#stupid doodle to get used my regular style again

[highoncatfood]

[historia-vitae-magistras]

alfred straight up murdering his brother on accident just because he walked too quietly into the room is so fucking funny but how terrifying is alfred to regular humans? If he goes to casually throw some ridicously heavy thing he's working on over to the intern or whoever theyre not gonna get back up on their feet to chew him out for it lol. also... getting shot and squished by bisons still hurts like all hell right? does matthew start to get wary around him or is he just too used to it to be all that bothered?

Lmao right? I very much enjoy using these characters, especially fleshy loony-tune-style horror shows because good fucking god, it's funny. But its also very fun? Alfred javelining people into the water must be so fun. Alfred casually picks up Matt when he's on the sofa because he dropped his keys behind it. He will randomly rip up troublesome trees in someone's fields in the middle of the night. This is not a wholly negative, angsty or even humourous trait.

So for humans... not very as an adult. I think. Generally, Alfred puts his people at ease. He's handsome, funny, intelligent and friendly. Man has that kind of crooked smile and easy charm. The charisma, luck and social skills of the gambler and the grifters and drifters of the old Westerns if not the old West. When he was little and had less control because he'd get excited, I could see him getting himself in trouble and accidentally committing some violence. As an adult, I think he's much more careful around humans, and the only time he tends to bust out the super strength is to prevent accidentally killing humans. Picking up a car in front of someone getting aggressive will contain that person's aggression goddamn fast.

As for if things hurt, yes. Superheroes and Gods are boring for me to write about. I like making these fuckers creepy and overpowered sometimes, but I'm most invested in their humanity. So time to do the math. The average bison is about 816 to 1,088 kg, and the most recent record for a deadlift was 487 kg. So on the lower end of that, 816 divided by 487 is about 1.67; redeploy that as a percentage that's about 160% the strength of what's currently possible. I personally think this is why this dork is always snacking, so it has some effect on his metabolism and his physiology. He's not going to starve to death as fast as he should with that metabolism because there's that nation fuckery there, but my boy is peckish. So now that I've laid that nonsense out, I generally make him about 160% more resilient than the strongest human (yeah, my browser history is fucked, what about it?), but not in all ways because biologically, that would fuck up his brain something fierce cerebellum be whack big and I like my nerdy NASA boy. But I try to keep that 160 in mind, so it might sometimes be consistent? Maybe? But yeah, he's durable and walks away from a lot of things that most people wouldn't, but he can be shot, dropped, smashed, hit, etc. And his pain tolerance is limited because, again, that removes too much vulnerability and why are we invested in this nerd? Lord knows it's not patriotism on my end. Strong, but not indestructible.

Now with the biology and the physical aspect of my stupid brain's explanation of this yankee doodle dumbass (affectionate) articulated, onto the emotional and interpersonal consequences. This is a bit meta, but Alfred's perception of himself and his loved ones can reflect this fandom and canon. I don't know if canon makes them twins, but many people do despite some intrinsic differences in history, progress, culture and values. It's a valid take because who wants to lord over other people or think about being the superpower and the empire? And passport privilege, cultural dominance, and political hegemony are things that only come into play when we're online or in some sort of international situation. The world revolves around the US, but Alfred's 'first amongst equals' with the laurels of power is not his default setting. At home, he just wants to be another person. Abroad, he has to function on a different set of rules, and leadership, and that arrogance only comes out at certain points. He wants to be human, he wants to be loved, he wants to be normal. And it hurts his fucking feelings to be reminded he isn't, that it is lonely at the top, that no matter how similar, the Trudeau quote applies.

Matt's used to him, and Alfred's reasonably careful, but the gulf between them, Alfred's ability to just steamroll him if he wanted to (even if Matt would give him a hell of a fight) does leave its marks. Matt tries as hard not to show it as much as Alfred tries not to crush him. He's overjoyed about something and goes in for a hug, and there go a couple of subluxing ribs as he kind of affectionately slaps Alfred's shoulder like "indoor muscles! Indoor muscles, bud!" And its mainly because Alfred doesn't like thinking about being a weirdo, and Matt doesn't want to remind him. They want to be as equal as possible, but physics is a thing.

[ask-eddiekasp]

ooc post://

Hello everyone! Long time no see! A little personal post coming up, so feel free to skip to the end.

As you’ve already noticed, this blog went dark for a whiiiiileee, but I left it up and never claimed for it to be over because I always wanted to come back to it. The fandom has dwindled (I believe) and honestly, I feel like it’s the perfect time to cha cha my way back here. I don’t expect this blog to generate the same enthusiasm and excitement it once did, but I liked doing it. I liked drawing for you all and drawing for this blog. I liked drawing for me.

Besides the millions of things going on in my life that were completely unrelated to this blog, I was letting too much get to me in the fandom. I was getting nasty messages, I was receiving very little positive feedback, and people were questioning my character due to my style. But here’s the thing, I should have been focusing on doing what I love, the positive feedback I was getting, appreciating all of you for being here and being supportive, and really, I know who I am. The negative just overpowered me and my little pea brain snapped and couldn’t handle it.

But I had huge changes that occurred in my life after I started this blog and I was just not capable of managing this blog like I once had while trying to adjust to my new life. Many of you know what happened to my sister (and holy shit you guys were so good to me ilu) and that I had taken a new job, only 4 months after my family’s world was turned upside down, and I was miserable there for 2 years straight. Still miserable there, but less miserable?

Naturally, the blog and the drama that accompanied it, had to be set aside.

My sister is still trying to work on her recovery and things are still unclear about how much she’ll recover, but she’s here amazing us every day by coming further than anyone had anticipated, and work has been getting a little better, despite it being a very very agonizingly slow process. 

I want to get back to doing something I like now that the chaos has sort of settled down. I want to draw stupid chibis and I want to do it even if only 4 people like it or ask questions. I lost so much over the last two years and things changed for the worse in ways I had never imagined, but I’m slowly trying to piece back my life. I don’t want to lose my love of drawing too.

So I’m still here. I’m here to focus on the positives this time. I’m here to hopefully make somebody’s day a little better with my little doodles. I’m here to reclaim my life. I’m here to draw our favorite dumbasses again.

I don’t have a lot of time to offer you. I work Monday-Friday, go to PT 3 days a week, and on my off days, I have my regular therapy sessions (which I had to cut back from to squeeze PT into my schedule). My weekends are my only available time and I cannot promise that I will get to draw every weekend or even post every weekend. But I’m willing to post sporadically if you’re all still willing to join me again! 

I will keep my personal posts to a minimum besides miscellaneous updates or answering any messages. My personal is @ayyyymichele if you’d care to chitty chat there.

Long story short, the ask box is open.

Let’s do this.

Love, 

Michele

[whatevercomestomymind]

Hi, sorry to bother you, but I saw your post about learning calligraphy to better your handwriting? I was wondering if you remember any practice materials or methods you might have used? I have horrible handwriting and am trying to better it, but keep hitting walls on finding any practice materials that aren’t kindergarten level. Again, sorry to bother you on an old post but I thought you might be able to help another in their pursuit for better penmanship.

Not a problem! And I just posted that yesterday, so you're good!

There's an absolute TON of instructional work on calligraphy, and I agree, most start off way too basic, and then just skip through the "practice practice practice" portion, and end up not really teaching the evolution of the letter forms, which is stupidly helpful, especially once you already know the basics of handwriting.

I'll post a list of books I 1000% recommend at the bottom, but there's a few things to know about calligraphy when you start.

Calligraphy and handwriting are seen as 2 different art forms now. They didn't use to be.

There is a HUGE difference between your "daily hand" and "calligraphy."

Learning calligraphy will have a relatively small impact on your daily hand unless you practice a style that is foundationally similar to what you already know.

So, you have 2 goals: learning "fancy" lettering, and improving your handwriting.

If you want to improve your handwriting, you have to go in reverse historical chronological order, so that your hands and eye adapts most naturally, which will give you the fastest results.

So where to start?

First, if you're American, you were probably taught the D'Nealian script (block and cursive) when you learned how to write (https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/D%27Nealian)

This was derived from the Palmer Script (https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palmer_Method)

Which is in turn derived from Spencerian script (https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spencerian_script), and in turn before that, Copperplate (which is more of a font family rather than a specific style, it's most famous offspring being English Roundhand).

If your goal is to improve your daily writing style, practice those hands in that order. DO NOT BE TEMPTED TO START WITH COPPERPLATE, IT WILL MELT YOUR BRAIN. TRUST ME.

I'd start with Palmer tbh. That's probably what your grandparents learned, and have you seen letters from the 1940s? Fuckin beautiful.

The key points are the angle of your paper, the angle of your pen, and your letter spacing. The styles all the way back to Spencerian tend to still allow for you to manipulate the pen with your fingers (like you're used to) rather than your whole wrist or arm (like older scripts like classic italics, copperplate and Gothic styles).

Here's a really old and really fabulous guide to the entire Palmer method: https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=http://lcweb2.loc.gov/service/gdc/scd0001/2006/20060809007pa/20060809007pa.pdf&ved=2ahUKEwjwtLfquYvsAhXydM0KHUpDBCMQFjAbegQIAhAB&usg=AOvVaw3cruMOFNqF4iK6as-toBJN

It's a free PDF. Pay particular attention to the section of scribbles and circles! THESE ARE NOT OPTIONAL IF YOU WANT TO RE-TRAIN YOUR HAND. You have to use muscles in ways they're not used to moving, so get a pad of paper, and in idle down-time (watching TV, riding the bus, on that stupid Zoom meeting that could have been an email), SIT THERE AND SCRIBBLE OVALS LIKE A LUNATIC.

Seriously, this is the single best thing you can do to improve your handwriting. And artwork for that matter. You have to train your hand. You have to start being conscious of how the pen feels, how it scratches the paper depending on how hard you press, how thick lines feel vs thin ones, how a miniscule change in pressure changes the whole line and shape you're doodling.

AUTISM/ADHD NOTE: doing this may make you feel weird, or overstimulated! If it's not something you can keep doing, then DONT. If like me though, you find the repetitive movement and scratchy feel of the pen on paper soothing, you're gonna freaking love this part.

So that covers scripts for the most part (well at least for the past couple of centuries).

ON TO BLOCK LETTERING!

In my research, I found that those annoying bubble letters with the I hearts I despised in middle school actually had a historical precedent: Uncial lettering.

Uncial (and half-uncials) lettering was the signature font of the Kells Monastery, and what we all think of when we thing "celtic/Irish lettering". Famous examples are the way Bilbo Baggins writes in the Hobbit and LOTR films, more pub signs than you can shake a stick at, etc.

Remember what I said about how older scripts require less finger movement and more wrist/whole arm movement? Half-uncial is one of those odd intersectional fonts. Below a 5/8" line height, you'll probably get good results moving mostly your fingers, but as you scale up, you'll get smoother lines by moving larger joints (wrist, keeping fingers in place, and then whole arm for 3"+ line heights).

The foundation of half uncial font is the circle. But it's more of a horizontal oval. Once you can draw a slightly elongated circle, and a straight line, you're ready for half uncials because every other letter is based on the "O". A's? A circle with a stick. D's? 3/4 of a circle with a horizontal ascender.

Now this us where the books I recommend come in.

You're going to want to start with the Celtic Design series by Aidan Meehan. Start with "A Beginner's Manual". It lays out the mathematical and geometric construction behind every major facet of celtic illumination. I particularly like the bit on the geometry of Insular letters at the end.

Then go through "Celtic Alphabets", followed by "Illuminated Lettes" if you're interested in the embellishments and decorated letters, though it does talk about how letter forms are constructed geometrically, which i found super useful.

But the font i use the most on a regular basis is Architects Hand. It's an all caps highly angular and tight, but easy to read and execute hand. Here's an example:

Since its mostly straight lines designed for optimal readability even at the smallest font point sizes, it's a super useful and easy way to write fairly quickly and legibly.

I hope this helps to answer your question and points you in the right direction! Since I moved on to specializing in knotwork and illumination fairly quickly after discovering calligraphy, I have a lot more information about those subjects than handwriting, but if you want more info, by all means, ask away!

[axemetaphor]

wwwhats up its 430am I cant sleep and I dont think I've ever done an annoying headcanon ramble for jdate on here so here we fuckin goooo I'm on mobile but I'm gonna try my damnedest to do a read more and if it doesnt work and looks stupid well sue me

amy is the one routinely awake before the other two. I dont mean shes always the first one to wake up, but her back pain is more likely to have her up in the early hours of the morning. shes also the only one who has anything thay resembles q sleeping schedule of the three as john is just like, completely fucked in that department and Dave's insomnia/depression-sleeping fucks him over sometimes. basically amy Has A Brain and also lost likely schedules it so that she can be falling asleep as her pain pills take effect.

amy also is the one who's like fairly into self care stuff like fuckinuhhh face masks and shit—look, I dont inow jackshit about self care, but I mean amy strikes me as the kind of person to actually maintain her appearance in a fairly regular manner. john will just like "forget" to take care of himself and then just Be Decadent for a week and then "forget" again (either going on a bender or just actually being normal for once) and all dave knows of self care is "when I get the urge to eat an entire pie, and give into that urge, That is self care"

anyways Partially because of that I headcanon Dave gets acne like Pretty Much All The Time and hes just kinda stopped caring about it. amy gets acne Sometimes because it just like Happens. john is that one lucky motherfucker who just is somehow naturally immune. perpetually clear skin on this man. I hate him

also dave Kind Of strikes me as the kind of guy fuckign "3 in 1" shampoo is targeted towards the man just Does Not Care. other girlfriends have tried to get him into actually using different kinds of soaps and not just defaulting to "3 in 1 wherever I think soap should go" but its amy who actually succeeds in breaking this terrible habit hes had.

also I think that Despite his hair being described as frizzy and all that, John actually takes care of his hair. except for times when hes Less Than Functional. and also yknow when the world is fuckin ending but I doubt anyone really has time for a haircare routine when they gotta be fighting monsters and shit

amy again is just a normal person about hair. but shes the only one who can actually cut hair and tbqh I think she does it Pretty Well! shes no professional but shes not john either that's for sure (if you let john close to your head with scissors, well— it's your funeral, man)

this is completely projecting and also like totally Useless but I just think it would be funny if Dave has exploding head syndrome. if you donf know what that is it's a phenomenon-or-something where right when you're dropping off to sleep your brain just liek idk gets bored I guess? and comes up with some phantom Loud Noises to startle the shit out of you. it's great! and by 'great' I mean terribly annoying! but in general I think Dave is a Very restless sleeper so him suddenly flinching himself awake isnt exactly Abnormal.

amy sleeps like a normal human being Mostly, I think she Might be one of those sorts who likes to sleep curled up in the fetal position which is so very valid. she gets night terrors sometimes though because ✨trauma✨. the best way to comfort her with that is a tight hug cause I feel like her Main fear would be that shes all alone again and a hug sure does help people feel less alone I think,

john either starfishes out when he sleeps (also I headcanon he likes to sleep at least Partially on top of Dave and Dave only pretends to hate it) or grabs hold of something and clings to it tightly. hes a very light sleeper, though, and snaps awake at any loud noise or especially if he gets bumped into too strongly. this doesn't always play well with Dave's restlessness and tendency to Sleep Fight but they manage.

