#Commute Tune

[nsewell]

anyway

[themanwhowouldbefruit]

going to jerk off while fantasizing about apartments calling me back

[ameagrice]

anyone else struggling with the winter blues or simply me

[being-simba]

I keep this pain / it's a crying shame / that the games we play / have pretty names

[blazing-spectre]

After how many days of watching the same content creator in a row do you admit to yourself you might be in a bit too deep

[stormy-saxophone]

ENDING THEME 1 // Capcom vs. SNK 2: Mark of the Millennium 2001

[gender-euphowrya]

you've heard of do it scared and do it alone here comes do it annoyed

[artbyblastweave]

So I don't really think that it's a secret that Boston has a significant Minotaur problem. It's a pretty common situation for older American cities on the East Coast- centuries of poorly-documented cowpath-style urban growth providing an ideal nesting ground, widespread electrification and plentiful steam tunnels that compensate for the loss of the temperate Mediterranean climate that they're used to. And all this on top of limited institutional knowledge of proper containment tactics at least up until the Greek diaspora started to really blow up in the 20th century. You only have to fuck up the safety checks on one cargo steamer coming in from the broad area of old Minoa and then basically any import controls you put in after that point are closing the barn door after the bulls are loose. So yeah, no secret, it's an issue.

I do think, though, that we've kind of let the specific narrative surrounding the issue get away from us in the usual fashion, the problem people picture when they hear "Minotaur" isn't anywhere close the to the problem as it exists on the ground. I mean people's minds immediately jump to the 1949 Boylston massacre, but let's be real, even though that was really politically useful for finally getting the exit fares on the T removed, that was still a black-swan event, right? Basically every mayor since, like, Hynes has lived in mortal terror of having to manage a repeat of something like that during the mass media era, let alone the smartphone era. So we've got these Theseus kill-teams with their titanium-composite ropes and souped-up cattle prods and bolt guns, we have these constant "track replacement" stoppages on the orange line, and it's fine. It's fine! There hasn't been a serious Minotaur thing within walking distance of a T stop since, like, 2006, which again you can mostly chalk up to the chaos surrounding the dig.

No, the actual danger zones, the silent killers are the exurbs, like West Roxbury, Roslindale, parts of Hyde Park. Relatively dense foliage, bad sightlines, far enough from the urban center that the response times are bad, foot traffic that's basically nonexistent for big parts of the workweek because everyone's either commuting or hunkered down working from home. And, of course, a steady stream of delivery drivers with no political ties to the area. Which is an important element, right? I mean it's kind of baked into the Minotaur's nature, that they have a very finely tuned instinctual awareness of the politics of their situation. Start snagging homeowners, there might be a ruckus. But Amazon does steady business everywhere, and Minotaurs are smart enough to cover their bases, to wait until after the drivers have dropped off your package or delivered your food. So yeah, watch yourself out there. One eye on the treeline at all times. And if you see an Amazon van left idling, get ready to run faster than the driver could.

[miniimight]

I need more dad Sukuna and mom reader fics / headcsnons, I love the way you wrote for them!!

hey anon thank you! i'm thinking about making this a series, if you guys have any ideas/requests/prompts lmk <3

PICKING UP BABY FROM SCHOOL oops, toddlers can't ride motorcyles! (dad!sukuna x mom!reader)

sukuna rolled up about twenty minutes before his daughter's school got out, deploying the kickstand of his pitch black motorcycle against the rainbow colored fencing. he pulled off his helmet, sighing deeply when he met fresh air again.

his phone buzzed against his thigh. he pulled it out of his tight cargo pocket, answering immediately when he saw your caller ID. "hey, doll."

"you got there okay?" you asked.

"mhm."

"and you're on the right side of the building? that's where her class comes out."

"mhm."

"great." you exhaled. "m'sorry i couldn't make it this time—"

"stop." he says gruffly, his phone between his shoulder and ear as he pulls off his gloves. "what are you sorry for, silly girl? you're sick and should rest."

he doesn't mind anything when it comes to his two girls, not the fifteen minute commute to her school or the half hour of waiting just to get a parking spot nice and close to the doors.

your laugh was warbled over the phone. "at least the car is air conditioned. it's been getting warmer lately."

"..." he looked down at his bike.

"ryo, baby?" you hummed.

"hm?"

"you did take the car, right?"

"..."

his silence was all you needed to hear. he tuned out your worried rambling about how the hell is your daughter going to get home on that thing in order to process. toddlers don't usually use motorcycles as a mode of transportation... and he should've thought of this before!

"it'd be fine if i had an extra seat." he mused, debating on how he could manage this situation without having to call you to get them.

"an extra seat?! not even an extra helmet?" you shrieked. "baby, i swear, if you're actually thinking about driving with my baby girl on that thing—"

"relax, doll," he grumbled, pushing down the traces of embarrassment burning at his ears. "the brat will be fine, s'just a couple blocks away. she can handle the wind."

"..."

the bell rang and the doors swung open, children pouring out of the hallway and buzzing around in search of their parents.

"she's out, we'll see you soon." he was about to hang up when he heard,

"i'm literally about to come get you, do NOT go anywhere."

he frowns, his eyes scouring the crowd of midgets for his kid. he didn't mean to make you so upset and worried. he just... overlooked important details sometimes. not his fault, he's trying his best :(

"y/n, you will sit your ass down in bed. when i come home, you better be laying down exactly how i left you." he warned. he heard your breath hitch. "you trust me, don't you, baby?"

"yes... unfortunately."

he nodded. "we'll be home soon."

"in one piece?"

he rolled his eyes, grumbling. "yes, woman."

"hm." you huffed and hung up.

he strolled into the compound. as soon as he saw those pretty eyes that creased happily when they landed on him, he smiled and crouched down.

she ran over to him, her backpack jostling behind her. she held up a painting she made. "daddy, look!"

"i see." he pulled her closer, holding the backpack off her back and letting her walk off it. he slung the bedazzled bratz backpack over his shoulder, lifting her up in his arms. "what is it?"

"for mama."

"oh. all your crafts seem to be for mama. still nothing for me." he complained with a drawn out sigh.

she rolled her eyes, and he swore he was looking at you for a second.

