#fully Tweaking on caffeine

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

Y’all ever had a panic attack so bad that you pass out in front of the manager at your new day job and also a full line of customers?

Yeah so I have a Tweek oneshot idea now

[sitkowski]

a headfirst kind of love ( nicholas ruffilo x jolly karlsson )

pairing: nicholas ruffilo x jolly karlsson cw: handjobs, other than that nothing but soft stuff within. word count: 1.1k author's note: a soft little thing in the same vein of flicker, fade and sink into me. title comes from "all the way" by taking back sunday. divider by @saradika-graphics ✨

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups

Nick wakes up alone and cold. Squinting at the gray light coming through the windows, he sits up, wrapping the duvet around his bare shoulders and shuffling from the bedroom. The house is quiet enough that he can hear the sound of the late autumn winds blowing through the trees, a hollow whistling that makes him wrap the blanket around himself more tightly.

The day is gloomy at best, and if Jolly had still been in bed with him, he wouldn��t have bothered to even get up. But instead, he’s searching for his missing boyfriend. In the hallway, he squints at the thermostat, tweaking it a little bit. It’s early December and the cold snap has finally kicked in. Nick makes his way down the hall into their living room just as Jolly’s coming in through the front door, bringing a cold gust of air with him. His smile is bright when he sees Nick standing there.

“You’re up.”

Nick walks around the sofa, dropping himself down and burrowing himself into the blankets further. “You were gone.”

“I went to get some more coffee, we were out,” Jolly deposits the bag on the kitchen counter and then comes over, insinuating himself into Nick’s space. “Hmm, you’re still warm.”

“And you’re cold, don’t you dare!”

Nick tries to squirm away as Jolly opens the blankets and presses his cold hands to the bare skin beneath his shirt. He hisses out a curse, trying not to laugh at the pout Jolly gives him because he’s trying to get away. Heaving a mock put upon sigh, Nick wraps the blanket around the both of them, enduring the icy fingers that drag up and down his sides. Eventually, Jolly’s hands start to return to a temperature that doesn’t make him want to flinch away.

“Better?” Jolly asks finally and Nick nods, unable to keep the smile off his face as he rubs his nose against his cheek. “You wanna go back to bed or just stay here?”

They don’t have anywhere to be. Touring’s done for the year, and other than the familial holiday obligations, they get to be as lazy as they want. If that means that they stay cocooned on this sofa for hours, binging on Yellowjackets and takeout for lunch, then that’s what they’re gonna do.

Eventually, Nick can tell that Jolly’s getting twitchy; too much caffeine, too much downtime, even if the show has his attention it doesn't seem to be enough. And then he turns his head, hose brushing along the edge of Nick’s jaw. His fingers have been tracing over the design on the front of his shirt, but now he tightens his hold on the fabric, pulling it up slowly.

“What are you up to?”

Jolly hums, tiptoeing his fingers down to the waistband of Nick’s sweatpants. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Nick’s responding laugh fades on a moan as Jolly’s hand dips beneath and wraps around his cock. His eyes threaten to close in pleasure and his head tips back. The air beneath the blanket is stifling in a comfortable way, and his hand smacks on the remote, pausing the show so that Jolly’s got his full attention.

“Gonna let me take care of you, sugar?” Jolly’s voice is quiet in his ear, his hand moving at a slow pace that makes Nick’s eyes roll back. “Ah, no. Why don’t you look at me? I wanna see that look in your eyes when I take you apart.”

“Oh fuck you.” Nick mutters with another laughing moan, hips twitching up relentlessly.

Jolly doesn’t try to stop him. If anything, he keeps his hand still, letting Nick fuck up into his fist. Nick lets out a gasping breath, finally giving up and shoving the blanket off of them as much as he can. He tries to look away again, and Jolly’s free hand grabs onto his jaw gently, turning his head to face him fully.

“There’s that look. You close, Nicky?”

All Nick can do is nod, hands clenched tightly on the blankets as he lets Jolly work him over, bringing him over the edge quick enough that his head spins. He used to be embarrassed that he could get off that fast like he was still a teenager, but it seemed to be a personal point of pride for Jolly that he could do it.

He slumps back into the cushions, trying to get air back into his lungs again. Somehow, he has the brain cells left to fix his clothes. Jolly leans in to kiss him, finally, and Nick kisses him back, twisting around so that he can crawl over him. He straddles his waist and pulls at the waistband of his pants impatiently. Jolly does nothing to help, other than leaning back into the sofa and giving Nick all the room he needs.

“Your turn to come for me in five seconds, sugar,” Nick says against his mouth as he finally manages to get Jolly’s pants and boxers out of the way.

Maybe it drives him a little insane that he can get so desperate for Jolly to touch him, and Jolly can lay there all casual like he’s not affected at all. Only that’s not completely true, because his cock is hard and leaking in Nick’s hand, and he can feel how tense Jolly is beneath him, trying to keep himself still.

“Well?” Jolly asks, enough of a high in his voice that Nick can see that resolve cracking. He’s proud of himself for that. “You gonna put your money where your mouth is? Or should I say your hand?”

“You are the worst, I love you so fucking much,” Nick mutters, leaning down to kiss him.

He gives him a few slow strokes, the angle off but still apparently working for Jolly judging by the noises he’s letting out against Nick’s mouth. He gives him a triumphant smile, pressing his forehead into his, moving his hand faster.

“Five seconds have passed,” Jolly points out, his voice hitching.

Nick kisses him again before he can say something else ridiculous, and he wraps a hand around the side of Jolly’s neck, rubbing his thumb over his pulse point. Nick strokes him more insistently and Jolly grabs onto him, sliding his hands into his hair and moaning into his mouth. Nick's weight on his legs keep him from moving much. He whines quietly against Nick's tongue, spilling over Nick's hand after what feels like forever even through it's only been minutes.

“We’re gonna have to wash the blanket now.” he says mournfully.

Jolly gives him a shrug, flipping the blanket over to the clean side and wrapping it back around the both of them. He pulls Nick down onto the sofa with him, his back to Jolly’s chest, and resumes the show. They spend the rest of the day lazing around, and Nick can’t think of anything more perfect than this.

⇉ taglist

@ladyveronikawrites @circle-with-me @deathblacksmoke @dominuslunae

@rumoured-whispers @cookiesupplier @kinseysucks @collapsedglasshouses

@thatchickwiththecamera @th4t-em0-k1d @blackveilomens @illmakeyousaywow

@malice-ov-mercy @itsjustforce @darksigns-exe @baddestomens

@collidewiththesavannah @sorrowsofsilence @fadingangelwisp

if you ’d like to be added to the taglist, you can find the form at the top of this fic! thanks for reading/reblogging 🩷

[hoosurdaddy]

Chapter 10.

Pairing: post covid! Stan Marsh x post covid! Reader, post covid! Kenny McCormick x post covid! reader.

Triggers: 18+, cheating, smut,gaslighting. Reader is married to Stan, bad grammar, short.

Finished at last! Thanks to everyone who read and supported:)

--

"I can't believe you're pregnant!" Heidi squealed along with Nicole who giggled into her wine glass while Heidi rubbed your belly. Stan was catching up with his other friends. It had been four years since you left South Park to Wyoming. It was the best decision you had made. It was the right decision. And you were now 6 months pregnant.

"You leave for four years and you come back pregnant, what?" Heidi continued to admire your round belly, while you and Nicole giggled.

"What can I say?" You shrugged, grinning at their comments.

Nicole looked down at your feet, gasping. "Are they the new Gucci python print high heel pump?"

You showed off the heels, although your back was killing you Stan was so excited for you to show them off, and it would kill you to see him upset. "Surprise."

"I don't know how you're wearing them right now, being pregnant and all." Nicole continued to admire your shoes. From the corner of your eye, you admired Stan laughing and joking with his friends. It took a bit of groveling for your friend group to forgive your actions, especially Kyle (who never fully forgave you but tolerated you). But overall, was excited for God daughter. And Stan was so excited to be a dad.

You swore you could of seen a blonde hair man somewhere in the middle, but you shook your head. It wasn't.

"So." Heidi spoke as she drew your attention back to them. "Can we please see the nursery!!"

With a smile, you nodded as you reached for your bag to show the girls your Winnie the Pooh themed nursery for your daughter.

--

"Sweetie, are you sure?"

Stan asked in a nervous voice when you told him you wanted to go into town to grab some cute baby growths. You knew Stan had trust issues, especially being back in South Park triggered these feelings, so all you could do was reassure him.

Cupping his cheeks, you planted a kiss onto his lips. "You have my location, I will text you every half an hour. I promise, I will be in Bella Baby's for an hour max. If not, you can come find me, okay?"

Stan sighed, planting a kiss onto your palm before nodding as he walked over to the car. "Okay, don't be too long." He whispered as he hopped into the car, he waved goodbye to you. Despite it being raining, you moved slowly through the street of South Park, remembering the good old days.

As you walked, you hadn't been paying attention to your surroundings when you bumped into someone while in your day dream. "Sorr-"

Everything seemed to freeze, you were now were staring into the eyes that once held so much for you. Your best and worst mistake. The person you had been able to avoid for four years. Kenny McComick.

"Hey." He whispered.

--

"What are you doing?" You asked Kenny as you held your cup of water. You were sitting in Tweak's bro. Kenny had gotten a coffee, and with you being pregnant, couldn't drink caffeine. But caffeine was the least of your worries, you were betraying your husband once again. All the years of therapy gone out the window, but had to hear Kenny out.

"I heard about your.. pregnancy. Congratulations." You gave Kenny a tight lipped smile at his congratulations. He couldn't help but stare. You were glowing. You somehow looked better than what Kenny could recall from the last four years, expect you were pregnant with a baby that wasn't his.

"And Stan? He's taking care of you and the baby well?" You rested your hand against your palm, nodding. Kenny wanted to reach over and hug you and never let you go, but stopped when you reached down to place your cup on the table.

"Why are you really here?"

"I just missed you."

The rain was letting up by all means, it was actually getting heavier. You were sat here with your ex lover, while anyone from South Park could notice you and tell Stan. You couldn't risk that just cause Kenny 'missed' you.

"I don't think you made the right decision by leaving South Park.. I think you were just thinking what was morally right, not what you really wanted." Kenny started off, having your heart weaken.

"My decision and what I chose to do is none of your concern, Kenny. I made my choice, and because of my choice, I am having a daughter with a wonderful, forgiving man." You snapped, shocking Kenny who was not expecting your reply. You quickly grabbed your handbag, managing to push yourself off the chair with a little more force because of your belly.

"This was a mistake." You snapped, storming out of the cafe. Kenny cringed at the words, he hated them when your first said them, he hates them even more now. He quickly chased after you, managing to grab your arm before you went too far.

