#also very free interpretation of the prompt :P

[nejiweek]

NEJI WEEK RULES

Hello!! Thank you very much for taking a look at this event! Here are a few basic rules for the event (These are subject to change at any time):

Please be respectful to your fellow Naruto fans! This is meant to be a fun and casual event for us to celebrate Neji!

Please create new work for this event!

Writing, art, gif sets, playlists, etc. are welcome to participate!

Using AI to create pieces for this event WILL NOT BE TOLERATED. If it is discovered that AI is used in any way for any piece, the creator will be BLOCKED AND BANNED from participating in any future events.

Please interpret the prompts however you'd like!

When posting your work for the event, please use the hashtag #NejiWeek2024 and/or tag the Tumblr page! @nejiweek

Content containing problematic content/ships (i*ncest, p*edo, etc.) WILL NOT BE TOLERATED. If it is discovered those themes are in any content made for this event, the creator will be BLOCKED AND BANNED from participating in any future events.

Please keep all works at nothing higher than a PG13/T for Teen rating. (The anime and manga are typically rated 13+, so consider using that as a baseline)

Late submissions WILL BE ACCEPTED!!! Simply use the same tag and/or tag the blog! If your work is not reblogged in a few days, please feel free to send a message (Sometimes Tumblr messes up and doesn't show tagged posts)!

You do not have to do every prompt or day. If you are able to create work for every prompt or day, wonderful! But please do not feel obligated to do every single one. This is meant to be fun and casual!

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Please refrain from character bashing. This applies to Neji and any other characters. This is meant to be a fun and positive experience after all! (This does not mean there cannot be conflict between characters.)

HAVE FUN!!!

[harvardhaugland]

stubborn kiss - jamie ♡

a/n: originally an oc fic ive repurposed into a reader insert cuz why not! i really do want to bring this account back so just a quick cut n dry non-proofread fic. :) feel free to send me requests/prompts, im also open to do nsfw drabbles now! especially for sf6 because its what i currently like. :P

this is my very different outlandish interpretation of how jamie shouldve reacted to the bao bro sticker grrrr side note.. u r jamie’s first kiss in this :3

Jamie is always mean to you. Of course he never means it, at least you don’t think he does— but for the most part, he treats you like.. a stray dog that just keeps coming back for more treats.

You’re determined, incessant, often headstrong. You reflect Luke’s fighting style— and personality, even. It’s jarring for him to see you.

But he can’t keep his mind off of you either. When you’re back at it again, climbing up to the rooftop, out of breath, he’ll notice more wounds on you. New ones that he’ll take note of. Small bruises, cuts, or scrapes from previous battles. From roughing up all those box-headed ruffians in the slums of Hong Hu Lu.

Jamie likes to check out every inch of your body that way, eyeing your curves, or the shape of your face— sometimes even small insignificant things, like the wrinkles on your face when you smile after every new move he teaches you.

��Here you are again.” Jamie rolls his eyes. He looks expectant of you, waiting for those same questions about his drunken fists to pop up again— but instead, you extend your hand out to reveal a vinyl sticker of the iconic Bao Bro mascot. It’s a niche gift, and to think you’d ever give him a gift of all things? He starts to feel a little flustered at the act. There’s an obvious flush on his face that doesn’t seem to be caused from drinking for once.

“You’re so..” he clears his throat, “Ridiculous.”

“You don’t like it?” you look confused, a genuine expression of sadness threatens to curve on the corners of your lips, “I mean, if you tell me what you like I could buy something different next time..!” you offer, “I dunno about now though, I’m short on zenny—“ you show a look of embarrassment. Weaving through your wallet for any sort of coins left, to no avail.

“Okay! Okay, I get it! Sheesh.” he bites the tip of his thumb, looking away from you with a certain thought on his mind. Jamie’s face grows redder by the minute and it’s obvious he’s thinking of what to say to you.

“You’re just.. too sweet. Damn you.” he says. It makes him feel awkward. You make him feel awkward! God, he was doomed, “You’re making me feel like I should start buying you gifts now.”

“What? No. You don’t have to do that. You’re already working to train me, isn’t that enough?” you’re a bit puzzled by him. It felt like Jamie was holding back some sort of unbridled rage or new insult to hurl at you with the way he seemed so taken aback by a sticker.

“It doesn’t even warrant you to be spending money on me.” he tried to reason, but you’re very insistent on it all. Jamie knows you’re just about as stubborn as a bull. So he takes a deep breath, looking you in the eye, stern, “Seriously. Bro. What the hell should I do for you to return the favor? Don’t say something dumb like— “training me” either, alright?”

You’re feeling put on the spot right now. Jamie’s seriousness is pressuring you, he leans forward with his hands on his hips, lazily resting his hip on one leg.

You have to work yourself up to say this. It’s a crazy, impulsive and solely self-indulgent request and it’s the only one you could think of.

“..A little kiss?” you ask, you’re voice grows quiet, coy in stance.

Jamie is hesitant. His face only a mere inches away from yours, it’s all a staring contest until he suddenly grips his hands to both sides of your face, squeezing your cheeks so hard it forces your lips to pucker. Slowly, he leans in for an awkward kiss. Firmly planting his face against yours.

It’s uncomfortable and Jamie is seemingly inexperienced with the way he has his eyes squeezed painfully shut— sweat running down his forehead with the tips of your noses mashed together, making this whole thing seem comical when it shouldn’t.

He’s unsure of when to let go of you until the deafening silence starts to get to him and you hold his shoulders. He’s quick to pull away from the “kiss”.

Jamie crosses his arms and looks away from you, you’re a bit shocked for the moment, almost just as flustered as he is— stuck to the fact that he did it with very little hesitation, considering how he usually treats you.

“There.” Jamie pouts, “You got your kiss. Happy? Now, uh, you can stop.. wastin’ your money on me.” the same awkward flush of embarrassment he had before stays even after.

“Thank you.. teacher!” you exclaim, flapping your hands excitedly, bouncing up slightly, you’re giddy. Geeking out as if you’re a fan of a celebrity— Jamie just wishes you would leave him alone now. His unconscious crush on you continuing to egg on as he feels almost accomplished for kissing you, you seemed not to complain about it either.

He adores you, he would never tell you that straight-up. He’ll deny it as much as he can— but he has a genuine soft spot for you.

[sighs-deeply-and-dreadfully]

Hello! I don't know how this works, but anyways, I wanna make a request n.n

Can you do any character you like X neighbor who's sensitive to loud sounds?

If you don't want to feel free to ignore xD Thanks!

No worries at all, thanks for requesting!! <3 /p

I’ll just do this with Wally since I’m itching to write for him rn :] if you’d like to see a specific character later on feel free to re-ask!! /nf

Catastrophic Cacophony

Wally x GN!Reader Who’s Sensitive to Loud Sounds!

Headcanon format (.. Drabble length. I am a fool.. /lhj) , relation can be interpreted by reader!

As long as you could remember, loud noises got to you. Whether they startled you, or however you reacted, they got to you. It’s just how you were, which is perfectly okay! But to say it didn’t pose an issue sometimes would be.. difficult.

From a particularly loud laugh from a friend, or a screechy microphone at an assembly, to concerts, to movie theatres— loud was everywhere. It could be mediated with headphones, of course, but it was still everywhere. So when you moved into the quaint, sleepy neighbourhood? It was quite relieving!

Sure, the denizens would sometimes get a bit rowdy and loud— but they all seemed to understand if you withdrew, or needed a break— which was very relieving! Besides, they weren’t too loud— nothing going inside your quaint little home couldn’t remedy!

Today was one of those days. The sounds had piled up, and it somewhat felt like everything kept getting louder. Sure, you could maybe brush off the occasional screech— even if it rustled your jimmies a bit (/j), but today? Far too much, far too fast.. So off you took! Bidding the others farewell, you’d take off— taking to idly strolling around the town, today!

As you took a moment to breathe in the newfound silence, settling on one of the rickety, brightly coloured benches of the town— you’d soon hear a small creak from its backrest. This was soon followed by a familiar voice, slow and quiet.

“Helloo.”

It was none other than Wally. His impeccably quiet walking had gotten the better of your senses today— ignoring the fact you.. weren’t actually too sure where he showed up from!

Peeking up, you’d give a brief smile and a hushed greeting before looking away from his unwavering gaze. Slightly intimidating, but by now you knew he meant no harm!

“Do you mind.. if I join you, neighbour?”

You glance over again, immediately meeting his gaze again, and give a small nod. Soon, he’d settle on the bench beside you.

Over time, you had noticed that he seemed to notice your issues— though it wasn’t like you tried to really hide them all too much, anyhow. You noticed as, when he was alone with you, he seemed to make an extra effort to not be loud— which wasn’t too hard for the puppet, anyhow, but I digress.

His voice wouldn’t raise much further beyond his normal talking voice, and his tone would stay steady— never skipping up too high. He wasn’t really sure if pitch got to you, too, but better safe than sorry! Not like he minded to speak somewhat flatly, anyhow— it was already how he spoke, to an extent!

Seemingly, though, he had just followed you out here for your company. He didn’t mind comfortable silence, and he surely hoped you didn’t, too.

Even if that silence was.. a smiiidge less comfortable due to the fact, unless he got momentarily distracted, he was just.. kinda staring at you, idly. Why, he’s an artist, he can’t help but to observe (/j)!

But, with that, you two would just.. sit. Maybe you’d chat a bit, when you had calmed down— he’d let you lead when that conversation would start. But until then? He was perfectly happy to sit in silence with you. Especially on such a nice day!

Hihi!! So sorry if that wasn’t great <:] I wasn’t too sure what to do with the prompt— but I hope the way I took it was satisfactory either way!! Thank you again for requesting!!

I also kinda,, maybe a smidge based this off of my own sensitive hearing HAHA — but I’m hoping I didn’t make it too specific! Tried to make it able to apply to a majority :]

… if you saw me post this early on accident because my finger slipped; nuh uh, no you didn’t /lhj HAHA

[aceofshitposts]

for prompts— jaytim + snowed in?

thank you for enabling me to do a thing i've been thinking of doing :p stray tim + red hood jason also... a loose interpretation of "snowed in" lmao

-

The thing nobody ever seems capable of accounting for when the winter chill begins settling over Gotham is that Mr Freeze will, inevitably, freeze some part of Gotham solid.

Unfortunately for Jason, he's happened to have pissed off good ol' Victor this time around.

Even more unfortunate: Jason is currently trapped inside a warehouse office with a very cold, pissed off cat.

It's Stray's first winter in Gotham, as far as Jason knows, which means he was massively unprepared to be caught in the middle of a feud between Red Hood and Mr Freeze.

"You can't just give him what he wants?" Stray asks through chattering teeth, hands tucked into his armpits.

"Nope," Jason replies deliberately popping the p. Technically speaking, Victor has all the help he needs in Arkham with his research being funding by a "Mysterious Benefactor." It's one of the few things Jason will agree with Bruce on, it's just around the holidays Victor always seems to get a shade desperate.

"Great," Stray declares, plopping himself on the floor, wisely staying away from the walls. "If I freeze to death here I'm going to haunt you."

Jason is also feeling the chill but he's been through this before (and even in scaley green underwear) so without a second though Jason shucks his leather jacket and drapes it over Stray's shivering shoulders.

"There, now you can't say I've never done you any favours."

Stray looks startled for just a moment before recovering, pulling the jacket tighter around him. "And they say chivalry is dead. Or are you expecting me to give you the Black Mask intel for free? Because it's going to take a lot more than your old jacket to warm me up enough for that."

Even through violent shivers and chattering teeth Stray manages to send Jason a look that's downright lecherous. Jason knows better than to take that to mean he's forgiven for getting Stray trapped in this mess in the first place but it's something.

"This isn't what I meant," Stray says ten minutes later, although he makes no effort to move. Jason has Stray in his lap, back pressed against his chest and Jason's jacket zipped around both of them, the poor thing stretched to its limits.

"But are you warm?"

Stray grumbles but doesn't answer, instead shimmying himself into what he must think is a more comfortable position and settling there.

[schtroumpf-a-lunettes]

@schtroumpfalunettes was there something specific that prompted you to make this?? XD I got notified/tagged in the post haha.

Like did someone mix us up again or something? :P the irony that I had this username first LOL

"Usually make sense" shdsjhdshjsdh

More discussion under readmore; I decided to make this post a jumping-off point to talk about a few things. XD (It got long. as usual :P)

RE: some of the stuff here, something interesting that I find worthwhile to bring up - and which I've been thinking about - is...

Okay, so for example, there was this one post by someone from a while back where he kinda said something like "what I don't think a lot of people realise about fandom is that you can just have fun with it and do whatever you want, there are no rules, you don't have to stick to what's 'canon' or whatever" (this is all paraphrased from memory) and I found it really fascinating because like, yes, absolutely anyone can, and is free to do that if they want to! At the end of the day, fandom is about having fun, being a Fan, enjoying yourself, etc etc

but what I found specifically intriguing about the phrasing is that it seemed to imply that everyone would want to do this, if only they knew they had "permission" to do it (and I could be entirely wrong on that front, but that was my personal takeaway/impression regarding that post's underlying implications). And as someone who is, as this chart itself states, is "known for actually sticking to canon facts", I could only read that post in bewilderment thinking "well, yes, I am fully aware I have the freedom to do that if I want to... it's just not really what I'm here for. It's not what I want for me and my personal fandom experience; it's not particularly fun for me in the same way that focusing on what is and isn't "canon" is fun for me. Pedantry about canon is my area of fun (lol)."

It comes back to that whole thing about curative vs transformative fandom - both types are completely valid ways of engagement; the point is to have fun, and different things/types of focus is gonna be fun for different people; me trending towards curative fandom doesn't make other people's transformative fandom any less valid and worthwhile, and so on and so forth. (And like, I do engage in transformative fandom too, of course. I write fics, sometimes I do play around with the more transformative side of things, etc etc, it all depends on what's fun at a given time in a given fandom space, and so on and so forth, haha).

The way that my own focus might differ from other people has caused me to run into difficulty sometimes - especially when I find it hard to distinguish what type of fandom a person is engaging in (transformative or curative), or rather, what they are asserting - ("this is my personal 'twist' on canon" vs "I am making an objective assertion about the nature of canon itself".)

Of course, different competing interpretations of canon can and do exist, that can honestly be half the fun of it. Discussion, analysis, debate, these things can be very fun and interesting for me. It can just be really tough for me sometimes when someone goes "X about canon is the case" and I can't tell if they're saying "this is an Objective Assertion about canon which can therefore be debated back and forth, with different viewpoints that are able to be brought up and exchanged" or "I know this isn't canon, but I'm simply choosing to put my own personal spin on what's there."

Because I'm always down to discuss and debate about canon (like, it's fun and interesting for me! And you can learn new things or new perspectives by such forms of engagement) but I also don't want to come across as like, rude, or ruin other people's fun, because that's not my intent (fun is the point of fandom after all; it's a hobby). So like, I'm not going to go around shooting down anyone's harmless transformative fandom or whatever because that would be completely inappropriate; they're operating in a different sphere in their fandom approach.

I think the trouble comes in where an "objective" assertion does seem to be taking place, and I get confused, because it can still be pretty ambiguous for me, so it's like, am I even "allowed" to point out that this "doesn't seem to be true, per the rules of Canon" (i.e. a curative-fandom based discussion back and forth, where both parties can consider perspectives they may not have been aware of before, purely based off the rules of what we can see in canon), or are people just going to get hurt/offended/insulted if I try to do that?? (i.e. do they already Know it isn't canon?? do they not care either way, because they're engaging in transformative stuff??)

The way I see curative fandom is that it's entirely based on one's ability to argue their case using canon facts and context and what have you - it's about the persuasive nature of one's argument. But at the end of the day, nobody is an "authority" because it runs off the principle that canon is the only authority, and (if you're in curative fandom space) it's all about how closely you can adhere/align to the authority of the source text. Nobody has a monopoly over, or the ability to dictate, what canon is or should be - that's the beauty of it. Canon still remains independent, standing separate all on its own, regardless of how individuals interpret or perceive it.

Transformative fandom, in turn, can be rather possessive - which, again, can be fine, fandom is about fun, people are having fun, etc etc. But here's where my confusion re-enters the stage - I totally get the possessive side of things but sometimes the "grey area" seems to enter into the scene once more - and I can't tell if someone is engaging in transformative fandom in a lighthearted possessive way, OR if they really are making an assertion of authority (which, by definition, would be an act of invalidation of others, which one would think would kind of go against the spirit of fandom being a place for everyone to have fun and enjoy themselves).

I guess personally I can be rather "sensitive" to assertions of authority (or seeming assertions of objectivity that seems to contradict canon) if they appear to be serious, made in the realm of Curative Fandom, and wielded in a manner that would invalidate others, as opposed to something lighthearted and free-to-debate (because again, debate is fun for me).

And I guess that's not really "normal" of me(?), just like this lengthy reply of my thoughts likely isn't very "normal" by neurotypical standards hahaha, but this is just some stuff I've been mulling over and I wanted to put it out there - I have identified these areas that I can struggle over the ambiguity of sometimes, and I guess I saw this as an opportunity to try and write down my thoughts. And I honestly and earnestly trust that you would understand the seeming lack of neurotypical-ness of it all, too. Because, obsessive little fan that I am, I am very passionate and invested when it comes to this stuff. I am passionate and invested when it comes to canon.

One result of my approach to fandom that I've found in turn is that I can really tend to seem/be rather contrarian - that's because I like to examine new angles of things, so if something becomes really prominent/accepted in fanon, I'm often not really invested in upholding it - I love to ask "and what other possibilities are there?" because Canon, to me, is a fountain of possibilities, of sorts. I like to have fun exploring, because to settle on only one thing can feel unnecessarily limiting, but refusing to go along with a consensus may be liable to just get me interpreted as a fun-killer (and I've tried going along with (lighthearted) consensus before - and I regret it. Not only because it didn't align with my own prior perspective, but I found that by upholding a consensus, it seemed to render invisible other people's viewpoints, and I ultimately didn't want to contribute to that).

I can come across a bit forceful sometimes, and when that happens I find it's because I don't necessarily feel like my perspective is being adequately considered or understood. Plenty of this is On Me, it's just good for me to be aware of and be able to navigate this stuff, I guess. Fandom should be a playground that everyone can take part in.

Part of this was prompted by the "canon doesn't DISPROVE this" point on your chart(?) thing, because I think stuff that can fall under that category is a very wide spectrum, and thus can contribute to a lot of the confusion and sense of ambiguity I've discussed here. i.e. I don't necessarily know what you mean by that, hahaha. Is it about transformative fandom? Curative fandom? Both? Could be anything and everything in-between - and maybe that ambiguity is openly embraced/accepted and intentional on your end, and I'm just someone with an excessive need for clarity (just part of who I am, aha).

Anyway, I know we've touched on some of this stuff before in our previous interactions too. But yeah, I really do see a huge difference between "I am making an authoritative and objective claim" and "I know this is not canon, but I am engaging in transformative fandom" etc etc, and sometimes I cannot tell which of those is the underlying implication, and that can really hinder my understanding and communication. (Those two types itself is an oversimplification, as there can be soo many different shades - you can see that in, say, those tumblr posts of "different types of headcanon" and it lists like 5+ different types and whatnot.)

Sooorry for long post <3. I hope you don't mind! I'm just so rambly, you know, with that urge to elaborate, etc etc!

[homeless202]

No Home Prompts/Headcanons

[feel free to use these as inspiration for fanfics or fanart. tag me if you post it!!]