"don't roll your eyes at me, brat." he scoffed. "who the hell even taught you that?" he muttered under his breath.

sukuna finally stopped in front of his bike. her eyes lit up as her legs started to kick in excitement. she's only ever seen daddy ride off on this thing, now she gets to ride with him?

he swung his leg over the bike, ignoring the mix of distasteful and flirtatious looks thrown at him. "okay, kid." he exhaled, shrugging off his jacket and holding it up to her. "gotta put this on."

she turned up her nose. "stinky."

his jaw dropped open. "i showered before i came to wait half an hour for you, chubby brat. the hell do you think you're talking to?"

she looked at him as if it were obvious.

"you'll put this on now. give me mama's painting, i'll put it in your bag." he said gruffly yet gently slid the painting into her backpack with the utmost care.

the jacket drowned her, the sleeves near triple the length of her arms. sukuna zipped her up and put the helmet on her head.

she started to whine. "stinky." she wailed.

"hush." he hissed, slapping some shades on and holding her towards her chest firmly. with her protected as best as he could with what he had, and with the jeweled backpack strapped to his back, he began to roll out into the road.

that drive home was the longest thirty minutes of his life. he had never drove so slow before.

you were waiting by the front door, running down to meet them as your husband pulled into the driveway.

"oh my god oh my god," you ripped your baby from his arms, tossing the helmet off her head. "are you okay, baby?" you smoothed away the sweaty hair from her face, your lips pursing when you hear her sniffles.

"my poor baby. daddy's never gonna pick you up again, don't you worry." you peppered her face with kisses.

sukuna caught the helmet before it crashed to the ground, walking behind you with his hands in his pockets. he kissed your temple as he leaned over your shoulder to peer down at his daughter. "daddy didn't do so bad."

you glare at him, cradling your daughter's head against your chest. you whirl away and storm into the house.

he sighed.

after many apologetic kisses and a good amount of groveling, you let him do pick-ups and drop-offs again. though you made sure to watch him get into the car before he drove off.

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[parker-d-bloodrose]

Adventures in Bike Commuting 12/14/22

[Note: I can’t get the alt-text to work when posting this from the text post editor, though I can usually get it to work from the image post editor so I will be including an image description written in the body of the blog.]

Today’s a short post so I won’t really do a TL;DR.

Ghoulie needed a tune up, and I needed a donut of employment because I am starting a new job soon! So, I went to my donut shop and had coffee and then took Ghoulie up to my local bike shop. I mentioned this already, but I found out that we have some cool local anti-fascists who are willing to cover up fascist propaganda. The mechanic was like “oh yeah this’ll only take about 30 minutes” to do the basic tune up. It took actually closer to like, 40 minutes but that was fine. Dude did a damn good job of fixing her up. There were two small hiccups. The first was that I dropped Ghoulie and broke her bell, so I am currently bell-less and will need to replace it soonish. The second was that the mechanic accidentally unplugged my throttle, but once we identified the problem, he fixed it and I was on my way. 

This was probably the coldest ride I’ve done, which brings me to some gear updates. Yesterday I grabbed a snowboarding helmet to better secure my goggles, as well as a new pair of goggles because the old ones had a disintegrating liner. The snowboarding helmet is less than ideal for what I am doing with it because it is by nature, a helmet for a different sport. However, it is keeping me warm and giving me a place to store my goggles when I’m not using them. If I had the money for it, I’d probably manufacture something similar for bicycles specifically. I don’t like the mountain bike/ down hill helmets for the kind of riding I do. Those helmets draw heavily from dirt bikes because you experience similar terrain, but wearing one for commuting just seems... kind of weird. Anyway that’s all for commuting. I hope more people do bicycle commuting because I’ve been enjoying it and I want other folks to enjoy it, which is why I post these blogs even though they’re different from my other content.

[Image Description: A picture of a chocolate covered donut sitting on a paper plate with a paper cup of coffee on a small wooden table next to it.]

[headlinerkwan]

something new - j.ww

pairing: jeon wonwoo x gn!reader

genre: university!au, e2l, academic rivals to lovers, featuring svt as your friend group, angst, fluff, suggestive - MDNI!!

summary: you and wonwoo have been rivals since the first day you met, everything he did irritated you to no end, and yet, you couldn't escape him and, at a certain point, maybe you didn't want to.

warnings: swearing, alcohol, no one knows how to communicate lol, kissing, suggestive

wc: 5.7k

a/n: wonwoo academic rival bc i love him being all nerdy n shit. i really enjoyed writing this so let me know what you think + if you have any requests for some new fics!! ฅ ฅ

You stare down at your paper, illegible and scattered with doodles and a sharp exhale falls from your lips. Tapping your pen against the table, you wonder how the hell you’re going to pass this surprise exam - a surprise for you at least, apparently telling you must have slipped everyone else’s mind. Someone taps your shoulder lightly, bringing you out of your spiral. You turn to meet the eyes of the stranger sat beside you, his jet black hair is pushed roughly out of his face, allowing you to see his soft dark eyes peer down at you. 

You raise a questioning eyebrow at him, clueless as to why he would be trying to get your attention in the middle of an exam. He mouths the word ‘pen’ in response, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his eyes looking at you with pure desperation.  Looking at his desk, you notice the pen next to his hand is broken. You turn away briefly and watch as he lets out a breath of relief and adorns a grateful smile once you appear with a spare pen for him to use. 

It seems like the bell rings almost immediately once you return your focus to your exam paper - shit. Now you’re definitely not passing. The bell sounds vaguely familiar as it continues to ricochet through you, you rack your brain trying to remember where you’ve heard the sound before… oh, it’s your alarm clock. Oh! It’s your alarm clock! 

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Your eyes snap open as you sit up in bed to turn off the irritating tune that your clock had been emitting for god knows how long. It was the first day of the semester, of course you had woken up twenty minutes behind schedule after a cliche ‘first-day-of-school’ dream, what else could you expect?

Arriving at your first class of the day, you find your friend Seungkwan sat strategically in the corner of the semester hall - just far away enough to avoid the risk of being called upon by the professor. You take a seat next to Seungkwan and listen as he begins to rant about his commute. You and Seungkwan have been friends since Freshman year after getting paired up for a group project. Originally, you were fearful that you wouldn’t get along, on the surface you were like chalk and cheese, but you find now that Seungkwan balances you out just right. His bold extrovertism has pushed you to be a little less timid, to actually live and, you like to think that you’ve mellowed him about a bit too.  You wouldn’t mind listening to Seungkwan talk and joke around all day, that’s when he’s happiest so, naturally, you are too. 

