#how to get yourself cancelled 101

[nothinggathers]

Oh! I wanna ask number 16 and 18 for violence ask game 👉👈

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

LOL I'm almost nervous about this one. Fanon Gavin. Just... fanon Gavin. I don't get it. He's very much a one dimensional prick in the game and that gives you so much scope to employ him as an antagonist, and there's so much you can do with him in that regard! The set up in the game gives damn good reasons for Gavin to treat androids like shit, and it implies he's very much the one to play Bad Cop with criminals, and...

Fanon says he has a sort of affectionately antagonistic relationship with the stone cold murderbot and has cats, and basically puts him through Hank's arc and I feel like that misses out on so much of Gavin's potential as a character. He's a very blank slate in a lot of respects, and I get the appeal of putting this dipshit in the fandom snow globe and giving him a thorough shake, but I don't personally want to see him redeemed. I'd rather see him continue to be a prick and an obstacle, just one that nuts up and does his job in a way that sometimes has him pointing in the same direction as the likes of Hank so Gavin can be a prick and obstacle in a way that benefits the good guys sometimes. 18. it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on…

Josh, and I'll admit I do this too. We all know that North got dealt a raw deal by the narrative, and that Simon is quietly one of the more complex characters in Jericho. Kamski gets a decent amount of attention although I wish more people played with him as an outright antagonist out for his own ends instead of portraying him as obtusely benevolent in the background. Chloe doesn't get enough attention but that's my personal biases at play. Everyone accepts that Amanda is a really cool concept that is drastically underserved by the canon.

But Josh.... Our man Josh. He's a pacifist, and he's a university lecturer model, and...

I think out of all the androids in Jericho, Josh is the one that's looked into the civil rights movements that have worked in recorded history and how they're viewed by people now, and that's why he espouses the opinions he does. There are a lot of parallels between the android push for their rights and the Black Civil Rights movement, (and a lot of entirely justified criticism of the way the game handled all of that 'cause god damn DC, really?) and I really think that something could be made out of those parallels being a tactical choice made by Jericho, with Josh at the head of it, specifically to trigger those memories and equate the androids to something familiar and human in the minds of the general human population. And of course it doesn't happen because I'm pretty sure that DC didn't put that much thought into it, but I'd love to see someone better placed than me reframe that narrative as Jericho Knew What It Was Doing instead of "Yeah, DC is a huge piece of shit". (He is. Like I said, I doubt this was intentional on the canon's part. The canon handles this terribly because DC is a giant steaming turd of a human)

Josh is a university lecturer. He's used to getting humans to challenge the way they think and make them see things from different angles, it's kind of what he was built for. If anyone should be directing the revolution with a view to historical events it should be him.

Although I guess arguably that's canon sleeping on Josh, not just fandom.

[mudstoneabyss]

so much of my blogging whenever I have classes is complaining about them but erm. in my defense they're stressful and overwhelming

[starseedfxofficial]

The Secret Sauce to Surviving Sideways Markets: Genetic Algorithms Unleashed So, you find yourself staring at your trading screen, and the market isn’t doing much of anything. The sideways market can feel like the financial version of watching paint dry, except it’s paint that might steal your money if you’re not careful. But what if there was a game-changing way to not only endure but thrive in these dull times? Enter genetic algorithms (GA) – the trading equivalent of evolving superpowers to outsmart a sideways market. The Sideways Struggle: Why Most Traders Get Stuck When it comes to sideways markets, most traders get caught up in the endless loop of frustration. You’re ready for action, but all you get is a boring, zig-zag price movement with no clear trend to follow. It’s like getting all dressed up for a party that got canceled – and the only thing left is the disappointment of market indecision. Many traders try to force trades, only to get chopped up by false signals. It’s understandable – we all want movement, direction, something to bite into. But that’s when we need to remember: patience is a position too. And guess what? In comes our secret weapon – genetic algorithms, which can help you step back and let the machine do the evolution while you work on making better decisions. Genetic Algorithms 101: Darwin, But Make It Trading Let’s start with the basics. A genetic algorithm is like the nerdy cousin of natural evolution, minus the gazillion years it usually takes. It’s all about survival of the fittest, but for your trading strategy. Think of it as evolving a bunch of different trade setups to find the best combination – the ultimate ninja team of strategies that can help you tackle a sideways market effectively. Using GAs in trading is not just about creating a one-size-fits-all setup. Instead, it’s about creating generations of trading approaches that evolve over time, discarding the losers and amplifying the winners. It’s like if you had a team of trading interns, but only the smartest ones got promoted, and their offspring got better each time – eventually, you’d have a team so sharp, even Warren Buffet would raise an eyebrow. The Secret Weapon: How GAs Can Dominate the Sideways Market The challenge of a sideways market is knowing how to profit from small moves without getting eaten by false signals. The good news? Genetic algorithms thrive in this uncertainty. Here’s how they help: 1. Adaptation at Lightning Speed Instead of you manually adjusting your strategy, GAs evolve based on the market’s behavior. Think of it like hiring a robot butler that also happens to be a genius at figuring out the quirks of a frustratingly flat market. As price moves sideways, the GA quickly adapts the rules to optimize for that particular environment, finding opportunities that manual traders might miss. 2. Testing, Testing, and More Testing One of the biggest advantages of genetic algorithms is their ability to backtest a large number of combinations efficiently. They’re like those speed daters at an event – except they’re matching strategies to market conditions instead of cheesy pickup lines. This gives you an edge by providing statistical proof of what works when the market is sideways, effectively reducing your risk while increasing your opportunities. 3. Multi-Strategy Synergy The beauty of GAs is their ability to combine multiple strategies and test them as a single coherent plan. You might end up with a bit of mean-reversion, a touch of breakouts, and a sprinkle of trend fading – all in one harmonious cocktail. That cocktail is your key to squeezing profits out of a sluggish market, where individual strategies may fail if they’re too rigid. Ninja Tactics for Sideways Markets Now, it’s all well and good to say that genetic algorithms are great, but what’s the practical takeaway here? 1. Know When to Fold ‘Em In a sideways market, staying out can be the smartest trade of all. Remember: patience is a position. Use GAs to automate your trade entries, but more importantly, automate not entering trades that don’t meet strict criteria. This way, you can avoid the temptation of low-probability setups. 2. Fine-Tuning the Fittest Even the fittest strategies need maintenance. When your GA evolves a successful strategy, don’t treat it as set-it-and-forget-it. Keep your algorithm engaged in continuous optimization. The market’s conditions can subtly change, and having an evolving strategy means you’re always one step ahead. 3. Position Sizing Magic Sideways markets are notorious for sudden spikes that can take you out if you’re overleveraged. Genetic algorithms can optimize your position sizes based on recent volatility and risk tolerance. Imagine having an AI assistant that keeps reminding you not to buy the big bowl of ramen when you know you’re only hungry for the small one. GA’s help you right-size your trades so that sudden volatility doesn’t ruin your day. Case Studies: How GAs Made It Happen Case Study #1: The Tech-Driven Turtle A trader named Marcus (let’s call him “The Tech-Driven Turtle”) struggled with choppy sideways markets. He programmed a genetic algorithm that tested mean-reversion strategies against a trailing volatility filter. The result? He not only managed to minimize his losses during indecisive price action but even captured enough short bursts to generate steady monthly profits. Marcus was elated; as he said, "It felt like having an algorithmic Sherlock Holmes catching profits in the shadows!" Case Study #2: The Triple Threat Another trader, Lisa, used genetic algorithms to combine a mean-reversion system, a support/resistance bounce strategy, and a trend-fading approach. With this Frankenstein of a trading system, she managed to turn what was previously a no-trade zone into a profitable playground. Instead of stressing over each small dip and bump, she let her GA handle the work. Her results improved, and she got to enjoy weekends without obsessing over market indecision. Pitfalls and How to Sidestep Them Genetic algorithms sound amazing, right? But hold your horses; they’re not foolproof. Like buying those super discounted shoes you thought you’d wear, using GAs without proper understanding can lead to disappointment. 1. Overfitting Alert This is the biggie. Genetic algorithms can become too attached to specific historical data, producing a system that doesn’t generalize well to new market conditions. It’s like training for a marathon on flat terrain and then expecting to crush it in the hills – reality often has other plans. 2. Complexity vs. Practicality Sometimes, a GA might create strategies so complex that they’re impossible to execute efficiently. Keep it simple – if your evolved strategy looks like it needs an MIT graduate to execute it, you’re over-complicating things. Closing Thoughts: Evolution Isn’t Just for Biology Trading sideways markets is tough. They’re unpredictable, unexciting, and can leave traders banging their heads against their keyboards. But with genetic algorithms in your toolkit, you can adapt to what the market is doing, evolve your trading strategies, and come out on top. It’s not about fighting the market’s boring behavior – it’s about evolving alongside it, and maybe even sneaking a few steps ahead. And remember, the next time you’re tempted to overtrade in a sideways market, let your GA do the work. Take a step back, let evolution do its magic, and maybe make yourself a nice cup of tea. Sometimes, the smartest move is the one where you let the machines sweat the small stuff. —————– Image Credits: Cover image at the top is AI-generated Read the full article

[flirting-with-psychology]

101 curious questions. Let’s talk.

What’s your biggest insecurity?

Being awkward

What’s your biggest physical insecurity?

My weight

Do you like the person you feel like you’re becoming?

Not as much as I had hoped to by this point in my life

What’s the one thing you feel like everyone knows how to do except you?

Make friends

Do you suffer from anxiety/depression/PTSD/other?

Anxiety probably

Where were you born?

Colorado

What do you think people say about you when you’re not around?

Idk, I'm not sure if they talk about me

Do you look up to anyone in your life?

Not actively

What makes you feel guilty? How do you resolve it?

Not being a good girlfriend or daughter. I don't really resolve it

What’s your boring hobby (that you still enjoy anyway)?

Social media

Do you like who you are around people?

Not really, I'm too shy and awkward except for a few people I feel comfortable with

Do you know what your plans for the future are? Do you like them?

Haha noooo

Tell a secret.

I'm not sure I really have a good one

What petty event are you still embarrassed about?

My dad took me to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show, and I guess in his day everyone danced to the Time Warp, so he dragged me up to the stage but no one else came up so it was just us and the performers

Do you get wanderlust? Where do you want to go?

Yeah, I'd like to go to Europe. Also stay in those cool really expensive hotels that only rich people can afford even a night in

Romantically, do you prefer men, women, both, any/don’t care, or are you aromantic?

Men

How many parents do you have?

2

Do they get along?

Yes, but they are divorced

Do you swear?

Fuck yeah

How many siblings do you have? Where are you in relation to them?

None

Have you ever had to hurt anyone emotionally?

I'm sure

Has anyone ever hurt you emotionally?

Yes

Do you believe in an afterlife?

No

What lies do you believe anyways?

It's fun to suspend disbelief for reality tv

Would you consider yourself poor, average, or wealthy?

Below average

What does your favorite tattoo mean to you? Or if you had to get a tattoo, what would it be? Why?

I don't have any. I thought about getting a heart on my arm because I wear my heart on my sleeve, or "Carpe Diem" because I like the quote

How many groups of friends do you have? How do they vary?

A couple main ones that I play DnD with

Do you work? If so, what do you do? Do you like your job?

I work for a TV company, it's pretty cool

Do you want to have a partner for life?

Yes

Who have you never forgiven? Why?

Jerks from school, never saw a reason to be friends with them and they never tried to be nicer to me

What are you looking forward to right now?

My trip to my boyfriend's parents' house for Christmans

If you could change one thing about your past, what would it be?

Wish I had figured out how to date in high school or college

What’s your favorite color in context?

What context? I think teal looks best on me

What unpopular opinion do you have?

Cancel culture is excessive and it's ok to like something without supporting everything about the person/people who made it

What’s the last good book you’ve read?

Mistborn (reread) and Shadow and Bone (1st time read)

What’s your favorite book?

Harry Potter

Favorite poem?

Not sure

Favorite movie?

Back to the Future

Favorite song?

All Too Well by Taylor Swift

Favorite food/type of food?

Chocolate or cheese

What kind of food activates your gag reflex?

Lots of foods, I'm pretty picky

What do you feel like you’re missing from your life right now?

Direction

If you could choose your own name, what would it be? Why?

I did choose my own name

What’s the earliest dream you can remember having?

Maybe a recurring nightmare about hooks coming out of my ceiling

What’s the most recent dream you can remember having?

I accidentally broke the record I got for my boyfriend for Hanukkah

What’s the most beautiful dream you can remember having?

The magical kingdom I became queen of

Do you have a car? What kind is it?

Subaru Forester

Are you afraid of death?

A little, but it's not really on my list of pressing things to worry about

Have you ever attempted to take your own life?

No

Describe your dream job?

Being a student forever

Are you religious/spiritual?

No

What do you do to calm yourself down?

Lately, play solitaire

What’s the most annoying thing that happens to you on a regular basis?

Going to my job

Do you live in an urban, suburban, or rural area?

Suburban-urban

What’s the one talent you wish you had?

Being able to talk to anyone

Do you do well or struggle in school?

Did well

Do you have a speech impediment?

Not really, but we joke that I have a "speak impediment" because I do screw up words sometimes and when I asked my friends if I had a speech impediment I accidentally said speak impediment

What’s the most terrifying thing that’s ever happened to you?

Not sure

What’s the happiest day of your life you’ve ever had?

Marching band state finals senior year of high school was a good one

Early, on time, or late?

Late

What quirks do you have?

Probably several

Do you wish you could start tomorrow with a clean slate? Why/why not?

Not really, I don't know what I would do with it

Do you ever get paranoid?

Yeah

Do you believe in human souls? Where do you think they come from?

Not really, but I am curious about where consciousness comes from

What’s one mistake that you’ll never make again?

Agreeing to run the music at a wedding

What fandoms do you belong to?

Taylor Swift and Choices are the ones I participate in a bit

What are your old URLs?

I think my old one was shineslikestars or something?

How often would you say you lie? Why?

Rarely, and only little white lies like "yeah you look good in that"

Do you like the kind of attention you get from other people?

Usually, but I don't get enough attention

Are you in a relationship? What’s your favorite thing about your partner?

Yes, he is a really good cuddler

Are you concerned about the environment?

Not as much as I should be

What stresses you out more than anything else?

The future

Credit, debit, EBT, or cash?

Debit

Who’s your favorite historical figure?

F. Scott Fitzgerald

What’s that movie you know is bad but enjoy anyways?

Not Another Teen Movie

Do you masturbate (be honest)?

Yeah

What’s your kink?

Not gonna answer that

What’s one thing you don’t feel comfortable doing around your friends?

Doing some of my more OCD hobbies like making lists

What’s your most prized possession?

My stuffed dog Bruno

Are you ever proud of yourself?

Yeah

Do you ever tear yourself down?

Yeah

Do you ever tell people how you’re feeling?

Yeah

Do you like when people guess how you’re feeling?

I usually just tell them. If I don't, it means I'm hiding it on purpose to not make the situation about me

Are you worried about someone close to you? Why?

Not particularly, but my parents a little since they are getting older with health problems

What kind of interview questions do you answer to yourself?

What does this mean?

If you could meet anyone, living, dead, or unborn, who would it be?

Taylor Swift

If you had a clone of yourself and the two of you didn’t have enough resources, would you get along?

I probably wouldn't get along with her even if we did have enough resources

What kinds of things confuse you?

Computer code

Do you feel too hot or too cold more often?

Too hot

If you had to live in any past time period, which would it be?

Medieval (if I was upper class) or 80s

What’s your sign? you feel like it matches your personality?

Sagittarius. It doesn't particularly match

Do you believe in astrology?

No

Do you like extreme activities, like white water rafting, surfing, roller coasters, etc.?

I like roller coasters but I don't put them in the same category as extreme activites, which I don't really like

Are you waiting for someone to save you?

Not really, but maybe a tiny bit

Can you remember the last time you made a deep personal connection with someone?

I sort of did with one of my coworkers at the work party last night

Do you like where you grew up?

Yeah

What’s your favorite word?

I don't have one

Would you consider yourself an interesting person?

Not especially

Which people in your life do you wish knew you better?

My friend group

Are you okay?

Pretty ok

What’s been going through your mind lately?

The future

[clubdeals]

Reasons people don't from you

Reasons people don't from you

No Need: "No need, no sale," as stated in "Selling 101." There won't be a sale if your prospect truly doesn't need what you have to offer, so don't waste your time. I discussed this in a previous blog post and used the example of trying to sell pet food to someone who doesn't own a pet. Simply said, they don't require pet food.

Many business owners claim to be looking for "anybody," yet not everyone needs what they have to offer. Hopefully, you conduct some pre-meeting planning and are aware of your prospect's needs before the meeting, so you are not in this group. Before meeting with your prospect, you may now conduct the necessary research thanks to social media and the internet. In the past, this was much more difficult. This is a crucial step that, when completed correctly, positions you for success before the encounter. You can also cancel the appointment in advance if you decide they are simply not a good fit for you. allowing you the time to focus on your best possible scenario.

No Urgency: Have you ever heard a prospect say, "Let me think about it" following a stellar sales presentation? The fact that it must be the most typical objection of all suggests that you will have it. How long do you believe they'll consider it? If you're lucky, they might give your suggestion a minute or two of thought in our hectic environment.

You have a far higher chance of closing the deal if you prepare ahead of time and include responses to common concerns in your presentation. The sooner we can install this amazing product or you begin utilising our service, the sooner you will be saving money, and and and time, getting better outcomes, etc., for example, if you can show them how your product or service saves them money.

When they say, "Let me think about it," you may then go back to your presentation's "sooner is better" section and remind them of the benefits of "hurrying up." If they continue to say, "Let me think about it," make sure you have a strong follow-up procedure in place. You must remind them that they still have an issue to solve or a desired solution and that you are the person to turn to; it is not their responsibility to remember you.

No Desire: People generally buy what they desire, not necessarily what they need, according to the first law of selling. The promise of a solution to a problem they have or a solution they want but don't have, in other words, must make them want your product or service.

If you sell vehicles and a customer wants a new car, you have already gotten over this hurdle. They still need to be convinced that they want the brand or model you sell. Yet, you might need to fan the desire if you're selling something a little less glamorous. What then does your prospect want? The straightforward response to this is that they demand a fix for a situation they don't want. You should be able to identify their issue by carefully listening and asking the correct questions, then you can explain your solution in a way that appeals to them.

No Trust: If your potential customer doesn't trust you, they will never buy from you. Because of this, you must ask yourself, "Why don't they trust me?" Follow these 5 crucial suggestions if you want to win over your consumers' trust and keep them as long-term clients:

Steer clear of pitching them a solution that isn't in their best interests.

You just may not always have the best option available. If such is the case, it is always preferable to be upfront with the consumer rather than suggesting something that you are aware will fall short of providing the customer with the desired result.

Never exaggerate a product or service's characteristics, benefits, or advantages.

Consumers don't want a product or solution that mostly works as intended or that just about meets their needs. Let them determine if the suggested remedy will work for them after giving them the complete, unvarnished truth.

Don't make any promises you can't keep.

Some salespeople find it incredibly difficult to refuse a customer's request. It is a recipe for disaster to promise the customer a specific solution with specified features and benefits by a given deadline when you know you cannot deliver.

Always be respectful when discussing the competition, if and when you must.

Some salespeople appear to believe that "trash-talking" their competitors will improve the image of their goods and services. Typically, the buyer will just perceive them as petty and immature.

Finally, maintain your word when you make promises.