(disclaimer 1: this is prolly very ooc but it's also not supposed to be realistic. disclaimer 2: a lot of these are centered around Haejoon and Eunyung and can be interpreted as /r or /p)

HJ stopping someone from harassing EY, similar to the frying pan scene. [one concrete scenario i have is a teacher/supervisor wanting to cut EY's hair and HJ, who's standing next to him (i imagine all dorm boys lined up for the lights-out roll call), grabs the scissors out of their hand and throws it out the window. HJ: "you should go grab them if you don't want them to rust" so the supervisor goes away. badass HJ (altho he's too much of a model student to spite a teacher like that). EY is confused and in awe. bonus points if there's witnesses who marvel at HJ's badassery and authority defiance.]

all 6 MCs hanging out in the clubroom and HJ does sth cool or impressive (maybe sings out loud and it sounds good). juwan and minju are panicking bc 'holy shit he's so hot i want him carnally' like tearing up, rolling on the floor type craving. marie is watching them freak tf out, completely unimpressed, with an expression like she's on the office. hara is like 'hey man, that sounded really good' like the golden retriever sunshine puppy she is. EY is just staring very intently at him like trying to figure out a puzzle with a faint thought of 'he should join the theater club'. HJ, poor him, is so fucking confused as to why everyone is overreacting and a little embarrassed that he accidentally did that.

minju and juwan craving the 184cm mommy issues ghost guy be like:

^^ this is how i imagine juwan's internal monologue like 98% of the times he interacts with HJ. just constant gay panic.

all the other boys in their dorms who have to listen to HJ and EY's screaming matches all the time. poor fuckers. they all often choke on the tension those two create in the room they're in. but the fighting is basically like free live reality TV prime-time entertainment, so they can't be too bothered (unless they're trying to sleep). and generally, everyone is weirded out/confused by their friendship (?). like 'why is the nice popular pretty guy hanging out with model student bully who sees ghosts, especially when they're always just fighting?' <- #confusion. but it's entertaining so eh ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

HJ helping EY study, maybe forced by a teacher, or from EY's own volition (doubtful), or per juwan's suggestion when EY failed too many exams/classes to keep living in the dorms. i wonder how that tutoring session would go. would probably end bloody.

whenever HJ goes to the grocery store to buy food he also buys a pack of sweets or snacks. every time EY sees them in their room he asks if he can have some. HJ lets him open the pack. EY always asks if he wants some too and HJ almost always says no. after the 6th time this happened, EY confronted him abt it 'why are you buying these if you're not eating them?' and HJ is like 'i buy them for you. i know you like them.' EY is surprised and juwan is happy they're not fighting anymore (but also insanely jealous -> 'when did they get so close? grrrr')

(/r) HJ chilling on the couch in the dorm living-room, reading a book for class and EY comes and wants to lie down but there's no more space so he spreads out on the couch with his legs on HJ's lap, who's a bit like 'wtf' but decides against picking a fight. EY is chilling on his phone in a skirt shorts and with his hair undone. they just chill like that for a while and every poor soul who passes through that room are confused and uneasy abt their lack of fighting. at some point HJ notices the scars on EY's knees and rests his hand (the one not holding the book) on them, then goes back to reading while absent-mindedly rubbing his thumb over the scars. EY is startled and also like 'wtf' but let's it be bc he has crypto to mine.

juwan-marie mlm/wlw solidarity. all 3 boys are not surprised when she comes out as a (disater) lesbian but their reaction is 'oh really? i never would've guessed (/s)'. she comes out to them bc she needs help making hara figure out she likes her in an non-obvious way.

the boys' reaction be like:

marie likes hara, minju likes marie, and hara likes her sport (karate? idr). marie is frustrated at hara's cluelessness, minju is annoyed marie doesn't take her advances seriously, hara is oblivious to the turmoil she's caused. [a scenario i came up with is all 6 in the clubroom where minju just goes full out after shit's been building up for a while like ' why do you like hara and not me? i'm here trying my best and she doesn't even care! how is she so much better than me?' marie is beyond embarrassed and also very done with the bs. she pulls minju outside the clubroom and slaps her in the hallway promptly rejecting her. the other 4 saw everything through the door window and are jaw-dropped-flabbergasted. marie enters again after minju left and everyone asks if she's ok. hara's like 'you like me?' and marie says 'now's not the time for that. don't you have practice or sth?'. after a bit of convincing hara leaves for her lessons and the 3 boys ask marie why she doesn't like minju -> 'she doesn't like me, she just likes the chase. if we were to get together she'd get bored in less than a month and break up with me.' juwan agrees bc he knows minju best and that's something she would absolutely do. marie starts tearing up bc this is overwheming and embarrassing but the boys are there to comfort her. (<- what's even more frustrating in all of this is that marie did like minju in the beginning, before she swindled marie for the clubroom, was disingenuous abt their friendship, and friendzone marie when she told minju that she liked her.) ohh how the turn tables]

^^ this is the dynamic i imagine bc it's hella funny /// @ artist on twt

EY wil fight for kids who can't fight for themselves. if he sees a kid/friend get hit by a parent/authority he won't hesitate to throw hands. he'll step in on the spot and sucker-punch the mfer who put their hands on someone weaker than themselves. [the first time the others see this side of him is when they meet marie's brother, who acts like a massive asshole and stupidly smacks marie in front of them. HJ is ready to say sth/jump in but EY is half a second quicker and already gave the bitch a bloody nose. and he fights with the rage he'd fight his dad with, if he ever dared to do that. like a demon possessed, not anywhere near the way he's ever fought HJ before. marie's crying and begging him to stop hitting her brother, HJ and juwan are frozen in shock. juwan wants to try to calm him down but is too scared to approach him when he's like that. meanwhile HJ is just like 'holy shit, this mfer is actually crazy' and goes to pull EY off of marie's brother bc he got too close to killing him. after that everyone is more wary of him in general, marie is somewhat grateful but also terrified of him. from then on the brother either never hits her again or gathers a group of friends to go beat up a blond high school kid.]

i think it would be interesting to see the bullies who forced EY to crawl two stations to get his money back resurface. that group of bullies bumping into our 3 boys and going like 'whoa, EY? is that you? how're your knees doing?' and laughing. juwan is confused as to what they're talking about, HJ immediately knows who the fuckers are bc he knows the knee story, and EY is trying to ignore them with a poker face but really he's terrified inside bc trauma™. HJ has never seen EY so affected/blank/scared/distraught and is concerned. trouble ensues, bonus points if HJ saves the day (aka beats the fuckers up) and bonus bonus points if he doesn't tell EY abt it and does it in secret.

^^ no thought's behind those eyes. only misery and trauma

juwan and HJ gift EY clothes every time they have an excuse like 'oh you passed that exam? nice here is a new pair of jeans' or 'it's Christmas, this is a jacket for you'. bc my boy needs more than one piece of everything. he needs more clothes and his friends noticed and are now providing. they need to have an excuse/good reason to gift the items to EY bc he will not accept them otherwise (he refuses to be indebted to anyone).

whenever EY catches HJ changing clothes in their room, he feels really guilty when he sees the scar he gave him when they first met. every time, he wants to apologize but he doesn't know how to make it sound genuine, and the apology always catches in his throat anyway. he can't say it out loud, so he quickly makes it a habit to leave the room when HJ changes.

idk man, i just wanna see HJ help EY braid his hair. and EY be surprised by how well he can braid or make fun of him for how bad he is at it. [maybe a hand/arm injury that prevents him from braiding his hair himself and he doesn't want to leave the dorm looking like that before he can get to a girl-friend who could do his hair for him.]

EY goes with HJ to provide moral support when HJ has to go back to his old house to pick sth up or when HJ goes to visit his mom's grave (only 52% willingly). [(/r ->) at the house, HJ would definitely have a mental breakdown and EY would be there to unintentionally aggravate the situation, then mend it and comfort him. EY is also terrified of all the ghost items inside that house when he first enters. HJ is a tad happy to see some old faces (<- the ghosts who live/haunt his house). /// at the graveyard, HJ would try his best not to cry, EY would notice and leave him alone for a bit to mourn. when he's done, before they leave, EY looks intently at the mom's grave stone and nods his head once. maybe it's a salute to the mom, or a 'thank you for raising him well', but in any case, that's the first time we see EY use manners. HJ doesn't notice it bc he's busy with his own feelings.]

parallel to that, juwan and HJ come pick EY up from (aka get him out of) his parent's apartment. the parent's are astounded anyone came for their 'good-for-nothing' son. before the boys leave the apartment building's courtyard, EY's mom comes running up to them. HJ and juwan are in defense/protection mode, EY is just so tired and so done with everything he doesn't feel present anymore. the mom doesn't get any closer, she just looks HJ in the eyes and thanks him for looking out for her son. then she turns to EY and says 'don't fuck this up like everything else in your life' and goes back to the apartment. all of them are shocked by the unexpected good nature she's shown and EY is also a bit upset by her comment about his life but he's too tired to give a shit atm.

when EY finally gets back into acting, HJ helps him learn his lines when he has the time. after his first play, HJ is there to give him flowers and tell him how good his acting was. (/r -> this may or may not be the moment EY really (realizes he) caught feelings) also HJ was gen amazed at how good his acting skills are, like wide-eyed 'wow he's actually really really good'.

(/r) i want EY to wear a skirt as a dare or sth and fluster the shit out of HJ (and any other eyes that catch him in that outfit). EY would tease him for blushing so hard and feel powerful bc of the reaction he's got, until HJ grabs him (one hand on a shoulder and one hand on his waist) and pulls him so he can whisper in his ear 'stop that'. the tables turn. EY pushes away like he's been burned, which might be true, seeing how he got so red one would think he's been sunburned.

(/r) idk if it's canon but i for some reason think HJ has weights in their room. so, EY always stares at HJ from his top bunk bed (where HJ can't see him), whenever HJ's using them. specifically at his biceps. EY is unsure whether he's jealous bc he wants those muscles or if he wants those muscles. (if you catch my drift)

i feel like HJ and EY could bond a lot over music. they are often listening to it.

the apocalypse storyline is not talked about enough. someone needs to write this since wanan only gave us a crumb and disappeared.

i mean, look at this ^^. are you gonna stand there and tell me you're not intrigued?

[mimagines]

Kaito ( Vocaloid ) Fluff Alphabet!

"Fluff alphabet with KAITO? c:" - @ophidkane

Just some fluffy headcanons of my interpretation of Kaito! I don't know who made these prompts so if you do, let me know so I can credit!

Content Warnings: None

Kaito ( Vocaloid/Project Sekai )

Word Count: 925

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Kaito is a big fan of comfy dates, his love language is definitely physical touch and quality time, so things like walks or going to see a show.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Kaito admires kindness and sensibility, but also a good sense of humor ^^

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Scarf! Big scarf to wrap someone up in and offer a little protection blanket.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Honestly he’s not too concerned about the future, just  the here and now :))

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

I’d say he’s pretty passive, he kinda just lets his S/O drag him around, and he’s just there to smile and nod.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Yes, you could spill ice cream on his scarf and he’d probably forgive you. He’s not really big on fighting, he’s better off at de-escalating situations and being “the adult in the room”, so to speak.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Yes, very grateful. He gets his S/O small gifts from time to time to remind them of how much he appreciates them -o-

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

There’s not much TO hide, but if there was a secret that would hurt his S/O he’d probably try to keep it. 

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Kaito likes to experience and learn new things, so anything his partner introduces to him, he tries with a full heart :D

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

A little! He tries to keep it to himself as much as he can.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

He’s a quick learner, I’ll say that!

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

A way he would confess is getting a big bouquet of flowers with a little note, like with a little hand drawn heart. He’d stress so much about whether or not they’d like it. 

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Yes! Big marriage man! He’d do that thing several weeks before he actually proposes of doing fake out proposals to catch them off guard :D

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Sweetheart, honey, beautiful/handsome <3

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

He’s a big blusher but he often ( unsuccessfully ) tries to over his face whenever that happens, like covering his mouth while he’s laughing to avoid it being seen. 

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Yes, if he’s in love with someone, they are a frequent topic of conversation. He likes to hold their hand as well.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

As mentioned before, he can calm situations down very easily.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He’d write them little songs to make them smile :)

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Y e s .

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

I love Kaito but he can be a little boring sometimes, he’s usually content with whatever his partner is doing.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Yes, very. 

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

I think he puts being in a relationship pretty high on his priority list, with his performing job and his other friends/coworkers being a very close second!

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

When he’s performing, if he see’s his S/O he will be very obvious in his crowd interactions with them <3

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

I’d say he’s in the middle when it comes to affection! Big cuddler in private and in public he’s give little head kisses because he’s so tall.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

He would honestly make little gifts to give to them the next time he sees them, like little cards or tiny paper stars. 

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

I’d say that he’s willing to go pretty far from where he’s able, as mentioned prior, he values his partner very much :))

[pendulum-sonata]

Triad

Arc V Rare Pair Week - Day 1 (Applause) Pairing: Orchestrashipping (Yuya x Reiji x Yuzu)

“You know?” He heard Yuzu ask on his right out loud while he continued to figure out how to make a particularly complicated combo to work, but he still nodded as a sign that he was listening seeing as Yuya on his left looked like he was spacing out again, although considering the way his hand was placed on top of his stomach, and the slight drool on his lip they may have to cut the activity for now in order to get lunch. “I’ve thinking for a while now... why aren’t there any rules for three-way duels?”

That seemed to pull Yuya out of his reverie and he bolted up to look at Yuzu with a questioning look.

“We do have them though? That’s what Battle Royale modality is for.” He said with a slight pout.

“Yuya, I don’t mean that!” She countered almost immediately, from the corner of his eye Reiji saw how he saw how the fan was resting on her lap ready for any… misshapen.

“But we’ve had duels between three people in those!” he said scratching his head. “It’s the same rules, the one who manages to defeat the rest wins.”

“You mean people ganging up against some poor sap and then tearing each other down afterwards?” She was now grabbing the fan with her hands.

“Uh? Well is not like it’s against the rules!” He talked back, and now Reiji was sure that his hunger was not just making him distracted but more irritable too.

“That’s exactly what I mean, that’s not a three-way duel, that’s just like a… ‘eat or be eaten’ duel!” Yuzu almost growled, coupled with her temper this situation had every chance to become very unpleasant for all the people involved.

So, he coughed a little to catch their attention.

That alone seemed to go a long way to mellow them out as they both stopped and looked up at him with a smile, and at the sight he coughed once more, this time out of necessity than for garnering attention.

“If I may…” He said making a pause waiting for them to nod and continued: “…Perhaps what Yuzu is talking about is a duel were the three participants are all against all…”

“I repeat that this is how Battle Royale works.” He said, supporting himself on his hands, looking both bored and moody.

“…If you would let me finish, Yuya.” He said. “This one would have to device rules in order to avoid any ‘ganging up’ as Yuzu said and probably need a triple board of sorts in order not to mix up the magic and trap cards zones.”

Yuzu nodded a little too enthusiastically.

“Exactly and since there wouldn’t be any teaming up against one of the duelist, the turns would also need to be structured, probably clockwise and one player wouldn’t be allowed either to directly attack or make damage to more than one duelist in order to balance things out!”

“Right!” Yuya interceded, looking happier now. “And the Trap and Spell cards would work the same! Unless they are continuous or field cards!”

“I suppose that we could call rounds every time one of the duelist has already had their own turn as well.” Reiji said, his interest truly piqued by now, already trying to decide if this would be a good mechanic to introduce in a tournament, or perhaps beta-tested first inside online dueling communities.

Then there was the sound of a stomach growling, perhaps a little too loud.

“…Maybe we can talk more about this over some snacks?” Yuya asked, looked accordingly embarrassed.

“Nu-uh, you promised Yoko-san no more junk food for lunch.” Yuzu chided and both she and Reiji crossed looks, a smile coming to her when it looked like Yuya wanted to make a case for his precious snacks.

“Besides, the last two times you and I choose where to eat, it’s only fair that Reiji chooses this time around.”

“Oh! Right,” Yuya said looking a little subdued but then he looked at him all too serious. “You better eat something solid this time too, sometimes it feels like if no one reminded you, you could for days on end without eating.”

Just as Reiji was about to give his turn to either of them he noticed Yuzu’s pout and Yuya’s eager smile, which sight were making coming to a decision difficult… it would be foolish of him to try to please only one of the two of them with their excitable tempers as they were.

And considering everything worked for the better when they reached a common agreement, Reiji liked to think of himself as no fool after all,

“If you don’t mind Nakajima taking us in the car I believe I know the perfect place, where the three of us can choose something fitting to their taste.” He said adjusting his glasses, before any of them could say anything else, Yuya jumped on his feet from their sitting spot and placed a quick peck first on Yuzu’s cheek and then on his.

.

.

.

Then rather than waiting for an answer, Yuya scratched the back of his neck, his face looking the same shade as his hair and rushed to the entrance of Yushow Duel School. Leaving both him and Yuzu to look after him, her with both a blush and a sweat drop and he assumed he had a similar expression too.

“Thank you, I know when Yuya and I start to argue about silly stuff, we can be such a handful.” She said as they walked side by side following Yuya.

“It’s quite fine really, besides I believe he will be far more agreeable once he eats at his heart’s content.” He said feeling more at ease. “I actually applaud both of your ideas, I might be able to convince the board to make a run for it.”

As an answer she perked up and dedicated him a blinding smile which had him swallowing a slightly bit.

“Mmmh, yes, and then we can start working on the three-way duel stuff too.” She said still smiling but looking a little deep in thought. “I think we work better like that right?” But then, her blush became more pronounced when she stood up and offered her hand to help him up from the floor.

He was acutely aware on the tiny squeeze she gave him before letting go and hurrying the same way Yuya had.

With that same hand he brushed his cheek, in the same spot Yuya had deposited a kiss before and knew he would have to take deep breaths before Nakajima would ask if he was coming down with a fever.

And a part of him was not all too willing to disagree.

[javier-pena]

triumvirate

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Katie

Word Count: 13.7k (I know, I know ...)

Rating: Explicit (and I mean explicit, this is the most explicit thing I’ve ever written)

Summary: You and Javi have been talking about inviting someone into your bed, just to see what it would be like. But you had no idea he already has someone in mind.

Warnings: mentions of food and alcohol | some language | threesome (f/f/m) | thigh riding | fingering | oral (m and f receiving) | light choking | light dirty talk | unprotected (p in v) sex | praise kink if you squint | size kink if you squint | orgasm delay/denial | sub!Javi until he’s definitely not | multiple orgasms | creampie

Notes: This started as a brief conversation I had with Dani @javierpcna while making a gifset actually, and it turned into this huge fic involving a character that doesn’t even speak a single line of dialogue (yes, this is Katie, the woman from the elevator in s3e1, the one who looks at Javi ... respectfully). I actually don’t remember the last time I had this much fun writing anything, so I guess I will be writing more Javi fics in future ... also, as always, huge thanks to Dani for putting up with my crazy ideas for a week, for encouraging me, for sacrificing a Sunday evening to read this, and for kindling the flames that brought this on in the first place! Also I believe Javi doesn’t share but he can be a bit ooc - as a treat ...

***

Javi doesn’t like to talk about his work. He doesn’t like to “bring it home” with him, even though the word “home” is all relative to him. He keeps quiet about it when you’re at his flat, that’s sacred ground to him, but your flat is fine. So when he’s at your place, he sometimes talks about his colleagues, the paperwork he needs to finish, how his boss got on his nerves today. You know there is much he could tell you, a lot he doesn’t share on purpose, and some things he never mentions because he’s not proud of them.

At first, you are worried because he doesn’t let you in. You aren’t used to having someone in your life who keeps so much hidden from you, especially someone you slowly, over time, start to share everything with, from a cup of coffee over breakfast, over a cigarette during a hasty lunch break, to sighs and moans, joined hands and heartbeats under the cover of the night. Especially someone you slowly but surely find yourself falling in love with, someone you want to share your life with, but also someone who doesn’t seem to feel the same way, who keeps a part of himself hidden behind tailored suits and starched shirts. It makes you nervous and wary when he never answers your questions, it hurts you when he changes the subject, sometimes quite cruelly, but over time you begin to see this arrangement as something enjoyable.

In all your previous relationships, you’d mostly talked about work, discussed your day, asked boring questions to get boring answers from your partner. Maybe that is the reason why they never lasted – you were so preoccupied with involving each other in your professional lives that you never focused on the personal aspect of your relationships. But with Javi you’re forced to talk about something else, about anything else, books, movies, music, travels, that little dog you saw on the street today, how your mother is doing, the sock that has gotten lost in the dryer. And you love this about him, love how you’d gotten to know an entirely different version of him than most people know. Granted, he doesn’t watch a lot of movies and he doesn’t listen to a lot of music, he hardly ever has time to read, but he’s seen the world, he tells you stories you don’t bore of hearing repeatedly, while your fingers lay entwined on his broad chest, the warmth of his skin seeping into your body, his breath tickling your hand, while he talks, and you listen. Sometimes, on the rare occasion he cooks for you, he tells you about his childhood, about how his mother taught him to kill a chicken (“If you can eat it, you can kill it”), about how is father gave him his first beer to drink when he was eight (“It’ll make a man out of you”), about how his grandmother showed him which spices to use for what dish (“Never mix garlic and lemon juice, it’ll turn the garlic green”). It’s moments like these where you feel he trusts you. You don’t need him to give you a detailed rundown of his day, to tell you how badly his morning coffee tasted, how boring his meeting was, how much his colleagues annoyed him. Getting to know this personal side of him, the one you know he doesn’t usually share, that’s enough for you.

