            “You mean me.” You added.

            “Honey. Your father, he’s… traditional. As am I. But what happened involved his career. I know you didn’t intend to get caught, for lack of a better word, but you did. And your father is taking the brunt of the consequences.”

            “How can you say that?” You narrowed your eyes at her, “I’m in rehab in the middle of Virginia!”

            “_____.” Your mother hardened her voice. You quieted immediately.

            “Do you remember Grayson?” You pressed your lips together at the name. Grayson had been a foreign exchange student from England who your parents hosted when you were sixteen & he was eighteen. You two had slept together regularly when he lived under your roof. It was your housemaid who caught you two. The next day he was sent back to England.

            “And what about Jamal?” He was your mother’s god son. You were both seventeen. He came from a religiously uptight family. You two drank together one night which led to a sloppy minute of sex. If you could call it that. What you didn’t know was that he was a virgin & was saving himself for his girlfriend after they got married. He never told you any of that. You had never asked. Then he told his parents you seduced him & it was the devil who tempted him. His parents banned him from ever visiting again. Your mother hadn’t spoken to them since.

            “Then there was Andrew.” Andrew had been your only boyfriend. It was last year. Andrew had been a regular coke user, & on prom night you two had had sex (something you two did regularly) but that night he had OD’d on coke. He survived but his parents pointed their finger at you, calling you a harlot & a bad influence.

            “Now, John.” Your father’s TA. John was staying with your family to help your dad grade papers from finals. He was enticing to you. And it was no secret that he thought the same of you. So it was no surprise that one night, in the middle of the night, you approached him in you father’s office. John insisted on your dad going to bed & he would keep working on the papers. John took you on the desk. It was how your dad found you two. John was fired on the spot. And the next day you found yourself where you currently were.

            “You have a problematic history with sex. But this time your father’s work was involved.”

            You kept your eyes low.

            “You have to admit at least that, honey.”

            “Yeah.” You replied noncommittedly. “I guess.”

            Your mother reached across the table once more, grabbing your hand, “As long as you recover, you can come home. Okay?”

            But you had a feeling your father would keep you here for as long as he could.

            “Okay, Mom.”

            You were sitting on a chair outside Dr. Mooney’s office. Your parents were inside, speaking with him. You hoped that Dr. Mooney was singing your praises to them like he said he would. Perhaps then your father would hug you before he left.

            As you were sitting there, trying to calm your fast beating heart, you heard a clamber of footfalls from down the hallway. You looked up & spotted Rafe with his parents. As they walked by, Rafe winked at you. You returned it with a sneer.

            The door to your right opened up & Dr. Mooney stuck his head out, “_____, you can come inside now.”

            Exhaling a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, you stepped into the room. Your mother was on the couch, your father standing just beside it. Dr. Mooney gestured for you to take a seat on the couch beside your mother.

            “So, now that we’re all here.” He began as he sat down himself in his chair, “_____, your parents & I agree that your progress is moving along perfectly.”

            He then looked to your parents, “As I mentioned, we’ve had no issues with her treatment. She’s been great, & sets an excellent example to other patients here.” He then looked at you & smiled. You felt your heart flutter.

            “That’s great to hear, doctor.” Your mom beamed.

            But your father did quite the opposite.

            “Forgive me for being frank, doctor. But you are aware of why my daughter is here.”

            Dr. Mooney adjusted in his seat, staring at your father straight on, “I am, yes.”

            “How do I know you’re not sleeping together?”

            “Harry!” “Dad!” Your mother & you gasped in unison.

            “I can’t believe you!” You stood up, glaring heatedly at him, “I’m not a fucking slut!”

            Your father narrowed his eyes at you, about to open his mouth but Dr. Mooney interjected before he could.

            “Mr. _____, I don’t need to tell you how inappropriate the question is. Let alone about how you have the audacity to ask it in front of your daughter.”

            “Like I said, Dr. Mooney.” You began, glaring at your dad through blurred vision before you faced your doctor, “This isn’t to help me. It’s to punish & humiliate me.”

            With that you turned your back on your parents & stormed out of the office. You didn’t care to say good-bye or to get your hug. Your father had made it quite clear that you were not his daughter. You were his mistake.

            It was late, almost 10. Lights out would happen any minute, but you didn’t care. You didn’t want to be around anybody, let alone hear anybody. So, you snuck out of the common area to the quiet room off the larger room where you had sat & eaten with your parents earlier. The room was dark, & you didn’t want to risk bringing attention to yourself by turning on any lights. So, you sat on the floor by the window, staring out at the trees which were lit by the trail lights.

            You hoped you could stay there the whole night. And if anyone were to find you, you hoped it would be Nurse Carney. She would be understanding, at least.

            All the tears in your body had depleted. You had spent them all in your bedroom after your father’s humiliating remark in Dr. Mooney’s office. He hated you. Hated you. It didn’t matter what your mom or Dr. Mooney said. Your dad put you in here to get rid of you. Simple as that.

            You were resting your head on your knees, your bare feet growing cold from exposure, but you didn’t care. You hadn’t even bothered changing out of your dress into warmer clothes. The cold kept you awake. It’s what you wanted.

            The sound of the door to the room opening made you spin around though. You were expecting to see Nurse Carney, but it was Rafe who slipped into the room.

            “Ugh, great.” You said to yourself & turned away.

            “Shitty parents day?”

            “Sure.” You didn’t have the energy to go head-to-head with him. If he wanted to bother you, he’d have to knock your dad out of the park to do so.

            Rafe walked over to you. He had changed into a thin white T & a pair of black sweats. He sat down before you, mirroring your body placement as he brought his own knees to his chest to rest his arms over them. You continued staring out the window, ignoring him. But he always seemed to have a way to get you to notice him. You blamed it on his unwavering stare.

            “What’s got you acting all emo in here?”

            Shaking your head, you looked at him, “My dad hates me.”

            Rafe chuckled lightly at that, “Is that so bad?”

            “It’s not great, Rafe. Jesus.”

            “What?” He continued to smirk knowingly. But when you didn’t smile or chuckle with him, his own smirk softened, “Hey, my dad hates me, too.”

            “Good for you.” You replied.

            “It’s not the end of the world, dude. Dads are assholes.”

            “You don’t get it.”

            “Oh, I don’t?” Rafe bit his lip, raising his brows, “My dad would love nothing more than to keep me locked in here forever.”

            Maybe he did get it…

            “And you’re okay with that?” You pushed.

            Rafe shrugged, “I wouldn’t care to see him either, but no. I would prefer not being here. The least he could do is send me abroad, somewhere tropical. What I’d really want is my own boat, never touch land again.”

            “Mm.” You stared at the ground.

            “What about you?”

            You raised your head, staring at him with a frown, “What about me what?”

            “Where would you rather be for the rest of your life?”

            You sighed, thinking about it. A small smile began tugging on your lips at something Grayson had told you about.

            “There’s this park in London called Holland Park. A friend told me it’s this massive park filled with gardens, fountains, ponds, & it’s surrounded by all these huge historical buildings. I looked it up once & it’s crazy pretty. And I’ve also never been to London, so I think that’d be cool.”

            “Blech.” Rafe teased, “England? Too gray.”

            “Whatever.” You laughed lightly, “To each their own.”

            Rafe smiled then he gently nudged your foot with his own, “I tell you what. When we get outta here. I’ll take you myself.”

            You narrowed your eyes at him, “Bullshit.”

            “Shit.” He grinned, “I’ll take you to Holland Park, & then you’ll come with me onto my boat & we’ll stay on the water. Go wherever we want.”

            The thought wasn’t terrible. A nice fantasy. But that’s all it was. A fantasy.

            “Yeah, right.”

            The two of you shared a smile before you shook your head, “Why do you like me so much?”

            Rafe wriggled his nose, “I don’t like you. I don’t like anyone. But I want you. That’s something, I guess.”

            “Okay then.” You huffed out a breath, “Why do you want me?”

            “I already told you.”

            You recalled the day of community service, “Yeah, yeah.”

            “I want to kiss you.”

            The words took your breath away. You froze under his gaze. But he smiled mischievously. The spell broke.

            “You’re just fucking with me again.”

            “I am, yeah.” Rafe grinned proudly, “Because I’m not the romantic prince type.”

            “No? What type are you?”

            “The take what I want type.”

            And before you could respond, Rafe closed the distance & brought his mouth to yours.

            You gasped into the kiss, one of your hands immediately finding the back of his neck to deepen it. Rafe bit your lip, forcing you to part your lips just enough for him to slip his tongue into your mouth. You groaned as he massaged your tongue with his own. Rafe grinned into the kiss.

            He then used his body to push you gently backwards. The floor was cold against your back. You arched into him. One of his hands slipped to the hem of your dress, his fingers grazing the skin on your inner thigh. You whined, pushing him back slightly.

            “What are you doing?” You asked breathlessly.

            “After today,” he kissed the spot under your ear, “I think we both deserve a reward.”

            All of your progress went out of the window with that statement. Rafe was right. You had earned this, to feel good, to indulge in your favorite activity. Rafe latched his mouth onto your neck & you reached for the bottom of shirt. Rafe leaned back enough to tug the fabric off before he reached behind you to begin unzipping your dress.

