#i guess technically only the last bit of dialogue counts

[littlemisspascal]

twenty questions for fic writers

Thank you so much for the tag @kteague ✨💖

1. how many works do you have on AO3? - 55 (but technically, I listed out the chapters of Death and an Angel individually as fics before combining them in one altogether so the number's a little less)

2. what's your total AO3 word count? - 399,907 (again, a bit less cuz of reason above)

3. what fandoms do you write for? - Pedro Pascal mainly. Then the one fic for Melshi from Andor.

4. top five fics by kudos -

The Infinity Cube - multi-Pedro Pascal boys/Female Reader

Establish Ties - chapter of Death and an Angel

Together - chapter of Death and an Angel

Death and an Angel - Din/Female Reader

Mailroom Crush - Javier P/Female Reader

5. do you respond to comments? - Usually yes. Though sometimes life gets hectic and it takes me a bit.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? - I don't really like unhappy/angsty endings so...hmm...I guess Bitter Ends Turn Sweet in Time cuz it's kind of an open-sorta-hopeful ending?

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? - Infinity Cube's pretty dang sappy if I do say so myself. Also Love Triangles has a really sweet ending too.

8. do you get hate on fics? - In the past I got told my fics weren't worth reading because there isn't smut in them. And a few times I've been told they didn't like the endings of certain fics, that it would've been better and more preferable to them if I'd done X, Y or Z. But lately since engagement's been down across the board, the hate's been gone too.

9. do you write smut? - If I do I write it as non-graphically as possible. I call it flowery writing, just pretty words strung together to get a vague picture across. Like in Before. When. After. or Into the Blue

10. craziest crossover: - I haven't written a crossover 🤔 but I mean, my Reader character literally travels the Pedro multiverse in Infinity Cube so maybe that's kinda sorta close?

11. have you ever had a fic stolen? - Not that I know of

12. have you ever had a fic translated? - Nope

13. have you ever co-written a fic before? - Me and @beecastle have teamed up before on a few fics. I'm a lousy writing partner tho. Very slow and picky so bless Bee for putting up with me

14. all time favorite ship? - I have so many otps. GhostSoap is very big for me at the moment tho <3

15. what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? - The Last Mandalorian comes to mind. I have notes and notes and notes for that fic, but between my brain fighting me and also, like, 1% interest from readers it just doesn't seem like a likely goal to reach.

16. what are your writing strengths? - I don't really have any noteworthy ones

17. what are your writing weaknesses? - Too many to list here

18. thoughts on dialogue in another language? - No problem with it. I do prefer though where somewhere in the fic, either in parentheses afterwards or at the notes at bottom that it says what the meaning is because I'm lazy and don't wanna google it 😅

19. first fandom you wrote in? - Mandalorian

20. favorite fic you've written? - They're all faves in different ways. But...Before. When. After is special to me--not just cuz it's my only non-Pedro fic, but I think there's lines of writing in there that are some of my personal best 😊

Non-pressure tags: @kyberblade @wheresarizona @wardenparker @mermaidgirl30 @morallyinept

[invisiblewille]

20 questions for fic writers!!

How many works do you have on Ao3?

12

What's your total Ao3 word count?

233,384

What fandoms do you write for?

only young royals so far but i've been thinking about writing for another fandom lately too

Top five fics by kudos:

Gold and Silver

The Frog Prince (unfortunately lol)

Honey, You Look Like Gold to Me

Lost in the Sauce

Bronze

Do you respond to comments?

yeah, unless they're super weird or a response to my response i guess

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

The Last Dance was MCD and most people sobbed while reading it so... i guess that one. Most of the rest of mine have happy endings even if they're super angsty in between

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

What exactly is the "happiest ending" lol... idk i guess in terms of like payoff maybe Bronze? I really don't know lol

Do you get hate on fics?

I've gotten a bit of stuff that's made me feel bad/upset on Thou Wilt Whisper, "No Pang Shall Be Mine" but not really, no

Do you write smut?

depends on the story but yes. I have a lot without it though too. I try to make sure my stories don't need it and that I'm not using smut to cover up a weak plot

Craziest crossover:

Jesus Christ x Wilmon (/hj)

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

no but Mano was joking about stealing one of my fics the other day lmao bc I was thinking of changing something in it

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yeah, I think gold and silver was translated into Russian? I don't remember but I think so

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I beta for some friends but I'm not huge on co-writing bc my work style is so odd

All time favourite ship?

I actually prefer reading rwrb Alex and Henry fics oops but I guess Wilmon is still technically my favorite

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i have one on Ao3 that I abandoned but I have no desire to finish it. But I do have a trans simon canon rewrite in my docs that I wish I could finish, but I just don't love writing canon no matter how much I try. I'm an AU writer through and through

What are your writing strengths?

sadness, making people cry, imagery and metaphor maybe, and symbolism? and angst but ya know...

What are your writing weaknesses?

I use "as" too much and also sometimes don't use enough names

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

i try to stick to English these days, but there are times where i think it can work in fics

First fandom you wrote in?

young royals. I don't think I ever wrote in my previous fandoms. I think I only ever made art.

Favourite fic you've written?

Thou Wilt Whisper always and forever. Like I love a lot of my fics or they wouldn't be posted, but that one truly means so much more to me

Stole this idea from @glassdollls thx bestie

[the-ravening]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you @zsparz and @six-demon-bag for tagging me! ❤️

1. How many works do you have on ao3? Only 12, because I am a baby writer.

2. What's your total ao3 word count? 86k

3. What fandoms do you write for? Winterbaron, or more accurately, Zemo/everyone

4. Top five fics by kudos: Let's do a top 3, since top 5 would just be like half my fics.

Something Sweet to Eat (142 kudos) Extremely underage Halloween fic, bunny boy Zemo shows up trick or treating at Bucky's house Adopt, Don’t Shop (123 kudos) Omegaverse, bratty teen Zemo is for sale at an Omega kennel and Alpha Bucky goes shopping Gift-Wrapped (113 kudos) This was the first fic I ever posted (just a few years ago) and I'm still pretty proud of it. Just a silly Winterbaron rimming PWP, but it's hot

5. Do you respond to comments? I try to, I always mean to, but I think I'm a bit behind right now. I know there are some amazing comments on Home to Me from last year that I still haven't replied to and I feel bad about it all the time.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Probably Under Lock and Key (what a mess we’ve made), the Heinrich/Helmut Zemo dadcest fic I wrote for @ex0rin where I followed her hurt/no comfort philosophy of leaving him on the floor crying.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I don't know if I really do happy endings? I have PWPs where the happy ending is they both come, if that counts. 😅 Let's say... Ink Kissed (with violent precision) where tattoo artist Bucky gives his client Zemo a dick tattoo, and Zemo ends up quite happy with the tattoo as well as the rest of the service.

8. Do you get hate on fics? I've only gotten one or two of the world's mildest hate comments. I guess my ships are sufficiently niche that no one cares about them.

9. Do you write smut? Yeah! Do I write anything other than smut? No.

10. Craziest crossover: I've only written one crossover, A Suitable Course of Treatment, Bucky Barnes/Laszlo Kreizler from The Alienist, which isn't crazy at all because as we all know, Laszlo has Zemo's face. (If it counts, I once started a Dir en grey x Sailormoon fic where the band members magically turned into Sailor Scouts, but I did not ever get far on it.)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes, the aforementioned Adopt, Don’t Shop was co-written with @violenciorp and @tales-from-a-maphia-don, because Vio lovingly bullied us into it, despite me and Mel ostensibly not being into Omegaverse.

14. All time favorite ship? I've jumped ship a lot over the years, but it's gotta be Winterbaron, since this is the ship that finally got me writing and posting and getting really involved in a fandom.

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? The first serious attempt I made at writing in this fandom was this teen Zemo necrophilia thing, and I wrote the necro part but none of the plotty stuff leading up to it. I still dream of finishing it, in an abstract way where I have no motivation to ever work on it.

16. What are your writing strengths? I think I'm pretty good at rhythm and flow and making my prose sound musical? That's something I focus a lot on and I tend to read aloud while editing to make sure it sounds good to my ear.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Probably plot and dialogue, and figuring out how to include technical details of things I know nothing about. But most of all procrastination, my arch-nemesis.

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language? I personally avoid it, because I find it annoying to have to look up the translations in the middle of reading. I prefer to just say they're speaking in whatever language but write the dialogue in English.

19. First fandom you wrote in? J-rock RPF in the early 2000s, but I mostly just did a bit of RP and never got far with any fics I started.

20. Favorite fic you've written? Sometimes it feels like every new thing I post is my new favourite, haha. But I thiiiink my fave has been Something Sweet to Eat since I wrote it (the Halloween fic mentioned earlier), because it's probably the most self-indulgent thing I've written to date. I am truly the main audience for that fic and I'm very happy with it.

No pressure tagging: @violenciorp, @tales-from-a-maphia-don, @thepiper0fhameln, @ex0rin, @unlikelymilliner, @evenmyhivemindisempty, and anyone else who sees this and wants to join in!

