so it goes back down again in the same forced motion

anonymous asked:

How do you write a fight scene without becoming repetitive? I feel like it just sounds like "she did this then this then this." Thanks so much!

I watch her as she fights. Her left leg flies through the air – a roundhouse – rolling into a spin. She misses, but I guess she’s supposed to. Her foot lands and launches her into a jump. Up she goes again, just as fast. The other leg pumps, high knee gaining altitude. The jumping leg tucks. Her body rolls midair, momentum carrying her sideways. She kicks. A tornado kick, they call it. The top of her foot slams into Rodrigo’s head, burying in his temple. Didn’t move back far enough, I guess.

His head, it snaps sideways like a ball knocked off a tee. Skull off the spine. His eyes roll back, and he slumps. Whole body limp. Legs just give out beneath him. He clatters to the sidewalk; wrist rolling off the curb.

She lands, making the full turn and spins back around. Her eyes are on his body. One foot on his chest. I don’t know if he’s alive. I don’t know if she cares. Nah, she’s looking over her shoulder. Looking at me.

The truth twists my gut. I should’ve started running a long time ago.

The first key to writing a good fight scene is to tell a story. The second key is having a grasp of combat rules and technique. The third is to describe what happens when someone gets hit. The fourth is to remember physics. Then, roll it all together. And remember: be entertaining.

If you find yourself in the “and then” trap, it’s because you don’t have a firm grasp of what exactly it is your writing. “He punched” then “She blocked” then “a kick” only gets you so far.

You’ve got to get a sense for shape and feeling, and a sense of motion. Take a page from the comic artist’s playbook and make a static image feel like it’s moving. Try to remember that violence is active. Unless your character is working with a very specific sort of soft style, they’re attacks are going to come with force. So, you’ve got to make your sentences feel like your hitting something or someone.

“Ahhh!” Mary yelled, and slammed her fist into the pine’s trunk. A sickening crack followed, then a whimper not long after.

Angie winced. “Feel better?”

Shaking out her hand, Mary bit her lip. Blood dripped from her knuckles, uninjured fingers gripping her wrist. She sniffed, loudly. “I…” she paused, “…no.”

“You break your hand?”

“I think so. Yeah.”

“Good,” Angie said. “Think twice next time before challenging a tree.”

Let your characters own their mistakes. If they hit something stupid in anger, like a wall or a tree then let them have consequences. Injury is part of combat. In the same way, “I should be running now” is. When the small consequences of physical activity invade the page, they bring reality with them.

People don’t just slug back and forth unless they don’t know how to fight, or their only exposure to combat is mostly movies or bloodsport like boxing. Either way, when one character hits another there are consequences. It doesn’t matter if they blocked it or even deflected it, some part of the force is going to be transitioned into them and some rebounds back at the person who attacked.

Your character is going to get hurt, and it’ll be painful. Whether that’s just a couple of bruises, a broken bone, or their life depends on how the fight goes.

However, this is fantasy. It is all happening inside our heads. Our characters are never in danger unless we say they are. They’ll never be hurt unless we allow it. A thousand ghost punches can be thrown and mean absolutely, utterly nothing at all to the state of the character. This is why it is all important to internalize the risks involved.

The writer is in charge of bringing a dose of reality into their fictional world. It is much easier to sell an idea which on some level mimics human behavior and human reactions. The ghost feels physical because we’ve seen it happen on television or relate to it happening to us when we get injured.

You’ve got five senses, use them. You know what it feels like to get injured. To be bruised. To fall down. To be out of breath. Use that.

Here’s something to take with you: when we fight, every technique brings us closer together. Unless it specifically knocks someone back. You need specific distances to be able to use certain techniques. There’s the kicking zone, the punching zone, and the grappling zone. It’s the order of operation, the inevitable fight progression. Eventually, two combatants will transition through all three zones and end up on the ground.

So, keep the zones in mind. If you go, “she punched, and then threw a roundhouse kick” that’s wrong unless you explain more. Why? Because if the character is close enough to throw a punch, then they’re too close to throw most kicks. The roundhouse will just slap a knee or a thigh against the other character’s ribs, and probably get caught. If you go, “she punched, rammed an uppercut into his stomach, and seized him by the back of the head”, then that’s right. You feel the fighters getting progressively closer together, which is how its supposed to work.

Use action verbs, and change them up. Rolled, rotated, spun, punched, kicked, slammed, rammed, jammed, whipped, cracked, etc.

You’ve got to sell it. You need to remember a human’s bodily limits, and place artificial ones. You need to keep track of injuries, every injury comes with a cost. Make sure they aren’t just trading blows forever.

I’ve seen advice that says fights all by themselves aren’t interesting. I challenge that assertion. If you’re good at writing action, then the sequence itself is compelling. You know when you are because it feels real. Your reader will tune out if it isn’t connecting, and the fight scene is a make or break for selling your fantasy. It is difficult to write or create engaging, well choreographed violence that a reader can easily follow and imagine happening.

-Michi

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Good Girl

Anonymous said:
Can you write a daddy kink one with Calum or Michael with a lot of teasing and spanking and overstimulation and being called Kitten and Princess omg pls that would be some lit quality shit

fuck ya girly i gotchu 

~

Pillows surrounded us as the movie played softly in the background. His finger tips ran along my spin coming up to play with the ends of my hair. “How was class today, princess?” Calum whispered. “It wasn’t the best, but you’re here and that’s all that matters.” I smiled. Calum took my chin in-between his fingers, looking at my lips, then right back at me.

“Mm, you look so fucking good right now,” Calum bites his lip. I rolled my eyes smiling, when his hand comes down to my hips squeezing it. “Don’t roll you eyes at me again, kitten.” His eyes stared me down. “Yes, daddy,” I nodded, leaning into his touch. “C’mon princess, I have a surprise for you.” Calum said. “Oh, but I don’t wanna move.” I pouted.

Calum raised an eyebrow, “You’ll want to move when you see what you have in store with the way your acting.” I sat up quickly, following him up the stairs and into our bedroom. Calum and I have never really tried kinks, but we’ve talked about them. Anytime things become intimate, they are not rough, I could tell it was love, not something meaningless, nevertheless Cal would ever treat me like that. “Tonight, we’re trying something different kitten.” He said while grabbing my hips. I nodded, and sat on the bed.

He went to the closet, pulling out a box from the top shelf, and set it on the side table. He pulled out a blindfold, a few ties, and left the room again. I knew not to get up and follow him because if I did, that would not make Calum happy. He came back with a cup of ice, no water, just ice. “Um, why do you have ice?” I questioned. “Don’t speak unless I give you permission, princess.” Calum said.

Calum walked over to me, removed my shirt while kissing my neck “Now, you know I barley punish you nor do I like too, but that’s going to change kitten,” Calum said. “Calum, what-” I was cut off by being flipped around. “I’m sorry, what did I say?” Calum said. “Not to speak unless you give me permission.” I answered. “That’s right, princess, and what did you do?” He asked. “I spoke without permission.” I could tell he was pleased by this.

“Good girl, but, you still defied the rules, you know what that means right?” I nodded as he spoke. “Now, lay across my thighs,” He motioned. I whined quietly, knowing that this night was not going to be anything like I thought. “I want you to count okay, baby girl?” Calum said. I nodded, as I suck in a breath preparing for whatever was going to happen.

Calum landed a slap upon my right cheek, a whimper falling from my lips as I let myself clutch onto Calum’s leg, my body immediately relaxing into the sensation that is going to be driving me up the wall soon. “One,” I whispered, barley enough for him to hear. Another slap on my left cheek, making my nails dig into the rough material of Calum’s jeans. “Two,” I whimpered. “Good girl,” Calum whispered kissing my spine. The slaps continued until tears filled my vision, “Ten,” I sniffed.

Calum let me sit up, as he wiped my tears away, “See it wasn’t so bad now was it, princess?” He cooed. “No, daddy.” I said. “Good, lay back,” Calum instructed. I laid back, letting the cool sheeting sooth my red bum. “Hands up, we are not quite done yet,” Calum said while taking my hands and tied them together to the head board.

Calum only ever tied me up once, and god did I love it. I bit my lip in anticipation, waiting for whatever was next to happen. “To make things interesting, I’m going to blindfold you okay, kitten?” Calum said, grabbing the purple fabric from before. My eyes were covered, seeing nothing, I mean what did you expect? His fingertips slid down my body making goosebumps arise to my skin.

“God, you’re going to be the death of me,” Calum breathed, kissing every part of my skin. I felt something cold being dragged down my skin and rested on my stomach. His lips touched mine for a passionate kiss as his hand snaked down in-between my legs. At the first flick of my clit, I cried out into Calum’s mouth, my hips grinding into his hand. He slipped a finger into me, pumping slowly. The pace of his finger was driving me mad, making me squirm underneath him.

“Stay still, princess,” Calum ordered. It was one of Calum’s rules; I couldn’t move or he’d stop touching me, even if it was during one of my treats. I tried my hardest not to move, but I accidentally bucked into his hand when he pressed against my g-spot. He immediately took his hand away from me, sucking  his finger between his lips.

I could tell Calum was smirking by the way he kept pacing around the bed. “Wanna tell daddy what you want, baby girl?” Calum said. “I want your tongue, I want your cock, fuck daddy I want it all,” I was not ashamed. “Such a dirty mouth for a pretty little girl,” Calum chuckled. “You want my tongue huh, kitten?” Calum daunted, removing the blindfold. I nodded, blinking trying to adjust to the light.

I felt his lip wrap around my clit, lightly flicking it a few times. I inhaled deeply only to exhale with a moan as he continued his actions. He released me from his mouth, looking me right in the eyes as he entered his finger in, again. A long whimper came out of my mouth as Calum moved his fingers again. “God, you look so fucking sexy withering under my fingers,” He smirked placing his lips on my clit again. He pushed another finger in, making my orgasm come into play. “Daddy, please can I cum?” I moaned.

“Go ahead princess, be as loud as you want,” Calum mumbled. “Look at me,” he orders. Already used to taking orders from Calum, I immediately look at him. “Mm, daddy,” I whimpered. My legs shook around Calum as he held them open, making me ten times for sensitive. “Fuck, you taste so good,” Calum moaned. My chest rose and fell as I caught my breath, but I sucked in another breath when Calum rubbed his tip against my entrance.

“You want it, baby? Tell daddy how much you want it,” Calum said. “Daddy please, fuck me I want your cock, please.” I begged. He grinned slamming into me. My wrists pulled at the restraints, sure to give me some type of burn. Calum held my hips as he fucked me into oblivion “Princess, I can tell you’re ready to cum any minute,” Calum moaned. “Daddy, I am,” I said.

“Oh Caluum, yes daddy fuuuuck” I yelled, unable to control my body anymore, my gaze on his as he watched my face contract at the same time my walls did around his cock. When I finally came down, breathing heavily, I found myself more tired than I’ve probably ever been after such an experience. Forcing my body not to move and having to absorb pure pleasure was actually much more exhausting than I’d have thought. Calum must’ve noticed too as he gently stroked my cheek, before kissing his way down my stomach, then back up again to my ear. “I’m impressed, you’ve done so good baby girl” he whispered, “but we are not over.”

I shook my head, not able to take anymore pleasure. “Kitten, if daddy says more, you know what it means,” Calum smirked. “Daddy, I-i can’t,” I couldn’t even talk. “Yes you can, and you will baby,” Calum said. I saw Calum pull out the white toy, which intimidated me more than it should have. “You remember this one princess?” Calum said showing me the toy, “I know this is your favorite, so tonight, we’re going to play with it.”

“Daddy, please don’t I can’t handle it.” I whined. “Sounds like you wanna make the rules, is that how it goes princess?” He asked. “Sorry, daddy,” I said. Calum turned on the vibrator to a low setting and dragged it all over my body, making me shiver. “Baby girl, this is suppose to relax you, not tense you up.” Calum chuckled, feeling my reaction.