            As the two of you undressed each other, you were down to only your bra & underwear & Rafe in his boxer briefs. He was nestled between your legs, his obvious arousal pressing against the hot pulsing heat of your center.

            “God, you’re fucking sexy.”

            You felt your head hang back, “Fuck me.”

            Rafe slipped one of your bra straps down your arm, licking & sucking a sweet spot along your collarbone.

            “Want me to fuck you like the good girl you are?”

            “Yes, please, Rafe.” You begged.

            He wasted no time in reaching for your underwear. He had just hooked his fingers around the seams, preparing to slip them down your legs when suddenly the room was flooded with light. You both groaned irritably before realizing what was happening.

            Angling your head, you felt shame flood your body as Dr. Mooney stood in the doorway.

            Fuck.

teehee. part four my loves.

as always, please share your thoughts/feelings with me via comments, reblogging w reviews, or dropping an ask. i need them for sustenance.

thank you for reading!

beau<3

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[nevaroonie]

Shaw Pack Flowers

flowers I'd give to each member of the Shaw pack and why

David - Red Hydrangea and Black Roses. the color red can mean passion love and anger which Davey has a lot of. but Davey has a lot of passion for the people he cares about especially his pack and his annoying adorable mate. While black roses mean death, elusiveness, and farewell. david has let the death of his father haunt him. and it shows a lot. while he also hides behind these high walls. He doesn't want to remember the hard stuff. but at the same time, he has to say farewell to all the bad moments to get to the good moments!

Angel - yellow and blue Irises as well as some asters of the same color! In this case, yellow means Spontaneity and hope. while the blue is Calm, trust, and intelligence! Asters mean patience and variety! because let's be real here Angel had to be really patient and calm with Davey because of the walls he built around himself. Variety part comes from whatever comes out of their mouth when their alone with David. Irises mean Eloquence and wisdom. angel can be really persuasive with their words as well as wise. like telling David to use more words instead of being quiet. they encourage David to and inspire David to be better.

Asher - Green Pansys with a mix of orange roses! in this case, The color green means Growth and harmony. because Asher had to take the mantle that David lacked. they both had to grow up earlier than they expected. But Asher has come to terms with this. of course with the help of Baaabe. if that makes sense. Orange roses however mean enthusiasm and passion, his passion to protect and make sure the others around him are okay he's been doing it to David for the longest. so sometimes he forgets to be happy for himself.

Baaabe - I'll narrow it down to 2 roses. because I love them too much- Peach and a deep purple but in the cases of the roses, peach means sincerity, gratitude, and sympathy. they are grateful for the people they have met thanks to Asher. they can be very sympathetic to Asher.. (and a really big shit-talker when they wanna be )they listen to him and comfort him through his imposter syndrome moments. while with the dark colored rose in this case it means admiration. they have grown to admire the things about the new life they've embarked in (as well as the gossip). They've grown to admire themself with Asher's help. after all, he makes it clear they are his muse.. his monarch.. his everything.

Milo - Red Lakesuprs and Purple Carnations- now Milo can be a very prideful man and he has every right. so in his case, Red means Passion love, and anger. because he can be a very passionate man.. wether it's about his height or his body. he's gonna tell you about it. ( he's also gonna brag about his mate. he's also gonna yell at you if you insult his wolf form-) And Lasksuprs mean almost exactly that. Levity and haughtiness. (I still love you though) While purple Carnations...the color purple can mean Luxury in this case. why? this man has dress socks. he only wants and likes the best. and he's not going to deprive himself of that. after all, beauty likes beauty. and surprise surprise Carnations mean pride and beauty

Sweetheart - Pink Black-eyed-susans! sweetheart is an overworking person with the best intentions (even if it means scaring the shit out of your mate or even breaking into their home! ) but none the less The color pink can Mean Playfulness, fun, and youthful but in this case, were only gonna go for playfulness and fun. because when they're not scaring their mate. they can be a joyful person to be around. though they can be hesitant to reach out for help. while the flower itself means Justice and Encouragement. they have a strong sense of justice and will keep it that way. if 2 wrongs don't make a right. they find a way. and they encourage the people they care about to speak up for themselves. like they've started to do.

Samuel - Black roses with a mix of blue asters much like David sam has been surrounded by death ( he literally died ). but also rebirth and sprinkle a little bit of courage. Sam has been through a lot. and he knows it. And tries to move one for it. he's not as clean as the standard he can hold others too. and he knows that. he tries to work on that. now for the blue asters part- the color blue in this case is going to mean calm and intelligence. after all, when taking care of someone who lacks/ doesn't care to take care of themselves take calamity and patience ( throw in some southern love too ). and asters mean patience and variety.. remember what I said about that calamity part? yeah patience is important here too.

Darlin - Red Snapdragons with matching red Alstoemrias.. in this case, red means passion, love, and anger. with Darlin has a lot of. they have a passion. hell, they chased their ex for almost 2 years after they had to let go of a friend. they love everyone but themselves at times. a lack of self-preservation will do that to you. and snapdragons in this case mean strength and resilience. you can take a look at them and tell they've been through shit. but they keep going. it takes strength and a passion to. ( and a cowboy who will scold you for not taking good care of yourself if you don't ) and the Alstoemrias means friendship in this case. darlin cares and takes friendship very seriously. ( they were willing to kill a vamp turned by old blood. they care a lot ).

and now the other things everyone gets In their bouquets! green gladiolus, basil, and white birds of paradise. in the case of the green gladiolus the color green means growth. they've all grown in one way or another. basil because they all deserve some love and good wishes! and white birds of paradise. the color white can mean purity most of the time when you talk about it..but right now it means simplicity. because of the simple life they want to live. with the joyfulness their mates give them.

@dawnofiight here you go (this took longer then it felt-)

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

flame-bright | part 1

The second installment of the HHU Universe has been completed!

F2L, slow-burn, reader is in major denial and also goofy af, sports statistician!seungcheol x fem!fashion designer!reader, reader is described as wearing heels/dresses often, lowkey implied that cheol is somewhat bigger than reader, I think gendered terms may be used??? Idk this is barely proofread, mentions of toxic relationships/habits that make reader’s life more difficult, mentions of cheating, eventual smut (18+ only, underage readers will be systematically hunted down and whooped), lots of mutual pining, probably some drinking, bad decisions are made generally throughout, Mingyu and Wonwoo and Vernon will make cameos (references to the Hope in the Fault Lines couple), and there will be a hefty amount of painful against in the next two parts. Lmk if I missed anything!

If there was one word you’d use to describe Seungcheol, it would’ve been passionate. 

At least, while you were being kind. As it is, you’re using a litany of far less flattering descriptors while you wait for him to pick up his phone, your breath curling into soft gray tendrils in the chilly night air. You watch the clouds moving slowly, backlit by an occasionally-visible yellowish-orange moon, and curse as you get Cheol’s voicemail message in your ear. 

From the minute you’d met Choi Seungcheol, your life had been struck with misfortune. It wasn’t his fault -- not at all, in fact. Most of the time it was yours. Or maybe Seungcheol was just one of those people who made you realize your own buffoonery. Whatever the reasons, it seemed like you’d been down on your luck ever since you met him, and you were starting to wonder if he was some kind of bad omen for you. 

Your first conversation had happened because you were trapped in an elevator with him when it broke down on you. You had been trying to visit your boyfriend, at the time, who had been “sick” -- which apparently was code for “sleeping with someone else.” You had found out because Seungcheol was his next door neighbor, and he didn’t waste time telling you about the girl he’d been bringing over that wasn’t you. A short conversation on the phone with the boyfriend was enough to confirm the story. 

You’d broken up with him instantly, right there in that stupid broken-down elevator. Cheating was a dealbreaker for you, which was saying something. You knew that you tended to allow all sorts of poor treatment from men that made your friends worry about your love life, which is why you never told them about anything anymore, which is why you started to open up to this handsome stranger in the elevator who was attentive and sympathetic and kind and who you’d probably never see again. You told him almost everything: the long string of first dates that never went anywhere, the flings, and the off-and-on relationships you’d had until you’d met the guy you just dumped. He listened perfectly -- made disgusted noises in all the right places, gasped, said “no he did not” at all the antics that men had put you through -- and when you’d finally left the elevator you’d thanked him for letting you unload. 

He’d smiled then -- his first smile at you. It was probably just how fragile your heart was, but it made you all warm and fuzzy inside to see the way it changed his entire face from intimidating to soft. “No problem,” he said. “Sounds like you needed it.”

“I did,” you moaned. “I really really did. I’m so sorry you had to listen to all that.”

“It really wasn’t bad. I’m glad that I got some entertainment while we were stuck in there,” he said, gesturing at the elevator. “I hope your love life gets better.”

You had fully intended to leave the apartment building and never see him again. But you had -- he’d been exiting the elevator when you’d come to pick up the odds and ends you’d left at your now-ex-boyfriend’s apartment. The way his eyes lit up when he saw you, the way he crowed, “hey, elevator girl!”, it had all made you laugh. 

“Elevator boy!” you’d replied. “How nice to see you.”

