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sohin-ace · 3 years

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Josuke & Okuyasu - Magazine

Inspired by that one fanart I can't use because I can't find the artist.

Enjoy~

'Boys will be boys'.

We don't count the times this excuse was used to justify the hormone-driven and often stupid decisions or behaviors of male teenagers.

This applies to our two protagonists, Josuke and Okuyasu who just happened to be at that age where boys were curious about their own selves but most importantly of course, curious about the opposite sex.

They couldn't really be blamed, sexuality was a normal part of a teenager's life after all. Which may or may not imply them oogling questionable things here and there or watching specific videos, for instance.

Josuke and Okuyasu decided to feast their eyes as a part of their numerous 'bro dates' as they called them, and made it a regular thing.

Of course, they made these moments very secret. Only them could know what sinful things they were doing after school. They trusted no one else than each other and nobody should ever know about their activities.

They especially couldn't let a girl know about their shenanigans. Oh no, that would be an absolute disaster if they were to be caught red-handed by a girl from their school. They would have to carry the heavy title of 'disgusting perverts', stamped right on their foreheads for the rest of their highschool years, if not their life.

One day as they got out of school, they decided to check out the X-rated section of a local konbini, section placed strategically in the far corner of the shop, and opened some nice porn magazine for their needy eyes. As one does.

"Yoooo Josuke check this out!" Okuyasu exclaimed to his friend while pointing to one of the pages, already blushing madly and coughing up an impressed chuckle.

"Oh my god!!" Josuke whisper-yelled to his friend, trying to not catch people's attention. "That's hot! You think those boobs are real?"

They kept on drooling over pictures of sexy women in bikinis or underwear and posing suggestively for 10 more solid minutes, completely forgetting about their surroundings.

They weren't really worried about getting caught as the section they were in was pretty far away from the entrance of the store and nobody really passed by this corner of the shop anyways.

As they were in their own little fantasy world, they didn't notice a certain H/C haired female coming up behind them.

"Hey isn't that the red head girl from last time?" Josuke commented as he pointed at a certain picture.

"The one who was licking a cherry? Yeah I think so." Replied his tan best friend who started chuckling.

"Who even licks cherries like that?"

"I don't know but she can lick my cherry if you know what I'm sayin'~"

They both snorted obnoxiously and stupidly to themselves until they suddenly heard a very familiar someone right behind them.

"Hey guys! What's up!"

The boys jumped, screaming high pitched 'Eeeks' and 'Uwahs' at the sound of your sweet voice startling them into the worst heart attack they'd ever experience, threatening to cut their short lives even shorter.

Josuke nearly dropped the lewd magazine from his clammy hands and they both turned around abruptly, sweating bullets as they desperately and clumsily hid the piece of dirty evidence behind their backs.

'Oh no. God, everything but not this...' They both thought in unison, as if connected.

The last thing they could have ever expected or wanted, was seeing YOU, of all people, here out of all places and now, out of all times. They really had the worst luck. Suddenly, getting struck by thunder seemed appealing.

"O-o-oh hey Y/N-chan..." Okuyasu stuttered shakily, still sweating profusely.

"What uh... Ahem... What are you doing... here...?" Josuke continued clearing his tight throat and eyeing his best friend with rising anxiety.

The boys were silently communicating, trying to come up with anything, any excuse to either hide their shameful crime from you, or make you leave as soon as possible. They had to work their so-called 'bro-telepathy' like they never did before.

"I was passing by to get some strawberry milk, but then I recognized your hair in the distance! I'm so glad to see you!" You smiled angelically at them while showing them your little pink carton of strawberry milk like it was some prize.

You were beaming so brightly at them, they almost had to squint at your radiating light and beauty. Oh no this was bad, they were both striked by you like an arrow right through their heart.

'She.... SHE'S TOO CUTE FOR THIS WORLD!' They both screamed in their heads.

You, in particular, should never know about what they were doing. EVER. You were way too pure and too innocent for this. Who knows what your reaction would be if you discovered their lewd secrets? Would you judge them? Be disgusted by them? Never talk to them ever again? They couldn't possibly risk that.

Sadly, they were not as glad to see you here as you were to see them. You eventually asked them the oh-so-dreaded question that they wished you'd never ask.

"So, what were you boys doing? Reading manga?" You leaned over to the side slightly trying to see what they were hiding behind their backs and they both panicked.

Obviously you didn't notice the big 'R18' sign over all three of your heads and surely, you couldn't know what this part of the store was since you probably never checked it in your entire life.

In an amazingly coordinated moment, Josuke swiftly handed the magazine to Okuyasu while walking towards you, passing in front of the Jobro, the action completely hidden from your sight.

Josuke came in front of you and grabbed your shoulders, smiling big and trying to act as natural as he could.

"Aah um yes! Manga! Actually there's this one manga I wanted to show you, good thing you're here!" The pompadour-haired haafu was still obviously in utter panick, even if he tried his best to play it cool.

As Josuke was trying to deflect your attention from their guilty pleasure, Okuyasu took this advantage to turn around and scurriedly hide the magazine back in it's original shelf.

You were confused at their shady behavior and furrowed your eyebrows a little bit. You noticed Josuke was sweating and panting slightly, but your eyes traveled to Okuyasu fumbling with the magazines behind and you tried to make out what he was doing.

But Josuke wouldn't let you discover their evil plan for anything in the world, and so, he cupped both your cheeks in his large hands earning a gasp from you as he almost squished them, and turned your head back to face him.

He leaned down to your height and your eyes widened, puzzled by his spontaneous actions.

"Y/N Look at me! Look at my eyes!" He stared at you with a serious expression and you blushed at his sudden bold act and how close he was.

"J-jojo...?" You yelped as your heart was beating fast in your chest.

You were so confused as to what the hell was going on and why they were acting so weird. You knew the two could be up to some truly bizarre adventures sometimes, but that was just so strange.

Whatever they were trying to distract you from, it was working. His face was so close to yours, and his big hands were so warm, you subconsciously put your small ones over his wrists in response, face now red with blood and adrenaline.

You were beyond puzzled at everything that was happening, but you were so lost in Josuke's ocean blue eyes, you completely forgot about what Okuyasu was hiding so clumsily.

Speak of the devil, the tan male suddenly came up to you both, and Josuke released you from his grasp as his best friend made a surprisingly genius offer.

"Ohh Y/N, you didn't pay for that milk yet, right? Good, it's my treat then! Josuke, let's get some too! I'm thirsty."

The scar-faced boy casually wrapped a large arm around your shoulders and swiflty turned you around in his strong hold, effectively dragging you away from the adult section of the store, and barely letting you any time to even glance at the overly sexual display around you.

"Eh? What about that manga you wanted to show me?" You looked back at Josuke, regaining your composure slowly.

"Oh that? Never mind, it's not important anyway- Hey Okuyasu, do you want banana flavor or chocolate?" The fourth Jojo quickly changed the subject as he opened the fridge doors and picked up some drinks.

"You guys are acting so weird today..." You loved the boys, and they usually brought you into their messes, that wasn't anything new, but sometimes you really couldn't understand them. "I'll go wait in line while you guys make up your minds."

You gently patted Okuyasu's chest who almost forgot to let you go and you walked away towards the cash register.

When you were finally out of earshot, they both stared at each other, thinking of how they just dodged a bullet so big, it might as well just have been an atomic bomb.

"D-dude... That was so clutch man...." Josuke sighed, still swallowing his stress out and his best friend only shut his eyes and cringed before grabbing his drink.

"Just shut up, let's not talk about it..."

"Aaahh!!" Okuyasu let out a loud sigh of delight as he sipped his banana milk. "Man, that hit the spot."

"Yeah! Nothing better than some fresh milk in the summer. Great idea Y/N."

You three walked out of the store and headed back home, enjoying your drinks. You giggled at their over-the-top reaction and handed them your own carton.

"You guys want to try strawberry flavor?"

"Oohh~" Okuyasu gushed before smirking and taking the item from your hands. "An indirect kiss from my little Y/N! Lucky~"

Josuke gasped and snatched the drink as well, snickering when he was done. "Can't say no when she's the one who proposed huehue!"

"Well you both drank from the same straw, so technically you two kissed too!" You laughed at their priceless shocked facial expressions.

"WHAT?!"

"Naah dude, no homo, no homo." Josuke patted his friend's back, reassuring him with the holy expression famous for saving countless men from potential homosexuality.

Okuyasu sighed in relief. "Yeah, no homo! Still in the bro zone, bro."

You snorted at their questionable reasoning and kept on walking when you suddenly saw two familiar faces coming towards you.

"Oh! It's Koichi and Yukako!" You waved and smiled at the couple who approached you.

"Oh hey guys, what are you doing?" The short male greeted with a smile.

"Oh nothing much, I bumped into them in the konbini." You sheepishly answered and Yukako quirked an eyebrow at the two suspicious looking males next to you.

"Really?" She feigned, still staring at them. "What were they doing without you I wonder..."

"I don't know, reading manga I think? I'm not sure, they wouldn't tell me." You tried to look between her and them and they seemed to glare at the girl as hard as she did them.

"Huh?" She scoffed and shifted her weight on one leg." I bet you guys were reading porn again. Y/N I can't believe your patience around those guys."

"HUUUHHH???" Koichi yelled in pure surprise at the revelation and you three widened your eyes.

"YOU FREAKIN- OH MY GOD SHUT UP!" Okuyasu gasped and screamed at the girl who was smirking in victory.

"W-what?" You stuttered and looked at the two visibly stressed boys. "Po-... I don't- ... What??"

"Y/N DON'T LISTEN TO HER SHE'S LYING!" Josuke guiltily tried to reason as you covered your mouth in shock.

"Well it's the truth, right? Did I hit a sensitive subject, perhaps?" The brunette chuckled cutely, infuriating your friends even more.

"YOU'RE DEAD!!!"

Josuke sprinted towards Yukako who easily hoisted her awe-struck boyfriend over her shoulder and ran for dear life, having no regrets whatsoever.

An old one. A very old fic, it hurts to read it. I'm going to go ahead and post some old stuff I wrote just to get them out of my drafts. I hope they'll be enough for my beautiful gangsters.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #jojo #jojo no kimyou na bouken #writing #x reader #reader insert #jojo part 4 #part 4 #diamond is unbreakable #josuke higashitaka #nijimura okuyasu #platonic #josuke x reader #okuyasu x reader

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celestialrry · 4 years

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gold rush

3.3k

summary: Enemies to lovers, inspired by the lovely Taylor Swift’s Gold Rush!

warnings: mention of alcohol consumption, reader and Harry being bitches, angst, and a good ending bc I can't seem to leave anything on a bad note

If someone asked you to list off everything you hated about Harry Styles, you were positive that you would be talking for a solid 10 minutes. He was the epitome of everything you despised. To be more specific, you despised people who acted “deep”, people who acted humble, people who pretended to be different from the general population, people who acted like they didn’t know millions would drop to their knees with a simple wave or smile, and people who acted perfect. And as far as you knew, that was everything that Harry Styles was.

A famous rockstar and millionaire who comes back to his hometown, which happens to be yours as well, and acts like he wasn’t any different. He pretends to blush when someone would compliment him and ask for a picture, like he hasn't been asked for pictures millions of times before. He waves his black amex card around and buys one fucking coffee with it. You hated him, because everyone loved him.

And of course with your luck, a few years ago when your mom had met his mom at a neighborhood get together, they became best friends, and had made Christmas Eve dinner a tradition between your family and his. That’s where you met him, and that's when your hatred began. You knew who he was and had been a big fan of One Direction (Harry was even your favorite), but after you had had a conversation with him? Let’s say your excitement was diminished.

So here you were, driving through the snow in your rental car to your mom’s house a week before Christmas. Your playlist had changed songs and before you knew it you heard the familiar guitar strums. You couldn't bring yourself to change it, in all honesty you loved Harry’s first album, and most recent album Fine Line. Even though it came out 5 days ago you had it on repeat. As much as you hated Harry Styles, you would always love his music.

After you had arrived at the house you grew up in, said hi to your family and got settled, all you wanted was some coffee. You said your goodbyes and promised to be home soon, and drove through town to the coffeeshop, bundling into your sweater, jacket, and scarf before stepping out into the snow and making your way inside.

The bell rung as you swung open the door and almost immediately you spotted a familiar face, partially covered by a beanie and a scarf. Wonderful, you thought to yourself. You made your way to the counter and ordered a hot coffee and a scone before sitting down at one of the tables on the opposite side of the cafe. Anything to avoid him.

You heard your name phrased like a question and looked up, your eyes following from the Chelsea boots on the tile, to the trousers, then jacket covered sweater, scarf, then his face. Your chest clenched in frustration. “Harry.” You nodded back, making it obvious you wanted nothing to do with him.

He definitely did not get the hint because almost immediately the seat in front of you was taken over by his presence. “I didn’t think the Grinch would be n’town so early.”

Your cheeks burned and you quickly shot back. “And I thought Scrooge was dead by now but I guess I was wrong,” You rolled your eyes. “Also, are you sure I’m the one out of both of us who’s the Grinch, look at your sweater.” You added, eyes trailing down to his light green hairy sweater.

“If we’re basin’ it off looks then yes m’sure you would be the Grinch.” Harry retorted, scoffing.

“Wow Harold! You are just absolutely hilarious, are you sure you went into the right industry?” You raised your brows and gave a fake smile, knowing he could see right through it. Before he could answer, a waitress had brought over your coffee and scone, setting it down on the table.

She looked up at you reciting your order and giving you a smile before she did a double take at the man sitting in front of you. Oh god. “I’m so sorry, but are you Harry Styles?” the girl asked, eyes practically turning into hearts before you.

“Yes, I am, and y’name is?” He asked cheekily, extending a hand for her to shake. She looked like she was about to die as she gently grabbed his hand and shook it, reciting her name like she had attempted to memorize it the night before.

“Well, it’s very nice t’meet you, would y’like a picture?” He asked and you swore you couldn’t roll your eyes back further into your head.

“Oh! Um,” her eyes darted over to you as you sat back in your seat, sipping your coffee. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt anything...” She trailed off as if she was asking for your permission.

You wanted to say she already had anyways, but there was no reason for you to be upset at this girl. You would act like her too if you didn't know who Harry actually was. “Don’t worry, you aren’t.” You smiled at her, genuinely. Maybe she would drag Harry away long enough so you could eat your food and drink your coffee and scram.

She let out a breath it seemed she’d been holding and pulls out her phone. You purse your lips and sigh before offering to take a photo for them. She thanks you about a billion times while Harry stands up from his seat and wraps his arm gently around her shoulders. You stand up as well to get a few decent photos of the two of them smiling and hand the phone back to her. She tells Harry she’s been a fan for years and loves him as well as his music and message and he thanks her for supporting him. That’s the one think you like about Harry, how he truly is grateful for his fans. Everything else sucked. After they get done speaking she noticed your coffee and scone are done.

“God, I’m so sorry, would you guys like any refills or more pastries? It’s on the house.” She smiles, patting down her apron.

You look over at Harry who had sat down again and look back at the sweet girl in front of you. “No thank you.” She nods while Harry repeats your words and head back behind the counter.

“That was nice of you, back there. Thought the Grinch was too mean t’take photos for people.” He chuckled at you.

“If this is your way of thanking me, you aren't doing a very good job Harold.” You said sharply, pulling your coat off the back of the chair.

“It wasn’t m’way of thanking’ you. Y’need to be brought off y’high horse once in a while.” He shrugged like he wasn't just blatantly rude to you. Sure you both had a witty banter but it always seemed Harry took it too far, and well, that's one of the reasons you hate him.

“Maybe apply that to yourself once in a while.” You huffed, shrugging your jacket on and pulling your scarf back on as well.

He ignored your words and raised a brow. “Leavin’ already?”

“Yeah actually, I came here to relax but that's not working out so well.” You gestured between the two of you. You were going to leave it like that but as you stood up you could see the girl behind the counter waving for you to come over. Brows furrowed in confusion you headed over to her.

“I just wanted to say thank you so much for taking photos for us, and Harry looks really happy with you so, thank you for making him happy.” She said quietly so only you could hear. Your eyes widened and you opened your mouth, about to tell her there was no way in hell you’d ever date Harry but the way she looked at you with adoration caused you to smile and simply say, “Thank you.” Before bidding her a good day.

You dug through your bag as you went to go to the door to leave, looking for your car keys when a body appeared in front of you. You stopped immediately, looking to see that fucking grin and a hand holding your keys. “Lookin’ for these?” He teased, waving them in front. You reached out to grab them and he only pulled them away and you quickly realized how this would go.

“Harry, give me my keys.”

“Magic word?” He asked turning his ear towards you. Instead you blew air in it and grabbed your keys when he was distracted, brushing past him to open the door into the freezing air. The sparks you felt as you passed him was definitely because you were cold, right?

Soon it was Christmas Eve and you don't think you’ve ever been dreading an evening more, other than the past few years on this exact day. It was snowing when you and your mom arrived at the Styles household. You knocked on the door loud so you both could be let in as soon as possible.

“Sweetie, I don't think knocking that hard is really welcoming.”

You pursed your lips and turned around to your mom, knowing this was just how she was and you bit back a snarky comment simply replying, “I’m just really cold.”

After those words left your mouth the door opened behind you and you turned around, face to face with the curly headed man-child. He nodded at you, saying your name before calling out to your mom. She smiled and gave him a quick hug before he ushered her in the house, forgetting about you outside. Already a wonderful start to the evening, you thought, sighing as you walked inside onto the wooden floors.

