#does this count as dash commentary? sure.

[inkantation-arch]

   ❛  i mean, we have to save wahoo world, 8TRCKS is scheduled to perform there!  ❜

[thegoldencourtyard]

"MOTHERFUCKER!"

He wasn't exactly thinking about what he was shouting, but god damn that hurt like fucking hell. Who's idea was it to build such a small door that sometimes he forgets he has to bend down a little just to get through?!

[saccharinesunsetretired]

Forever & Always | cowboy!Wilbur x Reader

Wrote this one over the course of the past week. Feels so good to write again :) Sorry for being so incredibly absent the past few months. Blame my university.

Summary: Wilbur finally makes it to the state championship in barrel racing, although he seems off afterward. Thankfully, you always know how to cheer him up.

Warnings/Tags: Smut, a tiny bit of angst and hurt/comfort (barely), oral sex (reader receiving), good ol' riding a cowboy, mostly fluffy, soft sex, reader is afab but gender neutral

Word Count: 4.8k

MINORS DNI - BLOGS WITHOUT AN AGE INDICATOR GET BLOCKED, NO EXCEPTIONS

Inside of a massive, indoor, horse-riding arena, you sat on the stands. It was a crowded event, the audience having come from a variety of places throughout the entire state. The crowds cheered and the announcer’s voice blared over the speakers. “And next up, our first-time, state championship competitor…”

You were hardly paying attention. Instead, your eyes searched for Wilbur, who you knew was just behind the gate to the arena, sitting atop his prized horse. The crowd was cheering, the place full of people. It was the yearly barrel racing championship. Your boyfriend had been preparing for this for years, trying again and again to make it to the state finals, but never quite doing it. 

This was finally his year—-you were sure of it. You’d seen him race barrel patterns a million times now, watched him and his prized mare wind effortlessly between the obstacles as if they were one being. There was a sort of majesty to the movements, a dance that seemed effortless whenever he did it. Sure, he’d taught you how to ride, but you couldn’t ride like he could. He’d been working at this his entire life. 

It’s rather stereotypical, he’d said once. The ranch boy who grows up wanting to be a barrel racing champion. And then he’d paused, biting his lip as he gazed nervously at his horse. I just hope I get to be one of the ones who actually does it.

There had never been a doubt in your mind that he could. As the gates to the arena opened, Wilbur and his horse came dashing into it. At a speed so quick that your eyes could hardly follow the movements, they rounded the first barrel, then the second. You watched as the horse dashed all the way across the area, kicking up dust in its wake. The crowd cheered. You joined them. Despite your anxiety for him (you knew how devastated he would be if he lost), you smiled and cheered louder than all the rest. 

There was no way that he could hear you; you knew that. And yet, you tried. At least he knew that you were there. You watched as he continued, the announcer carrying on his commentary on the performance.

And then, as soon as it started, it was over. Wilbur rode his horse out of the arena just as fast as he had entered it. The announcer called it “a perfect run.” The total time for the run was only eleven seconds, the fastest run so far.

The rest of the races crawled by. It seemed like an eon before all the races were over. You sat in the stands the entire time, watching the other racers, zoning out. Only one other racer had managed Wilbur’s eleven-second time, but she got a penalty for knocking over a barrel, meaning Wilbur still had more points. 

Your heart pounded. Wilbur had won, right? Or had you zoned out and missed one? You couldn’t remember. As the announcer walked to the center of the arena, microphone in hand, you waited, hardly able to breathe. So many hours put into this sport…you couldn’t bear to see Wilbur lose.

“And the winner of the state barrel racing championship is…” The announcer checked his notebook before looking back up at the crowd. “Wilbur Soot!”

You cheered so loud that you nearly gave yourself hearing damage. A couple nearby audience members gave you startled looks, but you hardly noticed. All you could think about was the fact that he’d finally done it. You stood up, clapping and cheering for him, watching as he walked into the arena and claimed his ribbon.

You’d watched him succeed at the local level, then the regional level, and now the state level. Next, he could go on to national championships if he wanted (and you knew he would). You couldn’t have wiped the smile off your face even if you tried. You saw the smile on Wilbur’s face even from your spot in the audience, the joy that radiated off every inch of him. He thanked the announcer before walking back out of sight.

After the audience filed out of the arena, you got a text from Wilbur.

Out by the truck. Meet me there

You smiled and tucked your phone back in your pocket before practically running out to the parking lot behind the arena. The second you caught sight of him, you rushed into his arms. He laughed as he picked you up off the ground. 

You giggled and wrapped your legs around him to help him hold you. “I told you you’d do it,” you said breathlessly. 

“I fucking did it,” he replied. His tone was almost surprised, as if it was a shock to him. And perhaps it was, but it certainly wasn’t a shock to you. “I still can’t process it.”

You laughed softly, giving him a kiss on the cheek before he set you down. “I’m really happy for you, Wil.”

Wilbur was absolutely beaming. In the weeks leading up to the championship, he’d hardly smiled at all. “Thank you, darlin’,” he said. He gave you a quick kiss. “Now give me a second. I gotta make sure the horse trailer is still hooked to the truck.”

You rolled your eyes. “You really need a better trailer…” Your eyes fell on the old truck, Wilbur’s first ever car that he still used. The paint was blue and peeling off its frame. Wilbur had called it a “proper farm truck,” although you saw it primarily as a safety hazard.

“I know, I know,” Wilbur said as he checked the hitch. “It all looks good, though.”

You wandered behind the truck to the horse trailer, where Wilbur’s horse could be seen trying to poke her head out between the window bars. You laughed and gave her nose a quick pet. “Looks like Annie isn’t happy being locked up,” you said.

Wilbur sighed. “She never is.” He opened up the passenger side door of the truck and motioned for you to get in. “She’ll be fine. She’s gotta be worn out, anyway.”

You shook your head, smiling as you got in the truck. “Nah. That horse has always got energy.”

“Maybe.” Wilbur shut the door and continued talking only when he got into the driver’s seat. “But I have been working her hard.” He frowned. “Poor girl hasn’t had many breaks.”

“It’s alright,” you said. “She’ll get a nice break after this.”

Wilbur started up the truck. “Yeah,” he said quietly. The truck’s engine roared to life, making a few concerning mechanical sounds as it did so. 

Something about Wilbur seemed…off. He looked almost deflated. You weren’t sure if it was simply the adrenaline wearing off or if there was something more to it. As he drove the truck out of the parking lot and started down the road, you couldn’t help but be worried at the sight of his expressionless and unreadable face. You could almost always read him, but you were at a loss.

“You alright?” you asked.

“Of course,” he replied. “I mean, I just won the state championship. I’ve been working at that for years.” 

“And yet,” you said, “you don’t seem happy.” 

“I am,” he said, unconvincingly. “I…it’s all I’ve ever wanted, you know?”

“Is it just not as good now that you have it?”

“It’s great,” Wilbur said. “It’s awesome. Now can we please just…talk about anything else?” He definitely looked tense, his usual, relaxed posture nowhere to be found. He’d also raised his voice the tiniest bit, which he never did with you before. It was a hardly noticeable change, but a change nonetheless. 

“Sorry,” you replied quietly. You looked out the window. It was late evening, and the sun was going down. The drive back to the ranch would take about two hours, and it seemed that it was going to be a long one. 

Wilbur turned the radio on. Some country song that you didn’t recognize played over the speakers—-an old Johnny Cash tune that you couldn’t place. Wilbur loved Johnny Cash, but he wasn’t singing. He wasn’t even humming. 

You thought he would be ecstatic. He looked ecstatic. Holding that ribbon in the center of the arena, he looked beyond happy. When he’d scooped you into his arms in the parking lot, he seemed happier than ever. 

What changed? The only thing you could think of was that your presence had somehow ruined things. The thought worried you. You glanced over at Wilbur, but he wasn’t even looking your way. Maybe you hadn’t been supportive enough. Maybe you’d pressed him too hard, given him too much pressure, stressed him out. You wanted to apologize, but you weren’t sure what to apologize for. You’d done everything right…or at least, you hoped so.

Two hours passed in near-silence except for the songs on the radio. You tried to make small talk, but your attempts quickly fell flat. It was a relief when the truck finally hit the familiar dirt road that led to the ranch. 

The truck rolled up the road and toward the barn. When it finally came to a stop, Wilbur murmured something about needing to put Annie in her stall.

You rested a hand on his shoulder. “I can take care of Annie if you want,” you said softly. “Just go inside and get some rest, maybe.”

He nodded and gave you a small, weak smile. “Thanks, darlin’.” He paused, glancing away before his soft eyes met yours again. “I’m sorry for…for being…”

“It’s okay,” you said, “but can we talk about it when I get inside?”

“Of course.” He gave you a quick kiss before climbing out of the truck. You sighed to yourself and got out as well. 

For a moment, you watched as Wilbur walked up to the house. You then turned to open the door of the horse trailer. Once you did, Annie looked at you curiously. “Hey, girl,” you said softly. “Time to get you home.” You approached her and slipped her halter over her head so that you could lead her into the stall. She nearly ran you over as you led her out of the trailer, so happy to not be cooped up anymore. 

She was a good horse. Caramel-colored, built sturdy, with a small, white spot on her nose. Wilbur had rescued her from a horse sale. She was so scrawny back then, a poor, mistreated thing. I’m gonna make her into a prize-winning barrel horse, he’d said. Everyone thought he was crazy trying to turn such a wild mare into a champion, but he managed to do it. Annie had become the sweetest horse around, with endless amounts of energy. The perfect horse for Wilbur.

You opened the gate to her stall and tucked her inside. You removed her halter, checked her water and her hay, gave her a few pats, and left the barn. Wilbur had a few horses, Annie and two others that he was training up to sell for a profit. After rescuing Annie, he’d decided to do the same for more horses, giving them better lives and then selling them to good homes. He’d promised that after those two were sold, he would buy you a horse of your own. Something sturdy. Good for trail rides, he told you. He’d been begging you to go trail riding with him, and you were more than excited for it. In the meantime, you just had to figure out what was bothering him.

You walked up to the house, coming in the back door. The ranch house was relatively small, cozy in a rustic sort of way. Wilbur had inherited it from some uncle of his who passed away, and there were still vintage photos and artwork on the walls. The kitchen cabinets were worn and faded, and the furniture had been in terrible shape until Wilbur saved up to replace it. The back door led into the kitchen, and from there, you could walk down the hallway, past the living room and to the bedroom.

When you entered the bedroom, Wilbur was sitting on the edge of the bed. He was still dressed in his rodeo gear. He looked up at you, and this time, his smile was less forced. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hey you.” You sat down beside him. “Annie is settled in the barn.”

“Did you double-check the gate latch?” he asked, “Because you know that thing doesn’t close—-”

“I checked it,” you said. “It’s all good.” You gently took his hand. “Now what’s wrong?”

He looked down at the floor, unable to meet your eyes. “...I don’t think I…no, I know I don’t want to go to nationals.”