“My name’s Choi Seungcheol,” he told you. “And the pleasure is all mine. Please tell me you didn’t get back with my neighbor.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Absolutely not. I came back to fight his new girlfriend for my blow dryer.”

“Do you need help?” he asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

“Are you offering to fight in my place?” 

That had made him laugh. “No, I don’t fight women. What if we tag-teamed? I’ll fight him and you fight her.” He pretended to size you up. “I can definitely take him, and I gotta say I’d put my money on you beating her.”

“Well,” you’d said, pretending to consider it. “I hope it won’t come to that, but if you wanted to be moral support, I would promise to never ever tell you my entire disappointing dating history ever again.”

“I really didn’t mind that,” he said in protest. “Maybe we should take the stairs this time, though. If we get stuck in there again I might have to tell you something this time.”

“I’d probably feel less guilty if you did,” you’d told him. “But sure. I don’t have the time to get stuck in an elevator today.”

You’d followed him to the stairwell, jogging behind him up the stairs. You’d arrived at the doorstep a little out-of-breath and even more unprepared to come face-to-face with your ex and his new girlfriend. 

It became clear within the first few minutes that there was no way she was giving you back your very nice, very expensive hair-dryer. She claimed, in fact, that it was hers. (Never mind that there was a piece of duct tape with your name on it stuck to the cord.)

Thus had begun the plans for the Great Hair Dryer Heist of 2018. Seungcheol had invited you across the hall to his apartment, where the two of you had brainstormed ways to get the hair dryer back. He vetoed your first idea (murder), and you vetoed his (military intelligence-level blackmail). Back and forth you went until you had come up with the only feasible, if illegal, plan.

To break in.

It amused you how seriously Seungcheol took the assignment to canvas the ex’s apartment. He had discreetly attached an audio recording device to his door and hid it with a welcome mat, so that he would know the couple’s routine. He wrote down the timeframes of their comings and goings. He even tracked patterns -- “if they come in later than 10:30 PM, they won’t leave the house again until after 10 AM,” he’d told you as you joined him for what had become weekly intel meetings. “Does your ex even work? How can he afford to leave his house so late?”

“He’s a nepo baby,” you’d told him. “His daddy’s his boss.”

Seungcheol scoffed. “You sure can pick ‘em, sweetheart.”

“You have no idea,” you mumbled.

Finally the big day came. Seungcheol had planned it down to the last second. He’d practiced picking his own lock while he knew the neighbors were out. He’d told other people on the floor what was going down so they wouldn’t be suspicious. He’d even bought a pair of leather gloves for both of you to avoid leaving fingerprints. It was, as he said himself, “go time.”

The breaking in part had gone pretty well, but then, just as you were approaching the door of their apartment with the hair dryer in hand, you’d heard the clattering of keys outside. You froze, but Seungcheol acted fast, pulling you into a closet and gesturing for silence. 

Which was also going well, until your phone had gone off, blasting “Toxic” by Brittni Spears. You hurried to shut it off, but you heard the person outside pause, as though listening. When they came in, they said, “hello?”

The girlfriend was home.

As she passed the closet and went into the bathroom, Seungcheol whispered, “leave with the hair-dryer. I’ll be there soon.”

You slipped quietly from the closet and dashed out of the apartment, diving into Seungcheol’s apartment before the other apartment door had even closed. The problem was, the sound of the door shutting meant that Seungcheol was compromised. You could hear the new girlfriend screaming at him. Fighting a laugh, you went across the hall and knocked at the door, brandishing the hair dryer. 

“Hi,” you said when she opened the door, red-faced, a shell-shocked looking Seungcheol behind her. And you held up the hair dryer.

She had been so shocked that all she could do was splutter. “I’m here for him,” you said, reaching around her and grabbing Seungcheol by the front of his jacket.

Impulsively she grabbed his arm, but he ripped it from her grasp. “Unhand me,” he said coldly. “And you’d better hope there’s nothing else of hers here.”

And with that, the two of you had left, triumphant.

This is how your friendship had started -- and the mishaps with dating continued, almost comically accelerating the closer you became to him. The problem was, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret your friendship or end it, because you’d gone on to become really good friends with him. Not just “talk occasionally, never meet up unless one of you is going through something, cancel plans with each other” kind of friends, either -- he had become one of your best friends in the world. You saw each other almost every day and had weekly movie nights and lunch dates. Choi Seungcheol, for all his flaws, was the person you knew you could always call, no matter what went wrong.  

So why, when you really needed him, was he not answering?

With a final curse aimed in the general direction of Seungcheol’s apartment building, you begin to walk to the bus station in the dark, your car sitting dead and useless in the empty museum parking lot. You debate whether or not to tell Seungcheol the real reason you called him twelve times when he inevitably calls back in a panic, hoping it’s later when you’re safe at home and not while you’re on the bus. You decide what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him and pull your flimsy jacket closer to you in the chill October air. 

As is your luck, though, Cheol calls when you’re still two stops away from home. You answer him immediately, knowing it’ll be worse if you don’t — the last time this happened he had actually called the police. “Hey!” you say brightly. “What’s up, Seungcheol?”

“What’s wrong?” he asks, a mix of relieved, exasperated, and amused. “You called me twelve times.”

You sigh. “I know. I really wanted to not have to pick up my own dry cleaning,” you lie, using the only feasible excuse you could formulate during the half hour you’d been on the bus.

“At this time of night? So you called me twelve times?” he asks skeptically. “Just do your own laundry and then you won’t have this problem.”

“I don’t have dry cleaning technology, and if you think I’m about to put vintage rockabilly sweaters into a washing machine, then you’re a bigger fool than I thought.”

He sighs. “I can pick it up tomorrow. Was that really all?”

“Of course,” you respond too quickly as the bus makes another stop. “Why didn’t you respond, though?”

Seungcheol hesitates. “I had a date,” he finally answers. 

“Really?” you exclaim, even as your stomach drops. “How was it?”

“It…uh, it went really well. She’s still here,” he replies.

You smack your forehead. “Shit, man. You should’ve said something. I’ll let you get back to it.” And before he can protest, you hang up, your heart beating too fast for someone just sitting on a bus.

He was on a date, you think to yourself, willing yourself to believe it and let it sink in. Of course. Because there was only one thing that Seungcheol would ignore you for, only one thing he’d put ahead of helping his (supposedly platonic) best friend — his love life, which was not nearly as pitiful as yours but which somehow made you feel just as bad about yourself. You cursed yourself for not seeing this coming and for letting yourself feel somehow betrayed by it, because there was nothing between you and never would be.

You fume for the full five more minutes it takes for you to get to your bus stop. You’re furious at yourself for calling him, and furious for interrupting his date, and furious that you’re furious. “You’d better work,” you growl at the elevator as you push the button in the lobby of your apartment complex. To its credit, it does carry you slowly up to your floor, where you are finally able to collapse onto your couch, looking around the small apartment cramped with dress forms and fabric and your industrial sewing machine (all out and in use as you prepared to send samples for a new collection for the brand you worked for to your suppliers). You rub at your eyes, feeling yourself growing more overstimulated by the minute.

And then your phone’s text tone rings through the quiet apartment. You glance down at the name attached to the notification, and your heart drops.  

Jinho: [23:34] “Hey, hope you’re doing well. I’m going to be in town for a couple months preparing for a trade show, and I’d love to meet up if you’ve got time.” 

All thoughts you might have been capable of before this moment evaporate, replaced by a drawn-out scream of horror. Because it’s not like Jinho was the ex from hell — quite the opposite, actually. He was the only ex you had who wasn’t a deadbeat, a cheater, or extremely toxic. Jinho was a regular person with a stable job in art curation, and you had wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. In fact, you privately attributed your string of bad relationships to losing Jinho. Ever since he’d ended things with you, you’d been reeling, almost haphazardly grabbing onto anything that got close enough and seeing if it’d stick.

After staring at this text for what feels like several days straight, you decide you have no business answering it tonight. You are so far behind where you hoped you’d be if he ever reappeared in your life. Although you no longer have feelings for him, there was a part of you that had pictured the two of you reconnecting when you’d started your own fashion label, and you were married to someone else. Neither of those things having happened yet, you could almost feel the justification for Jinho’s departure from your life weighing on you like a wet blanket. Of course he wouldn’t want to be with you. You couldn’t keep a partner, and the closer you got to taking the leap with your own brand, the harder it became to leave the company you worked for now.

The telltale signs of a stress migraine start to sneak into your body — a dull pinching pain starting right where your hairline begins on the back of your neck, almost like gravity gets heavier there and weighs down the rest of  your skull. It’s easy for you to determine what you need. You strip your clothes off and head into the shower, relishing how the hot water feels like a reset on your skin. Today is over. Tomorrow, you can figure out how to deal with everything else.

After your shower, you do your hair and skincare routine and change into your softest cropped tank and sweats. As you round the corner to plug in your phone, you nearly collide with a man in your apartment. 

You nearly shriek as the man grabs your shoulders to keep you from falling, but stop yourself when you realize it’s Seungcheol. He’s looking you up and down, coughing with the force of your collision — although you didn’t hit him that hard. “Nice outfit,” he chokes out.

“What the hell,” you hiss at him. “I thought you had a date!”

