#with its clichés and tropes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonlightspencie · 1 year

Text

This Ain’t for the Best

Description: Mutual pining. Classic hunting scenarios. Sharing a bed. Wearing the other’s clothes. Confessions. Friends to lovers. Tswizzle title. Need I say more?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x gn!Reader

Warnings: a little bit of violence, me cramming in every cliché i can because i love the classic fanfiction tropes more than i love breathing

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: i was kicking my feet and giggling as i wrote this, especially when i snuck in criminal minds AND taylor swift references. i love writing and never beta-reading or editing what i’ve written. catharsis.

Crashing at Bobby’s had its benefits.

First, we had the comfort of knowing where we were going to sleep at night. It was good to have a bed waiting that wasn’t in a motel room.

Second, there was almost always good food around. I had a knack for home-cooked meals, and it was much easier to be appreciated for it when I actually had a stove to cook on.

Third, there were boundless opportunities for Sam, Dean, and I to kick back and actually relax.

That’s how I ended up in the kitchen, laughing with Dean over old stories we’d told a million times before. He reached in the fridge, pulling out two bottles after we’d come down from the most recent remembrance of an old case. He cracked open the top of his beer, then my drink, sliding it towards me on the counter. Sam and Bobby strolled in st that moment, pausing when they saw us.

“You both woke up like an hour ago,” Sam said, unamused.

“6pm somewhere,” Dean and I said in unison.

We looked at each other with a small laugh, leaving Bobby and Sam rolling their eyes. I took my drink and stood a few steps away.

“We should really get going, though, Dean,” Sam stated.

“Where?” Bobby asked.

“We were planning on doing a run to the grocery story. I don’t want us to eat up all your food without repaying you, and we’re almost out of beer,” Sam said, pointedly looking at his brother.

“This one needs more of those little fruity drinks, too,” Dean teased, nodding at the bottle in my hand.

“Hey, it’s still a malt liquor. Just one that I like,” I said with a laugh.

They said their goodbyes, and I started walking into the front room. Bobby watched the door for a few moment after the boys left, then turned in the archway and locked his gaze on me as I sat on the couch.

I looked at the bottle in my hand. “I know y’all are all about beer, but I can’t help if I prefer something with a little flavor.”

“That’s not why I’m looking at you,” he grumbled, fed up with me already. “What in the world is goin’ on with you and Dean?”

“Huh?”

He furrowed his brow. “Don’t act all shy, now. You two have been flirting nonstop lately.”

“What’s new? We’re both pretty flirtatious in general.”

“Not like this,” he said with a shake of his head. “I don’t know the last time I saw that boy blushing, or you getting all flustered like a teenager.”

“I am not,” I scoffed. “Nothing’s happening, Bobby.”

“I’ve known your for five years, now, and I’ve known those boys since they were kids. You stayed in my house for a year, too. You can’t hide this kind of thing from me.”

“I’m not hiding anything. I’m an open book.”

Now, he scoffed. “Yeah, and I’m running for president.”

I rolled my eyes, taking another drink. He came closer, sitting down next to me.

“If you keep denying all this…”

I swallowed, finally resigning. “There’s nothing to do about it, Bobby.”

“Yes, there is. You could tell him.”

“It wouldn’t do any good. You know how he is, he doesn’t want to be tied down. If we don’t make any moves or promises or whatever, a lot less doesn’t get broken.”

He raised a brow. “I do know how he is. For you, he’d make an exception.”

“I don’t think so. Besides, it’s all just flirting for him. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Are you blind?”

I looked at him, brows raising. He shook his head, picking at the label on his bottle.

“Sorry. I just— I know what I’m seeing, and I really don’t think it’s just a little friendly flirting for him, either,” he said, looking at me again. “I really think you should speak up while you’ve got the chance to. We don’t often get good things with lives like ours.”

“I know. I just don’t want to screw things up.”

“You’re gonna end up screwed if you keep pushing it down, anyway.”

I sighed. He took that signal as a time to change the subject, and for that I was thankful.

“Well, let’s find you the next case, huh?”

The next one was an easy find, and it would’ve been great to break the news to the boys when they got back, if not for a very clumsy Sam walking in the door with a twisted ankle.

“You what?” Bobby asked, incredulous.

Sam sighed, pouting. “I rolled it when I stepped in a pothole.”

Dean shook his head, clearly hiding his amusement as he helped his brother hobble towards a kitchen chair.

“So, no case, then?” I asked.

Bobby perked up. “No, you and Dean can still go. I can take care of Sam.”

“Bobby…” I warned, seeing through him instantly.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Dean said, cutting off my death stare. “When was the last time we went on a case, just you and me?”

I looked at him.

“Seriously, you guys can go without me,” Sam said. “It might be good for you, Y/N. You seem a little restless.”

“I am not,” I defended.

Bobby chuckled. “Sure, you’re not. But I’m not suggested, I’m telling you. Get out of my house.”

I glanced at him, offended. “I am a delight.”

“You are, but I still want you out. You become much less delightful when you’re antsy.”

Dean laughed. “Come on, it’s only a state over, right? If we start driving now we can make it by sundown.”

I took a moment.

“Alright,” I nodded, heading towards the stairs to gather my things.

The case was a hot mess, to say the least. We couldn’t figure out what we were hunting to begin with, and the only true consistency is that the deaths were messy, leaving each victims with missing livers. It wasn’t until we were at the most recent site of the death that things took a little bit of a turn.

“What do you think?” Dean asked, leaning in my direction.

I shrugged, looking around the house.

“It seems… clean.”

“I mean, I guess. We haven’t found hex bags or EMF readings—”

“No,” I cut him off, gesturing around the living room. “Like physically clean. Nothing is out of place. Look at the mantle.”

I walked over, using my gloved hand to wipe along the surface. I showed him my hand.

“Clean. Not even dust.”

He raised a brow. “And that matters because…”

“Because we’re supposed to be looking for some monster-unknown that never cleans up their messes. Every other scene we’ve been to has been a wreck, so why is the only thing out of place the blood stains on the floor? This is also the first time it’s been in the victims house.”

He paused. “You’ve been watching Criminal Minds again, haven’t you?”

I rolled my eyes, taking off the glove.

“That’s not important right now,” I shook my head, standing next to him again. “And, for the record, it’s helping our case.”

“Right,” he chuckled. “Well, profiler, why don’t you tell me more about what you’re gathering from the scene.”

“Don’t patronize me,” I said with a laugh.

He smirked, placing a hand on my back.

“Let’s get out of here and figure out why things changed.”

We followed dead-end leads all over town, until we hit a lucky streak.

“Check this out,” Dean said, calling me over to the table in our room. “Remember that dive bar our last vic was seen at? Look at this dude’s last social media post.”

I walked over, resting a hand against the table as I leaned in. I looked at the laptop, raising a brow.

“Same place.”

“Same place,” he confirmed. “Wanna check it out? See if anything suspicious is up?”

“You sure you don’t just want to hit the bar?”

He looked up at me with a quirked brow.

“What do you think I am? Drinking on the job. I’d never,” he feigned innocence.

I snorted. “Right. So not you.”

“Leave in ten?”

“Sounds good to me.”

We hit the road soon after, winding up at the bar with our eyes peeled for any suspicious activity. There was plenty for us to see in a seedy town like this, but there was only one interaction that truly piqued our interested. I nodded at the man who was paying a little too much special attention to a woman, drawing Dean’s gaze in that direction. He was equally skeeved out. We kept an eye out for another hour or so before the weird activity took another step into the creep category.

We followed out the man who we caught following the woman, all the way to a neighborhood just outside the city. We made our move as soon as the man walked up to her house.

I followed Dean up to the house, and we started to slink around, waiting for any sign of trouble. I first checked through a window near the front of the house.

“Nothing,” I said, motioning for us to move further.

He took the lead, and we came up on a window that looked into the dining room. He slowly looked inside.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be freakin’ kidding me,” Dean mumbled, pulling his head back from the window.

“What?”

“Well, do you want the chance to play out your little crime show fantasies?”

I raised a brow. He sighed, shaking his head.

“That’s not— well, it is a monster in there, but not our kind of monster,” he said, tilting his head.

“It’s a human?”

He nodded. “Looks like it. Nothing supernatural that I can see. She’s passed out now, but let’s get a move on before he starts in on her.”

He started walking towards the back of the house, but I stopped him before we got to the door.

“Can— How do we do this?”

“What do you mean?”

“That’s a human. We can’t just chop his head off or exorcise him.”

“We could still stab him.”

“But should we?”

He gave me a very unamused look, waiting for me to make my point.

“Can we attempt to just— Kick his ass and leave him to deal with life in prison? Only go for the shot if it’s necessary.”

He softened. “He killed people, Y/N, does he really deserve mercy here?”

“Do you really think the prison system is mercy?” I asked, earning a slight chuckle. “I just feel weird about killing humans unless our lives are in immediate danger.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Okay, we’ll play it your way. But if anything goes sideways—”

“Then you feel free to shoot him.”

He nodded curtly, then we continued to the door. He opened it carefully, and we stepped inside, checking our surroundings before we headed towards the woman in the dining room. We saw the man first, his back to us as he sat across the table from her.

“Playing house? Really?” Dean quipped, causing the man to whip around.

My gun was pulled before the man had a chance to stand up and react. He looked between us, obvious annoyance on his face.

“You’re not cops,” he stated.

Dean smirked. “No, we are much worse news for scumbags like you.”

“Now,” I started, “you can try and fail to fight your way out of here, or you can sit still while my partner here makes sure you’re sitting nice and pretty for when the cops do show up.”

Dean moved before he had a chance to formulate a response, dragging him out of the chair. The man tried to put up a fight, but it was pretty quickly silenced by means of a fist to the face. Dean left him on the ground after a few minutes and a roll of duct tape.

“Nice,” I commented, then put away my gun.

I moved to the woman at the table who was still passed out. I checked for a pulse, and when I was sure she was still breathing, I started undoing the binding that kept her to the chair. Dean called in an anonymous tip to the police station as I finished up clearing her of everything. She started waking right as I was about to try and move her to the couch.

“Hey, hey,” I said quietly, trying to give a little comfort before her panic set in. “You’re safe now, alright? You’re fine.”

Her eyes opened, and she immediately clung to me when she saw the man on the ground incapacitated.

“What happened?” she asked with a quivering voice.

“Me and my friend Dean saw this guy creeping around your house. We wanted to make sure everything was okay, and when we found out it wasn’t, we found a way in. The cops are on the way now.”

She nodded. “Thank you. Both of you.”

I glanced back at Dean with the ghost of a smile on my face. He raised his brows at me.

“Why don’t we get you to the couch?”

“You’re not staying?” she asked, still in shock.

“No, we gotta leave,” I said, helping her to the couch. “We’ll stick around for a few minutes outside till the cops get here, though.”

“Okay,” she nodded along absentmindedly as she laid on the couch.

I walked back to Dean, motioning for us to go outside. He looked back down at the man for a moment who was still passed out, then followed behind me. We got back to the Impala and waited.

“Weird to be thanked,” I said, watching the house.

He hummed. “Doesn’t happen often, that’s for sure.”

“I can’t believe we were accidentally hunting a serial killer.”

He snorted. “I’m surprised there’s not more crossover when we hunt.”

I hummed in agreement. “I also wonder why things changed so much. From the murders messy and public to being more confined in the homes.”

“Who knows,” he said, shaking his head. “Monsters make a hell of a lot more sense than people do.”

“You got that right.”

Soon enough we saw flashing lights coming down the street. We watched some officers step out of the first car, and a few more get out of an SUV.

“Is that FBI?” Dean asked, looking intently.

“I mean, we just found them a serial killer. They’ve probably been on high alert,” I said.

He nodded, and we watched for another moment as they prepared to go inside.

“Man, those vests are cool as hell in real life, too,” I commented.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he wrapped up the conversation with a laugh.

He pulled off the sidewalk at that, and started driving in the opposite direction of the cops. We decided to stay the night at the motel, neither of us awake enough to get back to Sam and Bobby. He pulled into the parking lot, and we trudged inside.

“At least we aren’t covered in monster guts this time,” I said as I fell onto the mattress.

“Right?” He chuckled. “Cool if I take the first shower?”

“Of course. I’ll be here.”

He shut the door of the bathroom, and I let out a sigh. All of the teamwork bull crap we’d been doing certainly didn’t help my case, but I could at least be thankful he didn’t want to go the bars and find a hookup. I threw my arms over my eyes and sighed.

“Hey,” I heard Dean’s voice call out, his hand on my knee.

I uncovered my eyes. “Sorry. Must’ve dozed off.”

He smiled. “Go take a shower.”

“You sayin’ I need one?” I asked with a quirked brow.

“Yeah. You’re a mess,” he replied, a playful glint in his eye. “I don’t know how I sat in a car with you all day, to be honest.”

I scoffed, getting up. He moved enough for me to get by, but didn’t let me get far before he started talking again.

“Movie tonight?” he asked.

I rustled through my bag, pulling out my pajama shorts.

“Sure.”

“Any requests?”

“Uh,” I started, still looking for a clean top. “Maybe a comedy. We could use something funny.”

“Good point.” He stared for a moment as I kept digging. “You missing something?”

“I can’t find my t-shirt. I thought I packed three in here.”

“Do you want one of mine?”

I paused, considering the offer. One one hand, I wouldn’t have to wear a cami to bed and risk accidentally flashing him in my sleep. One the other, I’d be wearing his shirt and that would be a sure way to get me in my own head. The risks of the first definitely outweighed my lack of self control.

“That would be awesome.”

He walked to his own bag, pulling out a shirt that matched the one he wore and handing it to me.

“I still think wearing our outside clothes to bed worked just fine.”

“Did you ever feel rested doing that?” I asked.

He sighed dramatically. I laughed.

“Exactly my point,” I said. “Most of your well-being has to do with mindset, Dean.”

He grumbled to himself as he settled into bed, and I took that as my chance to get in the bathroom. My shower was quick, especially since Dean used up most of the hot water. I knew I should’ve gone first, but it forced me not to stay in forever. I pulled on his shirt and my shorts, trying not to let myself smile when I saw myself in the mirror wearing his clothes. I walked back into the room before I allowed myself to think too hard.

He looked at me as I walked out, a smile creeping on his face. I fought back my own to raise a brow as I lingered at the foot of my bed.

“What?”

He shrugged. “Funny seeing you in my shirt.”

“Looks better on me than it ever did on you,” I sassed with a smirk, crawling into bed.

“Can’t argue with that,” he noted, still watching me. He cleared his throat a moment later, looking at the TV screen. “Uh, I found something, I think. They had Step Brothers on demand.”

“Oh, perfect,” I said as he clicked play.

We settled into a comfortable silence for a while, and I cuddled into the duvet. After we were halfway through the movie, I gathered the blankets around me even more.

“Is it just me, or is it freezing in here?” I asked, looking over to see Dean still sitting above the covers.

“It’s a little cold,” he shrugged, then looked at me. “I can check the heater.”

I nodded as he got up and crossed the room. He held a hand out, a puzzled look on his face after a moment. He smacked it with his hand, and still felt nothing.

“Hm. Hang on,” he said, moving to the phone. “Hi, I think the heater in here’s broken.”

A pause.

“Ah, great. Okay, thanks.”

He hung up the phone, looking to me apologetically.

“They said the heating’s down in the whole place.”

I sighed. “That sucks.”

