#my algorithm knows me okay!

[lavellanvibes]

Fellow Volkarin spouses, TELL ME this isn’t the perfect piece of grave gold that Emmrich would propose with

[hplonesomeart]

Hey!! So turns out a video I made between a certain “well beloved but highly sensitive/emotionally reactive T.V” and an “orange haired inkling-turned-human” has managed to sweep my YouTube channel and accumulate 100k VIEWS!! THAT’S A LOT OF PEOPLE ACTUALLY?? My most widely viewed video EVER to exist in this moment in time?? AAAAA?? Not even mentioning the various comments and staggering increase in subs! It’s so much more then what I expected or even prepared for—might even be the most impactful thing to happen for me this year <3

…aside from graduating high school + the social connections I’ve been fortunate to make lol

BUT THE POINT IS I’d been closely monitoring the YouTube growth through the entirety of October. It’s make me smile like a dork, gawk in astonishment, dance frantically in my room from the energy boosts, and grow courage to stop being so selective/self-conscious with what I wish to share with the world! It’s kept my ambitions going!

I needed to find some way to celebrate the occasion and express my thanks—because I can’t NOT acknowledge this milestone jksjskp. Typically I try to avoid getting tunnel visioned focusing on the metrics/numbers. Mr. Puzzles had already demonstrated how much those things can mess with the minds of creatives. Caring too much about chasing views or placing your artistic value in attention seeking gets damaging. But at same time…it’s hard to deny the sense of pride the 100k achievement has filled me with. I understand that reaching 100k views doesn’t immediately make me any “better” or “worse” then I was before. I’m still just me! It only helps me feel seen by others—and that’s all I really needed. To hear some nice words & receive reminders that my ideas are cared about. So thank you SMG4 fandom for that, seriously thank you.

Please accept this Mr. Puzzle drawing as a way of sharing the happiness around. He’s so entertaining. Love him for simply existing. So glad we can all collectively be super attached to him (and the rest of the SMG4 cast of course). Can’t wait to see more incredible artworks from the fandom :)

Just incase anyone is confused by my vague description over which “animated video” I’m referring to here—hopefully this photo will help clarify lol. It’s this one!! Sorry about not outright stating the title at the start, I got carried away with writing!!

I’ve been in an odd place mentally when thinking about it. Wondering to myself if any of the attention is deserved considering it’s not even fully colored and could be dismissed as “low effort” content (despite taking several days making it). It’s easy to get into a trap of comparing yourself to others and questioning how much of the videos success is based on your skills, sheer algorithm luck, or only because you used popular characters and catered to a specific fandom. And then judging yourself by looking at other peoples videos. I’ve seen several artists post higher quality works then my own but it somehow gets less views. So why did mine succeed when others (who should have gotten just as much attention if not more) didn’t? Sometimes you feel like you’ve unfairly robbed them of that chance to be seen. However I’ve realized that I can’t ever expect views to be consistent—and comparing is pointless. So why worry about it or feel inadequate? I mean it’s pretty common for funny cat videos to go viral, so who am I to question the system lol. “Popular” YouTube videos can range from a passion project which took 7+ artists…to a clip of Toad singing Chandelier or a nonsensical Vine sketch. Anything can happen when it’s the internet! And just-so-happened my video was chosen. I should stay glad about that and get rid of all the overanalyzing. So that’s what I’ve chosen to do :)

[funkytoesart]

you can always tell the people who give social media advice who are naturally or conventionally attractive even without even having to look at a photo of them cause they're always the ones that recommend showing your face in reels or videos to promote your art and it's like,,, talk about pretty/skinny privilege lol

[bmpmp3]

i dont really check my youtube stats much because im just playing around and i upload at mysterious intervals but sometimes when i do there'll be one random video with like 80 views in a day instead of my usual 1 view wonders and i'll get like scared. who's discord server was i posted in.

[demiclar]

Just spotted a ChatGPT Destiny fic on Ao3 for the first time, muted it immediately, I didn’t even look. Y’all, if you’ve got an idea that you want someone to write about, first I’d say try your hand a writing it but if you don’t want to do that, offer it to someone who might actually want to write it. I promise you, ChatGPT doesn’t give a shit about those characters you love so much. It’s not going to do them justice. Maybe it will give you exactly what you ask for, but the value of art is in the humanity and the meaning you can find in it, ChatGPT just isn’t that.