You couldn’t hide the surprised expression on your face. “I…what? But you’ve been working at this for years.”

“I know,” he said. “I…I get that you’re probably confused. I just…” He rubbed a hand down his face. “I don’t want to do it anymore. I’m tired of it. It’s not fun. It all feels like a chore. And these past few months, I feel like all I’ve done is run barrel patterns again and again and again. I’m just so tired of it. It’s not worth it anymore.” He sighed. “And I don’t want to travel around, going to rodeos. I want to just stay here on the ranch with you rather than dragging you everywhere.”

“I never minded it,” you said. “I don’t feel like I’m being dragged.” You leaned against him, head resting on his shoulder. He leaned into the touch. “But, Wil, if you’re done with racing, I support you. I may not understand fully, but I support it.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Let me put it this way,” he said slowly. “I’ve found something else I want to do.” 

That made you perk up a little. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He immediately seemed a little happier, a little more himself. “Do you remember when I bought Annie from the horse sale, and she was all…you know. Not in good shape?”

“Of course I do,” you said. “You were so excited to train her up.”

“And I did,” he said. “And I…loved doing that. Rescuing a horse, giving her a better life, and training her up.” He smiled, more to himself than anything else. “I want to keep doing it. Keep buying horses out of shitty situations, training them up, and selling them to good homes. It makes me some money, but it also saves these horses from potentially being put down and gives them something to do, you know?”

You smiled softly at that. “You did really like training Annie. And she’s a fantastic horse now.” You gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I think it’s a good plan.”

“Yeah?” He looked at you, his expression somewhat worried. “What if…I don’t know. What if I’m not good at it?”

You laughed softly, bringing another smile to his lips. “I’ve seen you train horses, Wil. You were raised training horses. You’re good at it. And I think you’ll be really happy doing that. Plus, I think it’d stress you out a lot less than barrel racing.”

He let out a chuckle. “Yeah, that’s true.” He gave you a kiss on the forehead. “So you’re alright with it? Me shifting gears like that?”

“I’m more than happy with it,” you said. “I’m proud of you, Wil. You’ve worked hard, you’ve done good. You deserve to choose whatever path forward you want.”

He smiled at that. “Thank you, hun. Nobody supports me quite like you do.” He paused, and then a small smirk came to his face. “You know…I did just win the state championship today…”

“Oh? Does my cowboy want a reward?” you asked teasingly. You figured earlier that he’d eventually say something of the sort. You teasingly flicked the brim of his hat, nearly knocking it off his head. 

“I think he deserves one, wouldn’t you say?” Wilbur grinned, and just like that, he was back to the Wilbur that you knew, the Wilbur you fell in love with. Cocky, teasing, sarcastic, but simultaneously as soft as they came. 

“Maybe he’ll get a reward,” you said. You gently took off his hat, holding it in your hand as you wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling your faces close together. “If he asks nicely.”

Wilbur shrugged. “Seems to be a fair tradeoff.” He gave you a quick kiss. “So, darlin’, would you please give a reward to this poor, lonesome cowboy?”

You laughed. “I would hardly call you poor or lonesome.” 

“I would be without you,” he said. 

“Well, thankfully this ‘poor, lonesome cowboy’ asked very nicely,” you said. You gently took Wilbur’s hat off his head and set it on the bedside table. “So yeah, I think I’ve got a reward or two to spare.”

“Then he’s very lucky,” Wilbur said. He pressed his lips to yours, and you immediately reciprocated. His hand rested on your lower back before pulling you onto his lap. You wrapped your other arm around his neck, one of your hands playing with his messy curls. His hands both went to your waist, pulling you close against him. It was as if no amount of closeness would be enough, like he needed your bodies to melt into one in order for him to come anywhere near satisfaction.

His tongue met yours, and you let out a soft hum as he continued to kiss you. His hands on your waist were gentle: firm, but soft. You could easily get away if you wanted to (but of course, that was the last thing on your mind). You cupped his cheeks, gentle fingers resting upon his skin. His lips were soft, gently touching yours. Even with tongue, the kiss was lazy and soft, more a tender meeting than a passionate one. 

He sighed between kisses, pulling away just slightly to get some air. “I love you,” he said quietly. “Just wanted you to know.” 

You couldn’t help but smile. “I know. And I love you too.” Your lips met again, this time somewhat more desperate. You heard Wilbur hum softly against your lips as you kissed, a sound almost like a moan. He was often vocal in softer moments like this one, which you loved every time. 

His hands slipped beneath your shirt, and you held back a gasp. He pulled away once again. “Can I take this off?” he asked, brown eyes looking at you in the warm lighting of the bedroom.

“Please.” Your hands reached for the hem of your shirt as soon as he did, and you helped him pull it over your head. His lips immediately went to your neck, pressing soft kisses along the length of it. His lips went to your shoulder, your collarbone, anywhere he could easily reach. Your hands went back to his hair, running through his curls as you let out soft sighs and moans. You couldn’t help but start to rock your hips against him, grinding against his lap, to which he responded with a quiet laugh.

“Not very patient, are you?” he asked teasingly. 

“Not tonight, no.” You reached for the bandana tied around his neck and untied it before tossing it aside. “That's okay with you?”

“I’m definitely not complaining,” he said. His fingers started unbuttoning his shirt, an elaborate western shirt with fringe and embroidery. He had complained about having to wear flashy rodeo gear. You, on the other hand, were a big fan of it. 

It didn’t take long for you both to get his shirt off, then his undershirt. His belt went next, although you had some trouble getting it off considering how shaky your fingers had become. There was eagerness and excitement flooding through you, knowing what was to come. You unbuttoned his jeans as he unbuttoned yours, and without much more thought given to it, you stripped yourself of them. 

He gazed at you, eyes wandering your body. “You’re so beautiful,” he said. His voice was quiet, almost reverent. Many people in these parts were religious. Wilbur had never been that way. Why would I worship a god, he’d said, if I could worship you instead?

It seemed that the same thought was running through his head. His hands gently ran down your sides as he gazed lovingly at you. “Let me get you ready,” he murmured as he kissed your jaw. You nodded wordlessly, at a loss for what to say. He didn’t seem to mind, easing you onto your back and pulling down your underwear by the waistband until it was discarded on the floor along with the rest of your clothing.  

He kissed his way down your body, taking extra time with your chest and the insides of your thighs. You squirmed a little, frustrated by the tease, but he held you down gently with his hands on your hips. It only took him another few seconds to bring his tongue to your folds, licking and kissing the sensitive skin.

You moaned, lips sealed shut to try and prevent the sound from escaping. After a few more attempts to quiet yourself, you gave up and let yourself go. Wilbur became even more enthusiastic after that. His hand found yours, and he held it gently in his hand as he continued with his mouth. He alternated between licking your folds and teasing your entrance with his tongue to lightly circling your clit. Your free hand gripped the sheets. Wilbur moaned against you, and the vibration sent tingles up your spine. 

“Feels so good, Wil,” you said, panting. “Keep going.” Your hand got a small squeeze in response, a signal that he definitely wasn’t stopping anytime soon. He spent some more time kissing and licking near your entrance before finally focusing in on your clit.

He licked it a few times, light and teasing, before properly sucking on the skin. You cried out, hips twitching against his face. You thought you heard him chuckle, felt the vibration of it against your skin, but you weren’t sure. Your mind was too foggy, too lost in pleasure to fully process anything he said.

His movements got more eager, more rough. Before long, you were gasping, back slightly arched, gripping his hand tight in one hand and the sheets in the other. You murmured an incoherent string of pleas before finally climaxing, letting out a few moans and small cries as Wilbur slowed his movements to a stop. 

He kissed the insides of your thighs and let go of your hand. He got out from between your legs, opting instead to lay beside you and pepper your face and neck in kisses as you came back to reality. 

“You alright, darlin’?” he asked. His voice was hardly above a whisper and honey-sweet. 

You smiled, cupping his cheek before giving him a soft kiss. “Perfect,” you said. “Now grab a condom before I get impatient again.”

He laughed and kissed the tip of your nose before complying, rolling to the other side of the bed, opening a bedside drawer, and grabbing one. He tugged his boxers off, revealing how hard he was. You watched with thinly veiled eagerness as he rolled the condom on. 

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to stare?” he teased.

You shrugged. “My mother also told me not to date cowboys, so I’m not on a great track record when it comes to following her orders.”

Wilbur smiled. “Clearly I was right earlier when I said I was lucky.”

“That makes two of us.” You kissed him again. “Alright, lean against the headboard a little.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You takin’ charge tonight, sweetheart?” 

“If it’s alright with you,” you said. “You’ve been working hard. The least I can do is help out a bit.” You winked, and he chuckled in response.

“Again, I’m not complaining.” He leaned against the headboard as you got on top of him, straddling him. You watched his face as you sunk down onto him—-the way his breath hitched, his mouth fell slightly open, and his eyes closed. “Jesus…”

You giggled, leaned down to give him a kiss, and started to move. At first, your hips lazily moved back and forth against him. His hands rested on your hips, gently guiding your motions. You reveled in the way he looked at you. His lips were slightly parted, his eyes unfocused. You couldn’t resist leaning forward briefly to give him a quick kiss before starting to move again. 

You moved in small circles on top of him. One of Wilbur’s hands moved up to your waist, and he lazily smiled up at you. His smile quickly turned to an open-mouthed moan as you started to move up and down, slow and almost teasing.

His hand slid back down to your hips before sliding it between your legs and rubbing your clit. It took everything in you to keep moving despite the stimulation. You made a few clumsier movements as you tried to keep yourself upright. Wilbur chuckled at your predicament. “Too much, sweet thing?” 

You shook your head rapidly. Truth be told, you felt dizzy. The combination of Wilbur’s cock filling you repeatedly as you moved up and down and his fingers on your clit had you seeing stars. You looked down at him through half-lidded eyes and kept moving despite the fact that the muscles in your legs were starting to complain.

Your attempts to keep going faltered more as time went on and your muscles grew more and more tired. Wilbur kept rubbing your clit, circling it with his fingers. You were getting closer, but you could tell that Wilbur was having trouble getting there. You attempted to keep going, and gasped loudly when Wilbur thrust up into you.

“Let me help, darlin’,” he said between soft pants. He started thrusting up against your movements, keeping you going as he got you off. 

That was all it took for you to finish. You kept moving clumsily as Wilbur’s fingers continued to work magic on your clit, helping to prolong your orgasm. You were vaguely aware of how loud you were moaning, but it was the last thing on your mind. All you could think about was the shivers going up your spine, the overwhelming feeling in your core, his fingers, his cock…

You realized quickly that you had practically slowed to a stop. Before you could start moving again, you felt his hand wrap around your back. Your world tilted as he flipped your positions effortlessly. It always surprised you how strong he was: a side effect of growing up on a ranch and doing hard labor, you supposed.

