#prompted by seeing a mean girls gifset

[vanrhijnadams]

3 way call = 3 or more participants on the same dedicated phone call (not a party line where anyone on the phone line can hear/speak)

call switching = while on a call with one person, you can put them on hold and talk to a different person

[wen-kexing-apologist]

10 BL Boys I Want Carnally

I was tagged by @twig-tea, but I do what I want so I'm ignoring the Boys thing (and on at least one occasion the BL thing). Anyway, without further ado, and in no particular order.

Win!Lin- Cupid's Last Wish

LOOPHOLE FIRST!

gif by @angelbesideme

Thanks to Cupid's Last Wish, Jan is a boy here! So I am choosing Win from Cupid's Last Wish before he body swaps back. HOWEVER, if I'm honest, it was less Win and more masc!Jan that made my brain short circuit so do with that what you will.

Toon- Seneha Stories

I am breaking from the prompt immediately, but this is my post and I can do what I want, so I am choosing Toon from Seneha Stories, which @so-much-yet-to-learn brought my attention to. Seneha Stories is definitively not a BL, but Toon is hot, kind, sad, and he fucks so I'd be living my best life.

Miw, Neo, Shin, and Mae - 3 Will Be Free

THIS IS NOT ME SUGGESTING A FOURSOME, THIS IS JUST ME TRYING TO PREVENT FOUR OF THE TEN SPACES FROM BEING 3 WILL BE FREE.

I like it when my fictional women not only are capable of murder, but have, in fact, murdered. Miw and Mae are hot, competent, killers, fucking over evil billionaires so what is not to love?

I am not immune to Neo and his slutty little crop tops. He has three brain cells and they are all that is keeping him from not dying. Iconic to be honest.

I am not immune to Shin and his glasses, and his kindness. I mean, the boy got cut with a knife and not only comforted the kid that wounded him when he started freaking out but dated him.

Mollie - The Warp Effect

gif by @patpran

MY FIRST NON-BINARY REP IN THAILAND, MY BELOVED. Mollie is so fucking hot, they are talented, they have sick tattoos, they are fighting for themselves, and are changing the landscape of media, what is not to love?

You could also almost certianly put in any of Silvy's characters and I would probably want them carnally, cause...it's Silvy.

(honestly, I'd go for Nim too, but again, not for her character's personality, it's the masc!Jan effect)

Kim- KinnPorsche

gif by @namchyoon

For this scene and this scene only. Honestly, I think if nothing else this shows you that my type is people who could actually maybe kill me in a fight.

Or at the very least, people I could get in to a homoerotic fight with.

Anyway, Jeff gives me gender envy and the first time I saw this gifset, I thought he was a butch lesbian.

Speaking of homoerotic fights

Phaya and Sand - The Sign

MENACE! A MENACE I TELL YOU! I truly well and deeply have an appreciation for when someone who (I assume) typically would top absolutely just vibrates out of their skin at the first sign they might be topped.

And I'm adding Sand here as well because I think my jaw dropped like ten feet when I saw her on screen.

Sand, baby girl, let me know if Yai doesn't treat you right, cause I will.

King- Bed Friend

gif by @earthfluuke

Shout out to this man, I've seen him on at least three of these lists. But who could blame us? Look at him.

Choy Yu Na- Semantic Error

She did that bisexual sit and my heart was hers.

And for my last two picks, I certainly am asking myself the question, do I want them carnally or do I just want them?

Mork -My Ride

Helloooooooo Mr. Dimples. I mean....I feel like I don't need to explain myself here. We all get it, right? We understand, right? And besides, he gives rides for a living or something...

Minoru- Our Dining Table

HE'S JUST SO NICE, SO KIND, SO TIRED. @isaksbestpillow is so right, he is a mother. I love him.

Tagging @so-much-yet-to-learn, @solitaryandwandering, @respectthepetty and anyone else who sees this and wants to join!

[lucy-sky]

Skulls and Roses (tattoo master!Griff x f!Reader)

Filthy Friday prompts: porn without plot (or with minor plot idk); hookup; rough

Getting your tattoo dedicated to your ex replaced by a new one can be extremely liberating.

Warnings: casual sex (protected!) - I don’t need to explain you that having sex with someone you don’t really know can be dangerous, right? Please be careful in real life :)

Words: 1936; gif by me (from an older gifset when I didn’t use the watermark)

AO3 link if you prefer reading there

“Don’t get me wrong, sweetheart, customer’s always right… but why not simply remove that shit?”

“Because I don’t want to just get rid of it. I want to have something beautiful instead,” you explain, turning the pages of the album filled with tattoo design options. “And please, don’t call me sweetheart. Ever.”

The story is as old as the world. You were in love, he was an asshole. You thought it’s gonna last, but it didn’t. The love is gone, and the only reminder of a man who broke your heart are these stupid fancy letters - his initials, tattooed on your forearm. At first you wanted to leave this evidence of your stupidity as a warning to not repeat your mistakes again, but you simply couldn’t bear seeing them any longer. You want to move on after all. That’s what brought you here, to a place down the street called “Griff’s Tattoos”.

“Alright, alright easy there,” the master raises his hands at your aggressive tone. “Told ya, the customer’s always right. But you see, I ain’t got no… butterflies, or flowers, or unicorns or something like that in here, I’m afraid.”

“Who says I want butterflies or unicorns?” you huffed, rolling your eyes. “I might not look super hardcore, but you don’t know me, mister…”

“It’s Griff, you can just call me that,” the man gestures at the “Griff’s Tattoos” sign on the wall. “And yeah, you’re right, I don’t-”

“Hey, how about that?” you interrupted him as you finally found something of your taste.

“Really? You want that?” Griff raises his eyebrows as you point at the picture. There’s a skull with three red roses, seemingly growing out of it.

“Yeah, I think this one is great. The skull means that the old love is dead, and the roses mean that something beautiful can still grow in its place,” you reply with a shrug.

“Okay, uh… That makes sense, I guess. Didn’t think of any of this while drawing it though,” he lets out a chuckle.

“You could think of a meaning for some of your tattoo designs to sell them to the customers.”

“Yeah, maybe. My own tattoos don’t have much meaning at all, I just make up different stories ‘bout ‘em to impress the girls,” he laughs.

“Nice,” you sigh under your breath, trying not to roll your eyes again. Yet another asshole in your life, apparently. Thank god you’re only his customer, and nothing more than that.

“So, if you made up your mind, let’s get to it,” he smiles, gesturing at his workplace.

“Yep, let’s get to it.”

Maybe that Griff really is an asshole, who knows? But in fact, he manages to make you laugh a few times while he’s working, and you really appreciate that. Conversation distracts you from the pain, plus this man… You have to admit there’s something attractive about him, despite anything. You watch his focused face while he’s working, the crease of his eyebrows, and in a way he looks quite intimidating, but when he smiles, he suddenly looks so different. As if his features soften, and those wrinkles at the corners of his eyes are kind of… Cute? And his gruff voice and deep dark eyes… Damn, you can’t be serious, thinking of him like that. On the other hand - you’re a single woman now, free from a long and actually pretty toxic relationship. You don’t have to jump into another one, but a bit of flirting never hurt nobody. Flirting makes you feel confident, and for the first time in what feels like ages you’re simply enjoying it without feeling any sort of guilt. And honestly? You love this feeling.

“There ya go,” he says proudly when the work is finished. “You like it?”

“Yeah, that’s… Really good!” your reply is honest - you really think the new tattoo is great. The goddamn initials are now perfectly covered with a fresh layer of ink, and even if the tattoo is a bit too bigger than you intended to get at first, you still are satisfied. “I love it.”

“Good to know,” Griff nods, his fingers brushing against your arm with unexpected gentleness. “Did my best to save the girl in trouble.”

“Please!” you scoff, “I think you’re flattering yourself.”

“Modesty’s not my thing,” he grins. “Can I uh… Ask you a personal question?”

“Try it.”

“What happened to you and that guy?” He gestures at the tattoo. “I mean if that’s a guy, ‘cause it could be a girl too, I-”

“That’s a guy. And well, there’s nothing much to talk about, really. I was dumb enough to think he’s the love of my life, and then I found out the dickhead’s been cheating on me for months. Which is actually pretty funny, ‘cause he’s always been extremely jealous and made me feel guilty every time I looked at another man.”

You’re not quite sure why you told it to him. Apparently sometimes it’s just easier to tell something this personal to a stranger.

“Damn. That’s fucked up.”

“Fuck him. His ego is way bigger than his dick, to be honest, so I don’t regret it’s over,” you shrug.

“You know what? If I were him, I’d definitely treat you way better.”

For some reason the way Griff says it, and the way his dark eyes look at you cause a slight shiver run down your spine.

“Oh yeah?” you say, and it comes out a bit more flirty than you intended.

“Yeah. My ego’s big, but no one ever complained about my dick either,” he smirks. Unconsciously, you lower your gaze to his crotch at these words, and instantly hate yourself for that because he obviously noticed, you can tell it from the way his grin got wider.

“See something you like,” he winks, and you hate yourself once again, because even at this moment you find him attractive, with all his stupid tattoos, and smile, and beard, smug face and mischievous eyes.

“Look, Griff. I wanna make it clear for you, okay? I’m not looking for a relationship. I’ve had enough for now.”

He steps closer, invading your space, leaning towards you, his lips impossibly close to your ear as he speaks, so close you can feel the warmth of his breathing.

“Who’s talking about relationships, sweetheart? It’s just that… If you want me to make you forget ‘bout that son of bitch for a while, I’m happy to oblige.”

Oh gosh, the audacity this man has!..

“I told you not to call me sweetheart, remember?” you say as you turn your face to meet his gaze, and then, all of a sudden, following some strange impulse, you press your lips to his.

Griff is quick to respond to your actions, kissing you back with furious determination. Your kiss was timid, but his tongue invades your mouth with no shame at all, his hand reaching to the back of your head to pull you closer, it skims to the side of your neck and frames your jaw as he kisses you, humming against your mouth, and you probably lost your mind, because you don’t push him away. Instead, your own tongue darts to meet his. Matching his wild energy, you nip on his bottom lip, earning a low groan from him, your fingers sinking into his hair to give it a tug.

It’s crazy. Totally fucking insane. You don’t even know this man.

“Fine,” you hear yourself saying, chest heaving as you’re trying to catch a breath. “Make me forget.”

“Customer’s always right,” Griff chuckles, his hands roaming down your body, kneading your butt as he kisses you once again with the same fire and passion. “Just wait a second.”

He pulls back and walks towards the door. He turns over the “open” sign, changing it into a “closed” one, and returns to you.

“Don’t want anyone to disturb us”, he explains, seizing your hips and urging you to sit on the desk behind you. “Still wanna do it, darlin’?”

“I might change my mind if you ask too many questions.”

“Got it.”

He buries his face into your neck, kissing, sucking and nibbling at the tender flesh there, big warm hands sliding up your thighs and under the skirt of your dress. You let out a quiet moan when he reaches your already embarrassingly damp underwear.

“Shit, you sound so good. Can you moan a lil louder for me?” He murmurs into your neck, his fingers pressing harder between your thighs, causing your hips to buck in anticipation.