My legs immediately closed around the vibrator when Calum set it on my clit. “Keep ‘em open for my princess,” Calum pushed my thighs apart. My back arched off the bed as my orgasm hit me like a bucket of bricks. “There you go baby, just like that.” Calum cooed. My body caved in, my feet dragged on the bed while Calum put the vibrator on a higher speed.

“Oh daddy!” I yelled, my whole body shook in euphoria as I came around the toy. “That’s my good girl, cum for daddy.” Calum groaned. My toes dragged against the bed, as I came around the vibrator and profanities left my mouth. “Daddy, daddy fuck,” I moaned. Calum took the vibrator off only to lick my clit again. I was already in a state of sensitivity.

“God, you’ve done so well kitten,” Calum said, beginning to untie my hands. “But now, I want you to suck me off like the good girl I know you are,” He growled. I was already out of energy when Calum pulled me up. I stared in awe at Calum’s cock, probably drooling. “Stop staring princess,” Calum chuckled. I bit my lip, taking his cock in my hand, slowly pumping it.

Calum groaned, “C’mon princess, you know I don’t like waiting.” I smiled up at him, kissing the tip. With my tongue broad and flat, I licked the whole length of him, making eye contact. I alternated between sucking, swirling my tongue one way and then another, and flicking it lightly. I wrapped one hand around the base of his shaft, and move it up and down in time with the movements of my mouth. I ran my nails on the inside of his thighs, making Calum whimper. “Fuck princess.” He grabbed my hair.

“Princess, s-stop I wanna cum in that pretty little pussy of yours.” Calum groaned, unable to hold his moans in. I took him out of my mouth, “Daddy, I have a question.” I trailed. “What is it, baby girl?” Calum asked. “Can I ride you, daddy?” I asked shyly. “You wanna ride daddy? Well, I suppose that’s fine.” He chuckled. Calum laid on the bed, cock in hand as I walked over to him.

He cupped my breasts in his hands, groping and tugging roughly. “Yes, daddy,” I moan, burying my face into the crook of his neck. “Oh, God, yes.” “You going to cum for me, baby girl?” “Mmmhmm.” “Come on, baby, cum for me.” My orgasm rockets through my body, sending me into a state of frenzy. Moans and curse words slip out of my mouth. I continue to rock my hips against Calum as I come down from my high, milking my orgasm for as long as possible.  “There you go, baby.” Calum coos.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Calum moaned, his hands moving to my hips. “Cum for me daddy,” I bit his neck, making sure to leave my mark. I felt Calum release inside of me, making me fall on top of him. “God, that was-” “Amazing.” I finished for him. “I love you, princess,” Calum kissed my forehead. “I love you too, daddy.” I said.

damn the delivery boy.

Pairing: Jeon Jeongguk / Reader.

Genre: Expecting Parents AU / Fluff and Non-explicit smut.

Summary: Jeon Jeongguk is a computer science major working as a pizza delivery boy, and you are an uninspired published author who has just started an art degree. When you realise that the delivery boy is your old high school crush, he keeps coming back, but with more to offer than just puff pastry and vegetarian supreme. Though little did he know that he would end up giving you something much more that flips both of your worlds completely upside down in the form of two blue lines and nine months.

Count: 9,656 words.


month one.

Two lines.

The second is a little faint, but it is there, undeniably there, growing stronger by the second as your heart sinks deeper into the pit of your stomach and suddenly you are keeling over the sink, throwing up a combination of panic and regret. You wipe your mouth, sit back on the closed lid of the toilet, shut your eyes and take a deep breath, holding it until your lungs burn and your lashes fly back apart to look at the test still shaking between your fingertips.

There, right before your eyes, two fucking blue lines protruding like two middle fingers, poking up at you and saying – Congratulations sucker, you are pregnant!

Twenty-three years old and pregnant.

You throw up again.

This has got to be the biggest mistake of your life.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

AU where Bitty and Jack both suddenly wake up, after having had a few years together, and find themselves in their beds on the morning of the day they met. Both remember everything that happened, but neither thinks the other does, so they both pretend not to remember (which only complicates things more). They end up reenacting a lot of their interactions and it kills them both to do things they know hurt the other but they don't want to change anything.

oh no buddy, I’m not gonna let this stay sad. I’m gonna draw attention to several sad things, but then I’m gonna fix it.

******************

Bitty wakes up on his first day of freshman year. Again. He quickly decides that he can’t say anything to anyone. There was no way to prove that the life he had just been living was anything but a dream.

He goes through the motions as well as he can remember. If he lingers a little on the handshake when he ‘meets’ Jack again, well, who could notice a thing like that?

Jack wakes up in the Haus. He mirrors Bitty’s mental process, realizing that if he started talking about this he could lose the future he knows is on its way. He searches Bittle’s face for recognition, but is too afraid to say anything.

Jack takes a deep breath every day and snaps at Bittle, pushing every pet name out of his mind. Bitty forces himself to forget and relearn how to take a check. On the rink together for checking practice, neither can think of any way to ask if they’re going through the same thing. They both cry more than they did the first time around.

Sometimes Bitty just gets angry at having to repeat things. He tries as hard as he can to not mess the repetitions up, but he isn’t perfect. When Ransom and Holster start asking him what his type is, he rolls his eyes and replies “Men.” As soon as he’s said it he remembers that he had only said that later to his camera, but the damage doesn’t seem to be too great. Jack doesn’t seem to react to the change, adding to his mental list of evidence that everything else had just been a dream. He gets the list of eligible Winter Screw options a few days earlier, but everything settles back to what it had been within a week. Whenever he starts thinking about the next few years, he’s enraged about everything he’s going to have to sit back and let happen. Everything that was going to make Jack sad, and that he wouldn’t be able to fix. Everything that was going to hurt him that he couldn’t avoid. 

Jack wakes up every day and writes up a game plan. It’s hard to have to turn back years of learning and be worse as a captain, especially when he remembers every mistake he made in every lost game. So he writes down those mistakes as a reminder to himself to make them. Half of the mistakes are emotional, and that’s what really gets him. He’s forced to act like those years of growing as a person never happened, like they were worthless. He hates trying to make himself glare at Bittle when they’re on the same line, he hates telling him that it was a lucky shot, he hates being so close to his boyfriend except for the fact that he isn’t his boyfriend yet.

Then it’s the playoffs. Bitty steels himself all week for the concussion he knows is coming. It crosses his mind to try to avoid it, to spare himself the pain and potential brain damage. But he remembers that it was only after the concussion that Jack started texting him, and they really got close. He knows that if he went against the play he knew Jack was going to suggest, he’d only drive them apart. Besides, it hadn’t been that bad the first time.

Jack is confident he can find another reason to text Bittle over the summer. He’s thought about this for the whole school year. Whatever consequences could come from not seeing Bitty hurt like that would be worth it. He just has to convince the coaches to not put Bitty in at the wrong time. 

“Oh my god, I thought we got over this months ago,” Bitty mutters to himself. He doesn’t remember Jack getting so annoyed about playing with him during this game, but he’s at a point where everything has run together in his mind. 

“Jack, I’ll be fine,” he half-lies. He will, eventually. There’s something close to panic in Jack’s eyes. Weird, Jack had taken so long the first time around to show any tiny sign of weakness.

“Promise me you’ll avoid number three.” This is definitely different from before. Bitty stares at Jack. “Spencer, number three, don’t go near him when he’s on their side of the rink. Promise me, Bits.”

“You didn’t even call me Bitty at this point,” he says in shock. They stare at each other for a minute, eyes wide. 

“I won’t get the concussion this time and we’ll talk about this after the game,” Bitty blurts out. Jack nods vigorously. They play, and it’s brutal, but Bitty avoids the hip check. Once the game is over, they rush to get seats together in the bus. In whispers, they talk about the future they already had. Bitty mourned the years of school he had ahead of him that he had already completed. Jack complained about having to rewalk a long path to the Stanley Cup. They talked about teammates who felt like family but would still know them as strangers. Graduation, the Fourth of July they spent in Madison, their first Christmas together. Every important milestone of their relationship.

“And in this loop or timeline or whatever, we haven’t even kissed!” Bitty whispers, letting his head thunk back against the headrest. “I was at the point where I was out of college, happy with my career, and hiding a ring from you!”

“You weren’t!” Jack says out loud before dropping back into a whisper. “I was doing the same thing.” They both start laughing. It’s the perfect time to have a second first kiss. They lean in towards each other, their lips meet, and–

–They’re back in their apartment. Bitty sits bolt upright in their bed and turns to Jack. For a fleeting second, he thinks about pretending the last several months just didn’t happen. Jack sits up too, and their eyes meet.

“Did that just–”

“Your frog year take two–” They dissolve into relieved laughter.

“I thought I was going to have to take calc again!”

“I thought I was going to have to listen to you complain about calc again,” Jack says before Bitty smacks him with a pillow. “Kidding! Kind of! Wait, weren’t we just saying that we wanted to propose to each other?” He throws himself out of bed and runs to start rummaging through various coat pockets.

“Oh no, you’re not going to propose to me before I can propose to you!” 

Everything is as it should be once more.

Angel in the Darkness pt.5

Originally posted by aestheticvbts

Summary: After a patient urgently pleads you to go and help a friend of his, you naively agree to it. Little did you know, that you would get more than what you agreed to, when he leads you to a brothel, to help a dangerous prostitute named Jeon Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (ft. Jin, but not romantically)

Genre: Smut (M), angst, mafia!au, prostitution!au

A/N:This is a dark and filthy story! Graphic descriptions of sex (masturbating, etc), heavy dom/sub undertones, drug use, vulgar language use……(alot of smut comes in later) This is a mature read! You have been warned!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 



The bright sunlight behind the curtains, stirs you awake from your deep sleep. There’s a faint smile stretched upon your lips, as you feel as if you’ve had one of the best naps in the longest of times. Your eyes are still closed shut as you try to flex your stiff muscles; only you can’t.

As soon as you tried to lift your arms, you hit something very hard and muscular. Huh? That’s weird. You can also feel that your legs are entangled, and something wrapped around your waist.

You didn’t mind the feeling, as you were still too tired to process things, and because it brought great warmth, but then you heard it; a faint grunt. Your eyes instantly shoot open, and you blush hard when you realize you’re wrapped up into Jungkook.

His face is mere centimeters away from yours, and his eyes are still closed shut, indicating he’s still asleep. You can feel his hot breath, gently tickling your red face, as his hair is all over. You peer downwards and see that his left arm is securely wrapped around your waist, as both of you were laying down on your sides. His long, thick legs were clumsily tangled with yours, and you were finding it hard to breathe since you were so close to him.

OH MY GOD! WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT?!?!

Keep reading

Patater Week - Day 6

Feb. 11 - Cuddling/Snuggling – Marty finds Alexei shopping for condoms at 1 AM with Kent. It kind of goes from there, 1.2K

“For water balloons,” Tater says dumbly, looking like he wants to put the pack of Magnums back but can’t because he’s lost all motion in his arm. “Prank on Poots.”

“Hm. Alright,” Marty says, still holding the Little Colds Multi-symptom Cold Formula meant for his son, who’d started sniffling at 8 PM and have not stopped since. “Why not just use real balloons?” he asks, pointing at the balloon packs hanging not far behind Tater.

Tater seems to be strangled by an unseen force. “Penis is more funny,” he says very slowly, then he visibly winces, like he wants to pitch himself into a ditch.

(Marty’s no fool. Everyone on the team knows that Tater has a boyfriend whom he has yet to refer to by name, which is peculiar especially when the latter refuses to shut up about him. At this point, between the two of them, Marty and Thirdy can probably recite the Boyfriend’s failed recipe for chicken salad by heart and how exactly he managed to conduct a mini-explosion in Tater’s kitchen. He just hadn’t expected the nameless significant other to be visiting Providence this week, or that he’d catch Tater buying…supplies.) 