Building trust is your first goal. There are many ways to achieve this, but one of the most crucial methods is to consistently follow through on your commitments and do it promptly.

No Money: If your potential customer has no money, I mean truly no money, you don't want their business. The majority of the time, "no money" simply means you haven't persuaded them that using their money to buy your product or service at this time is a better use of their resources than all the other things they could do with it.

For instance, if someone says, "We don't have any money in the budget at this time," or anything similar. You might have to ask, "How can we assist you to fit this into your budget at this moment, and have you started utilising this fantastic opportunity?" Do you have flexible payment arrangements that we might use in this particular situation?

You might also inquire as to whether funds from another budget can be shifted to cover their expenses. Make sure to inquire frequently. Not usually, "no money" equates to "no money."

As a salesperson or business owner, it is your responsibility to assist the customer in getting beyond these barriers so they may benefit from your excellent offer.

Hope you get to know why people are not buying from you

If you want to know more about sales and marketing then follow @clubdeals

[iced-nct]

Hi bestie! i think it'll be nice if bestie writes fluff for us Jungwoo stans. Cuz all the smuts are turning me upside down. Thanks!

Hi bestie, I'm so sorry this took so long! I had a wonderful case of writers block for a hot minute! But you ordered fluffy Jungwoo, and I am here to deliver! I hope you enjoy it! Feel free to leave feedback!

(Also friends, this is like a lil announcement as well. I write primarily for Dream, but I will write for all NCT members upon request!)

Pairing: Boyfriend!Jungwoo x GN Reader

Word Count: 626 (tiny but mighty)

Warnings: language (I wrote 'ass' one time. This is literally the softest thing ever) Mentions of food/eating

Synopsis: Being sick is no fun. But Jungwoo will always take care of you :)

Being sick and bed-ridden was not the ideal way to spend your Friday night. Especially knowing that you had to cancel date night with your boyfriend, Jungwoo. He was so sweet and understanding, asking if you needed him to bring anything over for you. It was a thoughtful offer but you had to refuse, there was no way you were going to allow him to catch whatever cold you had.

Fading in and out of consciousness while switching between being freezing cold, then alarmingly hot. You had finally managed to settle yourself enough when you heard the door to your small studio apartment open. Standing on the welcome mat was your boyfriend, grocery bags in hand.

“You look horrible.” Jungwoo observed you from where he stood, before walking to the kitchen to unload whatever he brought over.

“You don’t say.” you deadpanned, speaking even felt like too much effort.

Jungwoo moved easily through your apartment, gathering everything he needed onto a serving tray to bring to your bed. He offered up a bowl of hot broth alongside a glass of water and a bottle of medicine for fevers. “Come on, sit up. You should get some liquids back into you. And some medicine.” He spoke softly, helping to prop you up against your pillows.

“Jungwoo. You're going to get sick” you whined at him. He only shook his head while measuring out how much of the medicine you needed.

Reluctantly, you swallowed the awful tasting liquid and followed it with a small sip of water. Your boyfriend checked your temperature, frowning at the results. “You’re at 101 degrees.”

“Well, no wonder I feel like ass.” You wheezed, taking another small drink of water. “What do you prescribe, doctor?”

Jungwoo chuckled at your attempt of humor “lots of bed rest, liquids, and medicine.” He lifted a spoonful of broth to your lips for you to eat.

You let him spoon feed you the broth, not wanting to use any extra effort to feed yourself. Besides, if it made Jungwoo feel better, you’d do it ten times over. By the time you were done the broth and glass of water, your boyfriend had tidied up and put a movie on for you to fall asleep to.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Juwoos” you yawned, before snuggling down into your blankets. Unbeknownst to you, Jungwoo had taken up residence under the covers next to you, pulling you against his chest.

Upon waking up in the morning you felt vastly improved compared to last night. You rolled over to see Jungwoo sweating profusely, half under the covers. Hurriedly you checked his temperature, confirming what you already knew would happen. This time it was your turn to prepare his medicine and water, waking him gently when you were ready.

“Jungwoo” you whispered, nudging him gently “You need to take some medicine”

His eyes opened and he scowled at you “babe. You got me sick.” you handed him the medicine to take and his glass of water.

“I feel like an ‘I told you so’ is warranted” You smirked down at him.

“I can’t believe you got me sick and now you’re rubbing it in” he whined.

You pressed a soft kiss to his forehead “You big baby. It just means we get lots of bed rest together today.”

Jungwoo pulled you down to rest beside him in the bed, kissing you deeply, before pulling away to smile at you. “You totally planned this as soon as I said I was sick, didn’t you?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

He only pulled you tighter against his chest, “oops.” he laughed. You rolled your eyes, settling in for a relaxing day of lounging around and feeding your scheming boyfriend soup.

[baestruly]

room to care

───────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

❝𝗶 𝗽𝗮𝘆 𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸.❞

wc - 1.7k , saebyeok x fem!reader 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - blood, knives, stabbing, angst(?), deok-su

( 𝗌𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌 ⋫ 𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖔𝖘𝖘𝖎 ) - ENEMIES TO LOVERS ?

⤷ DURING THE chaotic night, you get cut with a players knife. as you try to fight the pain, someone who you didn't expect──noticed you were acting different.

──────

      YOUR SHAKEN FORM lay painfully on your back as the sharp stinging in your side felt like it was getting worse and worse with each minute. there was no way you were falling asleep, not only from the pain in your side but the anxiety in which chaos would break again.

the night prior when the lights went out, everyone went completely ballistic. fighting, punching, kicking, stabbing—to try and kill each other for cash. since everyone here was worth more dead than alive, there was no doubt trouble between each player would stay at ease.

you stayed near 456, 199, 218, and 001 to be hidden and to be in a crowded area with a few others so you could be hidden and that someone wouldn't see you as an easy kill.

at one point, 199 had noticed you close behind them even with the flashing lights and he immediately tapped the person beside him as he spun around and got ready to defend himself, also alerting the two others in the process. 001 had seemed to be gone.

you frantically explained to 199 that you weren't a threat and you weren't going to hurt them, and after a few consecutive flashes of bright light letting you see his face fully, he agreed to let you in their group.

not long after 067—who you really despised, came to join the four of you after. you didn't expect to see her again, and especially over a death game like this.

001, who was with the three earlier had been standing on the top bunk of a bunk bed, calling out to stop the madness, and thankfully as soon as he said that multiple guards burst into the room to stop it all.

during all of that, you were so quick to take into account how 067 was apparently with your group, and how she could and would kill you at that moment, also seeing the sharp glint in her eyes as she glared at you with her pocket knife clutched by her side.

number 101 unexpectedly had come up behind you and pushed you to the ground as well as the action of leaving your jacket and tee shirt under it to lift slightly, revealing your skin on your side. when you frantically started to get up, anxiety pumping through your veins—he slashed the cold blade of a small knife against your side near your rib cage.

you stay there, on the ground—trying to comprehend if that just happened as your body froze. it was like you were glued to the floor and even though you were panicking, you didn't make the effort to try to get up—and that's when it all hit.

a searing pain that felt like your flesh was burning where the man had dug the knife some-what deep into your skin, shot down your side. your heart pounded, you could hear it in your ears and it canceled all the yelling and screaming in the room with the flashing lights, not helping your now dazed and blurry vision—immediately making you feel light-headed as you sweat from the adrenaline.

as you fought to stay awake, a ringing sound faded in—which overpowered your fast heartbeat. all you remembered was getting a few kicks to the side before someone else rushed over to you and kneeled down to your level as you then laid effortlessly on the ground in pain.

──

though when you woke up, the lights were back on and you were still with the rest of your group. everything was the same, except for the few people who had gotten killed in the madness and the still piercing pain in your side.

and now you are here. laying useless as you didn't think at this moment—you could go on any longer. you told yourself you would try to hold off the pain through the next game but when you found out it was a tug of war those plans really changed. you wanted to do the best for your team and you needed to help because if they lost, you lost. even though you didn't think you could fight any longer, you didn't want to be one of those people who screws it up for everyone as they each needed the money for important reasons. even if they were complete bitches, like saebyeok—everyone needed the money.

once you won against the other team, you had been so relieved but by the end of the long day, tired and hurt—you've had enough.

you exhale heavily, and saebyeok who was a bunk across from you—turned her head and stared at you attentively but sharply, before furrowing her eyebrows and walking over to you.

head turned the other way, you didn't notice at first until you heard footsteps approaching and eventually stopping behind you. you quickly turn over but regret it from the quick action.

"f-" you cursed quietly, then met the gaze of a cold saebyeok standing before you.

"why the fuck are you over here?" you scowled in almost a whisper with a mixture of frustration but anger by her presence, still trying to keep your voice low in order not to wake the other players to cause chaos again.

"you've been acting different," she said flatly. was that a bad thing?—did she think you were setting up some crazy plan?

"how would you know how i originally act—?" you spat surprisingly but in an annoyed tone "—how would you know i've been acting differently if you apparently don't give a fuck about what i do."

to be fair, you had every right to think what you thought. why would she care.

the girl blinked and lowered her head. she hated herself for this and didn't know why—but she noticed herself being anxious when going onto every game. in addition to worrying about herself, she also worried about you. when she had finished cutting her cookie and showed it to the guard, she looked back at you as she was led out to see you shaking and not even halfway done. she had gone back to the big room, nervous if you would even come back. why would she want to see you again? you'd assume she'd never want to.

so at the moments, you were there, she would take quick gazes at you. sitting and watching you. it may have seemed like a threat if you noticed—how she was watching your every move like you were prey. but really she didn't mean any harm like you thought she always did.

though when she felt the fuzzy feeling in her stomach again, she quickly looked away.

"if you're hurt. you need to get help."

"who said I was hurt." you retorted, "besides, no one cares if you're hurt here saebyeok. are you delusional? have you not noticed we're participating in games where you die and the guards are helping whoever created this fucking thing. the players don't care, they want you dead because just you alone are worth more than 10,000 dollars. people were killing others last night because they don't care."

"I could kill you on the spot, right now and all that would happen is more money will fill up into that piggy bank. here, you're worth nothing but money."

"(Y/N). i know you're hurt, for fucks sake i watched you get cut with the knife." she retorted and her voice raised higher though was still cold, "—let alone helping you up when no one did. see, maybe not anyone here cares. but i do."

you didn't know what to say, but still stayed where you sat as you glared back at her. "if no one here is going to help you. i will."

saebyeok motions for you to follow her as you reluctantly get up. another burning sensation shoots down your side, and you wince with the sudden movement.

slowly following behind her, you walk across the sides of the room to prevent walking right through the middle and when you reach the big door, saebyeok hits her fist against it and soon enough a guard looks through the window. he opened the door slowly and saebyeok gave him a look before walking past him with you quickly behind her tracks.

──

saebyeok grabbed a piece of toilet paper from out of one of the stalls and walked to the sink to which she soaked it with water. now standing in front of you, you stared flatly at her but nodded to show you could let her help you, weak to protest anyways. saebyeok nodded in affirmation and lifted your green jacket as well as the white shirt under it just to reveal the deep wound on your body. lightly, she dabbed the wet cloth over it which covered it all in dark crimson that was still dripping from the small but deep wound.

she quickly ran to the stall and threw the piece of toilet paper in the garbage and walked out with another one doing the same thing. each time the cold water came in contact with your already stinging wound, you hissed as it felt like the knife had stabbed you right then and there from the pressure.

"i don't think this is going to work." you winced, looking down to see blood still flowing out steadily. it wasn't as much as before so it helped quite a bit, despite not having the liquid you need for cleaning wounds that you buy at the store.

she just scoffed and once the blood wasn't completely dripping out, she said, "take off your jacket." and continued applying water to it to absorb the blood.

hesitantly, you took it off and she tied it around your waist to cover it up.

"i don't know if that will help much." she said sternly, "—but we don't have anything else."

now the two of you stand in silence, the tension building as you look longingly into her eyes.

you felt something different, not the strong feeling of anger and annoyance just by her presence, but a warm feeling on how she really did want to help you, and that she cared. maybe you felt like that all along, but now—it was your moment to realize.

──

note !

ty for reading!

[happyheidi]

Can I ask for advice? I have been talking to this guy for a week (met online) and we decided to meet in person this week. I got really bad anxiety because he wanted to do some sexual stuff so I asked if he wants to push back the date or we cancel for now because it makes me anxious. Since I sent him that text he hasn’t answered. I asked him we can meet after all if he wants and that if he was mad but he didn’t answer at all and it’s been nearly two days. The initial date was supposed to be tomorrow night and now I don’t know if I should send one last text asking if we will meet or not. I don’t know why I am so attached when it’s been only one week and I feel so bad suggesting we cancel and I feel like now he hates me I just wish he at least gave a reply because idk what to do

Don’t send another text! And if he answers with a ‘yes’ say you changed your mind. Seriously. No one should ever EVER be made to feel pressured into doing anything sexual with anyone no matter how long you’ve known them - and considering you’ve known this person for such a short time, please look at this as the red flag that it is and consider yourself lucky to have dodged that bullet! Cus if he’s like this this early? Damn.. let’s just say it will not get better. This is manipulative, rude and selfish behavior 101! It would be best for your mental state to try to cut this guy out of your life (so in that regard I hope he doesn’t answer you cus I know that “magnetic pull” some ppl can have over u and it’s so damn hard to turn them away!!). I suffer from severe anxiety myself and when that is not respected? No. There’s no justification for that, in my book. Sounds like he’s looking for something other than what u are. You sound like the sweetest person and my heart would break if something happened to you other than understanding, patience and selfless love. Ur too good for this guy. Red flags everywhere! Dealing with anxiety you need a very reliable, understanding, patient person who doesn’t pressure you (which we all deserve really, not only those of us with anxiety). So pls try to put him out of your mind! Start talking to other ppl. Listen to some music that cheers u up, read something cozy, look at some highland cows or babydoll sheep and just please respect and love yourself enough to ditch even the thought of this dude! I hope this helped somewhat <3

Be as carefree as this little brat, that’s what I aspire to 😂 ♥︎

[nctsworld]

the yuletide boyfriend

✩‌ yangyang ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fluff | angst | smut | friends to lovers | ‌college au | 9k

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ your one wish this year is to not be single during the holidays. yangyang, as your best friend, takes it upon himself to be your temporary boyfriend. soon enough, both parties begin to wish this new arrangement could last beyond the holidays. // part of the x-mas in ncity collection WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ implied ‌anxiety attack (during the first part of dec 24th – skip if need to), smut, mutual m*sturbation, couch s*x, angst, miscommunication, swearing RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ mature TAGLIST ⇾ @infnteen​ 

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ this is my longest fic to date and also... might be my worst b/c i feel like the angst plot points don’t really make sense... but i hope y’all still enjoy!!! 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit!

NOVEMBER 30th

“So, anything special on your wishlist this year?”

Your best friend, Yangyang, asks you as you two sit next to each other on one of the many plush lounge couches in the Psychology building. It’s the usual lunch spot where you meet with him during your break between lectures.

The Psych building held much sentimental value for both of you because you met in Psych 101 during first year. Fast-forward three years later, neither of you expected to be the close friends that you are today.  

Chewing your sandwich, you ponder on his question for a bit. Through the transparent glass walls leading to outside, you see the trickle of students heading towards the building since class is about to start for the noon round of lectures. A couple, you assume by the tight hand-holding and nose kissing, giggles as they enter the building, glued to one another by the hip.

“Not really.” You drop your head downward to your lunch container, smiling to yourself. “I’m honestly just happy to have Mark in my life, especially at this point in the year.”

Yangyang nods in accordance and smiles too, understanding the story behind your sentiment.

The boyfriends you’ve had since first year have always broken up with you before the holidays, right before the end of November. Since you only became close during second year, Yangyang’s been around for two out of three of your cursed holiday break-ups.

To have Mark, your latest boyfriend, be with you and it being already December tomorrow, it was truly a blessing for you and a silver lining that maybe this was the year to break the curse. Yangyang was grateful too, wanting you to have the utmost happiness.    

You take another bite of your sandwich and tilt your chin toward the ramen eater.

“You?”

Yangyang slurps a few more noodles before he answers.

“I mean, the new Playstation would be nice,” he hums, mouth full.

Pointing the tip of your sandwich, you joke, “I’ll get it for you, but only if we share custody over it.”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head during a mid-slurp. “You know I can’t promise that.”

Both of you laugh in unison, living in the calm before the oncoming storm.

DECEMBER 5th

The E-Sports club for the university is hosting a party tonight and because Yangyang’s on one of the professional teams, he asked a few weeks ago if you and Mark wanted to attend. Of course you accepted; Mark also had some friends in the club.

However, when you text Yangyang in the afternoon, stating a change of mind, he knows something’s off.

Half an hour before the party starts, Yangyang decides to visit you. Thankfully you both lived on campus, but even if you lived across town, he’d still bus out to see how you were doing. He does it all the time to visit his family, anyway.  

In the living room, the two sudden knocks at your door startle you. Peering through the peephole, you see the usual sight of your best friend, his lips curled upward and thumbs tucked in his pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet.

It feels like an eternity for him when you unlock your door. The hinges squeal as you open it hesitatingly, your face barely appearing through the agape crack.

Immediately, his smile dissolves. Your face is drained and blood-shot eyes avoiding his own confront him.

Yangyang has only seen you cry twice in the three years he’s known you:

Once, when you were freaking the fuck out over potentially failing a course (but, on the upside, you ended up passing the final to save your grade).

The second time was at his house for a family dinner, when his mom accidentally added too much hot chili sauce to her homemade beef noodle soup (let’s just say you weren’t the only one crying that night).

Those were tears of dread and physical discomfort.

But this… this was crying he’s never seen from you before. His chest collapses inward, fearful of the reason behind your tears.  

His voice shakes as he asks, “What happened? Are you okay?”

Neither of you are major huggers and only exchange them on the rare occasion.

However, this situation screams the necessity of it, so Yangyang lunges towards you, the collision swinging the door out of the way. His arms embrace you like a large, warm blanket. Comforting and safe.  

Despite the affection, emptiness has taken over your body. Tonight, you’re a dead, empty shell of who you normally are.

You feel weak to the bone, but you muster up enough energy to scarcely raise your arms over his back to return the hug. Your eyes are dry from all the crying you’ve done all day, but apparently you have more tears left in you to spare.

Your eyelids snap shut and your jaw clenches.  

“Mark broke up with me.”

Your words are muffled into his shoulder, but Yangyang hears it crystal clear.  

You break down, sobbing out of control over the statement.

As aforementioned, Yangyang’s been around for your last two, now three, break-ups. Sure, he’s aware of how grumpy and distant you can get, but you never cried in front of him. You made an effort to never have him see you at your lowest point.

And yet, here you are, drowning him in your misery. Guilt washes over you for drenching his bomber jacket, but Yangyang couldn’t give two shits. His arms squeeze tighter while he rubs your back tenderly.

After several minutes pass and your waterworks abate, you peel away from him. You sniffle and rub your nose with the back of your hand.

“Sorry about cancelling last minute.”

“Hey, no need to apologize,” he whispers soothingly.

“I’m just… so fucking frustrated.”

With fatigued eyes, you drag yourself back inside your apartment. Yangyang discreetly closes the door behind him and hurriedly uses his feet to push off his shoes. As he does so, your mouth begins to run off while you slowly pace around aimlessly.  

“Fucking done with boyfriends, especially when they think it’s so fucking awesome to keep breaking up with me right before the holidays.”

He kicks off his last stubborn shoe and catches you raking your hands through your hair, pulling it back firmly. Your lips are trembling, along with your entire frame.  