“Want me to moan - make me.”

You have no idea where you got this boldness from, but that’s the new you, and fuck it - you’re actually enjoying yourself.

Griff doesn’t need to be told twice. He swiftly tugs your panties down your legs, cursing at your shoelaces as he unties and pulls off your boots to get the underwear out of the way. Once he manages to do it, he pushes your legs open and dips his fingers between your slick folds. You whimper, gripping onto his shoulders, as he curls them inside of you, touching exactly the right spot over and over. It feels amazing, mind blowing, but you still need more.

“You got condoms, do you?” you ask breathlessly.

“Who do you think I am, swee- darlin’?” he grins, reaching to fish it out of his back pocket. At this point you don’t even give a shit what he calls you any longer. With shaky fingers you undo his jeans as he opens the wrapper with his teeth and throws it away.

He enters you with a hard thrust of his hips, setting a pretty rough pace, but that’s exactly what you want. He promised to make you forget, and he keeps his promise, fucking you as if he wants fuck any single thought out of your brain until your head is empty and light. Your moans and gasps and his grunts and muffled curses become louder and louder as you’re both getting closer to climax. You come first, throwing your head back as your walls flutter and clench around him, your whole body shuddering as pleasure hits you wave after delicious wave. Griff manages to catch your mouth in a messy, sloppy kiss before he follows you, groaning like a wild animal. Then he stays still for a while, panting, face buried into the crook of your neck.

Getting down from your high, you let your fingers caress the back of his neck absentmindedly, enjoying that pleasant post-orgasmic buzz coursing through your body. How can sex with someone you barely know feel so good? You always thought really good sex must involve feelings. Not that you want to repeat this experience, but right now, at this stage of your life it didn’t feel dirty or embarrassing. It felt kinda liberating.

“You okay?” Griff asks hoarsely as he pulls away and reaches somewhere behind you to grab a roll of paper towels.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you nod.

Your hand is already on the doorknob when Griff stops you.

“Wait, almost forgot,” he tears a page out of his album and hands it to you. “Here. I don’t repeat the tattoos, so…”

“Oh. Course,” you smile as you take the paper and look at the skull with roses once again. “Alright. Thanks again, um… Good night!”

“Night,” he says simply. “Come over if you need some more ink, or… You know.”

“I don’t think so,” you reply honestly. “But who knows, maybe one day I’ll change my mind.”

He nods with a soft yet smug chuckle on his face.

“Customer’s always right.”

Thank you for reading!

Tattoo inspo

[torisprlng]

Hey there Tori! Loved the DW/Wonka gifset, made me squeal seeing it in my feed.

If you’re looking for requests for sets, I’ve got a good one for you: a comparison between the Dead Boy Detectives agency (Edwin, Charles, Crystal and Niko) and the Fruity Four from Stranger Things (Steve, Nancy, Robin and Eddie)

You’ve got the “popular” bisexual with dad issues who’s great with a bat (Steve, Charles),

The reformed “prissy” mean bi girl not afraid to speak her mind (Crystal, Nancy),

The odd, not the best with people, special interest lesbian (Robin, Niko),

And the wrongly blamed, unconventional, gay social outcast (Edwin, Eddie).

Feel free to use those exact descriptions as text in the gifs you make, and you can choose which moments to use (preferably moments where they all look pretty, cause they all deserve it).

If you can’t get to it, that’s cool. I just came up with this idea and thought it was a funny coincidence.

hi! these are awesome prompts & i wish i had the time to do some of these 😭 my busy schedule has forced me to cut back a lot on giffing unfortunately 😞 but maybe some of my mutuals will be inspired by these 🙏🏻🙏🏻

[leseigneurdufeu]

sure @dianacraft so:

the shoelaces.

The old (like early 2010's old) way to find a tumblrina irl (note: tumblrina, name, neutral gender: someone who has an account on tumblr) was to go to that person and say "i like your shoelaces". If the other person was a tumblrina, the answer would be "thanks, i stole them from the president".

colour theory.

born from a 2020 (i think?) pic of a children's hospital redecorated with funny abstract paintings on the floor, except the painting was red, which made it look like a trail of blood. The legend of the pic was commenting on how the colour could have been something else and a reply made an extensive essay about how in colour theory, red had more positive than negative meanings, and it was totally appropriate.

Goncharov (and Malisa)

Goncharov is a meme born from a pair of bootleg shoes with a sticker saying "goncharov, a martin scorsese movie, by matteo jwhj0715, about naples mafia" (approx.). Someone asked "what's this movie it doesn't exist???" (because it doesn't. it's a knock-off of Gommorra, an actual scorsese movie) and someone else answered "this idiot hasn't watched goncharov".

That was in 2020. In 2022 (mid-end of november if I'm not wrong) some twitter refugees pick up the memes where they left and start recirculating it. It immediately becomes very popular, trending for a week, prompting the creation of posters (the "official" one being from @beelzeebub, fanarts, a very extensive AO3 fandom, gifsets and screenshots of other mafia movies falsified to look like it's from "GOncharov" (ex: The Godfather's, scenes mashup together, with fake subtitles saying "it's me. i'm goncharov" and such), fake DVD covers, and even a handful of fake matteo jwhj0715 accounts, as well as a few biographies (@matteo-jwhj0715, @therealmatteojwhj0715, @therealmatteo-jwhj-0715...).

The wikipedia page of Martin Scorsese was locked because too many people put the movie in his filmography. To this day, you can still find the goncharov poster in the list of movies he supposedly made when you look him up on google. His daughter showed him the meme and he pretended to remember making the movie. We've got a cast for it, behind-the-scenes trivia, and a few spreadsheets trying to make sense of the WHOLE meme like, there was an applebooth scene there was a lake scene there was a poker scene... who's Mario Ambrosini, good or bad guy, is Katya in love with Goncharov or Sofia, is Goncharov actually the name of the hero or a nom de guerre...

Recently, a tiktok screenshot was shown around showing a girl with the subtitles "when he doesn't want to watch the last MCU movie but speaks about a black and white movie about the serbian government shot through the eyes of a pigeon" (approx.). @candlelightsinner was among the people who made up Malisa (there's an accent on the S i just don't have it on my keyboard) the pigeon movie. Same as with matteo jwhj0715, fictional director Boro Draskovic was invented, and a fake officla account (which bickers a lot with one of the matteo jwhj0715 accounts about which fake movie is best, I know 'cause i follow them both because i'm a nerd) was created, introducing @actually-boro-draskovic. Ever since, it has a much smaller following but it WAS featured in the @bestwarmovieevertournament as it is a fake war movie.

LOSS

It's born from a silent comics about a man going into a hospital. It looks like this:

and was parodied with a lot of pictures with 1 standing, 2 standing, 2 standing, 1-standing-and-1-lying pictures. I remember seeing someone putting pictures of the four US presidents to have been assassinated together by political denominations of murderers (since political compasses also go two-up-and-two-down) and someone commented it worked as a LOSS.jpg format since the standing and lying pictures aligned perfectly with the original. It's also refered to in written language as "I II II IL" for that reason.

The Destiel Confession Meme.

It looks like this:

Its only purpose now is to announce big news. Example are "the queen of england/first man to have been diagnosed with autism/prime minister of Japan died today", "Reddit/Twitter is falling down", "the indian childcare act was not striken down" etc. It's for IMPORTANT WORLD NEWS as well as important show business/cultural news, not to say "i've got Xk followers!" or "i'm creating a sideblog!". I'm putting this meme down the list because if anyone sees it at the head of a post, their first reaction WILL be "oh shit what happened?"

It's called Destiel Confession meme because it's the love confession of Castiel to Dean in the TV Show Supernatural, the ship being finally realized. It happened on the 5th of november, same day as Putin was elected, which prompted people to baptize the day "Putin Destiel day" and make it a national tumblr holiday.

Superwholock

Speaking of supernatural, it's part of the Superwholock. A Big Three of the fandoms, Supernatural, Doctor WHo and BBC Sherlock Holmes, which were the three most popular fandoms on tumblr for years in the 2012's (using that term because "tumblr 2012" is used to mean the height of classic tumblr). Other important fandoms were the MCU (most of the Stark Tower AUs in which the avengers, peter parker, loki and a reader self-insert all live together in the stark tower are from this period), Twilight (the twilight renaissance is ironical appreciation of the books and movies), disney princesses and pixar-multiverse-theories, harry potter (mainly drarry. urgh).

the big crackfics

Speaking of fandoms and harry potter fanfics, My Immortal. It's a dark,satanic, nsfw, fic that was first posted on ffn i think? (fanfiction.net) and although not everyone read it, everyone is familiar with the incipit: "Hi my name is Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way and I have long ebony black hair (that’s how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Amy Lee (AN: if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Gerard Way but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I’m also a witch, and I go to a magic school called Hogwarts in England where I’m in the seventh year (I’m seventeen). I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking outside Hogwarts. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of preps stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them." (taken from the full text available on the my-immortal-fandom site). It is very often quoted for just the "hi my name is [...] major fucking hottie" part, sometimes re-written to correspond to other characters such as Patrick Bateman from American Psycho.

There's also a Fallout: New Vegas x My Little Poney crossover fic called Fallout: Equestria.

Vanilla extract and Tournaments (it's linked)

When polls were first introduced as a feature, tumblr immediately started using it for collaborative art (making an E with the answers of a 5-answers poll, for example) and one person gave a list of ingredients, including vanilla extract, to make a cake, asking people to vote so the ingredients aligned with the recipe. Vanilla extract won the poll by a 50% margin and for the next days, vanilla extract trended as people put it in every meme they could.

Anyway the Tournaments are born from the same feature being introduced, and now there are tournaments for everything. Best war movie ever, best webtoon dark haired male lead, best fourth wall breakers, best orange character, best light-hair-dark-hair duo, strongest child in fiction, best bald guy, best catholic saint, best iconic tumblr post (many of the contestants being in this post btw. your homeworks are to go to that poll and read all posts linked. you'll find it here @iconic-post-bracket).

Tumblr Bookclub

The hottest thing around right now is being member of a bookclub (a substack sending you chapters of a classics day by day), such as Dracula Daily (the most famous on this site), Whale Weekly (Moby Dick), Letters from Watson (Sherlock Holmes) or one of the few that are already over and I don't know if they picked up again for the new year, such as the LOTR newsletter, the Cristo Account, Frankenstein, and Jekyll, etc.

The dracula daily memes alone would require a comprehensive guide and I'm turning you to one of the numerous dracula-themed blogs out there, @ourgoodfriendjonathan, @dracula-dictionary, @dracula-daily-memes etc.

Other memes

The colour of the sky, you'll pick up when the original meme arrives on your dashboard. The "sold by your parents to one direction" one is mostly dead. There are a bunch of other classic memes probably but I can't think of them rn.

Fall of Twitter:

Tumblr: LMAOOOO let's shoot fires in the air and make up a mafia movie it's gonna confuse them and horrify them so much! Mishapocalypse! Putin Destiel! Colour theory! Loss Meme! Let's drive them out, let only the strongest survive!

