e.

i always see my youth in you

[medeae]

Richard Siken, Straw House, Straw Dog // Little Beast

[richardsikendaily]

[text ID: I don’t rally blame you for being dead but you can’t have your sweater back / I couldn’t get the boy to kill me but I wore his jacket for the longest time /end ID]

[ruhaniya]

I miss you in quiet ways—in skipped songs, in sunsets that don’t feel right, in jokes I can't tell anyone else.

[nuoqees]

this song is literally so sieun coded cause wdym watching the world from the sidelines, had nothing to prove till you came into my life, gave me something to lose....

[nuoqees]

my suho, i know that somewhere out there, in some corner of another universe, you know what it really means to be 17. maybe not every day will be happy, but not a single moment will be wasted. in that universe, you are not a boy who had to grow up early. the only thing that's the same in that universe is the starry-eyed boy who's always there for you. i guess there is no another life without him by your side. and i'm so glad for that. may the sunlight always illuminate the paths you follow in this life, and many to come.

[suhosieun]

it will always haunt me that suho, the bright boy who is the epitome of youth for me, could never fully live his own youth, that just when he started feeling like an ordinary high school student and having fun with his friends, that was taken away from him. maybe for the first time, he was just suho. not the breadwinner of his family, not a boy who had to take care of his grandmother, not a courier, mover or a waiter. he was just suho. someone's best friend, someone's first love.

this ask genuinely moved me, anon, because what makes suho’s tragedy even more devastating is that he wasn’t just sieun’s first friend. sieun was his first friend too, atleast in a long time. maybe suho had friends when he was younger, back when life hadn’t yet asked so much of him. but growing up fast means growing apart. while other kids were playing after school, suho was working. moving, delivering, waiting tables. taking care of his grandmother. holding the world together with bare hands and no safety net. when you’re always rushing between responsibilities, it’s hard to linger in hallways, to sit and eat lunch with someone, to build friendships that aren’t transactional.

so you're right. when sieun offered to buy him a meal as an apology, something cracked open. that small, quiet gesture led him into something bigger: friendship, belonging, love.

and then it was taken from him.

when suho wakes up, he’ll know things can’t go back to the way they were. his body might not be able to handle the jobs he once took pride in. he might not be able to run, to lift, to provide in the ways that once defined him. and for someone who’s spent so long defining his worth through what he can do for others, that will hurt. there’ll be guilt, deep and cruel. self-loathing, too, because he never learned to forgive himself for needing help.

but a small part of me wonders (hopes, even) that amid the pain, there’s a strange kind of stillness. that when people fuss over him, when someone brushes his hair back or tucks a blanket over him or sits at his side and tells him it’s okay to rest, he might feel something he never knew how to name: relief. because for once, he gets to be the one who’s taken care of. not forever. not in a way that erases his strength. but just long enough for him to feel safe. to be safe.

and maybe that’s wishful thinking. because what happened to suho was cruel, unjust, and it should never have happened. but if there is any mercy left in the world of this story, then i want him to find peace in this new, quieter life. not because he gave up who he was. but because he finally realized he doesn’t have to earn love by bleeding for it.

[nuoqees]

if class 2 is really the last season and we'll never see them again, i hope the sun will always rest gently on their shoulders. i hope they can forgive themselves, even though they've done nothing wrong, and stop only existing and start living the way they deserve without having to fight for it. i hope sieun always has his reasons to smile, and suho can breathe easy, free of the burden on his shoulders. let it be a sigh of relief in return for what they had to go through so young. may their trials ends in full bloom.

[nuoqees]

one of the things that saddens me the most about sieun and beomseok is that sieun will probably never remember him good. and i'm sure he'd give anything for remember him good. sieun truly loved and cared for him. he tried hard not to lose him. so the fact that the version of beomseok that sieun will remember forever is not the quiet, shy, innocent and lovely boy he first met, but the ruthless, cruel and brutal one will never leave sieun and me alone. and beomseok too. because he knows so well that if things had been different, if he actually stopped after they beat sieun, he would still try for him no matter what. this will always haunt him.

[nuoqees]

there is something so tragic about them and it can only be explained with bunch of mitski lyrics.

[nuoqees]

a relief so human he almost forgot how rare it is.

[nuoqees]

i will always mourn their wasted youths.

[suhosieun]

I always wondered what suho would have done if sieun were the one who fell into a coma :(

in my opinion, anon, if sieun ended up in a coma, suho wouldn’t fall apart the same way sieun did. he wouldn’t send desperate texts begging for him to wake, nor would he break down visiting with grief in his eyes. he wouldn't stop eating, he wouldn't lose sleep. no, suho’s way is different.

he’d show up every day like clockwork, sliding into sieun's hospital room with a kind of casualness that almost feels like denial. he’d drop his bag, pull up a chair, and start talking—about the cafeteria food, the ridiculous homework, some customer at his delivery job? things he used to talk to sieun about. things that kept the world tethered.

“you're still not talking to me? rude,” he’d say with a mock-annoyed voice, though no one’s there to hear it.

he’d fill the silence with his voice, like they were just hanging out; suho yapping, sieun quiet — their usual dynamic. like nothing’s broken. maybe he’d bring snacks, or games, or books sieun liked, but mostly, he’d just be present. no tears. no desperate pleas. just steady, stubborn presence.

because for suho, absence probably wouldn't be about waiting for a miracle. it’d be about holding the space where sieun used to be, refusing to let it vanish.