He sat back in his bed, looking at me for a moment before he spoke again.

“I know it’s been a while since we had to, but do you wanna come sleep in my bed tonight? I run hot, it might keep you warm.”

“I know. I had to sleep next to you in the summer, and it was like roasting in an oven,” I chuckled.

“See? It’ll work perfect when you’re cold,” he said, standing again.

He pulled the covers back, getting underneath and patting the mattress next to him. I cursed myself for finding this case in the first place.

“Just don’t complain if I kick you in my sleep,” I said, getting out of my bed.

He chuckled. “I’m not worried about it.”

I got into his bed, and he threw the covers over me. He then reached over top of me to grab the remote, pressing play and slinging an arm around my shoulders. I pulled the duvet up to my chin, leaning into his side.

This position put me in a delicate spot, and I found that to be true more and more with every passing minute. Every time he laughed, I felt it reverberate in his chest. Every time he talked to me, I’d look up to see his face inches from mine. Every time he moved, he held me a little tighter.

In short, Bobby was all too correct about me being screwed.

“Hey,” Dean said, voice soft. “You okay?”

“Mm?”

I looked at him, once again trying not to think about the proximity.

“You always laugh at this scene. You didn’t make a sound this time.”

“Oh,” I chuckled, looking towards the screen. “Sorry, I must be exhausted.”

“Is that all? Seems like there’s something on your mind.”

“Alright, Dr. Phil,” I joked.

“Seriously,” he said, squeezing my shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I think I just need some sleep,” I replied, glancing at him again with half a smile.

He quirked a brow, clearly not believing me, but willing to drop the subject.

“Okay. You know you can always talk to me?”

“I know.”

He smiled softly, then looked back at the TV as he shut it off. He settled into bed, still holding onto me. I snuggled into his side, using his chest as a pillow. I felt him breathe deep before he shut off the light.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Night, Dean.”

I woke up the next morning before he did, and decided there was little harm in remaining there. I shut my eyes, letting myself enjoy the fact that I was still snuggled against him. It gave me a moment to pretend he was mine, at least for the morning. I listened to his breathing, and wondered if he ever dreamt about me in the same way I did about him. As if on cue, his arm tightened around me a little as he stirred. His thumb brushed against my shoulder where his hand had snuck under the sleeve of the t-shirt, though I couldn’t tell if he was really awake until I felt a soft kiss against the top of my head.

At that moment, I decided it was probably best to continue pretending I was still asleep.

He stayed that way for a little while, his hand still against my shoulder, making little patterns with his thumb. It took everything in me not to move when I felt him brush a few stray pieces of hair away from my face, and even more when he let his hand linger against my cheek for when felt like a few seconds too long to be purely friendly.

I wondered if he was always like this when I wasn’t awake. Extra attentive, and sure not to wake me. Maybe that’s why I somehow remained asleep every time I fell asleep in the car that normally jostled me around like a rag doll with his driving. I wondered even more if Bobby was right about something else he’d said days ago: the unrequited feelings might not be so unrequited after all.

I nestled my head against his chest, trying to give him a warning that I was about to open my eyes, and he quickly pulled his hand away from my face. I took in a breath, blinking slowly as I let the light seep in for the second time that morning.

“Morning,” he greeted quietly, his voice still soft and raspy from tiredness.

I smiled. “Morning.”

“You hungry?” he asked, drawing my attention to him.

I nodded, leaning back a little to see him better.

“Very, and I saw a café on the way into town that looked good,” I said.

He smiled softly, shutting his eyes for a moment. Then, he yawned, finally sitting up. He turned and looked at me as I stayed laying.

“How’d you sleep? Warm enough?”

“Thanks to you, yeah,” I replied, stretching. “I’m scared to get out of bed, now, though.”

He patted my leg over the covers, “If you want food, that should be motivation enough.”

“Good point.”

I reluctantly climbed out of bed as he walked into the bathroom to get ready for the day. It was cold, but not unbearable. I decided to throw on some clothes in the room since he always took a while in the bathroom. By the time he was finished, all I needed to do was wash my face and brush my teeth, then we were off.

Breakfast was short and sweet, and we made it back to Bobby’s in record time. We strolled in the door, seeing Sam gimping around the kitchen as soon as we walked in.

“Still letting that ankle beat your ass?” I asked immediately.

He laughed. “Trust me, if I had any control over it, this wouldn’t have been a problem in the first place.”

“Maybe you just wanted out of the hunt,” I said in reply.

“Oh yeah, I loved hanging out and making Bobby bring me ice packs all day. Dream vacation, actually.”

Dean shook his head with a smirk. “You didn’t miss out on much anyway.”

“How’d it go?” Sam asked as he took a seat.

I looked to Dean who was already glancing in my direction. I shrugged.

“We stopped a serial killer, actually,” I noted.

Sam gaped. “And I ‘didn’t miss much’?”

“Just knocked him out and called the cops. Not much fun, anyways,” Dean shrugged. “Oh, we did find maybe the best pancakes I’ve ever had, though.”

I hummed in agreement enthusiastically, nodding.

“They were freaking incredible,” I said, then looked back at Sam. “And they had like, real, fresh maple syrup.”

“Unlimited stacks when you bought the platter, too,” Dean chimed in with a gleeful smile.

“You two sound like an old married couple,” Sam scoffed out with a laugh. “What, did you fall asleep together after reading the newspaper, too?”

“After watching a movie, actually,” Dean corrected, grabbing a beer from the fridge. Then, he looked at me. “Did you want anything?”

“I’m okay.”

Sam looked between us, a raised brow and an amused look on his face.

“You two actually fell asleep together?”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s what you choose to focus on?”

He smiled mischievously, then looked at Dean.

“Making moves on her, now?”

Dean swallowed, glaring at his brother with wide eyes. I furrowed my brow, about to see if I could prod Sam for information, but Bobby walked in before I had the chance.

“Hey, you two. How was the hunt?”

Dean let out a breath. “Not real eventful. I could use some sleep.”

He started walking out of the room, all of us watching as he left. Bobby turned to me first, a questioning look on his face.

“Don’t look at me,” I said with my hands up in defense. “I think Sammy pissed him off.”

“Real smooth, Sam,” Bobby commented.

Sam scoffed, shaking his head. Bobby merely sighed, going to take a seat across from Sam. I looked at them both, hands on my hips.

“Why do I get the feeling you two know something I don’t?”

“Did Dean not talk to you?” Sam asked, looking at me.

“We talk plenty.”

“That’s not what I mean. He said he was gonna talk to you when the next case was over,” he stopped, then looked at Bobby. “Case came and went, and still nothing.”

Bobby shrugged. “Out of our hands, Sam. Told you not to meddle.”

I sighed in annoyance. “You two are children, you know that?”

“Hey,” Bobby said, offended.

“I’m gonna take a walk,” I said finally, turning for the door.

The second I was halfway out, they started talking again, but I couldn’t bring myself to care too much about what they said. Clearing my mind sounded like the best option, and I was determined to do it.

I started walking around the yard, music blaring from my phone to keep me preoccupied as I watched the sky light up with a million different colors. I found an old car with a relatively clean exterior and decided to climb onto the hood. I leaned back, watching the sky as it turned darker, the stars slowly peaking out.

“Room for one more?” Dean’s voice asked from behind me.

“Come on up,” I said, scooting over a bit.

He came and sat next to me, looking up at the sky. He let out a slow breath, then looked at me.

“Taylor Swift?”

“You know it,” I replied.

He smiled, turning his head back.

“Stars are coming out,” he commented.

“They are. You should’ve seen sunset, it was gorgeous.”

He scooted closer, leaning his head against mine silently. After a moment, I let myself lean against his shoulder a little more.

“You okay, Dean?” I asked after a beat.

“Of course. Why?”

“I dunno. You just seemed a little off when we got back today.”

He sighed. “Yeah. It’s— It’s nothing.”

“You sound like me, now.”

He chuckled. “Guess we’ve got the same bad habit, huh?”

“Yeah, guess so.”

We stayed there until it got dark enough to really see the stars come out, not moving even when the chill of the night started creeping in. I readjusted my head against his shoulder, preparing myself to speak again.

“Did you really follow me out here just to look at stars?”

I felt him still. Then, after a moment, I sat up a little straighter and looked at him. He glanced back at me, clearly feeling caught out.

“Thought you could use some company.”

I raised a brow, and he smirked, looking away.

“Alright, you got me,” he said, “What gave it away?”

“First off, I’ve known you for years,” I started, nudging him in the arm. “Second, Sam and Bobby were all uppity about the fact that you apparently told Sam you had something to talk to me about.”

“I swear, he can’t keep a secret to save his life when it comes to stuff like this,” he said, rubbing at his face.

“Well, try me,” I said, unable to keep my eyes off of him. He was extra cute all flustered. “I’m a good listener.”

He let out a breath, then looked at me, scanning my face for a moment.

“I know I’ve got a certain type of reputation—”

“You?! No way,” I exclaimed with a smile, my eyes wide.

He laughed. “Exactly my point.”

“You know I don’t care about that, though. Reputations are a one-sided story.”

He hummed. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

He sighed, looking back at the sky for a moment.

“I just,” he started, giving a shrug, “I feel like it— Like it makes people feel like I never want anything but a hookup, you know?”

“It makes people feel that way?”

“I’m that easy to read, huh?” he asked, looking at me again with a faint smile. “You. I mean you.”

“I gathered that much.”

He laughed softly, as did I.

“How’d you know?”

“I had suspicions fueled by Bobby. Then you kissed me and started being all affectionate when you thought I was asleep this morning.”

His eyes widened. “You were pretending to be asleep? That’s so not fair!”

“Hey, I woke up snuggled into my own personal space heater, I didn’t exactly want to be up and at ‘em.”

He rolled his eyes, tugging me into his side with an arm around my shoulders once more.

“How long has it been for you?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t even know. I guess I started realizing it a year or so ago.”

“That’s embarrassing for me, then. I knew the second I met you,” he said with a laugh.

“Dean,” I said with surprise. “It’s been half a decade! No wonder Bobby got on my ass about it before we left.”

“Well, hey, Sammy’s been on mine for a couple years. You got off easy up till now.”

I laughed. “I guess so. To be fair, we were flying under the radar for quite a while, though. The incessant flirting the past few weeks is what got us in trouble.”

“Why did you start being extra flirty, anyway?” he asked, resting his cheek against the top of my head.

“I don’t know. I guess I was, like, subconsciously seeing a window. You haven’t been doing your normal bar hookups the past few months, so I thought maybe there was a reason for it,” I paused. “Though, finding out you’ve been crushing on me for five years kind of makes me question that.”

He snorted out a laugh. “Easier to keep my mind off you that way. That sounds terrible. I just— I never thought in a million years you’d think anything of me.”

“Well, when did you realize I might?”

He sighed. “You remember a couple weeks back when we were taking down that vamp nest? You easily could’ve died, and we hugged afterwards, but when I pulled back I… I saw that look in your eyes that seemed an awful lot like how I look at you when you’re not paying attention. I wanted to kiss you, and I didn’t doubt in that moment that you would’ve let me if I had.”

I paused. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared. We’ve been friends for so long, and we practically do everything together. I didn’t want to ruin anything on the off chance that I was reading those signs all wrong.”

“You weren’t.”

He fell quiet for a moment. I looked up at him, and he looked back at me as I did. He quickly wet his lips, drawing my gaze downward before my eyes flicked back up to his. His lips parted momentarily. Then…

“We should get back inside. It’s getting cold out here,” he said quickly.

I nodded curtly, pulling away to let him get off the hood first. He gave me a hand, helping me down next. We walked back to the house quietly, saying soft goodnights before we went to separate rooms.

I was all settled in for the night, cozy in my bed with a book in hand. Then, I heard a knock on the door. I grumbled as I got up, annoyed that I had to leave the comfort of a mattress that wasn’t a sure cesspool of germs I didn’t want to think about. I flung the door open.

“Someone better be dying or I’m gonna kick some ass for—”

Dean’s lips crashed into mine, effectively silencing me from my rant. I melted after a few seconds of mental delay, my hands gripping onto the material of his shirt as his cradled my face. I felt him smile into the kiss, drawing my closer with arms that snuck around my waist, holding me tight. He wasted no time in deepening the kiss once he was sure that the signs were all giving him a positive response.

We finally broke apart a few minutes later, breathing heavy with pounding hearts.

“I figured I should stop letting opportunities pass me up,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, good thinking.”

His eyes scanned over me, his chest still heaving.

“You wouldn’t happen to need another space heater for the night, would you?”

“I run cold, what can I say?” I replied with a smirk, and a spark in my eye.

He smiled, walking me into the room with his lips on mine, kicking the door shut behind him.

(EDIT: starting taglists now! let me know if you want to be on any!)

FULL MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

#i haven’t written a spn fic in years this felt good #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #delicate #reputation #taylor swift #gender neutral reader

3K notes · View notes

metanarrates · 3 months

Text

there are a LOT of things you can speculate about regarding what twsa was actually like as a novel but what's most interesting to me is that you can make the argument that twsa was an "unpolished" version of what orv is. it's a version of a similar novel that likely dealt with a lot of similar themes but was seemingly bogged down by poor structure, pacing, expository handling, and focus. (all of which are things that orv is shockingly excellent at.)

and of course, han sooyoung's novel, sssss-grade infinite regressor, is the "polished" version of the idea. it's well-written, probably well-plotted, and was successful enough to make han sooyoung rich and famous. we don't know what sssss-grade infinite regressor is like as a novel either, but we sort of get the impression that it's not very emotionally rich even if it is good on a technical level. han sooyoung herself doesn't seem intensely attached to it despite being proud of her work, and kim dokja of course doesn't hold it in high regard. (though of course he's a gigantic unreliable narrator and also a hater.)

what's interesting is that despite orv very strongly emphasizing the ways these works are flawed from the outset, orv itself functions as an argument in these works' favor. both twsa and infinite regressor are stand-ins for the "mass-produced" genre of webnovels. they are popular fiction, relying on a very familiar pool of tropes and clichés in order to deliver on a relatively predictable story to appeal to a wide audience. it's not a coincidence that they are so similar - both literally and in a meta sense, they are drawing on the same exact story-building and genre material. twsa is just the unsuccessful version, and infinite regressor is the successful one.

orv is what I would consider the most "impressive" version of the genre. it's well-structured, thrillingly plotted, interestingly written, has fascinating ideas and characters, and is even "literary" - that is, it has deeply considered themes and is often drawing from the realm of literary, postmodern fiction in order to express its ideas. a less sincere story would disavow itself from its pop-fiction origins and claim to be the best version of its genre. nothing else could be like it, so the worst versions of its genre wouldn't be worth considering.

but orv, while technically functioning as an argument that the genre can be "good" simply because it's a great novel that is deeply rooted in its genre, goes much further. it argues in-text that any sort of story, even those that are bad on a technical level or those that were somewhat cynically produced for a mass audience, are worth finding value in, simply because stories have meaning to their readers. the most uncritical reproduction of a genre's conventions can still mean something to someone who likes it. twsa, if it existed in our reality, would still probably be considered a very bad novel, but it wouldn't need to be polished up and turned into infinite regressor or orv in order to have value. orv itself is telling you that you should find value in twsa as it is, and by extension, every badly-done work of fiction that twsa could be a stand-in for!