You trust him, and he trusts you.

His withdrawnness when it comes to his work is the reason you’re completely caught by surprise when you’re over at his place one cloudy Saturday afternoon for a late lunch and he mentions work. You’re the one cooking this time, a stew your grandmother taught you to make, and while you wait for it to finish simmering, you sit at his small kitchen table, lost in idle conversation. And no matter how idle those conversations get, talking to Javi is never boring, and that is one of the things you love about him. But when he does mention work – and nothing prompts it, no probing questions on your part about a torn shirt you find lying discarded on his couch, no need to share something with you out of weariness and frustration on his part – you are immediately snapping to attention. It’s infuriating how he does it, casually, while he fills a glass with tap water for you.

“There’s this girl at work,” he says, and your ears prick up at the word work, immediately on guard. He turns off the water but doesn’t turn to look at you when he continues. “I think … I think you would … like her.”

It’s so uncharacteristic of him to be this careful, almost flustered – is that a flush you see creeping up his neck? He’s usually very assured, he usually has no trouble making eye contact, he usually says what he needs to say with as little or as many words as he sees fit. So when he stammers and blushes like this, you can’t help but smile. You can guess, of course, what this is about. You’ve mentioned a few times that you miss your friends back home, that you sometimes feel lonely and wish you had more people to talk to. And he remembered, he listened to you and he remembered, which makes a warmth spread from your chest to your limbs, and the corners of your eyes crinkle with a soft smile.

“Is that so?” you ask teasingly.

He turns around and takes the two steps to close the distance between the sink and the table. You take the glass from him as soon as he stands in front of you.

“She’s … nice,” he tries to elaborate. He sits down next to you and takes your hand into his, his skin warm to the touch. His thumb brushes over your knuckles as he watches moisture gather on your glass. It is a hot day, and the windows of his small kitchen are open, allowing for the sounds of the city to drift in, to swirl around the two of you, to give you some background noise to the comfortable silence that sometimes settles between you. “She’s funny,” he continues finally. “Ambitious, too. Junior agent. You have a lot in common.”

That sounds more like the Javi you know; observant, good at reading people, good at making connections. He’s still not looking at you though; it feels like he’s asking you something big, something life-changing, not like he’s trying to help you find a friend.

“Yeah, she sounds nice,” you agree. You raise the glass with your free hand and take a sip of water. “I’d like to meet her.” And even if you shouldn’t get along, there is no harm done. But you feel like you will because Javi is very good at reading people and if he says that this woman is someone you would like to spend time with, you know you will.

“You would?” His head snaps up in surprise, and it makes you smile again. As if you could ever refuse him! And if he’d ask you to move to Antarctica with him, you wouldn’t hesitate. But you can understand his tentativeness because you haven’t technically told him that. Yes, Javi is easy to talk to, but not when it comes to feelings. Those conversations are reserved for the dead hours of the night, for when it feels like you two are the only people in the world, for when you both know you can open up to each other, be at your most vulnerable state without the other person taking advantage of it, of crushing it like a fallen leaf. And you haven’t had many of those conversations yet.

Still, your heart picks up speed at the thought of how he’s looking out for you, of how he met a woman at work and thought to himself that you maybe would like to be her friend, how he was nervous to bring it up because he thought he might have misread your needs. But if there is one thing Javi is brilliant at, the one thing no one else in your life has ever been able to do, it is reading your needs, interpreting them correctly, and then acting accordingly to them, doing everything he can to care for you and look out for you, sometimes even at the expense of his own needs. You wouldn’t be able to tell that about him by looking at him, by hearing how his acquaintances talk about him, but there is a soft side to this man, one you feel very protective of.

You nod with enthusiasm. “Sure, why not? If she’s as great as you say, then I don’t see why we wouldn’t be getting along.” You are very curious to meet this woman. He’s hardly given you any information about her, but still, she sparks your interest.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Good.” He also nods, but when he does it, there is an air of determination to it. It feels like you’ve just agreed to some big plan you don’t fully understand, not to having lunch with one of his colleagues. “Listen, there’s this work thing next Friday.” His voice gets lower with each word, so he pauses to clear his throat. “I think you should come along, meet everyone … officially. She’s also gonna be there, it’s a good opportunity …”

Now you can’t help but giggle. He squeezes your hand, and you squeeze back. “You’re very eager to introduce me to her, aren’t you?” you tease, but there is no malice in your words. You’re actually flattered he’s talking about introducing you to his colleagues, about bridging that divide between private and professional.

Your fondness for him gets lost in translation, and your words fall on different ears than they are intended for. “I’ve been telling everyone at work a lot about you –”

You cut him off with a firm kiss that elicits a low growl from his chest. “Javi, I’m already convinced, okay? No need to lie to me,” you whisper against his lips, your hand brushing against his rough cheek. He has to understand that he doesn’t need to pretend with you, that he can be his true self around you.

He lifts your entwined hands from the tabletop and presses a soft kiss against your knuckles. “I’m not lying.” You want to believe him, but there is a glint in his eyes when he looks up from your hand and locks his gaze to yours. It would be wise to be annoyed with him or tease him in turn, but you can’t help yourself. Every time those brown eyes land on you, you feel a pull towards him you cannot quite explain but also cannot ignore. You have to give in.

Still, you roll your eyes in a valiant attempt to keep up a semblance of dignity before pushing yourself off your chair and onto his lap. Your fingers find the hair at the nape of his neck and you grip it and hold onto it as you carefully roll your hips under the pretense of finding a comfortable position. Both his hands immediately land on your sides and squeeze.

“Then let me give you something to tell them about,” you whisper, your lips right next to his ear, and nothing beats the feeling of pride rushing through you as he pushes his hips up, chasing a tiny bit of friction. You’re sure it’s basic instinct, something he can’t quite control, and you love nothing more than making him let go.

***

You thought you would be meeting Javi’s colleagues at a bar, but then you find yourself in front of a nice restaurant. It’s the only place in town that sells good burgers, or at least that’s what the man at your side tells you. You were planning on getting pleasantly drunk, not making conversation while trying to coordinate a knife and fork, but you think you’ll manage as long as you stick to your companion.  

But something about Javi feels off tonight. He nervously fixed his tie in your hallway mirror when he picked you up (usually he doesn’t care about the state of his tie’s knot), he didn’t talk to you much during the drive to the restaurant (usually he points out little details he notices about the city or takes this opportunity to compliment you), and now he keeps fiddling with the cuff of your blouse as he leads you up the stairs to the restaurant’s entrance.

You’re also nervous, mostly because you haven’t met any of the people you’re about to be introduced to, and you don’t know if you’ll have something in common with them or if you’ll spend your evening sitting alone in some dark corner nursing one fancy cocktail after the other. If there’s one thing you’re not good at, it’s going into a situation unprepared, and Javi did nothing to help you build up some expectations about what to expect from tonight. To be fair, you didn’t ask. You didn’t ask about the colleagues you’re about to meet, you didn’t ask where you were going to meet them, and you didn’t ask about the woman he is planning on introducing to you. The reason for your silence? You didn’t want to annoy him, show him just how insecure you are.

But you feel oh so apprehensive about this evening. Your positions are reversed now – suddenly it is you who thinks it might not be such a good idea to mix personal and private. You have no answer as to why you feel like this. It is just a dull sensation in the pit of your stomach that makes your hands feel cold even though it’s a hot, humid evening. It makes you want to turn to the man at your side and ask him to go home. But you won’t. Because despite the dread you’re feeling you’re kind of excited at the prospect of meeting this new colleague he mentioned to you. There is an air of mystery around her that intrigues you because he hasn’t talked about her since that afternoon almost a week ago. And you appreciate the gesture of him biting the bullet and mixing the two sides of the coin that is Javier Peña so you can find a friend.

Once you make it inside, Javi leads you to a group of people who are already standing together in a cluster. The introductions are over way too fast, and you don’t remember a single name. Most of the men you meet look the same to you – they’re wearing suits in different shades of blue and grey and brown, broad, colorful ties, and big smiles. You’re smiling too as you shake their hands, while Javi introduces you to them as his girlfriend, and you know he would because he told you he would, but it still makes you feel warm and tingly, and it cements your right to be here by his side. You’re pretty sure you keep smiling at him like a lovesick teenager, but you don’t care. He’s smiling too, keeping close to you, a hand at the small of your back or on your elbow, his chest always right behind you for you to fall back into should you seek comfort.

Sometimes, you feel him stiffen behind you when a few of his colleagues crack jokes about how you were able to tie down the elusive Javier Peña. He rolls his eyes at their remarks, but you laugh along. You know about his reputation, you know about his past relations with other women, but you don’t mind. Why should you? You also don’t mind his colleagues’ reactions – all you care about is that this feels right at the moment and you wouldn’t change it for anything. But you do understand a bit better why Javi was wary of you meeting his colleagues.

To your relief, there is enough to drink, and soon you find yourself standing at Javi’s side, a bottle of beer in your hand, while you listen to him talk to a man about ten years his senior. You don’t understand much of what they are saying – they’re using so many abbreviations it sounds like code – but Javi stands with his hip cocked to one side so he’s leaning close to you, and you enjoy feeling the ghostly shadow of him by your side. Since he doesn’t like to talk about his job, you enjoy seeing this relatively unknown aspect of him, this other man who’s like a stranger to you, who talks with so much confidence and poise that you cannot help but listen to his every word. And you understand why he seems to be so admired among his colleagues, why they were eager to shake his hand when you arrived, why they seek out his company, why they wave at him from the other side of the room. He’s good at what he does, competent, capable, he knows how to be in charge of a situation without obtruding, and you feel such a strong pull towards this side of him you have to take a big swig from your beer bottle to hide how much this is affecting you. The last thing you need is him teasing you about it.

But before your behavior exposes your desires, he suddenly moves away, and you’re pulled after him, not so much in motion but in attention. He’s spotted someone, a woman, and he’s leaning down to press a light kiss to her right cheek before turning to you.

“This is Katie,” he introduces her, and there’s something in the way he says those three words that makes you pause. You smile at her as you shake her hand, but then your gaze flickers back to Javi who suddenly looks at you like he did in his kitchen six days ago, unsure yet with an edge of something more, something you can’t fully grasp, and then you know.

This is the woman. This is this girl at work that he thinks you’re going to like.

You turn your attention back to her to look at her, to see what he’s seeing. She’s shorter than both you, with long, brown hair that she wears in open waves. You think she has a winning smile and kind eyes, and you immediately want to get to know her better. She compliments your blouse, she makes a joke about something Javi did at work the other day, she’s even holding a bottle of your favorite beer. She seems to be all Javi promised her to be.

Then why is he looking at you so nervously, like a small boy bringing home a teacher’s note?

Javi introduces you as his girlfriend, and Katie doesn’t miss a beat before she says, “Oh, he’s told me a lot about you,” with one of the biggest smiles you’ve ever seen.

“He has?” you ask. You’re not fishing for compliments. You’re genuinely surprised, since you hadn’t expected him to be sharing his private life with his colleagues, much like he doesn’t share his professional one with you. The thought of him talking about you with this woman who is standing in front of you, makes you smile. You decide to tease him about it. “You two spend a lot of time together then?”

Katie’s smile flickers, if only for a short second. “No, it’s not –,” she starts, but Javi interrupts her before she can finish.

“Katie likes fishing,” he says.

It catches you completely off-guard, as does the look on his face. He raises a hand and lets his fingers run over his lips, something he always does when he’s nervous, while he waits for your answer.

“I do,” Katie says with an enthusiastic nod.

You have no idea what’s going on, but you decide to play along. “I go fishing with my dad whenever I’m in the States,” you tell them.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Katie exclaims, and it should, by all means, sound like something she’s only saying to be polite, but it doesn’t. Instead, it sounds like she means it. “Where are you from?”

“North Carolina,” you answer. It’s something you don’t talk about often because it’s not interesting. If you were from California or New York, people would follow up this revelation with questions and stories of their own. But North Carolina? You always feel a bit embarrassed about mentioning it.

But Katie’s reply is something you haven’t heard before. “You don’t sound like you’re from North Carolina.”

Maybe you should be offended – you don’t know what she’s implying with this – but for some reason it just makes you laugh. “Thanks,” you say.

“No, oh my God,” she backtracks immediately, “I didn’t mean to offend you …”

“You didn’t,” you assure her with a dismissive wave of your hand. You glance at Javi then, and he’s following your conversation like a cop watching his partner interrogate a suspect, like he’s afraid of missing just one syllable of what you are saying. His whole body is rigid, his hands are balled into fists at his side, and his face is a mask of pure concentration. “So,” you start again, turning back to Katie, “what has he been telling you about me?”

Several tables have been put together to stand along three walls of one of the biggest rooms in the restaurant. As you sit down and skim the menu, Katie answers your question. Javi speaks of you differently than most of their colleagues speak about their wives or girlfriends. When he talks about you, it doesn’t feel like he would rather do anything else than spend time with you. Quite the opposite, in fact. It makes your face grow hot. You try to distract yourself by ordering your meal, by changing the subject (“So, tell me, Katie, where are you from?”), by watching Javi talk to a middle-aged woman next to him, by watching Javi make her smile.

Katie tells you everything you want to know, answers all your questions in great detail, but always turns the attention back to you. When you ask her about her favorite music, she asks you about yours. When you ask her about her family, she asks you about yours. When you ask her what made her take a job in Colombia, she asks you about how you came to be here. It is a dialogue, not a monologue. She tells you about her brothers back home, about how one is a bank manager while the other went into environmentalism. She tells you she’s always wanted to go to Europe, and she hopes her next DEA assignment will finally get her there. She also tells you about her work for the DEA, about how she spends most of her days in the office, but also about how Javi took her along on a raid recently.

And you realize Javi was right. You do like her. She’s pleasant company, she’s educated but not in that stuck-up way most of Javi’s colleagues are. When you admit that you have no idea who the current Attorney General is, she doesn’t look at you like you just said you enjoy drowning kittens. She just brushes it off and changes the subject. When you tell her about a book you’ve been reading, she takes a small notepad from her bag and jots down the title and author, telling you she’ll check it out. And you truly believe she will.

When you’ve finished most of the food on your plate, she excuses herself to go to the bathroom. You check your watch, surprised that it’s already this late. Your gaze wanders over to where Javi is now talking to two young men who hang on his every word. But he’s glancing at you, a question on his face. You mouth, “What?” but he just shrugs. If he’s still worried you won’t like Katie, he has no reason to. You’re having a very pleasant evening.

When Katie gets back, Javi glances between the two of you, running his finger over his lips again. You just smile at him and, with ease, pick up the conversation with Katie once more. Maybe you should talk to someone else for a change, but Katie doesn’t seem to be bored by your company either, so you have no desire to change anything about your current situation.

Towards the end of the night, you too find yourself in the bathroom. You’re tired, but pleasantly sated, yawning while you wash your hands. You can’t wait to curl up next to Javi tonight and tell him about how much you loved talking to Katie. But you’re also not quite ready for this night to be over yet.

When you step out of the bathroom, Javi is there, waiting for you in the cramped space of the dimly lit hallway. You jump, caught off-guard, but when he shoots you an awkward glance, you can’t help but giggle.

“Hey, can I talk to you?” he asks. He’s curling the fingers of his right hand into a tight fist and releases them again, over and over. It’s another one of his nervous ticks, one he does when he’s trying to relieve tension.

“Sure, what’s up?” you reply, trying to sound casual.

Javi looks nervous, so maybe you’ve fucked up. Maybe you did something or said something, and one of his colleagues saw or heard and complained to Javi about you. You swallow hard, trying to keep the smile on your face.

“Are you having fun?” he asks next.

“Yes, of course.”

“And the food?”

“Am I enjoying the food?” you try to clarify. “Sure.”

“And Katie? You like her?”

This makes you laugh. “Yes, I like her. What’s this about, Javi?”

He doesn’t reply, just shoots you a look, pregnant with meaning.

“What?” you ask, and finally stop smiling. “Do you want me to say I don’t like her?”

“No, no,” he says, too quickly. “I’m just –”

You interrupt him. “I know you’re nervous about me liking her, but you don’t have to be. She’s really nice.” He still doesn’t look convinced. “I’m gonna ask her if she wants to meet up for coffee.”

“There’s something …,” he starts before clearing his throat. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Do you want to get coffee with me?” you tease him.

“It’s about Katie,” he answers.

“Sure.”

He takes a deep breath and then breaks eye contact with you, focusing his attention on the wall behind you. “I would like to ask her to join us …,” he says very slowly, making sure you catch every word, “… in bed … tonight.”

Still, you’re not sure you’ve understood him correctly. “What?”

“Just if you want to,” he clarifies.

That doesn’t really answer your question, or any of the other, and there are a lot, but you don’t know where to begin. “Katie?” you say, trying to encompass everything you’re feeling with this single question.

You look past Javi to where she’s sitting, watching the people around her with interest. And then something drops – you’re not sure you’d call it a penny because it feels smaller than that, but you suddenly remember having talked about inviting someone into your bed to see what it would be like. The conversation happened a few weeks ago, after Javi had fucked you for what felt like hours. You had lost count of the number of orgasms you’ve had, but still he didn’t seem to be satisfied. You hadn’t thought much of it then. All you remember is agreeing to give it a try; your fucked-out brain would have agreed to anything. But you had no idea Javi already had someone in mind, you had no idea he’d brought it up thinking of Katie. And suddenly the tone he had used to talk about her in his kitchen a week ago sounds a lot different to you.

Javi’s silent, staring at you with his big, brown eyes, patiently waiting for an answer, while you’re trying to wrap your head around this proposition.

And your mind is racing. You did say yes to the idea of it when he asked you about it, but he just sprung this on you, and it’s so much more than an idea now, it’s a plan, one he’s fully prepared to set in motion. He’s talking about tonight, he’s talking about leaving here and taking her home with you and doing this … tonight. You haven’t been given a chance to prepare for this, you don’t know how you feel about it, how you’re supposed to feel, so you decide to try something.

“Would you like that?” you ask him.

He nods.

“Why her?” you want to know.

“I think she’s nice, pretty, …,” he answers with a non-committal shrug.

“I thought you wanted her to be my friend,” you remind him.

“Of course, I want that,” he’s quick to assure you. “I want you two to get along.”

You reach up to grab his tie then. “Javier, are you sure about this?” you ask with emphasis.

His eyes open wide at this. “Yes.”

You feel a familiar tingling between your legs at hearing his breath hitch. Before you let this go too far, you look over at Katie again and try to imagine her in bed between the two of you, but you can’t. You have no idea how you would even start thinking about this, so you focus on something else, something you’re familiar with, something steady: Javi.

“All right,” you agree. “But there’s some rules I want us to follow.”

“Is that a yes?” he asks and it sounds so incredulous you almost smile.

“Yes, just –”

But he crowds you against the wall, pushes you back against the bricks before you can finish the sentence.

“What –,” you start.

Then he kisses you in a way that’s meant for the privacy of your bedroom, not a public restaurant. You kiss him back tentatively because you don’t want to encourage him too much. He comes even closer, and you feel something brush against your leg.

A smirk spreads across your face. “Why didn’t you say something?” you ask between kisses.

“I am saying something,” he points out.

“Yeah, but sooner.”

He shrugs again, then goes in for another kiss. You hold him back.

“Javi, stop,” you say in a firm voice. “Just listen to me for a minute, okay?”

He nods.

“You have to ask her,” you insist. “I’m not doing it, all right?”

He nods.

“And I don’t …,” you lower your voice, “want you inside of her. Is that clear?”

He nods.

“I’ll be in charge,” you go on. “I’ll decide what we’re doing.”

The “fine” he gives you as an answer is accompanied by a deep rumbling in his chest.

“And she’s not staying over. I don’t care how late it gets, she’s leaving afterwards.” You feel like you need to set these boundaries if you want this to work.

“Can I take her home?” he asks.

“Yes,” you answer.

He licks his lips. “Yeah, okay.”

***

You’re in the car. Javi is driving, you’re next to him, watching the lights of the city drift by. Your heartbeat is louder than the sound of the engine, you expect Katie to remark on it any second now, to ask if everything’s okay. But she doesn’t. She’s talking about a book she’s reading, one you’ve also read (and loved) but you can’t bring yourself to hold a conversation. Katie doesn’t pick up on the shift in atmosphere, and if she does, she doesn’t comment on it. But you feel like there’s a deadly snake resting between your feet, one that will bite if you make a single wrong move.