I feel like its fairly common to Assume john has tattoos but specifically I feel like a lot of his tattoos are things he or his friends have drawn, I wrote about it Once Or Twice but maybe not here so I'll just like say it again, I think he asks his friends to draw shit on him then goes and gets it tattooed later (or, hell, right then and there lmao) and it's like a Mark of Friendship. he claims Dave has drawn the most on him because Dave's his best friend but whether or not that's true, who knows. the first one was from Dave, though, and john did it himself stick-and-poke style the night of. that happened while they were still in high school and Dave was actually Slightly Embarrassed because what he doodled was just like really stupid looking and fuckin hell john now you're gonna have that on you forever what the hell man? but the rest of John's tattoos, if not done by friends they're either things he drew (I maintain he still draws in his downtime I love the idea of artistically talented john so much-) or weird shit he found online.

I honestly didnt think Dave would really get tattoos because he does state hes afraid of needles BUT as someone Also afraid of needles who paradoxically wants tattoos .. he could probably power through it and get like A Few. one of them is from John (stick-and-poke style, again,) and I am Not actually sure how many hed have but definitely less than John. amy only has that one tattoo that I keep forgetting when I draw her godfuckendammit-

John is the one who makes the most Food Monstrosities (Dave barely even bothers to cook) and he does this by making just the worst decisions both technical-wise (as in, hes Definitely the "just turn the oven temperature up to speedrun cooking" kind of guy) and taste-wise. dave on the other hand is likely to make terrible drinks like jack daniels + mountain dew which my buddy Ben so fantastically dubbed "jack and piss." the sheer Concept of jack daniels + mtn dew tho is thanks to that one kurtis conner video about becoming a country boy which is entirely unrelated but everyone needs to know. ANYWAY.

john and Amy like playing pranks on each other (and dave). they're in an ongoing low-key prank war and Dave is Mostly just spectating but sometiems they Conspire to commit mischief against him. it's annoying sometimes but ultimately more endearing than it is annoying so he never gets Too mad.

john and Amy absolutely have Gaming Nights(tm) that sometimes include dave as well unless they wanna play some like fps game, I'm fairly sure hes said he doesnt really like those. but they also can get Competetive which, dave tends to act as a bit of a buffer to keep them from getting Too into it ... but sometimes he gets a little competitive too. what I'm trying to say is them playing mario kart is absolute chaos and also an event i woudl buy tickets to

john has a youtube channel for sure. he is So obnoxious. he hardly has any audience because let's be honest his videos kind of suck— they're all either kinda boring vlogs or him recording the cases he and Dave go on (when he can convince Dave to let him) which are almost always declared Fake by the commenters. amy is subscribed to him. dave probably doesnt even have/use his own YouTube channel so he was not subscribed until john stole his phone and did it for him. (he never watches the videos) the videos are not edited much, I dont think any of them really knows too much about video editing shit.

dave cant fuckin do math.

John and Dave do Not know how to handle crying. like Dave's learned what helps Amy, in specific, but anybody else? clueless. Dave also just does not cry very often in general (shut up lemme project again LMAO-) and tends to just refrain from doing it even if he wants to/probably should, rarely ever actually breaking down and letting it all out; he'll stop himself from getting there/even crying much in the first place. he doesn't exactly have a Reason for it or at least not one he can recite (it's the bullying. we dont get details of how that was beyond The Locker Room Incident which I wont go into but I'm just going to project the rest of it was similar to shit I went through, It's The Bullying). John also kinda Doesn't Cry and actually hes even more restrained about it than Dave, because he won't even cry around either of them if he can avoid it and if it happens he 1) will Not address it, 2) prefers no one else acknowledge it, and 3) will Run The Fuck Away if it's acknowledged. they both try Really Really Hard to help amy when shes crying though, if shes crying for a Big Reason, cause they both also understand she just cries easily and doesnt always need or want comfort.

that,s all for now BUT if I come up with mroe. there will be a reblog. also these are not all like "I am the only one who's ever tho ig ht this" or w/e a lot of them are from me talking with other people or Absorbing much older posts on here because I read Everuthing I can find.

I sure hope I can sleep soon, this is probably mostly incoherent. gnight

[ootori-sibs]

Kyoya's second shot

Episode nine: Monday madness!

Monday was… well it was certainly a day. It had started with Tamaki telling Kyoya how Haruhi had been distant during their date, Kyoya comforted him with harsh words that had soft undertones- he didn't want to be too soft, especially not in the classroom. He didn't say anything good about Haruhi in his comfort however, only assuring Tamaki that he's obviously not done anything wrong, it would be cruel for Haruhi to be mad at him. He wanted to plant these thoughts in his head, that Haruhi was the one to blame, that Haruhi should never be with him- friendship was fine of course. Kyoya didn't want them to stop being friends, he just wanted Tamaki to be single so he wasn't morally abhorrent when he came onto the king.

The lessons were boring, Kyoya understood most of the material already, so he just doodled in his book, writing down some of his feelings and actions.

10:01 - Haruhi had been distant with Tamaki, this is a good sign.

10:10 - Class is so boring, at least Tamaki is here. He makes everything worth it.

10:17 - Why do his eyes reflect light like that? I never understood how a man can have just beautiful purple eyes, it's incredible. When his head tilts forward to reread the task on the worksheet, I can see each strand of hair reflecting light individually, it makes me feel so much better to know that this is what I'm working towards, he is everything I've ever wanted.

10:25 - We've got a theme today I believe, villains if I'm not mistaken. I don't remember what the costumes look like, only that mine is nothing but a suit and hat, just incredibly business- of course that would be my villainous niche; though I'm really more of a conspiratory villain if you think about it, or perhaps a Disney type. I wonder how Tamaki believes he should act as a villain, that ought to be interesting.

10:40 - There's something about how Tamaki speaks when he's thinking, when there's no emotions behind his words. When he asks me a question, when I know more on the subject then he does, when his voice turns so soft, so gentle. There's something about how he listens to what I explain to him, taking in all the information- each and every word. It's so wonderful to be listened to.

11:09 - When we get married, what last name will we have? It makes sense for it to be his, but I'm sure that would make father furious. Possibly a hyphenated one then, though which name would go first?

When the morning lessons finally finished, Kyoya had filled out an entire page and a half with a mixture of doodles and journal entries, it was beautiful. He walked with Tamaki slowly, listening to the blonde begin to get excited over today's theme. Tamaki's voice was wonderful, sometimes you could pick up his french accent a little more on certain words, and the way he blends the three languages together when he's excited, Kyoya loves it, it's one of his favourite things about Tamaki.

They reached the club room, ready to spend this break setting up for the lunch session. Haruhi and the twins were already there, sat down and talking, Kyoya could guess what they were talking about by the way they all looked at Tamaki as he walked in the room- Kyoya was once again a mere shadow. He slid up beside them, arms crossed, "what were you saying about him?" They seemed startled by that, sharing a glance between each other, Haruhi was the one to answer.

"We weren't talking about him."

Kyoya lifted on hand, placing it on the back of her chair. He smiled softly, adjusting his glasses and leaning forward just a little, "how dare you lie to me," his words sounded soft, but everyone could hear the venom behind them, "I saw you all look at him, and he told me how cold you've been to him of late. What, were you saying?"

Haruhi looked startled, glancing to the twins who looked torn, and not wanting to step in, she sighed, Kyoya could see the understanding in her eyes, "look, Kyoya-senpai, I understand that you just want the best for your best friend, but it's really none of your business what I say. I said nothing negative about him, that's all I will tell you. But please don't be so rude about it."

He felt himself tense up, the room was suddenly a chess board, Haruhi was his opponent. He stared her down, aware that if he pushed too hard then the twins would come to her defence again, but maybe there was a way to get them on his side- she was still the outsider after all. "You might not be aware of this Haruhi, though in sure we've explained it to you time after time, but around these circles, reputation is everything. So forgive me for ensuring you don't down talk about our king, he's our friend first and foremost, you have no power to hold over him."

"She wasn't holding any power over him…" Hikaru spoke, almost to himself, but it was exactly what Kyoya needed.

"Well, don't take my words as gospel, but when I spent Saturday with him," he sighs softly, making sure they all see the worry in his face, "he kept talking about how he's terrified he'd somehow upset you, I had to distract him. I have no idea how you manage to scare him like you, but let me assure you of this, Haruhi; if you hurt him any more then you already clearly are, I will not be forgiving." There was truth in his words, he wouldn't ever forgive her if she purposely hurt him, but he trusted she'd never do that… though he did worry about how distant from him she was. No, the real effect of his words was how the twins reacted, sharing a glance between them, they looked upset when they turned to Haruhi.

"You hurt the boss..?" They spoke in unison, the conflict clear in their voice.

Haruhi started, "no, not like that- I didn't hurt him at all! Not intentionally anyway…" she trailed off, clearly wondering if Kyoya was telling the truth. That was all Kyoya had wanted, heading over to help Tamaki with a satisfied smile.

He helped Tamaki fit the diamonds into the fake skull's eyes, not sure why he hadn't done this beforehand. Tamaki smiled to have the assistance, glancing over to the others just as Honey and Mori arrived, "are you lot not going to help? Come on!" He waved them over, they all stood up, smiling and ready to work. He was like magic, hypnotising each and every one of them. They were all ready to do whatever he asked of them, and he knew it, he was so powerful… and Kyoya loved power.

The rest of the set up session went by without anything notable happening, then the second set of morning lessons went by, just more doodling, no words to speak of. Then came their lunch session, they all packed into the dressing room, getting into their outfits. Kyoya hadn't noticed his waistcoat had a corset before now, it tightened at the front however, so he could tighten it on his own. Unfortunately, he discovered that it hurt if he pulled the string tight enough, so he was the last to finish getting dressed, having just sat there, tightening and loosening the corset.

It was hard to pull it all the way, but if he used some of the furniture as an aid he could get it really tight, he was just loosening it again as the curtains were pushed back slightly. "Kyoya-senpai? Are you almost ready?" Haruhi was peering in, seeing Kyoya sat on the stool, breathless and blissful. It must have looked strange, the usually quite collected shadow king, sat there looking decidedly not put together. "Are you ok..?"

He felt embarrassed suddenly, standing up and adjusting it slightly, "I- yes Haruhi, I'm fine. I'll be out in a second." He couldn't meet her eyes, he didn't want to know what she'd thought of that, he hadn't gotten flushed so he knew she had enough sense to realise it's not what anyone else would have assumed, but he hoped she wouldn't realise his flaw.

"What… what were you doing? Were you struggling to tighten it or..?"

"Haruhi," he spoke bluntly, clearly embarrassed, "I suggest you purge this moment from your thoughts, though I promise it was not what you'd assume." His hands shook, he was so stupid! How could he have become so enraptured in the pain? At school nonetheless! He felt low, and sighed as she closed the curtains separating him from the outside.

12:12 - Corsets are painful and asphyxiating, Haruhi saw me whilst I was hypnotised by the pain. I hope she does not assume anything- everything she could assume is bad for me. I should buy a corset.

He quickly put his outfit on, keeping his corset as tight as humanly possible. He adjusted the suit jacket, and made sure the gloves fit like- well, gloves. He stepped back into the club room, ignoring the look Haruhi gave him as he took his place at the table made up to look like a desk, of course his niche would be business…

He glanced over to where Tamaki was positioned in his little throne, surrounded by black and gold silks and velvet. He had the skull in his hands, and was posing with it, ready for the girls to come in and see him. But what really took Kyoya by surprise was the outfit, it didn't just take him by surprise, he swooned. It was some sort of take of the traditional prince outfit, an old fashioned european style military coat in black and gold, open, revealing the rest of his outfit like they were theatre curtains. He wore a loose, ruffled shirt, only the very lowest buttons done up, you could see the soft skin of his chest and for some reason it felt so much better then when he was shirtless- Kyoya could feel himself turning pink under the makeup. His trousers were black and tight fitting, though they were only a regular cotton, his large black boots took away from the trousers, the gold heels a rather brash display of wealth, one that matched the crown placed atop his head. It looked… interesting.

But the thing that was best about themes, it how much Tamaki got into character; even before the girls arrived there was a cruel glint in his eye, the way his lips twitched up into a grin said nothing but pride and unchecked ego, even the way he moved said he knew exactly what he was doing and how to get his own way. It was exhilarating, and Kyoya would be lying if he said he wasn't bothered by it, of course not in a bad way… just in a way that he probably shouldn't be at this moment in time.

So he opened his laptop, just as the girls came in, hoping to distract himself with finances- but there wasn't even that much for him to do, so he decided to create a whole new email account for the club and save all of the information there. They already had a website so an email wouldn't be too much work, he wished he had access to the website, he'd be so much better at it then the twins. Some girls sat there, strange, he never usually had any guests. He greeted them with a curt nod nonetheless, "ladies," he welcomed them without even looking, continuing to type.

They giggled at that, asking what he was up to, he told them he was doing business, one laughed, suggesting that his business was evil. Kyoya raised an eyebrow, cocking his head towards her with a sly smile, "now why would I tell you that?" He knew the girls went for it when he dropped his tone an octave, and it wasn't that hard- he found it funny that the same tactic that he used to scare was the same that sent those girls into flustered giggles. He hated the attention the girls at this school gave him, he much preferred when the other hosts got that attention instead of him, it made him feel uncomfortable to be looked at like that… he didn't even swing that way. He did consider the fact that he had been looking at Tamaki like that, but Tamaki was his friend, Tamaki was bi, Tamaki enjoyed being looked at- Kyoya only dressed like this because it was mandatory.

He just put up with the girls, being nice, playing the part- he'd never been so glad to be cast as an evil businessman, he could keep doing the finances as he spoke to them. It was worse with the fact that he was struggling to breathe with the corset so tight, but he managed to appear completely fine and okay until the girls all left. The moment the door closed, he slammed his face into the table fairly hard, staying there with a heavy sigh of relief. When he lifted his head he noticed some of the others looking at him in worry, "I…" he wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to say, so he just answered honestly, "can't breathe."

Haruhi just huffed, "you should've asked for help with the corset then, I asked you if you were alright and you said you were fine." The twins laugh a little at that, finding it so funny that Kyoya would have difficulty with corsets.

"Oh were you having trouble Kyoya?" Tamaki looked slightly concerned, stepping forward a little, "need me to help you undo it?" His tone was so soft, so caring, so innocent- but Kyoya suddenly felt incredibly embarrassed by the whole idea, standing up and holding his hands up in front of him.

"Oh there's no need, I wasn't having any trouble, I simply had it too tight."

It was clear that Haruhi at least was suspicious of him, and Honey seems suspicious of something else- of what, Kyoya wasn't sure. Either way, the conversation ended there, and they all went to go and get changed back into their uniforms. Kyoya didn't really want to take his corset off, so he wore it under his shirt, noticing how it pinched at his bare skin now he had nothing to protect against it, he wondered why Tamaki had ordered this specific waistcoat, it wasn't the one they'd looked at, they'd never even spoken about corsets. There was a tiny part of his mind that thought, maybe, just maybe Tamaki did it because he likes corsets, they are commonly feminine… and Tamaki likes feminine…

13:25 - The corset is wonderful, I wonder if Tamaki likes it. I hope so. He's wonderful. I don't like the guests looking at me like that, but if it were Tamaki~ That is my favourite thought.

Kyoya was… embarrassed by the amount of hearts doodled around that entry, though he couldn't help being so smitten. He sat in class and he absolutely couldn't focus on the lesson, he was just staring over at Tamaki, he was so pretty… Kyoya can't help but let out a sigh, though it was laboured due to the corset. He loved the fact that Tamaki had kept the eyeliner and black lipstick on during class, he looked some kind of ethereal, it took Kyoya's breath away more effectively than any corset could. He doodled little sketches of Tamaki's eyes in his book, being surprisingly good at it.

