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scara-meow-che · 1 year

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then they were roommates ┃ sweet deception with thoma

CW. NSFW (MDNI), afab! reader with no set of pronouns, roommate! thoma, use of sedatives, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it!), pervert! thoma, noncon, he takes pics of you, male masturbation, pervert and a bit ooc thoma ♥︎

AN. another reposted work. i promise that i'd be posting new ones soon <3 just a little more from my part on actually editing the drafts that i have here but anyway, enjoy our ooc pervert, roomie thoma!

thoma is the sweetest roommate you’d ever ask for!

besides the fact that he constantly reminds you of the tasks you have absentmindedly forgotten or prepares breakfast in the morning, he also helps you with your projects whenever he has some time to spare.

you also want to take note of the tea he always makes!

“hey thoma! you haven’t told me what brand this tea is.”

the weekend had just arrived and you were left sprawled in the comforts of your blankets while watching another rom-com with thoma. he was laid adjacent to your side, the two loveseats occupied by your tired bodies.

“silly, how many times do i need to tell you that i handmade this! you can help me pick up the ingredients tomorrow morning if you want,” thoma offers with a smile. he can see how you immediately perked up in interest, nodding your head in agreement. “well, just make sure that you sleep early now since i often leave around 5.”

and he hears you grunt afterward.

“come on now, you wouldn’t miss an opportunity like this, yeah?” he encourages you, standing up from his seat. he eyes you, taking a huge sip of your tea before dropping down the cup on the nearby table. he shudders, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips before he reaches out both his hands to help you stand up.

as you do, you can feel your body slipping into a relaxed state, almost stumbling and falling back into the seat. but thoma was fast and had an arm wrapped around your body, gently cradling you in his warmth.

“easy now,” he mumbles. it felt quite nice to be wrapped in his embrace as the nature of his being caring seeps through while he guides you to your room. “getting sleepy now, aren’t you?”

you hummed, feeling the softness of your blanket caressing your skin as thoma gently lays you down on your bed. as each second passes by, you find your eyes can barely keep themselves open. and before you were consumed by sleep, you can hear the faint whisper from your roommate, a sweet smile etched on his face.

“sweet dreams f/n.”

it was truly sweet, thoma had always been like this every day and you barely notice the patterns. he is someone so kind, dependable, selfless, and caring so you trust him. there’s never a reason to doubt him, not when he had you gullible just as he wanted to.

don’t get him wrong but thoma genuinely cares for you. he likes you, a lot. but the intensity of his emotions quickly becomes too much for him to handle. you were so pretty, so perfect in his eyes that he can’t help but give you what he thinks you’d want, what you’d like, what you’d find worthy of your affection.

but he thinks that fucking you when you’re asleep is something you wouldn’t approve of.

when he sees the steady motion of your chest, lungs pumping air in and out of your relaxed and vulnerable state, he’s quick to adjust your body, letting you lie flat on your back and your legs pressed on each side. you’ve always looked beautiful to him, no matter what you wear, no matter how unkempt your hair was.

and he finds you most beautiful spread out like this for him to take. an angel you are in his eyes.

he groans when he feels his cock ache inside his tight pants. you’re just that perfect, fuck, he’s so damn lucky that he’s the one who gets to share this apartment space with you and not just a random bastard who wouldn’t treat you like he does.

he just hope you wouldn’t find out the debauched person he can be.

thoma wants to put all the blame on you. you should be held accountable for how adorable you are, and how your beaming eyes always had him hooked whenever you tell him what happened in uni. you should know that he’s utterly smitten from how much you cling to him, trusting him to the point where you don’t even notice that the tea he makes was the very reason why he had you pressed down like this.

of course, he wouldn’t dare hurt you. he’s not an asshole who just takes advantage of you like this and ends up hurting you in any way or form. thoma would spend the time preparing you, holding you, and pleasing you before he could even please himself.

as he had your legs spread open, he would gently remove your pants, revealing you in your underwear. he finds it cute how you wear this particular pair every weekend, the soft pastel red cotton undies he always love!

then he would notice how you’d shiver, feeling the cold gust of wind welcoming your flushed skin. thoma would cover you up with the blanket he made for you, smiling as he remembers how you were elated to receive this from him.

as he provides you a source of warmth, he would continue and leave kisses on your thighs, his large hands pressing down to spread your legs wider. he dares not leave any hickeys, as much as his mind tells him to mark you already. he can do that later when you’re finally sober enough to know what the hell he’s doing.

after leaving feather-like kisses on both your thighs, thoma would press two of his fingers between your clothed cunt, sliding up and down your slit. he can hear the gentle hums of satisfaction escaping your lips.

“even when you’re in deep sleep, you’ve always loved being pleasured like this, huh?” he whispers, putting in some pressure that the tip of his finger glides down your clit. “we wouldn’t want to mess this though,” he adds before he hooks two of his fingers to the band of your underwear and slowly pulls it off your body.

with your lower half exposed for his eyes to feast on, thoma almost came at the sight of your cunt slightly shimmering from your slick. he curses under his breath, impatient because he just wants to shove his cock but had put an immense focus so to mentally stops himself.

before he even loses control, he moves his head down and has his lips close in your cunt. he hums, satisfied, tasting you as his tongue laps up and down your clit. he can finally taste you, so sweet against the sensitive flesh of his mouth. you were addicting, thoma can’t help but give your pussy lips a kiss before he had his whole mouth sucking on your poor cunt.

he felt your thighs occassionally close back from the sensation, your eyebrows furrowing that your sleep-induced state tries to focus on the pleasurable feeling you’re receiving between your legs.

“you’re so damn cute,” thoma mutters before he goes back on assaulting your sensitive clit. he wants to hear you moan, to hear you whimper about how good he’s treating you, how good he was on eating you out, on pleasing you but that can wait.

after flicking his tongue on your sensitive nub, he had two fingers slowly pumping in and out of your hole. you were so wet, so ready for him to take but he wants to make you cum first. thoma goes back on sucking on your clit as his fingers smoothly go in and out of your hole, adjusting it to reach the most sensitive spot inside that he knew by heart. you were so warm, so tight around two of his digits.

the pleasure he gets from fucking you like this had him rutting his hips down the bed, cock itching to shove itself inside your warmth and have your tight walls snuggle it closer. his pants' already ruined from his pre. he groans as he does so, eyes peering up to witness how your back softly arched from the vibrations he had let go on your clit. thoma can feel how close you are, your warm walls sucking him in with fervor.

“that’s it f/n. go on, cum for me,” he says even if you won’t even hear him or know that it was him pleasuring you like this. your walls clamped on his fingers, your hole gushing out so much slick as thoma didn’t stop sliding his digits in and out to ride your high.

your body was still shaking a bit from the aftermath of your orgasm when thoma swiftly moved up and pulled his hard and aching cock out of his already-ruined pants. he hissed as the warmth of his hands made contact with his skin, quickly rubbing the bulbous head on your cunt to relieve himself from the pain.

“‘want you so badly, f/n, just let me—” slowly, he pushes himself inside your walls, grunting at the sudden tightness engulfing him. he eyes your body, those emerald hues watching every twitch of your eyebrow and how your chest lets go of a shaky breath as he finally pushes all the way in. “fuck, you feel so good around me.”

thoma’s head was spinning at the view he’s getting of you even more when he looks down to where you’re both connected. his long girth feels just perfect to be inside you, smoothly sliding in and out. hell, he wanted to roughly bend you in half and shove himself as deep as he could but you might wake up. he doesn’t want that but fuck, you’re making it so hard for him.

in seconds, he rocks his hips against your body, his thighs softly smacking against your butt as he slowly ruts himself in your core. thoma bites down on his lips, focusing on being gentle while getting the most out of your cunt. he closes his eyes, savoring how your walls sucks him in, tightening every time he bottoms out. he was so big yet he had managed to have you adjust to his size perfectly, molding you to have his cock alone.

he was close, the pleasure so intense on bis lower half he had somehow let go of his focus and started a rather quick pace in fucking you. he hears you whimpering, his mind thinking that you’re awake and was ushering him to go faster, that you’re close too, that you want him to make a mess out of you.

“anything for you, f/n. fuck, i’d do anything for you,” he utters with a moan, sweat glistening on his forehead, his balls slapping oh so loudly against your thighs covered with your slick. and he pulls out, groaning as his cold hands started to jerk on his sensitive cock before he lets out his thick cum just right outside your hole.

thoma could barely keep in his moans, shivering at how he coats your pussy lips with his load that you looked so damn messy but fuck, you’re just so beautiful in his eyes.

“i love you,” he whispers but gained back his focus in seconds when he hears you humming. his eyes darted back to your face only to see that you’re still fast asleep.

thoma sighs, shaking his head, and went back down to look at your cum-stained cunt. he could just jerk again at the sight but doesn’t want to wake you sooner than he’d think he might. but, before he puts your legs back down and it let relax, he pulls out his phone from his pocket and quickly took pictures of your body, more on how he ruined you below, angling it where he can see how he had claimed you to be his.

with this sweet smile on his face, he bends down and slowly left a kiss on your forehead.

“sweet dreams, angel. i hope that we can spend more time soon.”

#⇲ full streams #nsfw.txt #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #thoma smut #thoma x reader smut #drugging tw #tw drugging #noncon tw #tw noncon #tw somnophilia #somnophilia tw

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kiachiako · 1 year

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carpe diem | l.hc

pairing | gamer!haechan x female!reader

synopsis | You know you’re in trouble when your heart starts beating a little faster around Lee Haechan, professional flirt and someone any of your friends would advise against falling for. Then why are you standing in front of his door at the dead of night, lured by his offer of games, marijuana, and quality time with the man himself?

content | gamer!haechan, coder!reader, fluff, angst, language warning, drug usage, suggestive

wc | 5.1k

song | let’s get lost — g-eazy ft. devon baldwin

a/n | wish i could put into words how much i adore the vibe in this fic :(( hope you enjoy it just as much and leave any and all feedback at the end, i love reading your thoughts <3 ly

[h__chan06, 11:23PM] come over

You glance over at your phone as it lights up next to you, letting your eyes adjust to the darkness as your attention is stolen from the code on your monitors. With a snap of your gum and a knowing smile, you return back to the task at hand after scanning the chat notification that disappears just as quickly as it came.

It’s 11pm, and you know your night has only just started; as a compsci uni student by day and someone’s whose late hours are reserved by more… underground jobs, you’re used to the twilight that accompanies you as you work. Seoul’s neon city lights illuminate your apartment on their own as your fingers fly across the keyboard in your lap, lips pursed as your gaze races over each line of code in concentration.

You sigh when your clean slate of java is interrupted by a call pop-up that inconveniently takes up the entirety of your main screen. You’re about to click the red decline button when another text pops up, h__chan06’s < u better pick up > pressuring you into accepting.

“Y/N,” Haechan’s voice echoes throughout your room, filling the previous silence with his raspy tone. It sounds like he just woke up, and frankly, you think it’s the most attractive thing you’ve heard all week.