“I did,” he says defensively. “But I had this sneaking suspicion you were lying to me about what you really needed. So I asked her to pick it up where we left off tomorrow.”

“Did she agree to that?” you ask him with a raised eyebrow.

“Duh,” he says with an eye roll. “I’m a catch.” He inspects your face closely. “You were lying to me, weren’t you? I didn’t see Bertha.”

Bertha was the name of the obscenely old car you drove, distinctive because of its smoky black color — it looked like the whole car had been dusted with gunpowder. You sigh and extricate yourself from his grasp. “You should be a police chief.”

“Where’s Bertha?” he presses, ignoring your sarcasm.

“She died. At the museum,” you say shortly, not looking at him as you rummage around in the fridge for ingredients.

“So you took the bus?” he asks indignantly.

“Yes, because you were on a date, and I’m trying to make sure at least one of us doesn’t die alone.”

“And I’m trying to make sure you don’t die. Period.” He shakes his head in frustration, watching you with dark eyes and muscular arms folded across his chest, his jaw set in a sharp line. “I’ve told you to call if you need help. I’d rather have to come get you when it isn’t convenient for me than get a call later saying that they found your body somewhere.”

“Okay, dad,” you say sarcastically, moving to the stove. “It is not a long bus ride and I brought my pepper spray.”

“Don’t call me dad,” he says, his cheeks pink. “And I don’t care. Please just tell me next time.”

You sigh heavily. “Fine, whatever,” you agree tiredly. “So, wanna tell me about your date?”

He wrinkles his nose. “I don’t want to rub it in.”

“Nah, come on,” you plead. “Hearing about a good date might give me hope that they actually exist!”

He cracks a smile. “Well,” he says, pulling out one of the chairs at your table and taking a seat. “She’s pretty. We met at the baseball game. She’s a sports marketer. She really knows her stuff,” he muses, sounding impressed.

You suppress a surge of violent hatred for this pretty, competent, sport-savvy woman and smile at his assessment. “That’s great. And you got her to come home with you, so she must have liked you too.”

“I hope so,” he murmurs. His eyes travel over to the pot you’ve placed on the stove. “Didn’t they feed you at the exhibition?” 

“They fed us those stupid little hors d'oeuvres,” you grumble, flipping the eggy batter in the pan so it lands perfectly on the other side. “I wanted jeon, and I knew I’d be hungry later, so I made the batter ahead.”

“Wise,” Seungcheol says. He leans back in his chair, watching you for a minute. “So other than your car dying, how was your day?” he asks.

You give him a look, and he chuckles. “That good, huh?” he asks.

“Oh, Seungcheol, you have no idea.” You bring over the jeon with the sauce you’d made for it and push some over to him. “Jinho texted me like an hour ago.”

“You know I only know your exes by numbers,” he complains, poking gingerly at the jeon, which is still too hot for his hands. 

It’s frustrating to watch, so you tear a bit off with your fingers, blow on it, and hold it up to his lips. “Jinho is The First Ex,” you say as you do this.

“I’m convinced you don’t have nerve endings in your fingers,” he says before he takes it from you with his teeth. “And you’re talking about Ex #1?”

“Yes,” you say emphatically. And while Seungcheol didn’t know the full story of Jinho, he knows enough to know it’s a big deal. His eyes go wide, and you can tell he’s trying not to be nosy as he watches you. “He wants to catch up.”

“Are you gonna do it?” he asks you, taking a pair of chopsticks from the table and swirling the jeon around in some sauce.

“Why not?” you say in what you hope is an offhand voice, picking at the jeon and not looking at him. This does not fool Seungcheol for a single second. 

He clears his throat pointedly. You look at him like a child about to receive a scolding, and he groans. “Don’t give me those eyes,” he says. “I guess I can’t really blame you. I’d probably do the same thing if I were you.”

You brighten a little. “So you think it’s a good idea?” 

“I never said that,” he says with a grim grin. “I just said it’s what I’d do.”

You scowl at him. “Rude.”

“Just true,” he says with a shrug. He rises, only to collapse on the couch. “Since tomorrow night I’ll be occupied, would you like to do movie night tonight?”

“I really didn’t need the reminder that you’re getting laid, but sure,” you say, plopping down beside him. “I think it’s your turn to pick.”

Cheol smiles wickedly at you before reaching around you for the remote. “Okay. Action or romcom or horror?” he asks.

“Horror,” you reply. “It’ll make me feel better about my life.”

He chuckles and makes his selection, opening his arm for you to snuggle into his side. He knew -- from experience -- that if you weren’t snuggling something during a horror film, people (usually him) were likely to be injured by the way you jumped in fright. You willingly nuzzled yourself into the warm cream sweatshirt he wore, eventually falling asleep there despite the anxiety the movie had induced. 

Waking up in an empty apartment after movie nights with Seungcheol was always a bit crushing, but waking up on the couch with your favorite pillow from your bed, perfectly tucked into one of your favorite blankets, made your heart hurt in a different kind of way. You usually didn’t fall asleep during movies, but the stressful day you’d had had evidently worn you out. As you blinked the tiredness out of your eyes, you tried not to imagine how Cheol had probably carefully extracted himself from your grasp, tiptoeing to your bedroom to grab the pillow and blanket. How he’d probably have had to lift your head to put it on the pillow. How he’d draped the blanket over your sleeping form. It wasn’t good for your mental state to think of things like this, because it’d force you to admit something about yourself that you were extremely unequipped to handle.

So you sat up. It was Saturday, so you didn’t have work -- thank goodness -- and you decided to sketch a little to clear your head. But as you went to grab your sketchbook, there was a tiny note from Seungcheol in the corner of the open page:

“Why is this the only paper you have in your house? Lol. Anyway, I had to go home to sleep, but I put the leftover jeon in the fridge for you to eat this morning. Have a good day today :) be happier than me!”

Happier than me. This was how Seungcheol closed all of his communication with you. You seemed to be in a days-long, never-ending conversation most days, but in the rare instances when you had to part for more time than usual, he always said that. And every time, it made you melt. (Followed almost immediately by sternly reminding yourself that that was stupid.)

And so you stare at the note, half of you wanting to frame it, and the other half wanting to rip it to shreds. Instead, you just flip the page over and grumble, “he could’ve texted,” to yourself, hating the half-smile on your face that you can’t resist.

*******

“Thanks for waiting for me,” Minghao says, sitting at the head of the long table. “So, we’re talking about fall/winter of next year?”

“Menswear,” you confirm. It’s just you and he in the room, and you pull some of the pieces off the portable rack to show him.

“Want to explain why it’s two weeks late?” he says, inspecting the soft fabric of the brown suit you hand him.

“Production still hasn’t recovered back to pre-pandemic speeds,” you tell him tiredly, knowing this would come up. “We had the designs in by the deadline, but they didn’t get here until now.”

“Did Ali already cast models to wear these?” Minghao asks, moving on to the next piece and peering carefully at the design details on the cuffs of a leather jacket. “I want to get someone in this week if we can.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “Our usual models come from across the world.”

“Then recast,” he says simply. “I know that we have a good relationship with the agency you usually go through, and I understand we’ve burned bridges with a lot of the local agencies back when He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named was in charge, but I think it’d be kind of fun to use some new faces, too. It’ll catch the eye.”

You nod, biting your bottom lip in thought. “So, do you want me to do a social media sweep? Find guys in the area and invite them in?”

“Yeah, or just ask your friends. That’s how we got the deal with that producer,” Minghao reminds you, referring to a collaboration you’d arranged with one of your friend Jihoon’s proteges. 

“True,” you said, thinking to yourself. “I’ll ask around.”

So you go to your office after the meeting and text Seungcheol. 

“You: [10:34] hey, do you know anyone who might want a bit of extra cash? we need models for a shoot this week.”

“Cheol: [10:44] how much?”

“You: [10:46] uhhhh like $500? if they become a regular model for us that could become more”

“Cheol: [10:50] I got you. Wanna meet up for lunch?”

You have to laugh at this abrupt change in subject, but it’s been a couple days since you’ve seen Cheol, so you respond quickly.

“You: [10:51] sure!! where?”

“Cheol: [10:55] Bernini’s, I’ll pick you up in a half hour.”

***

“What can I get for you?” the friendly, bright-eyed waiter asks.

“I’ll have the caprese bites and the spinach and apple salad,” you say without any hesitation.

Seungcheol is squinting at the menu. “I’m still deciding,” he says. “What do you recommend?” 

“Oh!!” The server exclaims, looking excited that someone has asked. “I really love the tri-tip sandwich.”

“Yeah, that sounds awesome,” Seungcheol says. “I’ll have that.”

“He seems like a really nice kid,” you say to Seungcheol after the server scurries away to put in your orders. “Reminds me of Mingyu, a bit. He has that same puppy .” 

Seungcheol rolls his eyes but can’t hide a fond smile at the mention of his friend. “Except that guy hasn’t spilled anything on you yet.”

“How is he? With the job and everything?”

“Apparently the kid is actually awesome,” Seungcheol replies. “And it seems like the kid’s guardian is even better.”

“Does our friend Mingyu finally have a crush?” you ask, grinning widely.

