#it's not even steamy and it's more corny that anything except the kissing but

[dirhwangdaseul-archived]

even with that short development choco milk shake and like a hundred hours of comedies have already quelled any desire to see a dogboy in romance like dude actor was committed and he's just massive like just massive, i am satisfied

[sol1056]

why do they hate having characters meet so much? do they think it's too awkward? do they think it's boring? did they just lose all their patience after season 1? because i swear if the pilot / rest of season 1 were written the way the writing is in the later seasons, i guarantee nobody would be watching this show, everyone would be too confused and frustrated to bother following it to season 2. unless i'm remembering season 1 incorrectly and it also had cracks but we all gave it a pass then.

“Stories may well be lies, but they are good lies that say true things.” – Neil Gaiman

Let me take my cynical pre-season hat off and answer this seriously, because it’s something I’ve seen when doing critiques for newer writers. 

It’s fear. 

Almost every writer at some point must deal with the voice that says, what will people think and mom’s gonna be so embarrassed and no one’ll ever invite me to another ice cream social. The censorship weasel dances in your brain, reminding you that these are your ideas, your words, from somewhere inside you. Unless you’ve mocked up a fake co-writer to blame all the gross (or steamy or violent) parts on, the weasel is terrified that people are gonna look at you and judge you for the world you created.

Next, add on genre insecurities. I know successful published writers who still get asked, “when will you write a real story?” as though a year of sweat and tears writing urban fantasy isn’t as ‘real’ as literary pap about a middle-aged professor lusting after a student. Or friends with amazing backlists in romance who’ve always written with a pseudonym, because romance is just fluff, what do you mean you do actual research, you can’t really take this stuff seriously. The vast majority of American animation (esp toy-pushing series meant for saturday morning) is another discredited genre. 

America is a cynical, corrupt, culture. You can see it all over our popular entertainment that treats sincerity as the kiss of death. So first you have to fight your way through the censorship weasels, and next grow the tough skin against the genre insults, and assuming you survive those, you’ve still got an uphill battle against a culture that will mock genuine feeling in anything it sees as less worthy: younger audiences, subaltern or marginalized voices, or pop-culture modes (comics, pulp fiction).   

That fear becomes justification. 

It’s just for kids, anyway. No one’s going to remember this in ten years. We’re not writing War and Peace here. Don’t put too much effort in, or people will think you take this seriously. Skip that scene, it’s too heavy. Just gloss over those parts, no one will care anyway. It’s just a story. It doesn’t matter. 

There is little more heartbreaking to me, as a writer, to read or watch someone’s story and catch the traces where they told themselves: it’s just a story, it doesn’t matter. And I often find myself infuriated on their behalf that they had no one – whether editor, or boss, or producer – to remind them that there is no such thing as ‘just a story’, that every story should matter, in its own way. 

There’s a quote from Tim Hedrick that gave me a pretty good idea that I’d be seeing those cracks, inevitably, in VLD:

I think that comedy does not undercut drama. I think it sets it up and makes things even more dramatic. When you’re doing a show like Voltron, on the face of it is just so ridiculous that you have five robot lions that create one giant robot and you’re fighting intergalactic forces. If you play that just straight it ends up being campy.

Except that comedy does undercut drama; as Carol Burnett put it, comedy is tragedy plus time. In other words, comedy distances you. It doesn’t heighten drama, it reduces it, like when it lets you laugh at what scared you. Sometimes it’s good to have a little humor to let out the air, but you have to use it wisely, and very sparingly.  

However, if you’re afraid of that drama, the justification in the quote above would sound awfully sweet. Plus it has the nice byproduct of winking at the audience: see, see, we’re not really taking this seriously. We know it’s ridiculous, don’t worry, we know this’ll never win a Nobel Prize in Literature. We know it’s cheesy, campy, trite, corny. 

Here’s the thing, though: so what? Some of the most amazing stories are, on their face, somewhat ridiculous and yet also incredibly moving. 

Two kids from an underground city find a drill that lets them control and combine robots to defend themselves against sentient beasts in huge mecha. A woman is the great-great-granddaughter of a famous gunslinger and must undo a curse on the family line. Two brothers try to get back their bodies in a world where transmutation is real and so are homunculus and human-animal chimeras. A kid is bitten by a radioactive spider and develops superpowers. Five pilots fly massive machines to attack earth and get caught in a multi-factional war they never expected to live long enough to see. A cheerleader is chosen as next in a long line of vampire slayers.  

Five lions that combine into one giant mecha are no more ridiculous than a single man shooting a single arrow through a dragon’s chest and taking it down. Or a kid groomed through violence and abuse into becoming a skilled killing-machine gamer. Hell, isn’t it just as ridiculous to have a character obsessed with some crazed whale? Or a girl who meets the mountain spirit near her new rural home? Or four siblings who go through a wardrobe and end up in fairytale land?