You hum softly in response.

“I’m bored,” he complains lowly, the sound of rubbing fabric transmitting over your speaker letting you know that he’s probably swathed in blankets in true Haechan fashion. “Want you to come game with me.”

You look up through your eyelashes at the digital blue light time on your wall, groaning when you remember that you have a 2am shift in a few hours at the 24-hour PC Bang that you completely forgot about.

“You know I can’t game for shit, Haechan.”

You hear him scoff at that, his mumbled, “says the literal game hacker,” making you giggle. You swivel around in your comfy desk chair, pushing your way to one of the glass walls of your apartment.

“It’s just,” you continue, staring out into the night cityscape, “I’ve got code due tomorrow for Prof Jung and I really wanna finish it before my part-time at the internet cafe.”

And you might be a little scared of spending alone time with the boy that makes your heart flutter a bit too much, but you would never admit that out loud.

“Please, Y/N,” the boy pleads with you. “Umm, I also just rolled if you want some.”

Your ears definitely perk up at that. Even though your assignment isn’t finished and it’s never the best idea to show up high to your job, you find yourself shrugging on a zip-up and grabbing your keys before you can even register your own actions.

Only a few hours can’t hurt, right?

…

Wrong.

It’s been five minutes of standing in front of Haechan’s apartment door — which just happens to reside in the same complex as yours — and you’re starting to think this is a bad idea.

Actually, this was a bad idea starting from the very first time you were introduced to Lee Haechan.

You still remember that day so clearly in your head; Mark had texted you and your friend group to meet up at his new apartment just days before sophomore year of uni started a year ago, his title as your best friend winning your free time over immediately as you headed a few floors down from your own home with Jaehyun and Karina. You were elated to be in the same building with Mark Lee, because that meant free rides to your classes in his classy Mustang and not having to jog a few blocks down the campus residences for weekly rom com reruns anymore.

However, what you had not expected to see was a brand new face as the three of you entered the spacious apartment, an unfamiliar boy’s laugh ringing throughout the foyer as if he had known your friends for an entire lifetime.

You were introduced to Lee Haechan a few moments later, his relaxed nature and confident smile drawing everyone to him immediately. The integration of his presence into your circle of friends was almost instantaneous.

It turned out that Haechan was Mark’s new roommate (and new competition for the title of his best friend, unfortunately), and somehow had every girl on campus hanging on to the sweet words that dripped out of his pretty mouth; it was just too easy to get hooked on his saccharin voice. He was truthfully too attractive for his own good with his sharp wit and dazzling smile, his model-like dimensions and the headphones/hoodie duo that drove female classmates to their graves with his gamer boyfriend appeal.

It was mostly wariness that kept you from growing close with Haechan, not really sure of what to think of him and his flirty tendencies although he had been nothing but friendly with you in the presence of your now shared friends.

One particular night after exams, the lot of you were over at their place to unwind after such a mentally demanding past few months. A few of the boys were busy trying to concoct something edible in the kitchen (it was most definitely not edible, as you had the “pleasure” of experiencing a few hours later), while Karina and Taeyong were hooked up in the most intense match of Mario Kart you had ever seen in your life.

“Shit,” Mark had mumbled, groaning as his eyes raked over the contents of their empty fridge. “Y/N,” you lifted your head to glance at him as you snuggled up against Karina’s side on the couch, skirt splayed on the cushions while watching the game intently. “I told Haechan to buy the soju today, but this fucker can’t even remember his own address,” he stared pointedly at said boy, Haechan’s innocent expression throwing you off guard, “so I’m not surprised that he forgot the drinks. Can you run to the convenience store down the street real quick and get some?”

You reluctantly got up from your comfy spot on the couch and made your way over to Mark, pulling his free hoodie over your form and tracing a frowny face on his fore-arm as your best friend pulled you into an apology hug.

“He’ll go with you and pay,” Mark nodded to Haechan, who shrugged and grabbed his card before holding the front door open for you with a wicked grin. “Play nice, Hyuck.”

You shuffled a few steps behind him as the two of you made your way out of the apartment complex and through the city night’s light drizzle, hair dampening when you neglected to pull up your hood.

You remember glancing up to him in surprise when Haechan suddenly turned around and tugged you forward by the sleeve, rivulets of raindrops tipping his lashes and glistening down his neck as he pulled you into a run with a wide smile.

“Let’s race.”

It had come as a surprise to you how easily you complied, eyes creased in elation as the rain poured down on your sprinting forms. The two of you weaved through umbrella clad people hurrying to escape the oncoming storm, a boy you barely knew leading you through shallow puddles and blinking crosswalks.

You were soaked by the time you got to the 24-hour convenience store, expressions painted with pure giddiness as you stepped into its artificial lights. The cashier had eyed the two of you with the greatest disdain, his gaze burning into the small spot of growing water pooling at the entrance under your figures.

Following Haechan into the alcohol aisle, you startled when a soft ding of your phone interrupted your euphoric haze. An immediate grimace graced your face.

“What is it? A new assignment?” He leaned closer to peer at your phone, warm breath reaching your cheek as his shoulder brushed against yours. Noticing the shaky inhale you had taken, he leaned back, amused. “I make you nervous, don’t I.”

You looked at him, incredulous.

“Never,” you answered, mentally kicking yourself at how unsure you sounded. The butterflies that you felt like vomiting gave yourself away nonetheless. “I don’t even know you.”

Haechan raised an eyebrow at you before dragging a chair out at the little window table in the corner of the store. Patting the seat across from him, he poured you a shot of soju and brushed a wet strand of hair out of your eyes.

“Then let me.”

You had sat there with Haechan for far too long that night, discovering every little thing he was willing to give up: from his area of study (“I’ll give you my old Python notes for Prof Cho’s lectures,” he had offered. “As your resident game development major and a survivor of the infamous Cho experience, I hereby grant you the right to all of my past cheat sheets and tests) to his unwavering loyalty to grape juice of all things (“You monster.” You had simply taken one sip of your apple drink before pausing with your lips hovering over the straw, feeling absolutely violated with the kicked puppy look he was giving you. “Apple over grape? Monster.)

The two of you had returned to Mark and Haechan’s flat hours later than you were supposed to, the former blaming his roommate for distracting you because he knew Haechan and his tendencies much better than anyone else did. Jaehyun had immediately swept you away in a game of Jenga (you thought it was a mystery why he enjoys a children’s game so much, but is it really?), so you were left with no other chance to speak with Haechan that night, even though he would shoot you a secret smile every chance he got.

It never escalated further.

School resumed like normal and suddenly everyone was busy again. Sure, you and Haechan were still friendly, but you hung out with the other guys much more than you did with him. A part of you was just so unsure about the type of guy he really was; you heard of his midnight escapades far too often to think that he was ever sincere in any interaction with a girl, nonetheless with you. It seemed like the boy that had run with you in the thundering rain and shared his stance on grape juice with passion was simply a figment of your imagination, a fleeting moment among thousands for him. You weren’t hurt nor surprised, already warned of his flowery words that you assumed were customized for each pretty girl that had the fatal luck of meeting Lee Haechan.

But he never made a true advance on you. Whenever your friend group got together, it was just meaningless flirting: the kind that caused your heart to flare up that you desperately pleaded with it to not react to someone like that. It was a sort of game almost, the type where you joked around with him when the time came, but never enough that you would be left with him for more than ten minutes. He still scolded Mark for making fun of you and offered you to smoke with him on more occasions than you’d like to admit, but that was it. A few weak moments in your judgment when you would give in to his offer for help on coding assignments and a free blunt.

As those memories play in your head, you bring your fingers up to your temples in frustration with yourself. You’re always careful with your heart, and you know that his words do affect you in a way they really shouldn't. You’ve been trying to avoid Haechan lately because you think the flirting might have actually gotten to your head. And yeah, you’re probably hyper aware of the scent of his cologne and the mere way he carries himself, but you’re determined to never fall in the traps of your own rapid heartbeat and warming cheeks.

“So then why am I here-” your mumbles stop when the door to the apartment you’ve been standing in front of swings open, the culprit leaning against its frame as his eyes flick over to you.

“Because you get swayed too easily, angel,” Haechan grins at you, his sweatpants and oversized hoodie hanging off his figure so well that you actually think it’s unfair. “And c’mon. We all know that you’ve just been dying to see me.”

You just gape at him before he laughs and tugs you inside, hand reaching up to squish your cheeks together.

“Don’t do that,” you pout after a few moments, pushing his hands away as you feel your face warm.

“I couldn’t resist, love,” he drawls, a Cheshire like smile overtaking his visage as he gestures for you to follow him into the living room. You take a seat on the floor with your back against the couch as you watch him move around, picking up two game controllers from the console before flicking the TV on and returning to sit next to you. The glittering lights of Seoul’s nightlife casts an eerie glow on Haechan’s side profile, all the sharp lines and curves of his face highlighted as you observe him.

Curious, you pick up one of the controllers and fiddle with it before shifting your body towards him.

“Why’d you text me though? You have so many other friends that probably game better than I do.”

Haechan doesn’t take his eyes off the screen as he replies to your valid inquiry, patting the space next to him so you’d move closer.

“You’re the only one that lives near here besides Mark, who decided that late-night practicing for his drivers license test is more important than playing games with me,” he jokes, shooting you a small grin before booting up the game home screen.

Oh.

Wait, no. That’s perfectly logical, you think to yourself.

…then why am I disappointed?

You hum in understanding before looking back up at the loading game.

“Want a hit?” the boy next to you offers, holding out a rolled joint between his index finger and thumb that wasn’t there before. You nod slowly and he takes the initiative to slot it between your lips, fingers grazing your chin in the slightest as he lights the end for you. You take a long pull, closing your eyes and sitting back as your insides fill with warmth with an exhale. Handing the joint back to him, he brings it to his lips and lets the smoke snake out his mouth before dissipating throughout the living room. “You needed that, hmm?”

Your glazed eyes tell him all he needs to know as he starts the video game on his TV, fingers busy setting up your characters and controls on the home screen. You watch his hands in a trance, not realizing that you’ve spaced out until he snaps his fingers in front of your face.

“Thinking about me already, angel,” he teases, hiding his hands behind his back. You hit him lightly and reach for the joint again.

“Shush, Haechan.” He simply blows a smoke ring towards your face in retaliation before reaching over to click a button on your own controller as your vision clears.

“Look here,” he instructs, positioning his fingers over yours so that he can guide you through each symbol and its uses. His cold skin leaves goosebumps as he leaves his palms resting against the back of your own hand. “This red one means shoot, and this one will allow you to pick up things. You press the back of the controller here,” Haechan maneuvers your fingers with his slowly as he talks, “to move forward. Makes sense?”

You nod with wide eyes, still shivering at the contact of his hands on yours. Haechan takes notice of the little bumps against your wrist as his pointer finger rubs against the back of yours.