You heard laughs and exclamations in the dining room, and you made your way there, knowing this house a little too well. Anne called out your name as she saw you step in, rushing forward to give you a kiss on the cheek and a hug. “It’s so nice t’see you, love. You get more gorgeous every year.” You but your lip and smiled at her, “And you get younger each year.” You softly said as she laughed and led you over to Gemma.

“Hi Gems,” You grinned, giving her a hug. She returned it, just as happy to see you. Out of the Styles siblings, she was your favorite, obviously, but the two of you had actually become friends, not just family-friends. “Hey, love. Long time no see.” You laughed as you both pulled away. “Too long.”

Your mom had brought over some pie so she sat it down on the dining table where the rest of the food was. “Well loves, let all sit down!” Anne said, taking her seat at the head of the table. You opted to sit in the chair in front of you, while your mom sat to the right of Anne, so she was diagonally across from you. Gemma then took the seat across from you, next to your mom. Oh no. The only seat Harry could sit in would be the one next to you.

He looked around the table and bit his lip as if that would help the situation but he ended up sighing just loud enough for you to hear it as he plopped into the seat next to you. His hair moved with him, falling perfectly into place on his head. Of course his hair would be perfect like he apparently is.

Everyone quickly jumped into conversations about everyone’s life, and what they’ve been doing, focusing on Gemma for the most part as you all dug in to the food. The conversation then led to Harry’s career and life at the moment.

You zoned in after deciding not to pay attention after he started talking to hear him say, “I don’t think m’different, I just have a different job y’know?”

You scoffed out of reflex and all eyes at the table turned to you. “Yeah, a different job that makes you known to millions of people around the world, that in itself changes a person.” You pointed out, taking a sip of your water afterwards.

Your mom hissed your name scoldingly. “That was unnecessary.” she finished, her eyes glaring at you.

Your eyes grew wide as you realized you forgot you were in front of your family, and the rest of Harry’s family.

“It’s okay, Miss.” Harry spoke up with your mom’s name, looking at her for a moment with a smile before turning to face you. “We can have different opinions but y’don't really know me all that well d’you?” His captivating eyes locked onto yours and you suddenly felt small in front of him. Before you could respond Anne exclaimed, “Time for dessert, yeah?”

As everyone went to put their plates in the sink, you trailed behind feeling unusually guilty, not how you normally felt after similar conversations with Harry. Everyone else had picked up conversation again as they made their way back to the table, but you kept your mouth shut the whole time, only mumbling a thank you to Anne who served you your pie. Luckily no one seemed to notice you had decided to no longer talk, it would only make things worse, you believed. Except Harry.

He was talking the whole night, trying to ignore that comment you made, because well, he knew that you were only judging him on the surface level. It was strange to him though, that the assumptions hurt more coming from you than the hundreds of people who made the same ones at him everyday. He wished he could say he expected more from you, but the two of you had been at odds since the first day you met. He had absolutely no idea why you had been so nice, then 15 minutes later you weren't laughing at his jokes and rolling your eyes. he had become so fed up with it, it was safe to say he hated you. He enjoyed teasing you and pushing your buttons, but the true frustration he felt for you never went away after all these years of sarcastic comments and stolen glares.

So why was his chest clenching as he looked over at you to see you silently eating your pie and looking down at the table cover? Harry was sure that he had never seen you so resigned before, usually you had all the things in the world to say.

He worked up the courage to softly knock his fabric covered knee against yours. You looked up at the contact, head turning slightly to look at him, but he was faced to his mom, immersed in whatever conversation they were having. An accident it seemed, that he touched you. It was the most contact the two of you have had since you met him, and only then did you shake his hand.

Soon enough everyone finished their pie and you quickly stood up and offered to take them to the sink while they headed to the living room to have a glass of wine and play some games. As you walked past Gemma she gently grabbed your arm and you stopped, looking at her. “Are you okay?” She asked, her face etched with concern.

“I’m fine Gems, maybe ate too much.” You laughed it off and she took your answer hesitantly before heading to the living room. You reached the kitchen and set the plates and forks in the sink, pulling up your sweater sleeves and tucking back your hair as you started the faucet. You heard the beginning of some Christmas music and knew there was no chance anyone would come back to check on you with Andy William’s voice serenading them with lyrics of “the most wonderful time of the year”. Bullshit, you thought.

You began to wash the plates with a sponge that was on the edge of the sink, and immersed yourself in the soapy water, placing plates to dry on the rack, and returning to wash the next.

“Y’don't need t’be doing those.”

You practically jumped out of your skin when you hear this voice. You lowered the water flow and turned to look at him approaching you on your left. “I know.” Was all you said, as you continued to wash the second to last dish.

His eyes widened at your response. He was ready to hear, “It’s called being polite, Harold. Maybe you should try it sometime.” Or a snarky comment like that. But no. You just brushed him off.

He was about to open his mouth and tease you a bit more, just to hear the you that he knew but you beat him to it. “I’m sorry, Harry. About what I said earlier, and... everything before that too.” You mumbled, focusing your attention on scrubbing the last dish that was definitely clean already.

“Oh! Um, thank you.” Was all he could muster out, his heart beating a thousand times a second, as his cheeks turned red. This was odd.

You waited a bit, in the silence, for him to say more but he didn’t, You sighed, putting the last dish on the rack and wiping your hands dry on the towel before turning to him fully.

“Really? I just apologized for like, everything, and you can't do the same?” You asked, looking up at him exasperated. “I’m not the only one here who has been an absolute asshole, it goes both ways.”

He furrowed his brows and looked at you, the wheels visibly turning in his head. “M’sorry too. I mean it. It’s fitting how y’apologized first though, because y’know, you started it.”

He really needed to stop talking.

You glared at him incredulously. “I started it? When I met you, you didn’t even bother to look at me, not even halfway through our introduction you left to talk to someone else. It was like that the entire day, sue me for reacting like any normal person would.” You said, you gaze now focused on his chest. You deflated a bit, after admitting that to him. It was terrible, meeting someone you had adored for years, only for them to leave and not even finish listening to your name.

His mouth formed an “o” shape as his frustration dissipated. Harry couldn't even argue with you on that, because he remembered that night. One of his mates had called for him and he sped off, leaving you in the middle of one of your neighbor’s backyards during a little get together.

“I-I’m sorry. I remember that, y’didn’t deserve that at all, I was a proper arse.” He managed to get out, his lips turning into a line at the tension.

“Yeah,” you laughed a bit. “Every year I’d just hate you more and more, because every time I saw you it seems you hated me more than the last.”

“The same f’me too, y’know.”

“What?” You looked up at him.

“I hated y’cause I thought y’hated me.” He pointed out, his lips turning up into a grin.

You laughed, your head falling into your hands. “I think we should’ve had this conversation years ago,” You said, looking up at the man who didn't seem so bad anymore. “Do you wanna start over?” You asked.

“No, let’s treat it as a bump in the road, y’know? Kiss and makeup.” He grinned, looking up to the ceiling.

You followed his gaze to see a little brach of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. “That’s an odd place for mistletoe.”

“Doesn't matter, y’have t’follow the rules.” He said cheekily.

He stepped forward as did you, and you brought your hands up to his shoulders. You leaned up and kissed his cheek instead, plush lips against his stubble. You pulled away and smiled at the visible blush on his cheeks.

“You tease.” He laughed, wrapping his arms around you in a warm hug, and in that moment, you finally understood why everyone would die to feel his touch.

low-key hated this ending but its fineee. thank you for all the love <3

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #enemies to lovers

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stylesnews · 4 years

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“Feeling good in my skin/ I just keep on dancing,” Harry Styles sings in his latest single, “Treat People With Kindness.” And in the song’s exuberant music video -- which has garnered 17 million YouTube views and counting since its debut on New Year’s Day -- he does just that: Wearing a sequined jacket and bow tie, he chassés, spins and flutters jazz hands like an MGM musical star (with a little help from his equally debonair partner, Fleabag’s Phoebe Waller-Bridge).

Styles shot the video in early 2019 after several weeks of training with choreographer Paul Roberts, a collaborator since his One Direction days. “I think somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this could be something special,” says Roberts, a veteran stage director and choreographer who’s worked on videos and tours for the likes of Sam Smith, Katy Perry, Diana Ross, and the Spice Girls (their Spiceworld stadium tour).

Watching the explosive fan reaction to Styles’s little known dance talents -- including from the Spice Girls, who've “sent lovely messages" about the video -- Roberts says it seems like "Treat People With Kindness" arrived at the precise right moment. “Most people’s comments are, ‘I’ve not felt that happy for three and a half minutes in a long time,’ or ‘I smiled from ear to ear the whole way through.’ It’s a positive light.”

He spoke to Billboard about Styles’ intensive training process -- and why he wouldn’t be surprised to see him dancing onstage again.

There’s been one pretty overwhelming reaction to this video: “This is the guy who was in the group that insisted they couldn’t dance?!” Did you expect this kind of reaction to Harry dancing? I’ve been with Harry for 10 years: I was with the One Direction boys from the beginning the whole way through their career before they took the hiatus, and they always made a very conscious decision that they didn’t want choreography as part of their brand -- but they did want a kind of disheveled organization in order to allow the cameras and the lighting to stand a chance in terms of presenting them in the best manner possible.

What was very evident to me was that all five of them, and then it obviously became four, they’ve all got their own magic. The only time I’ve experienced that was when I worked with the Spice Girls. I always knew that they had special skills aside from what they were in One Direction, whether it was movement, songwriting, being able to handle the business side of things. For such young lads they were very astute and very decisive. So, getting together with Harry -- he’s a bit of an alchemist, is Harry. Everything he turns his hand to turns to gold. Where did the initial dance-centric concept come from? Harry and the directors, Ben and Gabe [Turner], sent me a video link to the Nicholas Brothers scene from Stormy Weather and Harry asked me, "How long do you think it would take to dance like this?" I was like, "OK, are you being serious?" "Yeah, I’m being serious."

That is probably one of the most standout dance sequences ever captured on film -- so I knew we were aiming high. I said, "Why don’t we go into a studio and let’s workshop some choreography, some moves, some short sequences, and see what your ability is, see how we can tailor this to make you look the best you can possibly look." Obviously it would take some investment in terms of rehearsal and commitment, I told him it would be mentally and physically exhausting, but I thought, "My God yeah, let’s do it; this will be an adventure."

How long did the whole process take? We started in mid-January 2019, and we rehearsed and workshopped for about four to five weeks before the shoot, every day. Both Harry and Phoebe had other things going on, so, for instance, Phoebe was working on the new Bond movie in Canada, so I sent my assistant to Canada to work with her. I stayed in the U.K. with Harry, and then we went to L.A. where Harry shot two more videos, for “Watermelon Sugar” and “Falling.”

What was the process in the studio like with Harry? We didn’t even use his [vocal] track to begin with -- we used different big band songs, some contemporary alternative music. It was just about finding his [movement] language first and foremost. Then we developed the choreography and sent it to the directors, who gave us feedback. We enhanced the work a bit more, and then once we had some really solid sequences, Ben and Gabe storyboarded the scenes against the timeline of the music.

At this point Harry and Phoebe were still working separately, and then we joined forces in London, where we really started to refine these sequences of choreography we’d developed, trying to find the finesse and the style, almost making sense of the movement for them so they felt they had a dancer’s way of working the movement through the body. You’ve worked with a wide variety of artists, many of whom aren’t dancers first. How do you find, as you put it, the “language” of movement that makes sense for each of them as individuals?

I think the general answer is really communicating -- listening and understanding what the artist’s desire is. And also collaborating, so you don’t get too lost in yourself as a choreographer. What looks good on you might not transcend to the artist, or even necessarily the dancers.

With Harry, what was important within the language of the choreography was that it felt joyful and had personality. Him and Phoebe, with the work she’s done with Fleabag, you associate them and what they do with a sense of style, a real confidence, but at the heart of it it’s entertainment. And with the amount of time and budget we had, which was such a luxury in this day and age, we wanted to do something that pushed both of them out of their comfort zones. We tried to make it as athletic as possible but without compromising them as artists and becoming too comedic. We wanted it to be a bit quaint and cute in places, but we definitely didn’t want it to be thought of as nonsensical or silly.

Harry’s movement in the video is so crisp and precise, even his hands and arm extension look very dancerly. Did that come through a lot of specific work with you? As a songwriter and artist, for Harry it’s about detail, about pushing yourself to be the best. He’s always got questions: "Why are we doing that? Should we be doing this?" We got to a point during the rehearsal period where I brought in a ballet teacher, really to just get Harry and Phoebe to open themselves up from behind their shoulder blades, have an idea of extension, the lines that extend from your center all the way to the tip of your finger. I’d be saying, “Your arms Harry, your arm line!” Asking him to push his shoulders down, lift his carriage up, extend through his breast. And when he hit those lines, he’d be like, “Oh yeah, that feels different.” It’s funny: We spent a couple days apart -- he had to go off and do a gig somewhere -- and I was like, “I hope you’re rehearsing when you’ve got some downtime, dude!” And he sent me a picture in the gym with his arms in the most beautiful balletic arm line! I was like, "Yes, by George, you’ve got it!" Besides the Nicholas Brothers, did you have any particular dance references in mind for the feel of the choreography? I just delved into the MGM archives. Obviously [Fred] Astaire and [Gene] Kelly, the two greats -- especially with Astaire, we loved how sometimes it seems so effortless yet a bit throwaway, not totally totally perfect always. We enjoyed the moments from him of “I’ll just do a bit of this,” “I’ll just walk off camera left,” the dropping in and out of movement. We loved the duet “Moses Supposes” from Singin’ in the Rain, for Gene Kelly and Donald O’Connor -- we loved the camaraderie between them, which felt a bit goofball at times, and just that wry smile, the look to the left, knowing your partner is there and has got your back. It feels fizzy, it feels joyful.

And yes, there was a massive core of MGM-ism, but at the same time an absolute huge dollop of Harry-and-Phoebe-ism. It was important to us to feel a bit more contemporary, so again we stay true to Harry and Phoebe as artists. Has Harry indicated any interest in dancing more going forward?

We had a conversation back at the end of the summer about how much we enjoyed the process, and I know he was doing another project where choreography was involved, so we were just talking about it and how he felt. Coming from where he came from to what he was about to do, he felt he could be pushed even further. I don’t know if he got the bug, or if it’s just the way he is as a person, very inquisitive and wanting to keep elevating himself. There’s now been some talk on social media that it can’t be long before Harry does Broadway. What do you think?

I mean, I think with Harry Styles, anything is possible, is it not? I mean, I’m sure because he’s tasted the dance, he’ll inject that along the line in his career. It won’t necessarily be out-and-out dancing, but I guess it’s a bit like Bowie used to do, isn’t it? It’s the showmanship and presentation of the performance. Who knows? He’s just so open-minded and open-hearted — and because he’s so open it allows the universe to come back at him and he’s able to do anything he sets his mind to.

#harry styles #jan21 #paul roberts #billboard #article #tpwkmv

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grandexodus · 3 years

Text

Breaking and Entering (Part Two)

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,106

Content Warnings: discussion of stabbing (wound), stalking, breaking and entering, animal abuse (not explicitly detailed), blood, fighting, light cursing. Fem reader insert, she/her pronouns.

Summary: When the replicator continues their criminal activity, you find yourself as their target upon arriving home from a long case with the BAU. Aaron Hotchner, your unit chief, is more than accommodating during the string of traumatic events that you endure before, during, and after the replicator case.

Previous Part // Next Part

Listen to the playlist based on this story -> Spotify // Apple

“Garcia, go ahead.” Hotch said once everyone was seated at the round table.

“Yes, sir. As we know, the replicator has been recreating cases that we’ve solved. Tonight he changed his m.o. And has targeted the team.” She clicked the button on her remote, and a picture of your apartment came into view. “He specifically targeted y/n, and we’re not sure why.” Another click and your bathroom was on display. “He also took his anger out on, oh God-” Penelope looked away from the screen, “I just don’t understand how someone can do that to sweet, little-”

“Garcia.” Hotch brought her attention back to the facts.

“As you can, unfortunately, see here, y/n’s dog was found dead in the bathroom. The blood used to write ‘zugzwang’ did belong to the four-legged friend.”

“That’s it?” Derek asked, puzzled.

“We’ve been given twenty four hours. If we don’t have any leads, the case closes.” Hotch stated.

“Okay, well, let’s focus on what we know.” J.J. prompted. “He knew we were out of town, and he was familiar with where y/n lived.”

“y/n, could this be someone you know? Someone you could have unknowingly upset?” Blake asked.

Internally, you were panicking and quite frankly nearing hysterical. You outwardly remained calm and composed. “No one I can think of. No one knew I’d be out of town except my sister so she could check on Benny.”

“We’ll need to bring her in for questioning.” Hotch said.

“y/n, did you ever confide in your sister about the cases you’ve worked on?” Reid asked.

“Never. I’ve always kept BAU information confidential. She doesn’t even know any of your names.” You stated, “Though, to be fair, we only ever talk when one of us needs the other’s help.”

“Then I don’t think she did this. If you didn’t confide in her then she wouldn’t have known the significance of ‘zugzwang.’” Reid explained.

“We shouldn’t rule it out just yet though.” Hotch stated, “Y/n, I want you with Garcia. J.J, get in contact with y/n’s sister and have her come in for questioning. Reid, see if you can identify the cases we were on in those photos. Rossi, Blake, and Morgan, I want you with me at the crime scene. Garcia, find out everything you can about y/n’s sister. Let’s go.” Hotch rattled off his orders and everyone went their separate ways.