"Y/N, I'm sorry. Please listen to me, and I promise I'll leave you alone forever." You sighed, crossing your arms. You nodded.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for everything. I've been in love with you since I was 14, I wanted to be with you so badly.. But I could barely look after Karen, I figured I would of been nothing in my future. That I wouldn't be able to provide for you. But by the time I could, you married Stan.. And I took you for my own selfish reasons.."

You stared at Kenny's vulnerable face as he spoke. You wanted to cry for him. "I mean we could of been eating pop tarts for dinner, living in a two bed room apartment with three kids. I had no idea that I wouldn't be poor forever. I wanted to be able to provide for you, that I lost you to Stan somewhere in the middle."

"Kenny." You rubbed his cheek. "I've loved you since I was 14, the only difference was I was too chicken shit to say anything.. I wouldn't of minded eating pop tarts for dinner, as long as I had you, I wouldn't of cared."

Kenny leaned into your palm, much like Stan did earlier. He was staring at you with those beautiful eyes.

"I love you so much."

Once again, you were back in arms with each other. Kenny pressed his lips down to yours. People on the street on South Park walked by without a care in the world. Just young lovers, embracing each other. The rain was dripping down your clothes, soaking into your skin.

Kenny wanted to hug you, hold you, kiss you. He wanted to be yours so badly.. But he wasn't.

he couldn't.

he can't.

"s..sorry."

You shook your head, sniffling. "It's okay, don't worry."

You felt your eyes starting to water once again, but pushed it down encase Stan was lurking around. You never intended to have an affair, let alone intend to re-rash old feelings. An old affair.

"I.. should go.. You know, Stan."

Kenny nodded, feeling his hands slipping away from yours. Before you left, Kenny called your name once more. You turned back around to see Kenny wearing that stupid grin.

"In another life, right?" Kenny called out. "I'm happy.. I'm sorry that our time was never right."

"Don't be sorry.. I'm not sorry. It was worth everything we went through.” You smiled back. "In another life.”

You watched as the crowd engulfed the blonde until he was out of sight. You turned and walked, listening to the sound of traffic, and the sound of rain on the ground. Eventually, Stan came and collected you.

You stared at the scenery of South Park as you recalled vivid memories of your star-crossed lover. A tear ran down your cheek as you pictured his crooked smile and blonde hair.

This time, You smiled.

Fini.

[masterwords]

Hello, do you mind if I ask for a lot at once for the OTPs one? They're just too good to resist 💙

(20) Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship.

(22) What reminds each of their partner?

(42) What's their favorite type of weather to enjoy together? (getting snowed in together, watching thunderstorms, etc.)

(51) What’s a non verbal way they say I love you?

(48) Who's the better driver? - I feel like having to preface this by saying I mean it ordinarily and not when they're after unsubs probably means it's not Hotch, but...

Also #59 made me lol given the many many conversations had about that particular question and Hotchgan already

Do I mind the chance to go fully feral about them? No, sir, I do not mind at all. <3

20. Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship.

Oh...oh no. There are so many! ONE SONG?! Okay I'm gonna do two, because there is one that screams them on-screen, and one that screams them in my head. And so you get two.

On screen, I always think about "Trust" by The Cure.

There's no-one left in the world That I can hold onto There is really no-one left at all There is only you And if you leave me now You leave all that we were Undone There is really no-one left You are the only one And still the hardest part for you To put your trust in me I love you more than I can say Why won't you just believe?

And then the Them in my head, their theme song is "Restless Heart" by Peter Cetera. For all the reasons.

22. What reminds each of their partner?

Well, first of all they are both sentimental fools. That's a fact. Sunrises and coffee breath, the sensations of an early morning run. Gunpowder and shredded paper at the firing range. Popcorn and icy condensation pooling on a sticky bar table. The smell of hotel shampoo and dusty air conditioning and the echo of walking down a new yet always the same carpeted hallway every day/week/month. I think they travel so often together that anything has potential to be a reminder - when you do so much life with a person, they are woven into every aspect of it.

42. What's their favorite type of weather to enjoy together? (getting snowed in together, watching thunderstorms, etc.)

I'm going to speak to their older years, when the adrenaline junkies settle down a little and learn how to enjoy moments. LOL While I do think they can find a way to enjoy almost anything together, I think a heat wave has to be it for them. Grilling in the backyard, gardening, drinking iced tea by the gallon. Derek can walk around naked if he's so inclined (and there isn't anyone around to see), Hotch can nap in the hammock, and life is good. But a good snowstorm in Chicago, the kind where you have to dig yourself out of your doorway just to go get your mail, the kind where you drag your kid's sled behind you down to the corner store to haul your groceries home because no one can drive...is a nice way of forcing them to settle down a bit. To just sit quietly in their snow-insulated home, curled up beneath blankets and watching movies or reading books, cooking and sleeping.

51. What’s a non verbal way they say I love you?

Oh you know I'm a sucker for this one. So much of what they do is nonverbal. The things these two can say to one another with just a look. Derek learns how to make coffee the way Hotch likes it, he learns the exact measurements because he might not care that much (coffee is coffee), Hotch does. He would never turn his nose up at caffeine, even terrible police station slop, but there are just certain things that he enjoys and it's a pretty small sacrifice to pull out the measuring spoons in order to see that look of bliss when it's exactly right. And Hotch, touch-starved king, loves to rub Derek's shoulders. And back and feet and whatever else he's tweaked by running full speed into danger.

48. Who's the better driver?

Uh...sorry Hotch. Just because you do most of the driving thanks to your need to control (or your intense car sickness) doesn't mean you're the better driver, it just means you're the boss. LOL I do imagine Derek is actually a pretty good driver. He learned to drive in the congested streets of Chicago, he worked as a cop which meant a lot of driving time, he rides a motorcycle, I bet he's got some very good driving music intuition...I just think he's probably got a very good sense of direction (hello vibing it) and he's comfortable behind the wheel. When boiled down, I just don't think Hotch likes to drive as much as Derek does, like the simple act of driving doesn't bring him pleasure like it does Derek, he simply needs to. And therein lies the difference to me.

AHAHAHAA. Oh...59. That's a hard no from me, dawg.

want me to talk about hotchgan? i will...at length...and hey, if you don't vibe with those questions, ask some of your own. i'll talk about them all day.

[jadevalentine-writes]

WIP Wednesday - Living in Sin - Chapter 7 Teaser

Tagging a few folks who may be interested: @subtlybrilliant @prommethium

After spending over six-thousand years with humanity, an immortal being could be expected to pick up a few favorite mortal activities along the way. 

For Crowley, it was sleeping, drinking, and driving (though never the last two at the same time - but Hell got all of the credit for the deadly combination). For Aziraphale, it was eating, reading, listening to music on vinyl, and going to a barbershop when he could just as easily force his hair to stop growing. 

Crowley also loved showering. It was an ingenious invention, one he wished he could have taken credit for, but the simulation of standing in the rain was so painfully human he could not in good conscience claim the idea as his own. It was bad enough Hell had tampered with the invention by creating low-water pressure and the scalding consequences of flushing a toilet while in use after Crowley had praised the invention. 

Crowley had missed the large bathroom in his flat though not nearly as much as sleeping in a bed. It took him a full week of living above the bookshop before he remembered the flat even had a bathroom, hidden away as it was behind a closed door. One morning after pastries and caffeine, Crowley retreated upstairs to investigate.

The closed door made him nervous. Aziraphale had no use for a bathroom and Crowley feared what horrors would lay beyond. He grimaced as he pushed the door open gently but relaxed when the worst he was met with was a thick layer of dust and a long outdated style. 

The large clawfoot tub he would keep, as he learned long ago that they were the only modern tub that could hold his lanky corporation. The only thing it needed was to be outfitted with a shower. Everything else would just need to be tweaked to his liking. 

One solid snap and a century’s worth of dust dissolved. Cracked tile was replaced with smooth grey stone and peeled wallpaper was replaced with walls of green. A large copper shower head manifested over the center of the tub along with a full ringed curtain in black. The garish vanity lights dimmed to the warm glow of Edison bulbs. 

Crowley sighed and shut the door. Dark and warm, like a garden he used to know. A perfect place to unwind, sometimes literally. 

After purging the pipes of rust, Crowley set the temperature to just south of searing, stripped, and stepped inside. He let out a hiss of pleasure as the hot water cascaded down his back. He groaned as he dipped his head under the spray. As he rotated in and out of the spray, the only thing he missed was cold tile walls to lean against. He quite loved the temperature contrast in his old bathroom, but homeless demons could not be too particular.

Crowley stayed under the spray until the water started to cool. He could miracle the water hot for an eternity, but knew Aziraphale would not take kindly to the large bill. Reluctantly, he turned it off. He pulled back the curtain and miracled a fluffy black towel to dry himself off. 

Crowley felt brand new, like he had just shed his skin after a couple of millenia. After hanging up the towel, he stretched in the lingering steam of the bathroom and sighed. A good night’s sleep, six shots of espresso coursing through his veins, and a boiling shower. He felt like he could perform a world-wide humanity-saving miracle and not even flinch. 

Crowley sighed contentedly as he opened the bathroom door, the cool air of the flat hitting his still bare corporation. He always walked across his flat naked, from bathroom to bedroom. There was nothing worse than trying to shimmy into skinny jeans while being damp and the extra steps from one room to the other helped him dry fully. He didn’t think anything of it, because his flatmates were only ever plants, and they never so much as cocked a leaf in his direction when he was nude.

Of course, he did not consider that he now had a living, very angelic flatmate now.

[raptorix]

First tried coffee in middle school when parents got some chocolate coffee creamer. Basically made warm chocolate milk w/ some coffee added in my first attempts, but gradually grew to like the flavor. A weekend treat until Starbucks showed up in my late High School years.

In College, discovered Iced Coffee when Starbucks first attempts at selling it in cans. Then actually tried freshly prepared iced coffee, and with some tweaks that became my go-to drink. (I'm not fond of burning my tongue on hot beverages.)

In the last decade when cold brew became all the rage, I experimented with making my own at home at first (steeping grounds in a French Press overnight is super easy!) Then Cold Brew became more mainstream. Now because of my tolerance of lightly creamed Cold Brew, I am capable of drinking most office-brewed coffees black (also a few hours cold after originally brewed in the carafes.)

I have a decent tolerance of caffeine, and I use it as a self-medication for ADHD. However I am fully capable of drinking a cold brew & taking a quick nap while I wait for the caffeine to hit my system. XD

People who drink coffee: why did you start?

I don't drink coffee and I've never wanted to, but that's obviously ~not normal~, so I'm curious why most people do start drinking it.