“Of course. He showed me pictures. She’s some high-powered publishing whiz with her own business. She’s pretty.” He says it in an offhand way, and yet you still feel uncomfortable.

“And Wonwoo? When we went to see Vernon’s cousin perform, he seemed like he was pretty into her friend who does her makeup.”

“You know, you could just come with me to hang out with them,” Seungcheol reminds you. “Then they can tell you all about their lives in person instead of you having to hear it from me.”

You’re about to respond when you hear a familiar sound that sends every cell in your body into attack mode. It’s a grating female voice, seemingly echoing through the small restaurant. “Cheol,” you say, gripping his arm. 

“What?” he asks, alarmed at the sudden shift in tone. 

“We have to move. Now.” 

You tug him to his feet with surprising force and nearly dive underneath a big banquet table covered by a long white tablecloth. All you can see are the feet of the people passing by, so you wait. It isn’t long before the signature chunky red heels appear.

“And don’t give me a table here in the front, I need to be seated somewhere with easy patio access. For my health,” says the woman’s voice. You are positively cowering into Seungcheol under the table, and he is dumbstruck.

“Why are we here?” he asks with wide eyes. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Ex #3’s Aunt Betty. She hates me,” you squeak. “If she sees me, she’ll verbally abuse me and I’ll cry in front of everyone.”

“Why does she hate you?” Seungcheol asks, trying not to sound amused and failing.

“Because I accidentally killed her Chihuahua. Spilled an entire bottle of Benadryl on the floor and missed a few pills as I was sweeping. The poor thing weighed next to nothing. Didn’t stand a chance.” You bite your lip. “We broke up a week later.”

“That’s terrible!” Seungcheol exclaims. “No wonder she hates you.”

You smack him on the shoulder. “I’ll have you know he was the most evil chihuahua in the world, which is actually saying a lot, because chihuahuas are generally pretty awful to begin with.”

He rubs where you hit him ruefully. “Okay,” he allows, his eyes reproachful.

“Oh, I forgot to ask. Who was your friend who you wanted to model?” you whisper to him under the table.

“Is now the best time for this?” he asks.

“Well, what else do we need to discuss? Now’s as good a time as ever. Plus it’ll calm me down.”

Cheol purses his lips. “Well, it’s me.”

“What?”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “You heard me.”

“You want to model?” you ask.

“I’ve modeled before,” he assures you. “I don’t know why you’re so shocked. Do you think I’m ugly?”

You glare. “It’s most definitely not that.”

“So you think I’m hot?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

You groan. “I’m regretting this conversation so much.” Pinching the bridge of your nose and avoiding eye contact, you actually manage a chuckle. “You’re actually perfect, but it just surprises me that you’d be interested.”

“Perfect?” he exclaims. “Wow, that’s a new one. How did that taste coming out of your mouth?”

“Don’t make me take it back. Are you broke? Do you need money for some reason?”

He actually laughs. “I’m doing fine. I just think it’d be fun. Plus, I love the clothes you design.”

“I don’t design for menswear,” you remind him.

“Yeah, but it’s still your brand.”

You scoff. “Hardly. It’s Minghao’s brand. I just work there.”

“And how is starting your own thing going?” Seungcheol asks, watching you carefully. 

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you mutter. “Honestly, I wish I had the energy to do more design work after my regular job, but I’m too busy and burnt out.”

He nods sympathetically. One of the many wonderful things about Seungcheol was his compassionate nature. You know he wants to see you succeed, but also understands there are a lot of obstacles between you and what you really want to be doing.

He changes the subject so you don’t have to. “Well, anyway. Modeling is fun, and it’ll give me the chance to learn more about your company and meet your work friends and stuff.”

“Do you have a portfolio I can show Minghao?” you ask. “There’s no chance he’ll reject you, but I figured it’ll help him warm up to you.”

“Sure,” he says, pulling out his phone. “I’ll text you the link.”

You tap it on your own phone and your jaw immediately drops. “Choi Seungcheol,” you gasp.

“Why the government name?” he protests defensively.

“You -- these are --” you stutter, unable to find the right words. “I was expecting something else.” You hope that Cheol doesn’t notice how flustered you are. Photo after photo showcased his wide, broad chest, that wavy hair, his beautiful eyes with those long eyelashes, his stunning eyebrows, and his absolutely perfect lips. The clothes are nothing but a shallow accessory to emphasize a truth that you’ve always known, but until this moment, have downplayed (for your own protection). 

Your best friend is absolutely devastating.

Conveniently, you are interrupted when your server pokes his head under the table. You all stare at each other for a few seconds, blinking, before the young man speaks.  “Why did you guys run away?” he asks, bewildered.

He stares at the photos visible on your phone. “Are you guys being weird down here?” he asks.

“What do you mean?” Cheol demands.

“I’m pretty much weird wherever I go,” you offer.

“Well then come sit back down so I can give you your food,” the server says, giving both of you a strange look.

As you head back to your booth, you nudge Seungcheol. “Why did you become a statistician when you could’ve been a model and made really good money? I mean, seriously, Seungcheol.”

“Because I loved sports?” Seungcheol answers, his voice amused. You look up and he’s watching your gawking with a nearly smug expression on his face. “I’m starting to rethink my choices after this reaction, though.”

“Oh, be quiet,” you scold, shaking your head in exasperation. “I don’t need this going to your head.” You finally tear your gaze away from the photos to make eye contact with Cheol -- a grave strategic error on your part. The way the overhead lights of the cafe hit his face, bringing out the subtle golden tones in his dark brown hair and illuminating the shadows in his nearly black eyes, has you feeling dizzy and uncomfortable. His expression isn’t helping anything, either. He’s wearing his signature half-smile, one dimple poking through his cheek, and the expression in his eyes is soft and fond. It’s a look he wears often when he lays eyes on you, and it’s currently making you clench your teeth against how gooey it makes you feel inside.

“Yes ma’am,” he says, offering a mock-salute, and you give a dry chuckle, trying to play it cool while your heart makes its best attempt to beat itself out of your chest.

“That’s right,” you approve, sliding to the end of the booth. “Well, I’ll show your portfolio to Minghao, but I’m confident he’s going to say yes. Can you come over tomorrow night? I’ll need to measure you for alterations.”

“I’ll be there,” he agrees. “Aren’t you meeting with Jinho, though?”

You grimace. “Yeah, I am.”

“So, should I maybe come a different night?” he asks.

“Nah,” you say. “It’ll be good to see you right after. I might need to debrief you.”

His smile slips just a little, but you pretend not to notice. “Understood,” he says, an odd note to his voice.

***

Never, ever, in a million years, did you foresee this.

Jinho showed up with flowers. He took you out to a nice restaurant, and as the two of you finished up eating, he leaned in and took you by the hand. “I need to know. Are you seeing anyone?”

You looked him dead in the face. “If I was, I wouldn’t have come.”

A brief look of relief flashed across his face. “Then...I want to ask if it would be possible to have another shot with you,” he asked. “I know we weren’t perfect back then, and I know I broke your heart. But these past few years, I’ve been comparing every girl to you. I just know it’s you that I’m meant to be with.”

These were the words that you had imagined him saying since he broke up with you. But now that he’d said them, it was a little odd. You had expected elation hidden in the shock, but it never came. Instead, you thought of Seungcheol, who was probably making his way to your house right now, and just the thought of how he looked in the cafe yesterday with the golden light had Jinho’s words coming up oddly empty.

You were surprised at your own answer. “I don’t know that I’ve fully forgiven you yet, so I can’t say that I’ll take you back,” you had told him. “But…I guess you can try.”

Jinho had beamed at this response, and that was what had cued the long-forgotten butterflies. “That’s more than I deserve,” he had reassured you. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

By the time you make your way home, Seungcheol is at your apartment on your couch, scrolling through social media on his phone. And of course, the first words out of his mouth are, “how’d it go?”

You sigh. “He asked me to take him back.”

“And did you?” Cheol asks sharply, standing up.

“No,” you say tiredly. “Well, not really, anyway.”

“What does that mean?”

“I said he could try to win me over again, but I made no promises,” you explain, leaning against the wall to remove your heels. 

“Come sit down,” Seungcheol says, suddenly looking worried. “You don’t look well.”

“I’m fine, Cheol. Really.” You swat at him as he wraps an arm around your waist and waltzes you to the couch. The way you melt into his touch as you both sit down, somehow winding up with your head in his lap as he gently teases your scalp with soft fingers, is almost embarrassing. But you need him right now -- need some reassurance that the emotional turmoil you’re in is going to be okay, need some consistency and compassion, and you know Seungcheol is the man for that job, as much as you don’t want to admit it.

“I’m proud of you,” Seungcheol murmurs kindly. “The old you would’ve taken him back immediately.”

You manage a grin as you realize he’s right. “Thanks,” you say, straightening up a little. You’ve come a long way, and it feels good to recognize that.

Then suddenly, you remember why Seungcheol is here. “Oh!” you exclaim, sitting all the way up. “I need to measure you.”

“It’s okay, you can rest for a minute,” Seungcheol tells you, but you’re already on your feet, running for your measuring tape. Once you’ve retrieved it, you gesture for him to come stand in the middle of the room. 