There is a difference between talking about inviting Katie home with you in a room full of people where it’s just a theoretical concept and actually doing it.

Javi agreed to be the one to ask her. But he’s kept quiet so far. All he did was offer Katie a ride home, which she accepted with a big smile on her face. You glance over at Javi as he’s driving, his face alternating between being aflame in golden lighting and hidden in complete darkness. You can see the tension in his facial expression by the way he furrows his brow, but when he glances over at you there is something in his gaze – reassurance, yes, but also an edge of something you can’t quite put your finger on. You tell yourself his eyes are only this dark because your environment is. And suddenly you don’t feel like you’re in danger anymore; suddenly you want to exploit this situation, exploit the power it gives you over him.

You turn around to look at Katie, who’s sitting in the seat behind Javi. She just ended a long explanation about a character’s motivation by saying, “… you know,” and you nod to signal you’ve been listening, even though you haven’t.

If Javi doesn’t want to bring it up, you have to. Because the more you think about it, the more you want to do this, and you don’t want to rely on a man who can’t make the first move.

“Katie, I was wondering …,” you start, and immediately Javi’s right hand leaves the wheel, and his fingers dig into your thigh. You inhale sharply at the sensation but continue, “… are you seeing anyone?” Javi loosens his hold on you but doesn’t let go completely.

Katie shakes her head, then bites her lip bottom lip. “You know,” she says then lowers her voice, “I actually had my eyes on …,” she nods at Javi, “but please don’t think –”

You interrupt her. “No, please, Katie, it’s fine.” You smile at the man next to you, who shakes his head ever so slightly. “I completely understand.”

“Yeah,” Katie sighs and shakes her head so her hair tumbles down over one shoulder. “There are actually a few broken hearts at the office.”

That makes you laugh, if only because Javi looks utterly miserable. “I think he’s secretly enjoying that,” you whisper in a conspiratorial tone of voice.

Javi makes a sound of warning, one that tells you to shut up.

“Javi, I’m kidding,” you say with a light laugh. It’s only half the truth. You know him. You know he enjoys the attention.

Katie, too, starts to apologize, but you interrupt her again.

“Please, you have nothing to apologize for, he can take it.” You wonder if you should press your luck, if you should rile him up a bit more, and you decide it’s the right thing to do. “Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy the attention, Javi. Broken hearts … women pining for you …”

Javi makes another sound of warning. “It’s not like that,” he says through gritted teeth.

“What’s it like then?” you challenge.

Katie interrupts your stand-off before Javi can reply. “You guys, this is me, actually,” she says, pointing at the dark shape of an apartment building at the end of the block.

You turn around to face her again. “Katie, would you like to come up for a cup of coffee? Javi lives just down the street.”

“You sure?” Katie looks at Javi when she asks.

The knuckles on Javi’s hands are white from clutching the steering wheel.

“Of course,” you say, nodding eagerly.

“Yeah, all right,” Katie agrees.

You’re all quiet until you reach Javi’s apartment building. He gets out to open the garage door, then drives the car inside. You can’t help but notice that he still hasn’t asked, and you feel yourself getting nervous and antsy. If he doesn’t do it soon, you’ll definitely be the one to bring it up.

As soon as the car is parked, Katie gets out and shuts the door behind her with a dull bang.

Javi turns in his seat so he’s facing you. “What was that?” he asks.

“Ask her,” you tell him. “Now. Or I’m gonna do it.”

“What?” he snaps.

“I was trying to give you an opening,” you explain, as calmly as possible. Why does this have to be so complicated? “Like a scene partner, you know? Set up everything, so you can ask her.”

“Well, you weren’t doing a good job.”

“Gee, thanks,” you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“I’m gonna do it,” Javi tells you, his voice much softer now, “just give me time.”

“How much longer do you need?” you want to know. “She almost had us drop her off at her flat.”

“I’m doing it,” Javi sighs, “just … go away.”

All the tension in you leaves your body in one big wave and you smile softly at him. “Javi, are you nervous?”

He shoots you a stern look.

You raise your hands defensively. “All right, I’m going.”

You both get out of the car, and while you walk towards the exit to the stairwell, your steps echoing through the underground parking lot, you hear Javi say, “Katie, do you have a minute?”

You stop once you reach the door, lingering in the shadows, your eyes on Javi and Katie. You watch them talk, but you cannot hear what they’re saying; they’re too far away and standing too closely together for the sound to carry all the way to you. All you can tell is that he’s explaining something to her, and when he grows quiet, he cocks his hip, arms akimbo. Then he nods at you.

You have to admit you’re more nervous than you want Javi to know. So much could go wrong. What if she starts shouting at you? What if she storms off? She’s still Javi’s colleague, he would still have to work with her. What were you thinking? Why did you agree to this? Why didn’t you ask a complete stranger? It would certainly have made things a lot less awkward.

Katie is also looking at you, just for a moment, but it’s enough time for her to take you in, from head to toe, and then she looks back at Javi. She says something, something you can’t hear, and he nods. Then she nods, too.

***

You’re on Javi’s couch, Katie is sitting next to you, another bottle of beer in her hand, while Javi has made himself comfortable in an old leather armchair. You’ve been sipping on a glass of water for the past 15 minutes while you’ve been listening to them talk about work. Neither of you has mentioned anything about the proposition, and you have no idea how to bring it up again. Yes, you want to be in charge, but you had hoped Javi would do more than just ask. You had hoped he would initiate something … anything.

But instead, they’re both relaxed and at ease, talking about some new regulations that have been introduced recently, while you try to find a way into the conversation, while you try to find something more elegant than, “Well, anyway, do you guys wanna take this to the bedroom?”

Luckily, there’s only so much time you can spend discussing regulations on car safety, and soon a tense silence settles over the room, settles between you, waiting to be cut, to be torn apart, and you know that this is your chance.

“So,” you start, and immediately both Javi and Katie turn their heads to look at you. You take a sip from your water before continuing. “Katie, there’s some things –”

She interrupts you immediately. “I know, Javi told me. I’m fine with it.”

You take a deep breath. “Yes, I just want us to go over it one more time, to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

God, why do you sound so awkward? This isn’t supposed to be a business negotiation and yet it feels like one. You don’t want to alienate Katie by insisting on those rules, but you need something to hold on to once you get started.

“I’m gonna be in charge,” you say quickly. “I hope Javi mentioned that.”

“He did,” Katie confirms with a nod.

“And I want you to leave once this is over.” It sounds mean, but it’s too late to phrase it nicer now.

“Yeah, sure,” Katie says, her expression neutral. “No problem.”

“I’m open to trying anything,” you go on. “But the minute someone feels uncomfortable with something, we stop. All right?” You look at both of them for confirmation. They both nod. “I need a verbal confirmation, please.”

“Yes,” Javi says, “we stop.”

“Of course,” Katie agrees.

“And there’s one more thing,” you say, trying to work up the courage to address it. You know it’s silly to be nervous about it, especially since you all just agreed to be open with one another, and since Javi already knows about it, but you still feel apprehension at the thought of bringing it up.

“Yeah, I know,” Katie says before you can continue. “No penetration.”

She says it so matter-of-factly, in the same tone of voice she used to talk about the new regulations that suddenly you feel like there won’t be any problems at all.

“I’m fine with fingers,” you say quickly, “just not …”

“Yes, and I’m completely fine with that,” Katie assures you.

You have no idea how she does it, how she can sit there and talk about this without flinching. Maybe you’re the problem; maybe you need to relax more. You enjoyed your evening talking to Katie, you enjoyed getting to know here, so there is nothing to indicate you’re not going to enjoy this. Katie is certainly set on enjoying herself, judging by the way her eyes roam over Javi, practically undressing him with her gaze.

And suddenly, you don’t feel shy at all. You feel brave and bold, and entirely not yourself as you lean closer to Katie and, before you can change your mind, capture her bottom lip between your lips. Katie makes a surprised sound, but then her hand is at the nape of your neck as she pulls you close. You can taste the beer lingering on her lips as you pry them open with your tongue, and you feel her gasp softly against your skin, and you just know that this won’t be a problem at all. You feel bolder with each passing second, not breaking the kiss when you rest your hand against her thigh, and she’s not breaking the kiss when you move it higher up to cup one of her breasts. All that catches your attention is a sharp intake of breath somewhere behind you. Katie hears it, too, and it makes her break the kiss.

“So, where’s the bedroom?” she asks, putting down her beer.

***

Javi’s bedroom is dark, except for the occasional flicker of light from a passing car that illuminates the walls and the bed for a few short moments. Neither of you switches on the light as you enter. It is a quiet procession, slightly awkward, as if you all don’t quite know how to approach this. You still feel apprehensive, but this feeling is slowly being replaced by giddy excitement, by adrenaline and arousal mixing together to form a dangerous, explosive cocktail you long to control but you also want to see ignited. You try to breathe in deeply, slowly, but your throat feels tight as your heart beats loudly against your ribcage.

You want this, you have to remind yourself, and it’s not the act itself you’re thinking about, but what you discussed just a few minutes ago. You wanted to be in charge, you tell yourself as both Javi and Katie look at you, their faces hidden behind thick shadows.

Katie looks as nervous as you feel. You’re all new to this, but she’s not as used to hiding her emotions behind a solid mask as Javi is. She glances at you, then back at him, waiting for you to say something. Or for him to do something. You were so brave and determined in the other room, as if you knew exactly what you were doing. You were another person. But now this feels solid and real, not something you just talk about with Javi to see the heat in his gaze. They actually expect you to do something, to guide them, and you’re not sure you can do it.

Javi, ever observant, ever determined to look out for you, senses your insecurity. Of course he does, how could he not? He is focused on you, it feels like you’re the only person here who matters to him, like this is about you and no one else. He takes a step forward until he’s a hand's width away from you, then pulls you close into a deep kiss, one that leaves you breathless within seconds. His tongue is everywhere, and his teeth nip and bite at your lip and neck until all you can do is cling to the collar of his shirt to help you ground yourself. He pushes you up against the nearest wall until you’re trapped between two solid entities. You’ve never felt safer and more sheltered. Your initial insecurity blows off as you lose yourself in the attention he’s paying you. His hands are eager to explore, roaming across your chest, pulling open your blouse with so much force you hear one of the buttons hitting the floor somewhere. You don’t mind; all you want is for him to keep going.

He does, forcing you to spread your legs so he can push one of his strong thighs between them, and you obey willingly, while you press sloppy, open-mouthed kisses against the hot skin of his neck, against the bulging vein that protrudes when you let your fingers brush against his chest and stomach, trailing lower and lower, eager to reach their goal. Before they can, he pushes up his thigh and you grind down onto it, both of you moaning from the strain and the tension of it. You can feel your slick coating your underwear, you’re sure he can feel the heat through the fabric of both your trousers, and it only spurs him on – he takes a hold of your hips and urges you to keep moving. You do, your eyes fluttering shut, as your entire world is reduced to that sweet friction as you chase your pleasure, completely lost in the moment.

But then his mouth is right next to your ear and he whispers something, his voice raspy and raw, and your whole body trembles.

“Look at you,” he says, and you feel the words reverberating in his chest. “You want this, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathe out in a whispered pant. “God, yes.”

He pushes up his thigh again and you let out a moan that fills the entire room.

His lips are still right next to your ear, you can feel his breath tickle your sensitive skin. “Can I kiss her?” he asks. “Will you let me?”

You can’t tell if it’s that he’s so close to you, so overwhelmingly close and solid and present, or if it’s the pleading edge to his voice when he asks you, but something makes you vibrate with desire and all you can do is nod quickly, your head connecting to the wall with a dull thud. You don’t even feel it.

He pulls you in for another kiss, taking his time with you, and you taste him, inhale his scent, drink him down, before you pull back with a soft chuckle. “Go,” you whisper, “she might get bored.”

“Yes,” he agrees, and presses another soft kiss to your lips. “I want you to take off your clothes, all right?” His thumb brushes over your cheek when he quickly cups your face. “Get comfortable …,” he hesitates, “… and if you want us to stop …”

“No!” you interrupt him. “No, please.”

The smirk spreading across his face is too cocksure for your taste, and while he’s turning away from you, you’re already trying to come up with a plan to get back at him.

Your skin still burns, it feels like your whole body, every cell, is on fire, your lungs struggle to draw in air to keep you alive. You’re sure you look like a mess, your fingers tingle and your legs shake, and you just can’t explain it, why he suddenly has this effect on you. You’re attracted to him, more than you’ve ever been to another man before, and he makes you feel so good whenever he touches you and fucks you, but this is new.

Your eyes never leave his back as he steps over to where Katie is standing completely still, as he pulls her close by her wrist, cups her cheek, his fingers tangling in her long hair, and then his lips are on hers, and she melts against him. You listen to her soft moans and his rough pants as they explore each other, and suddenly your body burns up with longing again, longing to be touched and kissed, longing to pull out those same sounds from someone else. You watch as he undresses her with adept hands, as he roughly cups one of her breasts and she mewls, satisfaction flashing across his face, as he shoves one hand between her legs, then turns to you with a satisfied grin.

He doesn’t have to say it. You know.

You hurry to get out of your clothes while Javi does the same. Katie is leaning against the wall, her body trembling, and you know how she feels, you know about the burning between her legs, about the heartbeat pounding in her ears. You’re all too familiar with the effects of his touch, his kisses, his filthy words whispered against sweat-slicked skin. But she’s been hit by it without a chance to prepare herself. When another car drives past, you get a glimpse of her flushed skin and the glimmer in her unfocused eyes, and yours flutter shut for a second in response as your hands curl into fists.

If this is what Javi gets to see when he touches you it’s not surprising he does it so often.

He takes your hand and leads you to the bed, helps you settle down comfortably. Katie follows, her gaze fixed on Javi’s hard cock, eyes wide.

“No,” he says, as if he can read her mind. “She’s first.”

It’s against your deal, against the rules you set for this to work. He shouldn’t be in charge, you should be, you should tell them what comes next, how to approach this. But when one of his hands grips your thigh and pulls so your legs spread and you hear a hissed breath as he looks at the evidence of your arousal slick and glistening between your legs, you lose all will to take charge. Instead, you let your head fall back and wait, wait for him.

And then there’s something else, too; Katie, on your other side, much smaller, less imposing, but there, smelling sweet and clean where Javi’s scent is heavy and choking. She settles down comfortably next to you, her body pressed against yours, and before you can get used to the feeling of her own arousal against your leg, she softly moves your head, so you look at her, and then she’s kissing you hungrily. Suddenly, her sweet scent is all you breathe and taste, her soft lips against your own ignite something deep within you, something you already felt back in the living room but which you pushed down for the time being because it wasn’t the right place. Now it is, and you pull back and push one of your legs between hers, watching how her jaw tightens, how her eyes open wide, and then she starts rolling her hips, coating your skin with her slick. You tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck and force her to look down, to watch herself, and when she does, you’re suddenly filled with two of Javi’s fingers, stretching you open.

A hoarse moan escapes your throat as he pulls them out again but immediately replaces them with three. You’re used to it, used to his thick, strong fingers stretching you, but you’re so wound up and on edge that it almost feels overwhelming. There are tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but then you feel Katie’s lips against your neck, and it brings you back down.  

Somewhere above you, Javi huffs. “You’re so wet,” he says, his voice unbelievably deep and rough and it makes a shudder run through you from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. You want to come up with a witty retort, but you can’t, not when you hear what he says next. “Do you want to feel her, Katie?”

“Can I?” Katie whispers against your neck, but before the question has left her mouth in its entirety, you’re already replying.

“Yes, fuck,” you moan, trying to push up your hips to take Javi’s fingers in deeper.

He grips you with his free hand and pushes you back into the mattress. And then you feel the much softer touch of Katie’s fingers against your stomach, stroking you soothingly. She even whispers a soft, “Shh,” against the shell of your ear, and you squirm in reply, but then she finds your clit and softly circles it, once, twice, and you go limp at the same time as she bites down on your neck to muffle a breathless, “Fuck.”

You share that sentiment. Her fingers feel nothing like Javi’s. They’re softer both in touch and pressure but combined with his three still buried deep inside of you, still fucking into you with wet, obscene noises, you feel like you’ve found Heaven on Earth. You’re close, every muscle in your body tenses, and you close your eyes with a deep groan.

Suddenly, Javi’s hand closes around your jaw and he pulls. “Look at me,” he demands. “I want to see you.”

Reluctantly, you open your eyes, but then you see it. Javi is looking at you like he usually does, with amazement and want, but there is also a different edge to it, something between unrestrained lust and uninhibited pride, and something like adoration too, and he’s never looked at you like that before. It’s enough to push you over the edge and you come with a hoarse cry, tightening around his fingers, pushing him even deeper into you, and this time Katie has to hold you in place with a firm grip as he continues to fuck you with three wet fingers, fuck you through your orgasm, the muscles on his arm taut with the effort.  

Only when you hiss and try to move away does he stop. He leans down to press a soft kiss against your temple as you shudder and try to catch your breath. Katie’s hand moves up to stroke across your stomach in lazy circles, while she presses small kisses along the underside of your jaw. You swallow hard and close your eyes – you have never, never, felt like this after an orgasm; you feel so open and vulnerable with both of them doting on you like this, but you also feel safe and secure. The only thing that’s missing is a feeling of deep satisfaction, and you might have an idea how to achieve that.

“You all right?”

It takes you a moment to realize Javi has addressed you, but once this information registers with you, you nod slowly. “Just give me a second,” you answer, your voice raw. You clear your throat and the movement stings.

Did you scream? You probably did but you don’t remember.

Javi relaxes, sits up, and carefully pulls out his fingers. You hadn’t even realized they were still inside of you, and you hiss at the sudden feeling of emptiness. He only smirks at you, a lopsided grin that ignites another spark of desire deep in your belly.

“Lie down,” you tell him, your voice still hoarse and dry.

He looks at you, a question on his face.

“Come on,” you urge him, pushing yourself up on your elbows so you’re closer to him. “Lie down on your back.”

He does as he’s told, lying down on your right side next to Katie who’s still cuddled up to you, still trying to kiss your neck, your shoulders, anywhere she can reach. But your eyes are on Javi, and on the unreadable expression on his face. There is definitely some curiosity there, some inquisitiveness, and you haven’t forgotten – you haven’t forgotten about wanting to get back at him.

With a finger under Katie’s chin, you tilt her head up to kiss her, a slow kiss that quickly turns into something more. She grips your arm and holds on as you take your time with her, exploring her mouth, exploring all the ways you can make her sigh and whimper. By the time you pull away, she’s a quivering mess and you can’t blame her, especially not once you realize why her moans have grown louder and more desperate during the last few minutes.

Javi’s hand is between her thighs, and you see him move two fingers in and out of her at a leisurely pace. This sight – his thick fingers, the same ones that were buried so deep inside of you only minutes ago, now coated in her slick – makes you bite back a moan that’s trying to force its way out of your chest. You lock eyes with Javi as he pushes a third finger into her and she drops her head onto your shoulder with a strangled sigh; there’s a challenge in his gaze, one you’re ready to accept.

You run your fingers through Katie’s hair and watch Javi continue what he’s doing, listen to the obscenely wet sounds his movements make, and whisper soothing words to the woman by your side, whisper to her how good she is for you, how well she’s taking it, how pretty she looks on display for you like that. You know Javi can hear you, you see his cock twitch when you ask, “Would you like him to taste you?” and her breathlessly replying, “Yes.”

Javi moves to get up, but you quickly put a stop to this by shaking your head. “No,” you say, “we’re doing this my way.”

Yes, there’s definitely curiosity in his gaze, but you also don’t think his eyes have ever been this dark before.

You softly kiss Katie again, then say, “Hey,” in the quietest voice you can muster, giving the circumstances. “Look at me.”

Katie opens her eyes and gazes at you, her brow knit tightly, her eyes glazed over with lust. The sight makes you bite your lip, and her gaze immediately flickers down to where your teeth dig into the soft flesh.

“Are you all right?” you ask her.

She nods slowly.

“If there’s something you don’t feel comfortable with, just tell me.”

She swallows and nods again. You have a feeling she wants to say something but doesn’t trust her voice.

You nod too. “Get up,” you say, giving the softness in your voice an edge to show her this isn’t up for debate.

Javi slowly pulls his fingers out of her and you see her thighs quiver at the loss. You help her into a kneeling position.