#narrates #orv #all of this is Fascinating for in-universe texts to have as relationships to the actual text btw #scratching at the walls like I KNOW ITS THE POINT THAT WE CANT READ THEM... BUT I WANNA READ TWSA AND INFINITE REGRESSOR...

733 notes · View notes

temiizpalace · 2 months

Text

☆┆”THAT WAS CLICHÉ..”

SUMMARY: cliché moments with our twst boys

CHARACTERS: HEARTSLABYUL

ROMANTIC

WARNINGS: cursing, cringey cliché tropes that i’m a sucker for

PARTS LIST — heartslabyul. savanaclaw + octavinelle. scarabia + pomefiore. ignihyde + diasomnia

reader is g/n, reader is yuu

✧༺♥༻✧ HEARTSLABYUL

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS : TURNING THE CORNER !

you hastily sped past the halls, a large stack of papers in your hands. crowley felt like dumping all the responsibility on you again, keeping you busy for the next week.

you needed to pass these to crewel before the next class, which didn’t leave much time. turning corner after corner, you kept a steady pace. not slowing down for a second. until..

BAM!

“ACK—!” a voice winces in pain while papers flutter across the halls. your faces darkens at the sight as the thin sheets fell to the floor. oh fuck. “ARE YOU OKAY? IM SORRY!”

the figure before you was one you’re all too familiar with. the one and only, riddle rosehearts. “SORRY, RIDDLE!” you apologize once more. his expression shifted as he realizes it was you instead of some other arrogant student.

“it’s alright. you should really look where you’re going, prefect.” he sighs, picking up the sheets of paper from the floor. you lean down and grab the scattered notes that have made its way across the halls.

“i know, i know. i’m just kind of in a rush right now..” you groan, reaching your hand out for another paper. “is that so? may i ask why?” he questions, also reaching for another paper.

just then, both of your hands meet in one place. his hand was right atop of yours, slightly squeezing it subconsciously. his eyes widened and his cheeks flushed red in color, flustered from the sudden touch.

time seemed to have paused in this moment, each second passing by feeling like hours. you hesitantly pulled back your hand, the intimacy breaking between you two. “ahem.. i was taking these down to crewel.” you answered his question, voice slightly cracking.

riddle clears his throat and swiftly collects the rest of the papers from the floors and stands upright. “then i shall accompany you.” he states a matter of factly, waiting for you to stand. “aw you’d do that?”

“of course. it’s the least i could do after everything you’ve done for me..” he faintly smiles, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. he quickly walks towards crewel’s classroom, needing to run to catchup to him. “hey! wait for me!”

ACE TRAPPOLA : THIS ONE’S FOR YOU !

attending basketball practice was always an interesting sight to see.

floyd going through several mood swings the entire practice, jamil trying his best to escape (ultimately failing), and ace either instigating in the madness or shooting hoops on his own.

right now, he was practicing by himself. you watched him from the bleachers, in awe of his form and quick movements. ace noticed your eyes burning holes into the back of his head, and being the little shit he is, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to tease you a little.

“what’s up, prefect? like what ya see?” he winks, causing you to cringe. “in your dreams.” you retort, making him scoff at your comment. he was attractive though cmon let’s not lie. “whatever.”

ace dribbles the ball and shoots, doing his best to perfect his shot. before this attempt, he looks at you and smirks, much to your confusion. “PREFECT!” he shouts, almost the entire gym goes silent. eyes had landed on him and then to you as he spoke.

“THIS ONE’S FOR YOU!” he winks, shifting his attention back on the hoop. you felt your cheeks warm up at this sudden declaration, all eyes in the gym lying on you.

ace takes a deep breathe, calculating the shot and playing it back in his head. he analyzes the trajectory in which the ball should be at, equaling his absolute success. he did all the math in his head and had the perfect equation for absolute success.

too bad he’s an idiot that can’t do math. he shoots the ball, the suspense killing the others. spoiler alert: it doesn’t go in the net. it hits the backboard then hits him dead set in the forehead.

good job, buddy. you suck your teeth as the impact looked painful, watching as he fell right on his ass. he looked like a moron out there, but the gesture was sweet.. sort of.

you owe him a drink and a kiss on the cheek for this one.

“dont you dare take a photo, damn it.”

DEUCE SPADE : I GOT YOU !

today, you and deuce were on library duty together. both of you needed to rearrange some of the books because these savanaclaw students keep putting them in their incorrect spots.

you stood on the ladder as deuce held it steady, ensuring that you wouldn’t fall. “deuce, pass me that book please.” you ask, reaching your hand out. “right!”

he grabs the book and passes it to you, putting it in its rightful spot. thankfully this was the last book to be put away, meaning the 3 hour job was finally finished. “phew, that was the last one!” deuce smiles, wiping his brow.

“all you did was hold the ladder.”

“..a-anyways, get down slowly.” he stutters, watching you climb down. “yeah, yeah i got it.” taking it step by step, you slowly climbed down the ladder.

an annoying fly circles around deuce’s eyes. it’s been bothering him for the past hour, never getting the hint to not come back. feeling tired from dealing with this fly’s shit, he grit his teeth and tried swatting it.

“you annoying piece of—” it landed on the ladder, and since poor deucey has a singular braincell, he slapped the fly with all his might. the ladder shook, causing you to lose your balance.

“DEUCE?!” you shriek, before falling off the wood. he hears your cry, horror filling his eyes as he watched you fall. without a moment to lose, he opens his arms to catch you.

“I GOT YOU!” he shouts, determined to catch you no matter what. you fell into his arms, the impact not hurting nearly as much as you braced yourself for. he caught you bridal style, causing heat to rise to your cheeks.

you tightly gripped the fabric around his chest, trying to keep yourself from dropping. “it’s alright, i caught you.” he reassures, brushing a stray hair out from your face.

“aha.. thanks, deuce!” your voice was shaking, still in shock from the fall. “dont mention it!” he smiles, his grasp tightening slightly. you stare at him, not realizing how attractive he was before. the light somehow highlighted his facial features, enhancing his appearance.

he didn’t notice your staring til a short while, causing his face to heat up and turn red. you both stared at each other a moment longer before you broke the silence. “y-you can drop me now..”

“R-RIGHT! SORRY.” he shouts, putting you down slowly. the air in the room was awkward, you and deuce just standing next to one another. “i guess holding the ladder really is an important job, huh?”

you smile at his attempt to break the silence and look back at him. “yeah, i guess.”

CATER DIAMOND : LOOKS LIKE IT’S JUST US !

cater wanted more alone time with you. it felt like all the people you hung out with was the iconic adeuce duo. boooo, let him in on the action.

he felt himself ascend to heaven when you agreed to hang out with him! ..and trey. does he have to beg to get the things he wants??? why does this world hate him.

feeling distraught, he decided enough was enough. he will have this moment. just you and him. all it takes is a little convincing!

“so where’s trey?” you ask, standing by the rosebush with cater. “trey said he had something come up! looks like it’s just us!” he exclaims, looking at you with a bright smile.

“aw, too bad. he’s gonna miss out on all the fun!” you joked, returning the smile right back at him. he felt as if cupid pierced an arrow right through his heart as you graced him with your cheerfulness.

“kay-kay! let’s be off!” he giggles, grabbing your wrist and dragging you away. the entire day spent with him was blissful. drinking boba with him, trying pastries together, watching him reluctantly eat it (all for you), taking enough selfies to last til next year, all of it was fun!

there was a good handful of selfies, but also a handful of natural photos. ones of you smiling. ones of you laughing. ones of you just being yourself. he cherishes those photos more than anything, and they’re all reserved for him.

nobody else has these photos but him, and that’s special to him.

“last spot on our tour is the mostro lounge! they have an all new potato dish that is so trending on magicam!” cater giggles, opening the door for you like a gentleman. “thank you, sir.” you chuckle, watching his face slightly turn red.

“no problem~☆!” he winks, going in right after you. an octavinelle student stands by reception and leads the both of you inside, taking you to a booth in the back. the wait for the dish was long, but definitely worth the wait.

cater excitedly took a photo or two and dug in. the hangout was shorter than expected, the two of you wrapping up as he walked you to ramshackle.

“thanks for today, cater. we should hang out together more often! just the two of us.” you placed a swift kiss on his cheek before waving goodbye. he stares at you, a dumbfounded expression covering his face.

he snaps back to reality and tries covering his flustered emotions. “totally! see ya later [MC], byeeee!”

cater skips back to his dorm, excited for the next hangout you two do together.

TREY CLOVER : TAKE MY COAT !

the cold air blows in your face, causing a shiver to go down your spine. “shit.. it’s cold.” you mumble, feeling the temperature only decrease each step you take.

“prefect?!” a voice cuts through the silence behind you, turning to reveal none other than trey clover. “ah, trey. morning.” his eyes were filled with concern, basically seeing icicles develop from your nose.

“where’s your jacket?! it’s freezing out here.” he felt himself shaking from the cold just looking by looking at you. the temperature was wayyy below the average and here you were with no sweater.

“i had to give it to grim,” you sighed, looking at the fuzzy creature walking ahead of you. “he wouldn’t stop complaining about the cold so I gave him jacket to shut him up.”

“is that right?” trey chuckles, taking off his coat and draping it over your shoulders. you feel your cheeks warm up as he ghosts his touch against your neck. he was warm to say the least. “take my coat. it should keep you warm for the time being.”

he smiles, causing your heart to explode. your entire body felt warmer than earlier and your nostrils were filled with the smell of baked goods. should’ve expected that. “won’t you be cold?” you ask, seeing as he now only had a jacket to wear.

it didn’t look warm at all. there was no fleece like there was inside the coat he had handed you. “don’t worry about me, i’ll be fine. i’m more worried that you might catch a cold.” he reassures you, noticing your concerned expression.

“so, where are you off to?” trey asks, now walking beside you. “sam’s shop. i have to buy more snacks, grim ate em all.” you grunt, remembering that horrific scene of grim lying on the floor with a full belly.

trey laughs, imagining the image in his head. “if that’s the case, then how about i bake you some treats? i was on my way to sam’s too.” he suggests, causing your eyes to light up. “really? that’d be great!”

the two of you continue your conversation to sam’s shop, completely forgetting about freezing temperatures. his warm presence (and his incredibly warm coat) was enough for you.

A/N: hi. it’s been awhile. anyways live laugh love heartslabyul

date published: 2/23/24

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland fluff #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #cater diamond x reader #trey clover x reader #twst fluff #heartslaybul x reader #heartslabyul #deuce my boy #I love heartslabyul

424 notes · View notes

vexingwoman · 1 month

Note

I'm sorry if this isn't articulated well and is a little rambly, I'm autistic, please take my words with a grain of salt. as a former member of that "whump community" (who's still into that kind of media) I know most of them are tifs, tho I was in it more when most of the popular writers on tumblr were still girls. It's also primarily autistic people from my experience.

you're definitely 100% right that they're not identifying as real men, I'm detrans and i don't even conflate the 2 in my mind which i think is a thing most RFs don't get about yaoi and this kind of thing, i didn't want to be a real guy, fictional men r like their own species lol. they're everything real men could never be. it might be hard to understand if you're less chronically online but I'm sure though not consciously, fictional men aren't even really related to real men in most of these people's minds.

With whump stuff I was always more uncomfortable or uninterested when it was a woman, maybe because women in media being hurt and weak is the norm (and it feels too real seeing a woman getting hurt since there's a closer connection), and it happening to men is an intriguing reversal. More male attracted women (im bi) are into more sensitive guys which sadly mostly exist in media, so it's just escapism.

I think that's also why they identify as trans males, they want to become closer to the fictional ideal of a male who can be soft and sensitive, or possibly being autistic and having trouble separating your special interests and escapist fantasies from every facet of your life.

(For context, this was sent in response to this post)

I think you’re onto something here. Brutality against female people is so common that we’re completely desensitized to it, and consequently, female characters being brutalized doesn’t emotionally move us. Either that, or brutality against female characters is highly sexualized, and further dehumanizes them.

On the other hand, brutality against a male character is unexpected and unusual. Therefore, we are emotionally moved by it and able to recognize it for the tragedy it is. Indeed, this might explain why the “whump community” almost exclusively romanticizes the torture and anguish of male characters, and why so many of its members identify as trans guys.

Furthermore, have you noticed that most of the tropes this community romanticizes are things that, at least in real life, female people are primarily the victims of? For example: rape, kidnapping, stalking, being drugged, being sold. It almost feels like an attempt to vicariously garner empathy for female suffering, without the element of being another cliché female victim. I feel like they impose female suffering onto male characters because they know the audience actually empathizes for males and views them as full human beings.

In the end, I think it all comes down to female people’s desire to be fully humanized and to escape gendered stereotyping. For example, you stated that many trans-identified females “want to become closer to the fictional ideal of a male who can be soft and sensitive.” But why is a soft, sensitive male character so much more charming to them than a soft, sensitive female character?

Because in their eyes, softness and sensitivity in a male character is seen as authentic; it’s seen as a consequence of his unique personality. But softness and sensitivity in a female character is seen as expected, as stereotypical—it’s seen only a consequence of her gender. This is also why characters who are fathers are adored, while characters who are mothers are overlooked or scrutinized. Because a male character taking care of children is kindhearted, nurturing, selfless, compassionate. But a female character taking care of children is just doing her job.

Basically, I think many trans-identified females would like their softness and sensitivity to be viewed as authentically as we view softness and sensitivity in males. I think many trans-identified females crave for their characteristics to be viewed as consequences of their unique personalities, rather than consequences of their gender. They crave to be seen as human first and female second—not the other way around.

#terfblr #radical feminist safe #radblr #sexism #misogny #trans logic #gender critical #radical feminism #terfsafe #gender abolition #tif #whump community #whump

242 notes · View notes

deception-united · 14 days

Text

Let's talk about writing fantasy.

Fantasy is one of my favourite genres, to read and to write. But the worldbuilding required and the existing tropes can make it difficult to craft a unique, compelling novel. There are a number of less-discussed nuances that might not always be at the forefront of writing discussions. Here are some tips to help you out:

Ground it in reality: Even though fantasy allows for boundless imagination, grounding your world in elements familiar to readers can make it more relatable and believable. Making it too otherworldly can make it difficult to understand or follow, and will likely make it much more difficult to interweave the explanation of your world and its society into the text seamlessly.

Consistency is key: Fantasy worlds can be complex, with their own rules, magic systems, and histories. Ensure consistency in your worldbuilding, avoiding contradictions or sudden changes without explanation. I find it helpful to keep a world bible or notes to track details and maintain coherence throughout the story.

Character-driven plots: While epic battles and magical quests are exciting, don't forget that compelling characters drive the heart of any story. Develop multi-dimensional characters with strengths, weaknesses, and personal arcs that resonate with readers (see my post on character development for more).

Avoid clichés and stereotypes: Fantasy often draws from familiar tropes and archetypes, but try not to rely on them too heavily. Subvert expectations and breathe new life into old conventions by adding unique twists or exploring lesser-known mythologies and cultures. Make it your own!

Magic has consequences: Magic adds wonder to fantasy worlds, but it should also have limitations and consequences. Consider the societal, environmental, and personal impacts of magic on your world and characters. A well-defined magic system can enhance the depth and realism of your story.

Worldbuilding through storytelling: Instead of dumping large chunks of exposition, reveal your fantasy world gradually through character interactions, dialogue, and plot progression. Show, don't tell, and let readers piece together the intricacies of your world as they journey through your story (check out my previous post on worldbuilding for more tips).