“Aww, Y/N,” he coos, scrunching his nose at you, “you're nervous.” You protest and pull your hands away from his grasp, failing to come up with a coherent response. He chuckles under his breath at your attempt to escape him, instead grasping your arm and making you sit impossibly close to him so that you can feel the warmth radiating off his body.

With a dreamy look in his eyes and another long, hooded gaze in your direction, he takes another puff before grabbing his own controller. Silver bracelets clinking on his wrist, he shoots you a small smirk before starting the game with one click and settling forward so he can concentrate.

“I’m gonna lose so badly,” you grumble, watching the screen as the world spawns around your two avatars. Your character already seems like it’s suffering, taking hit after hit from the boy next to yours as she crumbles in ten seconds flat. “Kinda hate you right now, Haechan. And you too,” you squint at your girl’s name, “Widowmaker. What kind of person would call their character Widowmaker…” you add on with a mutter, frowning at her. You miss Haechan glancing at you with a small smile and a look of adoration in his eyes.

“I’m betting on it, angel,” he replies to your first words with a snicker after a few seconds, entirely shameless as he completely destroys whatever’s occurring on the TV. He sticks his tongue out to wet his lips as he immerses himself completely in the game. “You’re gonna give me something if I win, no?”

“I- what? When did I ever…?” you mutter with confusion as Haechan jumps to his knees with a shout. You watch with dread as blood splotches appear in your vision and the hearts that indicate your number of lives blink to a null gray, the girl that was supposed to help you win getting hit straight in the chest with her multitude of weapons and abnormally short crop top — you don’t know how her outfit was supposed to be of use, but you assumed that maybe Haechan’s character would have a moment of unclarity and propose or something.

“I won! And I even went easy on you, angel.”

And there it is in all its glory. A bright, green “You Win!” mocking you on his side of the screen while yours just flashes red as your character sinks to the ground in despair.

“Uh uh, Haechan,” you protest, turning towards him with your hands reaching for his controller. “We did not have a win-lose system set up and you know that I’m bad at this.” The said boy merely leans forward and taps his head with his finger pretending to think.

“I’ll give you my car for a week if you win,” he proposes, reaching for the controllers again. Your eyes widen.

“No fucking way,” you say, grinning as you lean forwards. “A month.”

“Two weeks, angel. Don’t push it.”

“A month.”

Haechan slumps against the couch, refusing to look at your pleading face and adorable expression.

“Fine,” he grumbles, defeated. “A month.”

“Yes!” you exclaim, shuffling in your spot with glee and crossing your legs to get ready for the next round. You are desperate for that car; having it would mean no more running to catch the train at 9pm after a botched lecture from your professors who seem to not know what a clock is. And, of course, midnight garlic bread runs without being scared shitless of what could be following you in the dark. “Need to focus…”

Haechan’s gaze zeros in on you, your tongue poking out of your tongue in concentration and your eyes enlarged with a newfound eagerness.

“Haa…” he breathes out, “cute.” You ignore your warming cheeks after hearing his words and nudge him to start the game, the soft look on his face catching you off guard to the point where you have to look away.

With a beeping countdown, another match of Overwatch starts and you’re left in the most concentrated state you’ve been since your last phase of, “I’m-going-to-get-all-perfect-marks-in-school-this-semester” (which isn’t actually saying much because you did not in fact get perfect marks that semester). With your gaze locked on your character and hands poised on your controller, you maneuver yourself carefully through the rotted terrain and hide from Haechan’s lingering avatar.

“I’m not letting you win,” you warn him with your most menacing tone, making your on-screen character do a 360 before shooting a warning shot into the far distance.

“Mm?” he hums, clicking rapidly on his own controller before turning to you, “you can’t win with me, angel.” You still at his words, scared to say something that will give away how truly nervous Haechan makes you. There’s something more in that sentence that you just can’t pinpoint.

After a moment of staring off into space, you regain consciousness and shake your head to clear your mind. “Focus…”

And that’s when you see it; Haechan’s avatar is crouched on top of a crumbling building at the corner of your vision, waiting for the perfect moment to shoot you down from above. He’s got his weapon aimed directly at you and the mere size of the thing scares you — and you’re not even the one being shot.

With dozens of quick solutions and methods running through your head to get out of your impending death, the worst possible thing you could do crosses your mind as you spy Haechan’s finger press down on the shoot button.

Just do it. You want to win? Just do it.

“Fuck it,” you whisper, pushing his controller out of his hands.

“Why would you-” he starts before stilling, the feeling of your fingers clutched around the fabric of his sweatshirt and being pulled in close to you shocking him into silence.

You let yourself lose all rational sense as you give him a tiny kiss, your body shuddering slightly at the simple feeling of his lips on yours. Only meaning to stall him for a few seconds, you reluctantly pull back and turn back to the screen to finish off the game. With one small click and a few splatters of blood on your display, you jump up with excitement as the “You Win!” finally appears for your victorious all-kill.

Before you can even turn to Haechan and taunt him with your victory, he twists his body so he can hover over you, pinning your wrists in one hand and bringing the other up to your face. You stare up at him with wide eyes with your noses just centimeters from each other, and you’re so close that you could connect your lips once again if you really wanted to. And you really want to.

Before you can fully process the position the two of you are in however, Haechan brushes his thumb against your cheekbone and switches his gaze between your eyes.

“You think you can just do that and not face the consequences? Hmm?” he whispers just next to your ear, his warmth breath reaching your neck as you shiver slightly under his touch. “Use your words.”

“The game?” you mumble dumbly, unable to pull anything coherent from your brain at the moment.

“I don’t care about the fucking game, Y/N,” Haechan replies, one of his hands smoothly moving up to hold the back of your neck. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment… you’re going to make it up to me, angel.”

With that, he fastens his lips to yours once again, letting out a small groan when he pulls you into his lap and presses your body into his. His kisses are deep and hard as he pulls you in by the waist and slips your zip up off your shoulders, the feeling of his tongue slipping into your mouth making your head dizzy.

The taste of marijuana and raspberry lingers in your mouth when he pulls away briefly to take a breath, soon after tilting his head so he can deepen the kiss even more. His little sounds go straight to your core, the moans he lets out increasing when you lean into him to slide your hands down the skin of his neck and shoulders. The way he moves is mesmerizing under your touch.

You throw your head back when one of his hands finds its way up to your throat, his fingers lightly wrapping around the base as you swallow in pleasure. He’s such a good kisser that you can feel yourself drown in his movements, delicate and sensual. His teeth nip little bites on your jawline, and you already know that the red blooming all over your skin will stay there for weeks with how much pressure he’s applying on your skin.

Making his way back to your mouth, he graces the flesh of your lips with his tongue before tugging gently. The little sound you make in reaction has him reeling, pulling away to put his forehead against yours.

“Want more?” Haechan inquires with his infamous smirk, nuzzling his nose against your skin as you sit straddling his lap.

Barely able to respond, you mumble, “more,” before chasing after his sweet kisses once again. You could do this all day.

“Ah ah,” he shushes you with his finger, letting the tip sneak between your lips just a smidge before wrapping his arms around you and hugging your body to his. “Didn’t mean to get you addicted, baby.” And with a sweet kiss on the corner of your mouth, he holds you in his warm embrace and rocks you back and forth, refusing to let you taste him. “Wanna keep you like this.”

You comply, relaxing as you sink into his lap in utmost comfort with your arms around his neck and face tucked in the crook of his neck.

You don’t even notice when your eyes start to flutter close, a sudden tiredness taking over your figure. You’ve always struggled with insomnia, but you fade into dreamland as soon as Haechan lays you down with him, hand rubbing soothing circles across your back.

Even you can’t deny it as much as your heart wants to; you feel at home in his embrace.

…

You wake up groggy to a blaring in your left ear, the piercing sound of your ringtone forcing you to consciousness. Rolling over to reach for your phone, you don’t even look at the caller ID before sliding the green accept button and holding the device against your ear.

You can’t get a single word out before a familiar voice blares out of the speaker, making you flinch away from the sound immediately.

“Sunshine! Did you finally get with Haechan?” Mark talks excitedly from the other side of the line, his hyper tone evident without seeing his expression.

“Good morning to you too- Wait, how did you know I was with Haechan last night?” you say incredulously, suddenly very awake. “How’d your permit test go anyway?” You hear Mark scoff at your question in response.

“Y/N. Did you think I really didn’t have my license already,” he says with exasperation. “Do you not exploit my driving skills every other day or am I going insane?”

“I mean kind of, yeah. With the way you drive…”

“Oh, fuck both of you,” Mark laughs out. “Haechan’s lies never make any sense.”

“Lies?” you mumble, confused. Why did Haechan lie to you about Mark anyway? You’re not sure where you lie in Haechan’s spectrum of feelings, but you hope your heart won’t get crushed with how hard you fell just a few hours ago.

Mark sighs audibly.

“Mm, he wanted the apartment empty yesterday and he’s talked about you since forever, Y/N-ie, really. Hope you know he’s very serious about getting to know you,” you gape at your phone at Mark’s confession, surprised. No way Lee Haechan, downright playboy and professional flirt is interested in you in the way you’ve been falling for him too — and suppressing it.

But with the way he cared for me last night, you think to yourself. He seemed so sincere.

“He’s stopped seeing other girls for a few months now,” Mark adds on, easing the worries he knows are running laps in your mind. “He’s so serious about you, Y/N, I can tell you that much.”

You let that information sink in as you sit back in your own bedsheets, hands rubbing your arms with the morning chill as you let the thought of Haechan and you marinate.

Just as your doubts begin to surface again, you hear a delicate knock on your apartment door before the door swings open and reveals a familiar boy standing in the hallway.

Haechan grins at you from behind a pile of fluffy winter blankets in his arms, taking your growing smile as an invitation to enter. He goes straight for your bed, settling into the warm spot next to you and letting his body snuggle into your side. Taking the fleece blankets, he wraps you in the fabric before placing a shy kiss on your temple, your cheeks blushing rose at his adoring actions.

“My angel.”

...

xoxo

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hopefulromances · 9 months

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Dude first of can I say I bloody love your writing second of all I just read that piece of reader and Jamie watching finding nemo and I had an idea. What if Jamie is watching when Harry met Sally for movie night with the team and it literally gives him the biggest mindblown lightbulb moment that he’s in love with the reader aka his best friend of over 10 years. The ending of it always makes me cry.

This is crazy did you read my other drabble where Jamie and reader watch when Harry Met Sally (I love that movie) But I LOVE THIS idea.

The boys filed into the rec room, the chairs already set up for the boys to be able to watch whatever movie Ted picked out for tonight. You were in there, finishing setting up the projector cause lord knows that if you didn't do it Ted would never be able to figure it out.

"And there!" You finished, throwing your hands up in success. "All you have to do is press play."

"Well, now, thank you (Y/N), you've been a big help," Ted grinned. "Alright now, folks! Let's file in, get your seat we're gonna get started soon!"

"(Y/N)!" Jamie called over to you. You looked over at him and smiled and Jamie's heart about stopped. Sure he was in love with you. You were brilliant. But it wasn't like he would ever say anything and ruin the friendship you had. "Over here."