“He’s gonna taste you now, all right?” you ask, making sure everyone is on board with what’s going to happen next. “I’m going to take care of him, so I don’t want you to worry about that. But you’re going to look at me the whole time.”

Her eyes widen as she realizes what you mean, and you hear Javi inhale sharply behind her. You let them find a position that is comfortable for them while you move to settle between Javi’s legs. His cock is an angry, red color and you cannot wait to feel the weight of it in your hand, to give him some of the relief he’s craving. He’s been so good for you – for the both of you –, he deserves to be taken care of. You let your eyes wander to the tip, to the drop of pre-cum that is inviting you to lean down and taste him, when you hear a deep groan vibrate through his entire body, so depraved and unrestrained it makes you look up.

Katie’s thighs are planted to the left and right of Javi’s head, his hands are digging into her soft flesh to spread them even further. Her head is thrown back in pure bliss as he licks up into her, holding her down so he can reach as much of her as possible. You’re completely mesmerized by the sight in front of you, by Javi’s face buried between another woman’s legs, by her arousal coating his chin, and it makes your own cunt clench with need. For a moment, just one brief moment, you consider abandoning your plan, taking him inside of you until you’re joined, connected, until nothing could pull you apart, and then fucking him until he spills inside you, moaning your name into Katie’s cunt.

But you don’t.

You take a deep breath, then wrap your hand around the base of Javi’s cock.

His moan of strained relief sends a jolt of pleasure through you.

You run your fingers up his length and swipe your thumb across the tip, collecting some of the pre-cum. As a response, he digs his nails deeper into Katie’s thighs and she cries out, a sound somewhere between pain and pleasure.

“He likes it rough, you know,” you say, circling the tip of his cock with your thumb lightly, casually, as if you were doodling a circle while talking to someone on the phone.

Katie’s eyes snap open and she looks at you, but you’re not sure she sees you. You don’t blame her. You’re well aware of what Javi can do with his tongue. You know what it feels like when he moans against your wet cunt, your swollen clit. In fact, you’re surprised Katie hasn’t come all over his face yet.

“Grab his neck,” you say, and cannot help but laugh lewdly when she immediately complies, her slender fingers closing around his strong, muscular throat. You watch as a vein at the base of his neck bulges, straining with effort, while he never once falters, while he continues to lick through Katie’s wet folds like she’s the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. “Go on then,” you say, your hand closing around the base of his cock again and squeezing, “don’t be shy – fuck his face.”

The way Katie follows your orders immediately, without hesitation, without the flicker of a doubt on her face, makes pleasure shoot through your veins. You swallow hard at the sight of her rolling her hips almost leisurely, her fingers still wrapped around his throat for purchase, while he drinks her down without complaint, a dark flush creeping up his chest and neck.

You’ve teased him enough.

You pump his cock once, twice, before settling yourself so you can wrap an arm around his leg, running your fingers through his coarse, dark hair, and then you finally allow yourself to taste him. You suck the tip of him into your mouth, letting his taste burst on your tongue, appreciating it like you would appreciate expensive wine. You take him in deeper, his heaviness familiar against your tongue, his taste sharp and strong, and he rewards you with a deep, dark growl, with low moans, with clipped sighs. One of his hands find its way to the nape of your neck to push you down further, and you let him. He’s been patient enough – he’s allowed to take for a while.

But there’s something else, too, another noise, one you usually don’t hear when you do this: the wet sound of his tongue against Katie’s center, her quiet gasps mixed with his strained huffs. You can feel yourself get impossibly wet at hearing them, at hearing this ambient noise all around you, and you let out a moan of your own before hollowing your cheeks to take even more of him in your mouth until his tip brushes against the back of your throat and you feel tears sting at the corner of your eyes.

Javi lets out a low growl and pushes his hips up. You hold him down, try to restrain him, but his muscles tense, his breathing gets ragged and then ….

You hear it, a quiet gasp, and look up. Katie’s eyes are on you, her face is flushed, she looks like she’s burning up, and it takes you a moment to realize what is happening until you notice she’s stilled completely, and her hands have left Javi’s neck and are braced against his broad chest, her nails digging into his flesh, leaving angry marks. She’s coming, she’s coming all over his face, while he continues to lick her with the most obscenely wet sounds you’ve ever heard. She doesn’t even have time to call out or shout his name because she’s so overwhelmed, taken completely by surprise, and you are, too. All you can do is sit up and watch her, brushing the loose strands of hair from her face, as she comes completely undone without a single sound.

You don’t give her much time to catch her breath, neither of you do. With a firm grip, Javi pushes her off him and you immediately set the next step of your plan in motion.

“Do you want to return the favor?” you ask her.

Her eyes grow wide, and it feels like she’s unable to speak, but she nods eagerly. You can see her heartbeat, a quick pulsing in her neck, tempting you, and you lean forward to kiss it.

“Go on then,” you whisper against her skin.

You swap places; she settles herself between Javi’s legs and you lie down next to him. He looks like a mess. His chest is rising and falling rapidly like he’s just finished running a marathon. There are marks all over the skin, and his cheeks are flushed. His eyes are glazed over, and his curls are damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead. You run your fingers through them, trying to smooth them back. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, drawing your eyes lower to his mustache that’s impossibly darker.

The urge to kiss him becomes unbearable.

When you do, he doesn’t taste like himself. There is another taste mixed in there, one that is foreign to you, and you bite down on his lip possessively when you taste it. He lets out a low growl and bucks his hips, drawing your attention downwards.

Katie looks up at the both of you, tears in her eyes. She’s doing her best, but you know how it is, you know that Javi’s size can be overwhelming at first. You decide to help her, to make this as enjoyable as possible for both of them.

“He likes a firm hold at the base,” you say.

Katie’s fingers close around his cock in a firm grip and Javi hisses, his breath fanning across your neck.

“Good girl,” you praise. You don’t know where this is coming from, but Katie’s eyes flutter shut and Javi’s chest rumbles with a desperate purr and you know you’ve said the right thing. “Use your tongue more,” you continue, “and try to get out of your head … he likes it sloppy.”

Katie’s tongue darts out to lick along the underside of Javi’s cock, from base to tip, before she takes him in her mouth again, doing her best to hold him steady. She doesn’t break eye contact with you and it’s only when you nod encouragingly that she lets him fall from her mouth with a wet plop, a trail of spit connecting her to his tip.

“Yeah, that’s better,” you tell her. “Keep that up and he won’t last long.”

You turn your attention back to Javi who looks at you with eyes impossibly dark. If there was a source of light in the room, you’re sure you’d be able to see your reflection in them. You grip a tuft of hair at the top of his head and hold him in place.

“Is this what you wanted?” you ask him, whispering the words into his ear, against his hot, flushed, sweat-slicked skin.

He nods, nothing more.

“I want to hear you say it,” you urge him on.

When he answers you with words, you hear why he was trying to communicate non-verbally. The “yes” he gives you is a hoarse, deep, desperate sound. You had no idea his voice could sound like this, could sound so wrecked, so taut, so pleading. You kiss him, and he kisses you back with such urgency, like a drowning man coming up for air.

You’re drunk, drunk on this power you have over him, drunk on being in charge of his pleasure while not even touching him, and you feel the desire to exploit this, to push him as far as he’ll let you without breaking him. You kiss him back, holding him in place with the fingers in his hair, while you listen to Katie moan around his cock. He moans, too, and his hips twitch, and you know he’s close, one fist tangled in the bedsheets, the other holding on to your arm.

“Katie, stop,” you say.

She does immediately, thinking there’s something wrong. Javi groans in frustration, his hips jerking upwards to chase that bit of friction from Katie’s hand still wrapped around him.

“Change of plans,” you tell them.

“No, please.”

You don’t recognize Javi’s voice. If you wouldn’t have seen his mouth move, you wouldn’t have known it was him who had just spoken.

“Please, querida.” He’s trying to convince you, he really is, knowing you usually can’t resist him when he calls you that, but you can, you have to this time.

“There’s something I want to try,” you tell him, letting your fingers run down his chest. “You said I could decide what we’re doing.”

“Yes, you can, but please …”

“If you do as I say …,” you say slowly, swallowing hard, “you can fuck me as hard as you want.”

He thinks this is hard for him, but it’s nothing compared to how hard this is for you. You’re sure you could come from hearing him say two more words in that voice of his. Luckily, he shuts his mouth and nods, determination on his face.

You sit up. “Katie, come here.” You beckon her close with a wave of your hand. “Lie down next to him.” Katie does as she’s told, glancing at Javi whose eyes are fixed on you. “Make sure his hands stay where you can see them. He’s not allowed to touch himself.”

“Yes,” Katie says, her voice hoarse.

You allow yourself to give her one kiss, just one, before you frame her chin with your thumb and index finger and turn her face so she’s looking at Javi. Where Javi’s skin is burning, Katie’s is cool to the touch when you let your hands run down her sides and over the taut plane of her stomach. She sucks in a quiet breath as you brush your fingers over her thighs, over the mound of hair between them, and then you touch her.

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, at feeling her soft, warm, wet center. You run your fingers through her drenched folds, you listen to her gasps and whimpers, you hear Javi’s voice, too, but you can’t understand what he’s saying. And then, with a shallow breath, you push one finger into Katie. You feel her clench around you, you hear her whisper your name in surprise, but you’re too mesmerized by the sight of your digit vanishing between her folds to look at her.

You get it. You get it now. You know, you understand why Javi loves doing this to you.

When you add a second finger and pick up the pace, Katie moans loudly, but still not loud enough to drown out Javi’s aroused grunt. You finally lift your head to look at them both, at Javi, whose mouth hangs open, who has a look on his face like he’s trying to solve an unsolvable puzzle, and at Katie, who’s doing her best to keep her gaze on Javi, but whose eyelids flutter dangerously.

You shift positions and then your face is level with Katie’s weeping cunt. You pull out your fingers, grab her thighs in a tight grip, and give her one experimental lick, just a taste, just a sample. It’s so different from what Javi tastes like, it’s less heavy, less prominent. You try it again. And again.

Katie is a whimpering mess by now; one of her hands is resting against the top of your head; what the other one is doing, you don’t know. All you can focus on is the feeling of her against your tongue as you suck on her clit. That makes her scream, and you do it again, until her voice is hoarse.

Then you hear Javi. “You like that?” he asks, and you think he’s talking to you, but when you lift your eyes, you see he has Katie’s face in a tight grip, forcing her to look at you.

Katie nods.

“Tell her,” Javi demands, tightening his grip.

“Fuck,” Katie moans, and for you, this would have been enough, but not for Javi.

“You can do better than that,” he coos.

“It – you feel so good,” Katie tries. “God, I … more, please.”

“What do you need?” Javi asks. “Tell her.”

“Can I have … I just need … a finger,” Katie answers, her face and chest impossibly red, her expression open and vulnerable, her eyes glazed over. “I just want something to come on.”

You pull away for a second, a smirk on your face. “You can have two,” you say, before shoving two fingers inside her. You feel her tense around you, pulling you in deeper, and when you put your tongue back on her clit, she lets out the filthiest, most desperate moan you’ve heard her make all evening.

She didn’t moan like that when Javi was between her legs.

“Do you want to come?” you hear Javi ask her, and a strangled sound is the reply. “That good enough for you?” he asks you.

“No,” you say between licks.

“You heard her,” Javi goes on. “Try again.”

“Please …,” Katie whimpers. “I need to …”

You push your fingers impossibly deeper into her and she tightens around them with a hoarse scream, over and over, while you suck her clit into your mouth again with a filthy sound. She tries to pull away then, but you hold her in place with your free hand.

“No,” you say, your voice breathy. “Another one.”

Javi lets go of Katie’s face and shifts on the bed. Your eyes flicker to him, but he’s keeping his promise so far.

“Think you can do it?” he asks Katie.

“I don’t know,” she answers.

“You can,” you tell her. “Just keep an eye on him.”

You’re on thin ice, you know that. There’s only so far Javi will allow you to push him. But you feel drunk on the power you hold not only over him, but also over Katie. Her legs tremble when you drag your tongue through her wet folds again, her muscles twitch, and her hips push upwards. You hold her down, then repeat the movement with your tongue before pushing the tip of it into her. Katie’s head falls back with another loud moan, and this time you let her roll her hips against your mouth before pulling away.

The desperate whimper she makes cloaks your mind in a hazy, filthy mist of lust.

“Tell me, Katie,” you start, lazily pushing the tip of your finger into her, “who’s better? Me or him?”

You don’t look at her as you say it, you look at Javi. He holds your gaze, his expression unreadable, but there is something in his eyes, something that reminds you of a gathering storm.

“You,” Katie breathes out. “You, fuck!”

And then the storm breaks loose in Javi’s eyes. You see the lightning, hear the thunder, you feel the electricity prick at the back of your neck. You shouldn’t have asked Katie this question, you shouldn’t have provoked him like this, but here you are. There no taking it back now.

Even as you turn your attention back to Katie, even as you taste her cunt once more, you know he’s watching you. You feel his heated gaze, you feel something simmer just beneath the surface. As long has Katie moans and writhes beneath you, you’re safe. Javi won’t make his move. But as soon as Katie comes, you will have to pay.

And she does, eventually. She pushes her hips up, pressing your face against her with a firm grip at the back of your head, and you feel her come all over your tongue and chin with quiet shouts of pleasure.

Before you have time to collect yourself, before you have time to sit up or catch your breath, Javi is behind you. You don’t even see him move, you only realize he’s changed position when you feel the heat of his body against your back, when you feel his fingers on your sides, when you feel him slam into you. The sheer force of it pushes you up the bed until you’re right above Katie’s dazed face. You hold on for dear life, your fingers gripping the bedsheets, as Javi fucks you with so much force you can feel him everywhere. You don’t even have enough air left in your lungs to cry out, all you can hear is his skin against yours and his low grunts as he’s finally taking what you’ve denied him for so long. There is nothing you can do but let him.

You know you won’t last long, neither of you will. But when you feel Katie’s fingers against your clit, when you look into her eyes and see her bite her lip in concentration, it’s too much. The contrast between Javi fucking you at a punishing pace and Katie’s soft touch, almost like a caress, loosens something within you before your entire body tenses up. Something is happening to you that you cannot quite explain. You feel yourself grow unbelievably wet, so wet Javi slips out of you completely for a second but pulls you back onto him with a rough tug, and then you hear Katie moan out a low, “Shit”. You bury your face in the crook of her neck, feeling wrung out yet taut at the same time. It’s so overwhelming you feel like you’re about to explode, like you cannot keep going, but they don’t stop. Javi has an arm slung around your stomach as he holds you in place, Katie has your hip in a firm grip while she circles your clit with a movement that’s enough to keep you on edge but not push you over it. Javi has grown completely quiet, and you know exactly why; you know what his face looks like even though you can’t see him, you know he’s about to come from the way his muscles twitch against your back. But you don’t know if you can give him what he wants, if you can come on his cock buried deep inside you, his cock that sends jolt after jolt of rough pleasure through you. You’re too overwhelmed, you won’t be able to let go.

But then, your face still buried in Katie’s neck, you hear her say, “Come for us,” and that’s all it takes. You do, your muscles closing around Javi’s cock like a vise, while you bite down on the soft skin of Katie’s shoulder, trying to muffle the scream that tears itself from an undiscovered place within you, so well hidden, so deeply buried you had no idea it existed. And while you feel wave over wave of pleasure rush through you, you also feel Javi flood you in wave over wave of hot release, his body completely still, holding you in place until he’s done.

He pulls out of you with a wet sound, and you immediately sink down next to Katie, spent and exhausted and more tired than you’ve ever felt in your life. Katie kisses your cheek, your temple, your lips, anywhere she can reach, while Javi gets a wet cloth from the bathroom to clean you up. The second to last thing you remember is Javi joining you on the bed again, his strong arms wrapping around you, whispering soothing words.

The last thing you remember is taking Katie’s hand into yours and saying, “Stay.”

***

It’s early morning, the street outside Javi’s flat is still quiet, and you yawn as you lean against his arm, a cup of coffee in your hand.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for breakfast?” you ask Katie as you watch her put on her shoes.

“Thank you, but I have a lot of work to catch up on,” she rejects your offer again with a smile. “Another time maybe?”

“Do you want to grab coffee sometime?” you ask her.

“Sure!” she exclaims excitedly. “Anytime.”

“I’ll give you a call, okay?”

She nods, then pulls you away from Javi and into a tight hug. “It was lovely meeting you,” she says, her arms still slung around you. “I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too,” you say, before pulling away.

Katie turns her attention to Javi. “Thank you,” she says. For what exactly, she doesn’t reveal.

Javi, his hair still messy from sleep, wearing nothing but an old pair of boxers, looking exhausted and tired, still manages to smile at her. He leans down and presses a kiss against her cheek. She presses a kiss against his lips.

“See you,” she says, meaning both of you. 

taglist (mostly people who showed interest in this fic): @acdeaky | @ah-soka | @chasingdreamer | @codenamewife | @darksber | @deliriouslybewitching | @dindja | @doin-stuff | @filthybookworm | @for-my-satisfaction | @frannyzooey​ | @itssmashedavo​ | @kesskirata​ | @leannawithacapitala​ | @murbeft | @omgreally​ | @pedropascaldice​ | @phoenixhalliwell​ | @phrog-seeds | @pilothusband​ | @queenofthefaceless-main | @reluctantlyresponsibleadult​ | @skyshipper​ | @softpedropascal​ | @speakerforthedead0​ | @starrdvstkenobi​ | @sunnydunnydays​ | @tacticalsparkles​ | @theorganasolo​ | @walt-breslin​ (if your url is crossed through it means I couldn’t tag you for some reason, I’m sorry!)

[synchronousemma]

Tuesday, 25th January: Jane Fairfax visits Hartfield

Read: Vol 2, ch. 2 (20); pp. 108–109 (from “These were charming feelings” through to “Emma could not forgive her”).

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Context

Jane Fairfax, Miss Bates, Mrs. Bates, and Mr. Knightley spend the evening at Hartfield. Emma fails at her resolution to like Jane better.

We know that “the next morning” (vol. 2, ch. 3 [21]; p. 109) is the 26th, since Miss Bates later remarks that Mr. Elton had left “four weeks [ago] yesterday” (ibid.; p. 113).

Note that the second section of this write-up ("Disgustingly, Suspiciously Reserved") contains spoilers.

Readings and Interpretations

Tiresome and More Tiresome

We see again in this passage how Emma’s dislike for Jane readily blends Jane’s own behavior with the behavior and speech of other people in regards to Jane (see also “Jane Fairfax, Jane Fairfax, Jane Fairfax” from the post for 15th December). The syntax merges mention of “Jane’s offences” into the same sentence as the description of her aunt’s:

The aunt was as tiresome as ever; more tiresome, because anxiety for her health was now added to admiration of her powers; and they had to listen to the description of exactly how little bread and butter she ate for breakfast, and how small a slice of mutton for dinner, as well as to see exhibitions of new caps and new work-bags for her mother and herself; and Jane’s offences rose again. They had music; Emma was obliged to play; and the thanks and praise which necessarily followed appeared to her an affectation of candour, an air of greatness, meaning only to shew off in higher style her own very superior performance. (p. 108)

Claude Rawson, in an analysis of Austen’s narratorial strategy, writes that

In the report of Miss Bates’s conversation, we get the conversational detail in a form of past tense which evokes the routinely familiar, as though all that was said, while given much of its specificity, was too habitual to merit particularised recording, though it is simultaneously recorded as a particularised event. […] The grammatical feature may be assumed to express the tedium experienced by Emma, who has just been speaking to Knightley in her own name, but is now reporting subsequent reflections, partly filtered through a narrator’s report of that report. The exasperation at Miss Bates’s tiresomeness, though not neutralised, is partially unreliable, because the authorial complicity in the account is coloured by knowingness about Emma’s fluctuating feelings about Jane herself: of admiration, of guilt for past misjudgements, of revived irritation, projected on to Miss Bates because she is Jane’s aunt and because part of her tiresomeness is the product of affection for her niece, and because Jane herself remains politely and ‘suspiciously reserved’ […]. The orchestration introduces an elusive interplay between her point of view and that of a controlling authorial sensibility or voice. It is a form of what came much later to be called ‘free indirect style’ […].1 (p. 342)

Disgustingly, Suspiciously Reserved

Jane’s reluctance to answer questions “on the subject of Weymouth and the Dixons” is presumably owing, repeat readers will know, at least in part to the fact that she first met Frank Churchill in Weymouth. Here again, then, is another occasion on which Emma ‘correctly’ perceives a sign and ‘incorrectly’ guesses its signification: Jane does have something to hide, and it is likely contributing to her reserve, but it is (probably?) not an affair with Mr. Dixon.