Blackout of Reddit:

Tumblr: shush it's gonna be ok alright? come over here we've got soup for you. There's no thing like spamliking and if someone is rude to you it's not normal. Here's a comprehensive guide of our memes. Have a biscuit and a kiss on the forehead. We love you.

[boxenstopp]

hello daily czech it out post! i missed yesterday which technically removes that title but i don't care because genuinely carzzy saying "your girlfriend my husband" is something i would say to my friends about blorbo and it makes me go absolutely bonkers.

EPISODE 4!

firstly!! carzzy desperately trying to not carry this series on his back (if you can't carry ur games ig that's what you do. i appeciate it.) literally like getting your bf to try to talk at family dinners tho. he's like!! say something!! and humanoid just declines and carzzy has to sit there. teehee. light tap to humanoid's cheek. cause he's annoying and we can't dare forget that.

random ass argument time! carzzy is literally wrong again but he's carzzy so i can't really say who won this. literally just lying <3

+ marek's reaction to carzzy calling him bad. (btw calling him marek bcs carzzy did and that makes me happy :3) my man just leaves. collecting these reactions now:

sad pout

agree that you're bad

leave the screen

ignore him and say a completely different sentence that just so happens to be about carzzy being shit at the game.

ANDDD he's back. with this beautiful freeze-frame. i also don't know shit about one direction so if "one direction, we disbanded" means something to you emotionally, i'm sorry. i mean humanoid forgives him anyway (even though he's the one that left- i mean.)

also just look at him looking at carzzy. ALSO to anyone who fucking reads these a) ily b) should i take up giffing. cause sometimes i think screenshots really arent enough and i should make gifsets. cause carzzy has this really cute shrug here that i need. in motion. on this post.

NOW we get to the insulting carzzy part. i was not worried as the first half had been insulting humanoid time. also humanoid's impression of carzzy's voice as this high pitched girl voice... it's the same as his "yes master" voice lmao. and carzzy laughs way too hard at this. if i made the same "how does carzzy react to being insulted" list it would just be:

laugh really hard and try not to make it obvious that you're infatuated

and then humanoid just makes carzzy hold his mic box. for some reason. and they don't mention it. (carzzy holding onto it in his arms like it's precious btw.)

NOW IT'S THE WORST FUCKING SEGMENT OF THE VIDEO. how humanoid will kiss you. after he wins mvp. WHAT PROMPTS HIM. WHAT TAKES OVER HIS MIND TO JUST FUCKING. MIME KISSING THE AIR. WITH TONGUE. but i mean then carzzy has to go. "hmmm how do i make this worse. ah." no he didnt!! no he didn't kiss me like that >:( i want you all to know. so i'm going to say it multiple times. cause he didnt kiss me like that i need you to know.

btw carzzy laughing at being called humanoid's dog. again. not that funny. also, according to these videos, he must call you that like 10 times a day. don't you get sick of it, carzzy? isn't it at some point enough? or are you really that down bad?

anyway episode already over :<. humanoid gets up and then remembers he's literally tethered himself to carzzy.

the second pic is great cause a) carzzy looks great yes and b) the editors pause way too long on carzzy's face as humanoid's now gone. like bitch he's probably 5 meters away.

shadow's here say hello and then

VIDEO END.

final thoughts: honestly. apart from whatever the fuck the kissing thing was, not too torturous. had coherent thoughts throughout most of this. humanoid did not want to be in this video, his mind was probably not okay and that's why the kissing thing happened, i imagine. see you tomorrow.

[bobfloydsbabe]

i like you | rooster bradshaw x oc

Rating: Teen and up Word count: 600+ Warning(s): Kissing (?), spoiler for TG: Maverick (if you squint) Summary: Rooster and Kennedy lay all their cards on the table.

A/N: This was written because I was trying to pass the time before it was acceptable to go to bed. Thank you to @anna-phora, who gave me the prompt: Kennedy and Rooster admitting their feelings. Enjoy, my friend. (and enjoy this repurposed gif from Kennedy's intro gifset)

“I remember you from my first night, you know.”

Kennedy looked up from her whiskey and met his eyes. Her eyes narrowed at him, unsure if they were thinking of the same night. “You do?”

He hummed, taking a sip of his beer. “You were heading out when I walked in.”

“Strutted in, you mean.”

Rooster’s mouth turned up in a crooked half-smile, and he looked at her like he saw her soul and never wanted to look at anything else again. Kennedy felt naked under the intensity of his gaze, and she had to turn her eyes away in an effort to fight the blood rushing to her cheeks.

“You saw me, too.”

Kennedy scoffed. “No,” she told him half-heartedly. “You strut everywhere.”

“Zero.”

“Hm?” She swirled the whiskey in her glass, watched the amber liquid wet the sides, and heard the ice spin. She felt her heart beating in her throat, and the blush she’d been trying to fight back took over and warmed her ears. She knew he was looking at her with those hazel eyes that made it hard to concentrate on anything else.

“Kennedy, look at me.”

“What?” She snapped, meeting those stupid eyes of his. While she’d been staring at her drink, he had gotten off his bar stool. He stood right next to her, his warmth all-encompassing and the scent of his cologne and sweat filling her nostrils. From this close, she could see the specks of green in his eyes, the individual hairs of that ridiculous mustache, and the scars on his chin and jawline. “What?” She whispered as he leaned forward and down towards her so they were face to face.

“I saw you,” he whispered back, their breaths mingling. “And I thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.”

She nodded, her breath caught in her throat. “You say that to all the girls, Lieutenant?”

A brief chuckle escaped him, his eyes glancing down at her mouth. “No, Lieutenant. Just you.”

Without another second of hesitation, their lips crashed together. Kennedy easily stood from her stool and met him in a blazing heat of heavy breaths and exploring hands. The world stood still and spun at the speed of light simultaneously, and he felt like magic.

Kennedy could have carried on like this with him for an eternity and never grow tired of it, which scared her enough to pull away. “Stop,” she said, breathless.

“What, did I hurt you?”

She chuckled at the concern in his voice. “No, but…” she trailed off.

He leaned back, his brows drawn together in confusion. “But what?”

Kennedy let her arms fall back at her side, took a small step away from him, and groaned loudly. “I like you, Rooster. A lot,” she concluded, but she didn’t like the smile forming on his face again. “Don’t look at me like that, okay? I know I sound like I’m fourteen.”

He just grinned. “You’re in luck, Quinn,” he said slowly, stepping back into her personal space. “I like you, too.”

“I’m serious, Bradley,” she told him, voice shaking. “You could get killed on this mission, and even if you don’t, you’re going back to Virginia, and I’ll be here. I’m not following you out there.”

Somewhere over the course of her speech, Rooster had frozen in front of her. She didn’t want to look up at him again and find his features distorted and confused, but she braved it. She hadn’t expected to find his head slightly tilted, looking at her like she’d hung the moon.

She raised a brow at him with a hesitant smile. “What?”

He shook his head a little. “Nothing,” he mumbled, taking her face between his large hands and bringing their lips together again. “You don’t have to follow me anywhere. I’ll follow you.”

❋❋❋

all or nothing taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @arrthurpendragon, @ocappreciationtag, @jvstjewels, @cas-verse, @chickensarentcheap, @waterloou, @asirensrage, @misskatiewrites, @stanshollaand, @eddiemunscns

top gun oc tags: @anna-phora, @itsjustgracy, @captainrcgers

[lukoleoleole]

The votes are in!

Good Girls Appreciation Week 2022 will take place Sunday, August 7th through Saturday, August 13th.

WHAT IS IT?

Good Girls Appreciation Week 2022 is seven straight days of dedicated fans creating and sharing new content showing their love for the show. Each day of the week has a specific theme voted by fans to interpret as creatively as they like!

I don't know about you guys, but life has been more depressing than usual lately and Good Girls gives us an escape. Let's have some fun with this!!

WHAT ARE THE THEMED DAYS?

Y'all voted and here they are:

WHO PARTICIPATES?

Everybody! Creators create, and the larger fandom boosts those creations with likes and (especially!) reblogs to spread the joy.

It’s a great time for people that have thought about trying their hand at content creation to give it a go!

#GGAW2022

More details under the cut.

HOW DO I PARTICIPATE?

You can participate as much or as little as you like. If just one day speaks to you, create content based on that theme. Post it on the allotted day with the designated hashtag, and boom, you’ve participated!

Several people have already expressed interest in what kind of content they’d like to contribute, but there’s no official sign-up. You can lurk for a few days, get a feel for it, and then post, or you can start planning and creating now, waiting for the official week to post.

WHAT ARE THE RULES?

I know rules are lame but we have to make this thing a somewhat official thing somehow 😂. There are 6 important rules of #ggaw2022 so that we see a #GGAW2022 post when we see it:

Keep it positive! This means when you’re focusing on your love of A, B, or C, you avoid tearing down X, Y, and Z in the process.

Spread the love! Like the posts you see and encourage content creators, old and especially new! Hit that reblog button a little more often. The fandom benefits when we support each other and encourage newbies to try their hand at creating something. Let creators know what you think they’ve done especially well by leaving positive tags and/or dropping a note in their inbox!

Use the designated hashtag! Tag all posts #ggaw2022 so that anyone following the tag can see all the new content as its uploaded.

Use headings or captions! Try to use a heading or caption that alludes to which day you are posting for, e.g. “Day 2: Favorite Location - The Park.”

Post within your timezone! The days last a little longer here in Good Girls Land where time is fake and everyone counts on their fingers! Don't worry about calculating numbers—the day starts at 12:01 am and ends at 11:59 pm in whatever timezone you happen to be in.

Do your best! Try your best to post by the designated day, but remember: this is supposed to be fun. If you miss the designated day but are still really inspired to make or finish something for it, share it anyway!

WHAT TYPE OF CONTENT SHOULD WE SHARE?

Literally anything that makes you feel some sort of way. Gifsets, videos, photo manipulations & edits, moodboards, drabbles or short fics, imagines, metas, fanart, playlists, and whatever else you can think of! Wanna make a cross-stitch pattern and share it with the rest of us? Wanna make a list of GG-inspired recipes? Want to make a movie poster? Go for it!

WHAT ABOUT PROMPTS?

The survey showed me how many ideas y'all have for this so we'll try this! Submit them to my inbox (@peachraindrops) anon or not, whatever feels best, and I'll post them all in an inspiration post a week from today, July 20th, 2022 in an aggregated (and nameless!) list. The prompts will be used for creators to draw inspiration from and maybe even hit a few of your favorite things!

FINALLY:

We all want to see these themes the way you interpret them! Again, the more creative, the better. In the end, I just hope this brings a little bit of joy back into everyone's lives because that's what we need right now, right?!

& the final finally:

thanks to everyone for all of the excitement and participation, and even more finally to @foxmagpie for letting me rip most of this post from GGAW2021. I would have been lost trying to figure this out without something so detailed to go off lol.

Reblog to spread the word!

[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!)