[diodellet]

So many good options for the art appreciation asks but let's go with 3, 4, 13, 14 and 27.

hi hi ner! thanks forda qs!! these are all prettie incharestinge!! (<-girlie who didn't know she'd be Yapping-Yapping)

3. and 4.) Go to [fandom] tag and reblog some art you like that has under 100 notes ++ Go to the art tag (or similar) and reblog some art you like that has under 100 notes

noted, i will undertake this mission with great care 🫡🫡

13. What are your go-to Ao3 filters?

ok i have a confession, i used to be a sort by word count++completed works only++exclude crossovers-kinda person 🤧🤧ANYWAY that was changed, now i only really exclude chat fics (ahaha,,,,theyre not really my go-to genre, like sure they're amusing but i read a really good one once* and it ruined every other chatfic for me)

*this one's for u haikyuu-natics, esp team captain stannies

hm.... i'm not super-duper picky so most of the time i can just scroll through each work's summary and tags.

but if a fandom is popular (or if i dont have the spoons for sifting through works), i stick to just reader inserts HAHAHA, maybe oc x canon if there haven't been any new x reader fics and if there's rlly nothing oough ig i have to write her myself 😭😭 sometimes doe, the curiosity strikes and i'll try looking if there are any fanfics in filipino... i really find it interesting to see how a chara's dialogue reads if theyre speaking in tagalog (tbh i think one would have more luck finding filo socmed aus on twt? but i only know about haikyuu socmed aus)

14. Best fanfic tropes ever?

oH...there are too many... u can't make me choose the best out of all my faves that's unfair 🥺jk lol

i read* this jamikali fic (i like my ships with a bit [read: a LOT] of tragedy/disaster-ness to them. it's so so so compelling to read!) and i just love the "Dubiously Unrequited Love" tag. bcs yes, the feelings are technically mutual, but there is a whole slew of other factors keeping the relationship from being a thing, which it could be a thing, but there's also that awareness that it won't last, sometimes a couple doesn't have to be endgame for the love to mean something, ykw?

this entire oneshot series....has me in a chokehold... my introduction to "Non-Sexual Intimacy" (and "Non-Sexual Nudity" i guess?) like??? holy shit??? the tension?? the way op just encapsulates the poignancy of being in such a vulnerable position without teetering too much into the cliche of roëmænce it has me On My Knees!! (like i love my smut and romance cliches, but some days i jus want a liiiitle bit more spice and variety)

Shoutout to the "Unreliable Narrator"++"Ambiguous Ending" combi that reaaaaally makes you work for understanding the plot, idk how to word it but being able to leave Just Enough Breadcrumbs and having enough trust in your readers to Get what ur implying, also forcing me to reread the fic immediately is so foul (in a good way). like there's an enjoyment in a good satisfying read, and then there's the Itch of never being sure in your interpretation, the feeling that u just need to go over it another time, spot another detail u missed, get wrecked all over again, rinse and repeat. idk i love fic.

27. If someone wanted to make you a creative gift, what's the thing that would make you the happiest?

oh anything featuring my fave charas is sure to make me happy! i mean i'm just not super picky abt gifts. well, maybe a creative gift has to be smth that can last a long while? (a strong hoard-ability kaya idk im senti??)

as long as the thought and intent was there, i'm already happy enough🥰💕💕 but i guess in the context of getting fic gifted to you, probably what matters most to me is that the writer enjoyed the process of making it as well. (i'm kinda drawing off of my experience writing this fic for one of m'oomfies and the vdays drabbles*** so i could be just rambling who knows?**)

(art appreciation ask questions, please bug me to rb some underrated art and fic)

[variousqueerthings]

Just the old favourites...

AND IT'S THE DAY OF THE DOCTOR! there's four "of the doctor" titles in a row at the end of this, which I will forgive, because the specials back in what 2008? 2009? were also basically about the Doctor, and this is the end of Eleven's era (one episode left after this and we meet Twelve!!!) so yeah, go on, make it a bit Doctor-centric I gueeeess (but maybe a little less?)

anyway, how do we do with the whole... Doctor thing?

sexism rank objectification (female character is ogled/harassed/turned into a sex joke by the doctor and/or a lead we’re supposed to root for and/or the camera): 6/10

sexism rank plot-point (lead female character is only there to serve plot, not to have her emotional interiority explored, or given agency to her emotional interiority): 3/10

interesting complex or pointlessly complex (does the complexity serve the narrative or does it just serve to be confusing as a stand-in for smart, this includes visually): 5/10

furthers character and/or lore and/or plot development (broader question that ties into the previous ones, at least two of these, ideally three should be fulfilled): 10/10

companion matters (the companion doesn’t always have to be there, but if the companion is there, can they function without the doctor– and overall per season how often is the companion the focus or POV of the story): 4/10

the doctor is more than just “godlike” (examines the doctor’s flaws and limitations, doesn’t solve a plot by having it revolve entirely around the doctor’s existence): 2/10

doesn’t look down on previous doctor who (by erasing or mocking its importance, by redoing and “bettering” previous beloved plotpoints or characters, etc.): 5/10

isn’t trying to insert hamfisted sexiness (m*ffat famously talked a lot about how dw should be sexier multiple times, he sucks at writing it): 4/10

internal world has consistency (characters have backgrounds, feel rooted in a place with other people, generally feel like they have Lives): 5/10

Politics (how conservative is the story): 3/10

FULL RATING: 48/100 (if I can count….)

it's got... some points. I am a big fan of Gallifrey being back on the map! I am really into the final bit from Tom Baker appearing until the last little speech. but I don't think most of this hangs together as a coherent narrative, as such. let us peruse

OBJECTIFICATION: considering how many female characters are in this episode, Osgood, Clara, Kate Stewart, Bad Wolf Interface, and Queen Elizabeth, it does remarkably well for a M*ffat penned episode. however. you can guess who suffers a bit -- surprisingly not as much as I'd remember: It's Queen Liz of course (although actually her issues come up more related to this eras ongoing Stuff around authority, and how she interacts with the Doctor)

Elizabeth, you see, is in Looooove with the Doctor, which is the thing that's going to be the single most annoying pervasive plotpoint in RTD's era. she's kind of ditzy about it, even though she's actually capable elsewhere in the episode, and she's introduced in this sort of romantic outing with the Doctor (who's doing it to out her as an alien, which she isn't)

it's not the worst, considering how this character has been described throughout nu!who, but it's also very eye-rollery

BUT WAIT! there's also the Bad Wolf Interface, played by Billie Piper, whom I'd technically be happy to see, and who does pretty well with what she's given, but...

The War Doctor, burning his hand: The interface, it’s hot Bad Wolf Interface: Well I do my best

this isn't massive, I know I know. and technically this is neither Rose nor The Bad Wolf, however... never were these characters portrayed doing this kind of dialogue. the Bad Wolf is kind of a manic pixie dream girl at times, and it irks a bit. it's not massive. but it irks.

PLOT-POINT: Clara is doing plot shit, and not much else. Queen Liz is a joke B-plot point really. Kate Stewart, noooow ok she's got some opinions on things, some things I want to circle back to, but not on this point (but the main gist is, to what extent is Kate Stewart actually an antagonist). Osgood, I'd say, comes out of this the best, she's got a neat little arc with her Zygon self, which I believe carries on into later episodes

and then there's the Bad Wolf/Moment. I quite like the Moment, actually. I think the Moment as a being + a weapon is interesting. Dunno if that much is done with it on the whole (but that's the next point down). I acknowledge that because the Interface has the face of Rose Tyler/The Bad Wolf, I'm treating it like a female character, which may be flawed thinking, but fuckit, onwards, the Moment is a plot device/Macguffin type, because the Moment has no motivations, it just is, and was introduced in this episode in order to give an object around which the Doctor could make choices. and happens to look like the Bad Wolf, but strangely even that doesn't really matter (we'll get to that)

COMPLEXITY: sOOOooo this plot is kind of a series of best-ofs smooshed together. remember the Queen Liz jokes? well, here's the story behind that. remember the fez? Allons-y, Geronimo, making fun of appearances and quirks, check check, Tom Baker (being fabulous), Billie Piper, and... it's a 50th anniversary, it's fine, I get it, but I wish it wasn't so "this happens and then this happens because this is what we need to happen and then this happens..."

and I do like the ending, even though getting to it is very messy

I kind of wish a few elements had been stripped back or entirely away, so one could zero in on some emotional depth, because while there are some great moments (Ten being the Doctor who's always counting deaths, and Eleven being the Doctor who refuses to look at them is a highlight), it moves too fast for you to breathe and take a lot of it in

take, the Moment as Bad Wolf, love it, and they do timey-wimey handwavey you'll forget all of this, so it doesn't totally fuck around with Rose just being an ordinary girl that the Doctor met, but there's this bit where The War Doctor says "oh bad wolf girl I could kiss you!" and she says something to the effect of "you're going to" and Ten goes something like "I'm sorry did you say Bad Wolf!????"... and then we move on

not that this is Ten's episode, but you brought back Billie Piper and not a single little emotional beat of Ten realising that the Bad Wolf in some way is still looking out for them (or hell, Eleven having that beat too, it's not like they're not the same character)

the Time War is the big sufferer of this though. I know it's described in books in a truly terrifying time-fucked-up Eldritch Gods type way, and what we get is a handful of scenes of explosions and screaming citizens (are they Time Lords or just locals? I don't know enough lore to know the details on how many were Time Lords), and this recurring shot of laughing kids around a maypole. what's with the maypole, idk, it's like a symbol for childhood innocence or something in this

if it had made a choice to not actually show details of the Time War, for example, a lot of that could have been left to the imagination and there could have been a different - more affecting - way of portraying the Doctor's Choice. I'm a big fan of the counting the dead as concept, for example, it says something about both Ten and Eleven

also not sold on every single Doctor suddenly beaming away Gallifrey, it's doing a lot of heavy lifting without much explanation about why it should work. a lot of rushedness to get to one single point

CHARACTERS/LORE/PLOT: ohhh well this is the gamechanger for the plot, the shift in gears. no longer a story about someone who carries the guilt of an entire dead civilisation, it's now the story of someone trying to find their way home

it's very much a Doctor story, the Doctor interacting with the Doctor

however there is also UNIT. we've reintroduced UNIT this season with Kate Stewart (daughter of Lethbridge-Stewart), and a "science first" approach. IIIII am not so sure about it all, considering she was ready to Blow Up London, and yeah, that was halted for a second, but for now there's been no follow-up on that first intention

since I'm watching Classic!Who next to it, I notice that the Third Doctor isn't working with UNIT so much as he needs to be there, because there's nowhere else to go, and is frequently trying to curb their worst instinct, and the Brigadier is frequently the face of conservative reactions to the unknown. the Doctor at this point likes him (and also insults him), and I'm sure they'll be going through some relationship stuff in the future

but crucially UNIT's a delicate balance, and maybe kiiiind of in this iteration to, considering Kate Stewart's "blowing shit up" plan. I'm kind of wary of UNIT as uncomplicated good guys, which they weren't at that point, and could be delved into much more. also UNIT feels very... British, in a colonialist sense. there's discomfort there