Embrace diversity: Fantasy worlds should reflect the diversity of our own world. Include characters from various backgrounds, cultures, and identities, and explore themes of inclusivity and acceptance within your narrative.

Conflict beyond good vs. evil: While the battle between good and evil is a classic fantasy trope, consider adding layers of moral ambiguity and complexity to your conflicts. Explore themes of power, redemption, and the consequences of choices made in the face of adversity.

Research is essential: Even in a world of imagination, research plays a crucial role in grounding your story in reality. Whether it's drawing inspiration from historical events, cultural practices, or scientific principles, thorough research can enrich your worldbuilding and add depth to your narrative. Even fantasy worlds and elements require some sort of basis to make them more believable.

Revise: Like any genre, writing fantasy requires extensive revision and polishing. Be prepared to revise your manuscript multiple times, seeking feedback from beta readers or critique partners to strengthen your story, characters, and worldbuilding.

Happy writing!

#writeblr #writing #writing tips #writing advice #writing help #writing resources #creative writing #plot development #worldbuilding #fantasy worldbuilding #fantasy #fantasy writing #deception-united

201 notes · View notes

skz317cb97 · 1 year

Text

The Club

Bang Chan x Thick female reader

Word count: 6.3K

Synopsis: Friends to lovers such a cute trope... in theory. You go to the club with your two best friends and the clueless man you love, your roommate Chan. Will you be able to stand watching him hook up with yet another flawless girl that you could never compare to or are you finally at the end of your rope.

A/N: 18+ ONLY! I don't know where this came from I just knew I wanted to do another thick reader fic. I honestly pulled it from my ass which I guess is what all writing is really. ANYWAY! I hope you enjoy and if you do please reblog, comment, like, send an ask whatever I love to hear from you guys. As always warnings and smut below the cut!

Warnings: Body image issues, cussing/strong language, unprotected piv intercourse (please use protection), cream pie, crying after sex. I think that's all, this one is fairly tame. If I missed something please let me know and I'll add it to the warnings asap!

Your best friend and roommate Chan knocked on your bedroom door and then walked into your room a second after, a typical move on his part.

“Come right in why don’t ya.” You scoffed. Chan flashed his megawatt smile that you failed to see since you were laying on your bed face down after having the worst week of your life. He picked up one of your throw pillows and flung it at your head.

“Hey wake up! Minho and Jisung called, we’re going to the club tonight so get ready!” You rolled over looking at the ceiling and pushed the pillow Chan threw on the floor instead of flinging it back towards him, he frowned a little.

“Pass. You guys go without me.” The last thing you wanted to do was go and watch your three pretty best friends get hit on while you sat at a booth drowning your loneliness in whatever you felt like shooting back. It always happened and of course it did. They were three attractive men that could dance, they were articulate and kind as well. So they had their pick of the women whenever you all went out to the clubs. The club experience was not the same for you.

You were bigger than most if not all the other girls at the club and your dancing was mediocre at best. Most of the time you would dance for a bit with the guys and eventually, one by one, they would break off with whatever girl rubbed against them. Then you would make your way to a booth and be there for the remainder of the night. No one ever approached you except your friends who would regularly check up on you, sit for a bit, maybe order a drink, then back out on the dance floor. You were sure it was a great time for them and usually it didn’t bother you that much but after your day, your week, you didn’t have the energy. Chan was persistent and wasn’t having it though.

“What?! No no way we’re not going without you, we all always go together.” He grabbed you by your hands and you wished it didn’t make your heart race. Chan pulled you until you were sitting up.

“So get. Dressed.” You rolled your eyes and pulled your hands away.

“I said no Chan.” He rolled his eyes right back.

“Give me one good reason why?” He crossed his arms in front of him and you let out a huff of frustrated air. A good reason why? Because you’d had a horrible week and you didn’t want to watch Chan rubbing against and kissing another perfect girl that he would bring home and you would ultimately have to listen to the soft moans and panting of a stunning girl you could only ever wish to be. You couldn’t say that to him though, so you sat there quietly.

“See you don’t have one. Minho and Jisung will be here in forty-five. Get. Ready!” He spun around and left your room before you could argue more. So this would be your night, again. You just hoped your stupid heart could take it. Sure, being in love with your best friend and roommate is such a cute cliché trope until you’re living it, then its agony. You got up and started getting ready and by ready, you changed out of your work clothes into street clothes. You didn’t try, you just didn’t feel like faking it. So a basic pair of jeans, a tshirt, some converse, and your hair up in a ponytail was your attire for the evening.

Chan thought he was going to have to drag you from your room by force but when Minho and Jisung showed up you walked out dressed and ready. Naturally since Minho and Jisung were your two only other friends they knew you had feelings for Chan. Not because you ever told them, nor would you admit it when Minho would allude to it. Minho just wasn’t an idiot and had eyes and Jisung... well Minho told him everything. Jisung was skeptical still. As soon as you walked out Minho knew something was off. You weren’t your normal glow-y self. He made fun of you constantly calling you concentrated sunshine because you just had this glow about you that made others around you smile and even though he teased you for it he found it endearing and a wonderful quality to have in a friend but that night he didn’t see it. He walked up to you.

“You feeling okay?” You nodded.

“Yea sure like a million dollars.” You deadpanned and went to walk past him to follow Jisung and Chan out the door but he stopped you.

“Hey...” You looked at him and your eyes just looked empty.

“You sure you should be going out?” You took a deep breath and tried to get a grip.

“I’m okay Min really, let's just go please?” He was concerned but he wasn’t going to push you, not tonight at least. He grabbed your hand and you both headed out the door with your friends.

Once you all arrived at the club the guys migrated towards the dance floor like you all always did, dance, then drink. You broke off and made your way over to the bar quietly. When Minho turned to make sure you were still right behind him, he didn’t see you anywhere. Chan already had a gorgeous girl in a silver sling of a club dress shaking her ass and backing it up on him and Jisung was just dancing with the mass of people. Minho couldn’t just dance and have carefree fun knowing you weren’t, he walked over to Chan and his ‘dance partner’.

“Hey, did you see where y/n went off to? She was right behind me then gone.” Minho yelled over the music.

“Probably getting a drink she’s been in a mood today I don’t know why.” Minho watched the girl grind her ass against Chan’s crotch and Chan’s hand slid across her backside as he moved his hips with her. Minho rolled his eyes, of course he didn’t know why.

“You're my best friend but you’re an idiot sometimes...” Minho mumbled.

“Huh?” Chan couldn’t hear him over the music, Minho raised his voice over it again.

“I said I’m gonna check by the bar.” Chan nodded and waved at Minho as he made his way towards the bar rail. You had initially been at the bar but as soon as you had a drink you made your way over to one of the tables you would sit at usually. When Minho didn’t find you at the bar he knew he’d find you there. He slid in next to you at the booth you’d chosen for the night. You downed the rest of your glass and he looked at you.

“How many is that?” You looked at him blankly.

“Does it matter?” He arched one of his perfectly shaped eyebrows at you and narrowed his eyes. You sighed.

“It’s only my first calm down officer.” Minho nodded.

“Come, dance with me.”

“Pass.” Minho grabbed you by the hand and pulled you.

“I don’t think that was a request. Dancing, now.” You got up because at least you could get another drink in the process. Minho guided you towards the dance floor and started moving his body to the beat, you bobbed back and forth half-heartedly. By the second song Minho had gotten you to lighten up a bit, it helped that Jisung had joined you both and you had your friends near you. Well not all of them. You had been watching your feet or looking at Minho so you could read his lips when he spoke to you. Then you scanned the mass of people dancing and your eyes landed right on Chan and the silver dress girl making out and dancing, Chan’s hand gripping her ass as she giggled and he kissed her neck, their sweaty body’s moving in tandem with each other. Your face fell as your heart shattered into a million pieces. Minho could see it happening in your eyes. He scanned your line of sight and saw Chan and the girl. Before Minho could say anything, you excused yourself.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” You pried your way through the people on the dance floor trying to get out of there and into the fresh air, you needed air. Jisung was confused when you dashed off and Minho just raised his hand as he followed you.

“Just... stay here I’ve got her.” Minho cut through the crowd right behind you. You burst out the club door and into the cool night, taking gasps of air trying to will any and everything in your stomach to stay put. Minho popped out a second later and almost bumped right into you.

“Hey, look... you know... about Ch-” You cut Minho off.

“It was just hot I needed some air.” Minho rolled his eyes at you.

“y/n I know-” You cut him off more forcefully, tears slightly collecting in the corners of your eyes.

“I was hot Minho!” He stopped, pushing you would do no good and he didn’t want to upset you more than you already were. You sniffled a bit and pushed the tears back down.

“I’ll be back inside in a minute.” He looked at you unable to hide the concern on his face.

“Promise.” You said. He accepted that and headed back inside. You got yourself together outside and made your way back into the club a few minutes after Minho. You walked up to the bar, you promised Minho you’d come back inside, you didn’t say you wouldn’t drink. You were done dancing for the night you were ready to drink and forget. Forget the image of Chan and some gorgeous girl dry humping on the dance floor that was burned into your mind. You got your drink, several in fact, and made your way to your table again. Your drink of choice? Instant amnesia, tequila shots. Shortly after shot number six? Seven? Who cared. Shortly after you knocked back yet another shot Minho, Jisung, and Chan all crowded the table, the beautiful girl in the silver dress glued to Chan’s side. Minho snatched the empty shot glass out of your hand frustrated.

“Did you drink all these?” He motioned at the slew of empty shot glasses in front of you. You just nodded and Minho sighed and looked over at Jisung who looked concerned but unsure how to help. The girl whispered something in Chan’s ear and he nodded laughing making Minho look over at him. Chan raised his eyebrows.

“What?” Minho shook his head and motioned towards you.

“Do you maybe wanna try and help me here?” Chan held up one finger to the girl. He slid into the booth seat next to you and she sat on the edge right by him.

“What’s up?” He nudged you and you shook your head.

“Why is everyone acting like this isn’t what we do every time we’re at the club? I drink and you guys...” You lifted your head enough to look over at the girl next to Chan.

“do you. Just leave me alone.” Chan didn’t get why you were acting like this. So you had a bad week at work, you didn’t usually take that out on them and you definitely were never so short with them.

“What’s your problem tonight?” You narrowed your eyes at him and then dropped your head back down.

“Just leave me alone, I’m always alone anyway just...” Chan got a look on his face like the lightbulb just went off. So that was it you were upset no guys were approaching you. When Minho saw that look on Chan’s face he was almost certain it was the wrong lightbulb going off and braced for grade A Chan foot in mouth material.

“Well of course, you’re dressed as frumpy as your attitude.” You looked at him with your jaw dropped as tears instantly pricked your eyes. Minho literally face palmed and even Jisung thought that was way harsh to say. Chan realized it was too far the moment it left his mouth.

“Move and let me out.” You said quietly but sternly. The girl stood while Chan put his hands up and didn’t budge.

“Wait...” You looked him right in the endless pools of brown you usually adored as your tears threatened to fall. It wasn’t even just that he’d said it but to say it in front of that beautiful girl, it tore your guts out.

“Bang Christopher Chan move, or I will scream.” You took a deep breath preparing to scream as loud as you could, a tear slipping down your cheek and he quickly got up. You pulled yourself out of the booth and walked away without a word as they all watched.

“Wow Chan of all the bone head things to say... I didn’t think you could say something so heartless, especially to y/n.” Before Chan could say anything Minho took off after you. You were drunk and crying against a brick wall when he found you. He promised not to ask or say anything, he just wanted to make sure you got home safe. He put his arm around you and walked you back to your apartment. Back in the club Jisung and Chan stood there in shock for a second. Neither of them had ever seen you like that before, then Jisung turned to Chan and gave him an angry look.

“I know I know I feel like shit I’ll go apologize to her.” Chan turned to the girl that had been his dance partner and then some for the night.

“Uhh sorry I’ve... I’ve gotta fix this, she’s my best friend.” She looked irritated but nodded and left for the dance floor again. Jisung suggested taking the long way back to your place to give you a little time to cool down and Chan decided that was probably a good idea. By the time you and Minho got to your place you had stopped crying. He led you to your room where he helped you take off your shoes and get into bed, you threw the cover back and peeled off your jeans leaving you in your panties before laying back. Minho’s face turned a little red and he looked away until you were covered again. He grabbed you a bottle of water and dragged your trash can by your bed in case you had to vomit. He went to leave your room and let you get some sleep but your voice came out tiny and shaky and it stopped him.

“He doesn’t love me.” Minho turned.

“Who?” He asked although he knew.

“Chan.” It was the first time you’d ever admitted out loud to him that you were in love with Chan. Minho knew Chan was oblivious to it and he knew Chan loved you; they all did, but he really didn’t know if Chan was in love with you.

“I don’t know, try not to think about it right now, okay? Get some rest.” You curled up and turned towards Minho.

“Min?” He hummed smiling softly at you, he hated seeing that spark in your eye smothered by your tears.

“Nothing.” He nodded.

“Good night y/n. Sleep well.” He pulled your bedroom door closed and locked up on his way out. On Minho’s way home he ran into Jisung and Chan who had taken the long way so were walking from the opposite direction. Chan jogged up to him quickly.

“Did you find her? Is she okay?” Minho nodded.

“Yea I found her. She’s home, she’s in bed now.” Chan sighed in relief.

“Thanks Min. I’ll make it right.” Minho nodded

“I sure hope so.” Then Minho and Jisung headed towards their own apartment. When Chan got home he made sure to quietly unlock the front door. When he turned to go down the hall towards your rooms there you were in your tshirt and panties braced against the wall trying to get to the bathroom to brush the taste of tequila out of your mouth. If you weren’t still drunk you would have been mortified to be standing in front of Chan in your panties.

“Oh hey, Minho said you were asleep already.” You shrugged.

“Sorry to disappoint you but I’ll be sure to put earbuds in so you and your slumber party pal can be as loud as you want.” Chan’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Slumber party pal?” You pushed your fingers into your eyes and fought the migraine that was starting to form. You tried to walk into the bathroom and he stopped you.

“Wait. What are you talking about? Do you mean the girl from the club?” What did that have to do with it. Chan was confused.

“Yes the girl who’s attitude and certainly her dress were far from frumpy.” You could feel tears starting to form in your eyes again. You’d hoped you’d cried all you had in you. Chan felt the slap to the face your words were meant to carry.

“y/n I shouldn’t have...” You cut him off angry.

“You think I don’t know what you mean when you say that?!” Chan shook his head he didn’t understand, what he meant?

“That I’m fat! I’m fat and not pretty! I’m fat and why would anyone approach someone like me! That I wasn’t her! You don’t think I know it already?! I see the way you look at her and I see the way you look at me and I know!” You looked down crying and realized you were standing there like a fool with no pants on. You ran to your room and slammed the door grabbing sweats and pulling them on before crawling into your bed hopeful that it would swallow you and take you away. Your head was pounding and you felt like you wanted to throw up, you just wanted to disappear.

Chan stood there absolutely stunned. Why did you feel like you needed to compare yourself to that other girl? The alcohol was skewing your perspective, it had to be. You didn’t really think he meant that did you? You didn’t really think that about yourself, right? Sure the girl he was dancing with was beautiful but he thought you were beautiful too, you knew that, you knew he thought you were pretty. He thought it all the time when he watched you cooking dinner in the kitchen or when you both were curled up watching a documentary on sea cucumbers, he thought you were the prettiest when you laughed, which you did often... usually, not so much lately. You had to know because he thought it all the time... he thought.