"Sorry, Jamie, I got work to do, won't be able to stay tonight," you told him walking towards the door. "But I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

You walked out of the door. Some of the team pat him on the shoulder sympathetically as they walked by. Was it really that. obvious? How could you not see it?

Jamie elected to slump down next to Sam and Isaac instead, unable to keep the pout off his face.

"It is alright, Jamie," Sam comforted, nudging him. "She's just busy tonight."

"Yeah! Anyone with eyes can see she's into you," Isaac agreed.

"Thanks, lads, but I think it's hopeless," Jamie grumbled.

"Alright, greyhounds, now!" Ted clapped his hands getting the attention up at the front. "Tonight we're watching a movie about friendship, and love, and how friendship and love walk a very dangerous line. But all you need is that one push to spill your guts."

"Fucks sake," Jamie muttered, adjusting his seat.

"And without further ado, When Harry met Sally!" Ted scurried out from in front of the projector. Jamie rolled his eyes and settled in for another rom com that he didn't enjoy because all he could think about is (Y/N),

But what surprised him was how great the movie was. The writing, the flirting, it was all so comparable to his own life. By the end of it, he was leaning forward in his seat as Billy Crystal rushed down the streets of New York to find Meg Ryan.

"I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."

Jamie felt him mind racing as he listened to that line. He thought about you and the butterflies that followed him around whenever you were near. The smile that lit up the room. The laugh that could save lives. He wanted to be with you and he wanted to be with you right now.

Just as the lights turned on, Jamie shot up out of his chair and raced out of the room. The rest of the boys cheered as he did.

Ted turned to Beard. "I reckon you owe me 10 pounds."

Meanwhile, Jamie was rushing to your room. When he arrived, he knocked fiercely on the door, not letting up until you opened it.

"Jamie? What on earth-"

"I love you," he blurted out. You eyes widened, trying to take in what he was saying. "I love you. Like I love the way you smile, I love the way you talk, I love the way you always seem to know what I want for lunch even though I don't know what I want for lunch."

"Jamie wha-"

"I love you," He repeated. "You know my hair dye brand, you know that I like the temperature in my house to be 18 degrees. Not 20, not 15, 18 degrees. I love you (Y/N)."

You were speechless. You couldn't form a thought into a word if you wanted to. You just looked back and forth between Jamie's eyes trying to decipher if this was a joke.

"(Y/N), I love you and when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you-"

"Want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible..." You finished the quote, smiling softly.

"I know this is sudden, and whatever, but I just... I need you to know."

"Jamie?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you kiss me now?"

"God, yes."

And he did. He kissed you. He kissed you quite a lot actually.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso show #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #drabble night #drabble #fluff

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landoom · 2 months

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F1 FANFICS REC LIST - Loscar - Part II

everything's gonna be fine (I got all my friends with me) (3808 words) by papayabrain Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: He’s pretty sure McLaren wouldn’t actually fire him, okay, but he still feels he has every reason to be scared shitless about the response. Coming out is never easy, but it is basically taboo in the world of motorsports. He’s more likely to get forced back in than allowed to be himself and he doesn’t even want to go fully public yet, neither does Logan. Or: Oscar wants to come out to his team; Lando, it turns out, is more than an ally; and Logan’s teammate, Alex, suggests a triple date in Monaco.

oOoOoOo

The Whipped Boyfriends Club (8457 words) by DamsInDistress Summary: This is how he’s gonna get sacked. Not because he messed up on track but because he’s an idiot who can’t stand seeing Oscar Piastri look like a sad puppy.

oOoOoOo

the red parts (14065 words) by miamis Rating: Explicit Summary: “But Logan is a Beta,” Oscar says, like this might be brand-new information. “Betas don’t have heats.” Lando shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine, mate.”

oOoOoOo

you make the rockin' world go round (2082 words) by nothingelsematters Rating: Explicit Summary: Oscar wants to give Logan a reward after his first race in F1. Logan already has some ideas.

oOoOoOo

galaxy collapse (somebody scream) (12699 words) by attraqtia Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: “Good morning Logan.” Oscar says as the first thing on the first day of testing over the radio and Logan returns back to his thoughts of screaming, almost vibrating out of his seat in excitement. Goes back to his year old promise of not doing anything stupid ten seconds into the season. Hopes that when the cameras catch his inevitable joy after he gets back to the garage it will be brushed off to just being glad to be back in the car, rather than anything else. OR: Logan is a smitten rom com protagonist, Oscar is the calm and collected love interest. Fred, Alex, and Liam are the Greek chorus that wants out of this mess.

oOoOoOo

Kachow (And Other Ways to Say I Love You) (7961 words) by SyrupLime Rating: Mature Summary: Oscar finds him after Zandvoort curled up in his comforter watching Cars. The only surprising thing about the scene is how he got a DVD player within four hours. -- Sometimes Logan and Oscar find each other after bad results. Sometimes they find each other after good ones. But every time, one thing stays the same: they end up watching the Cars movies.

oOoOoOo

show me how you show off (6078 words) by miamis Rating: Explicit Summary: “I don’t spend a lot of time on boats, mate,” Oscar dismisses, shaking his head. He feigns an immense amount of interest in the peeling edge of his bottle’s label, picking at it with a clammy thumb. “Maybe you should think about it, then,” Logan says, all-confident. Oscar finally spares a look at him, finding Logan’s far-away gaze just as entrancing as he shouldn’t. “Bent over port side, sun all over you…” he trails off, making an odd gesture, and adds, “it’s like heaven, man.”

MASTERPOST

#f1 #formula 1 #oscar piastri #logan sargeant #logan/oscar #loscar #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf #f1 rpf fic #formula 1 rpf #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fic rec #fic rec #fic rec list #rec list

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dragonomatopoeia · 4 months

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Air's Bizarre Christmas Rom-Com Reclist

I am a fan of Romance Media, but even more importantly, a fan of mediocre art. As such, I have watched a lot of christmas romcoms. I have in fact watched Too Many christmas romcoms. While freelancing between jobs, I would put them on in the background as mindless noise to keep me company while writing copy.

This means that I am uniquely positioned to create a rec list of christmas rom-coms that meet a very specific set of criteria:

Is the movie interesting enough to make me actually Watch it instead of half-listening to it in the background?

Are elements of the plot bizarre enough to make me yell "WHAT" at the screen?

Would I rewatch the movie in the company of friends?

Any movie that fulfills all three of these criteria is eligible to join those privileged few, the elite ranks of My Christmas Rom-Com Rec List

A Chance for Christmas (2021)

Synopsis: "Influencer Christina Chance gets the opportunity of a lifetime: a lucrative sponsorship from the brand of her dreams. However, she soon discovers she's stuck in a time warp where the same Christmas Eve repeats itself over and over again." Commentary: This is a Tubi original, and it lives up to all the mess that status bestows. That established, my favorite parts of this movie are that the main character and love interest have the same kind of obsessive, perfection-driven marketing brain poison that lead them to try to min-max a time loop and learn zero lessons for the vast majority of the movie. There's a kind of frenetic, self-absorbed energy to each of the characters that's fascinating to watch. At one point the main character attacks a man dressed like Santa in an act of misdirected rage, and the love interest holds her concerned family back while yelling "SHE NEEDS THIS LET HER GO SHE NEEDS THIS". Also, the kids are actual characters with inner lives instead of props! There are structural issues with the movie, and in my perfect world, the protagonist would quit her influencer job, but overall, I enjoyed it.

A Christmas Movie Christmas (2019)

Synopsis: "A Christmas movie fanatic and her cynical sister wake up to find they are now the stars of a Christmas movie." Commentary: I have a soft place in my heart for scripts written by actors who have been trapped in this Christmas purgatory for years. There's a certain sensitivity to The Way Words Work that is nonexistent in most of these films. Especially since this industry relies on Never Retaking Any Line Read Ever because these movies are basically made on an assembly line. That is to say, this movie is a love letter and a list of grievances wrapped together in a metatextual bow. All of its jabs at the genre feel like they come from a place of familiarity rather than scorn, and the actors are obviously having fun. Line deliveries and elements of blocking feel like they have actual character work put into them, and one of the love interests feels like a Christmas Homunculi with no understanding that a world other than snowglobes and sugar cookies exists. But on purpose this time! If he encountered a turtle flipped on its back, he'd start feeding it christmas cookies, and the movie is Very Aware of This. It's fun.

Baby It's Cold Inside (2021)

Synopsis: "When a travel agent up for a promotion is directed to forget her tropical vacation and instead visit the world-famous Ice Hotel, she discovers that her sacrifices are more than compensated." Commentary: I'll be honest. This one is mostly here because the editing choices made me feel like I was losing my mind. I ended up dragging my roommate down to the living room at multiple points so that they could witness the same thing I was seeing. The jarring cuts, dropped story beats, and lines that lead nowhere make for an unforgettable viewing experience... except for the part where I have forgotten literally every other element of the movie. Except for the inexplicably evil love rival who becomes niceys at the end. I like her. Girlboss. This isn't even the only Hallmark movie that was set at and filmed at Hôtel de Glace in 2021. Truly the most Hallmark movie on this list.

Christmas Perfection (2018)

Synopsis: "Darcy's been striving for the perfect Christmas since childhood; thanks to a magical figurine her dream finally comes true." Commentary: I have already written up my thoughts on Christmas Perfection in EXTENSIVE detail here. Needless to say, I watch it every year. What a fascinating text. What an odd timeloop. It should have been gay.

Snowmance (2017)

Synopsis: "Each year Sarah builds her "Snow Beau" snowman with her best friend Nick. After another breakup, she begins to wonder if she'll ever find her own true love. A little Christmas magic brings her Snow Beau to life." Commentary: I cannot believe the snowman actually came to life. The snowman came to life and he's not even the primary love interest. Nick sucks in a normal possessive childhood friend love interest way, fuck Nick, everyone hates Nick, sure, but THE SNOWMAN CAME TO LIFE? THE SNOWMAN CAME TO LIFE AND HE TRIES TO SELL THE PROTAGONIST'S HOUSE!!!!! SHE LIVES THERE!!!!! This movie made me scream out loud multiple times. It is not good. Please watch it.

Timeless Love (2019)

Synopsis: "Megan wakes up from a coma in a hospital. The husband and 2 kids she just dreamed about aren't real. At her first job interview, she meets Thomas from her dream - or was it a vision years into the future?" Commentary: Listen to me. Listen. The establishing scenes of this movie are played completely straight. For the first chunk of the movie, it feels like this is going to be a dramatic, serious movie in a way that Hallmark Christmas Romcoms fundamentally are not, which makes it EVEN WEIRDER when it suddenly pivots into your classic nonsense. It entrances me. Who let this happen? Why is the medical professional who is assigned to help Megan with the trauma of losing her coma-construct family and recover from being in a literal coma cartoonishly evil? Why was the information Megan obtained from the coma dream accurate to real life? Why is she suddenly okay with losing her coma children as soon as she found the real-world version of her coma-husband? What a fascinating text. I have no clue what to do with it. But maybe you do. I'm folding it into your hands. Whatever happens next is your decision

#rec list #christmas #christmas ment #i didn't put the netflix movies on here everyone knows about those and they're trying too hard to be weird #where's the naive camp i ask you

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pika-ace · 2 years

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TWST Disney Knowledge Yuu Part 3

Part 1 ; Part 2

Trey: We'll use Walrus brand Young Oyster sauce

Yuu: NO WAY, those baby oysters deserved better!