“I’m gonna have to get a little friendly,” you warn him, and he scoffs.

You begin with measuring across his shoulders, using your phone to annotate the measurement in a spreadsheet you’ll give to the tailors later. As you reach around his chest with the measuring tape, your gaze flicks to his face, and you have to catch your breath.

It’s not just that your hands are brushing up against his muscular frame in a way that, despite all your physical closeness with Cheol, you have never allowed yourself to touch him. Not to mention, he’s wearing skintight clothing like you had requested, and it’s showing off his body beautifully. But it’s also the way he’s looking at you -- his dark eyes smoldering like embers, trained on you without breaking his gaze, the corners of those gorgeous lips turned slightly up so that the pinprick hints of his dimples can be seen. It has your face feeling hot and your heart doing its stupid, reckless, too-quick tap dance routine. You swallow hard and look away, and Cheol gives a low chuckle that makes you literally stumble backwards, only prevented from falling on your ass by Seungcheol himself. 

Because the minute you became startled, his arms reached around you instinctively, steadying you. And oh, he’s so warm and sturdy and real, and though you’ve been in his arms many times before, this feels new. Somehow, this feels both like the first time you’ve ever been held, and the most natural thing in the world, as familiar as coming home for the holidays. Your hands had shot out and twisted into Seungcheol’s soft white tee as you’d stumbled, and you now have to force yourself not to look at him as you extricate yourself with a mumbled apology.

Wordlessly, you continue to measure Seungcheol, unable to keep yourself from occasionally glancing back at his perfect face, while he continues to look at you, that same soft smile on his lips. You wrap your arms around his waist with the measuring tape, taking down his measurement with shaking hands, before dropping your hands lower to measure his hips. As you adjust the tape across his widest point, you look at him again, and you’re surprised to see him looking flustered, a blush rising in his cheeks. “Am I making you uncomfortable?” you ask -- only your voice comes out husky and soft because of the way your throat has seemed to close with the nearness of him.

“Uh, no,” he says, looking up at the ceiling. “You got it. Keep going.”

You try to shake yourself out of being flustered, and focus instead on measuring his inseam and outseam, after which you measure around his bicep as your final measurement. By the end of the measuring session, you’re both sweating, and both of you are holding your breath. Seungcheol makes some excuse for why he needs to go home, and vacates himself in a matter of seconds, leaving you standing dumbfounded in the living room.

You aren’t sure what just happened between the two of you, but you know that whatever it was has left you with a hollow kind of ache in your chest and absolutely no knowledge on how to cure it.

[musicalmoritz]

I love fics that let Aoinene be messy

I know the general attitude towards this ship is “wow cute lesbians, good for them” but it makes me so happy when people actually address the conflict of their dynamic. Aoi wants to open up to Nene but Nene is too consumed by her own problems to notice. She makes Aoi feel invisible, and as a result Aoi keeps her at a distance. They both lie to each other to the point that neither of them really know who the other is. Nene forgives Aoi way too easily for her actions during the Grim Reaper arc because in her eyes, her best friend can do no wrong. Aoi can be very passive-aggressive to Nene sometimes, leading me to believe she harbors a lot of bitterness towards her. These are elements that make the ship more interesting, their conflict gives them more substance than just being the fluffy side ship to Terukane. Speaking of which, it strikes me as odd that the ships involving men are praised for their toxicity whereas the wlw ships either have their problems entirely erased or are hated for not being perfect

This is why most of my Aoinene fics (especially the longer ones) involve miscommunication and arguments. I like seeing them struggle before they get to be happy, putting in a mutual effort to work out their problems. I like fluff twice as much as the next person, but angst with wlw ships just hits different for me. It’s sweet that a lot of fics have Aoi viewing Nene as the solution to all her problems but hear me out…what if she’s not? What if Aoi starts out being more in love with the idea of Nene as her savior, and then has to come to terms with the fact that Nene makes her feel just as lonely as everyone else does? But she still loves her, so she’s stuck on whether to confront Nene about these problems or keep it all inside. And poor Nene knows something is off but she can’t for the life of her figure out what it is and she’s too scared of change to bring it up. It’s not overwhelming amounts of toxicity but they’d have to actually talk shit out before riding off into the sunset together

I personally believe Aoi to be BPD coded in canon and that is how I write her in all my fics, so the concept of Aoinene (and AoiAoi) as an FP dynamic is also interesting to me. Nene is the one person Aoi can stand and those feelings become so strong that they’re almost unbearable. She starts splitting with her when she realizes Nene has been lying, she grows to hate her at times but she still bases so much of her self-worth on what Nene thinks and she’s terrified of losing her. This is another area they need to communicate in but because Aoi is allergic to admitting her true feelings, it’s more-so something Nene has to pick up on herself. She can be a little dense but when she truly loves someone she lets them know it so I like to have her give Aoi the reassurance she needs

This post is a bit self-indulgent and everyone is free to write them however they want but idk, I’d love to see more fics that let them have problems. Especially ones where Aoi finally opens up to Nene and they properly talk out the Grim Reaper arc. And also more fics where they’re both allowed to be flawed!! Let Nene be selfish and let Aoi be bitter!! This kinda goes for every TBHK character because I LOVE fics that explore their flaws without getting ooc. I want to see them be the worst while still being sympathetic

My main point here is that Aoinene is just as deserving of conflict and angsty plots as every tbhk ship and that’s something I’d like to see more of with them. Toxic yuri enjoyers…you know what to do

[dkmbookworm]

Oh my god so this topic exactly is why I dont see diomedes fitting in with epic. Like im a HUGE fan of him (and odypendio) and I could see him being in Ithaca in some post-canon even in the epic canon but he is just not A Character in Epic to be encluded in ody's time in the trojan war as as close as he is in the source material yaknow

Oh definitely. I think it’s fun when I see works include diomedes in a future/post-canon fic or comic. But Jorge is trying to keep his story self/contained to the odyssey itself because it creates a clearer storyline to work with

Most people have read the odyssey in hs and have a decent understanding of its plot, but by composition the Illiad wasn’t covered as much outside of notes (at least in my school’s case). He already has to juggle a lot of characters and storylines and musical themes and motifs, so this just makes it easier for him as an indie creator + he is retelling his story to get the theme he wants across most.

It’s why he has been explicitly clear that epic cannot be supplemental material over reading the odyssey. You will fail, he took creative liberties for his retelling. To say the least about translating a character for a modern audience within the setting itself

Just think of how much it takes in terms of the set up to have a character who opens the story with killing a baby. And still walk out of it sympathetic after that. We have an entire trope around “wouldn’t hurt a child” for villain character and Odysseus explicitly goes against this. Because we have the set up that he is being faced with trolley problems throughout his journey “the blood on your hands is something you won’t lose, all you can choose is whose”. Violence is inescapable in this world and you have to make a decision about whose blood is going to be spilt, your own or someone else’s.

But this kind of falls apart if you consider the original illiad as canon to this and see what ody was during the actual war. He was already ruthless, downright cruel at times. And this has been memed on plenty in cases where diomedes comes back into the story to recount what they did together in the war. If the illiad was adapted, any idea of what happens specifically has to come from Jorge as this is his version of Odysseus and would need to fit into his storyline/character progression for him.

The death of Iphigenia, abandoning Philoctetes, enslaving Hecuba, etc. All these things contradict actions/decisions Odysseus takes in the story and it makes sense to leave them out in this context.

[coraniaid]

🔥 - Cordelia

Cordelia is a character I generally like without actually thinking about her very much, if that makes sense? Maybe I would care about her more actively if I were more invested in Angel; or maybe knowing what that show will ultimately do to her is what stops me from getting invested in it. Not really sure either way to be honest.

As far as hot takes go ... well, I don't think I really buy into most of the Cordelia fanon I sometimes see on Tumblr. Can't really put why better than I did last year. Like I said in my recent Faith hot take: I don't like the fanon instinct to try to make characters nicer and more sympathetic than they're presented as in canon, especially when they have some kind of canonical redemption arc. You're getting rid of one of the more interesting things about them! Why?

On the other hand, I do like the headcanon (not originally mine - I think I got this from @all-seeing-ifer) that Cordelia is ace, or at least that she's accidently ace-coded. I mean, I certainly don't think it is at all deliberate on the part of the writers, but when you go to look there sure are a lot of scenes in which Cordelia either expresses disinterest in (sometimes even disgust at) the very idea of sex (in Faith, Hope & Trick for example: "not the horny thing -- yuck!") or admits to being confused by the thought that other people might want to have sex (in Innocence, for example, she asks Xander with seeming genuine puzzlement: "does looking at guns really make girls want to have sex? That's scary.").

Oh, and although the show is really not clear on this at all, I think the high school Scooby dynamic is slightly more interesting if Willow and Cordelia were (briefly) friends when they were both much younger. To borrow a term I saw recently, this is more canon compatible than canon compliant -- I don't think anything in canon rules it out, but it's a bit of a stretch to say this something that actually comes from canon.