Keep reading

mr. sandman

[steve trevor x reader]

author’s note: most of the time when i write, i don’t plan for things to get that long but i always get carried away wtf. this happens with essays too i don’t understand. anyway, i think i kind of like this one, which is unusual for me to say of my stuff lol, but i do hope you enjoy

word count: 2,037

Keep reading

Worth the Wait (M)

Chae Hyungwon | Friends!AU | Smut | Word Count: 3k

Anon: Hyungwon rough smut pls. Theres no reason just him being horny & needy & feel like having a rough sex hehe tq!! ♥️ 

The attraction has always been there. 

He always looks at you for way too long, eyes always roaming over your body when he thinks you aren’t looking. When you speak you have his undivided attention, eyes staring intently at the way your lips curve around every word that leaves your mouth. 

Hyungwon knows all of your quirks and habits. The way you bite your lower lip when you concentrate, the way your leg bounces or how you tap your fingers when you’re nervous or anxious. Everyone knows Hyungwon isn’t the most observant guy around, always in his own little world or sleep, but everyone sees how he perks up around you. 

You noticed it a while ago.

Whether he was just physically attracted to you, you don’t know and you don’t care. You just know you enjoy the feeling of his eyes boring into various parts of your body. You find humor in the lingering hugs he gives you, hands slowly dragging off of your body when you pull away. You enjoy the not so secret looks when the squad is together. 

He’s very flirtatious, and you either laugh at his attempts or play along.

Hyungwon doesn’t appreciate your laughter when he’s being serious about you. Especially not tonight. 

You’re drinking, and you’re in such a good mood it made you a buzzed, giggling mess. Everything is funny to you and you hadn’t even had much to drink. 

“When are you gonna stop playing?” he asks, plump lips brushing the back of your ear as he whispers his question. His chest leans against your shoulder as he bends down to your height, body heat already radiating through the cotton of your shirt.

“When are you gonna stop trying?” you tease, turning your head to look at him. 

The proximity of your faces makes the smile that was already playing on your mouth stretch, amused by the way he licks his lips at the fact your own are so close. 

“If you wanted me to stop you wouldn’t entertain me,” he states matter-of-factly. 

With a chuckle, you turn around to completely face him, looking up at him with a shake of your head.

“But that doesn’t mean I want you,” you taunt, hands sliding their way up his arms to his shoulder, completely contradicting your words. His eyebrow twitches before a grin of his own plays on his lips. 

“You might as well just let me take you home for the night, ____. You’ve been there plenty of times already.”

“I’ve been to your house when you didn’t have the intentions of fucking me, so that’s different.” 

You catch the playful glint in his eyes as he rubs his lips together.

“Actually, every time you come around I have the intention to fuck you. On every surface and corner of my house,” he admits with no shame, his hands reaching out to get nice handfuls of your ass. The action makes your eyes widen in surprise before they squint in mock annoyance. “Especially in front of the mirror.” 

You know exactly which mirror he’s referring to. It takes up half of one of his bedroom walls, directly in front of his bed and whenever you’re at his place you use it to take pictures or do your makeup when the rest of the group wants to pregame before going out. 

“You’re awfully bold tonight,” you sigh, turning back around and making his hands drop from your ass. “I just wanted to enjoy a few drinks and you’re over here telling me about fantasies that will never become reality,” you laugh, grabbing your drink off of the bar and chugging it down.

“You’re awfully harsh tonight,” Hyungwon counters, not falling for your act.

 Hyungwon knows he tempts you. He knows his words affect you exactly the way he wants. The chase to get you is no doubt fun for the both of you. You get the satisfaction of having him always shower you in compliments and boosting your ego. For him, the wait makes him yearn for you even more and makes him want to do so much more to your body each time you brush him off. 

 Leaning into you again, Hyungwon gingerly drags his pillow-like lips up the side of your neck before pulling on your earlobe softly. “Just be mine already.” 

His breath makes you want to shiver, but you force your body to suppress the feeling. 

“If you can look me in my eyes and tell me you don’t want this then I’ll leave you alone, really.” 

The way his tone switches from arrogant to serious, voice dropping a few octaves, makes your stomach flip. You want him almost as much as he wants you, and maybe it’s the drinks that you downed, but you’re really considering finally giving into him. 

Fuck it.

You turn around, straightening your face. The look in his eyes shows that he’s ready for rejection, but when you reach up to get a hold of the back of his neck you see a brief smile before your lips crash into his. 

There’s a blur of finding Hyunwoo and Kihyun to tell them the two of you are leaving, their eyes drifting down to where yours and Hyungwon’s hands are clasped together before asking how much you’ve had to drink with smirks on their faces. The car ride consists of Hyungwon speeding and you mulling over the fact you really gave into your desires after waiting so long. You might regret it in the morning, but month after month of Hyungwon’s fleeting touches and words of how much he wants you have built up and you can’t resist him anymore.


“Can’t believe you made me wait this long,” is growled into your neck, slim, long fingers quickly unzipping your skirt before pushing it down. You hum at his words, kicking the skirt to the side. The vibration of his complaint has your eyes drifting shut as you tilt your head further to the side. “I’ve been trying to fuck you for over a year now.“ 

You hadn’t even made it up the stairs before Hyungwon was pressing into your back once again, eager to touch you now that you’ve finally given him permission to do so. 

“Then make it worth the wait,” you breathe out, ready for him to prove to you that losing your internal fight of resisting him was worth it. He’s barely done anything yet, lips only softly trailing from your shoulder up to your neck, but your skin is already heating up and your breathing is heavier. 

In the blink of an eye Hyungwon turns you around and picks you up. You squeal at the sudden change before laughing, wrapping your legs around his waist cupping your hand around the back of his neck. The other rakes through his hair, pushing his bangs back and messing up his blond locks in the most perfect way. 

“Wow I didn’t think your little noodle arms were capable of doing this,” you comment, impressed. He stops his dead in his tracks in the middle of the stairway to glare at you. 

“Keep it up and I’ll drop you right here,” he deadpans before continuing his journey to his room.

The pout you give him is exaggerated, followed by yet another giggle at your next thought. 

“In your fantasies, did you fuck me on the stairs, too?”

Hyungwon doesn’t bother to answer you, instead flopping you down onto the foot of his bed. He reaches for the back of the collar of his shirt before roughly ripping the cotton off of his body. The streetlight near his window casts shadows on his skin and you can’t help the way your eyes follow the outlines of his toned abdomen. You can feel the heat of his gaze, watching you as you watch the way his fingers fumble with his belt. When he pulls it off your bottom lip is sandwiched in between your teeth and there’s yet another stir in your stomach.

“Come here.”

At the sound of his voice ripping through your thoughts, low and gravelly, your body instantly reacts. Your ass scoots to the very edge of the bed and your fingers are grabbing at the waistband of his pants, prying the button and zipper open. Pulling both his jeans and boxers down mid-thigh, Hyungwon’s excitement hangs half hard oh so close to your face, you look up at him in question.

He’s already staring down at you with dark, hooded eyes that are almost covered by his bangs, sending a spark throughout your body that goes straight to your clit. All he does is tilt his head and you know what you are to do next.

Bringing your hand up to your mouth, you spit into it before it wraps around the base of his dick. You keep your eyes focused on his own as you begin moving your hand up and down, feeling his cock harden under your touch. He licks his lips, raking his hair back before the same hand is gripping the top of your head and pulling your face close to his cock, silently commanding you to get to it.

The fingers already in your hair get tangled once you take half of him into your mouth, giving him a long suck, cheeks hollowing. You hear his breath leave his body in a huff when your tongue traces the vein at the underside of his shaft.

“Don’t start,” Hyungwon warns you just as you flick the end of your tongue over his tip, making sure to dig into the slit. Going back to pumping with your hand, you back up your head to look up at him. “Start what?” you question, wanting to get under his skin.

You don’t really give him enough time to answer, taking him back into your mouth and bobbing your head up and down as your lips and tongue drag back and forth around his stiff cock, hand following the motions. There’s a barely concealed groan above you, and then the hand in your hair pushes you further down onto his dick, the tip jabbing into the back of your throat and making you gag at the suddenness.

With a gasp, you rest your hand on his thighs and pull away once again to glare up at him. “You’re such an asshole,” you cough out.

A mumbled whatever is your response, Hyungwon pushing you right back down and your mouth instinctively opens up wide to take him in. He’s an asshole, but you’ve been wanting to choke on his dick for the longest.

The grip on the top of your head switches to the back and Hyungwon holds your head in place. He doesn’t bother to ease you in, instantly thrusting into your mouth harshly and slipping down your throat repeatedly.

His grunts and his rough actions make you moan, your panties soaked and clinging to your folds as you rub your thighs together for even the smallest amount of friction. Your nails dig into the meat of his thighs, eyes squeezed shut as you enjoy the brutality. You can feel the spit pooling at the sides of your stretched mouth and the sting of tears behind your shut eyelids, and you love it.

“I swear,” Hyungwon starts, slowing his pace but only to increase the impact of his thrust. Your fingers grasp at his legs even harder and your jaw is slackening all the way while a long moan resonates in the big space of his room at the feeling. “You won’t be able to walk or talk correctly when you leave tomorrow.”

You open your watery eyes, taking in the veins that are bulging out Hyungwon’s forearm on the arm that’s keeping you in place. You take in the rise and fall of his chest, eyesight dipping down to catch the motion of his hips as his pelvic bone brushes against your lip each time he thrusts forward. Humming, you hum to let him know you understand. Hyungwon is going to take out all of the frustration you’ve caused on you tonight with no remorse, and you’re ready for it.

All of the air in your body rushes out in small coughs after he removes his dick from your mouth, jerking himself off slowly as he stares down at your struggle in satisfaction. 

“Strip.”

You glower at him before following his instruction, quickly tossing your shirt on the floor and getting rid of your bra and panties as he finishes taking off his jeans. 

When he grabs your wrist, Hyungwon lifts you up and brings you to the side of his bed before turning you around and pushing you forward, making you bend and land on his soft duvet on your stomach. He nudges your dangling legs apart, two long fingers wasting no time to slide two fingers along your slit and then into your entrance.Two turns into three and you’re practically fucking yourself on his digits as he speeds up the pace of his pumping, quiet pleas for him to hurry things up tumbling out of your mouth.

“Look to your right,” he rasps out, pulling his fingers out of your dripping core. Hyungwon steps away and then a dim light from his nightstand is cut on before he’s behind you again. When you follow his instructions once again, you catch the sight of the two of you in the infamous mirror. You catch his eye in the mirror, him biting his lip as he strokes his cock once more at the sight. Opening your legs for him, you arch your back a little to stick your ass further in the air, wanting him to hurry up and fuck you into oblivion like his actions and words have promised.

“Keep them closed for me, baby.”

Seconds after pressing your thighs together you see and feel him line himself up at your entrance. You let out a sigh once the head of his cock pushes in, but when he thrusts the rest in harshly and quickly you’re gasping for air and clenching your fist, balling up the silk covers underneath you. 

“A fucking year,” he grunts out when he bottoms out. Smooth hands slide up the back of your thighs before roughly grabbing onto your ass, fingers and nails digging into the flesh. Your inner walls clench at the feeling, Hyungwon softly groaning at the feeling. “God you feel so good.”

“Come on,” you whine, wiggling your ass to prompt him to move.

Keeping his hold on the meat of your cheeks, he slowly drags his cock out all the way. Not even a second later he’s thrusting back into you roughly, knocking the breath out of you and making your eyes go wide. He continues this, breathing heavily each time he’s completely inside of you. 

“I don’t know if I want to take my time with you or fuck you senseless,” he chuckles, voice just barely strained.

“Fuck me senseless,” you pant out immediately. You want him to fuck you so hard you have to stay in his bed due to your legs feeling like jello and your pussy being too sore. You want Kihyun to possibly walk back into their shared house and hear everything that’s going on in Hyungwon’s room. You need more.

He listens, the speed of his hips quickening and the force behind his thrusts increasing. You push your upper body up by your forearms and let your head hang forward, the moans spilling out of you only rising in volume as he gives you exactly what you wanted. 