“Like I get that I’m horrible and needy and emotional—”

His mouth opens, wanting to cut in to disagree with you with all his heart, but he clamps it back shut and swallows, allowing you to blow your steam off.

“—but can’t they wait until the fucking new year? I don’t know, or maybe just don’t date me in the first place! I don’t know, I don’t fucking know anymore. I’m just cursed, Yangyang...”

You flop down onto the couch and sink into the ocean of shiny pleather, shutting your eyes and trying to stop crying for the nth time. The deep sting behind your eyelids pain you, but it pains Yangyang more to watch the events unfolding ahead of him.  

Unsure of what to say, Yangyang walks around the room. His gaze falls on your laptop screen and he frowns at the mostly bare Word document that stares back at him:  

“WISHLIST:   -KEEP ONE (1) FUCKING BOYFRIEND DURING THE CHRISTMAS SEASON!!!!!!!! GOD FUCKING SDKMFLDS”

There are a few more lines below it with more profanities and keyboard smashing. He quickly darts away, a pang of guilt striking for invading your privacy.

Then, he turns to you on the couch again. You’re now covering your eyes with your forearm, pressing your lips together. His chest twists and his throat is arid as a desert.

You’re in shambles and he’s dying to pick up the shattered pieces of you, wants to glue you back together. On a regular basis, Yangyang’s a talking machine and can talk your ear off for hours, but right now, he doesn’t know what to say to you in your current state. He second-guesses himself, wonders if he’s even that great of a friend if he can’t comfort you in your worst times.

Blowing out a long sigh and removing your arm, you speak aloud, “You should get going to the party.”

Like awakening from a deep slumber, you rise up sluggishly and sit up on the couch, slouched over. The other figure in the room steps closer to you.  

“Sorry about your jacket, by the way,” you say. Your body is still, but your glazed eyes move to the dark spot on the middle of his shoulder. He glances at it and shrugs.  

“It’s better like this anyway,” he says with a gentle smile, and the tight knot in his heart softens at the flicker of your own smile, albeit a small one. Unfortunately, it fades in a few seconds. “I don’t want to leave you like this, though.”

You stare at the used, crumpled balls of tissues scattered on the living room table. Some also ended up on the floor. Break-ups are shit and 98% inevitable, but you know you’ll eventually get over it. You always do.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

He raises an eyebrow, as if asking, “Are you sure?” The lack of a worded reply causes you to notice the question written on his face.  

“Go,” you plead with a feeble laugh. “Have fun for me.”

Both of you head towards your front door again. Crossing your arms, you lean your head against the door frame and attempt a smile for your best friend.

“Thanks again for checking up on me.”

Yangyang nods with a half-smile, half-pout, “Of course.”

You give him a departing wave prior to sealing your door.

Usually, Yangyang would bus from your place to the student union building, where the party is being held. Instead, he zippers up his jacket and stuffs his fists into his pockets, opting to bear the early winter chill to walk his thoughts off. His blazing self-doubt burns at first, but he overcomes it by focusing on ideas to fix your accursed dating rut instead.  

Halfway through the walk, a light bulb moment occurs. A plan begins to brew on the surface of his mind and he thinks on it for the rest of the week.  

DECEMBER 11th

It’s been almost a week since you last saw Yangyang.

Finals started already, so classes were done for the semester and thus, your lunch meet-ups halted too. On top of that, since you were simultaneously moping and studying, you hadn’t really texted him much, nor had he, besides the occasional check-up text on how studying was going and random memes. Yangyang knew you preferred time alone to heal and he respected that.  

He also thought six days was enough time to get yourself back on your feet.  

Yangyang’s at your front door once again, but this time with two bowls of his mom’s beef noodle soup in tow.  

“Long time, no see,” you greet. Your tone is chipper, but your eyes look heavy, which could be partially from studying, Yangyang thinks. His smile deepens, content that you seem a lot better than the last time he visited.

“Delivery for two,” he raises the bag in his hand.

“And if I told you I already ate dinner?” you playfully retort.

The boyish man shrugs defeatedly, “Then I’ll tell my mom you hate her cooking—”

“You didn’t say it was your mom’s, Yangyang. Oh, my God,” you gasp, half-mockingly. You rush to grab the bags out of his hand and stroll towards your tiny kitchen. “Start off with that next time.”

As you remove the containers from the bag and onto the granite countertop, Yangyang shuts the door and takes his shoes off.  

“So, I’m gonna be upfront and say that I may have come here with a proposal.”

“Changed your mind about the shared custody of the Playstation?”

“I’m still considering that one.” Finally in his socks, he slings his backpack off his shoulder and plops it onto the couch along with his jacket. He stands next to you by the counter. “But it’s on the same page as that. Remember that day we were talking about wishlists?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum as you rip off the lid of one of the bowls. Blatant wisps fly upward and you inhale the savoury aroma, followed by a heavenly sigh.  

“Last time I was here… I might’ve seen what you wrote on your laptop.”

Your expression immediately changes into full-on cringe. You bring a palm over to your face.

“Oh, God. Let’s not talk about that. That was just weepy, lonely me talking.”

Yangyang pops off the lid for his bowl and steps into your kitchen, rummaging through your drawers for chopsticks. “So you’re telling me you don’t want a boyfriend for Christmas?”

Your hand flies off your face. Eyes widening, you spew, “Do you have a boyfriend in your pocket, ready for me to have?”

In your open hand, he places a pair of chopsticks into it. “Well, actually, I was thinking—”

Sternly, you point the chopsticks at him. “Don’t you dare set me up with your friends.”

He counters and points his at you, “Even better than that.”

With your interest piqued, you slide yourself onto the counter stool and mix the noodles around, anticipating to hear Yangyang’s fantastic plan. Your friend sits on the other stool, facing you. He pauses for a second, taking a deep breath.  

“Why don’t I be your boyfriend for the holidays?”

You freeze, and the noodles’ drips above your bowl are deafening to both individuals. Laughing awkwardly, you break your frozen state to drop your chopsticks and turn your head to look at him.

Sputtering, you say, “What?”

Unnerved, his mouth pinches to one side, thinking maybe he shouldn’t have even said anything in the first place. This was stupid, so stupid, but it’s out in the open and Yangyang already dug his grave—he may as well lay in it.  

“Well, for one, it’s something on your wishlist that I can easily get,” he pauses mid-sentence, glancing upward in thought. “Well, really, fill? Is that a better way to put it?”

He continues, eyes back on you, “And two, I’m not setting you up with a stranger or someone you wouldn’t be comfortable with. I assume you know me well enough that you’re comfortable around me?”

Yangyang lifts an upturned palm and raises an eyebrow, waiting for a response to his assumption. Petulantly, you shake your head playfully and stick out your tongue at him.  

Rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze drops down to the floor for his last point. His voice lowers.

“And, I don’t know, we’d just hang out like we usually do during that time, except we’d do more couple-y things.”

Realizing the implication of his words, he widens his eyes. “I mean, we'll do whatever you’re comfortable with, obviously. We don’t have to do any of the physical stuff—”

You burst into a giggle at his rambling and hold a hand out, cutting him off. “Okay, Yang. I get it.”  

Yangyang watches your next moves carefully. You’re peering off to one side and picking at the tips of your fingers. After a minute that feels like forever, you nod slowly.

“I guess you have a point. We are sorta like a couple already.”

Your best friend sighs in relief, grinning that you’re not outright rejecting the idea.

“So,” you meet his eyes and bunch a shoulder up towards your ear. “We’ll just be a couple until what, New Year’s?”

“Yeah, sure,” he shrugs indifferently. “Whatever you want. It’s your Christmas wish.”

You chuckle and shake your head in disbelief that you two are actually making an agreement for Yangyang to be your temporary, holiday boyfriend.

Honestly, it’s a little crazy... but maybe it’s the perfect thing to get your mind off of Mark and the handful of holiday exes hanging above your head.

“Okay, since my last final is on the 21st, let’s start ‘dating’ then and we’ll play everything by ear, see how it goes.”

Yangyang bobs his head eagerly. “Sounds good, soon-to-be girlfriend.”

He sticks a hand out for you to shake. You take it firmly, sealing the deal and flashing him a grin.

“Soon-to-be boyfriend.”  

Although the night goes on like usual between the two of you, you couldn’t deny how ecstatic you are to finally have a boyfriend during the holidays, even if it was technically your best friend as a stand-in.

DECEMBER 21st

Tonight’s your first date with Yangyang.

That sounds weird to say, you admit to yourself, but it’s the truth.

After you stroll out of your last final of the semester, Yangyang’s waiting for you inside near the main exit of the building with several layers on, including his hoodie over his head and a knitted scarf underneath. His attention leaves his phone and he stuffs it into pocket as he notices you heading over.  

“Hey, girlfriend,” he welcomes you, beaming.

You snicker at the unfamiliar label. You wonder if you’re going to get used to this, even if it’s only for two weeks.  

“Hey, boyfriend,” you grin harder as the word falls from your lips, trying your best not to outright burst into laughter. “Where we heading off to?”

Although you said both of you could play the dating by ear, Yangyang’s been keen on scheduling plans for the upcoming days. You told him he didn’t have to, however, he insisted by saying that he wouldn’t only be a horrible boyfriend, but a horrible friend if he couldn’t make the next weeks fun for you.

Yangyang was anything but a horrible friend, and the fact that he was willing to be your holiday boyfriend to make you happy proved it further. Nevertheless, you gladly let him take the reins.

“I was thinking the movies tonight? See the latest Marvel film?”

Concurring to the idea, you scurry towards the bus stop and are movie-theatre bound to the nearest one off-campus. Arriving at the theatre, Yangyang and you buy your tickets and a popcorn to share, then head into the respective auditorium where the movie is playing. Since the movie’s been running for a couple of weeks, the auditorium is fairly empty, giving you two the chance to snag perfect middle seats with nobody else is in the row.  

Up to this point, aside from the name-dropping of boyfriend and girlfriend, this feels less like a date and more like any other hang-out with him. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing awkward.

But that changes during a third of the movie.

You’re both so immersed by the screen that neither party notices the other’s hand when both of you reach for the popcorn in Yangyang’s lap at the same time.  

A jolt runs through as your hands brush together. The duo’s eyes tear away from the screen and flit to the action happening in real-time. The touch lingers for several moments.  

“Sorry,” you quickly mumble, drawing your hand back slightly, but still hovering over the popcorn.    

“Uhm,” Yangyang licks his lips and visibly gulps under the screen’s bright glare.

He whispers, his voice almost cracking, “As your boyfriend, can I hold your hand?”

Okay, this is just your best friend, acting as your temporary boyfriend, asking to hold your hand. No big deal, no big deal at all.

Yet, the thunderous knocking in your ears, louder than the explosions blasting through the theatre’s speakers, suggests otherwise.

You don’t even register it, but you’re already nodding in response. Your breathing slows to the rate of Yangyang’s hand inching over. At the anticipated contact, you gasp softly. His smooth fingers clasp over yours. Since the arm rest in the middle of you is positioned upward, there’s no obtrusion and you relax, letting your hands mingle in between the empty space.

Without looking at one another, both of you smile bashfully to yourselves as you try to continue to focus on the screen.

After a while, because you aren’t exactly holding hands, you spread your fingers, hastily doing so because you don’t want him to think you’re breaking the interaction, and twist your palm to properly interlock hands with him. You give Yangyang’s hand a warm, gentle squeeze. He does the same and even strokes his thumb against your skin.

Talk about playing everything by ear. Who knew you’d be hand in hand on the first date?

You attempt to not think much on it, but Yangyang’s hand in yours feels... so right, like your hand was made for this, for his to hold. Like you should’ve done this way sooner.

And if Yangyang’s thoughts could be heard, he’s thinking the same.

Despite the mutual fear of sweaty palms, neither of you desire to let go, so much that you not only hold hands during the rest of the movie, but throughout the bus ride back to campus and all the way until he escorts you to your front door.

With a certain charge in the atmosphere, you exchange sweet good-byes. That night, after the culmination of stress from finals and your worries of your holiday exes, you finally have a peaceful sleep, looking forward to your date with Yangyang tomorrow.

DECEMBER 22nd

“Babe, how do I look?”

“Very pretty, honey.” A bundled up Yangyang winks at you from behind his phone.

The second date is an evening at a Christmas light festival at a botanical garden on the outskirts of town. The lights illuminate so strongly; there was a glowing dome-like hue over the location that seemed to reach the dark sky as you got off the bus.

When stepping foot into the garden, all the encompassing lights mesmerize you. Lights on the various greenery, lights as decorative art pieces, lights lining the pathways. Different shades of colours and shapes engulf the massive area.

Yangyang’s currently in the middle of taking your photo near an arch tangled with dark blue, gold, and white bulbs. All night long, you’ve been mockingly using endearing terms, but, despite the frigid air, your cheeks heat up over something else he just said.

“You think I’m pretty?” you genuinely ask, breaking your pose.  

He lowers his phone a bit, his jaw dangling.

“Uh, I mean,” he giggles awkwardly, nodding softly. “Yeah.”

Yangyang never told you, but he initially sat near you in Psych 101 because he thought you were the most stunning girl in the class. And sure, he was a little disappointed at the time to find out you had a boyfriend, but that didn’t mean you two couldn’t still be friends. Other than the first few weeks he had a crush on you, he’s never thought of you as more than a friend.  

But those feelings are resurfacing, hitting him in the chest like a bag of bricks, due to moments like this one—you’re batting your eyelids, gaze straying elsewhere, and adorably chewing on your lower lip.  

“And you’re not just saying that as my holiday boyfriend?”

Pouting to one side, he shakes his head cutely. “Mm-mm.”

On the flipside, the beginning with Yangyang for you was strictly platonic. You were dating Haechan at the time you met him. When Haechan broke up with you later that fall, you kept a distance from dating for a while, heartbroken from the high school love gone sour. During that period, you never told him, but you did run through the possibility of dating Yangyang since you got along so well... until you met Jaemin earlier the next semester, who stole your heart. Ever since then, you’ve never seen Yangyang under that light again.

Despite that, you can’t deny how attractive he is, and now that you’re single and technically dating him, you embrace the fact with open arms.  

Beaming as bright as the lights, you tug him by the end of his puffer jacket’s sleeve to bring him closer to you.

“C’mon, handsome, let’s take some pictures together.” Prickles rise under Yangyang’s cheeks from the off-hand compliment.  

Holding your phone up in the air at about an arm’s length away, the side of your heads touch to prepare for a few selfies. When you finish capturing them, Yangyang’s hovering over your shoulder as you scroll through to glance through the photos.

“We look good together,” you comment. “Don’t you think?”

In sync, your heads turn to meet each other. Your eyes waver from the blatant clouds of your breaths and over to his lips. The clouds become rapid bursts as you begin to lean forward. So does Yangyang.

“Do you guys want a picture together?” someone suddenly asks. The abrupt voice drags you both apart instantly, crushing the moment into pieces.

“Sure,” you peep, fumbling to hand your phone over to the stranger.

Posing, Yangyang’s hand rests around the middle of your back, which is the norm when you take pictures with him, but he pulls you in snugly. You smile even wider, relishing in the new-level of intimacy and allow yourself to be truly content among his presence.

“You guys are such a cute couple,” the stranger gushes while they return your phone prior to walking away.

“I guess we are, huh, babe?” you jut your tongue out in jest at him. This time, you indulge in the endearing term without a sliver of mockery.  

Yangyang copies you, jutting his tongue out further than yours, and seizes your hand to continue the tour around the gleaming garden.

The almost-kiss isn’t mentioned for the rest of the night, nor is it acted upon, but both individuals dwell on the near occurrence before sleep that evening, staring longingly at their bedroom ceiling.

DECEMBER 23rd

For the third date, you find yourselves at the campus’ dedicated ice rink arena to partake in ice skating.

You’ve skated a few times in the past, but you’re by no means a pro. On the other hand, this is apparently Yangyang’s first time, and he’s already skating circles around you.

“Show off,” you grumble as he does another lap past you. Your gloved hands are splayed out in front of you, careful not to fall flat on your face.

Turning on his blades, he rebounds over to you.

“Sorry,” he pants. His raised cheeks glow an adorable shade of pink. “This is really fun when you get the hang of it.”

Yangyang intertwines his fingers with yours before you can say anything. “C’mon, take my hand.”  

At first, it was sweet to skate alongside your holiday boyfriend, notwithstanding the few times you almost trip. As the minutes pass, you think you’re getting the hang of it, but suddenly, Yangyang unleashes your hand and glides ahead of you, abandoning you to slide at a swift pace that is definitely out of your comfort zone.  

“Yangyang, what the fuck?!” you screech, completely disregarding the handful of surrounding parents with their kids, the former sending daggers your direction. Your ankles struggle to make a T-shape to stop, but the struggling only somehow makes you move faster.  

As he spins to face you, now skating backwards with ease, he says, “See, you got the hang of it-oomph—”

Air’s struck from his lungs when you crash into his body. Thankfully, Yangyang skids his blades harshly against the ice and is able to steady and support you within his arms.

“You little fucker,” you gripe, lightly punching him in the arm.

He chuckles blithely, “Sorry, but it was kinda funny, you gotta admit.”

You breathe a large huff, which makes you note how your hair is falling over your face after the catastrophe. You’re about to lift your hand to rearrange the strands, but Yangyang beats you to it and is in the midst of tucking them behind your ear.

The knocking in your ears reappears with a vengeance and the physical source of the knocking is thrashing violently against your chest.

Your scorching breaths fuse in the refrigerated rink as Yangyang eliminates the inches of space between, his plush mouth ultimately converging with yours.

You have to constantly remind yourself to breathe under Yangyang’s intensity, and remind yourself that you’re in a public space and shouldn’t be making out like this.

But everyone’s skating around the couple, daring to not disrupt the affectionate display.

God, you don’t know when was the last time you’ve been kissed like this. Have you ever even experienced a kiss that was a fraction of this? Yangyang daintily cups your cheeks like you’re glass, but his lips press ruggedly into yours, inflaming your entirety and melting any existence of your figurative fragility.  

You ignore the echo in the back of your mind that reminds you he’s your temporary boyfriend.

The Talk will inevitably occur, but your future self could deal with it. Presently, you’re too caught up, drowning in Yangyang’s embrace.

DECEMBER 24th

On Christmas Eve, Yangyang decides to bring you to an outdoor Christmas market.

Understandably, since it’s the day before Christmas, the place is absolutely packed. For the first fifteen minutes or so, it’s joyous being immersed in the Christmas spirit with the assorted little shops and their respective products. You’re holding Yangyang’s hand tightly, pointing and half-shouting over the bustle about the items that catch your eye.

Unfortunately, someone accidentally bumps against your arms and your hand is gone from his.

Swivelling your head, searching through the crowd, it occurs to you that you officially lost Yangyang.

Your feet come to a halt as your hand attempts to dig into your jacket pocket to pluck your phone out, but the moving crowd forces you to constantly follow the stream.

You yell for him, but words can’t materialize. Your windpipe tightens. Your breath is becoming shallower and shallower. Blood pulses in your ears alarmingly, blocking out the clamour from around you. Your mind’s running everywhere without control.

Where is your boyfriend?

No, scratch that, he’s not your actual boyfriend—where is your best friend?

Did he leave you? He would never.

Right?

But what happens when all of this is over? Will you still have your best friend?

You’ve avoided The Talk long enough, but you didn’t expect to catch feelings for him. Not like this.  

Maybe you’re just destined to be alone.

Is this how it feels to actually lose him?