[faunandfloraas]

Okay what is with dudes who have nice curly hair not embracing it </3

[silvashapeshifter]

sliva, I heard from Miles that something happened regarding proshippers, r u okay?

that's very kind of you to worry, but it's okay ! I didn't get harassed or anything, even if the amount of proshippers answering to tell me i'm wrong in the comment section of a post of an actual proshipper did scared me at first. I'll block the ones who are disrespectful, that's all !

if anything ever goes wrong/makes me deeply uncomfortable, i'll report it, don't worry 👍

[thehealingsystem]

nate please please please please I am shaking you by the shoulders right now no one needs to do this please you can make a actual thought provoking interesting thumbnail for the song you don't need to appeal to clickbait algorithms anymore you're still letting yourself be bound to it people loved your early original songs for what they were without this. please stop doing this please stop changing thumbnails I am going to cry

[moonfromearth]

Happy Spotify Wrapped a.k.a. the one day a year I download the Spotify app just to take screenshots 😉

[sunderwight]

My default assumption whenever I see people pitching fits about how characters or ships or the color of the wallpaper or whatever else they don't like must be evil, is that they are a teenager.

They are a teenager who has never used anything other than an algorithmic feed on a social media app to find fannish content, they don't even know where the settings page is, and they're having a real bad time. They have to get up early in the morning, school is awful, all their clique-y peers have been mean to them about their weight, their teachers are impatient, they just got seven hours of homework and their last class was gym. And they are eternally frightened that they're secretly a bad person and their only current recourse against this is to be like, at least I know that pineapple on pizza is a sin.

Approaching things from this angle has never steered me wrong. Even when the person in question is not literally a teenager, they're still pretty much letting their inner kid drive the bus right now.

"A four year age gap is abusive!" okay champ. Screen time's up. Let's get you a protein shake and a nap.

[professorspork]

idk how to word this properly but wrt the fanfic thing you reblogged earlier. Why do fanfic writers have such different expectations than any other content hosting platform?

Like lets take youtube as a point of comparison, Engagement like comments and likes largely exists to boost the works place in algorithm, thats why youtubers put in calls to action and other engament bait. Few with decent reach even read the comments and the audience shouldnt try to develop any weird parasocial relationship with the youtuber. Fanfic authors ask for likes (kudos, because the websites gotta use nonstandard language for some reason) and comments despite them not having any impact on an algorithm, and seem to want the audience to try and develop a relationship with the author based on tumblr posts like that one.

Why the radical difference in behaviour away from the norm? And honestly with all the (usually) metaphorical blood spilled online about parasociality why are authors really surprised that the audience tries to keep their distance as is best practice with any other content producer?

okay I am going to answer this as kindly and as calmly as I can and try to assume that you are asking this in good faith. because my friend, the fact that you feel the need to ask is, to me, The Problem.

[this is, for the record, in response to this post]

fanfiction writers are not *posting content.* (I also have reservations about engaging with the term "content producer" or "content creator" but let's put that aside for now, I'll circle back to it.) you say "they seem to want the audience to try and develop a relationship with the author" as though it is strange, off-putting, and incomprehensible to you, when in fact that is the point of writing fanfiction. it is a way of participating in fandom. it is a way of building community and exchanging ideas and becoming closer with people.

if authors wanted to solely ~generate content~ that would get them attention (?? to what end, the dynamic you have described seems to equate algorithmic supremacy as winning for winning's sake, as though all anyone wants to do is BUILD an audience without ENGAGING with them, which I cannot fathom but let's pretend for a moment that is, in fact, true) then like. if that were the case why on earth would they choose a medium in which they categorically cannot succeed and profit, because it isn't their IP?

you are equating two things that are not at all the same thing. to the degree that parasocial relationships are to be avoided, and "that person is not trying to be your friend they are trying to entertain you, please respect their boundaries" is a real dynamic -- which it is!! -- like. you have to understand that the reason that is true for the people of whom it is true is because it is their JOB. they are storytellers by profession, and they are either through direct payment, or sponsorship, or advertising, or through some other means, profiting off of your attention. i don't say this to be dismissive, many wonderful artists and actors and comedians and any number of a thousand things that i enjoy very much go this route but they do so as a *career choice.* and so when you violate the public/private boundary with them, you are presuming to know a Person rather than their Worksona. the people who work at Dropout or who stream their actual play tabletop games or who broadcast on TikTok or YouTube are inviting me to feel like i know them to the degree to which that helps them succeed in their medium and at their craft, but there MUST be a mutual understanding that that's a feeling, not a fact.

however.

a fanfiction writer is not an influencer, not a professional, and is not looking to garner "success." there is no share of audience we are trying to gain for gain's sake, because we are not competition with one another, because there is nothing to win other than the pleasure of each other's company. we are doing this for no other reason than the love of the game; because we have things we want desperately to say about these worlds, these characters, these dynamics, and because we *want more than anything to know we are not alone in our thoughts and feelings.* fanfiction is a bid for interaction, engagement, attention, and consideration. it is not meant to be consumed and then moved on from because we are NOT paid for our work, nor do we want to be. the reward we seek is "attention," but attention as in CONVERSATION, not attention as in clicks. we are not IN this for profit, or for number-go-up. there is no such thing: legally there cannot be. we are in this because we want to be seen and known.