You let out a breathless giggle, and so did he. He immediately started moving again, trying to finish himself off. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and your legs wrapped around his back. His breathing was heavy, and it only took him a few thrusts before he finished too. His hips stuttered, and you felt him twitch inside you. He groaned softly, burying his face in your neck. You rested your hand on the back of his head, gently combing through his hair as he settled against you, gasping softly.

For a few moments, you laid there, Wilbur resting against you. You played with his hair, and he kissed your neck softly. You could hear the quiet sounds of the crickets chirping outside and the whisper of Wilbur’s breathing. “I love you,” you murmured.

He kissed your jaw again. “I love you too.” He sighed softly before forcing himself to pull out. You let go of him as he moved away to pull off the condom and toss it in the bedside trash can. Before you could miss his absence, he was back by your side, pulling you gently against him. 

You laid your head on his chest, and he rested an arm across your shoulders. You felt his lips kiss the top of your head. “Alright, lovely?” he asked.

“More than alright.” You snuggled closer and closed your eyes. “You?”

“I mean…it’s been a pretty damn good day for me,” he said. “And, um…” He paused, and you opened your eyes to look up at his face. “Thank you for everything. Being supportive all this time. It means the world to me.”

“Of course,” you replied. He leaned down and kissed you, and when you parted, he was smiling softly at you.

He hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “I’m yours, you know that?” 

“I know.” You laid your head back down. “And I’m yours.”

“Forever?”

You smiled and closed your eyes as he kissed your forehead again. “Yeah,” you murmured. “I could do forever.”

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Go For Gold

Prompt Day 22: Sports AU | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: None | Tags: Swimming AU, Olympic Trials, Racing, Rivalry, A Dash of Secret Relationship, Eddie & Gareth are BFFs

Eddie steps up onto the block. Rolls his shoulders. His neck. Gareth is two lanes down, in six. Eddie can see him bouncing up and down. Can tell he's nervous. Gareth didn't make the Olympic team at twenty, now he's fighting for a spot at twenty-four.

If Steve's nervous in lane five, between Eddie and Gareth, you'd never know it. Steve's twenty-seven, and has been doing this since he was fifteen. Eddie's Olympic debut came at twenty, but he thinks he was immature, even then. 

Steve has his game face on, his no-nonsense, no-bullshit approach to the sport. You don't bother Steve Harrington once he steps on the deck. It's just not done. Hell, you don't talk to him in the ready room, either. Steve will have his headphones on, serious as shit, not talking to anyone. Not even listening. Zoned out. 

Eddie is the only exception to the rule, and it's a power he doesn't abuse often. He's not trying to break Steve's focus, it's unsportsmanlike. Instead, Eddie will roughhouse with the other guys. The ones that like that to get their blood pumping before a race. 

Eddie is just a little looser. A free spirit, looking for fun. 

Sure, he wants to win medals, but it's not that serious. 

Well, it is that serious, if he's honest. Because Eddie's never trained as hard as he has in the last four years. He wants it. Bad.

For once in their parallel careers, Eddie isn't sure that Steve wants it more than he does. Steve staying in bed, while Eddie drags himself to the pool at the ass-crack of dawn. Eddie isn't sure Steve has anything left to prove. He broke all the records four years ago. 

Their rivalry is stuff of legend. Full of stupid commentary, like: "Without Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson would be the best swimmer of his generation," as if it's that simple. Without chasing Steve, Eddie thinks he might not have pushed this hard. It's a stupid hypothetical. 

This is their third Olympic Trials as number one and two. And you have to stay one and two, if you want to make the Olympic Team. You need to touch the wall first or second, with a crowd of twelve-thousand breathing down your neck every time your head breaks through the water.

They always say first is first, and second is also first, when it comes to Trials. But that's not true. Not really.

Steve Harrington definitely doesn't think so. 

Steve's not at the top of his game. He's hurting. He's getting older. They both are. Eddie's a year older, but hasn't pushed himself quite as hard. Hard, sure. But not to the extent that Steve has, year-over-year. 

Swimming's still fun for Eddie, but he's not sure that's true for Steve. Eddie thinks this might be Steve's last year, his last Olympics, and that hurts to think about. Eddie isn't ready to be done, he's still having fun, but doing it without Steve in the lane next to him seems sad.

When the buzzer sounds, they're launching into the pool, swimming the butterfly, the first leg of the 400 I.M. 

Eddie pulls ahead, but knows it won't last through the butterfly leg. Steve'll catch him, pass him, sure as shit. 

And that's how it goes. 

At the halfway mark, Eddie pops up fifty meters into the backstroke, and glances to his left and Gareth is out ahead of not only him, but Steve, too. The little shit is a helluva backstroker, these days. Steve's a half body length behind the both of them, and that's disconcerting. 

Eddie wants to beat him, absolutely, but he doesn't want Steve to fail, either. It's hard, when two people you love are also competing for a slot you want.

Switching to the breaststroke, Eddie catches Gareth quickly, and by the first turn has pulled ahead of both of them. By almost a body length, heading into the freestyle. Eddie needs that lead if he's gonna stay ahead of Steve to the end.

And he can see Steve closing the gap, but Eddie doesn't think Steve's got enough room to catch him.

And he doesn't. 

They go one-two, and for the first time at an Olympic Trials, Steve's number two.

Eddie hangs onto the lane rope and smiles, chest heaving. Steve swims towards him, also breathing hard, pulling him into a hug. Eddie hugs back, clinging to him.

"You got me," Steve says in his ear, and Eddie laughs. He's well aware they're being filmed, broadcast on live television, so he just claps Steve on the shoulder, laughs, and pulls away. Gareth is swimming under the rope, to get to Eddie, too.

"You did good, kid. You were ahead of us both!" Eddie shouts over the noise, and Gareth smiles. Eddie knew the odds weren't in Gareth's favor here, but Eddie will be right there, cheering him on in his other events. Hoping Gareth still snags a spot.

After their cooldowns, and the rest of the races for the night, they drag themselves back to the hotel. And like always, Steve's his roommate. It's been that way since the beginning. An unlikely duo, with a friendship that people like to write articles about, not totally understanding it.

Eddie dumps his bag on the floor, collapsing on his bed, groaning.

"I'm dead, bury me now," Eddie whines, smashing his face in the pillow.

Steve laughs, toeing off his shoes, and crawling in bed beside him. They have two beds, they always do, but unless it's the night before a competition, they usually squeeze into one. That's been interesting in some of the Olympic villages. Those beds are small.

Eddie rolls onto his side, and Steve slings his arm over him, pulling him closer.

"Okay, let's hear you gloat," Steve says, and Eddie laughs, leaning into Steve.

"This old man kicked your ass," Eddie says, grinning, and Steve shuts him up by pressing his lips to Eddie's, kissing him, hugging their bone-tired bodies together.

Notes: Yeah, they are based loosely on Phelps and Lochte. Two very different versions of a pro-athlete, but somehow friends. Roommates at meets, always each other's card partner, etc. (And this race, in particular.)

Olympic Trials are the end all and be all in getting on the USA Olympic Swim Team. You don't get a spot unless you finish in the top 2 (and 3-6 in the freestyle where there will be a relay.) Unlike, say, figure skating, where it is entirely up to committees. Or gymnastics, where it's half-and-half.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

[the-far-bright-center]

In discussions of TCW-Anakin vs. film-Anakin, I understand why some people see them as being incompatible or entirely different portrayals. But whatever problems I personally have with TCW are more to do with certain OOC dialogue lines that I don't agree with, or the overly-contrived situations that TCW tends to force him into just so an episode or scene can function as a 'meta-commentary' on his character or storyline. Believe me, I have issues with specific aspects of TCW's writing for Anakin, but the fact he's more outwardly 'suave' or 'dashing' than some people expected is not one of them. If anything, I see the 'Skyguy' persona as perfectly in keeping with Anakin as portrayed at the beginning of RotS, and I would argue that a great deal of the TCW characterisation is pulled directly from those Battle of Coruscant scenes. (TCW Anakin is also heavily inspired by Jake Lloyd's Little Ani in TPM, which, lest anyone forget, counts as FILM-Anakin.) The actual baseline 'persona' for both versions of the character isn't actually that different, and I'm tired of this idea that film-Anakin ISN’T supposed to be seen as ‘cool’ in-universe, just as much as I’m tired of the idea that TCW-Anakin ISN’T supposed to be viewed as a figure of pathos by the audience, either.

Imo, they’re both takes on the same character coming from different angles, set at different stages in his life, and portrayed through different mediums (animated series heavy on self-aware, darkly ironic humour in a more contemporary style intended to entertain and increase enjoyment of the Prequels-era and its characters vs. serious Greek tragedy with Shakespearean overtones made with old-Hollywood-style sensibilities as part of a mythic six-film saga). Just because TCW Ani doesn’t shed literal tears on-screen doesn’t mean he’s not emotional or emotionally vulnerable. As far as I remember, there's even a scene where Obi-Wan and Anakin discuss the fact that Anakin has trouble keeping his emotions hidden, which is the opposite of the 'macho' ideal the TCW version gets accused of being. And the amount of times we're constantly bashed over the head with dramatic irony about his fate as Vader in that series surely drives home the point that his trajectory is still a tragic one. (The way he cries out in agony in the Mortis arc, 'I will do such terrible things!' gets to me, every time.) Despite his powers and prowess, TCW Anakin is even shown as being physically vulnerable at times, as well. (See the Jedi Crash storyline which he spends mostly knocked-out unconscious, the nod to his mechanical arm as a liability in the Zillo Beast and Citadel arcs, and the scene of him futilely struggling like a wild beast before being captured with ropes in the Zyggerian arc, or the fact he gets captured and tortured by Dooku in 'Shadow Warrior'.) Fandom makes endless jokes about TCW Ani getting electrocuted every other episode, but then turns around and uses this to fuel the dismissive view of him as just some dumb himbo instead of understanding that this, too, is supposed to add to the character's pathos.

Likewise, fandom claims that film-Ani is 'uncool' and 'cries all the time', which is simply not true. Film-Anakin banters, jokes, laughs, makes daring jumps out of speeders, does bold piloting moves, is in fact an imposing duellist, and so on. Sure, his character is not supposed to be seen as aspirational (obviously!) and the most memorable and dramatic moments of the latter two Prequels films feature him in the midst of extremely intense emotions. But the oft-repeated view of him as 'uncool' completely ignores the fact that by the time that RotS starts, Anakin is also supposed to be a well-known and widely-admired charismatic general, aka the Hero With No Fear, who is viewed as almost singlehandedly saving the Republic. The audience may be privy to Anakin's inner turmoil, but in-story he is supposed to be seen as THE golden boy of the Jedi Order and the Republic. The RotS novelization frequently mentions that Anakin has 'dash', 'boldness', and a 'presence' 'like the Holo-Net hero that he is'. It literally says he's the best at what he does and he KNOWS it. He's not just supposed to be some sad, awkward idiot like the fandom thinks he is (rather, he's supposed to be shown as falling from a 'great height'). By the time of RotS, film Anakin has just as much swagger and self-confidence in his role as General Skywalker as he does in TCW. Just because that side of him is not the main focus of the film doesn't mean it's not supposed to be there.