Tears fight your vision. You hear a faint call of your name, but you can’t urge yourself to turn around, sinking only further into the sea of anonymity. You’re just a face in a crowd, all alone, with no one who cares—

Yangyang grasps you by the arm and maneuvers you aside to a less busy area behind one of the vendor stands.

“Oh, God, thought I lost you there—”

You cut him off, hugging him with all your might and stuff your face in his chest cushioned by the downy layers of his winter jacket. Yangyang immediately drapes his arms securely around you, reading your uneasiness.  

“Hey, I got you. I got you,” he soothes, running a hand through your hair. “God, not my best idea. Sorry for bringing you here.”

You shake your head, wordlessly informing him that it’s okay. You’re just glad to be with him again.

“Wanna go home?”

You nod solemnly, and Yangyang zips you out of there in minutes with his arm tucked by your side,  ensuring he doesn’t lose you in the crowd again.

Fortunately, the jitters mostly disappear when you arrive at your place in the late afternoon. You’re in the middle of rummaging through your keys to unlock your door.

“Sorry I didn’t have anything else planned for today,” he mumbles, leaning with folded arms against the wall.

“Did you...” You insert the correct key and turn the lock, clicking the door open. Your gaze lifts to match his. “Did you wanna maybe have dinner with me tonight? I was thinking of ordering pizza in.”

The grin that reaches his eyes is a sufficient answer for you.

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” He hangs his arm around your shoulder and plants a kiss atop your head.

After chomping down pizza and playing a few rounds of Super Smash Bros. on Yangyang’s Switch, you peer over to him on your living room couch while he’s figuring out which character he should play next.  

The little mental voice in the back of your mind prods you, reminding that you should really, really have The Talk soon. The Talk that you swept under the rug at the start by saying you’d play everything by ear.

Four dates later, and the thought of this ending scares the living daylights out of you. This not only including the interim relationship, but the dire possibility of the friendship itself too. Is it possible to go back to how you were, flipping it off like a light switch?

But the internal voice is smothered as you’re drawn to his pouting lips in thought. His pouting, oh-so kissable lips. Following the ice skating kiss yesterday, you only shared a good-bye kiss when he dropped you off. Since then, you’ve been itching to have his lips on yours again.

Yangyang eventually detects your lack of focus and finds you gawking at his mouth. Your gaze dashes to his eyes, blinking innocently, but then his eyes flicker to your mouth.

The tension in the room snaps. You two carefully throw the Switch controllers off to one side and attach yourselves together. Unlike the crashing of your bodies at the ice rink, this one is purposeful. Deliberated, as his forehead presses into yours and his tender caress carries your cheek. Your body plummets backwards until Yangyang pins you completely into the couch.

Initially, the lip-locking is gentle and mild. Your fingers lay in the vicinity of his angular visage and sturdy upper frame, in contrast to his hand curling around your waist in a light squeeze.

Soon, hands traverse to other regions—his back, your thigh, his stomach, your ass. Each touch seeking, craving, whining. Tongues slinking and dancing with appetite. Your bodies buzz for more.

Open-mouthed kisses transition from the damp lips to each other’s necks. The touches dig deeper, thriving with hunger. Your back bows, body curving into his. Grinding ensues and his robust desire is blatant against your own pulsing passion.

“You don’t happen to have any condoms on you, do you?” you groan upwards to the ceiling.

He retracts from your neck to swing his head side to side, grumbling a “Sorry, we can stop...” yet you interrupt his apology by cupping his covered length. The guttural groan he exhales into your lips makes you shiver with pleasure.

“Doesn’t mean we still can’t have fun with our hands...” you say slyly.

“Fuck yeah,” he rasps, smirking, before diving in again to taste your mouth.

Clothes are stripped with the assistance of each other, leaving you with only your bra on while Yangyang opts to be completely bare. He tops your body in the same position once more.

On the couch arm rest, your head is perched with his hand clutching the space next to it for leverage. Both figures are too scatter-brained to delve into the exquisite nudity of one another, hands flying desperately to your respective arousals.

Your pretty fingers wrap around his possession almost exactly when he dips two digits into your warmth. In unison, two sharp, quiet gasps pierce the room.

“Shit, you’re so wet,” he hisses observantly. You’re so overwhelmed by the bliss that you can’t assemble any sort of response.

Your mouth’s parted to one side, chest soaring with each plunge. Through his clouded vision, he ambles over your curves and lines and yearns to see your breasts, but he respects your choice of keeping it on and opts to ambush the expanse with kisses. Your chest is launched further into his mouth and Yangyang assumes you’re enjoying this.

Fearing friction burn, you drop him from your grip momentarily, swiping a few licks over your palm. When your hand pumps him again, now drenched with saliva, grunts reverberate against your skin.  

“Yangyang?” you whimper, causing his face to pull away from the temple of your body.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I’m-I’m close.” And he can attest to it; the contractions around him are increasing, harshly squeezing his fingers.    

“Same,” he pants.

Your best friend flicks his wrist with ignition, securing your waves of elation. You attempt to do the same, but it’s difficult when he’s also sloppily thrusting himself into your fist, so you simply clench your grasp harder. His features pinch and choppy moans dribble as he yields to his climax, gushing himself over your stomach.  

Still sucking in lungfuls of air, Yangyang kisses you tenderly before removing himself to clean up the mess he made.

Following the clean-up, while putting on your clothes, Yangyang expresses how he should get going since it’s getting late.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you pipe up.

His mind races, debating on whether to leave or not, anxious to blur the lines of your relationship even further.

Sure, he’s your temporary boyfriend, thus staying over at your place shouldn’t mean anything. But this agreement is ending next week, and he’s questioning if you two can stay just friends after this, knowing that he’s going to want more. Yangyang has had a taste of the what if, and it’s now irrevocable.

He wants you all for himself. Selfishly, but deeply.

For the sake of keeping this a great thing for you, he shoves his thoughts aside. This is all about you and for your benefit, anyhow.

“Uh, sure, I can take the couch like I always—”

“Yangyang, you just put your fingers inside of me,” you snicker, snagging him by the hand to your bedroom. “C’mon.”

The rest of the night is relatively chaste with some kisses and touches here and there. Eventually, you fall asleep facing each other with your fingers interlocked, excited for the big day tomorrow.

DECEMBER 25th

Normally on Christmas, Yangyang and you spend it with your respective families, but coincidentally, both of your families, your parents being retired and all, ended up vacationing this year, leaving the two of you to spend it with each other.

After getting up around noon, Yangyang heads to his place to grab his gift. He takes longer than you expected because, as it turns out, he also went home to grab baking goods he bought beforehand since he wants to make butter cookies with you today.

The cookies end up fine, but the mess is another story. Besides the chaos on the counter, your faces and aprons are splotched with flour (you swear he started it, but he disagrees and stands his ground that you’re the perpetrator). With a damp cloth, Yangyang aids you to clean, but not forgetting to wipe your face and giving you pecks over your cheeks and nose.  

The baking and aftermath occupies most of the afternoon, so dinner comes in the form of fancy, romantic instant ramen for two. Afterwards, you two sit in your living room and start to exchange gifts.  

Yangyang hands his over to you first. From the size of the gift and the crumpled, oddly-shaped wrapping, you already can guess it’s a stuffed plushie of a cute animal to add to your never ending collection. You hug it tightly with a large smile.

“It’s so cute, thank you!” you squeal, but you change your expression in an instant to a serious pout. “But you can’t steal this one like you did with my Ice Bear plushie.”

“Hey, I didn’t steal Ice Bear, I just forgot to give him back.” You roll your eyes sarcastically and he laughs. “I’ll bring him over tomorrow, if it makes you feel better.”  

Then, when it’s your turn, you head into your bedroom and come out with a large, white shopping bag. His eyebrows raise, unsure of what could warrant a gift this size.

“For being my holiday boyfriend,” you grin, placing the bag in front of his feet.  

Despite the hugest smile on your face, his heart sinks at the label for a second, but he blinks and wills himself to look inside the bag.

His eyes shoot open, so much that you’re scared you might have to stuff them back into his sockets.

Yangyang slips the box out of the bag with precision and stares at it speechlessly.

It’s the new Playstation.

He shifts his eyes toward you. You’re swaying on the couch, pleased by his reaction.  

“Your parents paid for most of it, so I can’t take all the credit.” Sticking a finger in the air, you add, “You just gotta promise to share custody with me though—”

A hand behind your head yanks you into a deep kiss. He’s not the only one left speechless on the couch. He places the top of his head against yours.

“You’re crazy, but I love—” He quickly catches himself from saying something he might regret. “—I love it so much, thank you. Now I feel bad for getting you only the stuffed animal...”

You shake your head softly, brushing your thumb against his cheekbone.

“Thank you for everything.” Your eyes twinkle. “I couldn’t have asked to spend the holidays with anyone else.”

Carefully, like a newborn baby, he safely situates the boxed Playstation to one side and nabs your lips with his again. The scene feels like repeat of last night as your bodies wrestle passionately on the couch.

“Not to be presumptuous,” he mutters between the kisses upon your neck. Your eyelids flutter at the sensation. “But I also grabbed condoms from my place when I stopped by.”

His words sends the two of you leaping towards your bedroom. Under the dim lighting, you fall into the bed as Yangyang pares your layers off, one by one. With each peel, his lips roam the revealing bare skin. You swear he has kissed you from your literal head to toe when you’re fully nude in front of him.

Your companion drags his shirt over his head, throws it off to your floor, and immediately targets in onto your nub with his mouth, finally satiating his craving from last night.

Fingers thread into his hair and over his flexed back. His tongue swirls and his teeth lightly tug on your perkiness, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. And he still isn’t even inside you yet.

After leaving love upon your other bosom, Yangyang fumbles with the condom, forgetting which way it should go on. Giggling, you perch yourself onto your elbows and assist him. Rolling it over his possession, you recline yourself back and spread your legs for him.

Pensively, he sticks his tongue out as he adjusts himself between your sex, easing himself into you, and upon the full impact, you meet his gaze head-on. His stare makes you feel vulnerable and exposed beyond the physical plane.  

But, unlike the others you have been with, you trust him with everything, like you always have, and be free with him. Losing your inhibitions and submitting to your whims, you entangle and become one with Yangyang.  

Behind his hazy vision, Yangyang’s simply thinking how beautiful you are, how he can’t imagine anyone else under his touch but you, how he is willing to give up anything to make you smile.

Well, in this case, he’s willing to give up anything to make you pleased.

However, it doesn’t seem like he needs to do much because you’re howling his name and clinging onto his skin and the sheets in a frenzy, like you’re about to die of exhaustion.

You perish a few times under him before he finally reaches his little death himself, convulsing into the sheath.

When air’s replenished into your bodies, you rest on his chest under your blanket. Glancing up at him, you move some of his tousled hair off his sleek forehead.

“Merry Christmas, Yangyang,” you whisper, snuggling him with a satisfied smile.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” he whispers back, giving you one last peck before you both drift into a deep slumber together.  

DECEMBER 26th

Last night took so much out of the both of you, you don’t get out of bed until about the middle of the afternoon. Yangyang doesn’t have anything planned for today since it’s Boxing Day, since the crowds might be crazy wherever you go, so it’s officially a chill, rest day for you both.

When you step out of the shower in fresh clothes, from behind the couch, you watch Yangyang gaming on his Switch.

The little voice in your head looms, prompting that now is the time to have The Talk, and speaks up on your behalf.

“Do we have to end things next week?” you croak.

You see Yangyang’s shoulders stiffen, then he pauses the game and turns around to face you. His gaze follows you as you step closer to the couch, opting to stand.  

“Uhm.” His Adam’s apple bobs and he shrugs. “It’s up to you, it’s your—”

“Yangyang, that’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking what you think, how do you feel?”

His lips press together and he’s staring at the floor. You can tell the gears are moving, but you can’t read his expression clearly.

“I’m down for whatever you want to do,” he says slowly, eyes still averting yours.

That’s a I’m-your-best-friend answer, you deduce. Not a I-want-to-be-your-actual-boyfriend answer.  

He adds, stuttering, “I mean, I wouldn’t mind doing this a little longer if that’s what you want—”

Your face scrunches in annoyance. “Did you just sign up to be my short-term boyfriend so you can fill my empty heart?”

His eyebrows crease with confusion. “I mean, I never want to see you unhappy.”

“So it’s pity dating then?” you lash, raising your voice.

“No, I—” Yangyang bites down on his tongue, almost letting the one word slip out again. He blows out a lengthy sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “I care about you, so much. I’d do anything to make you happy.”

You’re defining his words as an affirmation of friendship and as an underlying rejection of your love.

You need to know for certain.

“Do you love me, Yangyang?” you blurt. “As more than a friend?”

This is it, Yangyang thinks. This is your chance to let her know how you feel.

But the distress written on your face makes him wonder if he should even go through with it, and it’s intensifying with every passing moment that he’s not speaking.  

If only he knew your distress was deepening because you took his hesitance as absolute rejection.  

Your heart is breaking because of him, and he technically wasn’t even yours to begin with.

You smack your lips together and gulp a few times, trying to make the huge knot in your throat disappear.

“You know what, maybe let’s just forget this arrangement and leave it all behind and forget about the sex and—”

“You wanna stop this?” he utters quietly.

The word “this” hangs heavy in the air. This, carrying the weight of not only being the temporary agreement, but also your friendship.

“Yeah,” you whisper, tears beginning to blur your eyes. “I think I do.”

DECEMBER 28th

Two days have passed since you last saw Yangyang.

That day before he left, Yangyang, feeling guilty for how events unfolded, wanted to give back the Playstation, but you insisted for him to keep it. In spite of everything, it was a Christmas gift to him from you and his parents.

But both of you weren’t sure if the shared custody promise was going to be held up.  

In hopes that things would eventually get better and heal itself, Yangyang thought it’d be best to leave you alone for a while, like how he usually did.

And maybe he was right to do so, but this time is different.

Because he’s on the other end of the stick now; he’s the one who broke your heart.  

Under regular circumstances, whenever you needed space, he was always ready to be there by your side.

But Yangyang’s uncertain if you’re going to let him comfort you this time.  

And you’re uncertain if you even want him to.

DECEMBER 30th

Today, Yangyang finally makes the move to get in touch with you, texting you to call him, but you don’t, so he leaves a voicemail later in the evening.

“There’s a New Year’s party I’m going to tomorrow,” he starts off, then spews the specific details.

There’s a pause and you hear shuffling in the background. You assume he’s pacing around.

“I know you ended our agreement, but I wouldn’t mind fulfilling my end since New Year’s is the last day tomorrow. I’d be really glad if you came to the party with me, whether it be as my friend or my girlfriend.”

Another pause.

On the other end, Yangyang rubs his palm over his face, considering whether or not he should say it. If you picked up the phone call, he was going to do it anyway, but this just felt improper. He wants to say it when he knows you’re listening in real-time, so he ends off the message with:

“I miss you. So much.”

DECEMBER 31st

It’s 8:40PM. Before Yangyang buses out to the party, he’s back at your front door for one more shot. His fist taps at your door, cognizant that you wouldn’t be elsewhere since your other friends are out of town for the holidays. Despite that, you don’t come to the door. Nevertheless, he speaks to you through the wooden barrier.

“Hey, I know you want to be left alone, but I just wanted to see if you changed your mind about the party.”

Still no answer. He lets out a sigh and prays the following will incite a reaction from you.  

“About the question that you asked me that night...”

He closes his eyes and allows his mouth to carry him.

“I do. I do love you. As both my best friend and more. I’m sorry if I hurt you that night by not saying anything, but I love you so much and I think we should give us a shot.”

Still no answer. Yangyang continues.

“Look, I know it’s scary and crazy to date your best friend. I’m scared too, but you know what? I’m okay with being scared. I’ve watched you gone through those assholes over the last few years and maybe you’re scared I’ll end up like one of them, but unlike them, I don’t think you’re horrible or needy or emotional—you’re beautiful, intelligent, and strong for putting up with all those fuckers.”

He leans his forehead gently against the door.

“And even if we ever do break up, and this is a big if because I’ll always try my hardest with you to make it work, I’ll still be your friend. I promise. You won’t lose me ‘cause I need you in my life. I gotta keep my end up for the custody of the Playstation, right?”

A smile breaks over his face from his joke, but still. Radio silence.  

“Can you at least say something?” he begs.

After a few minutes, realizing he needs to probably give you more time to be left alone, he departs and heads to the party.

Originally, you actually were planning on attending the party to see Yangyang to make-up with him.

Unfortunately, out of all the days you had to take a late afternoon nap, it had to be today.

And you overslept. Big time. 

At 10:55PM, you scramble awake, realizing you’re absolutely late to the event. Since the party’s downtown, you know calling an Uber or Lyft there would be fast, but tonight’s the worst night for any share riding service and there aren’t any available drivers. Thus, you have to manage with busing there.

It’s 11:40PM when you finally reach downtown, but the bus can’t take you all the way to the core centre where the party is; hordes of people are out on the streets and traffic is dreadful. God, you’re going to be cutting it close to midnight, but you make a run for it.

You’re grateful the party is on the second floor of a small building because you slide in right through the entrance at 11:58PM. You rush to call Yangyang’s phone, hoping he’ll pick up as you try to find him in the scattered groups of people.

You begin to holler for him in hopes he can hear you, but the countdown is happening, drowning out your voice. Thirty seconds left until the clock strikes for the new year.

When his number finally goes to voicemail, you redial his number. Suddenly, a hand grasps you by the wrist.

Yangyang looks at you, dumbfounded.

“When did you get here?”  

The harmonious chanting around you floods your surroundings.

“Ten, nine, eight...”

Getting closer to him, you practically scream into Yangyang’s face, trusting he’ll hear what you’re about to say.

“I know Christmas is over, but I want to change my wish.”

“Seven, six, five...”

“I know you might not feel the same and I know things might not work out.”

“Four, three, two...”

”But I wish to date you past New Year’s until whenever, however long we last.”

“One...”

“I love you, Yangyang—”

The one you love snatches you by the waist and your cheek, stealing your lips at the last millisecond before midnight.

“Happy New Year!”

A wave of noisemakers, clappers, and hollering erupt around the room. After it dies down a bit, Yangyang shocks you with a scolding.

“Why didn’t you say anything when I came over?!”

Confusion rushes over you. You realize he probably came by when you were sleeping. 

“You came over?!”

“Yeah, I confessed my love for you.”

“Wait,” you blink blankly, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Your love?”

“Yeah,” he nods, giving you his cheesy, adorable smile.  “I love you.”

“As more than a friend?” you clarify.

“Babe,” Yangyang’s thumb caresses your cheek. “I don’t think I could ever go back to wanting less with you.”

Your lips tremble with relief as your gaze melts in his.

“And, anyway, who else am I going to share the Playstation with?”

“Well, I mean, you do have Hendery, Xiaojun, Winwin...” you start to count his infinite list of friends on your fingers.  

“Yeah, but I need you so I can constantly beat your cute little butt at games.”

“You do not constantly beat my cute little butt at games, I’ll have you know that I beat you at—”  

Yangyang shuts you up with another kiss, the one of many for the rest of the night.

JANUARY 2nd

It’s your second morning at Yangyang’s place. You’ve only done it a few times now, but you realize that waking up in his arms is one of the greatest feelings in the world, second only to his kisses.  

In his bed, spooning you from behind, he grumbles into the nape of your neck, “Morning, girlfriend.”  

Half-awake, you mumble back, “Morning, boyfriend,” and sink deeper into the curve of his body.

Content, you finally broke your string of cursed holiday break-ups for good.  