like. please understand. i am now married to someone i met because of mutual comments on fanfiction. our close friend and roommate, with whom i have cohabitated for over a decade now, is someone I met because of mutual comments on fanfiction and livejournal posts. that is my household. beyond my household, the vast majority of my closest personal friends are people with whom I built relationships in this way.

you ask why fanfiction writers want THIS and not "the norm," but the idea of everything being built to cater to an algorithm to continue to build clout, as though the only method of reaching people is Distant Overlord Creator and Passive Receptive Audience being "the norm" is EXTREMELY NEW. this is not how it has always been!! please think of the writers of zines in a pre-internet fandom, using paper and glue and xerox to try and meet like-minded people in a world that was designed for you to only ever meet people in person, by happenstance, in your own hometown. imagine the writers of the early internet, building webrings from scratch to CREATE a community to find each other, despite distance. imagine livejournal groups, forums, and -- yes, indeed, of course -- comment threads IN STORIES -- as places where people go to *converse.* in the past, we had an entire Type Of Guy that everyone knew about, the BNF ("Big Name Fan") whose existence had to be described via meme because it was SO DIFFERENT THAN THE NORM. treating fellow fans like celebrities or people too cool for the regular kids to know was an OUTLIER, and one commonly understood to lead to toxicity.

in the past, I have likened writing fanfiction to echolocation. i am not screaming because I like hearing the sound of my own voice, though i can and do find my voice beautiful. i am screaming so that the vibrations can bounce back to me and show me the world. the purpose is in the feedback. otherwise it is just noise.

does this make any sense? can you see, when i describe it that way, why an ask like yours makes me feel despair, because it makes us all sound so horribly separate from one another?

perhaps I will try another metaphor:

a professional chef who runs a restaurant will not have her feelings hurt if you never fight your way into the kitchen to personally tell her how much you enjoyed the meal. that would, indeed, violate a boundary. professional kitchens are a place of work, and you have already showed her you enjoyed the meal by paying for it, or by perhaps spreading your enjoyment by word of mouth to your friends so they, too, can have good meals. you show your appreciation by continuing to come back. if a bunch of people sitting around randomly happen to have a conversation about how much they love the food, it wouldn't hurt that chef's feelings to not be included in the conversation. however: EVEN IN THIS INSTANCE, it is ADVISABLE AND APPROPRIATE to leave a good review! you might post about how much you like this restaurant on Yelp, and it would probably make the chef feel great to see those positive comments. but the chef doesn't NEED them, because the chef is, again, *also being paid to cook.* that's why she started the restaurant, to be paid to cook!

i am not being paid to cook.

i am at home in my own kitchen, making things for a community potluck where i hope everyone will bring something we can all enjoy together. some people at the potluck are better bakers, some better cooks; some can't cook at all but are great at logistics and make sure there's enough napkins for everyone; some people come just to enjoy the food, because that's what the party is for. and if I, as this enthusiast chef who made something from my heart for this reason alone, learned after the fact that a bunch of people got together in the parking lot to rave about my dish but no one of them had ever bothered to tell me while I sat alone at my table all night, occasionally seeing people come by to pick up a plate but never saying anything to me -- of course that would bother me, because I am not otherwise profiting off the labor I put in. this is not a bid to be paid, because if someone WERE to say "hey, great cake!! here's five bucks for a slice" i would say no, friend, that is not the point and give them the money back. i'm not trying to Get Mine. I am in it to see the look on your face. I'm in it so you can tell me what about it moved you, so that I can say back what moved me to make it in the first place. so we can TALK about it.

because what happened in the first place is this: one time I had a cake whose sweetness, richness, flavor, intensity, and composition moved me so much that I *taught myself to bake.* so I could see how much vanilla and sugar was too much, so I could learn how to make things rise instead of fall flat, so I could even better appreciate the original cake by seeing for myself the effort and talent and inspiration that goes into making one even half as good.

learning to do so is a satisfying accomplishment in and of itself, yes.

but I also did it because at the end of the day we should EAT the cake. and it's a lonely thing, to eat alone when a meal was always designed and intended to be shared.

so, to answer your last question: i'm not surprised, i'm just sad. because somehow two things that were never meant to be seen as the same have been labeled "content," and thus identical. and it diminishes both the things that ARE intended to be paid for AND the things that are not, because it removes any sense of intimacy or meaning from the work.

i hope you know i'm not mad at you for asking. but i'm frustrated we've come to live in a world where the question needs to be asked, because the answers are no longer intuitively obvious because we're so siloed.