It felt wonderful to doodle like that, freeing his mind for the eyes he loves so much… Tamaki's eyes are purple, they're shiny and beautiful and the same colour as Kyoya's flowers, the flower was everything, Tamaki was the morning dew, the petals… and that made Kyoya the thorns, the protector, the one who drew blood. He would be glad to cause harm, especially to himself, but to anyone really, should Tamaki ask. He knew he'd never ask, but he didn't care, he knew he was smitten enough to do so. He'd do anything for Tamaki, he'd sworn it to himself when he first met the guy, back when he hated him, he swore he'd see to Tamaki's every whim… and he now knew it to be true.

He was in a trance-like state it seemed, as Tamaki had to shake him gently by the shoulder by the time they had to get up to go to the club room, he took Kyoya by the wrist, smiling softly, "come on Kyoya! Let's go and meet up with the others, only one more session to go!" He seemed to understand that Kyoya didn't enjoy entertaining guests, promising that there's only one session left before they can all go home. Kyoya simply nodded, and they headed back up to the club room, walking practically shoulder to shoulder, their hands brushed a couple of times and Kyoya felt a buzzing in his chest, sure they'd held hands before but this was different, he was in love.

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

two years too late, chapter t w o 

When your alarm went off on Friday morning, you were sure that it had all been a dream. Your feet hit the floor and you looked out the frosted window. The snow was still there. Your coat was still in the living room where you’d left it, your tea cup still on the coffee table--an empty reminder of the night before. 

Your commute was longer than usual but not nearly as bad as the way home yesterday. The subway was in better condition and people seemed less miserable, likely because it was Friday, and the city always seemed to have a bit of a buzz at the end of the week. 

So now, as you stood in the office kitchen waiting for the Keurig to spit out your coffee, you recounted the events and sorted them into the good and bad categories that your brain so easily made. 

Good: he didn’t bring it up. He seemed excited enough to see you. He didn’t mention any other embarrassing events. He was nice to Alyssa. He paid for the Pad Thai. He didn’t overstay his welcome in your apartment. He said he’d see you again. 

Bad: there were plenty of awkward moments. He used your stupid nickname multiple times. He didn’t take the hint that you didn’t even want him in your apartment in the first place. He told you he’d read your stories (which likely meant he read your tweets and those were all sorts of a mess). You felt stupid most of the time you were with him. He said he’d see you again. 

You couldn’t really decide which category that last one fit in, so you saved it a spot in both. 

“Did you see that Harry Styles performed a super small concert at Spotify last night?” Your coworker, Carly, slithered up to your cubicle and smiled toothily at you. Her blonde hair was up in a ponytail, her casual Friday look still put yours to shame.

You were used to her excitement about anything Harry did, but this time it was harder to feign interest. You licked at your lips and willed away the heat that tried to rise to your cheeks. “I’ve always been more of a Liam girl myself,” you said nonchalantly, keeping your eyes on your computer as you pulled up The Scoop’s homepage. 

“Oh come on, the hair and the eyes and those tattoos,” she laughed a little, lowering her voice as if this wasn’t typical workplace dialogue. In fact, it was regular workplace dialogue. Carly was obsessed with One Direction (but mostly Harry) and she never kept that a secret. She was the one who wrote most of the articles about the band--her live tweeting of Harry’s album release were some of the The Scoop’s most popular moments.

And besides, your job revolves around talking about this type of shit. You had to be up to date on whatever celebrities were doing and you always needed to have something quick and witty to say about it. 

But you were also used to avoiding conversations about Harry in the workplace. Seeing as he’d released his album right after you started your job meant the first month was like tiny dodging bullets--an article here about his record sales, a list assignment there about the best lyrics. (You passed that one on to Carly though, claiming you hadn’t even listened and couldn’t possibly take joy away from her by writing about something she loved so much). 

Your coworker Max walked by, offering a smile to both of you as he headed for the kitchen. 

The Scoop’s office was modern and sleek, filled with standing desks and conference tables surrounded by balance ball chairs. You had common spaces with brick-red couches and vending machines for when you needed a change of scenery or a snack--all of the makings for a trendy workspace and happy employees.

The gym downstairs was open late into the night and early in the morning--though you’d managed to wander in there once and it was only by accident. You heard rumors that they had deodorant and toothbrushes for the staff to use, but that still didn’t do it for you. 

“How’d you fair in the snow? I saw your tweet last night,” she rested her arms on the wall of your desk, her chin falling to rest on top of them as she waited for your response. 

“Fine--the subway was shit but my roommate made a good dinner,” you said, dropping the details of your late night snack as you sipped at your coffee. “How ‘bout you?”

You turned to her now, offering her your full attention after checking to see yesterday’s story count. She rolled her eyes a bit. “Fine--I would have rather been at his concert, but whatever. You win some, you lose some.”

You smiled, Carly’s sense of humor was one of the main reasons you loved working here. She was friendly and funny and she was always in support of your desire to cover more real news. She’d been working there a whole year longer than you, and she regularly reminded you that eventually, you’d get to a place where you were covering the types of stories you had your eyes on. She also regularly reminded you that you were one of the most popular writers and regularly received the most digital fan-mail out of everyone on staff. 

You’d connected with her quickly after coming on board, and you were thankful for the fact that she was your go-to work buddy. Topic question? Carly could help. Needed to know whether or not it was cool to work in a conference room when you needed a change of scenery? Carly knew. 

She offered to grab lunch with you later on but soon left you alone at your desk, hunting through twitter to find some good topics for the day. Your phone buzzed beside you, signaling a message from Jessie. Your stomach knotted and you picked it up to unlock it. 

You’d messaged both her and Bryn this morning to inform them of the night’s events. While you might normally include Jake and Adam, you decided that the matter was best suited for the separate chat you had with your girlfriends: one that often had secrets and memes and emojis that weren’t necessarily appropriate to share with the boys. At least not these boys.

Y/N L/N (9:04am): Saw Harry last night….

Jessie Alby (9:26am): What?! How’d it go?? Was he in town?

Y/N L/N (9:26am): He texted me last night and asked if I wanted to go see him play somewhere. Brought my roommate. So weird. 

Y/N L/N (9:26am): And before you ask, no, he didn’t bring it up. 

Bryn Miller (9:27am): Hold on. Weird why? 

Y/N L/N (9:27am): Because we’re not really friends anymore! I haven’t seen him since that night and seriously even seeing him then was weird because he barely speaks to us now. 

Bryn Miller (9:28am): I mean, I’d probably have trouble keeping in touch if I were as busy as he is 🤷

Jessie Alby (9:32am): Still shitty of him. But it’s nice that he reached out!

Y/N L/N (9:34am): I didn’t even know he still had my number. I would have deleted it after that night if I were him 🙃 

Bryn Miller (9:35am): It wasn’t that bad, Y/N! If it makes you feel any better, you’re probably not the only person who’s done that to him.

Y/N L/N (9:36am): Not helpful!!!!!!

Jessie Alby (9:37am): So wait. Where did you leave it? Did he say he’d see us all soon?

Bryn Miller gave Jessie Alby’s message a thumbs up. 

Y/N L/N (9:40am): He said he would but he’s said that a thousand times. We’ll see!

Y/N L/N (9:40am): He did say that he’d love to see us all over Christmas 🎄

You set your phone down on your desk, staring at the photo of the three of you that was thumb-tacked to the side of your cubicle wall--a muted office-gray that reminded you of a stormy sky. It was pinned up beside a picture of all six of you: Jake, Bryn, Adam, you, Jessie, Harry at the end. You’d folded it over right between he and Jessie, fearful that coworkers would catch a glimpse and recognize the mop of curly hair. He looks familiar, they’d say. Is that Harry Styles? You know Harry Styles?! 

Before you started at The Scoop, you’d gone through your instagram and rid yourself entirely of any traces of him. Facebook was another matter--most photos of the two of you had been uploaded by others nearly ten years ago--but you’d untagged yourself and set your settings to as private as could be.

You looked back down at the screen of your phone. While the prospect of seeing Harry around the holidays seemed to excite both Bryn and Jessie, you couldn’t decide where you landed on the matter. 

Seeing him wouldn’t be miserable, you guessed, especially if it was with the rest of them. Two years ago there were too many people in Kenny Tilley’s basement, which is probably what led to you drinking more than you should have. A more contained setting with only the five other friends who’d seen your highs and lows felt more comfortable. Even if Harry was there.

So you put it on the back burner for now--not obsessing over whether or not you’d see him again and doing your best to quell the butterflies that erupted in your stomach when you thought about the fact that he’d thought of you and invited you and apparently didn’t hate your guts. It felt all too similar to being fifteen again. 

Later, you were sat at an afternoon meeting with Carly to your left as Whitney, your boss, detailed the new search engine optimization settings. Whitney was 35, single, and probably the coolest person you’d ever met. She oozed the type of confidence that you could only dream of, and being the Editor-In-Chief of The Scoop seemed like a sick gig. 

She wrote whatever she wanted, managed the other writers and editors, and still had time to go to hot yoga three times a week and run a wildly popular bagel-rating instagram account. She had dark brown hair and her lips were always the perfect shade of pink. She wore hoop earrings that were big enough to be bracelets. She was cool. 

On top of that, Whitney was caring and compassionate, never one to shame her employees on their mistakes or necessary areas of improvement. Talking with her about work made you excited and hopeful and made you feel like she believed in you. You knew she did.

Carly was busy doodling a flower on her notebook page when your phone buzzed. Harry’s name on your screen--even in it’s abbreviated form of Harry S--sent a jolt of panic down to the tips of your fingers as you reached for the phone and pulled it into your lap. 

She pulled her eyes up from the blue ink on her paper, a sideways glance before you mouthed sorry, and turned your attention back to Whitney’s speech on tagging. The aluminum shell of your phone felt like it was burning in your lap, especially when it buzzed for a second time. 

You flipped it over slyly, careful to not let Carly see your screen. 

Harry S (2:43pm): Tell your coworker Carly I liked her story this morning on my show last night 

Harry S (2:43pm) 🙂 

You shut it quickly, worried that if she saw her own name she’d only be more intrigued about the message. You turned it over in your lap again, eyes wide as you waited for a lull in the conversation to quietly excuse yourself to the bathroom. 

Your heart was pounding faster than it should, tiny thumps that matched your footsteps on the geometric carpet as you wove through other cubicles to find a private place. 

The truth of the matter was this: you’d been telling yourself one version of this story for the last two years. You embarrassed yourself in front of him, made a complete fool of yourself, really. So the narrative in your head was along the lines of this: he’d never want to speak to you again because you ruined a perfectly good friendship. 

The thought that he didn’t feel that way left beads of nervous sweat on your forehead as you found safety in an empty emergency exit stairwell. 

A door shut a few flights up. Voices echoed off of the concrete before another door opened, closed. You looked at the message again as your thumbs hovered over your phone’s keyboard.

With minimal thought, you created a string of syllables that maybe wasn’t exactly the nicest response you could have come up with. 

Y/N L/N (2:46pm): Definitely not telling her that. She doesn’t know I know you. 

You watched as the blue line danced it’s way across the top of the screen, the word beneath your message immediately turning to read. You waited for the three dots to appear, but instead, you were met with a vibrating phone and an obnoxious picture on your screen of Harry, age 16, standing in your mum’s kitchen with an apron on, fresh off a shift at the bakery.

“I’m at work,” you whispered into the phone after sliding your thumb along the bottom of the screen. 

“Oh, yeah, sorry--I just--you’re keeping me a secret?” You could hear the suggestive tone in his voice, causing you to roll your eyes as you ran a hand through your hair. He spoke again, a chuckle escaping his lips. “That’s hot.”

“Okay, ew, gross. Glad to see you’ve grown up over the last few years,” you spoke sarcastically, causing him to laugh harder now on the other end of the line. 

“Why don’t you want to tell people you know me? You’re that ashamed?”

You weren’t ashamed. You’d been proud and excited at first--your friend was successful and talented and was taking the world by storm. So what happened, people would ask. Why don’t you talk to him now? 

You didn’t have time to get into it with him. “Harry, I’m at work.” 

“Right--are you in the middle of something?”

“Yes, a meeting.”

“You’re in the middle of a meeting right now on the phone with me?”

You could hear the smirk on his lips. “Well, no.”

“So you don’t have five seconds for your longtime friend?”

Your eyes went wide at his label. Friend? Longtime? Neither felt necessarily true in the current moment, but you decided not to push it. 

You looked around the empty stairwell, left without a good excuse. “I mean--I can talk for a second, I guess.”

“What are you up to tonight? I had radio stuff this morning but I’m done now. Probably gonna nap for a bit to be honest,” he thought aloud. You were so content just listening to him talk that you didn’t respond. “D’ya want to do something? S’Friday.”

You made a face at him through the phone when he reminded you what day it was. You knew what day it was. You were a working adult. You had a calendar on your email server and a physical one on your desk. Another pause as you mulled over his proposal. 

“Y/N?” 

“Sorry, um, yeah--I guess so,” you said, knowing deep down that you wanted more than anything to hang out with him. You wanted it to feel normal and goofy and just plain fun--the way it felt before. 

The next question crawled up your throat and out of your mouth before you could really process it. “Can it be low key, though? Like--without paparazzi?”

He laughed to himself, you imagined that he had that shit-eating grin on, wherever he was. The backseat of a Chevy Suburban like last night, a dressing room, a hot tub filled with models. You didn’t know where he was and you decided you weren’t going to ask. “Yeah, Smalls. Got it. No paparazzi. So--midnight then?”

“Midnight?” You asked incredulously, your head pulling back from the phone in confusion.

“It’s New York City. There was no one out to see us last night because of the weather and the time. Pair that with the big coats and we were undercover, pretty much.”

“So we can only hang out at midnight now?” Some sort of sinking feeling in your stomach, you tried to swallow it away.

“If you really don’t want to be seen with me--which apparently is incredibly important to you,” he teased, a blush rising to your cheeks when he kept speaking. “This will have to be our secret.” 

Your heart did a flip. It was just you, Harry’s voice on the phone, and your adrenaline alone in the stairwell. “Okay.”

“Alright,” his voice was quieter now, almost as if he sensed the shift in the air, too. “Get back to work, then.” 

“Okay.”

“I’ll text you, and--yeah, we’ll figure something out.”

“Alright.”

“Bye, Smalls.”

“Bye, H.”

**

Alyssa fell asleep on the couch at 11:29pm just as the third consecutive Friends episode started. You got up quietly, pulled on a sweatshirt, then your coat on top of that. You slipped out the door and down to the foyer of your building where you waited on the front step. 

The snow had melted a bit from the night before, but the air was still cold enough to prompt you to pull your hood up over your ears. It was quiet in the Village for a Friday night, a couple passed by on their home from some type of evening out. Eventually, a taller figure with the same flat hat from the night before strode up to your steps. 

His head was down to block the cold, but when he lifted his eyes and met yours, you raised your brows in greeting. This prompted Harry to chuckle. 

He lifted his arms to motion to the emptiness around him, looking up at you from the sidewalk, gray cement beneath his black boots. “As promised--no paparazzi.”

You fought the smile that tried to creep onto your lips. “A rare sight, m’sure.”

He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets as you climbed down the three steps to meet him at ground level. “Night time is usually the best for exploring, anyway.”