[starseedfxofficial]

Hidden Day Trading Formula: Master Adaptive Algorithms The Hidden Formula Behind Day Trading Success: Adaptive Algorithms Unveiled Day trading is like playing chess against a hyperactive opponent who changes the rules every five minutes. Blink, and the board resets. But what if I told you there’s a secret weapon—an invisible ally—that adapts in real time, reading the market like a seasoned detective reads a crime scene? Enter adaptive algorithms, the unsung heroes of modern trading. Before you imagine robots plotting world domination (or worse, messing up your trades), let’s clarify: these algorithms are tools—next-gen tools—designed to enhance your ability to predict market moves with jaw-dropping precision. Ready to outsmart the market and leave rookie mistakes in the dust? Let’s dive in. Why Most Traders Get It Wrong (And What Adaptive Algorithms Fix) Ever place a trade, only to watch the market swing the other way faster than a cat avoiding bath time? Don’t worry, you’re not alone. Most traders lose because they rely on static strategies in a dynamic market. Markets are living, breathing beasts, and adaptive algorithms adjust to changes in: - Volatility - Liquidity - Market Sentiment Static strategy trap: You set up a 50-day moving average crossover to signal trades. Great. Until volatility spikes, and your precious signal becomes as reliable as a weatherman in hurricane season. Adaptive algorithms fix this by: - Analyzing real-time data to adjust trading parameters on the fly. - Predicting shifts in market dynamics before they happen. - Filtering out false signals, so you don’t chase phantom opportunities. Here’s a bite-sized truth bomb: If you’re using fixed settings in a fluctuating market, you’re basically day trading blindfolded. The Forgotten Strategy That Outsmarted the Pros Let’s look at something legendary traders are whispering about: adaptive volatility filters. These are algorithmic filters that automatically tweak your risk exposure based on real-time market volatility. Example in Action: - Imagine two scenarios: The market is calm, like a lazy Sunday afternoon. Adaptive filters let you trade more aggressively. - Suddenly, news drops (say, a shocking NFP report), and the market becomes a caffeinated rollercoaster. The algorithm tightens your position sizes to avoid catastrophe. Why it matters: - Instead of “risking big or going home,” your trading becomes balanced and strategic. - Adaptive volatility strategies keep you alive during turbulent markets when most traders blow their accounts. Takeaway: In Forex, survival isn’t about predicting moves; it’s about adapting faster than your competition. How Adaptive Algorithms Predict Market Moves with Precision Let’s geek out for a minute. Adaptive algorithms aren’t magic; they’re math. Here are two key techniques they use: - Machine Learning and Pattern Recognition Algorithms process thousands of historical data points to find patterns invisible to the human eye. For example: - When EUR/USD moves in tandem with gold prices, it might signal an upcoming breakout. - Algorithms adapt these relationships in real time, detecting anomalies faster than humans. - Sentiment Analysis These tools analyze market sentiment from news, tweets, and economic indicators. Picture this: - A flurry of negativity on the eurozone hits Twitter. Adaptive algorithms instantly adjust to anticipate a bearish EUR/USD move. What this means for you: Adaptive systems allow you to trade smarter by basing decisions on actionable insights, not emotions. The Game-Changing Secret: Combining Adaptive Algorithms with Human Intuition Here’s a twist: The best traders don’t fully rely on algorithms—they partner with them. Think of algorithms as the Iron Man suit to your Tony Stark. You bring intuition and adaptability; the algorithm brings data-driven precision. How to Combine the Two: - Let the algorithm handle signal generation: Don’t overthink it; the data doesn’t lie. - Add human judgment for entry/exit timing: Use your trader’s gut to fine-tune decisions. - Constantly monitor adaptive performance: Sometimes markets shift so dramatically that recalibration is necessary. Ninja Tactic: Use a smart trading tool like StarseedFX’s Smart Trading Tool to automate lot sizes, reduce risk, and stay adaptive without breaking a sweat. Case Study: How Adaptive Algorithms Saved Traders During Black Swan Events Let’s time travel to March 2020, when global markets crashed like poorly written movie sequels. Traders relying on static systems were obliterated. But those using adaptive algorithms? What happened: - Algorithms detected abnormal volatility in currency pairs (EUR/USD, GBP/USD) early. - Adaptive filters reduced risk exposure, preserving capital. - Machine learning models identified opportunities as the market stabilized. Result: Traders who embraced adaptive systems avoided heavy losses and positioned themselves for recovery trades. Lesson: Adaptive algorithms don’t just make money—they protect you from financial devastation. Insider Tactics for Integrating Adaptive Algorithms into Your Trading Ready to get tactical? Here are three actionable steps to incorporate adaptive algorithms: - Start with Free Tools: Test drive adaptive trading strategies using free resources like StarseedFX’s Free Trading Journal to track algorithmic performance. - Join Expert Communities: Learn from algorithmic traders in real time by joining StarseedFX’s Community for elite insights and strategies. - Optimize Your Trading Plan: Build a framework that aligns adaptive systems with your personal trading goals. Use a Free Trading Plan to structure and refine your strategy. Adapt or Get Left Behind In Forex day trading, adaptability isn’t optional—it’s survival. Static strategies belong in history books alongside dial-up internet and flip phones. Adaptive algorithms are the next frontier, offering precision, efficiency, and resilience in chaotic markets. Embrace the future: leverage adaptive algorithms, enhance your intuition, and master the art of trading in a dynamic world. If you’re ready to take the leap, check out StarseedFX’s tools and resources to make the invisible visible. —————– Image Credits: Cover image at the top is AI-generated Read the full article

[thebarefootcajun]

ONE

Allen sat on the edge of the bed with his elbow on his knee and his hand supporting his head. On the other side of the bed was a stranger still asleep in his double bed. Trying to recollect what had happened as he reviewed last night’s events.

“I need coffee,” he said, as he gingerly stood trying to maintain balance.

It was certainly a hangover headache he was feeling as this drum beat inside his head feeling hollow as the drum beat on rattling his skull.

He filled a kettle to boil water to make a drip coffee. Today he would double the strength of the coffee to aid him in regaining his memory of last night.

Allen always loved the ritual of coffee making. It helped him categorize his day; he was a man who lived by strategizing, tweaking his day so that he could make the most of it.

As if suffering from amnesia why couldn’t he remember last night; a strange man should be able to jar his memory, but not a clue; maybe after a demitasse of black Cajun coffee he might return to normal.

As the coffee dropped into the grègue the man walked into the kitchen naked. And then he remembered, his name was Cal, it was tattooed onto his chest with the A sunken into the cavity between two huge mounds of pecs of which each had a letter, C on the left and L on the right.

“Good morning,” Allen said.

Cal answered, “Good morning to you.”

“A cup of coffee?” Asked Allen.

“Yes, black, please,” added Cal?

“That makes two of us,” said Allen.

Cal stood there drinking a demitasse of black, potent Cajun coffee.

“Dude, good brew,” he said.

“It’s called café forte de Louisiane,” said Allen.

“It’s making the hair on my body stand up,” said Cal.

Allen noticed that another body part of particular interest was also standing.

Cal noticed Allen making a note.

A bit embarrassed Allen asked him, “Refresh my memory about last night?”

Well as I remember it, we met at the local watering hole on the outskirts of town called Lune Bleu. You were drinking a local beer and I was drinking a well known brew not so local. I asked you if I might join you and you said ‘yes’. The rest is history.

“You don’t hold your liquor so we’ll do you,”asked Cal.

“Sure you didn’t slip a Mickey in my drink?”

Asked Allen.

“Cajun man, of course not I like my men fully cognizant who can give me a play by play after we play,” said Cal.

As the strength of the coffee worked through his

body the caffeine bombardment began to jar his memory; he remember good sex initiated by Cal, but with his own willful cooperation.

[miochimochi]

Something bars often use, although rarely make for themselves, is simple syrup: 1 part water, 1 part sugar, mix on heat until fully combined, cook a little more, and you're done! For soda syrups, you want to take into account what ingredients you're using. Everything will have sugars, but it's fruits that really have a lot of sugar naturally in them and so should be taken into account. A cup of water is 237g. A cup of sugar is 200g. 237:200 is the ratio, you can't simplify it further without going into decimals.

The sugar in fruits varies quite a bit, so you have to kinda approximate and then adjust how much added sugar you put in to accommodate. The numbers below assume a medium sized fruit (unless otherwise stated):

Banana 14g

Apple 20g

Orange 12g

Pear 17g

Lemon 2.5g

Lime 1g

1c of sliced Strawberries 8g

1c of Blueberries 15g

1c of Blackberries 7g

1c of Raspberries 5.5g

I would also recommend holding off on the caffeine for any syrup until you figure out the ratio of syrup to water mixture for any syrup you make, some sodas need more syrup than others to taste their best. Once you got the water:syrup ratio figured out, then you can figure out the ratio of caffeine you can add. Always add the caffeine at the end of syrup cooking and, for your own health's sake, measure it carefully and don't taste the syrup after putting it in. Soda making is a lot of trial and error so don't get discouraged if you make a bad syrup, just tweak it and try again 👌

How to DIY energy drinks for cheap

First, required reading: link to article

Energy drinks have a few vital components:

>sweetener

>flavor

>water

>caffeine

>bubbles (i never do that and don't know how)

Here are some of my favorite things to use:

>granulated sugar (sweetener)

>stevia leaf or granulated artificial sweetener (sweetener)

>kool aid (flavor, sweetener)

>loose-leaf herbs (flavor) (try hibiscus petal, chicory, even lemongrass and mint can be nice)

>lemon juice (flavor, preservative)

>kool aid (easiest flavor/sweetener combo)

Supplies you might need:

>kettle or pot for heating water

>tea strainer ball to keep your leaves out of the final product

>a nice ragu jar or old Gatorade bottle for pre-made stuff

>funnel for pourin

>ladle for scooping liquid into the funnel

Kaffn-8 or any other such liquid caffeine product will do you for caffeine. That brand is super easy and convenient. Kaffn-8 is my favorite for the quality and ease in dosing, as well as the value (15 bucks has lasted me 2 months of daily use).

I like to make a sugar-flavor concentrate, then assemble each glass as I need it. Sugar tastes better when melted with heat than when dissolved without heat, even once chilled. This also allows me to tweak caffeine content. Here is how to make it:

Fill tea ball with herbs (use about a handful or 1/2 cup for every quart of water, you're making it strong)

Heat water and pop the tea ball in

Simmer or keep hot for 10 min

Remove tea ball and turn off heat

While hot, add as much sugar as you had herbs, and mix until melted.

Mix in as much lemon juice (or other assorted acid or preservative) as you can stand. The more preservative, the longer it'll keep

Allow to cool enough to handle

Jar it up, put it in the fridge for later use. You can and should re-use all manner of bottle, just be wary of melting anything plastic or burning your hands w hot water.

A note: the smaller your batches, the less you waste. But high concentrations of acid and sugar keep it good for up to a month in the fridge.

To use: mix water in a cup with your syrup, tweaking concentrations until it tastes good. Add caffeine, measuring your dose carefully.

Then, do bubble magic to add carbonation if you can do that. Maybe you found a soda stream somewhere. If you don't have bubbles, you'll just have to enjoy your energy drinks flat.