[s2willbyers]

sorry in advance but i love snooping around and being a hater lol anyway found this gif in a milkvam gifset first of all. march 27 is first and foremost frank oharas birthday and then mariah careys and then mine and then willel wondertwins hug day and never milkvam whatever day but also SO FUNNY op chose this shot WITH WILL IN THE BACKGROUND LIKE 😭😭😭😭😭 im not going to sit here and pretend i have faith in the duffers re: gay people bc i dont but like fr why did you choose this shot for ur gifset SORRY i feel like im being overly mean im not trying to be but like GIRL. use the other shot or at least crop the scene so you cant see will standing there 😭😭 sorry sorry. but like really truly. come on now.

EDIT: sorry even funnier that it gets followed up with his love confession. oh you mean the one that was prompted by will implicitly through painting lie and explicitly by violently jabbing at mike when he thinks his sister is going to die. HELLO

[dyke-fruit]

the locked tomb series & shoot for those fandom asks ❤️

was HOPING someone would ask about the locked tomb !!! >:) thank you.

the locked tomb

fav character: god. GOD? wait no, not literally god. harrow. i think i switch between harrow and gideon (currently re-reading gtn and am LOVING gideon...) but harrow.

least fav character: hmm. ACTUALLY god i guess. and silas octakiseron.

5 fav ships: harrow/gideon. palamedes/camilla (and dulcie and/or pyrrha). coronabeth/ianthe (i will say NOTHING!). harrow/ianthe.

most attractive: camilla or coronabeth. i'm a slut for a pretty girl, what can i say. (harrow, sometimes).

would marry: oh GOD. they're all so dreadful. i WANT to marry harrow but she'd be mean to me and i would cry. so maybe not. corona is too much for me to handle. camilla hides her feelings too much for me. gah.

would be besties: i HOPE i could be besties with gideon. i want to be so badly.

random thought: why, in the absence of each other, do both gideon and harrow turn to ianthe?? what is it ABOUT HER?? (i get it)

unpopular opinion: i'm not... hugely versed enough in the fandom to know what's popular/unpopular, but maybe mine is that i think palamedes and camilla being cousins makes it better :)

canon otp: what IS canon, really? are cam/pal canon? i mean. griddlehark is canon in that they both obviously love each other, but WHAT does canon mean for them?????

non-canon otp: gideon/harrow. i thought nona had made me okay with not having them anymore, but in my current reread i was reminded that i'm insane about them. thanks.

most badass character: camilla hect. bar none.

most epic villain: not john:) he's not even epic:) maybe wake!

pairing i don't like: i don't really like kiriona/ianthe but it's growing on me, slowly.

character i feel the writer screwed up: mmm, i don't know! i don't have strong opinions re: this

fav friendship: oooooo... nona/camilla/palamedes/pyrrha?

character i most identify with: gideon <3

character i wish i could be: pyrrha dve!!! but also camilla.

root/shaw

when i started shipping them: funnily enough, i remember asking a mutual at the time which one was which in her gifsets. i was into them from the beginning and started the show bc of them <3 best idea ever

my thoughts: a delightfully vague prompt. well, they're it! i love them a lot. i love root so much. i love shaw an insane amount. it's rare that i tend to love two characters in a ship equally, and these two are probably the only ship i have that i don't like one over the other. they're both my lil meow meows

what makes me happy: they're kinky, they're made for each other, they're specifically made puzzle pieces that fit just right. shaw is angry and expresses her feelings only rarely and root is okay with that! bc she loves her! and doens't need to hear it! just needs to hold shaw's hand every once in a while

what makes me sad: The Day The World Went Away.

things in fanfic that annoy me: ummmm. general stuff like characterization, etc. other than that, i'm not super picky.

things i look for in fanfic: shaw bottoming <3

wishlist: seeing as this is a show long gone... my wishlist is that they live happy ever after and kick some ass

who they could end up w, if not each other: hmm. usually i'm okay with multishipping but i think both root and shaw are like, not people who would just "end up with" someone else. they choose each other specifically, and without them, they would just be alone (not in sad way!)

happily ever after: see wishlist

ask me stuff from this list:)

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Sunday, October 2

Willow: Snyder must be in charge of the volunteer safety program for Halloween this year. Xander: Note his interesting take on the volunteer concept. Buffy: What's the deal? Xander: Oh, a bunch of little kids need people to take them trick-or- treating. Sign up and get your own pack of sugar-hyped little runts for the night. Buffy: Yikes. I'll stick to vampires.

~~Halloween~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

this hell is better with you (Buffy/Faith, G) by gallifreyanlostintheuniverse

Whumptober 2022 Prompt No. 2-Nowhere To Run (Crossver with Supernatural, NR) by stargazingspuffy

Equi Feri (Buffy/Giles, G) by RG1954

The Hoops of Flame (Spike/Angel, M) by Anonymous

Washer at the Ford (Angel/Cordelia, M) by Lostakasha

Into Every Stranger Generation (Crossover with Stranger Things, M) by eddiemunsons80sbaby

[Chaptered Fiction]

Where Will I Meet My Fate, Chapter 2 (Angel/Cordelia, T) by FanFreak611

The Gift of Baldur's Gate 2: The Search for Dawn, Chapter 1 (Crossover with Baldur's Gate/Dungeons and Dragons, T) by BrennaLynn

Batman: The Buffy Chronicles, Chapter 1 (Crossover with Batman, T) by BrennaLynn

The Real McCoy, Chapter 15 (Ensemble, T) by michael t

Buffy and the Lost City of the Dead, Chapter 8 (Buffy/Spike, R) by JaneRemmington

Vacation with a vampire, Chapter 5 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Coraline

i'm only man (with a candle to guide me), Chapter 2 (Buffy/Spike, R) by trevino

Daughter of Aurelius, Chapter 51 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Loup Noir

Off My Rocker, Chapter 2 (Buffy/Spike/Drusilla, R) by Desicat

Learning to Be Love's Bitch, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by Desicat

Adventures of a Super Family, Chapter 107 (Crossover with Supergirl, FR13) by Philister

It Devours, Chapter 1 (Crossover with Marvel, FR13) by Buffyworldbuilder

Echoes of Beljoxa, Chapter 1 (Spike/Buffy, 18+) by myrabeth

What Makes a Monster, Chapter 7 (Spike/Buffy, 18+) by SleepingTigress

Chapter (Spike/Buffy, ) by

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork: Spike/William the Bloody made in MS Paint by Key_Shallot_2415

Artwork: Sunnypops! by illustrated_mixtape

Meme: Mean Girls (Sunnydale Edition) by gimmesomespace

Manip: it's better than I ever knew (PG-13) by scratchmeout

Comic: D-straction Day: All Night Long Issue #2 (NSFW) by HappyWhenItRains

Artwork:BTVS “Every Outfit” “Goodbye Iowa” Xx by whatshisfaceblogs

Meme: BTVS romancebookmemes by authordeeplex

Gifset: ↬ 1.04: “teacher’s pet” by buffy-the-slay3r

Gifset:👻 HALLOWEEN 2022 👻 day two • buffy the vampire slayer by meliorn

Gifset: ↳ 4.01: “The Freshman” by mr-giles

Gifset:4.09 “Something Blue” | 7.13 “The Killer in Me” by spikedaily

Gifset:5.05 | “No Place Like Home” by schrutedwight

[Reviews & Recaps]

Boys ‘N’ Ghouls Film Review Podcast: Episode 244 – Buffy the Vampire Slayer TV Series by Black Cat Film Productions

Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season Two, Episode Fourteen: Innocence by Slayed! The Buffyverse Revisited Podcast

Buffy 3x10 - Amends - REACTION! Oz... Come on man! by Big Time Knights

ONE FLEW OVER THE BUFFY'S NEST! Buffy, the Vampire Slayer 6x17 'Normal Again' Reaction! by Elie Moses

no. - Buffy the Vampire Slayer Reaction - 5x16 - The Body by TheLexiCrowd

Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Season 2) Episodes Ranked | THE CHERRY PICKER After Dark (PREVIEW) by The Cherry Picker

Introducing: "The Rewatcher: Buffy The Vampire Slayer" by Weird Darkness

[Fandom Discussions]

[none of the characters even understand souls] by deadwivesclub

Drusilla's name by nightshade and Octavia

Giles/Ripper or William/Spike by multiple authors

Too many deaths by multiple authors

Angel Season 5 Rewatch - #17 Underneath (SPOILERS) by Involvere and GoSpuffy

This is a shout out to the foley artists by skinky-dink

Wesley's expression in this pic would be my expression if I could ever see Faith in real life lol. I love the drama in Orpheus. What are everyone's opinions on the episode? by multiple authors

What was the best-acted scene in the series? by multiple authors

A moment to appreciate Fred and Spike's friendship by multiple authors

Poll: who did you prefer with giles? by multiple authors

Any characters you wish you saw have more one on one scenes or a centric episode on them by multiple authors

Poll: Saddest Buffy Summers quote? by multiple authors

Not sure if this is a theory or if it’s a super common view by multiple authors

Aresteia by Moon_Logic and multiple authors

[Articles, Interviews, and Other News]

INTERVIEW: David Boreanaz Talks Being Part of Potential 'Angel' Reunion via popculture.

PUBLICATION: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Is Setting the Stage for a Spike/Xander Romance via ScreenRant

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Join the editor team :)

[shorkbrian]

I dont usually send in things to anyone, but I felt like I had to send this because I love your account so much. I get so excited when I see that you posted and all your writing are always soooooo good! Your new kiri fic was amazing btw. I was also wondering if there was gonna be anymore creepy sero cause that shit was gooood. Thanks and keep up the good work :) x

Don’t mind me I’m over here just SAWBING

                                            A HELPING HAND

Prelude - I saw some fan art of Sero with a skateboard and I have decided that is the only criticism I will accept about his canon character. Lil tape elbow child totally has the skateboard & stoner vibe. My interpretation of Sero does a horrible thing by talking reader into touching him. Don’t do that. Reader is obviously uncomfortable and he completely ignores that. That’s creepy. He tries to pass off his actions as ‘normal’, which is also creepy. He threatens to slander reader for not doing what he wants them to do, which is maybe the biggest creepy. Sero is not a good dude here.

Prompt - Right at the top bby 

Pairing -  Sero Hanta X Reader

Warnings - Coercion, dub-con. NSFW. Non-con.

Music - https://youtu.be/rY8H-vztguQ

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Sero tugged at your wrist excitedly, leading you towards his dorm. He had sprung on you the second you got out of the locker rooms after training. Luckily it was your last class of the day, so Sero wasn’t making you miss school. He would do that often, tugging you away from your friends to show you a new video or gifset he had found.

You hadn’t been in his room before, but it was no big surprise. It was a regular bedroom, dark covers on his bed, posters on the wall. A skateboard rested in the corner, and you noticed a humidifier on his otherwise-bare desk. A skateboard? Sure. But you had never pegged him as the type to own - or even know - what a humidifier was. Did he have asthma? Probably had something to do with the amount of weed he smoked. You could detect a faint trace of it in the air, skunky-smelling, making your face twist with each breath.