[lordisitmine]

about the author

I saw this going around and decided to do it even though literally no one asked lmao

1 . How did you get into writing fanfiction?

I've been writing short stories and developing characters since I was about eight years old, but when I was twelve or thirteen I was really into the Teen Titans animated series, and I wrote a story about an OC I had made (meant to be a self-insert) and Robin being in love. I had NO IDEA it was a thing other people did or that it was called fanfiction but looking back that's definitely what it was.

And then two or so years later, I was introduced to fanfiction through a friend and Tumblr and all of that. And you can bet as soon as I realised this was a thing I could do with any number of characters, and that I had a knack for it, I was INSTANTLY on it like white on rice.

2. How many fandoms have you written in?

As far as my posted fics on AO3, eleven fandoms. But it's probably more like fifteen? Sixteen? There are stories I've taken down and ones I wrote for friends back in the day for fandoms I was never even in.

3. How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

If you count the infamous self-insertxRobin story (that I have since lost the file for, which is devastating), about sixteen years. If you don't count that, then about thirteen years. I'm almost thirty years old so... that's about half of my lifetime now.... *wheezes*

4. Do you read or write more fanfiction?

I read WAY more than I write because writing takes effort and reading does not! Also, reading fanfiction is a great way for me to get in the head-space to write, so it's actually part of my process, in a roundabout way.

5. What is one way you’ve improved as a writer?

Just one? Oh boy. Honestly, just proper sentence structure: e.g. "Using commas instead of periods at the end of quotations ->, <-" they said. And using fewer em dashes and italics, (thought not that many fewer oop). And shortening my sentences, not allowing them to go on and on forever. I feel that a lot of writing just comes naturally to me, and I do it so much that any improvement in voice and tone has just happened gradually, so it's hard to pin down. But I've improved in those ways too for sure, just by virtue of doing the thing repeatedly for many years.

6. What’s the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

I cannot even think of one that is remotely weird. I'm sorry to say I don't write a lot of truly weird things- I write alternate canon/canon divergence fics, so I'm never in the wild AU territory. Stuff like undergarments in the Victorian era and how long certain wounds take to heal are about as weird as it gets for me. I did look up the shelf life of jarred pickles for a fic, once. But again, that isn't really weird at all by any stretch of the imagination.

7. What’s your favorite type of comment to receive on your work?

I love all my comments equally. I really do especially like it when people tell me their favourite specific scenes or lines, and kind of do commentary on what they were thinking/feeling while reading, as wel as guess/predict what's going to happen next. But again, even if a comment is simply "<3" or "AAAA", it brightens my day immensely. You should always send a comment if you can, authors need them to live.

8. What’s the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

Again, literally nothing I write about is really that fringe to begin with, so it's hard to answer this question. I guess if you want to count the intricacies of Faustian bargains as I head-canon them to work, and like, made-up occult rituals and blood magic, then sure, that's probably the most fringe thing I write about, I guess.

9. What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

Anything that doesn't ultimately have a happy ending! Major character death! I cannot even conceive of how I would force myself to write those things!! I am a softy of the Highest Order who needs happy endings in my things! I do not enjoy tragedy, I do not fuck with main character death/permanent break-ups! If it happens in canon I will literally be the first one writing a fix-it. I've done it before, and I will do it again!

10. What is the easiest type?

Case-fic. Give me a character solving a mystery any day. I love committing fictional murder and then sending the blorbos off to find the fictional bad guys. It's the easiest thing in the world for me to come up with a conspiracy and a plot to take over the world and then have the protags come in and fuck shit up for the villains. I love it to death. It's my bread and butter.

11. Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

I write anywhere and everywhere. At home (at my desk, on the couch, in bed), at the library, in the waiting room at the doctor's office. I use Microsoft word on my PC, my laptop, and my phone. I stopped using Google docs because of data scraping for AI and the fact they're beginning to censor explicit content, which is insane, it's people's private docs, fuck off! honestly, Microsoft probably isn't any better but it's what I'm used to so I'm kind of stuck with it, at least for the time being.

I do a lot of writing by hand! Like, a LOT. I always have, since I started writing as a kid when I didn't have access to my own private computer (the 2000s were a different time). I love it very dearly and have a whole bin of notebooks under my bed full of drafts and things. I get complemented on my penmanship a lot, and that's why, lmao.

12. What is something you’ve been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

I've been in fandom a long time, and I was never into A/B/O. No judgment, I just didn't get the appeal. But that changed about six or seven months ago, and now I think I'd like to try my hand at writing it, having read a bunch of it now and have a better idea of how it works/what the rules and tropes are. I'm kind of obsessed with it, honestly.

13. What made you choose your username?

Way back in the distant, dark time of 2013, when I sat down to make an ff.net (remember fanfiction.net?) account, I was deep in my Supernatural phase. And reader, I was what we used to call a Sam Girl. And at the time, one of my favourite songs that reminded me of Sam Winchester was Lord Is It Mine by the band Supertramp. The rest is history.

I tag any writer who sees this and wants to do it!

[ladyluscinia]

I was too busy, uh, watching more Black Sails yesterday (😆) to really notice how huge the pirate poll blew up until the drama was all over my dash, but damn

Anyway... wait, pause to acknowledge a few disclaimers like a) Black Sails and OFMD are entirely different shows for different audiences with different messages, so the individual words "gay", "pirate", and "show" hit almost every similarity they have (and they both do what they are trying to do! - it's just a poor comparison to each other), b) even a little harassment goes a long way for OP so maybe Tumblr should do less blatantly mocking them, if only because there are thousands of us and they are kinda outnumbered, and c) voting Flint in a silly pirate poll is not bravely taking OFMD to task for problematic aspects no matter how you spin it. Ok, now... Anyway, I do think this whole thing is another great case study in how petty fandom drama can look so much bigger than it actually is.

Like, for all the current narrative is this huge wave of Black Sails fans jeering and joking in the tags in support of curbstomping Stede, real numbers paint a different picture. When I checked the poll this morning, a few hours after it closed, it had around 2300 reblogs. A lot, to be clear. Plenty to look overwhelming to the poll runner in their notifs. But compare that to the total votes:

2300 vs 21,500??? Stede lost with something near 4 times as many votes as the total number of reblogs. The vote difference was nearly twice the reblog count. Even if every reblog came with commentary (not true) and all commentary was Flint fans maliciously dunking on OFMD (not remotely true), that hypothetical "toxic" element still would never have been anything near the majority. And this makes perfect sense!

It's a random cross-fandom tumblr bracket! You look at two pictures and pick either your blorbo, your fandom, the best vibes, or the guy you don't have filtered for being annoying. Hell, just positioning it at all as OFMD fandom vs Black Sails fans / OFMD haters isn't accurate, because I'm a decently skewed OFMD blog and literally everyone I saw in my section of this (massively divided) fandom was voting Flint 🤣. He wasn't an underdog in any respect.

I'm sure there was enough notably aggressive hate to upset OP since they are the one who would be getting all the notifs and even anons (who I'm sure we all expect to come in with calm and well reasoned observations 🙃), but I'm not actually sympathetic enough to pretend they didn't react terribly and contribute to blowing it out of proportion.

Flint didn't win due to a harassment campaign or even a massive resurgence of dedicated fans, guys, and Stede didn't get unfairly curbstomped into oblivion. Tumblr just widely voted on their fave pirate the way tumblr does 🤷‍♀️

[dcviated]

mun meme

𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍!

★  NAME:  Bear/Will

★  PRONOUNS:  hee/hoo him

★  BEST EXPERIENCE: I think you can get a variety of experiences at a variety of places and each of them will be 'good' or 'cool' in some way. Most of my writing at this point is related to stuff I've done in tumblr, but I don't resent or detest the platforms I used of yore. Avatar games were cool. Discord/IM isn't the worst thing. But I think the best part of writing here is the shared experience for those invested? Easier to see things go down? 

★  PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION: Discord, easily. I mean I'm definitely reachable on tumblr IM but once we start getting into plotting I'd really rather move to something... functional. Searchable! And palatable. Tumblr IM is none of these things... it just kinda(kinda) works. So y'know.

Now that said, with the communication... I don't need a ton? You don't have to message me every day? I know I sure as hell don't message everyone everyday... I'm more of a reactive sort. Once you hit me up I'll chat away. But I can be silent for days or weeks on end otherwise. Trying to fix that...

★  MOST ACTIVE MUSE: Wylan is always able to come out and shitpost a little bit here and there. But writing his long posts can actually be a little more taxing. I'd say... Raguna and Eira are definitely the ones buzzing around more? I did a whole variety of drafts today, if you noticed. That said my roster isn't exactly the largest. And most of my public muses aren't the hardest to start a fire under outside of say... Armstrong. He's usually my weakest muse.

★  EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS: I first got into RP as a result of an ex, but I spring boarded from there into way more things than I started with. I'd say my first writing came about... 2005 or 2006? Hard to pinpoint exactly. So yeah it's been a good 18 years at this point. That said, I was on a huge writing sabbatical between 2009 and 2015, so I can't technically count it all. 2009 is when I dropped WoW (and writing in there) and 2015 is when I gave tumblr rp a shot out of a need to do more creative writing. 😩

★  RP PET PEEVES:  

So here's a few ... I'm grumpy. And specific with my hobby time.

Not meeting halfway with plotting. I get it, sometimes ideas are hard to come by. But if you're coming to someone wanting interactions you can't treat your RP partner like a vending machine rolling out thing after thing for you to clap over. It's important to share the burden (as plotting can sometimes be) and provide some insight. The best plots are a back and forth of "yes, and-" or "no, but-".

Sub-point to this one, but I think most of the onus does fall on you if you're dropping threads to kick off ideas for new ones. Even after a hiatus! It's what I've been doing!

Excessive commentary blogging. Before it was just a lot of dash commentary that had me going 'eh'. But in recent years it's gone past that. I've become disenchanted with blogs that become largely commentary for whatever it is they're doing on discord. All power to those discord groups doing what they do! But it reaches a point for me that I don't really see them as indie, and it can feel insurmountable trying to interact with them if you're not entangled with their zig-zagging plotlines.

And of course~!!!

Blog hoppers. Because for a slow burner and long hauler like myself, they're the most impossible people to write with! Which is a shame, because a lot of the hoppers I come across do seem to have some writing talent to them!!!

★   PLOTS OR MEMES: I.... really don't mind either at this point! It swells my soul when people approach me for plotting or interactions to begin with. I sometimes lament how flexible I can be because it makes getting some things off the ground difficult, but that's beyond inspiring to get something going that someone else made the effort. Just... as long as they keep it going past the greetings. :') See pet peeve point 1.

But anyone wanting to randomly jump into my inbox? More than welcome too!