And all it took was to be with the one who was in front of you all this time.

[dabiboy]

I did it, angst to fluff dad!hawks and dad!dabi👀

AN: I do not support violence of any kind, and less bullying.

Hawks and Dabi when their kid is bullied at school

Hawks:

Being a father and a hero was hard. Mostly because his child could be a target for anyone who wanted to hurt him. Therefore, in order to keep Keigo working there the commission decided to keep an eye on Haru. But that include only villains and criminals. Not school bullies. And that was what happened that day nearly lunch time. Keigo had finished everything early that day, an going through some paperwork to spend time seemed like a good idea, in that way he would have more free time on the weekend. However, he had to stop when you called him.

"Hey angel! How are you?"

"Hi love, I'm good. But I'm calling you to ask you a favor"

"Sure thing, what is it?"

"Haru's school called me, and they said there was an incident and they wanted me to pick him up, but I'm busy right now, can you go?" Hawks wings stiffed.

"What? Is he good? What else did they say?" He asked standing up quickly. His son was first.

"Not much, apparently there was a fight or something like that"

"I'm on my way"

He hung up and got out flying through the window, not even bothering in changing his hero suit. It didn't take him more than ten minutes to get to the school, and once on the floor, he saw him.

Haru was sitting alone on a bench, both knees scrapped, dry mud on his face and part of his hair. There was also green and blue paint on his head, and also on his tiny wings, together with some chewed gum.  He was holding his bag tightly against his chest as he was fidgeting with his fingers, eyes looking at the floor. Keigo's heart broke into million pieces, and even more when he noticed his son was sobbing silently.

"Chicken wing?" He asked with the softest voice possible as he kneeled in front of him. Haru didn't say anything. "It's fine now, dad's here" trying to keep on a comfortimg smile was so hard. "Wanna tell me what happened, hm?" Softly, he caressed his son cheek.

"There were-there were some older kids that," a sob "were bothering because of my wings" he cleaned his tear with his forearm "they said there were small and weak, and one of them said" Haru's chin trembled "let's see if he flies" he tried to drag me somewhere but as I refuse they-they did this" He reffered to his wings and hair covered in paint and chewing gum, scrapped knees and bruises.

"Fuck, come here my boy" Hawks said holding back his own tears as he pulled him in for a tight hug.

"They even said you weren't my dad" Haru dropped his bag so he could hold on to Keigo.

"Let them speak, they don't need to know everything" Keigo used his hand to caress Haru's head gently.

"I-I don't know why they are like that, I lend them my toys, crayons, I even share the lunch mom makes but" he couldn't keep talking.

"People are shit sometimes, and we... We just gotta face it. The important thing here, Haru, is not being like them, and don't believe any crap they say about you. You gotta keep being good, humble, caring, all the things that you are now, my chicken wing" Haru's eyes looked back at him.

"Do you think I'm all of that?" And that question made him think, had those kids been telling him more shit too?

"I don't think so, I know it. I'm sure of it" Keigo smiled at him, wiping some dust out of his cheekbone. "What about we go home now, get you cleaned up and order some KFC, what do you say?"

"Mom is gonna be mad if we eat that and not veggies"

"Oh, I'm quiet sure she will agree with it today"

"Yeah! We put him some painting too, he gotta learn not to lie! He keeps saying winged hero Hawks is his dad" at the sound of that voice, Haru gasped and tried to hide in Keigo's body. But he didn't allow it.

His face went from soft to angry as hell. He stood up slowly, knowing that, in his hero suit and with his huge red wings was going to call their attention.

"Dad look! That's him" the kid say.

"Hi Hawks, could you maybe take a picture with my son? He wants to be a hero like you"

"Oh, is that so?" Keigo tilted his head. "Well, hero course 101; we save people. Don't beat the shit out of them."

"What do you m-"

"Your kid, did that to mine" He pointed Haru, and the other kid's face turned white. "I don't give a shit about the reason, because there's no reason to do that to anyone. Anyone" at that point, he was trying hard not to lose it. "If you wanna be a hero then change, because with that attitude you'll not make it far. And you?" He pointed the other father "Guide him good. Do not celebrate those actions, or any other action that may hurt someone.

And with those last words, he turned around again.

"Haru, pick your things and get on my back. Hold on tight"

It is about time to teach him how to fly, Keigo thought.

Dabi:

Kaji was patiently waiting for the school bus to pick him up and take him back home, excitment rushed over him knowing that maybe that weekend he was going to see his dad again. But some comments took him out of his thoughts, and when he looked back he saw to older kids making fun of a girl that looked his age. And she recognized him, it was the girl from the other class, the one that gave him half of his sandwich when his fell to the floor.

"Hey! Stop that" Kaji said as he walked towards them

"And what are you gonna do about it, sauna kid?" The older say, pushing the girl.

"I... I will call a teacher!" Your words echoed in his head. Stay away from troubles, call a teacher if things are complicated.

"So pathetic, you can even defend yourself" and it seemed they forget about the girl, because now Kaji was their target.

"Beware, he can turn us into dumplings" the other kid mocked, but when he wanted to grab him by his arm to push him again, he got burned by the temperature of Kaji's body. His steam got higher temperatures when he felt nervous. "You damned freak, you burnt me!" And then, he pushed him to the solid ground.

"No, I didn't-I didn't mean that! I swear I wasn't trying to-" the hell happened.

Kaji curled up, holding his knees near his chest, and head on his hands. He had to take those kicks and hits. Thankfully, the bus driver arrived faster than the usual and the bullies ran away when they saw the adult looking the situation.

Kaji got back home, alone. You were working, and the nanny that was supposed to take care of him canceled last minute, but you trusted him to be alone for an hour or so. He got onto the couch, covering himself with a blanket not to see his bruises, hating himself. For being blamed of hurting someone, and for not being able to defend himself or the girl.

Conveniently, Dabi decided to stop by. He used the spare key you had given him to get into the apartment, and he furrowed his eyebrows at the tiny ball on the couch.

"If you're trying to scare me again is not gonna work, boy" Dabi said, but when all he heard was a sob he got worried. "Kaji?" He sat down next to him and took the blanket away from him. What the hell had happened. "Who did this" he asked dead serious.

"Some... Some kids at school" Kaji managed to say. "They were bullying a girl from the other class and when-when I tried to help her they said ugly things to me, and-and one of them grabbed me by the arm and got" and he broke. Kaji gripped Dabi's shirt with such a strength it made him feel like shit. "I swear I didn't want to-"

"I know, I know" Dabi said, his large hand caressing Kaji's back in an oddly soft gesture. He cursed himself for being so bad at comfort.

"I don't wanna be a monster, dad" the kid sobbed.

"First thing, they look more like monsters to me. Second, you will not be one, so don't torture that little head of yours with such shitty thoughts, ok? Let those brainless kid rot" He kept caressing his back with care, trying to calm him down. Kaji nodded.

"What if they do the same tomorrow?"

"Well, I'm sure your mom will go to the school and talk about it"

"Can I just try to... To beat them?" And there they were. His genes.

"Don't let it consume you. Acting out of anger is not a good thing" Dabi knew better than anyone how it felt, and for the same reason he didn't want his son go through the same. To try to do something good and failing could be frustrating, especially for a five year old.

Kaji looked at Dabi right in his eyes, and the resemblance was scary. It was like looking in a mirror when he was younger. And then he noticed the sadness in Kaji's eyes, the fear, the doubt. Even though he never admitted it, that little boy was his world, and he hated to see him like that because of someone else. Kaji didn't deserve that. Not him.

The two of them stood like that for a while, Kaji calming his sadness buried on Dabi's chest, his tiny hands gripping his shirt, not wanting to let him go, not even for a second. Dabi gave up to his son, he just couldn't take it. His grip became tighter around Kaji's body, and he rested his chin on top of his head, and he even pressed a soft kiss right on that spot. He wanted to protect him from everything, and the worst part was that he knew he wasn't going to be there forever. After a few minutes, Dabi spoke.

"Alright, let's wash that ugly face of yours" Dabi joked, maybe a bad one due to the circumstances but Kaji knew it was his dad's way of showing affection. He stood up with him on his arms "I can roast some marshmellows for you, your mom likes when I do that"

"Yes! Can I have more than five?" Kaji pleaded.

"Your mom's gonna fucking kill me if I do" but at his puffy son's eyes Dabi couldn't say no "fuck it, what's the worst that can happen" Dabi rolled his eyes.

He made the way to the bathroom, ready to wash Kaji's face. Even though the kid was calmer thanks to his dad's comforting hug, Dabi wasn't. He didn't want his kid to go through that pain, but he also knew Kaji wasn't alone. He had you, and him. And he was going to be there as much as time allowed.

[doyumacy]

ʀɪᴅᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ - 2

ʏᴜᴛᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴍᴀʀᴋ ʟᴇᴇ

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴅʀᴀᴍᴀ, ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴅʀᴜɢꜱ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅʀᴜɢꜱ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ (ᴏʀᴀʟ ꜱᴇx ᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰ. ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ) ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ᴀʟᴄᴏʜᴏʟ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴘᴛɪᴏɴ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5,2ᴋ

3

two years ago

“起きて、女の赤ちゃん” (okite, on'na no akachan) (get up, baby girl) you hear yuta whisper.

you groan, rolling on your stomach and burying your head in the pillows. yuta chuckles. “come on, doll. it’s time to wake up.”

“how can you even ask me to wake up at...?” you turn your head and check the hour, “seven in the morning?! are you sick to your head?”

yuta grins. “i got a flight to catch, don’t you remember?”

“oh,” you sigh sadly. “is it today?”

he nods and kisses your head. “get up. i’ll make breakfast and then you can come back to sleep.”

you shake your head. “i’ll take you to the airport.”

“that’s my girl,” he smirks and gives you a peck.

you smile and stand up, unfolding your sleeping (yuta’s) shirt. he grins when you turn around entering the bathroom and seeing half of your ass.

so sexy.

once he’s finished cooking, he serves you and you eat quietly. when you’re done doing the dishes, he’s back from his bedroom carrying a small black expensive bag.

you approach him and wrap your arms around his waist. “don’t go. stay and we can have sex all day.”

yuta laughs and kisses you. “sounds very tempting but i have to go.”

you pout sadly. “i will miss you.”

“i know,” he kisses you again. “i’ll miss you, too.”

“can i ask you something?” you ask, caressing his lower back.

he nods. “anything, baby girl.”

“can i stay here while you’re gone?” you smile looking at him. “i love your place.”

yuta smirks. “of course you can. this is practically your place too.”

you smile big. “little tokyo is my favourite place in los angeles.”

“you say it because i live here,” he softly pinches your nose.

you laugh. “maybe. and because the food is good.”

“mmm yeah,” he cups your face and kisses you. “you love eating japanese.”

you bite your lip. “yeah. it’s my favourite. i always devour it.”

yuta groans. “やめて。” (yamete) (stop).

“make me,” you nip at his lip.

“okay. stop it,” he yanks himself free. “i’m gonna be late.”

you giggle. “let’s go.”

(...)

present

“just a signature here and i’ll take it from here,” you hear a woman behind you say.

you shake your head, getting rid of that memory. one of many memories you made with yuta in the place you’re about to sell.

“yes, of course,” you reply.

you sigh the paper and hand her the folder with the documents. the woman smiles at you. “i’ll call you when i have an offer.”

you nod. “thank you.”

the woman leaves the apartment and you hug yourself, rubbing your forearms. you follow the woman, leaving the place shutting the door behind you.

(...)

one of the things people should know about mark, is that his stubbornness is how he usually gets his way. in all honesty, society depicts whoever is stubborn is just a spoiled brat. it’s not generally like that for mark.

he spends his days in the warehouse and his own condo, and night in the streets. but he can’t put the pieces together.

he knows good and well the elegant beauty known as you won’t be involved in a hellhole like that. he does, he’s not stupid. and neither you are.

he sighs and sits in front of his big tv screen and rubs his chin. there’s something about you that keeps making him go back and look for you. and it’s not like he’s gonna stop seeing you since you live with johnny.

and johnny is his sponsor.

but johnny is smart and he won’t let his sister get in the middle of his business, right? for her safety?

“hey mark,” yves calls him, entering the room. “we got a meeting. narcotics deal with the vanguards squad.”

to be frank, he never wanted to make business with them because they were problematic, they are known for narcotics and gambling, but still.

mark stands up and makes his way to the vanguard squad’s warehouse.

mark, along with johnny, yves and jaehyun arrive at the warehouse. his companions sit on the black sofa, their eyes meeting the 2 familiar faces they dread to see. one of them has very pushed back dark hair and a red haired greet them.

“good evening, guys,” the dark haired smirks.

“let’s just skip this,” johnny says. “what is it that you want?”

“well, narcotics of course,” the black haired sits in front of them.

“but we don’t want the crap the yakuzas are selling,” the red haired says.

“we don’t have contact with the yakuza,” johnny admits.

“i know,” the black haired nods. “not anymore tho.”

mark frowns. “not anymore?”

“oh yeah, you’re new,” he laughs. “anyway, i know you have someone that almost conquered the market.” he looks at johnny.

johnny clears his throat. ��yeah, well he’s not around anymore.”

“we heard,” the red haired replies, “and that’s what we thought.”

jaehyun knits his eyebrows. “we’re not following…”

“we want what the japanese used to sell,” the black haired one crosses one leg. “ that shit was pure methamphetamine and our suppliers haven’t figured out how he did such excellent work.”

johnny presses his lips together. “as i said, he’s not around anymore.”

the black haired squints his eyes, looking at johnny. “you’re to me, johnny. i don’t like being lied to.”

the red haired stands up and comes back holding a black folder, tossing it to johnny on the table between them. johnny opens the folder just to see a few pictures of a black haired yuta in different areas of los angeles.

he gulps.

“he is definitely around,” the red haired smiles.

johnny closes the folder, ignoring the questioning look of jaehyun. “i’ll talk to him.”

the two men smile. “please do it quickly. we don’t like waiting.”

johnny groans. “and stop fucking following us, doyoung.”

doyoung smiles. “tell yuta taeil and i are looking forward to work with him.”

“what the fuck?” jaehyun stares at johnny, once they have left the warehouse. “yuta is alive and you fucking knew?”

johnny sighs. “not right now, jaehyun.”

“fuck off,” jaehyun groans. “what the hell is wrong with you? does y/n know?”

“no, and she can’t know,” johnny warns him.

“okay, this seems like a family thing so i think we shouldn’t be here,” mark states.

“no no,” johnny shakes his head. “just, don’t tell y/n, okay? i’ll find a way to convince doyoung and taeil to get a new supplier.”

“you know they won’t change their minds,” yves says, looking at her nails. “come on, this is a business. fuck family.”

“you’re a bitch,” jaehyun glances at her.

“keep crying about it,” yves mocks him.

“shut up,” johnny groans. “if you say a word about what you found out today i’ll kill you.”

jaehyun rolls his eyes. “you’re a piece of shit, johnny.”

“i didn’t have a choice!” johnny stares at him.

“okay okay,” mark gets in the middle of them. “whatever the reason was i’m sure you have an explanation, but we need to keep in mind we can’t fuck around doyoung and taeil. they’ll eat us alive.”

“mark’s right,” yves replies. “you need to get your shit together and separate your friendship and business or you're gonna get us all killed for real.”

(...)

“hello?” mark greets after he picks up the phone.

“lee,” you say. “hi.”

“who is this?” mark jokes.

you scoff. “it’s me.”

“mmm,” he hums. “i don’t remember you. who are you again?”

you sigh, trying to keep your patience. “it’s y/n. y/n suh.”

“ah, yeah. i remember you. what’s up?”

“you can pick up your car today,” you announce.

“cool. i’ll be there in a few hours.”

“okay.”

“okay.”

there’s a silence and you clear your throat. “hang up.”

“you hang up,” mark says.

you groan. “you’re unbearable, mark.”

mark laughs. “i ain’t doing shit.”

“that’s why!” you growl. “bye, mark.”

“bye y/n,” you can hear him smile.

you hang up and groan. “keep your shit together, y/n.”

“that was very… bad,” you hear jungwoo murmuring behind you.

“don’t even say a word,” you warn him.

jungwoo chuckles. “why would i tell people my friend sucks at flirting?”

“i wasn’t flirting!”you stare at him.

“clearly.” he hums.

you’re about to close the shop by the time mark stops by. he walks to you, fixing his hair and greets you smiling. “sorry, there was an accident on the 101.”

“yeah, i heard,” you say. “follow me, your car is behind the shop.”

mark follows you and you open the back door garage. you take his car keys and tosses at him. “you can check it out or try it.”

“nah, i trust you,” mark opens the car door. “see you tonight?”

“what’s tonight?” you frown.

“there's a race in southern cali,” he tilts his head. “i thought you knew.”

you hiss. “fucking johnny told me it was cancelled.”

“oh,” mark nods. “guess i just screwed up.”

“see you there,” you grab your jacket.

“alright, gorgeous,” he smirks, getting inside his car. “looking forward.”

you roll your eyes, hiding a smile.

you wear lilac leather pants and a white tanktop, showing your torso off. your hair is down and straightened.

you know the south of california like the palm of your hand.  every neighbourhood or street, you know it and all thanks to your father, who was a trucker and would take you and johnny to his trips most of the time.

“i see you brought a new car,” mark says, walking around the red car.

you throw him a smirk. “it’s taeyong’s.”

“he has a good taste,” mark says, checking the red toyota supra out.

“yeah.”

“but mine’s better,” mark grins.

“is that how you get a woman with you? showing her your car off?” you raise an eyebrow.

mark smiles sideways and leans against the car. “it works, most of the time.”

you nod and bite your lip. “well, it doesn’t work with me.”

“i know,” mark replies. “but still, you would let me fuck you in the backseat.”

you straighten your back up and cross your arms on your chest. “not much into sex car.”

“what are you into then?” mark stares at you.

you grin. “i have to go. see you around mark.”

and you walk away from him, swinging your hips more than you do. mark chuckles and bit at his lip.

this race is more showy, with way more people than the other street races. you’re not racing tonight, but taeyong, mark and other people are. johnny is there expecting mark to win since the bet is high.

as expected, mark ends up in first place, followed by taeyong. mark was received by a big crowd, mostly girls. you roll your eyes and taeyong pats your shoulder. “you will have to deal with his fans.”

“i don’t give a shit about this dude,” you spit out.

“aha,” taeyong nods. “get in. we’re going to a party.”

“did you bring it?” you eye him.

“yeah.”

you smile and get into his car. he drives back to your house and the street is already crowded. you enter your house and spot jaehyun giving drinks to everyone. you approach him and take two beers. you come back with taeyong and hand him one. he opens it and after looking for johnny and don’t seeing him, he takes your hand and goes to the nearest bathroom. he locks the door and takes out a small plastic bag with white powder.

you smile and taeyong pours out two generously thick lines of cocaine on the bathroom counter. “ladies first.”

“thank you.”

you focus on getting the cocaine in your system. getting as much in as you can, but it’s not a race and for the love of fuck, don’t waste the shit. you can tell it’s expensive, and good coke is hard to come by these days.

a few rounds of coke and a fair amount of talking later, taeyong and you are high as hell.

you, taeyong and yuta used to do some lines of coke just to have a bit of fun and feel more relaxed, not making it an addiction of course. you always know when to stop.

“ah,” you stand up. “i need a drink.”

“can you bring me one?” taeyong smiles at you.

you nod and walk to the kitchen. you’re sure everyone at this party is high as hell too, from weed to god knows what. you enter the kitchen and see mark making out with a random girl. you scoff passing next to them and open the fridge. “mmm where the fuck is the buzz?” you ask yourself.