Thinking and saying are two totally different things. He tried to remember a time he’d told you that you looked pretty or that he thought you were beautiful and he couldn’t think of one, he couldn’t think of not one time he’d actually said out loud that he thought you were pretty. Underneath he knew a lot of other feelings came up with that statement, feelings he wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with, feelings that may scare you, feelings that might make you uncomfortable. You lived together, things could get messy saying things like that, so he’d thought it all the time but looking back he’d never really said it. Then he said that. God he was an idiot.

He walked up to your door and could hear you sniffling on the other side. He knocked and then walked in like he always did. When he did you turned your back to him. Your voice was small again, choked.

“Go away.” Chan shook his head and took another step in.

“No. I need to say something.” You buried your head deeper into your pillow.

“Go awa-”

“I think you’re beautiful.” You closed your eyes tightly, tears soaking your pillow.

“Stop...”

“I think you’re so beautiful and your body is...” You sat up and faced him. He had to stop.

“Shut up! Chan just shut. Up!”

“And your body is perf-” You got up and stormed towards him. You started beating on his chest with your fists and he held your arms stopping you, your eyes closed tight crying even harder, screaming at him.

“Shut up! Shut up! Don’t lie to me! Don’t you ever fucking lie to me! I hate you! I hate you for doing this to me! I hate you for making me love you!” You collapsed to the floor in front of him, curled up sobbing and whimpering at his feet.

“Liar... I hate you...” You choked out quietly and Chan stood there frozen by your confession. He looked down and saw you, then laid down on the floor beside you. He didn’t try to make you talk or hold you, he just curled up and laid there with you so you weren’t alone. He’d never leave you alone, you were his best friend and so much more. It wasn’t long before all the night’s events caught up and you both fell asleep next to each other on the floor.

The next morning you woke up stiff and sore, your head was pounding not only from the alcohol but also the endless crying you’d done the night before. You winced as you opened your eyes and then realized the warmth behind you and an arm draped over you. You turned your head a little to look and saw Chan laying by you on the floor, his arm around you. You quickly scrambled away, waking him up in the process. You sat on the floor by your bed your knees pulled up to your chest. Your chest that felt so heavy, heavy filled with the memories and the pain from last night. Chan sat up and tried to see you through his sleep swollen eyes.

“Uh hey... um, good morning...” He said in his deep groggy voice. You bowed your head.

“Morning.” You replied quietly. Chan sat there and stared at you for a second until you started to squirm. He wasn’t sure what all you remembered from the night before. He finally snapped out of it and struggled standing up, stiff from sleeping on the hard floor.

“I uh... will let you wash up then.” You nodded and he turned and left your room. You grabbed a fresh tshirt and pair of sweats and hurried to the bathroom. You took the longest shower of your life, brushed your teeth and felt a little better. Not great but you could open your eyes all the way at least. As you were coming out of the bathroom Chan was walking into the hall from the living room and you almost bumped into each other.

“Oh, sorry.” He said as his hands gently held your arms to stop you from stumbling. You quickly pulled away.

“It’s fine.” You practically ran for your room and shut the door. Chan knew for sure that you remembered at least part of the night before. He ran his fingers through his messy curls frustrated with himself and went into the bathroom to shower as well. When he was done he threw on some shorts and as he pulled his tshirt over his head you tapped at his door.

“Yea?” You cracked it just a little and kept your eyes glued to the floor.

“Um, I... can I talk to you?” Chan nodded.

“Yea of course come-”

“In the living room whenever you're done.” You quickly added. He frowned a little but shook his head.

“Yea I’ll be right out.” You gave him a single nod and closed the door. It wasn’t long before Chan walked out into the living room. You were sitting on one end of the couch just kind of zoned out until he walked in. He walked over and sat on the other end of the couch turned towards you. When you finally willed yourself to look at him you couldn’t help the small frown that shifted onto your face when you saw him sitting there with his wet curls and hopeful eyes. Chan’s heart squeezed in his chest seeing your frown.

“I think I should move out.” Like a bucket of ice water was thrown on Chan, that was his expression.

“WHAT? WHY!?” You scoffed at his reaction and his question.

“Seriously Chan? You know why. I was drunk but I remember everything. I just... need some... space, some time away...” You watched your hands as you picked at your cuticles.

“From me?” Chan said pained. You looked up at him with tears rimming your eyes and nodded. It was like the wind had been knocked out of him and he was hit with a realization that he’d taken so much for granted, a realization that he was losing you. You stood up to head back to your room and Chan gently grabbed your wrist stopping you.

“Last night, when I told you you’r-” You shook your head.

“No, stop. I’m going to pack a bag and stay with Minho and Jisung for now. As soon as I have arrangements made I’ll let you know and be back for my things, I’ll try to be quick.” Tears were streaking Chan’s face now as well as your own. You pulled your wrist free and did just as you said you were, you went to your room and packed clothes and toiletries to take with you to Minho and Jisung’s. On your way out you crossed through the living room and Chan was sitting in the same spot, still with tears running down his cheeks. You walked over and when you knelt in front of him he looked over at you, his eyes glassy with tears. You pushed his damp curls back, and he sniffled, you softly kissed his cheek and then stood and left. Chan broke down crying when he heard the door click closed behind you.

When you got to Jisung and Minho’s place the first thing you did was fall into Jisung’s embrace and cry uncontrollably. You had been strong through the whole thing and now you didn’t have to be so you cried. Jisung sat on the couch with you and let you while Minho made some tea for you all. After a good cry and some tea you got unpacked in the guest room. You all were settled in the living room watching tv after dinner when there was a knock at the door. Minho and Jisung, one on each side of you, looked at each other. Neither were expecting anyone but both knew exactly who it was, you did too. Minho got up to answer the door.

“Min...” You called him. He turned and saw your eyes, big and worried. He held up a finger nodding and turned to go answer the door. When he opened it unsurprisingly Chan was standing there.

“I need to talk to y/n.” Chan tried to walk in and Minho blocked him.

“You need to give it some time Chan there’s more to this for her than you realize.” Chan pressed his lips together tightly; he knew what was at stake and he wasn’t going to lose you without a fight.

“Minho, I need to talk to her let me through.” Minho shook his head.

“Chan-”

“She needs to come home!” Chan said loudly.

“y/n please come home!” He shouted into the apartment

“Please! Just stay with me!” Minho pushed Chan out of the doorway and walked into the hall with him pulling the door closed behind him.

“What the hell are you doing man? Are you hearing me? There’s more to this than you think!” Chan pushed back against Minho.

“I’m in love with her! She needs to come home, she needs to be home with me! So I can apologize, so I can cook her favorite dinner and grab that lemon lime sorbet that she loves at the corner store, so I can hold her and kiss her and tell her everything I should have long before now.” Chan shouted, huge tears in his eyes. Minho was stunned. Once he had his wits about him again he shook his head.

“All that aside Chan. It’s not the time for this. Just... give her some time.” He spoke softly, Minho didn’t want to have to hurt his friend and turn him away but he couldn’t hurt you either. Chan nodded, turned, and left without another word, he understood. When Minho walked back into the apartment you were standing at the opening of the foyer wide eyes filled with tears.

“Mi-Minho... did... Chan... did he just...”

“Say that he loved you?” You nodded and a tear fell.

“Yea, he did.” You took a deep shuddering breath and braced yourself against the wall.

“He looked awful. It’s only been part of a day but he looked like absolute hell not having you home.” You nodded, staring off as your thoughts spun a million miles an hour in your head. Chan loved you? Like you loved him? It was impossible. You didn’t know what to do. You were so confused. You had so many questions. You finally looked up at Minho.

“Wha- should I go home? What do I do?” Minho shrugged.

“Do you love him still?”

“I’ll always love him.” Minho raised his brow at you knowingly. It was late but you didn’t care. You ran to the guest room, threw on some jeans and your tennis shoes and started towards you and Chan’s apartment. When you got there you unlocked the door quietly and tip-toed in so you didn’t make any noise in case Chan was already asleep. You walked into the living room and Chan was on the couch. His head was tilted back resting on the back of the couch and his arm was thrown over his eyes. You weren’t sure if he was sleeping or not. You made your way over and stood in front of him. When Chan felt someone standing near him he jumped before he realized it was you. He relaxed and sat there looking up at you with big brown glassy eyes.

“y/n?” You nodded trying to fight back your own tears already. He didn’t say anything he just sat up and wrapped his arms around your midsection and hugged you, his head resting on your soft tummy. You hugged him, your fingers resting in his curls. He leaned back and looked up at you and you pushed his curls back away from his face.

“I’m so sorry y/n, I should’ve never said that to you it wasn’t right and I...” You shook your head.

“We have a lot to talk about and we will, I just have one question right now.” Chan nodded, his eyes piercing into yours.

“Are you in love with me?” Chan shook his head up and down without a second of hesitation. He did, he knew.

“Say it.” He sat up straight and looked at you, into you.

“I’m in love with you y/n. I love you. I love you so m-” You leaned down and kissed him softly. He cupped your face and tilted his head, deepening the kiss. You broke away to take a breath and Chan pressed his forehead against yours, his hands resting on your wide hips, guiding you to kneel and rest on his lap, a thick thigh resting on either side of Chan’s strong legs. His hands slid down your thighs and squeezed even through the material it sent a shiver up your spine. You steadied yourself by holding on to Chan’s broad shoulders. Those same strong hands squeezing your thighs came up and held your face so softly, his thumb grazing the apple of your cheek. Tears started to well up in your eyes, Chan gently shook his head and pulled you in to kiss you again, pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth softly. You opened your mouth allowing him to slide his tongue inside. Chan wrapped his arms around you and pulled you all the way down onto his lap and you could feel him pressing into you making you throb with want as he devoured your lips. His hands ghosted down your back and rested on your hips urging you to move against him and you moaned into the kiss.

“Sound... so pretty... baby girl.” He mumbled as he kissed down your neck. You could feel yourself getting wetter hearing the sweet pet name. You tilted your head giving him better access to his target.

“Ch-Chan... wha-what are we... doing?” You panted as your hips ground together, as his hands gripped, and his lips explored. He pulled away when you asked, he was a little red and breathless chewing at his bottom lip.

“Uh wha... what do you want?” You looked at him and pushed his curls back away from his beautiful face again.

“You.” He smiled and touched your face.

“Then... I’m yours.” You kissed him hard then scrambled to get up and get your jeans and panties off. As soon as Chan realized what you were doing he lifted his hips and pulled his shorts and briefs down to his ankles. You quickly climbed back onto his lap, there was no time to be shy or bashful as Chan lined up his cock with your wet hole and eased you down on to him. You both moaned and you gasped when you were fully seated in Chan’s lap again, only this time with his dick buried deep inside you.

“Oh god!” Chan held onto your hips, his lip between his teeth, eyes closed tightly as he felt you squeeze his length with your warm soft walls. When he finally opened his eyes he saw you looking down at him, your eyes sparkling. You pulled at the hem of his shirt and took it off over his head running your hands up and down his firm torso over his chest and abs and back up again. Chan sat up his cock moving inside you deliciously making you squirm as his hands traveled up your plush body lifting your shirt up and over your head, your full breasts lined up with his face, he sucked on one and then the other, squeezing and pushing them together then raking his teeth across your hard nipples.

“Ch-Chan... please...” He let go of your breasts and his hands slid down your curvy frame and rested on your ass. He leaned back on the couch then squeezed and pulled your hips forward and then pushed them back as he rolled his hips up into you.

“Like that baby girl... ride it just like that.” You planted your hands low on his abs and pushed your hips forward and then back again on your own. You moved again and again and set a rhythm. Chan’s head rolled back and his eyes closed.

“Does it feel good?” You needed to know you he was enjoying it, you wanted to make him feel good. Chan looked at you blushing and smiling as you rode his cock.

“Mhmm yes, you feel so good baby, don’t stop.” He squeezed your thick ass and urged you to move faster. Your breaths shortened as your hips moved quicker.

“G-gonna cum... Ch-Chan go-gonna cu-” Your eyes rolled back into your head as you wrapped your arms around Chan’s head hugging him tight, his face buried in your big tits again. Chan could feel you dripping down his cock as you came on top of him, your hips stuttering and Chan helped you ride it out as he rolled his hips up into you harder. When you finally let go of him Chan slumped back on the couch again, held up your hips forcing you forward making you brace onto the back of the couch and with his strong hands holding you up he started pounding into you from underneath not only chasing his own high but sending you nosediving into another orgasm. More of your arousal dripped down his cock and there was a lewd smacking sound every time Chan hammered his dick into your wet cunt. He put you down and sat back up pulling you close as your cunt took his whole cock. It was messy grinding and rubbing and wet and as you shook and trembled through your third orgasm. Chan pulled you closer still, he held you tight and came deep inside you as he cupped your face and sweetly kissed your lips. You sat there sweaty and out of breath on Chan’s lap your head resting on one of his shoulders, his arms wrapped around you as his cock softened inside you. When you caught your breath and the adrenalin wore down the gravity of what just happened hit you like a train and you started to cry. Chan pulled you up and held your face worried.

“Hey hey, what’s wrong huh? Baby don’t cry.” Hearing him call you by the sweet pet name only made you cry harder. He hugged you close again and grabbed the throw blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around you. He rubbed your back and held you until you were calm again.

“Sorry it was just a lot of big feelings all at once and I got a little overwhelmed.” Chan shook his head as he continued tracing shapes on your back to soothe you.

“Don’t be sorry I understand. Are you okay now?” You nodded and sat up and Chan smiled at you his dimples popping up.

“Good. Why don’t we wash up and get to bed. We’ll talk about everything first thing tomorrow, including you moving out of your room. You were confused and frowned a little.

“You... you still think I should?” Chan nodded.

“Absolutlely. My room is bigger so it just makes sense for you to move into mine over me moving into yours.” You let out a huge sigh of relief and shoved him a little. He hugged you close and kissed your neck.

“I love you baby girl.” You melted into his hug.

@acciocriativity @caroline-ds-world @chansynie @ughbehavior @jquellen27 @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny @owo-manii-uwu @armystay89 @b00dyguts @purplenimsicle @caticorn61 @lauraneuuh @channieandhisgoonsquad @life-is-glorious @minnysproutgriffinteddy

“I love you too Chan.”

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

#stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #chan smut #chris bang smut #skz317cb97 #cal 🖤

1K notes · View notes

eundiarys · 1 year

Text

ENHYPEN AS ROMANTIC TROPES.

song recommendation : stuck with u by ariana grande ♥︎ no warnings genre all fluff hehe >_< — 1,647 words

001. lee heeseung — highschool sweethearts

• you were class president and he was the school’s troublemaker. you were sick and tired of his stupid jokes, but he didn’t mean too. it was the only way for him to get your attention! and when you don’t give him any, he gets sad 🙁

• though after awhile, he stops doing so much cause he sees you being tired of the trouble he makes and he also feels bad T__T

• and then he tries to get close to you some other ways. and slowly you start warming up to him. how could you not? he gives you his undivided attention when you’re stressed, brings you food when you skipped meals because you were too busy, and even comforts you.

• when you guys started dating, everyone is in shock. seriously? the class president and the troublemaker? it’s like were living in a cliché highschool romance drama.