★  ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S)?: I put a little bit of myself in all of my muses, and find some traits to relate to in all the canons I've added to my roster. But at this point most of the character writing I do comes from some degree of misdirection of my emotion or mindset. Wylan has a lot of my humor, is about all I can really pin down now for my OCs... I may have planted the seeds with facets of my personality but at this point they've all grown far past all that.

tagged by: @more-than-a-princess the old guard need to stick together!!! thanks for the tag <: tagging: @seawrought @darksails @pastballads @mielmoto @psychcdelica and whoever else or nobody whatever!

[isolaradiale]

POLICY REGARDING NSFW

Hey everyone!

We don't mean to jump scare you with a sudden policy post, but we just need to go over some things real quick.

To preface, we'd like to talk a little about why we're making this post. The group has been around for years now, but there hasn't really been much of a NSFW presence up until very recently. Not that it's inherently bad and it certainly isn't against our rules, but we've had to examine our current policies because of it.

Our group is 16+ because of a survey we ran last year and it was what the majority of our members decided, and at present we have no intention of overruling that. We may eventually run a new survey about making the group 18+ again in the future, but for the time being we'd like to reiterate our current policies and build upon them.

We're also not against people writing smut in the group! We want to say that outright. Our goal is to make sure it is done respectfully and carefully and accommodates the comfort of as many people as possible.

EXISTING POLICIES

both muns must be at least 18 years of age, and both muses must be at least 18 years of age both physically and mentally

you cannot write sexual content that is non-consensual between both parties either out of character or in-character

if you post smut, the entire post must be under a readmore and tagged appropriately

if you write nsfw with a minor you will be banned from our group

ADDITIONAL POLICIES

going forward, if you post smut on your blog you must put "18+" at the start of your blog title so that it's evident that this content might be on your blog before anyone dives into it

if you choose to write smut, your answer to the question on the application regarding whether you're okay with writing with minors on your blog must be no. this means if you choose to write smut on an account, you cannot write with muns who are under the age of 18 on that account

going forward we ask that you do not post suggestive content in the open and mini tags. an innuendo or the like that could be innocently misconstrued is fine, but nothing that's outright inappropriate. you can still continue to post these as commentary or the like, though!

NSFW CONTENT AND ACTIVITY

while we allow nsfw content to be written in the group, it should not be the bulk of your activity. we don’t expect this to be an issue, but this isn’t strictly an 18+ community. even if it was, nsfw content is not the focus of this particular rp group. it’s fine to pepper your regular activity with the odd nsfw interaction if it strikes you, but please be conscientious of prioritizing regular interactions over writing smut

nsfw posts can count towards your monthly activity, and they can also count towards ranking up. however, please make sure that in the latter case, you must note if a particular thread/character tag contains smut. If there are any nsfw images, that must also be clearly marked. this applies mostly to written smut, not an implied scenario where muses sleep together. the occasional nsfw dash topic or thread does not need to be marked in your threads page either. this also doesn't apply to 'fade to black' scenarios where no actual r18 content is present

Going forward we'll be keeping a close eye on how this scene evolves and we'll make any adjustments to these policies as they're needed. In the meantime thank you for taking the time to read this!

-- the island stars.

[semper-legens]

23. Circus of Wonders, by Elizabeth MacNeal

Owned: No, library Page count: 369 My summary: Nellie was born with blotches all over her skin, and that makes her a freak in her home village. Unable to marry her off, her father seeks an alternate solution when the circus comes to town. There Nellie meets Jasper Jupiter, the circus’ gregarious and fame-hungry leader, and his younger brother Toby, haunted by something dark in his past. But as Nellie grows to like her new life, trouble is brewing on the horizon. The circus is in trouble. And Jasper will stop at nothing to make his name... My rating: 3.5/5 My commentary:

Why am I drawn to books about the circus? No, I know the answer to that. There's two answers, actually - one answer is that I read The Night Circus at a formative age, imprinted on the story, and continued to read books that might be like it in an effort to capture the magic, and the other is that books about circuses tend to have themes of being an outsider or outcast from 'normal' society, something I can relate to. This is a more historical novel than the fantasy of The Night Circus, though it does have themes of the fantastical and how fantasy and reality intersect, which are interesting.

Really, though, this is a story about family. Jasper and Toby's power imbalance, Nellie's strained relationship with her birth family and the acceptance she finds at the circus, Pearl's arrival and Nellie's immediate attachment to her - this book is largely about the familial, and what it means to be a family and have family ties. Nellie learns that she wants to continue her career and perform for the rest of her life, but she also wants to be seen as a person, and her birth marks mean that she is viewed as a freak by all but her fellow circus performers. Initially, she wants to run to America with her brother and have a farm; Toby later proposes a similar arrangement with them as a couple, from which she recoils as she realises she prefers her sorority of circus 'freaks'. Toby, meanwhile, has spent a life in his brother's shadow and longs to shine, but a horrible event in their past has rendered him meek and subservient. Jasper is definitely taking advantage of him, but he loves his brother and wants to get their dream circus, even if it seems impossible due to Jasper's lofty ambitions.

The other major theme is greed. Jasper wants to be great, and is willing to throw pretty much everyone in his path under the bus to achieve that goal. He takes out loans and then doesn't pay them back because he's spent all the money expanding. He grows jealous of Nellie's fame, and cuts her out of the show to disastrous effect, finally going into a meltdown when Toby takes over as Jasper Jupiter for a show, cracking and creating metal automatons who don't need to be paid or fed and don't get sick to replace his performers, reasoning that it'll gain him more money. One thing I found interesting about Jasper's descent into avarice is how he isn't completely vilified - sure, he's a terrible person, but the narrative shows his point of view and leads the reader to sympathise with him, and understand why he is the way that he is, which is always interesting in an antagonist. His greed comes out of, initially, desperation, and then a consuming desire for fame that takes over him completely. His descent is honestly chilling.

That's not to say that this book didn't put a foot wrong, however. From the minute the mystery of what happened between Jasper, Toby, and their dead friend Dash in the Crimea is brought up, I guessed exactly what it was, and when it was revealed...yep, I was exactly right. I also wonder about narratives like this that focus on freak show performers but give focus mostly to performers whose bodies are considered more 'normal' by our society (Nellie's birth marks, Toby's tattoos, Pearl's albinism) than those who are not (Stella the bearded lady,  the giantess). That's not to say that these characters aren't sympathetic or portrayed with nuance, more that I wonder about the underlying causes of who gets to be a protagonist in these kinds of stories. Overall, though, I really enjoyed it, even if it didn't quite scratch that Night Circus itch for me.

Next up, it's time for something both a little lighter and a little heavier, with a portrait of a relationship.

[luckynatured]

Hilbert’s views on therapy/today’s dash shenanigans in a nutshell.

[valorandgold-archived]

@bloodthirstymoonstone

“Just remember...step even slightly out of line...”

“And I’ll make you wish I was the Fell Dragon himself instead of a child gifted with his power when I let his blood that flows through me take control. Why? Because he would have mercy enough to just kill you outright.”

[abeautifulblog]

How can the show runners say Jaskier isn’t bi after they inserted the whole ‘no artist is safe’ line….god I’m tired

I’m not sure; that was after S1, and they do seem to have unambiguously changed their tune about him in S2.

I wish I could track down that interview to be sure I'm not imagining it, but I recall Lauren saying something that ruled out a bisexual interpretation for Jaskier, and then turning around and promising queer rep in the next season -- which pinged me as really fuckin’ sus.

Because queer viewers were already embracing Jaskier as one of their own, all she had to do was say “sure!” and reap the fan praise. So for her to go “no no, not him. you can’t have him, but don’t worry, we’re going to give you other queer rep,” really made it sound like they wanted their inclusivity points, but didn’t want anyone important to be queer. That they were going to give us a two-second background Disney kiss and expect us to be thrilled with the ~representation~.

(Though I later learned that Ciri is canonically bisexual, so maybe that was the upcoming rep she was referring to?)

...And then S2 came out and Jaskier was really fuckin queer. o_O

He straight-up says that Geralt broke his heart, and he’s got his banger breakup track, and he and Yennefer have their “better off without him” toast -- and I’m hard-pressed to come up with a heterosexual explanation for all that, but they also never come out and actually say it, so who knows, he might fly under straight people’s radars.

Did they change their minds about letting Jaskier be bi?

Does heavy queer coding count as rep? 

...Did they write all that while somehow still laboring under the misapprehension that he’s straight?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

tbh, I have no idea what this show thinks it’s doing most of the time. There’s such a disconnect between what the showrunners say they’re doing, vs what’s actually happening onscreen, that I don’t find it particularly profitable to seek out their commentary, I just see it when it comes across my dash.

[tsarisfanfiction]

"By the Mysterons, who can replicate anything that's been destroyed and recreate it under their control," Lieutenant Green finished, sounding absolutely horrified. "How did we miss that?" Captain Blue asked, a little faintly. It was John's turn to swear. "Oh no they fucking don't." I'd love to know your thoughts baout this section - it was so exciting and I really enjoy rereading it ! 5/5

Send me a section of one of my fics to get a behind-the-scenes commentary on it

I'm just gonna copy out the whole section with formatting here rather than screenshot the chain of asks as this was the only one that contained anything other than the fic quote. My commentary will be right underneath!

John didn’t quite swear, but Scott figured he wasn’t far off. “No- that’s not- no-” “John, what-” he started, before a flood of light entered the villa.  Light that was supposed to be blocked out by the tsunami defences. The tsunami defences that were sliding back down into the sea. “Kayo!” “I don’t know why!” she protested, struggling with the controls.  “It’s not responding!” “Uh… is your swimming pool supposed to be moving?” Captain Blue asked. “What?”  Scott dashed over to the balcony to see that, sure enough, the swimming pool was retracting as though Thunderbird One was about to launch.  He leaned against the glass doors, trying to look down to see if Thunderbird One was underneath, but before he could tell, the doors moved, retracting and returning the villa to its usual open air status. “We must have been hacked!” Kayo said, still wrestling with the controls. “How?” Gordon asked, casting around wildly as though he’d be able to find a way to stop it.  “That’s not-” “Does anything have access to your systems?” Lieutenant Green asked.  “Anything at all?” “Not anymore,” John said, waging his own war against the system from the desk, if the way his fingers were little more than a blur was any indication. Both Colonel White and Mel had vanished, Scott noticed distractedly as he stumbled back from the suddenly-open doors. “What do you mean, anymore?” Captain Blue demanded. “The communication hub?” Captain Scarlet asked. “That had access to everything,” Scott confirmed, watching John and Kayo fight with the systems and feeling frustrated that it was a battle he couldn’t help with.  “But it was destroyed.” “Destroyed,” Captain Scarlet said, flatly. “Destroyed… by the Mysterons,” Captain Blue added.  Scott almost snapped at them to stop repeating useless information they already knew, but something about their body language made him pause. “By the Mysterons, who can replicate anything that’s been destroyed and recreate it under their control,” Lieutenant Green finished, sounding absolutely horrified. “How did we miss that?” Captain Blue asked, a little faintly. It was John’s turn to swear. “Oh no they fucking don’t.”