The sound of his hip bones ramming into your ass and the wet squelching of his dick repeatedly burying into your dripping core echoes throughout the room. His balls slap against your folds, no doubt getting wet as well. 

One of his hands leaves your ass in favor of moving to your hair. Wrapping your locks around his fingers, he jerks your head to the right, the pull making your scalp scream in the most delicious way. 

“I told you to look.”

Both of you are adorned in thin layers of sweat. Your hooded eyes stare back at you and you can barely recognize yourself. Neck outstretched, mouth hanging open as high pitched moans bubble out of your throat, and even in the shitty light, you can see how flushed your body is. Seeing the way your ass jiggles with each thrust, the way his prominent hip bones connect and disconnect from the bouncing flesh just arouses you even more and you’re not going to last much longer.

“Mm you look so good like this,” Hyungwon coos. “Nice and fucked out. Gonna come soon?”

You nod, trying your hardest to meet his eyes in the reflection. But when his hands are lifting your hips up a scream rips from your throat, eyes rolling back and jaw slackening even more at the feeling of his tip jabbing at that one glorious spot within you. Somehow his thrusts manage to gain even more power and there’s already a burning ache in your core. You bury your face into his comforter, screams muffled as your walls flutter around his cock, having the best orgasm you’ve ever experienced. 

Hyungwon’s rhythm gets sloppy, his body bending over yours while he chases his own orgasm. The continuous assault on your sensitive pussy has your eyes squeezing shut, spots of white showing behind your eyelids.

With one last thrust he bottoms out, hips pressing into your bottom harshly as ropes of cum spill inside of you. You’re both out of breath and motionless for a while.

“You probably have the best pussy I’ve ever fucked.”

You chuckle at his random outburst, turning your head so that your cheek is pressed into his bed, looking at your reflection once again.

“Probably?”

He shrugs, slowly pulling out with his bottom lip in between his teeth. Your hole clenches around air, greedy for more even though it’s completely done for, sore and aching in the best way. Hyungwon flips you around, spreading your legs for him to settle in between.

“I’d have to taste you to be completely sure.”


A/N: I honestly can’t talk dirty for the life of me so this isn’t exactly how I pictured writing rough sex but uh, hope you enjoy lmaoo

alphaandhismate  asked:

Hey Rachel got a question for ya. Do you think Stiles would feel inadequate compared to all the buff sexy werewolves and push himself​ to the breaking point trying to look like he belongs? Cause I have this headcanon where he decides to work out to make himself look like he belongs beside the wolves but it doesn't work out to well and he winds up doing more harm than good. Which upsets Derek when he finds out (because he loves the idiot but he won't admit it)

Aw I can absolutely see this. Stiles, already prone to insecurity and the feeling of not being good enough, slowly being worn down by that itching knowledge in his skull of being that he’s not as strong as any of his friends, not as attractive as any of his friends, and sure as hell not as useful as any of them, right? Sure, he’s smart. He knows that. But what the hell use is that in battle? He can’t dive in front of a bullet to keep the others from hurting, can’t stand beside the others and fight at anything close to their level.

And no matter how much he smirks at enemies’ jibes and plays off as enjoying being the group’s token human (”means I get to leave all the heavy lifting to you guys, right?”) it’s a feeling that would keep building up over time, pushing at the back of his skull every time the pack insists he be left behind on a certain mission, that he should stay where he’s safe, or gets offhandedly told he’ll just slow the others down. Every time they go running out in the preserve and he gets to sit behind and watch the car. Every time he goes out with the group and finds himself wondering what he looks like in everyone else’s eyes: this circle of beautiful beyond belief, supernaturally perfect people and then… him.

He couldn’t share his worries with the others –– Scott would get that worried look in his eyes and insist Stiles is perfect the way he is. Lydia might not share the same speed and strength as the others but she’s always been supernaturally beautiful, and she’s got her own banshee tricks to help out in a fight. So he keeps it inside, bottles it up… and he starts to push himself. Stays after school lifting weights until his limbs are wrecked from it, goes out running until his legs are shaking under him. Thinking one more lift, one more mile, one step closer to belonging.

And it starts working, too. He’s able to keep up with the pack sometimes, on their more casual runs. He’s gaining muscle, losing any last hints of baby fat. But there are hollowed shadows under his eyes too and he’s not eating enough, probably, but that’s fine. It’s fine when he wrestles with Liam and ends up with a purpled bruise blooming out across his ribs from a too-hard tackle. It’s fine that he can’t really sleep anymore because his muscles are always burning. It’s fine because he’s started looking at pictures of the group after pack events and almost seeing a group of people who fit together, not a handful of perfect people around a lanky, awkward him. Who the hell wouldn’t sacrifice a little comfort and the ability to lift his arms above his head for that?

.-

Derek’s the one who notices first, because of course he is. Drops in through the bedroom window one night like the supernatural stalking creeper he used to be, and finds Stiles collapsed to an exhausted heap against the side of his bed. Too tired and too sore to have stripped off his sweat-stained shirt or make it the extra step to lay down on it. He forces a smile when he spots Derek, but it’s more pained than it should be. Wavers at the edges. Derek ignores his opening jibe, doesn’t comment on the way Stiles tries to push himself up on unsteady palms and falters, a spasm of motion that starts and dies just as fast. Just moves silent, sits down next to him on the floor at the foot of the bed. There’s a world of words in his silence, a disapproving air Stiles can feel deep in his bones, and he finds himself saying “I’m fine,” low and head ducked, like it’s a lie.

It’s not a lie. But it’s not exactly true either, is it?

Derek’s eyes are on Stiles’ face now, flicking down his damp shirt, over his faintly trembling limbs, and it’s like he’s seeing too much suddenly, seeing through walls Stiles is too tired to pull up. People aren’t supposed to see him at this point in the day; they’re supposed to see him in the morning when he has the energy to grin and bounce and keep up with the rest of them like it’s effortless. They’re not supposed to see the tired bruises under his eyes or the way he shakes from hours of trying to hold himself at a werewolf’s level.

He wets his lips, a flash of frustration burning bitter through him.

“Look, I’m not strong like you guys.” It’s not news. It’s been a constant refrain for the past two years of his life, ever since Scott was bit and turned into a superhero sports star girl magnet and left Stiles standing awkwardly in his dust. Stiles couldn’t ask for the bite, Scott wouldn’t understand. And he doesn’t think he wants it either, not really. He doesn’t want the claws or the anchors or the pulls to the moon. He just wants to be able to keep up with them. Wants to not be the funny one in a group of supermodels. Doesn’t want to be the weak one in a group of heroes. Doesn’t want to be the one holding them back.

He bites over a frustrated sound, frowns at Derek’s faintly pinched brows, manages to lift one bone-dead arm and snaps out even more harshly: “I’m not… hot.”

It’s not the whole issue, it barely touches the issue, but it’s too much already and he scowls after he says it, daring Derek to snort or mock him or roll his eyes and agree, obviously, but that searching look only seems to sink deeper and Derek murmurs, “You’re wrong.”

Which is just… it’s worse than laughing. Because Stiles could handle people dismissing him, mocking him. He’s used to that. What he can’t take is Derek fucking Hale feeling so goddamned bad about his patheticness that he’s reduced to lying to try and comfort him.

“Oh, right, sure. I’m hot. You guys are all freaking Greek gods with all the muscle and the… faces.” He snorts, falling back against an overworked spine that protests the pressure. “You can’t even talk. You’ve always been the hottest person ever. You’ve got no idea what it’s like to be the one no one ever wants.”

Derek’s eyes flick down Stiles again, reassessing, and Stiles winces over the realization that Derek’s trying to find something, anything likable on his wiry frame.

Don’t––” He starts, because he physically cannot handle that, but Derek’s saying “You’re wrong,” again, and it’s soft and warm in a way that doesn’t sound like pity.

But Stiles doesn’t let himself feel it. The “oh yeah?” he shoots back is sure and challenging, almost smug in its confidence because maybe he’s not beautiful beyond all reason like the man next to him, maybe he’s not strong and desirable and wanted but at least he’s smart enough to realize that.

Derek lets out a growl of frustration and turns where he’s sitting, crowds in close with palms pressed to either side of Stiles’ thigh, and Stiles is on the edge of rolling his eyes because does Derek seriously think he can intimidate Stiles into changing his mind about himself, but then “you’re wrong” falls out a third time, a too-warm growl of a whisper, and Derek closes the space between their lips.

Stiles loses his conviction in the contact.

Derek’s hands move over him while they kiss, dragging soothing tips and scolding pinches over his wrecked muscles in ways that leave him groaning, touches sinking you’re beautiful and you’re wanted under his skin in ways the best words probably never could. Hands trail down to play across Stiles’ fingers, silently praising the cleverness of them. Beard-rough lips drift up to kiss across his temple and a warmth of admiration seems to melt into him with each press. And Stiles can barely move, arms aching protest as he lifts them to thread into Derek’s hair, body quivering in ways that shift between exhaustion and want.

When Derek finally leans back Stiles whimpers, wanting more but too worn down to chase him. But Derek’s watching him from inches away in the dark room, and there’s no reflected flaws in those dark eyes now. Just you’re beautiful, you’re wanted. You’re important

Stiles runs light thumbs down Derek’s beard, lets out a light laugh he barely recognizes.

“Guess I believe you,”

(And from now on, on nights when the pack goes out running, Stiles and Derek find a more interesting way to occupy themselves by the cars.)

Ben Solo’s Fists & Rey’s Taste of Rage

Ben Solo’s hands say a lot about his character. I definitely recommend keeping a mindful eye on what exactly his hands are doing all through TFA, because they easily betray not only Ben, but where the story is going. The most iconic moment for me is when he is seated before his grandfather’s mask. His fists are shown to falter, clenching tighter and then slackening (but still remaining as a fist). 

The next iconic moment, and the most revealing in my opinion, is when we find him kneeling before Rey. His hands and posture are totally relaxed. His back isn’t so rigid that he looks like he’s got a stick up his ass and you can also note the relaxation in his arms and shoulders.

Even in this part of the interrogation scene his hands are conspicuously relaxed. 

But directly after under the cruel gaze of Snoke, what is his hand doing? And boy is that hand balled up. Just look at that.

People wonder if Ben knew Han was there? Whelp, his hands give him away EVERY TIME. Look a this. You can see by the lighting of the gloves that he tightens his fists and, when watching the scene itself, you’ll find that his posture becomes more rigid. 

When Han calls to him, Ben turns to meet his father after hesitating. Look at those damn fists. Watch the whole scene and you can see his breathing change, his shoulders and arms pull closer to his body, his legs spread into a more austere stance. 

He removes the mask and that hand… Need I say more? 

The pivotal moment. I watched this scene in slow motion and I have to say that Adam Driver’s micro expressions aren’t valued enough. You can even see a part of him relishing in the act, but then his expression flickers so quickly back to a sad and lifeless void that it’s heartbreaking. He appears, in my opinion, to hope for some form of relief, but that hope is quickly shattered after he finds himself disgusted with the act. He still says ‘thank you’, but the massive reality check is when Han touches his face. Ben looks so regretful in that moment.  

It hits home after Han’s body falls away and Ben wants to take it back. What’s more is that the scene is paralleled with Leia. Beautiful and tragic.

But curiously, around Rey his hands are once again inconsistent. Look at his fist before the lightsaber goes to Rey, then after. It honestly almost looks like the director wanted Adam to do this conspicuously, so the audience would subconsciously pick up on the shift.

Here’s where it gets good. Directly after the cliff scene, Rey becomes more aggressive and look at her hand. Yes naysayers, they were finding the Force together and Rey absorbed some of Ben’s rage. 

Transference of energy. Yin and Yang. She drew from the same well as him. This is also what made her vulnerable to Snoke in that moment. Watching the entire scene, you’ll notice that Rey’s hand is completely relaxed after she strikes Ben down. Ben’s hands are curled, but even his aren’t balled up with energy. 