• neither of you cared though, because he loved you and you loved him. that’s what matters. until now, he still can’t get himself to change the nickname he has for you.

• “hi class prez, did you miss me?” “hee baby, we left highschool 5 years ago.” “nono, you’re still class prez to me. because you still nag me 24/7” “HEY!!!”

002. park jongseong — first love

• met in a class. you forgot your pen and it was the first day. you thought he looked nice, so you asked him to lend you a pen. and then you started talking then boom! feelings appear~ not gonna go to detail this isn’t a fanfic

• something like a opposites attract hehe, he thinks its amazing how he fell in love with you regardless being polar opposites. that’s one of the reasons he had faith in your relationship. met at a class, you asked him for a pen because you forgot. then started talking.

• neither of you expected this relationship. but you’re both glad it happened. you have had failed relationships, thought it didn’t effect you. you always thought because he and she weren’t the one. but even one small fight between you guys, you felt like crying and it effected you so much.

• he’ll be extra sweet when he realises he likes you, but won’t ask you out until the right time. he wants it to be perfect. because you are gonna be his first and last love.

003. sim jaeyun — best friends to lovers

• he knew he liked you from the beginning. but your oblivious ass can’t seem to catch the obvious hints hes giving.

• he buys you anything you want right away, he flirts with you (and when you flirt back he gets sooo red 🥹), he says i love you more often that usual, but you just think it’s normal.

• hes being patient, but that patience runs out when he heard you got a love letter and is seeing the secret admirer soon to talk. he rushes to where you are meeting him, just to see you alone.

• “yn? where is he?” “if you’re talking about the love letter guy, i rejected him and he left.”

• he sighs in relief, and you just chuckle before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. leaving him into a blushing mess. (literally he’s so red and shy and confused and u think it’s so adorable!)

• “i like you too, jake. now let’s go” he grins and quickly followed you around like a lost puppy. a cute lost puppy. hehe!!

004. park sunghoon — soulmates

• met at a coffee shop. wanted to ask for your number but chickened out so he just gave a heart beside your name when he wrote it on your cup. (he thinks its enough of a hint).

• he was absolutely devastated when you didn’t ask him for his number. he thinks he’ll never see you again and thinks it was stupid of him to be so scared.

• but few days later?? you start coming back?? when jake called him and told him you were here he literally rushed out to see if it was true. and there you were, standing infront of the cashier checking out the menu.

• he decided to try and get you interested (?) by drawing little faces and animals on your cup. first time he did it, he saw you laugh at it and look around for the barista who drew it. and ever since then, when you come in he’ll do the same thing just yo hear you laugh again

• but one day. you completely stopped coming. he was depressed. but that when jake told him to take out the trash, instead of arguing about it he just did it. and there you were. by the trash..? WHAT?

• he stared at you, a bit confused. “hi! um this is really weird because im telling you this beside a trash can but um can i have your number? ive been trying to talk to you ever since you drew stuff on my cup but you just won’t look at me” you sighed.

• “i didn’t look at you because you were really pretty. i get so shy everytime i look at you…” “hehe, you’re adorable.”

• “well um.. you want coffee? on the house.” “i can never reject free coffee, so of course.” he gave you a small smile before walking in again with you. just know that you guys talked the whole night.

005. kim sunoo — friend’s brother

• you and your best friend sieun had your own rules of the friendship. and rule #9 is siblings are off limits. aka you can’t have a crush or date kim sunoo and she can’t date or have a crush on your brother.

• but sunoo was hard to ignore. he was sweet and good looking. it didn’t help when he always flirted with you whenever you come over.

• but of course, you catch feelings for him. and he did too. you guys secretly dated, doing stupid stuff all day long and trying your best to not get caught :-)

• after a few months you talked to your friend about it, and it turns out she doesn’t even mind. “yn, that rule is stupid! ignore that specific rule, i don’t mind seriously.”

• atleast you can kiss him infront of everyone now.

006. yang jungwon — childhood friends

• I THINK THIS FITS HIM SOOO WELL <3 okok so you guys met in a playground, he accidentally pushed you and he apologised by giving you his ice cream. guess that formed an instant friendship.

• from playdates to same schools to best friends to inseparable to literally soulmates. literally. he got more popular in highschool, which made lots of girls ask you if you guys are dating, how long you’ve known eachother, and to set you up with him.

• how did the boy who had red cheeks and cried whenever he fell down turn into the most handsome and sweet boy ever?

• one day, he told you he had a crush. he also said that he liked this girl for ages, but never seem to get the hint. so he asked you, a girl, for tips.

• your heart ached a bit but anything for your best friend. you made lots of ideas, picnic date confession idea, sunset confession idea, love letter idea. and he liked all of it.

• “hey yn, which ones are your favourite?” he asked. “oh, well none of them are what i like” you gave him a small smile.

• “what? then what kinds do you like?” “i just like people just telling me about how they feel. flowers and stuff or whatever. i like whatever they think is best”

• and that’s exactly how he confessed.

• and of course everyone approved of it, because they all knew you guys were bound to fall in love. especially both of your families, they think you guys are just so sweet.

007. nishimura riki — one sided enemies (to lovers)

• you hated him. well hate is a strong word, just well. dislike. ever since you met him, he never fails to get on your nerves. NEVER FAILS. it annoyed you how good he is at annoying you.

• but then you hear rumors he has a crush on someone? right after hearing about it, you went straight to him to tease him about it. hey, you needed to win once!

• he was with his friends, but when he saw you he said something to them to make them all look at you and went away all at once. he probably wants to bother you again.

• “i heard that THE nishimura riki has a crush on someone.” his eyes widened, not expecting to hear that.

• “um. did you hear who?” his face flushed as he asked.

• you shake your head. “i’ve never seen him get so shy, she must be special.” he slowly looked up again and nodded. “she is.”

• “want tips? other than your pain in the ass attitude, there isn’t 0 chance she won’t like you back.” why the hell am i offering to help him what the fuck.

• “oh, you think so? then i’ll tell her right away” “damn. that fast? that was all you needed? you really have a big ego. well then, goodluck—”

• before you could leave, he took your hand and held it. why’s he holding my hand? does he want more tips? or is it because— oh. OH.

• you felt your face grow hotter, and he saw. just gave you a small chuckle before looking at you in the eyes and saying “i know ive been mean, but teasing’s just my love language. give me a chance, and i’ll be good to you. i promise, pretty girl.”

honorable mentions (aka my oomfs) ♡ @yeniiverse @hanniluvi @imhuh @lcv3lies @yyunari and all of my followers :D !!!

love, jules ｡⋆ ☆⋆ ˚ needed my enhypen writer debut.. so here it is !!! please give feedbacks and i hope you enjoyed!

2K notes · View notes

superectojazzmage · 10 months

Text

Watched the Nimona movie last night. Review I guess. It was pretty damn good. Definitely would’ve probably been regarded as Blue Sky’s magnum opus if they’d gotten to release it instead of being fucked over by Disney. Very cute, very funny, very powerful in the right moments. A thing that stuck out to me is that it’s really only an adaptation in the loosest sense of the word. It takes the core premise and beats of the comic but is functionally an entirely different kind of story that does its own thing. And given that ND Stevenson was heavily involved in production, I suspect that was intentional.

The comic was much darker and more downbeat in a lot of ways, plus it was significantly longer and thus could afford to be slower paced. But more than that, it was a lot more meaty in terms of themes and scope. The whole “LGBT allegory” element was there, but it wasn’t the sole focus, the comic was a story about a lot of different things; not just an LGBT experience, but also discussion of fantasy genre tropes and clichés, criticism of other fantasy deconstructions, character study, exploring what it means to be a hero or villain, critique of the glorification of crime and cruelty in underprivileged communities, corruption in governments, peer pressure, the senseless and self-perpetuating nature of violence, the worthlessness of revenge, etc.. And above all that, it was a story about trauma and people’s responses to it, with Ballister representing people who actually deal with their problems and move on while Nimona represented people who let their mistakes and suffering and grief consume their identity, or worse, use it as an excuse to indulge their worst qualities and take out their feelings on everyone around them.

The movie, by contrast, has a much more narrow focus. The LGBT allegory is front and center and basically the entire focal point of the movie, aside from a spattering of themes about the danger of zealotry and rigid fundamentalist thinking. This gives the movie a much tighter narrative and pacing that suits its inherently shorter runtime, but also leads to a ton of changes to the story either to convey a different kind of message or just work better in a different medium. Most obviously in how Nimona is vastly more sympathetic in the movie and essentially really is the silly gremlin the comic fakes you out into thinking she is, scrapping the comic’s twist that she was a genuinely bad person who was completely serious about wanting to be a villain, caring nothing for the lives she destroyed with her behavior and idolizing Ballister because she thought he was the same as her and would thus tell her what she wanted to hear (i.e., that she was justified in killing and destroying everything around her in the name of getting even). And in the changes to the Institution’s history and nature. And all sorts of other things.

All in all, I feel if you go in comparing and contrasting the movie and the comic, arguing which changes are for the better or worse, you’ll be setting yourself up for disappointment in either direction because they’re two different beasts and it’s like comparing apples and oranges. So keep that in mind if you’re a fan of the comic watching the movie or a fan of the movie wanting to look into the comic. I think ultimately I still like the comic better, but that’s purely my personal opinion and there’s plenty that I think the movie did better.

Some other observations:

Riz Ahmed my beloved, thank you Mr. Stevenson for this perfect casting. Literally perfect for Ballister.

Acting in general was very good. You can tell this was a passion project for a lot of people, not just Stevenson.

Only two changes that are objectively bad are Ambrosius losing his awesome Van Halen hairdo and changing Ballister’s last name — Blackheart is a way cooler name than Boldheart and it’s a pointless change, one that I’d argue even hurts the narrative since it makes it too obvious that Ballister isn’t actually a bad guy.

The animation is really great with fantastic expressions, stylish movement, and wonderful aesthetics that perfectly suit the story, but there’s times where it feels a little off. But there are parts where it looks less “movie” and more “cheap mid-2000s CGI-and-Flash cartoon show from France”.

The humor can be a hit and miss, in a “going through the motions of a Hollywood animated comedy for kids” way. The movie excels when it’s either imitating the comic’s Old Internet sense of humor or going hard on the drama, but there’s bits where it seemingly slams on the brakes to do Illumination-esque Twitter humor and those bits definitely throw off the vibe.

Having an actual straight up attempted suicide in the climax was shockingly ballsy. I genuinely can’t believe they went there, but I’m glad they did because the film wouldn’t have felt nearly as raw without it.

I don’t know how they managed to make the Director even more of an asshole than in the comics, but they did.

#nimona #nimona film #nd stevenson #ballister boldheart #ballister blackheart #ambrosius goldenloin #movie review #animated movies #movies #films #comic books #dc comics #webcomic #web comics #indie comics #netflix #blue sky studios #lgbt film #lgbt fantasy

719 notes · View notes

another-lost-mc · 5 months

Text

obey me x pokemon au: the great mammon wants to fight!

summary: when you decide to become a pokemon trainer, a familiar face from your childhood decides he's going to help you by not helping you. or that's what he tells himself, anyway.

featuring: mammon x gn!reader

content: sfw (suggestive towards the end). follows the vibes of generation one except they're adults and, y'know, not children. "rivals" to lovers trope and so many clichés. tbh this is mostly mammon challenging reader to pokemon battles instead of talking about his feelings. wc: 1.6k+

Mammon is there when you choose your first Pokemon and he boldly declares that he's going to be your rival. Apparently, it's going to toughen you up and you should be grateful. When you admit you've never battled before, he embellishes his own track record hoping to impress you. (It doesn't.)

"Your first challenger is the Great Mammon! You better be ready to cough up that prize money!" He summons a low-level Pokemon similar to yours, but your Pokemon has a type advantage over his and it's almost a landslide victory in your favour.

He scoffs when you seem surprised by how easy that was. "You’re lucky I wasn't trying that hard. The next time we meet, I won't hold back!"

He just happens to set out for his own adventure the same time you do. At one of the junctions just outside of town, there's a very clear fork in the road: left or right. You think he's going to follow you, but when you turn right, he pointedly goes left. You wish him luck but he doesn't look back, and your mood deflates a little. It would've been nice to have company for a journey like this, but you carry on and accept it might be a long time before you see him again.

As it turns out, you cross paths with Mammon much sooner than you think.

For someone who claims to be your rival, it's weird how often you run into him. It's too convenient that Mammon shows up exactly when you need help the most. He teams up with you whenever a pair of trainers tries to gang up on you, or when you wander into an area with Pokemon far stronger than your own. Your Pokemon learn to fight in sync with his because they spend so much time together.

No matter how many times you ask, Mammon refuses your offers to officially join you. Sometimes he shows up out of the blue to challenge you to a battle. Other times he shoves a bag of supplies - usually spare Pokeballs and potions - into your arms and takes off again.

For most of your journey, Mammon's not far behind you. There are a few times he beats you to your destination. It’s a rare treat when you arrive at the next gym in time to watch him battle against its leader. He gets flustered when he realizes you're watching from the sidelines, but his Pokemon preen under your rapt attention. His team's gotten a lot stronger too.

If you're last to challenge the town's gym leader, Mammon waits for you outside and drags you into another battle. You're not sure what he's trying to prove, but you reluctantly accept his challenge and defeat him once again.

He doesn't usually have much prize money to give you when he loses. You refuse to take the small amount of gold he has in his pockets. He's your friend and you don't even want his money, but that just seems to irritate him even more. He denies loudly and vehemently that you're nothing more than his rival.

You think losing would hurt less than the sting of his rejection.

Contrary to what he says, your not-a-friend keeps traveling the same path you do. It would be cute if he wasn't being so stubborn.

Your dream of becoming a Pokemon Champion draws closer with each gym leader you defeat. You fasten the shiny new badge from the eighth and final gym leader to your jacket, but your excitement is short-lived. There's a familiar figure waiting for you on the outskirts of town, and he's wearing all eight badges too.

"Mammon, do we have to keep doing this? We've come so far. I really don't want to fight you anymore."

But he just smirks and plucks a Pokeball off his belt. "How are you gonna beat the Elite Four if you can't beat me?"

It's a close battle - the closest one yet - but you add another victory to your winning streak against him.

After the dust settles (literally), Mammon storms away. You heal your Pokemon with some potions first and you heal his too. None of the Pokemon pick up on the tension between you and Mammon. In fact, they all play together like they weren't just locked in a feverish duel a few minutes before.

You look over your shoulder and spot Mammon under the shade of a nearby tree. The scowl on his face is unwelcoming and you decide to give him his space. You assume he's stewing in the disappointment of another defeat. You could say "I told you so," but that would probably make things worse. (And you don't want to make things worse.)

Besides, even if you asked him, Mammon wouldn't be able to tell you what's wrong. He watches his Pokemon flock to you for attention and you feed them berries from your satchel. Was it the fact that you beat him every time he challenged you to a battle? He's always been a sore loser. Or was it the realization that he wasted so much time being your rival when he could've just been your friend instead?

"I wonder if you ever needed me at all," Mammon mutters to himself. His voice is too quiet for you to hear.

Eventually he returns but his mood is indiscernible and you don't know what to say. By the time you're both packed and ready to leave, the bitter expression on Mammon's face is gone. He runs his hand through his hair, glancing at you from the corner of his eye while his cheeks darken slightly.

When he's not too busy being your rival, you think that he can be very charming.