Oh, this passage. This passage was so much fun like you wouldn't even believe. Scott and the rest of IR doing their damndest to keep Spectrum as in the dark as possible while everything is literally exposing itself, and of course Spectrum being smart cookies who are noticing things and taking note of everything. Everything. I had so, so much fun, here.

Sorry, Scott.

Balancing all the characters in this scene was a little tough (the fic as a whole, actually). I do best when I'm dealing with maybe four, five at a push, characters in a scene - preferably two or three, so having *counts* seven characters who all refused to go underground/were needed for plot reasons running around in what was supposed to be a high-charged scene full of tension was a challenge. If you're wondering why Virgil, Alan, Brains, Grandma and the Angels were stuffed out of the way for most of the fic - that's why. Anyone else in this scene would have ruined the balance. As it was, it was a bit like walking on a tightrope, but the intention here was to focus on two or three characters in particular - Scott, as this chapter's narrator, John, and to some extent Captain Blue, with the others providing more of a support role.

John starting this scene by definitely not swearing because John doesn't swear unless it's the literal apocalypse under normal situations but ending the scene (and the chapter) by swearing because he's just realised his precious Thunderbird is being used to kill them was a little bit of self-indulgence.

And actually, let's talk about that. One of the biggest things I had to figure out when I was writing this fic (as @janetm74 and @gumnut-logic know because they were the unfortunate souls on the receiving end of my endless musing on the topic) was how the Mysterons were actually going to try and kill IR. Thunderbird Five's destruction and recreation under the control of the Mysterons took a little while to come to me as a work-around for Tracy Island's defences. Originally I was thinking something like how am I going to sneak a Mysteron agent onto IR to sabotage them from the inside? The brainwave that was Thunderbird Five (why sneak an agent in when they literally have IR's supercomputer in a position to be under their control?) was the sort of thing that had me literally bouncing around the room when it occurred to me. I was so smug about figuring that one out! Actually, I'm still really proud of that little plot twist... which I'm not actually sure anyone saw coming, judging by the various comments on the fic.

As for actually writing this scene - it was one of those I was full of glee about. I'm sure any fic writer will tell you there are moments in fics that you're just chomping at the bit to unleash on your poor, unsuspecting readers, and this scene was that for me in this particular fic. The way it starts with John not-panicking, and then IR's secrets starting to crumble, and the rest of them joining in on the panic while Spectrum desperately try and pry the relevant information out of them, before we finally get all the pieces of the puzzle and the glaringly obvious hole in their security that they'd have noticed if IR hadn't been quite so tight-lipped about their secrets (Captain Blue's sheer disbelief that they missed something that should have been so obvious, Lt. Green being the one to spell it out like the communications officer he is, all three of them putting everything together the moment they heard that the destroyed communications hub was so intertwined with IR's systems while IR were a half-step behind because they don't really know the Mysterons... Although John was more like a quarter-step behind because it's John and his little "waged war" on the system would've revealed TB5 as the culprit very quickly, especially to him of all people).

It was important to me in this fic to not make either organisation seem like they were "better" than the other. IR and Spectrum do very different things and they're both the best at what they do, but when it comes to overlapping into each other's jurisdictions... well, it's not quite so smooth sailing. Scott's youth and relative inexperience work against him a little in places, but on the other side, his reasonings are solid and he's constantly being underestimated by Spectrum because of his youth.

I also really, really wanted a John and Lt. Green tag-team. Kayo was a necessary evil in this fic (she's IR's head of security and decent with tech, there was no way to justify leaving her out), but John and Lt. Green? Rather a terrifying combination and the one I was most excited about writing out of all of them (although the cautious military interactions between Military Bros and the two Captains was also a fun game of "who's gonna crack first").

Poor Gordon in this scene, though. He had literally nothing to do but he was important earlier and was never going to leave Scott to fend off the two Captains alone (although Scott was equally useless and mad about it, in a mirror with Captain Scarlet, because I really wanted a plotline where for once he had to sit back and be useless and frustrated about it, much like poor Captain Blue ends up being most of the time in canon...)

But yeah, this was the twist reveal scene and I was lapping up the reactions to this as they came in! I'm so glad you found it as exciting as it was intended to be :D

[tottymatsuno]

Pink Angel From Hell Chapter 2: The Return

Author: Roro (halfeviltotty)

Fandom: Osomatsu-san

Pairing: Todomatsu x reader

Category: romance, host au, character study

Rating: T ig bc i havent actually written anything nsfw yet

Summary: going back for more

Word count: i gotta take this question out. you'll see when its done.

Warnings: hes mean, ladies. based off of the drama cd. watch it or dont say nothing. its in the first chapter and is required reading.

Commentary: i dont feel like doing a ton so heres another upload. pretend these uploads are my broadcast version and when i fix them in post to upload them on ao3 those are the bluray releases. im so fucking sleepy

"Y/N-chan." Nishimura calls you out when classes are over, and casually confesses his affections for you while the two of you walk together. It's a quick yet not so half hearted affair as you'd like to think.

"Please give me time to answer…" You say already regretting not rejecting him up front. It's not that he's mean or cold or anything wrong with him. In fact there's nothing wrong with him as far as you can tell. You’re just infatuated with Todomatsu as embarrassing as that might be.

Your mind races back to the piece of candy Todomatsu left in your closed palm that night and already aware you've got it bad.

It really sucks and the thought has you sighing and nearly crying all day. Why couldn't he be as cute and flirty as Totty as he likes to be called? Why do you hate conflict so much? Can't you say no to anybody?!

It's already been a few days since you met Todomatsu and you're craving that sugary attention again. Your mind wanders to how his hands might feel, especially when you think about those big brown bedroom eyes he gave you when you fixed your skirt.

The following few days have been filled with thoughts on Todomatsu. You have to see him again, you absolutely know that for fact. But...how pathetic are you to be so infatuated with someone who you have to pay to like you?

Argh!! It's just too confusing!! Why did Todomatsu have to be so dang ole cute?! You think almost angry at yourself. Why couldn't you have met him in normal circumstances?! What school does he go to, what are his hobbies, what do you have in common other than...than WHAT?!

Today.

You need to see him Today. Well actually you've needed to see him since yesterday but you've been stubborn.

The curiosity and urgency causes you to nearly dash to your car. You need to know more about him or you will surely wither away like an old Victorian white woman from the consumption.

It's not a far drive from your school or at least doesn't feel like one when you park your car. You survey your outfit, check your hair and reapply your lipgloss to make sure you look your absolute best as you exit your vehicle.

You enter and instantly feel out of place by yourself. Oh Goooddd, you plead to yourself, what if he isn't here?!

In another flash and a lot of ushering you manage to say you're here for Todomatsu. Which is a surprise to everyone, "Not Karamatsu-kun?" they asked.

Your eyes trailed from the corner of the room along an overjoyed and skipping Todomatsu with the most angelic blush on his delicate cheeks.

He seemed to be cheering up until his eyes met yours. Todomatsu slyly winks at you, before metering his excitable expression. Instead he waves and then all at once with your eyes never leaving his, Todomatsu is in front of you. He slides into the seat next to you gracefully.

"You miss me?" Todomatsu asks syrupy sweet. YES! Of course!!

Instead you awkwardly giggle, finally averting your eyes. "Hah...you could say that…" You mutter.

"I missed you too, Y/N-chan." Todomatsu says sincerely.

"Really? Please don't say that…" You blush, covering up your hot face.

"Ehh, why not Y/N-chan! It's true." Todomatsu cutely protests.

“If you say it like that, I’ll really believe it." Your mind, heart and other assorted parts are all in agreement that you should believe him, even for different reasons. Your mind cynically reminds you that he's being paid to say that.

"It is though," Todomatsu's hand grazes yours as he settles in with the menu. He placed it on the table and gestures for you to pick it up.

“What drink should we start off with?” Todomatsu begins right as your brain commences its tirade of bitterness.

Your eyes scan the menu, you see a reasonably priced drink and… WOW that's a high alcohol content! You ended up pointing out another drink that had less of a percent but was also more expensive.

Todomatsu all but snatches the menu away to point out more expensive drinks. “What about this one, Y/N-chan? It tastes better, and is more suited for a cute girl like you!”

You laugh nervously, you've always been the sort who is up-sold. “This one sounds better to me though, Totty.” You say avoiding the much more expensive drink.

Todomatsu scoffs under his breath which you find rude until he then looks at you dead in the eyes and says, “I'm just glad you're drinking tonight, last time you didn't seem to be enjoying yourself very much with your friends. I want to make you as comfortable as possible, so order what you like!”

His fakeness astounds you, and you find yourself feeling something mixed. On one hand, his words were honeyed and sweet, on the other his little scoff has you feeling some type of way.

He even winks at you. Of course you swoon, of course! That settles the animosity that was growing in your mind, Todomatsu isn't rude after all!

Todomatsu’s charms start out the gate with your heart racing. Soon after ordering your drinks, Todomatsu turns all his attention onto your hair. “Your hair is so gorgeous, you must put a lot of work into maintaining it.”

It's not the first time somebody has complimented your hair, but it's the first time Todomatsu has so it's special.

“Your eyes are also lovely, and you have such a feminine physique. Ahh, I really like you. You're really cute!”

Once he has you hooked in with the flirtation and praise Todomatsu flips a switch and gets down to business. Suddenly you're being bombarded with things on a menu, and it's going too fast to deflect each request he puts on your already thin wallet.

"Why not try the short cake? Also you need another drink to wash it down with, right?" Todomatsu has you feeling obligated to buy everything on the menu. If you do though you'll be in so much debt!

Thinking about the money situation, Todomatsu lays the charms on thick and heavy.

"Ahh, Y/N-chan! You're so cute when you drink. Look at those flushed cheeks, you must really like drinking with me huh? You handle your drinks well, but be careful or you'll become like an old man."

You giggle at this, once again incrementally calming down in Todomatsu’s company.

“I know a secret spell to make you more relaxed than this though, ” Todomatsu suddenly begins after noticing how nervous you still are from his demeanor. “What is it?” You ask humbly almost ready for anything that could make this go even smoother. Please, anything to make him like you! BUT cheaply!!

“Say 'I want champagne!’ and you'll become a princess!” Todomatsu claps his hands at the end of his exclamation, eyes twinkling with expectation.

Your face falls, you scoot a little away from him and you can't hide your discomfort by the words. You know what the champagne command means and you also know you can't afford it. The fact that he's trying to gauge you for every penny you have completely ruins any fantasy you had of his character.

“Um, Totty…” You start off with, not really feeling this or him too much anymore, “Yes, Y/N-chan? The words are, 'I want champagne.’” He urges you again. Todomatsu is waiting almost impatiently for you to say the words.

Just as you were about to end whatever relationship or transaction you were having with Todomatsu, his older brother shows up to your table with a disappointed glower.