Your conversation with Seungkwan comes to stop as both of your attention gets drawn to a loud racket growing a few rows behind you. You follow the noise to find loveable class clowns Soonyoung, Mingyu, and Seokmin. 

“Ah, it's just Soonyoung, so anyways…” Seungkwan turns back to his laptop and continues expressing his somewhat irrational love of drive-thrus . You, however, are still watching your classmates, unable to tear your eyes away from one of them, his dark slightly nerdy features captivating you. 

“Kwan,” you murmur, “Who’s the guy next to Seokmin?”

Seungkwan hums, satisfied, “I was waiting for you to say something, always so nosy.”

You huff gently, knowing well enough that there’s no point in arguing with him, “So?””

“Jeon Wonwoo. Just transferred for his last year I guess.”

“Huh weird, I could've sworn I’ve seen him before.”

Your friend scoffs jokingly,  “In your dreams bro.” 

You sigh again, resting your head on the desk sulkily.  ‘In your dreams’, Seungkwan’s words echo. Wait… Is he… your head whips around to glance at the mysterious man again. No fucking way… Jeon Wonwoo is literally the guy from your dreams. 

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If you had known back then how much you would grow to dislike Wonwoo, you never would have commented on his good looks that first day but, you guess you can’t really blame yourself for not knowing how much of a dick he was. Since you had met, you had tried, maybe too hard, to figure out what you had done to make him treat you the way that he did. Over the weeks you have watched him form bonds with everyone in your class - especially your friends, and you saw how his smile fell and laughter stopped as soon as you made your presence known. It was if you had physically attacked him, the way that his eyes immediately dropped to the floor once you came into view. The thing that annoyed you the most about Jeon Wonwoo though, more than the unexplained icing out, was his brain. 

You don’t like to brag but you pride yourself on your intelligence, especially in academia. You had worked hard to reach the place you were in now, throwing away your teenage years in favor of ensuring a happy and successful future for yourself. Because of this, you work hard to make sure you’re at the top of the list whenever your exam results are released - improving upon yourself and being the best of the best,  that’s what you strive for. So of course, it came as an infuriating shock when Wonwoo knocked you out of the top spot, that smug look on his face and the glimmer in his eyes as he walked past  you that day was something you couldn’t get out of your head. No matter how hard you tried, day and night, the only thing on your mind was Wonwoo and how to beat him.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

“Ok, what can you tell me about Wonwoo?” you are sitting in your campus cafe, your best friend Seungkwan sits across from you as you mindlessly stir your coffee. 

“Why do you always assume I have information on everyone?”

“Because you always do, my favorite gossip.” you reply, buttering him up in hope he’ll give you something, anything. 

“What’s your business with him anyways? Oh…” he gasps “you have a little campus crush don’t you?  That’s why you’re so off around him.” 

“Don’t go spreading false information, Boo Seungkwan, he’s the one who gets cold and quiet when I’m around. Besides, no sleeping with the enemy.”

“He’s the enemy now? Hot.” 

You scoff gently at his comment, rolling your eyes “Just tell me what you know”,  you say laughing. 

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

As time goes on, nothing much changes between you and Wonwoo. He becomes a fixture within your friendship group with the boys taking him under their wing and as he begins to pop up in more areas of your life, you learn more about him. You learn about his love for video games and cats, you learn he’s a great listener but can speak for the country when he’s passionate about something. You learn he’s funny and even smarter than you thought. It’s annoying that you could imagine actually being friends with him if he was just nice, you admit you might be able to understand the crowd of girls that follow him around aimlessly if he wasn’t such an asshole. Because, despite him joining your friendship group and you - unwillingly - spending more time around him, he still acted so coldly towards you, no matter how nice you were to him, he never faltered. 

“Split into groups of six, no more, no less and create a presentation applying your chosen theorem to the 21st century.” your professor orders. Immediately the students around you begin to migrate around the room, collecting friends for the group project. You turn to your left to find that Seungkwan is already clambering over the seats behind you to reach Seokmin, Mingyu, Soonyoung and Wonwoo - all four of them cheering on his show of athleticism. 

“Quickly guys! Come on!” the professor calls out from the front of the class. You look around to realise that you’ve waited a bit too long to choose a group for yourself. That’s when you hear your name being called and turn to find Mingyu reaching his hand out to you with that cheesy grin you just couldn’t say no to. 

“We need the class nerd on our team, c’mon!” Soonyoung calls out to you from above.

“We already have Wonwoo though?” Seungkwan remarks with a mischievous smirk. You quickly shoot him a stern, irritated look as his smile is broken by Seokmin elbowing him in the ribs for a reason you can’t quite figure out. 

A few days later, you and your friends (and Wonwoo) decide to meet at the library to brainstorm for your project. You arrive first with Seokmin and Mingyu and find a table just big enough for the six of you. Soonyoung trails along not long after and the four of you play some quiet games whilst waiting for Seungkwan and Wonwoo to arrive. You note that one of the two empty seats is positioned directly across for you whilst the other is out of view. The solution is clear, Seungkwan will sit across from you, at least then you’ll be able to focus on the assignment. 

Once the pair arrive, you attempt to signal to Kwan, strong eye contact asking him to take the chair opposite you. 

“Won, which seat do you want?” He asks the other boy, and you can’t hold back the sigh that escapes as your plan crumbles before you

“I’ll take this one, the lighting’s better.” Wonwoo replies, making brief eye contact with you before pulling out the chair with a shy smirk on his face. 

…what was that about? And when did he get so cocky? 

Soonyoung clears his throat, breaking the awkward silence that suddenly fell over the group and you thank God that he’s here to take the attention off of your exchange with Wonwoo and prompt you to actually start working on the project. 

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

Soon enough, you find yourself in a quiet bar across town on a Thursday night. Following your friends’ advice you decide to accept your coworker’s invitation to grab drinks. You tell yourself why not? He’s nice enough, attractive and funny, sometimes anyways. Plus you haven’t got much else going on in the love department - no harm, no foul. 

After half an hour or so of pleasant small talk, you leave the booth and head towards the bar to order another drink. As you trudge across the sticky floor you are stopped in your tracks as a man steps in front of you, blocking you from reaching your destination. 

“Excuse me,” you begin, attempting to manoeuvre around him.