COMPANIONS MATTER: Clara helps them out a couple of times, but she takes a backseat in this one, untiiiil she basically drives the moment to change Time War History. I feel so bad for her as actress playing a character, because we're given so little, but she's presented as 1. knowing all of Doctor history due to being in their timestream and being "born to save him" and 2. saving Gallifrey from destruction by talking the Doctor out of it???? it's so left-field and not really connected to who she is in the narrative (that is, the narrative struggles to place her in it unless it suddenly needs her). I really like Clara, I don't like what the narrative does with her

“GODLIKE” DOCTOR: this has soooooo much handwavey "the Doctor does stuff because the Doctor can," and in a way it's something I'm like "fine because I also want that narrative of returning to Gallifrey and everything that comes with it" but... I do think there's a version of this story that could have done more to complicate the Doctor, but of course that's a lot to ask of a M*ffat type of Doctor Who

the depictions of Time Lord society are also... look I just don't think M*ffat knows how to do epic particularly well. he tries and it's mostly a bit silly. lot of talking and "trust me this is so cool"

PREVIOUS DOCTOR WHO: oof, this one is... hard to parse. some of this is great. some of this annoys the hell out of me, it really depends on where you land on super special girl of all time the Doctor <- when portrayed as such -- I personally wish that something would complicate this story a little bit, and not just pull classic!who back in order to recontextualise it for new canon that I'm not sure is good enough for it

I really liked the Tom Baker cameo, but I just am not a fan of making previous Doctor Who actually about this Doctor Who. it's a thin thin line to cross over, and not one that can be done by smashing it with a hammer, and M*ffat is a hammer-smasher

that being said that last speech, with all the Doctors, big fan!

ALSO they played both Rose's theme and Martha's for some reason. why would you do me like this???!

“SEXINESS”: well, you know what everyone really missed with Ten? it was a woman grabbing his face and kissing him without his consent, because it's very funny and he's clearly uncomfortable. this happens Three times with the same character (queen Elizabeth)

also a bunch of hints from Eleven at Ten that this is all so very sexy and the like bla bla

there's also a screwdriver-comparing dick joke between Ten and Eleven.... Ten I'm sorry you would never!

INTERNAL WORLD: eehhh bit all over the place, but not as much as has been in M*ffat stuff before, which may just be that most of it has been set up before. there's UNIT, there's the Time War/Gallifrey (if very simplistically portrayed), and Elizabethan Timez. could be worse, could be better

POLITICS: Someone! Take! Authority! Figures! Away! From! Doctor! Who! by this I mean the continued glorification of Monarchy and Churchill and military we've had throughout this era, fuckn stop!

make these stories about people that matter! I note in this episode how little of it focuses on people doing shit, and is just about so-called Important People Doing Shit. the most we get to an ordinary person with real stakes in this is Osgood, who is also UNIT (and has Kate Stewart's phone no-less). yes Clara is... there, but she's there to witness the important shit

it takes the Doctor away from the sphere where we actually relate to them, and into the "actually I only worry about the hobnobs and the important things, the little picture the little person is not the Point"

I think that's what this episode suffers from the most. it's floating away in a balloon with nary a character, setting, or Theme to properly ground it, with the exception of that final bit: "At last I know where I’m going, where I’ve always been going. Home, the long way around."

FULL RATING: 48/100 (if I can count….)

and here we are, one episode from the end of Eleven's era, and it's an average M*ffat rating. bit of a mess, but with an actual good teaser at the end there for once!

I like Osgood, think UNIT has the promise to be compelling if handled correctly, and of course I'm into the Classic!Doctors fanservice. I think Ten is written somewhat to the left of actual Ten, there's some bullshit political stuff as a continuation from M*ffat's bullshit political stuff, and the Time War is presented as a bit... simple on the whole

gosh I didn't even mention John Hurt??? JOHN HURT!!!!! he's really good actually, he sells the weariness excellently and brings the Doctor down a peg from All Awe-Inspiring Heroic Being to just some guy in a bad position. John Hurt also had two of my favourite lines, first mistaking Ten and Eleven for companions (they get younger all the time lol) and then when realising they're the Doctor: "You’re my future selves? Am I having a midlife crisis?"

the interaction between the three Doctors is often very good. Eleven about Ten's Tardis: "It’s his grunge phase. He grows out of it"

ANYWAY

we're nearly there folks!

[galactic-glamour-girl-posts]

Things I'd like to see in season 3

Slight Spoilers Ahead!

--A callback to "A Pinky and the Brain Christmas" in "How The Brain Thieved Christmas". Nothing too big, I want the two-parter to do it's own thing and not be a rehash, but it's hard to imagine that there wouldn't be a reference to it given that the reboot often references events that happened in the first show and the PatB spinoff. Maybe reveal that Brain still has the globe keychain, something like that.

--If Slappy does indeed return (and it seems like she will), for Slappy not to be softened. Not that I think it will happen, but this is their first time writing for Slappy in the reboot, so I expect her characterisation will be at least a little different. Which I'm fine with as long as they don't change her morality. I say this mostly because the last time she had dialogue was Wakko's Wish, but she felt a bit too mellow in that. She's not like the Warners who, while I won't deny often act in self interest, do tend to help people in their own zany, annoying way ("La La Law", "Hooked on a Ceiling", "Magna Cartoon", etc). Slappy, on the other hand, only really looks out for herself and Skippy, and can be way harsher because she lacks their moral code ("The Sound of Warners"). This is the same woman who tried to blow up up a critic's house whilst she thought he was inside all because he didn't think she was funny and threatened to blow up a jury if they didn't vote her not-guilty on a crime she technically did commit...and then when they did she blew them up anyway. Not that she's never justified, she keeps to herself often only does this type of thing in retaliation (the previously mentioned jury were clearly biased against her), but still, let her be mean and violent!

--Assuming Slappy comes back, for them to include Skippy. He was already in "Good Warner Hunting" and was shown to still be a kid, so aging him up isn't an option, meaning he's either gotta be left out or be re-casted. I'm really hoping they just recast him, there's no need to write him out just because his original voice actor is no longer a child. I don't like it when characters are written off or killed off just because their original voice actor can no longer do the voice, it feels unnecessary to me. If Slappy is on her own then fine (because let's be honest she's the one we watch her segments for), but Skippy brings out the best in her, I think he should be there.

--More Scratchansniff in general, but specifically him acting like a father towards the Warners (in more than one episode). Nothing too cutesy, the Warners will always find ways to stress him out, but I much prefer it when he's attempting to take care of them.

--Hopefully a satisfying ending to Julia's story, but given that they didn't know season 3 would be the last when writing this season, it's not likely. Not their fault if this one doesn't happen, I'd be happy enough to see her return.

--A FULL WAKKO SONG. Multiple Wakko songs actually, that would be great. I do prefer the other two Warners over him but they each have multiple songs in the reboot whereas Wakko only has one so far-"Gruesome Ol' Gruel"...and it's like 50 seconds long. I think he deserves more (Yakko got four in season 2 alone!) Scratchansniff has more songs than Wakko in the reboot so far. Granted, he didn't sing much in the original series so it's great that he sings more here, but him getting more new songs than a main character is kinda weird. Well, I guess you could count "Hot Washed Buns", but I don't (that one's even shorter than "Gruesome Ol' Gruel" anyway). I think this one is likely, season 1 focused a lot on Dot and season 2 focused a lot on Yakko, so maybe season 3 will do the same for Wakko!

[themirokai]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged in this by the incredible @pellaaearien . Thank you so much, dear! I really did start working on it when you tagged me and have picked away at it ever since. It’s quite long!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

49

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

122,560. I write short things.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

In chronological order I have written:

BBC Sherlock- Mystrade only

James Bond

Doctor Who

Star Wars

Person of Interest

Arcane

Cats the Musical

Sandman

In theory I’m open to writing in any of those again and any others as the inspiration strikes.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

5 - Worship (Sandman, Dreamling), also received the comment that inspired my first tumblr post to breach containment.

4 - Who He Is (Mystrade), my first fic on ao3 besides the ones I moved to the Other Account. I’m a bit surprised by this honestly. It’s got age on its side but my writing has improved a lot since then. It reads as a bit clunky to me now.

3 - Loverboy (Sandman, Dreamling + Matthew the Emotional Support Raven), first time I brought my 2 Sandman series together and my first multi chap Sandman fic.

2 - The Century Gentleman (Sandman, Dreamling), I got this written and posted pretty soon after the show aired when there was a massive demand for Dreamling content and before there was a tidal wave of content to meet the demand. I have mixed feelings about it now.

1 - Sort It (James Bond & Sherlock crossover, 00Q + Mystrade), fills the niche of “Q is a Holmes brother” + fluffy Mystrade. I do still really love this story.