Ace: Are you okay?

Yuu: Do you know how much that damn scene traumatized me?!

Trey: Okay okay, I was kidding anyway!

—————

(Yuu arguing with the teachers)

Vargas: Is that a threat, pipsqueak?

Yuu: Try me, Gaston >:(

Crewel: Such a disobedient pup!

Yuu: Go drive off a bridge, Cruella >:(

Trein: I won’t tolerate disobedience here!

Yuu: Let’s see you stop me, Lady Tremaine >:(

Ace: Hey, I’m all for insults but why do you call them that?

Yuu: Those guys are real bastards where I come from

—————

Azul: Collect a photo of a school field trip of Prince Rielle’s class

Yuu: Rielle…? …*realizes* Oh my god! XD Is he a redhead? Tell me this Rielle is a redhead!

Azul: How did you-

—————

(If Yuu was left behind after the monster attack during Vargas camp)

Yuu: Alright, who’s not dead? Sound off!

Ruggie: Wait to be morbid…

—————

(At the fireworks festival)

Trey: I got these hourglasses for Ace and Deuce

Yuu: Do they turn big and trap you inside of them?

Trey: What-

Yuu: Good.

—————

(Monkey steals things from tourists)

Yuu: ABU, YOU LITTLE SHIT, I SHOULD'VE KNOWN!

Kalim: Who is-

—————

(In the Tea Garden)

Yuu: Hey, do any of these mushrooms make you shrink or grow?

Cater: …

Deuce: …

Ace: …Why the FUCK would they-

—————

Neige: *appears*

Yuu: Oh my god, the Disney Princesses DO exist here! O_O

—————

Riddle: Is the tea ready?

Trey: Yes, there’s even a dormouse asleep in the teapot

Yuu: *out loud and on purpose* Is one of the rules that we’re not allowed to say CAT? >:3c

Dormouse: *GOES APESHIT*

Riddle: WHY WOULD YOU-

—————

Yuu: I wonder if this world has Siri?

Vil: *to phone* Mira Mira, who’s the most beautiful one of all?

Yuu: *bursts out laughing*

—————

Riddle: A toast; very merry unbirthday!

Heartslabyul: A very merry unbirthday!

Yuu: Aww, we don’t get to sing the song? :(

Cater: What song…?

—————

(Not Disney related, but I thought it was funny)

(During Ghost Marriage Giant Chubby fight)

Yuu: HEY! STAY-PUFT MARSHMALLOW MAN! Why don't you pick on someone your own size!!

Rook: The things that come out of your mouth...

((Bonus))

Chubby and Eliza: (fall in love)

Ace: Huh????

Yuu: Seriously, has NO ONE here seen a rom-com?

And now, Disney Knowledge Yuu: Musical Edition

(While cleaning Ramshackle)

Yuu: *starts singing Whistle While you Work*

(Finishes song and finds they’re already done)

Yuu: …Holy shit, did I just musical montage myself?

Ghosts: *lowkey terrified*

—————

(At Heartslabyul)

Yuu: *singing* Painting the roses red...painting the roses red...

Ace: *softly* What are they doing???

Deuce: *softly* I don't know...!!

—————

All seven Blot Monster Dwarves: (attacking the students)

Ace: What do we do??

Yuu: ...*sings* HEIGH HOOOOOOOOO!!

Everyone: ...

Blot Dwarves: ......heigh hoooooo...!

Yuu: Holy shit, that actually worked...! (leads the monsters away with the song Heigh-Ho)

Vil: What...did I just witness...?

Cater: *filming the whole thing* I have no idea...

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #twst yuu #yuu #trey clover #riddle rosehearts #cater diamond #ace trappola #deuce spade #disney #coach vargas #divus crewel #professor trein #TWST fireworks festival

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tulip-in-a-cup3 · 6 months

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Is the Romantic comedy is still relevant?

Like many, I have spent countless endless hours watching romantic comedies. At one point they were the only sort of film I consumed (a very dark period) and also one of the many sparks of my love of film. But as I grew, changed and discovered all sorts of different films I next to completely forgot all about rom-coms only really revisiting them when I feel the need to turn my brain off and watch pretty people do things on screen. But now when I do turn one on I can't help but but notice how painfully sexist and unproductive they can be.

The romantic comedy is a very popular offshoot of the classic comedy genre. Rom-coms have been around since the time of Shakespeare's A Midsummer's night dream. The romantic comedy focuses on the romantic relationship between two characters. The movie usually follows a fairly basic structure with the characters meeting, falling for each other, facing some sort of adversity, and ultimately having a happy ending with them together. That's not to say some don’t break out of this with 500 days of summer being a perfect example. This genre of film became increasingly popular particularly among women because it was one of the only times that women were at the forefront of a movie. They were also easy, quick, and incredibly cheap to make. Allowing them to make massive profits when it came to the box office. Although romcoms did see a significant decline during the late 2000s and early 2010s we have seen a steady increase in them since the rise of streaming platforms producing their movies. On these streaming platforms, romantic comedies have managed to find an audience but that poses the question: are romantic comedies still relevant today?

Most romantic comedies tend to all have main characters that are white, cis-gendered, heterosexual, skinny, and Neurotypical. The rom-con never really showed the range and forms love could take. Rom-coms also sprinkled in this lovely layer of misogynistic undertones. Films like How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days depict women as “emotional, irrational and clingy” and that all these behaviours do is drive a man away, men of course being the complete opposite of these behaviours. Bride wars also show women in questionable ways with the leads completely turning on each other simply because of a wedding venue. Reinforcing the stereotype that marriage is a woman’s number one endgame. Even my personal favourite Bridget Jones isn’t immune to the problems laced throughout rom-coms. Bridget acted like her very healthy 136lb made her disgustingly fat or the fact she felt her whole life was a failure due to her being SINGLE of all things. There are many more examples I don't wish to get into that show how Rom-coms treat women. But does this mean we need to throw them in the bin completely?

No of course not it was an unproductive question in the first place. rom-coms can be misogynistic, but they are also changing take for example movies like To All The Boys I've Loved Before which has an asian american protagonist or Crush on Disney Plus which has a lesbian lead and follows multiple lgbtq characters (although it did get next zero marketing and only me and like three other people know it about subject for another day). The rom-com is not the same anymore just like how the landscape of film has changed. People are demanding representation and slowly we are receiving it. The rom-com is also one of the only genres that is dominated by women and tearing it down and ripping into does in some regard play into the demonization of all things enjoyed by women. Rom-coms are still relevant because love is still relevant. We just need to see it done in a way that reflects the variety of love we have and doesn't reinforce outdated stereotypes about women OR men. Rom-coms bring a lot of joy and fun that cinema needs and branding them as not relevant is moving backwards.

#movie #movie review #cinemetography #movies #film #filmmaking #500 days of summer #bridget jones diary #bridget jones #how to lose a guy in 10 days #movie critic #feminism #to all the boys i've loved before #crush

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anonymoushouseplantfan · 9 months

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Lol, posting this even though I’m feeling paranoid because a week ago an anon asked me what I thought her rebrand should look like and I said she should go full coastal grandmother style and have more fun outings with friends.

Then she immediately had “sightings” at the Barbie movie and the TS concert, and now she’s in beiges and blues. Coincidence? I hope so.

But I don’t think it’s a bad strategy. I’m guessing she has a deal with that calming patch company, and that’s not a bad partnership for someone who’s main claim to fame is a high-profile suicide attempt. Going the woo-woo route is also a good idea because she’s very articulate but not very smart. She can’t discuss policy or complicated ideas, but she can do a mean wellness word salad. Can she compete with Gwyneth, though? I think not. I think she’s better off aiming for a less rarefied clientele than Goop’s.

I would advise her to tone down the luxury brands because these many labels for a casual visit screams rabid insecurity. She needs fewer items and some mid-level brand deals.

She also need to narrow her target. The Barbie and TS leaks increase her SEO, but that’s not her target audience. She should focus her press on books, wine, and other areas that interest the wealthy middle-aged women she’s targeting. Barbie, TS, and the rom com she’s working on skew too young. She needs to hit that Eat Pray Love demographic. She should get a good market segmentation report done.

But not a bad start. Definitely better than what she had before.

Meanwhile, Harry is now dedicating his life to charity. So much for Hollywood domination.

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passivenovember · 11 months

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Disaster hits on the thirteenth day.

Really, if Billy cared to get technical, disaster hits five minutes before the fourteenth day. Verging on a long weekend.

It’s all detail.

He’s shitfaced to celebrate the full stop of an insane work week, he’s exhausted but floating in that perfect little space of cross-fade where he’s just happy to be barefoot watching Animal Planet in his living room, and Steve’s shitfaced because Billy is, and they’re still freshly moved into their brand new apartment when Steve drops a bomb.

“Robin,” Steve hiccups, sprawled like a newborn deer on the couch with M&M dust stuck to his lip, “Robin’s gonna set me up,” He says.

Billy itches for a cigarette but he promised Steve he’d stop smoking them. They’re adults now, in this brand-new apartment, and adults have to think about things like gum disease and lung cancer. They’re not as young as they used to be so he chews on his thumbnail instead. His brain pokes at Steve’s words with a stick and wonders if they’ll wiggle their consonants at him, raising one foot to reveal webbed membra.

“Hmm,” Billy says in the meantime.

“I told her not to,” Steve says distantly. He flips his feet over his head, heels hitting so hard that their bong rattles on the coffee table. “I tried to get her to stop but. She wouldn’t listen.”

Billy rights the bong with an uninterested hand. “‘Course not.”

“She’s evil.”

“She’s a lesbian,” Billy tries, shrugging his shoulders at Steve, like, what’re you gonna do, right? W.L.W.

But Billy’s arm wrestled Buckley enough times. Seen her chop and carry firewood on one shoulder just as often as she cries over rom coms, so he’s not so fucking stupid that he’d really believe lesbianism is the root of all evil, but Steve giggles anyway.

And that’s worth it.

Billy smiles to himself, smug as a bug in a rug for getting Steve to laugh like that.

“She is a lesbian,” Steve says, scooting along the couch until his head plops like wet dough into Billy’s lap. “She’s dating Heather.”

“Heather,” Billy says, tasting her name on his tongue. Hairspray and lemon drop shots. College years.

“Heather Feather,” Steve says, laughing to himself, “It’s so weird.”

“How’s it weird?”

“Just, like. They orbited each other in high school. Like we did, y’know?”