Side Note: Sorry for the grainy quality. I had to lighten up the images quite a bit.

anonymous asked:

Jason: "Why couldn't Wonder Woman have adopted me instead?"

HI I WROTE A THING

Cor Et Cerebrum universe bc why not and also I don’t have to do a ton of legwork to get Bruce and Jason to talk.

Gen!Fic
Fluffish
Some language

Jason Todd has been moping around the manor for five weeks when Bruce has finally, finally had enough. He likes having him there, he really does, and most of the time it works out just fine.

Except Jason has picked up the awful, grating habit of muttering, “Why couldn’t Wonder Woman have adopted me instead?” every single time he’s even mildly annoyed. In his defense, Bruce visibly flinched the first time Jason said it, half-joking, and he’s been throwing it around since then probably in hopes of getting a similar reaction which Bruce will not give him the satisfaction of seeing.

Jason is pretty fond of his new catchphrase and the week that Bruce reaches his limit is the same week Jason makes sure he overhears it while Jason is talking to Alfred, Damian, Tim, Dev, and Dick, in that order. The final straw is when he’s sitting on the floor in the study while Bruce works at the desk, and Jason puts his book down to ruffle Titus’ ears and without provocation says it to the dog.

“You’re a good boy,” he says to the drooling face, the dog’s whole body shaking in excitement. “I never had a dog. Why couldn’t Wonder Woman have adopted me instead? She’d let me have a dog.”

Bruce slams the folder in front of him shut and Jason waits for the shout or the tense reassurance that Jason could, in fact, procure a dog if he so desired.

But instead Bruce picks up his cell phone.

“Diana,” he says after a moment. “I have a problem.”

Jason stops petting Titus to listen and Bruce stands and leaves the room.

“Get a bag,” Bruce says stiffly when he returns, Jason still sitting and too shell-shocked to move. “Now.”

And if Bruce is going to take it to the next level, Jason is going to match him step for effing step. He throws stuff in a duffel upstairs and stomps back down toward the front, where he finds Bruce waiting.

“Hurry up,” Bruce says. “She’ll be here soon.”

Jason follows him to the end of the lane where Bruce takes the duffel bag and motions for him to sit down on it. Bewildered, amused, angry, and still silent, Jason complies.

Bruce pulls something out of his pocket and then crouches and safety pins a piece of paper to Jason’s shirt.

“Ow,” Jason mutters, even though the pin didn’t actually prick him.

“Sorry,” Bruce says, and Jason feels a touch of guilt but doesn’t fess up. “We’ll miss you. Have fun.”

And then Bruce leaves.

A few minutes later, a car turns into the drive and stops. The window rolls down and Dev looks at him. Tim is in the passenger seat on the far side, with wide eyes, sipping something orange through a plastic straw.

“Mate,” Dev says, leaning out the window to look around a bit.

“Yep,” Jason says.

The note on his chest says UNACCOMPANIED MINOR. GUARDIAN: DIANA PRINCE.

Jason isn’t a minor but he’ll let this detail slide for now.

“I’m calling his bluff,” Jason says, and Tim snorts.

“Bloody hell,” Dev grumbles and rolls up the window and drives toward the manor.

Another few minutes go by, slow in the early fall afternoon, and then there’s a soft whoosh and Wonder Woman lands on her booted feet in front of him. For all his bravado, he hasn’t actually spent all that much time in front of her, and if he’s honest, she still intimidates him far more than Clark ever does. He forces himself to give her what he hopes is a cheeky grin.

“Hiya,” he says. “Guess you’re the new mom.”

“Your father conveyed such wishes,” she replies solemnly.

She looks up and Jason turns at the sound of footsteps approaching across the fine gravel. It’s Bruce again, this time with a mug in his hand. He raises it to Diana slightly in greeting.

“He is certain?” Diana asks and Jason is starting to feel a little nervous. She sounds so serious.

“Ask him,” Bruce says, with a shrug. He stops and puts one hand in his pocket while he sips the coffee. “He’s been talking about it for months.”

“Are you certain?” Diana asks Jason and Jason is still unwilling to back down. At some point, one of them has to break and either admit it’s a huge farce or beg him to change his mind.

“Yep,” Jason says. “So, whaddaya say we get the frick outta here?”

“I have always wanted a son,” she says, now beaming. “I always thought it unlikely to find one that agreed to the terms of Themyscira.”

“You’ve found him,” Jason says, giving Bruce a slightly alarmed look. He was not made aware of terms.

“Do not trouble yourself,” Diana says, seeing his expression. “Castration is a brave but noble undertaking to dwell among my women. And we are not barbarians. You will be permitted to be sedated for the procedure if you desire it. There is no shame.”

Jason feels the blood rush to his cheeks and then immediately drain from his head.

“The–” is all he gets out. The world around him has gone fuzzy, wrapped in gauze and protected from sound.

He does not hear or see Bruce sputter into his coffee.

But he does turn to look at Bruce after and mistakes the attempt at Bruce’s self-recovery for a dark scowl.

So, Jason figures he brought this on himself.

“Shall we go?” Diana asks.

“I…” Jason looks dumbly down at the note on his chest and tears it off with a frown. “I think I’ll stay,” he says faintly.

“That is unfortunate but understandable. I have reason to believe your current family holds great affection for you,” Diana says kindly.

“Sorry to waste your time,” Bruce says, as Jason climbs to his feet and says a hasty goodbye. The boy goes up into the manor and disappears inside.

“How did I do?” Diana asks, smiling at Bruce.

“Fine,” he says, scant on praise as usual. “The castration bit was a little over the top, don’t you think?”

“It was very effective,” Diana retorts. And Bruce can’t argue with that.

“Thanks again,” Bruce says. “I’m going to go do damage control.”

“It was my pleasure,” Diana says before flying away. Bruce watches her go and then turns back to the house. When he goes inside, Jason is sitting on the steps in the foyer with a defiant glare.

“I wish the Kents had adopted me,” he snaps before Bruce can speak. “They’d never do something like this.”

Bruce opens his mouth and for a long moment, is frozen, but then he laughs and holds out an arm. Jason is still sulking, pretty convincingly for someone wearing combat boots and almost as tall as Bruce.

He steps right into the hug with his arms stiff at his sides and his chin dipped down. Bruce squeezes him, an arm firm around Jason’s shoulders.

“You didn’t really think I’d let her take you, did you?” he asks.

Jason grumbles something indistinct and shakes his head.

“You know she was joking, right?”

“Fuck me,” Jason mutters in disgust and relief at once. “I’m never gonna be able to even look at her again.”

“Give it a few months,” Bruce says. “You’ll survive. And maybe stop throwing your dad out with the bathwater every time I turn around.”

“Are you calling yourself a baby?” Jason asks without looking up, but Bruce can hear the grin in Jason’s voice.

“Maybe. Maybe I’m sensitive.”

Jason barks a laugh against Bruce’s shoulder and steps back.

“Deal,” he says.

“Crap,” Tim says from the top of the stairs. They both look up to where Tim and Damian both have armfuls of books and action figures from Jason’s room.

“Put those back,” Jason orders sharply, already hurrying toward the stairs. “Now, you miscreants.”

“Why did you permit a return policy, Father?” Damian asks, stepping back and tightening his grip. Tim has already fled and abandoned him there. Damian wastes no more time in following and Jason’s heavy boots sound out as he storms down the hall. There are outraged shouts and a scream a moment later.

“Change of heart, sir?” Alfred asks calmly, walking by with a tray of tea things.

“Something like that,” Bruce says, still looking up the stairs and trying to decide if it’s worth intervening. There’s another yell and he decides they’ll come for help if they need it.

Probably.

Maybe.

There’s a loud crash.

He shakes his head and goes upstairs.

“I knew she wasn’t serious,” he mutters to himself when there’s another crash. “Why didn’t I go with her?”

anonymous asked:

Hi, first off, hope you're having a nice day and sorry in advance if this question is worded badly I was wondering if you could discuss landing jumps because I've heard a lot of commentators say that Shoma Uno saves his landings with his knees and from Seimei at the GPF the commentators were saying that one of the great things about Yuzu was that he was able to land jumps cleanly without being over the edge properly. So I was wondering what was meant by that Thank you :)

Hi there, I’m having a decent day, thank you (just lazing around waiting for my fave to start his tennis match, no biggie) :D Sure, we can discuss jump landing. I will get the top 6 men to serve as illustration and I will use this one relatively simple jump all of them can do: the quad toe loop.

Here’s one from Shoma, Skate America 2016, GOE +2.29:

Shoma didn’t exactly have to use his knee to save his landing here, and he usually doesn’t have to do that either. The thing that makes his landing look a bit like “saving” is knee and ankle torque, which is what happens when a skater stops their jump’s rotation on the ice instead of in the air. Note that Shoma doesn’t under-rotate his jump: in most cases he rotates his last revolution over the ¾ mark so there’s no question with base value. However, his jumps are quite small and do not allow him ample time to unwrap his body before he touches down. You can see in the slow motion: there was a lot of tension in his right side when he landed, which led to him having to twist his knee to maintain balance, his free leg taking a bit more time to swing to the check position, and his blade drawing a hook shape on the ice instead of a smooth curve. 

Here’s what it looks like when a skater really has to save a landing, demonstrated by Patrick, Trophée Éric Bompard 2013, GOE +1.43:

You see here how Patrick lost some control over his axis (my theory: this jump was a bit higher than how he intended it to be) and ended up landing slightly forward, so he had to use his right knee, his arms, as well as his free leg to regain balance. It was safe enough but not very pretty :) Kudos to Patrick though, because doing that was not easy and it took great core strength to affect that sort of maneuver. I’m actually being kinda mean to Patrick here, because he’s an oddball who always lands his quad toe combos better than his solos (at least in recent memory), like this:

What you can see in the slow motion is the landing of the triple toe, and that’s the kind of landing we want to see from these gentlemen: smooth landing curve, a quick snap into the check position, free leg nicely extended, good speed and good flow back into the program.  

Here’s a quad toe from Nathan, US Nationals 2017, GOE +2.00:

Nathan’s jumps are about average-sized so he does not have to deal with knee torque, however his landing knee is quite stiff and he tends to land on a rather flat edge. Ideally you’d want to see a lower knee bend and a deeper outside edge. Both of these factors, besides adding to the aesthetic of the landing, serve the more important purpose of better absorbing the force of the impact and making the landing less jarring on the skater’s body.

Boyang’s landing is what happens when a skater makes better use of both knee and edge. Here’s his quad toe from Grand Prix Final 2015, GOE +1.86:

Boyangs jumps have amazing height and distance, which make them breathtaking to watch, however times and again, this would cause him some difficulty with control and tip his landing forward, as you can see in this one jump right here. Note, however, that the way he saved his landing was different from how Patrick did it earlier: Boyang relied mostly on his knee and edge, while Patrick used also his back and arms.  

And now for the cherries on top, let’s look at the Cricket brothers: they both have excellent landings, though very different in styles.

Javier first, World Championships 2017, GOE +3.00:

Yep, damn well as near perfection as you’re ever going to get: check out that deep edge on landing and that smooth running curve, that uninterrupted flow back into the program, perfectly in tune with the music too if you watch the video. Javier’s landing is in the same style as Patrick’s: it’s the sort that gives off a feeling of solidity and sureness, as it utilizes the skater’s entire body and requires great core strength, which happens to be the area Javi excels at.

Then of course, Yuzuru, World Championships 2017, GOE +2.43:

Yuzu’s landing is the perfected version of Boyang’s: a result of more refined control over his axis, so that the size of the jump works for him and not against him. Compared to Javi’s, Yuzu’s landing relies almost exclusively on knee and edge: check out the way he used his knee bend and the angle of his blade to absorb the impact, plus how his arms were opened virtually as an afterthought and appeared to serve the aesthetic more than the practical :) That’s why I remarked earlier that these two training partners have two very different landing styles: Javi’s is firm and powerful, Yuzu’s is light and elegant, both are lovely to watch.