Sero was excited, his movements jerky and fast as he let go of your wrist, moving to shuffle around the blankets on his bed as he searched for whatever it is he wanted to show you. When he had accosted you, he had snatched your wrist, pulling you along as he explained that there was something he wanted to show you. You hoped it wasn’t anything weird. You didn’t exactly like it when the black-haired boy showed you the lewd things he found on the internet, but Sero never seemed to pick up on your discomfort. But this was what friends did, so you guessed it was fine.

With a cheery “Aha!” Sero pulled his laptop out from amid the covers, turning to show you with a grin on his face. He sat on the bed, patting the space beside him to indicate where he wanted you to be. 

“Are we watching a movie?”

That’d be fun. You had been wanting to see the new John Wick movie, but none of the girls had wanted to go with you. Maybe Sero had heard you complaining and pirated the movie for you. He was nice like that.

Sero shrugged, squishing closer to you as you sat down. “Something like that.” 

He scooted back, and you gasped as tape wrapped around your waist, dragging you along the bed until you were seated beside him, back against the wall, pressed against his side. 

“Ah, didn’t mean to scare you man! Thought this would just be more comfortable.”

The male grinned at you, his teeth bared in a leering smile as he flipped open the laptop, booting it up. You shrugged, attention drawn to the site that was already plastered across the screen, still there from the last time he had used his laptop.

Pornhub.

Of course.

Irritation bubbled up within you. This had been going on for months now, Sero taking you aside to show you inappropriate things, ask you what you thought of them. You never knew what to say, blushing and stammering at the naked bodies splayed across the screen.

Enough was enough. You needed to stand up for yourself.

“Jeez, seriously Sero??!”

“What?”

“This is too far! I dont like doing this, it’s weird and it makes me feel uncomfortable.”

Sero’s shocked face collapsed as he did, sniggering at your vexed expression.

“Oh my god, (Y/N) are you PMS’ing?”

Would it be bad if you slapped him? You settled for scoffing, moving to scoot off the bed.

“That’s it, I’m leaving. You’re being gross Sero.”

“Wait, aww, C’mon!”

Tape wrapped around your waist again, pulling you back to your previous position.

“SERO! Stop-“

He leaned against your arm, giving you a sly smirk.

“(Y/N), I’m just trying to help you relieve some stress! Having outbursts like this can’t be good for you. You just need to relax.”

Sero winked at you before pulling away, turning back to his laptop and tapping away.  You spluttered, angry and confused.

“Stress relief? How is this relaxing?? I don’t want to watch two people bone, especially while I’m sitting next to my friend.”

You frowned at him, but Sero seemed unperturbed.

“You don’t masturbate after? Wow, no wonder you’re so cranky all the time.”

“You show me during lunch!!!!! What do you expect, that I’ll drop my pants right there and go after it?!?”

Sero stopped typing, turning to look at you.

“Well, If exhibitionism is your thing, sure. Personally I just go jack off in the bathroom, but you do you.”

You turned red at his blatant admission, afraid to even ask what “exhibitionism”  was. Sero was entirely comfortable with sex and the like, but you were a bit more reserved. 

Turning the laptop so the both of you could easily see, Sero turned your attention to the screen. You were so irritated, so confused and exasperated and bewildered at his behavior, at the casual way he talked about this sort of thing. Noticing your squirming, picking at the tape around your waist, Sero sighed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“(Y/N), I’m trying to help you. I want you to  be comfortable around this sort of thing. Denki and I do this all the time - if it makes you feel better I can text him and he can watch too?”

“NO!-“ You covered your face with your hands. ‘I just…… I don’t know….. guess I’m embarrassed….”

It was awkward sitting here with Sero, you couldn’t even imagine how weird it would be for Denki to join the two of you.

Sero rubbed your shoulder soothingly, giving you a reassuring smile.

“It’s fine, I remember being weirded out by all this stuff before I knew what it was. Lucky for you that I’m here.”

He started the video

----

You cringed at the fake moans coming from the laptop speakers, face hot and flushed as Sero kept making commentary and asking you questions to keep your attention on the video. He had already played a few, insisting you stay until he found one to “fit the mood”. You don’t know why you had agreed. Maybe because the videos had sparked a tiny flame in your stomach, making you subtly shift your thighs as you tried to alleviate the throbbing in between your legs. Maybe because the tape was still wrapped around your waist. 

“Hey, I don’t mind if you feel like touching yourself.”

“What!?!?!”

You gaped at Sero in shock, trying to process what he just said. He had seen you, noticed you rubbing your thighs together. You wanted to die from embarrassment.  You would never dream of touching yourself like that that in front of your friend; even getting caught clenching your thighs was humiliating. it was too awkward and he might think you’re weird and-

“Here, I’ll help.”

A hand thumbed at the waistband of your shorts, fingers barely dipping past before you were shoving at Sero, panicked.

“No! No it’s okay! Please don’t!”

The male retracted his hands, holding them both up in defeat as he chuckled.

“Yo, no worries man. Just thought I’d try and make you feel good.”

That was nice of him, but no. Your lower parts already had a tingly sense to them, a pleasurable throbbing that made you bite your lip. You ached to touch yourself, fondle your clit and pinch at it until you came, follow Sero’s advice and relieve some stress. But you could do that later, back in your own room. It felt too weird to do that in front of Sero.

You were so lost in thought that you didn’t notice the black haired male thumbing at the button of his jeans, unzipping them, sliding them off his hips. A throaty groan snapped you back to the present, and you let out a nervous “Oh” at the sight that greeted you.

Sero was palming himself over his boxers, a noticeable bulge present. They were damp in one spot, wet enough that they stuck to the head of his cock, hidden every few seconds as he rubbed his fingers over the bulge. 

This was even more awkward.

You felt like you should leave, and you wanted to, but Sero’s voice stopped you before you could even begin moving off the bed or picking at the tape that held you.

“Wait! Iit’s just about to get good, look.”

Your eyes returned to the laptop screen, just in time to see the man slip his dick inside the wet opening of his female partner. 

You felt strangely uneasy, your ears burning. Sero had never gone this far before when he was showing you things-

“(Y/N), can you-shit- can you c’mere?” There was a look in his eye, calculating, watching you tremble as you tried to decide whether to obey or not. You didn’t like this, didn’t feel comfortable. This felt too intimate for two friends. You opened your mouth to speak as you moved to scramble off the bed, tell Sero that you were tired and you were going to go rest, but he cut you off before you could speak.

“C’mon, don’t be mean. I was going tome you feel good before you turned chicken earlier…. You aren’t gonna even try to return the favor?”

“Sero I-“

He clicked his tongue, recognizing your tone of voice. It was the one you used to get away, to escape whenever he would talk about sex, to make excuses when he offered to teach you how to kiss. He picked up his phone, simultaneously pausing the video.

“What are you doing?”

Your tone had switched, now scared and shaky as he began tapping at his phone.  He didn’t even look up as he answered, palm still slipping up and down his clothed length.

“I’m texting the boy’s group chat. They get how frustrating it is when girls pretend like it’s a big deal.” Black eyes met yours as Sero glanced up at you, voice low and dangerous. “Especially when they act like horny little sluts, trying to get themselves off first and then leave you hanging.”

You didn’t like this.

That’s not what had happened.

“Anways-“ Tone chipper again, Sero flicked his eyes back to his phone. “The boys’ll understand; we vent about bitchy girls all the time, helps us feel better about getting denied yanno?”

You weren’t a bitch. You weren’t a horny slut either. Maybe you were just making too big of a deal about it? You clenched your fists.

You slowly crawled back over to Sero, and the male lowered his phone as you did so.

“I-I just.... I’ve never….. ‘M sorry.”

A hand came up to pat your head, and he pressed play on the video again. “It’s okay.” he grabbed your hand as you settled down beside him again, stomach doing flips. “Make me feel good?”

You hesitated, pulling against his grip as he tried to lower your hand to his crotch. Sero quirked an eyebrow.

“It’s just a hand job, stop freaking out over it. It’s not even sex.”

You cringed at his choice of words, wanting to recoil and run out of his room, wash your hands and scrub your ears with soap. This all felt wrong.  But if it wasn’t sex? Plus, you didn’t want Sero laughing with his friends about how much of a slut you were, what a bitch you had been for leading him on.   You let him guide your hand to his lap, and he pulled down his boxers.

“See? Nothing to be scared of. I’ll talk you through it.”

You didn’t like looking between his legs, averting your eyes to the porn playing on the laptop. You flinched when you touched him too, your hands meeting warm flesh. He brought your hand up to his mouth, and to your surprise, spat into it before he guided it back down. This felt disgusting and slimy and gros- Your thoughts were interrupted by his low moan when his hand wrapped yours around his shaft.

“Oh, that feels good.”

You didn’t know what to say. His hand covered yours as he guided you into pumping along the length, jerking himself off with your hand in slow motions.

“Maybe when I’m done, you might be in the mood for me to make you feel good too.”

You wondered if the nausea bubbling up in your stomach was normal.

[firesign23]

JB Smutswap Recs

So, before the big author reveal of the @jb-smut-swap, I thought I’d rec a dozen of my personal favourites--ones I adored, or feel were overlooked, or a combination thereof. Dirty confession: I am a few fics shy of completion in my reading, and I saved some I knew would wreck me for the end. So chalk any egregious gaps up to that. 😂

crosslines, the scratches and stains--This is my gift fic so I’m BIASED, but I’mma rec it anyway. Sex bruises! Partners who can laugh! Jaime “The Diver” Lannister with his chin soaked after some A+ oral! It’s got great images AND a great JB dynamic of partners who like to push each others’ buttons.

Binary Explosive--holy shit, established relationship competence kink danger fucking? This fic went for the throat faster than a mosquito on a muggy summer night. 

Hush--Landscape porn. Emotional porn. Porn porn. There are elements of this that have seared themselves onto my soul and I have no choice but to live with it forever. A very sincere Fuck You to the author. They know what they did.

Jaime’s Game--Soft, soft bondage and caretaking. I’m needier than Jaime in this fic when that’s on the table, sorry. 

I'll never let you go (if you promise not to fade away)--Probably not the threesome people expected me to rec (my weakness for JAB is well documented, but I’ve not actually gotten there on my reading yet), but this one captured me with its worldbuilding and complex and interesting Cersei. It’s so easy to make her the villain of the piece, one dimensional and cruel, and the author managed to infuse her with sharp edges and such yearning that I fell hard and fast for the story. 

Clothes (un)Make the Man--Look, I am a simple creature: I see clothes swapping, I go feral. Whatever. I’m too old to feel guilty about this. 

with those who know secret things-- I’m willing to bet real money I’ve already recced this author on this list, but I cannot let such a loving, tender story go uncommented upon. It has so many things that make me weak--well-handled sex work, touch starvation, tenderness. Have I said tender enough already? Because it’s really fucking tender.

Thrust Exercises--Affection and strip sparring and just such a genuine connection and agency in an arranged marriage fic? Slay me like one of your Tarth girls. 

want your heart to beat for me--I say this with all the love in my heart, but this is a classic trope for a REASON and this went and gave me feelings. I mean, all the fics did. But when compiling this list I went “Which is the one that does [redacted trope moment]?” and this was the answer

Nights Avoiding Things Unholy--I have never been so thirsty for dick in my life, the tension in this is fucking lethal. 

we used to wait--I adore the non-linear use of time, the glimpses of their jobs, the sense of a tightrope act of balance as they circle around each other. Just fantastic tension. And pool sex. *chef’s kiss*

what is dark in me illumine--No. I mean, obviously yes, it’s on the list. But no. 