[emmyrosee]

Rintaro has no idea what’s coming to him.

So far, there’s been three videos about couples breaking up on your for-you-page, full of tears and heartbreak and anger as you scroll. You try not to linger on these videos for too long, lest they mess up your perfected algorithm, but for some reason, they always find their way back to you.

You don’t know how, or why he would… but you blame Rintaro.

With a huff, you throw your phone back onto the couch and stomp your way into the kitchen, where Rintaro doesn’t even spare you a glance. He merely takes a bite of his sandwich and continues to scroll on TikTok.

“Hey baby,” he says, mouth full of food. “What’s up-“

He’s cut off by you gripping his collar sharply, pulling it taught and pulling him with it. He whimpers and his eyes bug out of his skull, but he doesn’t say anything as you lean down to be face to face with him.

“Listen to me,” you snap, trying not to laugh at the way his puffed cheeks turn up to look at you. “We’re not breaking up.”

“…okay?” He whines a small laugh.

“Listen.” You pull his collar tighter, and he starts to giggle nervously, his cheeks growing bigger as he tries to swallow the bite of food in his mouth around your choking. “If you’re sick of me, take some medicine. If you’re bored of me, go play a video game. If you’re tired of me, take a nap. We’re not breaking up. Not now, not ever, do you understand me?”

He nods around his laughter, trying so hard to weasel free from your gripping of his collar. His hands paw at his plate for a chip to give you, in an attempt to satisfy you, but all you do is click your tongue.

“Do you love me?”

He can’t respond around his laughter.

“I said: DO YOU LOVE ME?!”

Finally, he’s able to nod and choke out a ‘yes,’ bringing the chip to your lips. “Okay,” you whisper menacingly, slowly releasing his collar and taking the chip from his fingers. “I love you too.”

“My throat hurts now,” he pouts.

“I’ll baby you once I’m done fixing my for-you-page,” you promise, kissing his head and leaving the kitchen, leaving him to process what just happened.

-

hehehehehehehe

[songbirdseung]

𝑰𝑵  𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑲𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑺  𝑨𝑵𝑫  𝑰𝑵  𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑳𝑻𝑯  /  𝑳𝑬𝑬  𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑮

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 

The first day of your period is always the worst. The cramps, the headaches, the mood swings, it’s like your body is actively conspiring against you. And today? Today is no exception.

You’re curled up in bed, swaddled in a blanket like a human burrito, aggressively scrolling through your phone as if the screen personally offended you. Every little thing annoys you: the brightness of your screen, the stupid algorithm feeding you videos you don’t want to see, the fact that even breathing feels like too much effort. Your stomach twists painfully, and you groan, tossing your phone aside dramatically.

The bedroom door creaks open.

"Babe?"

You don’t even look up. "What."

Heeseung pokes his head inside, cautiously scanning the room like he’s entering enemy territory. Which, to be fair, he kind of is. He’s a seasoned soldier in this war, though. He’s survived many battles before. he knows exactly what he’s up against.

"I brought snacks," he announces, stepping in and holding up a bag of your favorite chips in one hand and a bar of chocolate in the other, like some kind of peace offering.

You squint at him. "Do I look like I want snacks?"

He blinks, clearly thrown off. "Yes?"

Wrong answer.

"Heeseung, I’m literally dying, and you think snacks are the solution?" you huff, shifting onto your side and burying your face into your pillow. "I hate everything. I hate life. I hate you."

There’s a pause. "You don’t mean that," he says casually, plopping onto the bed beside you despite your apparent wrath.

You lift your head just enough to glare at him. "Try me."

Heeseung sighs but doesn’t argue. Instead, he gently places the snacks on your nightstand and reaches out to touch your arm. "Wanna punch me?"

You blink. "What?"

"You always say you wanna fight someone when you’re on your period," he says matter-of-factly, adjusting his position to face you better. "So go ahead. Get a free hit in."

You narrow your eyes at him, weighing your options. On one hand, smacking him sounds tempting. On the other, he’s the only source of warmth in this house, and you’re freezing despite being buried under layers of blankets.

You groan in frustration before flopping back onto your back. "No. You’re my personal heater. I need you alive."

Heeseung smirks, clearly pleased with your choice. Without another word, he slides under the blanket and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you against his chest. His body is warm, unfairly so and his familiar scent of fresh laundry and that faint cologne you love instantly soothes your nerves.

"Better?" he murmurs against your hair, his lips brushing your forehead.

You grumble something unintelligible, but the way you instinctively nuzzle into his chest answers his question for him.

Heeseung chuckles softly. "You’re so dramatic."