“Todomatsu.” Karamatsu starts a more serious voice than you've ever heard from him before. “Your eagerness is making her uncomfortable, you look more like a salesman than a host right now.”

Karamatsu scolds him, and you feel relief that somebody pointed it out. Instead of looking at the situation critically, Todomatsu begins to whine.

“Ehh? Are you serious, Karamatsu-niisan?”

“Look at how uncomfortable she looks.” Karamatsu jerks his head to your direction.

Todomatsu turns to you with those impossibly big doe eyes and asks, “Are you uncomfortable, Y/N-chan? Was I really pushing too hard?”

Taking a page from Chiyo’s book you down the liquid courage before answering. “Um...you were coming off a tinesy bit strong, Totty…”

Todomatsu looks mortified by your small admission, especially when Karamatsu verbally agrees.

“You have a lot to learn still, but the most important thing is be yourself and not to try so hard, Todomatsu.” Karamatsu walks off in a manner even you think is cool even though he's not your type in the least.

“I think Karamatsu-niisan is right. Maybe I should just relax…” Todomatsu slumps in his seat, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“Say, Y/N-chan. Why do all the girls favor Karamatsu-niisan? What's he got that I don't have? I’m way cuter than him, right?”

Todomatsu aggressively whines, taking a swig out of his own drink with his free hand. His cheeks flush and the bitter expression on his face could be from the alcohol or from his own sorry feelings.

When you don't answer right away, Todomatsu sighs. “At least you chose me. Let's start over Y/N-chan.”

“Can I say something before we start over?” You ask in a small voice.

Todomatsu sucks in a breath, clearly readying himself for the worst case scenario. “You don't want to switch to Karamatsu-niisan, do you?”

“No thanks.” At your words Todomatsu sighs in relief. “What is it then?” Todomatsu tilts his head so suddenly he's invading your personal space in a much broader way. If you bent your head down just slightly the two of your lips would touch.

“I-I…!” You instantly turn away from him, unable to face the music and tell him how you feel. COWARD!! You mentally scold yourself, is there anyone out there a bigger chicken than you?!

“Ne, talk to me...what'd you want to say?”

You steel yourself for the admission you're about to make.

“I like you, Totty. I think you're the cute one. I don't know why you aren't more popular, but I’ll always support you. I just don't like being upsold like this, I want to have a good time with you...but not have to go into debt to do it. Do you understand? I want you to like me too."

Even if only in a financial context you inwardly sigh.

Only because he looks so damn cute right now! Anyone else you would've left high and dry and never returned, but Todomatsu has a clutch on your heart like none other. How did that even happen?

“Really?” Todomatsu asks in the most open and vulnerable voice you've heard from him yet.

“Of course.” You say with a deep conviction. To simply put it, because you like him. There's an attraction towards Todomatsu you've only felt towards 2D characters.

Todomatsu's pretty kitty mouth slips into a sweet grin. He moves even closer into your personal space, and whispers almost kindly in your ears, “You really are cute, Y/N-chan. I think I just might fall for you. “ His lips do graze your ear lightly, you try your hardest not to verbally acknowledge the feelings this stirs in you.

“Wh-why don't we drink something!”

“Okay!” Todomatsu cheers, moving away from your tingling ear.

After removing himself from your bubble, you only manage to get three more drinks in before your low tolerance gets the better of you.

Your scheduled amount of time is up, you're drunk and not only that; Todomatsu was just called to help his twin with a returning party. Since you didn't spend a competing amount to keep Todomatsu in your company bye-bye he goes!

Todomatsu hics and giggles loudly as you try to stumble out of the seat to finally leave.

You call Chiyo to pick you up since even though she's quiet, she's a good driver. Plus she only lived two train stops away.

When Chiyo comes to get you, inevitably gush about Todomatsu until she tells you, “Watch out for him. He's a snake, and pay attention to how he acts when you have no money.”

This causes you to quiet down and drunkenly reflect on her warning.

In that moment you decide to disregard it, because as Karamatsu said the first time you all met, “The gears of fate are turning in our love's favor.” You know this will work out!

[mae-gi-writes]

Awkwardly In Love | Mingi (ATEEZ)

Volleyball player! Mingi can’t seem to take his eyes off the girl on the bleachers whose got her nose stuck in her book.

Genre: FLUFF AND CUTE AWKWARD MINGI SBGKJDGJ I CAN’T HE RUINS ME. 

Word count: you just gotta know that it iz quite a long ride. I apologize for that.

----

She's always got her nose buried in her book.

That's what catches Mingi's attention at first.

See, he's not one to read. Nor does he have any interest in reading and books and the things that come with it. Growing up in a household full of children involved in physical sport, books had counted for nothing but a minimal afterthought. That, and the fact that their financial struggles made it so that they didn't spend on books if it could be helped.

So seeing her always carrying around piles and piles of books has Mingi wonder how much extra cash does she have to spend on all this imaginary stories.

When he realizes that the reason she's always on the same spot on the bleachers is due to her cousin being in the same volleyball team as he is, he can't help but start asking questions.

"Yeah she's my mother's sister's daughter," Hongjoong says with a small affectionate smile, "we basically grew up in the same household so she waits for me after classes."

"You guys close then?" Mingi asks in a forced nonchalant tone. He keeps his eyes on the ball being served on the other side, palms already closed and upturned at the ready.

"Ready?" His teammate calls.

"Yeah!" They both holler.

He serves. The ball swoops in a beautiful arc and Mingi steels himself before receiving the ball with trained precision.

Pack!

"Closer than siblings," Hongjoong answers as the ball flies over the net, "why do you ask?"

Mingi is about to answer when he spots the ball. Hongjoong sweeps in, steering his legs to tap the ball high in the air.

Tap!

Mingi's head swivels up, catches the ball to throw it back at Hongjoong.

Pack!

"In!" The referree calls to signal that they've marked the final point to the game. The pair allow sighs to leave their lips as they slowly make their way out of the court.

"Uhm," Mingi's chest heaves up and down with effort. Sweat dots his forehead as he racks for an excuse, "just curious I guess."

"Want me to introduce you?"

"Uh-- I--That's not--necessary--"

It's too late though, for Hongjoong is already calling out her name, "Y/N!"

Her head lifts from where it's been buried in her book.

Her cousin motions for her to come forward and no sooner is she stepping down from the bleachers that Mingi's neck flushes bright red, and he knows deep down it's not from the fact that he's just exercised.

"Y/N, meet Mingi my teammate," Hongjoong's grin is definitely one that is suggestive, which does nothing for Mingi's confidence.

"Hi," she sends him a warm smile, extending a hand. Mingi shakes it and can't help but notice how tiny her fingers are in comparison.

Delicate fingers, so breakable. Cute.

"H-Hi, I'm Mingi," Oh god, he hopes he doesn't sound like an idiot.

"Mingi's always been on the team. He's the ace after all," adds Hongjoong.

"Ah, that's cool," Y/N nods.

That's how it starts really. At every practice, Mingi makes it a must to talk to her, even if it's juet a tiny greeting, or a slight wave of his shy hand whenever he's already on the court when she stumbles in with her pile of books tucked under her arm. There's just something about her, something that pulls him in like an invisible string even though he can barely make his way through one sentence when he's gazing straight into her eyes.

Once, he musters up the courage to ask her about the book in her lap and the amount of joy flushing up her cheeks makes it so palpable that he feels giddy from her own excitement.

"I'm currently reading Peony in Love," holding up the book so he can see, she continues, "it's a historical novel about this Chinese girl that falls in love with someone who isn't her betrothed, then dies only to realize that this someone is actually her betrothed."

"That's actually really heartbreaking."

"Yeah well, so are most romance stories," she shrugs, "like the titanic."

"I've never actually watched it."

"What?! You're kidding me?"

He shakes his head, ducking his head in embarrassment as he wonders whether she thinks of him as a loser because of his apparent lack of intellectual knowledge.

But instead, he is faced with her enthusiasm, "we should watch it someday! It's like a classic, you'll love it if you like dramatic endings."

"You--" he feels his chest tighten in excitement, "you're serious?"

"Of course I am! I'll let Hongjoong know."

His heart does drop a little at Y/N's cousin's name. He'd hoped that they'd be alone, just the two of them.

Nevertheless, he makes his way over to Hongjoong's flat on the said night and is surprised to find not just the pair of cousins But an entire group of familiar individuals that he's seen hanging around the corridors and classrooms.

"Hey you came!" Hongjoong claps Mingi's back as he steps into the doorway, "I invited some of my close friends too. You probably know them."

As Mingi greets the rest of the group whe exchanging soft pleasantries, he finally catches sight of Y/N's figure darting between tall frames before she emerges, grinning, "hi, Mingi right?"

He can't help but blush right down to his toes, "h-hey, what's up?"

"Sorry for all the noise. The guys just wanted to crash here. Told them we were watching titanic and they promised they wouldn't make running commentaries."

"It's alright. I know them all a little. We're in the same class."

"Ah cool. You guys all in the same major then?"

Mingi scratches the back of his head, "nah I'm in Psych. But since they're all in the sciences like Hongjoong we do have same classes."

"Cool. I wish I could've taken Psych," she puffs up her cheeks into a pout and Mingi's fingers itch to pinch her cheeks.

She can't be that cute. She just can't be.

"So are we starting the movie or what?!" One of the guys --his name is Yunho, Mingi guesses -- calls out.

"The way you're talking Yunho, it's almost like you're the one who really wants to watch it," Hongjoong replies sassily while throwing both arms around Y/N and Mingi respectively before guiding them to the tv room. He dips his head towards Mingi's ear as the group settles in, "don't worry bro, I'll make sure you sit next to her."

Blushing furiously at the older boy's comment, the latter doesn't even have time to defend himself when he is being pushed onto the couch right next to Y/N's figure.

"You a big tears kind of guy?" The girl murmured, popcorn in lap. She extends it out to Mingi, who shyly grabs a handful.

"I guess it depends," Mingi murmurs, "are there animals in there?"

"Oh so you're that kind of guy."

He flushes. What kind of guy is she referring to?

The movie starts with the narration of an old lady gazing at a sapphire necklace, bedore the screen gives way to a shot of the ship itself in all its splendour, glistening a bold black and white in the midday sun.

Mingi knows he should be concentrating on the movie. And it's true, he really should, especially when Y/N had asked him to because it is clearly a classic he can't possibly miss out on. But alas, his eyes keep dashing back and forth between the screen and Y/N's face, stealing looks whenever she is not looking. It's almost like a magnetic pull tugging his gaze back to her no matter how hard he forces his eyes away; flitting over her eyes focused in attention, eyebrows furrowed at the middle with her mouth hanging open like a child amazed with naked wonder.

What can she possibly be thinking? What is going on inside that imaginative mind of hers?

What magical dimension is she traveling to without his knowledge?