If you play it straight – as all of the above were – it doesn’t end up being campy. It ends up being earnest. It will be a story that refuses to bend a knee to the censorship weasels or the genre insults. But earnest is a step away from sincere, and that’s just shy of taking storytelling seriously, and hello, weasels. 

Fear tells the writer: don’t believe in the story’s world, or the characters, or the story itself. Safer to keep it at a distance, make it something to laugh at, rather than honest enough to be wept over. And when you listen to that fear, you skip those scenes that really matter, because it’s just a story, anyway. 

When the writer is so afraid of telling an honest story that they refuse to see its truths – let alone believe in such truths and accept they matter – what is there to entice a reader to believe, in the writers’ stead?

[ennergetics]

FILLED REQUEST: down with love, a fuckboi! seongwu au

(image credit)

pairing: ong seongwu x reader genre: fluff, angst wordcount: 3023 summary: Ong Seongwu is the campus’s resident type-A fuckboy. when you, an unknown writer, attempt to steal his spotlight, he tries to get revenge by making you fall in love with him. warnings: provocative situations, but nothing too steamy (inspired by the movie of the same name! same verse as the sungwoon prince au, but with a different reader + earlier time period. cross-posted on ao3.)

one | two

Each term, Ong Seongwu beats three of his own personal records: the number of features editors who’ve quit at the campus publication he heads; the amount of attention its social media has garnered under his editorship; and the size of his contacts list, the names of interviewees mingling with those of all the people he’s slept with.

Everybody on campus knows Ong Seongwu, and he wants to keep it that way. A consummate professional, he entered university knowing exactly what he wanted and how he was going to get there. After all, one doesn’t become an excellent reporter and social media influencer overnight; Seongwu built his brand through hard work, god-given good looks, and a knack for making people laugh. He flirts with all of them and fucks them without batting an eyelash, and none of them can say they didn’t know what they signed up for.

Yes, it’s easy to fall for Seongwu, with a story like his: a talented boy on scholarship with big dreams, eager to find someone to share his life with. The best lies are half-truths, after all. Seongwu does work hard, but he doesn’t think there’s a place in his life for love. Still, that doesn’t mean he can’t have fun, and he’s broken the many hearts of people who’ve wanted more.

PRODUCE, the publication he helped found as a freshman, is his current project and only love. He can’t help it if all the features editors up to this point have fallen hopelessly in love with him, tried to change him, and quit their jobs after failing. They were then banned from ever returning to PD101, the fond nickname for the publication’s office on campus. It’s been Seongwu’s home for his entire stay at college, and no simple flings would be able to drive him out of there.

Seongwu is at his usual spot in PD101, alternating between scrolling through PRODUCE’s social media accounts and editing the article queued for publishing within the week, when someone clears their throat.

“Boss, I’ve got an interesting piece you might want to look at.” The current features editor is a deceptively quiet boy with a knack for finding the best stories. Park Woojin quite easily turned down Seongwu’s early attempts at banter, and Seongwu’s glad to find an editor who might actually last till the end of the year and beyond. Woojin is clever enough that Seongwu might bring him onto the team when he expands PRODUCE beyond the campus, but that’s not important right now. If Woojin says a story’s got promise, Seongwu’s willing to bet on it.

He takes the tablet from Woojin and skims the article someone sent in to their submissions email. The sender, one L/N Y/N, doesn’t even have a picture up on their profile, which is a red flag for Seongwu. He gives it a cursory read-through, his expression souring as he gets further. It’s well-written, sure, but the article hinges on a tip for those lost in love: take control of their romantic lives ‘by not fucking scrubs more than once.’

He vaguely remembers what the word means: it’s a gender-neutral word for “fuckboy” that was popular in the ‘90s. Seongwu snorts. “Of course we’re not publishing this. It’s barely worth the minute I gave it my attention.” He doesn’t really think that, but PRODUCE is his magazine and he’s not going to publish anything so contrary to his own lifestyle. There’s something about this piece that feels like a personal attack, though Seongwu can’t quite place his finger on it. Before texting his next hook-up for the week, he gives Woojin a look; Woojin shrugs; and that’s the end of that.

Two days later, everyone on campus is talking about an explosive blog post promoted through the school’s online billboard system, titled “DOWN WITH LOVE.” Seongwu checks out the link and finds a more polished version of what had been sent in, complete with properly sourced memes and gifs. That annoys Seongwu enough, but now none of his regular fuck buddies will pick up his calls or reply to his texts—that is, except for the three who sent him a link to the blog post.

Seongwu looks you up and discovers you’re quite attractive, your photos tastefully shot and social media clean. He’s scrolling through your twitter when he sees a question about whom you think ‘the worst scrubs on campus’ are.  There’s only one name there: his. “Never met him, but everybody tells me he’s an ass,” your answer says.