You lift your head just enough to glare at him again. "Say that again and see what happens."

He lifts his hands in surrender, but there’s a teasing smile on his lips. "Okay, okay. My bad. You’re not dramatic, you’re just… passionately expressive."

"That’s what I thought." You close your eyes, sighing as another wave of cramps hit you. "This sucks."

"I know, baby," he coos, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "You need anything? A heating pad? More snacks? My soul?"

"Your soul would be nice," you mumble sleepily. "But for now, just shut up and keep being warm."

Heeseung grins, tightening his hold on you. "Anything for you."

There’s a comfortable silence as he rubs gentle circles into your lower back, his warmth and presence easing some of your discomfort. You’re already half-asleep when he whispers, "Love you, even when you’re grumpy."

You hum, the corners of your lips twitching up slightly. "Love you too… but if you breathe too loud, I will smother you in your sleep."

Heeseung just laughs, pressing another kiss to your forehead.

He’s been through this before. He’ll survive.

[16wolke11]

Actual Girlfriend - Lando Norris

A/N Okay, okay you guys convinced me to post it! I am not hating on any the drivers girlfriends/friends/situationships or whatever, and this shot was written before the GP on Sunday, just updated slightly (:

WORDS: 2529 _____

I knew what I had signed up for when I started dating Lando Norris. Late-night calls due to different time zones, meeting in secret, and trying to stay out of the media's focus. He is a public figure and I am just about to graduate from university. Keeping our relationship private felt safe at first, romantic like in a novel, but the downside came around quicker than I thought it would. 

Monaco was the downfall. The weekend, I couldn’t even attend if I wanted to. My final exam was coming up in the following week, and as much as I wanted to be there for Lando, I needed to sit this race out. Lando was understanding, even encouraging me to stay home and ace my exams, but the distance hurt deep down in my chest. 

Lando made the effort to keep in touch with me. He texted me in the morning, between the sessions, and I tried to reply to him and keep things light, but it felt harder and harder with every short message or blurry picture he sent over. 

Good morning, Love. Quali is today. Wish me luck?

I smile softly at his message, him acting like I might forget how important today is and I can only think about that smile on his lips when he asks for some luck. 

Stay out of the barriers (:

It feels cold-hearted even to me, but I can’t bring myself to write anything else. My chest feels hollow, and I am unable to display the affection he deserves, but I hope all of this will fade when we are back together. 

By the time qualifying came around, social media was buzzing. Usually, I try to keep myself away from gossip pages, but some pictures draw me to them. There is Magui, laughing in the paddock with some friends, even spotted with Lando’s parents and my heart sinks. The pictures aren’t overly confirming, but they bring on even more speculations. Fans are picturing things with the crumbs they collected over the last months. 

Oh god, Magui is with McLaren!

They are so soft launching.

This is a hard launch for their standards. 

May I present to you Lando “Magui is just my friend” Norris.

Guess the rumours were true for once. 

Every comment feels like a knife being dragged over my heart. I know that it is just fan theories, Lando being the one loving me, but it still gnaws at me. This is what comes with dating someone famous: rumours and everything I should keep my distance from. But as much as I want to ignore it, every time I open any social media, it gets worse. 

The algorithm is laughing at me while showing me more pictures of Magui around the paddock. Being in the team hospitality, lingering around Lando’s crew and even more pictures with Cisca and Adam. I stare at the last picture for a whole minute before locking my phone, throwing it face down on my bed. 

I didn’t say anything to Lando, not wanting to seem jealous, insecure or clingy. But the ache is real, and it doesn’t fade during the day. It doesn’t fade when Lando gets pole, breaking the lap record in Monaco and even though a smile comes to my lips while seeing him celebrate, it doesn’t soothe anything. 

That night, my phone lights up, a FaceTime call from Lando and I answer it, managing to put half a smile on my face. 

“Hey there stranger.” Lando greets me, grinning widely, but his eyes are tired. Curls still damp from the shower, and it looks like he is ready to drop onto his bed and sleep until the race is about to start tomorrow. 

“Look at you, breaking records and snatching pole.” I tease him, feeling genuinely happy, no matter how much my heart aches. 

“You should be here.” Lando says, not accusing me of something, just simple honesty. “It's not the same without you.” He adds and it doesn’t help the aching feeling in my chest. 

“You have company.” I say, tilting my head slightly, trying to indicate his parents being around him all the time, but it comes out way too bitter. Lando’s smile drops and my stomach twists, knowing he can sense my discomfort through the phone. There is a pause, dreading and long enough to sting. 

“She is just around because of mutual friends and stuff. You still know that.” Lando speaks up quickly, before a sigh leaves his lips. “Right?” His eyes scan my face, like he is trying to figure out through the screen if I am serious or not. 