“You shouldn’t be with him.” the man says. 

“Excuse me?” you repeat, this time in disbelief. 

“You heard me.” he says, quieter this time. You lift your head to get a proper look at the stranger’s face.

“Of course you’re here.” you scoff. You push past him, shaking your head as you reach the bar. He follows, not giving up. 

“You don’t suit each other.” 

You laugh, God, he’s so infuriating, who does he think he is?

“Oh please, Wonwoo, like you know the slightest thing about me.”

“Actually I-”

Just then your ‘date’ appears, “Is everything ok?” He asks with a slightly concerned look. 

“Yeah! Just a… classmate.” A false happiness lines your voice.

 “Come on, let's head back to the table.” you say, turning your back on Wonwoo who watches on with a solemn expression.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

Not long after that, you find yourself at the library with your friends almost every day, grinding to get your project completed. You and Wonwoo haven’t spoken about the night at the bar, not that he speaks to you usually anyways. Instead though, you begin to catch him looking at you more and more often, his gaze burning into you, making you heat up and, most importantly distracting you from your work. 

“What’s going on with you and Wonwoo then?” Seungkwan asks one day whilst you do a snack run for the rest of the group.

“What?” you reply, stopping where you are, astonished. 

“Just saying, he can’t keep his eyes off of you.” 

“He’s trying to sabotage me or something.” 

“...Why would he do that? Y’know we’re graded as a group right?” He says, baffled. 

“Whatever.” you reply, turning into the next aisle, fed up of even thinking about Wonwoo, never mind talking about the man. 

Returning to your friends, they circle you like vultures, picking out they’re snacks. It’s a chaotic free for all and you’re left with a candy bar and some chips. Wonwoo stands patiently whilst the others rob you blind so, once the others return to their seats you approach him quietly, avoiding eye contact and place the chips in front of him. He mutters a small “thank you” and smiles gratefully, watching again as you return to your work. Now he’s just being weird, you think to yourself. You can’t help but be curious about what he’s plotting. 

At the end of the study session, the boys decide to head to the bar to reward themselves. 

“Y/N, you coming?” Mingyu asks.

“I’m good, thanks though!” you reply with a soft smile, finding a quiet night watching Netflix to be a bit more appealing today. 

Your friends leave before you, saying goodbye whilst you pack up your stuff. As you shove your laptop into your bag, you can feel someone’s eyes on you and your face begins to heat up at your suspicion. 

“Wonwoo! Hurry up!” you hear Soonyoung whine. 

“Right, sorry.” 

You look up just quick enough to catch him turning away from you and running to meet with the rest of the group. 

Huh, weird. 

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

That weekend, your phone buzzes with a string of texts from Mingyu.

Mingyu: Wanna come over and play video games?

Mingyu: (Say yes)

Mingyu: Pleaseee, I’m so bored :) 

You’ve worked fucking hard recently and couldn’t think of a better way to end the week than by playing nostalgic video games with one of your closest friends

Y/N: Don't even WORRY, I’m omw

You respond quickly, pulling a bleach-stained hoodie on and heading for the door. 

You’re sat on the floor next to Mingyu in front of his TV. The room is dead silent, spare some trash talk from the both of you as you channel all of your focus on Mario Kart. As a result, neither of you notice Wonwoo coming in to watch your fierce competition. 

You swear you see your life flash before your eyes when he, watching the screen intently, mumbles “Be careful. Blue shell coming your way.”

His sudden words do nothing but scare the living shit out of you and make you crash into a wall. 

“Oh my god,” you exclaim, heart beating rapidly after his jumpscare, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

He looks at you blankly, taken aback by your overreaction, “Oh…uh… I live here.” 

You turn to Mingyu who confirms with his lips pressed together in an awkward smile. 

“Oh. Sorry. You just scared me a bit, my bad.” 

He chuckles quietly in response before walking over to the kitchen and leaving the two of you to finish your race (which you still win, despite Wonwoo’s meddling.) A handful of races later, Mingyu’s phone buzzes, ushering him to go and collect the takeout you had ordered. Standing up, he grabs his jacket and keys but doesn’t dare leave before messing with you more than he already has. 

“Wonwoo?” He calls with a mischievous grin, “Come play instead of me whilst I go get the food!” 

Wonwoo hums a response as he moves to sit down next to you whilst you shoot death glares at your friend, who simply mouths ‘be nice’ before slamming the door behind him. 

He picks up Mingyu’s controller and hovers over ‘Wario’s Gold Mine’. 

“What are you doing?”

He looks at you, confused “Uh… choosing the best map?”

You laugh, “No no, my poor Wonwoo. This is the best map.” You take the remote from him and select ‘Koopa Cape’. 

“Ooh, you’re so wrong.” he replies playfully.

“I’m never wrong.”

“That’s true.” 

You catch yourself smiling as the race starts. Maybe you are wrong, maybe he’s not so bad. 

“Oh my god, hit me with a shell again, I swear to god Jeon Wonwoo.” you exclaim as he surpasses you for the fourth time. He laughs, nudging you gently.

“I didn’t know you were such a sore loser.” 

You look at him, forgetting about the game, “You don't know anything about me.” you say, under your breath. He turns to you, concerned.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” 

Turning back to the screen, you find that Wonwoo has stolen first place from you - again. 

“Fuck.” you mutter, refocusing on the race, watching as a proud smile creeps onto Wonwoo’s face. 

“Wow, Y/N actually lost for once!” Mingyu declares as he returns with the food, “I guess we finally found your match.” 

“Shut up.” you bark back, rolling your eyes and leaning back against the couch. Wonwoo mutters a ‘good game’ before standing up with a smirk and leaving the room. You scoff at his slight obnoxiousness whilst Mingyu sits down beside you and begins unpacking the food. 

“Are you gonna stop sulking and go get some plates?”

“Ugh fineee” you reply jokingly before getting up. 

You’re completely lost in the kitchen, opening every cupboard in sight hoping to find some plates and cutlery.

“You good?” a voice calls from behind you. You look up to find Wonwoo leaning against the doorframe, slightly baffled by your snooping. 

“Uh…plates?”

“Ah,” he says walking towards you, you step back until you’re caught by the kitchen counter. “Just up here.” he continues, reaching behind you to grab the plates. 