That’s the moment he decides he’s going to get his revenge. Ong Seongwu doesn’t lose, and it should be easy enough to make you fall in love with a self-proclaimed fuckboy like himself. You’ve never met him—in fact, you refuse to meet with him or any of the PRODUCE staffers—and his carefully curated social media means he can control his image perfectly. Seongwu puts on glasses, parts his hair in the middle, and borrows from his friend Jisung’s wardrobe, making himself practically unrecognizable, then sets himself up as a new student in your project management class.

Adopting a Busan accent that’s a passable approximation of Woojin’s way of speaking, Seongwu strikes up conversation with you. “Hey,” he says softly, “have you got a copy of the syllabus? I just shifted into this class.”

“I do,” you say, your tone oddly hopeful. “You don’t know who I am?” You look surprised that he’s talking to you. He imagines you must not be popular; infamous, yes, but you probably didn’t make many friends publishing and promoting your post like that. Your campus is filled with easily identified scrubs who probably didn’t take too kindly to having their beds suddenly empty.

Seongwu cocks his head in a way he knows makes hearts flutter, blinking at you. “No, should I?”

“No, no, not at all!” you say, a grin lighting up your face. “Here, I’ve got it on my phone.” You hand him your phone, and Seongwu makes sure your fingers touch his. He exaggerates his reaction, looking down with a sheepish smile, but he feels his cheeks turn warm. Seongwu shakes his head. It’s been a while, he tells himself, and that’s all it is.

The class starts and he has no chance to return your phone. You’re engrossed in the professor’s explanation—something about the various management frameworks, and Seongwu realizes he’s in over his head here as a communications major—but you glance at him occasionally, worrying your lower lip with your teeth.

Within ten minutes, the class is over, the first day a simple explanation of the syllabus. Seongwu doesn’t need to graduate with Latin honours, but he wants to. This class is beginning to look like an obstacle, and he curses how foolhardy he was with this plot. It spoke volumes about how much you’d shaken up his routine. Still, there was a way for him to kill two birds with one stone.

“Um, thank you for lending me your phone,” he says, scratching at the back of his head. “It’d be great if we could be study buddies?” Seongwu says, letting his hair fall over his forehead just so. “I’m Hong Sungwoon, but my friends call me Ong. They say I’m too much of an old man,” he says, chuckling. This way, you’ll use a name he’ll recognize, but won’t know it’s him.

You’re smiling up at him, then he sees a spark in your eyes. Bullseye. “Maybe I should get your number, Ong-sshi,” you say. “It wouldn’t be hard to study with a cute face like yours beside me.”

Seongwu covers his mouth with his hand. “Gosh,” he says, “I’ve never had anyone be this forward with me before, especially not someone as attractive as you.” Your eyes soften, and Seongwu admits it’s a look that makes him feel warm inside. He almost feels bad about how he’s going to break your heart.

“Then we’ll both be lucky,” you say, handing him your phone. Your fingers linger at his arm, tracing a light pattern on his bicep as Seongwu inputs his number. He ignores the shiver up his spine at your lazy smile, keeping the act up and trembling slightly when he hands your phone back.

Your first study session is in the following week, right before a quantitative quiz Seongwu has no idea how to answer. Hong Sungwoon is a man afraid of crowds, so the two of you study at the roof of the old biology building, a spot you’ve apparently been keeping to yourself since you got to university. It’s conveniently near PD101, so everything works out for Seongwu.

He’s sitting with his side flushed against yours, watching you push up your glasses every few moments while explaining the necessary diagrams to him. When he feels you shiver at the chill, he places an arm around you as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You shouldn’t be cold,” he says, wide-eyed.

You grin up at him, snuggling closer and leaning your head on his shoulder. The hand with the papers you’re scribbling on falls onto his upper thigh, and when you show how the items flow from one department to another, he feels the pressure of your finger against his skin.

The rest of the session continues like this, with Seongwu finding excuses for innocent touches here and there, with you escalating each one. Your breathing becomes shallow, a cute flush beginning to show on your skin. Seongwu resists the urge to pull you into a kiss, internally reminding himself of the part he has to play. It’s when you’re done explaining the whole lesson, practically sitting in his lap, when you turn to him and place your hand on his chest.

You draw your face close to his and whisper against his mouth. “Ong,” you say, looking into his eyes, “how would you feel about lessons of a different kind?” And Seongwu springs away as if burned, sputtering while trying to hide his laugh at how corny your line had been.

“I couldn’t possibly do that, Y/N-sshi!” he says. “I mean, I’ve never really done that kind of thing before, and I want to save myself for someone special, you know?” But before you can say anything else, he adds, “I would certainly be honoured to take you out on a date, though. You seem swell, and I’d love to get to know you better.”