Man, this topic sure is fun to talk about :D Thanks for bringing it up! 

*wail* tennis match still hasn’t started *wail*

The Lost Legacy of Doom’s Hitscan Enemies

I’m dancing. My feet follow no pattern and make no sound as I glide effortlessly over the terrain, but the rhythm of the Super Shotgun guides my every move. I weave to and fro among the soaring fireballs and scything claws, spotting opportunities, darting near and far, catching hellspawn in efficient point-blank bursts of scattershot. Boom, click, ker-chunk. Boom, click, ker-chunk. Boom, click, ker-chunk. Somewhere in the back of my head, I’m dimly aware of the familiar noise of a pneumatic door sliding open, barely audible above a tinny MIDI rendition of ‘Fear Of The Dark’. It’s catchier than you’d think.

Somebody roars. I’ve heard the sound enough times to recognise it as a ‘somebody’. Startled, I pivot to catch sight of the new assailants: two heavyset bald men, cradling imposingly large guns, furious piggy eyes as red as their bulky chestplates. Chaingunners. Before I can close the distance, they open fire, tearing an abundance of new holes in my circle-strafing, road-running backside. I put them out of action, but the damage is done. Was that a fair exchange? It’s not as if I could’ve outpaced their shots. Are they a fun enemy design in this, the most famous of all famously fast-paced first-person shooter? My kneejerk response is ‘no’, but Doom—because of course, it’s Doom—is a lot smarter than it seems.

Few games can claim to have lived as long and as healthily as Doom. Of course, it’s had the unwavering support of a community on its side, constantly tweaking and touching-up and doing everything in their power to stop the wrinkles under its eyes from showing, but its simple formula and flexible combat were always going to hold up well against the test of time. Doom has influenced the design of the modern first-person shooter in more ways than I could possibly articulate, with a little bit of DNA in everything from ARMA to Ziggurat, and yet… I feel there are one or two lessons from it that never quite caught on.

See, the concept of the ‘old-school’ first-person shooter, while not especially formally defined, is very much a thing. We’ve seen bits of it in the likes of Painkiller, Strafe, Tower of Guns, Dusk, Desync, Devil Daggers, and yes, even Doom 2016: games that buck dominant design patterns to focus on swift, streamlined, evasive movement, and a host of enemies that force you to make the most of that movement. Out of style, but by no means out of their depth, these games take after Doom more than most, but no matter how much they borrow from it, there’s one particular feature that many seem to skirt around. Something regarded almost with a kind of hushed, ‘we don’t talk about that’ shame, like the uncle at the family get-together who isn’t allowed to leave the country for reasons that nobody’s quite sure of. Hitscan enemies, a regular staple of Doom’s encounters, have near-vanished from the contemporary games that bear closest resemblance to it. What happened?

Well, at a glance, they do seem to clash with the desired experience. Doomguy can outrun a lot of things—many of which need at least fifty supervised hours logged before you can operate them independently—but he cannot outrun bullets, nor buckshot. You can’t dodge a hitscan enemy’s attacks by just going fast; the nature of Doom means that they take no time to pivot and have impeccable aim, other than the inherent spread patterns of their weapons. Your only recourse, it would seem, is to get out of range—a bit of a tall order, in most scenarios—or to take cover, which sounds like it would go directly against the fast, exciting experience of running around with the wind in your hair and a rocket launcher under your arm. ‘Cover’ is a dirty word; one that brings to mind hunkering behind a chest-high wall, plinking away at a succession of targets and crawling out only when a grenade gets tossed into your lap. To be in cover implies one is at rest, without any of the spatial analysis, fast-paced action or thrilling escapes that characterise the rest of the combat. You can see this stigma manifest frequently in retro first-person shooters, which often come hand-in-hand with the attitude that cover is for babies, and charging blindly into battle with your enormous, impenetrable testicles hanging out on display is the only acceptable combat strategy for ‘real men’. You could probably write a hefty tome about how unhealthy pulp action-hero masculinity has seeped through various layers of media and eventually pooled, like a discarded half-finished McDonalds’ thickshake, in nooks and crannies of gaming obscurity, but that’s a discussion for another time.

The thing is, Doom itself doesn’t actually work that way. In fact, it does a number of things to ensure that hitscan enemies don’t stifle the player’s movement, but instead add an extra set of considerations and trade-offs, forcing them to look at the play space—and when and where they position themselves in it—in a more nuanced manner. Like most of the ingredients that go into a first-person shooter, the way Doom’s hitscan enemies work is subject to its encounter design—a surprisingly diverse field, as custom WADs frequently demonstrate—but there are a few qualities to them you can count on in every sensible encounter.

Let’s break this down, piece by piece. Of the five enemy types in the first two Doom games with hitscan attacks, the three most common ones by a large margin are the ‘former humans’: undead soldiers who utilise conventional firearms—provided your definition of ‘conventional’ extends to a portable belt-fed chain gun, I suppose—and have all the durability of a cardboard cutout of Master Chief that somebody left out in the rain overnight. Upon noticing the player, they give a suitably enraged bellow and enter their attack routine: move, pause, shoot (if possible), repeat.

This pattern gives us time. Like a fireball whistling through the air, it gives us a chance to handle our predicament by reacting and moving quickly. It only takes an undead sergeant a few tenths of a second to level his shotgun barrel at yougive or take a bit of bumbling around, as they are wont to do—but in the world of Doom, it’s enough to at least start on a decisive manoeuvre. Doomguy runs quickly enough that you can very likely put something between yourself and your foe before they fire—it doesn’t even have to be a wall; other monsters serve perfectly well—and since the poor daft AI has no concept of suppressing fire, you need only be behind it for the split-second it takes them to return to their ‘move’ state. Consequentially, cover is less about clinging to the warm, comforting bosom of a solid wall and more about rapidly, momentarily repositioning yourself when the situation demands it; diving around corners, circling pillars, making use of the nearest solid thing in a pinch and immediately darting back out again. Taking cover is every bit as much about clever, well-timed movement as circle-strafing a pack of imps, and to be honest, probably demands far more split-second decision-making.

Another quality that’s critical to the success of the former humans is their relative squishiness: you can usually count on a single shotgun blast to put one out of action, and even glancing shots are likely to interrupt their routines long enough to buy some extra breathing room. A crowd can be swiftly dealt with by just raking a chain gun across their ranks—conveniently, the exact weapon dropped by the strongest former human, the Chaingunner—and pointing anything bigger at them is usually outright wasteful. This is key because it means that they’re only a very short-term threat—or, in larger battles where they’re mixed up with other enemies, only a threat for as long as you ignore them. Ducking behind a pillar once to evade a sergeant’s buckshot is a rush, but having to go through the same motion two or three times is stagnation. By letting you remove the former humans from the fight almost as quickly as they appear, Doom lets you quickly lift the restrictions they impose and expand the space where you can freely move, ensuring you’re never tied to one piece of cover or trapped in some godforsaken alcove.

But not every hitscan enemy in Doom goes down so easily, does it, hmm? I’m going to gently refuse to acknowledge the Spider Mastermind—a rare, highly-situational boss that squats unpleasantly at the end of the first game like a cane toad under the wheels of your dad’s Hilux—and instead concentrate on the notorious Arch-vile, whose pale, emaciated, lanky form is enough to set off half a dozen panic alarms in any Martian marine’s head. It’s everything the former humans aren’t: fast, durable, and capable of suddenly blasting half your health clean off from the far side of a munitions bay—to say nothing of its ability to revive fallen monsters, unravelling your work more and more the longer you leave it standing. Crucially, however, while the Arch-vile makes for a more persistent and punishing threat than the former humans, it also gives us much more time to work with. It takes about three full seconds of dramatic posing for an Arch-vile to wind up its hitscan attack—a pillar of infernal fire that explodes around its target—and once again, you are only required to actually duck behind something for the split-second when the attack connects to avoid taking damage. 

Consequentially, while our vitamin D-deficient friend does rather firmly, briefly force players into hiding, it also affords us the opportunity to stretch our legs and take nontrivial actions in between its attacks, giving it a distinctly different effect to Doom’s other hitscan enemies. Between every Arch-vile’s attack, there’s time enough to dart around the immediate area, change cover, take care of some lesser enemies, or—most likely—run up to it and empty both barrels into its repulsive mug. At an abstract level, the Arch-vile clamps down on the player by forcing them to be out of certain zones at certain times, but doesn’t make those zones inherently damaging to cross, like a crowd of former humans does.

Putting everything back together, Doom’s hitscan enemies are designed not to eliminate movement, but to carefully squeeze it; to force the player to take action, moving along vectors towards positions of safety. Restrictions on where in the combat space you can safely be are what make Doom’s fights engaging, and the restrictions that hitscan enemies provide are every bit as important to your positioning as a Revenant’s homing rocket or an Imp’s tossed fireball—they just take a different approach. Yet they’re also designed to ensure you’re never required to linger at your destination a moment longer than necessary, either by being easy to remove from the battlefield, or by only periodically applying their particular brand of pressure. Like every enemy in the game’s toolbox, they can be abused and used outside of their ideal roles—take a peek at The Plutonia Experiment, half of Final Doom, for some truly breathtakingly rude Chaingunner placement—but their basic principles are every bit as valuable as their peers.

Doom will force you to move, but it will never force you to stay. And that’s the philosophy that every first-person shooter should be built on, really.

GREY AREA. (M) | 08

And just like that, your fate was sealed - because Min Yoongi was absolutely going to destroy you. But hell, if you weren’t going to let him, or bask happily in the flames as he did so.

And sadly, at the time, you didn’t think that your thoughts would become so literal.


“There are all kinds of addicts. I guess. We all have pain. And we all look for ways to make the pain go away. - Sherman Alexie, The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian

 Pairing: Yoongi/Reader
 Word Count: 6,867
 Genre/Warnings: Soulmate AU, Angst,
   Chapter Index



Park Jimin’s arms tangle around the woman you do not recognize. Hands wrapping around her waist, as she is then tugged further into Jimin’s embrace, and when their lips connect, a sudden pain illuminates through your body so brightly it rivals the affects of Min Yoongi’s gaze.

The pain is like a knife starting at the tip of your heart and slicing through. And it’s not in one quick semi-painless sort of way, either. It’s a slice that is poorly executed, that is off to a rough start. You can almost feel every sharped raggedy edge as it tears your heart in half.

The luminous effects causes you to move a hand to settle over the place where your heart resides, because witnessing what you are, it’s the only thing that can reassure you that it is, in fact, still in tact. Still beating. Still pulsating blood. Still keeping you alive.

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foxpaws10  asked:

Heeeeyyy, if you're still taking prompts how about "what do you want from me" for andreil with a shit ton of angst? ... And some fluff if possible ??? 😆 xx

one angsty andreil, just for you, my lovely friend! a little lighter on the fluff than i was aiming for, but what can ya do. also on AO3.

send me prompts :)


Andrew opens his eyes to the pitch black of their dorm room, unable to move, barely able to breathe. His back is to the wall, his hands are clenched in the sheets, and he is struggling not to bite through his bottom lip. Images of demons past play behind his eyes, so he does his best not to blink. Andrew jumps when Neil makes a small noise in his sleep, and he feels like the walls are closing in on him.

He climbs over Neil, careful not to touch him, and silently makes his way toward the door. He thinks he hears Neil call after him, but Andrew knows he will give him some space. At least for a little while. Andrew leaves the room, fully aware that this is just a feeble attempt at outrunning his own mind.

Neil’s weight beside him is now familiar and can even be a comfort, sometimes. But on the occasions when Andrew’s senses are on overdrive and the smallest movement feels like an avalanche, an earthquake, a fucking planetary realignment, Neil knows better than to take Andrew’s abandonment personally.

Neil’s hoodie is thrown on the back of his desk chair, so Andrew makes his way over to dig out the pack of cigarettes from the pocket. He thinks he could light it with just the fire on the edge of his tongue, but he grabs a lighter from the drawer just in case.