“i’m pretty sure that’s not the place to look for it,” mark says, leaning against the counter next to you.

you frown and shake your head, releasing it’s not the fridge what you opened but the cupboard. you squint your eyes. “correct.”

you walk now to the real fridge and take a vodka bottle out. mark approaches you again and cups your jaw with one hand, looking straight into your eyes. “you are high.”

you shrug and yank your jaw free. “none of your business. go back to your blonde girl.”

“don’t mix drugs and alcohol. are you stupid?” he takes the bottle.

you laugh. “mind your business, mark.”

mark sighs and takes your hand taking out from the kitchen. you don’t know why but your legs won’t listen to you and follow him. you spot taeyong sleeping on the couch you were on minutes ago.

mark takes you out from the house and walks to his car. he helps you to get into the passenger seat and closes the door once you're settled in. he gets in the car as well and starts the engine driving.

you frown and turn to him. “where are you taking me?”

“you need a meal and orange juice,” he states, eyes on the road.

“i don’t want to sober up,” you pout.

“why the hell did you take that shit?” he almost groans.

“it’s a nice feeling,” you shrug, sliding a little on the seat.

“it’s bullshit,” he clenches his teeth.

“ah,” you laugh. “you have never been high, mark lee?”

“i don’t take that shit,” he turns to you. “and if you were smart you wouldn't do it.”

you roll your eyes. “you sound like johnny right now. i’m not an addict, by the way.”

mark parks at a convenient store and he gets off the car. he buys a hot dog and a bottle of orange juice. when he comes back, you have your eyes shut but you’re not sleeping.

you open them when you hear him getting into the car. he hands you the food and you take them. you eat in silence and when you finally finish your orange juice, you look at him. “happy now?”

“not happy,” he replies, resting his back on the backrest.

you stay in silence for a couple of minutes and you look around his car. the black and white interior are cool. “your car’s nice.”

“thanks.”

you press your lips together and stare at mark’s thighs. he has his hands resting on them and you eye at them. they’re pretty and seem soft. a vein popping out calls your attention and that’s when you realize he’s looking at you. you clear your throat and look straight ahead.

“you like my hands?” he asks.

“your ring is nice,” you reply.

mark cups your jaw again, making your face turn to him. “and what about my thighs?”

“n-nice jeans,” you scoff.

mark grins. “thanks.”

you hum in response. his touch against your skin on your face is warm, and you wonder how it’d feel against your p-

“a penny for your thoughts?” he tilts his head.

“i dislike you.”

mark laughs. “your body says a different thing.”

“i get chills just from the thought of me strangling you.”

“kinky,” mark stares at your lips.

“fuck you.”

the lights of the convenient store get turned off and the park is empty. mark never takes his eyes off of you, not sure if he should go for it. he’s thinking about it too much.

“fuck this,” you groan. “can you just fuck me here?”

“i thought you weren’t into car sex,” mark rubs your lower lip.

“i’m not,” you lick his finger. “but i really want to suck you off right now.”

“shit,” he hisses. “it’s all yours.”

your hand reaches for his belt and you undoit slowly, your eye darting to his. you unzip his jeans and palm his clothed dick. mark bites his lips, looking at you. you give him a peck while you take out his dick and stroke him a few times. it’s big and you can see some veins popping out. the tip is red, almost as if it’s angry. you bite your lip and look at mark. “you’re gonna ruin my mouth.”

mark smiles proudly. “just take it slowly, gorgeous.”

you lick mark’s cock to full hardness. mark takes a hand off the wheel and fists it in your hair, pushing you down onto his dick. letting out a long moan, mark throws his head back.

“fuck y/n,” mark pants out as you bob your head on his cock.

you continue to work on mark over with your mouth, tongue slipping and sliding over him, cheeks hollowed out adding the right level of pressure.

mark’s hand tightens in your hair and he starts to move your head more, clearly wanting to find his release. “fuck, you’re so good.”

you slightly bite his tip and you hear mark groan and tighten even more your hair. “shit y/n. no teeth.”

you do it again and he curses. mark shoots into your mouth and you swallow the salty load and lick him clean before putting him back in his jeans. you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and slide in your seat. “now i’m sober.”

mark’s comes back from his high and turns to you, still panting. “want to go to my place?”

“i’m sleepy.”

“sleep at my place.”

“i just gave you head, isn’t it going to be weird?” you look at him.

“nah,” he turns his car on. “i can sleep on the couch.”

mark takes the 5 driving to his place, blasting some 2000’s hip hop. and then he notices something odd.

a car.

that is following them since they left the parking lot.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, taking note of his sudden change of behavior.

“there’s a black car that has been following us since we left the parking lot,” mark murmurs.

“take the next exit to chinatown,” you look at him.

mark nods, eyes still focused on the view mirror. he can’t pick out exactly who it is. mark leaves the freeway, passing through the cars as fast as he can until he loses the car. he makes a sharp turn and takes the 101 before taking the 5 again. no sign of the car. he finally parks his car inside his building garage and helps you to get out of the car.

mark presses the buttons and unlocks the elevator. you rest your back against the elevator wall and shut your eyes together. “do you know who was following us?”

mark shakes his head. “no idea. you?”

“nope,” you look at him. “maybe some freak?”

“hopefully,” he leans next to you.

“how many floors until we get to yours?” you yawn.

“two,” he replies and smiles looking at you. “that tired?”

“it was a long day,” you shrug.

“can i help you to sleep like a baby?” he asks as the elevator door open.

you hum in response, exiting the elevator. mark stops in front of his door and unlocks it. he lets you in first and you’re surprised by how clean and organized his place is.

“your place is cool,” you say.

“thanks,” mark takes off his jacket and places it on the couch. “my bedroom is on the right, second door. i’ll be there in a minute.”

“ah,” you squint your eyes at him. “i told you i’m sleepy. i ain’t fucking with you tonight.”

“and we’re not,” mark replies from the kitchen. “i’m just gonna help you to sleep better. by eating you out.”

you gulp. “okay.”

you go to his bedroom and spot the comfortable big bed. you get off your leather pants and fold them, placing it on the couch next to the bed. thank god you’re wearing sexy panties.

you lay on the bed and rest your head in the grey covered pillows.

mark enters his bedroom and places a glass of water on the bedside table for you and whistles and he notices your white laced panties. “white is suddenly my favourite color.”

you giggle. “get to work, lee.”

mark laughs and lays on his stomach between your legs. his fingers find the hem of your panties and take them off, tossing them across the bed.

one of his hands moves down between your thighs and spreads your legs a bit more. he plants kisses on them and you sigh. “mark.”

he hums, passing a finger through your silk. “you’re soaked, gorgeous.”

mark is not exaggerating, his finger slides inside you with no resistance at all. your hips rock to match his pace. mark uses his palm to put pressure upon your clit, while his finger strokes your g-spot, causing you to cry out with pleasure. mark then licks you slowly and lightly from the bottom of your lips to the top of your clit.

“oh,” you moan.

mark licks your clit again, pressing his tongue a little deeper this time. you moan again and with the tip of his tongue, he works the slick, sensitive skin just beneath your clit. your hips rock back and forth over him, forcing his tongue across your clit and finally down to your opening. fingers still spreading you wide, he presses his tongue inside you as deep it will go. your muscles tighten around him. he slides his tongue back and forth across your opening, teasing you, and his hands strokes the smooth skin of your thighs, skim over your hips. he pushes his tongue inside of you as quick and hard as he can, and pulls it back out again. with every stroke, he feels you grow wetter and wetter.

“mark,” you gasp. “touch my clit.”

he pulls away from you just long enough to growl, “touch it yourself. touch yourself for me.”

mark pushes your hips back down over his face, and this time he swivels his tongue slowly and he pushes it inside. he can feel your fingers circling your clit now, the tip of your fingernails brushing against his hair with every stroke.

with your free hand, you seize his wrist and drag his hand over you until it’s on one of your covered breast. he squeezes it and doesn't let go, and he feels you tighten around his tongue one more time and he call tell you’re close by the volume of your hasp and cries. the muscles inside you ripple around his tongue as you come. you arch your back as he licks you clean and you moan again due the overstimulation.

before he pulls away he kisses the inside of your thighs again and looks at you smiling. “goodnight, baby.”

he hands you your panties again and you take them, putting them on. “you can stay here. it’s your bed after all.”

“not personal, but i don’t sleep comfortably with someone next to me,” mark wipes his chin and mouth with his hand. “whatever you need just take it, okay?”

you nod and hug a pillow. “thanks. turn the lights off please.”

the next morning, after mark tried to make breakfast and ended up spilling the banana smoothie all over your top, he gives you a ride back to your house wearing one of his shirts.

you enter the kitchen and johnny and jisung are having breakfast together. you open the fridge and take an apple. “good morning, where are your manners?” johnny teases.

“right here,” you lift your middle finger.

jisung slightly chuckles and keeps eating his breakfast. johnny shakes his head. “is this what you teach your little brother?”

jisung isn’t your real brother nor johnny’s, but you met him when he was a kid living by himself in the streets. he’s a nice kid and despite everything he has been through, he still believes that there is something good waiting for him.

“aren’t you late for school, jisung?” you ignore johnny.

jisung and johnny look at each other. “oh right. you haven’t been around for a year,” jisung nods. “i dropped out last semester.”

“what?” you frown. “why?”

“i don’t like college,” jisung shrugs. “i like racing. like you guys.”

“how could i not say no to him?” johnny looks at him. “he wants to race then he gets to do what he wants.”

“but you’re a kid!” you stare at him. “he’s a kid.”

jisung rolls his eyes. “you were my age when you started racing, y/n.”

you sigh and rub your forehead. “okay. fine, just… don’t get yourself killed.”

“i’m not stupid,” jisung smiles.

“hey, where were you by the way? taeyong said he saw you leaving with someone,” johnny stands up, washing his dish.

“a ran into an old friend,” you lie, leaning against the counter.

johnny squints his eyes, looking at you. “i’ve seen that shirt before.”

“i bought it when i was in seoul,” you say, nonchalant.

“didn’t know they sell canadian merch in seoul,” jisung mutters.

(...)

“no.”

that is yuta’s final word. he doesn’t want to be involved in that same shit again.

johnny sighs. “that doyoung and taeil guy will kill us if we don’t give them what they want.”

“i had to fake my death because of the shit i was making back in the past. i lost everything, johnny.”

“just cook some for us while we find someone better,” johnny begs. “please. i’m desperate.”

yuta sighs, rubbing his forehead. “fine, but just this time. no more, johnny.”

“thank you so much,” johnny says, relieved. he then scratches his head. “uhm, did you know y/n is back?”

yuta turns to him. “when?”

“about two weeks ago?”

yuta stays still and rests his hands on his hips. “how… how is she?”

“better. she's racing again,” johnny replies.

yuta nods. “she loves racing.”

“yeah.”

“when is she racing again?” yuta looks at johnny. “i want to see her.”

“are you insane? no one can see you.” johnny glances at him.

“and no one won’t. i just want to see her again, it’s been a while.”

“there’s a race tomorrow night. everyone will meet at the santa monica pier.”

“thanks. i’ll be there.”

the next night, you show up at the santa monica pier wearing mark’s shirt again. you say it’s nothing. you like the shirt and it looks great with your black ripped jeans. that’s it.

you spot mark with his gang on the other side of the pier. the same chick is with them and you assume she’s either part of it or friends with them. you frown when you see her getting too close to mark and he doesn’t pull her away. instead, he wraps an arm around her hips.

why do you care? mark was just a hookup.

you turn around and see jaehyun walking towards you. he’s wearing a white t-shirt and a denim jacket. you decide to make a trade.

“handsome boy,” you call him.

“that’s me,” he smirks playfully.

“i need a favour,” you say.

“sure. what is it?”

“i need your shirt.”

he knits his eyebrows together. “my shirt?”

you nod. “i don’t like this one anymore.”

he laughs. “i’m not gonna strip in the middle of everyone.”

“you’re such a pussy,” you groan.

your hands reach the hem of the shirt and you pull it over your head earning the glance of a few men that are around you. you turn to them. “never seen a pair of boobs? losers.”

jaehyun whistles at your black bralette. “oh man, i’d bang you easily.”

“don’t be gross, jaehyun. give me your shirt. i’m cold,” you stare at him.

jaehyun takes his jacket off and then his shirt, handing it to you. it smells like him and you have always liked his perfume. “maybe i’d let you bang me.”

jaehyun laughs and after he’s done putting mark’s shirt on, he puts on the denim jacket. “can i race with you tonight?”

“you want to see everyone lose, huh,” you smile, fixing your hair.

“it’s nice to see their defeated faces,” jaehyun opens the car door..

“let’s go then,” you smile.

you give a look to mark and you notice he’s watching you, eyebrows slightly frowned. you smile to yourself.

as you’re about to get into your car, you look up and notice someone standing on one of the building roofs in front of the entrance of the santa monica pier looking straight in your direction. you can’t see much, but the way the person stands up reminds you of yuta.

you shake your head and finally get into your car.

when you finally arrive at the secret destination, your car and mark’s are one of the few lined up. his car is next to yours and you refuse to make eye contact with him. jaehyun laughs softly. “what is the canadian boy staring at you?”

“because i am hot?” you shrug, still looking straight ahead.

“you are yes, but he seems mad,” jaehyun slyly looks at him. “what did you do to him?”

“nothing.”

jaehyun hums. he’s not stupid.

a flag girl places in front of the cars, the engines are rumbling. all eyes are focused on tonight’s racers. you are placed in a secretive parking lot. the flag girl points at mark, who starts his engines. she then points at you, who replicate that. your hands go up, and then down.

immediately a guy called jinyoung is ahead, but mark and you know that would happen sooner or later. see, a common mistake in drifters is that they are so focused on getting to the finish line they don't even spare a notice at their technique. the point of drifting isn’t just how fast you can go, but instead it’s precision, and making sure your form is on point.

you make flawless turn after flawless turn, but with mark in the lead. you reach for your NOS, but flinch your hand back. no. you are not using NOS for drifting tonight. you see mark make a mistake and his car loses control, earning a low growl from his throat. and past him is your nissan gtr, shining in the dark of night, and out of your window, your smug look is on your face. a smirk with your eyes low. the finish line is less than 20 feet away from your car, and you precisely turn your car, showing it off, having a sharp right.

you won.

and you have won that money. jaehyun is cheering with a wide grin on his face, clapping. “no fucking shit. you’re the best.”

you open the door of your car and mark sees you getting off with a seductive, and intimidating smirk on your face. god, he never wanted to fuck someone that bad until tonight.

[anagentinwriting]

Lifeline - Part 5

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: 4500+

Warnings: Language, drinking, angst, fluff

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

After a week of taking call after call, it was nice to get together with the girls. It wasn’t going to be a late-night, but after last weeks rough call, you just wanted to get out of your head and blow off some steam with Nat and Carol at Happy’s Hydrant. 

The Hydrant was the place to be tonight. You couldn't remember it ever being this busy, but it was a Friday night. There were always women hoping to get with a man in uniform and men hoping to get lucky with a badass woman first responder. For some, it worked like a charm, but for others, while they had to work a little harder to get some action. 

You leaned against your pool cue, watching Nat lineup her stick to the corner pocket with Carol observing from the side, sipping on her beer. Nat took the shot but missed the pocket, forcing a smirk across your lips. Nat stood up straight, rolling her eyes at you.

“Can’t win them all,” you teased, eyeing the table to find your next shot. 

Billards was your bar game. When you were attending New York University, you worked at a bar and hustled to make a few extra bucks. Guys would often undermine you at first, but you weren’t afraid to show them what you could do.  

“Hey, sweet thing, you like playing pool,” a guy said behind you as you leaned over to take a shot. 

“It seems that way, doesn’t it,” you replied, rolling your eyes. He placed a hand on your lower back, making you tense up and let out a sharp breath. You stood up straight and turned around to face him. He was standing closer to you than you expected, and you could smell the overconsumption of alcohol on his breath.

“I’ll bring the balls if you bring your rack.” He bit his lip, his eyes drifting to your chest.

“You sure you have the balls to handle me because that line was fucking terrible.”

“Do you want to find out?”

“No.”

“Come on, girl.” He stepped even closer to you, making the back of your thighs hit the pool table. He placed his hands on your hips, and you froze in place. Your heart pounded, feeling every nerve in your body firing, telling you to run, but your mind filled with fear. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to get away from those thoughts, but deep down, you knew one wrong move or smartass remark would make things worse.

“Can you...Can you please get your hands off of me,” you gulped, letting out a shaky breath.

“What’s that sweetheart?”

“Get your hands off of her asshole. She’s not interested,” Nat's voice hit your ears, and you felt the weight in front of you disappear.

“Yeah, take a walk prick,” Carol shouted beside you. You opened your eyes to see the asshole retreating away, letting out a relieved breath. “How you holding up, girl?”

You shrugged. “I’ll be fine. Sorry, I kind of froze up there.”

“Don’t apologize, dude was an asshole. You’re still trying to find yourself and get your confidence back,” Carol replied, patting you on the shoulder. “You’ll find it, and when you do, we’ll be right there with you.” You nodded, crossing your arms across your chest. “If you’re interested, Val teaches a self-defense class, well it’s more of a boxing class at Jabari Tribe Training Center. We could even go with you,” Carol offered, earning a nod from Nat. 

“I’ll think about it.” You shrugged, staring at the floor.

“You know what, girls, this calls for shots,” Nat commented. “I’ll be back.” She disappeared to the bar, being greeted by a few guys offering to buy her the shots.

“Hey, YN.” You peeked up at Carol before your eyes drifted back to the floor. “Promise me you won’t let that asshole ruin your night.”

“I promise.”

“Good. And not all guys are like him; some are just drunk assholes who think just because they wear a uniform, every woman wants to sleep with them when really they aren’t interested,” She sighed, staring at you. “How about we start another game then?”

“Um...yeah, let’s do it.”

______

“YN, why can’t you let me win for once?” Carol whined, leaning against her pool cue.

“Practice more, and then maybe you'll have a chance,” you smirked, feeling better after a couple of shots and another beer later.

You lined up to sink the number 8 ball in the corner pocket when someone out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. You gulped, turning your head in their direction to find Fireman Rogers. “You’re sort of ruining my concentration with your staring.”

“Didn’t know I had that effect on you.”

You scoffed, taking the shot and missing the pocket. “That’s on you.” You didn’t miss the slight nod from him and the ever-growing grin appearing on Carol’s face, watching the two of you interact.

“Ouch!” He held a hand over his heart, smirking at you.

You watched Carol sink one of her three remaining stripes into the pocket but failed to get the other two in. You nodded to yourself, setting yourself up to get the number 8 ball in the same corner pocket. Shooting a quick glare towards Steve, he held up his hands, trying to hide his smile by taking a sip of his beer. You hit the white ball, sending it right towards the number 8 ball, sinking it into the corner pocket.

“Well...that’s game. Rogers, you’re up. Time for you to take on the champ.” Carol walked over to him, forcing the pool cue to his chest until he grabbed it, and she shot you a quick wink over her shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

“Smooth,” you whispered under your breath.

“What was that?” Steve questioned, leaning a little closer to you.

“Bring it, Rogers.”

_______

With one last hit, the number 8 ball sunk into the center pocket. “And with that, the champ remains the champ. Good game though, you weren’t...bad.”

“Not bad, huh? Maybe you caught me on an off day.”