Seongwu sees you considering it, and for a moment he’s worried you won’t take the bait. “I mean,” he says, pressing his hand into the small of your back, as if he doesn’t feel you shuddering under his touch, “it’s hard for me to control myself when you’re so pretty, but you could be...”His fingers curl up, scratching lightly against your shirt in a way he knows you’ll feel. “…you could be my first.”

He’s got you there, and right after a grueling, fifty-point quiz, he takes you out to a small hole-in-the-wall restaurant. The auntie running the kitchen waves at him when he ushers you in, flashing both of you a big smile. “I’m not the most well-off,” he says, milking your sympathy. As you look around with wide eyes, though, he feels his throat itch with apprehension. In a way, this is an honest side of himself, one no one, especially not his hook-ups, ever get to see.

“I love it,” you say solemnly. He orders for the both of you, and you dig into the home-cooked meals with gusto. Seongwu makes sure to feed you once or twice, ignoring how your tongue slips out to lick the rich sauces off your lips. The whole time, you both talk about how you ended up at the university, Seongwu giving you a sanitized version of his history, omitting how cutthroat he’d been throughout the years while building his virtual empire. He finds out that you’re just as driven as he is, with a mind skilled at data visualization and a minor in publication management.

You insist on splitting the bill, but the auntie surprises you both by telling you the meal is free. “This young man is a regular customer, and I’m happy to see him finally out on a date,” she says, and Seongwu thanks the stars for having her back up the alibi he’s given.

He walks you home, and at your doorstep, you give him a kiss that tastes like auntie’s best tteokbokki, and Seongwu deepens the kiss for a moment before remembering the long-term plan. You’re breathing hard when he pulls away, your pupils dilated and your grip on his neck tight. “Come in,” you say breathily, your hand moving to stroke at his jaw.

“I-I’m not sure that’s a great idea,” Seongwu says, though every bone in his body—as well as all the blood that rushed south at the feel of your hips against his—disagrees. “I’ll see you in class next week.” He kisses you on the cheek before extracting himself from your grasp.

Numerous dates and study sessions go by, with your hands wandering his body more and more desperately and his famous self-control slowly but surely being eroded by your touch. One night he gives in and you make out on your couch, his grip around your waist tight as you grind against each other. He waits till you come and leaves with a terrible case of blue balls, insisting on being a gentleman all the while. Never mind how dirty his groans are when he jacks off later in the shower, your name on his lips. As he leans his head against the shower stall, his heavy pants fogging up the glass, Seongwu thinks something has to be done.

You’re at one of the smaller study halls, one rarely frequented by students, when Seongwu decides it’s time to enact the final phase of his plan. He ignores the uneasy feeling at the back of his mind, willing himself not to feel anything when you thread your fingers between his. For once, the two of you aren’t caught up studying, and he pulls you to a rarely visited section of the hall, where you crowd him against the bookshelf and pull his lips to your own.

Your lips are puffy and his hair’s a mess when he pulls away, stilling the gentle grind of your hips with one steady hand. “I’m not sure,” he says, putting all the confusion and turmoil he’s feeling into his next words. “I think—I think you’re the one for me, but I don’t know how you feel.”

Seongwu’s set up a hidden camera on the top shelf, ready to record your confession for posting at prime-time. Everything’s in place for him to succeed, but he can’t deny the apprehension he feels. He wants you to confess because it means he wins, that you’re a hypocrite who doesn’t walk your talk. But part of him wants you to confess because he wants to know how you’ve felt about these last three months you’ve spent together.

You sigh once. Seongwu holds his breath. “I’m in love with you. I wrote an article decrying love and its associated pains, but it all feels like a lifetime ago. You’ve made me so happy these past three months. It was impossible for me not to fall for you.” And Seongwu smiles, having won both your heart and the competition you hadn’t even known about.

“That is, if I hadn’t fallen for you already, Ong Seongwu.”

You stand on your tiptoes and reach for the camera, switching it off. Seongwu’s jaw hangs open, and while he’s staring at you wordlessly, you begin to speak. “A year ago, an impressionable junior applied for the features editor opening at PRODUCE magazine. I needed some experience for minor credits, and yours was one of the most-talked-about and better-run among the accessible publications. I was starstruck by you then, so smooth and suave and skilled. You knew precisely what you wanted and how to get it.

“I told myself that I wouldn’t sleep with you, even as your flirting got more intense. It’s easy enough to fall in lust with you, Seongwu, but the sides you showed during the magazine’s times of trouble, the rare moments you bared your heart—in the end, I fell hard. You took me to bed during the Christmas party and never talked to me again.”

Seongwu’s brows furrow. “So you wanted revenge by getting me to date you?”

“No, you silly boy,” you say, reaching out to touch Seongwu’s face. “I just wanted you to like me. I knew it’d be irresistible to you, the idea of making someone crack, to the point that you’d let down your cool exterior and be the you no one else gets to see.”