5. Do you respond to comments?

My rule is that I do. And I’ve generally been very diligent about it. But I burnt out a little while writing Grave and I currently have an embarrassing number of unread comments in my ao3 inbox that I keep telling myself that I need to respond to…

So if folks have commented on my stuff in the last month or so, I’m very sorry I haven’t responded.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Sequenced Proposals. No contest. Look, the character is terminally ill in canon and it’s a lawyer AU so it wasn’t going to end with him becoming a cyborg. I cried a lot while writing it. Apparently a lot of people cried while reading it. Technically he’s still alive when the story ends.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

With the one notable exception discussed above I pretty much exclusively write warm, fluffy, occasionally funny stuff. They pretty much all end happily. I am a quokka of fan fiction.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven’t! Someone called me a bitch in a Sequenced Proposals comment but even though we had never interacted before, they meant it positively.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Not on this account. 😏

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I’ve written 2: Sort It, as mentioned above, and Dreaming of Leverage, which is a Sandman & Leverage crossover. I’d say the latter is crazier.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nooooo. And I can’t see ever doing it. Writing is very much a solo activity for me.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

I can’t pick a favorite. I adore every ship I’ve written.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I will probably not finish Law School Days. I know how the story ends and that’s good enough for me and no one was clamoring for it. I still like to think I’ll finish Lonely Two-Legged Creatures some day.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I’m good at dialogue, especially dialogue in which characters talk about their feeeeeelings. I guess I’m also good at emotional intelligence in stories. And creating the warm & fuzzies.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plot and description. I almost exclusively write very short things because I am incapable of plot that would carry a longer story. Also, if I’m being honest, one of the things I like about writing fan fiction is that I don’t have to describe what anyone looks like or sounds like! Y’all know that already. But I do get the flop sweats if I have to describe someone wearing clothing that is not a t-shirt and jeans.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I wish I could! More than 15 years ago I was basically conversational in Spanish, but now I’m functionally monolingual. I do appreciate when people who do this provide translations.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

As a kid, before I knew what fan fiction was, I wrote at least 100 pages of what was essentially OCs in Mercedes Lackey’s Valdemar. The first fandom I intentionally wrote and posted fic for was Mystrade.

20. Favourite fic you've written?

Can’t do this, sorry. There are some of my stories that no longer resonate with me the way they did when I wrote them, but they’re in the minority and of the rest it’s impossible to pick a favorite.

Phew! That was a lot. Whenever I tag people in these I always say no pressure but really and seriously this time there’s no pressure and you don’t need to tell me why you’re not doing it. Just ignore. ALSO, if you’ve already done it and I missed it, apologies! With that said @once-in-a-blue-moon-rising @lavenderandvanilla @ml-nolan @mashumaru @ibrithir-was-here @karalynlovescake @stormofsharpthings @argylepiratewd

[wjbs-aus]

Since this is having a resurgence kinda,

Reblog for a larger sample-size or something? Or not. Your call!

Context for each below.

Back in, like, 2016 or something, the Secondary School I was at did lifeguard training as part of its PE curriculum; one of the activities involved was rescuing a hollow plastic dummy. When it was my turn, I grabbed it, but it suddenly filled with water, and I was suddenly dragged to the bottom of the pool; eventually I managed to let go of it, and I was allowed to sit on one of the benches next to the pool for the rest of the session.

Last year, around Halloween, my dad randomly phoned me up and asked if I wanted him to buy me an axe or scythe from the Halloween section of Tesco. I said I wanted a scythe, and he bought it; it was very plain, and consisted of a hollow plastic tube and a simple-looking, poorly-moulded blade that slid over the top. It eventually got pretty badly-damaged, and my brother - in a fit of sleep-deprived impulsiveness - secretly bought me a cooler, much higher-quality one (the blade is actually a skull wearing a mask with a long "beak" attached to it!)

Technically, I don't have all the Skylanders figures I got when I played, since at least one is still at the flat I used to live in, but otherwise I have all of them. Also I only had Giants, Swap Force and Trap Team; I missed out on playing Spyro's Adventure, and I only had a Wii at the time so I couldn't play most of the games after it (except for Superchargers Racing, which is literally just the racing minigame from the fifth game but released on its own).

Play Hard Reset. Do it do it now. It's short, kinda frustrating at times and has questionable writing and voice-acting, but the aesthetic is really cool and it has an interesting mechanic where the player only has two weapons, but can unlock different modes for them that effectively mean the player has ten. I haven't played much of Hard Reset Redux, but it seems to be the same, but balanced a bit better and with much better dialogue.

I got into ZScript late last year, but I've got pretty good at both the inheritence system and making original stuff (which is technically jus the same as using inheritence, but you have to define everything yourself.

I can't remember exactly when this happened, but it was around either Halloween or Christmas (since Nightmare Before Christmas was on TV) and possibly in 2018; I made myself a cup of tea, but didn't notice that the kettle had limescale remover put into it (aside from the colour being a bit off). When I started drinking it, I immediately spat it out, and since then it's been known in my family as A Thing I Did Once™.

I love Sea Power! They make good music! Check out Let The Dancers Inherit The Party, it is their best album in my opinion!

Yep, done this one. Haven't finished Quake 1's second expansion and I'm only on, like, map 2 of Quake II, but I've played all of Quake IV's story campaign. Also, if it counts, Quake III's "singleplayer campaign", which is just a series of increasingly-difficult bot matches.

When I got Reaper one of the first things I recorded was a scream, which coincidentally ended up being a scarily-good impression of the headless bombers from Serious Sam.

A while ago, I tried playing the Game Boy Advance version of Bionicle Heroes with an emulator, since I wanted to check it out; when I tried playing it with VBA, it crashed on the second screen, and while another emulator (namely No$GBA) allowed to, I had to make a DS4 controller-profile specifically for use with it, since it wasn't registering my inputs properly with my regular one. Eventually I just bought a Bionicle Heroes GBA cartridge online so I could play using my DS Lite.

Anyway here's the new scythe.

This picture physically hurt to take, like I had to lean really far back and stretch my arm really far out

[applepi00]

20 questions for fic writers!

Tagged by @chubsthehamster

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

26!

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

139,299!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Bungou Stray Dogs, Haikyuu, and Trigun lately, but if you go back far enough in my fic career you’d find Hetalia, Black Butler, Doctor Who, Soul Eater, and who knows what else I’ve forgotten.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

First Scar, Rough Nights, Last Young Renegade, Wish You Were Here, and Time Enough.

However if we ask instead what my favourites are it would have to be:

All My Love (Bungou Stray Dogs, fem soukoku, boarding school au, soulmate au but a bit to the left)

When the Sun Goes Black (Bungou Stray Dogs, soukoku, canon divergence, the one where Corruption leaves Chuuya blind)

this masterpiece will (tear you apart), (BSD, soukoku, canon divergence, the one where Dazai gets kidnapped and traipses through alternate realities)

Wish You Were Here, (BSD, soukoku, the one that splits from canon after Dead Apple and Chuuya wrestles with Arahabaki in his psyche. Yes I’m aware Arahabaki isn’t canonically sentient or sapient but look I wrote this before we knew that for sure and also it’s a fun concept)

and Where is your heart in all this, Nicholas? (Trigun, Vashwood kinda, the one with attempts at a dom/sub thing, attempts at care taking, and absolutely no attempts at real communication on what anyone actually needs or wants.)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, always! I love the community aspect of sharing things online and I absolutely adore when people talk to me about the things I’m already vibrating over.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Uhhhhhhh probably Home With You since it’s about a twenty year old dying of a degenerative disease but to be fair most of my work is angsty and picking an angstiest is likely up to interpretation and perspective. (In other words let me know which one you would call my saddest if you have an opinion!)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

See I don’t really do happy endings in much of a traditional sense, but I’m gonna say Perfect Disaster. They get their shit figured out in that one!

8. Do you get hate on fic?

Not any that I recall!

9. Do you write smut?

Not this year I haven’t but generally yes I do!

10. Do you write crossovers?

Nope, haven’t touched crossovers in any sense really since I was twelve, they just never really were my jam.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Technically yes. However it was never posted anywhere and I would massively overhaul it if I ever did try to get it out publicly.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

I feel like I’m obligated to say soukoku lol, who else has taken up seven years of my life?

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

Let’s be honest, probably the other two parts of Tell Me Pretty Lies. My sister wants the Kuroo/Akaashi fic but it just was not working when I tried it and it’s been years now since I’ve written haikyuu.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Internal dialogue I think! Thought processes and poetics, I think there’s often nice bits of cadence and rhythm to my work!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plot. I very rarely plot out fully and more often than not write without any plan at all, or only a vague outline of one. So anything requiring heavy lining up is often not there as much as I’d like. I’m a very go with the flow sort of person when it comes to the specifics in fics (which is funny because I can control everything in fic, but the only time I plan and plot consistently is in ttrpgs when I have to guess at what my friends will do)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

If you do it well it’s a tool, if you do it badly you seem a fool. I use it on occasion, and I use it often in live play roleplaying, but time and place and reason.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I think it was Black Butler back on ye old Wattpad but my sister insists it was Inuyasha since my “original fiction” as a kid was heavily ripping off my favourite anime at the time of writing it.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Answered kinda above but honestly I’m really still so fond of When the Sun Goes Black, and All My Love/Nothing Ever Counts. I feel like my prose was just really very good in those!

Tagging: @feralrookie @macavitykitsune @valoniel @doomedblade @blindblossom @nautilusopus and anyone else that wants to

[morathicain]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers!

Thank you for tagging me @inrainprose :D

Here we go! ^^

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Currently at 227 on Ao3, which might change any day with how obsessed I currently am with writing for Kiseki XD Also have a few on animexx and fanfiktion.de from old old times which I probably should start transferring ^^°

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

1,120,354 so far which I'm quite proud of, especially since most of it was written during the past 4 years (3wbf be thanked)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

A LOT! I constantly write for 3wbf and then whatever I am watching (whether it be show or movie that inspires me). Some fandoms appear more often or reappear after months or years again, others just once and then never again. Lots of niche stuff though (either the show or topic) XD

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Wait what (My Engineer - RamKing) with 737 kudos

Mutual anything (KinnPorsche AU - KinnPorsche) with 7 chapters and 700 kudos

One Moment to adore you (My Engineer - RamKing) with 649 kudos

Now you know (Not me the series - SeanWhite) with 608 kudos

Loving you on my second thought (My Engineer - RamKing) with 536 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Absolutely, YES! I've met some of my best friends through comment-discussions and -talks and I also wanna thank the people who take the time to show their appreciation <3

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh ... PHU! Good question? I guess it would be "One last call", a JynCassian fic which of course ends with them dying?

Or "I wish you were mine but I wasn't yours", a Bad Buddy fic which has Pran push Pat away?