And, you're all done!

Now, where to get everything:

(Grow your own herbs if you are mega brave. Mints are nearly indestructible little plants.)

Lemon juice, dollar store. Quality is the same, you've just got to shake it up.

if its a foreign grocer, they likely have herbs cheap. If its a Mexican grocery, they 100% have the best herbs. (Aguasfrescas drink mixes are cheap and THE BOMB, and hibiscus flower always comes in mega bulk) .

Herbalist and spiritual shops have herbs too, and are likely to have tea balls. Branch out! Catnip has been my favorite oddball herb.

Farmers markets also have some (like three if you're lucky) herbs, and you may have to dry them yourself. Since it's punk to reach out to your community, ask around at the farmers market to see if you can get any herb or dried flavorant that's on your mind- small businesses love consumer feedback! You just might have to wait for the plant to grow, heh, but if you're friendly then you'll make friends. Some examples: ask the jam bottler for dried fruit peels, the farmer for mugwort

I get my artificial sweeteners on closeout, my stevia from herbal shops, and my sugar at Walmart (bite me, its cheap and I'm poor).

Kaffn-8 can only be found online, as far as I'm aware. I promise I'm not sponsored, just a grateful caffeine addict.

Do Google your herbs for drug interactions if you take meds. Healthline has good info on herbs. Dried grapefruit rind can mess with my psych meds, for example.

Again, be careful about caffeine. Always dose your caffeine. Having high levels of caffeine on tap is a bit of a big responsibility: I know I nearly bit the dirt from the all-you-can-eat espresso bar at my college. Immaturity could kill you, caffeine is a drug. Count doses, never go above 500 a day, try not to go more than 200 in the same hour.

Now take that money you've saved and give it to a charity to blow a very mean raspberry at nestle. Or, yknow, feed yourself. Its a tough world.

[binniesthighs]

a/n: this piece is a lil gift for by lovely friend arina ♡ (ฉันรักคุณ & ich liebe dich!!) ♡ as well as my first submission for svtredroom!! happy valentines day to you all hehe and i hope ya remember that i love you too so! much! 

~in which getting stood up on Valentines Day goes a bit more differently than you expected 

Like the Movies 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x jeon wonwoo 

Genre: fluffy smut 

Tags: valentines day au, meet cute au, mentions of food and alcohol, sexual tension, hook-up, businessman!wonwoo, wonwoo being expensive eeee, softdom!wonwoo, sub!reader, kitchen sex, oral (f receiving), bondage, unprotected sex (stay safe!!), cockwarming hehe 

Word count: 2.9k 

Tagging: @hongnanglen-arina​ @svtredroom​

He had been sitting there for at least forty-five minutes--or longer--you didn’t quite know, seeing as you had only been there for forty-five minutes yourself. In the time that you had spent waiting, watching him had become a bit of your routine; he wasn’t watching, so it wasn’t like you had been disturbing anyone. 

You couldn’t imagine why someone like him would be sitting alone on a night like this. 

Someone must’ve been a fool to think that they could leave him at that table by himself, for at least forty-five minutes, to read over the menu for the tenth time like you had watched him do. 

Granted, you had also been sitting there for at least forty-five minutes. 

Perhaps the world was much crueler than you had expected...especially on this holiday supposedly all about love and connection. 

He had perfect posture: the kind that made you assume he must’ve been a businessman or someone else important who had to train themselves to keep a strong composure. The suit that he wore was plain, although it looked as if it had undoubtedly cost him a small fortune. Every corner and pleat of the fabric had been pressed professionally and not a speck of dust or dander seemed to cling to it. His raven black hair too looked effortlessly tussled with the stray strand here and there that must have been planned. Those slender fingers of his pushed up his wire framed glasses now and then. Under the dim lighting of the restaurant, his eyes of a dark brown reflected a color of dark obsidian: both cold and testing. 

To his side, he had a tall glass of wine that he had barely touched: you thought to yourself maybe he just liked how it looked here; like he really was just waiting, and not sitting alone. 

“Have you decided if you would like to order while you wait miss?” 

Your waiter with a wispy beard leaned in to speak to you over the noise of the room. 

“Ah-no. Not yet. I think I want to wait a little longer. I think that they should be here soon.” 

“Of course,” He bowed. 

Across the room, his waiter approached him as well, likely whispering the same question. He nodded, and shooed him with the wave of his hand. Lithe fingers toyed with the stem of his glass, he he rose his head. 

In your surprise, he had turned his head over to your direction of the room, and you suddenly became much more interested in the small assortment of white and cream colored roses on your table. You could feel his gaze, but you couldn’t bring up the bravery to meet it. 

Under the table, your watch ticked tiny and nearly silent ticks as you waited for the minutes to pass by even farther. 

How long is it acceptable to wait until you accept that they’re never coming? 

In many ways, you felt pathetic and crinkled like the browning edges of those very flowers in the glass vase before you. Who in their right mind would stand someone up on Valentines Day? Out of all days of the year? 

You thought to yourself that it must’ve taken some kind of evil and unfeeling person to do so...and you were the fool to think that you would’ve thought they would have showed up. For a moment, you had thought that perhaps it would be better if you left, marched right out of that door into the winter cold, gotten a taxi to the grocery store to buy discounted valentines day candy and cherry cola, then ate it all until you gave yourself a headache. As the night drew longer, that didn’t seem like the worst idea. 

“Ma’am? I’m sorry, but we ask that if you are going to sit that you order an item...we have a waiting list still and we would prefer if you got your money’s worth.” 

You could see the remorse in your waiters eyes. Even he felt bad for you. 

Your eyes drifted to the lobster bisque that you had assumed you would have ordered had they showed up. 

Discount candy? Or lobster bisque? 

“--One order of the Burrata please.” 

He had slipped into the chair across with you as swift as a shadow, and you hadn’t even seen him coming. From this close, he was even more breathtaking. His broad shoulders seemed to take up the whole space of the seat before you, and his creeping smile held a type of mystery that was intriguing and terrifying. 

The waiter himself looked a bit surprised. “One...order of the Burrata then.” 

The man sighed, then took off his glasses with finesse. 

“It looks like you and I are in the same predicament.” His tone was deep, but still gentle. “I don’t think its fair to be alone on a night like tonight. I hope you don’t mind that I invited myself over.” 

“N-no. Not at all.” Your throat felt dry. 

Rather than respond, he smiled out in a grin that made you instantly enthralled. Even though you didn’t know him much, you knew him to be the kind of man that could wrap you around his little finger. Had it been any other day of the year, you wouldn’t have given him the time of day, but, today wasn’t any other day of the year. 

“I assume you already know what you’d like to order?” 

“Mm. Yes. I think I’ve looked over the menu just as many times as you have.” 

He folded his arms over his chest with a little chuckle. 

“I’m Jeon Wonwoo. And you are?” 

“Y/n.” 

“Seems like it there’s a reason that we’re both here at the same time, and...by ourselves.” 

“Not...anymore.” You took a sip of your own wine with heart racing. 

“You’re right.” He rose his own glass into the air which he had taken from his table. “To being alone...together.” 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Your heeled shoes fell to the hardwood floors of his apartment with a clack. His whole home seemed to be swelling with the same energy that he held about himself. It was simple, minimal, no room for anything that looked sentimental or unbecoming for someone as proper as him. The layout was mostly open with each of the rooms connecting to the other. Every item in the apartment seemed to be either gunmetal grey, or black. His kitchen was large for a relatively small apartment, and had a centerpiece of a large black marble island. 

“Espresso?” He offered as he pulled at his shirt collar and tie. 

“Sure.” 

You wondered about you, tracing your fingertips over the leather couches and spotless upholstery of his dining table chairs. The far wall of the apartment was made of floor to ceiling windows that gave a magnificent view of the city in all it’s nighttime spectral glow. Millions of lights made up the cityscape and twinkled like faraway stars from the height of his 17th floor home. From here, you could take in the whole city fully and it filled you with an unknown sense of tranquility. 

Behind you his stainless steel espresso maker made a little humming sounds, and then the air was filled with the nutty aroma of the coffee. You walked over, feeling the cold touch of the wood under your pantyhose. He placed the small cup on a saucer and presented it to you. The smell filled up your senses and it was perfectly foamy on the top. From the quality of the brew, you assumed this must’ve been his hobby. 

The both of you drank your shots in silence, and you waited to feel the caffeine rush though your body. 

You placed the cup down, “Thank you.” 

He chuckled a little, then rose his finger to wipe a bit of the foam from the corner of your mouth. Instinctually you licked your lips after with the ghostly touch of him lingering there. He licked the remnants off his finger. All at once, you felt yourself grow weaker under the weight of his obsidian eyes. A tension too held in the air as he leaned his body lower and lower...

He tasted like coffee, much as you had expected yourself to taste as well. It was startling, but he was still gentle in the way that he had pulled your frame into his body with fingers splayed across your back. On your teetering tip-toes, you struggled to keep your balance returning the heat of his mouth. He had been smiling devilishly too as his hands explored your whole body: from the curves of your hips and your shoulder blades, all the way down to your ass which he grabbed at in handfuls. It was no mystery that he had hardened against your stomach and the feeling made you keen even further in his arms. 

A deep groan vibrated his chest when your own hands explored the width of his back and clawed lightly at the fabric of his suit jacket hiding the rippling muscles underneath. He told you to continue by kissing a trail down the side of your cheek to your jaw, then to your neck where he sucked and kissed wet little reminders of adoration into the skin. Slowly, your hands snuck under the jacket and to his crinkling shirt. 

In one motion, he lifted you by the back of your thighs to the stone counter which felt startlingly cold under your nearly bare legs. Here, you were allowed a better angle to throw your arms over his shoulders and push off the thick fabric that kept you at bay. You granted yourself one little peek between the kisses to take up the way that his arm muscles flexed the white cotton. He did the same with hasty fingers going to untie the thin bow that held up your blouse. His fingers tickled you as he tore the shirt up and off your head to throw it somewhere you had no idea where. After, he set to work unclasping your bra with ease, and the same needy hands cupped at your breasts firmly, tweaking your buds in-between his index and middle. Further, he traversed down your chest to suck harshly at your hardened nipples, not even caring when his teeth had grazed them slightly. 

Your arousal had become painfully obvious in your underwear constricted by your tights. You couldn’t help but squirm feeling yourself getting wetter by the second. His teasing gaze never left you while he looked up at you with your perky nipples on his tongue. Shameless moans and breathy gasps from you filled the wide and open apartment, and got lost in the empty corners of the room. 

You felt dizzy and breathless once he had decided to stop and opted to tear his tie off his neck. 

“Can I tie your hands with this? Please?” He kissed the words into your neck and nibbled them into your ear. 

You let out a little whimper saying “yes” and offered your wrists to him. 