“Exploring?” you pulled a face. “You said yourself last night that you have an apartment. Haven’t you done enough exploring?”

“I can always do more.”

“Where’s your apartment from here, anyway?”

He threw a thumb over his shoulder. “Seven blocks up and one blocks west towards the river.”

Seven blocks up and one block west towards the river. That was practically your backyard. Instead of addressing the fact that he lived so close (and yet still didn’t bother to reach out), you started walking in that direction, he fell into step beside you. 

“How was work?”

“Fine, how was the radio stuff?” You used the term he’d applied earlier, looking up at him as you passed the wash and fold on the corner.

“I asked first,” he looked at you with knitted brows, playfully offended that you’d turned the question around. You seemed to have a habit of doing that. 

“It was fine. Had a meeting in the afternoon that you interrupted me from. Wrote seven different stories today. Most of them were lists. I hate lists.”

“You hate lists?”

You looked both ways before crossing the street. A few cars passed by and Harry seemed to shrink into his jacket--you didn’t know if it was to avoid the cold or avoid being recognized. 

“Hate them,” you nodded. “It’s all I write. Dumb lists about dream vacations or things I’d rather be doing at any given moment. People love them, though.”

He laughed a little bit, eyeing you sideways as you made contact with the sidewalk on the other side. “If people love them then why do you hate them?” 

“Because I want to write real news!” 

“I think you are writing real news,” he said quietly, clearly deep in thought about your statement. You passed by Walker Park and he looked down at you. “That list you did--10 things we know about Ariana Grande’s new music video--that’s real news. Everything she does is news.”

You let out a small laugh, appreciative of his reassurance. He’d always been kind and thoughtful, but his words crawled into your heart as you waited for the walk-sign to flash white above your head. 

“I guess I just want to cover more than just that.” 

He nodded, his lips pushing out told you he was still pondering your words. You felt uncomfortable, so as you entered into the crosswalk, you changed the subject to his day.

He told you about the radio hosts he’d sat with, the questions they asked. His eyes wrinkled at the sides when he talked about the nice things his fans said on twitter. Three more blocks, then a big glass door with a doorman out front. Harry stopped short. 

“This is my building.”

“It’s--” you searched for the word like it was hidden in sand at the beach, your formal education in wordsmithing suddenly out the window when confronted with the smooth lines and modern accents. “Nice.”

“We don’t have to go in,” he shrugged, looking down at you. 

You spoke at the same time as he did, again. 

“We can go in.”

“We can keep walking,” a change of direction for him when he heard your words. “Yeah, no, I can give you a tour.”

You wondered about his walk on the way over. Did he listen to music in headphones like most millennials heading for a friend’s place? Did he count the yellow taxis that passed by, slipping into the night as their shifts came to an end?

He greeted the doorman by name and unbuttoned his coat as you waited for the lift. He told you he bought the apartment in April, claiming he stayed in hotels or at a friend’s place when he was in town before that. 

He swiped a card and pressed a button, and when the elevator opened, you were face to face with the back of a brown leather couch and two rustic end tables. Round-top windows across the room showed the night sky, white-oak floors sat beneath an oriental rug. 

“Wow,” you stepped forward, assuming, since he seemed pretty comfortable, that the lift had actually deposited you straight into his apartment. 

“Yeah, well, can’t take credit for the decorating. My mom and Gemma helped--and Erica, too, actually.”

He took off his coat and set it on the couch, leaning against it as you stood in the center of the room. The lift closed behind you, a hum of a mechanical sound let you know it was slinking down it’s shaft. 

Before long you were settled on the couch with a glass of wine in your hand, Harry in a chair to your left with his ankle resting on his knee. He dressed in black from head to toe--his shirt, his pants, his shoes. 

“So the rats are the worst part,” he laughed, his fingers running through his hair as he looked up at the ceiling. “Makes sense.”

“I didn’t really buy it at first--you hear people say they’re terrible but until you see one pulling a piece of pizza up a staircase in the subway station, you just don’t understand.”

“May or may not take over the city, kind of thing.” 

You let out a belly laugh, throwing your head back as he smiled over at you, swirling his wine in his glass. “Exactly. But I guess the best part is just,” you exhaled a big breath, wondering how to sum up your love for dirty, tough, soul sucking New York City. “My friends here, and Alyssa, and my job.”

He tilted his head to the side, eyes scanning over you for a second. When he spoke, his voice was quiet--curious--and almost like he didn’t want to know the answer. “Do you ever miss home?”

“Holmes Chapel?” You said it as if you weren’t quite sure where home was. You thought of the fields, the small downtown and the roads that led you out of that universe. “Not really.”

He nodded, tugging at his lower lip. 

“I mean, I miss the people, of course. My parents, my sister. My house. Not the town, really.”

He hummed a noise of understanding, a sip from his wine as he stared at the eggshell white ceiling. “I do.”

He didn’t bring his eyes back down to you. Instead he avoided your gaze, giving you permission to study his features as if you hadn’t studied them your whole life. As if even now, when you saw him on a magazine cover, you didn’t pause for a second to evaluate the eyes looking back at you or the one piece of his hair that always seemed to fall onto his forehead. 

When he let his eyes trail back to you, your lips curled upwards. “We left on different terms, I guess.”

His eyebrows rose and fell, a look of amusement crossing his face. 

“While you were signing record deals I was finishing a-levels.”

It wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed your mind. There were other moments like this when the differences between your life and Harry’s felt incredibly staggering. Like when you found out he was dating Taylor Swift. Or when you learned he’d met Paul McCartney. 

There were always small reminders that the two of you existed in separate worlds, even if those worlds hadn’t collided in a long time. 

“I meant what I said last night, y’know.” He watched you closely, his eyes an emerald green in the dark lighting of his posh living room. “About being a shit friend.”

You didn’t know what to say. He was a shit friend at times. But so were you. At least, you had been that night. You remembered the time he helped you roll your bicycle back to your house after you got a flat tire at Jessie’s. Year 7. 

You remembered the time he warned you that Peter Moore was going to ask you to the school dance and pretended to be your date so you didn’t have to go with him. 

But then you also remembered when he missed Adams birthday party because he got drunk the night before with Ed Sheeran and couldn’t bother to call. You also remembered when he didn’t text Jake after his grandma died because he was in Tokyo. 

You understood that fame happened. You didn’t ever expect him to pass up his chance--especially seeing as you’d always known how talented he was. But sitting here, with your feet on his couch and a snow-covered New York outside, you just wished he’d kept in touch. 

“I get it,” was all you said. 

He kept his eyes trained on you, and you wondered what it would be like if he’d never left. Maybe he would have moved to London like the rest of you did. Or maybe his fate had long been determined. All you knew, as you watched him tilt his wine glass back to finish the last sip, was that you wished life was like a snowglobe. One that you could shake, and drop, and flip upside down to watch the snow and glitter dance, the scene inside completely still, never to change. 

** 

You felt uncomfortable in the Chevy Suburban by yourself that night, the heat on high because you made small talk with the driver about how cold the night air was. A text from Harry saying he enjoyed your night together was the last thing you saw before closing your eyes in bed. 

You reasoned with yourself at the kitchen table the next morning over a bowl of oatmeal. Maybe being his friend wasn’t terrible--you’d done it before and maybe it would be just like that. Maybe you could keep your teenage feelings in check. 

You’d barely gotten a bite of breakfast down before your phone buzzed beside you, a FaceTime call from Jessie coming through. 

“Good morning,” you laughed after swiping your thumb across the screen to answer the call. 

Jessie--her auburn hair up in a bun and the freckles on her cheeks more present than ever--had her face smushed up against Bryn’s. 

“Hi Brynie,” you waved your spoon at them, knowing full well what they were calling about. 

After a second glass of wine, Harry had decided to send a snapchat of the two of you--your cheeks smushed together just like your friends�� were, now--to the rest of the group. 

“Good morning my arse--you’re lucky we waited until a decent hour to call you and demand some fucking answers, woman,” Jessie’s accent was thick, her energy palpable through the phone as Bryn let out a laugh. 

“What she means is, how was your night?”

You rolled your eyes. “It was fine--I don’t know why he suddenly wants to hang out with me.”

“And he seriously still hasn’t brought it up?” Jessie’s eyebrows pointed together like an arrow. 

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p,’ adjusting in your seat as you took another bite of your breakfast. Mushy oatmeal wasn’t necessarily your first choice, but you hadn’t been shopping since the beginning of the week. You and Alyssa had planned on heading to the grocer down the block, but that was only if she ever woke up. 

“I mean, I also have avoided the conversation like the plague, to be fair. M’not about to just say, ‘hey, remember that night when I was really drunk and acted like a fucking idiot?’”

“I don’t think he thinks it was that bad,” Bryn tried to reassure you. 

“Right!” You let out a quick laugh, careful to not be too loud in your quiet apartment. The morning was still somewhat untouched. Unopened mail on the coffee table, the candle Alyssa had bought a few weeks ago still uncapped beside it. 

The blanket your roommate had fallen asleep with the night before was still balled up on the couch. You wondered what time she made the semi-unconscious trek from this room to her bed. You didn’t know because you were busy drinking wine with Harry and pretending that all of this wasn’t weird. 

“Listen,” you told them. “I don’t know why he wants to hang out with me or where his head is at about that night, but--I don’t know--I’m just trying to be normal.”

Jessie raised her eyebrows, a small smile coming across her face. You could read her mind. After being friends with her for more than half of your life, you knew exactly what she was thinking when she opened her mouth, looked at you, looked away, and then closed it.

“Just say it, Jessie,” you rolled your eyes, another spoonful of oatmeal into your mouth, waiting for her lecture to ensue.

“I dunno, Y/N, I just think that you and Harry--” she looked over to Bryn, who immediately continued on for her. 

“You might always have a schoolgirl crush on him, and we just, we don’t want you to get hurt again.”

You licked at your lips, your eyes falling to the wood of your kitchen table. Knots of dark maple stared back at you, providing no insight or guidance on how to respond to the sudden shift in the conversation.

“I know,” you said quietly. 

You hadn’t meant to get hurt the first time. It wasn’t your fault that the week you finally had the guts to tell him how you felt was the same week he left for bootcamp. You thought he’d be home in a few weeks--those shows didn’t really make people famous, right? Certainly not your friend with an obnoxiously loud laugh and a penchant for using embarrassing nicknames. 

So maybe you sulked around for a while after he left, especially when it became clear he wasn’t coming back. 

The first call was to tell you he’d been rejected, but, wait for it, there was good news. A group was formed. You and Adam joked about how long it would take for one of Harry’s new bandmates to punch him when they realized how annoying he could be. 

A call a few weeks in had him excitedly telling you that he was going to Spain. Then he was moving into the house, then they made it further and further each week. The calls slowed down and soon the majority of your interaction with him happened through a telly screen. 

You’d sit around in Bryn’s living room, smacking Jake on the head with a pillow whenever he talked too loud, arguing that you all needed to pay close attention, voting as much as your mobiles would allow. While Jessie and Bryn were totally in the know about your growing crush for one of your best mates, Jake and Adam remained relatively in the dark. 

He was home that first Christmas, telling exciting stories of the celebrities he’d met and the places he’d been, casually letting it slip that he’d lost his virginity and was likely moving to London--the band was going to try to go even further. 

You’d kind of given up at that point, recognizing that your lives were two threads being pulled in opposite directions. While you’d once been part of the same cloth, you were building your own tapestries now. 

So you let it go. Bryn and Jessie offered their love and support and everyone kept going with their own academic endeavors. You’d see him at holidays or maybe once in the summer when the band came through town, laughing in empty venue hallways and being ushered to the best seats in the house. You’d have a glass of wine or a pint when you knew you’d be seeing him, quelling the nervous knot in your stomach that often lodged in your throat. 

“He still calls me Smalls,” you said, pulling your eyes up to see them again as a smirk tugged at your lips. “Such a stupid nickname.”

“S’not stupid,” Bryn objected, her face twisting into one of irritation. “S’cute--and Adam and Jake still call you that sometimes too.”

“S’different coming from Harry,” Jessie answered for you, a silence passed and you let your spoon clank against your bowl as you set it down. 

“He knows he’s been a shit friend, by the way. Both nights he’s admitted it to me, so, I think he feels guilty, I guess.”

“I mean, I get it, y’know. I get that he’s been way too busy and running in a thousand directions.” Bryn shrugged her shoulders and let a sigh escape between her lips. 

“But it’d be nice if he could at least see us when he’s home, respond in the group, text us on our birthdays,” you finished for her, knowing by heart the places in your life where he was missing. 

**

You’d done your grocery shopping, cleaned the bathroom, and you were now seated on the couch in a pair of sweatpants. Slivers of nail polish fell down like the snowflakes from two days before as your thumb scratched wildly against your pointer finger. 

Alyssa was seated on the floor in front of you, rifling through a bin of DVDs--artifacts of her teen years. “Mean Girls, Sleepover--that one’s a throwback,” her messy bun pulled wisps of her loose brown hair away from her face. 

A knock on the door had her leaping to her feet, a look on curiosity crossing her face as she danced on bare feet towards the door. She pressed her eye to the peephole, her face a ghostly white as she turned around and pushed her back to the door, barricading it shut. “Harry Styles is at our door.”

“What? Why?” You stood from the couch, crossing your arms over your chest as you closed the distance between the two of you. 

“Oh, he called and said he was going to stop by for tea,” she whispered at you, sarcasm dripping from her words as she stepped aside so you could take a look for yourself. “If celebrities are going to start showing up at our door we need warnings, Y/N!”

“I didn’t know he was coming--he didn’t say anything!” You pulled the door open before she could respond, revealing Harry, hands in his pockets, leaning back on his heels. An awkward smile on his face as he spoke.

“I’ll try and give a better warning, next time,” he made eye contact with Alyssa, playfully letting you both know that he heard every word you’d said. 

But that was nothing compared to the level of embarrassment you were used to when it came to Harry and things that came out of your mouth. So, you looked him up and down, noticing that he was dressed more formally than the night before. Same black pants, but this time a black button down shirt, undone just enough at the top to show flecks of black ink on his chest. 

You reached forward and tugged at the fabric, pulling him into the apartment and closing the door behind him swiftly. “Did you walk in the front door? Did anyone see you?”

He smoothed out his shirt with a frown when you let go of him, Alyssa staring wide eyed at the two of you when he responded. “Someone was walking out and held the door, didn’t even look up, though, s’New York, for you.”

You padded over to the window on the opposite side of the room, looking down at the street below. The last thing you needed was a photo linking you and Harry together. Young journalist uses childhood friend for career success, they’d say. 

“No paparazzi,” Harry answered for you as he hung his coat on the back of your front door. 

He was right--there was no sign of lenses or flashing lights on the curb below, just white cigarette butts and hardened sidewalk gum. You turned to face him, still completely uncertain why he was standing in your living room at 5:30pm on a Saturday.

You didn’t have to say that, though, because he soon offered an answer. “I uh--I was gonna go to a concert tonight, was just wondering if you wanted to come. You, too, Alyssa,” he turned to your roommate, who’s eyes were wide despite the smile on her face. 

You cleared your throat, hoping to make Alyssa snap back into her regularly functioning self. Harry brought his eyes to you. “Sara Bareilles--do you know her?”

“Do we know her!” Alyssa laughed, her excitement only growing as you made your way to the couch. “I cried so hard to Love Song in the shower when I was twelve.”