Penelope came over to help you up. “Can I have a minute by myself. Just to breathe for a moment. I’ll meet you in your office.” You said.

Penelope gave Hotch an inquisitive look, and he nodded to give his permission.

“I’ll see you soon, hun.” Penelope said before leaving.

In a few moments it was just you and Hotch in the room. “I don't know if we can do this in twenty four hours, Hotch.”

“We’ll do everything we can. Like always,” He reassured. You took a deep breath, and he came over to you. “If you need to step away at any point, you have my permission to do so.”

“Thank you, but I want to do this.” He nodded. “I could use a little help getting to Penelope though.”

“Of course.” Hotch had you in Penelope’s office shortly.

“Y/n, you know I hate to dig into your personal life like this, but I need any and all information and gossip on your sister.” Penelope was at the ready. You gave her all the information you know. “Squeaky clean.” Penelope said, the disappointment was clear in her tone.

“Why the disappointment.” You asked.

“She attended an all girl’s catholic school while you stayed in public school. However, there’s no track record of drugs, alcohol, or delinquency of any kind.”

“What?” You were as shocked as she was now.

“What? What do you know?” She met your narrowed eyes with her widened ones.

“My parents said they enrolled her in catholic school because she’d been arrested for public intoxication three different times in middle school. You’re telling me she has no record?”

“Zilch.”

“Call Hotch.” you said.

The phone rang once, “Hotchner.” He answered.

“Sarah went to catholic school because my parents wanted her to stop drinking. They told me she had been arrested three times for public intox, but she has a clean record. We need to find out why my parents sent her off.” You started.

“Put Garcia on.” He ordered.

“Already here, you’re on speaker.” Penelope answered quickly.

“Find out everything you can about y/n’s parents and the school the sister went to. They’re hiding something.”

“Faster than a Hotch rocket.” Penelope’s eyes widened as she realized what she’d said. She hung up.

“There’s still nothi-” Penelope stopped mid-sentence, “Oh no.”

“What is it?” You prompted as you scanned the words on the monitor.

“Your parents sent your sister to St. Elizabeth’s for extensive conversion therapy.” Penelope typed at a lightning fast pace. Her phone rang. Click. “Boy, do I have news for you.”

“Tell me something good, baby girl.” Derek came over the phone.

“I have something, but it’s bad. Sarah was sent to catholic school for conversion therapy.”

“Anything else?” Derek asked anxiously.

“That’s it.”

“Did you find anything at the scene?” You asked.

“Nothing. Whoever did this covered their tracks. Damn well, at that.” Derek sighed. “We’re on our way back, meet us at the round table.”

“Yes, my liege.” Penelope said before ending the call.

“Sarah didn’t do it.” J.J. said as she entered the conference room. “Her alibi is air tight.”

“We’re missing something.” Rossi thought aloud.

“It’s gotta be in the pictures.” Blake observed.

“These photographs, while they seem random, each one was carefully framed.” Reid sat down. “So carefully framed that I can’t get a location on any of them.” He sounded defeated.

“I hate to put the pressure on us even more, but we’ve only got six hours.” Rossi sighed.

“Let’s go back to what we know.” You said, looking over the crime scene photos. “There was no sign of forced entry. J.J., you said Sarah had left the key under the welcome mat. Was the key still there when you guys went to the scene?”

“No.” Blake said. “They had to have been watching Sarah to know that the key was under the mat. She said she only does that when she knows you’ll get home late.”

“I never leave the key under the mat for anyone. Whoever did this knew she’d be at my place.” You stated.

“Y/n, where were you when you told Sarah you would be on a case tonight?” Reid asked.

“I made the call from my desk.” You said. “From my personal cell, I might add.”

“In order to hear the entire conversation this person had to either be standing right next to you, or, and this is creepy, they hacked into your cell to listen in.” Penelope said.

“It’s likely someone on the inside.” Hotch stated. His cell rang shortly after he spoke. “Hotchner.” His expression changed from stoic to frustrated. “I understand that, but not only do we still have a few hours, we’ve made some progress.” His lips formed a tight line. “Yes, ma’am.” The call ended. “Strauss is giving us one more hour.” Hotch said to the team.

“One more hour? What happened to the full twenty four?” Derek asked angrily.

“She believes we haven’t made enough headway to justify the full twenty four hours.” Hotch explained.

“What now?” Reid asked.

“Garcia, pull security footage and see if anyone was close enough to y/n to hear her conversation. Reid, I want you to work on a geographic profile.”

“Hotch, with all due respect, I don’t have enough here for a geographic profile.” Reid stated.

“Maybe not a complete one, but we need anything we can find. Derek, Blake, and Rossi go back to the crime scene and go through everything.” Hotch instructed.

“Everything?” Derek asked, concerned for your privacy.

“It’s fine. I have nothing to hide.” You stated, “Do whatever needs to be done.”

“J.J. and y/n, I’d like you to interview your sister again. See if she noticed anything strange or out of place at the apartment.” Hotch stood up, signaling for everyone to part ways. “y/n, before you go, do you know if there are any cameras at your apartment building?”

“There are, but they’re mainly in the parking lot. Let me get you my landlord’s number.” You pulled your phone out and texted the number to Hotch. The two of you went your separate ways. Him walking at a brisk pace, and you with a limp.

“Y/n.” You turned around and saw Reid with a wheelchair. “It might be a little excessive, but it’s better than limping.”

“Thank you.” You took a seat and wheeled yourself to the interrogation room that your sister was being held in.

“Sarah.” You greeted gently.

“You know they think I did this?” Sarah shouted.

“No one thinks you did this.” You reassured her. “We just had to cover all our bases. Your alibi is rock solid. I do have a few more questions though.”

“What happened to you?” She asked, suddenly changing the subject.

“I’ll explain later, we don't have a lot of time left on the case. I need you to tell me everything you remember from when you checked on Benny.”

“Are you not even phased by this?” Sarah sobbed, “You’re acting like nothing even happened.”

“Sarah, I’m terrified right now, but if my team is going to find who did this, I have to keep it somewhat together.” You explained. She didn’t respond. “What time did you arrive at the apartment?”

“10 p.m.” Sarah said as she began to calm down.

“Did you notice anyone acting strange? Perhaps they were standoffish or overly friendly?”

“No, there wasn’t anyone outside or anything.”

“What about Benny? When you took him out, did he act strange at all?” You kept your tone gentle.

“No, he went potty and we went inside. His behavior was normal.”

“One more question, why do you leave the key under the mat when you know I’ll be home late?”

Sarah began to cry again, “I’m sorry. I only do it so you don’t have to fumble with your keys late at night when you’re alone. It’s just so you can get inside safely and quickly. I won’t do it anymore.”

“Sarah, this isn’t your fault.” You reassured her. Your phone rang, it was Hotch. “y/l/n.” You wheeled yourself away from the table. “I’m sorry, you’re saying the security footage doesn’t exist?”

“The landlord admitted that the cameras are just for show. They don’t actually work.” Hotch was livid at this point. “Did you find anything out?”

“Nothing new.” You sighed.

“Neither has anyone else. The hour’s up. I’ll see you soon.” He hung up.

“You’re free to go.” You said before leaving the room.

“Y/n.” J.J. tried to stop you, but you ignored her. You went straight to your desk. You sat there trying to rack your brain of who could have done this. You weren’t sure how long you had been there, but eventually the team said their goodbyes to you.

“Y/n.” Hotch approached you. You looked up at him. “Do you have a place to stay?”

“I was just going to stay here and get some work done.” You stated. You definitely did not have a place to stay that would be remotely safe, and if you could evade the question by all means you would.

“I mean longer than just tonight. It’s not safe for you to return to your apartment or stay with your sister.” His tired eyes bored into yours.

“No.” You said quietly.

“You can stay with me for as long as you need.”

“Thank you.”

“Come on.” He wheeled you to the entrance before helping you up. He led you to his car and opened the door for you.

As Hotch pulled out of the parking lot he said sympathetically, “I’m sorry we couldn’t work on the case longer.”

“It’s not your fault.” You said tiredly. The remainder of the car ride was silent. You so badly wanted to close your eyes and rest during the drive, but every time you tried all you could see was ‘zugzwang’ written in your dog’s blood. Though he never glanced your way, Hotch noticed your discomfort. He once again found your hand and interlocked his fingers with yours. The action had begun to feel so natural that you almost didn’t notice the butterflies that time.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #grandexodus #grandexodus writes #breaking and entering #spencer reid #alex blake #derek morgan #Penelope garcia #david rossi #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #fanfiction #jj #jennifer jareau #fanfic

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kingstylesdaily · 4 years

Text

How Harry Styles Found His Inner Dancer For 'Treat People With Kindness'

He spoke to Billboard about Styles’ intensive training process -- and why he wouldn’t be surprised to see him dancing onstage again.

At the end of the “Watermelon Sugar” shoot, he wrapped, got in his car, came to the dance studio and we rehearsed into the night. Knowing how short a time you sometimes get with artists even for really big performances, I thought the rehearsals would dilute and we’d lose momentum, but both Phoebe and Harry were so committed. What was the process in the studio like with Harry? We didn’t even use his [vocal] track to begin with -- we used different big band songs, some contemporary alternative music. It was just about finding his [movement] language first and foremost. Then we developed the choreography and sent it to the directors, who gave us feedback. We enhanced the work a bit more, and then once we had some really solid sequences, Ben and Gabe storyboarded the scenes against the timeline of the music.

via billboard.com

#kingstylesdaily #Harry Styles #hs: tpwk #January 2021 #hs: news

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yoshkeii · 4 years

Text

Bokuto Confession hcs!

࿐ character: Bokuto Koutarou

࿐ genre: fluff, soft, confessions!

࿐ requested by: GreenTheSimp on Ao3!

࿐ imagine/scenario: “some Bokuto headcannons on how he asks Khai out? Plus maybe him being a goof towards his s/o.”

A/N: fyi, most of these will be coming from my Ao3 since I started writing there first! it’s not much and i generally don’t proof read these so im sorry if there are small errors, this one is a bit longer since I made two chapters for it. im so bad at writing istg,,

≫ ──── ≪ Confession Time ≫ ──── ≪

❀ First, Bokuto would be oblivious to his crush and his feelings for you till it was brought up multiple times by his team, and eventually at the volleyball camp from the other schools. Most likely Kuroo nagging him about the certain someone, Khai, Bokuto talks about so much.

❀ You and Bokuto were friends for quite some time, maybe at least a year or so. And being in the same class as him, you guys had time to interact with each other and even plan hangouts whenever you could.

❀ And yes, this man talks 24/7 about you without even noticing- this varies from your interactions during the school day, your conversations during classes and lunch, stupid dumb texts you guys have once in a while, the answers you give him from the many of many questions he asked you... the list goes on and on. This makes it easy for his friends to identify his fucking crush on you. him being so oblivious about it hurts their brains istg

❀ He's extremely bubbly around you, super friendly and kind but you usually brush it off as his normal personality. ibetyou'llbeoblivioustooaboutit.

❀ Once Bokuto awakened to his crush and feelings for you he found it extremely difficult to act like it was normal before. The slight blush on his cheeks was a much solid shade. His heart skipping beats every time he saw you walk in the room. Your laugh, your smile, anything about you made him so nervous around you now. When you directly smile at him, hearing your laughs at his jokes or actions will make this man just seize to exist.

❀ Bokuto can't stop thinking about you after that thought, always finding his mind wandering to the dorkiest, sappy shit thing he would do with you.

❀ Sometimes he found himself avoiding you at some points just so he can keep himself in check and not be an embarrassment around you-

❀ He still craves your attention but he gets a lingering fear he might mess something up so he has an internal fight with himself and it just- hurts him sm- poor owl,,

❀ Akaashi finds himself trying to motivate and support emo Bokuto at these moments, usually through texts or calls when they aren't near each other etc.

❀ You would generally think he would just confess to you as soon as he had the chance but actually took this on a slow thoughtful ride. To the point, it did affect his skill at practice, which notified his teammates about it fairly quickly. Bokuto was so deep in thought about it all he was unsure how to process his confession, when, where, what would make you happy, if you liked him back and such.

❀ This eventually leads to him asking Akaashi, the team, and friends (from the other teams' ofc-), on how he should confess to you. All of the answers didn't seem to fit Bokuto in a comfortable way either, which is hella surprising. Before he decided to do something pretty simple.

❀ Earlier today, Bokuto asked you to wait for him a few minutes after class. Knowing you two had different club activities after school, him having volleyball and you have [Khai's favorite activity]. It was the best option to get your attention since your clubs ended at different times made it difficult. And so you did, meeting him outside of your classroom, just you and him.

❀ Bokuto felt anxious about being alone with you, especially like this.

❀ "Hey, Khai..?"

❀ "What is it, Bo?"

❀ That little nickname you gave him, always and I mean always made his heart skip 10 beats. The blush on his cheeks grew a shade darker.

❀ "Wanna walk home.. t-together...?" Bokuto quickly mustered out the words, knowing his throat would dry up sooner or later.

❀ Both of you actually took a similar route home after school, which you guys figured out on a rainy day.

❀ "Oh, sure! Don't you have practice though?" You tilted your head innocently, your hair moving as well revealing the smallest of details that made Bokuto swoon.

❀ "Coach said we should rest for our game tomorrow"

❀ "Ah- that makes sense, I forgot about that-" You giggled lightly before you took the lead of heading out of the building.

❀ Bokuto froze at your giggle before you dragged him behind you. Your hand softly around his wrist. "C'mon slowpoke," you teased.

❀ He smiled slightly before he caught up to you. Walking aside from you at the same pace.

❀ It was an awkward walk. Bokuto was oddly quiet which made you slightly worried.

❀ "Bokuto? You alright..?" You finally broke the silence, looking up at the Ace to your right.

❀ "P-perfectly fine!"

❀ "You stuttered."

❀ "Did... I..?"

❀ "Yes, dummy- What's wrong?"

❀ "I-... Damn it. Khai."

❀ Before you knew it, he pulled you into a kiss. His large hands cupping your face as he planted his lips softly onto yours, pulling away from a little with only a few inches from your lips. Bokuto looked straight into your brown eyes, staring back with his golden eyes. The blush on his cheeks flushed with shades of red.

❀ "I like you. Wait- No.. I love you." Bokuto muttered softly, feeling his breath on your lips made you shiver.

❀ You just giggled, before it grew into genuine laughter. He widened his eyes removing his hands from your face.

❀ "H-hey..!! What's so funny!?"

❀ "It was so obvious Bo~"

❀ "Was.. was it!? I-"

❀ You cut him off, "I love you too Koutarou."

❀ Him hearing you use his first name WITH you saying ily to him, made his day. A bright smile plastered on his face, he hugged you lifting you up and kissing your face all over.

❀ "HEY HEY HEYYYY!! Khai likes me back!! Actually, Khai LOVES me!" Bokuto exclaimed happily

❀ After that, Bokuto was back to his normal, loud, excited self throughout the walk. You guys began to have your simple conversations again, him poking you with questions trying to get to know you even more. Having the lingering doubt he had from rejection and negativity was lifted-off from him. He even mentioned having your first date so soon-

❀ He couldn't wait to bring the news to his team and friends.

❀ He can't wait to see you by his side every day.

≫ ──── ≪ Confession Aftermath ≫ ──── ≪

❀ After the confession, Bokuto would rarely ever leave your side. So he does get clingy to you as he does with Akaashi. He's not much for PDA but he's also not against the thought, he unconsciously hugs you, wrapping his arms around your torso, waist, arms, and sometimes around your neck at least- Sometimes light kisses and pecks but those are generally rare unless he's really excited about something.

❀ He gets really flustered sometimes when you addressed him as your boyfriend the first few days and maybe weeks after starting the relationship. He's just not used to it- It gives this hunk of a man butterflies in his stomach a lot.

❀ Whenever you guys had to leave each other for your designated classes, you tend to find cute notes in your locker whenever you open them. Having cute phrases, flirts, compliments, and silly pick-up lines. You already knew it was from Bokuto because you... sometimes catch him lurking around your locker- just never brought up to him knowing it would genuinely make him sad.

❀ Bokuto just finds it cool that you don't know at first okay-

❀ You always tried to go to his practices and even games when you guys were just friends. Knowing that if Bokuto saw any of his friends out in the stands made his confidence skyrocket so much-

❀ But since you guys are now in a relationship, it makes Bokuto smile so much every time he spots you in the stands of the crowds. Cheering him on boosts his confidence so fucking much- like if this man is in emo mode please cheer for him, it helps a ton (Akaashi and the team might thank you also-)

❀ Long-lasting phone calls that continue till like 3-4 am. Sometimes facetime/video calls if you both have the ability to! He loves seeing your face, he finds it so fucking adorable with all your smallest features and details.

❀ Bokuto probably changed your contact name on his phone to something like "baby owl" with like emojis or something- or literally, just nick (pet) names he has for you- "baby, bae, cloud, cutie, feather, angel, king/queen, prince/princess" and so on. He looooves having names for you because it makes him smile every time he finds things that remind him of you (which generally is how he figures some of them out-)

❀ Whenever this man finds you sad, upset, stressed, or literally in any negative emotion. He will try his damn hardest to make you feel better even if its the slightest, and if it is the slightest he'll keep going to you are perfectly fine and dandy.

❀ He'll even go out of his way to skip practice if needed to comfort your sad butt- He'll give you cuddles, so many cuddles. He's practically a cuddle monster so better prepare for how long you'll stay in his arms afterward-

❀ Whenever you guys are just cuddling in general, he loves to nuzzle his face into your hair, your neck, and shoulder. Just craving the touch and comfort of his lover. Even if it's the slightest of motion, he'll take whatever he can get!