You would have never imagined it, but the blue silk looked even more lovely than you would’ve guessed. His eyes darkened too seeing how helpless you had become like this. It as as if he couldn’t help himself: he held your tied hands up to his lips where he kissed at your fingers and palms, giving them gifts of his pleasure to them. 

He lowered you back to lay flat on the marble counter and the cold sensation made your whole body shiver wonderfully. 

“Just relax.” He cooed while kissing down your stomach and fiddling with the zipper of your skirt. 

The heat of your core had become unbearable waiting for him, and each of his teasing touches against your inner thighs and on your sides sent you spinning for more. 

You were colder without your clothes, but soon he had granted you the rub of his thumb on your clit over your panties and a mischievous smile spread across his lips. 

“God, you’re gorgeous.” He said, pulling your thin panties to the side to take a peek. He granted one more finger to rub over you directly and mix with your slick. 

“Mm-fuck.” Your hips twisted with each of his touches and your hands writhed in the knot of his tie. 

Wickedly slow, he removed your panties from your legs, then stopped to let his hot breath swirl over your twitching clit. 

“Such a good girl.” He permitted you one kiss which elicited pathetic and needy moans from your mouth. 

Wonwoo began his tantalizing lapping: thick and slow stripes with his wetted mouth that made you tremble. It was criminal how wet he had made you, and it was obscene how each of his kisses sounded against your clit. His cat-like eyes tested you further as if to say watch what a beautiful mess I make of you. 

The mixture of cold stone on your back and the heat of your waist was terribly confusing, but you couldn’t help but get lost in it. 

“Don’t you look so pretty like this?”  

Your voice wavered and you lost yourself further in him while he continued. Your hands did feel trapped--you wanted nothing more to mess up that hair of his, and make it all yours to take in sinfully...but he didn’t grant you that pleasure. 

It didn’t take him long to build up your orgasm, and each flick over your bud, he drew you closer and closer into melting into a shaking mess over his mouth. He built you up until you were painfully sensitive, then smiled with his gorgeously white smile when you came on his tongue, even grinding slightly to ride your release which he reveled in. 

“Did you like that sweetheart?” 

Airy chuckles shook your chest and you tried your best to calm your trembling body. 

“Y-yes.” 

“Here, sit up.” 

Wonwoo grabbed you by your arms to help you up, and admittedly, you felt a bit dizzy yourself. 

“Grab on.” 

He prompted you to wrap yourself around him, which you were a bit hesitant of, but his now warm smile assured you that all would be well. 

“Don’t worry.” He simply soothed. 

You did so, even getting a little embarrassed over your arousal that must’ve been rubbing off on his clothes. 

He walked the two of you over to his velvety looking couch, having you sit on his lap. Even after this while, he was still as hard as before. He returned his mouth to paint kisses into yours once more, filling your mouth with adoring comments in between each one. 

“I can’t believe that you’re all mine tonight.”  

His hands returned to your breasts to kneed over them more carefully this time. 

“Would you like to ride my dick princess?” 

It had been absentminded, but you had been grinding into his lap and against his swelling dick. 

“Y-yes. Please. I-I want to.” 

Wonwoo carefully helped you off his lap to remove himself of his own pants, then guided your hips over his hardened length which was much longer and girthier than it had appeared to be hidden under his pants. 

“Take it as slow or as fast as you want, okay? We have all night.” 

Once more his smiling kisses peppered your mouth, then you lowered yourself over him, and it was near euphoric how tightly you took him in. It was effortless in the way that the tip of his head would graze your cervix just like this. Both of you groaned out your symphony of pleasure. 

“Oh fuck--” His eyes rolled. “You’re unreal.” 

Wonwoo’s fingers dug deeply into your lower back, guiding the return of your hips over his length all the while giving love bites to the soft nape of your neck. Connected with him like this, the stranger that you barely knew, you felt a sense of closeness unlike anything you had felt before. He must have put a spell on you from the way each one of his kisses and the pull of your lip by his teeth made you fall deeper into him.

Your thighs straddled him harder in all of your want: you wanted to make him one with you, to have him all to yourself even though you knew he wasn’t yours to keep. The way that his faint grunts wavered in your ears was too much for you to handle. You weren’t alone. On the night that you thought you hadn’t been wanted, he made you feel as if you were the only one there was. 

He hushed into you, “Cum for me, beautiful.” 

Your hands now untied, you raked them though his hair just as you had wanted, chasing your orgasm roughly while you made a mess of him just as he did for you. It tightened in your core, and you used every last shred of your energy to maintain your speed over him. It was exhausting, and your legs shook the closer you got. 

It flushed over your whole body, and dripped down your legs: it was electricity through each of your extremities, and then it was heat, warm as the sun that ran from the tips of your ears to your neck still throbbing from his lips pulling there, hard, as he reached his own orgasm that was left throbbing inside your walls. 

A wave of exhaustion swept over you while you clung to him and he to you. He really was unimaginably handsome this close. The side of his hand caressed down the side of your dewy face. 

“Would you like to be alone together...more?” 

[sidespart]

For the fic title thing: Make Up Your Mind/Catch Me I’m Falling

Make Up Your Mind (this seriously got away from me and became basically a whole string of conscious fic whoops)

Logince, Bakery/coffeeshop AU Mutual Pining/ Not-Actually-Unrequited love, + loceit friendship

So Janus owns a Bakery (struggling to think of a snake/lie based bread pun for the name but ehh). He is the head only baker and sends most of his time in the basement kitchen blasting the phantom of the opera soundtrack and kneading dough. 

Logan is his childhood friend. Janus hired him as cashier after Logan dropped out of collage but then he never left and is now basically manager/ accountant/ hbic of this whole operation.

So one night as Janus is leaving he’s casually like: ‘oh by the way, a couple are coming by tomorrow for a wedding cake consultation’

And Logan blocks the door and is like: ‘Janus. We don’t do wedding cakes. We don’t even do cake. You only make weird artisanal bread. it took me 6 months and 8 powerpoint presentations to convince you to sell banana loaf’

Jan, his eye enormous: ‘but Logan, you should have heard this guy on the phone. They only want to use LGBTQ businesses for their wedding, they want to support the community that’s supported them for so long. He spoke so passionately and eloquently about why it just had to be us I couldn't say no’

Logan, his eyes not enormous: did you tell this man we make wedding cakes just to make the phone conversation end?

Janus: I was going to miss the murder, she wrote marathon, Logan 

So Jan manages to escape, and Logan rolls his eyes but like. This is nowhere near the worst ‘cleaning up after Janus lied to get out of a situation and made everything more complicated for no goddamm reason’ incident that he has had to deal with during the course of their friendship so, whatever: he can tell the couple there was a miscommunication when they show up in the morning. 

Next day, the guys arrive. Virgil, who barley introduces himself and then stays hunched in his hoodie not speaking for the whole meeting, and Roman. 

Roman does not have a problem speaking. Roman has lots of ideas.

Roman has a binder. 

Somehow in the course of this conversation Logan goes from ‘we don’t make wedding cakes’ to ‘I’LL SHOW YOU, WE’LL MAKE THE BEST GODDAMM WEDDING CAKE THIS TOWN HAS EVER SEEN’

Maybe it was the passion of Romans argument. Maybe it was the slightly disdainful look on his face when he looked round the shop. Maybe it was the ridiculous amount of money he was prepared to pay (see: Janus insists on only making specific, weird bread as to why the shop’s always on the brink of collapse). Maybe it was the power of the binder (Logan is like 80% sure Roman hit him with the binder at one point). Maybe its just Logan hasn't had a full blown passionate argument like that since high school debate club and the rush of adrenaline made him dumb.

Whatever the reason - they’re now fully committed to making this 6 tier, purple and blue, Disney inspired, multiflavoured wedding cake

(Janus, who skipped out on the meeting because he is Like That: But Logan....we don’t make wedding cakes...this was really irresponsible of you...

 Logan: I know where you sleep. I could kill you at any time) 

Which would be doable (the weddings a while off, and Logan is ready to RESEARCH) except Roman keeps. Coming. Back. 

With new ideas. And tweaks. And suggestions. All of them seemingly designed to make the cake less structurally sound. 

Basically every time he comes in they end up having a blazing row, first about Romans inability to make up his mind about the cake and then about...literally everything. One time they spent 25 minuets arguing about whether or not Shakespeare wrote all of his plays, which somehow turns into ‘who was the best host of blues clues?’ which then turned  into ‘how would nationalised healthcare best be implemented?’ (the loudest arguments were during the blues clues section).Logan had even fewer customers then normal that day.

(Logan: I hate that guy so much! He shows up at 2pm every day and now my blood pressure has started going up at 1.55pm in anticipation of the fight! He’s causing me actual medical distress because he’s so stupid!

Janus:...you’ve memorised some guys schedule and your heart starts racing whenever you see him?

Logan: yes! because he is my enemy!

Janus:...

Janus: mmKay.)

ANYway, one day Roman turns up and is like: Can’t fight today. Need caffeine. Must Study. and sequesters himself on one of their two rinky dink tables and starts pulling enormous textbooks out of his bag. Turns out Roman is in law school, he’s back home for the whole summer to help with wedding prep and has been neglecting his summer reading. He wants to be an environmental lawyer and, ideally, singly handily prosecute every oil company and give a speech at the UN whilst wearing an immaculately fitted Italian suit. 

Logan has a panicked moment of OH NO HE’S SMART (he doesn't need an oh no he’s hot moment because Roman’s been hot the whole time). Very carefully he does not think about how upset hearing Roman mention the wedding again made him feel, and then shares a bit about his own anxiety during college which led to him dropping out.

Roman says degree or no degree its obvious Logan is one of the smartest, most capable people Romans ever met.

Cue: blushing, stammering, Logan standing up to quickly and knocking half a pot of coffee over etc etc all that good fluff. 

And after that their conversations are less confrontational (although they still debate like. everything.) and more friendly.

They have one (1) more conversation about the wedding wherein Roman apologises for being so stressed and snappy over all the preparation stuff but he just wants everything to be perfect for Virgil. (Logan, awkwardly: you must love him a lot. Roman, himbo-ly: Yeah!) aaand then Logan changes the subject to the best rhyming structure because Romans big sappy grin is making his heart do awful twisty things-

And eventually, Roman asks Logan to go out with him outside the bakery.

Logan: hahaha this is friendship, we are great friends, we are going out as friends. I am not going on a date with a man with a fiancé because that would be the actions of a crazy person.

 So they go on their date. It’s amazing. Roman leans in for a kiss at the end and Logan is delighted!

And then devastated.

He pushes Roman away, yells some creative insult (malodorous centurion?) and flees. Spends the next week basically hiding in the kitchen area, refusing to see any customers and working on the wedding cake.

(which is looking perfect by the way)

So after a week of Logan moping round the kitchen Janus finally blocks the door to stop him leaving and demand he tells him what the hell is wrong. And after a few minuets of filibustering Logan ends up telling him everything.