“Yeah.” I just hum and we look at each other for a moment. 

“I miss you.” Lando whispers and I hate it even more that I can’t be with him. That this dam exam has to be this week and not when there is no upcoming race weekend. But I worked so hard for this degree, and I will finish it. After that, I can go to more races, hopefully, being right by Lando’s side. 

“I miss you too.” I admit, I feel the urge to explain something to him. “It just feels so hard this weekend, Lando. Seeing and reading all of this. It makes me feel like a dirty secret.” I feel bad for my feelings and know I shouldn’t be, but the pressure on my shoulders does get less with telling Lando. 

“You’re not a secret.” Lando rubs the back of his neck. “You are mine and I like to keep you safe.” My heart flutters softly. Lando always had a protective side. When it comes to his family and when it comes to me. No harm through the media and the fans, especially after what happened with his previous girlfriend and every girl he just looked at for a little too long.

“Just…just do well tomorrow, okay?” I whisper, not wanting to keep this topic any longer. We will have to speak about it again, but not now. I don’t want to pull his attention away from his race and Lando’s face softened.

“For you? Always.” Then he grins softly, and everything feels like it's going to be okay. We hung up not long after, the screen going black again, drenching me in silence. 

I wake up early on race day, even though I don’t want to. Having way too much time now to cover before the race starts. Revising for my exam doesn’t help, wandering around in the apartment makes waiting even worse and even though I usually don’t even watch it, I put on the prerace coverage, hoping it will help me to be distracted. Celebrities walk over the grind, Monaco shining in all its glory and then the race is about to start. 

Part of me doesn’t even want to watch the race, but in the end, I didn’t move from the TV or shut it off. Curled up on the couch, cameras showing the grid for the last time, before the lights go out. Just in the first corner, I fear the race is over for Lando when he locks up, but manages to keep his car safe. My heartbeat is way too quick, but slowly the nerves die down. 

Monaco isn’t the most exciting race when it comes to overtakes, but every little mistake can cost the people on the grid everything. Lando drives around with ease and with every lap nearing the end, lets a proud feeling rise in my chest. He is going to nail it. 

The day would be great if it weren’t for two sentences from the TV commentators that stick with me. 

“And there is Lando Norris' girlfriend.”

“Lando Norris' parents and his partner.”

All the happiness that was building up falls apart when Magui is displayed on the screens and the commentators are calling her Lando’s girlfriend. It feels like betrayal and tears rise to my eyes. I don’t even want to cry, but it seems to be the only thing that soothes the ache in my chest. 

Lando wins the Monaco Grand Prix for the first time, and I cheer at the screen, softly, not as loudly as I usually would. I feel broken, but still full of pride, with a mixture of disbelief and joy. He did it. 

The camera follows him when he jumps out of the car, when he is hugged and kissed by his parents. Loving to see them so affectionate, but still, heart-aching about what happened. The podium ceremony went by like a blur and I can’t bring myself to turn off the TV, just staring at it, until my phone buzzes. 

It's Lando. 

Please watch the post-race interviews.

I sigh, eyes focusing back on the screen, making the sound a bit louder, when Lando appears on the screen, still grinning widely. Curls damp by sweat and champagne, but he bubbles with happiness. 

“Hi Lando, congrats on the race win here in Monaco.” Nathalie Pinkham starts, sounding like a proud mother while speaking to Lando. 

“Thank you, Natalie.”

Then they talk about the race, making me zone out, until I hear one particular question. 

“Is there anyone particular whom you would like to thank?” Lando pauses for a moment, eyes flickering to the side to his PR, before he starts to answer. 

“I want to thank so many people.” He laughs softly and starts his list. „My parents, I love you; they gave everything for me, and they are the reason I am where I am.” It's sweet to see Lando’s love for his parents, and not just because of the cameras, but also in private. 

“McLaren, my team and everyone believing in me.” Lando continues and then he hesitates, like he has to think about his next answer.

“Well, and of course, thank you to my love, who unfortunately couldn’t be here today, but supports me every second, no matter where she is.” My heart stops, before softly fluttering at his words. Without saying much, Lando just revealed that Magui is, in fact, not his girlfriend. I need to blink a few times, reminding me that this is reality. 

“She probably screamed at the TV for a bit today.” Lando laughs and I snort softly. Usually, I do scream at the TV for a bit, but it wasn’t so bad today. 

“Your girlfriend couldn’t attend today’s race?” Natalie asks after a short pause, like she had to sort her head, probably thinking the same as everyone else. Lando is taken, but not to whom everyone thinks he is. 