Certainly Xander and Cordelia knew each other from a very young age (they've known each other for at least twelve years in Season 2, as per The Dark Age). And as Willow and Xander were friends as early as kindergarten (which is confirmed in Grave if not before), I think it's safe to assume Cordelia knew Willow at that age too. In Innocence Willow reminds Xander of the "We Hate Cordelia" club ("of which you are treasurer!"), but we don't know exactly when this was formed (I'm guessing a while ago though, given the childishness of the name). What if said club was something Willow formed only after she and Cordelia stopped being friends? After Cordelia met Harmony, say (who we also know, from Graduation Day, is somebody Willow has known for at least a decade: "she picked on me for ten years") and chose being popular over her previous friendship?

Again, I suspect this isn't intentional but it's a take I rather like, and one that I think makes a bit of internal sense. Willow and Cordelia do actually seem to get on better than you might think in the early seasons -- when there's nobody else around for Cordelia to try to impress by putting Willow down, anyway (among other examples, see their intereactions throughout Prophecy Girl). And while Willow obviously doesn't like, say, Harmony -- in fact she hates her "with a fiery vengeance" according to Graduation Day again -- there was apparently no "we hate Harmony" club. What makes Cordelia different (beyond being a main character when Harmony isn't, which is probably what the writers actually had in mind).

Well, what if Cordelia isn't just one of the many people who bullied Willow in high school: what if she was her friend until she ditched her to be more popular? Wouldn't that sting just a little bit more?

We know that Cordelia is actually pretty smart, even though she tries to play it down ("I have some experience of covering these things up," she tells Xander after he sees her SAT scores in Lovers Walk; and don't forget she'd previously said she was "looking forward" to taking the SATs because she "does well in standardized testing" and was accepted into multiple good schools she just couldn't afford to attend). In fact, Cordelia basically has to be academically successful in high school in order to fulfull her primary role as Buffy's shadow self.

But if Cordelia consciously realised at some point that she should hide how smart she is from her peers in order to be popular, is it that much of a stretch to think she also decided to cut off her existing friendship with Willow, who Principal Snyder describes in Doppelgangland as represenative of "the pinnacle of academic achievement at Sunnydale High"?

Also, in the spirit of this post about parallels between Willow and Cordelia (which I really like), it's interesting to compare Willow's nightmare in Restless -- being back in high school and somehow being Found Out -- with Cordelia's fear in Season 1's Nightmares of being dragged into the chess club (which, at least in the language of television) is easy to read as a metaphor for being exposed as somebody who is secretly brainy and perhaps enjoys stereotypically academic or nerdy things. Just like Willow does, in fact.

Remember what Cordelia tells Buffy all the way back in Welcome To The Hellmouth when they run into Willow: "if you want to fit in here, the first rule is: know your losers". That is: Cordelia tells Buffy, the girl who she serves as a mirror of all season, that if she wants to fit in she'll have to choose not to be friends with Willow (and instead performatively belittle and bully her whenever she has an audience). Is it that much of a leap to suppose that a much younger Cordelia once learned that lesson herself?

[void-detective]

I find it interesting and cool that Jacob really is that next in line to the tribal chief angle. If we think about how much cinema and things connecting again we can see a lot of similarities between him and Solo.

-----

"Everything I learned was from him"

Let's start plain and simple with Solo's half of this story with his similarities to Roman Reigns. This all began when his older brothers Jimmy and Jey advertently placed the dangerous idea that Solo deserved to be the Tribal Chief and much to Roman's amusement as I may put it. But that's not the only time because Roman also has placed this dangerous idea into the younger man's mind with his words about how he would be the next tribal heir to step up after him.

Everyone around him placed this idea that he deserved and was the next tribal chief even without realizing what this idea would do to him.

And now that he IS the tribal chief he is either subconsciously or consciously doing a LOT like Roman from mannerisms to talking. A lot of people have mentioned the 'tribal twitches' a nod to those moments of Roman being ticked off or peeved by someone or something. Like a lot of people have been showing he copied a lot of Roman's mannerisms and to me I believe they weren't on purpose as much as just something he picked up from being around Roman.

You know what else he picked up from Roman? How to manipulate.

During his beginning reign as chief he exhibited and showed his clear learned behavior from Roman in terms of how to manipulate and get people to be on your side. This is most prevalent in his actions around Paul and Jimmy with those tiny moments of playing sympathetic and knowing just what to say to fuck with people.

He knows things like that soft spoken tone is more intimidating then if he were to be yelling and showing off a temper. Which is something Roman did a lot towards Jey and Sami, it was a lot more effective to be soft spoken with these times and the how you word yourself to hold that control over those beneath you.

He also knew that by subtly threatening Paul and planting seeds of doubt would cause the Wiseman not to fight back because this wasn't something Roman did a lot. Unlike his relationship to the OTC there wasn't this much of an underlaying fear of getting on the receiving end of his wrath (even though it has happened).

Everything about Solo screams the direct words Seth told Cody about how Roman turned out, it plays right into how Solo ended up. There's always been this play that Solo WANTED the position and he wasn't happy just playing out as Roman's enforcer.

----

"Roman Reigns is to weak"

Towards the road to WrestleMania we see the culmination of Roman's emotional turmoil and his past catch up to him. We know to a T that Roman is a highly emotional and caring person even if it's under the guise of emotional manipulation. The one thing that set apart Solo and Roman was their compassion or lack there of on Solo's part. To Roman his manipulation and control over his family was in a twisted way trying to protect and love them in the only way he believed would keep them with him.

He has hurt and caused trauma to those he loved because of how badly one betrayal had left him. Without friends and with all the hate from the crowd it twisted what was a very compassionate man to a cold jaded man who saw that he could only keep that close connection by drastic means. Even if it meant hurting those he cared about the most.

That's what sets apart Solo and Roman because even if they are sharing those manipulative tendencies, it's all coming from two very different reasons.

Solo has only ever seemed to have a genuine connection to Sami during his time in the Bloodline, not even his own brothers who at most he seemed to tolerate. Any compassion or friendship he may have had died the day Sami left and turned which in my opinion was his own version of Seth's betrayal. He loved Sami in his own way as he was one of the second people in the Bloodline to have been befriended by the Canadian and maybe,,Sami's betrayal was the thing that truly snapped any semblance of trust he had to anyone.

----

"New faces, more family"

Hear me out, I kinda feel like Solo kicking out Jimmy from the Bloodline was a calculated move because he knew that this version of the Bloodline was weak. One made out of Roman's vision which meant it was weak and made it love. Which meant it wouldn't work for Solo.

I believe that bringing in Jacob, Tama, and Tonga was all a calculated move because he had new people he could personally manipulate. They wouldn't notice the tactics he learned and adapted from Roman like Jimmy or Paul would've which made it so much easier create a team that would believe his every word. Plus to him it would further push him knowing that he had learned all he needed to be like Roman.

In the new Bloodline there is none of that familial love even with the Tongans and Jacob being family. This is a team pretending to be like the old Bloodline but lacking any of that structure that made them work.

The only problem within the new Bloodline comes in the form of one man.

-----

"Jacob Fatu, step up"

For the past few months we have been seeing hints and glimpses of a similar situation occuring between Solo and Jacob that has happened before with Solo ans Roman. The whole being ignored and overshadowed has been played for part within the role of enforcer to the Bloodline and this is ever so true for Jacob. Ever since he became part of new Bloodline he has been within the back ever lurking and watching playing that "protective force" for Solo even when we all know those looks mean so much more.

Unlike the Tongans in many ways, Jacob has done and said things that show his role in the future of this storyline will be bigger. He's the only member who vehemently states at every situation (when solo is seemingly suspicious or actively looking) for attention he is the one to shout and express his love for his cousin. He is always going out of his way with his actions and words to push that knowledge that he loves Solo onto him even if it seems like the latter is becoming more and more paranoid by it.

Jacob has been working hard to gain his spot and the trust of the new tribal chief but where does his hard work go? No where. Not only did Solo strip the title off him (just for him to get out the boot not even a week later) he forced him to give it to LOA, he also "promoted" him to an enforcer instead of champion.

Why though?

It's all calculated moves by Solo because even with this new Bloodline and the loyalty of Jacob he is scared of being overlooked and or losing the control over his Bloodline like Roman. He is exercising his control much like Roman did to him so Jacob won't over shadow him, back in the day people WANTED Solo but now they don't.

So when someone much more experienced, intimating, and loved comes into the Bloodline and gets his attention? Oh does it ever so piss him off. Because when he looks at Jacob he sees everything that he isn't and can't be as a tribal chief. He sees someone that is above his level and could at the turn of a dime be exactly what everyone wanted him to be.

To Solo he sees a better version of himself in the Samoan Werewolf.

And that....

...scares him.

[drdemonprince]

I don't know if this a place to share, or if this even relevant to anything, but i want to share an observation. I've been around queer groups for a decade or so, usually just observing and listening, and something i have observed is that very slowly trans women (specially out trans women and non-passing ones) seem to have incredible being reduce in meetings and talks. Like i used to see way more of them but now it is becoming less and less. For some reason they seem to have been push out of the spaces very subtly and nobody seems to care (i don't have an explanation of this at all). On the other hand the amount of trans men and trans masculine folk seem to have maintained some consistency. I don't exactly know whats going on this communities, but there seems to be something that is pushing trans women away, while not having the same effect on trans men. I don't have any solutions, just wanted to share because i feel like as a trans woman I am less and less welcomed in queer spaces but can't really pin point why is that.