“In any case, the very fact that he is the kind of man who would cheat on his fiancé means he’s not the kind of man I thought he was. Therefore any alleged feelings I may have developed towards him would now be null and void” says Logan, looking like the worlds sadist accountant

Janus: So...wait. You’re saying wedding cake guy and hot lawyer guy are the same person?

(Logan: you need to come out of the basement more often Janus: YOU need to tell me what’s going on in your life more often. (they have had this conversation many times in the past))

So Janus sincerely tells Logan he’s sorry...and that he’s even more sorry that he needs him to help him deliver the cake to the venue tomorrow.

(this thing is way to big for one person to carry and there’s no way Jan would trust any of their occasional teenage cover staff to do this and ‘we’ll go round the back and you wont have to see anyone anyway comon Lo’ you basically built this monstrosity you should see it home)

So, reluctantly, Logan goes. And they go round the back as promised, and get this enormous cake settled, and then get told to wait there one sec cus one of the grooms is going to come sign for it and before Logan can throw himself out of the widow (get OFF me Janus we’re on the ground floor it’s FINE)  from behind them they hear squeeing.

There’s a curly haired dude in a pastel blue linen suit who Logan has never seen before in his life looking at the cake and cooing over ‘all the little details! its perfect! oh Virgil is going to love this! You know he was so embarrassed about asking for a Disney themed cake he had to ask Roman to go with him to -”

“Who ARE you?”

The man blinked at Logan, who realised dimly that he still had one foot up on the windowsill and slowly returned it to the floor. 

“I’m Patton” said Patton.

“And I’m Janus” said Janus, removing his arms from where they’d still been clamped around Logan’s waist and stepping smoothly towards Patton, clipboard held aloft “A pleasure to meet you, if you could just sign here...”

“BUT-” Patton paused, hand still raised to accept the clipboard, and looked over again at Logan who found himself mumbling:  “but - but the groom is supposed to sign for it?”

And Patton just smiled at him looking a bit bemused and goes ‘I am the groom? And who are you kiddo?”

Logan says he’s Logan. Patton suddenly looks a whole lot less friendly. 

“Oh.” says Patton. “You.”

And since Logan’s mind is currently refusing to take in the information in front of him Janus is the one who ends up stepping in between them and going “so just for 100% transparency - you are Patton. 

“yes?”

“and today you are marrying the love of your life: Virgil?”

“Yes!”

“And are either of you, at any point today, also planning on marrying one Roman Sanders, caffeine addict and terrible communicator?”

And Paton burst out laughing and says “ROMAN? Virgil’s big brother Roman? He’s my best man but I don’t think we’re planning to take it any further...”. And because Patton is apparently much quicker on the emotional uptake than Logan he gives him a vey soft, if slightly exasperated, look and says:

“Roman - who again, is my future brother-in-law- is helping set up in the main hall.”

And Logan likes to think he said thank you before he took off fucking RUNNING through the building but he can’t be sure.

So he gets to the hall, where a load of people are setting out chairs, putting up flowers etc,  and skids to a stop at one end of the aisle. Shouts: “ROMAN.” (Roman and Virgil, who were standing at the other end arguing over a flower arrangements, both look up) “YOU’RE NOT MARRYING YOUR BROTHER.”

“um.” Says Roman “No?”

Explanations are given. Virgil, who is a lot more talkative now that he’s not on 7th wedding appointment of the day burn out, is ready to physically fight Logan for breaking his brothers heart. And then once he understands the full story is ready to kill both of them for being such dumbasses.

Roman: But I s2g I told the guy on the phone that it was the groom and best man coming??? Logan: Yeah he might have lied and said you were a couple for a joke, or he may have just straight up not listened to you. Either way, he is just Like That.

Logan: WHY DID YOU NEVER MENTION VIRGIL WAS YOUR BORTHER?? Roman: I WAS TRYING TO GET TO KNOW YOU AND ALSO SEDUCE YOU WHY WOULD I WASTE TIME TALKING ABOUT MY LITTLE BROTHER??? Virgil: Yeah...he does like talking about himself, sorry he’s just  Like That.

Anyway it all ends fluffily, Patton and Virgil get married. Roman cries. Logan and Jan hang around for the wedding. Roman and Logan hold hands throughout the speeches and dance during the reception. Roman has to go back to law school soon but they agree to call each other every day at 2pm to catch up and argue. 

Janus gets off with the moustachioed DJ. 

And Roman and Logan get another chance at their first kiss.

[compassofsouls]

Mobius is grateful that Loki mentions his situation so quickly: the man had been of half a mind to crack a joke and tweak that jacket of Loki’s. He masks disappointment and concern, consoling himself with the reality that, regardless, Loki’s in one piece – and as long as that’s true, there’s a chance that things can change. Still, a hug would have been nice: something to really make this feel solid. Real. Heck, he’s still struggling to come to terms with the scene which had been playing before him for the last hour.

For lack of anything better for them to do, he shoves hands into his coat pockets and rocks back on his heels. Pie sounds good (when doesn’t it?) and it’s not like he has anywhere else to be. Perhaps stepping away from this self-inflicted melancholy would do him good. Besides, he’s certain he’ll need some sugar and caffeine to fully process all of this. “Know what? Sure. C’mon – I’ll find a place”

He knows himself well enough that he’ll have chosen a home in a well-equipped suburb and sure enough it’s hardly far to the nearest diner. An inconspicuous check of his wallet proves reassuring (TVA training had at least equipped him for the event of being stranded), and he orders two coffees to go with the pie. Setting the second mug down opposite, and with every intention to drink it straight after he’s done with his own, he settles back to regard Loki curiously. Now that the initial excitement has settled, he’s keen for details – something, anything, he might be able to use to help. “Okay, so. Let’s get complicated.”

In the scheme of things, Loki has weighed up whether he thinks it’s fair to show up like this. After such a grand bow out, a sacrifice so that those he loves can finally make their own way, is it right not to give Mobius time to process? At the time, it wasn’t as if he expected he would be able to come back; if what he has attempted so far would work. He’s not here, not physically, but he surmised there was no reason he shouldn’t be able to use his duplication casting on a branch. It seemed logical – in the fictional sense – and, apparently, it works. Perhaps what wouldn’t be fair would be to know that you could visit and never do so. Sylvie needs her space, but does Mobius, truly? Better to ask. He can give Mobius all the time or space he wants. Here he stands, his clothes transformed into a kintsugi-styled jacket over a regular black suit. His horns are modest, barely Sylvie’s size.

There’s a soft smile on the god’s – God’s – lips when Mobius inadvertently echoes words from O.B.’s garage. He feels like he should cry, but either he’s done so much crying the ducts don’t want to work for a while or this new status of his makes emotion that much harder. He suspects the former. His heart aches being in Mobius’ presence again after everything and it burns not to be able to reach out and touch him. It’s so strange to have come full circle, to prove right what he has always tried to preach, only after walking among them and learning hard lessons of his own.

Loki turns his face toward him at last. “I told you I was ten steps ahead,” he jokes with a shrug. His lips quickly purse and he shakes his head. “I’m casting here. I’m still... out there. It’s complicated to explain. How about some pie? For you, anyway. I’m used to playing pretend.”

[jacksgreysays]

Fake Fic Summaries 29/?, the Undercover Gender Feels edition (2021-11-19)

Imperfect, Impermanent

Deku goes undercover, investigates corruption in the government, goes to a party, gets introduced to himself, accidentally falls in love with the man he’s always subconsciously loved since he first understood the concept of love, and actively reconsiders his gender identity. Yes, in that order.

So of course, Bakugou has to make things more complicated.

~

A/N: Again, still, I have not watched BnHA and I do not know why I consume the fanfic regardless, but I do, and I am still as ever conflicted about my feelings for BakuDeku, but here’s a dream I had and it was so clear that I couldn’t help but type it out:

It starts with Deku undercover because he can reliably fake an entirely different quirk than the one he has on file and that’s the hardest part of going undercover, tbh. His appearance can be tweaked with makeup and he is known to be, by the public, a cis man.

I’m going to warn now for gender dysphoria/questioning and, due to that, incorrect/inconsistent pronoun usage because going into this fic, Deku internally thinks he is a cis man going undercover as a trans woman and so since its POV Deku, we will use he/him. However, in theory if I were to actually write this, Deku would feel satisfied/pleased whenever referred by she/her while undercover. Internally presumed because that means a successful undercover; externally we know it’s because Deku’s having gender feels.

Anyway, Deku goes undercover. I think Shinsou was his contact/handler and there was a larger team/department that Shinsou worked with including Monoma and Camie although they didn’t know Deku’s real identity.

The mission was to investigate a leak/embezzling/corruption within Japanese government’s Emergency Management and Response Department, ie the people who are supposed to help with relieving and rebuilding post natural disasters or, in the world of BnHA, large scale quirk related destruction. As such, Deku goes undercover in that department.

And guess whose quirk frequently causes large scale destruction? :D

Anyway, Bakugou meets Deku’s undercover identity. As far as he knows, there’s this one woman who fascinates him who doesn’t put up with his shit even if she is very polite about it, and we already know Deku’s weird admiration/infatuation despite their fraught history. So imagine that admiration/infatuation unencumbered and able to have a fresh start. Sometimes they get coffee because both of their jobs are very important and require caffeine and maybe this has become a weekly tradition of sorts.

The fic that I probably won’t write, would begin several months into this status quo. More specifically, DynaMight’s having a birthday celebration and as #1 Hero of Japan its pretty big and fancy but seeing as how most of his friends/classmates are also big name heroes themselves its mostly just Class 1-A and company partying in fancy clothes. Given the premise, obviously Bakugou invites Deku’s undercover identity. Also obviously Deku as himself is invited and expected to come.

Thankfully, Shinsou is also there. Also also thankfully Camie is there, although we’ll get to that in a second.

Because Deku was invited personally by Bakugou as the undercover identity, that’s the one he prioritizes and he assumes that, since “real Deku” hasn’t spoken/interacted much with Bakugou after graduation that it won’t be noticed if “real Deku” doesn’t show up.

OBVIOUSLY THAT’S NOT THE CASE BECAUSE I LOVE IDENTITY FIC

The dream was very in Deku’s POV, it began with Bakugou and Deku (undercover identity) talking right before entering the party in which Bakugou, in his way, says that he wants to introduce undercover Deku to some people—Deku thinks this is like… probably not fully professional reasons, but as a friend? People are possibly inferring more considering how (relatively) courteous Bakugou is being and the fact that he’s going out of his way to introduce this person to them to begin with.

Deku, who has been in Bakugou’s orbit since he could form conscious memories doesn’t fully understand how unique this situation is. His context, to put it lightly, is skewed.