Billy doesn’t know. But his heart stops and kickstarts all in the same second. Runs wild with the possibility that Steve means what Billy hopes he does.

Heather and Robin. Robin and Heather.

Steve and Billy could be like that, someday.

Steve pokes at his chest. “You know what I mean, Bills?”

Billy says, “Yeah,” so smart that Steve nods and chews on his lower lip until it gets swollen like a summer strawberry.

Billy’s heart thumps, jumping its own battery.

He loves this boy.

Fuck, has he loved this boy for years--

Billy fiddles with two silky strands of Steve’s hair. Tries to braid two pieces of hair together and fails miserably. Steve almost purrs, rolling his head against Billy’s thigh until his crown grazes Billy’s very interested dick.

And Billy’s used to sporting a half-chub around Steve. It’s not so bad, anymore. It was a lot harder to deal with before he learned about tucking his cockhead into the waistband of his jeans but now, on the couch in his lazy sweats, smoking pot in their brand new very adult apartment when Steve could’ve easily moved into a place of his own now that they’re out of college--

“Heather gets what she wants,” Steve says. In awe.

Billy thinks about turtles without a shell, shriveled and dying, to make his dick calm down.

“Yeah,” Billy mumbles, “She’s the princess.”

“Thought I was the princess?” Steve wiggles on the couch until Billy can feel his warm, schnapps-y breath against his belly. His eyes are big and wet and if Billy didn’t know any better he’d think Steve was a second from bursting into tears and that.

Does nothing to help Billy’s situation.

“Hey,” Billy says, keeping Steve down, “You’re my princes. THE princess, right? The Queen.”

“The King,” Steve says, smug.

“That Brat,” Billy tells him. He tugs on Steve’s hair and the sound he makes goes right to Billy’s dick.

And.

Suddenly they’re two seconds from Billy stabbing up through Steve’s skull, throbbing and wet--

“Sorry,” Steve says, smacking a hand over his mouth, “When I’m drunk I get--”

“--It’s alright--”

“--Shit, sorry,” Steve tries to sit up, cheeks red, but Billy holds him down with a gentle, firm hand.

“It’s alright, Steve,” Billy says. He’s pitching a tent and if Steve sits up right now-- “We’ve been roommates since we were eighteen years old.”

“We’re only twenty-two--”

“Yeah, and I’ve had a front-row seat to four New Years Eves, three big breakups, that semester you were worried about telling your parents you were switching from business to early childhood ed--”

“--My God--”

“I’m just sayin’ your star quality wore off pretty quick.” And turned into a bone-aching, heart-stopping, knee-trembling Disney Prince Level of Heartthrob pheromone that Steve spews like a rogue sprinkler.

Billy’s kind of obsessed with it. With Steve.

Billy sinks lower on the cushion, thighs spreading so Steve’s gotta shuffle away. “What’s Robin setting you up for? Summer camp instructor at the Y, or something?”

“That’d be so cool, actually.”

Billy smirks, “Working with kids?”

“Yeah, teaching them about the recorded history of macaroni art, catching fireflies, going to the pool--”

“You’re insane.”

Steve blinks, eyes big and hurt. “Why, because I love kids?”

“Well. Yeah?” Billy deadpans, tugging on Steve’s earlobe. “It’s okay to love kids a normal amount but when you spend nine months out of the year teaching the brats to read while they cover the walls in Sharpie so you lose your deposit--”

Steve giggles and Billy tries not to preen like a fucking exotic bird.

“--Why the fuck would you sign up to spend your two and a half months of PTO with more kids?”

“I’m not spending my summer vacation as a YMCA camp counselor, Billy.”

“Nice,” Billy says, “Because if you were I was gonna say that dusting off that same tired art circle lesson plan for the next unassuming group of brats is probably the first sign of insanity--”

Steve smacks Billy’s stomach, settling in with his bare feet propped on the arm of the couch. “You’re the Wicked Bitch of the Midwest.” He determines. Like he likes it.

Loves it.

“How’d you know what my lesson plans look like?” Steve peers up at him, smile soft and eyes warm like the center of a chocolate cupcake fresh from the oven.

Billy grins back, running his fingers through Steve’s hair until all the softness in his eyes melts away, “If it’s not a classroom of 14 strangers what’s left for Robin to set you up with?”

“A date,” Steve says.

And.

Billy must turn to dust on the spot. His face probably cracks like the surface of a mirror, his fingers ground to the bone so he can feel the rattling timbre of Steve’s heartbeat as he waits to see what’s going to happen.

“Say something,” Steve insists. Like he knows what that news means to Billy, and. He’s hoping it isn’t true.

Billy breathes deeply through his nose, but it feels like his airways have closed like summer roads, little red signs cluing construction.

Steve sits up, Billy’s fingers slipping from his hair. He smooths it back into place. It’s wild. It pops up again like a spring-loaded toy. Like a jack in the box.

Billy says, “Who’s the lucky guy,” flat and fragile because his windpipe is being crushed under the weight of unshed emotion.

Steve doesn’t hear it. His face hardens. “I dunno who he is,” Steve says, “That’s the point of a setup--”

“--you didn’t say it was a blind date, how am I supposed to know--”

“--it doesn’t fucking matter, alright?” Steve swings his feet to the floor, elbows to knees so Billy can’t see his face, only the angry red vein that thumbs blood through his neck to his brain. “I thought. I thought I would tell you--”

“And what?” Billy demands.

Steve turns, eyes like a summer storm. Muddy and swamped. He’s breathing like he just ran a race. Lost the gold. “I thought i would tell you about the date, and. I thought you were gonna say something.”

Billy sits, frozen and terrified, “Steve--”

Steve gets up. He grabs his keys from the bowl on the coffee table, tugs his shoes on by the front door, and slams out of the house.

Billy doesn’t know why he couldn’t say it.

Anything.

So he drinks. He drinks and watches the door and tries to figure out what he’ll say when, someday, it opens and Steve is there cloaked in sunlight.

Really, it’s Robin’s fault so he calls Heather, clutching a bottle of whiskey by the neck to keep himself in his place against the wall by the telephone.

Robin answers. “Hello?” She says. And she’s high. Billy knows she’s high because they went to college together.

“Put Feather on,” He demands because if he has to listen to Robin’s voice he’ll stick his head in the oven and end it all.

“Are you drunk?”

“Are you a bitch?”

“God, you’re such an asshole--” Robin starts, but someone yanks the phone away.

“Billy baby,” Heather says, and Billy tries to not immediately burst into tears at the sound of her voice, scratchy from smoking too much.

He fails.

In the background, someone’s grumbling under their breath. Someone else is shushing them.

Steve is at Heather and Robins because. Of course he is, and. Billy doesn’t want to intrude but they’re his lesbians too, alright? They’re all friends. Best friends. Billy has just as much a right to run to their safety as Steve does, and--

“Billy, what’s wrong?” Heather asks. For once in her life she sounds worried. Tired.

Billy wants to tell her everything.

He’s in love.

Steve wants Billy to be in love with him, and Billy is in love with him but he couldn’t say it and now--

“Do you want me to come over?”

Billy thumps his forehead against the wall. “Feather May, ‘M drunk.”

Heather pulls away from the receiver to whisper something at Steve and Robin. Distantly, he imagines all tree of them crowding around the telephone, anxious to hear what he’s going to say like this is the 1940s and Billy’s the President of The World, making a speech that will really change things, and not.

This. Whatever he is right now.

Pathetic. Smarmy little sack of shit--

“You’re not a sack of shit, Bills,” Heather says, shushing him. “You’re just scared, that’s all--”

“Makes me a sack ah shit, Heath.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Someone’s mumbling again. It sounds like Steve.

Steve, when he’s at the breakfast table reading the paper to himself quietly. Steve, his head tilted close to a museum plaque at that shitty little pioneer museum in the valley, reading to Billy because Billy was too stubborn to do it himself. Steve, whispering into the receiver in the middle of the night, every night, when he was studying abroad during their last semester of junior year--

“Is,” Billy tries, as the room trips over itself. “Is Steve there?”

He is. Heather doesn’t have to tell him. Steve is everywhere, written in the sky and on diner tops and scrawled like graffiti over stop signs.

“Yeah,” Heather says. Solemn.

And Billy’s never heard his witch bitch sound solemn before so he starts sniffling again, worried that this means Steve’s never gonna come home because Billy’s afraid.

“Can he hear me?”

“Yeah,” Heather says, and.

Billy pushes away from the wall. Wants to stand on his own two feet for this. “I don’t want you to go on a blind date, Steve. Or a set up, or. Whatever. Because I want to watch T.V. with you. And we just signed our brand new lease, like, yesterday and we haven’t even unpacked yet and I thought I could make pancakes. We could fight over who gets the biggest room, or we could move into the biggest room together, like--”

“--Billy--”

“Not in twin beds. Not like those couples from the 1960s but like. Lovers. We could make it our home, and you could read the paper to me out loud on Sunday’s, and I could brush your hair because your hair is so soft, Steve. I want a pillow and a sweater and a blanket made of your hair, I want--”

“--Billy, stop--”

“I want to live inside you. Forever. In this house, inside of you, beside you, on top of you, I want. You. I love you.” Billy says, from the floor.

He sat down.

Somewhere in the middle of that he sat down, and the floor is nice. Steve should be here with him.

"I can move out,” He says. Like. Problem solved, and. The line goes silent, everyone holding their breath, so Billy takes another swig from the bottle and clarifies, heart breaking, “I don’t want Steve to go away.”

No one says anything.

Billy tries not to cry, again.

Fails.

“I don’t want him to never come home,” Billy says, wrapping himself in the phone cord, somehow. “If he won’t come home because I’m here, I’ll go. I’ll go pack a bag right now, but. I’ll make sure it’s perfect for him. I’ll make sure it’s home. I’ll make some bread and put the coffee on and I’ll clean the kitchen before I disappear, I’ll--”

“I love you,” Steve says.

Steve.

Stevestevesteve--

There’s snot running down Billy’s nose. It’s disgusting.

“I’m not leaving,” Steve says, sounding. Way more sober than Billy’s ever been in his entire life. Like he’s studied Billy, he’s mapped the path, he knows what he wants--

“I’m never leaving you,” Steve tells him, voice soft like feather down. “No matter what.”

Billy lifts his whiskey bottle to find that it’s empty. “Steve, I’m drunk.”

On the other end of the line, Steve hums. Billy knows he’s chewing on his thumb nail, deep in thought like he gets when it’s late and Billy’s a burning forest needing something cool to hang onto.

Billy leans against the wall.

When he was a kid he used to imagine what he could’ve done differently. How many times he could’ve done differently, and.

It starts with his mom.

He tried. She never listened, but Steve does. Billy wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and says, “Can you come home, now,”

And Steve says, “I’ve already got my shoes on.”