He’s so close that, for the first time, you can smell his woody cologne strongly. Your heart speeds up as he places the plates down on the counter behind you, his hands resting on either side, trapping you. 

You look up at him, breathless, as he scans your face. You’re silent, drinking him in, your hands fiddling with the hem of your hoodie. He lifts his hand, brushing your hair behind your ear. 

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers against your lips. 

You can only bring yourself to nod in complete disbelief at the sudden shift between the two of you, the magnetism drawing you together. He moves in closer to you, so close you can feel his eyelashes as they flutter against your skin and his breathing grows slightly heavier. 

“Y/N, did you find them?” Mingyu calls from the other room. You’ve never moved away from a person so fast, separating yourself from Wonwoo immediately. You clear your throat, maintaining eye contact with Wonwoo, still flustered. 

“Yep sorry! Just grabbing a drink.” Thinking fast, Wonwoo hands you a can of coke.

“Can you grab me one too?” Mingyu shouts. 

You both laugh quietly as he hands you another. You nod and smile, leaving him in the kitchen and heading back to your food.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

It’s a week before you see him again, your group's last meeting before the final presentation, a chance for you to go over the final details. The meeting is generally uneventful, everyone finally focused on the task at hand. 

“I think if we switch the parts about culture and equity then it would flow better.” Wonwoo suggests.

“Hmm, I agree” you reply nonchalantly because, on this rare occasion, you actually do. 

“What the fuck was that?” Seungkwan whispers to you.

“What?”

“You never agree with him.”

“He made a good point.” you shrug, brushing off your friend’s interrogation. Looking up you catch Wonwoo smiling at you, giggling under his breath like a teenager. You have to stifle the smile that begins creeping onto your face as you watch him. 

“And that is why we believe that absurdism is an essential mindset to have in order to thrive in the modern day.” Seokmin argues, concluding your group project, finally. The six of you share reassuring nods and smiles, you’ve done your best and you’re happy with it, the rest is out of your hands.

As you exit the assessment room, Soonyoung pipes up, “Drinks, drinks, drinks, drinks, drinks?” He chants pointing at each of you as he does, the group mumbles a variety of agreements. 

“Y/N?” Mingyu asks.

“Come on, it’ll be fun, try something new.” Seungkwan whispers. 

You look at your friends smiling eagerly as they wait for your response, with an exhale and a nod, you give in, “drinks.”

At the bar, you crowd a small table, each with a drink in hand, talking and laughing about whatever comes to mind. You play games, sharing embarrassing childhood stories and weird facts you never would’ve learnt anywhere else. You are having fun, smiling, peaceful but, something’s off. You can feel it. He’s been quiet all night, barely even looked at you. It was annoying. It was annoying that it annoyed you, a few weeks ago this would have been normal behavior but now, it was different, it upset you, made you feel like you’d done something wrong, made you feel… unwanted. 

Being truthful, you weren’t really feeling it tonight. If you had it your way you’d be on your couch right now watching a film. You weren’t gonna go, not until you saw his cheesy grin amongst your friends’, so sweet you could melt. He was the reason you went out tonight. Him, and Seungkwan’s words, you should try something new. You had never felt so overwhelmed by your own feelings, one minute you felt nothing short of hatred for Wonwoo and the next… your heart is fluttering every time your eyes meet. 

During your daze, Wonwoo gets up to buy another round for the group, the sound of his chair moving snaps your focus back to the table but he’s already disappeared. You excuse yourself to the restroom, taking the chance to talk to Wonwoo whilst everyone else is distracted. Standing beside him, his eyes are fixed on his phone, reading some kind of article. 

“Are you okay?” you ask him, nervous for his answer - you’re not sure what you’ll do either way. He looks up at you, soft dark eyes taking you in. He stands with an unreadable expression for what feels like forever before he finally opens his mouth to reply and then-

“Wonwoo! Come here quickly, settle this bet for us!” Sometimes, you really hate Soonyoung. 

He shoots you an apologetic look and then, he’s gone, just like that. All the courage you had built up, wasted on an unanswered question. Fuck this. You grab your jacket, shooting Seungkwan a ‘don’t worry I’ll text you later’ look and head for the door. You’re exhausted, tired of it all, you just want to be in your own bed. 

As you walk down the quiet streets, you hear another pair of footsteps catching up to you. 

“Are you okay?” 

You look at him. You’re irritable and know that you’re probably not going to say the right thing but what the hell. 

“So you’re allowed to ask but I’m not?”

“No, that’s not- I… I’m sorry, I never know how to act around you, I never know what to say, I’m always doing the wrong thing but I-”

“Wonwoo.” you interject, “I can’t do this right now. Just… just go back to the bar.”

He doesn't respond, a silent understanding. He doesn’t leave either. He walks alongside you the whole way home, giving you quiet to think, offering you a comforting smile whenever your eyes meet. It breaks your heart just as much as it warms it, that he, despite your outburst, stays by your side when you need someone.

Even if you try to push him away, somehow he knows, he knows that you want him there. 

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

With the group project over, you don’t see him as often as before, hardly ever when you’re alone. You decide to put him out of your mind for a while, to focus on work and the rest of your assignments. Wonwoo, though, seems to have a habit of sabotaging your plans. 

It started off with simpler things, turning up at your work just to place a complicated order, smirking as he watches you struggle with it. Then on exam week, a bag of your favorite snacks appears at your door. On a random Wednesday, he orders a pizza to your apartment. On your birthday, a small cake. And, there’s not a week that goes by where he fails to visit the cafe, you’ve grown to look forward to his bizarre orders and playful teasing. 

Once the professor announces the end of the lecture, you grab your laptop and walk towards the door where you’re met with a familiar face. 

“Ah, the coffee fairy, what can I do for you today?” you greet him, playfully. 

“Can we talk? I’ll walk you home.” he asks, his voice laced with anxiety.

“Okay…” you nod, curious as to why he’s acting this way. 

Walking through campus, he clears his throat, “So…” he trails off.

“So?”

“So I don’t really know how to say this. I mean, maybe you already know but I mean… I’m sorry, I’m sorry if I upset you, or hurt you, or made you angry. If you hate me, that’s okay I just-” 

“I don’t hate you Wonwoo. Not anymore, anyways.” 

He chuckles softly, “Well, I just want you to know that I don’t plan on giving up I… I think this is it for me,”

“It?” 