Anyway, this continues. At some point they do split up enough for Shinsou and Deku to talk (and thus establish within the fic that Shinsou is Deku’s undercover contact/handler) but then here’s the dramatic problem:

Bakugou is looking for Deku. As in “real Deku” but so far none of Class 1-A has seen him. Obviously.

Then for some reason in the dream, Bakugou called Deku on his “real Deku” cell phone in order to yell at him for not being at the party. But then overheard sounds of the party and went like, wtf are you here already and not showing your face, and Deku’s just like… hahaha… I’m… networking?

So Bakugou’s just like. Hey come see me before you fuck off like usual.

So, ok, that’s easy—Deku’s undercover look was designed to be simple enough to change between (not immediate, but less than ten minutes for sure)—so he’ll just show up as “real Deku” for a bit, show his face to Bakugou, and then change back to the undercover Deku identity.

So that’s what Deku does. He does a quick change, says hi to his classmates as “real Deku,” laughs off Bakugou’s irritated yelling, greets him happy birthday and is ready to disappear enough to change back.

Except then Bakugou’s like: I want to introduce you to someone. And tries to find undercover Deku.

And Deku is in trouble.

Thankfully Shinsou is there and so is Camie (and also Uraraka, which was important in the dream, although if I were to write this I would probably streamline it to just be Camie? Although maybe not? Let’s include Uraraka.) Unfortunately, only Shinsou knows Deku’s true identity.

Basically, Deku as “real Deku” is like oh—let me also look for her—makes alarmed faces at Shinsou who fixes it by recruiting Camie and Uraraka. I am unsure of the reasoning, maybe its the timing or the lack of physicality of Camie’s glamours (Bakugou has been… physically present with undercover Deku, you know, a guiding hand at the waist—it’s very crowded, Deku thinks, so maybe Bakugou is just like this with women he didn’t go to school with? LOL), but Camie makes Uraraka look like “real Deku” (I guess because she knows “real Deku” best besides Bakugou and Iida and Todoroki who is bad at acting?) while Deku changes back into undercover Deku

Deku and Shinsou are just like, WE WILL EXPLAIN THIS LATER, BUT WE HAVE TO MAINTAIN THIS COVER RIGHT NOW, as everyone is changing and a months long professional secret is being pressure cooked with the private not so secret of Bakugou introducing a stranger to all his friends and family at his birthday. But they’re all already in a private side room when Bakugou finds them and he tells Shinsou and Camie to get lost, losers, and then Bakugou introduces undercover Deku to “real Deku” who at the moment is actually Uraraka.

And here’s where the dream is making a reach, I know, but it made the connection because of all the canonical Star Wars references: Bakugou introduces undercover Deku as “my Satine.”

WHICH, for those of you who aren’t as aware of the romantic tragedy that is Obi-Wan Kenobi’s life, means “the person I would have left the Jedi Order for, had she asked.” And in this context, between a young Deku and Bakugou before everything about their friendship went wrong, a term that meant “something that you love more than being a hero.” And its not necessarily that Bakugou is planning to stop being a hero—he’s #1, at the top of the game, and the people need him—but, maybe, one day, he wouldn’t mind retiring if it’s with his Satine.

“Real Deku” aka Uraraka, whose face Bakugou is looking at for a reaction, does not know this term, just nods and smiles and says nice to meet you. But actual undercover Deku whose expression is slightly obscured by a different hairstyle and who is facing the wrong way for Bakugou’s peripheral to easily catch, is wide eyed. Is shocked to the point of stifling a gasp.

But undercover Deku shakes “real Deku’s” hand and smiles in possibly the best or worst acting since becoming this identity. It’s a strained, wobbly sort of smile because somehow both of his worlds are simultaneously colliding and imploding and he has to stay in character and Bakugou is watching and Uraraka is doing him a favor without explanation and Shinsou is going to kick his ass if he messes up literal months of work. So he smiles and shakes his own hand and somehow makes it through the rest of the night—hopefully Shinsou can field Camie and Uraraka’s questions long enough to set up a proper debriefing session—and if Bakugou is concerned or suspicious at all, he doesn’t say anything and Deku certainly isn’t in a state of mind to pick up on it.

Bakugou doesn’t make any advances that night—perhaps sensing said state of mind? or perhaps never intending to make any advances. The boy is, ironically, a slow burner when it comes to romance—but he does make sure that they’re still on for their traditional weekly coffee. And that’s it. He doesn’t declare his intentions, he doesn’t explain to undercover Deku what Satine means even though undercover Deku really wouldn’t know the significance of that term and should be curious.

TIME FOR DEKU TO PANIC ABOUT HIS IDENTITY AND WHAT HE WANTS IN LIFE.

And then there’s the follow up scene with Shinsou and Camie and Uraraka in which the professional side of the undercover mission is explained/debriefed which is sort of okay since Camie is already in the same team/department as Shinsou and Uraraka can be considered a consultant/contact since she does work frequently with the Japanese government’s Emergency Management and Response Department. So professionally not too bad.

Personally, Deku is getting ROCKED.

And I want to reassure people that Deku isn’t afraid of Bakugou being transphobic. Bakugou has from the beginning correctly inferred that undercover Deku is a trans woman as he was meant to. We’re in the future(? I think?) I’m declaring there is no transphobia. The problem is that Bakugou doesn’t know undercover Deku is Deku. And also, until the possibility of not having to be “real Deku” ie the publicly known version, it never really occurred to Deku that maybe he didn’t want to be a he in real life and that not being that publicly known version could be an option. And to know that option was a viable enough life and identity that Bakugou—who had, as children before everything fell apart, scorned the very idea of something that would take him away from being a hero, had sworn he’d never have anything resembling a Satine—would want to be with that…

I’M JUST SAYING, THAT I GAVE MYSELF EMOTIONS AND I WANTED TO SHARE.

Then I lost track of what happens after that.. I think Deku as undercover Deku starts to distance themself from Bakugou by being too busy for coffee and also self deprecating comments about not being good enough—which leads to a conversation about that. And that makes things worse because Bakugou then actually declares his romantic intentions and it’s like. NO PLAUSIBLE DENIABILITY ANYMORE, DEKU.

Presumably the mission objective, ie finding the culprit(s) responsible for the leak/embezzling/corruption within Japanese government’s Emergency Management and Response Department, is actually completed which means that undercover identity is no longer needed which I guess would have to lead to undercover Deku identity disappearing? Which then brings up the ultimate confession scene?

I don’t know. I just had so many identity romantic entanglement feelings. I’m only sorry I cannot write this fic properly. RIP fic idea, you gave me so many emotions.

[rvmmm21]

[ V V S her diamonds ] – ch 03.

[4:15 p.m.] Disappointment tweaks at Seungwan’s heart when she peers through the huge glass window of their study cafe and sees no Bae Joohyun. 

. . . . .

A group of students are huddled in the back, bent over open textbooks, laptops and scattered stationary. 

Yerimie, Saeron, Seul, wow, there’s Jennie sunbaenim. And she spies Sooyoung sunbaenim balancing a tray of various caffeine-injected drinks back to the table.

A sad sigh escapes her lips. Perhaps she’s l–

“Seungwan?” 

Oh my g– what the–?! Seungwan screams, whipping around in shock at the fingers gently resting on the back of her shoulder. She’s met with a slightly surprised Joohyun, standing there wearing a cream Jute blouse tucked into denim jeans, twinkling eyes and endless amusement etched into rosebud lips. 

“S-Sunbae!” She exclaims, grasping her chest to calm her rapid-fire heart. “Y-You’re here, I was just–”

What, peering through the glass, looking for you like a creep? 

“It’s fine,” Joohyun chuckles, adjusting her hold on the stack of thick notebooks cradled in her arm and motioning for the younger girl to lead the way. “Let’s go. This is heavy.”

Thursdays might’ve found an unexpected favour with Son Seungwan.

Busy eyes move from annotating to the two girls urgently making their way over, the students lifting their heads at Seungwan’s warm greeting. 

“Sorry we’re late,” she sincerely apologises. 

Jennie knowingly eyes her friend. “Not surprised.” 

Joohyun raises her a playfully challenging brow before slipping into the free seat next to Sooyoung at the end of the table, right across her partner.

“You ordering anything, Wan?” Seulgi asks between highlighting her page, offering her and Joohyun biscuits in individually wrapped aluminium packets.

Joohyun takes one and Seungwan nibbles on the edge of her biscuit, deep in thought. The group soon slips into the robotic rhythm of monochromatic scribbling, greyscale note-taking, typing, and intermittent snacking. Jennie slips away to order small desserts for everyone at the table. They thank her with shocked bows and hungry stares, unable to settle on one in the garland of appetising coloured treats on the tiny table.

“Sunbae, you’re like Santa Claus,” Seulgi happily attacks the New York baked cheesecake. “When did you order this? It’s like we were asleep and we just woke up to presents!”

Her bearish enthusiasm has an observant Sooyoung unconsciously smiling around her fork.

As the group tucks in, Seungwan thinks a group study date is the safest she can be in terms of being on the receiving end of any more of her senior’s teasing mannerisms.

Fortunately, Joohyun always surprises her.

A little later on, they’re discussing the historical impact of contemporary Korean literature. Right in the middle of a sentence, Seungwan’s concentration is shattered by a deep blush of raspberry when she feels a feather-light graze against her right Adidas sweatpant leg. She chokes, almond eyes shooting up from messy essay notes, silently begging for mercy. But of course, Joohyun’s serene, unbothered expression gives nothing away as she continues to ask for her opinion as though Seungwan is crazy for looking like a flustered mess. 

The frazzled junior doesn’t know what makes her head spin more; the fact that Joohyun, composed as ever, initiated a game of footsie right under both their friends’ noses in public… or that she secretly enjoys it.

Not that she’ll ever admit to the latter.

Small fists corkscrew the sleeves of her sky-blue Chrome Hearts hoodie as the desperation to hide the cherry-blossom tint in her cheeks builds.

. . . . .

It’s past midnight by the time they’re done, and everyone bids goodbye with ‘Z’s coming out of their ears. Much to everyone’s surprise, Sooyoung and Seulgi got along pretty well this evening and the taller girl had hastily agreed when Seulgi suggested they visit her favourite boba place. Yerim and Saeron were late for their movie, and Jennie was spending the weekend at her girlfriends’.

“Wait, are we dumb? Why did we book this now,” Saeron asks incredulously, “aren’t you gonna get wrecked by grumpy ajumma? Curfew ended like ten minutes ago.”

“Ah who cares, she’s always like that,” Yerim retorts with a dismissive wave. “I could fill a prison wall with how many strikes she’s given me and Seungwan and Seulgi unnie.” She slings an arm over Saeron’s shoulder, urging them to hurry. “C’mon, ads don’t take forever.”

“Wan-ah,” Seulgi calls back as she’s being dragged away by an eager Sooyoung, “if you order pizza can you leave some out for me!”