#harringrove #hey #i hope you enjoyed this

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nerdieforpedro · 19 days

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WIP Wednesday and Thursday

I made a graphic for them I do these so often. 😆

This one will be a bit different from other WIP Wednesday. I’m going to give a brief overview of each one of my WIPs. (There are a lot, not all of them are on Tumblr, I’ll mention which ones are.)

I was tagged by @secretelephanttattoo @trulybetty @fhatbhabie ❤️ and @rhoorl I think. I feel like I mostly got it right. 😂

“This is the Neighborhood Din” My modern Din Djarin AU with a human Grogu (affectionately called Little G). Three chapters are up so far and four is almost done. I’m having a lot of fun writing it (outside of chapter two - Domestic Violence warning on that one.) I’m introducing different Star Wars characters each chapter and their interconnected relationships while keeping with my silly brand of humor. Know that Johnnie Mae is the MVP.

“Weddings 101 with Dieter” A series near and dear to me as with this series I really doubled down on writing Dieter Bravo overall as well as my delusional belief that I am somehow a comedy writer. Maya and Dieter are a hot mess, I love Daisy, Dieter’s trusty goat and that this series is the crazy ridiculous rom-com I wanna see. ❤️ Also I made Oscar Isaac have imaginary beef with Dieter and am having way too much fun writing it. @angelofsmalldeath-codeine loves this series and I love her for loving it. 🥰

“The Lake Between Us” My sleepy, dreamy series with Ezra. He has an airboat, he has a house across of the OFC’s on a lake. He cooks gumbo in a tank top. This series was inspired by Ezra cooking (I dunno why) and turned into an eight part series on two people growing closer. There’s two interludes (I’m scrapping the third one - thanks to @mysterious-moonstruck-musings for beta reading filth. This is the one time it doesn’t fit lol)

“Only Pieces of You Mr. Morales” My angsty sensual (also has a lot of sex because it’s Frankie) short series I created on a whim last week. I finally was able to write for Frankie this year outside of prompts. 👀 I describe different parts of Frankie’s body each Friday. I put out (pfft) two drabbles on Fridays. It’s a friends to friends to benefits to them figuring it all out. Maybe because I put Frankie through the wringer to much is why when I put Frankie drabbles in @i-own-loki ‘s box, she thinks I’m harming the man. 😭 I love Frankie I swear!

“Our Journey Across the Star Ocean” My fluffy Din series where you and Din (especially) are super awkward, very sweet and idiots. Three tropes I love. I have two parts and I’m working on a third. I’m not sure how long this one will be. On the shorter side for sure. Fluff for @grogusmum and @604to647

“Come away with me Angel” This is my Benny series I finally tossed out into the world. There’s only one part but I am working on part two. Friends to lovers and one house I guess as far as tropes go. I see to have a thing with cooking because so far in chapter two Benny is cooking shirtless. @rhoorl and @musings-of-a-rose we’ll need to discuss this.

“Post Apocalyptic Fluff and Stuff” This is @maggiemayhemnj ‘s brain child. She told me I made up a genre of post apocalyptic fluff so we’re going to have more. The stuff refers to darker topics because it is an apocalypse, but 80% fluff. I’ll have emoji indicators.

Unposted Planned Series:

“A Safe Place for Us” is what happens when I think on an obsessive baby daddy Dieter I wrote for a spring prompt because what else goes with a brick house am I right?! No? Well, it’s what we’re getting. Eventually. After Weddings 101. They’re not connected, different OFC and I have all sorts of silly titles.

“Therapy for the Well Adjusted” If there’s someone who is going to be put through the wringer, it’s Marcus Pike. He has an incident at work where he needs to take some time off. Because he’s Pike, he seeks out a therapist. After a miss or two, he vibes with Dr. Mint. The OFC has a longer road to therapy met with therapists whose vibes are way off and also no one needs to touch your Cakatoo. Ever. Not a euphemism an actual bird. Eventually, the OFC finds Dr. Julip. Both doctors share a practice. Nerdie style hijinks ensue. Inspired by a Marcus mini-series I made in my Spring Prompts and my own experiences with therapy.

“So Fairy not Jedi?” Din and Grogu meet a fairy warrior. Possibly might be a soulmate AU too? Din’s having all the AUs Working title just vibes. Expect it to be weird, wild and hopefully wonderful.

“It’s not all bad right cariño?” Javier Peña, the elusive, owner of aviators and the amplifier behind them. I had thoughts about him being in an AU in Loredo post Narcos as a sheriff and his interactions with a lawyer from the DA’s office Thalia. Since I haven’t given Javier much other than major angst, pickles, guava and a lot of fingers (the former DEA agent knows what I mean), I can give him a little bit of silly and something sweet. Also just vibes, but I have bullet points. Dancing and yellow jasmine.

“Ezra as a sex worker” Bullet points. Sometimes you just have him hold you, sometimes he talks the entire time but it’s fine because he sounds like sipping warm bourbon while sitting on an over stuffed chair with your feet propped up and it’s massaging all your limbs. Ezra does wonder why you don’t actually come here for sex but he’s getting paid for his time so he can keep that to himself. Until he’s in one of his rambles and asks. A cascade of events occur and he’s living in your house later. Still cooking because I always want Ezra to cook. Pfft.

Feel free to send me an ask or drop a comment about any of these. I think about them all way too much. 🤣🤣

As I was asked by @for-a-longlongtime earlier this week when talking her ear off about something, “How many words do you even write per week?!” 🙃🙃 I have no idea. It’s a lot. Maybe 2-3k but given what I post per week that feels low. It’s a compulsion at this point.

We’re at the end, thanks for reading this far! 💜💜💜

NPT: @undercoverpena-fics @megamindsecretlair @saturn-rings-writes @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @schnarfer @wannab-urs @connectioneverywhere @inept-the-magnificent @covetyou @gemmahale @goodwithcheese @lady-bess @morallyinept @trulybetty @alltheglitterandtheroar @alltheotps @slippinninque @magpiepills @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @laurfilijames @yorksgirl @julesonrecord @djarinmuse @paulmescal-s @tinytinymenace @pedroshotwifey

#wip #wip wednesday #wip thursday #pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #so many thoughts #so many wips #din djarin #joel miller #pedro pascal #frankie morales #dieter bravo #javier pena fanfiction #ezra prospect #marcus pike

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zepskies · 2 months

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Writer Tag

Thank you so much for tagging me @venus-haze! As always, your responses on this were really interesting and got me thinking about my answers. (Here's the original post.)

So these first questions are geared toward Ao3 stories.

How many works do you have on AO3? 48 and counting.

What's your total AO3 word count? Aw geez. According to the statistics page, 1,022,400.

(But I have more fics listed in Tumblr thanks to headcanons and things not yet posted in Ao3.)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Every Loyalty - (Jon Snow x OC)

And So It Goes - (Butcher x OC)

Never Say Goodbye - (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Break Me Down - (OC Version | Soldier Boy x OC)

Checkerboard - (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes! Always. I love getting feedback and engaging with the people who take the time to read my work. 💜

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? Ooh, it's gotta be this imagine in SPN fandom: "Sam crosses the line." In which he's in love with Dean's girlfriend.

(Sequel to "You are Dean's one exception.")

What the fic you've written with the happiest ending? Well, most of my stories have happy endings. But probably Never Say Goodbye (Dean W. x Reader). It's a soulmate AU, so very rom-com and fluffy, despite all the drama they went through.

Though I could also say the same of the last story in the Midnight Espresso-verse: In Bad Weather.

Do you write crossovers? No, I don't. I've enjoyed reading a few though.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? Yes, unfortunately lol. It's inevitable for as long as I've been writing though.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Oh yes lol. I'm a romantic though, so it's often a mix of fluff, straight up romance, occasionally dashed with angst and/or hurt/comfort.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge. (I hope not!)

Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope, but I've received solicitations lol.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yeah, when I was a teenager just starting out writing, I used to write with one of my best friends growing up. (We're still good friends to this day.)

What's your all-time favorite ship? That's pretty much impossible. 🤣 It depends on the fandom! Nowadays I tend to write for OCs or reader inserts though.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? Ooof, nothing recent. But I finally finished And So It Goes, which took me 3 years for some reason. 🙃

Though I do have both a Jason Teague x OC series and a Smallville Clark Kent x OC series outlined that realistically, I probably won't get to. 💔

What are your writing strengths? I've been told I'm good at dialogue and keeping canon characters in character, which is always amazing to hear! I try my best.

What are your writing weaknesses? Action scenes and smut scenes are my biggest writing challenges, though I've been told I do a decent job at them. I know I tend to use adverbs a lot lol (I'm trying to curb that).

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? So I try to minimize use of this, but, I've gotten critiqued (putting it mildly) on this before for two reasons. Admittedly, I've had to revise myself in certain use cases, but also, there are slang words and phrases in certain Spanish cultures that wouldn't make sense to another Hispanic/Latino culture that doesn't use the word/phrase. So sometimes, it's not that it's wrong grammatically, but that it's slang.

What was the first fandom you wrote for? Oh jeezus, probably Chronicles of Narnia fandom when I was like, 10 and brand new to writing. 😂

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to? Ooh a tough one. I feel like there are so many! I do have a story I had outline years ago now for Steve Rogers/Captain America back in the MCU fandom (which I've written in before). But that fandom is a bit intimidating. 😂

What's your favorite fic you've written? Also really tough for me. I think it's a tie between two series:

Break Me Down (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Midnight Espresso (Dean W. x Plus-Sized Latina!Reader)

One totally took me by surprise by how much I enjoyed writing the series and the characters (and figuring out how to write Soldier Boy/Ben 😂).

While the other allowed me to be a little more indulgent with myself, writing from my personal experience and my culture.

The responses on both stories have been amazing and incredibly heartwarming. 💗

No pressure tags:

@thatonewriter15 @waywardxwords @impala-dreamer @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @deanwritings @deanwinchesterswitch @deanbrainrotwritings @kaleldobrev -- and whoever else wants to join! 💜

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asahicore · 1 year

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moonlight - psh (teaser)

pairing. dancer!sunghoon x fem!reader synopsis. In August 1963, your monotonous summer vacation becomes a lot more exciting when you meet a group of dancers that work as the entertainment staff of the resort you and your family are staying at. Your fascination with them, and particularly dancers and close friends Sunghoon and Chaewon, pushes you to help them out by taking Chaewon's place at another hotel's show when she's unable to dance. The week you spend with Sunghoon as he teaches you to dance and the events thereafter give you a lot more than the ability to mambo. genre. dirty dancing au, rom-com type beat, summer au (yes in the dead of winter shut up), poor boy x rich girl trope, full fic will contain the Big 3 (fluff angst n smut) word count. teaser is at 2502 words, expected full fic 30-40k? release date. lmao a/n. i'm back. did y'all miss me.... i hope you guys will like this! i plan on editing and reposting my old stuff but i wanted to post a brand new fic first !! if u enjoy lmk, if u hate it lmk, just lmk it'll make me a very happy girl :)

You were on your way to the bungalow, you really were - but just as you reach it, light from a tall lodge about three hundred meters away catches your attention, and you’re too curious about that building you barely noticed before not to investigate. And so, you continue walking up the small hill where all the guest lodgings rest, until you find yourself before a sign that reads “STAFF QUARTERS - GUESTS KEEP OUT,” which you promptly decide to ignore.