BAKER’S DOZEN IS STILL A DOZEN:

Light my Fire--Did @forbiddenfantasies1 and I both prompt the union suit gifset in the hopes of doubling our horny chances? YOU CAN PROVE NOTHING. But if we had, our machinations paid off better than a Tyrell plot, in a fun, hot coworkers-to-lovers idiot speedrun. Genius.

[pynkhues]

Hi, Sophie. I need some advice, and I understand if you aren't comfortable with responding, however I trust your opinion and your perspective which is why I've come to you (this might get long). I am feeling extremely and increasingly despondent about my place in the Good Girls fandom, to the point where I just don't want to write any more. This saddens me, as I enjoy creating content immensely, however I feel my work does not get the same engagement of works with equal merit,

particularly in regards to making it on to the rec lists that circulate a lot. I engage with the fandom, I’m enthusiastic about other’s work and encourage them to create, I consider myself to be a fandom member who understands this place is built on reciprocal engagement however I just don’t feel like I get any love back. This in turn makes me feel like I am genuinely not a good writer, despite my own belief to the contrary, and to wonder if I’m embarrassing myself by even bothering to continue.

I’ve asked for constructive feedback and been honest about not having a bruised ego if people were to tell me why my work doesn’t resonate with them as much as others, however this hasn’t come to anything (do people not do concrit any more?). How do I figure out where I’m going wrong? I know everyone likes to push the platitude of ‘fandom isn’t about receiving glory from others’ but with respect I think that’s an incredibly dismissive attitude to have (not that you appear to have that opinion),

(last message I promise!) particularly when fandom is entirely about interaction and content creation, and the symbiotic relationship between the consumer and the creator. I want people to engage with my work more, what’s the secret?

Hi! I’m so sorry it’s taken a week or so to get to this – it’s just been a bit of wild time lately for a whole suite of work and personal reasons.  

Thank you for reaching out though! And I’m not uncomfortable at all with these sorts of questions. I think it opens up a really interesting conversation, which I’ll circle back to in a sec, but before I get into that, I want to say that I’m really sorry that you’re feeling despondent about your place in the GG fandom! I can’t speak to your specific experience of course, but I will say that I get where you’re coming from. I think it’s something that affects all of us at varying points, including myself, and I think that the sort of despondency you’re talking about is really something that taps into questions of any sort of creative landscape where people are creating and consuming work.

(Under a cut, because this reply is a little meandering, a little personal, annnnd about 4.5k words, haha)

It’s an interesting point too, because I think when we talk about this, we tend to think both of creative communities and/or fandoms as only having these sorts of issues when they’re BIG communities or BIG fandoms, but that’s not true at all. To me the reality of any sort of community – whether that be a million-person Marvel fandom or three-person knitting club – is that you have people wanting to connect with others, and, with the added factor of some of those people having a creative output within that community (whether that be through writing, art, gifsets or a really great set of mittens), you have an added level of vulnerability and investment.

People aren’t just seeking connection, they’re seeking - - well.

A whole lot more.

And you thread the needles of some of the issues of that really well in your ask too. Those three needles being engagement with your work, popularity of certain people, and how that’s bred an insecurity in your own work.

And seriously, as someone who’s worked extensively with creative communities, and on-and-off in cultural production for the last ten years? These are concerns that I think are endemic in all of these spaces; although perhaps I’d articulate them slightly differently.

You say engagement, popularity and the work.

I say community, profile and craft.

Potato, po-tah-toh, haha.

Ultimately these are three things that depend on each other just as much as they exist entirely independently of one another. It’s like a weird, polyamorous relationship that at its best works great and creates a thriving, mutually beneficial environment for people to grow and develop and engage, and at its worst is a totally toxic clusterfuck. Realistically though, this is a spectrum not an either-or scenario, which means probably 98% of the time a community space really is something in-between.

Unpacking the ecosystem of that I think is pretty crucial to the questions that you’re asking, so I hope you don’t mind me using this time as a bit of a launchpad to talk about those things.

Community

During my arts touring days, I used to see a lot of misconceptions around how communities came to be. There tended to very much be this ‘If You Build It, They Will Come’ ideology, which is really not the case at all. Sometimes that might work, but most of the time, community builds from the ground up, not the top down. It begins through – usually – a few people coming together out of need or want or passion, and then if enough people have that need, that want, that passion, that community will likely grow. That growth though is usually championed by certain members of said community, because communities do tend to need - - not leaders per se, but people who are invested and drive things that create space for engagement.

Fandom’s not any different at all, and in that sense the communities are built similarly around participation, trust, discussion and content, things I don’t really feel like I need to elaborate on because you clearly know that from your ask, and most of this post is going to be about the last of those things, but I think it’s just worth mentioning. Particularly because I want to add to that that in my experience, communities are also usually built pretty strongly around regularity.

For a show like Good Girls it’s kind of great because that regularity is built into the DNA of traditional TV – it airs weekly as opposed to being dropped in bingeable packets. So that sort of gives you this in-built ten, thirteen, eleven, soon-to-hopefully-be-sixteen weeks where there are appointments for engagement. As a part of that, you get an organic flurry of activity and a degree of commitment from people participating, which is further bolstered by the time in-between episodes having drops of sneak peek clips and promo pictures which in turn bolster speculation, theorising, and a hunger for creative content i.e. fic, art and gifsets.

Working in cultural production, we typically call this ‘appointment programming’ because the idea is that you build community around a regular event. People put it in their diaries, and choose to show-up. It used to be integral to TV, but it’s becoming far less so, but that’s a whole other thing. Appointment programming though encompasses a lot more than just TV viewing, it’s a part of our international cultural ecosystem – it’s festivals and cons, it’s touring concerts and shows, it’s showcases, it’s workshops – it’s anything that builds engagement around a specific experience, at a specific time.

The reason I bring this up is that to me – from my years of experience in fandom and natural tendency to think a lot about / dissect things that I participate in, haha – is that I think fandom spaces typically continue this appointment programming and production beyond the parameters of the content itself. We see this through conventions, fanfic big bangs and other challenges, awards, events, as well as just regular content generation.

Good Girls in particular has a lot of community-driven appointment programming. There’s the weekly re-watch I’ve done on here since August last year, as well as back in 2019, there’s @foxmagpie’s Good Girls’ Appreciation Week, @nottonyharrison’s fic awards, prompt-a-thon and kinkfest, the new fic awards too which are going around, as well as fic authors who publish regularly or on a fixed schedule - @fairhairedkings’ FBI fic I think being the best example of that.

But it’s not even always that structured. I’ll talk about this a bit more in my section on Profile below, but I think this extends to asks and replies. Basically to the expectation of content, whether that be gifs or art or fic or meta or surveys or rec lists, or some combination of all of the above.

I categorically hate the term, but the reason ‘Big Name Fans’ become ‘Big Name Fans’ are usually because their blogs become touchstones for more content (whether that’s original or sharing other people’s), which in turn means occasionally some voices can generate a profile that makes them sort of central figures of the broader community – because there’s this guarantee that you’re gonna go there and you’re gonna get regularly fed. Their blogs, including mine I think, become in and of themselves sort of ‘appointment programming’. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings on this in particular, both good and bad, but my feelings on it don’t particularly matter in this context, haha, so I’m going to leave that thread there.

The point I’m getting at is that while a community builds organically, a community, like anything, needs to be fed to grow, and that people are more likely to engage when they’re being fed regularly.

Look at this way, I was definitely at my most popular in this fandom when I was more or less posting an instalment of Playing House every week. Like, seriously - -

And that was on top of answering between three and ten asks a day.

In that sense, I think that outputs got a lot to do with engagement, particularly in smaller fandoms. There are fewer content producers, which I think bolsters the profile of the one’s posting a lot, regularly, which I think in turn can have the unfortunate trickle down effects too where other members of the fandom see there as being this wall and hierarchy that doesn’t necessarily actually exist, simply because certain names become prevalent.

I think if you come from a big fandom where there are 50, 100, 250 big content producers, it’s a bit more liberating and a lot easier to ‘curate your experience’ so to speak, whereas perhaps in a small fandom, like Good Girls, where there maaaaybe 15 regular content creators, that’s a lot harder. In the end I think that some people feel like you have to like and follow certain people and their work (you don’t!), that ‘it’s cool’ to not like those people (it’s not!), and that certain voices are being ‘silenced’ simply because they don’t have the same profile for whatever reason. Unfortunately that’s hard to get out of, because being in a small fandom is the equivalent of being in a very small, very hot room with not a lot of people, but enough that you’re going to bump into literally everyone on your way in and out of it.

(This is a bit of an aside, but I just want to say that that things do get personal in communities because you do get to know people and have relationships and they can end badly. It also sucks when those personal issues with members of the community bleed over and become public and make the space overall a bit shit. I’m very much guilty of this and will own that, but I have been trying hard to do better, and have completely stopped certain behaviours.

All that said, I do want to flag here that the very nature of this post means I’m going to be honest about my experiences. It’s not meant as subtags or as pointed comments, it’s just - - me talking about said experiences. If these people do still stalk my blog, which well - - I know they do because other people send me shit, haha, I hope that they don’t take any of this the wrong way).

So yeah – I think smaller fandoms can by their very nature become a bit of a melting pot of personalities which results in engagement becoming politicised. I personally do try to share everyone and to not politicise fic recs. I even rec people I personally don’t get along with if I feel it’s appropriate to do so i.e. my episode fic recs, but I’m pretty aware that that type of engagement is not a courtesy extended back to me. It did bum me out for a hot minute with a couple of people, gotta be honest, haha; one person in particular because I didn’t feel like we had a personal beef prior to her doing this, so I didn’t really understand why she was purposefully excluding me. 

I knew she read my fics, and I knew it was personally targeted because she DM’d a friend (who I don’t think she realised was a friend of mine) and told her not to rec my fics which is – y’know – in my mind just kind of a dick move? (also really weird, like - - people aren’t going to leave the fandom just because you don’t like them, and you can’t omit them to a point they cease to exist lol), but at the end of the day, she can do whatever she wants, and I can’t control her behaviour, but I can control my own and propagate the culture that I want to be a part of.

On the flipside of that though, small fandoms – and bumping into everyone, haha – can also be great! It can foster friendships and relationships that really form the backbone of any community, and it’s really there that a lot of engagement outside of appointment-based consumption comes from. It’s those relationships that build growth and excitement and conversations and ultimately support.

I guess my point here is that often engagement and recs and championing can be a bit personal, and where you fit in a community, your relationships with people – good and bad – impacts the way people engage with your work. The funny thing is though right, like, jumping back a point, you might not even know what the beef someone has with you is. You can’t ever entirely know how people like or dislike you, where ego comes into it (and as someone who’s been in a lot of creative spaces, ego is alwaaaays present), what vulnerabilities and insecurities people have, where people are at in their creative journey, to say nothing of cultural differences in online spaces where people are from all over the world.