He’s floored. There it is, that feeling again, of being bested by someone else—the same someone, no less—but it’s overshadowed by the realization that everything you’re saying is true. Maybe he hasn’t fallen in love with you just yet, but he’s certainly getting there. Ironically enough, words aren’t always easy for him, and he hasn’t verbalized the meaning behind his enthusiasm as he checks for your messages in the morning; the energy he feels after laughing in class with you; the tenderness of your interlinked arms as he walks you home.

“I do like you,” he says, “more than I knew. More than I should. But we can be happy now, can’t we? I’ll release this cover story, we’ll go on dates for real, I’ll ask you to go steady, and we’ll live a good life, or whatever it is always comes at the end of romantic comedies.”

You look troubled for the first time, and Seongwu feels the seed of worry grow. “I can’t. So many people here on campus are better off because of me. No more awful ghosting, no more one-night stands that they expected more from, and no more silly attachments.” You shrug before pulling him close. “I’ll miss you.”

Taking the camera with you, you smile sadly, giving Seongwu one last chaste kiss. “I guess I’m a down-with-love kid, after all.”

[purrincess-chat]

A Lesson in Love

Soooo, as many of you probably saw yesterday, I added onto a post for some Alyanette, tropes so I decided to make some more Alyanette cause it’s been a while, and I’m working on my Alyabug fic, but I decided to make this to hopefully cheer up @alya-bug and give her some more content to enjoy. I’m also tagging @lahiffed because I used their idea for Alya to teach Marinette how to kiss, so I hope you guys enjoy this! <3 I’m surprised by how long it turned out honestly...It gets a little steamy, but still a T rating, so not too steamy. ;)

FF | AO3

There were many rituals that came with friendships among teenage girls, and slumber parties were a staple. Staying up late, gossiping about cute boys and mean girls while watching corny chick-flicks as their nails dried… Marinette and Alya were no exception to such traditions and held such events as often as their parents allowed. The two girls had been practically inseparable since they met, and something inside of them just clicked when they were together. Alya was Marinette’s first really close friend, and something about Alya made her feel comfortable and secure, like she could tell her anything without fear of ridicule or judgment. With Alya she was safe, and Marinette cherished their friendship more than anything.

She’d never really been physically affectionate with anyone besides her parents, but as she laid across Alya’s lap, scrolling through her phone, she felt completely at peace. After sometime, Alya began to braid her hair, and they moved into the gossip portion of the evening.

“Can you believe how angry Chloe got when Mme. Bustier announced that you’re gonna play Cinderella in the school play? I thought she was going to bust her designer cardigan and turn into a she-hulk,” Alya mused, twining her fingers expertly through Marinette’s fine hair.

“As if she doesn’t hate me enough already,” She said with a sigh.

“Not to mention Adrien is playing Prince Charming,” Alya cast her a sly smirk as Marinette’s cheeks darkened. “Have you been practicing your lines?”

“It’s not the lines I’m worried about,” Marinette admitted glumly sitting up. “There’s a kiss scene at the end.”

“I know! By the end of this production, you’ll have kissed that boy so many times it’ll be just as effortless as walking,” Alya said, patting her shoulder.

“But I’m bad at walking,” Marinette giggled pointedly, and Alya conceded her point. “I guess I’m just nervous because I’ve never really kissed someone before.”

“What? Marinette Dupain-Cheng has never been kissed?” Alya gasped in astonishment, and Marinette thought back to the akuma battle when she kissed Chat Noir, though she couldn’t exactly tell Alya that.

“Nope,” She said casually, pressing her lips into a firm line.

“Like half the class has had a crush on you this year, and you’re telling me you’ve never been kissed?” Alya stared at her in disbelief.

“It just hasn’t happened yet!” Marinette buried her face in her knees in embarrassment. “And I’m worried that my inexperience is going to mess me up somehow. What if when I lean in, I bump his mouth and break one of his flawless teeth then he’ll never wanna kiss me again, and he’ll drop out of the play, move to a different school, and it’ll be all my fault!”

“Girl, you need to chill out. None of that is going to happen because I’m going to help you,” Alya stated, shifting to face her more.

“W-What do you mean help me?” Marinette’s eyes widened nervously.

“You can practice on me, and then I’ll give you advice,” Alya said, lifting her chin.

“Practice, as in-?”

“I want you to kiss me, Marinette,” Alya chuckled. “If you’re comfortable with it, that is.”

“W-Well, it is just for practice, so if you think it’ll help,” Marinette bit her lip as they shifted into more comfortable positions.

“Totally. Don’t be nervous, girl. It’s only me, and by the time I’m done with you, Adrien won’t know what hit him,” She winked, and Marinette felt her heart jolt and sputter. Why was she so clammy all of a sudden? “Okay, so show me how you lean in.”