"How do ya feel about goin' up Victory Road together?" He holds his hand out to you stiffly. "Y'know, safety in numbers and all." His expression softens when you immediately place your hand in his. He laces his fingers with yours and you both pretend neither of you are smiling.

You make it through Victory Road, but the playful banter between you fades into grim anticipation when you finally reach the steps of Indigo Plateau. You both sign up to challenge the Elite Four at the reception desk before you lose your nerve and run back out the door.

There must not be any other challengers because Mammon's name is called almost immediately. He looks as panicked as you feel; there's so much left unsaid but not enough time to say anything at all. When he passes through the door without a word and it slams shut behind him, you feel like you're going to cry. Regret sits heavy in the pit of your stomach but all you can do is wait.

It feels like an eternity before they finally call your name, and Mammon still hasn’t returned.

You try to push thoughts of him away so you can concentrate on battling your opponents and their formidable Pokemon. Adrenaline surges through you and your hands tremble each time you summon a new Pokemon to your side. One by one, you come out of each battle victorious. It feels like luck rather than strength or skill that's gotten you this far because your potion supply is dwindling. Doubt clouds your mind each time one of your Pokemon is knocked out but the third member of the Elite Four finally bows to you.

The battle with Lance, the final member of the Elite Four, is absolute chaos. Your Pokemon suffer the merciless onslaught of his powerful dragon-types, the likes of which you've never seen before. Somehow your team barely manages to secure your victory, but it's still too early to celebrate.

There's one more challenger waiting for you.

When Lance accepts his defeat and moves aside, you step into the next arena to face off with the region's newest Champion.

“Yo! I was wondering how long you were gonna keep me waitin’!”

You gape at Mammon who waves to you from the Champion's podium. He looks so happy to see you that you break the stunned silence with a sigh of relief that bubbles into giddy laughter.

He tosses his first Pokeball into the air and catches it again, over and over, while his confident smirk warms into something more teasing. "C'mon babe, it's just you 'n me at the top of the world. Show the Great Mammon what you've really got!"

Both your teams fight like they've never fought before. It's a knock-down-drag-out battle that shifts back and forth between your favour and his.

When your last Pokemon is the only one remaining and the battle is won, Mammon jogs across the arena to you. He hands you a bag filled with more prize money than you know what to do with. "I owe ya from all those times before, don't I? You deserve it. Besides, I got most of it from those losers back there."

He nearly loses his balance when you throw your arms around him and give him a hug. It only takes a moment for him to wrap his arms around your waist and melt against you.

"So, Champion," he murmurs, brushing his lips against your cheek with a smile, "how about we find somewhere to grab dinner and celebrate?"

The next morning, Mammon looks far too devilish with his messy white bedhead hair and starchy hotel sheets draped loosely across his hips. You're not sure you'll ever want to get out of bed when he looks like that, but when your tummy rumbles with hunger, you bashfully suggest getting up.

Mammon waggles his eyebrows and slides an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. His very thoughtful suggestion is staying put and eating a breakfast of champions instead.

(He holds up his hands in mock surrender after you hit him in the face with a pillow, and he agrees to go out after all - once you give him one last kiss, of course.)

read more: obey me x pokemon au masterlist | obey me masterlist

#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #mammon x reader #obey me x reader #obey me au #pokemon au #obey me x pokemon #gn!reader #x reader

235 notes · View notes

imagines--galore · 11 months

Note

Hello! Can I request a fake dating fic with Clark with coworker and best friend reader please :)

Pairing: Superman(Clark Kent) x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. A/N: Oooooooooooo I ADORE the fake-dating trope! Meep! Also vote for the second part here.

"Your mother thinks what?!"

Several nosy reporters poked their heads up from where they had been working on their latest scoops. Only to be greeted with the sight of you dragging Clark by the sleeve of his shirt and into the empty conference room. To anyone new it would've been an unusual sight, seeing someone as tall as Clark Kent be dragged by someone at least a head or two shorter them him. But the workers at the Daily Planet were used to seeing the two of you together.

Once inside the conference room and assured that no one else would hear you or Clark, you turned you attention back to him

"Keep your voice down!" You huffed, before giving a small shrug. "And its not a big deal."

"A big deal?! Y/n, you lied to your mother." The corner of your mouth twitched and you were unable to meet the disappointed look in his blue eyes. "I didn't lie to her per se."

Clark rolled his eyes, arms crossing over his broad chest. "Well you didn't correct her either."

Pouting slightly you threw him an accusing look. "Yeah well, its your fault isn't it? You shouldn't have gotten me such an expensive gift for my birthday! She just saw the necklace and when she asked who gave it to me I said you did, and then she just assumed we were going out and I.......I didn't correct her." Your voice trailed off, seeing that you weren't really going to win this argument.

At the mention of the necklace, your fingers had unconsciously lifted to run the tips of them along the piece of jewelry that you had taken to wearing since Clark gave it to you.

It was truly a gorgeous piece, and now counted as one of your most prized possessions. Not because it was probably expensive, but because Clark had been the one to give it to you. His gaze dropped to your throat as well, where the necklace lay just between your collarbone.

"And now she has invited us over this weekend to meet me?" Clark confirmed, finally meeting your eyes once more to which you gave a nod. "Well she wants to meet the new beau, her words not mine." You were quick to clarify, your eyes widening in horror at the word that had slipped you. "So you're suggesting we spend an entire evening together, and pretend that we're dating?"

You gave a little flinch. "Sounds cliché, I know." Clark only shook his head. "I should really stop you from watching those rom-coms you're always crying over." He grumbled under his breath. "Too many romantic ideas in your head makes for these kinds of situations."

You bristled. "Hey! I'll have you know I watch classical rom-coms, none of those new hallmark rom-coms that makes you wanna puke." You had a particular taste when it came to the movies you watched, although your best friend's taste was significantly different then yours.

Yes.

Best friends.

You and Clark were best friends who were now being roped into fake-dating. Why? Because you were too much of a coward to come out and tell the truth to your over-bearing hard to please mother.

This would either go really good or turn into a complete disaster.

————————–

A few hours later you and Clark were both at his apartment, sharing the food you had ordered to bribe him further.

"Well I suppose we should start setting the rules and such? At least thats what they do in movies." You suggested, once the Kryptonian had managed to go through half the food. A well-fed Clark was a happy Clark, you had learned long ago.

"Remind me again why am I doing this for you?" He asked, digging into your takeout container to steal one your chicken pieces. You smacked his chopsticks away with your own, pulling the container out of his reach.

"Because I'm buying you dinner here, and also because you love me." You stated in such a off-handed manner as you stuffed your mouth with chicken that you didn't even notice how Clark stiffened at your side at your words.

Polishing off the food you began to speak. "They'll be coming in a couple days, so dress nice, and appropriately. Make sure to wear your coat. I know you have an internal heater given that you're freakin' E.T." You gestured to his overall physique, to which he rolled his eyes at you. "But us puny humans get cold a lot, so coat, hat, and gloves."

"I know, Y/n." He said in an exasperated tone, to which you grinned. You loved messing with him, acting all delicate and weak just to tease him about his strength and powers. It was all in good fun though.

"She already knows how we met, and will probably ask really nosy questions. Dad will just sit there quietly and let her do all the talking. Besides he already likes you so you don't have to win him over." Clark looked up from where he had been pouring himself a drink.

"He does?" You smiled at him. His blue eyes were so hopeful and the smile he wore was so adorable. Did it really matter to him that your parents liked him?

You shrugged. "Well yeah. I mean I did tell him how you helped me out with the stalker situation, without telling him that you were Superman, and he was really grateful. Said it was good that I had someone sensible looking out for me." You poked your tongue out at the triumphant look in his eyes. "I agree with your father, between the two of us one of us should be the sensible one."

Raising an eyebrow at him you leaned towards him, arms wrapped around your legs which you had pulled up on the couch. Your eyes narrowed. "Remind me which one of us flies around wearing a cape and goes around actually looking for trouble?"

Clark gave a smug smile, leaning back against the couch and resting the back of his head on his forearm. "At least I can handle trouble. If I didn't, I couldn't have handled you all these years now could I?"

You scoffed, though you were unable to fight off the smirk that pulled at your lips. "Oh please. You? Handle me? I'd like to see you try."

"Is that an invitation?"

"Do you honestly need one Kent?"

"I am a gentleman Y/L/N. Of course I do."

"Alright fine! If you pull off convincing my mother we're dating, I'll let you handle me however you want."

Translation: You would do whatever he asked you to do.

"And if I loose, I'll take you up to the Watch Tower again."

"Sounds good! I'm due for a gossip session with Wally and Diana."

He stuck out his hand. "May the best of us win." You grinned, grasping his hand within your own and giving it a firm shake. "Oh, I will."

Clark only smirked. When it came to betting and competitions, you both had rather competitive streaks. Sometimes he would win, and other times you were the victor. It was always fun to one-up the other.

And you had a feeling this little competition would take the cake.

————————–

The day of the dinner arrived, and you spent the entire day pampering yourself. Just because it was a fake dinner date with your parents, with your fake boyfriend, it didn't mean you couldn't be looking nice.

Good think it was a Saturday. You were meeting your parents in the evening, and Clark would be picking you up. You had only just put the finishing touches on your makeup when the bell rang. Dashing to the door, quite the feat since you were wearing heels, you pulled it open.

The sight that greeted you had your mind short-circuiting.

Both of your office attires were semi-formal at best, and at home both of you wore the worst of your clothes. And though the image of Clark as Superman was impressive enough, nothing could beat the sight that your eyes feasted on right then.

You had told him to dress nicely, and clean up. And damn, did he clean up good. Under the winter coat he had on, he was wearing a black suit that was tailored to show off his muscular body perfectly. The shirt under the jacket was a deep red, which actually looked quite good with the black tie. You had a sudden urge to tug him forward by grabbing it, but you refrained yourself.

Little did you know, Clark was battling his own inner dilemma. Seeing you standing there in the dress you had chosen for the evening. Wearing the necklace he had gotten you. You were already beautiful on a daily basis, but right then you looked absolutely stunning.

Managing to come back to the present, you gave him a quick smile. "You clean up nice Kent. Just let me grab my coat and we'll get going." You pivoted on your heel to retrieve the garment, completely missing the way his blue eyes roamed the expanse of bare skin the dress left exposed.

Tonight would be a long night for him.

————————–

"So far so good."

You heaved a sigh as you slumped into your chair, with Clark drawing gentle circles on the back of your hand. You mother had gone to the powder room while your father stepped out for a quick smoke, under the pretense of a phone call.

"I now understand where you get your perceptive nature from." He attempted to joke, recalling to all the questions your mother had thrown at the both of you over the course of the evening.

"Yes, but unlike my mother, I know when to stop." You muttered, taking yet another sip of your wine. You had topped off long ago, and were still going strong. You needed all the alcohol you could get when it came to dealing with your mother.

"Well we're just left with dessert." He pointed out as the waiter brought their choice of desserts and left. You didn't even wait for your parents to get back, starting to dig into the chocolate tart you had ordered. Clark shot you an amused glance to which you held out a spoonful of chocolatey goodness for him to taste. He obliged, never once breaking eye contact with you. And the absolutely sinful way his mouth wrapped around the spoon had an involuntary shudder course through your entire body.

The feeling had become rather frequent since the start of the evening.

When Clark had taken your hand to help you out of the cab.

When his hand had rested against the bare skin of your exposed back.

When he had settled beside you and offered you a reassuring smile.

When you had rested a comforting hand on his thigh when your mother's words had become a little too harsh and you had defended him.

When your foot had slid to touch his under the table and had stayed there for the rest of the evening.

When you had allowed your pinkies to touch when both your hands had rested next to one another on the table.

When your eyes had met and he had recounted the time he had first met you. You had never considered the moment from his point of view, and your heart had nearly melted at what he had described.

How he had thought you were one of the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. How he adored the way you were able to call him out on his bullshit. How he could just be himself when he was around you.

It was a pity all of this was pretend.

Or was it?

As he pulled away from the spoon, your eyes drifted to his lips where a small chocolate smudge had remained. You had no idea what compelled you to reach out and gently wipe away the thick chocolate.

Only to bring the digit to your lips and licking it clean.

You definitely weren't imagining the way Clark's eyes darkened, his light blue orbs suddenly taking on a stormy sheen that had you shivering deliciously.

This had to be an award-winning performance right?

Whatever trance the two of you were in was broken by the arrival of your mother, loudly complaining about something in the powder room that wasn't to her liking. You turned your attention back to her, with Clark a little surprised that your mother had been so oblivious to the moment you and him had been having just a moment ago.

Suddenly Clark sat up straight. You frowned at him as he quickly stood and muttering something about a phone call walked out of the restaurant, just as your father returned.

He returned moments later. "I apologize everyone, but Mr. White needs me to cover a story and I need to get going right now." He said, picking up his coat from the back of his chair as he did. From the urgency in his voice you quickly deduced that it was superhero business.

"Well now!' Your mother began indignantly to which you quickly cut her off. "The life of a reporter. Always on the clock." You said with a small laugh as you stood as well.

"Enjoy the rest of the evening everyone. And don't worry about the bill." Clark added with a charming smile. He was doing that on purpose, you knew.

He turned his attention to you and you smiled at him. "Well go do your job then and be careful." You straightened the collar of his coat. He nodded. "Yes ma'am."

Before you could say anything else he quickly leaned down, cupping the side of your face, to press a chaste kiss to your lips. It was a simple brush of the lips, and yet you felt it to the very tips of your toes.

It was over just as soon as it had begun.

"I'll see you later." He muttered as he pulled back before he was off.

You stood there for a few more seconds before slowly sliding into your seat once more.

"I suppose your taste in men has improved significantly Y/n." You heard your mother say. You glanced up at her, still a little lost from having Clark kiss you.

"He's a good one, honey." Your father said gently, giving your hand a small pat.

Just then the big screen television that had been playing some program in the background was interrupted with some breaking news. News that showed Superman and the Justice League fighting yet another threat to Earth.

And while the rest of the patrons and staff clamored to get closer to the screen your eyes never left Clark's face as the camera showed him as Superman, as he rescued civilians.

"He is." You softly spoke, more so to yourself then your parents, as you smiled at the next thought.

Seems he won your little bet this time around.

#superman x reader #clark kent x reader #superman x y/n #clark kent x y/n #superman #clark kent x oc #dc #henry cavill

418 notes · View notes

ronniaugust · 10 months

Text

How To Write Good Dialogue (Part 1)

I'm gonna start this by saying I'm not trying to sound like a know-it-all. I am just tired of posts like these being absolutely fucking useless. I am aware this is basically me screaming into a void and I’m more than okay with that.

This guide is meant for intermediate screenwriters, but beginners are also absolutely welcome. :)

(about me)

-♠︎-♠︎-♠︎-♠︎-

I've noticed a rise in film students who want to make films that have no dialogue. Probably after your professor showed you Doodlebug, right? Fuck that.

I'll make another post about writing a short film, but all you need to know is: Don't waste the audience’s time. Most of these no-dialogue shorts have very little substance and take way too long to tell the shortest possible story. Not a good idea.

Useless Dialogue

Plain and simple, don't write useless dialogue. Useless dialogue is dialogue that just doesn't fucking matter. Dialogue matters by having ✨subtext.✨

What is subtext? Subtext is the meaning behind the action. That's it.