Harry chuckled at this, letting his eyes settle on you. Alyssa did the same--clearly hoping that you’d acquiesce.  

You stuttered over your words, uncomfortable with the power they were both affording you. “What--I don’t--we’re just supposed to tag along to her concert? Do you have three tickets?”

“She invited me,” he shrugged. “Said I could bring friends.”

“Bring friends?” You repeated his words, letting that sink in. Right, okay. This is how it was to be a celebrity. Free things, show up places and get VIP treatment. “How do you know her?”

“Her manager is friends with Erica. Saw her at a party about a week ago.”

“Y/N, we have to go. It’s Sara Bareilles. She’s like, on Broadway and is amazing.” 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go. If anything, a Sara Bareilles concert with Alyssa was something you would have jumped at a few days prior. Adding Harry to the mix--and using him as the ticket in--felt weird.

“You really think it’d be okay with we come?” Alyssa turned to Harry, shoving her hands into the front pocket of her maroon sweatshirt. 

He nodded, his eyes flickering back to you. “S’fine, if you’re busy.”

“We’re not busy,” you said, letting a sigh brush past your lips. “I just feel bad, I don’t want to use you for tickets.”

“I’m inviting you,” he laughed, walking to sit beside you on the couch. “And I’ll make you a deal, Smalls. You can totally buy me a drink when we’re there.”

You rolled your eyes, simultaneously bothered and enchanted by the way he winked at you. 

**

You’d been to Irving Plaza before. You’d seen two shows: one with Alyssa and one on a bad Tinder date. The bar that they had inside was decent (thank god, especially for that date) and the bathroom stalls were covered in drunken sharpie doodles. It was right next to Union Square, making it accessible and easy to find. 

Tonight, however, instead of shuffling through subway gates and dark tunnels, you’d been dropped off by the same man in the same black Chevy Suburban and you learned his name was Roger. 

Erica met the three of you in the back--an alleyway entrance that seemed much less glamorous than you’d imagined fame to be. She gave you a hug this time, seemingly excited to have two civilians along for the night. You wondered what her life was like: did she have to schedule Harry’s dates with models and influencers? Did she have to memorize their phone numbers or worse, their astrological signs or favorite colors? She must have had tons of awkward encounters with beautiful and boring girls--ones who were latching on to Harry for the money or the fame, or, apparently, the free invites to concerts. 

Harry’s manager, Jeff, made an appearance backstage when you and Alyssa were busy photographing the signed posters of previous acts that hung on the white cement wall. Snapchatting them to Bryn and Jessie seemed like an obnoxious, yet totally acceptable thing to do. You couldn’t explain why Harry was suddenly interested in being friends again, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy it. 

The most exciting moment pre-concert was when Alyssa subtly grabbed your hand, nearly cutting off circulation as Sara greeted both Erica and Harry with a kiss on the cheek. She introduced herself to Jeff and then to you and Alyssa before offering to take a picture, one that Harry insisted on being in. She left the group behind to finish preparing for her show, thanking you all for coming and promising to play Harry’s favorite song. 

And you learned something else: famous people wait for the lights go down in a venue before heading to their post. They slink in between bodies and find a secluded corner to spend their night, sending others to the bar so they don’t have to risk being seen. 

Which was fine, you owed Harry a drink anyway. So you got five Moscow Mules and headed back to the group before doling them out. One for Harry, one for Alyssa, one for Erica, one for Jeff, and one for you. 

You measured the night in songs, wondering how many you’d sing along to before having to part ways with the boy with a big smile and an even bigger heart. Alyssa, with her drink up to her lips, wiggled her eyebrows at you as if she knew exactly what you were thinking. 

You figured she probably did. 

So when Harry slinked an arm around your shoulder, drunkenly swaying to the music, you let yourself relax. He wouldn’t--no, couldn’t--do this if he really hated you, right? December 29th was a night that you both likely wished to forget, but if he really felt like you’d ruined your friendship, he certainly wouldn’t invite you to a concert, get drunk on Moscow Mules, and then whisper into your hair that he was glad you were here. 

Which is what you told yourself the entire ride home, hoping to counteract the anxiety that the liquor brought on. Alyssa giggled in the backseat and swiped through photos of the show on her phone, showing them to Harry, beaming like a proud parent. She slipped into her bedroom after you all rode up in the elevator, insisting that she was exhausted and sleep-deprived, but you knew it wasn’t that. She hoped that more alcohol and late night chatting would lend itself to a different night entirely, one that you knew wasn’t possible between two people like you and Harry. 

So when her bedroom door shut and the both of you were left standing awkwardly in the middle of your living room, you offered the only solution you could think of: wine.

“Does it turn on?” you heard him call from the living room as you sifted through the drawers in the kitchen. Spatula, no, can opener, no. Your hand landed on the wine opener, pulling it out of the heap of other kitchen utensils before rounding the corner back towards the couch. 

“Hmm?” the bottle clinked against the glasses in your arm as you tried to deliver them all safely to the surface of the coffee table. 

“The Christmas tree,” he said, but you didn’t see him. 

He’d left his spot on the couch--trading it for a place beside the tree--kneeling and reaching for the wire in the back as he tried to shove it into the socket. 

“Oh, yeah, just--”

He succeeded before you could give him any pointers, the room illuminated in different shades of greens, reds, yellows, and blues. He turned his head to look at you before getting up, a smug twitch of his lips as you let out a laugh. 

“I’m quite handy, y’know,” he said casually, pushing himself off of the floor before sinking into the couch. “Leaky faucet? I’m your man.”

You rolled your eyes as you cut open the foil around the cork, his eyes on your fingers as you inserted the screw, fighting a smile. “I’ve got a super, but thanks.”

“A super?”

“Superintendent. S’a person who lives in the building and does all of the handy work. New York thing, maybe.”

“Your loss,” he reached for the wine glasses and held them up, letting you tip the bottle into them. 

You cheersed and took a sip, the quiet of the room settling around you as he lifted an ankle to rest on his knee. “I talked to Adam the other day.”

You didn’t mean to make a face like it surprised you, but it happened before you could stop it. 

“You act like he wouldn’t answer my calls or something,” he laughed, clearly amused by your intrigue.

“No, it’s not--” a sigh as you searched for the right phrasing. “I just know he misses you. Jake, too.”

“Yeah--well, was good to talk to him. I told him we’d been hanging out. He said he already knew.” He smiled at you playfully, using his words to accuse you of talking behind his back.

You bit your lip and gave a dismissive blink of your eyes. “S’not my fault I keep in touch,” the  words fell out of your mouth, landing in the air between you, maybe too harsh. 

He was quiet for a second, nodding slowly. “I’ll text them all tomorrow. We’ll set something up for the holidays. When are you back, again?”

“The 20th.”

“Eleven days,” he thought aloud. “We should fly together.”

“Together?”

“Yeah--I know you already booked, maybe you can get credit or something to change flights or seats.” He rested his head on the back of the couch, his eyes closing for a moment.

“When are you going?”

“‘Round then as well. I can have Erica look into it tomorrow,” he said. 

You let it go, too tired to push or pull or do anything besides listen to him tell you about his time off. He’d been busy with tour and promo and all the things that apparently came along with his lifestyle. He was excited for some down time. Family meals, hometown pubs, and you believed him when he said you’d be a part of it. 

While there had previously been a don’t ask, don’t tell attitude about him being back home, it felt different. He promised to see your parents and to head to Red Lion with the gang, a smile through sleepy eyes after a half hour of planning.

“You should go,” you laughed at him, reaching forward to take the empty wine glass from his hand.

He pushed his lips out, his eyes glued on a framed picture of you and your sister. “Don’t wanna.”

“Don’t wanna?” Your lips quirked upwards, unaware that he had a say in the matter.

He turned to look at you. “M’having fun, Smalls.”

It dawned on you then that he was tired and slightly intoxicated. Maybe not the worst you’d ever seen him, but definitely a little buzzed.

“Well, bedtime. And you can’t stay here.”

Another frown, his eyes flashing to yours quickly. You tried not to overthink it. 

“Come on,” you said, standing from the couch to fetch his coat from the hook on the door. He made a face at that--one that looked bothered and disappointed all at once. He pulled himself off of the cushions, as if every movement was painful and exhausting. 

“Dunno if I’ll make it,” his accent was thick, you didn’t know if it was the wine or the lack of sleep, likely both. He took a few steps towards you and reached for his jacket, taking it from your arms and shrugging it on. 

You watched him for a second, the dim light of the Christmas tree kept the room glowing and warm. The stubble on his chin looked more pronounced than yesterday, his eyes a deeper green in the night. 

“You’ll make it,” you said quietly, the words barely above a whisper as he shoved his hands into his pockets. 

He looked down at you, blinked twice, and leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll call you in the morning, yeah?”

He didn’t need to. He didn’t need to call you or text you or even promise to see you again if he didn’t want to. But you didn’t say that. You swallowed the anxiety that lodged in your throat, the voice that gnawed and chanted two years too late as he stepped around you.

“Okay,” you said. 

He pulled the door open, offering another smile before pulling it shut. You heard his footsteps head for the stairs, only four flights down to the sidewalk out front. 

There was no car, no Roger. He didn’t call ahead. You wondered if he liked walking the snowy streets, and you wondered if he’d also trace the night in reverse, each step until now. You wondered what he’d say if you brought it up. 

You wondered, but you decided you could live with the not knowing as you climbed into cool sheets and clamped your eyelids shut.

read the other parts here

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LMK what you think!

[flandesuka]

Yo you should answer all of these scene questions👀👀

:OOO

you think so lad???? shit dawg i was thinkin just a few at a time but if that what u want my dear nonnie i will supply

1. wats ur scene name?

i was thinkin maybe ‘gods mistake’ would be a good one but then. i found a way to make it both danganronpa related, and, even better, a fucking pun as well. ‘kamukura kamukura jasqueen’, or just ‘kamukura jasqueen’ for short is good k thxxx

2. describe ur dream outfit!

oooo gosh this ones trickyy!! there are so many good outfits out there, especially in the scene community!! but it’d have to have a few tiny elements of dr cosplay to add a lil of my dangan-weeb culture in there ofc! more specifically, id really love to get one of kazuichis jumpsuit and just wig out and add shit like this just because i could:

(id just rlly love going out in all those glowy/shiny things at night like all that haha..and yes the shoes would probably kill me/my fuckin feet if i tried to walk in them but shut up i love them theyre cute as fuck)

3. describe ur dream haircut!

oo another tricky one!! i do like my regular hair, and honestly id be lying if i said i didnt love ibuki’s hairdo too but id defs have to go with something like this!!

yaaaassss, so pretty and spikeeeey! maybe id dye my natural hair colour black and/or add some funky colours if i ever actually got this style down!

4. describe ur dream room!

i have a lot of ideas for dream bedrooms actually, but heres a visual image of one of them i found!!!

MIKU ROOM MIKU ROOM MIKU ROOM MIKU ROOM

(this specific idea arose mainly just for the aesthetic but i also find it super cute and a good environment to be in general hhhnnggg)

5. if u could make anything out of kandi, wat would u make?

oh you mean those colourful beads and bracelet things??? i love those man!!! theyre so visually appealing to me aaaaa…id probably just make a fuck-ton of those and most probably use the little letter beads to say random words/phrases like ‘aubergine’ and ‘despacito’ knowing my shitposter self lmaooo! id definitely make a sansmaeda themed one too thoo fr

6. wat would u write on ur shoez?

it’d probably range from things like a simple kaomoji doodle to something randum and stupid like ‘seesaw’ bc yes asjnd

7. wat kinda piercingz/tattooz do u hav/want?

i dont think i rlly want any real piercings (at least not atm) but id totally go for those fake stick-on gemstone lookin’ ones! and as for tattoos, i cant rlly see myself gettin one of those rn either, but id want something like a mario power-up, preferably the bell one/cat suit powerup!!! its my favorite powerup and its sooo cute!!!

8. fave genrez?

i dont rlly have a specific genre, i like most kinds of music, but i rlly like energetic music that i can dance tooo!!! >w

9. fave bandz?

im a big fan of gorillaz and botdf!!! i like p!atd as well but havent listened to it in a while.. gatta catch up loool

10. fave songz?

my favs alternate a lot, but atm im super into ‘slow dancing in the dark’ by joji!!! so much emotiooon quq…also rlly hooked on botdf and jefree star’s ‘sexting’ tooo lmaooo

11. fave lyricz?

‘The world keeps spinning Among this sinning Oh what a cruel and disgusting place The purest moonlight Is bloodied by plight And screaming resonants But somehow I know That it’s all for show The world will reveal it’s true beauty soon And we’ll all reach towards the moon ‘

its so deep but its from a fucking kaito momota fansong and i love that asnkjdnefe

12. hav u evr been to a concert?

not in a damn long while my lad,, rip australians not havin many artists they like from other countries tour there ;-;

13. do u wanna be in a band?

ive always thought thatd be pretty cool ngl!!! tourin around with ur bandmate friends, makin awesome fuckin tunes, people lovin u and ur music, just livin the dream in general,, nice

14. wats da best soda/energy drink flavour?

havent rlly had any as of rn  my lad so i wouldnt know :/

15. wat do u miss most abt old internet?

i loved that we could all just be ourselves and act like the kids we are inside without bein reprimanded at all.. it aint rlly that much of an issue for me but i still think itd be a lot nicer if it was like that again sometimes,,

16. wats da best old meme?

ooohhh there are so many i still miss man! numa numa ermagerd and doge still remind me of the glory days…when old animeme was good and you could still haz ur cheezburgers in peace. also rage comics! rage comics were good what happened

17. best place 2 buy clothez?

i dont think theres any hot topics in australia but if there is. i will hunt it down you hear me

18. wat r ur fave accessoriez?

OH THERES SO MANY GOOD ONES??? as i stated b4 i rly love kandi bracelets and other glowy/led things!!! also rlly love ties with cute and fun patterns and long colourful and/or ripped socks like ibuki’s too hehe

19. wats ur best tip fr ppl that just got into scenecore?

im not rlly the best at advice, but my main point would be-just hav fun here dudes!!! dont let anyone else bulli u abt it, we’re supportive people, u can talk to me or anyone else whos willin to listen an/or help for reassurance ofc

20. opinion on furbiez?

oOH MY GOD YES. FURBIES. MY BABIES I WANT 10 OF THESE CHILDREN…I ACTUALLY HAVE A FURBY HE LIKES SLEEPING IN HIS SPECIAL DRAWER AND HIS NAME IS TINGLE I ADORE HIM I’LL POST A OF PICTURE LATER MAYBE

21. opinion on funko popz?

i like em and ive seen lots at eb games, but i dont buy em much..i do have a megaman pop with a broken arm tho loool

22. wats ur fave pattern? (zebra/leopard print etc)

i looove a lot of patterns but not gonna lie im always a sucker for rainbow checkerboard patterns yknow hehe!

23. fave color combo?

i dont have one rlly…soooo many possible comboooos…cx

24. sumthing u liked as a kid dat u still like?

im still going on girlsgogames and recently, ive finally mastered sues beauty machine!!!! its so good and fun all of ya’ll should try it my dudeeees

25. wats ur most used emoticon? 0w0

as most of ya’ll probs alredy know i spam ‘:O’ a lot, but one of my bigger favs is actually ‘x3′ and my fav kaomoji is ‘ଘ(੭ˊ꒳​ˋ)੭✧’ (both of them are so kyooot >w

26. wats ur fav typin quirk?

i luv talkin like dis, but i dont rly do it that often loool…i awso wuv tawking in ‘owo’ speak wike dis >//w//>

27. do u wish ur fllwrz talked 2 u moar?

hellz yeaaa!!! i luv followr interaction my dudee! it makes me super happi when u all talk to me heehee! x3c

28. tag ur fave scene blawgz!