“You. I think you’re it for me. I think it was over for me the moment I saw you.” He takes a deep breath before continuing, “And I’m sorry about everything. Around you, I just, I forget how to act, I can’t think. It’s all just… you.”

As he speaks, your face begins to heat up under his gaze, a smile appearing on your face as you take his hand in yours hesitantly, squeezing it gently. Suddenly, he stops speaking, pausing to think.

“Wait… what do you mean you don’t hate me anymore?” You can only laugh at his question as he pulls you closer to him. 

The walk back to your apartment is nice, peaceful even, like this is where you’re meant to be. You turn towards him to say goodbye and thank him for walking so far out of his way. He can’t hide his shyness as he says goodbye, stammering slightly with rosy cheeks. You look at him, hoping for more, but his eyes are fixed to the floor as he blushes. You laugh quietly, finding him incredibly endearing before turning away to enter your apartment. 

Suddenly, you feel his hand reach for your arm, “wait.” he says, spinning you back to him. 

The action happens so quickly, you’re basically pressed up against him, one of your hands finding his bicep to balance yourself. You look up at him, it’s clear that he’s still nervous but he’s doing his best to play it cool, his hand rests on your lower back as he pulls you even closer. The way he’s looking at you, like you’re the only thing he’s ever known, sends the color to your cheeks and you can feel your heart beating faster by the second. 

His other hand finds your jaw as he leans his face closer to yours, his breath tickling your lips. His soft, puppy dog eyes search yours for consent, and just like in Mingyu’s kitchen, you can muster up nothing but a nod, your breathing getting shallower with anticipation, hunger. 

His lips delicately brush yours, cautious and timid. You kiss him back warmly, he tastes like peppermint and cola, both new and familiar at the same time. He leans into you more, growing more confident as you part your lips, letting him explore you further. You fall into a perfect rhythm with butterflies fluttering throughout you and your grip on the other becoming firmer.

Remembering that you need to breathe, you break away from each other slowly. He rests his forehead against yours, sharing your breathless giggles and smiles of relief. 

“Jeon Wonwoo.” you whisper, still in a daze.

“Hmm?” he hums happily.

“I’m pretty sure I don’t hate you anymore.”

“Only pretty sure?” he jokes, feigning upset.

“100% sure.” you correct yourself with a happy grin.

“Good.” he says, pecking you softly and then pressing another kiss against your cheek. “I almost went insane waiting for you to realize.”

“Realize what?” 

He pulls you into a warm, strong hug, resting his head on your shoulder before whispering “That it was always you and me.”

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

“What’s going on with Wonwoo?” Seungkwan asks on your way to class two days later.

“What do you mean?” 

“Something’s different… he’s brighter.”

“Why would I know anything about it, none of my business” you state, biting your lip to hide your knowing smile. 

“Oh come on, don’t act like you haven’t noticed!”

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bro, he didn’t stop smiling the entire time he was there, it was weird. He even spoke differently, lighter.” 

You hum a manufactured surprised response as your friend continues. 

“Maybe he met someone, he always talks about that person he’s liked since he moved here, maybe he finally made a move - i hope so I don’t know how much more of his schoolboy pining I can take.” 

Your gaze is glued to the floor as you listen, knowing that you were the reason for all his changes and that he was the reason for all of yours. That he made the world seem new, brighter, happier. 

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

“Are you okay? We haven’t talked in a few days.” Wonwoo says over the phone.

“I’m sorry, it’s just my thesis, I feel like I’m never gonna leave this apartment again.”

“That’s okay! I get it,” he reassures you, “talk to me about it.”

He listens intently as you babble about your thesis, humming along, asking questions and offering advice. Whilst you explain the block that you’re facing currently, there’s a knock at the door. Getting up from your laptop to answer it, you continue, “And now, I’m not sure where to go next.”

“With me.”

“Huh?” 

Opening the door, he’s stood in front of you. His dark hair falling perfectly, as he runs his fingers through it, still holding his phone to his ear with a sweet smile and pride in his eyes. 

Hanging up the phone, he clarifies, “take a break, let’s go for dinner.” 

And how could you deny such a pretty face? 

Walking the streets, he speaks passionately as he shows you his favorite spots around the city and you find yourself just happy to be here with him, to witness his excitement with a cheesy grin that you reserve for only a few people in your life. 

“You’re quite the sweet talker, Jeon Wonwoo.” you say, giggling. 

“Of course,” he responds proudly, “How else would I get to have you by my side?” With that he pulls you into a hug, his strong arms wrapping around you, swaying playfully from side-to-side and holding you as if you’re all he needs with him right now. 

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

The elevator dings as the two of you stumble inside, your arms resting on his shoulders. Looking at him with adoration as he turns you gently, reaching his hand out to clumsily press the elevator buttons behind you. You giggle between kisses as you find your balance, clinging onto each other. You hardly notice when the elevator rings again outside your apartment, too busy with your hands tangled in his hair and his palms running across your sides in painstaking seduction. 

Then he’s guiding you out of the elevator, hands still firm on your hips and not daring to break away from you for even a second. He slips his hand into yours, taking your keys and mindlessly fumbles to unlock the door.

It takes mere seconds once the door opens for him to slam it shut and have you trapped against the wall, he moves against you sloppily, licking into you with pure hunger and adoration, a tsunami of lust as his groans echo throughout your body. 

“Fuck. If you’d just spoken to me on that first day, I would’ve made you mine then and there.” he whispers against your skin, trailing electric kisses down your jaw towards your collarbone. 

You laugh in shock, lifting his lips back up towards yours, his cold hands sneaking underneath your shirt as you kiss him back feverishly. “Me? No, you were the one who ignored me.” 

“Hmm” he responds breathlessly, turning you around and leading you to your bedroom. Drawn together like magnets, you both stumble across the room, hands and lips battling for the next sweet taste, the next wanting touch. 

“Look how far…” his lips find yours again, “just a bit…” and again, “of communication can go” you finally manage to moan out. 

“Are you gonna stop talking and be mine now or…?” he whines as you drag against his lips. 

You giggle softly as he lifts your arms to rest around his shoulders, pulling you in by the waist before his soft mouth is reunited with yours.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

You could never have imagined that you would come to find a safe space in Wonwoo. That you would eventually know him better than yourself. That the man you loathed, competed against, fought, would be yours. The man whose presence bothered you would soon be the one to hold your hand through good news and bad. That his happiness was your happiness, his sadness, his pride, his love. 