(if anyone has other contenders in mind, let me know, my brain is a bit overwhelmed XD I don't count the BMF one because while it ends with a breakup, for me it's a hopeful ending)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I ... I don't know? I suppose each fic that has Ter and Mae and Phon alive and together should be considered a worthy contender for that question! And I love them all <3

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really. Got some when I started writing in English but I'm glad I managed to continue anyway ^^° only weird ones sometimes that are hard to interpret but are usually not meant in a mean way? I think?

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, I do. It always depends on the fandom actually. And ... I don't really know how to describe it but I'm usually not that explicit, I think? Lots of emotions are involved and I try to switch things up.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Probably the SPN One Piece crossover from over ten years ago? XD They were in a prompt I got, so I had to do it :P Otherwise the crossover between Manner of Death and My Engineer "It's all about the plants, babe" with King as TanBun's child. That was a lot of fun :D

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of? Fingers crossed and wood gets tapped!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yessssss! A few into Russian and French and a Cherry Magic one into Vietnamese ^^

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

So many years back. One with a friend, another with my brother, a crack one with another friend XD Not sure we ever finished any of those and it was fun back then but I don't think I can do it again ^^°

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

To no one's surprise at all it's Shin/Neo/Miw <3

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

So far the wips I really want to finish are still on my list. I fear I might not be able to finish the one 3wbf one or the The Player one because other shows and ideas get in between, but it's still planned!

16. What are your writing strengths?

I was told I'm good at yearning and banter? Definitely like diving into angst XD

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Long plots, I tend to get distracted and also lose myself in the technicalities v.v

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

If it makes sense, why not? But not if it should be understood by everyone and happens more often.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Inu Yasha! It's been a long long time since then XD

20. Favorite fic you've written?

You ask WHAT of me????? askdjbaksjbdakjsbd

I can't say for sure. Like, I enjoy my own atots bodyguard AUs often enough, I love my own version for Moonlight Chicken more than the show itself, I very much love my current collection for Kiseki because they've taken over my whole soul. So many favourites when it comes to RamKing and omg, don't get me started on my 3wbf fics!

Me and you, both of you is one of my faves when it comes to giving Shin/Neo/Miw a happy ending though and when it's about underappreciated fics, I had a lot of fun with is "Revenge is a dish best served dead" with Ter and Phon killing Thana as ghosts :P And one I am still happy about, even if it's an old one, is a High&Low one: A kitten's persistence

Tagging now (but no pressure): @ommited-miscellaneously @nevaehs @himmelsstern ;)

[mannatea]

Break Open the Sky, a Tales of Symphonia ‘fic (Chapter 12)

Current Word Count: 97,018 Summary: What kind of “Hero” of Regeneration would she be to leave an infant to fend for itself? Someone had to have left it here for a reason. The question was, of course, why? But as she lifted the little thing carefully into her arms, the motion reminding her of nights so far in the past, now, the why seemed almost tragically clear: this baby was of mixed blood. Chapter Summary: Raine makes the difficult decision regarding what to do with baby Rose. Pairing/Characters: Raine, Original Characters, will also feature Genis, Regal, and Sheena. Endgame is Regal/Raine. Extra Info: This is technically an Accidental Baby Acquisition story, but I liken it more to “Doorstep Baby” literature because it sure ain’t cute. Rating: Mature, for themes. Genre: Eventual romance, gen, family, character study.

The title is the link to Ao3 for Chapter 12! (This is the next to last chapter!)

Notes are under the cut!

I thought this chapter was totally fine until I went to read it again yesterday and I hated so, so much of it. It felt awkward and stilted in places, and I swear characters were logic leaping to kingdom come in the dialogue.

Anyway, after rewriting half of the damn thing yesterday and today, I hope it passes inspection.

--

Sara as the secretary: I pulled this name from the RP that I did with an old friend but I'm not sure if she made that up or if it's in the game. Either way, it's in this story now because my bestie is Sara and I think it's funny.

--

I hope someone noticed Raine's little bouts of jealousy lmao.

--

There's a tiny bit more about Sybak here, though all the big juicy stuff is slated for the sequel, which I still haven't finished outlining. (I did get pretty close though.)

--

Finally, Raine's decision. I don't recommend reading this section if you haven't read the chapter yet, but if you want to read it anyway, who am I to stop you?

WARNING: This got really long and meanders a bit. SORRY.

Throughout this story, I've tried to make a serious effort to show the ways in which Raine cares for Rose, but also the ways in which she just...doesn't. There is resentment there. There is unhappiness. If Rose was her biological child, you'd think she had Post-Partum Depression. She takes care of the baby, but it's rarely written in a tender or sweet way. At one point in the story I even had Regal note that she seemed to do things automatically, almost without thinking about the fact that she was doing them. She has moments with Rose that are sweet but these were meant to feel like outliers and there aren't enough of them to balance the times in which she just kind of mindlessly takes care of her.

I don't count the sailing experiences against Raine, by the way; she did her best on the ship to Altamira, and on Regal's sailboat she was dealing with a lot (and he was there to help).

I do feel with time, she probably would grow much more attached to Rose, and love her more fully, but none of that would come without a cost, and...we've seen a glimpse of what that cost is.

Keep in mind that when I was outlining this story, Lila and Marcie didn't exist, so...the only company Raine had during the day for those months in Altamira was Rose! In this outline, Raine was torn between very badly wanting her life back, and also finding it difficult to go back to the way things used to be. It's also important to note that Regal really did not want to influence her either way in the original outline. This is mostly because he had grown rather attached to Rose but knew his opinion SHOULD not matter.

The romance between Raine and Regal was a lot more important in the original outline too. I doubt anyone would have guessed that because it's such a centerpiece in the finished product, but the original outline had gems like this in it:

-she's trying very hard not to love him (there are just SO many reasons why she's not good enough, but she's also very afraid of getting hurt). Like she knows he's a good man and any hurt feelings will just be of her own creation. still, watching the way he spends time with rose stirs something in her. -(she loves him already, feels like the incident at the party was her doing/fault because she couldn't keep a tight enough lock on her feelings when inebriated and regrets it, but still to this day can't quite harden her heart against him)

(In the original most of her attachment to Rose was formed through Regal, too, like watching him rock her to sleep when she just couldn't do it herself.)

With Lila and Marcie around, I didn't have to go into full on Yearning Mode and things were able to quietly and naturally develop between them with most of the yearning coming from Regal. Yay.

I s t r u g g l e d (AND I DO MEAN STRUGGLED) to decide which choice Raine would make in the end, even in the outline.

Just like in the finished story, Regal guides her toward a choice, though in the original outline he asks her more questions about Rose: if she wants to raise Rose to adulthood, if she wants to oversee her education, if she wants to raise her like a daughter and not a sister. His final question is, "Do you think you can love her?"

To which Raine says she already does.

This gave me two paths:

Raine keeps Rose because she loves her already and points Sheena toward the Crestfield Orphanage and the children there that kind of haunt her (in the original this was a group of 4 or 5 children instead of the brother & sister that ended up in the final draft).

Raine knows that Sheena will provide a better life for Rose than she can and gives her up even though it's difficult for her because she loves Rose.

I knew I wanted someone to adopt, but both Sheena and Raine were good fits for it, and it ended up being more about the kind of story I wanted to tell with Raine and with Sheena and "Found Family" and all of that.

There is a very real kind of love and trust in Raine handing over a baby she cares about to Sheena, someone she has had to learn to trust.

This is ultimately why I chose Sheena.

The original outline played a lot more, too with Raine's identity as a "parent" (particularly against her own will). Regal was originally going to tell her that while she did a good job raising Genis she does have an identity outside of that and if she wants to revisit it she can do that literally whenever; she can have her own biological kids or adopt and she can plan for it.

This also gets to the heart of some of Raine's larger fears in the original outline, which were eventual resentment toward Rose, and knowledge that the origin of Rose in her life could be negative in the future.

Anyway, especially in the version of the story I ended up writing, which included Marcie and Lila, I can't see Rose working out with Raine in a healthy or fun way. Like I said earlier, we got a glimpse of what the cost would be of keeping Rose, and let's just say that it wouldn't be pretty.

Raine thinks briefly in this chapter about her likely future doing physical labor trying to feed an adult, two growing children, and a baby, and you can chew on that for a while if you want to, but I didn't want to explore it. (She's suffered enough.)

--

My biggest annoyance with this chapter was getting Raine to actually make a decision. She's not a very impulsive person, so of course she'd want to think about it, but she's got a lot of issues to work through and no therapist to work through them with.

Regal's as good as it gets for her and he's not objective by any means. If you couldn't tell, he feels he knows what's best for everyone is giving Rose to Mizuho. He doesn't come out and say it immediately because he doesn't want to be That Guy.

But things sorta end up that way anyway, because Raine spends so much of the chapter stuck in a loop: struggling with feeling like she's following in her mother's footsteps by giving Rose away and fighting it almost desperately in her own mind. And to her own detriment!

Like, she's always been an incredibly responsible person; the fact that she raised Genis starting at age 11 makes that clear. I do think, however, that sometimes she takes it a bit too far and overreaches. Rose is perhaps an example of that. (She was definitely in over her head. But she was given responsibility?? What else could she do? Something something older sister Surface Pressure vibes.)

Obviously her capacity to care about others and do the right thing come into play here, right along with "saving the people right in front of us" but sometimes the right thing to do, the right way to save someone, isn't to take personal responsibility for them.

Raine was traumatized by her experience. Not only was she abandoned, but she was given responsibility of a literal infant at the same time. At 11 years old. She has a very hard time separating these two things and Rose feeds right into it in the worst ways. (It also wasn't the only time Raine has felt abandoned by someone in her life, so you can see why she'd feel so terrible about doing that to someone else, even a baby who won't remember it later.)

Raine knew all along what the objectively better choice was, but she couldn't choose it as long as she had other stuff in her head telling her she was being irresponsible/selfish/lazy/just as bad as her mother.

She needed someone else to tell her that giving Rose away isn't the same as her mother giving her up. She needed to hear someone else's voice in her head—not her own and not her mother's.