❀ Continuing on the cuddling situation, one of the secret things he loves about you is how you smell. The shampoo you use for your hair, the body wash, perfume or cologne.

❀ Since it's fall season (as of I'm writing this ofc-), Bokuto will drag you around for some walks in the cool weather through parks. Honestly hoping to find leaves to pile and fall into with you! I'd think one of Bo's love language would be quality time (and words of affirmation.) So hanging out with him makes this owl the happiest man to walk on this planet.

❀ Whenever you are cold on these walks, he won't hesitate to wrap his arms around you. If it's a specific part of your body that is cold, for example, your hands. He'll definitely hold his hands over yours. Maybe planting a kiss on them afterward (accidentally getting flustered seconds later-)

❀ Bokuto might also just stare at your hands clasped together, noticing the size difference for the 100000000000000th time

❀ Honestly, he likes to use Instagram and Snapchat filters with you. It's really cute af,, he's such a dork for couple things

❀ Body issues? Bokuto will love every part of you no matter what, comforting that every part of your body is perfect as it is. He'll softly plant kisses wherever you feel insecure. He'll cuddle you till you agree with him that you are a perfect human being.

❀ Don't try to sneak out of it. He's hella stubborn with topics like these- He ain't that dense and dumb guys,,

A/N: I love me some Bokuto huuuuu

#at-dusk;- 🌆#folder 📁;- 𝙷𝚊𝚒𝚔𝚢𝚞𝚞 #bokuto x reader #bokuto x male reader #bokuto x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #x reader #x male reader #bokuto imagine #bokuto headcanons #bokuto koutarou #soft headcanons #fluff headcanons #confession headcanons

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shirtlesssammy · 3 years

Text

6x21: Let It Bleed

Then:

Dean and Cas broke up

Now:

March 15, 1937

Providence, Rhode Island

It was a dark and stormy night, and HP Lovecraft sits at his typewriter clicking away. He finishes his manuscript, and his door slowly creaks open. He pulls out a revolver and heads to the hallway, but quickly backs back into the room and locks the door. A window blasts open and a shadowy figure is there. He pleads with it --but becomes blood cannon fodder anyway.

Dean continues to dissect what could have gone differently to prevent his breakup with Cas. Sam tries being the logical friend --but there’s no explaining heartbreak, folks. Bobby comes in to tell them that when Cas popped in for his late night tet-a-tet with Dean, he stole a journal. But don’t worry, Bobby had a copy.

Upon reading it, Bobby discovers a mention of HP Lovecraft. Dean doesn’t know who that is --and you’re going to tell me the dude that knows horror movies like the back of his hand and reads Stephen King doesn’t know who the father of horror is? And I know that Dean lies to cover up things he thinks other people would look down on him for, but this would be a weird moment to do that.

Anyway, Bobby thinks Lovecraft knew something about purgatory.

Meanwhile, Ben is chilling in his room reading Cthulhu graphic novels while his mom is watching the sportsball with her new beau. Demons bust in and gut the boyfriend right away. One takes after Ben. Ben gets to his room and calls Dean in a panic. He doesn’t know what’s out there and he can’t get to the shotgun in Lisa’s closet. Dean tells him to jump out his window. It’s too late --Crowley’s there and has both Ben and Lisa.

Crowley tells Dean that no harm will come to them if he backs off from the purgatory plan.

Sam throws some salt on Dean’s wound and asks if Cas knows about this. “We gotta assume that he does.” OUCH.

While Bobby heads off to follow the Lovecraft lead, Dean and Sam set to finding Lisa and Ben. They summon Balthazar and tell him that Crowley is alive. He blinks and tells them Cas already informed him. They then tell him about splitting the souls in purgatory plan. Balthazar knew that too, ahem. He refuses to help find Ben and Lisa.

Sam thinks they should call Cas. “WE’RE NOT CALLING CAS.” This is a man in pain, Sam, he needs time.

Bobby, meanwhile, interviews someone who possesses a large collection of Lovecraft’s private letters. He asks about March 10, 1937 specifically, and the dude wonders if he’s working with the other guy --”trench coat, looks like Colombo, talks like Rainman.” We’re supposed to assume he’s describing Cas, but ?? okay. They’re competitors actually.

The guy tells Bobby that Lovecraft had a dinner party with other blackmagic followers. They were getting together to perform a ritual to open a door into another dimension. He has --or had-- letters describing the dinner. Bobby leaves, knowing exactly how the letters disappeared.

Bobby discusses the case with Sam, revealing that one guest of the party -the maid’s son- didn’t die and has been in a mental ward since that night. He’s gong to interview the man now.

Dean, meanwhile, is lining the demons up and taking them down if they don’t answer his questions.

For Murderous Rampage Science:

Sam tries to get his brother to take a break, but Dean is 100% on an emotional bender and will not stop. Sam then heads outside to pray to Cas --pleading with him to bring Ben and Lisa home.

When Cas doesn’t appear, Sam walks away, dejected. Only Cas is there, invisible to Sam. AND I WANT TO TEAR OUT MY EYES.

Cas confronts Crowley. Crowley was “merely exploiting the obvious loophole.” Cas demands he tell him where they are.

Crowley tells Cas the only way to save Lisa and Ben is for him to find Purgatory.

For Literal Science:

Cas flaps away when Balthazar summons him. They meet in a wooded area, and Balthazar confronts Cas about his partnership with Crowley.

Balthazar confirms that Cas would be the vessel to take on the souls from purgatory. He could explode from all that energy. Cas assures him he won’t (weeps). Cas demands Balthazar tell him if he’s with Cas, and Balthazar laughs but agrees.

Bobby interviews the maid’s son, and discovers Cas was already there. Bobby asks for the story. The man tells what was said at the time, but then asks, “Do you believe in monsters?” He tells Bobby that the door did open that night, and whatever came through took over his mother. Then the others died. Bobby gives his condolences to the man, and he shows Bobby a picture of his mother. Bobby recognizes her.

Dean prepares his Tortures for Demons™ when his foot drags part of the devil’s trap away. The demon immediately gets the drop on Dean, only for Cas to flap in (or turn visible) just in time to save Dean’s bacon.

Dean’s...ungrateful. Surly, even! Cas apologizes about Lisa and Ben, and he’s hurt when Dean doesn’t believe that he had nothing to do with their abduction.

“Dean, I do everything that you ask,” Cas pleads. “I always come when you call and I am your friend - still. Despite your lack of faith in me, and now your threats.” Cas is just asking for backup this ONE TIME. (And you know what? Knowing the crap these Winchester boys have pulled, I always felt like Cas made a good point here.) They lob soulful looks at each other. Cas promises to rescue Lisa and Ben if Dean will just PLEASE stand down and let him absorb every single monster soul EVER it’s NOT A BIG DEAL. This is entirely the wrong tactic, and Dean tells Cas to go back to Crowley and he’ll save Lisa and Ben on his own.

Cas flaps away. Soulfully.

Bobby arrives at Eleanor-the-Dragon’s door. She’s at a little cabin in the middle of nowhere - one of her safe houses. He confronts her with the old photo and demands to know her agenda. “You know, we’re not all alike,” she retorts. She reacts similarly poorly to Bobby complaining about sleeping with her without knowing she was a monster. BOBBY! WASH YOUR MOUTH OUT RIGHT NOW. She tells him that the world’s lucky that she’s who popped through the portal. The professor is on Team Earth. Bobby begs to know the secret of the portal so that he can protect her from Cas.

Balthazar flaps in on Sam. He’s joining Team Winchester because he’s terribly concerned about Cas’s life choices. He flies them close to Crowley’s angel-warded lockup, and Dean and Sam swoop in to save Lisa and Ben.

They split up inside the warehouse - always a sensible plan. Sadly, Sam “Soft Noggin” Winchester gets knocked out IMMEDIATELY. Sam plz. Dean bursts into Lisa and Ben’s prison like a little angry blur of knives and in short order, he’s killed all the demons standing guard. They start to flee, when Lisa holds Ben at knifepoint, her eyes flashing black.

The demon goes all in on the mental torture, telling Ben that Dean’s his real father (JK!) and that Dean is Lisa’s WORST EVER MISTAKE. While Dean catalogues the internal damage, he and Lisa fight. He sheathes the demon blade and starts an exorcism, and I look directly at the camera. Demon Lisa’s got another trick up her sleeve. While the exorcism progresses, the demon grabs a tool and jabs it into Lisa’s gut. Then, she gives Dean a choice: exorcise her and Lisa bleeds out or let Lisa remain animate (but a demon puppet). Wrenchingly, Dean finishes the exorcism.

He makes sure Ben’s armed with a salt-round shotgun and then they head out of the factory. Ben shoots his first demon while Dean shouts at him to “pull it together” and I...just…….

Guys.

I’m just going to box these feelings up and stuff them in my Dean Winchester is a Sad Child attic, while humming Cat’s in the Cradle to myself.

They find Sam and head for a hospital, Dean muttering the whole time that she’s FINE Lisa is JUST FINE she is FINE. Cut to the hospital where Lisa is NOT FINE, but also is not dead! Yet!

Cas flaps in.

Dean refuses his apology. REFUSES IT. But Cas didn’t come to apologize. Okay, he DID, but he primarily came to heal Lisa miraculously. Dean looks up at him like he completely forgot that Cas can heal.

For Healing Cas Science:

In Jensen Ackles your face is a menace news, Dean displays grief, joy, relief, anger, betrayal, sad cat memes, and more in like less than five seconds of screen time. He thanks Cas for healing Lisa. “I wish this changed anything.” Regrets lie thickly between them. Dean asks for one more favor. He wants himself erased from Lisa and Ben’s memories for good.

When Lisa wakes, Ben explains that they were in a car crash. Dean enters, and introduces himself as the guy who hit them. GAH. The shitty things these characters do!!! Excuse me while I hurl knives at the wall for a solid thirty minutes!

“I lost control for a minute,” Dean says, not AT ALL metaphorically about their time together. “And I just want to say that I’m sorry.” He heads out, leaving the Braedens entirely unprotected from future supernatural threats and missing a substantial chunk of their lives. Hope Cas also cleaned up Matt’s body??? And the busted door??? (Side note: does anyone else have weird squid emotions thinking about Cas willfully blanking their memories when his own memories have been tampered with time and time again? I SURE DON’T!)

Dean meets judgmental Sam back at the Impala. Sam, I see your judgment, and I judge thee valid. Dean talks about his emotions in an open and healt----hahaha nope. Dean tells Sam that if he ever mentions the Braedens to him then he’ll break Sam’s nose. He punctuates that with mournful, red-rimmed eyes which definitely deal at least 1.5X damage against Sam’s puppy eyes. They drive off into the sad music.

Elsewhere, Eleanor Visyak leaves her cabin, only to encounter Cas behind her. Cas flaps her away. CAAAAAAAAS!

You QUOTE Miette??!!

Your chocolate's been in my peanut butter for far too long

What’s with the slow burn?

You’re just a man. I’m better off protecting myself

I’m officially on your team. You bastards

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #cas #Lisa Braeden #Ben Braeden #spn 6x21 #let it bleed #supernatural season 6 #bobby singer #balthazar

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elizabethrobertajones · 4 years

Note

Did Bobo really create the Wayward Sisters? If so, why weren't Jack and especially Cas included in that episode? That's my biggest issue with that pilot honestly, I mean, the fact that the show abandoned Claire and Cas' bond after season 10 and gave that storyline to Salmondean. Her bond with Cas is more interesting because of their connection to the Novaks. I also think that Claire and Jack would've made a more engaging dynamic and spin off together, I think they're strong characters & actors

Hi there!

Bobo isn’t the “creator” of Wayward so much as it can even have one, as it was a very organic idea, which even involved a healthy amount of fandom input. The original campaign in season 10 was for Wayward Daughters, and the idea picked up so much steam the altered title for, I guess, a mix of copyright and thematic relevance was the Sisters one. I’d say 10x08 was the real genesis of it as something that could be really solid. Once Kim and Briana were put together the chemistry and star power they could have had together was really meteoric as far as our small SPN world was concerned. Phil Sgriccia directed 9x13 and wrote 10x08 and was more of the parent of Wayward than any specific writer in that sense. Jody and Claire were pretty much common property of the show by that point. Claire was really introduced again in relation to plotlines and questions about Cas and less to do with them really going out of their way to re-launch her. I think they’d have been much cornier about it from the start and while YA protagonist diary writing her way through the end of Wayward Sisters was cute, it’s the sort of cutesy that really has to be earned. If she STARTED that way, like maybe me and 3 friends would be stanning her and everyone else would be revolted :P

(I am a YA fantasy novel author, but I do think everyone should make room in their hearts for this level of cheese)

In any case, Bobo just threw his hat into an already crowded ring with Alex, but obviously loving the characters and having his own personal wayward child to contribute did help elevate him to the prospective showrunner seat, but also all the other writers who’d written these characters except Dabb had left at that point. If Bobo was going to shepherd them through to their new show, he’d be the legacy writer, even though he was a new baby writer in the season Donna was introduced... Attrition aside, he did genuinely write them very well, loved their stories and was great with writing Jody when he could get her, so he would also have been a good choice even if all the others were left still...

But anyway. Season 10′s subplot for Cas was about Claire and learning some stuff about himself along the way, but she was used very much for his personal development and for Dean as well, being a mini Dean herself in a season where he had lost a lot of his sense of self. It’s a total accident of scheduling but Angel Heart (10x20) being the last episode before 10x22 is a nice touch in that regard. And while Cas tried really hard with Claire and awoke his inner Dad side so that he’d be more prepared for fatherhood next time, it was pretty insurmountable between them to have anything more than a bittersweet relationship where the best he could do was make up with her and see her somewhere safe. The fact of him looking like her actual dead father is horrendous the more you think about it and while she managed to see him for who he was instead of a horrible monster, that’s more than enough trauma to inflict on an already traumatised girl for the sake of helping Cas’s manpain and tidying up the sticky question of Jimmy and Cas’s right to the vessel.

Angel Heart very specifically ends with TFW mailing Claire to Jody because they know she’s already good with Alex in a genuine way and can handle these sort of issues and has done it before. And also because she can be a guardian who will not constantly remind Claire that her father is dead but something is walking around wearing a perfect reconstruction of his face. Carver era did a few things here and there with bodily autonomy and the problem of angel and demon vessels, but it was also really hit and miss. They’d get random waves of feeling guilty about it but then by necessity go back to stabbing angels in their still-living vessels an episode later. Claire was a way to address at the very least that whatever Cas was being put through was only a punishment on Cas and not on Jimmy as well, which is probably why we got such sappy Heaven scenes. We NEEDED to be shown he was in Heaven and largely okay with what was going on so that the show could justify using Cas at all as a character without breaking the code of ethics they tried to make their own characters adhere to. Aside from that it also gave Cas a side plot for when he wasn’t needed in the main plot, and any emotional connection to anything that wasn’t Sam and Dean.

Anyway 10x20 caused this huge fandom high which was followed by one of the lowest lows of the fandom immediately after, and both centred on female characters (in fact, now we know, 2 lesbians even! Though I’d wonder if, The Gay Agenda aside, Bobo spite-wrote that specifically because of the roots of Wayward) and I think that galvanised the whole movement of fans and hopefully some self-reflection in the show. They DID start making an effort in season 11, which shows some of the early signs of better inclusion but also backtracking or edging nervously away from the more intense Carver era stuff. Not just because Dean didn’t have the Mark any more but in general it was like someone had opened a window and let in some fresh air... Even before Carver bailed somewhere around the midseason to go do a different show and Dabb started to step up.

All this to say that the Wayward stuff was always about the female characters and making up for the past sins of the show. It’s even a riff on the “wayward son” line which obviously centres around male protagonists and their journey. Claire stumbled into being a part of it in the lucky way of being in the right place and time, but the journey had already started even in the season 10 momentum with earlier work and it was that which suddenly made the prospect that Jody had two young women living with her now seem like a starter for the next generation of the show as it was a mirrored format to season 1 in a way, if you took Alex and Claire as the new Sam and Dean. It was exciting but people flipped out after Angel Heart because stuff had been bubbling since season 9 and earlier in season 10, so this was just pouring more candy into an already visibly full bowl of potential tasty gems. It made a possibility seem real that hadn’t before because we already had Kim bitterly complaining that the CW refused to hear the case for a Jody spin off because she was too old. The next best thing was a Jody spin off where she was the Gandalf to some CW age appropriate characters.

(the CW is and always has been garbage)

Anyway in season 13 Jack was introduced as a Claire 2.0 but as a male character with staying power for that reason, but he was filling the space she left for Cas. He couldn’t be a father to her and neither really wanted that set up anyway. But thematically it had created the possibility of Dadstiel and the space he had in his heart for that. Since the show was in its waning years they would be looking for endgame and handing Cas an easy win with a son he could unconditionally love who would love him back unconditionally absolutely filled that gap. It was a non SamnDean thing that Cas could have for himself outside of whatever happened with them. Not sure the memo came back that he was supposed to have mORE than that but oh well it’s not real if you don’t watch it :))) But yeah Jack was always going to be linked to Cas’s endgame, he wasn’t a free-floating character such as Jody who could go where she wanted and do as she pleased. He was main story relevant from start to finish and tied inexorably to another main character’s fate. Because the show wouldn’t do that with its female characters they could be bundled into spin offs but in practical terms Jack was both never what the Wayward as envisioned by fans or writers was about, nor would he have been free to go.