Marinette gripped her pajama pants a little as she leaned her torso forward, Alya mirroring her movements calmly. Her friend raised a hand to lift her chin, tilting her head to the side a little as their lips brushed against each other softly. The space between them closed, and Marinette closed her eyes, lips moving tentatively at first, though something about it felt natural which helped ease her nerves considerably. Alya didn’t push, but let her dictate the pace, simply responding in time with whatever move Marinette made. Gaining a little more confidence, Marinette tilted her head a little further to deepen the kiss, feeling Alya’s lips part against her own as she slid her hands up her friend’s arms. Tiny goosebumps dotted her flesh as they gravitated closer and closer together until they locked themselves in a tight, passionate embrace.

Alya’s tongue teased her bottom lip, and Marinette let out a soft moan that encouraged her to press deeper. She felt her twirling strands of Marinette’s dark hair around her fingers, humming in delight when their tongues united in a playful dance. Quiet moans and contented sighs passed between them as their mouths moved in sync, neither one quite ready to break the kiss. It was a moment of sheer bliss that left Marinette’s head spinning, though it was far from over.

Slowly, she wrapped her arms around Alya’s neck and leaned back against her pillows, pulling her down to rest comfortably against her. Their lips never parted for long, always returning moments after they separated, tongues greeting each other like old lovers that had been starving for one another for years. Alya’s breath hitched a little as Marinette ran her fingers through her hair, down her back, and pulled her in tighter as if any distance between them was too far. The sweetness of her breath had Marinette reeling, barely able to comprehend how far this had escalated, and only knowing that she didn’t want it to stop, and to her delight, Alya seemed to have no intentions of letting up anytime soon either.

Their soft moans melted into each other as Alya cradled her head in her arms, gently stroking behind her ear. By now they’d each grown familiar with every nook and cranny of the other’s mouth, and Marinette’s thoughts were far from Adrien. Of course she’d always thought Alya was amazing and smart and beautiful from the very first day they’d met. The way she’d stood up to Chloe had captivated Marinette, enchanting her with an irreversible spell that drew her in, and Marinette had no intentions of fighting it. She’d never entertained those small indulgent voices in the back of her mind, but with Alya’s tongue waltzing with her own, those voices began to scream louder, her chest bursting with adoration and passion and most of all love. How deeply she loved her best friend, though she’d always kept it hidden for fear of scaring her away, but she should have known better. Alya had always supported and stood up for her, so she should have known that her feelings would be reciprocated.

With one last moan, Alya cupped her face and pulled her in hard, sucking her lower lip hungrily before releasing them with a gasp. Heated breath swirled between them as their eyes opened slowly, and they searched each other’s expressions in shock. Neither one pulled away, but they remained locked in an embrace, Alya nestled on top of Marinette gently as not to squish her. Marinette’s gaze softened, and Alya let out a breathy laugh, resting her forehead against Marinette’s softly.

“I don’t think you have to worry about Adrien.”

[bachelorbro-blog1]

Season 21 -- Week 1

So, I’m just going to dive right in and start on this journey. Strap in?

I know Nick is an incredibly controversial choice because he’s already been on the show 3 times before this and he hasn't found love, so why should we even give him a chance? Well, everyone deserves love, I guess...but beyond that, Nick is a genuinely interesting person. Even the Chad Bear thinks so! I’m glad that he didn't end up with anyone on Bachelor in Paradise because I think we all knew he wasn't going to be happy with anyone he found there.

So, we see Nick having a really scripted conversation with some of the past Bachelors and they give him advice about what the process is going to be like, which is kind of weird seeing as he’s been on the other side of it twice and has kind of been on their side of it already since everyone is in charge on Bachelor in Paradise (sort of?).

We see all of Nick’s past failed relationships and we learn more about him and his life. We’re reintroduced to his little sister Bella who gives him some really solid advice. Like, make eye contact and stop mumbling. You aren't a 14 year old boy on his first date, dude.

Anyway, onto the girls and my first impressions of them (because who cares what Nick thinks about them, right?)

The first girl out of the limo is Danielle L. She doesn't have a gimmick, which is interesting because I feel like it’s almost a requirement for people to have some sort of shtick now? Anyway, she’s cool. We’ll see what happens.

Next is Elizabeth. She sounds like a former cheerleader and basically says the exact same thing that Danielle L said to him so...whatever. Again, we’ll see.

Out comes Rachel. I immediately love her because she has a super bright smile and she walks really confidently. She makes a corny joke, but she doesn't make any mention of being nervous like the two girls before her did so at least we know that she's on her own team.

Next is Christen, who looks exactly like one of my friends from college (I had to rewind to make sure it wasn't her). She’s a wedding videographer and calls him a celebrity, so she’s got a lot going on already. I’m shadily hoping she has a meltdown somewhere in the middle of the show because I feel like if anyone’s going to smash a wine glass on a table and storm out of a room crying, it’s going to be her (and I really want to see that).