This was intended to sort of mimic Regal's line to her in the OVA where he says that surely her mother hadn't abandoned her, but rather...sent her through the Gate hoping Sylvarant would be a better life for her.

I hope Raine's cyclical struggle in her own mind came across believably enough in this chapter. (But if it didn't, feel free to criticize that, especially if you have ideas of ways I could have done it better.)

--

Now that Raine's decision has been made, there will be some emotional fallout. You can't learn to let go without some pain, after all.

So stay tuned for the final chapter to see that! :)

[singinprincess]

Last Sentence Meme

Rules: Post the last sentence of your WIP (and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence)

Tagged by @ariestess

“Lola?” Chelsea’s voice was small, but loud when compared to the silence. “You smell really good.”

Tagging: @alicesloane13 @foreveranevilregal @kendrickhier @shatterpath and anyone who reads this that’s currently writing something?

[storiesofsvu]

Classified Affairs Ch 23

Warnings: language, politics, mentions of smut, alcohol consumption, minor throwing under the bus. Some dialogue directly from HOC canon.

Iowa.

Iowa was somewhere that you’d never had the desire to go, or thought you would ever end up, but thanks to work, here you were, disembarking a commercial flight alongside Jackie, Remy, and a few of her other campaign staff. It was a quick ride to an upscale hotel where, as Jackie had prefaced, you were lead to adjoining rooms and given a little bit of time to relax. You started out by napping, enjoying the lush bedding and overly comfy bed before you pulled up your laptop, going through Jackie’s arguments for the next evening and working through what she already had that you wanted to edit or ask her about including. She had a couple of appearances set up for later that day, but you weren’t worried about those, they were just your regular smile, wave and shake hands type things. The debate was what you wanted to make sure you had ready, explored, and fully prepared.

It was still relatively early in the election timeline, this debate was between all three of the democratic candidates, Frank Underwood, the current President, Heather, and Jackie. You’d done a fast track of learning about Underwood, having met both him and his wife a few times over the last few weeks, and while he certainly wasn’t your cup of tea, he seemed to be the lesser of two evils from the last election. You obviously knew Heather was fucking ruthless, and you’d spent more than a few evenings on the couch watching Heather’s old court arguments (along with Underwood’s previous debates) to analyze their techniques and get your brain wrapped around what a debate with them would be like.

You’d done your best to set Jackie up for a swimming success, you weren’t too worried about her getting eaten alive by these two, it was the republicans that would go to fucking town on her thanks to her being so open about her sexuality. Though, you knew that if she pushed Heather’s buttons she could be looking into a firing squad, and you’d already included a few things that you were sure would do exactly that. Though you didn’t need to warn Jackie to keep them in her back pocket, for emergencies only, she’d been working with Heather for much longer than you’d even known her.

A small knock on the adjoining door broke into your concentration and you called out in return,

“It’s open!” You weren’t worried about Jackie having access to your suite so you’d left the door between your rooms unlocked to simply make things easier.

“Heard you puttering around and figured you could use this.” She greeted with a small smile as she moved through the room with a tray of coffee in her hand.

“My boss bringing me coffee? You are the best. Thank you.” You took the cup from her, relishing in the beverage soothing through you before you put it down on the bedside table, glancing down at yourself, “oh fuck! I am so not dressed, sorry.” You winced. Jackie laughed softly, her eyes glancing over you,

“Last time I checked sweatpants counted as clothes.”

“I guess I just mean I’m not exactly work presentable right now.” You started to ramble for a moment, instantly regretting changing for your nap, your hair was tied back and it was probably a mess on top of everything.

“You’re technically off shift, I don’t mind opting for cozy, even on the job. Believe me, if I didn’t have to wear heels every day I wouldn’t.”

“Guess you’re more lenient than other bosses.” You muttered and she chuckled.

“I’m not Heather….” She assured with a knowing look and you let out a sigh.

“I am…becoming more aware of that on the daily.”

“Speaking of…you wouldn’t happen to know what angle she’s pushing tomorrow, would you?”

“Not really.” You paused for another sip of coffee, “knowing I’m working for you has her pretty tight lipped about it, and it’s not like Becca’s spending any time around the house to eavesdrop.”

“I take it your friendship doesn’t extend to Jordan?”

“No.” You snorted, “I had to kick him out of the bar last week and ban him after he threw a pint glass into another guys face.”

“Jesus.” Jackie pinched at the bridge of her nose, “she certainly does have her hands full.”

“You’re telling me.” You rolled your eyes, “from what I’ve heard she’s gonna stay away from you tomorrow, she’d prefer to attack Underwood about FEMA, America Works, how he publicly stated he wasn’t running, how she thinks she owns the right to the constitution.” You ticked the topics off on your fingers as you moved through them.

“Can I see what you’ve got?”

“Yeah.” You twisted the laptop towards her.

“Do you mind?” She gestured to the bed and you shook your head,

“Make yourself at home.”

Jackie tucked one of her legs under her perching onto the bed, shifting slightly closer to you to properly see the screen and your caught a waft of lilac, she was clearly fresh out of the shower, having wanted to wash the airplane feel off. You’d always thought she was cute, but at this proximity, and now having gotten to know her a little more and how casual she was (not to mention the very subtle flirting you’d experienced) she was absolutely intoxicating. You watched the way the small smile spread across her lips as she read over what you’d been working on, feeling warmth soothe through you in a sense of accomplishment that you’d done well.

“This is…really good.” She glanced to you with a warm smile, a glimmer in her eyes as she took you in.

“Thank you M’am.” You felt your cheeks heat at the praise.

“You really don’t have to call me M’am.” She laughed softly and you felt your cheeks heat again, ducking your gaze back to the laptop.

“I feel like it’s just instinct at this point.”

“She really was controlling, wasn’t she?” She raised a brow, both of you knowing exactly what she was talking about.

“It..got a little more lax as time went on.”

“I hope she appreciated you as much as you deserve.” Jackie squeezed at your shoulder and you felt the jolt race through you, distracting yourself with your coffee for a moment, plucking the lid off of it to let it cool down a bit as you drank, “because this is really fucking good. I’m going to have you to thank when I win this, your way with words is magical. You really are a”—

“Good last minute addition?” You raised a brow and she chuckled.

“I was going to say diamond in the rough.” She smiled softly, and you nearly melted at the sentiment, added with the warm glow from her eyes you weren’t entirely sure how you were supposed to reply.

Before your brain could stop short circuiting Remy’s voice called out from the other side of Jackie’s suite and you said a silent thank you to whatever higher power was up there that you didn’t have to stop the gay panic right away.

“Jackie?”

“I’m in here!” She called back and he popped up in the doorway, “you have more thoughts on today’s rallies?”

“No.” He glanced between the two of you, “Dunbar wants to meet.”

“About what?”

“Cynthia wouldn’t say.” He shrugged in return and Jackie looked to you.

“Hey, I don’t know anything.” You took a swig of the warmed beverage, “I swear, I’m not her mole.”

“I know peach.” Jackie let out a small laugh as she turned back to you.

“What?” You brow furrowed and she giggled.

“You’ve got foam…” she smiled softly as her hand reached out, her thumb swiping the latte remnants from the corner of your mouth and you felt your breath catch in your throat at the gesture. She immediately turned back to Remy, “when did she want to meet?”

“An hour.”

“Alright. Let her know I’ll be there.”

“On it boss.” With a nod he turned from the door, moving back to the privacy of his own room for the time being. Jackie turned her attention back to your laptop briefly until she’d read through all of it.

“Thoughts?” You questioned with a near wince.

“It’s perfect.” She shot you a grin, “just as expected.”

“You’ve got everything you need for your appearances tonight?”

“Yes.” She let out a small sigh as she pushed off your bed and up to standing, “depending on what Heather says I may need to make some adjustments to the debate stuff later, but we’ll see.”

“Did you need me on site for tonight?”

“Only if you wanted to. It’s the usual shaking hands and kissing babies kinda thing.” She rolled her eyes, “your work is technically done, relax, enjoy the suite.”

“Oh I will.” You laughed, “room service for the win.”

“Just don’t forget to watch, I’ll need your opinion on my delivery of your wonderful words.”

“Of course.” You gave her a bashful smile, “whatever you need.”

“I might also need some outfit help.” She admitted.

“What? No stylist?” You found yourself feeling bold, nearly teasing her and she laughed.

“Not all of us come from mountains of family money.” She lingered in the doorway for a moment, “I think I can manage to dress myself, I just feel like you’ll be a better help than Remy when it comes to that side of things.”

“Probably.” You laughed, “well…my door’s always open. And…thanks for the coffee.”

“It’s the least I could do.” She gave you a small nod and a soft smile before she slipped through the door, pulling it closed behind her as she started to get ready for whatever it was that Heather wanted to talk about.

**

Jackie’s appearances that evening went without a hitch, though you still took as many notes as you could, and altered her debate as needed. It was something important to keep note of what she said at certain rallies and throughout her campaign to make sure that someone didn’t call her out on bullshit later on. And keeping track of details was something you were incredibly good at.

The next day, you worked through her debate, with both you and Remy acting as Underwood and Heather to help her practice, and honestly, she was doing amazing. After a quick outfit check over from you, her and Remy were down to the car to head to the debate while you settled yourself in your hotel room. You had your phone, Jackie’s work phone with all of her socials logged in and ready to go, your laptop for notes, and your iPad ready to FaceTime Becca when it all started.

You’d ordered room service, opting for the casual and easy to eat while you were both working and in a bed, pizza, a small Caesar salad and breadsticks along with the bottle of wine you’d picked up around the corner after Jackie and Remy had left. You were currently working through a couple of things for the next couple of weeks for Jackie, knowing she’d have more than a few appearances post debate when your iPad started to go off with the FaceTime notification.

“Hey.” You answered, “are you watching at the dorm or your parent’s place?” You figured it was important enough to ask considering your conversation would be limited if Rob or Jordan was around.

“Oh bestie…I’m at your condo.” The reply came with a laugh.

“Jesus, you fucking gremlin.”