“No, she is busy with preparations for her final exam at university next week and being at the racetrack isn’t exactly the perfect environment for learning for something so important. So, we decided she will sit this one out to ace her exam.” Lando explains willingly and for the first time this weekend, I feel warm again. A few happy tears slip down my cheeks because now it feels like everything is going to be okay again. 

By now, my social media is flooded with pictures from Lando’s win. Him being hugged by his parents, cheering with the team, and celebrating with Oscar and Charles on the podium. It is like the grey clouds have been blown away by celebrations, showing the happy sun again. And I do come by one of the gossip pages again, slightly hesitating to click on the comments, but open them anyway. 

Lando is silencing all the rumours about Magui by dropping an even bigger bomb.

He seems to be so in love!

If I was his girlfriend, I would be so pissed at the TV commentators right now. 

A bit later, my phone buzzed again with an incoming call from Lando. and I take it without hesitating. 

“Hi.”

Lando’s face fills up the screen, eyes still sparkling with happiness, hair messy and him still in his race suit. I can hear the music nearby, cheery voices and people in the background. 

“Hey.” Lando says, voice tired in the best kind of way. 

“Hi.” I say again, quieter this time. “You did it.”

Lando just grins, “We did it”, making me frown. This is his big moment, his big win. 

“I didn’t do anything?”

“That's not true.” Lando’s gaze is soft on me and even though there are celebrations for him, his attention is fully on me. 

“You were the one driving 300km/h. You are the one who won Monaco.” I remind him that it was all his effort. Steering precisely around the track, not crashing, not losing his nerves. 

“And I was only able to do it because of you.” Lando hums, and just when I want to protest, he continues. “You think our late-night calls didn’t help me sleep? That your texts before quail don’t help to clear my head?” I doubt that I have that much of an effect on him, but if it makes him feel better, I believe him. 

“I watched everything, couldn’t move.” I admit how my eyes were drawn to the TV, not willing to let any bit slip by without my attention. 

“I felt you.” Lando promises, “I mean my engineer was yelling at me to stay focused, but it was your voice telling me not to crash over and over again.”

I laugh softly, remembering that I told him that before the qualification, “Sounds like something I would say.” Lando hesitates for a moment, eyes flickering around and I tilt my head to the side, waiting for him to speak up. 

“And I meant everything I said in that interview. Keeping you private was safe, but at this point, it hurt you more than it protected you.” I blink slowly, trying to keep the tears back this time, but one still rolls down my cheek. My heart, which has been aching the whole weekend, feels like it is being hugged by Lando’s words, making the harsh cuts heal bit by bit. 

“I love you.” I whisper with my whole heart and Lando’s smile gets just a bit brighter. 

“Says that again.” He mutters and I gladly follow. 

“I love you.”

Lando sighs, “Oh, I love you too.” We look at each other for a moment, both faces filled with adoration and happiness. 

“Are you going to get any sleep tonight?” I ask him, already doubting it. He won Monaco, many of the drivers live here and partying after Monaco is kind of mandatory. 

“Probably not, too many people want to drag me to a club.” Lando says, hand gesturing around and I can only imagine how many people want to party with him tonight.

“Are you going?” 

“Forcefully,” Lando grins, “But I show my face and then sneak away again, back to the hotel.” He explains, making me tilt my head to the side. 

“To do what?”

“Call you again, talk till the sun rises.” His soft voice, his words, the love in his eyes make all the pain go away. Cause in the in the in I am the one he loves with his whole heart. And just like that, the distance between us doesn’t feel so wide anymore. 

[woogilicious]

offline messages ꒰ yunho ꒱

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ pairing: streamer!yunho x gn!reader. ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ word count: 1039 words. ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ genre: angst + fluff. ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ warnings: mild angst, emotional neglect (unintentional), feelings of being left behind, fluff at the end.

You were there before the follower goals, and fancy mic setup. Back when Yunho streamed from a wobbly IKEA desk and his only viewers were you and that one random bot that kept posting shady links.

Back then, his face would light up when he saw your name in chat.

"Yo!" he'd grin, headset slightly tilted. "You're here!"

Of course you were. You always were.

You modded his streams before he even asked. Built his discord server from scratch. Stayed up past midnight helping him troubleshoot lag while playing Valorant. You even tolerated the scream fest during Lethal Company session with San, Mingi, and Wooyoung―all chaos, max volume, all the time.

And when things took off―when Twitch clipped him into the algorithm and the chat exploded with new fans, you celebrated with him. You were proud. You really were.

But you also started feeling... invisible.

It started small. A joke you made in chat went ignored. Then another. Then another.

You chalked it up, at first. That's what growing meant―more people, more chaos. But then he stopped replying to your DMs. Took hours to answer simple messages. And one day, you noticed your mod label was gone. No explanation. No "thanks for everything." Nothing at all.