You never could have imagined that he would be the one waking you up on Sunday mornings with sweet kisses on your collarbone. That, at night you would be drawing idle patterns on his chest. That even after waking up from your dreams, he’d still be there holding you. That his touch was the only thing you craved, his kisses your favorite greeting, his voice your favorite song. His gaze and gooey brown eyes which used to irritate you to no end, would soon become your lighthouse in the storm.  You never could have imagined that you would love Jeon Wonwoo.

taglist: @peachytokki @aidanjoon @mykpopficblog @cheeseburgerjuseyo

[space-cowgirllll]

Right Where You Left Me

a/n: I was going to wait to post this but I had written a lot more than I thought the last time I touched this. A little lengthy bc I’m a yapper but here's part two of Tolerate It. I'M SORRYYYYY 🥹

The flurries Abby had seen as she walked into work this morning quickly turned into actual snowfall. Twelve hours later, everything around her is covered in a thick blanket of white snow. Traffic had been worse than usual, making her already shitty commute twice as long. A breath she hadn't realized she was holding leaves her when she finally pulls up to the curb in front of her home. She's safe. Forcing her frozen fingers to uncurl from the death grip she had on the steering wheel, she parks the car, cursing when she feels it slide just a little. She was due for a tropical vacation soon. 

Despite her disdain for the snow, Abby can admit the quaint neighborhood looks beautiful. Thousands of multicolored lights adorn the houses and yards around her. Laughter from the kids having a snowball fight across the street fills the night air. Their giggles make Abby's heart feel a little lighter. A couple of her neighbors have their curtains drawn, displaying their immaculately decorated trees. It reminds her of those cheesy hallmark movies she secretly loves watching. 

Abby cringes when she realizes her house is the only dark one on the street. In her mind she can see the purple Post-It still stuck to the fridge reminding her to pull the outdoor decor down from the attic and actually decorate. The red plastic tubs have been sitting at the top of the steps for weeks. She trips over them constantly, telling herself she'll get to them tomorrow, but it seems there were just never enough hours in the day. Eighty hour work weeks left little room for anything else- not that she had much going on. If she wasn't at the gym, or catching up on some much needed sleep, she was at the hospital. 

Her head hits the steering wheel in defeat when she taps the screen on her phone and catches sight of the date. It's the twentieth of December.  

"Too late to do anything about it now." She mumbles to herself. Her palms dig into her tired eyes. Today was truly the day from hell.

But the universe doesn't seem to be quite done with her just yet. Over the hum of her ac blowing she hears a familiar tune. Her head snaps to the radio in recognition. Her usual radio station has switched over to playing nothing but Christmas music for the night. It's your favorite song. Shit. Her shaky index finger blindly reaches for the button to kill the engine before throwing the door open, jacket forgotten in the passenger seat. 

She shivers as she speed walks to her front door trying her hardest not to slip on the icy sidewalk. The straps of her work bags dig painfully into her right shoulder when she bends down to collect the multiple packages that had accumulated on her porch. After days of ignoring them, they were starting to block the doorway. But hey, at least this year she had gotten ahead on Christmas shopping. 

These days it was all about the small wins. —

Abby drops the mattress she dragged out of the guest room in front of the fireplace with soft grunt. She hasn't done this in years, but she needs it today. This had been one of your favorite ways to unwind after a long week. Always there waiting for her with a big smile and her favorite snacks, a movie waiting to be played on the tv. In the later months of the year, around the holidays, Abby could always count on finding a pair of pajamas for her that matched yours laid out on your shared bed. She had always thought it was kind of silly when you had a perfectly good bed and tv upstairs. Now, she could only dream of coming home after a long day to a warm house and you bundled up in blankets waiting up for her.

It's quiet as she stares out the window watching snow fall. Her head is fuzzy from the wine and she knows she's going to regret it tomorrow. The movie she randomly picked half an hour ago is now muted. She can hear the distant buzzing of her personal phone from somewhere in the kitchen, but she can't be bothered. Calls from her family trying to confirm next weeks plans go ignored. Abby loves them, but the thought of being asked if she was ready to start dating again before trying to set her up with the friend of a friend for the fifth year in a row made her want to cancel her flight home. She can't stand the pity in their eyes every time they look at her.

Bleary eyes roam around the room, the sight of  the unlit, half-decorated tree in the corner and the lone stocking missing its pair hanging off the mantle make her chest hurt in a way it hadn't in a while. It may not look like it, but she had tried. Most of the Christmas stuff actually made it out of the attic this year. Which is more than she can say for last year, and the years before that.  She'd finally gotten the tree out and decorating had been going well, until she pulled out that ornament. 

The little house you had custom made to look like a tiny replica of the first place the two of you were sharing as a married couple. Abby remembers how excited you'd been, staying up waiting for her to come home from a late night so you could open it together. The look in your eyes as you traced over the details, the names stamped on the back. You made her hold it as you hooked it onto the tree, wanting to do it together.

Her fingers trace over the pink floral pattern on the sheets. You'd picked these out, excited to host her parents over the thanksgiving holiday for the fist time. Abby didn't have the heart to change them out. Minus your personal things, she didn't have the heart to make any changes to your original decor. You'd made the house a home. Some nights she swears she can catch a whiff of your favorite candle, or the lavender spray you'd douse the pillows with before going to bed. 

Abby gives up, shutting the tv off and settling into her pillow, ready for today to be over. She can't help but feel silly laying here in the dark by herself. Nights like this had been more fun with you around. Everything in her life had been more fun with you around. 

You made Abby's life magical, she just hadn't realized it until it was too late.  ---------------------------

Abby watches you push your food around your plate out of the corner of her eye. The scraping of the fork makes it hard to focus on the conversation happening in front of her. Would it kill you to at least try to look interested? Her hand lands on your upper thigh, squeezing lightly to get your attention. The two of you exchange subtle glares. 

It isn't until her colleagues retreat back to their own table that she finally looks at you. You're swirling the ice in your drink around with a straw. Your gaze fixed on the window, staring out at the busy street. She had thought a nice dinner at your favorite restaurant would soften you up a little, but with how little you've spoken all night and your plate still full, she's starting to worry. 