Since it would have been about centering the stories of people overlooked by the main story, Claire a case in point that she had her life ruined in season 4 and it was a footnote until season ten, and then metaphorically more the concept of having queer and non-white characters in the mix of main characters, it would have represented a future of the story where the main show was unable to tread. Probably because of the CW. Also inherent biases in the writers. Bad cocktail. Jack is both too white and too male to fit the brief to ever leave SPN, and not only that but he is so as a precise mirror to the main white male characters, being passably any one of their sons if you squint, and meant to be instantly instinctively read as such... he was one of the safest bets of representing the show as the network wanted to imagine its target demographic.

So I really don’t think that Jack has any place being in a spin off of the show unless you want more of the same. They tried to give us something different and the CW didn’t like it because it wasn’t more of the same. Ironically a Jack spin off, with or without Claire, would have more chance of being greenlit and more chance of success. But the spin off they put their heart behind was Wayward Sisters as it was. And I think it was absolutely correct that never mind leaving Jack out of it after his work was done in the lead up episode to help set the table, but honestly they could have cut all the middle scenes of Sam and Dean wandering in the woods and gained precious seconds with the girls and still had a functioning story with those guys. It was like some cowardly missive was sent that the show couldn’t actually go more than 10 minutes without showing a flesh and blood Winchester or the whole thing would spontaneously sizzle out of syndication and the money tree would wither on the spot. And in the mean time, we could have been having Banter with the girls. Or Claire and Kaia holding hands some more. The good stuff :P

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hlupdate · 4 years

Link

He spoke to Billboard about Styles’ intensive training process -- and why he wouldn’t be surprised to see him dancing onstage again.

There’s been one pretty overwhelming reaction to this video: “This is the guy who was in the group that insisted they couldn’t dance?!” Did you expect this kind of reaction to Harry dancing?

I’ve been with Harry for 10 years: I was with the One Direction boys from the beginning the whole way through their career before they took the hiatus, and they always made a very conscious decision that they didn’t want choreography as part of their brand -- but they did want a kind of disheveled organization in order to allow the cameras and the lighting to stand a chance in terms of presenting them in the best manner possible.

Where did the initial dance-centric concept come from?

Harry and the directors, Ben and Gabe [Turner], sent me a video link to the Nicholas Brothers scene from Stormy Weather and Harry asked me, "How long do you think it would take to dance like this?" I was like, "OK, are you being serious?" "Yeah, I’m being serious."

How long did the whole process take?

We started in mid-January 2019, and we rehearsed and workshopped for about four to five weeks before the shoot, every day. Both Harry and Phoebe had other things going on, so, for instance, Phoebe was working on the new Bond movie in Canada, so I sent my assistant to Canada to work with her. I stayed in the U.K. with Harry, and then we went to L.A. where Harry shot two more videos, for “Watermelon Sugar” and “Falling.”

#harry styles #articles #tpwk #120121

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enthusiastic-nimrod · 4 years

Note

Hey I'm Fred's fourth daddy anon! I sent that to you, and what felt like five minutes later you came in with that gorgeous sketch. Do you have any art tips or videos that have taught you cause I've been stuck draw trying to draw anything not resembling a lump for two years. Also yeah it was whirlwind episode, f*ck Rose, and Fred should have turned that loon in.

Hey FD Anon, thanks so much! I don’t draw a lot of “horror” art so I’m really happy with it’s progress so far!

While I do agree with you that Rose is The Worst, I think she added in an interesting dynamic and I’d be happy if she became a recurring character in the Scooby mythos at large. As for Fred not turning his dad in... I agree, but I also understand why he didn’t.

The episode went out of it’s way to show off how frightening and weird he is but Fred made it very clear that when he wasn’t wearing the mask he was a good parent, and that all of his crimes were shown as nonviolent. He didn’t seem to steal anything (unless I missed that line?) he just liked messing with people by confusing them.

As for art tips, I... honestly never expected anybody to ask for advice from me? That’s super flattering wow.

Okay, so I’m still pretty much a novice, but lemme give you some of my best tips and tricks:

1) Notice how my last sketch had a grey background? This wasn’t just for that sketch, this is how I use ALL of my digital canvases. I do this because the grey causes less strain to my eyes, and allows me to work longer and more easily. Being so close to a screen, especially a blue or white one, can make it harder to work for long periods of time.

2) If you want to do digital art, you need to learn “traditional art” (pencil and paper) first. It makes transitioning to digital more easy and it’s pretty much what any art teacher would recommend, for good reason.

3) Using one method of art not only limits you, but stops you from learning other techniques which can be incorporated into what you typically prefer. Not only that, but you can also discover a medium you really love that you never would have thought of before!

4) Whenever you get the chance, work in black and white or monochrome. This is a great way to help yourself learn about values and intensity, and just looks cool in general.

5) Piggybacking on that last point, if you’re ever worried about your shading, values, etc becoming muddled either A] take a picture and use a filter to make it black and white, or B] create another, pure white layer on top of the others and change it from “Normal” to “Hue”. Doing this can really help change your approach to coloring (black and white effect may be different for every art program).

6) If you want to get better at realistic faces, I was taught using the grid system. You have squares on your reference picture, squares on your paper, and then match up the body parts to the squares. I personally didn’t like this method, but it’s a really solid style of learning.

7) Start with the torso instead of the head. what you start with the head, the body may end up becoming wonky and having the neck stretched out at an odd angle or having a too small cranium. This is easier to fix in digital art but I suggest just remembering the importance of that rib cage (this is something I’m still training myself out of).

8) Asking for feedback can be an invaluable tool. For example, last year I had this really weird thing where I drew my eyes way too close together- I never noticed until I had it pointed out to me, and it took MONTHS to break this habit.

9) References are very useful, and one fun technique I’ve found great use in is to draw a pose, first with no reference, and then following that reference very strictly. This can be helpful when you want to see where you are developmentally.

10) Every now and then while drawing, you want to put the pencil down, prop up your paper, and walk away so that you can see the full image from a distance. If you’re working digitally, you zoom out a great deal so that the image appears smaller. This is a GREAT tool for seeing which sections of the piece need the most attention and how those smaller details hold up.

11) If you have the opportunity, you REALLY want to participate in an actual art class. Having a teacher that can see what you’re doing in real time and knows where you’re at skill-wise is an INVALUABLE thing to have- these people were specifically taught how to teach you these skills, recognize your problems and how to fix them. Don’t be afraid to talk to them and ask for advice about non-classwork art, either! You can’t receive help if you don’t ask for it.

12) Flip your canvas! I know you’ve probably heard this before, but this is one of the best ways to check for anatomy inconsistencies.

13) When it comes to youtube artists, I don’t really actively follow any, but I do know of some!

Mark Crilley: While I don’t watch his videos much now, I used to follow his videos RELIGIOUSLY. He’s got some really solid advice on how to map out comics and mangas, and he taught me the importance of silent scenes and keeping your work from getting too wordy. He mostly does the soft anime look, but he also does some pretty stellar realism.

mikeymegamega: I’m not going to lie to you, anon- this man likes his cheesecake. This guy is all about the cute anime girls, so if you’re not looking for that, skip him, but I really can’t recommend his videos on hands, feet, and faces enough.

Proko: Has a video about best drawing exorcises and is the guy you turn to when you want to know about figure drawing. He tends to focus on the more realistic anatomy, and while his videos may be long he’s got some good advice. I’d say to check out his studying anatomy correctly video, and then just kinda scroll through his pages.

Ethan Becker: THE KNIFE MAN. The first time I clicked on him I thought he was making a troll video- but then he Got Into It and my dudes, my guys, he has some CRAZY good advice. The way he words things and shows you examples in his videos are amazing and I really can’t recommend him enough. He did a video called “Fixing PROKO's LAZY Drawings“ and while you’d think it would be a bash fest his advice on shading in it is just so incredibly useful. Click on pretty much any of his videos and you’ll be entertained and learning.

I'd also suggest watching speedpaints. Even if it was unintentional, I’ve learned several really solid art hacks from speedpaint and storytime videos- so always be aware that you have an option for that.

…. Oh! And also, practice! I know you’ve probably been given this advice from everyone already, but it’s worth remembering.

Sorry if this got a bit long, I just figured I’d try to give you some good hacks- and even if you have already heard of most of these, I hope I could at the very least entertain!

#ask #response #anon #art advice #art tips #scooby doo #fred jones #professor huh #bcsd

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jeanstoppable · 4 years

Text

17th & 18th OF OCTOBER

hop, step, jump

fuck your pride

(A/N: Fun fact! This oc is based on a dream of mine AND they exist on the same universe as Yelena/Yasemin, my villain oc. Now, buckle up cause it’s time for some Cyberpunk goodness.)

Supposedly, there’s an unspoken rule that whatever background you came from, rich or piss poor or somewhere in between, as long as you end up in the streets, you’ll always be at the bottom of the system. Unless you fight your way up---that is to say, if you survive the climb.

“Hey!” A voice called out from behind.

I stopped walking and peeked over my shoulder, expecting trouble that’s usually present around these parts to have finally found me and lo and behold, a bunch of ‘thugs’ were waiting at the entrance of the alley. Four people differentiating in sizes, three men and one woman, their dark silhouettes painted by the bright neon lights behind them were nothing short of intimidating.

My eyes darted to the walls of the two surrounding buildings, measuring the distance between each window, the extending pipes and the height of both structures. Scalable. There was also that fire exit just ahead, I reminded myself as I mulled over what will happen within the next 10 minutes.

A fight, no doubt.

I glanced at the floating holographic numbers on my wrist, taking into account the time and---the meeting that was about to start soon.

Escaping might be the more reasonable choice but...

I hate taggers.

Blowing out a rough sigh, I turned my attention back to the group who was now leisurely cruising towards me, wearing devilish grins and haughty gazes. Some of them were even cracking their knuckles while exchanging unashamed jabs about having first dibs grated on my ears---and my nerves.

Oh boy. Things are about to get interesting.

My lips curled into a snarl as I repressed the overwhelming urge to be the one to draw first blood. Instead, I focused on scrutinising them individually from top to bottom: their gadgets, clothes, bags, shoes. Anything of importance at all that I can lift and hopefully sell.

It only took a moment to finish the assessment, if you know how to estimate things from face value.

After gathering enough information, I spun to fully face them, smirking provokingly as I loosened the straps of my bag, letting it hang on my fingers and then swinging it.

“Alright, assholes!” I whistled cheerfully before letting the venom bleed into my tone, “Whoever’s got first dibs, you’re up.”

Each of them looked taken aback for a second but then their expressions darkened, my words finally registering as insults, as they should, and then immediately charged forward.

I halted the swinging of my bag.

It was the slightly skinny man that approached me first, I figured he was the leader or something along those lines because he was the one barking the most---however… I narrowed my eyes and observed as the man tossed his shoulder back and aimed a fist at my face. I ducked to avoid it, then I tightened my grip on the straps of my bag and swung it to his side, hitting him square in the ribs----accompanied by a distinct crack and a metal clanking noise.

The man howled in pain as his body smashed into the wall to the left.

One down. Ignoring the groans, I stepped over the crumpled man’s legs and stared down the group with a raised chin.

I huffed and then pointedly tilted my head at the others, “Next?”

The second one didn’t hesitate to attack, taking on the challenge. There was an enraged expression on his face as he reached forward with knees bent and back lowered while his arms went wide to try and trap me in a grapple. Seeing through him, I grabbed my bag with both hands, feeling the solid weight of the robotics inside, and rushed forward to match the man’s attack.

Right before his arms would’ve caught me, I clutched the bag close and whacked it in his face, successfully causing him to lose balance.

Taking advantage of this, I lifted a boot and launched a strike to his thigh, swiftly bringing him to his knees. Without a second to waste, I twisted on my heels to deliver the final kick to the side of his head, waiting for the satisfying thud of his body hitting the ground---

There was a blur of shadow to my right and before I knew it, excruciating pain bloomed in my stomach.

The third came quicker than I anticipated, it was the woman, who didn’t wait for the fight to finish as she sneaked up on me and ruthlessly swung the bat directly to my gut. I hit the ground a second later after the previous guy did, landing on my ass hard. Fucking ouch.

I shot a glare at the woman and within her grasp was the source of my injury, which was a goddamn light-up metal baseball bat.

“Bitch, don’t get ahead of yourself.” The woman hissed.

My blood’s boiling even more now. I bit the inside of my cheek to hold in the groan that was about to escape me as I willed myself to get up, slightly making it look like I’m struggling more than I actually was and then ripped off the mask covering half my face.

Hook, line and sinker.

Puffing proudly, she took a step forward closer and was about to pitch another hit when I hastily seized my arms around her hips and forcefully pushed, knocking the woman off her feet as she fell backwards on the asphalt. I wasted no time to straddle her, trying to wrestle off the bat from the woman’s tight grip, but what the hell, she wasn’t letting go at all.

Letting out a frustrated growl, I took a hold of her collar, pulled it towards me, and then spat the blood that I’ve been purposely pooling in my cheeks in her face.

As expected, she shrieked in shock and disgust, momentarily forgetting about the bat and easing her hold on it---

Now!

Jumping into action, I snatched the bat, wrapping it around my fingers and drove its hilt straight to her forehead, knocking the woman unconscious as she slumped to the ground without any further hassle.

“Fuck...Goodnight to you.” I grumbled out, panting and breathing heavily before I steeled myself to glance at the last person left.

“Okay, one more.” One more and then I’m fucking going home.

It was another man, his frame was slightly wider and larger than the others I’d beaten so far. He stood only a few meters away and I swear he hasn’t moved an inch since the beginning. Enjoying the show? I almost wanted to say but kept it in as I studied him a bit more.

So he’s the boss.

I slowly got to my feet, not taking my eyes off the man as I flaunted the newly acquired weapon to my side, the bat’s cool metal surface feeling quite nicely in my palm.

“Ready when you are,” I said with a raised brow and a cocked hip.

He regarded me for a few seconds, his face hidden in the shadows, before bringing up a hand to his right arm and surprising me by tearing away at the sleeve, the cloth ripping into ribbons to reveal---a bionic limb.

My gaze brightened. Bingo.

While he probably saw me dead, I saw him...as a means of profit.

A smile took over my features, “That might sell a pretty penny,” I coughed out.

The man let out a savage cry as he shot forward, his robotic arm poised to strike and or grab. I counted his heavy footsteps as I prepared the bat and gripped it with both hands, waiting for him to get closer.

Once he got near, I noticed traces of a smile dancing on his lips---Fuck, too late---and then his forearm suddenly popped off its socket. Those metal fingers soared and latched themselves around my bicep, squeezing painfully. I grit my teeth, thinking it would bruise later if he didn’t let up soon.

But the man wasn’t done yet. His eyes glinted dangerously and pulled on the wire connecting the detachable limb to the rest of his bionic arm.

I panicked as I got yanked roughly by my bicep, “Shit…!” Cursing my luck, I tried hitting him with the bat but it lacked enough momentum to actually do damage. So he merely stopped the attack with his other arm and smacked the weapon out of my grasp.

I was being slammed into a wall the next second, a pained gasp slipping out of me whilst black spots swam in my vision, just barely registering the man’s words.

“Where’s that bravado now, huh?” The man sneered, bringing his face real close to mine.

I cringed at the distance, wishing I hadn’t taken off my mask earlier, and clutched him by the nape---then crashed my forehead against his. I knew it would take much more than a headbutt to release me but I only intended to disorientate him.

That small moment of distraction was all I needed to snake my free arm around my back as I grabbed something from the hem of my pants and pulled it out by its handle.

“Right here, fucker.”

I brandished the weapon in front of me and clicked on the switch, the buzz of electricity split the air as the stun baton hummed with power, producing small yet lethal blue sparks.

The man paled. I grinned.

Before he could protect himself, I arched the baton and jammed it into a narrow gap in his bionic arm. The reaction was instantaneous as those metal fingers involuntarily opened and dropped uselessly, the electronics inside malfunctioning. The man himself was in shock, never getting the chance to see the punch heading straight for his nose.

I bitterly smiled whilst hearing a satisfying crack the moment my fist landed.

I shoved against his chest, pushing him back a couple of steps as he held his bleeding nose, “Y-you...you bitch...!”

I stared at him, my expression impassive, and shook my head.

“This’ll fuckin’ hurt,” I say to him before zipping forward, baton ready to strike once more.

. . .

It was the memories that motivated me, helped me get up in bed every single day, the reason for me to keep going and going---because they were the only permanent things I have left in my life.

I tucked away the stolen bionic arm inside my bag along with the rest of what I managed to collect today. My eyes shuttered as I remembered a rather specific memory: my younger self and my father having multiple discussions about our extremely flawed society, still is, and the people who run the streets, making an adamant point about never stooping to their level.

If only I knew back then how people, including us, will react when faced with complete desperation and defeat..

It was a lesson I had to learn quite painfully.

A merciless beating and almost bleeding half to death behind some old abandoned factory.

“Fuck your pride.” They spat and then just left, taking off with my shit. Everything I owned.

That was 3 years ago.

“Fuck my pride, huh...” I bit back darkly, “Might as well fuck everyone else’s too.”

I did one final sweep at the bodies littering in the alley before running towards the fire exit stairs, hauling myself up and up, the wound on my stomach burning by the time I made it to the building’s rooftop and just leaned against a wall to rest a bit.

Bzzt. Bzzt.

Without looking, I swiped a finger across my wrist.

It needed a few seconds for the transmission to go through and then a familiar scolding voice boomed in my ears,

“Where the hell are you? The meeting’s about to begin.”

That damned meeting.

“...Can’t I just skip it?” I rasped, my voice sounding foreign even to me.

There was a pause and I held my breath.