“You gave me a key!”

“That was for emergencies!” You laughed back, “god you sound like your Mom.”

“Gross.” She snorted a laugh out, “does she still have keys?”

“No.” You mumbled over a bite of pizza, “she….reluctantly gave them back when we worked through our terms and conditions.”

“I don’t wanna know.”

“And I wasn’t gonna tell you.” You sucked back some wine, “are you sure you even want to watch this?”

“I told my Dad I would.” Becca replied with a sigh, “and honestly, you never know what’s gonna happen with politics so it could be interesting.”

“Very true.”

It only took a few more minutes of small talk before the channel buzzed, rerouting to the debate feed, news anchors taking over the screen rambling about things. A few more moments after that was when the stage appeared on the screen, podiums set up as the opponents took their places.

“Jesus…” you swore, “she looks fucking good in blue.”

“Stop thirsting over my Mom!”

“I’m sorry!” You laughed back, “I can’t fucking help it that she’s hot!”

“She’s literally insane!”

“I am well aware of that now Becks!”

The debate started off rather tame, the moderator going through the rules before letting each candidate get into their introductions. You jotted notes down here and there about Frank and Heather’s opinion on things so you could pull them into Jackie’s arguments later on in the campaign, and were immensely impressed with how well Jackie seemed to be doing so far. Becca and you kept your commentary going throughout, and she didn’t shy away from giving you her own remarks over Heather’s arguments to put into your notes.

“Being a woman.” Heather shot back, “just like yourself, the very fact that a woman could hold the solicitor general position.”—

“So you’re a symbol?” Jackie cut in,

“Yes, in a way, I assume I am.”

“Okay, but how does that get us from seventy cents on the dollar to a hundred?”

“Jeeeesssussss….” You swore softly and Becca laughed.

“I told you she was ruthless.”

“Yeah but Jackie’s doing way better than I expected.” You laughed, “is it wrong that I’m a little turned on right now?”

“Oh my GOD!” Becca shouted through the IPad, “stop it!”

“I meant Jackie!!” You shot back, snorting a laugh, “I mean I won’t lie, the two of them arguing is hot as fuck.”

“God you really do have a type.”

“Shut the fuck up. I know.”

Heather continued to rally about how she would be able to balance the scales, how she had the better ideals and thoughts about running the country before suddenly all three of them were talking…well…yelling over each other before Jackie cut in.

“Heather Dunbar talks about balancing the scales, and yet, she sends her own kids to private school, with money she never earned, that she inherited. Now, it is easy to talk about the problems of the poor with a silver spoon in your mouth. She and both her children have had a very large advantage in this world.”

“Let’s leave my children out of this.” Heather shot back,

“You want your children to have a leg up on everyone else. Is that balancing scales? Or is that hypocrisy?”

“Lots of Americans of all ranges of income choose to send their children to private school.”

“Or perhaps you didn’t want to raise them yourself so you sent them to boarding school.”

You could hear gasps echoing through the debate room and the ones leaving you and Becca were far from un dramatic.

“Holy fuck.” You muttered, “I promise you, I did not tell her to go there.”

“Oh bestie I do not care.” Becca laughed back, “if anything, I love seeing my Mom get destroyed on national television.”

“Oh so you’re attempting to paint the picture that I’m a bad mother, shipping my kids off to some far flung place because you know that if you can make me seem like a bad mother, then how can anyone support me. That is not hardball, that is just disgusting.” You had to admit, Heather was doing an incredible job at standing for her defence.

“I think my major question is how the country is supposed to support you in the election when your own daughter is very adamantly not supporting you in this race.” Jackie fired back, “if you don’t have the support of your own children, then how should you be able to gain support of the entire country?” She raised a perfectly curved brow and you could swear your heart stopped in your chest, waiting for the camera to turn back to Heather to capture her reaction. Instead, Frank cut in, and your jaw nearly dropped,

“I feel like Ms Dunbar’s daughter is the least of our concern Senator Sharp. I’m much more intrigued to talk about her son.” Eyes flew to him, “all things considered…he got a DUI years ago that she managed to not only sweep under the rug but he was never punished for. She used her power to simply….make it all disappear. I would think someone who was so defensive about the constitution would uphold the law.”

You let out a gasp, your hand clasping to your mouth, “oh fuck….”

“Why should we want someone running our country when she’s someone that lets people break the law as long as she’s okay with it? That’s not the kind of leadership the United States deserves.” You watched as Heather’s face hardened, her jaw clenching and you knew the answer before you asked it.

“Is this true?!”

“Yeah.” Becca replied through the IPad, “he was only seventeen. Totalled his first car, got picked up by a cop who Mom had defended on an excessive force complaint so he made it disappear.”

“Fuck…”

“Yeah….”

“We’re here to talk about politics, not my children.” Heather shot back, trying to cover her ass before Jackie laid into her again.

“All things considered I believe we are talking about politics now.” Her hands clasped on the podium, “did you make your son’s DUI disappear? You’re so involved with the safety of our citizens, yet you’re out here excusing behaviour that could have had them killed.”

“I…” you could tell the ticks, Heather was struggling, her brain racing to try and put things together as she raced to get a response. She didn’t want to lie, knowing that the truth would come bite her in the ass within a matter of hours anyways, but she didn’t want that to get out. She thought she’d covered all of her bases before the election started, she thought Jordan might be a handful, but it would be him being an idiot now, not eight years ago that would be causing her struggle. Instead, she simply turned to the moderator, “John, I have nothing else to say on the matter.”

*

“Oh….my fucking god.” You murmured over the rim of your glass, “is she fucking done for?”

“No.” Becca groaned, dropping back against the couch on the other end of the face time, “she’ll have something else up her sleeve, she always does. And she’s got that blackmail on the Underwood’s anyways.”

“God she’s gotta be pissed right now.”

“Oh abso-fucking-lutely.” Becca laughed, “good luck.”

“Hey….I’m not working for her.”

“Oh I mean for Jackie…if Mom can find even a scrap of something she can use against her she will.”

“Noted.” You sighed, “I’ll make sure to double vet her over the rest of the week.”

“Oh…fuck…” Becca’s gaze was suddenly directed elsewhere as yours was pulled back to the debate, “I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you Saturday?”

“Yeah.” You shot her a grin, “don’t leave my apartment a mess!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” With that, she was gone, the screen black as you started to jot down more notes as the debate continued.

*

It felt like hours later when you heard the door of Jackie’s hotel room open, some shuffling around going on and a brief couple of phone call or conversations before silence. Moving through your room you knocked on the adjoining door, unsurprised when she called that it was open.

“You crushed it tonight.” You greeted with a smile.

“Thank you.” She turned back to you with a mirrored expression on her face, “couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Oh I doubt that.”

“Did…you know about the DUI?”

“No.” You laughed, “I knew he was an idiot and had drank and drove in the past, but, had no idea she covered it up.”

“But it’s true?” She cocked a brow,

“Yeah. I was FaceTiming with Becca the entire debate.” You shrugged, “she freaked when it happened. I mean..I’m not too surprised. Heather seems to be willing to do whatever she can to keep her name in good grace.”

“Well..that’s going to definitely throw her under the bus this next little bit.”

“Oh definitely.” You laughed, dropping down onto bed, “and she’s not gonna be happy about it.” You felt your hip hit something that you’d nearly landed on, “what?” Your fingers curved around what you thought was the t.v remote at first.

“Oh fuck.” Jackie laughed as she realized what as in your hand, “I should’ve put that away, I’m sorry.” As she reached for it you suddenly realized it was a suction vibrator, quickly passing it off to her.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” You laughed, your cheeks heating.

“What can I say? The best way to relax is an orgasm.” She smirked, dropping it into her suitcase.

“I mean..you’re definitely not wrong.” You teased, “Sorry…was that a penguin?” She let out a bark of a laugh,

“Kind of?” She grinned, “there’s a few different versions of it, I got it at a bachelorette a few years back, and it…does its job.”

“Noted.” You laughed, “did you want to go through anything else from tonight now?”

“No.” She smiled softly, “enjoy your night. We can go over everything with Remy in the morning before the other media appearances.”

“Alright.” You pushed up from the bed, moving back to the adjoining door.

“Sweet dreams.” Jackie cast you one last smile that you nearly melted at as you slipped through the doorway.

__________ @Lesbianologist @screenee @disaster-and-disgrace @jamiethetrans @natasha-danvers @veteranwerewolf95 @laurenhope13 @imlike-so-gaydude @gay-ass-bitch @oliviaswifey @mysticfalls01 @cmmndrwidw @bumblebear30 @paulson-hargitay @molllss @solemnnova @svushots @nocreditinthestraightworld @yourtaletotell @cerberus-spectre @thatgaygiraffesquirrelgirl @emskisworld @ex-uallyactive @addictedtodinosaurs @rosiewritesagain @imaginaryoperagloves @wandasbrat @lustvolle-liebe @disn3y7 @samwithnoplan @multifandomlesbianic @swimmingstudentchaos891 @anne-gillettes-wh0r3 @season4scullyhair @whimsicallymad @alexusonfire @mmmmokdok @lazarettta @muscatmusic18 @sia2raw @ladysc @dxtery @1-lindsay83 @mmemalwa @ms-calhoun @holycrapraewth

[askamnesiamoonjumper]

Oh! Oh! For the fanfic emoji ask meme: 🤲 , ❌ , 🥺 , 🧐 , and ✍ !