If I tell you that I love you and I got big doe eyes while I say it, it means I love you. If I tell you I love you through a clenched jaw without looking at you, I don't necessarily love you right now.

Simple, right? Great.

Now think about the subtext behind every line. Does your character mean what they're saying? Are they doing it to get what they want? What is going through their mind as they say it? As long as you know your character, you’ll have these answers ready to go. If you don’t, you’ll figure it out eventually. Just keep writing.

When you write your character walking into a Starbucks and saying, "One venti iced coffee," does that do something? Why do I need to see someone's boring Starbucks order? Do I need to know that your character's boring? Why are you writing a boring character? [Of course, in the rare situation where this is some revealing clue to the massive crime investigation, then it makes sense.]

Useless dialogue is any dialogue that has no meaning or purpose in your script. Delete and move on. You don't need to write entire conversations or scenes that bore us, just write what we care about.

I took a class once where my professor called a version of this "trimming the fat." Get us into your scene and out of your scene in as little time as it takes to have it achieve its full purpose in the script.

[P.S. You don’t “inject” subtext into your lines. Idk who started that vernacular in subtext teachings but I hate it.]

Show vs. Tell

I remember a glorious fight I got into with a Redditor last year about show vs. tell… TL;DR: Dialogue is “show” if you write it with intention and subtext. If someone says that dialogue is inherently “tell,” they’re wrong and can go fuck themselves.

Dialogue that is “tell” is expositional dialogue. But, hot take: Exposition isn't just in dialogue. It’s also those annoying clichés that make you roll your eyes in the theater (which we just call clichés and not exposition). I’m sure every professor I’ve had will disagree with this and then get me into a long conversation about it, but let’s ignore that for right now.

Have you ever seen a movie where a character rubs an old, worn-out photo of a young girl while looking depressed? That's exposition. That character has a dead daughter. No shit.

Clichés are incredibly annoying. We all know that. Assume that any cliché you see - in this context - is exposition and try your best not to write it. (Tropes are different and sometimes necessary, so I’m not talking about that.)

Point blank: When you have subtext in your lines, they are "show,” not “tell.”

Before moving on, I'll bring up that while technically the dead daughter photo is subtextual, it is as close to the character saying “My daughter is dead,” as you can get. Don't treat the audience like we're fucking stupid.

The First 15

If you don’t know what the Inciting Incident is, please look up “3 Act Structure” before reading this.

The first 15 pages of your script is the part that comes before the Inciting Incident. This is the part you want to get right because, although people probably won’t leave the theater, they will absolutely find something else on the streaming service they’re using. The people making said movie will also just toss your script in the trash before it’s even produced, so it's best to get it right.

Dialogue in the first 15 generally follows the same rules, but carries a heftier additional rule. All dialogue in the first 15 minutes must, must, must tell us something about your character.

Remember when I talked about that boring Starbucks order? Why is your character boring? Don’t write that. Don’t write nice characters. Or pleasant characters. Or friendly characters. No one cares.

You want empathy. This does not mean “relatable.” It means “empathetic.” There is a difference.

I personally relate to Vi in Arcane, but I empathize with Theo in Children of Men. Both are excellent, but one personally resonates a bit more with me. You cannot write a character that deeply resonates with every single person, it is impossible.

With each line of dialogue, you must be saying something about your character that generates the empathy. Instead of telling you how to do this, I’ll direct you to a movie that will do better than an explanation: Casablanca.

Watch how Rick interacts with the world. What kind of man is Rick? Watch what he does, what he says, and how he treats people and himself. Watch that empty glass on the table. Watch his contradictions. Everything. Those things matter and it’s what makes you want to watch Rick for the entire duration of Casablanca.

“Realism”

This is maybe more directorial, but make your characters human enough, not too human.

Too human is when you’ve tried your best to capture all those little life-like speech patterns. You know, the ones that no one fucking cares about.

If your character coughs, they’re sick. If they clear they’re throat, they’re uncomfortable. If a bruise isn’t going away, they’re going to die. Simple.

Every moment on screen matters. Everything the audience sees is meant to lead them to a conclusion. Not the conclusion, just a conclusion.

The realism you want is in the choices your character makes, not how many times they say “Uh,” in a sentence.

Conclusion

Dialogue matters and should not be treated lightly or without care. Once you have this all engrained in your mind, dialogue should become effortless.

If you want an excellent way to think about this, Robert McKee's Story has an excellent chapter that helped clarify this all for me. Here's an excerpt and the context.

Warning, spoilers for Chinatown.

"If I were Gittes at this moment, what would I do?"

Letting your imagination roam, the answer comes:

"Rehearse. I always rehearse in my head before taking on life's big confrontations."

Now work deeper into Gittes's emotions and psyche:

Hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel, thoughts racing: "She killed him, then used me. She lied to me, came on to me. Man, I fell for her. My guts are in a knot, but I'll be cool. I'll stroll to the door, step in and accuse her. She lies. I send for the cops. She plays innocent, a few tears. But I stay ice cold, show her Mulwray's glasses, then lay out how she did it, step by step, as if I was there. She con-fesses. I turn her over to Escobar; I'm off the hook."

EXT. BUNGALOW-SANTA MONICA

Gittes' car speeds into the driveway.

You continue working from inside Gittes' pov, thinking:

"I'll be cool, I'll be cool ..." Suddenly, with the sight of her house, an image of Evelyn flashes in your imagination. A rush of anger. A gap cracks open between your cool resolve and your fury.

The Buick SCREECHES to a halt. Gittes jumps out.

"To hell with her!"

Gittes SLAMS the car door and bolts up the steps.

Story by Robert McKee, pg 156

The context of this page is McKee's way of explaining how to write characters. I found it very helpful.

-♠︎-♠︎-♠︎-♠︎-

Thanks for reading! I probably forgot something, so I made this a “part 1.”

I hope this helps someone since I’m really tired of finding short films on YouTube that are all fucking silent. The few who have done it well have been copied to death, so please write some dialogue. I promise you it’s so much better if you do.

Asks are open! :)

367 notes · View notes

idlerin · 1 year

Text

LOVE SICK

a suna rintarou social media au

pairing. suna rintarou x f!reader

synopsis. cupid! calling cupid! as the resident matchmaker slash hopeless romantic of tokyo university, you are the person people look for to get love advice or to set them up with the love of their lives. when suna rintarou comes to you asking for the opposite, to help fend people away from trying to get with him, to the extremes of even asking to fake date you, you couldn't refuse! mostly because you did owe him since he was on the receiving end of a bunch of your clients’ unsuccessful love efforts (hey, you do warn them your matchmaking only has a 62.3% success rate).

tags. social media au, college au, fake dating, matchmaker, romance, crack, humor, fluff!

warnings. time stamps are irrelevant !!, foul language (aka cursing), drinking/alcohol

status. on-going (02/15/24 —)

— playlist.

teasers

[name]’s reading list | suna’s playlist | [name]’s in trouble !

profiles

ppl who think love sucks + [name] | inarizaki dogs

episodes !

chapter names may be subjected to change as the fic goes along.

( ❥ ) — has narrative parts

ACT I

01. romance 101 w [l/n] [name] !

02. aren’t you like, cupid

03. the bucket list

04. dead, shattered, devastated

05. it’s all cliché and full of obvious red flags

06. passion is a passing thing

07. keep your eyes on me

08. im a matchmaker not a mathematician

09. ur like an exothermic reaction

10. a witch! she's a witch!

ACT II

11. my dearest,

12. lol didn’t think u were mine

13. who cares if he’s a bit psychotic (he’s hot)

14. the grumpy x sunshine trope

15. shitty romance books

16. will they won’t they

17. season of hearts

18. touch some grass

19. and the world stills

20. being with you is ecstasy

ACT III

21. will they/won’t they

22. you hate me? so enemies to lovers?

tba !

taglist is OPEN !

to be added to the taglist you can just send in an ask or comment :)

notes. hi so this was like supposed to be posted on valentines but i got impatient and hey its still the month of love so whatever ehe will not start till i finish nonsense since i need to learn how to do stuff one at a time! but yeah super excited to make this bc i love fake dating and i love suna rintarou hohoho thank you guys sm for 400 followers i love you all <3

icons used as pfps are not mine but the content of this smau is. please do not repost this on any other platform. © idlerin 2023

1K notes · View notes

molinaskies · 8 months

Text

Sonic and the Mirror of Trauma: Scrapnik Island

Scrapnik Island is by far the most intriguing and impressive IDW Sonic miniseries so far. Daniel Barnes wrote an excellent story about recovering from trauma, struggling to escape your past, and facing the setbacks that come with both of those, and Nathalie Fourdraine and Jack Lawrence produced some beautiful art.

On its surface, the story has the potential to be a cheeky, cliché one-off akin to a spooky Halloween story (that started in December… hehe). But, when you look deeper at the plot and some of the tropes, and once you remember that it takes place between issue 56 (which I’ve crucially discussed at length) and issue 57, it suddenly becomes so much more important.

Mecha Sonic is a version of Sonic who has been forced to address the pain of his life and dabble with the consequences, and he represents the moment that Sonic has to face his own trauma—and that scares him.

Scrapnik Island sets off with the Scrapniks pursuing Sonic to help him, but Sonic, of course, has missed the memo. Mecha Sonic is hottest on Sonic’s trail, which stands out to me as not only is Sonic visibly afraid of Mecha (both from his sudden presence and from his memories of their last encounter), but he’s actively running away from his trauma, his past, his fear.

Even after Sonic’s been set straight on the Scrapniks’ deal, he’s still put off by Mecha Sonic’s silent demeanour and their history. So, Sonic treats him coldly, and this animosity triggers something deep within Mecha that he fights to starve off.

There is lots of visual storytelling to indicate that Sonic and Mecha Sonic are meant to be literary foils, but below is my favourite example. A flashback of a decommissioned Mecha Sonic fades into a present shot of Sonic “taking it easy,” but more so getting fed up with his situation.

Sonic is also particularly distrustful (and afraid) of Mecha Sonic, compared to the other Scrapniks. However, as time runs on, Sonic comes to an initial understanding of Mecha’s changed ways and wants to make peace. However, right after this, Mecha Knuckles attacks, Mecha Sonic defends and, in a way, sacrifices himself for Sonic, and things fall apart from here.

After Mecha Sonic is triggered during his battle with Mecca Knuckles (after a forceful encounter with Mecha Sonic’s past that sends him down a path of relapse), Mecha Sonic loses his ability to starve off Eggman’s primary programming. He turns on Sonic once again, but instead of serving Eggman, he strives to serve himself. While Mecha is falling victim to his traumatic past and coping mechanisms, the unfortunate thing about this is how it all reads to Sonic: another betrayal of his trust. It all calls back to Mr. Tinker, Metal Sonic, and Surge.

Mecha Sonic’s plan is to swap bodies with Sonic so that Mecha can use Sonic’s speed to escape the island, but the Scrapniks attack before the transfer can complete. This leaves Mecha and Sonic in an in-between state where they hear each other thoughts and feel each other’s feelings.

Even though Sonic states that the anger and sadness in his head is not his own, he’s still clearly shown to be feeling those feelings. They don’t originate from him, but their presence mingles with his own emotions to produce something darker and more irritated. Their presence also acts as a gateway of sorts, where the latent anger and sadness that Sonic can’t suppress makes it harder for him to put away his own feelings. Couple that with his physical pain from his sprained ankle (on the same leg he busted up a few issues prior), and soon, Sonic snaps for the first time in the entire IDW comic’s run.

I love whenever Sonic’s anger is allowed to shine because he is never enraged for petty reasons. Sonic has an attitude that often leads him to cranky comments, but Sonic is genuinely angry here because it hurts him to see someone speak so lowly of themselves, to have been hurt by the world so poorly. Mecha Sonic is also yet another person who has been created by Eggman’s terror specific to oppose Sonic. It’s another example of Surge’s “I will kill you or die trying” with the added complexity of Mecha’s attempt at redemption being corrupted by the trauma of Eggman’s influence. This puts pressure on Sonic because these impositions put Mecha, Surge, Kit, and others like them in direct opposition to Sonic for reasons entirely of no fault of his own—and that angers him. All Sonic strives to do with his life and his gift is help people, and to have so many people come out of the woodworks to say that the only thing he can do to help them is to kill himself is absolutely devastating to him. Not only because he believes in the direct opposite—that the only person who can give one purpose is oneself—but because it threatens to strip his own purpose away from him whenever these notions are unearthed.

Sonic isn’t angry at Mecha, personally. He’s angry at the system created to hurt them both.

The most important thing to remember is that, unless I fully missed something*, that strange mind-link thing between Sonic and Mecha Sonic is never undone. After Sonic cries Mecha Sonic’s tears, the story cuts to Tails officially deprogramming Mecha Sonic and Mecha Knuckles from Eggman’s directives, but it’s never explicitly stated that Mecha Sonic’s and Sonic’s mental link was reversed.

It can be reasonably assumed that it occurs off-screen (off-page? Outside of what is shown to the reader) because that would make general sense, but then again, so did the reprogramming, and that was explicitly mentioned. Further, it’s a general rule in writing for media that if you want something to be known about your story, it needs to be shown to the audience if not alluded to or directly referred to having happened. So, this is either an oversight, or it’s entirely intentional.

* The only way I can imagine this being accounted for is that the machine that linked Sonic and Mecha’s brains, the Egg Noggin, is (obviously) an Eggman device. Thus, whenever Tails removed Eggman’s programming from Mecha Sonic and Mecha Knuckles, perhaps it also restored Sonic’s brain to normal. This, however, feels like a bit of a stretch because we never see or hear of Sonic needing or receiving any treatment, but I am willing to consider it to be a viable reason. Either way, I think the point I’m about to make still stands as either a physical change or an emotional change in Sonic’s character.

This experience, this sharing of minds in such an intimate way where they can both so clearly hear each other’s hearts, taught them something. I read this as some sort of floodgates being opened, where while Mecha Sonic can more easily feel compassion and listen to the good in his core, Sonic now more clearly feels his anger and has a harder time suppressing his emotions. Whether there is lasting physical damage left in Sonic or he’s simply reeling from the depth of his emotions felt in this adventure, there’s been a clear impact.

Even if Sonic isn’t fully delving into things just yet, he’s taken a lesson away from all of this.

(From the IDW Endless Summer One-Shot, set between issue 64 and issue 65 and after the 900th adventure one-shot)

If nothing else, Sonic clearly understands trauma better now. Sonic is absolutely traumatized by his experiences with Eggman and other high-stakes adventures, but again, due to his tendency to push away his darker emotions, he hasn’t processed much of this. Sonic puts all his sadness and rage and fear and confusion into box after box after box before shoving everything onto a big, cluttered shelf, never to be seen again… until now. With such a clear look into the mind of someone actively reeling through trauma, a trauma so like his own, that shelf has collapsed, and now everything is spilling onto the floor before Sonic, quick as can be, can stop it.

Sonic is finally starting to understand the bigger picture, but I don’t think he’s fully on the path of self-awareness. I think there’s more boiling under the surface, more than even he realizes. And if Sonic keeps taking these micro-risks (instead of his usual Hail-Marys) that are fueled by his anger, like storming the Eggperial City too soon, then something will have to give.

Scrapnik Island is incredibly important to the IDW storyline because it showcases not only Sonic learning the depths of his pain and the pain of others but also yet another nail in Eggman’s coffin.

245 notes · View notes