“Get your ass over here,” the voice growled out and I resisted the urge to groan in defeat, “You’re not missing the meeting twice in a row.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m on my way.”

“...Is it okay if I’m a bit late?”

“Get moving.”

(A/N: AHHHH, I’M HAVING FLASHBACKS TO MY UNRELEASED TOKYO GHOUL FIC. Anyways, I kinda lowkey love writing action. I swear it’s because of the Cyberpunk theme in this. I hope ya’ll enjoyed this, I might want to expand more on this character’s lore, there’s tons to unpack, so be ready for that! ALSO IM LATE LIKE REALLY LATE SO YEAH PEACE)

#alkinktober #inktober prompt #myOC #myart #mywriting #cyberpunk oc #this spiraled out of my control i swear

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iwillgiveyoumyhappiness · 5 years

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박우진, Park Woojin

anonymous asked:

Hi Mars can I request something very very angsty with a lottt of sexual tension please? With uhm Woojin? I've been feeling super very stressed lately I just need something to make it go away :( Please and thank you Mars 💕 -1102

Group: AB6IX

Member: Woojin

She lied face-down on her bed. Her eyes were damp, but the tears stubbornly refused to fall. The only thought in her head was, “I wish it would disappear”.

She didn’t know what exactly. Just anything; everything. A mixture of the two, perhaps? She knew that she wouldn’t die. This stress wouldn’t kill her, but it certainly felt like that sometimes.

Most of all, she was just frustrated and disappointed. If she could personify her job, it’d be a gang member curb-stomping her, or a playground bully that was demanding her lunch money. If she could compare her boss to anything, she’d say the devil, but that’d be insulting to poor Satan.

And if she could describe herself... It would be lacking.

There was no set reason for her feeling this way, it was just a conglomeration of small things that had turned into a big problem in her life. One two many things not working out, one two many pounds gained when she was trying to slim down, one two many important things pushed off.

She felt like she hadn’t been complimented in ages, even though she knew that wasn’t true. She would get the average stuff like, “Good work”, “You look nice” and “Did you do something different with your hair? It’s cute”, but absolutely none of it felt genuine.

She missed the strangely specific complements that she would get like, “The way you sneezed just then was really adorable”, “Your arms veins look really defined today; it’s cool” and “The way the sun’s hitting your eyes right now... It’s just really pretty”. Granted, those were all from a specific person.

Maybe that was the main reasons why she was frustrated.

The fact that she hadn’t seen the person who gave her those compliments for almost a year. She’d barely talked to him, even. It was a long time to go dealing with only sporadic text messages, not even knowing if her friend was okay.

She was worried.

Sure, he’d always been one to travel around, but she’d never worried about him like this. He would go all over the world, and sometimes he’d be gone for months on end, but he’d always keep in touch with her.

He’d send her pictures of the most gorgeous sunsets and sunrises, he’d take quick videos of the latest insane thing he tried out, and he’d always come back with souvenirs packed into his dumb old car and a snaggle-toothed grin on his face.

She wiped her eyes, refusing to cry. “Count to 10,” she said to herself, taking a few deep breath. “Count to 10, and it’ll be all right.”

She was broken out of her silent counting by a ring from her phone, continuing on and on.

She reached for the device balancing unsafely on the corner of her bedside table. She’d tossed it there in a fit of ‘I don’t care anymore’, so it could only be expected that it would look somewhat like that.

She stared at the number for a moment. She recognized it immediately.

With hesitant fingers, she answered. “Woojin?” she said. “Woojin, is that you?”

“Hello?” the voice on the other line came. She furrowed her brows. That certainly was not her friend. His voice was deep, throaty, gravelly. This voice was smooth, gentle and somewhat high-pitched. Not an unpleasant tone, but not the one she wanted to hear, either.

The voice repeated her name a couple of times over the sound that was invading through the receiver. Wherever they were, it was loud and rowdy. “That’s you, right?” the man on the other end said.

She shook herself out of her thoughts. “Yes, that’s me,” she said, sitting up. Her old mattress bent and creaked under her shifting weight. “But who are you, and why do you have Woojin’s phone?”

“Oh, yeah! Sorry about that,” the man said. She heard him try to quiet down a few people, but it hardly helped when you could hear the bass of loud music, pounding against the phone speaker. “Don’t touch me there—!” she heard him shout. He gave a small gasp. “Oh, sorry, ma’am! That wasn’t directed towards you.”

She sighed, rubbing her temples. She put her phone on speaker, tossing it haphazardly in front of her. “Can you please just tell me what’s going on?” she almost begged. This whole thing was giving her a headache.

“I work at a bar downtown, and your friend here—Woojin, was it?—is totally plastered,” he explained. “You were his emergency speed-dial—Sir, can you please stop grabbing onto me?—so could you please come pick him up? He keeps grabbing my vest and crying for you to come for him.”

Her eyes widened. “He’s crying?” she asked.

“A lot,” the bartender emphasized. She heard him urge someone (whom she assumed to be Woojin) to sit down and have a drink of water. “Just...” He sighed. “Please come and get him. He’s bumming me out.”

With that, the line clicked out.

She didn’t move for a solid minute, just trying to process the whole thing. On the one hand, she should be ecstatic. Her friend who had dropped off the face of the earth had finally gotten into contact with her. But on the other hand, she was furious. It took him getting drunk out of his mind and a sympathetic bartender for her to even know that he was alive, let alone in town.

She clenched her jaw, quivering with blood boiling in her veins. Her fingers dug into the sheets, bunching them up in wads. She felt her eyes burning with frustration.

Was he even worth going to? Could she really call them friends when he didn’t even care enough to call her himself?

She wouldn’t go.

She wouldn’t.

Yet... She was.

She’d already grabbed her keys and phone, slipped on her coat, and was halfway out the door. That made her even angrier.

The fact that she couldn’t resist going to him.

+++

She walked into the club flashing with bright lights, a resting scowl on her face that made everyone avoid her path. Despite the hooting and hollering of drunk young adults and the music booming over the speakers, she could still pick out a single tone among the sea of unfamiliarity.

She walked to the far back corner, shouldering through the crowd. Part of her didn’t want to apologize, but her better half made her mumble out quick ‘sorry’s whenever she thought she pushed too hard.

A tall young man in a crisply ironed white shirt with a black-vest-red-tie combination, tousled dyed-blonde hair and prominent lower lip came into view. Sitting in front of him was a man that she was all too familiar with, crying into his drink that the bartender was trying to pry from his hands.

“Seriously, sir,” the bartender said, gritting his teeth in frustration. “You’ve had enough!” With a final tug, he finally snatched the glass from his grip, surprisingly not spilling any of its contents in the process.

Woojin lifted his tear-stained face from to table. He looked a little different. His hair was longer, his eyes were softer, his face looked a little bit more mature, but it looked like his travels had tired him out rather than rejuvenating him, the bag under his eyes more prominent than usual.

“No,” he whined, snot smeared on his nose and upper-lip. “You have to give it back... She’s not here yet!” He hid his head in his hands, mumbling some nonsense about how he ‘wouldn’t be brave enough’.

“Woojin!” she called over the music, hoping she was loud enough.

She was, judging by the way his head shot up. “She’s here,” he said, eyes glimmering with excitement. “She’s here, she’s here, she’s here!” He jumped up from his seat, hugging the bartender tightly. He pulled him down to his height (a difference of only a few inches) and pet his hair gently. “You’re such a nice guy, you know that?” he slurred. “Thanks for bringing her to me.”

The bartender chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah, dude...” he said, patting his back with hesitant hands. “I’m not gonna say ‘anytime’, ‘cause honestly, I hope I never see you again.”

She sighed, walking closer to the two. “Woojin,” she repeated, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Let go of the nice man. You’re getting snot all over his shirt.”

Woojin pulled away from the bartender. “Wait...” he slurred. “Who are you?” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Oh my gosh!” he gasped in realization. “My love!” He pulled himself away from the man, stumbling his way into her arms. He nuzzled into her neck. “Have I ever told you that you’re really comfy?”

She sighed, pulling a handkerchief out of her pocket. “Blow,” she said, holding it out to him. She expected him to just take it from her, but instead he leaned into the fabric square, blowing loudly. “Ew...” she mumbled, disgusted. She folded it once before wiping his under-eyes. “Why were you crying, you dumb-bell?” she asked.

His bottom lip quivered. “’Cause you weren’t here,” he said.

She felt her blood boil again. “Well...” she said, taking a deep breath. She wouldn’t lose her cool in the middle of this club. She wouldn’t. “I’m here now,” she finally said. “So don’t cry.” She turned her attention to the bartender. “Thanks for taking care of him, Mister...” she said, trailing off a little at the end.

The blonde shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. He pointed to his name-tag. “It’s Donghyun.” He gave a cute, crescent-eyed smile. “You’re a good girlfriend.”

She snorted. “Girlfriend?”

He raised a brow. “You’re not?” he asked. She shook her head. “I see...” He nodded slowly before shrugging. “Well, maybe you should be,” he suggested. “Not many people would put up with this crap from someone they didn’t really love.”

She took a sidelong glance at Woojin, currently enthralled by the flashing lights and pulling at her sleeve, trying to get her to watch them with him. “That may be true,” she said softly, “but don’t let him hear you say that.”

++++

She shut off the car, but left the radio on. She was enjoying the gentle tune spilling from the speakers. It was a nice change and slow-down from the fast paced dance music of the club. She bopped her head to rhythm.

This was something one could dance to, as well—just slower.

She looked over to Woojin, passed out in the passenger’s seat. A memory sprung to her mind. A memory of staying up until 2AM and eating an entire bucket of cookie-dough ice cream, illuminated by the light of the open refrigerator.

A memory of playing ballads on their phones, humming along and taking each other’s hands and swaying across the vinyl flooring while holding each other close. A memory of whispering to each other and sharing secrets and sending shivers down each other’s spines.

A memory of you telling him that you’d fallen in love with him.

A memory of him rejecting you. Harshly.

The next memory she had was him disappearing for almost a year.

She sighed, rubbing her eyes. She felt like falling asleep right there, but she couldn’t. She leaned over the center console, rubbing his shoulder gently. “Hey,” she said, “we’re here. Wake up.”

Woojin groaned quietly, trying to break free from the clutches of sleep. He cracked an eye open, smacking his dry lips. “Are we here?” he asked quietly, his voice slightly less slurred. He seemed to have sobered up a little.

She nodded. “Yeah,” she said. She unbuckled and pushed her door open with a grunt. The driver’s side had always been a little stiff. “Stay still,” she said. “I’ll come and get you.” She walked around the front of the car to the passenger’s side. She pulled the door open, leaning across to reach his seat-belt buckle.

He grabbed her wrist, stopping her movements. “You stay still,” he said, looking her dead in the eyes. Her skin felt like fire where his fingers touched. Slowly, they trailed higher and higher. He caressed her cheek before brushing a thumb against her lips. “You’re so pretty,” he whispered.

There was a click.

“You’re unbuckled,” she said, pulling away from him. “Get out, try not to trip. If you don’t feel like you can walk, I’ll help you.”

He sighed. “Whatever,” he said.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t cop an attitude with me, got it?” she said. She noticed the way that he stumbled as he stood. She huffed, flinging one of his arms over her shoulder. “Let’s go,” she said, not meeting his eyes.

Without looking at him, she could tell that a bit of guilt flashed over his features. “Thanks,” he said in a small voice. She just nodded, helping him up the front steps.

When they got inside, she set him at a chair in the kitchen before turning back to lock the front door. He grabbed the back of her coat. “Don’t go,” he whined.

She stood still, her entire body shaking. After all the things he’d said to her, now he was begging her not to leave his side. It must’ve been the alcohol zooming through his system. Her nails dug into her palms.

“I’ll only be a second,” she said, prying his hand off.

He groaned, tossing his head back. “Why are you being like this?” he asked gruffly.

She froze. “Why?” she repeated. “Why?” She whipped around. “Well, take a wild guess, Woojin!” He stared up at her with wide eyes. “Does this sound familiar? ‘Are you insane? I could never love you like that’.” She hadn’t noticed the hot tears bubbling over in her eyes. “Ring a bell?”

His eyes grew sad. “Do you think I don’t regret that...?” he wondered aloud. “I do,” he said firmly. “Every second. Why do you think I’ve been gone for almost 12 months?”

“Because you’re a coward, Woojin!” she snapped, making him flinch. “A fucking coward! Even if you didn’t like me that way, why did you have to turn me down like that? It makes you seem like such an asshole!” She turned away from him, slamming her hands on top of the counter. “I wasn’t asking for you to return my affections,” she said, fuming. “I just wanted you to know, ‘cause it was killing me to keep it to myself.”

Suddenly, a toned pair of arms trapped her on either side, caging her against the counter. “Why do you think I ran away?” Woojin’s hot breath came into contact with her ear, unintentionally setting goosebumps off on her skin. She hated how much she was affected by him.

She tried to push him away with her shoulder. “Get off,” she growled.

He just leaned in farther, pushing their bodies impossibly closer. It was worse because she couldn’t see his face. Read his expression. She had to rely on the sounds of his voice; the sensation of his touch.

“I left...” he said, painfully slow, his hands dragging across the counter to rest atop hers. “Because I was having a sensory overload.” Her brows furrowed. As if he could sense it, he continued on. “All of a sudden, I wanted to do this with my best friend.” His head dipped into the curve between her neck and shoulder, sucking purple marks into the canvas of her skin.

A shaky breath left her parted lips. “What are you...?” She couldn’t finish her sentence.

“I wanted to do this,” he said, breathless. He tugged her hair, pulling her head back to give him more access. His lips trailed upward. “And this,” he whispered, nibbling her lobe, his breath heavy and warm against her ear.

His hands traveled down to her waist, snaking around to her front.

She couldn’t breathe. There was too much going on. She could feel every inch of his body against her back. Every rippling muscle, every panted breath, every urge to go farther.

It felt wrong, but very, very right. It was a confusing fuzz of gray area.

“Don’t,” she whimpered, little conviction behind her voice. Anyone could tell that it was a lie.

One by one, he unbuttoned the buttons of her blouse. “I wanted to do this, unbelievably so,” he breathed. After his hands finished exploring her body, never overstepping any boundaries—as if those even existed anymore—he turned her around to face him. His eyes raked over her body, taking in every inch of her, as if she were a work of art.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, taking a deep breath. “But most of all,” he said, slowly buttoning her shirt back up, smoothing the wrinkles out as he went along, “I wanted to do this.” He kissed her forehead when he got to the center button. “And this,” he said, kissing both of her cheeks. “And this.” He kissed the tip of her nose.

Finally, he made it to the top button. “And I really wanted to do this,” he said, cupping her cheeks. He pulled her in for a gentle kiss, so soft and feather-light, it was almost like it wasn’t there at all. They stayed like that for a moment, just taking in each other’s overflowing emotions.

At long last, they were telling each other all of those things they couldn’t before, or even during those 12 months. They just weren’t using words to get their points across.

With him sure that her eyes were closed, he shed a few tears, but he’d gotten rid of the evidence before her eyes opened. He linked his fingers with hers, pulling her hands to his lips so he could kiss her knuckles with his slightly chapped lips. “Do you see why I ran away now?” he asked gently. “It’s because I was overwhelmed.”

He nodded slowly to himself. “In that sense, yes. I am a coward,” he said. “I couldn’t accept how quickly I realized that I fell for you after you said only three words.” His cheeks flushed. “So I guess it was a matter of pride, too.”

There was a moment of silence, them just exchanging eye contact.

She gave him a quick slap, the sound resonating.

“Ouch,” he said, adjusting his jaw. He nodded. “Yeah. I deserved that.”

She crossed her arms. “You did,” she said. A small smile spread across her face. “But you deserve this, too.” She turned his head so that the spot she’d slapped him—already blooming with red—was facing her. She gave it a gentle kiss. “Thank you for being honest with me,” she said. “I’m not forgiving you. I’m just saying we can work on it.”

Hey, 1102! I hope this can help relief some of your stress. Remember to take some you time! You’re more important than your job or bosses. Honestly, I think I got too into writing this. So much so, that I don’t remember writing half of it, and I felt like I was reading it for the first time when I was proofing it. 0.0 Hopefully it’s up to snuff!

Just enjoy yourself and don’t worry so much. ^-^ You’re priceless.

#for anon #for 1102 #1102 anon #kpop drabbles #request #reaction #requested #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #kpop reactions #kpop angst #AB6IX Woojin #ab6ix #ab6ix breathe #park woojin #woojin wanna one #wanna one

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albapuella · 4 years

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How to Lose a Lover in 10 Days or Less: A Comprehensive Guide to Becoming a Future Romantic Failure (Chapter Two)

AO3

Fandom: Homestuck

Summary: How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days AU Dave needs to win a bet; Karkat needs to write an article. Shenanigans ensue.

Tags: Humanstuck, alternate universe - no sburb session, POV switches galore, implied/referenced child abuse Author’s note: This story is the result of a jam session I did with aceAdoxography on the davekat thirst federation discord server. This one's a little out of my usual wheelhouse, but I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. New chapters every Saturday/Sunday. Didn’t bother with the formatting this time: You want the fancy formatting, go to AO3 :D

Day 1:

Despite his slacker appearance (and life-style, to be honest), Dave was always punctual. He'd even made an effort to look the part of a guy going on a date with another guy: jeans with only a few holes at the knees, his favorite record shirt, and a red hoodie—all freshly cleaned. So freshly cleaned that the sweater was still very slightly damp. Well, whatever, it'd be fine. They were having dinner first, and that meant he'd have plenty of time for the thing to dry out before they went to the movies where the main thrust of Dave's doki-doki plan would commence.