🤲: here’s a bit from mj and dels meeting in chapter 2 I did today bc it’s a very cute plus there’s this one really subtle detail with the dialogue that no one will pick up on but I don’t care I’m obsessed with it yall try and guess what the detail is bc I’m not saying

❌: AMNESIA FROM AN OUTSIDE POV I hate amnesia when it’s from other characters POVS and not from... youknow... the character WITH amnesias, it’s just “oh no this isn’t you😢!!! you gotta remember😭!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺!!” For the entire plot Like SHUT UPPPPP I WANNA SEE THE ACTUAL AMNISIACS REACTION TO IT I NEED TO GET IN THEIR HEAD AND HEAR THEIR THOUGHTS AND PANIC OR LACK THERE OF I NEED THE SUBTLE HORROR OF THE SITUATION TO SINK IN I NEED THE TRAGEDY I NEED THEIR TURMOILLL CMONNNNN STOP WITH THE FRIENDS REACTIONS BULLCRAP I WANNA SEE A GUY HAVE A BREAKDOWN OF NOT EVEN KNOWING BASIC PERSONAL INFORMATION THAT EVERYONE SHOULD KNOW AND YET THEY KEEP REACHING AND JUST CANT FIND IT ITS ON THE TIP OF THEIR TOUNGE ABD IT JUST SLIPS AWAY AT THE LAST MOMENT AND AAAAUUUUGGGHHHHH BANGS FIST ON WALL

The trope CAN be done well but it’s just not often idk I think amnesia can only work under specific circumstance like if it’s a person vs self or a excuse for a character arc or mystery or a reveal etc it’s very difficult to do it where it’s not cliche

Tldr:

Plot twist of the century the person who made an amnesia au loathes most uses of amnesia in media and fics <3

🥺: PRINCE TWINS ALL THE WAY BAYBEEEE, also Delilah and mj are always sweet together, same with her and snatcher they both have good dynamics with her! Now those three being ALL together though? that’s a different story they loose all brain cells

honestly a shame I love her dynamic with them yet she doesn’t really show up much💔 I just never really know what to do with her lolz

🧐: if you count knowing really obscure cut content as research then... oh boy YEAH. NO DUH.

✍: Twip is technically my beta reader yeah!

[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!)

[male-reader-requests]

Puppy Love

Requested by: yumirose0

Pairings: Mirio Togata x M! Reader

Word Count: 1,867

Warnings: Very fluffy, very sweet. There's basically no dialogue here, trying to get used to writing dialogue, but over all it's just tooth-rotting fluff.

-

Miro forced himself not to sigh, forced himself to keep a smile going. He was stressed, he was tired, and he was lonely. 

The agency had been running him ragged, so had his supplementary training, and now all he wanted to do was sleep for 3 days and see his boyfriend, (M/N).

But (M/N) was still training.

It was edging up on midnight and (M/N) was probably still at the gym, possibly only just starting his day, but by god, Mirio felt selfish admitting it but he wanted the taller male here instead of there.

(M/N)'s quirk was, easily put, Spider, or Arachnid if you wanted a technical term. 

The taller male had 6 arms, 3 on each side much like the kid from 1-A, his legs counting as arms he guessed. He also had 8 eyes, two humanoid in shape a lovely color of (E/C), and 6 others that were a startling shade of red resting on his forehead above the others. He had fangs and super strength and was mostly nocturnal, but he was great.

Mirio just wished he was here now.

But that wasn't something he could control so the blond male sighed, straightened his back, and continued on his journey to (M/N)'s dorm room. 

The two of them had been dating right out of middle school, 3 years now, and the two of them were used to every single odd little thing about the other. Mirio was used to the large amount of meat (M/N) would eat and the defensive biting that would happen from time to time just the same as (M/N) was used to Mirio being a bit messy with the laundry and odd work scheduling.

The two of them worked together for each other, there was no other way to do it.

When Mirio had gotten to the dorm room it felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and the second he stepped in it felt as if the weight had been thrown out the window. 

Laying on the floor of their room, feet propped up on the bed with 6 arms thrown about the room, was one very drowsy looking (M/N).

He was dressed in just a pair of boxers, as customary clothing for bed, and he had a pair of very bulky headphones on. Whatever he was listening to was on the softer side of his normal music, full of pianos and violins, probably classical music to make him sleepy and the blond male felt a stupidly large grin spread on his face.

One of those red eyes slowly unglazed, and despite not having a pupil or anything Mirio knew it was focused on him. Smiling the blond moved about the room, putting his bag away and hanging his coat up, putting his shoes by the door, and taking his belt off along with his tie, all while (M/N) slowly pulled himself together to be sitting instead of laying on the floor.

Once done, or as done as he was going to get before (M/N) got impatient, Mirio sat on the edge of the bed, hand reaching out to thread through messy (H/C) hair. (M/N)'s headphones had been set off to the side, a soft piano playing muffled against the floor as their owner leaned into strong hands.

Mirio gently rubbed at (M/N) scalp, watching his face as it was practically the only thing he could look at with them almost being at eye level with each other.

Mirio was... proud of his height. That was basically the only way he could explain it. Mirio stood at 5'11", on the taller end of the spectrum and up until their last year in middle school had been the tallest of his little friend group of (M/N) and Tamaki.

Tamaki was still shorter than him, but (M/N) had passed him up by a significant amount, now standing at a massive 6'10". (M/N) was almost a whole foot taller than him, but he'd never been one to tease about it.

(M/N) let out a light hum, leaning into Mirio's hands before taking one in his, pressing his lips to his palm. (M/N) was a very affectionate lover, he did practically everything in his power to make Mirio happy. He bought flowers and video games and went on cheap dates and complimented Mirio so much that the other male practically had a permanent blush in his presents. Not that Mirio was complaining.

(M/N) was also very playful and energetic. On multiple accounts (M/N) had been called a puppy, very sweet, very energetic, cuddly, a bit clumsy, and a bit odd. But Mirio loved it and wouldn't change it for the world.

(M/N)'s kisses were slow and tired, just light presses of his lips but Mirio could feel the drowsy smile making it's way onto his face as he moved from the palm of his hand to his wrist, the light drag of a fang against his skin making his heart beat faster. He knew (M/N) had no control over that, didn't mean anything by it, but the taller male was a bit of a biter in the heat of the moment and it always got his heart racing.

"How was the agency?" (M/N) whispered, his voice low and rumbly, and Mirio knew it was because he was tired, but damn it was hot as hell.

Mirio smiles, running his free hand down from (M/N)'s hair to his neck, just holding him there. "It was good," he said, voice just as quiet as (M/N)'s, "busy but good." (M/N) let out a "hmm" in reply and moved from kissing Mirio's wrist to laying his head on the blonds thighs, moving to sit between his legs. He was still holding one of Mirio's hands, the other still resting on the back of (M/N) neck.

Mirio sighed, his hand tangling in (H/C) locks again. He knew that if he didn't get (M/N) off the floor he would fall asleep there, and Mirio wouldn't mind really, but it was bad for (M/N)'s back and he couldn't let him hurt himself just because he was tired.

"Come on," he said softly, moving his hands to grab at a pair of (M/N)'s arms. He was being a bit rough, jerking (M/N) and himself into a standing position but it's what he had to do. Once (M/N) fell asleep he would stay asleep. There wasn't much that could wake him up so Mirio had to get them moved to the bed now instead of later.

(M/N) groaned, something that more of a whine of discomfort than anything but complied for the most part. He stood up with Mirio, slouched over quite a bit as he leaned on the other male. The majority of his weight was being pressed onto Mirio, far too tired to hold himself up.

One set of hands were tangled in blond hair, another wrapped around Mirio's back, and the last pair were lightly gripping onto the other male's waist. His head was pressed into Mirio's hair, lightly rubbing his cheek into the blond strands, pressing sleepy kisses into his scalp when he got the energy.

It was adorable, it made Mirio blush darkly and a dopey smile spread across his face, but he had a mission and he planned to finish it.

"Come on," he said again, slowly moving them so he could press (M/N) down to sit on the mattress. (M/N) was very compliant, doing as Mirio moved him, but he didn't let go. (M/N) was a cuddler in his sleep, was pretty much all the time, but it was worse when he was sleepy. 

Mirio chuckled lightly, he'd gotten (M/N) to sit on the bed, but now he was standing between his legs wrapped in 6 arms with a head of (H/C) hair pressed to his chest. It was adorable honestly, but Mirio was still dressed in his school uniform and wanted to go to bed.

"(M/N)," he said softly, moving some of (M/N)'s hair away from his eyes, "I need to change." The other male grumbled about something, his words too soft and slurred to be understandable. He huffed lightly, pressing his face harder into Mirio's chest and tightening his hold on him.

His hands moved, one pair still pressed to his hips, one pair wrapped around his lower back, but one pair moved to cradle his face, thumbs moving lightly over cheekbones. Those (E/C) eyes were closed, but Mirio knew the red ones were watching him.

It was a bit odd, and hard to get used to, but (M/N) didn't need his actual eyes open to be able to see, as the red ones were technically always open. They had a sort of second eyelid, a film like thing that was slightly transparent would cover them from time to time but he could always see out of them. Mirio didn't know how he slept at night still being able to see.

Smiling softly Mirio moved his hands to do the same, thumbs moving over (S/C) cheeks as the gently moved (M/N) head off his chest. He huffed again, not liking that he was being moved, but opened his eyes sleepily, (E/C) meeting blue.

Mirio could tell (M/N) was tired enough that the second they got in bed he would be out like a light, so to appease the other male he pressed a light kiss to the top of his head and moved to slip out of his shirt and pants. 

Unfortunately, since he was in a clingy mood Mirio wouldn't be able to put on any of his sleepwear, which was normally just sweats and a shirt if he was feeling cold, but there wasn't anything he could really do about it. 

The blond did his best to throw his clothes to the laundry hamper, though he missed. (M/N), who would normally lightly chide Mirio about leaving his dirty clothes on the floor, immediately pressed his face into the blond's chest, pulling him as close as possible.

Mirio laughed, pressing his hands to (M/N) chest in an attempt to get him to let go. It was futile for a moment or two but eventually, he loosed his hold, letting Mirio go long enough for him to turn the lights off and actually crawl into the bed instead of just sitting on it.

(M/N) followed closely behind, pulling Mirio to his chest and wrapping him in 6 arms.

Mirio loved it, it made him feel safe and loved. Though he'd never not felt loved by (M/N), it was a nice feeling, one of protection.

He wouldn't change it for the world.