:O !!! oh gawd!!! i dont know many atm but heeereee!

@xxadam-antidotexx (op of the ask meme)

@glitchkichi (not sure if this counts but their stuff’s rlly cool >v

@otonashi-banana (scene boyf…wuv im more than anythin >///w///>

29. wat got u into scenecore?

i dont remember exactly how it happened but i’d always sorta wanted to go back to the glory days that was the old web and the scene era, and that, coupled with a bright, colourful aesthetic that i could really enjoy, drew me in like a moth to a neon colored flame ig looollll

30. how long hav u been scene?

i’ve only been officially apart of the community for about a few months now (at time of writing) i reckon so some things are still a lil new to me ig ^^;;

31. wats da best thing abt being scene?

the freedom of bein able to express myself 4 one thing, and its just so fun being so ‘out-there’ yknow???? it feels so great really

32. do u hav a fursona?

i…actually used to but ive moved on from the furry fandom and ive grown more attached to my human sona anyway sooo :/

33. r u in sum “cringy” fandomz?

YEA man!! i dont rlly think dr is inherently considered ‘cringey’ but undertale is and im in that one for sure!!! i also kinda technically never left the skylanders fandom(?) so theres that too ig??? oh yeah and who wants to let me draw my old moshi monsters characters COWARDS

34. do u liek plushiez?

YASSSS QUEEEN!!!! i have HEAPS of them in my room on my desk with my gonta shrine

35. do u liek stickerz?

also a big yaaassss from me dawggg!!! i love them and i love those ones that you stick on your fase like this!

its so cuuute!!!

36. do u hav a friendproject?

i dont, not at the moment a least, actually! didnt even know what it was til recently but it looks kewl haha

37. do u hav any other scene account?

well, i haz this one, and i also have an emowire account for shuichi if that counts!!

38. do u make art? (drawingz, blingeez, etc.)

YES!!! i love to draw and i also make blingee edits sometimes!!! ITS SO FUN XD !!!

39. wats da most scene thing? (anything!)

hmmm, weeell…i think the most stereotyped thing would be that kewl, suuuper big hair like this;

its really prettyyyy, and i love all that colouuur!!!

40. ask ur own randum question!!

hm, oh wowie, since the anon didnt specifically ask this one…POTATOES!!! X3

phew, finally done, that was a lot of typing! this was so fun to do though, so thank u nonnie!!! :3

[dalilaswork]

HELLDREAMERS Pt. I || Connor x Reader

Author: Dalila Ship: Connor Murphy x Reader Word count: 3.271 Trigger Warnings: destuctive thought, mentions of self harm, half-attempted suicide, low self-esteem, anger management problems, shitty writing.

YOU

So, first day of school, huh? Senior year... Yeah, that really sucks. Especially after moving in from a whole another town. But it happens. You just got to deal with it. Like you deal with every other shit that happens in your life.

I picked out the jeans and the t-shirt I left at the chair the day before and looked at my reflection in the mirror.

God, I looked so ugly.

I couldn't help but see how my nose was too big, how my eyes were too small, how uneven my skin colour was. Those were minorities that most people just ignored, but I saw them everytime I looked at myself . And no matter how many compliments I heard, it just wouldn't go away.

I got dressed and looked at my reflection once more: something was missing. Sure - a hoodie. No one needs to see my scars. At least not yet.

Downstairs, my mother was already filling up some papers, I could hear that. But before I went down I looked out the window: luckily my brother's car wasn't there. It was safe.

Malcolm wasn't just a regular annoying older brother. He was a drug addict with serious mental issues. My parents tried their best to help him, but Malcolm could never admit something was wrong with him. From his point of view, we were the psychos.

After grabbing the bag, I ran down the stairs and quickly got to the door. I wanted to escape, but my mother wouldn't just let me go. She looked up from the documents just as you I began to tie my shoelaces.

"Why are you leaving without breakfast? You should eat something."

You should eat more, you're unhealthy. You should eat less, you're gaining weight.

"I'm not hungry yet. I'll grab something before classes start." I said quickly before running out the door, so my mother wouldn't drag me into a much worse conversation.

Quickly I searched the pockets of my jeans for the earbuds. I needed to numb myself . After picking my favourite song to play, I began looking around the new neighbourhood.

Almost all houses looked the same; same neat lawns, same driveways, same roofs. I was sick of it. I missed my old house, far from the noises of the town, with a forest nearby. It was my home.

I finally reached the school. Nothing too worrying. From the outside everything looks normal. It's the inside that hides the horrors.

After settling the usual stuff like a small tour and a visit to the headmaster's office, I was left alone in the corridor. However, I didn't get to enjoy the loneliness for long, as someone pulled at my sleeve. I turned around to see a smiling girl with a book in her hand and glasses on her nose.

"Hi, I'm Alana. Are you new here? I don't think I've seen you before." she smiled even wider. For some reason I found the smile simply fake. After all, who in their right minds just goes up to a new kid with a smile so wide?

"Do you know every kid around that you're so surprised? It's a big school." I lifted an eyebrow at her, wondering how she might react.

Her smile got thinner at my words, she must have not expected that. "I-I mean, I try to remember everyone, and I really d-didn't see you here before, so..." she began rushing the words.

"Nice," I cut her short. "I rarely remember faces." I didn't really feel like talking to her. She did seem like that kid, who wanted to be friendly towards everyone everytime. "See ya." I hated that sort of people.

"Wait, I didn't catch your name," stubborn, I thought.

"(Y/N)"

"Will I see you at lunch?" she asked, going back to that unsettling smile.

"Dunno, maybe." I quickly turned my back and headed forward. I had no idea which direction I was going for, I just wanted to get rid of that Alana girl.

I hated people who were always so nice to everyone. Mostly because, from my previous experience, it always turns out to be just an act. A facade created to look cool. Not once had I heard that someone was there for me if I wanted to talk, but when I really wanted to talk, they'd always be busy. But I got used to it.

I got used to a lot of things.

I looked down at the schedule I was holding. Of course, trying to get away from Alana I ended up going in the wrong direction. Luckily, the school was planned quite easily, so I had no problem knowing which way to go.

I just needed to go through a small corridor to get to the other building. The corridor was significantly smaller, actually. I could only see one person there. A tall boy with shoulder-length brown hair. I walked past him, but I stopped when I heard someone speak.

"Hey, Connor. I'm loving the new hair length. Very school shooter chic."

I turned around to see that another kid walked in. So the tall one was Connor. School shooter, maybe they were friends. Friends sometimes have weird sense of humour with each other.

All I could see was Connor's back and the other guy's face. He had short, light brown hair and glasses. From his expression I could tell that they weren't friends. He was just being an asshole.

"I was kididng, it was a joke." he said, rolling his eyes. Yet another type of person I couldn't stand. I immediately recalled how people at my old school used to laugh that way at me.

"Yeah," Connor's voice seemed so... Emotionless. "No, it was funny. I'm..."

"Your jokes are even worse than your style." I stepped towards the kid. For a moment standing beside Connor.

"What's your problem?" the kid stepped back. For me it was an encouragement to go further.

"You. You're my fucking problem. You think you're funny? My dead grandmother was funnier at her funeral!" I told him as I kept walking towards him. The kid must have got scared a little, because he raised his hands in defeat.

"Jeeez, calm your tits, dude. " he said and walked off. Only now I noticed there was another guy, with a cast on his left arm. Just when I laid my eyes on him, he followed the jerk out of the corridor.

"Sorry for that. I get a little carried away when I hear douchebags like that." I said as I turned back to Connor. He was pale, and I think his eyes were slightly red. "So... I guess you're Connor, right?" I looked up at him and tried to smile.

He narrowed his eyes at me and took a step back. "Why would you care?" as I looked at him; he somehow resembled of a cornered bunny.

"I don't know," I didn't want to push him. "I don't like jerks. You don't seem like one." I shrugged and looked down at my watch. I was short on time. Well, I could easily blame it on getting lost. "I'm (Y/N)... if you care." I said and moved past him to find my class. First English. Then Art. Then Math. We'll see how it goes.

...

It was weird.

Either I was brilliant at math, or this whole school was so backwards. During the lesson I got a little carried away with my thoughts, and instead of listening to the teacher I just began drawing doodles in my notebook.

"(Y/N) (L/N)..."

"Yes?" I got my head up as I heard my name.

The teacher must have noticed that I didn't pay any attention. "I understand the struggles of being a new student, but that isn't an excuse. You should be paying attention."

You should pay attention, you should do this, you should do that, you should...

"Do you even have an idea what to do with this problem?" the teacher gestured to the blackboard and crossed his arms on his chest.

Luckily, I remembered that problem. My previous teacher was pretty strict, so the entire class was always ahead of the schedule. I told him how to solve it. He seemed pretty impressed.

I didn't pay much attention to it, though. I went back to my doodles, occasionally looking up at the teacher.

But it only got weirder as the doorbell rang.

"H-Hey" a kid walked up to me as I was gathering my stuff from the desk.

"Hey" I replied, looking up at him. I noticed the cast on his left arm. "What's up?" I asked, only now remembering that this kid was also in the corridor with the douche, Connor, and me.

"Well, I-I thought... I mean, I'm not that good at math..." he seemed anxious. He didn't even look at me as he spoke.

"I can help." I said quickly. I felt bad when he was stuttering like that. "When?"

"Oh, really?" his eyes opened widely. "What time... Uh, is Wednesday okay with you? If not, then..."

"Wednesday it is then." I smiled at him, wanting to reassure him. I wondered, was he always like this or was it because of the morning incident? "By the way, I'm (Y/N). And, uhm... I'm sorry I yelled at your friend. But he was being a jerk."

"I'm Evan. And Jared... He's not my friend... I mean, he's a family friend. It's different, apparently." We walked out of the classroom together. "Uhm, do you... Have a minute?" he asked, running a hand through his hair.

"I have, why?"

"I need to go to the computer lab for a second, but... Maybe we could eat lunch together?"

"Sure. I can go with you to the lab."

"Oh, but I-I meant the lunch, not the lab" he began stuttering again.

"I know. I just didn't want to sit there by myself." I lied. I would be totally fine with it. But to be honest, I felt a bit protective over Evan.

"Oh, OK." he only said and rushed to the computer lab. I followed slightly behind, picking at my (f/c) nail polish. His phone started ringing, so I got even more behind, to avoid eavesdropping. He seemed a bit upset. Once we were finally there, he began writing something on the computer and I sat on one of the chairs nearby . I took a moment to look closely at the kid.

As he sat on the chair, probably unaware of me looking at him, he looked pretty normal. Just another teenager with blue striped polo shirt and short honey blonde hair. He was quietly tapping on the keyboard. There was a bit of a contrast between that kid and the one who approached me after math. "What're writing?" I asked, looking down so he wouldn't know I was staring.

"Oh that's just a stupid, it's a paper I have to write for a, uhm, for an assignment..."

"For school?

"Actually, no... Ahm, my therapist... I don't know..."

"If you don't feel comfortable talking about it, it's fine." I told him. And then we fell into an uncomfortable silence, that was broken only by the sound of the printer from the other side of the room. I got up and headed towards the door. Evan didn't get up, though. He just sat there. I stopped, one foot in the lab, one already outside

"So." I turned around when I heard a familiar voice. "What happened to your arm?" Connor stood in front of Evan, nervously hiding his hand in his pocket. In his other hand he held a paper. Was he there all along?

Evan looked a little startled. "Oh, I uhm, I fell out of a tree actually."

"You fell out of a tree?" I saw how Connor smiled before letting out a chuckle. "That is just the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard. Oh my God... " to my surprise, Evan also began to smile. He seemed a bit less scared. That was good. Connor shook his hand before moving closer to Evan.

"I know.." Evan chuckled as well, getting up from his chair.

"No one's signed your cast."

Evan's smile got thinner at the words. "No, I know." only now I noticed that the cast was indeed empty.

"I'll sign it. " I smiled at Connor's words. It was nice of him. I moved towards them, scanning through my bag.

"Me too. " I said before Evan could get any weak protest out of his mouth and handed Connor a sharpie. He looked at me in disbelief.

"I thought you left." Connor narrowed his eyes at me. He raised his hand to take the sharpie, but hesitated.

"Well, I didn't. " I smiled at him and tilted my head a little.

"You're like, a fucking phantom girl. " he shook his head and took the sharpie. Also, I think I may have seen a shadow of a smile playing on his lips. He signed Evan's cast first, then I took out another sharpie to do the same, but with smaller letters, slightly above the huge CONNOR.

"So, now we can all pretend we have friends, right?" Connor said, with this tired smile growing on his lips.

"Why pretend?" I asked, looking at the two boys in front of me. When I first saw Evan, I thought he was Jared's friend. Another douche. But he was just an anxious boy, in need of a friend. Just like me. And Connor...

Connor looked at me for a while. I had no idea why. Then he offered me a slight smile as he looked down. "Maybe... Uhm, I think it's yours? I... I heard you talking about the assignment, so I grabbed it for you." he awkwardly held the paper for Evan to get.

"Oh, uhm... Thanks..." Evan reached out and took the paper from Connor. His cheeks were blushing. Was he ashamed that Connor heard us?

"I hope it's not a habit of yours to eavesdrop on people." I joked and put the sharpie in my bag. I looked back up with a smile.

But Connor wasn't smiling. His face went pale, even more than before and I could see how his hands were shaking a little. "You think I wanted to hear that?" I think his breathing got a bit heavier. "What, you think I'm this kind of freak that goes around and spies on everyone?" his voice raised and I stepped back, slightly taken aback. "Is that what you think?!"

"N-No..." I stuttered as I saw him raging. It was just a joke, I didn't mean to hurt him in any way.

"Fuck you!" he yelled, throwing the sharpie my way and storming off. I didn't even have time to react, so the sharpie just bounced off my head. I simply stood there, bewildered. Evan looked at me and then at the door. He started picking at the hem of his shirt nervously.

"Is he always like this?" I asked, before finally realising something. I looked down at my watch. "God, my class starts now. " I didn't even notice the time passing as we sat in the lab. I took out an empty paper out of the printer and scribbled my name and phone number. "If you need anything, just call or text me. Bye, Evan!" I waved before running out of the lab. I checked the schedule. French. Just around the corner. Perfect.

But as I glanced to the window, I noticed a tall figure running towards the park. A familiar figure, with long hair. I wondered if I should go follow him...

No.

He clearly wanted to be alone.

And we weren't friends. Not really. I still didn't understand why he stormed off like that. Was it really because of what I said?

No, I wasn't rude. I was just trying to be friendly and make a joke. What was his problem?

Maybe there was something I didn't know...

"Hey Zoe, isn't that your brother running off to the park?" I heard someone say. I turned around to see who it was. A guy in some band's shirt and short black hair was talking to a brown haired girl. When it came to style, she couldn't be more different than Connor. But when I looked at her face I could find a few similarities.

Leave it (Y/N). It's not your problem. He's not even your friend. Why would you care?

Maybe because someone has to...