HOWEVER, the other side of suho? the side that wants revenge? what would he do? he wouldn’t lose control like sieun did. there’d be no blood trails, no shattered windows, no violent echoes through the halls. no screams, no raging outbursts, no expulsion letters from school. because suho doesn’t erupt like sieun.

think about the last time sieun got hurt? suho didn’t rage. he didn’t scream or flip desks or smash a dumbbell on a foot or stab pens into arms. he gathered names like pieces on a chessboard, lining them up on a rooftop like a teacher calling roll. then he broke them — one by one — methodically, like ticking off errands. when it was done, he took a photo. less of a threat, more of a proof. and sent it to beomseok with one cold line: answer the phone or i’ll kill your friends.

he learned that youngbin hurt sieun’s hand, so suho found him, pinned him down, and crushed his fingers underfoot—not with anger, not with haste, but with a casual quietness, like putting out a cigarette. like procedure.

so if sieun were taken from him — if sieun were lying in a hospital bed, unconscious and unreachable — suho wouldn’t collapse. he’d organize.

a car sliding off a road in the rain. a bottle of pills emptied too suddenly. a missing poster curled at the corners, fluttering on a telephone pole. there would be no pattern. no evidence. just absence. and suho would still be at school—on time, composed, making eye contact in the hallway. like everything's normal.

because this wouldn’t be revenge. it would be removal.

sieun fights like something cornered: raw, furious, desperate to be seen. suho cuts like frostbite. he's silent and precise. by the time you notice, it’s already done.

suho would always say "let's not cross the line," but he would, for sieun. and the most insane part is that suho wouldn’t even think he crossed a line. he’d believe there was no line left to cross.

because sieun was the line.

without him, there’s only silence. and a ledger of names waiting to be crossed out.

[jaspoo]

«The difference between Suho and Baku? Baku fought to protect the entire school. But Suho? Suho fought for Si-eun. Every moment, every battle—it was always for him.»

-director.

And maybe that’s why for Baku the whole school came but for Sieun it was only Suho.

[suhosieun]

i love sieun so much as a main character because he tries so hard not to be one.

in the beginning of the season, all he wanted was to sit quietly in the background, exist in peace, and yearn for suho without the world clawing at him. but he’s a gravitational force. he doesn’t seek the world, the world seeks him. the good, the bad, all of it. and even though he never seeks human connection, insists that he doesn’t need friends, he loves having them. he loves loving them.

he’s not loud about it, he doesn’t know how to be, but his loyalty is violent, bone-deep, unwavering. he’ll fight for his friends, kill for them, stand up to their dads without blinking. he’ll set himself on fire to keep them warm.

and the most tragic part? he could’ve stayed invisible. he could've stayed out of it all. the bad guys didn’t even want him, they wanted baku. but sieun’s heart won't let him walk away. his instinct to protect always wins. always. something he learnt from suho.

he shows up (all four feet of him); no real fighting skills, no actual strength, just this terrifying cocktail of rage, stubbornness, desperation, and whatever object he can get his hands on to stab someone with.

but beneath all of that, he’s just a kid. a scared, tired, broken kid. he flinched when seongje first cornered him in the bathroom. he cried when his friends told him it wasn’t his fault. he carries the kind of guilt that rots you from the inside out, and he’s still trying to make sense of it. still trying to believe he deserves good things.

he’s just a teenage boy who’s been handed too much pain too early and still, still, he chooses to love.

[nuoqees]

im gonna kms

[suhosieun]

i don't think we're ready to talk about the reality of suho's life after waking up

i know we’re all overjoyed to have suho back, but i don’t think we’ve talked enough about the trauma and maladjustment he’s going to face post-coma. like—this boy hasn’t used his body in two years. his legs are going to feel foreign. his balance, stamina, even the act of walking up stairs, it’s all going to overwhelm him. he’ll get frustrated trying to open a jar, drop something, and just break down. and what’s worse is the emotional weight that comes with it.

everyone around him has moved forward. sieun has new friends. they’re seniors now, talking about college, about leaving. and suho? he’s stuck two grades behind. that would mess with him. he’d feel left behind, lost. he’ll get jealous of the bond sieun shares with the others, even if he doesn’t want to be. he’ll cling to sieun like a lifeline, terrified when he’s not around, throwing a tantrum after finding an acceptance letter for sieun from a foreign university.

he'd flinch at loud noises & get triggered when fights break out. he'll snap at his grandma for fussing over him, then immediately crumble with guilt, because it used to be him taking care of her, not the other way around. he used to be strong, cheerful, the protector, and now he feels like a burden. and worst of all, he hates himself for it. hates that sieun, who once relied on him, now has to see him like this—a shell of who he used to be.

and sieun? he’d be shattered. watching his guardian angel struggle, the person who once pulled him out of the darkness now drowning in his own. but he’d stay. he’d hold suho through the breakdowns, reassure him through the jealousy, quietly adjust to the mood swings, and never make him feel like too much, even when it is. because sieun loves him too much.

[jaspoo]

«The difference between Suho and Baku? Baku fought to protect the entire school. But Suho? Suho fought for Si-eun. Every moment, every battle—it was always for him.»

-director.

And maybe that’s why for Baku the whole school came but for Sieun it was only Suho.