Thanks for your message anon and for sharing this observation. The thing is: We know what is going on! Trans women talk about this all the time! Trans men and other TME trans people speak over them, sexually harass them, downplay their concerns, talk about them having "male" socialization, take advantage of their emotional labor, ignore them, don't give them room to be vulnerable, nitpick their stories of abuse and mistreatment, disbelieve them when they have been victimized, and all the while complain that they are so much more visible and have so many more resources than trans mascs do (which just is not true) and talking about how disgusting penises are.

You probably have not noticed these dynamics happening directly; most men are oblivious to sexism to an extent, and even men who have experienced plenty of sexism themselves as trans guys can miss these dynamics when they are experienced by trans women. It also is the case that a lot of the worst abuses happen behind the scenes: there are a lot of predatory people who are trans or enby yet behave as invasive chasery creeps to trans women, all while constantly indicating to trans women that they will not be believed if they come forward about abuse -- and in fact will be accused of being the abusers themselves.

I have multiple trans women friends here in Chicago who simply cannot show up to certain queer community events like beach days or club nights because they know there's a specific "afab enby" there who will grope them and then accuse them of abuse. There's entire self-defense guides designed for trans women meant to address this specific issue because it is so widespread.

And that is just one issue that a lot of trans women face in gender diverse or generally queer spaces. At a queer/pup karaoke night two weeks ago, multiple drunk bar patrons harassed and physically attacked a trans woman there, and then when the cops arrived, they tried to arrest the trans woman. (Thankfully all the bar staff and event organizers were very very clear that she was not the one provoking the fight -- but the cops still didn't really believe them. The man who attacked her is banned from the bar now forever. She isn't. If she'd been in a slightly less sympathetic crowd, who knows what would have happened).

In another local queer community group I used to attend, a trans femme board member was accused of abuse in the vaguest terms possible -- by someone who has now, years later, been outed as abusing multiple women close to him himself. Most people in this group have no idea about it, of course. It all happened in shadowy conjecture and whisper campaigns. I could go on and on and thanks for your patience but you get the picture.

I don't know what the vibe is in the groups you frequent, and I can't guarantee that any of the trans women have dropped off the map because of anything as severe as this, but I pretty much can guarantee there are some dynamics there that are making them uncomfortable. My suggestion? If there were any trans women in the group that you liked, try hitting them up. Ask some of them out for coffee. Ask what she's been reading or watching lately. Go to the museum or a show. Be her friend. Don't pry about why she stopped going to the group, just be a friendly, supportive presence in her life. In time, you might learn why she and others like her stopped going to that space. or you'll just have greater gender diversity in your life and your support circle, which is really important. Some trans spaces are utterly ruined by the presence of a few toxic trans mascs or aggressively afab-identified people. But you can help to build better spaces one relationship at a time.

Thanks again for your message.

[bibibbon]

Characters with wasted potential : shota aizawa (rant)

Look I first got into the series because of the idea of dadzawa but now i can confirm that it is just a fanon concept that people made(one that I wish was actually true). I have many problems with Aizawa's character that hori never really focuses on:

HE IS A BAD TEACHER. It is without doubt that aizawa shota is cannonically a horrible teacher who clearly favourites students like bakugo and shinso while clearly treating other students like izuku unfairly. One of the things that makes him a bad teacher is the whole expulsion thing. Something like that is very big as it completely ruins a perfect record which can ruin lives AND CREATE VILLAINS. Even his old students fear him and have a bad impression of him which doesn't help the "oh dadzawa" or "aizawa is a good teacher stuff". Shota can and will protect the students but that's it in terms of teaching his students something and taking care of them he rarely does that.

THE WAY HE INTERACTS WITH OTHER CHARACTERS. Iam talking about both sides here. He favours bakugo and goes to extreme lengths to defend him even though the public actually have a point and even nedzu states that the reason that they kidnapped Katsuki was because of his behaviour. It then makes no sense for him to keep on criticising midoriya instead of actually doing something and helping him handle OFA (he is one of the best teachers to help him with combat and his quirk) even if he doesn't know about OFA specifically he can still train and help midoriya which he never does or never offers. The only time we see him train a student it isn't even someone from HIS OWN CLASS which adds to the whole he looks like a bad teacher.

HIS BACKSTORY. Let's be honest the whole oboro and kurogiri thing had potential but it's all their just for shota and to make him a lot more sympathetic. It's literally Horikoshi's way of giving us a reason to justify shota's on paper expulsions and why he is so distant which doesn't work. His backstory had potential but was dealt with the wrong way to the point where later in the series all that shota is reduced to is the nomu oboros friend.

HIS INCONSISTENCY. Eraserheads character is very inconsistent like he goes from being this bad teacher who threatened to expel any student for coming last on a test and not showing heroic potential to him somehow forging yuuga for being the traitor and sympathising with him?!?! To me this development kind of comes out of nowhere especially when you realise that he KNEW he treated izuku badly and THEN PROCEEDED TO NOT APOLOGISE AT ALL?!!!?!?!. There are many other things inconsistent with his character like the way he treats all might and his friends like istg midnight is your friend so why you shutting present mic up for being angry and grieving midnights death?!!?!!

Honestly, I don't think Aizawa was supposed to come of as a bad teacher and a bad person but because of Horikoshi's writing it came out that way which is sad. I think horikoshi wanted him to be something similar to kento nanami (jjk) and hatake Kakashi (Naruto) but that didn't work out as seen here. You can improve this by:

Making him a good teacher. Show him reading his students files and trying to learn more about his students before meeting them which would help with his introduction scene where we see him waiting outside of the class to see how everyone is settling in. Have him use his rational deceptions but not make the consequences something huge like expulsion ( a transfer or a visit to the principles office would have the same effect). Let him acknowledge bakugos behaviour and have him call out stuff he sees. It makes no sense to me why anyone espe shota who got bullied by someone just like bakugo likes and constantly defends bakugo. HAVE HIM ACKNOWLEDGE/ LEARN MORE ABOUT HIS CLASS; he should know stuff like how secretive and closed off shoto is or how unusually aggressive bakugo is. Have him give actual concequences to his class that make sense like with mineta and bakugo they should of been dropped long ago or at least been sent to nedzus office so he can deal with them. FOR A GUY SO LOGICAL SHOTA DOESN'T SEEM TO DO ANY OF THIS!!!

Change the way we see him talk to and interacting with different characters. Iam all for having him be someone closed off but someone who still cares because that's the something that the narrative tries to do but fails at. The narrative also tries to make him as this guy who is scared to form real bonds as a trauma response to what happend with oboro but ironically he always ends up caring and trying to protect people in his own way which is an interesting plot point but fails. I would be content in keeping both of those plot ideas as a part of his character however, to do that have him not have any FAVOURITES and just slowly/unconsciously have him build bonds with the students in his class (can start to happen after the usj) and for shinso have him build a bond after shinso manages to get into the hero course. When it comes to him talking and interacting with his students keep him blunt and have him point out flaws but also give ideas and help into how to actually FIX THE FLAWS. This could lead to him trying to help izuku with his quirk situation and actually teach him quirkless combat (which is something CANON IZUKU SHOULD OF HAVE LEARNT!!!) From then we can see aizawas perception of izuku slowly change and he slowly starts to understand his student and realises the uncanny similarities they both end up sharing. When it comes to him interacting with teachers have him at the start feel like he doesn't fit in and be distant but slowly with the help of his friends present mic and midnight he starts to open up to the UA staff and we can get him develop a little rivalry with Vlad (I know a lot of people say it exists but it's quite one sided with just Vlad being competitive) Iam not saying aizawa should be extroverted and competitive but still be petty and uphold a bit of the rivalry in his own way. When it comes to his friends I think with them he should be close but also have this irrational fear of losing his friends ( actually have him realise and try to teach the dangers of heroics). With all might I feel like he should respect him as a hero and what his goal is which is to teach heroics to the younger generation ( he still doesn't know about OFA until way later ) but have him as someone who has been teaching for a longer time period give constructive criticism and sympathise a bit cos let's be honest teaching a group of overpowered kids is tough.

Have his backstory focus on him and his friends. When reading the vigilantes manga and just looking at the main manga you can clearly tell that the whole backstory of oboro and the kurogiri situation is just there for aizawa and no one else which is such a shame considering it ruins all the characters that are involved writing. Throughout the reveal, we should of focused on the whole rooftop trios reaction as a whole and not only on aizawas we should of seen them try and take comfort and confide in eachother ,we should of seen their own regrets and suffering while giving all the characters screen time to show that. Also aizawas backstory doesn't make sense considering how he goes on to favour bakugo even though he was bullied by someone like bakugo so have him actually follow his backstory and maybe as a teacher empathise more with Izuku and try and help whatever nonsense pos is on.

It's such a pity that aizawa (one of Horikoshi's favourite characters) has so much wasted potential and could of been a great teacher that tried his best to teach and protect his students but because of the inconsistencies in his character and his actions all of that just FAILS horribly.