I came up to the girl. "Are you, uhm..." that was the second time today that I randomly walked up to someone just because I heard something that wasn't even meant for me. Why am I doing this? You don't even know him. "I'm sorry, this must seem weird as hell but... Are you Connor's sister?" I asked, biting on my lower lip. Great job (Y/N), now she probably thinks you're crazy...

I watched the expressions on Zoe's face change from confusion, to irritation, to concern. "Did he do something?" she asked quietly, so only I could hear. The boy took a few steps back to give us some privacy, but I noticed how he looked at me. As if I said something strange. "He's a freak, so if he'd done anything..."

"No, he didn't. I was just wondering... Could you send him a message from me?"

She furrowed her brow at me, but eventually nodded. "What is it?"

"Just... Tell him that I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Please, just text him..."

"... Okay."

CONNOR

The world is just a mess. A fucking mistake. And why should I be a part of this misery?

I sat in the park near the school. It was quiet here, at least for now. Mostly because all the annoying jerks were still at school. It was better this way. No one to see me break down.

The world's a fucking mess. The school's a fucking mess. I'm a fucking mess.

Why did I storm off  like that? The girl was actually pretty nice. It could be just a joke. Was it really? She didn't look like a typical bully. They never look like this. She said we could really be friends...

She was just trying to mock you, idiot.

She's new. She doesn't know me, probably never even heard of me. Which is for the best, actually.

Please, who the fuck would want you as a friend? You're a freak. You're the freak.

She defended me.

She pitied you.

I dug my fingers in my head, trying to get the voices to go away. I was tired of it all, why can't it just go away?

It could go away.

It will go away...

This morning I took a bottle of pills from the bathroom. It could be the end of this. End of this misery. I mean, no one would care, right?

*BEEP*

For fuck's sake.

I had tears in my eyes as I looked at the phone. It was lying on the ground next to my leg. I wanted to ignore it. There was Zoe's name after all. I just wanted to throw the phone away.

But then I saw the message. It was short, but it hit me like a ton of bricks.

From: ZOE (Y/N) says she's sorry.

I held the phone in my hand. It was shaking. I was shaking. Why was I shaking?

It's been so long since anyone apologised to me. Sincerely...

I don't really know why, but instead of throwing my phone, like I previously planned, I ended up throwing the bottle of pills away...

A/N

There are three other parts (for now) on wattpad, if you want to read the whole thing and leave feedback, you can search the title HELLDREAMERS on wattpad and it should show up.

[franeridart]

Was there a colored page of kirishima with black hair? I can't remember, but if there wasn't confirmation; what if his hair is a wildly different color and since manga is black n white no one can tell lmao

Might be, but even if it weren’t striktly black it still has to be some dark and dull color, or else he didn’t have any reason to call himself plain, right? No actual need to dye it either, really!

Anon said:Denki once jokingly said he just needs to stick a fork in a powersocket to pull an all nighter but now everyone wants to know if that can happen

I’m sure with everyone you mean the squad which as we all know is made of irresponsible idiots and enablers to every and all stupid/reckless ideas - I’m 100% convinced they all told Kaminari to “prove it, then” and Kaminari was definitely ready with fork in hand 0.2 seconds later and if it weren’t that they decided to be idiots in the common room and Iida happened across them just as he was about to stick the fork in the plug they would have already short-circuited the whole dorms building lmao

Anon said:i was going through ur bnha fusions au and i wanted to ask, who do u think would form the most dtable fusion with mineta?

Kaminari!! Ofc, he’s his best friend - he’s pretty much perfectly stable with Sero and Tsuyu too, tho~

Anon said:Have you seen bungo stray dogs? The boss of the good guys is exactly the description you have for aizawa you'd lov him

I watched the first season! My faves used to be Chuuya and Tanizaki, but all in all the pacing of the anime felt too off to me, I couldn’t properly get into it orz I thought about trying with the manga but as far as I get it translations aren’t regular? I don’t know it sounds like too much work lmao

Anon said:i spent the entire day going through your blog and i have fallen in love with ur art and ur art style and bakushimanari is now my ot3 thank u so much for drawing those three have a great day

aaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! Thank you SO MUCH!!!!!! ;A;

Anon said:Hey! I'm in love with the kiribaku kids (they're so cute omg). Do you have any ideas about other bnha characters'/couples' kids?

!!! Thank you!!!!! And not really actually, usually I think about this kind of things only if they’re asked directly, making fandom ocs isn’t really something I do usually lol BUT I did spend a lot of time thinking about quirk genetics (caaaaaaauuuuuuuussssseeeeeee I’m a nerd) and the most powerful combinations possible if the bnha kids had to have a baby AND my personal conclusion is that Bakugou and Mina should seriously think about having a kid. Just saying. Fuck Todoroki, that’s a kid destined to be number one.

Anon said:So your shark Kiri is my favorite mermaid au of BNHA ever. I just adore it and wanted to let you know :)

Ahhh!!!!! thank you oh my gods ;A;!!!!!

Anon said:Dav my boy!!!!!! Oh how I missed his lovely face!!!!!!!!! Thank you for this blessing ;-;

Hahaha I don’t know why you like him this much but that’s my pleasure, really! I’m always doodling my kids anyway, might as well line and post them now and again haha

Anon said:I'm assuming kiri and bakugo are married in the parents au and if so, who proposed and how?? Also maybe what was the wedding like?? I know this is beyond the au itself but ahsjakal I'm so curious now. Also the kids look so at home with them I'm living for it

Boi anon, I didn’t really think that far about this haha generally my usual headcanon about who proposed to whom is that, like, they’ve been dating since high school, right? And at some point they just started saying stuff like “when we’ll live together” or “once we’ll be married” or stuff like that, so it was always something that was going to happen sooner or later, for them? Since they never thought they’d ever break up. I don’t really feel like changing that for this specific AU tbh haha but as far as specifics go... yeah, let’s go with this

So let’s say that one day, they’re over 25yo but under 30, and they’ve been living together since the dorms days, and one day Bakugou goes with the usual “once we’ll be married---” sentence starter that’s become part of their daily vocabulary at this point, only this time instead of letting him finish Kirishima interrupts him with “why not do that already?”. After all they have the money for it. Stable income. An apartment. And they’re pretty much acting as if they’re married already anyway. And Bakugou’s like “...shit, yeah, why the fuck not.”

(cue very huge elated smiles on both of their faces)

The initial idea was to just sign their names and be done with it, but in the end they plan for it. Their parents are the first to get involved, but then Kaminari and Mina learn about it and it becomes, like, a huge thing. They make reservations both for the restaurant and the hall. Personalized invitations. Themed flower decorations. The menu and the wedding list and tux’s and music, all perfectly thought out. They get all their friends working abroad to take at least that one day off to attend, hell, all in all they’re the first couple of of their year (former 1A and 1B both) to actually get married this is huge this is important everyone’s so excited that even Bakugou starts being unbearably giddy about the idea, even though he’d initially hoped for something way smaller. So they plan for it. And it’s huge and amazing and a dream. And they’re there and they’re gonna walk down the aisle together and Bakugou’s sweating and Kirishima’s crying already and they’re smiling so damn hard and then villains attack. Ofc they do. After all it’s one hall full of god knows how many heroes all not in their gear and probably with their guard down and, sure, everyone had tried to not make the wedding a public thing but this kind of news have a way of always reaching the wrong ears and. Yeah.

Well, in the end they win but the wedding is sorta ruined. Kirishima and Bakugou specifically don’t care all that much, their suits are ruined - Bakugou’s burnt all over the place and Kirishima’s barely holding together at all and there might be blood somewhere, too - and the hall is half destroyed and they had to evacuate most civilians and, well, it’s a mess, but when they really think about it did they even expect anything different? So in the end it’s over fourty people between ex schoolmates and former teachers and various parental figures and Baku and Kiri’s parents crammed in a governamet office, still covered in dust and ash and with their clothes a mess, and Bakugou and Kirishima sign their names on the official papers and it’s, it’s okay Mina and Kaminari are crying over their wasted efforts but it’s fine this is exactly as it’s supposed to be

They still leave for the honeymoon next day tho, that’s the one part they were truly looking forward to nothing’s gonna take that away from them

[drawgreenday]

YAAALLL (detective work + lil contest)

So i managed to reach over 250 of yall that follow me!! .......why though quq

Anyways, to celebrate this occasion (and the fact that I still don’t understand why any of yall actually like my stupid doodles) I’m gonna do a little something to get you guys more involved than just submitting things to me and waiting like 3 days for me to get to it (my ask box is a war zone im drowning in suggestions yall). 

Basically what I’m doing is holding a little doodle contest and a small detective work thing! But I’m not just gonna have yall do this without a lil something in return, yknow?

!!!!!!THERE WILL BE ART REWARDS!!!!!!

and I don’t mean like my regular doodles, I mean as if I was gonna do a commission or a request, like so:

So how do you get art rewards??? Well...

Firstly! I’m usually the one making up doodles to your suggestions yknow? But I’m gonna turn the tables on YALL for a hot second. “But what if I can’t draw?” some may ask, and I don’t care if the best you can do is stick figures, i wanna see how creative yall are!!!! “uummm didnt you make this to draw our suggestions?” ...yes good point but I wanna see what yall can do, yknow!!!

For this one, I’m having three prompts for yall to draw (or write if you wanna!) out! I’ll pick two people from this! The first winner will be based on creativity and how well they responded to the prompt!!! Second one will be based on artistic ability/if when i see their style i scream that I want them to murder me with their glorious godly pencil/tablet pen!!! “just give us the prompts already damn” ok fine u killjoy

✩ First prompt! Super sugoi desu kawaii school girl Green Day

✩ Second Prompt! Tré being... well... Tré

✩ Third Prompt! Green Day vs Muse/My Chemical Romance/ or [insert band of your choosing] ((this can be rly funny or rly violent whatever floats ur boat))

✩ to show me ur art, you can either submit it here, or post it and tag it with #drawgreenday250, whatever floats your boat!

Secondly! “Detective work” you may ask? “What the fuck kinda sherlock holmes lookin ass scavenger hunt does this raccoon want us to go on??” you may wonder? WELL, this raccoon wants to see how good yall are at picking up context clues and finding out my “””secret identity”””.... I am an enigma wrapped in another enigma shrouded in 3 sideblogs and trash merch.... (also this second one seems like a Bad Idea but at the same time I’ve been watching Internet Historian a lot lately and I’m in a ‘sleuthing mood’ yknow???)

“this doesn’t sound fun”/”is this a shitty self promo thing”/”oh shit you watch internet historian too!!!” then don’t do it/no i’m just like legit in the mood for some sherlock type shit i mean have you watched internet historian and how those dudes he talks about took down Shia like so fast??? that is a mood i wanna achieve/HELL YEAH

What do yall do for this?

✩ just find my main blog that’s it it shouldn’t be that hard to find and this should be an easy win if you don’t wanna draw because I understand that motivation and art block are real things even when given prompts/ideas to do but you can’t force yourself to draw because when you do it turns out Not Good and it discourages you from drawing for a while. wait no that’s just me? damn.

✩ but yeah first person to send me an ask on here (not on anon) with my url OR messages me via my main blog gets a drawing and a personalized “u tried star” with benadryl cumbersnatch’s face on it!!!

Those are the two options!! Shitty but this is my first time doing something like this!!!!! aaaaaaaaaaa!!! I keep screaming!!!!!!!!!

Anyways... I keep saying art rewards but what exactly is it again?

Well, the three chosen ones will receive:

✩ actually nice drawings (like the ones pictured above) of any person/character they want! (with a nice simple background). ((If you win srry m8 but no heavy nsfw stuff, i can’t draw furries, and limited to one person in the drawing so I can give u ur art on time))

✩ personalized u tried stars based on the category! (but nice u tried stars. FancyTM ones.)

!!!prompt submissions are due august 5th!!! anything after that won’t be counted!!

but yeah.

that’s it

...I don’t know how to do this properly sorry once more but let me just finish this off by saying that I just really love yall and I wouldn’t’ve gotten to this point without yall and your support of my shitty doodles. Doing these doodles has also really helped me to do more with my art and improve and feel better and it’s really nice to know that there are people that actually like my art and terrible doodles and are just so kind and welcoming and amazing to me. I’ve been on this hellsite for so long but I’ve always felt like an outsider of every single community/fandom I’ve been a part of. I’ve been a fan of green day since I came fresh outta the womb (kidding actually since I was 4) and it just makes me so happy to know that there’s such a kind community for the band that’s helped shape me into who I am today and who I aspire to be in the future. This community feels so inviting and warm and all the people I’ve met, although not many, have just been so sweet and wonderful. sure there will be ups and downs, as it happens in every community, but throughout all the time i’ve been on the internet, the green day community has always remained relatively sweet and kind and I feel like yall are a family to me at this point... I don’t know many of yall or talk to yall but I just want yall to know that I’m proud to be part of this with each and every single one of you. and I’m forever grateful for all that kindness that yall have shown me in the past 3-4 years since I started to get involved in the online community. Thank You all, and i’m gonna cry in my cubicle now quq;;

[likepuppetsonastring]

Do You Trust Me? Pt. 2

A/N: So this is the second part to the fic that I wrote yesterday. I’m still working on the name, so it may change. If you have suggestions, I’ll gladly take them.

Link to part one: http://skinnyscottishblokeaddict.tumblr.com/post/155650933267/pizsospa-cmon-little-dude-you-can-trust-me

"You alright?" "I'm fine, I'm fine. You? Did he hurt you?" "No, no, I'm-" Jack screamed and collapsed...

"Now, I'm thinking," Jack muttered as he hooked the camera up to the computer and fiddled with it, "That I know what we need to do. It's not gonna be easy to get there, but I think we need to go see a friend of mine. He'll probably know how to get you out of here, he's done it before. Just once, mind you, but he's done it." "I'm not the first one to get here?" You took a few steps toward Jack but he stopped you. "What are you doing, by the way?" "Making sure this particular port doesn't close. Camera shuts off, port closes, so I'm plugging in the camera. I don't want you stepping on cable." You shook your head. Sure, why not? It's not like anything else made sense. "Okay then...so who're we going to see?" "Just a friend," Jack said, glancing over with a smile, "I thought it'd be nice to surprise you." You finally managed to return his smile, and he laughed. "There it is! Yeah!" You chuckled. "So, how do we get to him? Can you drive?" "Well...not exactly. That's, uh...not quite how travel works here." He stood, apparently satisfied with his work, and walked over to the door, motioning for you to follow him.

Had you not been right behind him when he opened the door, he probably wouldn't have heard the small gasp you let out. It was the only sound you could manage to make. It was beautiful, in a strange way. Lines and lines and lines of code, stretching out like a floor, bright, fluorescent green on a pitch black background, without a sky, without actual ground. A few yards to either side of you were walls of more code, 0s and 1s stretching up in jagged, flat topped sections, as if you were standing at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. Farther on in the distance was what seemed to be a mountain, or a large hill, still of the same code. Everything looked like it was moving, with the code scrolling and occasionally blinking red. "Whadda ya think?" Jack grinned. And the first thing you could think to say was, "It's definitely not Ireland." That made him laugh. "No, no, no Ireland here." "Are we just gonna...walk the whole way?" "Yep!" And walk he did, you trailing numbly behind him, staring up at the walls. "But it's not all that long. This being my territory, I know a few shortcuts. Base of that mountain? There's a hole in the code I use to get to my friend sometimes. Cuts the trip in half, no problem." "Uh huh." Far above you, sections of code seemed to be flying. Jack followed your glance and nodded at them. "Messages. They're heading to my hub, the computer in there. And then I get to read them." "From us?" He nodded, smiling widely. "And...you read all of them?" "Every single one!" That put a smile on your face. Jack could guess why. "Should I expect one from you?" "...yeah. A couple, actually. Just...doodles." "I love doodles!" He clapped happily. You giggled. "You actually do that. That's awesome."