In just a minute, a wooden bridge reveals itself, enabling you to cross over the current that separates you from the other bank, where the lodge stands. If you looked to your right, you could’ve made out some more, smaller and dingier-looking bungalows than the guests’ that hosted the staff behind all those trees, but you run into a familiar face before you notice them.

“Hey! I recognize you. Baby, right?”

“Yeah, and you’re Jake!” you beam, surprised not only at seeing him again here, but at the three huge watermelons he carries in his arms like oversized triplets.

“Yeah…” he trails, squinting his eyes at you, his enthusiasm turning into suspicion. “You can’t be here. Max would kill me. Go back to the dance, Baby.” He can only take a few steps forward before you grab a watermelon from his unsteady hold, putting your most convincing smile on.

“I’ll help you carry these!” you state more than offer, and march forwards across the bridge. Behind you, Jake sighs and shakes his head, then rushes to stop you in your tracks.

“Didn’t you read the sign? This area is staff only, you can’t be here,” he repeats, punctuating his words. He stays unwavering even at the receiving end of your very menacing glare, so you simply huff and stack the watermelon back on top of the other two and turn away. It takes him approximately two seconds to change his mind. “Can you keep a secret?”

Jake doesn’t prepare you for what you’re about to see when you enter the staff common lodge, but you don’t think anything could. The smell of a room full of people sweating and moving about hits you instantly, the heat it creates hanging heavy in the air. The breeze coming in through the open windows is practically useless in bringing the temperature down, but you aren’t curious to find out what it’d be like with the windows closed.

The music, a genre your father always bristles at when he hears it on the radio, is now blasting in your ears rather than whistling through the wind, and it takes you a few moments to adjust to the volume and intensity of the bass and drums bouncing off the walls of the room. The guitar sound is sensual and almost yearning, the singer longs for his lover, and the tempo is just fast enough for the dancers to find a swaying rhythm.

As if the lyrics themselves aren’t enough to make you blush, the way the staff dances makes you feel like you’re intruding on something. You try to look away as a couple thrusts their hips into each other’s, only to find another lowering themselves to the group until they’re crouching then slowly rising again, using each other as support the whole time. Skirts bunched up around hips, shirts almost fully unbuttoned or even discarded, hands grabbing onto the partner’s clothes or bare skin - you’ve never seen anyone dance that way. Far from the choreographed performances you’re used to, here, they’re simply letting their bodies move to the music without any second thoughts or a care in the world. You hadn’t even known this could be considered dancing, but surely, when your body molds itself this perfectly to the melody and to your partner’s hands, then you can only be dancing.

Watermelon in arms, you follow Jake as he snakes his way to the back of the room through sweaty bodies holding each other close. You recognise a few people here and there as the entertainment staff who host activities, teach dance classes or help guests find their way around. They peer back at you, expressions either confused or disdainful - you aren’t sure whether that’s because they don’t know who you are, or because they do and don’t like seeing you there. Even if they don’t know that you’re Baby, your dress at least is a dead giveaway of your being a guest. Your mom had picked it out for you - a white sleeveless summer dress that reaches almost to your knees and cinches in at the waist before flowing out over your hips. And no cleavage, of course. Along with your impeccably curled and styled hair, your prim and proper attire is a far cry from the short skirts, tight t-shirts and denim that the staff wears, revealing sunkissed skin and toned muscles. And if all of that still wasn’t enough to tell you apart as someone who isn’t used to this kind of setting, then your wide eyes like a kid seeing fireworks for the first time should do it.

You finally reach the back of the room and set your watermelon on a bar counter. Jake rests his hands on his hips and watches the dancers, a smile on his face, the kind of smile you wear when you can never get enough of a sight even though you witness it everyday. You watch them too, but you look a mix of fascinated and terrified - sure, they all look terrific, but if your dad caught you here, you’d be dead.

“Where’d they learn to do that?” you lean in to ask Jake as the next song starts playing, your gaze not leaving the dancers who switch easily to the more upbeat tempo, not even needing a second.

He looks at you, stunned. “Don’t you know? This is how the kids dance these days. This is what American basements look like on Friday nights.” His surprise turns into amusement and he steps in front of you, facing you with one hand extended for you to take and a mischievous look on his face. “Wanna try?”

Your eyes immediately double in size and you shake your hands in front of you, but he grabs one of them anyway and starts leading you back into the middle of the room. As if saved by the bell, the doors suddenly burst open, catching everyone’s attention, and in run Sunghoon and Chaewon, wearing the same clothes from earlier, although Sunghoon has ditched the suit jacket and popped the top buttons of his shirt open. Your stomach flips at the sight of his flushed cheeks, hair slick with sweat and expression like he’s on top of the world.

Jake chuckles when he sees how transfixed you are by the two of them, dancing so differently from earlier, their moves far more sexual, hands not so polite anymore, completely free to do whatever they wish. Rather than a smile, Sunghoon bears a small frown and bites his bottom lip, deepening his dimples, and it all seems to make each of his moves that much harsher. The sheer sex appeal that exudes from him is absolutely undeniable, and it makes you feel things you’ve never felt before - things you’re not quite unsure how to name. You let out a small gasp as Chaewon jumps and hooks her legs around his hips effortlessly, then as she leans her upper body back until her head almost touches the ground, Sunghoon’s hands tight around her waist and his biceps apparent under the thin fabric of his dress shirt. You realize how strong Sunghoon must be when he carries her all the way to his shoulders, letting her rest her knees there as she plays with her skirt and swings her head from side to side. You’ve never seen anyone look so good while seemingly having so much fun.

“They look great together,” you blurt out without thinking.

“Don’t they?” Jake says, looking out at them with a fond smile. “You’d think they were a couple.”

This piques your interest. “Well, aren’t they?” you ask, head pivoting towards Jake.

“Not since we were kids, no. They’ve just been dancing together for so long that they’ve developed this chemistry and understanding of each other.”

“Do you know them well?”

“Sunghoon’s my best friend from home. He met Chaewon when he started working here when we were 16, and then he got me this job when we were 17. The three of us are 22 now.” He meets your gaze and his smile grows wider. “Why, you interested?”

The sudden question (and the very obvious, very embarrassing answer) takes you aback and you stammer out a few nonsensical syllables before frowning at him. Your reaction just seems to amuse him. “No, I’m not. Just asking,” you manage to say.

He looks back at them, and you follow his gaze. “Well, good, cause we’re not allowed to get involved with the guests anyway. Which is why you shouldn’t be here in the first place.”

Just then, the song ends and Sunghoon and Chaewon laugh before they separate, finding another partner to dance with. As Chaewon heads towards someone else, Sunghoon catches your stare and walks to where you and Jake stand, eyes fixed on your face. You feel small under his gaze, but you will your knees not to buckle underneath you, although that’s hard to do when his eyes sweep your figure, giving you a once-over.

“What’s she doing here?” he questions Jake without looking away from you.

“That’s Baby, she came with me,” Jake says, not really answering the question.

“I carried a watermelon,” you blurt, not really answering the question either, but that seems to satisfy Sunghoon. His eyebrows raise slightly before he heads back to the dancefloor and starts dancing again. You release a breath you hadn’t known you were holding, but another one catches right in your throat when, after barely thirty seconds, he pivots back around as if there was still something he was curious about. His eyes stay focused on you, unreadable.

And then, he bows his head slightly, looks up at you through his eyebrows, raises his hand, and beckons you to him with his index finger. As if spellbound, your feet move on their own until you find yourself in front of him, his hands reaching immediately for your hips and holding on tight there. All the nerves in your body are on edge and your heartbeat speeds up, almost matching the fast tempo of the song resonating throughout the room. Simply remembering to breathe becomes an arduous task. Jake’s voice is a faint sound as he says, “So you go dance with him, but not me?”

This kind of dancing is completely unfamiliar to you, so you have no idea what to do. Thankfully, Sunghoon doesn’t seem to expect anything else, and he knows how to guide you so that you get the gist of it. “Keep your eyes on me,” he commands softly, gesturing with two fingers for your gaze to stay on his. “And move your hips in a circle, just like that,” he adds, executing the move for you to mirror. “Just relax, you’re too stiff. Relax your arms. Put them around my shoulders.” His hands brush down from your shoulders to your wrists, sending a trail of fire all along your arms, grabbing them and resting them on his shoulders himself before settling back on your waist. His arm snakes its way around it, bringing you closer to him. You aren’t sure what’s more electrifying, his gaze or his touch.

You start to focus on the music and on getting your body to move along to it, and it feels like a miracle when your hips, firmly pressed against his own, sway side-to-side in rhythm. Remembering what you saw earlier, you lean back slightly, hips still moving in small circles, trusting him to keep you from falling. You lean back as far as you can, and something about it is so liberating, you feel the adrenaline rushing through your body as if it’s the only thing keeping you alive. When you come back up, your palms are flat against his chest and he looks at you with a proud but surprised smirk that lits your insides up. “Just like that,” he whispers, but his face is close enough for you to hear him over the music.

He spins you around a few times, and as quickly as he appeared, he’s already gone, having weaved his way through the crowd back towards Jake. It takes you a few seconds to register his absence, but when it does, it’s like all the warmth he filled you with is gone; you’re left only with the heavy heat weighing the room down and you with it, when you’d felt light like air not a moment ago.

Before you can decide on what to do next, someone taps your shoulder, and you turn around to find Heeseung frowning down at you. In the fraction of a second, you can tell this is the snarky Heeseung that you’d seen when you were snooping around the day before rather than the polite Heeseung that had waited your table that night.

“Baby, right? I don’t know what you’re doing here, but your sister and parents are looking all over for you. If I were you, I’d go now, and quick.”

Alarm shoots through you as you realize you’d been here for twenty minutes at least, the sort of absence that wouldn’t go unnoticed by your family this late at night. You thank him rapidly and practically run towards the door before risking a look back at Jake and Sunghoon, still standing in the corner of the room. Jake looks worried, so you send him a thumbs up, but Sunghoon simply peers at you, sipping on a beer as his back rests against the wall, that same unreadable look from before back on his face. You don’t linger to figure it out and rush to your bungalow, coming up with an excuse that you got lost on your way back for your parents to believe. Because their Baby would never do anything she isn’t supposed to, right?

That night, as you toss and turn in bed, trying to fall asleep, your mind wanders off to those warm, big hands firmly planted on your waist, and how they had guided your body until it moved on its own accord, until it let itself go and only followed the rhythm. How far can you go until your body no longer belongs to you but rather to the music, or to the person holding you close, you wonder? And if that happened, would you, for a moment at least, no matter how fleeting, be freed of all your worries for your future and of all the pressure on your shoulders?

Your feet already ache - from dancing or from wanting to dance some more, you can’t quite tell.

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