“Will save the rematch for another day then.” You put the pool cue back on the wall and went to your usual table, taking a seat on one of the high stools. You take a sip of your beer, noticing Steve taking the chair across from you.

“How did you get so good at pool?”

“I worked at a bar in college and got really good at it. Even hustled a few people to get some extra cash.”

“Did they deserve it?” He asked with a chuckle. 

“Of course,” you smirked, taking a sip of your drink. Your eyes traveled around the bar, spotting your brother with a group of ladies. It still baffled you how he could finagle himself into any group, whether it was to make friends or take someone home. In this incident, it looked to be taking someone home. Thor wrapped his arm around one of the ladies and headed out the door.  “Well, I’m in no rush to get home now.”

“Why is that?”

“My brother just walked out the door with his latest conquest.” His eyes traveled to the door. “Now in the morning, I will have to make small talk with her, and poor Darryl is gonna have to hear them…” you shake your head, not finishing the sentence. “Good thing I got him noise-canceling headphones.”

“Good thing.”

“How are you liking the 107 so far?”

“It’s...” Steve started only to be interrupted by Sam.

“Okay, so Thor just left with the woman I was hitting on all night. Can’t your brother give another brother a chance,” Sam added, taking a swig of his beer. 

“That’s my brother for…”

“Steve, I heard you just got your ass handed to you in pool. Way to go, girl.” Bucky held up his hand, and you high-fived him. “Steve’s good. He always kicks my ass.”

“Well, that’s because you suck at it,” Sam added.

“Well, at least I can get a woman to go home with me.”

“That’s cold.”

“You can’t get every woman to go with you,” Nat added, taking the stool next to yours.

“Wanna bet.” Bucky licked his lips, earning a scoff from Nat. “Listen here, everyone. I am about to share Mr. Barnes Fling Tips 401. That’s right, this is senior college level, no freshman 101.” He takes a drink of his beer. “First: Get the lovely woman’s attention; catch her eye at the bar, smile at her, send her a drink, whatever you need to do to get her to notice you. Number two: once she notices you, disappear for a little while to see if she looks for you. Then, when she least expects it, go over to her and introduce yourself. Then, this is where the real flirting happens; smirk at her, put a hand on her thigh, bite your lip, any of the telltale signs you’re interested. Then finally, she will take your hand, and that’s when you take her home. We both have meaningless sex and then move on. We both get exactly what we wanted.”

“You’re terrible.” Nat rolled her eyes, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Says the female version of me,” he smirked.

“You wish, because then maybe, just maybe, I would give you the time of day and sleep with you. But, you’re not worth it. I don’t think I could ever sink low enough to sleep with you.”

“Ouch, doll, ouch.” He held his hand over his heart, feigning hurt in his eyes.

“I would feel bad, but we both know you don’t have a heart when it comes to women.”

“One right after another. You’re on fire, Red.”

“I don’t have time for this. Come on, YN, let's go get another drink.” Nat grabbed your hand and pulled you to the bar with her.  

“Is it just me, or was that a whole lotta sexual tension right there?” Sam asked Steve as soon as Bucky stormed off.

“I would say so,” Steve nodded in agreement.

________

You classified yourself as a people watcher, and you always found it interesting to watch people interact with one another. You'd often see the people looking to hookup. A bachelorette party with an overly flirty bride to be who may or may not make a mistake tonight. Those people who came out to drink for fun; those that drink because they have a problem; the new parents that needed to get out of the house, or the couple still getting to know one another. You never met any of these people in your life, but you couldn’t help but create their life story. 

It was like the couple sitting close together in the booth to your right. They were falling for each, whether they planned it or not. It was easy to tell with the way they looked at each other. You felt that way once, too. The feeling that you and him were the only two in a crowded room. You thought it was love, but looking back, maybe it was something different. Something toxic, like a poisonous gas entering the air without you knowing, and sooner or later, you're gasping, trying to find the last bit of oxygen. But, it’s no use because you’re trapped, and every breath you take only makes you weaker and unable to move, and eventually, it ends up taking everything from you. 

“Hi, again.” Steve takes a seat on the stool next to you at the bar, pulling you out of your head. “Everyone keeps leaving me, and I didn’t want to look like that loser in the bar sitting by himself.”

“So you came over to join me? Who was sitting by herself looking like a loser?”

“Yeah, but now we can be losers together,” he chuckled, making you smirk. 

“Speak for yourself,” you chuckled, picking at the label on the beer bottle.“You and Bucky became fast friends.”

“Yeah, well, we have known each other since we were kids.”

“Wait, you grew up here?” You turned your heads towards him, narrowing your eyes at him.

“No in Brooklyn. Brooklyn, New York.”

“Get out--” you hit him on the arm “--I used to live in Brooklyn.” 

“Really? Small world,” he smiled, leaning in a little closer to you to hear you better over the music playing on the jukebox. “What made you move out here?” 

“Story for another time,” you pointed the tip of your beer bottle at him. 

He nodded, “So why a 9-1-1 dispatcher?”

“You’re full of questions, aren’t you, Steve?” 

He shrugged with a small chuckle. “A few.”

“Did you get dragged out tonight, too?” You asked, taking a sip of your beer.

“What makes you think that?”

“Think it was so our friends could get a little action.” Your eyes traveled around the bar to see Bucky leaving with a redhead, and Nat had her hand on a guy's bicep with a flirty expression on her face. You had no idea where Carol went, and Sam must’ve left after realizing his luck ran out. Poor guy.

“So it would seem,” he smirked, glancing around the room. 

You felt your phone vibrate, and you glanced down, seeing a message from Nat. 

Nat: Heading out! Hope you can find a way home ;)

YN: Yeah, it’s called an Uber

Nat: (rolling eyes emoji)

“And with that, my ride just left.” You locked your phone, sliding it back into your pocket.

“Yeah, my ride left about five minutes ago.” Steve sighed, staring at his beer bottle. “What do you say about getting out of here?” 

You glanced at him underneath your eyelashes. “I hope you know you're not getting in my pants.” 

“Oh, I know, I didn’t mean it like that, but maybe another time,” he winked, forcing you to crack a smile. 

“Smooth, Rogers. Smooth,” you commented. “And here I thought you were a goody-to-shoes.”

“Most people do, but I am far from it.”

“I am seeing that now,” you chuckled, swallowing the little bit left in your drink. He nodded, glancing around the bar. “Are you ready?”

“For what?” 

“To get out of here?”

“I didn’t mean…” His head snapped to you with raised eyebrows.

“I know, another time,” you teased, seeing the corner of his mouth turn up. “Are you coming because your half-full beer says otherwise?”

He looked at it, then back over at you. Something in his blue eyes shifted from playful to curious in a matter of seconds. “Let's blow this popsicle stand,” Steve smirked, downing the rest of his drink. 

“Easy there, don’t want to have to carry you out of here,” you commented as he reached behind him and slipped on his jacket. 

“Haha.”

You felt the chill in the air as soon as you walked out the front door of the bar. It felt like fall was just around the corner, and it only brought goosebumps to your skin.  

“How far is home?” Steve asked.

“About thirty blocks north, but you don’t have to walk with me. I just figured you didn’t want to look like a loser sitting at the bar by yourself.”

“Thanks, I appreciate your concern, but I don’t mind. I have nothing waiting for me at home, and this way, you have some company.”

“Or do you just not want me to get mugged or something?”

“Maybe that too,” he chuckled, slipping his hands into his jacket pockets. “So you live with your brother? Why don’t you have your own place?” 

“I’ve been looking, and I did find one I love. The only problem is I don’t know what to say to Thor.”

“I’m sure he’ll understand.” He added. “It will probably be hard for him at first, but it’s always hard to start over,” Steve mumbled like he knew from his own experience. 

“Yeah, but you haven’t experienced softie Thor.”

“Softie Thor?”

“Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but he still sleeps with his baby blanket. He calls it Mjolnir, and it has all kinds of different hammers and tools on it. He says he doesn’t have it anymore, but the last time I saw it, it was hiding under his pillow.”

“Really?” he smiled, shaking his head. “The big guy. Yay, tall--” he gestured with his hand “--blonde hair, god-like deep voice girls fall for, and he still sleeps with a blankety?” You nodded. “Yeah, I can say I have never seen that side of him.” He chuckled, shaking his head.

You rubbed your upper arms, hoping to keep the chill at bay but having little to no success. You always seemed to forget to grab a jacket before going out. “Why did you transfer to LA from Brooklyn?”

“Now, look who is full of questions?”

“Call me curious.” You shrugged, catching his eye before his return back to the ground.

“Fine, but then you have to answer one of my questions.” You nodded. “Okay, well, I transferred because I needed a new start after some bad stuff went down.”

“Why, what happened?”

“Trying to pull a fast one on me. I like it, but my turn.” You let out an annoyed sigh. “What did you do when you lived in Brooklyn?”

“Fair question." You nodded. "I was an ER nurse. It was both stressful and satisfying at the same time. On the one hand, I didn’t know what was going to come through the doors, but on the other hand, bringing someone back on the brink of dying gave me a rush. I can’t even explain the feeling; I loved my job.”

“Then, why leave?”

“I needed a fresh start.” You glanced over at him, and he nodded, biting his lip. “Looks like we left for the same reason.” 

“Maybe this is fate's way of telling us we both deserve a second chance.” 

“If you believe in that sort of thing,” You shivered, running your hands over your arms to get them to warm up. 

“Here.” Steve started pulling off his worn-out brown leather jacket and offering it to you.

“No, you keep it. I don’t want you to get cold.”

“Don’t worry about me? I’m like a body heater.”

“Fine, but if you get cold, you better tell me.” You slipped it on, feeling the warmth envelop you. His scent on his jacket made your insides twist. You pulled it tight around you, feeling your body warm up in an instant. 

“I will,” he smiled, putting his hands in his pants pockets, shrugging.

You walked in silence for a block or so when you stopped at the crosswalk, waiting for the walking figure to appear. “What was it like growing up in Brooklyn with Bucky?”

He chuckled. “Well, it’s a funny story actually because it all started in grade school.” He glanced at you as if asking if he wanted to hear it. “I was drawing on the playground one day at recess. And at the time, I was a sickly little kid, and my mom told me I couldn’t play sports because I had a lot of health problems when I was younger before I became this.” He gestured to himself, making you roll your eyes. “Anyways, I was drawing, and these bullies came over and stood in my light and poured water over my notebook…”

“Those assholes.”

“Yeah, right,” he chuckled, scratching the back of his head. The crosswalk person appeared, and they started walking again. “I was never one to back down from a fight, so I stood up to him. He pushed me, and I fell, but I got back up and tried to push him, but ended up getting pushed down again, this time landing in a mud puddle. Then, Bucky came over, and straight-up punched this dude in the face. I think we were six at the time.”

“Oh my god, are you kidding?” Your mouth dropped over, and you covered it with your hand.

“Wish I was. Bucky told him to pick on someone his own size and sent him crying. After that, we became pretty good friends.”

“Do you still have the never run from a fight mentality?” You eyed him over and noticed him keeping a close eye on you.

“Yeah, I just don’t like bullies.” He shrugged as comfortable silence fell between the two of you once again. “You said you needed a fresh start. What were you running from?” You stared hard at the ground, biting your lip, not sure if you wanted to lay it all out for him. “Question for another time. How about a counter-question,” he hummed, thinking it over as you watched him mull over what to ask next. “How was it growing up with Thor?”

“Thor and I were never close growing up, which is crazy considering I live with him now. He was my older brother, he had his friends he always hung out with, and I was the younger sister. What older sibling wants to hang out with their younger sibling unless their parents ask them to? We got along, but I grew up being close with our adopted brother Loki. When Thor graduated from high school, he tried college but found it wasn’t for him, and then one day decided to move to LA and become a firefighter. After he moved, I didn’t talk to him much. Loki and I stayed in Brooklyn, I got my nursing degree, and he went into Broadway production. We were a scattered out set of siblings, living on two different coasts.”

“If you and Thor were never close, why move here and live with him?”

“I knew he would help me find myself again.” 

“What do you mean by that?”

“Thor was the brother that wasn’t afraid to make a fool of himself to get me to laugh or feel better. He could get things off my mind when I needed to, plus he’s easy to talk to. Loki’s more of the conservative brother that has a plan and can be a diva at times. I love them both, but I knew starting here would be the fresh start I needed.” You shrugged in his jacket. “I think you owe me at least three extra questions.” 

“Depends what you qualify as a question.”

“Oh, is that how it’s gonna be, wise guy.” You pushed him on the arm. “My turn to ask, let’s see, hmmm.” You tapped your chin with your finger. “How did you and my brother bond so fast?”

“I don’t know. It’s what you have to do in this job, trust your team. Besides, like you said, your brother is easy to get along with after you get past his ego.”

“He does have a big ego,” you nodded with a chuckle.

“What’s the hardest part about being a 911 dispatcher?”

“Really? Already asking a question. I think you still owe me a couple, but I’ll oblige.” You took in a deep breath and let it out, thinking it over. “When the caller hangs up, and you never know what the outcome is. Like, am I making a difference, am I helping? Being a nurse, I knew the outcome because I was there for everything, but here, all you can do is send help. I could look at the records and see what happened, but what if it’s not the outcome I hoped for.” You stared at the ground in front of you. “It’s almost like never finding out an ending to a movie or a book. I want to know what happened, but maybe it’s better left not knowing. After they hang up, sometimes you don’t get time to process it because there is another caller with another emergency.” 

“I get it. Sometimes what we do can be a horror movie. It can give us nightmares if you can’t save someone or can’t get there in time,” Steve’s voice drifted off. “You can play it over in your head to figure out what you could’ve done differently, but sometimes the ending you wanted to happen was never going to happen.” He stared wide-eyed at the ground before glancing your way. There was something different in his eyes, like a nightmare he never quite escaped. “And you’re right, it’s one call after another with little to no recovery time in between.”

“But, then you get those calls where everything goes right, and it makes everything you’re doing worth it.” You shot him a warm smile, earning a nod from him.

“Have to say I agree with that.”

Both of you remained silent for a couple of blocks. These careers were tough to talk about. Everyone called you heroes, but sometimes it was hard to feel like a hero.

“Why did you want to be a fireman?”

“Simple, I like helping people, but like any job, it takes a toll.” He shrugged, glancing at you. “When your adrenaline is pumping, and every nerve in your body is firing. There is pressure put on us, and we never know how things will turn out, but we have to assure those we are trying to save that they are going to be okay. It’s like in a moment's notice we have to drop everything because we are the only help that is coming, and we have to try and save them from what could be the worst moment in their life.”

“It’s almost like you rehearsed that. Did you...did you rehearse that?” You joked, forcing him to crack a smile.

“Shut up, so what if I did.” He nudged your side, making you laugh out loud. It was a real laugh, the kind you haven’t had in a long time. It wasn’t a simple chuckle or a forced giggle, but for the first time in a long time, it sounded happy. Maybe, this is what Bruce was talking about when he told you to talk to someone. Weirdly enough, you did feel lighter, like some of the weight was lifted off your shoulders with this one conversation. 

You came to a stop in front of a cozy little townhouse Thor and Darryl rented. It wasn’t huge. It was a two-bedroom home that an elderly couple raised their little girl, Hope, in. You only met Hank Pym and Janet van Dyne a few times, but they were a lovely couple that decided to rent out that home and retire next to the ocean. 

“This is me.” You waved your hand at the house and started pulling off Steve’s jacket when he stopped you. 

“Hold on to it for me.  I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

“Awful sure of yourself, what makes you think I want to see you again?”

“A guy can hope, can’t he. If it helps, my jacket looks a hell of a lot better on you.” 

“It’s helping,” you breathed a smirk, pulling the jacket around you. “Goodnight, Steve. Thanks for the talk and the walk home.”

“Glad I could help. Have a nice night, YN,” he waved, watching you walk up the steps and use your keys to unlock the door. You opened the door and turned around to find him waiting for you to safely get inside. 

“I want you to know, I am still holding you to answer one question,” you added, opening the door wider.

“Look forward to answering it,” he smiled as you walked in and shut the door behind you.

______

AN: Thanks for reading Part 5! This is probably a chapter you all have been waiting for...more Steve action! Haha! What did you think of the round of twenty questions?! We got a little bit more backstory on her, and a little more about Steve. He left to get a new start, too, any theories as to why?! I mean, I know, but I'm curious where your heads are at! Also, I don't know much about billiards/pool rules, it's basically what I have learned through watching people play it, so if it’s totally off my bad! Again, thanks for reading, reblogs, likes, and comments always welcome!

[bitchesgetriches]

AHHHHH!!! THANK YALL BITCHES FOR DOING THIS!

So background, I'm an Indian Transwoman and I think a lot of people could benefit from hearing this. (This starts off long and depressing, but will have some good tips)

1) We lose so much right out the gate. In highschool I had done incredibly well for myself and had 2 job offers for 60k + a year as web developer the day I turned 18. I was also running an IT company under one of my profs LLC. I got outted at the end of Junior year. I lost both those job offers, and all except 2 business connections. The day I was outted I had 5k in contracts cancelled. When that went down the drain, I pushed hard at Papa John's. There I was told "I'm one of the good ones", little did I know the "training exam" I was taking was actually my shift manager's GM training. Realizing it later I pushed to get that position. My District Manager said I could be a GM 1 month after I turned 18 in his district. The day I turned 18 I actually had to flee town for my safety. I transferred to another district, where the district manager made a point to secretly deny me even a shift lead promotion for years. I wound up being an interim GM while the district manager was looking for another one. Mind you they still hadn't even promoted me to shift lead. When I worked at a store in a City with trans job protections, I reported some transphobia and was immediately transferred to a store outside city limits where I wasn't legally protected. Later down the road when I started to look for software developer position I ran into more problems. I have had 7 interviews where when I came in for an in person interview I didn't talk to anyone other than the receptionist cause I'm trans. Don't let anyone tell you that tech is a tolerant industry for trans people in general, there is vastly more acceptance for college educated white transwomen than for other transpeople, and even for college educated white transwomen it's hard.

2) I did learn a few tricks along the way though, don't put your pronouns in an application or anything like that. Don't introduce yourself with pronouns. Instead correct the person when they get it wrong the first time, and be sternly assertive (do the same if ur name is different than your application name). Keep this up throughout your first interaction/day. IF you end up seeing them a second time they'll usually treat you with more respect. Also the advice to not put your legal name on applications etc. can backfire, especially at larger companies where things are automated and background checks are done. I knew someone who got fired cause one of the company's terms and conditions used their not legal name.

The obvious caviat to this is that, every trans experience is different. What works with one person might make things worse with another.

3) Now this one is kinda a tip for trans people too. A super assertive cis person correcting people for you, will be far more useful than spending all your energy 🥄 s correcting every sentence. As a transperson I've found the best jobs I've had are the ones where I've had a cis person who stood up for me without being asked. If you (a cis person) read or hear someone being misgendered, correct them and make that piece of shit feel as uncomfortable as possible. It's a shitty fact but me correcting someone on my pronouns has pretty much 0 effect after the 20th time. But every single time a cis person corrects another cis person it makes a difference. Being as aggressive and polite as you can be to make the piece of shit who's misgendering someone regret doing it is great. Making the Cis person spend as much effort dealing with the repercussions of misgendering someone, as the transperson has to spend dealing with transphobia. BUT Always listen to your trans co worker, if they say don't do something don't do it.

Also if you're hiring and wanna be trans inclusive, put something obvious on your application that shows your company puts in effort for transpeople. This can look like a lot of things :

Offer a legal and preferred name options and say something along the lines of "Your preferred name will be used in all possible situations, legal name will only be used for ___contracts etc. ___" MAKE THE PREFERRED NAME MANDATORY for all applications.