You walked a while, Jack occasionally pointing things out and explaining them. You managed to guess on your own that the red text was something being edited or deleted, which Jack seemed proud of you for. Once, a message flew a bit too low and Jack ducked too hard and fell. You helped him up once you finished laughing. "Here we go!" Jack said finally, as you paused to look at the code of the mountain's base up close. "Wait here a minute while I find it, yeah?" "Yep," you waved him off. This line of code wasn't moving like the others, and was a little bit duller. Old, you supposed. You wondered what it coded for. A message? A tweet? What if it was a picture? Absently, you put your hand out to trace a zero, and jumped back in surprise when a picture popped up, hologram style. It was a picture of Jack and a fan, with white text under it, reading, "LOOK WHO I MET IN THE SHOPS THE OTHER DAY!!!!!!!!! @therealjacksepticeye". Above it was a tumblr url. "How'd you do that?" Jack had wandered back over, and seemed more interested than concerned. "I just touched it." "Really? No commands or anything? Huh," Jack nodded, then squeezed your shoulders. "I guess bein' real makes you more powerful. Cool. C'mon, let's go." "More powerful," you scoffed as you followed him over to a gap in the wall, and squeezed into it behind him. The ground here was narrow, but not narrow enough to worry you. If you stayed in the middle, even the clumsiest person could walk it safely. There were doors are fairly regular intervals along the walkway, and you figured you were headed toward one of them. "Yeah, more powerful," Jack turned to look at you with mock sternness. "And you won't convince me otherwise." "Does it make me more of a boss than you?" "Now that's crossing the line." "But I've got more power. Ie, more of a boss." "Shut your whore mouth!" "Dickhead!" "Bastard!" It was amazing how comfortable you were with each other. Dreams, you supposed, made it easier to make friends. You were both laughing so hard that you didn't notice the strange, dark green code until Jack was almost standing on it. You had just enough time to say, "Jack, what's tha-?" before screaming. A hand erupted out of the ground, the same strange green as the weird code, and grabbed Jack, slamming him into the ground. He fell with a shouted, "MOTHER FUCKER", and suddenly the hand became a torso and a head, with neon green hair and eyes, fanged, manic grin coming right for you. You fell backward, screaming again as Anti grabbed your shoulders. It hurt, a surprising amount, as if you were getting electrocuted. You struggled, your muscles convulsing horribly, out of your control. He was stronger than you'd thought he'd be. He started to laugh, the maniacal, glitching laugh you remembered from the videos. "Get off them!" Anti was suddenly jerked off of you, rolling with Jack a short way away, but you were too focused on the fact that you were falling. "JACK!" You scrambled to grab the edge, and then you were swinging wildly, feet kicking above the vast, empty void under the walkway. Wordless screams of terror fought to get out of your throat, but that wouldn't help, so you held them back to just whimpers. You could hear fighting over you, glitched yells from Anti and curses galore from Jack. There was a loud thunk, and Jack's face appeared over you. He grabbed your arms and started to pull you up, straining. "Hold on!" "WHAT DO YOU THINK I'M FUCKING DOING?!" "JUST FUCKING HOLD ON!" You managed to get your torso back on solid ground, and Jack let go as you swung your legs up, standing back to give you room. "You alright?" "I'm fine, I'm fine. You? Did he hurt you?" "No, no, I'm-" Jack screamed and collapsed as Anti's hand closed around his arm. And then his arm began to glitch and blink red. "NO!" You shoved, holding onto Jack. Anti looked as surprised as you did when he slid back along the platform, chest glowing red. But Jack's grunts of pain brought you out of your stuper, and you pulled him up and started to run, barreling toward a door, any door. Anti screamed again, running after you, but he was slower now, you'd injured him. "YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM ME!" "SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS!" Jack yelled back hoarsely as the two of you fell through a door.

You thumped onto a platform, and, standing, slowly, you saw that you were apparently on the side of the moutain, quite far up, and possibly on the other side. Jack closed the gap behind you. It looked like he drew code up from the mountain to cover it, weakly tapping bits and pieces of it to get it to go where he wanted. And then he slumped to lie down flat, breathing heavily. "You okay?" You knelt next to him, hands hovering over his still-red arm. It wasn't glitching anymore, which you supposed was good. "Not really," he muttered, trying to shrug and wincing, "But you are. So job done." "Job not done! Can I help? What's wrong with it?" "Not sure you can. Anti's corrupted my coding a little. Not enough for anything horrible, I don't think. But it'll hurt to use that arm for a bit." He managed a half smile. "I think I'll manage fine." You studied the faint red writing, thinking. "I think it's worse than You're saying." Jack shrugged with his good shoulder and you shot him a sharp look before looking back at the injury. "But...Jack...back there, I hit Anti. With something. I don't know. But it turned him red. Maybe I can...I can do it the other way?" He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. "I guess. Not a lot to lose. 'Cept my arm, of course. But I might loose it anyway, so that's fine. Go for it." Great. Thanks for the confidence. You hesitantly put your hand on his arm. When Anti had attacked him, all you'd thought of was getting rid of him. So what would happen if you thought of saving Jack? Just bringing him back and making sure he's alright. He had done so much for you already, making you smile on your worst days, offering you support and hope and a place to belong. You'd always hated seeing him hurt, always wanted desperately to just be able to reach through the screen and give him a hug, make it all better. His arm slowly started to fade back to normal. Jack stared at it, fascinated. When it was normal again, he flexed it, and seemed dumbfounded that it didn't hurt him to do so. "Thanks..." "N-No problem." You honestly hadn't expected that to work. And you weren't sure how it did. You laid down flat beside him, both of you letting out sighs of relief. Without saying a word, you agreed to take a quick break from travelling.

It occured to you suddenly that you'd felt pain back there. And stupid as that sounds...pain meant this wasn't a dream. All of this was real. And Jack had really saved your life. And you were really stranded in a bizarre internet world, with very little chance of getting home. You didn't realize you were crying until Jack scooted over to you and pulled you onto his chest, putting an arm around you. Suddenly, you were sobbing, and you couldn't stop. Jack just rubbed your back and held you. "It's alright. It's gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay." You stayed like that for a long time. Just you, and this digital man, in this empty part of the Web.

[lmm17ca]

Lasse Milling Madsen Letter of Intention for The Animation Workshop 2017

Hello my name is Lasse, I'm currently 23 years old, and I would like to apply for TAW's Character Animation course.

Creating characters and imaginative worlds is something I find very fulfilling and fun. Its very enjoyable to me to play around with shape language, and the unique expressions that you can get from animation, that you cant get from traditional film media. For these reasons I’m very interested in working with animation, and would like want to apply for TAW to expand my skills and eventually open up opportunities to work professionally with animation within the industry or independently. I have applied to the course 3 times before, but I'm not deterred from applying again.

Ive always enjoyed animated media, and never really ”grew out of it”. Drawing has always been something I greatly enjoyed doing. When I had trouble concentrating in school, I would always be doodling in my school papers instead. When asked what line of education I wanted to pursue, I wasn't sure, but I mentioned I liked drawing and was sendt to try out the animation course at Odense Fagskole. Here I tried out animation for the first time, and within a week of being in a creative environment and working seriously with art, I was hooked.

Later I attended the same course along with a 10th grade course at Odense Fagskole, and learned all the basics of animation, this year was very important to my development as an artist and person, and I look fondly back at it. Working with animation on a daily basis, was a really positive experience, it makes me want to seek out similar environments and possibilities of working creatively on a daily basis, other than as a hobby. I later took a 3 year HF course with special classes in Art, Design and Media, here I learned a lot about different creative media, and gathered a wide range of skills. I've also taken courses in film, and media design.

Last year I attended Mercantecs Digital media course, which included a 4 week drawing course in collaboration with The Drawing academy, and 2 weeks of computer graphics in collaboration with The Animation Workshop. These courses really expanded my drawing skills, and made me consider new ways and methods of working creatively.

I have taught animation at Odense Fagskoles børneskole for 3 years, where I taught children and young adult from the age 8 to 16 in the basics of animation. I was in charge of a new class every semester and taught 2 hours a week, and had to plan the lessons myself and help the students understand and finish the assignments, at the end of each semester the school would hold an open house, where my class presented their work, this included a show-reel of the students animations which I organised. Last year I substituted the daily animation class at Odense Fagskole everyday for a month, I taught aspiring animation students from the age 16 and up in basic animation and animation techniques. I had to collaborate with the regular teacher, as he had lessons planned, which I had to organise and execute, I also had to plan relevant lessons, to fit with their other classes.

For 5 years I attended amateur theater. Here we had to work as a team to set up a play once a year, we worked on acting techniques and improv workshops when not rehearsing a play. Before theater I was very introverted, but felt I have really grown through theater. Many of the skills learned here, I feel translate very well into animation. I have used the skills and lessons learned here to organise theater lessons and improv workshops myself. Id like to continue to work within theater, and I want to continue to run improv workshops, since I find acting and expression  in that way very fulfilling and a constant growing experience, and I want to keep sharing these experiences with others.

In the future I see myself continuing to work creatively, preferably with animation.  Creating, unique personal animated short stories, games or maybe even feature length movies is something I strive to do. I see myself working at a smaller studio, perhaps start one myself. I want to continue to bring imaginative worlds to life through animation, and develop new expressive media. I could see myself working at Cartoon Saloon, their incredible works have inspired and shaped my art, especially their amazing work with shapes and stylized line-work really speak to me. Working on animated features which such interesting art-styles, and explore the limits of abstract and creative art-styles in animated media would be something I would enjoy. I also want to continue to work with theater as a hobby, and use it to guide my creative work. I could also see myself continuing my teaching profession, perhaps also within animation. If I am not applied to the animation workshop, I have aspirations to apply for the teacher bachelor, I enjoy working in a class environment, and inspiring students and seeing them develop new skills.

Hopefully animated movies continue to thrive in the public media and art scene. A hand drawn 2D animation renaissance would be amazing. Although 3D CGI movies are great, I would love to see major animated movies have a wider range of styles and mediums and it would be really interesting to see major studios like Disney deviate from their style and experiment more. Disney movies are good, but very ”safe”. Other studios like Pixar are suffering from the same mentality by not deviating from their established style. I’d like to see more animated media targeting adults specifically, having interesting and deep stories and well developed characters, and not just crude jokes.

I have a wide range of software knowledge after my history of different digital courses.

Photoshop & Ilustrator- well acquainted

Flash - Well acquainted

Premiere & Aftereffects - Intermediate

Paint tool Sai - Expert

Maya – Basic knowladge

Aseprite - Well acquainted

What I enjoy most is watching animated media and playing video games. Some of my favorite work is Studio Ghibli’s Princess Mononoke and Nintendo’s The Legend of Zelda series. I like them for many of the same reasons. I would say that Princess Mononoke is the closest we get to an animated Zelda movie and the newest installment of The Legend of Zelda resembles a Ghibli movie in video game form. To me, there’s just something about the magical world painted in both, which takes place in our real world. Exploring the beauty of nature, in a world that invites for adventure, exploration and magical discoveries. The magical creatures seen in Princess Mononoke are somewhat relatable to real life creatures, but just has that extra push of surreal features, it almost feels like I could encounter similar creature, if I wandered too deeply off path in a forest. I am also a sucker for classical heroes Journey stories, and I feel Princess Mononoke and Zelda executes them very well.

I've grown up with the Legend of Zelda, and I feel a close bond to the series, and the way that it manages to explore different art-styles while maintaining the same sense of adventure and wonder, impresses me. I can only aspire to creative as iconic designs and concepts as appear in the Legend of Zelda.

Another favorite work of mine is Tove Janssons Moomin Troll. I grew up with the Moomin anime from the 90s, but have since fallen in love with Tove’s original comic strip and books! The Moomin universe delivers something I don’t find in similar childerens media. Perhaps because there’s something about the Moomin characters that I can deeply relate to, but also because of Tove’s ability to put deep emotions and themes in her work, like melanchony and poetry, despite its target audience being all ages. When people ask me what fictional world I would like to live in, I always answer Moomin Valley. During the colder seasons, I get the urge to rewatch and reread Moomin, like it’s part of my winter hibernation.

Tove Jansson is definitely one of my biggest inspirations, her unique ink work has inspired me so much and made me challenge myself to replicate her unique almost crude style. Another one of my favorites is the musician Tom Waits, his crooked music style with glorification of imperfection inspires me a lot. His musical The Black Rider is one of my favorite creative works and I dream of animating it someday! Tom Waits has also inspired one of my favorite band Kaizers Orchestra, who in turn have also inspired me. They have a special way of telling stories through their songs and by banging all sorts of items together they make metallic sounds. They have an unique stage presence which feels like a form of theater at times. Tyson Hesse is one of my favorite comic artists, ive been following his work since his early beginnings and his comics still capture me with his fun style. Shmorky is also an artist I look up to a lot, they mostly do cutesy drawings of small blobish characters, but their unique mix of cuteness and edge, really speaks to me. Some of my other favorite artists include Scottie Young, Emmy Cicierega, Niel Cicirega ,Ken Sugimori, Justin Chan, Rebecca Sugar, Temmie Chang, Jamie Hewlett and many more.

There's a few works that I just cannot relate to. Worst of all is Sausage party, Seth Rogan's adult animated movie. Its a shame that a lot of animated work targeted to adults, ends up being nothing more than a children movie with dick and fart humor, no real substance to them. I'm all for some dirty humor once in a while, but sausage party just is non stop stupid food puns and sexual innuendos, its story makes no sense, and none of the characters are likable. For some of the same reasons I hate sausage party I also dislike Family guy, and similar shows. Family guy to me is the worst kind of humor, its often offensive, and very sexist or problematic in other ways. Its animation is boring and stiff, and is streamlined down to a point where its so drained of creativity that its barely even ”animated” at all. I also dislike animated movies targeted for children, that just feel like a marketing ploy, and the movies usually don't have much more substance than some funny random jokes. The worst offender being Minions, and the despicable me movies. I don't think minions are interesting characters, and their gibberish language, makes them very unrelatable.

Traveling isn’t something I have done often, since I come from a fairly poor family, vacations abroad wasn’t a thing I had the luxury to grow up with. I have been to Lyon, France and Berlin, Germany during schooltrips. My trip to France was my first real experience outside of Denmark. In Berlin I had some interesting experiences with underground art, took a street-art tour throught the city and went to see the museum of bizarre objects! Such fun and inspriring experiences! During the holiday season, I visited my wonderfull girlfriend in The Netherlands for the first time. It was my first time travelling alone so it was all very exciting. I stayed for a month and saw a lot of the country. It’s fun to see a culture that’s so close to my own, yet so much more urban and international! I’m going back to The Netherlands in April and I plan to visit more often. Now that I know what it’s like, travelling is really fun and I would love to visit Japan and Australia someday.

I plan on financing the education with the danish SU system, and taking an SU loan.

I look very much forward to hearing back from you, Thank you very much for your time and consideration.

Best regards

Lasse Milling Madsen

Grønnegade 11. 1st th 8800 viborg

+45 28 21 17 56

c0ke964@hotmail.com

(coke as in cola but with a zero instead of an o)