Karkat arrived a few minutes later. He wasn't dressed to the nines, but it was at least to the sevens. It occurred to Dave, as he watched him approach, that he hadn't known how tall Karkat was. The answer was slightly shorter than Dave but with a more solid build. Stocky. Or maybe that was just the black sweater he was wearing. Then again, his legs looked pretty solid in the black pants he was wearing, too. Either way, he looked good.

Dave gave him an appreciative whistle which made Karkat's eyes narrow. Not the reaction he'd wanted. “Looking good, Karkat,” he said quickly, hoping to smooth over any feathers he might have inadvertently ruffled. “I'm digging the whole sexy college professor thing you've got going.”

“Uh, thanks,” Karkat said with evident disbelief. “You, uh, you look good, too.” He straightened up. “You said we were doing dinner first.”

“Yep.” Dave held out his arm. “I’m taking you to my favorite place. A lot of people think it’s wack, but I’m buying, so if you really don’t like it, at least it didn’t cost you anything.” When his date didn't immediately take his offered arm, he shook it invitingly. “It's not too far from here.”

Karkat looked from Dave's arm to Dave, suspicious. Then he sighed and laid his hand on Dave's arm, his hold tighter than Dave had expected it to be considering his earlier hesitation. “Okay. Fine. Sounds great. Let's go.”

---

The first thing Karkat noticed when he took Dave's arm was that his sleeve was damp. Then he noticed the feeling of the arm beneath his fingers. Despite looking thin enough to break, there was some muscle here. As they walked to what was apparently Dave’s favorite restaurant, Dave just kept talking. If Karkat had been offered a thousand dollars, he doubted he could have remembered any specific details of the inanity he'd been subjected to. A nervous talker. He'd have to put that down in his notes.

Dinner went much the same. Dave talked at him while Karkat sat there trying to eat his food (overpriced, faux Italian—of all the places Dave could have chosen, he'd picked a fucking Olive Garden? That was going in his notes, too.). In all honesty, Karkat tried not to pay too much attention to what was being said. First, he'd already determined that most of what came out of this man's mouth was completely meaningless nonsense, and second, if he actually listened to any of it, he'd be hard pressed not to respond to the idiocy. While Dave had no evident compunction about swearing, Karkat wanted to get through at least this first date without screaming.

All right, so that was an exaggeration. Some of what Dave said was actually pretty funny. In a hopelessly awkward sort of way. Karkat hated that Dave's clumsy compliments were making him blush. Clearly, the man had brain damage... which also explained the rapping that Dave kept doing (completely unprovoked!). By the time dinner was over, Karkat was only too grateful that their next destination meant that Dave would have to stop talking.

---

Since Dave had picked the restaurant, Karkat had picked the movie. Some romantic comedy chick flick Dave couldn't be bothered to remember the title of. Still, it gave him an opportunity to sit right tight next to Karkat and eat his weight in popped, buttery goodness, so he really couldn't complain.

“What’s the deal with that dude?” Dave whispered. “I thought he was already tight with that other chick. What gives? Is he cheating on her?”

Karkat made a noise like a cat being stepped on but softer. “Dave,” he whispered back, his tone full of the same sing-songy patient impatience that Rose would use when she thought Dave was being particularly dim, “if you were paying attention, you'd already know that that 'dude' is that 'other chick's' cousin. They are probably not romantically involved. I know you're from Texas, but that's not how it works above the Mason Dixon line.” Then he ducked his head and took a long drink from his soda. “Sorry. Just-just watch the movie and be quiet.”

Dave blinked. He'd been starting to think Karkat wasn't going to open up at all. At least, he'd had fuck all to say during dinner. Even if it had been an incest joke at his expense, it still was nice to hear Karkat say something. Something that wasn't just non-committal noises or unenthusiastic agreements. He leaned against Karkat's shoulder to whisper, “It's not true, you know. About Texas. We don't fuck our cousins; I mean, we do, but not first cousins. We're strictly second cousins only. It's a rule. Of course, none of my second cousins are as hot as you, so I'd be willing to make an exception. Just this once.”

This earned him a light elbowing to the gut and a low growl, but Karkat didn't push him off.

By the end of the movie, Dave had gotten five more elbows to the gut, three startled bursts of laughter, two creative insults (quickly joined by muttered apologies), and one “Will you please just let me watch this movie?” Over all, Dave felt like he'd succeeded in charming the hell out of this motherfucker, thank you very much.

They'd walked out into the open air, a nice breeze whisking away the smell of popcorn and sweat from the movie theater. “I had a lot of fun, Karkat. Thanks for coming on this date with me. Do you think we could do this again sometime?”

Karkat blinked at him, a clear look of surprise on his face. “Oh, uh, sure.” He shook his head. “I mean, yes, I'd love to go on another date with you.”

Dave's heart leapt. “Awesome. You can hit me up on Pesterchum. Or I can hit you up. How about I hit you up?”

“Fine, that's... that's fine.” Karkat's smile seemed uneven. “I'll be looking forward to it.”

Although Dave was tempted to try for a kiss, he didn't think he ought to press his luck so far on the first date. Karkat had loosened up some while they'd been in the theater, but out here under the streetlight, he looked nervous again. The last thing Dave wanted to do was chase him away. “Okay then. I guess I'll see you later?”

A slow nod. “Yeah, later.” Karkat was stilted and contained again. Restricted, like a hermit crab stuck in a shell that was too tight. It wouldn't do. It wouldn't do at all. Dave had caught a few glimpses of the real Karkat tonight, and the sight made him hungry to see more.

Dave watched him walk away, admiring the view with a new goal in mind: he was going to get Karkat Vantas out of his shell if it was the last thing he did. Getting to rub him in Rose’s face at her wedding was only going to be a bonus.

---

* Never shuts up. Not even during movies. Especially during movies. Attention span of a gnat. From Texas. Doesn't know how to use a dryer. Finds me attractive. Probable brain damage. Funny. Charming. Obnoxious. Never takes off sunglasses. Olive Garden.

Karkat sighed and set down his pen. He'd tried his best to be as cordial as he knew how to be, and he still hadn't managed to last for the entire four hours without insulting his date. Multiple times. Oh well. At least Dave was apparently brain damaged enough to find rudeness terribly amusing (if the way he'd kept bugging Karkat during the movie had been any indication).

He'd been surprised when Dave had actually asked if they could go on another date. Karkat knew he hadn't made the best impression, and yet Dave wanted to spend more time with him? He looked over his notes, trying to ignore the surge of happiness that filled him at the thought. It didn't mean anything: Dave was clearly an idiot, and after a few more days, Karkat was going to start on the offensive. Whatever meager promise there would have been in this fledgling romance, it was still doomed from the start: like all of Karkat's relationships.

Day 2:

It was all Dave could do to wait until the next day to pester Karkat. He didn't want to come off as too eager, after all. Didn't want to put Karkat off. But Dave was only so strong.

TG: so i was thinking TG: if youre not busy TG: we could go to the park this afternoon TG: watch the grifters and maybe get robbed TG: or you could come to my place and hang TG: is it too soon to do that? TG: asking for a friend TG: this is dave by the way TG: i dont know how many people youre talking to TG: not that its any of my business TG: i wouldnt want you up in my grill asking me who im talking to CG: IT IS SIX O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING ON SUNDAY. TG: yea and youre up anyway CG: BECAUSE YOU WOKE ME UP. WITH YOUR TEXTS. THAT YOU SENT JUST NOW. TG: oh shit sorry CG: IT'S FINE. I NEEDED TO GET UP ANYWAY. CG: YOU WANT TO HANG OUT WITH ME? WHY?

Dave frowned down at his phone. Was Karkat fishing for compliments or was he being serious?

TG: because its fun to hang out with you TG: thats how this works right? TG: i thought we could watch another movie TG: at my place TG: or your place i guess if that works better for you TG: ive got popcorn if that sweetens the deal at all CG: YES. BECAUSE THE WAY TO MY HEART IS MICROWAVED POPCORN. TG: fucking called it CG: … CG: FINE. I'LL MEET YOU AT THE PARK AT 2:30PM. IS THAT ACCEPTABLE? TG: perfect ill meet you by the giant yo CG: YOU MEAN THE OY/YO. TG: tomatoes tomotoes karkat

Dave watched the little “CG is typing” message run for almost a minute, feeling his nervousness grow. What had he said that required a novel length response? He managed to reign in the impulse to apologize preemptively, but it was a struggle.

CG: OKAY. WHATEVER. I'LL MEET YOU THERE.

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Fine, good then. Nothing was wrong.

TG: im looking forward to it TG: its not hard to intuit TG: when we come out to debut TG: sit by the yo then well go round TG: downtown get the lowdown TG: before we get busy in the hissie TG: partake of the fizzie cause we got a duty TG: to watch the fuck out of this movie CG: RIGHT. SEE YOU THEN. BYE.

Dave shrugged. He couldn't expect Karkat to really appreciate his off the cuff rhymes so soon after waking up, he supposed. Maybe they'd land better later. Flat reception or not, the important thing was he'd gotten Karkat to agree to come to his apartment. He looked around, frowning. Maybe he should clean up a little.

---

Jesus Fucking Christ. Karkat tossed his phone on the bedside table with a groan. It had been all that he could do not to curse out Dave like there would never be a tomorrow. Considering the fact that he was currently planning to go to the apartment of a practical stranger, that much might just be true for him. He lay in bed a little longer, out of spite mostly—he could never get back to sleep after being woken up—, before getting out from under the covers. First things first: notes.

* Inconsiderate asshole. Horrible rapper. Calls the OY/YO “the YO”. Doesn't know the right way to express “tomatoes, tomahtos”. Wants to spend time with me. Insane. We have that much in common.

Thanks to Dave's wake-up call, Karkat had plenty of time to eat a hearty breakfast and start his article.

“How to Lose a Lover in 10 Days or Less: A Comprehensive Guide to Becoming a Future Romantic Failure” BY KARKAT VANTAS

Since you have decided to read this article, I will assume that you are looking to learn the art of ruining your relationships without the mess of all that trial and error. Maybe you enjoy breaking hearts. Maybe you are the kind of masochist who enjoys getting their heart broken but is at a loss as to how to properly sabotage your relationship yourself. If you can manage to follow these simple steps, you will be well on your way to the same bitter loneliness that usually only the most unlucky in love get the privilege to experience.

The first step is the victim. For the purposes of this article, I picked one that is particularly obnoxious and brain dead. You may have different qualities you are looking for in a potential short-term partner. Ultimately, the most important thing to consider when you plan to lose a guy (or gal or enby) is that you make certain they are one you do not mind losing. That way you can start the process without any regrets.

The second step is the hook. Laugh at their dumb jokes; accept their stupid compliments; ignore their mangling of the English language (in my case, his horrible rapping); and generally be as agreeable as you can manage. A severe lack of intelligence in your short-term partner can be a boon here, though you will find most people are not immune to flattery. You need to make certain that you have your short-term partner well and truly interested in you before you attempt to lose them. If you try to lose them too soon, you will miss out on the full relationship ruining experience.

A little too informal, maybe, but a fine start. Depending on how well this afternoon went (assuming he wasn't murdered and stuffed in a closet), maybe Karkat would be able to start on step three. He was able to stomp down his nascent guilt with ease. After all, Dave wouldn't have been interested in him after the novelty wore off anyway.

---

The afternoon was a little warmer than the evening had been, but Dave still wore his hoodie. It felt lucky, and it was still clean. More the latter than the former, but the point stood! He sat down on the bench next to the giant yellow YO installation and waited. While it was tempting to shoot a message to Karkat, he decided against it. He’d be seeing him in less than ten minutes, and he didn’t want him to think he was clingy. Which he wasn’t. Totally not. Dave Strider had never clung his whole life. Ask anyone. Except Jade. Don’t ask her.

He noticed his leg was bouncing and put a stop to that noise. He was a cool operator. He had this thing on lock. The date yesterday had gone good, right? Karkat wouldn’t have agreed to see him again if he’d had a terrible time. He pushed back his hood and ran a hand through his hair. Nothing to worry about. He’d have a date for Rose’s wedding and continue sorting out the mystery that was Karkat Vantas.

Dave heard the crunch of gravel and looked over to see Karkat approaching. Another sweater combo, but gray this time. The guy had a style he preferred, clearly. It was fine: he looked great. He stood and closed the distance between them. “Hey, Karkat.”

“Hey,” Karkat returned, frowning. Of course, that seemed to be his default expression. “I brought a movie to watch,” he said gruffly.

Although Dave had been hoping he’d be able to pick the movie this time, he wasn’t too cut up about it. It might be a little early in the relationship to bring out The Room anyway. He wouldn’t know. “Sounds great. My place isn’t too far from here.” He held his arm out. “Shall we?”

Again, Karkat regarded his arm with suspicion. “Why do you do this?”

“Do what?”

Karkat opened his mouth before seeming to think better of whatever he’d planned to say. “Never mind.” He took Dave’s arm. “Let’s get going.”

As they walked to his apartment, Dave tried to keep the conversation flowing, but Karkat’s subdued responses quickly killed his enthusiasm. “I feel like I’m talking too much,” he said finally.

Karkat mumbled something which sounded suspiciously like “You think?” before he shook his head. “No, of course not. I’m just a little too tired to, uh, participate, that’s all.”

Dave winced at the reminder of his first faux pas of the day. “No problem, dude. I got us covered. I got words for days.”

“Months even,” Karkat added before ducking his head. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have--”

Nudging Karkat’s side, Dave laughed. “Nah, man it’s true. I’ve got words for fucking years.”

Karkat smiled slightly. “Decades.”

“Centuries.”

“Eons”

“Until the next motherfucking epoch, I’ve got words, Karkat. So many words. All the words even.”

Karkat snorted, covering his face with his free hand. “Damn it, Dave. Stop making yourself likeable.”

“I think that’s the point of this whole thing,” Dave pointed out reasonably. “Dating, I mean. It’s not like the old days where your dad and my dad decide if you’re worth enough chickens to trade me for, you know. These days I get to decide for myself how many chickens I want to be traded for.” He gave Karkat a mock critical eye. “How about it, Karkat? How many chickens could I get for you?”

“I don’t know,” Karkat said, his mock serious tone almost too close to a serious tone for Dave’s comfort. “Let me look in my pocket.” He made a show of staring down at the pocket containing his free hand before sliding the hand out and flipping Dave the bird. “Is this enough for you?”

Dave laughed. “I’m sorry, Karkat. You must have at least five chickens to ride this ride.” He felt his face flush but pushed onward. “I guess you’ll have to settle for a movie, and maybe some pizza.”

Karkat was grinning, and Dave decided right then and there that he wanted to keep seeing it. “Maybe next time.” As though to intentionally spite him, Karkat frowned again. “Are we almost there?”

“Yeah, man, just a little further.” As they continued their journey to his apartment, Dave felt himself frown. What was Karkat’s deal? He was a lot more fun when he let himself be himself. Dave didn’t like meanness for meanness sake, but he enjoyed a good joke. For some reason, Karkat seemed to think he shouldn’t joke around? Why? His frown deepened. Karkat also apologized a lot. And he was so often deferential even when it was obvious he had OPINIONS he wasn’t sharing. The pieces were adding up to a disturbing picture.

Maybe after he was done hanging out with Karkat today, he should hit up Rose. She’d know what to do.

---

Karkat’s expectations for Dave’s apartment had been fairly low, and he’d been pleasantly surprised. While not as meticulous as his own apartment, there at least weren’t empty food containers on every surface or dirty clothes everywhere. There was an overall shabbiness though: the feeling that the occupant didn’t care overly much about the apartment’s upkeep. The futon in front of the television was ancient and threadbare as were the carpets. The posters hung on the walls were dusty and faded, and there was a sort of mildewy smell. Still, as previously mentioned it was clean (more or less), and there were no obvious signs of a hidden murder dungeon (not that there would be if there were one, naturally).

“Nice place,” he said for politeness’ sake.

Dave beamed like a little boy who’d gotten just what he’d wanted for Christmas. “Thanks. It’s not much, but it keeps the rain off.” He gestured towards the futon. “Make yourself at home. Do you want anything to drink? I’ve got apple juice. And water from the tap, I guess. I could go pick up some beer if you want to go that route, or--”

Karkat held up his hand, hoping to stem the tide of suggestions. “Water’s fine, thank you.”

“You’ve got it,” Dave said before tilting his head and making twin awkward gestures with both hands involving his pointer fingers. “I’ll be back in a flash.”

It wasn’t until after he’d disappeared into, presumably, the kitchen that Karkat realized he’d been making finger guns. What a dork. Not that Karkat was any more suave, but he liked to think he was at least less childish. He tried to supplant the rush of fondness he felt by recalling just how pissed he’d been with this manchild this morning. It was not one hundred percent successful.

Dave returned with two glasses: water for Karkat, and apple juice for himself. “Take a seat,” he insisted as he set the glasses on the coffee table (sans coasters). “It won’t bite.”

Gingerly, Karkat took a seat on the ancient futon. The padding was so thin, he could feel the bars beneath. It was going to take a while to become unbearable, and he hoped this hang out? date? didn’t last long enough for that to happen. Just as he’d been about to reach for the water, suddenly uncertain whether he actually ought to drink anything Dave gave him, Dave flopped down onto the futon beside him like a sack of gangly flour. “Dave!”

“S’up?” Dave asked, grinning.