If you can get your company to list a donation they've made to a Trans supportive organization on the website is useful. Make the company put their money where their mouth is a good one is :

https://transgenderlawcenter.org/donate

THANK YOU BITCHES FOR DOING THIS! I HOPE Y'ALL GET SO MANY RESPONSES!!! And hopefully more advice!

This was a rollercoaster of emotions!!! Thank you so much for detailing your experiences as a transwoman in the workplace for Transgender Awareness Week. You answered our questions far better than I ever anticipated! 

It is incredibly infuriating and demoralizing to hear about a talented person being chased out of an industry because of their identity. And I’m really glad you also mentioned how things might be different for a transwoman of color, rather than a white transwoman. Yet again, intersectional prejudice rears its ugly head! 

Thank you so much for including a bit about how we cisgender people can really help in the workplace, especially the bit about listening to our trans coworkers’ needs and how everyone’s experiences are different.

Keep the stories coming, trans citizens of Bitch Nation! We want to hear all about how being trans has affected your money and career, how you’ve dealt with these difficulties, and how the rest of us can help.

Queer Finance 101: Ten Ways That Sexual and Gender Identity Affect Finances 

[script-a-world]

How could I create enough living spaces for an earth with 90 billion population? Could there possibly be a lot more reclaimed land, man made islands? How about with populating currently mostly uninhabited or barren places, making what are currently towns into a big city? What would the poverty line be? How does all this affect animals and plants?

Tex: So originally I was going to say “be incredible inhumane and pack people tighter than sardines in a can”, but after a lot of math, it turns out this isn’t even remotely possible. I’ve left some margin for error, but you can read for yourself below how I’ve done things.

This is a formula that’s been calculated and re-calcuated for years, though admittedly I don’t really understand the point of the exercise in packing the planet with as many people as humanly (hah) possible.

In terms of sheer brute numbers, you could physically compile not only the current world population (as of this writing, ~7.7 billion), but also the all the previous generations put together (~101 billion people), in about 10,800 km2 - “which would easily fit inside Jamaica, Qatar, Kuwait, The Gambia, or Connecticut.” (WaitButWhy).

This doesn’t calculate for living space, as in the area an individual person needs to use such facilities as a bedroom, a bathroom suitable for washing oneself and not just a powder room, and possibly a kitchen (something of varying inclusion historically, see: Rome). It could be argued that bathrooms could be outsourced to a communal area as well (see: outhouses and public toilets).

What you would like to include for a residential unit varies by what you’d like to include in it. Insider posted an article titled “25 photos of tiny living spaces around the world”, where the sizes of a microapartment can go as small as 15 square feet (~1.39 m2; National Geographic). Quite likely the most basic amenities like showers, toilets, and washing facilities are outsourced as communal spaces - these are often apartments, though depending on the landlord they can be just as cramped.

Technology has enabled these microapartments, single room occupancies, and even capsule hotels to have a comparative level of luxury. As many college students who live in cramped quarters can likely tell you, it makes a substantial difference in living quality to have such things as hotplates, microwaves, laptops, and miniature TVs when space is at a literal premium.

We’ll take Hong Kong as an example, since they were technically already listed in the Insider article with their “coffin homes”.

The country has a population of ~7.5 million, with a land mass of 1,104 km2. 7.5 million divided by 1,104 km2 = 6,793.478261 people per km2. This is going to be a reference number, and we’ll be using it again later to do comparisons.

Now, to fit the same population per coffin home apiece, let’s take that same 7.5 million and divide it by 1.39 m2 - this comes out to 5,395,683.453 people per m2. That needs converting to km2, which multiplied by 1,000,000 (to cancel out the m2 in the stoichiometry) now results in 5.39568345x1012 people per km2 for coffin homes.

To compare these two numbers, I’ll take a percentage - if we assign the coffin home number (5.39568345x1012 people per km2) as A, and the original Hong Kong land mass number (6,793.478261 people per km2) as B, we can more easily calculate the percentage of each value to each other according to the following steps:

Plugging in the numbers, we get A (coffin home) as 7.94244604x1010% of B (original Hong Kong). That’s several billion percent more people per square kilometer than the original density.

This means that if we squish people into coffin-sized homes as that Business Insider article mentioned, 90 billion people - living requirements outside of a bed excluded! - could exist on 6.4780814x1016 km2.

Earth’s habitable land mass as of 2019 is 104 million km2 (Our World in Data), and this makes the amount of land required for 90 billion people - presumed as a single layer and only on Earth’s habitable land - 6.22892442x1010 percent more than the amount of habitable land on Earth.

Now, a converting everything into multiple levels might work, yes? Skyscrapers are classically 10-20 levels, and 40-50 in the modern age (Britannica), but I’ll go whole-hog because of the scale of numbers we have and go straight toward the largest number I know - Coruscant at 5,127 levels (Wookiepedia).

6.4780814x1016 km2 divided by 5,127 levels is 1.2635228×1013 km2 per layer. This single layer is still 12,149,257.7% more land required than there is habitable land on Earth.

Now, I don’t know if you’d like to expand this to non-habitable land, but either way, you would still need to calculate in the amount of space required for other requirements such as bathrooms, areas to cook/eat, medical services, transportation, educational spaces (provided you haven’t somehow squished everything into a helmet for “flash training” à la Star Wars clone troopers, detrimental to mental health as it is), places for people to work at jobs that can’t be done from their bed, and agriculture and manufacturing.

If you assume that these coffin homes are “only” a third or half of the cumulative living space, you would still need to multiply your required amount of space by at least 2-3x of the coffin home requirements.

Because of this, your question doesn’t account for the more humane theory of optimum population, as the above types of raw arithmetic calculations are inherently unable to factor in intrinsic values such as happiness with one’s life, enriching interactions with others, or the relaxation that comes from being around nature.

I would have to assume that the level of technology necessary for packing people like sardines in a can would need to be, at minimum, space age, but there are still space requirements (aside from the above-stated) for things like utilities and like… how big the walls are. I did not calculate for walls! This would realistically place people in mid-air and that’s not even feasible because you need to construct the coffin homes you’re wanting to shove people into.

My questions to you are these - what prompted you to consider this many people on a planet sized and shaped like Earth? Is it critically important to your plot, or does this have some function of novelty that appeals to you?

Is this plot based on Earth, particularly of a parallel or observable future, or is it based on some fictional world like Coruscant from Star Wars? How does this kind of world factor into your story, and how would it impact the plot if it were removed?

90 billion people on Earth - of any timeline or parallel universe - is so exceptionally far over the maximum carrying capacity that it’s flatly catastrophic to the environment, if it’s not equally as disastrous to the people from the way they would need to be treated in order to make your idea feasible.

This amount of population is far more sustainable on a substantially bigger planet, so I’m deeply curious why you’ve picked Earth. Is it because it’s the most familiar one for you, or something else?

Utuabzu: As Tex says, density is your friend. Theoretically you could pack billions of people into just a few towering megacities if you built them right, but at that level of technology you have to ask yourself why. It’d be a similar level of effort to build colonies in orbit and on other bodies in the solar system, with the added bonus of not having all your eggs in one basket and gaining access to more resources.  Thinking about the reason for having that many people on Earth will lead you to a much better idea about how they’d accomplish it. If Earth is like the capital of a galactic state, then likely you’d have one huge gigacity wherever the government actually is, and the rest of the planet would be fairly normal, maybe even better protected as nature reserves and parks. If space travel (and contraception) are unworkable, you’d probably have vast sprawling slums clustering around every city and constant food and water shortages. Reclaimed land is certainly a possibility, and can take multiple forms, but be wary of using it in earthquake prone areas as liquefaction is a nasty thing.

As for currently uninhabited places, they’re usually uninhabited for a reason. Now, technology might be able to overcome that reason, but you’d need to consider why people would bother when they could instead use the same tech to add to the carrying capacity of the major cities that already exist and that people already want to live in.

Another thing to consider when siting your megacities is local culture and geography. It’d be a lot easier to convince New Yorkers to cover their region in huge skyscrapers than Parisians, while the geology of Cape Town (largely bedrock) is better suited than that of St Petersburg (swamp) to supporting very tall structures. Consider climate too. The hotter or colder the area, the more energy will be needed to heat or cool buildings, while past the Arctic and Antarctic circles seasonal depression would seriously impact residents’ lives. Unless heavy use is made of green roofs and greenspace, a city of this size would produce an absurd heat island effect, maybe even enough to start affecting weather patterns.

Any city of this size would need to produce its own food and water, otherwise its hinterland would have to be unworkably large. Here, hydro/aero/aquaponics, desalination and recycling are your friends, with the added advantage of helping to offset some of the environmental strain the city will inevitably put on the planet.

[madamspeaker]

Ryan Grim (never has a name been more apt for a man who continues to prove that being White and male are get out of jail free passes for mediocre work) does it again. Yesterday he another mediocrity from The Intercept (mediocrity is the only qualifer to work there) published this gem of an article..

That is quite the bold capslock headline, and a pretty damning byline. The trouble is it’s all bullshit. Last week Nancy Pelosi, in a response to a question asked by Chad Pergram of Fox News, said that Joe Biden didn’t have the authority to use executIve action to cancel student loan debt, and that the power of the purse rests with Congress. That latter part is government 101 to be honest, but it is clearly not the message that the bros looking to have their Ivy League education fee loans wiped out with a scratch of a pen wanted to hear. Grim alledges (and it’s important to point out that this man elevated the Tara Reade horseshit into the mainstream) that two wealthy donors have turned Nancy’s head and made her change course on how students loans can be cancelled (worth noting that uber wealthy Tom Steyer couldn’t get her to get on the “impeach now” bandwagon until the Ukraine phonecall left her with no choice, so I very much doubt donors ever have much luck turning Nancy’s head on anything). The trouble with this whole premise is that until Pergram asked the question last week, no one actually knew what Nancy Pelosi’s position was on whether Biden could use executive action. Even Grim mentions this buried in the bowels of the article...

Now correct me if I am wrong here, but someone cannot be said to have “flipped” in their view about something when their previous position was “silence” on the matter. We just don’t know if Nancy has ever thought that a president can unilaterally cancel student loan debt, and it’s not that she doesn’t favour the idea of cancelling the debt, she supports the notion, but she does question the legality of one man being able to do it without an act of Congress.

Then Grim, who I genuinely believe to be a careless idiot and therefore dangerous, suggests that Biden should just do it anyway, to hell with any legal arguments, and that it would be just like the extending the eviction moratorium...

Except that it’s nothing like extending an eviction moratorium. The moratorium as it stands is probably on a dubious legal footing, but in issuing an executive action on it, Biden is essentially buying people more time to sort themselves out and to get access to the rental assistance programmes. Any challenge to it in court will likely coincide with the extension ending, and so if SCOTUS does strike it down, well it would be moot by then. That situation does not apply to cancelling student loan debt. You cannot just say “the debt is cancelled” only for months later the SCOTUS to declare “well actually, no, it’s not”. That is why Pelosi said that only Congress could do it - should it ever happen, the legal basis for it is much more sound.

Also, and this is just me voicing an opinion here, I am completely baffled as to why student loan debt should be forgiven. This is a loan that people knowingly enter into. It’s not like medical debt, whereby you wake up one morning fine, have an accident, and find yourself saddled with horrific medical costs that require you to mortgage the house. I have yet to hear a good argument for why student loan debt should be cancelled, and despite what Grim states (without an actual statistic), I very much doubt that cancelling student loan debt is that wildly popular anywhere outside of Twitter. It’s not going to encourage or help anyone heading into further and higher education - it will only help those who have already been there and done it. I have yet to hear any details of who would get their loan debt cancelled, who would it apply to? How many years back would it go? And as for those entering into further and higher eduction after the debt is cancelled, what happens to them? Everyone else got their debt cancelled, but they won’t? I’m mentioning this because I have student loan debt. The US is not the only country with this kind of loan system, but it bizarrely seems to be the only one with this oddball debate going on. Why should students get their debt cancelled? What makes that section of the population more deserving than say those stuck with horrific medical debt that they, unlike the students, probably had no say in accruing. And if this is about access to education and making sure everyone has the opportunuty, then surely the actual debate should be around tuition fees? Those are the real deterrent for some wanting to go into higher education but financially can’t. The loan debt is essentially a direct result of the crazy fee costs.

[avatarvyakara]

Strands of Webbing

A Spiderverse Fanfic

Prompts 97-108

“Dance Partners”

First | Previous | Next

97. Cartoon

WHAM.

“En seriamente,” groans the Scorpion. “What is it with you and that mallet?”

“Hey, I go by what works,” says Spider-Man.

"I'm so proud," sniffs El Arañaporco.

Yeesh.

98. Aerialist

Spiders can swing. That’s part of the deal. But somehow nobody can ever fly quite like Peter and Gwen can. The gymnast and the ballerina. And nobody ever tries—why bother, when they can watch instead?

99. Future

“Let’s get you through to tech support,” says—Miles, she thinks? The black-and-red spider.

“Tech support?” Roshni repeats. “You mean to get a proper upkaran?”

“If by that you mean gizmo, then yeah,” says Spider-Man. “Gotta get you stabilized for everyone else’s universes.”

Tech support, as it turns out, is made up of a little Eurasian girl and a huge Hispanic man who snark at each other continuously. Peni is bright and bubbly, Miguel is broody and sarcastic. They help her get kitted out with an upkaran of her own so she doesn’t need to side-along with Miles or Gwen. But apparently neither of them takes very well to criticism.

“Your hologram tech could use an overhaul.”

Based on their expressions, she might as well have unflatteringly compared their families’ honour to that of a tapeworm.

100. Tingle

It's that funny sort of buzz and hum, that sense that the world is realigning itself, that feeling that there's a whole other collection of pieces to add to the puzzle—

"You're like me."

101. Tarzan

SP//dr is the heaviest of them all, and moves like a rampaging gorilla. Miles runs better than he swings, even now. So when they agree to a race across Miguel’s version of Nueva York—just parkour, no webs—it’s a competition for the ages.

“…and if it weren’t for Doc Ock showing out of nowhere, I would have won!” protests Peni.

“Uh huh. Sure,” deadpans Miles, nursing a bruise. “Seriously, should she be spending so much time outside my universe?”

Peter B frowns.

102. Child

“Alright,” sighs Miguel. “Raise your hand if you’re under twenty.”

Five hands go up.

“Noir, put your hand down.”

Noir looks at him blankly behind his glasses.

“He’s gotta be at least fifty!” says Mayday, who’s tagging along for her first meeting.

“Pretty sure we’ve done this bit already,” mutters Gwen to Miles, who snorts.

103. Martial

"So how come their fights always turn out so tidy?" complains Miles. "It's been half an hour already and neither of them have landed a hit."

Peni is a green belt in shido, which to Miles' understanding means "future kung-fu for spiders". Noir is a pugilist from the school in "the back alley off Cross and Pearl". One favours sharp cuts and kicks, the other cutting punches. One does a heck of a lot of jumping, the other is much more grounded. And yet they never fight one another as hard as they should do. Or maybe, in this rented gymnasium in Peni's New York, they just cancel each other out.

"Speak for yourself," says Peter B woozily, who lasted all of fifteen minutes in the ring with Noir. Gwen, who lasted about twelve with Peni, nods emphatically through an ice pack over one eye. “Far as I'm concerned, they're demons who don't even wear spandex.”

"'No webs'," mutters Gwen. "Whose stupid idea was it to say no webs, Peter?"

"Who agreed, Gwendolyne?"

"Amateurs," scoffs Miguel.

"Dude, you have venom," Miles points out. "And you're huge. All you gotta do is hug your opponent to death."

"You got me beat, kid," pants Noir, maybe overdoing it a little. "One more should do it."

"Come on," says Peni, perhaps a tiny bit too breathlessly, "you're nearly there!"

"Right, enough of this cheap dance number, I'm stepping in. Two on one. I’ll go easy on them."

"Hey, Miguel," warns Gwen, "I really wouldn't—"

Miguel, miraculously, lasts a little over two minutes.

104. Division

It’s a beautiful day in Gwen’s dimension, and the Spiders are gathered for battle.

“Okay, tug of war!” calls Mary-Jane through a megaphone (Mary-Jane who is also a Symbiote called Carnage, not Peter B’s Mary Jane). “Let’s make it interesting: spiders on one side, people on the other! General rule of thumb, you make your own webs, you go on the Spider side!”

Miguel’s there, and so is Gray and Ham and Mary-Jane and Silk. (She doesn’t like Silk very much for some reason.) Miles, Peter, Gwen, and Pavitr are on the other side.

Takara wants to know if they’re going to have to be on opposite sides.

“Aw, don’t worry! I’ll just sit this one out,” says Peni. “It wouldn’t be fair otherwise. You go have fun, though!”

SP//dr’s inFace shows delight and thankfulness, and the robot lumbers over to join the Spiders.

“I can be referee!” she offers, and Mary-Jane grins.

“Sure thing, Peni! Thanks!”

Roshni and Billy join the other side (Mayday’s sitting this one out on account of “My dad’s on both sides and my mom’s on one side, so it wouldn’t be fair”). They all shoot out webs and the strands are woven together, then two knots tied near the middle.

The competition lasts all of fifty minutes before the rope starts dissolving. The subsequent argument over who won lasts the next three weeks.

They’re gonna do it again soon.

105. Pas de Deux

Gwen’s movements are formal and graceful. Miles’ are spontaneous and vibrant. But they make quite a team, all the same. Certainly applause-worthy.

106. Companion

Peni couldn't imagine being SP//dr without Takara. Gray couldn't have been Spider-Man without…well, the Spider-God, that's probably the best name. The relationships couldn't be more different. But of all the "Six Spiders", they're the only two who keep in contact with the spiders that bit them.

("Does it count if I still exchange Swanzaa cards with my brother Hector? He tried to bite my leg off when we were hatchlings."

"No, Ham, it does not."

"You celebrate Kwanzaa?"

"No, but he does.")

107. Shared

“I don’t think I’ve ever actually had them before!” says Peni excitedly. “My Aunt May doesn’t make them!”

“Well, then, kid, you’re in for one heck of a treat,” says Peter. “You guys ready?”

Noir and Ham nod, Ham with open eagerness and Noir with something close.

“Remember, act surprised!”

They ring the doorbell of Aunt May’s house.

There’s Miles, and Gwen, and Old Mayday (baby May is at home in Peter’s world but gave him a big kiss before he left for the party), and Roshni, and Hobie, and Billy Braddock who Peter can’t understand at all, wearing stupid Spider-themed hats and cheering hello. Even Miguel smirks a little more gently than usual.

And there’s Aunt May, bless her, with—

“There’s enough for everyone and seconds for you four,” she says with a grin.

Wheat cakes. Now it’s Heaven.

“Happy birthday!”

108. Narrator

“So! You figured out what your story is yet?” asks Porker.

Peter pulls out the Whisper that the other Anansi have him. He’s taken to keeping it coiled up in a small glass bottle with a cork on the end, in an inside pocket.

“Don’t think my...guy would be very happy if I used it around him,” he says. “Better to keep it on me. Just in case.”

“Suit yourself,” says the pig. “Don’t know what yours will do, but I got a free hot-dog the size of my house from mine.”

“...huh?”

“Well,” says Porker, going into storytelling mode, “it all started when that possum who runs the joint just a block down from the Beagle started a contest...”

Peter takes another bite of his pretzel, and settles down to listen.