Taylor shows up next. She laughs the second she sees him and then tells him that all of her friends hate him! I’m obsessed with her. I hope she gets to the hometown visit stage at least because I want to see him get the cold shoulder from all of her friends at brunch.

Then we meet Kristina, a dental hygienist with an unplaceable accent from Kentucky. I have no strong opinions about her. I just want to know where the accent came from. Please.

Next is Angela, a model who tells him to “scoop” her up later and that’s all of the information we get about her. They keep cutting away to Danielle L. talking about Nick which makes me think that Angela is going home real fast. Sorry, girl!

Out comes Lauren, who immediately decides that their couple name is “Disgusting Slut.” I don't care about her, but I appreciate the joke.

Food truck owner Michelle (we don't get to find out what kind of food truck it is?) comes out of the limo next and says that she’s “heard” that his “past relationships have been lemons.” Girl, we all have. They were broadcast on national television. I would be more surprised if you knew nothing about him. Next!

Dominique, the trillionth girl to show up in a red dress, is upper case E X C I T E D to be there (and to be sent home early on in the competition because she doesn't even get to say her name).

Ida Marie, a girl with two first names, shows up in a dress that has two pieces because clearly she likes everything to be in pairs. I would send her home immediately just because I wouldn't want to have to call her by her full first name every time I was introducing her to someone. That's a mouthful. Plus she asked him to do a trust fall with her. Imagine if he had dropped her. IMAGINE. I do like her dress though. Props to Ida Marie.

Olivia, who wants an eskimo kiss, enters in a huge fur coat (I really hope it’s fake). Then she hands him the coat?

In runs Sarah (literally). She runs. Because he was a runner up. So she wanted to be a runner up too. Not a great start, my friend. She forgets to introduce herself. Things aren't looking good for Sarah.

Jasmine G. (meaning there’s going to be another Jasmine?) brings Nick a tray of rings. Jasmine is IN IT TO WIN IT. Damn. Tell him what you want, girl!

Hailey is wearing a red dress! Surprise! Everyone is wearing a red dress! Who would have thought? She mentions that she’s not wearing underwear. That’s a power move.

Next up is Astrid, who speaks German and likes to show off. Nick doesn't speak German so it’s fun to watch him smile uncomfortably at her while she tells him that her boobs are real. She isn't wearing a red dress, which is a relief.

Here comes Liz, who already had sex with Nick. Something tells me she’s going to tell everyone. Nick gives her a weird look when she leaves. Of course he remembers you, Liz. How could he not? It hasn't even been a year since you first met. Do you really think he's that dumb?

Corinne is next. I’m scared of Corinne. Really scared. She gives him a hug token, but I wouldn't be surprised if she takes a bite out of his cheek during that hug.

Vanessa speaks French. Astrid already spoke a different language so you’re going to have to find something else to do, Vanessa. I did love her back story though. Am I Team Vanessa already?

Wait no, I lied. Danielle M. shows up. I love Danielle M. She’s technically wearing a red dress, but it’s a different shade of red than everyone else which makes her special. Plus she gives him a homemade gift. I can already see them making breakfast together during the hometown visit. Team Danielle M.

Raven yells about pigs. Fine.

Next comes Jaimi. This is the first time I’ve ever seen that name spelled with an I at the end of it, so does that make her interesting? I don't know. She tells him that she has balls, which means she has a septum piercing and wants to make herself sound more interesting. Corinne isn't into it.

Briana asks Nick if she can listen to his heart because she's a nurse, but then she asks him to take his shirt off so we’ve gone from decently cute to decently steamy in the span of three seconds. Good work, Briana.

Susannah, whose name doesn't show up immediately, gives Nick a beard massage, which is something I didn't know could happen. Then she tells him to expect more. What a weird promise.

Josephine is kind of a whack job. I can tell right away. But she's a whack job in a good way. She makes him eat an uncooked hot dog, but because she’s a nurse she can save him if he chokes on it. Well played, Josephine.

The ladies finally realize that everyone is wearing red. Really? Just now?

Ok, onto Brittany, who gives Nick a prostate exam...? Bold move.

Here’s the other Jasmine we’ve all been waiting for: Jasmine B. She's wearing a red dress. Other Jasmine (Jasmine G.) wore green because clearly she's the alpha Jasmine.

Whitney literally doesn't get to say anything. This does not bode well for her.

So...a camel shows up. Lacey is riding the camel if that wasn't clear. The camel is not a contestant (even though I would watch the shit out of that show). She makes some joke about humping and the other women are flabbergasted that she could be so forward. Ok.

SHARK ATTACK! Alexis is my favorite. I cannot believe she showed up in a shark costume and I really can't believe that she thinks it’s a dolphin costume (except I can actually believe both of those things because this is reality television and those kinds of things happen all the time).

Ok, so now we’ve met all of the girls. I have my picks and we'll see if they match up with Nick’s.