“Don’t ‘s’up’ me--,” Karkat managed to stop himself from calling Dave an asshole, but only just. “Just don’t ‘s’up’ me. Speak like a normal person.” He realized he was making a mistake as soon as the words were out of his mouth. “Sorry, I--”

“Dude,” Dave said, his grin dropping away, “Karkat, you don’t have to apologise for every kind of mean thing you say. I’m a big boy: I can take it.”

Karkat supposed he shouldn’t be surprised: he’d never been good at pretending to be a good person. If he could have managed that feat for any length of time, he wouldn’t be in this position. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said as dryly as he could.

“I’m serious.” Dave sat up and turned to face Karkat head on, and Karkat saw his own annoyed expression mirrored in the black lenses. “I haven’t known you very long, and maybe I shouldn’t say anything, but--”

“You’re right,” Karkat interrupted, feeling his tenuous hold on his temper slipping. “You shouldn’t say anything.” After taking a moment to make sure he wasn’t going to say anything he didn’t mean to, he spoke again. “Let’s just watch the movie and eat some microwaved popcorn. Does that sound like something we could do? Or would you like to keep pretending you have some deep insights into my character as though we’ve known each other longer than three days?”

Dave raised his hands, and Karkat realized he’d sounded far more aggressive than the situation warranted. At this rate, he wouldn’t even get a chance to lose this asshole! Nice job, Vantas: stellar work. “No, you’re right. I’ll step off.” Dave said softly. He got off of the futon with far more grace than he’d flopped onto it with. “You just put the movie in, and I’ll, uh, I’ll make the popcorn.”

Karkat watched him go before putting his head in his hands. Well, fuck. As though this whole situation hadn’t been awkward before. He should just leave. Just leave, forget about his stupid article, and stop dragging this stupidly likeable idiot down with him. He should.

He stayed where he was.

---

Dave took maybe longer than he absolutely needed to to prepare the popcorn. As much as he liked to consider himself a smooth operator, he could tell when he’d made a mistake, and he wanted to give the guy in the other room a chance to cool down. What made it made it worse was that Karkat had been right to get mad at him: Dave barely knew him. In his place, Dave would probably be pissed, too.

Even so, Dave didn’t think he was wrong about the conclusions he’d come to. It was obvious that Karkat was, for whatever reason, putting on a show for Dave’s sake. Honestly, it was kind of creepy. If he understood why Karkat felt the need to do that, he’d feel better about it.

But it wasn’t his business. Not yet. Maybe you had to reach a certain level on the boyfriend echeladder before that kind of thing was something you talked about. It would probably help if they were actually boyfriends and not just newly dating, too. There seemed to be at least one obvious solution to that problem.

Dave could be patient. After all, he still had eleven days or so to get Karkat to at least like him enough to be his plus one at Rose’s wedding. It wasn’t all he wanted anymore, but it'd be enough to start with. As Rose had so often told him, start with small goals.

He poured an obscene amount of butter over the popcorn in the bowl and headed out to the living room. Karkat was bent over, fiddling with the DVD player, and when he looked up at Dave, his mouth was curved somewhat upwards. “What movie do you have for us?”

Karkat stood. “Coming to America.” He made his way back to the futon and sat down as though worried he might fall through if he sat down too quickly. “It’s more comedy than romantic, so I thought you might enjoy it more.”

That sounded vaguely familiar. “Okay.” Dave joined him on the futon, taking care not to startle him this time. “Let’s get this party started.”

---

Karkat had hoped bringing a comedy would hold Dave’s attention enough to keep him from talking through the whole thing. He’d been mistaken. Yes, a lot of what Dave said was funny, but it just never fucking stopped. Finally, Karkat couldn’t take it anymore.

He grabbed the remote and paused the movie. Then he very deliberately set the remote back down. “I want you to listen to me, Dave. Are you listening?”

Dave looked confused, but he nodded. “Yeah, I’m listening. Do you have something you want to tell me? I’m all ears. Lay it on me.”

God, he couldn’t even listen without rambling! “Would it kill you to shut up?” He saw Dave’s eyebrows peek over the tops of his glasses. A part of him told him to reconsider his current course of action, but naturally, Karkat could never abide by a piece of good advice. “Would it literally cause you to drop dead if you couldn’t expel your idiocy out of your mouth like a goddamned septic pipe full of half-formed metaphors and bullshit? Would your head explode? Can we try that experiment and see what happens?” Karkat felt his fingernails biting into his palms and realized he’d clenched his fists. “What do you say, Dave? Wait, I’ve changed my mind: don’t say anything. Let me bask in the gentle ethereal glow of silence for a moment. Can you do that for me, Dave? Can you let me bask? Will the endless flow of words finally cease?”

‘No’ was clearly the answer to that question since Dave was already opening his mouth. Then, to Karkat’s utter shock, he shut it again. His expression wasn’t ever easy to read with those douche shades he insisted on wearing all the time, but now it was completely closed off. Even the eyebrows had lowered back to their original position.

Silence stretched between them.

Karkat felt sick to his stomach. Shit. Shit. He really just couldn’t do it, could he? Couldn’t pretend even for a few hours that he was a normal person. Well, so much for this experiment. Time to write off this little adventure. Was it worth even trying to apologise? Before he could decide, Dave made the decision for him.

He was clapping. “Damn, just got owned,” he said, a wide grin splitting his face. “You owned me, Karkat. You should feel proud. Not everyone gets own this,” he gestured to himself. “I just hope you know what you’re getting into: I’m barely house trained.”

For an embarrassingly high number of seconds, all Karkat could do was blink. “You’re not mad?”

“Fuck no,” Dave said, still grinning. “I’m a big kid now. I’ve graduated from diapers all the way to pull ups. It takes more than a finely crafted, well-deserved take down to take me down.” The grin softened. “This is what I was trying to say before: I want to date you, not some weird super agreeable version of you. If you want to tell me off for talking too much, fucking go for it. You’ve got a way with insults--it’s a gift. Frankly, I’m insulted you’ve been keeping it to yourself.”

“There’s more where that comes from, asshole,” Karkat said before he could stop himself. To his amazement, Dave still seemed more amused than anything. A strange mixture of anger and fondness welled up inside him. “Stop grinning at me, and watch the fucking movie.” He picked up the remote and hesitated. “You don’t have to be silent,” he said, still feeling a little guilty over his earlier outburst, “just maybe less talking?”

Dave made a big show of running a zipper over his lips. Then he immediately ruined it by saying, “Scouts honor, Karkat. My word is bond. You can cash that shit at the bank.”

Karkat tried to picture Dave as a boy scout and failed. “Right.” He pressed play and the movie resumed. Of course, Dave still talked during the movie, but the sheer volume of words had slowed to a moderate stream rather than the full-bore blasting Karkat had been subjected to earlier. As he sat there on the futon, occasionally answering Dave’s stupid comments with barbs of his own, he felt warm in a way that was only nominally connected to the temperature of the arm he was leaning against. He felt… content.

---

Overall, Operation Hang Out had been a big success. It had been rocky in places, but again, overall, Dave felt like he’d hit his major mission objectives. A movie was watched, pizza was consumed, and Karkat finally, finally, did something other than apologise every time a hint of the person he’d met at the cafe had come through. He didn’t necessarily want to keep pissing Karkat off, but that bitch fit he’d thrown had been epic.

Karkat wasn’t the kind of guy Dave had expected to find himself interested in. At least, he’d never thought he’d have a grumpy asshole kink. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed the more quiet parts of Karkat’s visit, too. It had felt nice to sit on the futon with someone leaning against his shoulder. Dave wasn’t a sap, no, not a suave guy like him, but he couldn’t deny he’d like to do it again some time.

He considered texting Rose as he’d planned to earlier before deciding not to. After all, he’d managed the first crisis all on his own, and she might consider it cheating if he got her help. No, for now at least, this bird was flying solo.

---

* Clean apartment. Finger guns. Puts too much butter on popcorn. Also talks during movies outside theater setting. Likes getting insulted. Kink? Wants to date the “real” me. Delusional. Comfortable arm. Had a nice time. Had acceptable time. Clothes in his shower???

#Homestuck #Humanstuck #fan fic #my fic #wip

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mellz117 · 5 years

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Hi! I’m Mellz and I’m starting up Kingdom Hearts 2 on the PlayStation 2!

Just below are links to the first parts of my previous Kingdom Hearts plays.

[ KH1 ] _ [ Re:CoM Sora ] _ [ KH Re:CoM Riku ]

It’s been a hot minute, like 3,155,763 smoldering hot minutes, which would be 6 years including leap years. Yeah it was 01/27/2014 last I touched this game, exactly 6 years ago to this day (01/27/2020) as of me starting up again. This was an accident.

Guide thingy: Things like long gaps between commentary and days will be separated by a line of dots like that -> ……

Text relating to an image posted will have a blockquote either above and/or below the image

Dialogue exchanges will also be separated by a blockquote

Ok I'm playing on standard difficulty, if I'm having a hard time, then I just suck. If you’re reading this and haven’t experienced KH2 for yourself, why are you here? Go away, there’s spoilers for things that aren’t revealed until later.

SO LET’S JUST JUMP INTO IT

……………………………………………………………………………………………

I always liked this fancy CGI opening. There’s a lot of things I missed last I saw it.

IT’S HIM. Look how cute he is!

So we start off with a recap of Kingdom Hearts via a dream it seems and our protagonist, my precious boy Roxas, wakes up his own home all alone because apparently DiZ didn't create a digital family for him. But KH is notorious for forgetting parents, so maybe they did. I’m not Cinema Sins so I wont ping this game for not giving Roxas fake parents lmao

In the next scene Roxas is more interested in his own hands than he is in his friends' conversation.

blurry ring textures, blurry checker pattern. Not everything holds up well on a flat screen TV

He hasn't been paying attention so he's just as confused as the player is at this point when he finally takes his attention off his hands.

This dialogue is so early 2000's. KH1 and CoM avoided this but with the urban setting of Twilight Town it's DEFINITELY noticeable and outdated. So rumors have spread about Roxas, Hayner, Pence, and Olette that photographs are being stolen, and THEY'RE the theives. Who is the operator of the rumor mill? Seifer and his posse. Also the actual WORD is gone too, they try to say “photo” but it just DOESN’T EXIST. This is where the game gets a bit odd.

TUTORIALS GALORE. I JUST WANT TO PAUSE AND CHANGE THE CAMERA CONTROLS STOP TELLING ME ABOUT MY NEXT OBJECTIVE but no no it’s telling me how to lock on, control my camera, context sensitive buttons, etc

This girl’s dress looks like shes wearing a bra over it

I like how the animal AI hasn't changed at all in this entire series. And by like I mean hate, KH3 doesn't change that. Sven is as boring as this cat we have to look at.

The gang heads to the sandlot where Seifer, Fuujn, Raijin, and Vivi like to hang out I guess? Vivi is a little, solid black, wizard dwarf amongst all these regular humans and no one bats an eye. This shit is normal. Seifer with his stupid Seto Kaiba jacket, shows up to further accuse Roxas and his friends of stealing photos, one specifically of Roxas flat on his face and Seifer standing triumphantly over him (which we’re actually shown later). "That was undeniable proof that we totally owned you lamers" he says in regards to it and challenges Roxas to a rematch.

A+ dialogue

Seifer. My dude, ya dumb-dumb. If you think for one second that I'm gonna let my boy lose to you, you are sorely mistaken.

“If you get on your knees and beg, maybe I’ll let it slide.” Seifer says and Roxas plays it slick, taking a knee and looking through a convenient selection of foam weapons. Battle ensues.

So of course I win because Seifer is a pleb, and Pence takes a commemorative ______ of Roxas's sound victory, but oh no! Something stole the camera right out of Pence's hands! Roxas gives chase, because apparently he's the only one who cares enough to do so, and confronts the actual thief, a Dusk type Nobody. Roxas is taking this creature encounter rather calmly. Like mild confusion at most.

I hate these things, they're creepy. When you do a reversal on them they like, plant their hands on the ground behind them and their legs wrap around their arms while they spaz out. Ughghdhahh

Of course Roxas's foam bat doesnt cause any damage to the Dusk, and suddenly a familiar giant key digitally manifests in his hands. DiZ is installing mods I see. I have a Keyblade mod in Skyrim, so we have something in common.

After we defeat the thief the next scene shows the gang at the usual spot with the recovered photos. Ok ok so was "photo" the only word deleted from the vocabulary or were any other alternative words taken away too? Like, if they could have said "picture" this whole time, they would have had much less stupid sounding dialogue exchanges. Whatever lmao.

“Tell us about the picture thief.”

“Not much to say. The pictures were just lying there.”

You liar. Tell them about how you fought a wormy, white boy.

Pence notices all the pics are of Roxas and speculates the picture thief wanted to take the REAL Roxas and Hayner is like

The best friendships are ones where you can take jabs at each other and know there’s no malice intended.

In the scene thereafter, the kids go their separate ways, the evening(?) sun assaults Roxas's eyes, and whenever he closes them he gets another vision? Idk what time of day it is it always looks the same.

God ok as someone who hadn’t played CoM before playing KH2 for the first time, I must have been SUPER lost regarding who DiZ and Namine were and why Sora is in the pod. More recaps of KH1: I don’t know why they found it necessary to redub over the old voices with the new actors in these flashbacks.

Moving on. Roxas learns what the Keyblade is through his dreams. On his way to meet up with his friends, he tries summoning the Keyblade with a stick, when that doesn’t work he carelessly throws it aside and it hits this cloak clad man behind him. This dude is either completely unfazed by that is or so offended he can’t even say anything and walks away before he goes all Karen on Roxas’s ass.

We’re back at the usual spot and summer vacation is nearing it’s end. Hayner wants to go to the beach before school is back in session! You poor fuckers...

Same, dude. I’m waiting on my tax returns, looking forward to that.

SKATEBOARD

“TO DEFEAT THE HUNSSSSSSS!”

Pretzels at the beach? Salty and not refreshing. I got you fam, I’ll make enough money for a watermelon. Roxas is so poor omg... How much is 150 Munny in American currency?

Just BEAT the cargo with a foam bat. What’s IN the bag? Is it trash? Clothes? Is it potentially breakable? Next. Time to beat some bees!

So Poster Duty was my go-to job in this game in the past because you could get 100 Munny if you did well. But now that I’m older I realized how annoying it is. I had an efficient route planned out, hit as many of the 3 poster placements in that route, and be over and done with that in about 1:10....

But then Roxas goes aND DOES THIS!

FUCKING SKIPS THE ONE DIRECTLY NEXT TO HIM, DEFYING GRAVITY IN FAVOR OF THE POSTS BELOW

HE DOES THIS CONSISTENTLY!! I do have a live reaction to this but it’s too big for tumblr. I’ll have it up on youtube one of these days

Eventually I stopped sticking posters to walls and became a mailman until the game made me stop.

Black-clad man is back with his own stick! Oof, Roxas eats the pavement and is manhandled by cloaky boy. WAS THIS ROUGH TREATMENT REALLY THAT NECESSARY? You might wanna treat Sora's Nobody with a little more respect. AND YOU STOLE HIS HARD-EARNED MONEY! YOU BASTARD!

The gang is on the clock tower, very dangerously high up. Wtf what if someone falls?! Roxas feels so guilty about what happened and Hayner gets over this little fiasco pretty quickly and the next day he already has another fun plan.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

On his way to the station, Roxas crosses paths with Pence and Olette, the latter two freeze and Roxas meets Namine. Is her interest in Roxas linked to her desire to be Sora’s friend? A strange girl tells Roxas she wanted to meet him “at least once” and he doesn’t know what to do lol. Namine doesn’t stay long, leaving Roxas with his confusion. What is going through his head? A girl he doesn’t know seems to know him well enough to want to see him. Pence and Olette unfreeze after Namine is out of the shot. Pence and Olette have such a cute relationship, I’d love for them to be siblings. Pence goes shopping with her even if he might not want to. I can relate, I hate clothes shopping.

These Dusks don’t seem like too much of a threat tbh, they just kinda swagger slowly towards Roxas and grab his hand. Roxas hardly struggles to escape to the sandlot.

Chicken wuss

WE FINALLY GET SOMEWEHERE, we end up on the stained glass pillars in the Station of Serenity (?). Time to grind for like 5 minutes because this giant noodle boy already killed me once.

This thing really unsettles me. All the creature Nobodies do! They’re all twitchy and stretchy. DISGUSTING

DAMN THAT IS A HIGH FALL HOW DO YOU SURVIVE THAT?!

Upon defeat, this big noodle boy falls on top of Roxas and Namine saves him from being enveloped by darkness.

Namine really seems to like to silence him. First she shoves her hand in his face but that was too forward. This time she daintily places a finger over her lips and says her part. Black-cloak guy shows up, rough handles Namine a little bit but not as roughly as he did Roxas. AND SHOVES ROXAS INTO A PORTAL

SEIFER IS AN OPPORTUNISTIC SHITLET POSING IN FRONT OF HIS UNCONSIOUS BODY. Bitch you didn’t earn that. Hayner, Pence, and Olette see Roxas with Seifer’s gang, Hayner feels betrayed thinking Roxas ghosted him in favor of Seifer. He stays pretty salty about it for a good while

IM NOT WORKING ON THIS LIKE I SHOULD. ITS ALMOST A MONTH SINCE STARTING. In my next post we'll be "Struggling" to progress. Eh? Eh? Get it? Like the tournament?

I'm not funny.

Here’s the next part: [ _2_ ]

Below is a compilation of my live reactions and comments throughout this point of the game.

youtube

#mellz plays kh2 #Kingdom Hearts Series #kingdom hearts 2 #kh2 #PlayStation 2 #square enix #disney #mellz post

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