He opens the window with so much force that the glass vibrates harshly for several seconds. Andrew is unconcerned. He watches with disinterest as a small crack forms at the bottom of the windowsill. Whatever. It’s still functional.

He climbs onto his desk and pulls his knees up to his chest, leaning back against the wall before lighting his cigarette and taking a long, slow drag. Andrew wonders if maybe the smoke will clear out the tar in his lungs, if he’ll be able to breathe again. Probably not.

Time passes, and Andrew doesn’t notice. An hour, maybe two. His breath fogs up the window. He stares outside as the sun slowly illuminates the parking lot below. The Maserati begins to take shape, and he has the sudden urge to drive until he can’t anymore. Maybe through the mountains, maybe off a cliff. Who knows.

He must be spending too much time around Neil.

Andrew distracts himself by recalling the highest points of elevation in the United States from a geography book he read in high school. He isn’t even halfway through the list when he hears the bedroom door open. He doesn’t look, but the sound of the door closing lets him know that it’s just Neil. He never lets the door click back into place; he turns the knob and shuts the door, releasing it only when the door is fully closed and will make no noise. Andrew isn’t sure whose sake he does this for. Maybe Kevin’s, maybe his own.

He keeps his gaze trained on the parking lot until he feels Neil approach him. He slowly flicks off the ashes from his cigarette into the small pile he has made on top of Kevin’s history book. Ancient Rome or something equally as useless. Andrew doesn’t care enough to look. He turns his head to see that Neil has stopped a few feet away, running shoes in one hand and a hoodie in the other. He doesn’t say anything, but he extends the hand holding the hoodie, the same one that was on the chair. Andrew looks back to the window and takes note of the layer of frost on the outside. It’s probably a bit above freezing. Funny. Andrew hadn’t noticed.

He reaches out and takes the hoodie. Stares at Neil. Prepares to pry open his jaw and force out a reply to whatever Neil is about to say.

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Never Have I Ever - Part 3

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x female reader
Summary: Being interviewed by the most famous talk show host was totally new for you, and like always Ellen did her reputation justice, making you reveal something to the audience especially Sebastian seems to like.
Warning: fluff, smut, fingering, PDA

Part 1 / Part 2 (Smut in Part 2)

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Fake Dating Series; Woozi/Jihoon

- “CUT!”
- you and jihoon sigh after hearing that word for the tenth time that day
- you turn to jihoon and say “geez, can’t you act properly? you’re delaying everything” and jihoon answers back “says the one who can’t even remember their lines”
- you take a step forward and glare “why you—”
- the director screams “CAN WE AT LEAST GET THROUGH A WHOLE SCENE WITHOUT YOU TWO ARGUING WITH EACH OTHER?”
- you and jihoon are both really popular k-drama actors
- but the thing is
- you both hate each other
- you’re known as the rivals of the acting industry
- jihoon is known for nailing the lead part—he has that natural, cold stare that makes his acting seem so effortless; he’s the number one pick if any producer needs the typical calm and collected ceo
- meanwhile you’re known for nailing the lead as well—in contrast to jihoon, you’re naturally warm and charming; you’re the number one pick for the goofy and dorky childhood-friend type
- opposite roles, but the same frustration towards each other
- you’re both constantly fighting to beat each other in any k-drama nomination
- best performance, drama of the year, best first/second lead, fan favorite
- you’re always tied no matter what and it frustrates you to no end
- the director throws the script on the floor out of anger when you and jihoon start arguing again, and he says “THAT’S IT, I’VE HAD ENOUGH”
- you and jihoon silently look up at the director who continues “if we can’t even get through the first episode, i don’t even want to think about the next fifteen. i think i’m going to have to change the cast”
- you and jihoon scream “WHAT?!” at the same time
- the director says “what choice do i have? i know you’re both two of the best actors out there, but you guys can’t even pretend to like each other”
- he walks back to his chair and motions you both to walk over to him
- when you do, he rewinds the scene on the camera and says “watch this”
- it’s one of the scenes you both managed to complete earlier, and he’s right…. the acting looks so fake and forced…..
- everything is fake of course, but…. the point of a light-hearted romance drama is for the leads to at least look like they like each other to give viewers hope for love….
- when the video ends, the director says “how stupid of me to hire two actors who hate each other…. i’ll have to think hard about this decision. let’s just take a quick lunch break”
- when he and the rest of the staff start making their way towards the cafeteria, jihoon grabs your wrist and says “come with me”
- you try to escape from his grasp, but he’s surprisingly strong
- jihoon takes you to the roof of the studio and says “okay, i’ll get straight to the point. i don’t like you, and you don’t like me.”
- you say “clearly.”
- he continues “but i know for a fact that you don’t want to lose this role, and neither do i.” you bite your lip as you say “what are you thinking?”
- he says “i’m thinking….. we pretend to date.”
- silence
- you scream “WHAT?!”
- jihoon asks “do you want to keep this job or not?” and you say “of course i do but date YOU? even if it’s just pretend, i—”
- he cuts you off and says “you do realize that if we do actually get cut off, word will spread and our reputations would go down, right? who’d want to hire two actors who got replaced because they couldn’t perform their job properly?”
- you gulp as you think of all the consequences, and you lower your head in defeat and say “…..fine. fake dating?”
- jihoon nods “only until we’ve convinced the director enough to keep us. we’ll just tell everyone here that we were pretending to hate each other this whole time because we wanted to keep our relationship a secret”
- you say “alright. but once this drama’s over, we’re over.” and jihoon says “we’ll be separated before you even know it.”
- he also adds “alright, when we go downstairs and tell everyone that we’re “dating”, you better put on your BEST acting to make this work, got it?”
- you furrows your brows and say “um, you have to put on your best acting too, you know? i’m pretty sure the director wasn’t only talking to me.”
- jihoon says “fine, we have to put on our best acting. we have one chance to pull this off. one mistake and our careers are over.”
- you say “just knowing that we never have to speak again after this is enough motivation for me.”
- jihoon asks “so do we have a deal?” and you say “deal.”
- you and jihoon shake hands to make it official and then head back downstairs to deliver the news
- when the staff returns after their quick lunch break, you and jihoon approach the director warily, and you clear your throat to get his attention
- the director turns to you both and asks “is there anything you need before we try filming one last time?” and jihoon says “actually, there’s something we need to tell you”
- he then grabs your hand and you almost reflexively slap his hand away, but you somehow manage to stop yourself and put on a smile
- jihoon holds your hands up and says “we’re dating.”
- the whole studio goes dead silent….. and you’re internally panicking because NO WAY is this going to work???
- first, you’re going to get fired from your roles, then you’re going to get called a liar, then—
- the director cries “YOU’RE DATING?!” while the rest of the production team gasps or start talking among themselves
- jihoon nods his head and smoothly lies “we have been for a while now.”
- the director asks “then…. why couldn’t you two even get through a whole scene without arguing?”
- you quickly blurt out “it’s to keep this whole rivalry thing up! we’re already known for hating each other, there would be suspicions if we suddenly got along in front of you all. but now you know. please give us another chance to prove that we can nail these roles.”
- the director says “oh! yes, please go ahead, i’m really looking forward to seeing genuine love for this episode!”
- you and jihoon nod and walk over to the scene and you take a deep breath, telling yourself over and over that you can do this
- when someone claps the slate, you push away (most of) your hatred for him and recite your lines with the BEST of your ability, and jihoon does as well because your careers are on the line and no way are you going to let it slip right through your fingers
- your smile however remains as fake as it can get…. hopefully, they all fall for it
- when the scene ends, the staff gets up on their feet and claps as the director exclaims “well done!! it seems we picked the right cast after all!! let’s keep it up, shall we?”
- you and jihoon look at each other and smile weakly
- this is going to be a long day
- when the director yells the final “CUT!” of the day, you and jihoon let out a sigh of relief because it was so hard NOT to start an argument with each other, so hard NOT to make any nasty comments about one another
- the staff thanks you for your hard work and you and jihoon walk away side by side, but when you both walk out of the building, you both look at each other and simultaneously say “i hate you” before walking off in different directions
- it can take many days to finish filming for just ONE episode, so you’re stuck with jihoon for so many hours a day, especially when you both have to wait until nighttime to film a night scene
- and it’s the same thing every time, nasty jabs at each other when you’re alone, but lovebirds when you’re in front of the film crew
- saying “i hate you” to each other before leaving for the day becomes a habit
- you both just want to make it clear that you will ALWAYS hate each other no matter what
- but you do…. notice a slight change in jihoon ever since you’ve started this whole fake dating thing
- you don’t miss the smirks he makes whenever he sends an insult your way, or the little smile that spreads across his face after rolling his eyes at something you said
- they’re little things you definitely noticed….. but you’re almost one-hundred percent sure they don’t mean anything
- almost
- one day, after getting your styling done, you walk into the studio to begin the filming of the third episode and your face contorts in confusion when you see a really tall guy talking to the director
- and when he turns around….. your heart does a flip because it’s famous actor KIM MINGYU
- the director spots you behind mingyu and waves you over, and you nearly faint when mingyu looks down and smiles at you
- you shyly look away from mingyu as your director says “you must know kim mingyu, right? he’s going to be playing the second lead, or your second love interest”
- your heart swells with joy when mingyu holds out a hand and says “i’m really looking forward to working with you!! your acting is one of the best” and you shake his hand while thanking him
- when jihoon walks into the studio and sees you interacting with kim mingyu, he quickly notices the light dusting of pink on your cheeks
- and he suddenly gets this weird feeling in his chest
- he’s not sure what it is
- the director spots jihoon and tells him to come over, and mingyu, friendly as he is, says “lee jihoon!! i’m REALLY excited to work alongside you!!”
- jihoon flatly says “right. let’s work hard.” and mingyu grins “wow, you really ARE fit for the role of the cold first lead!!”
- the director says that they’re going to start filming you and mingyu’s scenes, and the first one is of mingyu joking around with you to try to get you to smile again after you’ve had a misunderstanding with the first lead
- when the staff claps the slate….. you and mingyu get right to it
- and it’s absolutely perfect
- the whole staff is in awe at how NATURAL the whole scene looks…. it’s like they’re capturing a real-life moment, and not two actors working together
- jihoon bitterly watches from the side as you and mingyu run around the scene, teasing each other and making each other laugh
- but the thing that annoys him the most…. is your smile
- it’s so genuine
- you’ve never smiled at him like that
- but somehow, you can at kim mingyu, someone who you’ve only started working with MINUTES ago
- he tells himself that you guys are rivals, of course you wouldn’t smile at him like that…… but he just can’t seem to shrug it off
- when it gets to you and jihoon’s scenes, you’re still really smiley after having filmed such a fun and light-hearted scene with mingyu
- and you unknowingly cast a few glances past jihoon, and he knows…. you’re looking at mingyu
- after a long day of filming, mingyu runs over to you and laughs “you okay? you look like you’re about to fall over any second now”
- you cry “i’m STARVING” and he says “oh i know this REALLY good restaurant nearby that serves huge potions at a cheap price!! do you want to go try it out with me?”
- your eyes light up and you’re just about to say yes, when someone suddenly grabs your wrist and says “sorry. they already have dinner plans with me.”
- you turn to the sound of the voice, your eyes widening when you see that it’s jihoon who said that
- he continues “if you’ll excuse us, we’ll be going now.”
- he drags you away while you look back at mingyu, who’s watching you both go with confusion written all over his face
- jihoon doesn’t let go of your wrist and he keeps walking, while you shout “hey!! that hurts!! and where are you taking me??”
- without turning to you, he says “didn’t you hear? i’m taking you out to dinner.”
- your face softens at his words as you say “wh-what? you were serious?” and all he says is “i know this great place.”
- you and jihoon walk out of the building, and he takes you to a little restaurant, now empty considering the late time
- jihoon seems to know the kind old man behind the counter, and he chose a good spot since you’d both be able to eat in peace without anyone attacking you both for autographs
- you both sit on one of the tables and you ask “and why do i have to be here?” and jihoon replies “we’re dating, if you’ve forgotten”
- you say “yeah, but not for real?? i would’ve loved to try that new restaurant with mingyu…..”
- and there it is again; that slight pang in jihoon’s chest
- he picks up the menu and holds it up to hide his jealous face as he says “you seem to be getting along great with mingyu.”
- your face lights up as you exclaim “you know those scenes we filmed together?? i really WAS laughing!! he’s so funny!!”
- jihoon says “i see.”
- you grin “i really can’t wait to film with him again tomorrow!!”
- and there it is again, that genuine smile on your face, that smile that only appeared when you started talking about mingyu
- jihoon stays silent for a while before saying “don’t… smile at him like that.”
- he lays down the menu and looks you in the eyes, his expression blank, but his eyes…. desperate?
- before you could react or say anything, the waiter slides over to your table and asks “what can i get you two?”
- jihoon orders first, and you clumsily order afterwards because his words really caught you by surprise
- when the waiter leaved, you want to bring it up again, but you fear it might make things awkward, so the rest of the dinner…. is spent in silence
- after paying for your meals, jihoon walks you to the bus stop and silently waits with you until your bus comes…. he may “hate” you, but it’s late at night and no way was he going to leave you all alone
- unable to contain your curiosity any longer, you ask “jihoon, what did you say earlier? about smiling at mingyu?”
- despite the darkness, you can see a hint of pink on his cheeks and he quietly says “do you think you can… smile like that for me instead?”
- your eyes widen at his answer, but the bus suddenly stops in front of you to let you in, and you have no time to think of a response
- the doors close and you choose a spot next to the window, watching jihoon turn around to start heading for his building
- you look down at your lap and clench your fists over them, asking yourself “smile for him…?”
- you walk into the studio the next day, and you jump in surprise when you turn the corner and see jihoon stand right there
- you exclaim “hey, you jerk! you scared me—!”
- jihoon cuts you off “forget about what i said yesterday.”
- you say “what?” and he says “i wasn’t thinking, just forget about it” and he walks away before you could say anything else to him
- mingyu watches the scene from a distance and he smirks at the interaction because he knows there’s something there….. something neither of you can see yet
- after filming all day, mingyu decides to try again
- he runs up to you and asks “(name)!! since we couldn’t eat there yesterday, do you want to go today?”
- you’re just about to say yes, but when you catch jihoon looking your way, you smile at mingyu and say “sorry, mingyu. i have plans again with jihoon tonight.”
- jihoon’s eyes widen at your words, and you walk over to him, waving goodbye to mingyu, who waves back with a grin
- jihoon asks “plans?” and you say “yup. where are you going to take me today?”
- dates aren’t very frequent actually, but when you do go on one together, jihoon always manages to find the best places to eat
- dinner dates, lunch dates, coffee dates—neither of you officially call it a date when you go out, but you do consider it one
- you’re on your sixth date with jihoon (not that you’re counting), and you’re both playing twenty questions while sitting on the bench of the bus stop, waiting for your bus to come along
- “favorite meal?”
- jihoon makes a thinking pose, and then says “spicy ramyeon and jajangmyeon mixed together. favorite group?”
- you quickly answer “seventeen. favorite drink?”
- he says “coffee, hands down. what’s yours?”
- after telling him your favorite, your bus comes into view, and slows down to stop right in front of you
- like always, you get inside the bus, and jihoon calls your name before the doors close
- when you turn to him, he looks right at you, smirks, and says “i hate you.”
- you respond by huffing and saying “yeah? i hate you more, jerk.”
- date after date, you learn more and more things about jihoon, and even with all the insults and teasing, you can’t help but replay the entire date before bed
- you’re about thirteen episodes into the drama when you notice something wrong
- you’re on the bus after eating dinner with jihoon, and while looking out the window, thinking about the whole day, you realize…..
- the “i hate you”s you and jihoon used to tell each other
- they stopped
- you’re unable to focus on acting the next day, and you get scolded several times by the director for either being too distracted, or for forgetting your lines
- out of frustration, the director says “OKAY, let’s take a quick break so some of you can wake up. this is a really important episode, and we can’t have anyone screwing it up” and you drop you head in shame because you know he’s talking about you
- you walk back to your changing room and glare at yourself in the mirror because WHY CAN’T YOU ACT WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU
- you walk out after calming yourself down, but when you turn the corner, you accidentally bump into jihoon
- you groan “ugh, don’t tell me you’re here to insult me. alright, i did horribly, i know already—”
- in the middle of your sentence, jihoon holds up a bottle of your favorite drink, making you stop what you were saying
- you carefully take it in your hands and after some silence, you say “…it’s poisoned, isn’t it?”
- he rolls his eyes and says “definitely. not like i ran two blocks down just to get it for you.”
- your face softens and you ask “did you…. really?” and he nods his head and looks away, saying “i don’t know if something’s on your mind, or if you’re just really tired, but….. i hope this helps you feel better somehow.”
- you look down at the drink in your hands, and you clutch it tightly before looking up at your rival
- “jihoon.”
- “what?”
- “…thank you.”
- jihoon slowly turns to face you, and you…. give him one of your best smiles
- you softly say “thank you… really. it’s something so small, but it means a lot.”
- and jihoon can feel his face grow warm, but he just turns away and says “quit making a big deal out of it. it’s just a drink.”
- you say “but you remembered.”
- and he walks away without another word, leaving you smiling to yourself
- you go back to filming, and everything goes well for the rest of the evening, and even when mingyu smiles at you, it can’t compare to the smile you gave jihoon earlier
- you and jihoon don’t have a date planned for tonight, so as usual, you both walk out of the building together
- just as you’re about to go your separate ways, you both tell each other your goodbyes, and since it bugged you so much after realizing it…. you decide to try saying it again
- jihoon turns around and starts heading for his building, when you call out to him “lee jihoon!”
- he turns around and says “what?”
- you say “i hate you.”
- you’re expecting him to say “i hate you” back. you’re expecting at least a roll of the eyes, or maybe a scoff, or even a string of insults
- but you get none of those
- instead, jihoon looks you right in the eyes, and softly says
- “i know.”
- it’s the day before the final filming of the last episode, and you’re hanging out with jihoon one last time, on the same roof the deal was first made
- you say “i guess it ends right where it started, huh?”
- jihoon doesn’t say anything, so you take this as him being tired from all the filming and going on dates with you behind scenes
- your heart aches as you think “yeah… it must be hard pretending you love someone you hate.”
- because these past few weeks with jihoon have surprisingly been so fun
- the dates after work, the insults behind scenes but heart eyes on scene, the talks at the bus stop, just everything….. it’s all over now
- get up and say “i’m going to leave first, okay? we have a busy day tomorrow. good night, jihoon.”
- but as you’re walking towards the door, you suddenly feel a hand grab your wrist desperately
- you turn to jihoon with wide eyes, and with a firm gaze, he says
- “i… don’t want it to end yet.”
- you say “what are you saying?”
- he lets go of your wrist and walks closer to you, and just before his lips could touch yours, he whispers “i hate you.”
- and he closes the gap between you two
- the kiss is clumsy and slow, but…. it’s everything you could ever want, and it’s so hard to believe that just weeks ago, you were enemies
- when you both pull away, you intertwine your fingers together and say “i hate you too, jihoon.”
- the next day, you and jihoon both walk into the studio with love-struck smiles on your faces, ready to film the last few scenes of the final episode
- you go straight to filming the confession scene, and when jihoon says the line “i love you.”
- you look into his eyes and softly say “i love you too.”
- the director says “CUT! (name), that’s not your line.”
- you laugh, eyes kept locked with jihoon’s as you answer “my bad. let me try that again.”