It’s complicated, is what I’m getting at, and the I think where you fit in community can have a big impact on how your work is received, even if we all like to say otherwise.  

Profile

Let’s talk about Like an Unsung Chorus.

This is a fic that I wrote back in 2018. At the point of writing this answer, it’s the most kudos’ed fic in the GG category on ao3, and the most bookmarked.

Do I think it’s the best fic in the fandom?

Fuck no, haha. I don’t even think it’s the best fic I’ve written in this fandom, let alone among the rest of the talent we have here.

I think to talk about the success of that fic is to break it down to a few different factors:

I wrote that during the s1/s2 hiatus when there just weren’t that many fics, particularly long running ones, which means there wasn’t a lot of ‘appointment engagements’ for people to tap into. There were some really great ones! Please don’t get me wrong there! But there weren’t a lot.

I published the last chapter the day 2.01 aired, which means it was close to the top of ao3 the day the new season started + new fans arrived, and lapsed fans returned, which means it was a pretty meaty, finished fic for people to jump into straight away.

I created this sideblog a few weeks before I posted the last chapter, and the combination of that + the fic meant people started sending me asks about the show, which I started answering.

It’s been the most kudos’ed fic more or less since then, so it means every wave of new fans who search for Good Girls fic and sort by kudos – for better or worse – see that fic first, and well. Then it’s a self-perpetuating cycle.

Profile’s a funny thing to talk about I think when it comes to fandom because I tend to flip-flop on how much it has an impact on readers specifically. Like – yes, I’m a prolific member of this fandom, and I have the most kudos’ed fic in it, but my Ruby-centred fic Blue Moon only has 31 kudos and 300 hits, and I’d be lying if I said that didn’t sometimes bum me out. I like it as a story, I like that it prioritised character and backstory, I like what I wrote, and it’s not even that it just didn’t resonate, that low number of hits (just as a point of comparison, Chorus has almost 22k hits, and my most-read one-shot in this fandom has 12k hits) tells me a lot of people didn’t even give it a chance.

So in that sense, does profile even matter?

Okay, dumb question, Sophie, haha, yes, of course it has an impact.

I mean, comparing Blue Moon to Chorus is a false dichotomy for starters – one’s character-focused, not ship-focused; one’s a pastiche, the other is a plot heavy canon-extension; one’s a one-shot, one’s got 11 chapters, etc etc, but I do think it’s worth acknowledging what a small percentage of that readership transferred between them. My profile might have made a few people give it a shot, but it certainly didn’t affect all of them.

What I’m getting at here is that I think popularity and profile can often bear more weight in conversation than it does necessarily in reality. I do think that it has weight – I know for instance that some of my weirder concepts like Mick x Mary Pat got more traction than it necessarily would’ve if a brand new author to the fandom had written it – but I also think profile tips the scales in the opposite direction too. I mean I just talked about this but – personal beefs, people with those personal beefs actively encouraging others not to read or rec that person’s fics, people avoiding higher profile authors because they feel ignored by them (rightfully or wrongfully), etc etc.

Profile and popularity is, in a lot of ways, a double edged sword. I think it can bolster interest in your story and amplify your potential audience – particularly if you’re writing a story that hits the right note for people – but I also don’t think engagement is necessarily as symbiotic as you said in your ask.

I mean, I think it helps, but if the way people engaged with our work balanced with the way we engaged with other people’s works, we’d have a very different most kudos’ed fic list on ao3 (and I include myself in that – I’m not the best at commenting, although I do try to share and rec a lot).

So I guess that brings us to craft.

Craft

Like with the other two points, I can’t point solely to the craft of writing as having an answer to your question. I mean, I can’t speak to your writing at all given you’re on anon of course, but I think overall this is a really talented fandom, but it can be hard to predict the fics that strike a chord with people, but then, isn’t that true of all storytelling?

I mean, I could talk forever right now about arcs and scaffolding, emotional beats, thematic throughlines, whatever, but at the end of the day, what hits that note for you is probably different to what hits it for me. The way we engage with stories is subjective, what appeals to us is ultimately manufactured out of our unique histories, experiences, thought processes, desires and a million other things. There isn’t a secret ingredient, no recipe to be followed; if there was, everyone would have the world’s most popular story on their hands.

What’s important is to tell the story that resonates with you, because yeah, you want to be proud of the story that you’re writing, you want to enjoy it, but also that’s the one that’s going to feel authentic to a reader as well, and you do that through knowing who your characters are, what the story you’re telling is, and committing to that. Gosh, that’s why Twilight is cemented in our pop culture history alongside Animal Farm. There’s honesty to experience, whether that be manifesting teenage forever love with vampires or loading up farm animals with Russian Revolution metaphor.

But still, let me switch hats for a minute – fandom Sophie to editor Sophie, haha

Okay. Take all of this with a grain of salt, but here are some things I have noticed when reading fic, not just in this fandom but others too. These are broad, big picture comments – again, I can’t speak to you specifically because you’re on anon, and again, I can’t predict what makes things popular – but again. These are things I’ve pretty actively noticed when reading fic, and could play a role in perhaps a story not resonating as much as the author might want it to:

Missing Scenes

Writers like to skip ahead to the fun bits. That’s fine! Do it! Enjoy it! But when you skip the scenes that impact the next, just because you want to get to the next, your story will feel the loss of it.

That’s one of the best bits of writing advice I ever got actually – if a scene isn’t working, the issue often isn’t with that scene, it’s usually with one of the ones that got you there.

Storytelling is entirely made up of cause and effect, and if you skip out on the cause, the effect’s not going to work.

I’d really encourage you to embrace the unfun scenes, make them work hard with character development, conflict building, mood setting, so that the fun scenes sing.

 Mood

Speaking of, really think about mood. When I’m writing, sometimes I don’t even know the story yet, but I know the mood of what I’m writing, the tone of it. I know if I want it to be fun and flirty or rough and angsty or tight and thrilling, and I try to feel that and imbue that into the process of my writing. Mood goes so far, and it’s what really creates resonance with the story that you’re telling. It’s what impacts the way you write dialogue, engage setting, build conflict, and it’s going to not just guide you as a writer, but your reader as an audience.

It’s an exercise I use a lot when I’m teaching, but think of it this way: two girls walk alone through the woods. A basic premise. Now think about how differently you’d write it if it was: comedy; family fairytale; horror.

Those are completely different stories, right? And what you focus on and how you write it is going to be so different. So even if you’re just trying to write something and you don’t really know what, just have a little think about the mood of it, and what sort of feeling you want readers to take away from it. And then! Use that mood when you’re thinking about setting (the trees in these woods are going to look very different after all if it’s a children’s fantasy vs a horror), action and dialogue. Embrace it! 

Space

Space informs mood which informs the way we read stories.

I just touched on it in the above section, but embedding your story in a space is going to bring out so many different parts of it. It gives your characters objects to interact with, an environment to feel, a stage to play on.

Nothing happens in a vacuum, so why write that way? And again – space informs mood which ultimately is what creates resonance. Think of the gothic sprawl of the moors in Wuthering Heights or the way the house is used in The Lovely Bones to trap Lindsey when she finds the lock of her dead sister’s hair.

Understanding space can really level up your writing and make it feel alive.

(If you’re just starting out with this sort of thing, look at pictures, draw a map! It’ll help a lot). 

But why?

My favourite and least favourite writing question, haha.

It’s also my favourite and least favourite question as a reader. Understanding character motivations – whether they be major or minor characters – is pivotal to investing a reader in the journey of your story. As a reader, I don’t have to like it, but I need to get it, and that’s something I think is often unfortunately missing.

Engagement

Oof, this got long, haha. Sorry! There were a few personal tangents in there, but my point is ultimately that there isn’t a simple, single answer for your questions. The way people engage are, in my experience, this perfect cocktail of totally predictable and completely unpredictable. I think place in community and profile helps in some respects, but not in others, I think engagement can as much be about popularity as it can be about craft, and even beyond that, I think how readers connect with certain stories are beyond the scope of anything I can explain. I see great fics get overlooked, and fics that I don’t think are particularly well-written hit a huge note with pretty much everyone in the fandom, so I don’t know. I don’t think quality writing always has that much to do with it, and like I said above, I don’t even necessarily think profile breeds engagement.

All of this said, I do think that authenticity goes a long way with engagement. I know a few people who are very blatantly tit-for-tat with how they engage with others, which personally I find hmmmmmmmmmmm, I guess I’d say telling of people’s priorities within fandom? Which is fine! We’re all here for our own reasons, but I know it affects how I personally interact with those people because it’s not behaviour I personally value. I know for me, I’m more likely to engage if people are warm and friendly and contributing to positive culture and conversation within fandom, but I’d also always prefer to engage with people who were just openly different in opinion than people who pretend to be friendly but are actually the first to talk shit behind your back.

So I guess all of this is summing up to be:

Regularity and consistency of posting goes a long way.

Profile does help, but it’s not the be-all-and-end-all by any stretch of the imagination.

Community and profile mean different things to different people.

Authenticity of approach creates better quality, more organic engagement.

Never stop learning about writing, because the more you learn, the richer your stories will be.

Keep growing and challenging what you know about stories.

Know that sometimes your story is more niche than you think.

People responding to your stories unfortunately isn’t a lock and key situation. People like different shaped keyholes! And sometimes something that looks like a key doesn’t actually fit that, and sometimes something that looks like - - I don’t know, a fish, fits perfectly. Okay, I’ve extended this metaphor too far now, haha.

I don’t think this is the answer you want, but it’s the only one I can really give, and it’s 5k words of context and hopefully a little bit of advice, haha. But look, write what you enjoy, find people you like engaging with and be proactive in talking to the people who are engaging with your writing already. Contribute positively and meaningfully, and do so authentically, and don’t give up!

There’s a great Stephen King quote which says – and I’m paraphrasing here, haha – that you’re not a real writer until you can wallpaper your house in rejection letters; and as someone who can absolutely do that and is about to have her first novel published with Penguin Random House, it’s really true.

You become a better writer through putting yourself out there, building networks and community, reading, learning, engaging, seeing what works and what doesn’t, understanding how profile bolsters readership, but more so than anything else, you become a better, more resonant writer through the act of writing.

And that’s as true of fanfic as it is of any writing.

[zevzevarainai]

Hey! You ever end up doing essay on the kazumaji gifs? (I'm highly interested because it's always majima o' clock where I live)

it’s always majima o’clock here too; maybe we live in the same area... but lmao i didnt write the essay on my kazumaji gifs because i didnt think anyone would want to hear it so i meant it more as a per request kind of deal. and you’re requesting. I want you to know you did this to yourself, my friend

below the read more for everyone’s well being. welcome to my first official majima analysis essay

ok so in those tags i said something like majima is softest with kiryu because it is absolutely the truth (unless you count makoto, which i love them too, but majima has moved on or at least is making an effort to. and that was pre-tacky snake skin jacket and pre-mad dog persona.) 

the prompt for the gifset was “maybe something about majima being stupid and unhinged but like, in a sweet way” and the whole point of this rambling is that kiryu is really the only one we see who causes the mad-dog persona to slip. kiryu says he can never get a read on majima but just because he is unpredictable doesn’t mean he doesn’t understand that he isn’t just batshit crazy. he trusts majima, and finds comfort in his lack of predictability, keeping kiryu’s life exciting and providing distraction from the insane amount of tragic shit that happens to kiryu. and majima has a similar experience of idolizing the yakuza lifestyle as teens/young adults only to have the yakuza drag them through hell. But this is supposed to be about Majima.