“Yeah, yeah. Enjoy. Don’t wake me up.”

“Hyun-ah, you sure you’re not coming?” Jennie’s sleek midnight-black Vetements cardigan blends with the hues of the night sky, giving away how late it is. She swipes into her messages. “Chaeng said she doesn’t mind.” 

Joohyun laughs with mock disgust. “Thanks Jen, but I’m not crashing your date-nights anymore, thank you very much. I saw enough the last time, my eyes can’t take that kind of stuff.”

Waving goodbye, Jennie and Chaeyoung speed off, leaving Seungwan wondering what ‘kind of stuff’ Joohyun could be referring to.

The pair are drawn to the horribly lit bus stop and just about the only source of light for miles. 

Seungwan yawns silently, but she doesn’t mind waiting with Joohyun. It’s late and although her apartment is in the opposite direction, she’d be at ease knowing her friend got home safely.

The darkness is engulfing, allowing an overhead street lamp to bathe them in its flicking spotlight like stars in a West End Production. 

“We were pretty productive today, sunbae,” the younger tries to make conversation to fill the space between them. “Do you wanna come for next week’s session too?”

“Sure,” comes the reply. “Thanks for waiting with me. When’s your ride getting here? We should’ve booked at the same time.”

Seungwan nervously scratches the back of her neck, crinkling her worksheets in her grip. “Uh, I’m just walking home tonight actually.”

“Oh? Do you live closeby?” she asks in surprise, assuming they were both waiting for taxis.

“Ah, yes, I’m just– it’s just down there.”

Joohyun narrows her eyes suspiciously. “Down there… where.”

“Just a quick walk, past… past the duck pond,” the girl mumbles, staring down at her shoes.

“Q-Quick? Quick?” Joohyun stutters, malfunctioning at their severely clashing definitions of ‘close’. A delicate fist draws back and Seungwan flinches, Bae Joohyun looking closer and closer to doing what she did to Lucas to her poor, startled junior. “The duck pond near uni? Yah, Son Seungwan, that’s almost a twenty minute walk from here.” 

“Fifteen if I have my speed walking playlist on,” Seungwan tries, but she isn’t listening.

“A lot of dangerous things can happen in twenty minutes, you know.” She hurriedly unlocks her phone and clicks into the KakaoTaxi app, altering the destination to add a stop and shoving it into reluctant hands. “Hurry, put your address in.” 

Seungwan so badly wants to politely decline, not confident in her ability to sit in a moving vehicle with such a pretty person without hurling herself out the window at top speeds. But the latter’s glare dares her to try.

With shaky fingers, she successfully types in her address after three tries and hands it back. Joohyun checks it and confirms the change. Seungwan wants to comment on how her frantic nature is actually really endearing, but she resists, thinking she’s still cooling off from it.

“Thank you, sunbae,” she bows instead. She even tries to insist she pay her share of the ride, but Joohyun refuses, saying it’s what she gets for thinking it was a good idea to walk home alone.

Finally, a black Sedan pulls up to the curb and the driver winds down his window. “KakaoBlack for Bae Joohyun?” He checks, looking as ready as both girls are to go home and crash for the night. 

The girl nods, opening the door for Seungwan to get into the backseat and climbing in after her.

Grand streaks of neon dance across the car windows, falling behind as quickly as they appear. Seungwan tears her gaze from the rapid city lights when she hears her name. 

An almost child-like excitement masks Joohyun’s usually steely features when Seungwan hums questioningly, not having heard what she’d said. “I said unnie,” she repeats, “you should call me unnie now that we’re closer. Honestly, I wanted to correct you this evening, but I never got the chance to. Aish, everyone was so noisy.”

The topic of noise has Joohyun distracted, suddenly popping off on a tangent about how sound-proof couple study rooms should be integrated in cafes and student-dense areas alike. But Seungwan finds it hard to focus on anything other than those glowing eyes and that tiny, lopsided smile.

For the rest of the journey, the two exchange stories of their university life experiences, life outside classrooms and even a few laughs; mostly on Joohyun’s part at how Seungwan seems to have the most prankish roommates slash best friends in the world. She loses it at ‘carbonara shampoo’, finding the idea wickedly genius and hilariously absurd altogether. Uncontrollable cackling booms in the backseat and Seungwan can’t help but giggle too, ears saturated with Joohyun’s chimerical laughter.

Eventually, the street lights and the houses start looking familiar and they’re pulled into a student apartment lobby before either of them knows where the time went. Joohyun can see the grumpy ajumma at reception wearing a frown, but she doesn't know it’s because someone’s gone over curfew. Again.

“Goodnight Seungwan.”

“Goodnight… unnie.” Seungwan wishes, ignoring the way their new closeness unfolds her heart like a secretly passed note. “Stay safe, and message me when you get back!”

Making to get out of the car, she flinches when she’s unable to fully stand up. Gulping, she glances over her shoulder to see Joohyun holding her back by her bag straps. In her sleepy state, the younger can’t tell if that intently searching gaze is serious or not.

“By the way, when you were looking into the cafe from outside this evening, you weren’t checking Jennie or Sooyoung out, were you?”

Seungwan shakes her head truthfully. “Why?”

“Good.” A cat-like smirk graces her lips and Seungwan’s stomach drops. “Just making sure.”

. . . . .

[whentherewerebicycles]

y’all something is so broken with my ability to sleep and I just *incoherent screaming for one thousand years* ahhhHHHH. I lay awake for at least 2 hrs 15 min last night after bedtime (I hide all the clocks so I’m not staring at them or thinking about them but I do allow myself to check the time once per night if I am still not asleep and have to get up to use the bathroom). I suspect that during that time I am not fully awake—I did an overnight lab sleep study once years ago and it said I spent a long time moving in and out of stage 1 sleep ie the “dozing off” period that is only supposed to last for a few minutes—but it sure feels like being awake and it also just cuts out a huge chunk of the night where I should be getting NREM (healing stage) and REM sleep (dreams), which I knoooooow must be happening because I wake up with every small injury or strain feeling sooo much more sore and painful, and my whole body just feels like it’s taken a beating instead of rested.

I WILL NOT DESPAIR!!! (she says, a bit despairingly.) okay the breathing and visualization stuff works, I can feel it working, I can feel all 2.5 fucking hours of it working, but there’s still SOMETHING that is making it hard for me to transition from that light drifting relaxed state into deep sleep. the good thing is that after a lifetime of ~delayed sleep onset~ I have learned not to panic about it in the moment because it’ll just wake my brain up more and make it harder to fall asleep. but like while not panicking is good it also does not fix the underlying issue aghh. ok jes think what can you do.

I know I am ultra sensitive to caffeine so maybe I need to carefully examine the caffeine content of the foods I’m eating to see if there’s anything that might be disrupting sleep there

I know I have a lot of sleep disturbances at certain phases in my cycle but it’s hard to track because my cycle can be so irregular. but maybe this is something to research—if it’s something hormonal are there things I should be doing/not doing or eating/not eating?

I have been okayish at putting away screens an hour before bed but there are some nights where I’m wearing my blue light glasses and I convince myself it’s basically fine. it’s probably not fine. I think at some point I want to experiment with a complete screens fast after different times at night—maybe a week where at 8pm I lock up my phone and laptop somewhere so I have 2.5 screen free hours before lights out. I need to do this just to collect some DATA because having that info will help me figure out if it’s that or something else

I exercise 60-120 min a day and I’m careful not to exercise within 3 hours of bedtime so I know it’s not an exercise thing. but maybe I can see if there are tweaks to be made there like I know the morning walk in sunlight is supposed to help your circadian rhythms normalize

I know I’m not always great about ONLY sleeping in bed and ONLY getting into bed when I’m ready to sleep. this is partly just living in a small space where there aren’t that many places to be! but maybe I can look into creating a cozy reading nest in the corner or something so I have a nice place to hang out but can reserve my bed as a space I am only in from 10:30pm-7am. hmmm ok maybe I will think about this today

at some point I need to do the full cognitive behavioral therapy insomnia thing where you deliberately practice carefully scheduled phases of sleep deprivation to force your body to reset but god I do not look forward to it! maybe this summer when I don’t have to be alert for student meetings

I also want to explore napping at some point I’ve never been able to nap but it’s maybe mostly because I’m terrified that napping will affect my ability to sleep at night. but maybe this summer I will experiment with some diff sleep/wake cycles throughout the day and night to see if a mid-afternoon nap would help

I know this is probably at its core a combination of so-so sleep hygiene practices (which I can fix) and my chronotype/innate circadian rhythm (which I can trick a little bit but probably can’t fundamentally change). my mother and grandmother have exactly the same pattern of delayed sleep onset / easily disrupted mid-night sleep / sensitivity to hormonal shifts and we are all extreme night owls who have to live on an early bird schedule. it is FRUSTRATING to know that but also slightly comforting because I feel like it helps to think of sleep issues not as “something is broken inside me ahhHHHHhhHhhhhhh WHY” and more as, like, something about my body’s natural temporal rhythms does not align with the schedule or temporal rhythms of the society I live in and I just need to figure out how to bring those two things a little closer together ahHhhHHH but okay, agh, time to face the day

[explodingcrenelation]

Quick personal update—I got my second vaccination shot yesterday and so far the symptoms aren’t too bad. Had a bit of a headache, soreness at the injection site (obviously), and experienced some lack of appetite (but no nausea). The worst symptom was insomnia last night. I’d had no caffeine whatsoever, but I couldn’t get to sleep until the wee hours of the morning, no matter how hard I tried. I had some chills when I finally did sleep, too, but those passed pretty quickly. Today I’ve felt generally good, despite being worn out from lack of sleep.

Fic update— I want to start posting small, maybe weekly, progress updates keeping people posted on progress for Nowhere to Go But Home. Maybe every weekend? I’m hoping that will start to give me a weekly focal point to work towards so that my efforts to write become easier and more regular. 

This got long, so more is behind the cut: 

Lemme be real, the updates will probably start out very small and sparse. There’s a lot left to do and my time is pretty full to start with. Part of the writing process is retraining my brain more towards positive creative habits (and away from addictive, time-wasting habits), and that takes time and practice. 

BUT. That being said. I did work on the fic a bit this last week. I’ve got my to-do list for the fic sketched out and divided up into bite-sized pieces, which really helps. I have chunks of the last few chapters written as well as an outline sketched out already. This last week I did some work on revising the story outline because some details weren’t sitting right with me. Specifically, I’m tweaking Steve’s next chapter because I want to dig more into his emotional state. Steve is always the hardest of the three for me to write. I don’t want to break him, but I do want him to get some character growth out of what they’re all going through. (Please work with me, Steve lol)

And yes! So. It’s not much, but the story’s on my mind and I did something about it, and that’s still better than I’ve been doing for the last three, uh, four years. So hopefully the goal for next week is to have the outline for Steve’s role fully sorted out, and then we’ll go from there.