Myra Stokes clarifies certain aspects of Austen’s vocabulary in this passage:

Disgust in Jane Austen means, strictly, distaste; though offensive is what disgusting often implies. Emma is not using a meaningless hyperbole; she means that Jane’s reserve offends by its implied mistrust. Nor does suspiciously here indicate that it is such as to give one suspicions about what she may be holding back (though it certainly has the effect of prompting Emma to speculate on that); the word relates subjectively and not objectively to Jane’s manner, associating itself with that ‘cautious’ determination to ‘hazard nothing’, and gives justificatory weight to the adverb disgustingly: she behaves as if she were suspicious of you, and that cannot but provoke strong distaste. (p. 103)

Joe Bray notes that the syntax in this passage changes with Emma’s mood, gradually escalating annoyance into suspicion into certainty:

Emma’s barely suppressed hostility towards Jane enters gradually here; her perspective becomes noticeable in the repetition of ‘so cold, so cautious’ and the following exclamation mark. ‘There was no getting at her real opinion’ must then be Emma’s point of view, and the parallelism of ‘was disgustingly, was suspiciously reserved’ is a further sign of her growing irritation. In the next paragraph the process by which Emma thinks herself into her wild surmise regarding Jane and Mr. Dixon is shown, again via FIT [free indirect thought]. Gradually she becomes more definitive, with the perception modality of ‘seemed’ leading to the declarative ‘It was all general approbation and smoothness; nothing delineated or distinguished’ and ‘It did her no service however’. Again the italicisation in ‘There probably was something more to conceal than her own preference’ suggests Emma trying to convince herself somewhat over-insistently, with her apparent certainty undercut by the epistemic modality in ‘probably’ and the subsequent ‘perhaps’ in ‘Mr. Dixon, perhaps, had been very near changing one friend for the other’. (p. 67)

The Scotch and the Irish, Redux

For Thorell Tsomondo, Jane’s presence in Highbury emphasizes the England/Ireland border: in the person of Jane, “in addition to the Highbury/Enscombe, Highbury/Maple Grove junctions, Austen also moves her reader towards another intersection: Highbury/London/Ireland” (p. 199). Jane’s reticence on the subject of her Irish connections is thus also Austen’s insofar as it “serve[s] her aesthetic and sociopolitical purposes”:

In seaming the Highbury/London/Ireland border, Austen draws our attention to the underlying fissure; she refracts attention, thereby, to the passing of historical time and those sociopolitical events that, again, address English geopolitics. Austen notes with a certain exactitude the distance between Enscombe and London (190 miles), Maple Grove and London (125 miles), and Highbury, we gather, is half-a-day’s ride from the cultural, political, and economic center. Yet, in referring to Ireland, Miss Bates must recollect and index whether this geographical space is a different kingdom or a different country [vol. 2, ch. 1 (19); p. 102]. This difference is a significant register in her conversation as she attempts to intuit the spatial and emotional distance between the Campbells and their daughter. By implication this register also accents the spatial as well as ideological distance between London and Balycraig and, coactively, between London and Dublin. (ibid.)

Footnotes

On FID in this passage see also Roulston (p. 74).

Discussion Questions

What is the significance of the repetition of the word “tiresome” in Emma’s descriptions of people in Highbury? What does she comprehend in the offense? What is the relationship between Miss Bates’s general “tiresome” nature and the specific “tiresomeness” of her speech about Jane?

Does Jane Fairfax’s dialogue support Emma’s impression of her as “suspiciously reserved”? Are we given a different opinion of her through her own speech than through indirect description?

How do you think Jane is likely to have taken this encounter with Emma?

Bibliography

Austen, Jane. Emma (Norton Critical Edition). 3rd ed. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, [1815] 2000.

Bray, Joe. The Language of Jane Austen. London: Palgrave Macmillan (2018).

Rawson, Claude. “Showing, Telling, and Money in Emma.” Essays in Criticism 61.4 (2011), pp. 338–64. DOI: 10.1093/escrit/cgr018.

Roulston, Christine. “Discourse, Gender, and Gossip: Some Reflections On Bakhtin and Emma.” In Ambiguous Discourse: Feminist Narratology and British Women Writers, ed. Kathy Mezei. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press (1996), pp. 40–65.

Stokes, Myra. The Language of Jane Austen. Houndmills: Macmillan (1991).

Tsomondo, Thorell. “Temporal, Spatial, and Linguistic Configurations and the Geopolitics of Emma.” Persuasions 21 (1999), pp. 188–202.

[abusedsanderssides]

“You look delicious tonight”

Trigger/content warnings: Abuse, unsympathetic/abusive Remus, rape, cursing, eating-out, whips mention, injuries, kidnapping, chains, not a happy ending, hickeys, skinning and cannibalism mention. Let me know if I should add any more.

Ship(s): Background platonic Analogical (if you wanna make it that, it’s kinda up for interpretation.)

Characters: Virgil, Remus, mentions of Logan and Patton.

2644 words

Prompt: "You look delicious tonight."

Not requested

- 5/19/21

Virgil shivered on the cold floor, in nothing but a thin, oversized, and torn-up t-shirt and a pair of boxers. He curled in on himself, desperately searching for warmth on the freezing concrete.

Every inch of his body ached. Bruises, cuts, bandages, and dried blood scattered his skin. His hair was thinning and falling out, skin dry and cracked, eyes bloodshot. He was sure that some of his bones were broken, not being able to heal without proper care. Virgil looked like he was insane, and he was starting to question if he was.

He hadn't slept in who knows how long. Days, weeks, it was all just a blur. He had no way of telling time so he didn't know what the date was or what time of day it was. After all, he was locked in a basement with no windows, pitch black except for the small amount of light that came from under the door to go upstairs.

Virgil often heard things. Something scurrying across the floor, water dripping, hissing, and he couldn't tell what was real or what his mind made up, playing games with him. Of course, he could hear faint yells, thuds, crashes, and manic laughter coming from upstairs occasionally. Virgil could also hear when the door opened, the whips that would land on him, chains attached to his body, skin slapping skin, and deep breathing when he came to visit Virgil.

The door handle twisted and opened the door, shining a bright light down on Virgil for a second. He squinted his eyes at the light so he didn't have a chance to look around or behind the door. The stairs creaked as a person stomped down them with heavy footsteps. The footsteps were heading towards Virgil, getting closer until he could faintly see shoes in front of his face.

"Hello, Virgil," It was Remus, he could tell by the voice. Virgil flinched when he spoke, as it disrupts the silence he had been sitting in for a long time. His breathing started to slowly speed up and he tried his best to crawl away from the very intimidating man standing over him. Remus crouched down and Virgil tried to get farther away from him, but Remus interrupted, "Hey," Remus grabbed Virgil's arm tightly, causing him to whimper, pulling Virgil back towards him before continuing, "Get back here."

Remus sat down cross-legged and pulled Virgil to him, hugging him tightly, Virgil's back against Remus' chest. Remus leaned down and started sucking hickeys into Virgil's neck, biting down and drawing blood. Remus grabbed Virgil's bruised and damaged wrists, conjured rope, and tightly tied his wrists together. Virgil whimpered quietly at the pain in both his neck and wrists, wanted nothing more than to disappear.

Virgil hated Remus and what he did to him. He liked the dark, cold, empty, loneliness of him being stuck in the basement more than he liked when Remus would come down. Why couldn't someone come to save him? Janus has to know about this, he lives upstairs with Remus. But Virgil knew no one would save him. No one cared, loved, or even liked Virgil. That's what Remus told him. They probably didn't even notice that he'd been kidnapped. He just had to accept that he was going to die here, wishing that it would happen soon so he didn't have to feel this pain anymore.

Once Remus had covered Virgil's entire right side of his neck with hickeys and bite marks, blood slowly spilling from some of them, he was satisfied. Virgil let out an inaudible sigh of relief, hoping that Remus was done, but he knew better. Remus leaned down and whispered creepily into Virgil's right ear, "You look delicious tonight, sweetheart," then bit his earlobe. Virgil shivered at his words and quietness. "I could just skin you, chop off your limbs, and eat you right now."

Virgil's mind was running a mile a minute. Was he actually going to do that? Was he going to eat him? Then Virgil thought about eating food. When was the last time he ate? Virgil cursed his mind as his stomach rumbled.

Remus laughed his evil manic laugh and asked, "Do you like that idea?" Virgil's eyes widened as he tried to turn around in Remus' hold on him.

Virgil stuttered out before Remus could do anything to him, "N-no I was j-just thinking about f-food! I d-don't want you to eat m-me!" Remus laughed again, turning Virgil around so he was facing him, putting his face inches apart from Virgil's. Virgil's eyes were wide and full of fear, mouth slightly agape as he anxiously waited for Remus' response.

With a huge insane smile on his face, Remus replied, "How about we compromise?" Virgil stayed still and silent and when Remus didn't continue Virgil realized that he wanted an answer. Panicking, Virgil nodded his head, feeling immense amounts of dread immediately as he questioned what he just answered.

Remus huffed out a laugh, smile still plastered on his face and he raved, "Okay, so, I won't eat you, but I'm gonna eat you out!" Virgil's eyes grew wide and he stilled, like a deer in headlights, before shaking his head 'no' violently. Remus cackled, gaining Virgil's full attention before he threatened, "You agreed to this, pretty boy! No getting out now!" He paused, standing up before he continued, "Besides, even if you said no to the compromise, which you can't say no, I would've done it anyway!"

Virgil struggled to scramble away from Remus in the dark like a crab because his hands were bound, but Remus easily picked him up. Virgil screamed, wailed, pleaded, squirmed, struggled, but Remus had a tight grip. He brought him to the other side of the basement where there was an operating table, and when Virgil saw that he only struggled more, screaming and crying.

"Remus, please, no! Don't do this! Please! I'll do anything!" Remus ignored his protests, throwing him down on the table, growling at him to shut up as he tied his limbs down to the table.

"You're only going to make this worse for yourself if you keep squirming and FUCKING SCREAMING!" Remus yelled in his face, causing Virgil to flinch and try to curl in on himself, but found it impossible with the restraints. Virgil was sobbing uncontrollably, having an idea of what was to come, and he knew it'd be Remus, probably cumming multiple times.

When Virgil showed no signs of calming down, Remus went over to the wall covered in sex toys, whips, and weapons. Virgil saw him do this and tried to hopelessly silence his cries and growing panic attack. Remus returned, dagger in hand, and climbed on top of the table and over Virgil. He sat down harshly on the panicking boy's thighs, receiving a cry of pain from him.

"Maybe if I cut off your limbs this wouldn't be so hard!" Remus maniacally laughed, Virgil, shaking his head 'no' violently while sobbing. Virgil watched with wide eyes as Remus sliced down the center of his shirt, successfully cutting it in half and ruining the only source of warmth and covering that Virgil had. Silent tears ran down Virgil's face and Remus noticed how Virgil stopped moving, scared of getting cut, and Remus smiled wider.

Remus repeated this action with Virgil's boxers, ripping them off of his body. Virgil cried harder at the loss of his only comfort items and warmth in the freezing basement. Virgil shivered and closed his eyes as he felt Remus get off of him and stand up to strip himself of his own clothes.

"Please, Remus! I love you! Please don't this! I'm sorry!" Virgil weakly pleaded but he felt Remus climb up on the table and on top of him.

Remus scoffed, "Oh please, your begs just motivate me even more. Plus, if you love me so much you would want this so bad." Remus dragged out the word 'so', starting to untie the binds on Virgil's ankles. Virgil knew that Remus wasn't letting him go and just untying him so he could fuck him relentlessly.

But still, after Virgil's legs were free he helplessly tried to kick at Remus, being blinded by his tears and his legs failing on him. That resulted in Remus punching him in the stomach and spitting out with clenched teeth, "Stop moving." Remus picked up Virgil's legs and threw them over his shoulders. "You're only going to end up hurting yourself more."

Virgil gave up. His body was already tired and he couldn't go far, powerless against Remus. He felt Remus' dick prod at his entrance and start to push in. Virgil threw his head back and opened his mouth in a silent scream in agonizing pain. The stretch of Remus' cock burned, especially without lube.

Once Remus' hips were flush with Virgil's ass he pulled out and pushed in, giving Virgil no time to adjust as he started thrusting at a brutal pace. Tears never stopped falling from Virgil's eyes, his face screwed up in pain, and every muscle hurting.

"God, I wish I could eat you and still keep you alive," Remus growled in Virgil's ear, making him whimper in fear. Remus laughed at that, continuing with his thrusting. Virgil bit his lip in an attempt to silence his cries of pain, biting down so hard that he drew blood.

Remus noticed this, leaning down and grabbing Virgil by the throat. He forced Virgil into a messy and heated kiss, Virgil trying to escape. Remus pressed the tip of the dagger into Virgil's stomach, drawing a tiny bit of blood.

Virgil's eyes flew open, complying and kissing Remus back. He didn't want to get even more hurt, so he felt relieved when the dagger was removed from his skin.

Remus released his hold on Virgil's face and his head fell against the table, causing a big 'thud.' Remus's thrusts were getting sloppier as he neared his orgasm, pushing in harder and deeper. Virgil cried out in pain, feeling pleasure that he didn't want when Remus hit his prostate.

"Fuck," Remus whispered under his breath, thrusting into Virgil harder than he had been. Virgil screamed a cry when he felt Remus release inside of him, continuing with his thrusts until he was finished.

Virgil couldn't think straight. He couldn't really think at all. His mind was foggy and he was so overwhelmed. His anxiety didn't give a break either, thoughts running through his head. He hated this. He hated everything about his life.

This was why Remus never killed him. Remus knew how much pain and suffering he caused Virgil, and that was just entertainment for him. He also got to act upon his intrusive thoughts, and abusing Virgil became a coping mechanism for that. Remus didn't want Virgil to die, no matter how many times Remus caused Virgil to be minutes away from death. He needed him to stay. He couldn't lose Virgil. Remus knew he would get attached, and he was perfectly fine with that. Plus, a few more months and Virgil will realize that he's not getting out of this, and he'll give up.

Virgil had blanked out for a few minutes, snapping back to reality when he felt something warm and wet licking his hole. He sobbed at the realization of what was happening, and Remus found that amusing.

A tongue pushed into Virgil, licking his walls, Remus tasting his own cum. Virgil tried to bite his hand to silence himself but his wrist was still firmly tied to the table.

Maybe being alone in the dark and freezing basement isn't so bad. It's sure better than when Remus comes down.

Virgil just wanted this to stop. He didn't want to feel a tongue in his ass and a mustache pricking around his hole. He didn't want to feel strong hands on him and bruising his skin. He didn't want to be tied to this uncomfortable and cold-ass table. So Virgil did the only thing he knew would most likely work to get Remus to stop.

Virgil pushed his hips back, wincing when he felt Remus' tongue slide further into him. Remus chuckled, scooping out the last bits of his own cum out of Virgil's ass and then sitting up.

"Damn," Remus whispered, "you sure are delicious." Virgil squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to look at the grin on the man's face who was towering over him. Technically, and Logan would comment on this too if he were here, Remus' statement was wrong. He wasn't tasting Virgil, rather, tasting himself as it was his own cum.

Virgil tried to think of Logan. To think of all the fun they had. All the debates and deep conversations they would get into. All Logan's random facts and how he would ramble on about them that Virgil loved listening to. He really missed Logan. Virgil missed everyone. Hell, he even missed Janus, and he hated Janus. He wished he would just come down to the basement and save him from this torture that he was living in.

Hands were on him, Virgil's eyes opening wide to see that the binds on his wrists had been undone and Remus was picking him up, carrying him to where his ankle chain was. Remus lightly chuckled to himself before dropping Virgil on the ground, reviving a yelp and cry in pain from the smaller side.

Virgil's chain was quickly and swiftly locked onto his ankle, giving Virgil no time to escape. Virgil didn't even have the energy to try to escape right now. He just wanted to sleep. Preferably in clothes, but his clothes were on the other side of the basement and Virgil couldn't reach with his chain, and they also weren't very functional.

"See you later, cutie pie," Remus teased, heading for the stairs. 'Wait,' Virgil thought, thinking over and over again of how much he wanted new clothes. He gained up the courage to ask Remus, impulsively doing so.

"Wait!" Virgil called, wincing when he noticed he seemed controlling. Remus stopped in his tracks, slowly turning on one heel to face Virgil. "C-can I-I m-mayb-be h-hav-"

Remus cut him off, rolling his eyes and scoffing. "Quit with the stuttering, Anxiety. Just spit it out!"

Virgil took a deep breath, continuing and trying his hardest not to stutter. "Can I maybe h-have," Shit. "some new clothes?" Virgil asked slowly before quickly rambling, "I don't need them I just, y-you cut my other ones and I don't have any and!-" Virgil looked up at Remus, seeing a bored look on his face.

Remus thought about it before answering, "Hmm, I'll think about it. I'll think about it even harder if you're good. Got it?" Virgil quickly nodded his head, Remus skipping steps as he jumped up the stairs. He unlocked the door and opened it quickly, the bright light blinded Virgil, who shielded his eyes with his hand.

The door closed and locked, leaving Virgil naked and bleeding on the cold concrete floor. He felt like crying, but he had no tears left to cry.

Virgil was fine. He accepted the fact that this is just how it is now. This will be his life. There's no way out of this one. He'll die here. But still, Virgil found himself sobbing, wanting his old life back so bad. He didn't care if people were mean, he didn't care if he had to deal with Patton calling him cute and a kid, he didn't care about anything that had upset him. He just wanted this to stop. To change back to how it was, or die as soon as possible. And he had no chance at the first, so now he had to come up with a plan that would make him meet his demise and fast.

oh my fucking god this took so long to finish and post, but i really enjoyed writing it when i had the motivation to! i still have a few more wips but i'm still up for requests!! =P

[witcheswritings]

Rest in me

Summary: (Modern!AU) In the aftermath of a terrible accident, Hinata and Sakura struggle to start anew. 

Lenght: 3098 words 

Author: CireneMQ (Nohara-Cirene)

Translator: Rainbow.feathers (Rainbowfeather)

Fandom: Naruto

Relationships: Sakura Haruno/Hinata Hyuuga

Warnings: Descriptions of severe injury, descriptions of recovery. 

Disclaimer: This fanfiction was written as a commission for the very creative @wombatking who was kind enough to prompt us this beautiful idea! If you want to commission us anything don’t be afraid to ask!

September and the leaves lose their color by fall. In a tenuous way, as, little by little, the greenery gives way to ocher tones.

Intricate parallelism with reality that is not yet assimilated; the irrecoverable loss of everyday life and the illusions that take rot like leaves on the ground. Compost for pain, distant hopes that try to sustain the impending collapse of the will.

And the juxtaposition of effort and resentment, of resignation and denial.

Sakura leaves the hospital, withdraws from the care and the smell of antiseptic that for three months have kept her in a different world and now they’re part of a bubble that no longer exists. She returns to the real world with that involuntary feeling that she is living in a very long nightmare, but that sooner or later it will end.

During her recovery, she repeated herself that although it was all bullshit, life would be lighter when she finally returned home. She missed the fresh air, the school, her friends and Hinata.

Yes, her girlfriend had done almost the impossible to stay by her side.

During her stay in the hospital there was not a single day where she did not visit her, even with the pressure that Hiashi exerted on the schedule and mandatory activities for his first-born. Sakura, aware of the peculiar family situation, kept repeating to herself about how lucky she was to have her. There was nothing she could ask for that Hinata hadn't done for her. For that reason, seeing her waiting in front of the door was not at all surprising.

Hinata was there, with the kindest smile in the world and affection coming out of her pores..., and everything that Sakura anticipated that she would feel, the happiness of being free, of returning to "everyday life" with her, turned to bile in her throat; life was not lighter, the nightmare was not going to end.

She tried to smile, but the joy didn't reach her green eyes. Hinata understood instantly, trying to dilute her sadness in the subtle touch of her lips, a moment of tangible calm.

“Let's go home, Sakura.”

Suddenly the world turned upside down. Ordinary details became unrecognizable, from the drive home to sinking into the mattress; the air was different, smelled of cracked faith and a chaotic form of suppressed despair.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Well... it's not like I feel anything.” Vinegary smile that Hinata sweetened with the warmth of her own.