beaureqard  asked:

you characterized human walking as controlled falling--does animal walking take more effort because they have 4 legs, they have to push off each one? what about the relative stresses of human vs animal running? is there an example of a well-muscled animal that doesnt have such trouble with fragility, or a social animal that can care for wounded members of its group? we've sort of gotten away from anthropology huh lmao Sorry! I guess... what pressures selected for the above in humans?

Actually, a lot of this is still anthropology! Bipedalism- one of the defining characteristics of hominins- and its origins are extremely important to physical anthropologists and primatologists.

Human walking is divided into two parts: stance phase and swing phase. As an experiment, stand up, take a slow walking step, and really think about what you’re doing. Then sit down again because things tend to get weird when you actually think about what you’re doing when you walk- it’s kind of like remembering to breathe or being aware that you can feel your tongue in your mouth. By and large as a species*, our brains are so used to the motions of walking that thinking about it can throw us off our stride. This is why learning to walk again after an injury can be so challenging- actively thinking about locomotion is not something the human brain likes to do. To walk, we pick up a leg, swing it forward, land on it, roll off the toe of the other leg, pick it up, swing forward, land on it… it goes on forever. Here’s an illustration of what that looks like!

This doesn’t actually require a lot of energy, from a caloric standpoint. It’s just falling with style. Running is quite similar; it’s just more energy put into it. It’s still the same motion; the leg just gets lifted a little higher. There’s a phase where both legs are off the ground (which you can’t see in this gif, unfortunately)- same as when a horse moves from walking to galloping. 

 Let’s compare that to a horse- the first gif is a horse walking, the second is a horse galloping.

Much of the stress in four-legged running comes from body weight; a horse is going to be a lot heavier than a human, so that’s a lot of force put on the knees. Running is always going to be more stressful than walking, but for humans, our relatively small body size is going to make it comparatively less stressful and more efficient.

Now, this isn’t to say that other animals aren’t efficient for what they are/can do; it’s just to say that we’re more efficient. There’s only two animals that can really keep up with us: domesticated dogs and domesticated horses. We’re going to keep looking at horses because horses and the energetics of their movement are really well-studied; horses have had a long working relationship with humans. Unlike most other animals, it’s unlikely we domesticated them just to eat- equines are real dynamos and are able to do a tremendous amount of work. Now, this is where things kind of get into physics, but bear with me for a moment. Consider for just a second: animals (us included) as machines. There’s an input: oxygen and calories. There’s an output that we call “work,” which is using a force to move an object a distance when both the force and the motion of the object are in the same direction. That’s what we mean when we’re talking about “work,” the ability to move an object (at bare minimum, the animal’s body) a distance. Horses have been selectively bred over millennia for stamina and speed, and as a result the domesticated horse’s maximum work output is about 3.5 times higher than what it should be**. So back to that question of two feet versus four feet: It’s not just about quadrupedalism versus bipedalism, but also about aerobic potential, lung capacity, metabolism… there’s a lot to it

Efficiency versus the capacity for speed is one of those evolutionary tradeoffs. There’s quite a lot of them in locomotion, including the fragility of various species. Horses and other leggy ungulates are typically more fragile than most other quadrupeds. If we look at predators- let’s use coyotes as an example- they might not be as fast initially as an ungulate, but they’ve also got some padding around their ankles. They’re less likely to shatter a bone. Bigger carnivores, like lions? Even more padding, with hunting strategies to match. Lions like to chase their prey into ambushes rather than just chase it down. To escape these ambushes, prey species need speed; like all things evolutionary, those fragile legs are a tradeoff. 

As far as social animals caring for wounded members of their group, you’ll sometimes see this in other primates- they’ll lick each others’ wounds, pick off debris, that sort of thing. There’s some evidence that they’ll chew plants with medicinal properties, but interpreting these actions is really difficult because there’s so much we don’t know about great apes’ cognition. There’s an excellent book, The Evolution of Sickness and Healing, that has loads of information. While it’s a little older- it was published in 1997- it’s a great jumping off point. The whole thing’s available for free online here. Chapter 2 in particular has a lot of good information on what chimpanzees have been observed doing, including one of my favorite Jane Goodall anecdotes about a 23-year-old male chimpanzee (so, an adult) who got hurt in a fight with another chimp and started screaming; his elderly mother came running from about half a kilometer away and started grooming him, which got him to calm down. Even for chimps, mom’s attention can make it all better. 


As always, footnotes and references/further reading under the jump!

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