After an explosive fight the morning after she'd forgotten your wedding anniversary, you'd been distant. In all the years Abby had known you, she could count on one hand the amount of times you'd fought, and even then the two of you could never stay away for long. Communication was one of the things you prided yourself on the most, never wanting to go to bed angry at each other. But it's been three weeks and Abby realizes she's really fucked up. 

"Alright, what's going on with you?" 

"Oh, now you notice." You retort. Her eyebrows knit together, surprised at the thinly veiled anger in your voice. 

"You're so dramatic." She huffs. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

Your eyes shift to the side, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. She can practically see the gears turning in your head. You're holding your tongue. 

"Abigail, let's not do this right now." You beg. "Please."

"No. We're going to talk now." She speaks lowly, grateful for the little privacy the corner table provided. "Sitting in silence isn't going to make this go away. Stop being childish and tell me how to fix this." 

You looked her in the eye, no longer seeing the person you fell in love with. Knowing that if you stayed you'd end up losing yourself in someone who couldn't love you the way you deserved anymore. There was no way you could have the family you wanted with someone who constantly prioritized their work, making you feel like you were the distraction. 

Your lips part on a shaky exhale. You can't keep lying awake at night contemplating this. You have to do it now. From the corner of your eye you can see the couple at the table closest to you subtly lean towards you. 

Abby leans back in her seat waiting for you to speak up. Her arms folded across her chest. The way her leg bounces up and down gently shakes the table. Something about the dejected look in your eyes makes her panic inside. 

"I want a divorce."

---------

Department store wrapping stations were a small luxury Abby didn't mind spending the money on. She wasn't the best gift wrapper, often leaving rips or weird folds on anything that wasn't shaped like a box. 

She stands in line with all the other last minute shoppers, people watching when her eyes fall on the last person she thought she'd ever see again. Abby swears she must be dreaming. Her knees nearly buckle when she sees you standing there slowly making your way through a rack of baby clothes. A little boy no younger than two perched on your hip, his leg trying to sit comfortably against the small swell of your stomach. He's a carbon copy of his mother. Abby sees you wherever her eyes land on his face. 

Your hair is longer, framing your pretty face. There's a glow to you that she doesn't remember seeing in those last two years of your marriage. Your eyes are tired but bright, even from here Abby can see the way they sparkle when you stare at the little boy in your arms. Nothing like the cold way you'd looked at her that fateful night. 

Her heartbeat pounds in her ears as she steps out of line, making her way to a more secluded section of the store. Hiding behind a tie display she watches you interact with your son. For a moment she pretends that you're still hers and that the last five years didn't happen. Pretends that she didn't fuck up the best thing that had ever happened to her. God, she feels like a delusional creep. 

A tall woman walks up behind you, making a silly face at your toddler. You smile when he reaches out for her, trading the boy for the to-go cup she was holding out to you. Abby doesn't have to guess what you're drinking. She knew how much you hated coffee, preferring hot chocolate to keep you warm in the colder months. Her stomach bottoms out when you raise the cup to your lips.

A ring that isn't hers sits on your finger. 

Abby didn't realize how big of a gut punch that would feel like. While you still spoke to her parents from time to time, they made sure not to relay any information to her. She knew you wouldn't stay single forever, but actually seeing you like this ripped apart whatever was left of her heart.

You'd gone silent on social media since the split. A new and private Instagram account was all she could find one night after she'd been drinking a little too much. She'd cried herself to sleep, wanting nothing more than to be a part of your world again. 

She studies your wife, who's everything Abby isn't. Her long brown hair is pulled back in a loose bun, the pink knit beanie on her head matches the scarf currently wrapped around your neck. Dark eyes watch your face intently with a smile as you hold up a onesie to her. Abby looks down at her old college sweats and worn sneakers, nothing like the well put together outfit she's wearing. The woman even looks like she gets more than five hours of sleep each night for crying out loud. 

She looks happy. Something Abby hasn't been for a long time.

And judging by the way you're looking at her, like she hangs the stars in the sky, Abby can see how happy you are. She bites the inside of her cheek, refusing to remember what it felt like to have you look at her that way. Tears prickle in her eyes as you make your way down to the front of the store, dramatically blowing kisses at the giggling toddler being carried just a few steps ahead of you. One of your hands rubbing softly at your bump. 

Abby startles when you look back towards the men's section, eyes going straight to the tiny display she stood behind. Of course you spotted her. You lock eyes with her. There's a tiny smile on your face watching her come out of her shitty hiding spot. For a moment you two stand there just staring at each other. Abby's aware you probably look crazy to anyone watching but she can't bring herself to care. 

Those are my sweats. You mouth. Abby releases a watery chuckle she doubts you hear. She looks down, finally noticing the nail polish stain just under her knee. It's purple. Your favorite color. 

The sound of an alarm brings you both back to reality. You give her one last smile, waving as you walk out the doors and into the chilly December air. Her eyes follow you as you cross the street, until you get lost in a large crowd of people. 

Watching you walk away this time feels like a final goodbye. You’d always have a place in your heart for Abby, no longer feeling any resentment towards her. She had been too young and selfish to love you the way you deserved. She can see you've found that. And while she's happy for you, she can't help the tears that spill out once she's in the safety of her car. 

There's a bittersweet feeling in knowing that the world didn't stop spinning for you the way it did for her the day you walked out of her life. 

[anarchywoofwoof]

well

here's the headline some of us collapse-aware folks have been dreading becoming mainstream for a long time now.

this is in a vice article. not some fringe website. this isn't fearmongering. this is reality.

so this isn't a small sample size. this a plea from 163 of of the 195 countries on the entire planet to act.

we have seriously broken something. and badly.

you people literally can't even take someone blocking traffic and making you late for brunch. you shit on Greta Thunberg. you shit on Just Stop Oil. you shit on anyone who tries to make any kind of meaningful difference. and then you say "we need movements." every movement that any radical with good intentions has tried to start in the 1st world on the left has been stomped out by the police time and time again. give me a fucking break.

trapped, is what they mean.

trapped in an unlivable wasteland with no food, no water, and no chance of survival.

millions of people are being forced back into half hour-hour commutes in the name steadying of corporate real estate prices. because a profitable business is more important than a habitable planet to the people with wealth who actually own the means of production.

the fact of the matter is that the rich and powerful will never, ever let you vote their power away and they will never agree to give away by choice. we can sing this song in a million different tunes, but it always has the same words. you gotta eat the rich.

[vice news]