She arranged cushions behind her back, taking special care not to move her abruptly. Sakura gritted her teeth, annoyance stemming from the boredom of being treated with the fragility of a dry leaf, yet she said nothing. It was the truth, the plainly crude and revolting true.

The time, when "Sakura! Sakura!" was chanted by those who attend the soccer games and the adrenaline of scoring a goal ran through her blood, would never return. She was a brittle leaf under the sole of a world that was hers, but that no longer recognized her as someone capable of setting the pace.

Still in grief, she held Hinata's gaze and invoked the iron of her own character; she couldn't give up.

“My mom says the wheelchair they ordered has arrived. I'd like you to help me set it up, it'll be fun, don't you think?”

“Of course! Your strong lungs will do a lot...”

The months of hospitalization were filled with "solutions" to her situation, such as the new computer that, based on voice commands, allowed her to communicate with the world in the same way as she did before. Sakura's mother had taken the time to research all the rehabilitation therapies she could, including pseudo-sciences that promised fantastic results. Sakura agreed to practically all of them, even though they were mentally exhausting.

“I plan to go back to school, although I'm not sure how I'll do it. Mom has her doubts, and I don't want to depend on anyone for that.”

Hinata sat on the mattress, tilting her head and giving her a look full of tenderness. She had known her long enough to know that dependency was unthinkable for the usual Sakura, so she preferred not to pull that string. The Hyuga's hand raised to Sakura’s cheekbone to give her a sympathetic caress that said everything that the pink-haired woman did not want to hear in words; namely, compassion.

“Then, we will have to hurry up so you can handle that chair.”

However, things do not always turn out as you imagine them, Sakura would learn this as soon as her inert body was secured by the security straps to the device. What began with the excitement of starting over ended in tears and anger.  

Her lips were dry, and she was annoyed at the failed attempts to get the wheels to obey as Hinata, standing in front of her, urged Sakura to reach her.

“Blow again, Sakura. Remember; a loud puff is forward.”

“I know, I know.”

The lips formed an "o" again and stuck to the bulb. Instantly, the girl released the air forcefully and the wheels began to move, but again drew back as she took a breath before withdrawing completely.

“You have to inhale when you have already removed the mouth from the bulb, otherwise the reader interprets it as you want to go backwards.”

Her jaw was trembling. She had already memorized the theoretical instructions, but putting them into practice was something totally different, something Hinata couldn't understand as much as she wanted to. Sakura clenched her eyelids wanting to calm down, until the sweet voice of her girlfriend pierced her eardrum with the annoyance of a bell.

“Let's see again what the manual says...”

“I already know the fucking manual, Hinata!”

The girl's eyes widened, and she recoiled from her girlfriend's outburst. The anger was evident and even understandable. Sakura Haruno, the one who was a star and was always going a thousand an hour, tied to a chair and without the immediate patience to assimilate it. Hinata looked down and fiddled with her fingers.

“I'm sorry… it wasn't my intention.”

“It’d be better if you go home, I’ve had enough of feeling useless ... For today.”

“I’m really sorry, I…”

“Please, Hinata.”

Although what Sakura said sounded more like an order than to a request, Hinata did not add anything, except for the goodbye kiss that her girlfriend received coldly.

That same cold ended up keeping the girl awake until dawn, but it was the debacle in conjugated tears that each one kept in their respective beds, which encouraged them to do something for the other.

Sakura to apologize for her attitude, Hinata to change her empathy for the love that covers everything, even if she doesn't understand it.

With their hearts set on each other, they recalled the tragic events that led them to end this way.

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

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

The darkness was beginning to beat the light. It was getting dark, but visibility still revealed the silhouette of two girls playing next to the pier. Sakura and Hinata, with joviality and tenderness on the cusp of falling in love at their short sixteen, sitting with their feet in the water.

“I will do it! I'll swim to the rock and show you that I could also be the star of the diving team; I don't care what Ino says.”

In between stolen kisses from Sakura and laughter that was heard alongside the first crickets. Hinata was smiling softly, enjoying her girlfriend’s energy that used to fill her with warmth.

“You don't have to prove anything to me, plus you already know Ino.”

Sakura stood up, letting go of her girlfriend's hand. Her will and the desire to feel the adrenaline that conquering every challenge left her, led her to jump into the water and submerge to start swimming to the huge rock that was on the other side.

Hinata looked at her, while she shook her head at the audacity she manifested in everything. That was one of the things that made her fall in love with Sakura; the freedom she lived with. It was a pleasure just to watch her exist, an extreme fascination that the Hyuga couldn't ignore, just like that moment.

The mauve eyes watched her girlfriend's head come out every so often to take a breath, while the distance between them grew. At last, Sakura touched the rock with her hands and instantly turned to look at Hinata and smile at her. The damp feet began to help her climb slowly, making sure twice to hold on firmly to some protrusion and fitting her feet in every nook and cranny.

The effort ended when she was able to sit on the rock and then pull herself up until she was standing on it. Hinata narrowed her eyes, barely appreciating the movement in which Sakura blew her a kiss with her hands and lowered herself to jump.

Sakura, for her part, watched the dark water and her mind made quick calculations of how far she would have to push herself in order to rid herself of the bulging rocks looming below. It was at least five meters high, and the race would have to be sped up to go far enough and land at the proper depth.

She stepped back again, counting back five steps. Good thing the rock was big enough, otherwise no one would have the courage to run and jump, as she was about to do.

3, 2, 1…

The initial impulse was good, Sakura perceived it the same as when she started to run from three quarters of the field towards the goal. It was going from zero to one hundred in just a fraction, but she was more than used to that lift off. The floor was about to run out and with that she prepared to bend her knees a little and take as much momentum as possible in the last two steps.

However, when the right leg leaned against the edge of the rock, the moisture left by herself before, betrayed her in the most brutal way possible.

The foot slipped. Sakura's momentum was nullified and she violently rushed down. The worst of the case is that she already had her center of gravity positioned forward, just a fraction of a second before she slipped. The inertia did its job, Sakura fell headfirst into the water, while the last rays of sunlight allowed Hinata to watch the crash.

Hiashi's daughter's scream occurred as she threw herself into the water to go after her girlfriend. She was never the best at athletics, but this time she didn't give up. Her arms worked their way through the water, swallowing some liquid that she ignored in her desperation to advance.

When she finally arrived, Sakura was sunk beside the rocks, inert as a scandalous amount of blood swirled around them in the scariest landscape she had ever witnessed. She took her in her arms and dragged her so that her head could be in the open air, then she gave her the kiss of life and luckily, the pink haired girl responded promptly. However, what gave her some peace soon turned into a different nightmare.

“I can’t move,”

Hinata's screams overshadowed the crickets, the sound of running water, and the music of some friends who were also enjoying the first party of the summer. Immediately, several approached the lake in order to respond to her call for help.

The next thing Hinata could remember would be the blue and red lights and the sirens that beat her intermittent crying. Paramedics who with a grimace, revealed the terrible state of her girlfriend. Upon arriving at the hospital and after the respective medical tests, Mr. and Mrs. Haruno received the sad news.

X-rays and the subsequent tomographies as well as complementary resonances that confirmed what the doctors had already anticipated: Severe neck injury.

Fourth and fifth vertebrae fractured, with oppression to the spinal cord and consequent injury to it. Loss of mobility and sensation from the neck down, on top of what all of it entailed; paralysis.

The collapse of illusions and dreams. The severed wings of the young woman and the despair and fears that came with it... In addition, guilt on Hinata, the same guilt that brought her down in the hospital corridor when her girlfriend's mother explained the situation to her.

The debacle of a newly blossomed button and the broken heart of whoever witnessed it right before their eyes.

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

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

With the rays of the sun lighting up the sky, Hyuga left the comfort of the sheets to gain ground on all the tasks that her father overloaded on her shoulders.

She fulfilled this, yearning to make Hiashi change his mind and give her dreams a chance. The same dreams that, with what happened with Sakura, took on greater strength and filled her psyche with decision.

Hinata would be a nurse, she’d take care of people's lives with her characteristic tenderness, but she would spice up her courage with the strength that her girlfriend showed... And she would start immediately.

She changed her clothes to more decent ones and descended the stairs with renewed will. The sleepless night and the memories strengthened her walk and she tried to stay that way.

In no time, she was, once again in front of the Haruno's front door and they let her in with their usual kindness. If they had anything to be grateful for, it was the time and heartfelt support she provided for their daughter.  

Hinata knocked on the door of her girlfriend's room and the characteristic "come in" didn't wait, nor did she have to say anything before Sakura spit out the same thing that hadn't let her sleep the night before.

“Before you say anything, I need you to forgive me. Yesterday I was..., it's no excuse, but...”

“You don't have to say anything, I'm sorry to pressure you like that.”

“No, Hinata, listen to me...”

“I don't want to hear it. Just tell me what clothes do you want to wear, let's go out.”

Sakura frowned. Although she understood what was coming out of Hinata's mouth, she couldn’t digest the intention behind it, nor that firmness in her voice, something completely out of the ordinary in her.

“Go out? Where?”

“On a date.”

With more love than Sakura thought she deserved, Hinata took time to help her get dressed. As they did so, she kept talking about the activities she had planned to do together at school. Sakura's green eyes scrutinized her girlfriend's movements and expressions, her throat tightened in a knot and the feelings that threatened to break out of her orbs, condensed into tears.

Gritting her teeth, she drowned out the tears and blamed the sunlight for crystallizing her eyes. Hinata smiled, she knew she was hiding behind a lie, but she wasn't going to dig; she wasn't going to expose her.

“Alright, dear. Let's go!”

Ten minutes later, they were walking down the sidewalk on their way to the park. It was the first time that Sakura had transcended the world from her wheelchair and that filled her with an inhospitable vulnerability.

She barely spoke, the silence was filled by the banal comments of the other, in addition to the noise of the cars moving down the street.

The habit of going for an ice cream before taking a seat on their favorite bench, was a routine that both maintained as something sacrosanct, and this time would be no exception.

Hinata asked for two cones, the same flavors as always, the vendor handed them to her while looking curiously at Sakura in the chair. Hinata caught that and directed him her sharpest gaze, intimidating him with the hostility he perceived in her.  

She paid and turned around, suppressing the kindness that characterized her in order to teach a lesson to the vendor who was watching Sakura with that rude curiosity. But when she got to her, she realized that it would be difficult to maneuver with two ice cream cones and at the same time push the chair.

Sakura looked away, not wanting to see her struggle accommodating both ice creams in one hand and taking her to their bench with the other. Feeling humiliated, she endured the grief of the situation until they were both face to face; Hinata on the bench, Sakura tied to her hopelessness.

“Do you want to try mine?”

In a simple question, the pink haired girl broke down. She was not even able to eat a little ice cream on her own, something so easy and absurd became impossible in her situation and that was only the watershed for everything else that would come; school, life… Bullying.

People like the ice cream vendor, who were used to seeing her energetic and unstoppable, now looked at her like a freak. Sakura's sob could no longer be contained and Hinata could see in the foreground the cry of defeat and doom that split her girlfriend in half.

In another time, she wouldn’t have thought of having the emotional strength to give a word of comfort to anyone, she’d always considered herself as a nerd without charm, a crying girl who depended on everyone; weak, invisible. But since Sakura came into her life, her perspective on herself had taken a momentous turn. That pink-haired girl, with beautiful green eyes, had supported her when needed and taught her every day how valuable she was.

Hinata could never put into words her love for her or her gratitude for everything.

Sakura had built bridges of steel in between Hinata and her inaccessible willpower. It supported her in the fight for her dreams and diluted the negative feelings that stemmed from her father's continued disapproval.

Rising from the bench, she reached for one of the wildflowers growing in the grass. She knew she couldn't ease the pain, but at least she would try to give back a little of everything Sakura had given her. Hinata squatted in front of Sakura, filling her eyes and her smile with love trying to lighten the situation.

“It's going to be difficult, but I'm not going to leave you. I love you.”

With the utmost delicacy in the world, she brushed the cheeks bathed in tears, tracing the path of the salted drops that now trickled like a spring. Sakura paused at the feeling, stunned by her girlfriend's actions.

“Go ahead and get it out. I will hold you, you can rest in me.”

[newstfionline]

Wednesday, September 29, 2021

FBI Data Show An Unprecedented Spike In Murders Nationwide In 2020 (NPR) The number of murders in the United States jumped by nearly 30% in 2020 compared to the previous year in the largest single-year increase ever recorded in the country, according to official FBI statistics released Monday. The data show 21,570 homicides in the U.S. in 2020, which is a staggering 4,901 more than in 2019. The tally makes clear—in concrete terms—just how violent last year was. The overall violent crime rate, which includes murder, assault, robbery and rape, inched up around 5%, while property crimes continued their long-running decline and dropped 8% from 2019. But the spike in murders jumps out in the FBI report because of the sheer scale of the change. Jeff Asher, a data consultant who studies crime rates, said the increase is the largest since national records began being kept in 1960s. The homicide rate thus far in 2021 is up 10% from last year.

Haitians returning to a homeland that’s far from welcoming (AP) Deported from the United States, Pierre Charles landed a week ago in Port-au-Prince, a capital more dangerous and dystopian than the one he’d left four years before. Unable to reach his family, he left the airport alone, on foot. At least 2,853 Haitians deported from Texas have landed here in the last week with $15-$100 in cash handouts and a “good luck out there” from migration officials—many setting foot in the country for the first time in years, even decades. More than a city, Port-au-Prince it is an archipelago of gang-controlled islands in a sea of despair. Some neighborhoods are abandoned. Others are barricaded behind fires, destroyed cars and piles of garbage, occupied by heavily armed men. On Saturday, a local newspaper reported 10 kidnappings in the previous 24 hours including a journalist, a singer’s mother and a couple driving with their toddler, who was left behind in the car. Even before the assassination of President Jovenel Moïse a in July, the government was weak—the Palace of Justice inactive, congress disbanded by Moïse and the legislative building pocked by bullets. Now, although there is a prime minister, it is absent. Most of the population of Port-au-Prince has no access to basic public services, no drinking water, electricity or garbage collection. The deportees join thousands of fellow Haitians who have been displaced from their homes, pushed out by violence to take up residence in crowded schools, churches, sports centers and makeshift camps among ruins. Many of these people are out of reach even for humanitarian organizations.

Some Bolsonaro supporters have called for a military takeover of Brazil. Why do they wave the American flag? (Washington Post) On the day when Brazilians celebrated the nation’s independence, when thousands of protesters this month called on President Jair Bolsonaro to lead a military takeover of the country, a middle-aged man set out onto the streets of Brazil’s largest city, cloaked in the flag. The American flag. Wilson Gomes, 56, strutted down streets thronged by thousands of Bolsonaro supporters, the Stars and Stripes draped across his right shoulder, demanding radical change in Latin America’s largest nation. The time had come to do away with the Brazilian supreme court, which he said had been corrupted by a kleptocratic left and was unfairly targeting Bolsonaro and his supporters. The only way to save the constitution, he said, was to suspend it. At far-right rallies all over the country, where many have called for supreme court judges and opposition lawmakers to be removed, the American flag is now a staple. Supporters wear cowboy hats and belt buckles emblazoned with Texas longhorns. In a country that has more traditionally viewed the United States and its intentions with suspicion, the sudden appropriation of American symbols has exposed a political paradox at the heart of the Bolsonarista movement. A group that many here believe wants to subvert, if not overthrow, Brazilian democracy has chosen as one of its banners the flag of the world’s oldest democracy. “The Brazilian right and American have an agenda in common,” said Sèrgio Sant’Ana, president of the right-wing Conservative Liberal Institute.

Macron says Europeans need to stop being naive and assert independence from the United States (Washington Post) French President Emmanuel Macron urged Europeans to "come out of their naivete" on the world stage and assert their independence from the United States, sending one of the strongest signals to date that the diplomatic crisis prompted by a disrupted submarine deal could have long-lasting repercussions on transatlantic relations. Speaking alongside the Greek prime minister Tuesday at a news conference to unveil a major Franco-Greek defense deal, Macron said the Europeans should make themselves “respected.” “For a bit over 10 years now, the United States has been very focused on itself and has strategic interests that are being reoriented towards China and the Pacific,” he said. “It’s in their right to do so,” he continued, but “we would be naive, or rather we would make a terrible mistake, to not want to draw the consequences.” Macron’s latest remarks come as he appears to position himself as the next leader of Europe, an unofficial role so far largely attributed to German Chancellor Angela Merkel.

China energy crunch triggers shutdowns, pleas for more coal (Reuters) China faces mounting pressure to ramp up coal imports and ensure supplies to keep lights on, factories open and water flowing as a severe power crunch roils the northeastern industrial heartland. With electricity shortages sparked by coal shortages crippling large sections of industry, the governor of Jilin province, one of the hardest hit in the world's no.2 economy, called for a surge in coal imports, while a power company association said supply was being expanded "at any cost". News organisations and social media carried reports and posts saying the lack of power in the northeast had shut down traffic lights, residential elevators and 3G mobile phone coverage as well as triggering factory shutdowns. A utility in Jilin even warned power shortages could disrupt water supplies at any time, before apologising for causing alarm. The power crunch has taken hold as a shortage of coal supplies, toughening greenhouse gas emissions standards and strong demand from industry have pushed coal prices to peaks. Goldman Sachs estimated that as much as 44% of China's industrial activity has been hit by power shortages.

American siblings trapped in China under three-year ‘exit ban’ finally return home (Washington Post) China allowed two U.S. citizens, siblings Victor and Cynthia Liu, who were prevented from leaving the country for more than three years, to return to the United States on Sunday. Cynthia and Victor Liu are the daughter and son of Liu Changming, a businessman wanted on fraud charges in China. The siblings went to China in June 2018 to visit relatives but were barred from leaving, while their mother, Sandra Han, who made the trip with them, was detained. Their lawyers and the U.S. authorities described the move as an attempt to pressure Liu Changming into returning to China to faces charges—despite the siblings saying they had not had contact with their father in years. Victor and Cynthia Liu’s lawyer Marc Ginsberg told the New York Times that he believed a Sept. 9 phone call between President Biden and Chinese President Xi Jinping had “helped to break a logjam” and contributed to the siblings’ release. He added that the siblings would have no comment for the news media.

Japan to lift all coronavirus emergency steps nationwide (AP) Japan’s government says the coronavirus state of emergency will end Thursday so the economy can be reactivated as infections slow. Prime Minister Yoshihide Suga announced Tuesday that virus restrictions will be eased gradually. With the lifting, Japan will be entirely free of emergency requirements for the first time in more than six months.

Taliban issue no-shave order to barbers in Afghan province (AP) The Taliban on Monday banned barbershops in a southern Afghanistan province from shaving or trimming beards, claiming their edict is in line with Shariah, or Islamic, law. The order in Helmand province was issued by the provincial Taliban government’s vice and virtue department to barbers in Lashkar Gah, the provincial capital. During their previous rule of Afghanistan, the Taliban adhered to a harsh interpretation of Islam. Since overrunning Kabul on Aug. 15 and again taking control of the country, the world has been watching to see whether they will re-create their strict governance of the late 1990s. During the Taliban’s previous rule, the conservative Islamists demanded that men grow beards. Since being ousted from power following the U.S.-led invasion in 2001, shaved or cleanly trimmed beards have become popular in the country.

Violence in Nigeria (Foreign Policy) At least 34 people were killed in northern Nigeria following an attack on the village of Madamai in northern Kaduna state, state security commissioner Samuel Aruwan said on Monday, blaming unidentified assailants for the attack. The assault, which Aruwan said took place on Sunday, came the same day that 22 Nigerian security personnel were killed in an attack on an army base in Sokota state, also in the country’s north. In recent weeks, Nigerian states have introduced restrictions on residents in an attempt to stem the violence, attributed to so-called bandits as well as the Islamic State’s West African offshoot.

A Crypto-Trading Hamster Performs Better Than Warren Buffett And The S&P 500 (NPR) What if we told you there was a hamster who has been trading cryptocurrencies since June—and recently was doing better than Warren Buffett and the S&P 500? Meet Mr. Goxx, a hamster who works out of what is possibly the most high-tech hamster cage in existence. It’s designed so that when Mr. Goxx runs on the hamster wheel, he can select among dozens of cryptocurrencies. Then, deciding between two tunnels, he chooses whether to buy or sell. According to the Twitch account for the hamster, his decision is sent over to a real trading platform—and yes, real money is involved. Look, we’re not telling you to follow in this hamster’s financial decisions or that this process is scientific in any way. But what we can tell you is his portfolio is up nearly 20% since he started trading in June, according to his Twitter account. And as of Sept. 12, Mr. Goxx was performing better than Bitcoin, the Nasdaq 100, Warren Buffett’s Berkshire Hathaway and the S&P 500.