All of the ladies are waiting for Nick to come in and talk to them. Some are talking about how cute Nick is, others are talking about how ready they are to get married. Most are talking about Alexis’ shark costume.

Nick talks to Rachel first. She's smart and interesting and practices law. I knew I loved her. Go Rachel, go!

Christen dances with Nick, Raven asks for personal information, and then Chris shows up with the first impression rose, which is the most important rose in the whole world. Girls will rip each other’s hair out to receive this rose. Corinne will literally eat Alexis to get this rose. Corinne would probably eat someone for looking at her funny. 

Corinne straight up gives Nick a bag full of tokens. One of those tokens probably says, “Choose me or I’ll snap your neck.” 

Vanessa was submitted by a friend. So was Nick. She wants Nick to kiss her, but we all know Corinne would rather rip his lips right off of his face than see anyone else kiss him. Surprise, Corinne is back! She’s going to kiss him! Are we surprised? We have our female Chad, ladies and gentlemen.

Jasmine G. does not like Corinne. No one likes Corinne. 

Kristina shows up again for some reason, but we still don't get any information on her accent. What’s up with that? We just want to know what’s happening.

Jasmine G. is the first girl to cry. I didn't expect that at all. 

We’re still on the subject of Alexis’ costume. Is she a shark or a dolphin? Doesn't matter. She’s amazing. Some drunk girl calls her her “spirit animal.” Ok. Corinne tries to say Alexis is probably wearing it to hide her bad body. Nice try, girl. We all know she'd win in a fight against you. 

Nick finally talks to Alexis. He is not convinced that she’s a dolphin. Either way, I love her. She went in the pool in a shark costume. He tells her that if she takes the costume off she's going home, which means that she’s staying. That’s good news.

Liz talks about Jade and Tanner’s wedding again. She thinks she’s a woman of mystery. He straight up calls her on her bullshit and she gets really uncomfortable and it’s my favorite thing that’s happened all night. The only thing that could top this moment would be the Jasmines battling to see who would reign supreme and who would be going home without a rose. 

Corinne is convinced she’s going to get the first impression rose. It’s going to Danielle M. or Rachel because they actually had good conversations with him and they didn't shove their tongues down his throat. Nice try, Corinne. Maybe eat a raw sweet potato with your bare hands or something next time. 

Rachel gets the rose. No one is surprised. Good for her. Three cheers for Rachel!

It’s finally time for Nick to send some of these red dresses packing. I’m fairly sure I know who’s going home, but I’ll give them all the benefit of the doubt because maybe they had really good conversations off camera or something.

Kristina is crying (with an accent). Everyone is talking about making decisions in such a short time. It’s all about first impressions, ladies. This show has been on for 21 seasons now. How are you not aware of that?

Time for roses!

The first rose goes to Vanessa. No surprise there. She’s going to make it to the end.

Danielle L. gets the next rose. I still have no strong opinions about her. 

Christen gets the next rose, which is surprising. I knew she’d get one, but not this early on.

The fourth rose goes to Astrid, while Corinne freaks out.

Then Corinne gets a rose because this season needs a villain.

Kristina continues to cry while Elizabeth W., Jasmine G., and Raven get roses.

Then Kristina gets a rose and she stops crying.

Danielle M. finally gets a rose (even though she should have been the first person to get a rose).

Sarah gets a rose. I don't remember who Sarah is.

Josephine gets a rose because we need a fun gal this season, too.

Lacey the camel girl gets a rose while Hailey bad mouths Alexis. 

Taylor gets a rose because we need someone to counsel Corinne when she goes off the deep end and starts throwing furniture at the other contestants. 

Alexis gets a rose! Alexis gets a rose! She is still sure that she’s a dolphin.

Hailey, who isn't wearing panties, gets a rose. She’s relieved that she doesn't have to put her panties back on and hug the shark goodbye.

Whitney gets a rose. We still know nothing about Whitney. 

Dominique gets a rose while Liz worries that sex at Jade and Tanner’s wedding won't be enough to save her.

Jaimi gets a rose. Nick wants to see more of her balls.

Brittany gets a rose. Was she the one who gave him a prostate exam?

The final rose goes to Liz because this is reality television.

This means that the girls who didn't get roses are Briana, Susannah, Olivia, Jasmine B., Ida Marie, Angela, Michelle, and Lauren. They all put on brave faces as they leave the mansion, but some cry once they get outside. Part of me wants to hug them and tell them it’s all going to be ok, while another part of me wants to remind them that they signed up to be on a reality television show and knew that this was a very real possibility.

Liz reminds the audience that she’s already had sex with Nick. Where? At Jade and Tanner’s wedding! If I had a dollar for every time she mentioned that I would be able to buy the mansion and make Luke the Bachelor (because he's the Bachelor we deserved, people.)

That’s it for this week.

My top 5:

1. Danielle M.

2. Vanessa

3. Rachel

4. Taylor

5. Alexis