It's only when the romance between the two protagonists start blossoming that he finally tears his eyes away to focus on the movie itself, all the while sensing Y/N's heat permeating from her body to his in a way that causes a permanent flush in the back of his neck.

The movie ends all too soon, with tears in Y/N's eyes and some of the other guys as they debate over the ending and how stupid Rose was for not giving Jack some space on the wooden board.

"Well to be fair, he would've probably sunk the entire board," Seonghwa argues. He's the pretty boy that everyone knows of, the one whom every girl has been crushing on since his admittance to their college.

"If I were Rose, I wouldn't want to keep living without the love of my life," Y/N points out, "I would've drowned myself with him."

"Jesus Y/N, that's terrifying," Hongjoong says.

"It's true though!"

The look in her eyes whenever she spoke of movies was a look of naked excitement. Like now, Mingi spots the familiar fire burning through her gaze, a gaze he finds alluring on her. It's like it breathes life into her face. It's similar to the one she wears whenever she's reading.

A few days later on campus, he bumps into her hurrying out of the library as he walks in, almost sending her flying before his arm snatches out to hold her shoulder.

"Sorry," he says hastily while putting her back on her feet and releasing her like she's just burnt him.

"S'okay," Y/N sends him a reassuring smile, "where you going?"

"Assignments. I'm late on my research paper because of practice," Mingi scratches his head. He nods towards her books, "what caught your interest this week?"

"Oh I'm just re-reading A Darker Shade of Magic," she grins like a little child being caught. Something in Mingi's heart softens like butter.

"What's it about?"

"It's so cool, it's like this guy with a super cool coat that has hundreds over coats inside it. And he's a magician and there are parallel worlds that have different wavelengths of magic. So he can travel through the different worlds and--" she stops abruptly then before her cheeks colour in shades of pink, "sorry. I'm rambling again--"

"No no no," Mingi cuts her off, causing her to blink, wide-eyed, "please...continue. I--I like it when you talk about your books. You--You always seem so alive and excited."

"Oh," her face flushes even more as another troop of butterflies tickle Mingi's stomach. She's so damn cute! "Thanks...Mingi."

He tries to analyze the flickering expressions on her face, though he guesses it is close to feeling embarrassed.

"A--Anyway I--I'll get going," Mingi hurriedly says, moving past her with flaming red ears upon realizing what he has just said, only to feel her hand clamp down on his.

He turns to see her, averted gaze and all, little fingers clamped onto his shirt, "do you--do you want to...go see a movie sometime?"

----------

Hongjoong had threatened Mingi with a multitude of ways of killing him in case he broke Y/N's heart, albeit the fact that the taller man stated that no, they weren't going on a date,.and anyway flirting had never been Mingi's strongest points anyway.

"Sure. If it's not a date, what is it then?" Hongjoong had asked with a roll of his eyes.

"It's just two people hanging out," Mingi had protested through red ears and scarlet tinged cheeks.

As per the said man's suggestion, the pair decides to meet up at the cinema entrance to choose the movie of their choice. Y/N is decked in a simple white t-shirt, loose cut-off jeans with red sneakers, and as Mingi silently admires her sense of simple fashion the heat that rises through the back of his neck is enough to make him avert his gaze bashfully.

They settle on a romantic comedy and he volunteers to buy the popcorn so that she can find some decent seats. As he settles into the cinema room and the lights dim into darkness, he places the popcorn box into her hands, waving her off upon her rising protests.

"But you--"

"I'll share it with you, don't-- don't worry," he replies, hand scratching the back of his neck.

Don't sweat it, he says to himself. It's fine. It's not a date. It's just two friends enjoying each other's presence.

Halfway through the movie, Mingi reaches for the popcorn only for their hands to collide. He retracts it like he just burnt himself, causing the said girl to chuckle softly. She reaches over then, with a handful of popcorn, before plopping it straight into his mouth without warning.

Mingi blinks. Heat goes straight to his ears.

When his eyes find hers, she only graces him with a timid smile, before returning back to the movie, totally unaware that his heart is now practically galloping out of his chest.

Jesus, what she does to his heart.

Mingi has never been so whipped in his life, but right now, he's pretty certain that he doesn't mind if that means she can accept his heart.

"Well that was fun," Y/N says the moment they step out of the cinema hall, "wasn't expecting it to be so lovey dovey though."

His head ducks, "I'm sorry," he mutters, "I didn't know you weren't into--"

"Oh no no! Not at all! We both chose it. You have nothing to feel bad about!"

"I'm not that into movies," comes his mumble.

"What?" Y/N stops in the middle of the road as she blinks up at him in shock, "you should've told me!"

"I wasn't interested in seeing the movie, I just wanted to see--" he hesitates slightly, "you."

What the fuck Mingi, he feels like choking himself foe his stupidity. Why was he acting like a total turd? This was ridiculous! She's just a girl, a cute one sure, but still! It's almost like he's lost all ability to make conversation.

He tries once more, "I'm--I'm sorry I shouldn't have--“

“No, I“m the one who's sorry. Here, let me treat you. Ice cream?” and then, her eyes widen, "you do like ice cream right?"

That'a enough for his lips to tilt up into a smile, "I'd love ice cream."

---

Once they settle on a bench at the nearby park, it seems like all nervousness suddenly ease from Mingi's consciousness and slowly, he starts opening up to the said girl as they lick at their ice cream cones. The sun sets over the horizon, turning the blue sky in scarlet hues that reminds him of summer days that last forever.

"Architecture's tough but honestly, that was the only thing my parents would let me study," Y/N says, empty ice-cream stick in hand as her gaze sweeps over the park and its passerbys.

"I guess it makes sense, considering our economy recently," Mingi agrees.

"And you? Why Psych?"

He lifts his shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, "I guess I just like analyzing people. It's intriguing, knowing how people think, how they act around others."

"You want to be a therapist?"

"I don't know if I'm strong enough to help people get out of their problems when I can't even help myself."

He feels her eyes on him and finds interest in the way the wind blows across the grass blades.

Her voice is soft when she says, "you don't have to be that kind of hero, if you don't want to."

His heart swells with warmth and sudden affection, though he says nothing but nods in agreement.

It's easily past ten when they trudge back to Y/N's house, with nervousness swimming through Mingi's stomach in apprehension to Hongjoong's earlier threats, though Y/N reassures him that Hongjoong is mostly all talk and no action. That reassures the tall man slightly, until his feet start bristling upon spotting her front porch.

"Thanks for keeping me company today," Y/N tilts her head up, her profile bathed in the backlight of her house, "next time, let's not go to the movies."

Mingi's heart skips, "I didn't mind it."

"I know, but I want to do things that you like too," she grins.

A surge of courage rises through his chest as he tells her that he'd like that a lot too.

Except the thing that falls out of his mouth instead is, "I like you too."

She blinks.

He blinks back, realization settling in like a dull ache in his stomach.

Horror sweeps through him. Oh no.

It hadn't been in his plan to expose himself like this, exposing himself like a dog who wants a tummy rub, but then again there's no sign of rejection that flickers across Y/N's face, which he takes as a good sign as he fumbles for the right words, "uhm, I-- I mean, I didn't mean--"

"You didn't mean that?"

"What?" His eyes widen, "no no! Of course I mean it, I just--"

He gasps at his own words, cupping a hand over his mouth as the girl before him explodes into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

"Oh my gosh," her eyes crinkle up into those adorable crescents of hers, "you're so cute."

Scarlet pink blossoms across his cheeks. Averting his eyes, he wishes that the floor can just come and swallow him up right there and then.

"Right," clearing his throat, one hand reaches up to scratch his ear, "well, I-I'll just go--"

He's halfway turning around when Y/N's hand trickles through his, as gentle as water flowing through his fingertips.

"Wait," she murmurs.

His breath stalls. Inhaling a soft breath, he slowly shuffles back, not daring to meet her gaze when he feels like he's just put his heart on the table for her to do with as she pleases.

Her voice is a gentle breath of a whisper, "don't go."

And then, she's up on her tippy toes and pressing a light kiss to his cheek. Mingi's skin practically lights on fire as another round of butterflies erupt in his chest at her touch, and he can't help but stare down at her, jaw slack, as she gives him the shyest smile he's ever seen.

Cute! His mind screams. Cute cute cute!

"So," Mingi's mind comes back into focus upon hearing her voice, eyes finding her biting down onto her lower lip, “Well, uh--I guess--I guess this means I--I like you, or something.”

"uhm,” his ears are so hot with heat he feels they might fall off as he forces himself not to gawk at her, though it’s proving to be quite difficult as he’s trying to muster the courage to come out with a reasonable answer. 

“I--well, uh--how does this--I don't know--do you want to...uh possibly,” he swallows thickly, before exhaling the words in a rush,”...goouttodinnerwithme?"

Y/N blinks in confusion, "I'm sorry?"

Come on, Mingi! He thinks to himself in growing desperation. Don't be such a wimp!

"Do you... want to...go out with me? S--Sometime?" His throat is clogged with so much embarrassment he fear he might choke.

But when he feels soft fingers trace his chin, he looks up, right into her dark brown eyes sparkling with a tinge of playfulness, excitement and naked joy brimming at the corners.

"I'd love that," she whispers.

And she lifts herself up once more to land a kiss on his mouth, softly, shyly, a mere brushing her mouth against his.

Mingi stumbles upon impact, hands unconsciously grasping her waist as his back comes in contact with the railing lining her porch.

His eyes are wide when she pulls away, biting her lower lip like she can't help but feel nervous from this bold action that has taken him by surprise.

"What--" Mingi chokes on his words, lapses into silence while staring down at her.

The girl merely glances down. A blush taints her cheeks and even though his fingers are shaking and he feels like his heart is about to jump out of his chest at the mere prospect of their closeness, his body moves before his brain does.

Closing the gap between them, it's his turn to press a kiss now, a chaste one that tells her that he reciprocates these feelings wholeheartedly. And Y/N responds by wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him closer so that their chests touch, mouths moving slowly in harmony as they chase each other and mold together in a way that leaves Mingi breathless and his heart stuttering like he's just won a race.

If it is, then it's the most importance race of his life.

It is only when they pull apart, breathing into each other with barely millimetres separating their mouths, that he can't help but laugh at the realization that this girl in his arms is his.

"What?" She says while smiling up at him. So gorgeous, so breathtaking. And she's his.

"Nothing," he can sense the heat flooding his cheeks once more, "I just-- I'm just...happy."

And there it is, that same smile that he loves so much. The smile that holds magical words and countless secrets to the amazing mind she beholds. He can't want to delve into her thoughts and pick at her brain, knowing that all of them are going to be precious memories he'll hold dear to his heart.

That smile.

Hongjoong's voice suddenly erupts out of nowhere like a nightmare, "don't think I didn't see you guys kissing out there!"

---

I’m so whipped for Mingi and he’s like 2 years younger so I feel like such an old noona *sighs*. 

Anyway, let me know if you’d like more Ateez content! <3 Stay safe guys, and thanks for reading!