ANYWAY what GETS ME is again that mad-dog vibe slipping around kiryu. the only time we really only see it again is with Saejima when he comes back from jail. i’m gonna talk about that later too. LET’s GET TO THE GIFS i’m going in chronological order not the order i put them in

1)

Ok so as an audience, we don’t really know what happened between Kiryu and Majima between Yakuza Zero and Yakuza/Yakuza Kiwami. Yes, we get that tiny ending scene of Majima going KIRYU-CHAN for the first time and Kiryu smiling at him. But we are given nothing as to how they met or why Majima started calling him Kiryu-chan. It is left completely to the audience’s interpretation. Because then it goes straight to the first scene with Majima in Yakuza/Yakuza Kiwami after Kiryu gets out of jail. It implies that they already knew each other, and arguably that they were somewhat close -- close enough for Majima to “miss him.” (What was majima doing for those 10 years, i don’t know, but he clearly wasn’t in a great place, missing both kiryu, makoto, and saejima, we ignore y5 lore in this household or make up shit to fill in the giant gaps) You could argue that Majima missing Kiryu is just Majima being “crazy haha woah” but his character is so much deeper than that, and it’s proven in this gif’s scene. Yes he is fighting Kiryu with all his men. But if you are reading this you understand that them fighting physically all the time is a secret love language. They never intend to severely hurt each other. Fighting is how they know that they have an equal, someone else who was modeled into a weapon because of the Tojo Clan.

And yes, “He belongs to me!” is an extremely gay thing to say. He doesn’t even need to say that, though. One of his men didn’t understand that he doesn’t actually want to hurt Kiryu. The guy picked up Majima’s knife and tried to actually hurt Kiryu. Majima willingly gets stabbed so Kiryu doesn’t get hurt. That’s a handful of gay subtext right there. Majima’s first scene in y1 is about how the world is a horrible, shitty place that will chew you up and spit you out if you care. Then he goes and gets stabbed. Self-sacrificially. He cares about Kiryu, even if it hurts. 

2)

This one isn’t as deep. It stems of the same concept of them fighting each other as equals. Majima explicitly says more than once that strength is the most admirable trait, Goromi says that it only matters that a man is strong. Kiryu is the only person who presents a challenge to him. He admires him. 

3)

(As a disclaimer, I know a lot of people are uncomfortable with Goromi. I’ve also seen a lot of non-binary, gender-fluid, etc. people project on Goromi and Majima, and I feel like that can only be a good thing. Obviously they deserve more and more quality representation. I think the people who dislike Goromi are valid as well, but for the sake of this argument we are going to see Goromi as the people who project on her do and I’m going to use she/her pronouns when talking about Goromi.)

Regardless on your stance on this whole little side quest, the player has the choice to go along with Goromi which creates actually a lot of subtle connecting between the two of them. Even in just talking to her, we see the mad-dog mask slip. She talks about how much she cared about the girls at Club Shine and wonders how they’re doing. Literally says “all part of my tragic-ass backstory.” And Kiryu sympathizes with it. Says he sees through the “i hated it” bullshit and sees Majima/Goromi’s true self, which is that the cabaret job was hard for Majima because he cared about the women and didn’t like using them as a source of income and knew it would be his fault if they got hurt. 

Also, Goromi says that "When I’m with a guy, it’s all about if I’m having enough fun. That’s why he’s gotta be strong.” Sound like someone we know? Someone who we are talking about in the last gif with i-just-got-the-shit-beat-out-of-me-and-it-was-awesome bliss on his face?

Anyway, the scene in the gif is near the end of the session. Kiryu is talking about how he’s been in prison for 10 years, and Goromi says that now that he’s out he should try to relax and and a little fun. Arguably, “since you’re so lonely right now, I’m gonna give ya a hand!” is most of Majima’s role in YK1. Kiryu gets out of prison. Majima wants to fight him all the time and says it’s because he’s gone soft and needs to train. Majima Everywhere presents excitement in his life when everything else is hard and shitty and traumatizing. Yes, Majima kidnapped Haruka. But there isn’t a lot of info on that. Majima says he did it so they could fight but it very likely could have been an order from the Tojo Clan or even Nishiki. Until he develops a bond with Haruka, Majima is, in a way, all he has. Nishiki is mean now. Yumi is ???. Kazama is i don’t even remember but he certainly isn’t any emotional support. He’s lonely. Majima is the only person he has from before prison, and quite possibly the only person who understands what he is going through. 

4)

YK2, Kiryu has yeeted out of Majima’s life as Kiryu does, but he’s trying to protect haruka so I’ll let it slide. And what does Majima do now that Kiryu’s not there? Leaves the Tojo Clan. Yes it’s because he doesn’t like the 5th chairman’s style and to make up for Kawamura, but the point is he’s bored. The use of “MY Kiryu-chan” is obviously written there because “haha majima he’s crazyyy” but come on. Majima left the Tojo Clan after Kiryu stepped down as the 4th chairman. Because he was bored. Because he couldn’t trust his own men. The only person he considered an equal just wasn’t there anymore and he found it difficult to adjust. (That’s YEARNING, fellas)

So yes, HIS Kiryu-chan came home, but what is home in this context? It clearly isn’t the tojo clan, so I guess it could be Kamurocho in general. But if the clan doesn’t make it home, what does make it home? Perhaps a certain triangle shaped man??

5)

Oh boy silly Majima wants to fight Kiryu again hahaha weeeeeeeee NO listen, LISTEN, he does want to fight kiryu again, because 1) the man has been bored for a year 2) FIGHTING IS THEIR LOVE LANGUAGE 3) Majima is once again surprising Kiryu in a world where nothing surprises him anymore, where kiryu expects people to be vile and only want him for gain. Every single goddamn game it’s “Kiryu plz save the Tojo Clan plz” and Kiryu NEVER gets anything in return unless you count, i don’t know, Daigo and Haruka’s safety? But Majima doesn’t give a shit about any of that. Majima is one of the only people who consistently does things for Kiryu (even if they’re presented in an abnormal way). Majima is really the only one who makes sacrifices for Kiryu. But this fight, it kicks off YK2 of “hey, i missed you but i won’t admit it because we’re manly yakuza, please let me try to make you smile.”

6)

THE kazumaji scene. Going off of Majima being the only one to make sacrifices for Kiryu, here’s a perfect example. Majima first aids the Tojo Clan which he swore to leave literally only because Kiryu asked him to. Then, here, he get beaten within an inch of his life because he promised Kiryu he would protect Kamurocho from Ryuji. Majima does not give a shit about the Tojo Clan at this point. Yes, Majima LOVEEESSSS beating people up, but he’s fatally wounded. This is not a Majima who would die for the Tojo Clan. This is a Majima willing to die for Kiryu. After warning Kiryu about being to trusting, too.

And of course, we get the Majima collapsing on the pavement and Kiryu rushing in to CRADLE him in his arms like a damn fanfic. You’ve even got the “I did it for you” which everyone knows is basically an “I love you.” Look at Majima’s face in the gif. Bless the Kiwami 2 graphics, first of all. He’s looking at Kiryu like he wants him to be the last thing he sees, like he wants him to know that he’s going out for Kiryu, that despite the fact that he’s about to cough up blood he needs Kiryu to have the information he needs to save the clan and Kamurocho. He’s telling Kiryu all this with labored breath because he promised. Kiryu “One-Expression” Kazuma is viably worried as hell, the little nod in the gif kills me because Kiryu needs him to know he’s touched and he’s so grateful. The only reason Kiryu left him was because there was danger elsewhere and he trusts Kaoru enough to take care of him. (Side note: I love Kaoru Sayama, but I still feel like she’s good enough a character on her own and doesn’t need to be a romantic interest for Kiryu. Like it was like oh... she’s Girl so she needs to fall for the Big Strong Male Protag.... If Majima was a cis girl they would have made out in this game, maybe even y1.) 

7) Speaking of sacrifices, Yakuza 3, the game where Majima literally joined the Tojo Clan again because Kiryu wanted him to protect Daigo. That’s a huge lifestyle change, Majima.

Yes, this scene is funny because Majima is riding in a Barbie-ass truck like a 15 year old driving on a learner’s permit in a downpour (yet proves he can drive stick seconds later) and thinks he hit Kiryu while he purposely hit everyone else. Look, Majima needs this ok y3 he looks like he’s been crying since kiryu left no one No One is going to hurt Kiryu now

That truck is likely stolen, he’s driving erratically as fast as he can because Kiryu is in danger, how did he even know that Kiryu was in danger is it like some kind of 6th sense... If you didn’t already know, I would take a bullet for Majima’s voice actor; his delivery of “Kiryu-chan! Where are you?!” could have just been like haha oops kiryu did i hit you ;3 but instead it’s this raw cry of genuine panic, like did his actions get kiryu hurt, Majima could not live with himself if he was the reason Kiryu got fatally hurt

8) Ok I’ve hinted at the fact that I have beef with the Hot Mess that is yakuza 5, wasn’t huge on Y4 and Y6 was fine but it was heavily based on the events of Y5. In my head I’ve got an entire fix-it fanfic in which Majima yeets out to Okinawa with Kiryu after Y3 I could write that upon request too ANYWAY here’s another sacrificial majima...

Despite not caring for Y5, THIS SCENE is RAW. Maybe he’s not super “unhinged” in this scene but it’s just so much. Majima, who Kiryu brokedown in his taxi bc he thought he got killed (because Kiryu made him stay in the tojo clan haha we’re out here crying), chooses Kiryu over Saejima. Saejima, Majima’s oath brother, Saejima. We love Saejima, Majima loves Saejima, but 25 years is a long ass time. Majima changed. Saejima changed. For awhile he had Makoto, but then Kiryu was all Majima had for a good chunk of Saejima’s time in prison. This is the man Majima got his eye stabbed out for defending. But the BaD GuYs that arent memorable enough for me to even look up the names of are like look, we want to watch the world burn because we are Bad Guys, so either you are going to fight your brother to the death or we are going to snipe Kiryu’s daughter in the fucking head. Obviously he doesn’t know that Baba is going to betray them, so he has to pick between Saejima and Haruka. He chooses to potentially kill Saejima for Kiryu’s happiness. I’m sure if things didn’t change, Majima would have held back and let Saejima kill him. Majima would rather die than see Kiryu in pain. Majima would rather kill Saejima/let Saejima kill him than let Haruka die. If that’s not a giant declaration of unconditional love and devotion, I don’t know what else to tell you.

Anyway, thanks so much for indulging me and listening to my yakuza opinions if you made it this far you the mvp :’’’’)