You watched one of his streams that night, lurking, your name is grey in a sea of neon usernames. Someone made a crude joke. You called it out. Yunho didn't even notice, until a stranger timed you out.

That was the last stream you watched live.

You muted the server. Turned off notifications. Closed the tab. He never reaches out. Not once.

Months passed.

One night, you're scrolling through your phone, brain on autopilot, when you see his name. Yunho is live: Unpacking + chatting. You shouldn't care. You don't.

But you click.

He's streaming Unpacking, of all things. Soft music, quiet atmosphere, just him and the sound of cardboard boxes being emptied on screen. There's no Wooyoung yelling in the background, no San whining about being scared―just Yunho. Focused. A little tired. His laugh softer tonight.

You shouldn't message him.

But your fingers move anyway, finding his name in your message app.

Are you okay?

You send it. Regret it instantly. Consider deleting it, but then―

yunho: wait yunho: wait wait wait yunho: is this real?? yunho: y/n... i thought u blocked me or smth

You stare at the screen, looking at his stream while his attention turns to his phone.

you: figured you wouldn't notice either way yunho: ... yunho: okay. i deserve that. yunho: i miss you. a lot.

You don't reply right away, and you close the Twitch app.

The next day, he sends you a message privately in discord.

yunho: can we talk?

You call. It's weird, at first. The silence between you used to be comfortable, easy. Now it's cautious. Hesitant.

But he tries.

"I don't know when I started messing it up," he says, voice quiet. "I think... I just got caught up in everything. I didn't mean to shut you out."

You shrug, even though he can't see you. "You kind of did, though."

"I know. I just... didn't want you to feel like you had to carry my stuff forever. You helped me so much and I kept thinking, maybe you deserved to just... live your life. Not babysit my stream."

You snort. "You took away my mod role without saying a word. The least you can do is tell me."

He winces. "Yeah. That was stupid."

"You think?"

He laughs. It's small, and it is obvious that he is nervous.

"Let me fix it," he says. "Please."

It's not instant. It's not perfect.

But you start showing up again. Not as a mod, but just as his friend.

He messages you in the middle of the night about weird games you'd both like. Sends you dumb voices notes of Mingi farting on call. You hop into discord during late-night gaming, and he still screams in panic when he gets chased in scary games, but now, he screams your name too.

And one night, he messages:

yunho: do you want to do a stream together soon? you: what would we even play? yunho: idc. minecraft? stardew? anything. i just want to hang out with you on stream.

You agree, and the next night, it's Minecraft night.

The stream starts slow, chill lo-fi music playing in the background. Yunho decides to do a member only stream, which means the chat is smaller, cozier. The mods keep it clean. No chaos whatsoever.

"Special guest tonight, their name is Y/N" Yunho says, grinning. "My oldest friend. Like actual old. We've known each other since middle school."

You laugh. "You're few months older than me."

Chat, on the other hand, explodes with excitement:

xXxgamerraccoon12: brooo you can see yunho smiling like an idiot fluffyhorsie: their voice sounds so soothing!! i love them already!! bananapie481: we need more cozy game with y/n!!

You two fish, farm, fight monsters, collect materials. It's easy.

Halfway through the stream, you forget the camera's even on.

"You're different when it's just us," you say quietly.

Yunho hums. "Different how?"

"Less loud, less performative. More... you."

He doesn't say anything right away, just smiling while mining some woods for their house. Then, softly. "That's because you bring out the parts of me I actually like."

Your chest tightens.

"You know I was really scared," he adds. "That you'd never message me again. That I lost you for good."

You exhale. "You almost did."

"I know."

Silence.

Then, your character walks over and gifts his character a flower.

It's just pixels, but Yunho makes a sound that's a little too real.

"What?"

"What do you mean what? Maybe I just like giving you flowers."

His voice is barely a whisper. "God, I missed you so much."

The stream ends with your character standing next to his inside your finish small cozy wooden house.

Chat's spamming hearts. Fan edit already being posted. People are begging for another duo stream.

Once he turns off his stream, he says, "Don't log off yet."

You stay.

His voice is warm through your headset.

"Let's play another day?"

You smile. "Sure, Yunho. I'll be here."

This time, you know he believes it.

And this time, you do too.

[panictimesfour]

i find it funny how my social media platforms vary in content/people. like on tumblr i'm getting random stuff on my dash and barbenheimer content on my for you (and way too many people thirsting for cillian murphy...). instagram decided i'm a diehard league of legends player. my friends on discord are gamers who don't like to talk to me or step outside their rooms, and my friends on snap are nonexistent.

it's just funny. i don't really know why.