[autumnblogs]

Day 9: Troll Time

Time to get trolled.

https://homestuck.com/story/1527

This is the first of the events that I’ve noticed enough to talk about in Homestuck that alludes to the Alpha Kids. While Roxy on the other side of the scratch is the one actually responsible for the disappearance of Jaspers and the Pumpkins, at this point in the story, we have some pretty good suspects for exactly who disappeared both of them.

I could see myself guessing that Jade’s penpal is one of the trolls, but it wouldn’t be my first guess. I’m going to pay close attention to all of the events on one side of the scratch that are caused by the other side of the scratch, because my theory is that a Scratched Universe, more than anything else, is really terminated rather than truly being retroactively erased. Too much doesn’t make sense from a causal perspective (not necessarily from a temporally linear one) if a scratched universe is actually erased entirely, or even if it is closed off from the rest of existence - why can information enter and leave a Scratched Universe at all from an outside perspective, for example?

Are Side A Side B teleporters, appearifiers, and so on and so on, loopholes? Maybe it has something to do with the nature of Void, the Furthest Ring, and their seeming exclusion from the rules the rest of Paradox Space is required to follow.

The Doylist answer, which in Homestuck is also allowed to be the Watsonian answer, might be that while a Scratched Universe is *materially* erased, information about it is still permitted to propagate through narrative contrivances such as the author. Fenestrated planes can easily be considered narrative contrivances, but if we use this as our theory, it seems like Appearifiers and Sendificators would also have to be Narrative Contrivances (which I’m going to spell with a capital NC from here on out.) I... actually don’t have a problem with this hypothesis, so it’s what I’m going with. Also, since a friend of mine who’s reading this liveblog asked, I’m going to post a link to the tvtropes article on those two terms at the start of this paragraph for anyone who doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

Perhaps, given the proclivity for the Void to preserve lost information in the form of dreams and memories, and given the nature of Space as the medium through which events normally propagate (as well as the fundamental medium of storytelling from which all other storytelling mediums derive their medium-ness), and their proximity on the Aspect Wheel, Narrative Contrivances are objects which have are shared between these two domains - as objects associated with the Void, Narrative Contrivances are permitted to follow their own set of rules which to someone outside of the universe are obvious, but to anyone inside the universe are a complete black box, and as objects associated with Space, Narrative Contrivances function as a means by which to propagate information in such a way as to preserve causality, the logical topology of Paradox Space, and with them, the self-fulfilling nature of Paradox Space. They allow the world-line of objects travelling through the narrative to remain consistent, even when they would violate material geographical conventions.

This description of Narrative Contrivances makes me think a lot of things could be Narrative Contrivances, like First Guardians, for example, who can violate the speed of light.

This is all a lot of silly bullshit, but it’s fun to come up with theories to describe and predict Homestuck (and future Homestuck works, even though I’m not terribly invested in them.)

This has been a long Cold Open. More after the break.

https://homestuck.com/story/1529

John gets cyberbullied!

Man. Cyberbullying has really gone from being an individual concern to being an apocalyptic issue. Who knew? Maybe in writing the trolls and their cyberbullying as being inextricable from the apocalypse, Andrew Hussie predicted this.

I’m not trying to understate John’s issues by comparing them to stuff like massive social media disinformation campaigns - receiving Death Threats as a thirteen year old is terrifying, and on a general level, the fact that this kind of horrible shit was commonplace in the earliest days of social media should have been a big indicator that what was yet to come was going to be so, so much worse.

I’m also not trying to jocularly exaggerate the threat that almost completely lawless social media has on society. If you haven’t already, check out the excellent documentary The Social Dilemma, and then delete your Facebook account if you haven’t already (and since you’re reading my extremely anti-capitalist anti-patriarchy liveblog on tumblr, you’ve probably already done that. If you have, good for you!) And your twitter for good measure, come on, you know who you are. Mabe your tumblr too while you’re at it.

Cyberbullying is part of a larger theme in Homestuck, another one of those things that it’s Capital A About. As a work that is not only about growing up, but specifically about growing up in the information age, Homestuck is repeatedly about the ways that Social Media don’t just bring us together, but keep us apart from one another. Cyberbullying is one of the effects of Social Media pushing people apart - it’s so, so much easier to threaten to kill someone when you don’t have to look them in the eye while you’re doing it, and when you have the anonymity of a string of alphanumeric characters as a name to hide behind.

https://homestuck.com/story/1537

The Black Queen is a very bad woman. It’s always intrigued me that the Queens allow their counterparts’ agents free movement through their territory like this even on the eve (or the advent?) of full-scale war between their kingdoms. PM is just allowed to wander around Derse unsupervised.

I suppose that if even God and Satan can afford each other a bit of token civility while discussing the fates of sinners, so can Prospitians and Dersites.

https://homestuck.com/story/1542

@zeetheus​ John’s definitely proceeds Rose’s bluh.

Rose sips her Mom’s martini for the same reason that she later falls prey to alcoholism. Trying to grow up without help, Rose interprets the martini as a symbol of parental authority, the same way that she interprets the partaking of beverages in general as being a ritual of intimacy with her Mother. Empty signifiers.

https://homestuck.com/story/1549

Jack Noir’s grating voice is so outrageously distracting that it prevents itself as an intrusive thought in the Narrative for PM.

Actually, come to think of it, *all* of the Carapacians talk pretty much exclusively via narration. I wonder if that’s representative of an altered relationship with their narrative reality, which is the first time ever I’ve had that thought pretty much at all.

I always just chalked it up to one of the quirks of Andrew’s writing style, but especially when we take into account the fact that Homestuck is as metanarrative as it is, and that Carapacians are the only characters in Homestuck Proper who interface with the narrative prompt except for the audience, Andrew, and Caliborn himself, I can’t help but wonder. Maybe as living gaming abstractions, in spite of their limited intelligence and abilities, Carapacians have a unique relationship with the narrative laws of Paradox Space (perhaps in the same way that Narrative Contrivances do?)

https://homestuck.com/story/1569

Riffing a little more on the “Fetch Modus as analogous to thought processes” motif previously introduced, Jade’s excellent visualization abilities and vivid imagination serve her well as a Space Player, but tend to misfire, running wild, and seeing patterns where they don’t exist (intrusive thoughts make her see Johnny 5 in her Eclectic Bass and whatever the fuck mecha she’s about to accidentally imagine, I don’t know, I’m not a weeb.) Jade sure does think about robots a lot.

https://homestuck.com/story/1579

I have to say, I consider Terezi’s manipulative abilities to be genuinely pretty strong. I have never known a better way to strongarm me than by pointing out traits that I don’t know whether I feel good or bad about - it just terminates my thought processes.

Although in John’s case, it helps that he is, in fact, a weenie, a stooge, and most importantly, a nice guy. All these facts make him extra manipulatable.

https://homestuck.com/story/1584

<3

I have no reason to believe everyone in Homestuck’s universe isn’t stupidly badass, but I choose to believe that no one is as stupidly badass as the leads because it makes me happy to imagine that these kids are just ridiculously OP superhumans.

(That said, it’s kind of fucked up the level of violence that these literal children are involved in, maybe I shouldn’t get so excited about it. Should we be enthusiastic about the kids’ triumph over their dangerous enemies? Horrified by the travails they are being put through? Probably both motherfuckin’ things.

https://homestuck.com/story/1588

I think about this page a lot.

Rose Lalonde is a very dangerous young lady. She is ruthless, pragmatic, calculating, and cool. She’s even a killer, and literally just killed two imps before fighting this Ogre!

Why is she choosing to show mercy to it now? Is she just trying to get Dave’s goat? Maybe the answer is, deep down, she doesn’t really want to hurt anyone or anything.

https://homestuck.com/story/1589

Kanaya and Dave have a great relationship and I love them as friends very much. I wish dearly that there was more of them in the webcomic. They have approximately the same relationship with authenticity, which is to say that they don’t have an insincere bone in their respective bodies, but practice insincerity nonetheless to impress someone they care about.

For Kanaya relating to Rose, I think it’s a lot more innocent.

https://homestuck.com/story/1590

The least eloquent character in Homestuck has his brief, and I’m pretty sure only encounter with the most eloquent character in Homestuck.

Poor, poor Tavros. While Rose is pretty much always on this level, it seems a lot more innocuous when she’s talking to her friends, or the more mean-spirited and (relatively) competent trolls, the way she treats Tavros almost feels like bullying because of how obviously pathetic he is.

That said, he turns right around, and invokes exactly what’s coming to him. Y’know as much as Tavros is an authentic abuse victim and Vriska gaslights him into thinking a lot of the bad things that happen to him are his fault, there are a lot of times where he does stupid shit that invokes the justifiable wrath of the people around him.

https://homestuck.com/story/1592

While I could pontificate about the fact that Kanaya and Rose are my favorite couple, and squee enthusiastically, instead I will call attention to the fact that, by way of mixing her metaphors, Kanaya has been the victim of an authorial pun - she’s a Fruit Ninja. (Unless Fruit Ninja didn’t exist at the time of writing? It may very well not have.)

https://homestuck.com/story/1596

As the Page of Breath, Tavros sucks at communicating. Here, he sucks at communicating because in spite of his objectively pretty sick rhymes... he is talking to someone who just can’t be arsed.

https://homestuck.com/story/1602

This is one of those absurd moments that at first blush seems meaningless, but I think helps to decipher the kinds of things that John Egbert cares about. It’s one of the moments where he ritualizes an action that one of his heroes takes - John Egbert thinks that Nic Cage is cool, and wants to be like him, so he roleplays Nic Cage for a little while.

https://homestuck.com/story/1603

We’ve barely met the trolls, and they are *already* using the humans as a convenient method to troll each other instead of staying on task.

Karkat also establishes his love of RomComs before his introduction even rolls around.

https://homestuck.com/story/1618

Conceding ground to implacable enemies is generally the correct means to win in Homestuck, usually by getting them to destroy themselves or each other purely by their own unsustainably wicked or stupid conduct. Only a being as powerful as Lord English is sufficient to destroy the Significance-hoarding antagonist that is Vriska, as she threatens to overshadow everyone else in the universe by her own inflated self-importance. Only Vriska, so arbitrarily lucky, could possibly get into position to destroy Lord English. They were made for each other. They deserve each other.

One of my favorite dialogues in the whole comic. Man, I sure love Act 4. There’s something indescribable about the dialogue Andrew writes for this part of the comic. Homestuck at its best whiplashes from silly to scary to heartbreaking to heartwarming, and back to silly again, from beautiful to ugly, and I don’t think that even Act 5, as it piles up layers upon layers, well past the number of parts needed to make a whole, captures the essence of Homestuck as well as does Act 4.

Homestuck is different in every part, of course, and for everyone who says that Act 4 is peak Homestuck you will meet someone who says that Acts 1 through 3 were peak Homestuck, or who says that Act 5 was Peak Homestuck, or that Act 6 was Peak Homestuck. I do not mean to demean any portion of the work by saying that Act 4 is my favorite. The things I like in Homestuck the most are just the most themselves in this portion of the story.

https://homestuck.com/story/1627

I’m feeling less and less intelligent as I read more and more of Homestuck, because honestly, my theories read less like honest-to-god insights, and more like somebody who just wasn’t paying any fucking attention. Here, Jade spells out basically what I’ve been saying.

https://homestuck.com/story/1640

We’ll pause here for the evening. Reading was a little sparse today, but it’s a good place to leave off, especially since for some of these I wrote just stacks of theorizing.

Until tomorrow, Cam signing off, Mostly alive except for a bit of a cough, and not alone.

[browneyedhimbo]

I made it to 400 followers!! Again, I'm so grateful for each and every single one of you! I never thought I'd make it this far if I'm being honest. So THANK YOU and I LOVE YOU!!! ❤❤❤❤❤ To celebrate I thought I'd make a little writing challenge. You don't have to participate but I'd be awesome if you did! 

Rules (please read them all)

You don’t have to be following me, but that'd be very cool

Please reblog to help signal boost

Send me an ask or a message with which prompt you want along with the character. You can have AS MANY PROMPTS AS YOU WANT AS LONG AS YOU DO THEM ALL! (The same prompt can be used only twice) 

Tag: #Mels400challenge and @criminal-cookies

You can write for ANY Marvel, Star Wars, or Sherlock character as well as Actors/Celebrities

It can be any type of fic; social media au, drabble, oneshot, series etc (if it’s multiple parts/series it does NOT need to be fully completed by then, it just need to be submitted and in progress by then)

You can interpret the songs however you like (lyrics and/or tone)

Please let’s keep this APPROPRIATE (i.e nothing underage, derogatory, against will, inc*st, p*do etc) (I’m open to nsfw but please tag to warn people)

Add read more if it’s longer than 500 words please

Please tag accordingly and use trigger warnings!

Due date will be Cinco de Mayo, May 5th (fair amount of time so l can read them all)

If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask me or send me a message!!

For this challenge, because I’m latina and the due date will be Cinco de Mayo, if you would like to write in Spanish or incorporate anything of the hispainc culture I’m 100% okay and open with this!! Some songs might be in spanish (most of what I listen to lol) so if you would like to use the translation of english I’m all for it!

Dialogue Prompts:

“Well this didn’t turn out the way it was supposed to.” “You think?” (@aesthetical-bucky​ w/Bucky)

“Surprise, I have feelings and you just hurt them.” (@mushyjellybeans w/Bucky)

“If I tell you I love you will you make me pancakes?”

“Baby, please tell me you can explain why there is a hole through the window.” (@nekoannie-chan​ w/Steve or Rumlow) (@itsunclebucky​ w/Bucky)

“I hate that I still love you.”

“My biggest regret was loving you.” (@letstalkaboutsebbaby​ w/Bucky) (@asadmarveltrashbag​ w/Bucky)

“I wish I was wrong about you, but I’m not. I never am. Not when it comes to you. You haven’t changed at all. You never do.” (@constantaking​ w/Bucky)

“Donde hay humo, hay fuego.” “English.” “Where’s there’s smoke, there’s a fire. In this case, right behind you.”

“En boca cerrada no entran moscas.”

“Échale ganas.” “What?” “I can’t translate that.” (@godofplumsandthunder​ w/Bucky)

“There’s nothing sexier than a bomb suit, let’s be honest.”

“STOP BEING SO CUTE, IT’S NOT FAIR!”

“Hi, I’ve been subtle at hinting that I want your attention all day and you haven’t noticed once and now I’m pissed.”

“I’ll always be here for you.” (@disaffectedbarnes​ w/Bucky)

“I desperately want to take you out for dinner and slow dance with you until the sun comes up, but I also want to grip your hair as I watch you writhing underneath me.” (@yougottakeeponkeepinon​ w/Pietro)

“Every time I look at you, I think I fall a little more in love.” (@justmebeingtheweirdmeiam​ w/Surprise)

“You’re the only person I’ve ever actually wanted to spent the rest of my life with.”

“Don’t tell me you love me unless you mean it.” (@imma-new-soul​ w/Bucky)

“Is this movie too scary for you? You said the only things that scare you are capitalism and something called Mothman, which I’ve told you thousands of times does not actually exist.” (@tenderlybarnes​ w/PeterxMj)

“I’m getting a divorce” “WE’RE NOT EVEN MARRIED.” “How would you know?”

Movie Quote Prompts:

“No, (name), you are under arrest for being a complete and total fuckhead.” -Mac, Super Troopers

“Do I look like a cat to you boy? Am I jumpin' around all nimbly bimbly from tree to tree? Am I drinking milk from a saucer? DO YOU SEE ME EATING MICE?” -Foster, Super Troopers (@becausewhyknotme​ w/Sam)

“I live my life a quarter mile at a time. Nothing else matters: not the mortgage, not the store, not my team and all their bullshit. For those ten seconds or less, I'm free.” -Dom, The Fast and Furious

“We just went from the middle of the ‘most wanted’ list to the very top.” -Brian, Fast Five

“We have a hulk.” -Tony, The Avengers

“I’m with you til the end of the line.” -Bucky, CATWS

“Anybody on our side hiding any shocking and fantastic abilities they’d like to disclose? I’m open to suggestions.” -Tony, CACW

“I get emails from a raccoon, so nothing sounds crazy.” -Natasha, Avengers Endgame

“An idea is like a virus. Resilient. Highly contagious. And even the smallest seed of an idea can grow. It can grow to define or destroy you.” - Cobb, Inception

“You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger darling.” -Eames, Inception

Tagging who might be interested: @becausewhyknotme @katbtracy @imma-new-soul @justmebeingtheweirdmeiam @officialtonystarkprotectionsquad @theladyoffangorn @itsunclebucky @mushyjellybeans @writing-for-hours-on-end  @this-kitten-is-smitten @aesthetical-bucky @agentpeggybarnes​ @fangirl-introvert @ninjabucky @cosmicbucky  @wemisshim3000 @dianadov @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @ilovetomatoes3000 @sebbbystaaan @disaffectedbarnes @heyiamthatbitch @asadmarveltrashbag @thorfanficwriter @i-burnt-the-pages @babiiface95​ @letstalkaboutsebbaby​ @mypassionsarenysins​

[whorphydice]

Prompt: hades taking care of Persephone during a sick or depressive episode? (Like cooking for her, Washington her hair, bringing her water and medicine, and of course snuggles!) *aka an excuse for cute lovey dovey hades and Persephone!*

So..you wanted lovey dovey. This is just short and angsty I’m sorry.  Also It takes place in @hadestownmodern but is intentionally context-less. Feel free to assume/decide what the situation is. I sort of understand this on a personal level of something sending me into a full blown depressive episode, and decided to leave it readers choice what triggers this particular one for persephone! 

PLEASE send me your interpretations of it! I’d love to hear and discuss!

also: this google doc was entitled persephone depress-one

“Persephone..”

“No. Leave me be.” 

He found her like he always did. A tub full of water that went cold, lead leaning on arms that rested outside the bath, the only water on her face being streaks of tears. The water took a cloudy tint from the bubble soap settling. He could always tell it had been a while, with the way she was nearly unconscious from pure emotional exhaustion. And like always he wordlessly drained the water, scooped her up, and carried her to the bedroom wrapped in a plush white towel. 

It wasn’t frequent enough to warrant deep concern, but it was enough that he knew what to do to care for her. 

This time it came with the smell of wine on her, and an unusual lack of affection. 

“It’s not your -” He tries, pulling her into his lap expertly. And as he had many times before,his fingers found her hair and very easily began to braid. They were long and loose, with some curled tendrils out and framing her face. It wasn’t perfect, but it was always enough.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Persephone grumbled, resting her head on his thigh, though her expression was anything but present. She seemed fixated with a spot on the closet door, but to the trained eye she stared at nothing. She could look but saw nothing as she blinked through numbness. No more tears to shed, those were in her lonesome earlier. Now all she felt was an acute numbness. Nothingness. 

“You can go to work.” She isn’t sure if she means it to be cold and bitter or if she wants an excuse to be alone. To process and feel in peace. 

“Work can wait. I’m not going anywhere.” It isn’t up for debate with the way he says it, and the way he firmly tugs a blanket over her shoulders. She doesn’t move to acknowledge him when he kisses the top of her head, or when he slides out of the bed. 

She doesn’t quite sleep nor rest, merely maintains a state of nothing. Nothing- that was better than pain, was better than guilt.  She’s still staring at the same spot- at a white chip in the grey paint of the door. She doesn’t even realize time has passed until she feels the mattress dip behind her. 

You do this every time. He’s going to get sick of it one day, you know. Maybe find someone less broken even.

She registers, barely, the sound of a glass on the bedside table that is filled with water followed by the sound of porcelain on wood too. Food, of some sort. 

“It’s that garlic bread you like. When you’re ready, it’s there.”

He’s learned in the ten plus years they had been together that when she got like this- when this happened- to not push her. She could snap something fierce but he’d rather be on the end of her bite than see her like a kicked puppy in the corner of a room. 

He’s beside her in the bed, an arm around her middle as he pulls her in close to him. He kissed the back of her neck, inhaling the honey sweet smell of her hair. “I’m here, whether you want me or not.”